The Slave of Silence Part 35

"I could not allow it," he said. "If it came to the ears of my superiors, I should suffer. And I have a wife and family to think of.

In minutes of temptation such as you ask me to put before you, women are capable of anything for the sake of those they love. Besides, you would not have me do a thing that is wrong in the eyes of my employers?"

Mary was silent. Her own sense of justice showed her that Field was right. But nothing would induce her to go away, so long as there was anything like hope remaining. She might get a chance still to whisper one word of warning. And if it came she would not hesitate. She had not been placed on her parole so far.

She turned away to wipe her s.h.i.+ning eyes, and as she did so the door opened and Berrington crept out. His face was full of excitement, his lips were white.

"Glad to find you here," he said. "I was going to try and find a messenger. I could not leave the house for very long, considering that----"

He paused significantly, with his eyes on Mary. Evidently Berrington had made some great and startling discovery, or he would not have been so dreadfully agitated. Even in the moment of her awful sorrow, Mary could find time to speak and think of others.

"I am in a great measure responsible for this," she said. "Philip, Beatrice Richford is in the house; she has a valuable parcel of diamonds in her pocket; those thieves there know it. Go to her a.s.sistance at once; see that she is safe from harm. If anything happens to her I shall never forgive myself. Why don't you go at once?"

"I am sorry," Berrington stammered. He seemed quite dazed and confused.

"I have no doubt that Mrs. Richford will be perfectly safe, seeing that a.s.sistance is at hand. Indeed, I let her know that I was in the house so that she should not be unduly frightened. But there are other matters of far greater importance than that. Sir Charles Darryll----"

"I thought we should come to Sir Charles Darryll," Field cut in swiftly.

"But we need not discuss that matter here and now. Do you want me?"

Field asked the question with a strange ring in his voice. Berrington wondered--he was rapidly regaining complete possession of himself. He moved towards the house.

"In a few minutes," he said. "Wait till I give you the signal. Thank goodness, you were so close by."

Berrington pa.s.sed into the house again and closed the door behind him.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

There was a thrill of excitement, an electric feeling in the air that was not lost to anyone of the little group standing there in the darkness. That some momentous event was going to happen everybody knew without being told. Tacitly, it seemed to be understood that everything was in the hands of Inspector Field.

Previously, on the arrival of his two men, he had sent one of them off with hurried instructions of some kind. The other man stood by the gate like a statue. Mark Ventmore, growing restless at last, turned to Field and asked a question. The inspector was wiping his damp hands upon his handkerchief as if he himself was a thief waiting for arrest.

"We are going to wait," he said curtly, "and there is an end of the matter."

Mark felt that he could not say any more after that. Mary was still crying softly to herself. The misery was with her yet, as she felt that it would be to her dying day, but the agony of suspense was past. Of what took place in that house from time to time she knew a great deal, but some things had been kept back from her. It was the vague feeling of what might be that frightened her.

Half an hour or more pa.s.sed in the same tense, rigid silence, and yet there was no sign from the house. A figure crossed the road and came up the drive, making no more noise than a ghost. It was Field's man returning.

The inspector turned to him with an eager agitation that seemed strange to him.

"Well," he asked, "have you anything definite?"

His voice sounded hoa.r.s.e and strange. The other man touched his cap. He seemed to hesitate before the presence of so many strangers. Field urged him on impatiently.

"Don't be all night," he said. "You can speak before the lady and gentleman. They don't know everything yet, but they will in the course of a few minutes. Did you manage it?"

"Managed it all right, sir," the misty figure in the big coat said. "I got through on the telephone to the Southwark police and told them all the particulars. They said that they would send round to Edward Street without delay."

"Of course you stayed to see that they had done so?"

"Of course, sir. It isn't a very far cry to Edward Street, so I waited.

I asked the inspector in charge to telephone me directly the raid had been made."

"Oh, get on, man," Field cried impatiently. "You're not in the witness box now grinding it out so that the magistrate's clerk can take it all down in long hand. What I want to know is whether or not the raid was effective."

"To a certain extent, sir. They took the housekeeper, who doesn't appear to have had much to do with the matter, and an old gentleman who looked like a clergyman. So far, there was n.o.body else in the house."

Field gave vent to something that sounded like a grunt of satisfaction.

Mary said nothing, but she had a pretty shrewd idea who the clergyman was. Field seemed to be fairly pleased.

"So far, so good," he said. "Are they going to send round the motor car?

I shall be very glad to see our elderly clerical friend here."

The officer indicated that everything would be done in accordance with Field's desire.

"There was one other man I wanted," he said. "Not that one ever gets everything in cases like this. Unless I am greatly mistaken, there was another man in Edward Street, a tall man----"

"Called the doctor," the officer said eagerly. "I know all about him, because they told me over the wire from Southwark exactly how the raid was made. The housekeeper called to some 'doctor,' but the police couldn't find him. I expect he found some way of getting off."

"He'll come here," Field said emphatically. "He'll come if only to tell his pals exactly what has happened. He'll come post haste in a cab. If he does I shall bag the lot. This is going to be a fine evening's work."

Seeing that nothing further was expected of him, the officer saluted and went beyond the gate. Still there was no sign from the house, and the silence and suspense were growing intolerable. Mark ventured to suggest that something should be done.

Field turned upon him with the fury of a tiger. By his anger he showed that he, too, was feeling the strain of suspense.

"Confound you, sir," he said, "allow me to know my business best. Here I am close to the solution of one of the strangest and most daring crimes of the century, and yet you are asking me to spoil it by the raw haste of a schoolboy."

"Perhaps I had better go," Mark said. "Come with me, Miss Sartoris. Let us leave together. It will be better for you that way."

"No," Mary said gently. "I am greatly obliged to you, but I shall stay."

"Both stay, please," Field said in a gentler tone. "Mr. Ventmore, let me make you the most handsome apology in my power. I am afraid that this thing has got a little on my nerves. You see, this is a great case, a far greater case than anybody is aware of. I only stumbled on the real truth of it more or less by accident to-day. And if there is anything like a struggle, your help may be of value."

Mark let the matter pa.s.s. He could quite understand Field's feeling.

Another quarter of an hour slipped away; the road was now quite deserted, so that the wheels of a coming cab could be heard a long way off. There was a little discussion between the cabman and his fare, followed by the banging of a door, and the heavy footsteps came staggering up the street and a big man pa.s.sed before the gate of No.

100, Audley Place. With a sign, Field motioned his companion to steal behind the bushes.

"One of our birds, unless I am greatly mistaken," he said. "Yes, he is coming this way."

Mary held her breath now, for she did not fail to recognise the newcomer. She could see from a casual glance that it was Bentwood.

He came with a lurch and a stagger which proved his condition. He seemed a little suspicious at first, but the silence of the house, the steady gleam of the light over the fanlight, seemed to dispel any suspicions.

Then he advanced more boldly to the door. As he stood on the bottom step, Field emerged from his hiding-place.

"Doctor Bentwood," he said, "I fancy I am not mistaken. You will oblige me by taking your hand off the bell. n.o.body will answer your ring."