Hugo Part 27

'Where are you, then?' Hugo demanded.

'Not far off,' replied the mysterious voice in the telephone.

It was unmistakably the voice of Louis Ravengar, but apparently touched with some new quality, some quality of resigned and dignified despair.

Hugo wondered where the man could be. And the sinister magic of the telephone, which brought this sad, quiet voice to him from somewhere out of the immensity of England, but which would not yield up the secret of its hiding, struck him strangely.

'Are you there?' said the voice yet again.

'Yes.'

Hugo s.h.i.+vered, but whether it was from cold--he wore nothing but his pyjamas--or from apprehension he could not decide.

'I'm saying good-bye,' said the voice once more. 'I suppose you mean to have the police after me, and so I mean to get out of their way. See?

But first I wished to tell you--_crrrck cluck_--Eh? What?'

'I didn't speak.'

'It's these Exchange hussies, then. I wanted to tell you I've thought a lot about our interview last night. What you said was true enough, Owen.

I admit that, and so I am going to end it. Eh? Are you there? That girl keeps putting me off.'

'End what?'

'End _it_--_it_--_it_! I'm not making anybody happy, not even myself, and so I'm going to end it. But I'll tell you her address first. I know it.'

'Whose address?'

'Hers--Camilla's. If I tell you, will you promise not to say a word about me speaking to you on the telephone this morning?'

'Yes.'

'Not a word under any circ.u.mstances?'

'Certainly.'

'Well, it's 17, Place Saint-etienne, Bruges, Belgium.'

'17, Place Saint-etienne, Bruges. That's all right. I shan't forget.

Look here, Louis, you'd better clear out of England. Go to America. Do you hear? I don't understand this about "ending it." You surely aren't thinking of--'

He felt quite magnanimous towards Ravengar. And he was aware that he could get to Bruges in six hours or so.

'That idea of yours about chloroform,' said the voice, 'and going into the vault, and being shut up there, is a very good one. n.o.body would know, except the person whom one paid to shut the door after one.'

'I say, where are you?' Hugo asked curtly. He was at a loss how to treat these singular confidences.

'And so is that idea good about merely ending one incarnation and beginning another. That's much better than calling it death.'

'I shall ring you off,' said Hugo.

'Wait a moment,' said the voice, still patiently. 'If you should hear the name Callear--'

There was a pause.

'Well?' Hugo inquired, 'what name?'

'Callear--C-a-l-l-e-a-r. If you should hear that name soon--'

'What then?'

'Remember your promise of secrecy--that's all. Good-bye.'

'I wish you'd tell me where you are.'

'Not far off,' said the voice. 'I shall never be far off, I think. When you've found Camilla and brought her here'--the tone of the voice changed and grew almost malignant despite its reticence--'you'd like to know that I was always near to, somewhere underneath, mouldering, wouldn't you?'

'What did you say?'

'I said mouldering. Good-bye.'

'But look here--'

The bell rang off. Louis Ravengar had finished his good-bye. Hugo tried in vain to resume communication with him. He could not even get any sort of reply from the Exchange.

'It's a queer world,' he soliloquized, as he returned to bed. 'What does the man mean?'

He was still happy in the prospect of finding Camilla, but it was as though his happiness were a pool in a private ground, and some trespa.s.ser had troubled it with a stone.

The clock struck ten, and Simon entered with tea and the paper.

CHAPTER XXI

SUICIDE

The paper contained a whole-page advertis.e.m.e.nt of Hugo's great annual sale, and also a special half-page advertis.e.m.e.nt headed 'Hugo's Apology and Promise'--a message to the public asking pardon of the public for the confusion, inconvenience, and disappointments of the previous day, hinting that the mystery of the affair would probably be elucidated in a criminal court, and stating that a prodigious number of silvered fox-stoles would positively be available from nine o'clock that morning at a price even lower than the figure named in the original announcement. The message further stated that a special Complaint Office had been opened as a branch of the Inquiry Bureau, and that all complaints by customers who had suffered on New Year's Day would there be promptly and handsomely dealt with.

In addition to Hugo's advertis.e.m.e.nts, there were several columns of news describing the singular phenomena of the sale, concluding with what a facetious reporter had ent.i.tled 'Interviews with Survivors.'

As he read the detailed accounts Hugo knew, perhaps for the first time in his life, what it was 'to go hot and cold all over.' However, he was decidedly inclined to be optimistic.

'Anyhow,' he said, 'it's the best ad. I ever had. Still, it's a mercy there were no deaths.'

He began to dress hurriedly, furiously. Already the second day of the sale had been in progress for more than an hour, and he had not even visited the scene of the campaign. Simon had said nothing; it was not Simon's habit to speak till he was spoken to. And Hugo did not feel inclined to ask questions; he preferred to reconnoitre in person. Yes, he would descend instantly, and afterwards, when he had satisfied himself that the evil had been repaired, he would consider about Camilla.... By neglecting all else, he could reach her in time for dinner.... Should he?... (At this point he plunged into his cold bath.) ... No! He was Hugo before he was Camilla's lover. He would be a tradesman for yet another ten hours. He had a duty to London....

Then Ravengar wandered into his thoughts and confused them.