The Spy in Black Part 6

In the meantime the sociable Mary had been suffering from a sense of disappointment. Surely the beautiful liveried figure in the car would require his tea and eggs like his master? For a little she sat awaiting his arrival in the kitchen, with her cap neatly arranged, and an expectant smile. But gradually disappointment deepened. She considered the matter judicially. Clearly, she decided, Mr Burnett had forgotten the tradition of hospitality a.s.sociated with that and every other manse. And then she decided that her own duty was plain.

She went out of the back door and round the house. There stood the car, with the resplendent figure leaning back in his seat, his cap still over his eyes, and his face now resting on his hand, so that she could barely see more than the tip of his nose. He heard nothing of her approach till she was fairly at his side, and in her high and penetrating voice cried--

"Will ye not be for a cup of tea and an egg to it, eh?"

The chauffeur started, and Mary started too. She had seen his face for an instant, though he covered it quickly, but apparently quite naturally, with his hand.

"No, thanks," he said brusquely, and turned away his eyes.

Mary went back to the kitchen divided between annoyance at the rebuff and wonder. The liveried figure might have been the twin-brother of the minister.

III.

ON THE CLIFF.

Gradually Mr Burnett recovered his composure. His guest was so genial and friendly and appreciative of the scones and the currant cake that he began to upbraid himself for churlishness in allowing anything like a suspicion of this pleasant gentleman to linger in his mind. There remained a persistent little shadow which he could not quite drive away, but he conscientiously tried his best. As for Mr Taylor, there never was a jollier and yet a more thoughtful companion. He seemed to think of every mortal thing that the minister could possibly need for his journey.

"Got your pa.s.sport?" he inquired.

"Yes," said the minister. "I am carrying it in my breast-pocket. It ought to be safe there."

"The safest place possible!" said Mr Taylor cordially. "It's all in order, I presume, eh?"

Mr Burnett took the pa.s.sport out of his pocket and showed it to him.

His guest closely examined the minister's photograph which was attached, went through all the particulars carefully, and p.r.o.nounced everything in order, as far as an ignorant outsider like himself could judge.

"Of course," he said, "I'm a business man, Mr Burnett, and I can tell when a thing looks businesslike, though I know no more about what the authorities require and why they ask for all these particulars than you do. It's all red tape, I suppose."

As a further precaution he recommended his host to slip a few letters and a receipted bill or two into his pocket-book, so that he would have a ready means of establis.h.i.+ng his ident.i.ty if any difficulty arose. Mr Burnett was somewhat surprised, but accepted his guest's word for it, as a shrewd Lancas.h.i.+re lad, that these little tips were well worth taking.

By this time the evening was falling, and at length Mr Taylor declared himself ready for the road. He had drunk four cups of tea, and hurried over none of them. For a moment Mr Burnett half wondered if he had any reason for delaying their start, but immediately reproached himself for harbouring such a thought. Indeed, why should he think so? There seemed nothing whatever to be gained by delay, with the dusk falling so fast and a long road ahead.

The minister's rug and umbrella and two leather bags were put into the car, he and Mr Taylor got aboard, and off they went at last. Mr Burnett had another glance at the chauffeur, and again was haunted by an odd sense of familiarity; but once they had started, the view of his back in the gathering dusk suggested nothing more explicit.

Presently they pa.s.sed a corner, and the minister looked round uneasily.

"What road are you taking?" he asked.

"We're going to join the coast road from Berwick," said Mr Taylor.

"Isn't that rather roundabout?"

Mr Taylor laughed jovially.

"My good James has his own ideas," said he. "As a matter of fact, I fancy he knows the coast road and isn't sure of the other. However, we needn't worry about that. With a car like this the difference in time will be a flea-bite!"

He had provided the minister with another excellent cigar, and smoking in comfort behind a gla.s.s wind-screen, with the dim country slipping by and the first pale star faintly s.h.i.+ning overhead, the pair fell into easy discourse. Mr Taylor was a remarkably sympathetic talker, the minister found. He kept the conversation entirely on his companion's affairs, putting innumerable questions as to his habits and way of life, and indeed his whole history, and exhibiting a flattering interest in his answers. Mr Burnett said to himself at last, with a smile, that this inquiring gentleman would soon know as much about him as he knew himself.

Once or twice the minister wondered how fast they were really going.

They did not seem to him to be achieving any very extraordinary speed, but possibly that was only because the big car ran so easily. In fact, when he once questioned his companion, Mr Taylor a.s.sured him that actually was the explanation. It was thus pretty dark when they struck the coast road, and it grew ever darker as they ran northward through a bare, treeless country, with the cliff edge never far away and the North Sea glimmering beyond.

They had reached an absolutely lonely stretch of road that hugged the sh.o.r.e closely when the car suddenly stopped.

"Hallo!" exclaimed Mr Taylor, "what's up?"

The chauffeur half-turned round and said in a low voice--

"Did you see that light, sir?"

"Which light?"

The chauffeur pointed to the dark stretch of turf between them and the edge of the cliffs.

"Just there, sir. I saw it flash for a second. I got a glimpse of some one moving too, sir."

Mr Taylor became intensely excited.

"A spy signalling!" he exclaimed.

"Looks like it, sir," said the chauffeur.

Mr Taylor turned to the minister with an eager, resolute air.

"Our duty's clear, Mr Burnett," said he. "As loyal subjects of King George--G.o.d bless him!--we've got to have a look into this!"

With that he jumped out and stood by the open door, evidently expecting the minister to follow. For a moment Mr Burnett hesitated. A vague sense that all was not well suddenly affected him. "Do not go!"

something seemed to say to him. And yet as a man and a loyal subject how could he possibly decline to a.s.sist in an effort to foil the King's enemies? Reluctantly he descended from the car, and once he was on the road, Mr Taylor gave him no time for further debate.

"Come on!" he whispered eagerly; and then turning to the chauffeur, "come along too, James!"

Close by there was a gate in the fence, and they all three went through this and quietly crossed the short stretch of gra.s.s between the road and the cliffs, Mr Taylor and the minister walking in front and the chauffeur following close at their heels. Now that the car was silent, they could hear the soft lapping of the water at the cliff foot, but that and the fall of their feet on the short crisp turf were the only sounds.

Mr Burnett peered hard into the darkness, but he could see absolutely nothing. All at once he realised that they were getting very close to the brink, and that if there were any one in front they would certainly be silhouetted against the sky. There could not possibly be any use in going further; why then did they continue to advance? At that a clear and terrifying instinct of danger seized him. He turned round sharply, and uttered one loud ringing cry.

He was looking straight into the chauffeur's face, and it seemed as though he were looking into his own, distorted by murderous intention.

Above it the man's hand was already raised. It descended, and the minister fell on the turf with a gasp. He knew no more of that night's adventure.

IV.

MR DRUMMOND'S VISITOR.

Upon a secluded road in the quiet suburb of Trinity stood the residence of Mr Robert Drummond. It was a neat unpretentious little villa graced by a number of trees and a clinging Virginia creeper, and Mr Drummond was a neat unpretentious little gentleman, graced by a number of virtues, and a devoted Mrs Drummond. From the upper windows of his house you could catch a glimpse of the castled and templed hills of Edinburgh on the one side, and the s.h.i.+ning Forth and green coasts of Fife on the other. The Forth, in fact, was close at hand, and of late Mr Drummond had been greatly entertained by observing many interesting movements upon its waters.