Part 35 (1/2)

Arrangements will then be made with you.

”THE MAN WHO KNOWS.”

”Oh, my G.o.d, I've ruined all!” cried Mr. Wetherell as he put the letter down on the table; ”and--who knows?--I may have killed my poor child!”

Seeing his misery, I did my best to comfort him; but it was no use. He seemed utterly broken down by the failure of our scheme, and, if the truth must be told, my own heart was quite as heavy. One thing was very certain, there was a traitor in our camp. Some one had overheard our plans and carried them elsewhere. Could it be the footman? If so, he should have it made hot for him when I got sufficient proof against him; I could promise him that most certainly. While I was thinking over this, I heard a footstep on the companion stairs, and a moment later the Inspector made his appearance. His astonishment at finding us alone, reading a letter by the light of one solitary candle, was unmistakable, for he said, as he came towards us and sat down, ”Why, how's this? Where are the men?”

”There are none. We've been nicely sold,” I answered, handing him the letter. He perused it without further remark, and when he had done so, sat drumming with his fingers upon the table in thought.

”We shall have to look in your own house for the person who has given us away, Mr. Wetherell!” he said at last. ”The folk who are running this affair are as cute as men are made nowadays; it's a pleasure to measure swords with them.”

”What do you think our next move had better be?”

”Get home as fast as we can. I'll return with you, and we'll talk it over. It's no use our remaining here.”

We accordingly went on deck, and descended to our wherry again. This time the Inspector accompanied us, while the police boat set off down the harbour on other business. When we had seen it pull out into the darkness, we threw the imitation money overboard, pushed off for the sh.o.r.e, landed where we had first embarked, and then walked up to Mr.

Wetherell's house. It was considerably after twelve o'clock by the time we reached it, but the butler was still sitting up for us. His disappointment seemed as keen as ours when he discovered that we had returned without his young mistress. He followed us up to the study with spirits and gla.s.ses, and then at his master's instruction went off to bed.

”Now, gentlemen,” began Mr. Wetherell, when the door had closed upon him, ”let us discuss the matter thoroughly. But, before we begin, may I offer you cigars?”

The Inspector took one, but I declined, stating that I preferred a pipe.

But my pipe was in my bedroom, which was on the other side of the pa.s.sage; so asking them to wait for me, I went to fetch it. I left the room, shutting the door behind me. But it so happened that the pipe-case had been moved, and it was some minutes before I could find it. Having done so, however, I blew out my candle, and was about to leave the room, which was exactly opposite the study, when I heard the green baize door at the end of the pa.s.sage open, and a light footstep come along the corridor. Instantly I stood perfectly still, and waited to see who it might be. Closer and closer the step came, till I saw in the half dark the pretty figure of one of the parlour maids. On tip-toe she crept up to the study door, and then stooping down, listened at the keyhole.

Instantly I was on the alert, every nerve strained to watch her. For nearly five minutes she stood there, and then with a glance round, tiptoed quietly along the pa.s.sage again, closing the baize door after her.

When she was safely out of hearing I crossed to the study. Both the Inspector and Mr. Wetherell saw that something had happened, and were going to question me. But I held up my hand.

”Don't ask any questions, but tell me as quickly, and as nearly as you can, what you have been talking about during the last five minutes,” I said.

”Why?”

”Don't stop to ask questions. Believe in the importance of my haste.

What was it?”

”I have only been giving Mr. Wetherell a notion of the steps I propose to take,” said the Inspector.

”Thank you. Now I'm off. Don't sit up for me, Mr. Wetherell; I'm going to follow up a clue that may put us on the right scent at last. I don't think you had better come, Mr. Inspector, but I'll meet you here again at six o'clock.”

”You can't explain, I suppose?” said the latter, looking a little huffed.

”I'm afraid not,” I answered; ”but I'll tell you this much--I saw one of the female servants listening at this door. She'll be off, if I mistake not, with the news she has picked up, and I want to watch her.

Good-night.”

”Good-night, and good luck to you.”

Without another word I slipped off my boots, and carrying them in my hand, left the room, and went downstairs to the morning-room. This apartment looked out over the garden, and possessed a window shaded by a big tree. Opening it, I jumped out and carefully closed it after me.

Then, pausing for a moment to resume my boots, I crept quietly down the path, jumped a low wall, and so pa.s.sed into the back street. About fifty yards from the tradesmen's entrance, but on the opposite side of the road, there was a big Moreton Bay fig-tree. Under this I took my stand, and turned a watchful eye upon the house. It was a dark night, so that it would have been extremely difficult for any one across the way to have detected my presence.

For some minutes I waited, and was beginning to wonder if I could have been deceived, when I heard the soft click of a latch, and next moment a small dark figure pa.s.sed out into the street, and closed the gate after it. Then, pausing a moment as if to make up her mind, for the mysterious person was a woman, she set off quickly in the direction of the city. I followed about a hundred yards behind her.