A Coin of Edward VII Part 17

"I shouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Ware," said the old lady dryly.

"Better let sleeping dogs lie. I don't believe the whole story myself--only part of it."

"What part, Mrs. Cairns?"

"That part which says you love Anne. I can see it in your face."

"If I can trust you----"

"Certainly you can. Anne is like my own child. I believe her guiltless of this terrible crime, and I would do anything to see her righted. She did not kill the girl."

"No, I believe the girl was killed by a nameless man who came to Rickwell from some firm of solicitors. I don't know why he murdered the poor child, no more than I can understand why Anne should have helped him to escape."

"You call her Anne," said Mrs. Cairns softly.

Giles flushed through the tan of his strong face.

"I have no right to do so," he said. "She never gave me permission. Mrs.

Cairns, I a.s.sure you that there was no understanding between Miss Denham and myself. I was engaged by my father to Miss Kent, and we were to be married. I fell in love with Miss Denham, and I have reason to believe that she returned my love."

"She told you so?"

"No, no! She and I never said words like that to one another. We were friends; nothing more. Miss Kent chose to be jealous of a trifling gift I gave Miss Denham at Christmas, and there was trouble. Then came an anonymous letter, saying that Anne wished to kill Daisy."

"A letter, and said that?" exclaimed Mrs. Cairns in surprise. "But I can't understand it at all. Anne had no enemies, so far as I know. No one could hate so sweet a girl. Her father----"

"Did you know her father?" asked Ware quickly.

"No; but she often spoke of him. She was fond of her father, although he seems to have been a wandering Bohemian. He died at Florence."

"I wonder if he really did die."

"Of course. He--but it's a long story, Mr. Ware, and I have not the time to tell it to you. Besides, there is one who can tell you all about Anne and her father much better than I can. The Princess Karacsay. Do you know her?"

"I have seen the name somewhere."

"Probably on a programme," said Mrs. Cairns composedly. "Oh, don't look so astonished. The Princess is really a Hungarian aristocrat. She quarrelled with her people, and came to England with very little money.

To keep herself alive she tried to become a governess. Afterwards, having a beautiful voice, she became a concert singer. I hear she is very popular."

"How should she know about Anne--I mean Miss Denham?"

"Because if there is any woman to whom Anne would go in her distress, it would be the Princess. She met Anne here while she was a governess, and the two became great friends. They were always together. I do not know where Anne is, Mr. Ware. She did not come to me, nor has she written; but if she is in England the Princess will know."

"Do you think she would tell me?" asked Giles eagerly.

"I really don't know. She is romantic, and if she learned that you loved Anne she might be inclined to help you. But that would depend upon Anne herself. How is she disposed towards you?"

For answer Giles related the episode of the foreign letter, with the drawing of the coin and the one word "Innocent." Mrs. Cairns listened quietly, and nodded.

"Evidently Anne values your good opinion. I think you had better tell all this to the Princess." She hastily wrote a few lines. "This is her address."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

"And, Mr. Ware," added the old lady, laying a kind hand on his arm, "if you hear about Anne, come and tell me. I hope with all my soul that you will be able to save the poor child."

"If human aid can prove her innocence, you can depend upon me," was Ware's reply. And taking leave of Mrs. Cairns, he left the Inst.i.tute with his heart beating and his head in the air.

Giles was glad that his good fortune had led him to meet this true friend of the woman he loved. He was also glad that he had been so open with her about his pa.s.sion, else she might not have sent him to the Princess Karacsay. As the name came into his mind he glanced down at the paper, which he still held. The address of Anne's friend was "42, Gilbert Mansions, Westminster." Giles resolved to lose no time in looking her up. She would be able to tell him where Anne was, and also might be able to explain the mystery of Anne's life in general, and her conduct at Rickwell in particular.

For there was some mystery about Miss Denham. Ware was quite certain on that point. She had said that her father was dead, and circ.u.mstances pointed to the fact that her father was alive and was the nameless man who had appeared and disappeared so suddenly. Then there was the strange episode of the anonymous letter, and the queer reference therein to the Scarlet Cross. Also the fact that the yacht in which Anne had fled was called _The Red Cross_. All these things hinted at a mystery, and such might in some indirect way be connected with the death of Daisy Kent.

Anne had not killed her; but since she had aided the murderer to escape she must have condoned the crime in some way. Ware shuddered as he looked at the matter in this light. What if Anne knew something about the matter after all? The next moment he put the thought from him with anger. Anne was good and pure, and her hands were clean from the stain of blood. Such a woman would not--could not commit a crime either directly or indirectly. When he saw her he would ask for an explanation, and once she opened her mouth all would be made plain.

Arguing thus with himself, Giles wrote a letter to the Princess Karacsay and asked for an interview. He mentioned that he had seen Mrs. Cairns and that the old lady had furnished him with the address. Also, he said that his wish in seeing the Princess was to ask for the whereabouts of Miss Denham. Having despatched this note, Giles felt that he could do no more until he received a reply.

But he was too restless to remain quiet. It occurred to him that he might look up Steel and learn what fresh discoveries had been made in connection with the Rickwell crime. He went to New Scotland Yard and asked for the detective, but learned to his surprise and vexation that the man was out of town and was not expected back for a week. No one could say where he had gone, so Giles had to satisfy himself with leaving a card and promising to call again.

The next day he received a note from the Princess Karacsay asking him to come the next evening at nine o'clock. She said nothing about Anne, nor did she volunteer any information. She simply appointed an hour and a place for the interview and signed herself Olga Karacsay. Giles felt that she had been intentionally curt, and wondered if she intended to give him a civil reception. After some thought he decided that she meant to be kind, although the note read so coldly. He would go, and perhaps during the interview she might be persuaded to help him. After all, she must know that he had been engaged to marry the dead girl, and fancied--as Mrs. Cairns had done--that he wished to have Anne arrested.

The following evening he arrayed himself with particular care and drove in a hansom to Westminster. The cab stopped before a great pile of brick buildings near the Abbey, and when Giles had dismissed it he entered a large and well-lighted hall with a tesselated pavement. Here a porter volunteered, on ascertaining his business, to conduct him to the door of the Princess Karacsay's flat, which was on the first floor.

Giles was admitted by a neat maid-servant, who showed him into a picturesque drawing-room. A tall woman in evening dress was standing beside the window in the twilight. Giles thought her figure was familiar and recognized the turn of her head. He uttered a cry.

"Anne," he said, stretching his arms. "Anne, my dearest!"

CHAPTER XI

PRINCESS KARACSAY

Even as he spoke the room was flooded with the light of the electric lamps. The woman by the window turned and came forward smiling. With a feeling of bitter disappointment Giles recoiled. It was not Anne. He had been deceived by a chance resemblance.

"I can quite understand your mistake," said the Princess Karacsay. "It is not the first time that I have been taken for my friend."

Indeed, she was very like Anne, both in figure and face. She had the same dark hair and dark eyes, the same oval face and rich coloring. But her expression was different. She was more haughty than Miss Denham, and there was less simplicity in her manner. Even as Ware looked at her the likeness seemed to vanish, and he wondered that he should have made such a mistake. But for the twilight, the turn of her head, and her height, together with the way in which she carried herself, he would not have been deceived.

"One would take you for Miss Denham's sister," he said when seated.

The Princess smiled oddly. "We are alike in many ways," she replied quietly. "I look upon Miss Denham as my second self. You called me Anne when you mistook me for her," she added, with a keen glance.

"I have no right to do so, Princess, but----" He hesitated, not knowing how to choose his words. She saw his perplexity and smiled.

"I quite understand, Mr. Ware."

"Anne--I mean Miss Denham--has told you about me?"

"I have not seen her for months, Mr. Ware, not since that terrible event which has made a fugitive of her."