Mr. Marx's Secret Part 38

"Look here, Mr. Morton," he said earnestly, "I feel sure from your face that I can trust you, and that what I am going to say you will consider in confidence. I should be the last one to say anything against Eugene de Cartienne, for he received a terrible injury from one of my family, or, rather, my wife's family, and I fear that has exercised an evil influence over his life. But, all the same, I cannot see you, a youngster, perfectly inexperienced, starting out to spend your first night in town with him without feeling it my duty to tell you that I consider him one of the most unfortunate and most dangerous companions whom you could have chosen. There! I hope you're not offended?"

"How could I be?" I answered gratefully. "But I am not going out with him from choice, or for the sake of amus.e.m.e.nt. We are together simply because, as far as I know, he is the only man who can solve a mystery which I have come up to London to try to clear up."

Lord Langerdale started, and his manner became almost agitated.

"This is most extraordinary!" he declared. "Mr. Morton, you must--ah, here comes de Cartienne!" he broke off in a tone of deep annoyance.

"Breakfast with me to-morrow morning at ten--no, nine o'clock!" he added, in a lower key. "I have something most important to say to you."

I nodded a.s.sent and the Count joined us.

There was a faint flush on his pale cheeks and his eyes were flas.h.i.+ng brightly, as he looked at us standing close together. It might have been the result of his recent conversation, of course; but, coupled with his frowning brow and quick, suspicious glance, it looked a great deal more like a sudden fit of anger at seeing us engaged in what appeared like a confidential talk. But there was no trace of it in his tone when he addressed us.

"Really, you two might be conspirators," he said lightly. "Well, Mr.

Morton, have you changed your mind, or am I to have the honour of your company this evening?"

"I am ready to start when you are," I answered. "Good-night once more, Lord Langerdale."

He shook my hand warmly, nodded to the Count, who returned the salute with a stiff bow, and left us. We descended into the street, and a very small, neat brougham, drawn by a pair of dark, handsome bays, drew up at the entrance. The coachman's livery was perfectly plain, save that he wore a c.o.c.kade in his hat, and there was neither coat-of-arms nor crest upon the panel of the door. We stepped inside, and the Count held a speaking-tube for a moment to his mouth while he consulted his watch.

There was no footman.

"Frivolity Theatre," he directed. And we drove off at a smart pace into the Strand.

We reached our destination in a few moments and had no difficulty in obtaining seats. It was all new to me, and I felt a little bewildered as I endeavoured to follow the performance. I soon had enough of that. The piece was a screaming farce, vulgar and stupid.

"I don't think Mr. Marx is here," I whispered to de Cartienne.

"I don't think he is," was the rejoinder. "I had a good look round for him when we came in. Have you had enough of this performance? If so, we'll go. I think I know where we shall find Marx."

"Then let us go at once," I urged.

We pa.s.sed out of the theatre into the street, The brougham was there waiting for us.

"Jump in!" said the Count, opening the door. "I'm going to tell the fellow where to drive to."

I obeyed him, and waited for nearly a minute before he had given his directions and joined me. Then he took his seat by my side and we drove quickly off.

"Why did you not use the speaking-tube?" I asked idly.

He answered without looking at me.

"It is rather an out-of-the-way place," he said slowly, "and I did not wish the man to make a mistake."

CHAPTER XLIV.

A MIDNIGHT EXCURSION TO THE SUBURBS.

During the earlier part of the evening, since we had left the hotel, my companion had shown no disposition to talk. On the contrary, his silence amounted almost to moroseness, and he had not always answered my questions. But immediately we had started on this new expedition his manner underwent a complete change. He seemed to lay himself out with feverish eagerness to entertain me and to absorb my attention.

"I hope you're not tired," he said suddenly, at the end of one of his anecdotes. "We have rather a long drive before us."

"Not in the least," I a.s.sured him. "What is the place we are going to?"

"A sort of private club. In confidence, I'll tell you why it is so far out of the way. Some of the members are fond of playing a little high, and have started a roulette board. That sort of thing is best kept quiet, you know."

"The place is a gambling-club, then?"

"Something of that sort," he acknowledged. "I shouldn't dream of taking you there if it wasn't for the sake of meeting Marx. You understand?"

"Perfectly, thanks. Save for that reason I shouldn't think of going."

"What an infernal night!" he exclaimed, looking out of the carriage for a moment; "almost enough to give one the miserables. Come, we'll shut it out." He struck a match and, turning round, lit a lamp which was fixed at the back of the carriage. Then he quietly pulled down the blinds and began to tell me a story, of which I heard not a word. My thoughts were engrossed by another matter. M. de Cartienne's action, coupled with the strangeness of his manner, could bear but one interpretation.

He had some reason for keeping me as much as possible in the dark as to the route we were taking.

For a few moments I felt, to put it mildly, uneasy. Then several possible explanations of such conduct occurred to me, and my apprehensions grew weaker. What more natural, after all, than that M. de Cartienne should desire to keep secret from me the exact whereabouts of an establishment which, by his own admission, was maintained contrary to the law? The more I considered it, the more reasonable such an explanation appeared to me.

I began to wonder, even, that he had not asked me for some pledge of secrecy. But there was time enough for that.

By degrees the rattling of vehicles around us grew less and less, until at last all traffic seemed to have died away. Once, during a pause in the conversation, I raised the blind a little way and looked out. We had left even the region of suburban semi-detached villas; and, blurred though the prospect was by the mud which the fast-rolling wheels drew incessantly into the air and on to the window-panes, I could just distinguish the dim outline of hedges and fields beyond.

I looked at the carriage-clock and found that we had been already an hour and a quarter on our journey. From the furious pace at which we were travelling we must have come nearly fifteen miles.

"This place is a long way out," I remarked.

The Count laughed and lit a cigarette. "Oh, there's a good reason for that. But the men don't drive here from town--at least, not in the winter. There's a railway-station only a mile away."

"We're almost there now, then, I suppose?"

He let the blind up with a spring and looked out.

"Nearer than I imagined," he remarked. "We shall be there in three minutes."

He was just drawing in his head when he gave a visible start and leaned right out of the window, with his face upturned to the beating rain, listening intently.

Suddenly he withdrew it, and, s.n.a.t.c.hing at the check-string, pulled it violently. I looked at him in amazement. His face was ghastly pale, but his thin lips were set firmly together and his features rigid with determination. It was the face of a brave, desperate man preparing to meet some terrible danger.

The carriage pulled up with a jerk and he leaped down into the road. He did not speak to me, so, after a second's hesitation, I followed him and stood by his side. There was no mistaking the sound which had alarmed him. Behind, at no very great distance, was the sound of galloping horses and the rumble of smoothly-turning wheels.

Round the corner it came, a small brougham drawn by a pair of great thoroughbred horses, whose heavy gallop, even at fifty yards' distance, seemed to shake the ground beneath us. M. de Cartienne s.n.a.t.c.hed one of the carriage-lamps from the bracket and, stepping into the middle of the road, waved it backwards and forwards over his head. His action had the desired effect.

Quivering and plunging with fear, the horses, bathed in foam and mud, came to a standstill before us, and a tall, fair man, with a long fur coat thrown hurriedly over his evening-clothes, leaped out into the road.

The Count was by his side in a moment.

I remained a little apart, of course, out of earshot, but with my eyes fixed upon the two men.

They could scarcely have spoken a hundred words before their colloquy was at an end. The new-comer returned to his carriage and M. de Cartienne followed his example. I looked at him as he stepped in, anxious to see what effect the other's news had had upon him. Apparently it was not so bad as he had feared, for, although he still looked anxious and pale, his face had lost its ghastly hue.