Part 6 (1/2)
”A lame gardener was set upon at Prior's Tarrant, and released on his a.s.sailants finding that they had mistaken him for me. And at night they got on the roof and tried to suffocate me by letting a brazier of charcoal down into the grate and plugging the chimney. Luckily I awoke, and managed to crawl out of the room in time.”
”But surely you raised an alarm and caught the fellows? They couldn't get off the roof and escape so quickly as that,” exclaimed Alec, half incredulous.
Again the Duke shook his head.
”I raised no alarm, and they did get away, after pulling up the brazier and leaving no trace,” he replied. ”There are reasons, Alec, why I could not have appeared against them had they been caught-the same reasons why I can't confide more fully in you.”
”You must have done something very bad-murder at least,” said Forsyth, gravely.
”On the contrary, I have done nothing at all,” Beaumanoir retorted. ”It is for not doing something that I am being persecuted.”
”Well, what about the third attempt?”
”It happened this afternoon, as I was on my way to your uncle's. A carriage knocked me down and very nearly crumpled me. But that may have been an accident.”
”Did you take stock of the driver and the people in the carriage?”
Beaumanoir was obliged to admit that he had not. In his disheveled state he had been only anxious to be cleaned down and have his wrist attended to, and it was not till after the carriage had driven rapidly away that he had connected the incident with the other attempts.
Forsyth said nothing for the moment, but fetched some cigarettes from the mantelpiece; and it was not until they had smoked in silence for awhile that he blurted out suddenly:
”This can't be allowed to go on. It makes everything impossible. Have you any reason to think that the people who are pursuing you will do so indefinitely-until they have settled you?”
Beaumanoir considered before replying, as though the point had not occurred to him before.
”No,” he said, with a nervous laugh. ”Things have crowded so in the last few hours that I haven't thought much about any sort of future. I cannot be sure, but I believe if I could pull through till the end of next week-say, for another fortnight-that the danger would pa.s.s.”
Forsyth sat and ruminated, blowing blue smoke-rings; and then, after two or three minutes of silence, a faint noise sounded in the room. The Duke, whose nerves were tuned to concert pitch, heard it first, and turned a pair of wide-open eyes on the door. Forsyth's gaze followed, and they both saw the handle of the door move. The door itself, being locked and double bolted, of course refused to yield to the gentle pressure from without.
Forsyth laid his finger to his lips for silence, and motioned Beaumanoir to retire into the bedroom, which communicated by means of folding doors with the sitting-room. When the Duke had noiselessly disappeared, Forsyth stole to the outer door, and having first quietly drawn the bolts he quickly unlocked it and flung it open, to be confronted by an under-sized little man, who shrank back from his threatening att.i.tude.
”Who the deuce are you-and what do you want, disturbing me at this time of night?” Forsyth demanded fiercely.
”These are Mr. Crofton's chambers, ain't they, sir?” bleated the intruder.
”No; they are not. There's no one of that name in the house that I know of,” replied Forsyth, partially mollified by his mild manner, and wholly so when the little man proceeded to apologize for his mistake, explaining that he was from a chemist's in the Strand with some medicine for the gentleman, but that he must have come to the wrong house.
Holding up a bottle as evidence of his _bona fides_, he retreated downstairs, excusing himself to the last; but before going he had managed to s.n.a.t.c.h a comprehensive glance round the room. Forsyth waited on the landing until his steps had died away, and then went back into his room, barring the door as before.
”It's all right,” he said, going to the folding doors. ”Only some chap who had mistaken the address.”
”Not much mistake there,” replied the Duke, outwardly calm, but gone very white. ”I caught a peep of him. He's a johnny who shadowed me over from America, and never left me till just before I met you at the Cecil.
He called himself Marker, and-and he's in this business, Alec.”
”He didn't look very formidable. Why, you could lick the thread-paper little skimp with one hand,” said Forsyth, beginning to wonder if his friend's mind were unhinged. It was not like the once gay hussar Charley Hanbury-intrepid horseman, champion boxer, and good all-round athlete-to funk a miserable wisp such as that!
”He is only the spy, I expect-sent to find out if I was here,” replied Beaumanoir, pa.s.sing a weary hand over his eyes.