The Stowmarket Mystery Part 40

"Tell me about them."

"What can I tell you? They were bright, lively little men. They amused my friends by their quaint ideas, and interested us at times by recounting incidents of life in the East."

"Were they all 'little'? Was one of them a man of unusual stature?"

"No," said Margaret

The barrister knew that she was profoundly distressed.

"If she would be candid with me," he mused, "I would tear the heart from this mystery to-night."

One other among those present caught the hidden drift of this small colloquy. Robert Frazer looked sadly at his cousin. Natures that are closely allied have an electric sympathy. He could not even darkly discern the truth, but he connected Brett's words in some remote way with Capella.

How he loathed the despicable Italian who left his wife to bear alone the trouble that oppressed her--who only went away in order to concoct some villainy against her.

Margaret could not face the barrister's thoughtful, searching gaze. She stood up--like the others of her race when danger threatened. She even laughed harshly.

"I have decided," she said, "to leave here to-morrow morning. Helen says she does not object Our united wardrobes will serve all needs of the seaside. Robert's tailor visited him to-day, and a.s.sured him that the result would be satisfactory without any preliminary 'trying on.' Do you approve, Mr. Brett?"

"Most heartily. I can hardly believe that our hidden foe will make a further attack until he learns that he has been foiled again. Yet you will all be happier, and unquestionably safer, away from London. Does anyone here know where you are going?"

"No one. I have not told my maid or footman. It was not necessary, as we intended to remain here a week."

"Admirable! When you leave the hotel in the morning give Yarmouth as your destination. Not until you reach King's Cross need you inform your servants that you are really going to Whitby. Would you object to--ah, well that is perhaps, difficult. I was about to suggest an a.s.sumed name, but Miss Layton's father would object, no doubt."

"If he did not, I would," said Robert impetuously. "Who has Margaret to fear, and what do David and I care for all the anonymous scoundrels in creation?"

"Is there really so much danger that such a proceeding is advisable?"

inquired the trembling Nellie.

"To-day's circ.u.mstances speak for themselves, Miss Layton," replied Brett.

"Neither you nor Mrs. Capella run the least risk. I will not be answerable for the others. Grave difficulties must be surmounted before the power for further injury is taken from the man we seek. In my professional capacity, I say act openly, advertise your destination, make it known that Mr. Hume escaped from the wreck of the hansom unhurt. Should the would-be murderer follow you to Whitby he cannot escape me. Here in London he is one among five millions. But speaking as a friend, I advise the utmost vigilance unless another Hume-Frazer is to die in his boots."

It was not Helen but Margaret who wailed in agony:

"Do you really mean what you say? Have matters reached that stage?"

"Yes, they have."

His voice was cold, almost stern.

"Kindly telegraph your Whitby address to me," he said to Hume. Then he walked to the door, leaving them brusquely.

For once in his career he was deeply annoyed.

"Confound all women!" he muttered in anger. "They nurse some petty little secret, some childish love affair, and deem its preservation more important than their own happiness, or the lives of their best friends.

They are all alike--d.u.c.h.ess or scullery-maid. Their fluttering hearts are all the world to them, and everything else chaos. If that woman only chose--"

"Mr. Brett!" came a clear voice along the corridor.

It was Margaret. She came to him hastily

"Why do you suspect me?" she exclaimed brokenly. "I am the most miserable woman on earth. Suffering and death environ me, and overwhelm those nearest and dearest. Yet what have I done that you should think me capable of concealing from you material facts which would be of use to you?"

The barrister was tempted to retort that what she believed to be "material" might indeed be of very slight service to him, but the contrary proposition held good, too.

Then he saw the anguish in her face, and it moved him to say gently:

"Go back to your friends, Mrs. Capella. I am not the keeper of your conscience. I am almost sure you are worrying yourself about trifles.

Whatever they may be, you are not responsible. Rest a.s.sured of this, in a few days much that is now dim and troublous will be cleared up. I ask you nothing further. I would prefer not to hear anything you wish to say to me. It might fetter my hands Good-bye!"

CHAPTER XXIV

THE MEETING

"There!" he said to himself, as he pa.s.sed downstairs, "I am just as big a fool as she is. She followed me to make a clean breast of everything, and I send her back with a request to keep her lips sealed. Yet I am angry with her for the risk she is taking!"

He reached the hall and was about to cross the foyer when he caught the words, "Gentleman thrown out of a cab," uttered by a handsome girl, cheaply but gaudily attired, who was making some inquiry at the bureau.

He stopped and searched for a match. Then he became interested in the latest news, pinned in strips on the baize-covered board of a "ticker."

The girl explained to an official that she had witnessed an accident that evening. She was told that a gentleman who lived in the hotel was hurt.

Was he seriously injured?

The hotel man, from long practice, was enabled to sum up such inquirers rapidly.

"Do you know the gentleman?" he inquired.

"No--that is, slightly."

"Well, madam, if you give me your card I will send it to his friends. They will give you all necessary information."

She became confused. She was not accustomed to the quiet elegance of a great hotel. The men in evening dress, the gorgeously attired ladies pa.s.sing to elevator or drawing-room, seemed to be listening to her. Why did the bureau keeper speak so loudly? Then the a.s.surance of the c.o.c.kney came to her aid.

"I don't see why there should be such a fuss about nothing," she said. "I don't know his people. I saw the gentleman pitched out of a cab and was sorry for him, so I just called to ask how he was."

She angrily tossed her head, and stared insolently at an old lady who came to inquire if there were any letters for the Countess of Skerry and Ness.

"No letters, your ladys.h.i.+p," said the man. "And you, miss, must either send a personal message or see the manager."

The young woman bounced out in a fury, and Brett followed her, silently thanking the favouring planets which had sent him down the stairs at the very moment when the girl was proffering her request to the clerk.

Fortunately, the weather was better now. There was a clear sky overhead, and the streets looked quite cheerful after the steady downpour, London's myriad lamps being reflected in glistening zigzags across the wet pavement.

The girl did not head towards the busy Strand, but walked direct to Charing Cross station on the District Railway.