AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR
I sat up in bed, heavy, unrefreshed, and with a splitting headache. The
clock on the mantelpiece was striking three o'clock; from below I could
hear the clatter of vehicles in the courtyard, and the distant roar of
traffic from the streets beyond. Slowly I realized that it was three
o'clock in the afternoon; the events of the night before re-formed
themselves in my mind. I rang the bell for the valet and sprang out of
bed.
"Why didn't you call me this morning?" I asked angrily.
"You gave no orders, sir," the man answered. "I have been in the room
once or twice, but you were sleeping so soundly that I didn't like to
disturb you."
I began tearing on my clothes.
"What sort of weather has it been?" I asked.
"Pouring rain since seven o'clock, sir!" the man answered. "No chance of
play at Lord's, sir!"
"Thank Heaven!" I exclaimed fervently. "Order me a cup of tea, will you,
and--stop a minute--take this note round to Miss Van Hoyt--367."
He returned in a few minutes with the tea; but he brought my note back
again.
"Miss Van Hoyt left the hotel this morning, sir," he announced.
I turned round quickly.
"She is coming back, of course!" I exclaimed.
"The chambermaid thought not, sir," the man declared. "She has given up
her room, at any rate. They would know for certain down in the office."
I finished the rest of my toilet in a hurry, and went straight to the
reception bureau. I fancied that the clerk to whom I addressed myself
eyed me queerly.
"Can you tell me if Miss Van Hoyt has left the hotel?" I asked.
"She left this morning, sir," he replied.
"Is there any message for me--Mr. Courage?" I asked.
He disappeared for a moment, but I fancied that his search was only
perfunctory.
"Nothing at all for you, sir," he announced.
I concealed my surprise as well as I could.
"Will you send my card up and ascertain if I can see Mr. Leslie Guest?" I
asked. "He is staying somewhere in the south wing."
"Mr. Leslie Guest left just before one o'clock, sir," the clerk answered.
"Left the hotel!" I repeated. "Why! He was in bed yesterday, and scarcely
able to move."
The clerk shrugged his shoulders. He had the air of being a little tired
of me.
"He was probably better to-day," he answered. "At any rate, he was well
enough to travel."
"Is Mr. James Stanley, of Liverpool, in?" I asked.
"Mr. Stanley paid his bill and went away at eight o'clock this morning,"
the man answered, going back to his ledger.
"I must see the manager at once," I declared firmly.
The clerk called a page-boy.
"Take this gentleman's name down to Mr. Blumentein," he ordered shortly.
I waited for several minutes. Then the boy returned, and beckoned me to
follow him.
"Mr. Blumentein will see you in his office, sir," he announced. "Will you
come this way?"
It was a very different Mr. Blumentein who looked up now, as I was shown
into his private room. He regarded me with a frown, and his manner was
indubitably hostile.
"You wish to speak to me, sir?" he asked curtly.
"I do!" I answered. "There is a good deal going on in your hotel which I
do not understand; and I may as well tell you that I am determined to get
to the bottom of it. I was drugged in the public smoking-room last night
by a man who called himself Stanley, acting in collusion with one of the
waiters."
Mr. Blumentein looked at me superciliously.
"Mr. Courage," he said, "the events of last night preclude my taking you
seriously any more; but I should like you to understand that you have
proved yourself an extremely troublesome guest here."
"What do you mean by the events of last night?" I asked.
"You were drunk in the smoking-room," Mr. Blumentein replied curtly, "and
had to be assisted to your room. Don't trouble to deny it. There are a
dozen witnesses, if necessary. I shall require you to leave the hotel
within the next few hours."
"You know very well that I was nothing of the sort," I answered hotly.
"It is easily proved," Mr. Blumentein asserted. "Please understand that I
am not prepared to discuss the matter with you."
"Very well," I answered. "Let it go at that. Whilst I was safely put out
of the way, several of your guests seem to have left. Will you give me
Miss Van Hoyt's address?"
"I will not," the manager answered.
"Mr. Leslie Guest's then?"
"I do not know it," he declared.
I turned towards the door.
"Very well, Mr. Blumentein," I said; "but if you imagine that this matter
is going to rest where it is, you are very much mistaken. I am going
straight to a private detective's, who is also a friend of mine!"
"Then for Heaven's sake go to him!" Mr. Blumentein declared irritably.
"We have nothing to conceal here! All that we desire is to be left alone
by guests whose conduct about the place is discreditable. Good afternoon,
Mr. Courage!"
I returned to my room and had my bag packed. Then I sat down to think. I
reviewed the course of events carefully since the night before last. Try
how I could, I found it absolutely impossible to arrive at any clear
conclusion with regard to them. The whole thing was a phantasmagoria. The
one person in whom I had believed, and at whose bidding I was willing to
take a hand in this mysterious game, had disappeared without a word of
explanation or farewell. There could be only one reasonable course of
action for me to pursue, and that was to shrug my shoulders and go my
way. I had my own life to live, and although its limitations might be a
little obvious, it was yet a reasonable and sane sort of life. Of Adèle I
refused resolutely to think. I knew very well that I should not be able
to forget her. On the other hand, I was convinced now that she was simply
making use of me. I would go back home and forget these two days. I would
reckon them as belonging to some one else's life, not mine.
I paid my bill, left the hotel, and caught the five o'clock train from
St. Pancras to Medchester. From there I had a ten-mile drive, and it
was almost dusk when we turned off the main road into the private
approach to Saxby Hall--my old home. Every yard of the land around, half
meadow-land, half park, I knew almost by heart; every corner and chimney
of the long irregular house was familiar to me. It all looked very
peaceful as we drove up to the front; the blue smoke from the chimneys
going straight up in a long, thin line; not a rustle of breeze or
movement anywhere. Perkins, my butler, came out to the steps to meet me,
and successfully concealed his surprise at my return two days before I
was expected.
"Any news, Perkins?" I inquired, as he helped me off with my coat.
"Nothing in any way special, sir," Perkins replied. "The cricket team
from Romney Court were over here yesterday, sir, for the day."
"Gave 'em a licking, I hope?" I remarked.
"We won by thirty runs, sir," Perkins informed me. "Johnson was bowling
remarkably well, sir. He took seven wickets for fifteen!"
I nodded, and was passing on to my study. Perkins followed me.
"We got your first telegram early this morning, sir!" he remarked.
I stopped short.
"What telegram?" I asked.
"The one telling us to prepare for the gentleman, sir," Perkins
explained. "We had to guess at the train; but we sent the brougham in for
the twelve o'clock, and Johnson waited. We've given him the south room,
sir, and I think that he's quite comfortable."
"What the devil are you talking about?" I asked.
It was Perkins' turn to stare, which he did for a moment blankly.
"The gentleman whose arrival you wired about, sir," he answered. "Mr.
Guest, I believe his name is."
"Mr. Guest is here now?" I asked.
"Certainly, sir! In the south room, sir! He asked to be told directly you
arrived, sir!"
I turned abruptly towards the staircase. I said not another word to
Perkins, but made my way to the room which he had spoken of. I knocked at
the door, and it was Guest's voice which bade me enter. It was Guest
himself, who in a grey travelling suit, which made him look smaller and
frailer than ever, lay stretched upon the sofa over by the great south
windows!