Mr. Marx's Secret Part 47

"Yes."

"Well, he is not here."

I checked the rejoinder which, had I spoken it, would probably have cost me my life.

"Where is he, then?" I asked.

"I will tell you when you have written for that box," he said, opening a drawer and placing pen and paper upon the table.

I shook my head. "There is no need for me to write. It is of no use my remaining if Mr. Marx is not here. Send your servant back with me and I will give it him."

"No, I shall hold you as a hostage for the box. Besides, I have a few words to say to you, boy," he added grimly. "Write."

I hesitated, but only for a moment.

"Do I understand that you detain me here against my will?" I said, slowly.

"Understand anything you please, but write."

I took up the pen without another word. When I had finished the note he took it from me and read it through. Then he glanced at the address and started.

"Mr. Ravenor! Oh, Mr. Ravenor is in London, is he?" he remarked slowly.

"Yes."

He looked away with the ghost of an evil smile upon his lips.

"Ravenor in London! How strange. He and I are old acquaintances. I must call on him," he added mockingly.

He stood still for a moment and then left the room abruptly with the note in his hand. I tried to follow him, but the door closed too quickly. If I could have seen any means of escape I should have made use of them, for I had gained the knowledge which I had come to seek, and I knew that I was in danger. There was only that solitary window looking out upon the river and the closed door. If this man meant mischief, I was securely in his power.

CHAPTER LIV.

A RAID.

In a few minutes Count de Cartienne returned:

He flashed a sudden keen glance at me.

"I wonder if you have any idea as to the contents of that box," he said, keeping his eyes fixed curiously upon me.

Looking back now, I see clearly that I was guilty of the grossest folly in answering as I did. But I was young, impetuous, conscious of great physical strength, and with all that contempt of danger which such consciousness brings. So, without hesitation, I drew from my pocket the evening paper which I had bought in Northumberland Avenue, and laid my finger upon the column which I had shown my father.

"This may have something to do with it," I remarked.

His face grew a shade paler as he glanced it through. Then he folded it up and handed it back to me with a polite gesture.

"So that is your idea, is it?" he remarked. "Why didn't you go to Scotland Yard and tell them of your suspicions?"

I felt that he was watching me keenly and made a great effort to remain composed, although my pulses were beating fast and I felt my colour rising.

"It was no business of mine," I answered. "Besides, if I had done so I should have lost my chance of finding out anything about Mr. Marx from you."

"Your reasoning does you infinite credit," he answered, with a slight sneer. "You are quite a Machiavelli. Come; I want to show you over my--warehouse."

I followed him reluctantly, for I liked his manner less and less; but I had scarcely an alternative.

We pa.s.sed along a narrow pa.s.sage and through several rooms piled up to the ceiling with huge bales; then we descended a winding flight of iron steps, and as we reached the bottom I began to hear a faint hum of voices and strange, m.u.f.fled sounds.

He unlocked a small, hidden door before us, and we stood on the threshold of a large, dimly-lit cellar.

One swift glance around showed me the truth of my vague suspicions, and warned me, too, of my peril. It was a weird sight. At the far end of the place a small furnace was burning, casting a vivid glow upon the white, startled faces of the men who were grouped around it. One held in his hand a great ladlefull of hissing liquid, and another on his knees was holding steady the mould which was to receive it. But though they kept their positions unchanged, they thought no more of their tasks. The attention of one and all was bent upon me in horror-struck amazement.

The man who first recovered himself sufficiently to be able to frame an articulate sentence was the man holding the ladle.

"Are you mad, de Cartienne?" he hissed out. "What have you brought that young cub down here for?"

"I have brought him here," he answered, with a shade of contempt in his tone at the alarm which they were all showing, "because he is safer here than anywhere else--for the present.

"Somehow or other--probably by looking inside that unfortunate box--this young cub, as you call him, knows our secret. To let him go would, of course, be absurd, so I've brought him here to be tried for his unpardonable curiosity. What shall we do with him? I propose that we throw him into the river."

I moved a little farther back towards the door, listening with strained ears and bated breath, for I fancied that I heard a faint sound of voices and footsteps above. Apparently the others had heard it, too, for there was a death-like silence for a few moments. Then spoke the Count.

"That must be Drummond with the box. Will you go and see, Ferrier?"

There was the trampling of many feet outside, and then a sudden swift torrent of blows upon the closed door.

In an instant all was wild confusion. Count de Cartienne was the only one who was not panic-stricken.

"The game is up," he cried fiercely, "and here is the traitor."

Like lightning he stooped down and I saw something in his hand flash before my eyes. There was a strange burning pain and then everything faded away before my sight. I heard the door beaten down and the sound of my rescuers streaming in. Then all sound became concentrated in a confused roar, which throbbed for a moment in my ears and then died away.

Unconsciousness crept in upon me.

When I opened my eyes again I found myself lying upon a bed in a strange room. By my side was my father, leaning back in a low, easy chair.

"Where am I?" I asked. "How long have I been here! Tell me all about it."

My father stood up with a little exclamation of relief.

"Better, Philip? That is well. You are at the nearest decent hotel we could find last night, or rather this morning."

"Tell me all about it," I cried.

"Everyone was taken except de Cartienne. He fought like a tiger and got off. But it is only for a while. He will be caught. His description----"