For a moment all was confusion. Colonel Napier sprang to his feet with
an angry gesture, and even Lord Cyril Cuthbertson rose and crossed over
to the place where Fotheringay was sitting near the fire, and consulted
him in low and anxious tones.
Curiously enough, Casteno appeared to be the least perturbed of any of
us, although he had made such a dramatic entry. Somehow he seemed to
take his position in that conference as a matter of right, and when he
saw that none of the others were prepared to talk to him on any terms,
but were determined to treat him as a bold, impertinent interloper, he
swung round from them and stepped up to my desk, where I sat idly
playing with a pen.
"It is not true that I am the wretch whom Colonel Napier has spoken of,"
he said to me very simply, looking me straight in the eyes. "It is not
true that I am an enemy of England, such as Lord Cuthbertson has
suggested. It is not true that I am engaged in any dishonourable or
unpatriotic enterprise; nor was it begun, as they pretend, by my flight
from a monastery in Mexico coincident with the disappearance of Father
Calasanctius; nor did it include in its train the killing of that
exceedingly foolish and indiscreet personage, Sutton. On the contrary,
I assert here that all and each of those allegations are false; and what
is perhaps the more intolerable is the fact that Lord Cyril knows it,
has on his file at the Foreign Office a full report of the affair,
coupled with a diplomatic request that the man should be found and
returned to his friends."
And he turned and faced the Secretary for Foreign Affairs with a
striking look of defiance; but that nobleman would not take up his
challenge. He merely drew a little closer to the earl, who was now
standing listening to him with an expression of the most grave concern,
and the shot went wide.
In no sense disconcerted, however, Don Jose confronted me again.
"You see," he said significantly, "Lord Cuthbertson's striking change of
manner when I am here to face him out. I repeat to you that he dare not
deny what I have just told you, although it suited his purpose well
enough to blacken my name when I was not here to speak up for myself.
The point for you now to consider," he went on in a lower tone, "is, as
a man of honour, not whether you can take up the cause of Lord
Cuthbertson but if you can throw me over on such flimsy, unsubstantial
talk as this has been."
"If he doesn't, Doris shall never speak to him again," cut in Colonel
Napier, who was an old Anglo-Indian, and nothing if not a most
persistent fire-eater.
Don Jose turned as swiftly as though he had been stung by a snake.
"Colonel, that is not worthy of you," he cried. "I beg you withdraw it
for your own sake, for I warn you most solemnly that before a day has
gone you will regret it."
"And I, as an Englishman, jealous of my country's success, refuse,"
thundered the old soldier. "Let it be enough that I have spoken. Mr
Glynn can make his own choice." And throwing back his shoulders he
stalked impressively out of the room.
Almost unobserved, too, the Secretary for Foreign Affairs and Earl
Fotheringay had also manoeuvred their steps towards the doorway; and
now, when Casteno tried to speak with them, they took advantage of a
pause created by the sudden rattle of the colonel's carriage as he drove
towards the Strand to slip out of the room. A minute later there arose
the sound of a loud commotion, as of doors banged and of horses urged to
a gallop, and both of their broughams followed hard in the old soldier's
wake.
"You see," said Don Jose to me, with a little bitterness, "they are not
men big enough to face me out over this matter. They prefer to fling
their poisoned darts at me and to leave them to work their own mischief,
whilst they scuttle off like naughty children who have thrown some
stones through a window and are quite content with the sight of the
damage they have done, without a thought of the anguish of the
householder. Well, well! all this is the trouble which you will no
doubt remember that I, at least, expected and warned you against when I
asked you to join forces with me. I must not now rail against my own
fate, but I do appeal to you--give me a fair chance, do not desert me."
For an instant I wavered. This quest now had assumed truly gigantic
dimensions. Even Cooper-Nassington seemed only a dim, far-off figure
against the overwhelming personality of Cuthbertson. More than that, I
knew if I clung to Casteno I should have one of the most stern fights
with Colonel Napier, who would stop at nothing to keep Doris apart from
me.
None the less, I had my own notions of honour likewise, and it did not
concern me much that they differed from Earl Fotheringay's or Lord Cyril
Cuthbertson's. After all, had I not taken my fee from Don Jose? Had he
not paid me all that I asked? Had I not passed him the sacred pledge of
my word? And so, at last, I gave my decision.
"I have seen nothing in your life, your behaviour, or your conduct," I
cried, "to warrant me in throwing you over in the way those men have
suggested. Until I find some good reason to believe that your
intentions are dishonourable, that your career has been criminal, that
your desires are hostile to England, I cannot desert you."
"Well spoken," replied Don Jose earnestly. "Your determination does you
credit. Believe me, you shall find no cause to make you ashamed that
you ever allied yourself with me. On the contrary, as you go deeper
into this business you will realise that you have done well to stick to
me, however baffling and perplexing may seem some of the adventures I
may have to ask you to undertake. And that reminds me of the real
business we have in hand to-night! How did you get on at the House of
Commons with Cooper-Nassington?"
"Very much better than I could have dared to expect," I replied with
frankness, and returning him his sealed packet addressed to Cuthbertson.
In a few graphic sentences I described to him how I had gone to the
house of the hunchback with the Member of Parliament, and the
extraordinary adventures we had undergone there. Instead, however, of
being pleased with the result of the quest, I could see that the
Spaniard was greatly disturbed at something that had happened on that
occasion. At first he would not tell why we ought not to congratulate
ourselves that Zouche had promised to decipher those manuscripts and
communicate their contents within a fortnight to Mr Cooper-Nassington.
He tried to put me off with commonplace expressions like "Time will
prove," "Never count your chickens," and "Trust no man further than you
can throw him;" but when he realised that I was not going to be denied
he admitted that my news about the attempts on the hunchback's life was
much more serious than anybody had any idea of, because they might
terrify Zouche and make him do things he would not otherwise dream of.
"But we two are men with brains, hands, resolution," I interjected.
"Why need we stand by and let other people like Fotheringay come in and
benefit by our labours? Let us mount guard over Zouche until he has got
through his task of deciphering the documents."
"That's exactly what I was thinking," returned Casteno, "but it is not
so easy to do as it seems. For one thing, Zouche would not let us act
in the capacity of his guardians if he knew we had any aspirations at
all for that office. Another thing--where can we hide ourselves? And
then," he added after a significant pause, "I wanted you to be busy on
another mission. I had a particular reason for wishing that you should
go down to Southampton to-morrow afternoon, when the royal mail steamer
_Atrato_ is expected. A lady whom I want you to meet is coming by that
boat. As a matter of fact, she is bringing certain valuable documents
for me and for the Order of St Bruno, and she will need all the
protection you can give her between the Solent and the Thames if she
isn't kidnapped by some friends of Fotheringay, who, when he was in
Mexico, learnt all about her treasures."
"In that case you must watch the hunchback," I said decisively, "whilst
I run down from Waterloo to Southampton. The whole business won't take
me more than ten hours from London to dock and dock to London."
"But how on earth shall I watch Zouche? How shall I gain admission to
his shop without his knowledge? And where can I hide myself without any
undue risk of being found out?"
"A house like his, full of the most extraordinary curiosities, is the
best hiding-place one could have," I replied. "The only trouble is to
get inside it, but I am sure if I go with you and help you, and we watch
our chance, say whilst his man is taking down the shutters, we can both
slip in and run up to the first-floor showroom, which is over the
parlour. Once there I will help you to conceal yourself, and also open
up for you a peep-hole in the ceiling of the room where the hunchback
does his research work, without the slightest fear you will be pounced
on. Why, old curiosity shops in London are never disturbed or dusted!
Dust is part of the stock-in-trade. Most dealers seem perfectly
satisfied if they sell one thing out of each room per week--and often
that one thing may be merely a miniature or a coin!"
"All right, I'll leave the arrangements with you," answered the
Spaniard, with a laugh. "For the present, however, the most important
thing for you at least seems to be sleep. I propose, therefore, that
before we make another move of any kind you turn in and get a few hours'
sleep whilst I mount guard."
"Yes, I'm tired," I admitted, with a half-smothered yawn; "and, after
all, we can do nothing at the hunchback's until about nine o'clock, so I
think I will do as you suggest." And placing some more coal on the fire
I wished him good-night and made my way to my adjacent bedroom, where,
throwing myself on the sofa, I closed my eyes and endeavoured to push
myself off into a soft, dreamless slumber.
Now it is a curious thing that, whereas in the ordinary way I am about
one of the heaviest and solidest sleepers you could meet in a day's
journey, when danger threatens me or my interests I seem to have some
special intuition which keeps me awake and sensitive to the slightest
omen or sound. I can't explain it. There it is. Ever since I was a
boy I have possessed it, and not once has it failed to warn me when I
ought to be up and about.
And the odd part of it was that it made itself most painfully evident
this night on which Don Jose Casteno proffered to look after me. In
vain I heard his own soft and regular breathing as I crept to the
half-open door noiselessly and listened to his movements. In vain I
drew the clothes right over my head and conjured up sheep jumping over a
stile; pigs elbowing each other through a half-open gate; dogs passing
in endless procession, each with a most plaintive look of entreaty that
I should wear my brain out counting them for some unseen but remorseless
master-calculator--I could not go to sleep. Even the Brahmin magic word
"O--om," which I repeated slowly twice a minute, expelling the air each
time most completely from my lungs, failed to hypnotise me. And then
all at once I heard something--a slow grating sound that seemed to
suggest treachery and mischief.
With all my senses painfully alert I wriggled off my bed and went on
hands and knees, dressed only in my trousers and shirt, to the door of
my outer office. To my surprise I found Casteno, crouching on his knees
also, in front of the fire, which threw a powerful rosy glare on his
clean-shaven features. He had pulled a long evil-looking dagger out of
a belt hidden near his waist and was sharpening its edge on the
hearthstone!
He meant mischief. To whom?
Suddenly, before I had time to think, he rose, and taking up his
clerical-looking hat he stepped noiselessly across the office and
hastened off down the street, a look of terrible resolution on his face.
Whither was he bound?
Had he heard something that had put him on his guard as he sat crouched
over the fire in my arm-chair? Had he seen something or somebody that
meant mischief to me? Or had he suddenly resolved to take advantage of
those early morning hours to avenge himself on some enemy who lived near
at hand? That was where I felt myself as up against a solid wall; it
was so hard to divine what was at the back of a foreign stranger with a
past that might have been crowded with duel and vendetta and adventure
that had given birth to a dozen most deadly hatreds and lusts for
revenge.
Half mechanically I went to the doorway and peered through the early
morning haze up and down Stanton Street. I could see no one--nothing
suspicious--nothing suggestive at all. I was just about to return to my
bedroom when I was startled by something playing about my feet. In a
flash I looked down, and to my astonishment found Colonel Napier's
clumber spaniel gazing at me with the most appealing eyes.
"Hulloa, Fate!" I said, giving him his customary but oddly suggestive
name. "Where have you sprung from? What are you doing here? Did you
run after your master's carriage when the colonel came with Lord
Cuthbertson and get locked in some cupboard in the office here, or did
you fall asleep on a pile of papers?"
The dog looked up, wagging his tail. Then all at once he gave a sharp
bark, and swinging round he tore through the open door down the street
as hard as he could pelt. For an instant I was quite astonished. As a
rule the dog would stop and fuss with me and play several tricks. Now
his manner was so curious that I decided at last he must have expected I
should follow him.
"But that must be a long time yet," I told myself, with a sigh. "I can
never see Doris now until I have cleared up this mystery of the
manuscripts for Don Jose." And, shrugging my shoulders, I made my way
back to the bedroom where, feeling sleep was out of the question, and
that I must try in real earnest to solve the mystery of the expedition
of the Spaniard, I had a tub, and made a hurried toilet, and then set to
work to get myself some breakfast.
In about half-an-hour's time, however, Don Jose returned, and when he
caught sight of me up and dressed he gave such a start of terror I
thought that he would drop on the floor in a fit.
"Well," I said lightly. "You didn't expect to see me about, did you?
Fact was, I couldn't sleep, so I got up to make myself a cup of tea.
Where have you been to at this ungodly hour?"
"To a friend's," he stammered. "A friend's in Whitehall Court. Just a
call--a friendly call. A man I know in Whitehall Court."
"In Whitehall Court," I repeated, bending over some toast I was
buttering. "Why, that's where Colonel Napier lives! Did you happen to
see a clumber spaniel heading in that direction? He was here a few
minutes ago, but suddenly he bolted for his home in great distress, and
I thought that--"
But I never completed the sentence.
All at once I was startled by the sound of a loud fall.