THE DISQUIETING END OF PONG
Later on, he and Deppingham visited the underground chamber, accompanied
by Mr. Britt. They found that the door to the passage had been blown
away by the terrific concussion. Otherwise, the room was, to all
appearances, undamaged, except that some of the wine casks were leaking.
The subterranean passage at this place was completely filled with earth
and stone.
Deppingham stared at the closed mouth of the passage. "They've cut off
our exit, but they've also secured us from invasion from this source. I
wonder if the beggars were clever enough to carry the plunder above the
flood line. If not, they've had their work for nothing."
"Selim says there is a cave near the mouth of the passage," said Chase.
"The tunnel comes out half way up the side of the mountain, overlooking
the sea, and the hole is very carefully screened by the thick shrubbery.
Trust Von Blitz to do the safe thing."
"I don't mind Von Blitz escaping so much, Chase," said his lordship
earnestly, "as I do the unfortunate closing of what may have been our
only way to leave the château in the end."
"You must think me an ungrateful fool," said Chase bitterly. He had
already stated his position clearly.
"Not at all, old chap. Don't get that into your head. I only meant that
a hole in the ground is worth two warships that won't come when we need
'em."
Chase looked up quickly. "You don't believe that I can call the
cruisers?"
"Oh, come now, Chase, I'm not a demmed native, you know."
The other grinned amiably. "Well, you just wait, as the boy says."
Deppingham put his eyeglass in more firmly and stared at his companion,
not knowing whether to take the remark as a jest or to begin to look for
signs of mental collapse. Britt laughed shortly.
"I guess we'll have to," said the stubby lawyer.
After satisfying themselves that there was no possibility of the enemy
ever being able to enter the château through the collapsed passage, the
trio returned to the upper world.
Involuntarily their gaze went out searchingly over the placid sea. The
whole sky glared back at them, unwrinkled, smokeless, cloudless. Chase
turned to Deppingham, a word of encouragement on his lips. His lordship
was looking intently toward the palm-shaded grotto at the base of the
lower terrace. Britt moved uneasily and then glanced at his
fellow-countryman, a queer expression in his eyes. A moment later
Deppingham was clearing his throat for the brisk comment on the beauty
of the view from the rather unfrequented spot on which they stood.
Robert Browne and Lady Agnes were seated on the edge of the fountain in
Apollo's Grotto, conversing earnestly, even eagerly, with Mr. Bowles,
who stood before them in an unmistakable attitude of indecision and
perturbation. Deppingham's first futile attempt to appear unconcerned
was followed by an oppressive silence, broken at last by the Englishman.
He gave Chase a look which plainly revealed his uneasiness.
"Ever since I've heard that Bowles has the power to marry people, Chase,
I've been upset a bit," he explained nervously.
"You don't mean to say, Lord Deppingham, that you're afraid the heirs
will follow the advice of that rattle-headed Saunders," said Chase, with
a laugh, "Why, it wouldn't hold in court for a second. Ask Britt."
Britt cleared his throat. "Not for half a second," he said. "I'm only
wondering if Bowles has authority to grant divorces."
"I daresay he has," said Deppingham, tugging at his moustache.
"He's--he's a magistrate."
"It doesn't follow," said Chase, "that he has unlimited legal powers."
"But _what_ are they ragging him about down there, Chase," blurted out
the unhappy Deppingham.
"Come in and have a drink," said Chase suddenly. Deppingham was
shivering. "You've got a chill in that damp cellar. I can assure you
positively, as representative of the opposition, that the grandchildren
of Skaggs and Wyckholme are not going to divorce or marry anybody while
I'm here, Britt and Saunders and Bowles to the contrary. And Lady
Deppingham is no fool. Come on and have something to warm the cockles.
You're just childish enough to have the croup to-night." He said it with
such fine humour that Deppingham could not take offence.
"All right, old chap," he said with a laugh. "I am chilled to the bone.
I'll join you in a few minutes." To their surprise, he started off
across the terrace in the direction of the consulting trio. Chase and
Britt silently watched his progress. They saw him join the others,
neither of whom seemed to be confused or upset by his appearance, and
subsequently enter into the discussion that had been going on.
"Just the same, Chase," said Britt, after a long silence, "he's worried,
and not about marriage or divorce, either. He's jealous. I didn't
believe it was in him."
"See here, Britt, you've no right to stir him up with those confounded
remarks about divorce. You know that it's rot. Don't do it."
"My dear Chase," said Britt, waving his hand serenely, "we can't always
see what's in the air, but, by the Eternal, we usually can feel it.
'Nough said. Give you my word, I can't help laughing at the position
you're in at present. It doesn't matter what you get onto in connection
with our side of the case, you're where you can't take advantage of it
without getting killed by your own clients. Horrible paradox, eh?"
When Deppingham rejoined them, he was pale and very nervous. His wife,
who had been weeping, came up with him, while Browne went off toward the
stables with the ex-banker.
"What do you think has happened?" demanded his lordship, addressing the
two men, who stood by, irresolutely. "Somebody's trying to poison us!"
"What!" from both listeners.
"I've said it all along. Now, we know! Lady Deppingham's dog is
dead--poisoned, gentlemen." He was wiping the moisture from his brow.
"I'm sorry, Lady Deppingham," said Chase earnestly. "He was a nice dog.
But I hardly think he could have eaten what was intended for any of us.
If he was poisoned, the poison was meant for him and for no one else. He
bit one of the stable boys yesterday. It--"
"That may all be very true, Chase," protested his lordship, "but don't
you see, it goes to show that some one has a stock of poison on hand,
and we may be the next to get it. He died half an hour after
eating--after eating a biscuit that was intended for _me_! It's--it's
demmed uncomfortable, to say the least."
"Mr. Bowles has been questioning the servants," said Lady Agnes
miserably.
"Of course," said Chase philosophically, "it's much better that Pong
should have got it than Lord Deppingham. By the way, who gave him the
biscuit?"
"Bromley. She tossed it to him and he--he caught it so cleverly. You
know how cunning he was, Mr. Chase. I loved to see him catch--"
"Then Bromley has saved your life, Deppingham," said Chase. "I'm sure
you need the brandy, after all this. Come along. Will you join us, Lady
Deppingham?"
"No. I'm going to bed!" She started away, then stopped and looked at her
husband, her eyes wide with sudden comprehension. "Oh, Deppy, I should
have died! I should have died!"
"My dear!"
"I couldn't have lived if--"
"But, my dear, I _didn't_ eat it--and here we are! God bless you!" He
turned abruptly and walked off beside her, ignoring the two distressed
Americans. As they passed through the French window, Deppingham put his
arm about his wife's waist. Chase turned to Britt.
"I don't know what you're thinking, Britt, but it isn't so, whatever it
is."
"Good Lord, man, I wasn't thinking _that_!"
A very significant fact now stared the occupants of the château in the
face. There was not the slightest doubt in the minds of those conversant
with the situation that the poison had been intended for either Lord or
Lady Deppingham. The drug had been subtly, skilfully placed in one of
the sandwiches which came up to their rooms at eleven o'clock, the hour
at which they invariably drank off a cup of bouillon. Lady Deppingham
was not in her room when Bromley brought the tray. She was on the
gallery with the Brownes. Bromley came to ask her if she desired to have
the bouillon served to her there. Lady Agnes directed her to fetch the
tray, first inviting Mrs. Browne to accept Lord Deppingham's portion.
Drusilla declined and Bromley tossed a sandwich to Pong, who was always
lying in wait for such scraps as might come his way. Lady Agnes always
ate macaroons--never touching the sandwiches. This fact, of course, it
was argued, might not have been known to the would-be poisoner. Her
ladyship, as usual, partook of the macaroons and felt no ill effects. It
was, therefore, clear that the poison was intended for but one of them,
as, on this occasion, a single sandwich came up from the buffet. No one
but Deppingham believed that it was intended for him.
In any event, Pong, the red cocker, was dead. He was in convulsions
almost immediately after swallowing the morsel he had begged for, and in
less than three minutes was out of his misery, proving conclusively that
a dose of deadly proportions had been administered. It is no wonder that
Deppingham shuddered as he looked upon the stiff little body in the
upper hall.
Drusilla Browne was jesting, no doubt, but it is doubtful if any one
grasped the delicacy of her humour when she observed, in mock concern,
addressing the assembled mourners, that she believed the heirs were
trying to get rid of their incumbrances after the good old Borgia
fashion, and that she would never again have the courage to eat a
mouthful of food so long as she stood between her husband and a hymeneal
fortune.
"You know, my dear," she concluded, turning to her Husband, "that I
_might_ have had Lord Deppingham's biscuit. His wife asked me to take
it. Goodness, you're a dreadful Borgia person, Agnes," she went on,
smiling brightly at her ladyship. Deppingham was fumbling nervously at
his monocle. "I should think you _would_ be nervous, Lord Deppingham."
The most rigid questioning elicited no information from the servants.
Baillo's sudden, involuntary look of suspicion, directed toward Lady
Agnes and Robert Browne, did not escape the keen eye of Hollingsworth
Chase.
"Impossible!" he said, half aloud. He looked up and saw that the
Princess was staring at him questioningly. He shook his head, without
thinking.
Despair settled upon the white people. They were confronted by a new and
serious peril: poison! At no time could they feel safe. Chase took it
upon himself to talk to the native servants, urging them to do nothing
that might reflect suspicion upon them. He argued long and forcefully
from the standpoint of a friend and counsellor. They listened stolidly
and repeated their vows of fidelity and integrity. He was astute enough
to take them into his confidence concerning the treachery of Jacob Von
Blitz. It was only after most earnest pleading that he persuaded them
not to slay the German's wives as a temporary expedient.
One of the stable boys volunteered to carry a note from Chase to Rasula,
asking the opportunity to lay a question of grave importance before him.
Chase suggested to Rasula that he should meet him that evening at the
west gate, under a flag of truce. The tone of the letter was more or
less peremptory.
Rasula came, sullen but curious. At first he would not believe; but
Chase was firm in his denunciation of Jacob von Blitz. Then he was
pleased to accuse Chase of duplicity and double-dealing, going so far as
to charge the deposed American with plotting against Von Blitz to
further his own ends in more ways than one. At last, however, when he
was ready to give up in despair, Chase saw signs of conviction in the
manner of the native leader. His own fairness, his courage, had appealed
to Rasula from the start. He did not know it then, but the dark-skinned
lawyer had always felt, despite his envy and resentment, a certain
respect for his integrity and fearlessness.
He finally agreed to follow the advice of the American; grudgingly, to
be sure, but none the less determined.
"You will find everything as I have stated it, Rasula," said Chase. "I'm
sorry you are against me, for I would be your friend. I've told you how
to reach the secret cave. The chests are there. The passage is closed.
You can trap him in the attempt to rob the bank. I could have taken him
red-handed and given him over to Lord Deppingham. But you would never
have known the truth. Now I ask you to judge for yourselves. Give him a
fair trial, Rasula--as you would any man accused of crime--and be just.
If you need a witness--an eye-witness--call on me. I will come and I
will appear against him. I've been honest with you. I am willing to
trust you to be honest with me."