The lady thus referred to interposed, "This gentleman may ask fifty or five hundred questions, but unless you tell me what all this is about I very much doubt if I shall answer one."
"Let me manage it, Mr. Golden. Mrs. Mansfield, may I enquire what you did with that cheque for a thousand which I gave you? You jade! To tell me that Ruby and Golden were dunning you out of your life, when you never owed them a stiver! Tell me what you did with that cheque!"
The Duke seemed at last to have said something which had reached the lady"s understanding. She changed colour. She pressed her lips together. She looked at him with defiance in her eyes. A considerable pause ensued before she spoke.
"I don"t know why I should tell you. What does it matter to you what I did with it--you gave it me."
"It does matter to me. As it happens, it matters also to you. If you will take my friendly advice, you will tell me what you did with that cheque."
The look of defiance about the lady"s lips and in her eyes increased.
"I don"t mind telling you. Why should I? It was my own. I gave it to Alfred."
The Duke emitted an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n--which smacked of profanity.
"To Alfred? And, pray, who may Alfred be?"
The lady"s crest rose higher. "Alfred is--is the man to whom I am engaged to be married."
The Duke of Datchet whistled. "And you got a cheque out of me for a thousand pounds to make a present of it to your intended? That beats everything; and pray to whom did Alfred give it?"
"He gave it to no one. He paid it into the bank. He told me so himself."
"Then I"m afraid that Alfred lied. Where is Alfred?"
"He"s--he"s here."
"Here? In this room? Where? Under the couch, or behind the screen?"
"I mean that he"s in this house. He"s downstairs."
"I won"t ask how long he"s been downstairs, but would it be too much to ask you to request Alfred to walk upstairs."
The lady burst into a sudden tempest of tears.
"I know you"ll only laugh at me--I know you well enough to expect you to do that--but--I--I know I"ve not been a good woman, and--and I do love him--although--he"s only--a--servant!"
"A servant! Gertrude! Was that the man who opened the door?"
Mr. Golden gave vent to an exclamation which positively amounted to a shout. "By Jove!--I"ve got it!--I knew I"d seen the face before--I couldn"t make out where--it was the man who opened the door. Your Grace, might I ask you to have that man who opened the door to us at once brought here?"
"Ring the bell, Mr. Golden."
The lady interposed. "You shan"t--I won"t have it! What do you want with him?"
"We wish to ask him one or two questions. If Alfred is an honest man it will be better for him that he should have an opportunity of answering them. If he is not an honest man, it will be better for you that you should know it."
Apparently this reasoning prevailed. Mr. Golden rang the bell; but his ring was not by any means immediately attended to. He rang a second and a third time, but still no answer came.
"It strikes me," suggested the Duke, "that we had better start on a voyage of discovery, and search for Alfred in the regions down below."
Before the Duke"s suggestion could be acted on the door was opened--not by Alfred; not by a man at all, but by a maid.
"Send Alfred here."
"I can"t find him anywhere. I think he must have gone."
"Gone!" gasped Mrs. Mansfield. "Where?"
"I don"t know, ma"am. I"ve been up to his room to look for him, and it is all anyhow, and there"s no one there. If you please, ma"am, I found this on the mat outside the door."
The maid held out an envelope. The Duke of Datchet took it from her hand. He glanced at its superscription.
""Messrs. Ruby and Golden." Gentlemen, this is for you."
He transferred it to Mr. Golden. It was a long blue envelope. The maid had picked it up from the mat which was outside the door of that very room in which they were standing. Mr. Golden opened it. It contained an oblong card of considerable size, on which were printed three photographs, in a sort of series. The first photograph was that of a young man--a beautiful young man--unmistakably "Alfred." The second was that of "Alfred" with his hair arranged in a fashion which was peculiarly feminine. The third was that of "Alfred" with a bonnet and a veil on, and a very nice-looking young woman he made. At the bottom of the card was written, in a fine, delicate, lady"s hand-writing, "With the d.u.c.h.ess of Datchet"s compliments."
"I knew," gasped Mrs. Mansfield, in the midst of her sorrow, "that he was very good at dressing up as a woman, but I never thought he would do this!"
The Duke of Datchet paid for the diamonds.
The Haunted Chair
CHAPTER I
"Well, that"s the most staggering thing I"ve ever known!"
As Mr. Philpotts entered the smoking-room, these were the words--with additions--which fell upon his, not unnaturally, startled ears. Since Mr. Bloxham was the only person in the room, it seemed only too probable that the extraordinary language had been uttered by him--and, indeed, his demeanour went far to confirm the probability. He was standing in front of his chair, staring about him in a manner which suggested considerable mental perturbation, apparently unconscious of the fact that his cigar had dropped either from his lips or his fingers and was smoking merrily away on the brand-new carpet which the committee had just laid down. He turned to Mr. Philpotts in a state of what seemed really curious agitation.
"I say, Philpotts, did you see him?"
Mr. Philpotts looked at him in silence for a moment, before he drily said, "I heard you."
But Mr. Bloxham was in no mood to be put off in this manner. He seemed, for some cause, to have lost the air of serene indifference for which he was famed--he was in a state of excitement, which, for him, was quite phenomenal.
"No nonsense, Philpotts--did you see him?"
"See whom?" Mr. Philpotts was selecting a paper from a side table. "I see your cigar is burning a hole in the carpet."
"Confound my cigar!" Mr. Bloxham stamped on it with an angry tread.
"Did Geoff Fleming pa.s.s you as you came in?"
Mr. Philpotts looked round with an air of evident surprise.