Part 22 (1/2)
As Forsyth approached he hoped every moment to hear those parrot-like tones order the light to be cut off, but this time no such welcome sound fell upon his ears. He had to advance quite close with the full radiance of the lamp s.h.i.+ning on him. The light, he soon perceived, had been retained for the purpose of examining the packet, which Ziegler s.n.a.t.c.hed from him with impatient vehemence; and suddenly Forsyth was confronted with a situation not wholly unforeseen, but which he had hoped to avoid in the haste of the gang to make off with their plunder. Not content with a scrutiny of the carefully taped and sealed dummy package, Ziegler was about to undo the fastenings and look at the contents, which consisted of nothing more valuable than tissue paper.
It seemed an age while the lithe white fingers broke the seals and disarranged the tape, and Forsyth steadied himself for the inevitable discovery. He was not prepared to lose his life at the hands of this murderous crew without a fight for it, five to one though they were; and it occurred to him that at the first sign of violence his best plan would be to smash the electric lamp with a well-directed kick, and then try and elude them in the dark. Ziegler's face was in shadow, the miscreant holding the lamp being behind him; but Forsyth saw at last, by the swift upward jerk of the arch-robber's head, that the worthlessness of the bundle was known to him. It was probable, too, from the prolonged silent stare with which he gazed and gazed at the Duke's counterfeit, that the latter's ident.i.ty was no longer a secret.
With quite a natural movement Forsyth edged a little nearer to the man with the lamp, and the movement seemed to break the spell which held Ziegler speechless. The chief turned abruptly to his followers.
”I must have a word with this gentleman-with the Duke-alone,” he squeaked. ”Go out into the garden and await close outside-within call.
Here, I will keep the lamp.” Forsyth noticed that the well-shaped hand with which he grasped the contrivance was shaking violently-so violently, that the ray with which he guided his four subordinates through the groined arches to the door wavered like a will-o'-the-wisp.
He waited till the last one had filed out before he turned again to the man who had baffled him.
”Well, Mr. Forsyth?” he piped, and the high-pitched note quivered and trembled as the lamp-ray had done.
”Well, sir?” Forsyth repeated, in blank amazement at the sparing of his life, for unless some hidden treachery beyond his fathoming was afoot, he could not doubt that it was spared. He was more than a physical match for the aged evil-doer in front of him, and before the others could be recalled he could make good his retreat into the house by the way he had come. The quiet acceptance of defeat by the bloodthirsty old schemer was a puzzle beyond solution, if it was not a veil for some further villainy.
”You have beaten me, Mr. Forsyth-you and General Sadgrove,” Ziegler went on. ”I don't suppose it's of any use my offering you a bribe to bring me back the package you have obtained so smartly? I would make it a very large one.”
”Not the slightest use,” Forsyth answered, almost laughing, yet more than ever puzzled by the _navete_ of the question. ”I have been at considerable pains to deprive you of your bogus bonds, and it is hardly likely, Mr. Ziegler, that I am going to restore your power over the Duke of Beaumanoir. He is a brave man, and doesn't fear death. You can't hurt him that way; but with these forgeries in your possession you might make some sort of a story good against him. Without them, anything you could say would be an idle tale.”
”That is not the point, believe me, Mr. Forsyth,” the shrill voice quavered almost pleadingly. ”The contents of that package took three of my most skilled colleagues months to prepare. They are proud of their work-love those forged bonds as if they were their children. To their pride in their work I should owe my life, if you would give them back to me.”
Forsyth could hardly believe his ears. Could this tremulous dotard be the redoubtable master of crime whom he and his uncle had been fighting throughout the last crowded week? ”I really don't see how your not particularly valuable life can depend on your possession of a lot of bogus bonds,” he said, with genuine curiosity. The appeal to his pity filled him with vague uneasiness, the alleged reason for it being so utterly absurd. Yet Ziegler was ready with an explanation, more or less plausible.
”My a.s.sociates will kill me for being duped out of their handiwork,” he answered, glancing fearfully to the garden entrance. ”They would perhaps pardon the miscarriage of the main scheme, but to have parted with material which might yet have been turned to account will seal my doom-that, and having allowed you to survive your triumph over us.”
Forsyth saw now-or thought he saw-why the murderous crew had been ordered off in ignorance of the miscarriage. It was to enable Ziegler to make this desperate appeal for the rest.i.tution of the bogus bonds, so that he might ”save his face” with his comrades. It would be ample excuse in their eyes-flatter their vanity, as their tottering chief had hinted-if he had himself been deceived by the fabricated securities. But they had seen him examine the parcel; they would know that he had made the discovery on the spot, and yet had not decreed instant death to their successful opponent. One flaw in this chain of reasoning Forsyth, himself no casuist, overlooked. It did not occur to him that the old pract.i.tioner with the white beard and the squeaky voice could have put himself right with his companions if he had hounded them on to him the moment he knew he was fingering tissue-paper and not United States Treasury bonds, good, bad, or indifferent.
”Well, Mr. Clinton Ziegler,” said Forsyth, eager now to have done with the matter in the only possible way, ”your appeal is dismissed with costs-on the higher scale. What does it matter to me what happens to you? If you had had your way you would have earned a legal hanging four times in the last week. If your friends save the common hangman the trouble, so much the better for all concerned, especially as they would thereby get themselves hanged also.”
”Nothing will move you?”
”Absolutely nothing; and now I'll trouble you to clear off the premises if you and your gentlemen outside don't want to be treated as ordinary burglars.”
”What if I call them back and have you strangled?”
With the way of escape open behind him Forsyth laughed at the futile threat, and to the group outside in the Dutch garden it must have sounded like a friendly laugh of mutual satisfaction and farewell, for he gently pushed the old man before him to the garden door and shut it on him. Then, having carefully shot the heavy bolts, he groped his way back to the stone steps leading up into the house, triumphant, yet not wholly convinced. The ignominious collapse of Mr. Clinton Ziegler was almost too good to be true, and he was painfully conscious that such an astute antagonist was not likely to have thrown all his cards on to the table.
The fact, however, remained that the schemers had been deprived of their spurious bonds, without which their carefully planned design to obtain possession of the genuine ones fell to the ground.
”And their blood-feud against the poor chap will surely cease, now that there is no crime, past or contemplated, for which he can denounce them,” Forsyth comforted himself as he stepped from the door at the head of the stone stairs and hastened along the dimly lit corridor, limping no longer. His destination was the smoking-room, where he guessed that the General would be eagerly awaiting news.
CHAPTER XX-_In the Muniment Room_
While Alec Forsyth was engaged in showing Ziegler out of the crypt, the Duke of Beaumanoir, in happy ignorance of the perilous effort his friend was making for him, sat in the dark muniment room, still as a cat, with his eyes on the door. He had drawn one of the oak chairs close to the safe in which Senator Sherman's genuine bonds reposed. He had established himself on guard, in case, trickery having failed, violent methods should be adopted at the last moment to obtain the huge plunder.
He thought it improbable that, with General Sadgrove in the house and Azimoolah somewhere loose around it, any of the gang would break in unseen, still less that they would reach the muniment room. He sincerely hoped that the vigilance of those trained watch-dogs would prevail, for, though he was prepared to atone for his folly by defending the safe at the cost of his life, if need be, he did not see how that could be done without opening up the scandal he had gone through so much to avoid. He had bought the safe, had met the Senator at Liverpool, and now, unknown to anyone, was keeping his lonely vigil in the firm determination that, at all hazards, the bonds should reach the Bank of England in safety; but there was a dread in his heart lest the tell-tale emergency he was providing against should arise.
For here it becomes necessary to say that the letter sent to Ziegler in London five days before, and purporting to convey the Duke's submission and request for instructions, which were called for by Alec Forsyth, was not written by the Duke at all, or even with his cognizance. It had been the joint production of General Sadgrove and Forsyth, with an eye to immediate immunity for the Duke from further murderous attacks, and to the enactment of some such dangerous comedy as had just been played in the crypt. Though when that deceptive missive was penned, its authors expected, in varying degrees, as will presently be seen, tragedy rather than comedy. And he who by right of youth and friends.h.i.+p necessarily took the greater risk was the one who, not being fully informed by his uncle, had most cause for apprehension from the masquerade.
But Beaumanoir, sitting in the dark with his Smith and Wesson at full c.o.c.k amid the archives of the house he was concerned to preserve stainless, was aware of none of these tortuous dealings. Had his zeal allowed him to indulge in the luxury of a light, he might have whiled away the time by perusing some of the musty chronicles around him, and have so drawn comfort from the knowledge that if his misdeed was published with the usual tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs in every paper in the kingdom, he would still compare favorably with some of his race who had gone before.
So far he had never stolen poor men's land under the protection of the Commons Enclosure Act, or appropriated tenants' improvements to his own enrichment.