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"Oh, nothing in particular; only that I'd like to borrow some. Who are the two men in question?"
"Lord St. Ulmer, for one."
"Lord St.---- Hum-m-m! Just so! Just so! And the other; who's he?"
"Why, my dad. Used it for years, bless his bully old heart!"
"Your---- Good-bye!" said Cleek with a curious "snap" in his voice; then he faced round suddenly and walked back down the underground pa.s.sage and left Geoff to go his way.
But if he said nothing his thoughts were busy; and this new move in the game, this new fish in the net, troubled him a great deal. He could not but remember that Sir Philip Clavering was this young man's adoring father; that he was also Lady Clavering's husband, who, as he had just heard from her stepson, was an Austrian; that the pseudo Count de Louvisan was also an Austrian, and after his unexpected appearance at Clavering Close last night Lady Clavering had had a sudden attack of illness, had left her guests at supper and retired to her own room, and afterward had gone out on the Common and had bribed the keeper not to mention having seen her.
Why did she go out? Of course that was all nonsense about her being anxious over Geoff; but, still--why? To meet some one? You never could be quite sure, quite safe, in dealing with those Continental women.
After all, morality is merely a question of geography. Suppose--simply by way of argument, you know, nothing more--suppose the lady had had a love affair years before Sir Philip Clavering had met and married her?
Suppose when De Louvisan turned up she had recognized in him, and he had recognized in her---- Quite so! Quite so! De Louvisan, an adventurer pure and simple, would be likely to make capital out of a hold obtained over the wife of an English millionaire. It would be imperative for her to see him at once and buy his silence if she could. Of course! Of course! Gleer Cottage was within easy reaching distance; Gleer Cottage was known to be absolutely deserted; and if one wanted to have a secret interview---- And to carry the hypothesis further, suppose Sir Philip Clavering, anxious over his wife's condition, should run up to her room to inquire about her, and, finding her gone, should trace her movements, go out after her, follow until he came to Gleer Cottage; and as soon as she and De Louvisan had parted---- Well, there you are! Then, too, Sir Philip Clavering was addicted to the use of black cosmetic! And the marks on the dead man's s.h.i.+rt front were---- Heigho! You never know! You never know! But for the boy's sake and for the sake of Narkom's fondness for both----
His thoughts dropped off. He had come again to the cell where the murdered keeper's clothes lay, just where he had flung them down when the coming of Geoff and Lady Katharine had attracted his attention and turned his interest in another direction. Now he had time to turn to them again.
If, by any chance, it really had been Sir Philip Clavering, how came these clothes buried in the grounds of Wuthering Grange? Of course the General's "ruin" was famous all over the district; and, naturally, if a man of Sir Philip Clavering's keen wits were the a.s.sa.s.sin, he would take means to get the things hidden away as expeditiously as possible, and as far away from his own place as circ.u.mstances would permit. He wouldn't know, of course, that circ.u.mstances would arise that would point to an occupant of Wuthering Grange--Lady Katharine--being implicated and any search of the place result, and he would be quite free from wis.h.i.+ng to lead the trail in that direction. Of course, when he learned that he had done so--as learn everybody must in a day or two--he would do his best to get rid of the things, and when that happened---- Ah, well! poor devil, it would be the end of one rope and the beginning of another.
It was an old, old trick of the a.s.sa.s.sin's, this burying things and then harking back to the spot either to remove them or to see if they were safe; and this a.s.sa.s.sin, whosoever he might prove to be, would be sure to follow the universal precedent. When he did----! Cleek bundled the clothing back into the hole, took up the spade, shovelled back the earth, and made the spot look as nearly as possible as it had been when he stumbled upon it.
"A little bit of spy work for Dollops," was his unspoken thought. "He can spend a few days down here very profitably, and be ready to give the signal when the man comes."
He put the spade back in the place where he had found it, and, facing about, went up the stone steps, and after replacing the movable slab, made his way out of the ruin; for it was now time to be about the task of dressing for dinner and what promised to be an eventful evening.
Should he take Miss Lorne into his confidence or not? Yes, he fancied that he would. For one thing, she knew Lady Clavering and he did not, and as it would be necessary for him to get out after dark and prowl about the Common to learn if her ladys.h.i.+p did or did not join in the search for the missing Geoff----Hullo! What the d.i.c.kens was that?
A very simple thing, indeed, when he came to investigate it. By this time he had come abreast of the house itself, and was moving along under the shadow of the deepening twilight when the circ.u.mstances which sent his thoughts off from the plans he was mapping out occurred. It was nothing more nor less than the fluttering down through the still air of a soft flaky substance, which struck him in the face and then dropped softly upon his sleeve--a small charred sc.r.a.p of burnt paper. He looked up, and saw that it had fallen from other charred sc.r.a.ps that clung to the p.r.i.c.kly branches of a huge monkey-puzzle tree close to the angle where a recently added wing joined the main structure of the house.
A window was above that tree, and a chimney was above that window.
Hum-m-m! Second window from the angle--Lord St. Ulmer's room. What was Lord St. Ulmer burning papers for? What sort of papers had he that it was necessary for him--a supposed invalid--to get out of bed and destroy? And why in the world should he choose this particular day to do it? And a lot of paper, too, by George! judging from the quant.i.ty of charred sc.r.a.ps clinging to that monkey-puzzle. What an a.s.s the man was to burn things when there was no wind to carry off the ashes and when---- He looked down and saw one or two half-burned discs of paper, which had escaped entire destruction, lying upon the gravel of the path.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
He stooped and picked one up. It was a circular white label, printed on one side and gummed on the other, just the sort of label which chemists and proprietors of patent ointments use to affix to the lids of the round tin boxes containing their wares. The thing was partly burnt away until, from being originally a complete circle, it was now merely a "half moon" of white paper with charred fragments clinging to the fire-bitten gap in it.
He turned the thing over and looked at its printed side. Part of that printing had been destroyed, but there was still enough of it to show for what the label had been prepared.
Evidently Lord St. Ulmer had been engaged in burning labels, unused labels, that had been prepared for boxes containing a patent blacking for boots, shoes, and leather goods generally.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A BOLD STROKE
Cleek stood a moment holding the burnt label between his thumb and forefinger and regarding it silently, his face a blank as far as any expression of his feelings was concerned. Then, of a sudden, his gaze transferred itself to one of the two other labels which, like this one, had escaped entire destruction by the fire; and carefully picking them up, he laid them inside his pocket notebook, gave a casual, offhand sort of glance at the windows of Lord St. Ulmer's room, and then quietly resumed his sauntering walk in the direction of the house.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
The twilight was now so rapidly fading that it might be said to be all but dark when he reached the main entrance to the building and found one of the footmen busily engaged in lighting up the huge electric chandelier which served to illuminate the broad hallway of the Grange.
But neither the General nor any of the ladies was visible, all, as he correctly surmised, being engaged in the matter of dressing for dinner.
"Pardon me, sir," said the footman, turning at the sound of his step as he came in, "I was just about to step out into the grounds to ascertain if you might not, by chance, have lost yourself or failed to hear the dressing gong, sir. It is quite half an hour since Miss Lorne requested me to be on the lookout for you, and I was getting anxious."
"Extremely kind of you, I must say," said Cleek serenely. "But never give yourself any uneasiness upon my account so long as I remain here. I am given to taking my time on all occasions, my man. I think out all the plots of my novels prowling about in silence and alone, and an interruption is apt to destroy a train of thought forever." And having thus given the man an idea that he was an author--and accounted beforehand for any possible need for prowling about the place when the others were asleep--he went further, and gave him half a crown to salve his injured feelings, and won in return for it something which he would have held cheaply bought at a sovereign.
"Now tell me," he went on, "why did Miss Lorne ask you to be 'on the lookout' for me? Has anything extraordinary occurred?"
"Oh, no indeed, sir," replied the footman with a full half-crown's worth of urbanity; the generosity of the gentleman had touched him on his weakest part. "You see, sir, it being the butler's evening off, and Mr.
Harry having been called away before any arrangements were made with regard to your sleeping quarters, sir, Miss Lorne requested me to say that she had spoken to mistress, and you were to have any vacant suite in the house which might best meet your pleasure, sir. I was to wait here and conduct you through all the unoccupied ones in the house."
Cleek smiled. Oho! That was it, eh? Well, there was a thoughtful ally and no mistake! Knowing full well that it would be awkward for him to be put off into some inconvenient wing of the house, should he have cause to leave it secretly and to communicate with Dollops and Narkom at any time, she had taken this step to serve and to a.s.sist him. What a woman!
What a gem of a woman she was!
His thoughts worked rapidly, and his mind was made up in a twinkling.
"Quite so, quite so! Very kind and very thoughtful," he said composedly.
"I always prefer the second story of a building--it's a fad of mine, and Miss Lorne recollects it. So if there are any rooms vacant upon the second floor----"
"Only one, sir, and it's the least comfortable one in the house, I'm afraid, being next to that occupied by Lord St. Ulmer."
"Lord St.--oh, ah--yes! That's the gentleman who is ill, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir. That's why I spoke of it as being uncomfortable. Butler says he's a very crochety gentleman. But sick folk are always that, sir; so maybe you'd be disturbed a deal in the night."
"Hum-m-m! Yes, that is a drawback, certainly. Might take it into his head to get up and wander about during the night, and so keep one awake.
Does he?"
"I couldn't say, sir; never set eyes on him since he arrived. n.o.body in the house has except master and butler. Don't think he would be likely to move about much, though, sir, for I've heard his ankle's sprained and he can't put a foot to the ground. Butler always carries up his meals; at least, he has done it so far, his lords.h.i.+p having arrived only the night before last. Like as not I'll have to carry up his dinner to-night, this being, as I've said, sir, butler's evening off."
Cleek made a mental tally. Then if none of the servants at the Grange had seen his lords.h.i.+p, with the single exception of Johnston, the butler---- Quite so, quite so! His lords.h.i.+p wouldn't know what the other servants were like, so, of course---- He glanced at the footman out of the tail of his eye. Livery, dark bottle-green--almost black; would pa.s.s for black in anything but a brilliant light. Waistcoat, narrow black and yellow stripes. No cords, no silver b.u.t.tons. Hum-m-m! With a black-and-yellow striped waistcoat and in a none too brilliantly lighted room--and a sickroom was not likely to be anything else unless the man was too much of an a.s.s to keep up the illusion by attending to details--an ordinary suit of evening clothes would do the trick. And he wouldn't have a doctor and wouldn't see any outsiders, this Lord St.
Ulmer, eh? Oh, well--you never know your luck, my lord; you never do!
Mental processes are more rapid in the action than in the recording. Not ten seconds had pa.s.sed from the time the footman ceased speaking when Cleek answered him.
"Oh, well, if it's a case like that, and his lords.h.i.+p isn't likely to disturb me by wandering round his room in the night, I dare say I can risk the rest, as I'm a very sound sleeper. The room's on the second floor; that's the main thing," he said offhandedly. "So you may show me to it at once."
"Very good, sir; this way if you please, sir," the footman replied, and forthwith led him to the room in question.
It was one immediately adjoining that occupied by Lord St. Ulmer, but unfortunately, having no connection with it, the wall which divided the two was quite solid. Had there been a door---- But there was not. Cleek saw at a glance that matters were not to be simplified in that way; whoever might wish to see into that room must first _get_ into it: there was no other way.
"All right, this will do; you may go," he said as soon as he was shown to the place he had chosen; and taking him at his word, the footman gently closed the door and disappeared. Cleek gave him but a minute or two to get below stairs, then slipped out on tiptoe and followed, getting out of the house unseen and running at all speed in the direction of the stables.
At the angle of the wall he stopped suddenly, and began to whistle "Kathleen Mavourneen." He hadn't rounded off the third bar before the wall door clicked and swung open, and Dollops was beside him.
"Kit bag--quick!" whispered Cleek. "Need an evening suit, and the chap who was going to lend me one went off and forgot all about it. Move sharp, I'm in a hurry."