THE PLOT THAT FAILED
Settling on the Hotel Victoria as our headquarters, we prepared to make
the two days before our sailing as amusing as possible, but I always
had before me the nightmare of the little carved casket which I was to
carry with me.
I decided I would take no risks with it. I would go and fetch it from
my solicitors on the afternoon of our departure, on the way to the
station. It was very evident to me that this casket contained
something of the greatest possible interest to several people,
including in particular His Serene Highness, the Duke of Rittersheim.
When, then, Ethel, St. Nivel and I had crowded all the visits to
theatres and matinees we could into the intervening two days, we sat
taking our last luncheon in England, probably, for some time to come.
"I am so glad we are going by this boat instead of the next," remarked
St. Nivel, taking a glass of Chartreuse from the attentive waiter who
was on the look out for a parting tip; "a fortnight makes all the
difference in that part of the world; we shall just get there for the
tail end of the summer, which they say is glorious. A bit of a change,
I am thinking," he added, with a glance out of the window, "to this
kind of diluted pea-soup weather we get here in November."
"Let us see," said Ethel, with a calculating air, "this is the last
week in November. We arrive there the second week in December, and the
rainy season does not begin until the middle of January. We shall have
a clear month to enjoy ourselves in!"
"Very delightful," I replied; "a delightful voyage under delightful
circumstances."
I bowed to my cousin Ethel as I raised my liqueur glass to my lips.
She blew away the smoke of the cigarette she took from hers--we were in
a private room--and smiled at me.
"You flattering old courtier!" she answered; "you get those airs
through writing romances. What is more to the purpose, have you
secured those three state cabins on the C deck of the _Oceana_?"
"Well," I answered laconically, "I've paid the money for them at any
rate. Sixty-six pounds the three, over and above first-class fare!"
"And very cheap, too," replied Ethel; "the comfort of sleeping in a
real brass bedstead instead of those intolerable bunks is worth three
times as much!"
I looked at my cigar and said nothing; but for the generosity of the
old lady of Monmouth Street, Bath, a bunk would have been my lot,
without doubt, in the ordinary way. Though she had laid a heavy burden
upon me, she certainly had a kind consideration for my comfort.
Further conversation was put an end to by the entry of my new man,
Brooks, with my travelling coat.
"The motor's at the door, sir," he announced.
I had engaged a special motor-brougham to take me from the hotel to my
lawyers in Lincoln's Inn, and from there to the station with the
precious casket in my possession; I had already banked the notes. I
wished to make the journey as rapidly as possible, and Brooks was to
accompany me, my luggage going on under the care of St. Nivel's man.
"Then _au revoir_ until we meet at Euston," I said to my cousins; "mind
you are in good time for the train."
"We shall be all right," answered Ethel. "I wish we were coming with
you. I feel rather anxious about you."
"Don't you worry, Ethel," St. Nivel replied, "he'll be all right. He's
not a child."
I went off and got into the motor, Brooks taking his seat on the box.
We rattled away through the crowded streets in the dim half-fog that
was enveloping the town, and duly arrived at the dreary-looking offices
of the lawyers.
There I did not lose a minute; they had been duly apprised of my coming
and I found Watson the managing clerk already waiting for me.
"Here are the two packets, Mr. Anstruther," he said, handing them to
me; "they are just as you left them, you see, and the seals are intact."
I examined them and found them quite correct.
"What a fortunate thing," added Watson, as I buttoned my overcoat over
the pocket in which I had stowed the little parcels, "that I saw you
push those two packets into the pigeon-holes, and stopped that
scoundrel from laying his hands on them!"
"Yes, it was a very lucky thing," I replied, "and I am very much
obliged to you for your promptness in gathering my meaning."
"Yes, it was a fortunate escape for you, sir," he added; "when I saw
you go away with those two men, I never felt more miserable in my life.
But, of course, we read all about the truth of it next afternoon in the
evening paper. One can hardly believe such things possible in these
times with our efficient police."
"Ye-es,"--I hesitated, with my mind on the thick necks and
whisky-drinking proclivities of some of the "'tecs" I had known,--"I
suppose we can never rely upon _absolute_ safety in this world."
Then as I spoke a thought struck me; I noticed that the packets were
rather bulging out in the pocket in which I had placed them. I had an
idea I would change their position. I quickly took them out and placed
one in each of my trousers pockets; there was then nothing in my
appearance to denote where they were. In the result, it was a very
lucky thing I had taken this precaution.
To preserve the secret of their whereabouts, I kept my hand in the
breast of my travelling coat as if I were guarding the precious parcels
there, and in this way I left the lawyers' office and made for the
motor-brougham, the door of which was being held open by my man Brooks.
Just as I was half-way across the pavement, a man selling evening
papers came rushing by and shouting--
"'Orrible murder! Suicide of the assassin! 'Orrible murder!"
He was running very fast and apparently not looking where he was going,
for he knocked roughly against me as he passed, dislodging my hand from
my breast; but Brooks he ran right into, full tilt, with the result
that my man lost his balance and sprawled on the pavement.
It was then that a very fussy little over-dressed man came bustling up
out of the fog, accompanied by a very attractive lady.
"A more disgraceful thing, sir," he said, addressing me, "I have never
seen before. I trust you are not hurt, sir?"
"No, thank you, I'm all right," I answered, half inclined to laugh at
Brooks scrambling up from the pavement and brushing himself, for it was
a wet, slimy day and the pavements muddy. The newspaper man had
disappeared.
"Why, I declare," exclaimed the little man, "the scamp has covered you
with mud!"
I looked down; there certainly was a splash of mud on the front of my
coat. I wondered how it had got there. Despite my assertions, the
two--both the lady and the gentleman--insisted on brushing me, until in
very desperation I had to get into the brougham out of their way. Then
they suddenly made me very polite bows and disappeared.
Brooks mounted the box, and we rattled away to Euston. There was one
thing which attracted my attention, however, on that short journey.
Brooks' ungloved hand was hanging down as he sat on the box, and I
noticed that he kept snapping his fingers as he sat.
"That's a very highly nervous man," I said to myself, "and even that
little incident has upset him."
Brooks' nervousness passed out of my mind altogether when we reached
Euston, and I sought in the bustle for my two cousins. I found them at
last standing in front of the reserved coupé which I had taken care to
have secured for us by my man.
When they saw me, a look of surprise and amusement came over their
faces, and they both laughed heartily.
"What on earth have you been doing, Will?" Ethel cried. "Have you been
to a suffragists' meeting on the way?"
Ethel affected to laugh at the suffragists, but in her heart I believe
she would have liked to join them, and perhaps would have done so but
for her brother.
"No," I answered; "what's the matter with me?"
"Look at your coat," replied St. Nivel, pointing to the breast of that
garment.
I did look, and found that both my travelling coat and the coat
underneath it had been cut completely through the left breast, where my
pocket was, with a knife whose edge must have been as keen as that of a
razor.
At the first shock I cried, half aloud--
"Good God! The packets have been stolen."
Then I recollected my forethought in placing them in my trousers
pockets, and I dived my hands into them instinctively. Yes, thank God,
they were all right; my two hands closed on their crisp sealed surfaces.
But how had it occurred?
I thought of the man tearing along with the evening papers, the
upsetting of Brooks, and the fussy lady and gentleman who had insisted
on brushing me down. I saw it all now--a carefully prepared plan!
Then I roared with laughter, much to the astonishment of Ethel and St.
Nivel.
"They've had all their trouble for nothing," I gasped, simply stamping
with delight; "the silly fools have got nothing!" But I was wrong;
they had got my brand new cigar case given me by Ethel with my initials
on it and full of St. Nivel's best Havannahs, placed there by her own
fair hands for the railway journey.