Mr. Marx's Secret Part 37
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"You know a Mr. Marx, I believe? I was inquiring for him at the hotel office this afternoon, and they told me that you were forwarding his letters. Could you give me his address?"
M. de Cartienne removed his cigarette from his teeth, and looked dubious.
"Yes, I know Marx; know him well," he admitted; "but your request puts me in rather an awkward position. You see, this is how the matter lies," he added, leaning forward confidentially. "Marx and I are old friends, and he's been of great service to me more than once, and never asked for any return. Well, I met him--I won't say when, but it wasn't long ago--in Pall Mall, and he hailed me as the very man he was most anxious to meet.
We lunched together, and then he told me what he wanted. He was in London for a short while, he said, and wished to remain perfectly incognito.
There would be letters for him, he said, at the Metropole. Would I fetch them, and forward them to him at an address which he would give me, on condition that I gave him my word of honour to keep it secret? I asked, naturally, what reason he had for going into hiding; for virtually that is what it seemed to me to be; but he would give me no definite answer.
Would I do him this favour or not? he asked. And, remembering the many services which he had rendered me, I found it quite impossible to refuse.
That is my position. I'm really extremely sorry not to be able to help you, but you see for yourself that I cannot."
His tone was perfectly serious and his manner earnest. I had not the faintest shadow of doubt as to his sincerity.
"You can't help me at all then?" I said, no doubt with some of the disappointment which I felt in my tone.
He looked doubtful.
"Well, I don't quite know about that," he said slowly, as though weighing something over in his mind. "Look here, Mr. Morton," he added, frankly enough, "what do you want with the man? Is it anything unpleasant?"
"Not at all," I answered. "I do not wish any harm to Mr. Marx unless he deserves it. I want to ask him a few questions, that's all. Unless the man's a perfect scoundrel he will be able to answer them satisfactorily, and my having discovered his whereabouts will not harm him. If, on the other hand, he cannot answer those questions, why, then, you may take my word for it, M. de Cartienne, that he's an unmitigated blackguard, perfectly unworthy of your friends.h.i.+p, and undeserving of the slightest consideration from you."
M. de Cartienne nodded and leaned forward, with his arm across the divan.
"You put the matter very plainly," he said, "and what you say is fair enough. I'll tell you how far I am prepared to help you. I won't tell you Mr. Marx's address, because I have pledged my word not to divulge it; but, if you like, I'll take you where there will be a very fair chance of your seeing him."
"He is in London, then?"
The Count shrugged his shoulders and smiled slightly.
"Permit me to keep my word in the letter, if not in the spirit," he answered. "I am going to spend my evening in this way; I am going, first of all, to a theatre for an hour or so; then I am going to call at a couple of clubs, and afterwards I am going to a club of a somewhat different sort. If you like to be my companion for the evening I shall be charmed; and if it should happen that we run up against any friend of yours--well, the world is not so very large, after all."
"Thanks. I'll come with you with pleasure!" I answered without hesitation.
He stood up underneath the soft glare of the electric light, and as I turned towards him something in his face puzzled me. It was gone directly my eyes met his--gone, but not before it had left a curious impression.
It seemed almost as though a triumphant light had flashed for an instant in his bright, steel-coloured eyes.
CHAPTER XLIII.
ABOUT TOWN.
We pa.s.sed up the heavily-carpeted steps into the central hall of the hotel. The Count stopped for a moment to inquire for letters at the chief porter's bureau, and as we turned away we came face to face with Lord Langerdale.
He hesitated when he saw us together, but only for a moment. Then he advanced with a genial smile upon his well-cut, handsome face.
"You're the very man I wanted to see, de Cartienne," he said. "I suppose you know your young friend's name by this time? Will you introduce us?"
The Count looked distinctly annoyed, but he complied at once.
"Lord Langerdale," he said coldly, "this is Mr. Morton. Mr. Morton--Lord Langerdale."
Lord Langerdale held out his hand frankly and drew me a little on one side, although not out of the Count's hearing.
"Mr. Morton," he said pleasantly, "I am going to make a somewhat extraordinary request. My only excuse for it is a lady's will, and when you reach my age you will know that it is a thing by no means to be lightly regarded. My wife has been very much impressed by what she terms a marvellous likeness between you and--and a very near relative of hers whom she had lost sight of for a long while. She is most anxious to make your acquaintance. May I have the honour of presenting you to her?"
For a moment my head swam. The likeness of Lady Langerdale to my mother, and then this strange fancy on her part! What if they should be something more than coincidences? The very thought was bewildering. But how could it be? No; the thing was impossible. Still, the request was couched in such terms that there could be but one answer.
"I shall be extremely pleased!" I declared readily.
"Then come into the drawing-room for a few minutes, will you?" Lord Langerdale said. "Good-night, Eugene! No use asking you to join us, I know."
Count de Cartienne turned on his heel with brow as black as thunder.
"Good-night, Lord Langerdale!" he said stiffly; "Good-night, Mr. Morton!"
"But I am coming with you, you know!" I exclaimed, surprised at his manner. "Couldn't you wait for me five minutes?"
"It is impossible!" he answered shortly; "we are late already! My carriage must have been waiting half an hour. I had no idea of the time."
It was rather an embarra.s.sing moment for me. The Count evidently expected me to keep my engagement with him, and would be offended if I did not do so. On the other hand, Lord Langerdale was waiting to take me to his wife, and, from the slight frown with which he was regarding de Cartienne, I judged that he did not approve of his interference.
Inclination prompted me strongly to throw my engagement with the Count to the winds and to place myself under Lord Langerdale's guidance. But, after all, the sole purpose of my journey to London was to discover Mr.
Marx, and if I neglected this opportunity I might lose sight of the only man who could help me in my search. Clearly, therefore, my duty was to fulfil my prior engagement.
"If M. de Cartienne cannot wait," I said regretfully, "I am afraid, Lord Langerdale, that the pleasure you offer me must be deferred. Would Lady Langerdale allow me to call at your rooms to-morrow?"
Evidently he was displeased, for his manner changed at once.
"I will leave a note for you with the hall porter," he said.
"Good-night."
I turned away with the Count, who preserved a perfectly unmoved countenance. Before we had taken half a dozen steps, however, he was accosted by a gentleman entering the hotel, and, turning round, he begged me to excuse him for a moment.
I strolled away by myself, waiting. Suddenly, I felt a light touch on my arm, and, looking round, I found Lord Langerdale by my side.
"I just want to ask you a question, Mr. Morton, if you'll allow me," he said kindly. "Remember that I'm an old man--old enough to be your father--and a man of the world, and you are a very young one. You won't mind a word of advice?"
"Most certainly not!" I a.s.sured him heartily.
"Well, then, Count de Cartienne is quite a new acquaintance of yours, is he not?"
"I never saw him before this evening," I admitted.
"And you--pardon me, but you look very young, and a great deal too fresh and healthy for a town man--you don't know much of London life, do you?"
"Nothing at all," I answered. "This is my first visit to London, and I only arrived this afternoon."
Lord Langerdale looked very serious.
Mr. Marx's Secret Part 37
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Mr. Marx's Secret Part 37 summary
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