Mr. Marx's Secret Part 39

We drove on in the same direction as before. When we had started he turned to me.

"Do you know what a police raid is?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Well, I can't stop to explain," he went on rapidly. "Sir Fred--my friend there, has just brought down word of some strange rumours about the clubs to-night. It seems the police have got to hear of this place and are going to pay it an uninvited visit. They won't be here for an hour, though, so if you like just to come inside and see whether Marx is there or not, you will have time."

We had turned off the road into a bare, gra.s.s-grown avenue, leading up to a red-brick house, unilluminated by a single light.

We were barely a minute driving up this uninviting approach and pulling up at the grim, closed door. The carriage had scarcely come to a standstill before the Count was on the doorstep, fitting a curiously-shaped key into the lock. It yielded at once and we both stepped inside, followed by the man in the fur overcoat, whose carriage had pulled up close behind ours.

We were in perfect darkness and no one seemed to be stirring in the house, although the mat under our feet, in some way connected with an electric alarm bell, was giving shrill notice of our arrival. Then we heard swift feet approaching and a tall, hard-featured woman in a plain black gown, and holding a lamp high over her head, appeared before us.

M. de Cartienne took her by the arm and led her on one side. The other man, who was making vain attempts to appear at his ease and composed, sank into a chair, palpably trembling. Of the real nature of the danger which was imminent I could form only the slightest idea; but that it was something very much to be feared I could easily gather from his agitation and de Cartienne's manner.

Suddenly the latter turned round.

"Ackland," he said quickly to the man in the chair, eyeing him keenly and with a shade of contempt in his tone, "you are not fit for any of the serious work, I can see. Listen! Light up the club-room and the smoke-room, stir up the fires, bring out the cards and wine-gla.s.ses, empty some tobacco-ash about, make the place look habitable for us when we come. Ferdinand is on the watch outside and will give you notice of our visitors. Ring all three alarm-bells at once if he gives the signal.

Morton, I want you to wait for me. I'll send you away all right before anything happens; but don't go unless you see me again--unless you're frightened."

He turned on his heel and, without waiting for any answer from either of us, hurried away down the pa.s.sage. The man whom he had called Ackland rose from his seat and, striking a match, lighted the gas-brackets all around the hall and the burners of a candelabra which hung from the roof.

My companion then threw open a door and I followed him into a luxuriously-appointed room, furnished with a suite of lounges and easy-chairs corresponding with those in the hall.

Whilst I was looking round, he hastily began moving the chairs about, as though they had been recently used, poking the fire and generally making the place look inhabited. Having done this, he crossed the hall and entered the opposite room. It was a little smaller, but similarly appointed and decorated, save that a long table, covered with a white cloth and laid for dinner, stood in the centre, and a smaller one, with a green baize covering at the further end. My companion threw a pack of cards and some counters upon the latter and drew it closer up to the fire. Then, having placed some chairs around it, he went back into the hall again and I followed.

All the while we had been moving about, strange noises had been going on under our feet. Now and then the sound of hurrying footsteps and of hoa.r.s.e voices reached us, and, more often still, the steady rumbling of heavy articles being moved about. I looked at my companion for an explanation, but he did not seem inclined to offer one.

"What's going on underneath?" I asked at last.

"Bowls!" he answered curtly, "Don't talk, please, I want to listen!"

CHAPTER XLV.

A MYSTERIOUS COMMISSION.

The underground noises continued for about a quarter of an hour, during which time my companion busied himself by removing from the club-room various articles--the false top of a table marked out in a curious fas.h.i.+on, several mahogany boxes, and other contrivances strange to me, but presumably gambling appliances, with all of which he disappeared through the door by which de Cartienne had made his exit, returning again directly.

At last everything was quiet, ominously quiet; then the door from the hall was thrown suddenly open, and the Count entered, followed by four or five other men. They were all apparently gentlemen, and in evening clothes, but terribly soiled and disordered. Some were splashed with mud from head to foot, some had their s.h.i.+rt-fronts blackened and crumpled, and the hands of all of them were black with grease and dirt. All looked more or less pale and nervous--in fact, M. de Cartienne was the only one who thoroughly retained his composure.

There was a lavatory on the other side of the staircase, towards which the whole of the little party trooped, M. de Cartienne being the last. As he disappeared he looked round and beckoned me to follow him. I did so and stood by his side, while he plunged his head into some cold water, and then began to wash his hands.

"I'm sorry this should have happened to-night, Morton," he said. "Marx was here, but has bolted in a fright."

"Couldn't I catch him up?" I asked.

De Cartienne shook his head.

"No; he's in the train by this time. He comes here every night, though.

I'll bring you down to-morrow, perhaps."

"Are you coming back now?" I asked.

"No; I must see this thing through. You can go and at once, though. My carriage will take you back. I shall return by train. By the by, there's a small favour I want to ask you."

"Certainly."

"I have kept a few private papers here, which I should not care to have examined should the search really take place. I want you to take them back to the hotel for me. The box is a little too heavy for me to carry, so I have told them to put it in the carriage as a footstool for you. You won't mind that?"

"Not in the least," I replied. "When shall I see you again?"

"At the hotel some time to-morrow. Come along now," he added, putting on his coat.

He strolled with me to the front door and, throwing it open, listened intently.

There was no sound save the moaning of the wind in the bare trees which stood by the side of the house and the patter of the fast-falling rain. I stepped into the carriage and the Count came to the window to me.

"Don't forget," he said, pointing to a long, oblong box secured by a strong lock. "Draw the rug a little more over your knees--so."

I obeyed him and let it hang down to hide the box, which I began to see was his object.

"And if you should meet anyone and they should be impertinent enough to ask you where you are going, don't tell them. Give them your card and tell them to go to the devil. If they are very pressing indeed, you must tell a lie. Say that you've been to dine with Sir Sedgwick Bromley at Hatherly Hall. Don't forget the name."

"Very well. Are you coming back to the Metropole to-night?" I asked.

"I think so. But if you don't mind I should be glad if you would have the box taken up into your room and keep it for me. I shouldn't like anything to happen to it."

I promised, but without much alacrity. We shook hands and the carriage drove off.

CHAPTER XLVI.

A BRUSH WITH THE POLICE.

We could scarcely have accomplished more than a mile of our homeward journey when, with a sudden jerk which almost threw me forward, the carriage was brought to a standstill.

On the opposite side of the road were two carriages, or, rather, flys, from one of which a tall, slim man was in the act of descending. Several other men on horseback were just riding up from behind. They were all in plain clothes, but something about their _physique_ and general appearance had an unmistakable suggestion of police.

The man who had been descending from the nearer of the two carriages crossed the road and approached me.

"Sorry to detain you, sir," he said, saluting in military fas.h.i.+on, "but I must ask you your name and address and where you have been this evening."

"I don't know whether it has occurred to you that your behaviour is rather strange," I remarked, looking at him steadily, "not to say impertinent! What the mischief do you mean by stopping my carriage in this way on the high road and asking me questions like that? Who are you?"