It was nearly noon on the second day following his visit to London, when
Hall arrived home. He looked worn and haggard, and Mr. Stafford, who
happened to meet him, made some remark about his looking badly.
Yes, Mr. Hall supposed he did look pretty bad; he had been bothered most
infernally with business affairs for the past two days, and now, to make
matters worse, he was compelled to go to Dublin to close another
important transaction. Mr. Stafford would oblige him by kindly
explaining this to the ladies, as he had not a moment to spare, and must
pack up and leave within an hour.
An hour later Hall was at the railway station, looking considerably
improved by a shave and change of clothing.
On arriving at Liverpool he bought a ticket for Antwerp instead of
Dublin, and seemed chagrined to find there was no steamer until next
day. So much vent did he give to his annoyance that the attention of the
booking-clerk was specially attracted to him.
When Hall left the booking-office a quiet looking little man with
remarkably bright eyes entered and inquired Hall's name and destination.
It was given as Samuel Andrews, for Antwerp! The quiet little man, whom
the usually very independent clerks treated with great respect, thanked
them with a sweet smile, and then went to the nearest police station and
consulted with the inspector, after which he sent several telegrams to
London.
The steamer sailed at noon next day, and from early morning the little
man, who was by name Harry Blount, and by profession a detective,
sauntered up and down the pier. As the time for sailing drew nearer he
looked more anxious and doubtful, but no Hall appeared. Mr. Blount
rubbed his nose reflectively as he watched the vessel steaming away,
murmured something not very angelic regarding Mr. Hall, asseverated that
he believed himself closely related to several distinct kinds of idiots,
and then went back to consult once more with his friend the inspector.
* * * * *
Kate Stafford was in the garden the evening after Hall's departure, book
in hand, but not reading. She was thinking of the man who had saved her
life--a dangerous occupation for a young lady engaged to marry another
man. If she did give a thought to Hall it was of fear and dislike, for
in a vague, unreasoning way, she regarded him as the cause of her
father's, and in consequence, her own trouble.
Hearing the gate shut she looked up, and the blood rushed to her face as
she saw the man of whom she had been thinking coming toward her. Martin
was accompanied by the quiet little man with the sharp eyes, whom he
introduced as a gentleman desirous of seeing her father, and the three
entered the house, where Mr. Blount was introduced to Mr. Stafford.
Kate left them to change her dress, and it was curious to see what care
she took in selecting the prettiest.
While she was absent Martin informed Mr. Stafford that Blount was a
detective.
"He is anxious to meet Mr. Hall, and would like to know whatever you can
tell him about that gentleman's whereabouts. You will oblige me very
much by giving him whatever information you can."
Mrs. Stafford entered just at that moment, and was surprised and
delighted to meet Martin. Not wishing her to be annoyed in the matter,
Martin suggested that they had better leave Mr. Stafford and his friend
to talk business, and they accordingly adjourned to the drawing-room
where Kate soon joined them.
Mr. Stafford was, of course, surprised to learn that his visitor was a
detective, and more so that he should be looking for Hall. However, on
being informed that Mr. Blount was desirous of finding Mr. Hall for the
purpose of transacting an important piece of business, and that that
gentleman had disappeared from his London address, he gave the desired
information.
"Oh yes!" said Mr. Stafford, much relieved, "Mr. Hall left very
hurriedly yesterday on important business, to be transacted in Dublin."
"So--Mr. Hall has gone to Dublin, eh!" remarked Mr. Blount reflectively.
"Hum--well, I'm obliged to you for your kindness. You see, the people
who engaged me are very anxious to meet Mr. Hall again, and his
disappearance from town worried them. Allow me to thank you again, and
please say good-bye for me to Mr. Martin, as I must return at once."
He had his hand on the door-knob, when turning as though a new idea had
occurred to him, he continued:
"Would there be any objection to my looking about Mr. Hall's room? It is
possible I might find some cl--something which would enable me to put my
people in communication with him."
"No, I don't know that there is any objection," replied Mr. Stafford,
slowly, and led the way to Hall's rooms. In one corner of the
dressing-room stood a handsome desk, and after looking carelessly about
the rooms Mr. Blount examined this carefully.
Mr. Stafford stood looking on, hardly knowing whether or not to stop the
searcher. To his relief, however, Mr. Blount stopped after pulling out
one or two drawers--behind one of which he found a couple of empty
envelopes addressed to "Mr. Henry Hall, No. -- Harley St., London." These
had evidently been pushed out by other papers.
After glancing at the address and making a mental memorandum of it,
Blount said he would look no further.
"We shall have to wait until Mr. Hall comes back or writes," he said,
and took his departure.
Going out he met Martin and the two ladies about taking a walk.
"Well, what luck," asked Martin, who excused himself to the ladies and
hastened to meet him.
"I've found his address in the city and it is there we must try for
him."
"Then you don't believe in the trip to Dublin?"
"Not a bit. While so far there's not a morsel of evidence against him,
I'm morally certain he was on his way to Antwerp and thence to Amsterdam
with those diamonds, and when he found he was followed doubled back.
Come up to-morrow and meet me at Bow Street at noon. Good-bye."
Martin spent a very pleasant evening with the Staffords. Their nephew,
Fred Carden, furnished the topic of conversation for the evening, and it
naturally brought Martin himself somewhat into the conversation--and
never had a narrator a more attentive and enthusiastic audience.
Knowing nothing about the engagement between Kate and Hall, Martin, who
from the day he had carried her home had found himself thinking more and
more about her, now noted with pleasure her interest in everything he
said concerning himself. It was not so much lack of interest concerning
her cousin, as increased interest when he spoke of himself.