Between the Dark and the Daylight Part 16

Mr. Golden interposed, "We presented the cheque, and it was duly honoured. On the face of such proof as that, what could we suppose?"

The Duke was moving about the room--it seemed, a little restlessly.

"It didn't necessarily follow, because a woman paid for her purchases with a cheque of mine that that woman was the d.u.c.h.ess of Datchet."

"I think, under the peculiar circ.u.mstances of the case, that it did. At least, the presumption was strong upon that side. May I ask to whom your Grace's cheque was given?"

"You may ask, but I don't see why I should tell you. It was honoured, and that is sufficient."

"I don't think it is sufficient, and I don't think that your Grace will think so either, if you consider for a moment. If it had not been for the strong presumptive evidence of your Grace's cheque, we should not have been robbed of many thousand pounds."

The Duke of Datchet paced restlessly to and fro. Messrs. Ruby and Golden watched him. At last he moved towards his writing table. He sat down on the chair behind it. He stretched out his legs in front of him.

He thrust his hands into his trousers pockets.

"I'll make a clean breast of it. You fellows can keep a still tongue in your heads--keep a still tongue about what I am going to tell you." His hearers bowed. They were coming to the point--at last. "Eh"--in spite of his announced intention of making a clean breast of it, his Grace rather stumbled in his speech. "Before I was married I--I had some acquaintance with--with a certain lady. When I married, that acquaintance ceased. On the last occasion on which I saw her she informed me that she was indebted to you in the sum of a thousand pounds for jewellery. I gave her a cheque to discharge her liability to you, and to make sure that she did discharge the liability, I made the cheque payable to you, which, I now perceive, was perhaps not the wisest thing I could have done. But, at the same time, I wish you clearly to comprehend that I have every reason to believe that the lady referred to is, to put it mildly, a most unlikely person to--to rob any one."

"We must request you to furnish us with that lady's name and address.

And I would advise your Grace to accompany us in an immediate visit to that lady."

"That is your advice is it, Mr. Golden? I am not sure that I appreciate it quite so much as it may possibly deserve."

"Otherwise, as you will yourself perceive, we shall be compelled to put the matter at once in the hands of the police, and, your Grace, there will be a scandal."

The Duke of Datchet reflected. He looked at Mr. Golden, he looked at Mr. Ruby, he looked at the ceiling, he looked at the floor, he looked at his boots--then he looked back again at Mr. Golden. At last he rose.

He shook himself a little--as if to shake his clothes into their proper places. He seemed to have threshed the _pros_ and _cons_ of the matter well out, mentally, and to have finally decided.

"As I do not want a scandal, I think I will take your excellent advice, Mr. Golden--which I now really do appreciate at its proper value--and accompany you upon that little visit. Shall we go at once?"

"At once--if your Grace pleases."

CHAPTER III

The Duke of Datchet's brougham, containing the Duke of Datchet himself upon one seat, and Messrs. Ruby and Golden cheek by jowl upon the other, drew up in front of a charming villa in the most charming part of charming St. John's Wood. The Duke's ring--for the Duke himself did ring, and there was no knocker--was answered by a most unimpeachable-looking man-servant in livery. The man-servant was not only unimpeachable-looking--which every servant ought to look--but good-looking, too, which, in a servant, is not regarded as quite so indispensable. He was, indeed, so good-looking as to be quite a "beauty man." So young, too! A mere youth!

When this man-servant opened the door, and saw to whom he had opened it, he started. And not only did he start, but Messrs. Ruby and Golden started too, particularly Mr. Golden. The Duke of Datchet, if he observed this little by-play, did not condescend to notice it.

"Is Mrs. Mansfield in?"

"I believe so. I will enquire. What name?"

"Never mind the name, and I will make my own enquiries. You needn't announce me, I know the way."

The Duke of Datchet seemed to know the way very well indeed. He led the way up the staircase; Messrs. Ruby and Golden followed. The man-servant remained at the foot of the stairs, as if doubtful whether or not he ought to follow. When they had reached the landing, and the man-servant, still remaining below, was out of sight, Mr. Golden turned to Mr. Ruby.

"Where on earth have I seen that man before?"

"I was just addressing to myself the same enquiry," said Mr. Ruby.

The Duke paused. He turned to the partners.

"What's that? The servant? Have you seen the man before? The plot is thickening. I am afraid 'the d.u.c.h.ess' is getting warm."

Apparently the Duke knew his way so well that he did not think it necessary to announce himself at the door of the room to which he led the partners. He simply turned the handle and went in, Messrs. Ruby and Golden close upon his heels. The room which he had entered was a pretty room, and contained a pretty occupant. A lady, young and fair, rose from a couch which was at the opposite side of the apartment, and, as was most justifiable under the circ.u.mstances, stared: "Hereward!"

"Mrs. Mansfield!"

"Whatever brings you here?"

"My dear Mrs. Mansfield, I have come to ask you what you think of Mr.

Kesteeven's necklace."

"Hereward, what do you mean?"

The Duke's manner changed from jest to earnest.

"Rather, Gertrude, what do you mean? What have I done that deserved such a return from you? What have I done to you that you should have endeavoured to drag my wife's name in the mire?"

The lady stared. "I have no more idea what you are talking about than the man in the moon!"

"You dare to tell me so, in the presence of these men?"

"In the presence of what men?"

"In the presence of your victims--of Mr. Ruby and of Mr. Golden?"

Mr. Golden advanced a step or two.

"Excuse me, your Grace--this is not the lady."

"Eh?"

"This is not the lady."

"Not what lady?"

"This is not the lady who called herself the d.u.c.h.ess of Datchet."

"What the d.i.c.kens do you mean? Really, Mr. Ruby and Mr. Golden, you seem to be leading me a pretty fine wild goose chase--a pretty fine wild goose chase! I know it will end in kicking--someone. You told me that the person to whom I had given that cheque was the person who had bestowed on you her patronage. This is the person to whom I gave that cheque."

"This is not the person who gave that cheque to us."

"Then--then who the devil did?"

"That, your Grace, is the point--will this lady allow me to ask her one or two questions?"

"Fire away--ask fifty!"