The Holladay Case Part 26

She sat for a moment with eyes inwardly intent.

"There's one theory which might explain it--part of it. Perhaps it wasn't Miss Holladay at all who returned from Was.h.i.+ngton Square with the new maid. Perhaps it was the other woman, and the barred windows were really to keep Miss Holladay a prisoner. Think of her there, in that place, with Martigny for her jailer!"

"But she wasn't there!" I protested. "We saw her when we gave her the money. Royce and I saw her--so did Mr. Graham."

"Yes--in a darkened room, with a bandage about her forehead; so hoa.r.s.e she could scarcely speak. No wonder Mr. Royce hardly knew her!"

I stopped a moment to consider.

"Remember, that would explain something which admits of no other reasonable explanation," went on my companion; "the barred windows and the behavior of the prisoner."

"It would explain that, certainly," I admitted, though, at first thought, the theory did not appeal to me. "You believe, then that Miss Holladay was forcibly abducted?"

"Undoubtedly. If her mind was going to give way at all, it would have done so at once, and not two weeks after the tragedy."

"But if she had brooded over it," I objected.

"She wasn't brooding--at least, she had ceased to brood. You have Mr.

Royce's word and the butler's word that she was getting better, brighter, quite like her old self again. Why should she relapse?"

"I don't know," I said helplessly. "The more I reason about it, the more unreasonable it all seems. Besides, that affair last night has upset me so that I can't think clearly. I feel that I was careless--that I wasn't doing my duty."

"I shouldn't worry about it; though, of course," she added a little severely, "you've realized by this time that you alone are to blame for Martigny's presence on the boat."

"But I had to go to the Jourdains'," I protested, "and I couldn't help their going to him--to have asked them not to go would have made them suspect me at once."

"Oh, yes; but, at least, you needn't have sent them. They might not have gone at all--certainly they wouldn't have gone so promptly--if you hadn't sent them."

"Sent them?" I repeated, and stared at her in amazement, doubting if I had heard aright.

"Yes, sent them," she said again, emphatically. "Why do you suppose they went to the hospital so early the next morning?"

"I supposed they had become suspicious of me."

"Nonsense! What possible reason could they have for becoming suspicious of you. On the contrary, it was because they were _not_ suspicious of you, because they wished to please you, to air your room for you; because, in a word, you asked them to go--they went after the key to those padlocks on the window-shutters. Of course, Martigny had it."

For a moment, I was too nonplused to speak; I could only stare at her.

Then I found my tongue.

"Well, I _was_ a fool, wasn't I?" I demanded bitterly. "To think that I shouldn't have foreseen that! I was so worked up over my discovery that night that I couldn't think of anything else. Of course, when they asked for the key, the whole story came out."

"I shouldn't blame myself too severely," laughed Miss Kemball, as she looked at my rueful countenance. "I myself think it's rather fortunate that he's on the boat."

"Fortunate? You don't mean that!"

"Precisely that. Suppose the Jourdains hadn't gone to him; he'd have left the hospital anyway in two or three days--he isn't the man to lie inactive when he knew you were searching for the fugitives. He'd have returned, then, to his apartment next to yours; your landlady would have told him that you had sailed for Europe, and he had only to examine this boat's pa.s.senger-list to discover your name. So you see there wasn't so much lost, after all."

"But, at any rate," I pointed out, "he would still have been in America. He couldn't have caught us. We'd have had a good start of him."

"He couldn't have caught you, but a cablegram would have pa.s.sed you in mid-ocean, warning his confederates. If they have time to conceal their prisoner, you'll never find her--your only hope is in catching them unprepared. And there's another reason--since he's on the boat, you've another opportunity--why not go and have a talk with him--that battle of wits you were looking forward to?"

"I'd thought of that," I said; "but I'm afraid I couldn't play the part."

"The part?"

"Of seeming not to suspect him, of being quite frank and open with him, of appearing to tell him all my plans. I'm afraid he'd see through me in the first moment and catch me tripping. It's too great a risk."

"The advantage would be on your side," she pointed out; "you could tell him so many things which he already knows, and which he has no reason to suspect you know he knows--it sounds terribly involved, doesn't it? But you understand?"

"Oh, yes; I understand."

"And then, it would be the natural thing for you to look him up as soon as you learned he was ill. To avoid him will be to confess that you suspect him."

"But his name isn't on the pa.s.senger list. If I hadn't happened to see him as he came on board, I'd probably not have known it at all."

"Perhaps he saw you at the same time."

"Then the fat's in the fire," I said. "If he knows I know he's on board, then he also knows that I suspect him; if he doesn't know, why, there's no reason for him to think that I'll find it out, unless he appears in the cabin; which doesn't seem probable."

She sat silent for a moment, looking out across the water.

"Perhaps you're right," she said at last; "there's no use taking any unnecessary risks. The thing appealed to me--I think I should enjoy a half-hour's talk with him, matching my wits against his."

"But yours are brighter than mine," I pointed out. "You've proved it pretty effectually in the last few minutes."

"No I haven't; I've simply shown you that you overlooked one little thing. And I think you're right about the danger of going to Martigny.

Our first duty is to Miss Holladay; we must rescue her before he can warn his confederates to place her out of our reach."

The unstudied way in which she said "our" filled me with an unreasoning happiness.

"But why should they bother with a prisoner at all? They didn't shrink from striking down her father?"

"And they may not shrink from striking her down, at a favorable moment," she answered calmly. "It will be easier in France than in New York--they perhaps have the necessary preparations already made--they may be only hesitating--a warning from Martigny may turn the scale."

My hands were trembling at the thought of it. If we should really be too late!

"But I don't believe they'll go to such extremes, Mr. Lester,"

continued my companion. "I believe you're going to find her and solve the mystery. My theory doesn't solve it, you know; it only makes it deeper. The mystery, after all, is--who are these people?--why did they kill Mr. Holladay?--why have they abducted his daughter?--what is their plot?"

"Yes," I a.s.sented; and again I had a moment of confused perplexity, as of a man staring down into a black abyss.

"But after you find her," she asked, "what will you do with her?"

"Do with her? Why, take her home, of course."

"But she'll very probably be broken down, perhaps even on the verge of hysteria. Such an experience would upset any woman, I don't care how robust she may have been. She'll need rest and care. You must bring her to us at Paris, Mr. Lester."

I saw the wisdom of her words, and said so.