In White Raiment Part 10

"And when you received this letter, what did you do?"

"Well, I put him in the second mate's cabin, and left him alone till two days later, when he came to. Then I just carried out my orders."

"Where are you bound for?"

"The round trip--Stockholm, Riga, St Petersburg, Drammen, Christiansund, and home."

"That means a month."

"More--six weeks."

"Your owners, therefore, were anxious that the doctor should be absent from England during that time. There is some mystery here, on the face of it. Doctor Colkirk has related to me a very remarkable story, and the most searching inquiry should be inst.i.tuted."

"Well, sir," Banfield said apologetically, "I hope you don't consider my conduct bad. I've only carried out my orders to the letter. You see I didn't know that the gentleman was on board until we'd actually left the quay; and the letter says, quite distinctly, that he's subject to fits, therefore I let him remain quiet until he regained consciousness."

Then, turning to me, he added, "I trust, sir, that you'll accept my apology."

"That's all very well," interposed the Consul; "but you know that you did entirely wrong in sailing with an unconscious stranger on board."

"I admit that. But you see I had my orders, sir."

"Who delivered them to you?" I inquired.

"The two gentlemen who brought you on board," he responded.

"Have any of your men described them to you?"

"They only said that they were both well dressed, and about middle age."

They were, without doubt, the Tempter and his accomplice. The conspiracy had been conceived and carried out with amazing ingenuity.

"And they brought the doctor on board and delivered this letter?"

"Yes, sir. They afterwards re-entered the carriage and drove away."

"Well," said the Consul, "the only course I see is for the doctor to take this letter, return to London, and seek an explanation of your owners."

"No, sir, I shan't give up the letter. It's written to me," demurred the captain.

"But it is in my hands," responded the Consul. "I am making inquiries into this affair, and I shall act as I think best in the interest of all parties concerned. The letter is your property, certainly; but recollect that this affair may prove very awkward for your owners.

Therefore, take my advice, Captain, and a.s.sist this gentleman in his inquiries."

"I protest against you keeping the letter."

"Very well, I will see that your protest is forwarded to your owners,"

replied the Consul; and he handed me the letter, saying--

"Your best course. Doctor, is to return by the Wilson boat to Hull.

She sails this afternoon at four. Then go down to Leadenhall Street and, make inquiries--it seems a strange affair, to say the least."

"It is entirely unaccountable," I said. "There seems to have been a widespread plot against me, with a single motive--the concealment of the murder of Beryl Wynd."

"But in that case why not let me telegraph to Scotland Yard?" suggested the Consul, as the sudden idea occurred to him. "They would watch the house until your return. To-day is Tuesday. You'll be in London on Thursday night, or early on Friday morning."

The proposal was an excellent one, and I gladly acceded. Next instant, however, the bewildering truth flashed across my mind. I had not hitherto realised my position. My heart sank within me.

"Would that your suggestion could be carried out," I replied. "But, truth to tell, I don't know the house, for I took no notice of its situation, and am unable to tell the name of the road."

"Ah! how extremely unfortunate. London is a big place, and there are thousands of houses that are outwardly the same. Didn't the servant who called at your surgery give you the address?"

"No; she gave it to the cabman, but I did not catch it. Men of my profession take little heed of the exterior of houses. We make a note of the number in our visiting-books--that's all."

"Then you really haven't any idea of the situation of the house in which the tragedy occurred?"

"None whatever," I replied. A moment later a further thought occurred to me, and I added, "But would not the registry of marriages give the address of my bride?"

"Why, of course it would!" cried the Consul excitedly. "An excellent idea. Return to London as quickly as you can, and search the marriage register. From that I'm certain you'll obtain a clue."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

MY NEW PATIENT.

On Friday morning I entered the office of Messrs. Hanway Brothers in Leadenhall Street, and after a short wait was accorded an interview with the manager.

I demanded, of course, an explanation why I had been s.h.i.+pped away from London in such a summary manner, whereupon he apparently regarded me as a lunatic.

"I really had no knowledge of the affair," he replied, smiling incredulously. "Do you actually allege you were taken on board the _Petrel_ and kept imprisoned in a cabin by Captain Banfield? A most extraordinary story, to say the least."

I told him of the inquiries made by the British Consul in Christiania, and added--

"I have here the captain's written orders from your firm, signed by yourself." And I produced the letter.

He glanced it through eagerly, and then carefully scrutinised the signature.

"This renders the affair far more mysterious," he exclaimed with increased interest. "The letter-paper is certainly ours, but the whole thing is a forgery."

"It is not your signature?"

"No, certainly not--only a clumsy imitation;" and taking up a pen, he wrote his signature and handed them both to me for comparison. At once I saw that several of the peculiarities of his handwriting were absent from Banfield's orders.

"The type-writing is done by a different machine to ours. We use Bar-Locks, while this has probably been written by a Remington," he went on. "Besides, look at the edge of the paper, and you'll see that it is badly cut. It is, without doubt, a sheet out of several reams, that were delivered by the stationers some months ago, and were rejected by me because of the careless manner in which the edges had been cut."

Then he touched his bell and the chief clerk appeared. To him he showed the letter, and without a moment's hesitation he declared it to be a forgery.

Without going into details of the events of that memorable night, I described how I had recovered consciousness to find myself at sea, and the strict obedience, of the captain to the orders he had received.

"Well, all I can conjecture is," declared the manager, much puzzled, "that you have fallen the victim of some clever conspiracy. The details show that there was some strong motive for your abduction, and that the conspirators well knew that Banfield remained at home until almost the last moment before sailing. They were, therefore, enabled to put you on board during his absence. The forged orders, too, were brief and well to the point--in fact, worded just as they might be if sent from this house. No; depend upon it there has been some very ingenious plotting somewhere."

I remained with him a short time longer, then, realising the uselessness of occupying his time, I withdrew, and in further prosecution of my inquiries drove to Doctors' Commons.