TO MRS. MALPLAQUET’S
Clasping Barbara’s wrist in a bony grip, Mrs. Malplaquet sat at the
girl’s side in the back seat of the limousine whilst Bellward placed
himself on the seat opposite. The car was powerfully engined; and, once
the cart track up to the inn was passed and the main road reached,
Strangwise opened her out.
By the track leading to the inn the high road made a right angle turn
to the right. This turn they took, leaving the Mill House away in the
distance to the left of them, and, after skirting the fen for some way
and threading a maze of side roads, presently debouched on a straight,
broad road.
Dazed and shaken by her experiences, Barbara lost all count of time,
but after running for some time through the open country in the gray
light of dawn, they reached the edge of those long tentacles of bricks
and mortar which London thrusts out from her on every side. The outer
fringes of the metropolis were still sleeping as the great car roared
by. The snug “High Streets,” the red brick “Parades” and “Broadways,”
with their lines of houses with blinds drawn, seemed to have their eyes
shut, so blank, so somnolent was their aspect.
With their lamps alight, the first trams were gliding out to begin the
new day, as the big car swiftly traversed the eastern suburbs of
London. To Barbara, who had had her home at Seven Kings, there was
something familiar about the streets as they flickered by; but her
powers of observation were dulled, so great was the sense of
helplessness that weighed her down.
High-booted scavengers with curious snake-like lengths of hose on
little trolleys were sluicing the asphalt as the limousine snorted past
the Mansion House into Poultney and Cheapside. The light was growing
clearer now; the tube stations were open and from time to time a
motor-bus whizzed by.
Barbara stirred restlessly and Mrs. Malplaquet’s grip on her wrist
tightened.
“Where are you taking me?” the girl said.
Mrs. Malplaquet spoke a single word.
“Bellward!” she said in a gentle voice; but it was a voice of command.
Bellward leaned forward.
“Look at me, Miss Mackwayte!” he said.
There was a curious insistence in his voice that made Barbara obey. She
struggled for a moment against the impulse to do his bidding; for some
agency within her told her to resist the summons. But an irresistible
force seemed to draw her eyes to his. Bellward did not move. He simply
leaned forward a little, his hands on his knees, and looked at her.
Barbara could not see his eyes, for the light in the car was still dim,
but inch by inch they captured hers.
She looked at the black outline of his head and instantly was conscious
of a wave of magnetic power that transmitted itself from his will to
hers. She would have cried out, have struggled, have sought to break
away; but that invisible dance held her as in a vice. A little gasp
broke from her lips; but that was all.
“So!” said Bellward with the little sigh of a man who has just
accomplished some bodily effort, “so! you will keep quiet now and do as
I tell you. You understand?”
No reply came from the girl. She had thrust her head forward and was
gazing fixedly at the man. Bellward leaned towards the girl until his
stubbly hair actually touched her soft brown curls. He was gazing
intently at her eyes.
He was apparently well satisfied with his inspection, for he gave a
sigh of satisfaction and turned to Mrs. Malplaquet.
“She’ll give no more trouble now!” he remarked airily.
“Ah! Bellward,” sighed Mrs. Malplaquet, “you’re incomparable! What an
undefeatable combination you and I would have made if we’d met twenty
years sooner!”
And she threw him a coquettish glance.
“Ah, indeed!” returned Bellward pensively. “But a night like this makes
me feel twenty years older, Minna. He’s a daredevil, this Strangwise.
Imagine going back to that infernal inn when the police might have
broken in on us any minute. But he is a determined chap. He doesn’t
seem to know what it is to be beaten. He wanted to make sure that
Nur-el-Din had not recovered the jewel from him, though he declares
that it has never left him day or night since he got possession of it.
He fairly made hay of her room back at the inn there.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Malplaquet rather spitefully, “he seems to be beaten
this time. He hasn’t found his precious Star of Poland.”
“No,” answered the man reflectively, “but I think he will!”
Mrs. Malplaquet laughed shrilly.
“And how, may I ask? From what Strangwise told me himself, the thing
has utterly vanished. And he doesn’t seem to have any clue as to who
has taken it!”
“Perhaps not,” replied Bellward, who appeared to have a high opinion of
Strangwise, “but, like all Germans, our friend is thorough. If he does
not see the direct road, he proceeds by a process of elimination until
he hits upon it. He did not expect to find the jewel in Nur-el-Din’s
room; he told me as much himself, but he searched because he is
thorough in everything. Do you know why he really went back to the Dyke
Inn?”
“Why?” asked Mrs. Malplaquet.
“To secure our young friend here,” answered Bellward with a glance at
Barbara.
Mrs. Malplaquet made a little grimace to bid him to be prudent in what
he said before the girl.
“Bah!” the man laughed, “you understand nothing of what we are saying,
do you?” he said, addressing Barbara.
The girl moved uneasily.
“I understand nothing of what you are saying,” she replied in a
strained voice.
“This girl was the last person to have the jewel before Strangwise,”
Bellward said, continuing his conversation with Mrs. Malplaquet, “and
she is employed at the Headquarters of the Secret Service. Strangwise
was satisfied that nobody connected him with the theft of the silver
box which Nur-el-Din gave to this girl until our young lady here
appeared at the Dyke Inn yesterday afternoon. Nur-el-Din played his
game for him by detaining the girl. Strangwise believes—and I must say
I agree with him—that probably two persons know where the Star of
Poland is. One is this girl...”
“The other being the late Mr. Bellward?” queried Mrs. Malplaquet.
“Precisely. The late Mr. Bellward or Major Desmond Okewood!” said
Bellward. “Between him and this girl here I think we ought to be able
to recover Strangwise’s lost property for him!”
“But you haven’t got Okewood yet!” observed the lady in a mocking
voice.
The man looked evilly at her, his heavy, fat chin set square.
“But we shall get him, never fear. With a little bird-lime as
attractive as this—”
He broke off and jerked his head in the direction of Barbara.
“... I shall do the rest!” he added.
“Ah!”
Mrs. Malplaquet drew a deep sigh of admiration.
“That’s a clever idea. He is so _rusé_, this Strangwise. You are quite
right, Bellward, he never admits himself beaten. And he never is! But
tell me,” she added, “what about Nur-el-Din? They’ll nab her, eh?”
“Unless our British friends are even more inefficient than I believe
them to be, they most certainly will,” he replied.
“And then?”
Bellward shrugged his shoulders and spread wide his hands.
“A little morning ceremony at the Tower,” he answered, “unless these
idiotic English are too sentimental to execute a woman...”
The car was running down the long slope to Paddington Station. It drew
up at the entrance to the booking office, and Strangwise, springing
from the driver’s seat, flung open the door.
“Come on!” he cried, “we must look sharp or we’ll miss our train!”
He dragged a couple of bags off the roof and led the way into the
station. In the booking-hall he inquired of a porter what time the
express left for Bath, then went to the ticket office and took four
first-class tickets to that place. Meanwhile, the car remained standing
empty in the carriageway.
Strangwise led his little party up some stairs and across a long
bridge, down some stairs and up some stairs again, emerging, finally,
at the Bakerloo Tube Station. There he despatched Bellward to fetch a
taxi.
Taxis are rare in the early hours of the morning in war-time and
Bellward was gone fully twenty minutes. Strangwise fidgeted
continually, drawing out his watch repeatedly and casting many anxious
glances this way and that.
His nervous demeanor began to affect Mrs. Malplaquet, who had linked
her arm affectionately in Barbara’s. The girl remained absolutely
apathetic. Indeed, she seemed almost as one in a trance.
“Aren’t we going to Bath?” at length demanded Mrs. Malplaquet of
Strangwise.
“Don’t ask questions!” snapped the latter.
“But the car?” asked the lady.
“Hold your tongue!” commanded the officer; and Mrs. Malplaquet obeyed.
Then Mr. Bellward returned with the news that he had at last got a
taxi. Strangwise turned to Bellward.
“Can Minna and the girl go to Campden Hill alone?” he asked. “Or will
the girl try and break away, do you think?”
Bellward held up his hand to enjoin silence.
“You will go along with Mrs. Malplaquet,” he said to Barbara in his low
purring voice, “you will stay with her until I come. You understand?”
“I will go with Mrs. Malplaquet!” the girl replied in the same dull
tone as before.
“Upon my word,” exclaimed Mrs. Malplaquet, “you might have told me that
we were going to my own place...”
But Strangwise shut her up.
“Bellward and I will come on by tube... it is safer,” he said, “hurry,
hurry! We must all be under cover by eight o’clock... we have no time
to lose!”