As the taxi sped away with me, the relief was so great that I lay back
on the seat, limp and half fainting. I let myself rest there, revelling
in safety after the strain of danger. Nothing could keep me now from
Eagle, I told myself, and nothing could stand between him and his
righteous revenge on Sidney Vandyke. If he were not at home when I got
to Whitehall Court I would wait until he came, even if I had to sit in
the taxi, within sight of his door, all night. But he _would_ be at
home! I felt that, when he left the Russian Embassy, he had been in no
mood to go anywhere else, unless for a lonely walk; and, even so, he
ought to have got back by this time. He had left before I had, and I
must have arrived at Diana's an hour ago.
It was only when the taxi drew up in Whitehall Court that I remembered
leaving my little gold bag--a present from Kitty--with my discarded
cloak in Park Lane. All the money I had was in the bag. I could not pay
the chauffeur; but, in any case, I meant to keep him till I learned
whether or no Eagle were at home.
To my chagrin, the man looked dubious. "How long, Miss, will you want me
to wait?" he inquired.
I explained that I could not tell yet. I must find out whether the
friend I had come to see were in. If not I might need to keep the taxi a
long time.
"Very sorry, Miss," the chauffeur replied, "but I have an appointment in
a quarter of an hour from now in Downing Street with an official
gentleman I serve pretty often. I was on the way there when you called
me; but when you said 'Whitehall Court', I took you up because you
seemed in a hurry and I thought there was plenty of time. I supposed you
was going to stop here, it bein' rather late in the night for a young
lady, but I can't possibly stay more'n five minutes longer. Tell you
what I can do, I'll ask another feller to come along and wait for you."
There was no help for it. I had to confess that I was penniless, having
forgotten my money. "But here's a bangle," I said, slipping my one bit
of jewellery off my arm. "You can have this for security. If you'll give
me your card I'll send the money to-morrow, and I'll trust you to send
back the bangle."
I held it out to him: a thin band of gold with a four-leaved shamrock
made of emeralds--a present from Tony, which he had implored me to keep
in memory of our "friendship".
The chauffeur hesitated, evidently asking himself whether or no I might
be trusted without the security. As he turned the bangle over in his
hand, and the question in his mind, I heard quick steps coming along the
dark street, and looking up, the taxi lights showed me Eagle March's
face. He was far more surprised than I was, because it had already
occurred to me that he might cool his brain with a solitary stroll in
the night.
"Oh, Eagle!" I exclaimed, giving him hardly time to be sure of
recognition. "How thankful I am that you appeared just at the right
minute. I've come to see you about something _very_ important, and I
haven't a penny."
No doubt Eagle was astonished that I should be arriving alone,
cloakless, at half-past eleven or later to call upon him; but after the
first look of amazement at sight of me, he concealed his feelings. For a
second--no longer--he hesitated. Then he said, smiling, "I have plenty
of pennies! Don't you think I'd better get into your taxi with you, and
drive round for a few minutes rather than you should--have the trouble
of coming into my place?"
"The driver has an engagement," I said. "And, anyhow, I _must_ come in.
It's really serious, Eagle."
He argued no more, though he looked somewhat troubled for my sake. I
understood very well his state of mind. He paid and tipped the
chauffeur, who handed back my bangle and darted off.
"Were you going to give the fellow that?" Eagle asked, nodding at the
gold band. "Then it must indeed be serious. I once heard you say at El
Paso that it was your most valued possession!"
"Fancy your remembering!" I said.
"I remember lots of things concerning you," he answered, as he guided me
into the big, dignified building whose lights were lowered like most of
London's illuminations in these Zeppelin-haunted times.
"Wish the bangle on for me," I said hastily, at the foot of the stairs,
which we were to ascend rather than expose my uncovered shoulders to the
scandalized eyes of the man in the lift.
"Would Dalziel approve?" he asked, smiling, as I thrust the bangle into
his hand. "You showed it to me in Texas as a 'filopena present' from
Tony."
"You remember that, too? This is the one thing I've kept to remind me of
poor Tony."
"Poor Tony, indeed, if you've sent him about his business."
Eagle slipped the bangle over my hand, looking straight at me, as though
wondering not only why I had come, but why I was so pale and strange.
"Wish that my errand here to-night may end in the greatest and most
glorious success," I prompted him.
He held my wrist for a second or two, wishing silently. Then he dropped
it rather abruptly, and we went upstairs to the first floor, where were
the chambers lent to Eagle by his friend. I felt somehow that, by asking
him for such a wish, I had impressed him with the real importance of my
night visit.
He unlocked the door of the flat with a latch-key and almost pushed me
in, as if fearing that I might be seen and perhaps recognized by some
passing occupant of the house. Switching on the electricity, the
vestibule was lit by a red-shaded light, cheerfully welcoming. Off it
opened two or three rooms, and Eagle ushered me into a large
oak-panelled study, lined with bookshelves and having long windows,
which, when uncurtained, would look out on the Embankment. Now they were
draped with crimson velvet, the sort of hangings that normal men with no
female belongings invariably choose. By the door stood a tall folding
screen, covered with red satin and oriental embroidery. There were
bronzes and a few marble busts on top of the low bookshelves; on the oak
panelling, here and there, hung a huge Chinese plate, here and there a
sporting picture. With one glance I took in the whole interior, and saw
that it was thoroughly masculine. In a large fireplace some logs of
wood, evidently not long ago ignited, were crackling. Suddenly aware
that I was very cold, I walked across the room and--shivering--held out
my hands to the blaze. But I still kept the khaki coat hanging over my
arm.
"Poor child, you look frozen!" said Eagle. "Why didn't you put on your
coat?"
I laughed--a nervous, excited laugh. "_My_ coat!" I echoed. "Look at
it!"
So saying, I stretched out my arm to display the garment, and Eagle saw
what it was.
"Khaki uniform!" he exclaimed. "From the U. S. A. By Jove! Is it Tony
Dalziel's?"
"Indeed it is not," I returned. "I'm here to tell you about it. Oh,
Eagle, what _should_ I have done if you hadn't come home?"
"You oughtn't to be here, dear Peggy," he said. "And I'm not sure that I
ought to have brought you in, but I've got into the habit of trusting
you when you tell me that a thing's important."
"It _is_ important," I cut him short. "So important I hardly know where
to begin."
"Your wits are too quick for you to be in doubt long," Eagle flattered
me, smiling; "and you must begin at once, dear child, because for the
sake of all the conventionalities I can't let you make me a long call,
good as it is to see you here. We are alone in the place now, so it's
all right for the moment. The servant my friend Jim White lends me with
the rooms doesn't stay at night. He lights the fire and puts everything
shipshape, and then leaves me in peace till morning. But Jim himself,
who is doing interpreter's work in France, has run back for the day on
business. He is with some War Office chaps for the evening, but any time
after twelve o'clock I expect him back to stay the night. You must be
gone before then, so you see we have twenty minutes at most."
"Rome was saved in _one_ minute, I've always heard," I said. "Eagle,
this coat was Sidney Vandyke's. It's mine now, because Diana gave it to
me, with a lot of other things they cared nothing about, for our Belgian
men. They didn't know God was delivering them into my hands--and your
hands. For I give this to you to do with as you will. It is the coat
Major Vandyke wore the night at El Paso when he was in temporary
command. He wore it when his orderly, Johnson, brought him the message
you wrote on a leaf out of your notebook--the message he swore never
reached him."
As I spoke I held out the coat in both hands, with the inside toward
Eagle, so that he could see for himself the hole I had made in the
lining, and perhaps draw his own conclusions. I saw his eyes fix
themselves on the long, tell-tale slit and the colour rush up to his
forehead.
"Who tore that slit in the lining?" he asked sharply.
"I tore it to-night!"
"Peggy!... You found something?"
"Yes! It had slipped through a ripped place down between the cloth and
the lining."
"Good God! _The message?_"
"The message! Here it is." And from the bosom of my low dress I pulled
the folded bit of khaki-yellow paper, warm from my heart. He took it
from me. Our fingers touched, and his were cold as ice.
I stood still while he opened the paper and read the words which were of
as great importance in his life now as when he wrote them. They had
power to make all the difference to him and to another man between
honour and dishonour.
For a long minute he was silent and motionless, reading or thinking.
Then he looked up abruptly, and his eyes blazed into mine.
"Peggy!" he said in a level, monotonous tone which I knew hid deep
feeling. "Do you realize what this means to me?"
"Yes," I answered. "I realize fully. I've dreamed of a moment like this
for you. I've lived for it, for weeks and months that seem like years."
"And that it should come to me from you!"
"I hoped--I prayed."
"Tell me what happened."
I told him, only leaving out the part about Diana, how she had come home
and guessed the secret I had found and tried to rob me. To mention that,
I thought, might seem as if I were trying to boast of what I had done.
Then, when I had explained how I dashed out of the house, leaving
everything but the coat, which would be invaluable as proof, I hurried
on, lest he should ask questions I didn't wish to answer.
"What has become of the notebook?" I wanted to know. "I hope you've got
it?"
"Better than that," Eagle said. "If I'd had it in my possession all this
time I might have written this message whenever I chose, torn out the
leaf, and pretended that it had been done on the night of the gunfiring.
Luckily Dell, the friend who defended me in my trial, kept the book. It
was produced at the court-martial in my defence, and the torn edge
shown, with the marks on the next page made by pressing down heavily
with a blunt pencil. Vague traces of words could be seen, but even with
a magnifying glass they couldn't be read. There was no evidence that
amounted to anything, but my friend kept the book. He said it might be
of use some day. I had no such hope, but now--my God, Peggy, with that
coat and your story, the case against Vandyke seems to me complete!"
"How thankful I am to hear you say that!" I almost sobbed, moved by his
excitement to greater excitement of my own. "I felt it must be so; but
I'm only a girl. I didn't _know_. I couldn't be sure. Oh, Eagle! You'll
never understand what it is to me to think I've been able to help you,
even a little. If it hadn't been for me the dreadful thing would never
have happened. You'd still be just what you were before we met."
"You've not helped me a 'little'; you've given me new life," he said.
"Some time I'll tell you, maybe, why I'd rather have the gift from you
than any one else. But I can't understand what you mean by saying 'the
thing would never have happened' if it hadn't been for you."
"If I hadn't wanted a new dress, and if I hadn't gone to Wardour Street
to sell my lace and make money to buy the frock, we should never have
known each other. You wouldn't have seen Diana; we shouldn't have gone
to America, and if we hadn't gone to America, and met Major Vandyke,
those guns would never have been fired, and heaps of official bother
would have been saved. But far the best of all, _you_ would have been as
happy as ever!'"
"You might as well blame yourself for being born," said Eagle; "and on
my soul, I tell you, Peggy, that even without the new hope you've given
me to-night, I wouldn't go back if I could choose, and be without my
experience in Belgium, or--or without _you_ in my life."
He held out his hands for mine, and I gave them to a grasp that hurt.
Something he was about to say; but before he had time to speak there
came a long shrill peal of the electric bell.
Eagle dropped my hands instantly. "By Jove! It must be Jim. He's
forgotten his key! I don't want him to see you, Peggy. He's a very good
fellow, but a rattle-brain--tells everything he knows. Run behind that
red screen, and when I've got him into his own room, which I'll do
somehow in a few minutes, I'll take you to a taxi, and drive home with
you if it can be managed."
I whisked behind the screen, peeping out to whisper: "Better hide the
khaki coat if you don't want questions!"
Eagle took my advice, handing me the coat to keep for him as he passed
on his way to the door. There was plenty of room to stand behind the
screen without flattening myself against the wall. And without danger of
being seen I could look through the interstices between the leaves of
the screen into the brightly lighted room.
I heard Eagle's footsteps on the parquet floor of the vestibule. I heard
the click of the latch as he opened the door. After that, instead of a
loud, jolly greeting from his friend, there was dead silence for an
instant. Then a woman's voice spoke in a low tone of intense and
passionate eagerness. I had never heard it speak in that tone before.
But with a shock of surprise and fear, I recognized the voice: it was
Diana's.