IN THE HOUSE AT LINDEN FELLS.
An entire week had passed since the arrival of the steamer which brought
the Dantons home to America, and during that time not a single sign of
Paul Rogers or his following had been made manifest.
Nick Carter’s watchfulness did not, however, abate in the slightest
degree, for he reasoned that the conspirators were merely biding their
time, and he smiled to himself also, when he recalled the conversation
he had held with Red Morgan in which that worthy had informed him of the
numerous oaths against his life.
“If any of the gang are looking for me, it must puzzle them to guess
where I have gone,” he mused. “It never occurred to me that in coming
here and playing the part of butler, I was, in effect, killing two birds
with one stone--getting out of their way on the one hand, and getting in
their way on the other.”
For Nick had been the “butler” at Linden Fells an entire week. Chick had
in the meantime filled the post of valet to Mr. Danton, for whom, as
Mercedes had predicted, he never once had a service to perform. The old
man thoroughly despised valets, and would not have one near him. He
argued that his wife and daughter merely required the services of an
extra person in the house and that they chose to hire that person under
the name and guise of a valet for him--which, as a matter of fact, was
not far wrong.
Patsy filled the rôle of extra stable-boy during this interim--and Patsy
enjoyed it.
“Sure,” he said, “there’s nothin’ I’d ruther do on earth than shake
hands wid a hoorse!” and it was true. He loved all horses and preferred
their society to men.
During the week there had been moments when Nick had found opportunity
of exchanging a few words with Mercedes Danton, but for the most part
she had held herself entirely aloof, and had treated him exactly as his
ostensible position demanded that he should be treated.
Indeed, Nick had insisted on that point, and he often smiled to himself
at the literal manner in which she had taken him at his word.
During the week, also, Reginald had returned; but he was rarely at home,
and he took no more notice of the new butler than he would have taken of
a post, had it been stationed in the front hallway of the
house--probably not as much, for the post would have been out of place
there while a butler was a part and parcel of the furniture.
It was plainly to be seen, however, that Mercedes did not like the
situation at all. She had shown no outward feeling about it at all at
first, but as time went on and finally lengthened into a week, she
became restless under the conditions, and, at last, on the day which
completed the week’s stay for the detective, she found an opportunity to
send her mother out on a solitary drive in the victoria, and then, when
she was sure that there would be no interruptions, she called Nick into
the library.
“Don’t you think, Mr. Carter, that this has gone far enough?” she asked,
somewhat coldly.
“That what has gone far enough?” replied Nick.
“This masquerade.”
“No; to be perfectly truthful, I do not.”
“It is becoming intolerable to me.”
“Why?”
“Do you think I can explain to you why? In fact, need I explain to you,
why? Don’t you know why as well as I do.”
“I think I can understand how you feel about it--yes.”
“Well, it must cease. You must go away.”
“Pardon me, Miss Danton; I must stay.”
“Against my wishes?”
“Certainly not; but with your approval. If, when I came here to act as
your butler, I could have foretold the exact time when your enemies were
to make a move, there would not have arisen the necessity for me to play
the part I have taken at all. I could simply have appeared here, hidden
myself in a closet until the villains announced themselves, as they do
in plays, met them in front of the footlights, so to speak, and choked
them into submission to the applause of the galleries. Unfortunately,
this is not a play.”
“It seems strangely like a farce to me.”
“God grant it may not prove to be a tragedy.”
“I wish you would not take things so funereally, Mr. Carter,” she said,
with some show of petulance.
“How can I take it otherwise when I know the seriousness of the
situation?”
“But do you know it? Is it not rather due to your imagination and to
your--your--what shall I say?”
“Say what you started to say and did not wish to complete.”
“One would suppose you could tell what that was.”
“I could. You were about to add, in effect, that I was overzealous in
your behalf. Perhaps I am. I do know that danger threatens you, and I
do know that there is no place in the world where I can meet and turn
aside that danger as here on the ground where it is sure to fall sooner
or later.”
“But this condition is likely to go on for weeks.”
“In that case we must wait weeks.”
“No,” she said. “It must cease. Listen, Mr. Carter; have you not told me
that my brother is also in peril? In peril that is really as great as
mine?”
“Yes; he is in peril, but it is not as great as yours, because nothing
that could happen to him would be as serious as if it should happen to
you. In conditions of this kind, we can only go by contrasts.”
“But you leave him entirely unguarded while you devote all your time to
watching over me.”
“Pardon me. We are watching over your mother, your father, your home,
and your surroundings. Neither is your brother neglected. He comes home
usually during the small hours of the morning and goes away again about
midday, but there is never a moment when he could run into danger
without my knowledge--unless it happened to be inside one of his own
club-houses where my shadows cannot follow him.”
“But this espionage seems to me to be something dreadful. The truth is,
if you will have it, Mr. Carter, that I cannot bear the thought that you
are here in this house acting as a servant. I do not mind the presence
of your assistant, or of Patsy, in the stable; but----”
“But you want me to get out.”
“You put the statement in rather a brutal manner, but in plain English I
suppose that to be precisely what I do want,” she replied. “Of course, I
know that you understand exactly what I mean by that statement, so what
is the use of softening it?”
“None whatever; and you could not say words which would delight me
more--just at this present moment and crisis.”
“Please go away, Mr. Carter. If this espionage must be continued, send
another of your assistants.”
Nick thought deeply for a moment, and then, smiling at her, said:
“Very well. I can send you a man who is almost as old as the one who
went away to make room for me, but he is perfectly reliable. I will give
you a letter which you will hand to Chick. You shall send him into the
city this afternoon, and he in turn will send out the man who is to take
my place. Will that do?”
“Admirably,” and Mercedes smiled brightly. Then, impulsively she took a
step forward and put out her hand. “Please do not misunderstand me,” she
began, but he stopped her.
“I understand you perfectly,” he said. “I realize now that I should have
sent an assistant in the first place instead of coming myself; but
you----”
“Please say no more now,” she interrupted. “You cannot know how terrible
it seems to me to be on terms of intimacy with my butler.”
“It is, perhaps, a good lesson in sociology,” said Nick. Then he seated
himself at the library table and wrote rapidly, his instructions to
Chick. That done, he sealed the note and gave it to her.
“You will notice that I have sealed the message I have written,” he
said. “That is done because I am a butler, and do not know any better;
not because I fear that you may read the contents of my letter. The mere
sealing of the note is a part of the masquerade;” and he laughed in a
low tone.
“Is that necessary, in writing to your assistant?” she asked.
“Quite,” he said. “And now, if you will give that to Chick and then
return here, I have two or three more questions I would like to ask you.
Remember that in two hours my substitute will be here, and that
thereafter I will have no further opportunity for consultation with
you.”
The note which Mercedes delivered to Chick, and which took him at once
into the city, directed him simply to go there and make himself up
according to directions given, and then to return and take Nick’s place
as butler, and it explained that Nick himself would, after he was
relieved from duty as butler, assume the disguise that Chick had worn
and return in his place as valet. So the reader will see that Nick
Carter had no intention of leaving the house at all, but determined
merely to change places with Chick.
When Mercedes returned to the room where Nick was awaiting her, he
pointed to a chair, and then, with slow emphasis, he said:
“Miss Danton, there is a question which I have long wished to ask you
and which will seem impertinent. Nevertheless, I assure you that it is
important that you should answer it, because since I have been familiar
with the incidents connected with this family, many things not on the
surface have come to my notice.”
“What is the question, Mr. Carter?”
“It is a question which I might ask of your brother, or father, or
mother, if I chose to ask it in another way; but I have thought best to
ask it of you, because I think, in your heart, you, of all the family,
will best understand my motives.”
“I will understand at least, that you deal without impertinence or idle
curiosity, even if your question should appear so,” she replied, in a
low tone. “I think I understand your motives, Mr. Carter, and if, in
sending you away I have seemed to lack appreciation of them, I assure
you that I have not----”
“Hush! I, too, understand. Now listen, for this is the question. Since
our acquaintance began, I have taken occasion to look up, rather
carefully, the history of your immediate family, and I find that you had
an elder brother, six years older than Reginald, to whose memory a small
monument has been erected in Woodlawn. That monument was placed there
when you were ten years old. The question itself is this: Have you any
reason to believe that the brother, to whose memory that monument was
raised, is still alive?”