The Lighted Way Part 11

"What of Rosario?" he demanded.

Arnold hesitated, but only for a moment. The truth, perhaps, was best.

"Rosario is dead," he replied gravely. "He was stabbed to the heart and died within a few seconds."

There was a queer silence. Arnold felt inclined to rub his eyes.

Gone was at least part of the horror from their white faces. Fenella sank back in her chair with a little sob which might almost have been of relief. Starling, as though suddenly mindful of the conventions, a.s.sumed a grimly dolorous aspect.

"Poor fellow!" he muttered. "And the murderer?"

"He's gotten clean off, for the present at any rate," Arnold told them. "They seem to think that he reached the Strand and had a motor car waiting."

Again there was silence. Then Mrs. Weatherley rose to her feet, glanced for a moment in the looking-gla.s.s, and turning round held out both her hands to Arnold.

"You have been so kind to me," she said softly. "I shall not forget it--indeed I shall not. Mr. Starling is going to take me home in his car. Good-bye!"

Arnold held her hands steadfastly and looked into her eyes. They were more beautiful than ever now with their mist of risen tears.

But there were other things in her face, things less easy to understand. He turned away regretfully.

"I am sorry that you should have had such a shock," he said. "Is there any message for Mr. Weatherley?"

She exchanged a quick glance with her companion. Then for the first time Arnold realized the significance of the errand on which he had come.

"Some one must have warned Mr. Weatherley of what was likely to happen!" he exclaimed. "It was for that reason I was sent here!"

Again no one spoke for several seconds.

"It was not your fault," she said gently. "You were told to wait inside the restaurant. You could not have done more."

Arnold turned away with a little s.h.i.+ver. His mission had been to save a man's life, and he had failed!

CHAPTER VIII

THE DUTIES OF A SECRETARY

It was twenty minutes to four before Arnold reached the office. Mr.

Jarvis looked at him curiously as he took off his hat and hung it up.

"I don't know what you've been up to, young man," he remarked, "but you'll find the governor in a queer state of mind. For the last hour he's been ringing his bell every five minutes, asking for you."

"I was detained," Arnold answered shortly. "Is he alone now?"

Mr. Jarvis nodded.

"I think that you had better go in at once," he advised. "There he is stamping about inside. I hope you've got some good excuse or there'll be the d.i.c.kens to pay."

The door of the inner office was suddenly opened. Mr. Weatherley appeared upon the threshold. He recognized Arnold with an expression partly of anger, partly of relief.

"So here you are at last, young man!" he exclaimed. "Where the d.i.c.kens have you been to all this while? Come in--come in at once!

Do you see the time?"

"I am very sorry indeed, sir," Arnold replied. "I can a.s.sure you that I have not wasted a moment that I know of."

"Then what in the name of goodness did you find to keep you occupied all this time?" Mr. Weatherley demanded, pus.h.i.+ng him through into the office and closing the door behind them. "Did you see Mr.

Rosario? Did you give him the message?"

"I had no opportunity, sir," Arnold answered gravely.

"No opportunity? What do you mean? Didn't he come to the Milan?

Didn't you see him at all?"

"He came, sir," Arnold admitted, "but I was not able to see him in time. I thought, perhaps," he added, "that you might have heard what happened."

Mr. Weatherley had reached the limits of his patience. He struck the table with his clenched fist. For a moment anger triumphed over his state of nervous excitability.

"Heard?" he cried. "Heard what? What the devil should I hear down here? If you've anything to tell, why don't you tell it me? Why do you stand there looking like a--"

Mr. Weatherley was suddenly frightened. He understood from Arnold's expression that something serious had happened.

"My G.o.d!" he exclaimed. "Mrs. Weatherley--my wife--"

"Mrs. Weatherley is quite well," Arnold a.s.sured him quickly. "It is Mr. Rosario."

"What of him? What about Rosario?"

"He is dead," Arnold announced. "You will read all about it in the evening papers. He was murdered--just as he was on the point of entering the Milan Grill Room."

Mr. Weatherley began to shake. He looked like a man on the verge of a collapse. He was still, however, able to ask a question.

"By whom?"

"The murderer was not caught," Arnold told him. "No one seems to have seen him clearly, it all took place so quickly. He stole out of some corner where he must have been hiding, and he was gone before anyone had time to realize what was happening."

Mr. Weatherley had been standing up all this time, clutching nervously at his desk. He suddenly collapsed into his easy-chair.

His face was gray, his mouth twitched as though he were about to have a stroke.

"My G.o.d!" he murmured. "Rosario dead! They had him, after all!

They--killed him!"

"It was a great shock to every one," Arnold went on. "Mrs.

Weatherley arrived about a quarter of an hour before it occurred. I understood that she was expecting to lunch with him, but when I told her why I was there she came and sat at my table. She was sitting there when it happened. She was very much upset indeed. I was detained looking after her."

Mr. Weatherley looked at him narrowly.

"I am sorry that she was there," he said. "She is not strong. She ought not to be subjected to such shocks."