The House of Whispers Part 18

"Ah, no!" she cried, unable longer to restrain her tears, and burying her pale, beautiful face upon his arm. "I--I was foolish to have spoken of it," she sobbed brokenly: "I ought to have kept it to myself. It is--it's the one thing that I can never reveal to you--to you of all men!"

CHAPTER XVII

DESCRIBES A FRENCHMAN'S VISIT

"Monsieur Goslin, Sir Henry," Hill announced, entering his master's room one morning a fortnight later, just as the blind man was about to descend to breakfast. "He's in the library, sir."

"Goslin!" exclaimed the Baronet, in great surprise. "I'll go to him at once; and Hill, serve breakfast for two in the library, and tell Miss Gabrielle that I do not wish to be disturbed this morning."

"Very well, Sir Henry;" and the man bowed and went down the broad oak staircase.

"Goslin here, without any announcement!" exclaimed the Baronet, speaking to himself. "Something must have happened. I wonder what it can be." He tugged at his collar to render it more comfortable; and then, with a groping hand on the broad bal.u.s.trade, he felt his way down the stairs and along the corridor to the big library, where a stout, grey-haired Frenchman came forward to greet him warmly, after carefully closing the door.

"Ah, _mon cher ami_!" he began; and, speaking in French, he inquired eagerly after the Baronet's health. He was rather long-faced, with beard worn short and pointed, and his dark, deep-set eyes and his countenance showed a fund of good humour. "This visit is quite unexpected,"

exclaimed Sir Henry. "You were not due till the 20th."

"No; but circ.u.mstances have arisen which made my journey imperative, so I left the Gare du Nord at four yesterday afternoon, was at Charing Cross at eleven, had half-an-hour to catch the Scotch express at King's Cross, and here I am."

"Oh, my dear Goslin, you always move so quickly! You're simply a marvel of alertness."

The other smiled, and, with a shrug of the shoulders, said, "I really don't know why I should have earned a reputation as a rapid traveller, except, perhaps, by that trip I made last year, from Paris to Constantinople, when I remained exactly thirty-eight minutes in the Sultan's capital. But I did my business there, nevertheless, even though I got through quicker than _messieurs les touristes_ of the most estimable Agence Cook."

"You want a wash, eh?"

"Ah, no, my friend. I washed at the hotel in Perth, where I took my morning coffee. When I come to Scotland I carry no baggage save my tooth-brush in my pocket, and a clean collar across my chest, its ends held by my braces."

The Baronet laughed heartily. His friend was always most resourceful and ingenious. He was a mystery to all at Glencardine, and to Lady Heyburn most of all. His visits were always unexpected, while as to who he really was, or whence he came, n.o.body--not even Gabrielle herself--knew.

At times the Frenchman would take his meals alone with Sir Henry in the library, while at others he would lunch with her ladys.h.i.+p and her guests. On these latter occasions he proved himself a most amusing cosmopolitan, and at the same time exhibited an extreme courtliness towards every one. His manner was quite charming, yet his presence there was always puzzling, and had given rise to considerable speculation.

Hill came in, and after helping the Frenchman to take off his heavy leather-lined travelling-coat, laid a small table for two and prepared breakfast.

Then, when he had served it and left, Goslin rose, and, crossing to the door, pushed the little bra.s.s bolt into its socket. Returning to his chair opposite the blind man (whose food Hill had already cut up for him), he exclaimed in a very calm, serious voice, speaking in French, "I want you to hear what I have to say, Sir Henry, without exciting yourself unduly. Something has occurred--something very strange and remarkable."

The other dropped his knife, and sat statuesque and expressionless. "Go on," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "Tell me the worst at once."

"The worst has not yet happened. It is that which I'm dreading."

"Well, what has happened? Is--is the secret out?"

"The secret is safe--for the present."

The blind man drew a long breath. "Well, that's one thing to be thankful for," he gasped. "I was afraid you were going to tell me that the facts were exposed."

"They may yet be exposed," the mysterious visitor exclaimed. "That's where lies the danger."

"We have been betrayed, eh? You may as well admit the ugly truth at once, Goslin!"

"I do not conceal it, Sir Henry. We have."

"By whom?"

"By somebody here--in this house."

"Here! What do you mean? Somebody in my own house?"

"Yes. The Greek affair is known. They have been put upon their guard in Athens."

"By whom?" cried the Baronet, starting from his chair.

"By somebody whom we cannot trace--somebody who must have had access to your papers."

"No one has had access to my papers. I always take good care of that, Goslin--very good care of that. The affair has leaked out at your end, not at mine."

"At our end we are always circ.u.mspect," the Frenchman said calmly. "Rest a.s.sured that n.o.body but we ourselves are aware of our operations or intentions. We know only too well that any revelation would a.s.suredly bring upon us--disaster."

"But a revelation has actually been made!" exclaimed Sir Henry, bending forward. "Therefore the worst is to be feared."

"Exactly. That is what I am endeavouring to convey."

"The betrayal must have come from your end, I expect; not from here."

"I regret to a.s.sert that it came from here--from this very room."

"How do you know that?"

"Because in Athens they have a complete copy of one of the doc.u.ments which you showed me on the last occasion I was here, and which we have never had in our possession."

The blind man was silent. The allegation admitted of no argument.

"My daughter Gabrielle is the only person who has seen it, and she understands nothing of our affairs, as you know quite well."

"She may have copied it."

"My daughter would never betray me, Goslin," said Sir Henry in a hard, distinct voice, rising from the table and slowly walking down the long, book-lined room.

"Has no one else been able to open your safe and examine its contents?"

asked the Frenchman, glancing over to the small steel door let into the wall close to where he was sitting.

"No one. Though I'm blind, do you consider me a fool? Surely I recognise only too well how essential is secrecy. Have I not always taken the most extraordinary precautions?"

"You have, Sir Henry. I quite admit that. Indeed, the precautions you've taken would, if known to the world, be regarded--well, as simply amazing."

"I hope the world will never know the truth."

"It will know the truth. They have the copies in Athens. If there is a traitor--as we have now proved the existence of one--then we can never in future rest secure. At any moment another exposure may result, with its attendant disaster."

The Baronet halted before one of the long windows, the morning suns.h.i.+ne falling full upon his sad, grey face. He drew a long sigh and said, "Goslin, do not let us discuss the future. Tell me exactly what is the present situation."