HARCUTT'S INSPIRATION
Wolfenden lost his match upon the last hole; nevertheless it was a
finely contested game, and when Mr. Sabin proposed a round on the
following day, he accepted without hesitation. He did not like Mr. Sabin
any the better--in fact he was beginning to acquire a deliberate
distrust of him. Something of that fear with which other people regarded
him had already communicated itself to Wolfenden. Without having the
shadow of a definite suspicion with regard to the man or his character,
he was inclined to resent that interest in the state of affairs at
Deringham Hall which Mr. Sabin had undoubtedly manifested. At the same
time he was Helene's guardian, and so long as he occupied that position
Wolfenden was not inclined to give up his acquaintance.
They parted in the pavilion, Wolfenden lingering for a few minutes, half
hoping that he might receive some sort of invitation to call at Mr.
Sabin's temporary abode. Perhaps, under the circumstances, it was
scarcely possible that any such invitation could be given, although had
it been Wolfenden would certainly have accepted it. For he had no idea
of at once relinquishing all hope as regards Helene. He was naturally
sanguine, and he was very much in love. There was something mysterious
about that other engagement of which he had been told. He had an idea
that, but for Mr. Sabin's unexpected appearance, Helene would have
offered him a larger share of her confidence. He was content to wait for
it.
Wolfenden had ridden over from home, and left his horse in the hotel
stables. As he passed the hall a familiar figure standing in the open
doorway hailed him. He glanced quickly up, and stopped short. It was
Harcutt who was standing there, in a Norfolk tweed suit and thick boots.
"Of all men in the world!" he exclaimed in blank surprise. "What, in the
name of all that's wonderful, are you doing here?"
Harcutt answered with a certain doggedness, almost as though he resented
Wolfenden's astonishment.
"I don't know why you should look at me as though I were a ghost," he
said. "If it comes to that, I might ask you the same question. What are
you doing here?"
"Oh! I'm at home," Wolfenden answered promptly. "I'm down to visit my
people; it's only a mile or two from here to Deringham Hall."
Harcutt dropped his eyeglass and laughed shortly.
"You are wonderfully filial all of a sudden," he remarked. "Of course
you had no other reason for coming!"
"None at all," Wolfenden answered firmly. "I came because I was sent
for. It was a complete surprise to me to meet Mr. Sabin here--at least
it would have been if I had not travelled down with his niece. Their
coming was simply a stroke of luck for me."
Harcutt assumed a more amiable expression.
"I am glad to hear it," he said. "I thought that you were stealing a
march on me, and there really was not any necessity, for our interests
do not clash in the least. It was different between you and poor old
Densham, but he's given it up of his own accord and he sailed for India
yesterday."
"Poor old chap!" Wolfenden said softly. "He would not tell you, I
suppose, even at the last, what it was that he had heard about--these
people?"
"He would not tell me," Harcutt answered; "but he sent a message to you.
He wished me to remind you that you had been friends for fifteen years,
and he was not likely to deceive you. He was leaving the country, he
said, because he had certain and definite information concerning the
girl, which made it absolutely hopeless for either you or he to think of
her. His advice to you was to do the same."
"I do not doubt Densham," Wolfenden said slowly; "but I doubt his
information. It came from a woman who has been Densham's friend. Then,
again, what may seem an insurmountable obstacle to him, may not be so to
me. Nothing vague in the shape of warnings will deter me."
"Well," Harcutt said, "I have given you Densham's message and my
responsibility concerning it is ended. As you know, my own interests lie
in a different direction. Now I want a few minutes' conversation with
you. The hotel rooms are a little too public. Are you in a hurry, or can
you walk up and down the drive with me once or twice?"
"I can spare half an hour very well," Wolfenden said; "but I should
prefer to do no more walking just yet. Come and sit down here--it isn't
cold."
They chose a seat looking over the sea. Harcutt glanced carefully all
around. There was no possibility of their being overheard, nor indeed
was there any one in sight.
"I am developing fresh instincts," Harcutt said, as he crossed his legs
and lit a cigarette. "I am here, I should like you to understand, purely
in a professional capacity--and I want your help."
"But my dear fellow," Wolfenden said; "I don't understand. If, when you
say professionally, you mean as a journalist, why, what on earth in this
place can there be worth the chronicling? There is scarcely a single
person known to society in the neighbourhood."
"Mr. Sabin is here!" Harcutt remarked quietly.
Wolfenden looked at him in surprise.
"That might have accounted for your presence here as a private
individual," he said; "but professionally, how on earth can he interest
you?"
"He interests me professionally very much indeed," Harcutt answered.
Wolfenden was getting puzzled.
"Mr. Sabin interests you professionally?" he repeated slowly. "Then you
have learnt something. Mr. Sabin has an identity other than his own."
"I suspect him to be," Harcutt said slowly, "a most important and
interesting personage. I have learnt a little concerning him. I am here
to learn more; I am convinced that it is worth while."
"Have you learnt anything," Wolfenden asked, "concerning his niece?"
"Absolutely nothing," Harcutt answered decidedly. "I may as well repeat
that my interest is in the man alone. I am not a sentimental person at
all. His niece is perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in
my life, but it is with no thought of her that I have taken up this
investigation. Having assured you of that, I want to know if you will
help me?"
"You must speak a little more plainly," Wolfenden said; "you are
altogether too vague. What help do you want, and for what purpose?"
"Mr. Sabin," Harcutt said; "is engaged in great political schemes. He is
in constant and anxious communication with the ambassadors of two great
Powers. He affects secrecy in all his movements, and the name by which
he is known is without doubt an assumed one. This much I have learnt
for certain. My own ideas are too vague yet for me to formulate. I
cannot say any more, except that I believe him to be deep in some design
which is certainly not for the welfare of this country. It is my
assurance of this which justifies me in exercising a certain espionage
upon his movements--which justifies me also, Wolfenden, in asking for
your assistance."
"My position," Wolfenden remarked, "becomes a little difficult. Whoever
this man Sabin may be, nothing would induce me to believe ill of his
niece. I could take no part in anything likely to do her harm. You will
understand this better, Harcutt, when I tell you that, a few hours ago,
I asked her to be my wife."
"You asked her--what?"
"To be my wife."
"And she?"
"Refused me!"
Harcutt looked at him for a moment in blank amazement.
"Who refused you--Mr. Sabin or his niece?"
"Both!"
"Did she--did Mr. Sabin know your position, did he understand that you
are the future Earl of Deringham?"
"Without a doubt," Wolfenden answered drily; "in fact Mr. Sabin seems to
be pretty well up in my genealogy. He had met my father once, he told
me."
Harcutt, with the natural selfishness of a man engaged upon his
favourite pursuit, quite forgot to sympathise with his friend. He
thought only of the bearing of this strange happening upon his quest.
"This," he remarked, "disposes once and for all of the suggestion that
these people are ordinary adventurers."
"If any one," Wolfenden said, "was ever idiotic enough to entertain the
possibility of such a thing. I may add that from the first I have had
almost to thrust my acquaintance upon them, especially so far as Mr.
Sabin is concerned. He has never asked me to call upon them here, or in
London; and this morning when he found me with his niece he was quietly
but furiously angry."
"It is never worth while," Harcutt said, "to reject a possibility until
you have tested and proved it. What you say, however, settles this one.
They are not adventurers in any sense of the word. Now, will you answer
me a few questions? It may be just as much to your advantage as to mine
to go into this matter."
Wolfenden nodded.
"You can ask the questions, at any rate," he said; "I will answer them
if I can."
"The young lady--did she refuse you from personal reasons? A man can
always tell, you know. Hadn't you the impression, from her answer, that
it was more the force of circumstances than any objection to you which
prompted her negative? I've put it bluntly, but you know what I mean."
Wolfenden did not answer for nearly a minute. He was gazing steadily
seaward, recalling with a swift effort of his imagination every word
which had passed between them--he could even hear her voice, and see her
face with the soft, dark eyes so close to his. It was a luxury of
recollection.
"I will admit," he said, quietly, "that what you suggest has already
occurred to me. If it had not, I should be much more unhappy than I am
at this moment. To tell you the honest truth I was not content with her
answer, or rather the manner of it. I should have had some hope of
inducing her to, at any rate, modify it, but for Mr. Sabin's unexpected
appearance. About him, at least, there was no hesitation; he said no,
and he meant it."
"That is what I imagined might be the case," Harcutt said thoughtfully.
"I don't want to have you think that I imagine any disrespect to the
young lady, but don't you see that either she and Mr. Sabin must stand
towards one another in an equivocal position, or else they must be in
altogether a different station of life to their assumed one, when they
dismiss the subject of an alliance with you so peremptorily."
Wolfenden flushed up to the temples, and his eyes were lit with fire.
"You may dismiss all idea of the former possibility," he said, with
ominous quietness. "If you wish me to discuss this matter with you
further you will be particularly careful to avoid the faintest allusion
to it."
"I have never seriously entertained it," Harcutt assented cheerfully;
"I, too, believe in the girl. She looks at once too proud and too
innocent for any association of such thoughts with her. She has the
bearing and the manners of a queen. Granted, then, that we dismiss the
first possibility."
"Absolutely and for ever," Wolfenden said firmly. "I may add that Mr.
Sabin met me with a distinct reason for his refusal--he informed me his
niece was already betrothed."
"That may or may not be true," Harcutt said. "It does not affect the
question which we are considering at present. We must come to the
conclusion that these are people of considerable importance. That is
what I honestly believe. Now what do you suppose brings Mr. Sabin to
such an out of the way hole as this?"
"The golf, very likely," Wolfenden said. "He is a magnificent player."
Harcutt frowned.
"If I thought so," he said, "I should consider my journey here a
wasted one. But I can't. He is in the midst of delicate and important
negotiations--I know as much as that. He would not come down here at
such a time to play golf. It is an absurd idea!"
"I really don't see how else you can explain it," Wolfenden remarked;
"the greatest men have had their hobbies, you know. I need not remind
you of Nero's fiddle, or Drake's bowls."
"Quite unnecessary," Harcutt declared briskly. "Frankly, I don't believe
in Mr. Sabin's golf. There is somebody or something down here connected
with his schemes; the golf is a subterfuge. He plays well because he
does everything well."
"It will tax your ingenuity," Wolfenden said, "to connect his visit here
with anything in the shape of political schemes."
"My ingenuity accepts the task, at any rate," Harcutt said. "I am going
to find out all about it, and you must help me. It will be for both our
interests."
"I am afraid," Wolfenden answered, "that you are on a wild goose chase.
Still I am quite willing to help you if I can."
"Well, to begin then," Harcutt said; "you have been with him some time
to-day. Did he ask you any questions about the locality? Did he show any
curiosity in any of the residents?"
Wolfenden shook his head.
"Absolutely none," he answered. "The only conversation we had, in which
he showed any interest at all, was concerning my own people. By the bye,
that reminds me! I told him of an incident which occurred at Deringham
Hall last night, and he was certainly interested and curious. I chanced
to look at him at an unexpected moment, and his appearance astonished
me. I have never seen him look so keen about anything before."
"Will you tell me the incident at once, please?" Harcutt begged eagerly.
"It may contain the very clue for which I am hunting. Anything which
interests Mr. Sabin interests me."
"There is no secrecy about the matter," Wolfenden said. "I will tell you
all about it. You may perhaps have heard that my father has been in very
poor health ever since the great Solent disaster. It unfortunately
affected his brain to a certain extent, and he has been the victim of
delusions ever since. The most serious of these is, that he has been
commissioned by the Government to prepare, upon a gigantic scale, a plan
and description of our coast defences and navy. He has a secretary and
typist, and works ten hours a day; but from their report and my own
observations I am afraid the only result is an absolutely unintelligible
chaos. Still, of course, we have to take him seriously, and be thankful
that it is no worse. Now the incident which I told Mr. Sabin was this.
Last night a man called and introduced himself as Dr. Wilmot, the great
mind specialist. He represented that he had been staying in the
neighbourhood, and was on friendly terms with the local medico here, Dr.
Whitlett. My father's case had been mentioned between them, and he had
become much interested in it. He had a theory of his own for the
investigation of such cases which consisted, briefly of a careful
scrutiny of any work done by the patient. He brought a letter from Dr.
Whitlett and said that if we would procure him a sight of my father's
most recent manuscripts he would give us an opinion on the case. We
never had the slightest suspicion as to the truth of his statements, and
I took him with me to the Admiral's study. However, while we were there,
and he was rattling through the manuscripts, up comes Dr. Whitlett, the
local man, in hot haste. The letter was a forgery, and the man an
impostor. He escaped through the window, and got clean away. That is the
story just as I told it to Mr. Sabin. What do you make of it?"
Harcutt stood up, and laid his hand upon the other's shoulder.
"Well, I've got my clue, that's all," he declared; "the thing's as plain
as sunlight!"
Wolfenden rose also to his feet.
"I must be a fool," he said, "for I certainly can't see it."
Harcutt lowered his tone.
"Look here, Wolfenden," he said, "I have no doubt that you are right,
and that your father's work is of no value; but you may be very sure of
one thing--Mr. Sabin does not think so!"
"I don't see what Mr. Sabin has got to do with it," Wolfenden said.
Harcutt laughed.
"Well, I will tell you one thing," he said; "it is the contents of your
father's study which has brought Mr. Sabin to Deringham!"