The Motor Pirate Part 5

He must have observed my natural amazement at the intensity of feeling which his speech displayed, for he observed in a lighter tone--

"Not being Motor Pirates, however, the next best thing is, I suppose, to go to bed and dream that we are." He turned on his heel and strode away in one direction, while I went in the direction of my own home. But I was in no hurry to get there. The night was too delightful.

In the few hours which had elapsed since we had sat down to dine, a change had come over the face of the land. I could feel the presence of Spring in the air, and all the youth in me awoke. The creatures of the earth felt it too. In the silence of the night I could hear the crackle of the buds as they cast off their winter coverings, hear the whisper of the gra.s.s, which the countryman declares is the sound of growing blades, hear the murmur of all animate things as they rose to welcome the Springtide. My own heart leapt up with a renewal of hope. I stood awhile outside Colonel Maitland's door, and breathed a prayer that it might be my fortune to protect the fair inmate of the house from all harm through life. I strolled slowly to my own door, but I did not enter. Moonbeams beget love-dreams when one is still in the twenties.

Back again to the Colonel's house, back once more to my own. In all probability I should have continued my solitary sentry-go and my reverie until daybreak, had not my thoughts been sharply recalled to earth. On reaching my own doorway for the fifth or sixth time I had just turned, when I saw a black shadow on the road opposite the Maitlands'

house. One glance was enough; it was the Motor Pirate again, and I began to count. "One--two--," the car pa.s.sed me, "three--four;" it had vanished round a turning of the road in the direction of St. Albans.

Even what I had already experienced of the Pirate had not prepared me for such an exhibition as this. What Mannering had said about the delight of flying along an open road at a hundred miles an hour recurred to me. I had not deemed it possible. But I paced the distance between the Colonel's house and the bend where the strange car had pa.s.sed out of sight. The distance was just about two hundred yards, and it had been covered as near as possible in four seconds. The car must have been travelling just about a hundred miles an hour.

I went straight indoors to bed. I am not ashamed to confess that I was not able to continue my dreams in comfort, while pacing the road, by the consideration of what would have happened to me had the Motor Pirate come along just two seconds before I happened to turn and see him.

CHAPTER V

THE COLONEL DREAMS, AND I AWAKEN

I SLEPT until late the next morning. I have always been accustomed to a clear eight hours' sleep, and, as I did not get between the sheets until about four in the morning, I naturally did not awaken until mid-day. So what with my tub and the necessity for shaving, my early morning call upon the Colonel did not come off. I suppose, as a matter of fact, I sat down to breakfast just about the time when the gastronomic warrior was thinking of luncheon. However, when I saw how amply my expectation of a change in the weather had been fulfilled, I did not regret my lengthy sleep. From a sodden grey sky sheets of water were steadily pouring.

There was not the slightest chance of any break in the clouds.

Consequently I felt a.s.sured of finding Miss Maitland at home if I made my call in the afternoon, and since her father oftentimes thought it expedient to take a little repose after luncheon in order to prepare himself for the fatigue of dining, it was possible that I might even be fortunate enough to secure a _tete-a-tete_ with her.

I came to my breakfast, therefore, with as good a spirit as appet.i.te, neither being in the slightest degree affected by the memory of the easy way in which I had been plundered by the Motor Pirate. Of course I felt a certain chagrin. Still, I could contemplate the adventure with a considerable deal more equanimity than I had managed to display the night before, though I found that my curiosity concerning him had, if anything, increased. I turned with eagerness to the morning papers to see whether they could add to my knowledge concerning him.

As every one is aware, all the papers on the morning of the first of April that year devoted columns to his exploits. If I remember aright, the country was at that time engaged upon two of our usual minor wars, Parliament was in the midst of an important debate upon the second reading of a measure to secure an extension of the franchise, and a divorce case of more than common interest was engaging the attention of the leading legal lights of the law courts. But all these things received but the scantiest notice. The war news was relegated to the inside pages, the Parliamentary intelligence cut down to the barest summary, the _cause celebre_ dismissed with such a paragraph as ordinarily serves to chronicle an unimportant police court case. The Motor Pirate had nearly a monopoly of the s.p.a.ce at the editorial disposal. There was column after column about him. The Plymouth robbery was reported in as great detail as the Compton Chamberlain affair, while there were particulars of two similar outrages committed at points between these two places.

On running my eye over the reports I saw that they added nothing to what I already knew, and I wasted no time in reading the leaders on the subject. I was, however, extremely interested to find from one paper that Winter and I had not been the only victims of the scoundrel's rapacity on the previous evening, for a brief telegram reported a similar occurrence a few miles from Oxford on the London road. I at once sent my man to purchase any of the early editions of the evening papers which might have reached St. Albans, in the hope that they might contain further particulars of these operations.

I had finished my breakfast, and was enjoying a cigarette in my library, when he returned. I took the papers from him, and the first glance at one of them made me gasp with amazement. The news which startled me was all in one line--"Five more cars held up by the Motor Pirate."

I am not going into details concerning these. If you have a desire to refresh your memory all you have to do is to turn to any newspaper of the date I have named and you will be able to get them _ad nauseam_. But I will venture to give a list of the places where and the times at which the outrages took place, for I made a list of them in the hope that, by carefully studying it with the map, I might get some idea as to where he might next be expected to make his appearance.

I found that at five minutes past nine he stopped a car some four miles from Oxford. Twenty minutes later he was robbing a lonely motorist midway between Thame and Aylesbury. Then for forty minutes he appeared to have been idle, his next two exploits taking place within five minutes of each other, just after ten, in the neighbourhood of Amersham.

King's Langley was the scene of his next adventure, the time given being about a quarter of an hour before he had overtaken us. In addition to the particulars of these robberies there were a host of reports from people who had seen the Pirate car pa.s.s them on the road. But there was one notable omission from the latter list. Not from a single town was there any record of the Pirate having been seen pa.s.sing through it.

I got a map of the district, and, after studying the country carefully, I was fain to confess that one of two things was certain: either the Motor Pirate had the power to make his car invisible at will, or else he had a truly phenomenal knowledge of the bye-roads. How he had even managed to get to Oxford, after his exploits in the West of England, without arrest, puzzled me. The car was so unique in shape that it seemed bound to excite observation. It could not have been put up at any hotel, any more than it could have been run through the country by daylight, without exciting remark and its presence being chronicled.

What, then, had he done with it? The more I pondered the question the more puzzled I became, and at the same time the more determined to seek a solution of the mystery. But how? I made a dozen plans, all of which, upon consideration, appeared so futile, that I gave up the game in despair, and decided to see if my brain would not become clearer after I had paid my promised visit to Colonel Maitland.

I did not find Miss Maitland alone, as I expected, or I might probably have been tempted to confide my experience to her, and to have asked the a.s.sistance of her woman's wit in putting me on the track of a solution to the mystery. Mannering was with her. When I made my appearance in the drawing-room, and found him enjoying a _tete-a-tete_, I cursed myself for delaying my call and thus giving him such an opportunity. My temper was not improved either by the discovery that they were sufficiently engrossed in conversation to have been able very well to dispense with my presence. I did not feel called upon to leave Mannering a clear field, however, so I joined in the discussion, and tried my hardest to be pleasant.

Of course, there was only one possible topic of conversation, the theme which was uttermost in every one's mind throughout the length and breadth of the land. It was a difficult subject for me to discuss, and in a measure it was a difficult subject for Mannering, inasmuch as it was hard to refrain from reference to the personal experience we had had with the Motor Pirate. It became increasingly difficult, when a few minutes after my arrival Colonel Maitland joined us.

"It was lucky for him he did not meet us, hey, Sutgrove?" said the Colonel. "You, Winter, and myself, would soon settle a Motor Pirate, wouldn't we?"

I muttered something which would pa.s.s for an a.s.sent, while Mannering shot an amused smile in my direction.

"I wonder though we saw nothing of him," continued Maitland; "he must have been very near us last night."

"He seems to have been everywhere," I answered.

"He has the ubiquity of a De Wet," said Mannering.

"I hope I shall have a chance of meeting him sometime," I continued grimly.

Colonel Maitland chuckled. "Heavens! What a fire-eater you are, Sutgrove. One might almost take you for a sub in a cavalry regiment."

I made no answer, and Miss Maitland remarked--"I think that is very unkind of you. You spoke of the Motor Pirate as if you owed him a grudge. I think we all ought to be supremely thankful to him for having made the wettest day we have had this year pa.s.s quite pleasantly."

Bear him a grudge? I should think I did, but at the same time, I had no intention of confessing the reason, so I said--

"Then we'll drink long life and prosperity to him the next time we have a bottle of that same port your father approved so highly last night."

Then I turned to the Colonel, and made a clumsy attempt to turn the subject of conversation. "Is your verdict upon my restaurant equally favourable to-day, sir?"

Colonel Maitland's eyes twinkled. "I have nothing to regret. As for the port with which we finished, it seems to me the sort of stuff dreams are made of. Do you know that the gla.s.s I drank--was it one gla.s.s or two?--gave me the most vivid dream I have enjoyed since my childhood?"

"Indeed! Let's hear it, Colonel," I replied.

"Do tell us," said his daughter, as she rose from her seat, and put her arms coaxingly round her father's neck. "Do tell us like a real, good, kind, old-fas.h.i.+oned parent."

The Colonel pa.s.sed his hand lovingly over his daughter's sunny hair.

"Sutgrove and Mannering don't want to hear about an old fellow's silly dreams," he said. "Besides, it was all about the Motor Pirate, and I can see that Sutgrove for one is quite sick of the subject."

I was, and I wasn't, but I speedily declared that I was not when I saw that his daughter was bent upon hearing the story. So he started upon a prosy description as to how the fresh air had sent him to sleep, not saying a word about the port, and I ceased to listen to him, preferring to devote the whole of my attention to his daughter, who had seated herself upon a footstool at his feet, and was looking up into his face with a pretty affectionate glance in her deep blue eyes, enough to set any one longing to be the recipient of similar regard. Her form, att.i.tude, expression, all made so deep an impression upon me, that I have only to close my eyes at any time to see her just as she was then--the little witch! She knew full well how to make the most of her attractions, and though she has often declared since to me that the pose was quite unpremeditated, I could never quite believe her.

However that may be, I was so fascinated in watching her--there was one stray curl which lay like a strand of woven gold upon her brow. Confound it! It's all very well for the fellow who writes fiction for a living to write about people's emotions. He is cold himself. If he were like me, and wished to describe his own feelings, he might find himself in the same difficulty as myself, and give up the attempt.

The Colonel's voice droned on. Suddenly I awoke to the consciousness that he was speaking of me. I think it was the fact of his daughter looking at me which recalled me to attention.

"Sutgrove had just looked back to see if I was comfortable, when he saw another car on the road behind us. We had not long pa.s.sed through Radlett. You know the straight stretch of road just past the new Dutch barn on the left----"

My attention did not wander any more, and you may imagine my astonishment at hearing the Colonel describe in minute detail everything which had befallen us upon the previous evening. He could tell a story when he liked, and on this occasion his description of the shamefaced manner in which Winter had scrambled out of his car, and had handed over his valuables to the Motor Pirate, was so ludicrous that I was compelled to laugh at the description. When my turn came to be described, Miss Maitland and Mannering were just as much amused, but I am afraid that my attempt to partic.i.p.ate in their mirth was rather forced.

When the story was done, Miss Maitland rose from her seat at her father's feet, and, putting a hand on each of his shoulders--

"You dear, delightful old fibber!" she remarked. "I don't believe you dreamed that at all. You couldn't." Then she wheeled round on me. "Now tell me, Mr. Sutgrove, didn't that dream of father's really happen to you last night?"

What course was open to me but confession? I admitted the truth of the story, and the Colonel was so choked with merriment, that I feared lest he should be stricken with apoplexy.

"The cream of the joke," he explained, when he recovered his powers of speech, "was that neither Winter nor Sutgrove had the slightest idea that I was foxing. I intended to inform them directly we were clear of the Pirate; but when I heard them discussing the matter, and determining to keep silence out of tenderness for my reputation, I could not resist keeping up the joke."

"I should think it was their own reputations they were thinking about,"

said his daughter. "To submit so tamely to one man is not a very heroic proceeding."

I heard Mannering chuckle, and I felt mad. But I fancy it was not Mannering's amus.e.m.e.nt, but my own consciousness of the truth of the criticism that galled.

Colonel Maitland came to my rescue. "I thought they were very sensible,"