"Well," I said, "let us assume, then, that Faraday means to make an
attempt to steal the jewels, that he has a high-powered car in
readiness, and a boat of some sort waiting by the sea. I dare say that
part of it might be managed all right. It's a desolate coast, the road
to it lies over a mountain range, and he could easily start from a place
where there is no telephone or telegraph. But--it's the robbery itself
that seems to me so impossible. I can't conceive how any one could get
at the Duke's key, and, having got it, how they could pass the man on
duty at the door, to say nothing of leaving the Castle afterwards."
"Most robberies seem like that until afterwards," Rose answered, a
little drily.
"Besides," I argued, "Faraday is, in his way, a famous man. He must earn
several thousands a year. Why should he run such appalling risks?"
"Go and look at the _Era_, which I left on the sitting-room table," she
enjoined. "Look at the paragraph at the bottom of the sixth page."
I obeyed her, and read with a little start of surprise of the great
deception accorded to Faraday at Melbourne the previous week.
"What does it mean?" I asked Rose, when I returned.
"It means that this man isn't Faraday at all," she declared. "I was
doubtful of him from the first. I saw Faraday at the Coliseum about two
years ago, and I am sure that he was a much older man."
"In that case," I said thoughtfully, "I suppose it is our duty to warn
the Duke."
"You must do as you think best," Rose decided.
I made my way reluctantly downstairs and turned into the gardens where I
was told the Duke was. I found him at the end of a rose pergola. The
Princess was seated by his side, and at the sound of their voices I
hesitated and would have turned back. The Duke, however, recognised me
and called out. In the bright moonlight which was flooding the gardens,
he seemed unnaturally pale. His tone, too, when he addressed me, had
lost its smooth, pleasant intonation. He was like a man who has been
undergoing torture. The slight smile upon the Princess's lips chilled
and depressed me. I felt that it was not a pleasant interview which I
had disturbed.
"Were you looking for me, Lister?" the Duke asked.
"In a sense I was, your Grace," I admitted. "I--er--there was a little
matter I thought I ought to mention to you."
"Well?"
I felt suddenly that my mission was ridiculous and my suspicions
intolerable. Since I was there, however, I had to go through with it.
"The man Faraday, the illusionist," I began----
"Well, what about him?" the Duke interrupted sharply.
"Some one who saw Faraday perform at the Coliseum two years ago," I
continued, "is of opinion that this man is not Faraday at all. The
suspicion is confirmed by the fact that, according to this week's _Era_,
Faraday is performing in Melbourne."
"I have no doubt that your information is correct," the Duke replied
coldly. "Now I come to think of it, I believe the agents told me that
they were sending a Faraday man but not Faraday himself. You surely had
some reason for bringing me this--information?"
The wild absurdity of the whole thing made me feel like a fool. Then I
remembered, however, that we had been deliberately sent here by our
Machiavellian chief, and we had never been sent anywhere in vain.
"It must sound idiotic, your Grace," I confessed, "but we were all very
much impressed by the precautions against robbery connected with your
jewel chamber. The fact that there was a man staying here to whom you
yourself preferred not to show the jewels--staying here under a false
name, with a ninety horse-power motor car in the garage----"
The Duke interrupted me with a slight exclamation and a little wave of
the hand.
"I never dreamed that you were such an old woman, Lister," he said. "I
am much obliged to you for your warning," he added, with some return of
his old courtesy. "As it happens, however, I was already aware that this
man was not Faraday himself, and I fancy that my precautions for
guarding the Lorringham treasures are adequate."
The Princess leaned a little forward. I sympathised with the Duke. In
this faint, enchanting light, she was ravishingly beautiful.
"Do not be too confident, dear host," she murmured. "If women were only
made of sterner stuff, a lock has never been fashioned which could keep
a pearl lover from your jewel chamber."
The Duke smiled.
"Nevertheless," he added, turning to me with a friendly gesture of
dismissal, "you may sleep soundly to-night and as many nights as you
remain under my roof. The spells are not yet woven which could charm
those jewels from their cases."
I made my way back to the Castle, a little confused. There seemed to be
in the Duke's last words a subtle behest to me, a warning not to concern
myself further in his affairs. And from three to six on this coming
morning, Edwards was guard of the chamber, and my rôle of watcher was
already established.
It must have been within a few seconds of the chiming of a quarter past
three, that the intense silence of the gallery, into which I had found
my way without difficulty, was broken in even the slightest degree.
Opposite where I crouched, in a high-backed chair, with a glass of cold
water by his side, sat the custodian of the jewel chamber. A little to
the right was the narrow passage leading to the Duke's apartments. Two
electric lights were burning, and through one of the windows came pale
splashes of faint moonlight. The effect was a weird and confusing
illumination which made it hard to recognise even the simplest objects.
The armoured figures cast fantastic shadows across the floor, the
outline of the watching man seemed distorted and unreal, and the whole
setting of the little scene was unnatural, a stimulus to nervous
imagination. For this very reason I covered my eyes and looked again for
a moment at the apparition which at first presented every semblance of
the impossible. The second time I knew that I had not been deceived--I
knew that something was happening.
The end of that little passage leading from the Duke's apartments to the
watching figure was wrapped in gloom. The faint creaking which had first
attracted my attention might have come from an unseen door there, or it
might have been the not unnatural creaking of timbers in an old house.
The sound, however, was followed by a strange vision. I saw an arm
stretched out from the shadows, linger for a moment over the tumbler,
and then disappear. I rubbed my eyes. Was this Faraday and his toy
magic, or reality? I waited. It might have been ten minutes before the
next happening. The watcher in the chair stretched out his arm, lifted
the tumbler to his lips and drank. After that there was silence again.
Then from the spot where the arm had come, a figure dressed in black
stole out, the figure of a man of medium height, without betraying
collar or shirt front, black as a bat save for the pale blur of an
indistinguishable face, and noiseless. He stooped over the custodian,
now evidently either asleep or unconscious. In a moment or two he stood
upright, paused before the door of the jewel chamber, and with a
curious, apparently effortless movement, passed through it. Then it
seemed to me that my time had come for action. I stole quietly down the
few stairs, unfastened the door of the gallery, and crept up the
corridor. The door of the jewel chamber was ajar, and through it I could
see the shining of the electric light inside, a glimmer of which fell
upon the face of the drugged custodian. Suddenly, upon the very
threshold of the jewel chamber, I stopped short. All my wariness was
gone, lost in a shock of surprise. A little exclamation broke from my
lips. The next second I found myself struggling for my life. The walls
swam round. I raised my voice and gave a great cry. After that there was
silence.
At twelve o'clock the next morning, with a bandage around my head, and
feeling still the effects of an almost delirious night, I stepped into
the car which was waiting to take us to the station. The Duke, who was
practising at the cricket nets, came hurrying across to us, his bat
still in his hand.
"I had no idea that you were going by this early train!" he exclaimed.
"So glad that I did not miss you altogether."
Rose murmured something polite, and Leonard said a word or two about the
pleasure of our stay. I remained silent.
"I am afraid," our host continued, smiling at me, "that I was a little
unsympathetic in the small hours of the morning. I am never at my best
when I am roused from sleep. However, you must let me express my regrets
to you now, Mr. Lister, for your little accident. At the same time," he
went on, "I am sure you will agree with me that the neighbourhood of the
jewel chamber is rather a dangerous place for a man addicted to
nightmares to be wandering about at three o'clock in the morning."