The Voice from the Void: The Great Wireless Mystery Part 24

"Oh! won't Gordon be delighted to get this!" she cried. "It will gladden his heart. The dear boy is a bit down, and wants bucking up."

"Where's Jimmie?" asked Allen. "Tell him to get me a drink. I suppose he's back by this time?"

The handsome woman in the lemon-coloured gown rose and rang the bell, and old Claribut, servile and dignified, entered.

"Hulloa! d.i.c.k!" he exclaimed. "Why, where have you sprung from? I thought you were in Nice!"

"So I was. But I'm in Welwyn now, and I want one of your very best c.o.c.ktails--and one for Freda also."

The old man retired and presently brought two drinks upon a silver salver.

"I shan't be in to dinner to-night, Jimmie. I'm motoring d.i.c.k to London presently. I'll be home about midnight. But I'll take the key. Any news?"

"Nothing, madam," replied the perfectly-mannered butler. "Only the gas-man came this morning, and the parson called and left some handbills about the Sunday school treat you are going to give next Thursday."

"Oh! yes, I forgot about that infernal treat! See about it, Jimmie, and order the stuff and the marquee to be put up out in the field. See Jackson, the schoolmaster; he'll help you. Say I'm busy."

"Very well, madam."

"Well!" laughed Allen, "so you are acting the great lady of the village now, Freda!"

"Of course. It impresses these people, and it only costs a few cups of tea and a few subscriptions. Gordon thinks it policy, but, by Jove! how I hate it all. Oh! you should see Gordon on a Sunday morning in his new hat and gloves. He's really a spectacle!"

"Ah! I suppose a reputation is judicious out here," her companion laughed.

"Yes. But I'll drive you back to town," she said. "We'll dine at the Ritz. I want to meet a woman there. Wait a minute or two while I change my frock. I think you've done wonders to get hold of that map.

Gordon will be most excited. He'll be in Inverness to-morrow, and I'll wire to him."

"Guardedly," he urged.

"Why, of course," she laughed. "But that poor old bobby with a dose of Number Two! I bet he's feeling pretty rotten!"

"It was the only way," declared the cosmopolitan adventurer. "I wasn't going to be hauled to the station and lose the map."

"Of course not. Well, have another drink and wait a few minutes," the woman said, whereupon he began to chat with old Claribut.

"I suppose the Riviera looks a bit hot and dusty just now," remarked Jimmie, the butler.

"Yes. But Freda's a wonder, isn't she?" remarked Allen. "I've been asking her about that girl Edna. What has become of her?"

"I don't know, d.i.c.k. So don't ask me," Claribut answered, as he smoked one of Gordon's cigars. Truly that was a strange menage.

"But surely you know something," Allen said. "No, I don't," snapped old Jimmie.

"Ah! you know something--something very private, eh?" remarked the wily d.i.c.k. "I suppose you are aware that old Sandys has a firm of inquiry agents out looking for her?"

"Has he really?" laughed Claribut. "Well, then let them find her. Who has he called in?"

"Fuller--who used to be at the Yard. You recollect him. He had you once, so you'd better be careful."

"Yes, he had me for pa.s.sing bad notes in Brussels," remarked the old man grimly. "So old Sandys is employing him?"

"Yes, and the old man is determined to know the whereabouts of Edna Manners."

"I don't think he'll ever know. But how came you to know about it?"

"I have a pal who is a friend of Fuller's--Jack Shawford. He told me.

Sandys suspects that something serious has happened to the girl."

At this Claribut became very grave.

"What makes him suspect it? He surely doesn't know that the girl was acquainted with that old parson Homfray!"

"No. I don't think so," was the reply.

"Ah! That's good. If he had any suspicion of that, then Fuller might get on the right track, you know, because of this mining concession in Morocco."

"What connexion has that with the disappearance of the pretty Edna?"

asked his fellow crook, in ignorance.

"Oh! it's a complicated affair, and it would take a long time to explain--but it _has_!"

"Then you know all about Edna and what has happened! I see it in your face, Jimmie! Just tell me in confidence."

But the wary old man who had spent many years in prison cells only smiled and shook his head.

"I don't interfere with other people's affairs, d.i.c.k. You know that.

I've enough to do to look after my own."

"_But where is Edna_? Is she--dead?"

The old man merely shrugged his shoulders with a gesture of uncertainty and ignorance.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE LIGHT OF LOVE.

It had been all summer--endless, cloudless summer in England, from the time of the violets to the now ripening corn. And there was no foreboding of storm or winter in the air that glorious day.

It was yet quite early in the morning, and high on the Hog's Back, that ridge of the Surrey Hills that runs from Farnham towards Guildford, the gentle coolness of daybreak had not left the air.

Roddy and Elma had met for an early morning walk, she being again alone at the Towers. They had been walking across the fields and woods for an hour, and were now high up upon the hill which on one side gave views far away to the misty valley of the Thames, and on the other to Hindhead and the South Downs. The hill rose steep and sombre, its sides dark with chestnut woods, and all about them the fields were golden with the harvest.

They were tired with their walk, so they threw themselves down upon the gra.s.sy hillside and gazed away across the wide vista of hills and woodlands.

"How glorious it is!" declared the girl, looking fresh and sweet in a white frock and wide-brimmed summer hat trimmed with a saxe-blue scarf.

"Delightful! This walk is worth getting up early to take!" he remarked with soft love laughter, looking into her wonderful eyes that at the moment were fixed in fascination upon the scene.