Carmen's Messenger Part 19

"Good luck! But wait in the road for a minute or two," she said and turned away.

He watched her cross the lawn until her figure faded into the gloom, after which he went back to the gate and waited until John came up with a small packet.

"Miss Featherstone sends you this, sir, but hopes you won't open it until you are in the train."

Foster thanked him and went back with Pete up the waterside. The air was keen and a light mist hung about the rough track that took them to the moors. There was a beat of wings as a flock of wild duck pa.s.sed overhead when they skirted a reedy pool, and once or twice the wild cry of a curlew came out of the dark. Except for this, the moor was silent and desolate, but Foster felt a strange poignant elation as he stumbled among the ruts and splashed across boggy gra.s.s. They walked for two or three hours and he was muddy and rather wet when the lights of a small station began to twinkle in the gloom ahead.

Half an hour later they caught a train to Hexham, and Foster, who sent Pete to a smoking compartment, was alone when he opened the packet John had brought. Then the blood rushed to his face and his heart beat, for when he unfolded the thin paper he saw a small white glove.

Remembering how they had once talked about Border chivalry, he knew what Alice meant. She believed his tale and knew the risks he ran, and had sent him her glove that he might carry it as her badge. He folded the piece of delicate kid carefully and put it in a pocket where it rested upon his heart.

"After this, I've got to put my job over, whatever it costs," he said.

XVI

A DIFFICULT PART

It was four o'clock in the afternoon when Foster stopped in front of the grimy building where Graham had his office, and looked up and down the street. Close by, a carter stood at the head of an impatient horse that stamped and rattled its harness, and a hoist clanked as a bale of goods went up to a top story; but except for this the street was quiet Farther off, one or two moving figures showed indistinctly, for rain was falling and the light getting dim. Foster, who had arrived in Newcastle that morning, had waited, thinking it might suit him better to leave the town in the dark.

"Go back to the end of the street, where you can see the clock," he said to Pete. "If I don't join you in half an hour, run to the nearest police station and ask for a man to search the top office in this building."

"The polis are no' good friends o' mine," Pete replied doubtfully. "I would sooner come for ye my lane. There's an airnmonger's roon' the corner, where I would maybe get a shairp gairden fork."

Foster laughed. Pete's methods were too primitive, although, in his strong hands, the fork would prove a dangerous weapon.

"I don't expect you'd be able to help much if I'm not back when I said.

But you can walk along the street now and then, and notice anybody who leaves the building."

He went in and set his lips as he climbed the stairs, for he imagined he would need all the tact and coolness he possessed. He had been made the tool of people who thought him an unsuspecting simpleton, but was uncertain how far it would be safe to trade upon this view of his character, although he meant to do so to some extent. There might be an advantage in hinting that he knew a little about their business; but he must make no mistakes. His steps echoed hollowly along the top landing and there was something daunting in the gloom, for the gas had not yet been lighted and the building was very quiet. It was possible that he had started on this adventure with a rashness as great as his folly in undertaking Carmen's errand, but he carried Alice Featherstone's glove and it was unthinkable that he should turn back.

There was n.o.body in the outer office when he opened the door, but after he had knocked once or twice a voice he recognized told him to come in and he strolled carelessly into Graham's room. Sitting down, he offered his cigarette case to Graham, who glanced at him with some surprise but took a cigarette while Foster lighted another. It would be easier to look languidly indifferent if he could smoke. Graham pushed aside some papers on his desk as if impatient at being disturbed. He was dressed and looked like a sober business man, and Foster admitted that it was ridiculous to imagine him to be anything else.

"I'm rather busy just now," he said. "For all that, if I can be of any use to you, Mr. ----"

Foster thought he overdid it by pretending to forget his name, but he smiled.

"Foster. You'll recollect I brought you a packet, and as I'm going back to Canada soon, I imagined I might take Miss Austin or Daly a reply. You can see that they thought me a reliable messenger."

"Miss Austin obviously did so," Graham admitted.

"Doesn't this imply that Daly shared her good opinion?" Foster asked.

Graham glanced at him sharply and then picked up a letter and studied it, but Foster imagined he wanted time to think. He had made the plunge and indicated that he knew more than the other supposed; but the rest needed care.

"You expect to meet Daly when you get back to Canada?" Graham inquired, and Foster, who saw that he was cautious, wondered whether he was alarmed.

"Oh, no; I expect to meet him before I start."

"You imply that he's in England."

"Don't you know he is?" Foster rejoined.

Graham knocked the ash off his cigarette and looked at him curiously.

His appearance was commonplace, he had a slight stoop, and was not muscular, but Foster felt he might prove dangerous.

"I don't know where he is just now. Do you?"

"Well," said Foster, "I believe I could find him if I tried."

The other was silent for the next few moments and Foster waited with some anxiety. If he pretended to know too much, he might be found out, but if Graham imagined he knew nothing, he would hesitate about informing him. The difficulty was that while he played the part of a simpleton who had been made use of by the rest of the gang, he must imply that they had to some extent taken him into their confidence.

"To tell the truth, I haven't heard from Daly for a month," Graham replied. "This has disadvantages and I'll own that I'd like to know what he is doing."

"Then it looks as if I was better informed. Mr. Daly's engaged in some private business."

"Private business?"

"Just so," Foster answered, smiling. "He imagines it will turn out profitable, but I expect it will take up much of his time."

"But----" said Graham, and stopped.

Foster made a sign of comprehension. "You feel he oughtn't to have any business that might interfere with his duty to the rest of you?"

"What do you know about his duty?" Graham asked.

"Well," said Foster, "I frankly don't know very much. In fact, it looks as if your Canadian friends didn't trust me very far, but just told me enough to make me understand my job. No doubt, that was wisest, although it's not flattering. Anyhow, I brought you a packet with some valuable enclosures, which ought to justify your sending back any confidential message to the people it came from by me."

He had made a bold venture, but saw that he was right, for Graham knitted his brows, as if he was thinking hard. Then he said, "Very well. As it happens, there are some papers I would like to send, and if you don't mind taking them, I'll give you a letter to Daly and another to Miss Austin."

"Miss Austin, of course, will pa.s.s the letter on."

"That's understood," Graham agreed.

Foster carelessly lighted a fresh cigarette, and Graham, leaning forward, opened a safe and took out one or two papers that Foster could not see well. So far, the latter had done better than he had hoped, and in another few minutes would be in the possession of papers that might throw a useful light upon the plot. Yet the strain was beginning to tell and his nerves tingled as he watched his companion write.

A lamp with a broken mantle flickered above Graham's head and the stove crackled, but the outer office, the door of which was open, was dark, and the building was strangely quiet. No sound rose from the narrow street below, which ran like a still backwater among the tall warehouses. Foster, putting his hand in his pocket as if to feel for matches, touched the small Browning pistol he had brought. He was not afraid of Graham, but somebody might come in. At length the man sealed two envelopes and put them beside his writing-pad.

"If you cannot find Daly, you must bring the first back to me. When do you sail?"

"I don't know yet; I haven't looked up the steams.h.i.+p companies'

notices," Foster answered, and as soon as he had spoken saw that he had made a mistake.

He had led Graham to believe he was going at once; indeed, this was his excuse for offering to take a message, but he remembered that in order to get a good room on a fast boat it was necessary to book one's pa.s.sage some time in advance. He thought Graham had marked the slip, although his face was expressionless.

"I don't want the letters carried about for long," he said.