CHAPTER XXIII

THE PRETENDER

Mr. de Valentin led the way to a secluded corner of the smoke-room, and

laid a well-filled cigarette case upon the table. He beckoned to the

steward.

"You will take something?" he asked.

I ordered a whisky and soda and lit a cigarette. I had tasted nothing

like them since I had left England. Mr. de Valentin leaned across the

table towards me.

"Mr. Courage," he said, "I am going to ask you to accept a confidence

from me. You are an English gentleman, and although I have not the honor

to be myself an Englishman, my associations with your country have always

been very close, and I am well aware that a special significance attaches

itself to that term."

He paused and looked across at me somewhat anxiously. His speech was slow

but very distinct. He had little accent, but I had known quite well that

he was not an Englishman.

"I shall be very glad to hear anything that you have to say, Mr. de

Valentin," I answered.

He beat with his forefinger upon the table for a few moments absently.

I found myself studying him critically. His appearance was without doubt

distinguished. His sallow face, his pointed black beard, his high,

well-shaped nose, and almost brilliant eyes gave him the appearance of a

Spaniard; but the scrupulous exactness of his plain dinner clothes, his

well-manicured nails, and the ring upon his little finger, with its

wonderful green stone, were all suggestive of the French aristocrat. His

eyebrows were knit just now, as though with thought. Presently he looked

up from the table and continued:

"If you will permit me," he said, "I should like to introduce myself. My

name is not Mr. de Valentin. I am Victor Louis, Comte de Valentin,

Marquis de St. Auteuil, Duc de Bordera and Escault, Prince of Normandy."

I nodded gravely.

"And according to some," I remarked in a low tone, "King of France!"

He looked at me in keen surprise. He was evidently taken aback.

"You knew me?" he exclaimed.

"I felt very sure," I answered, "that you were the person whom you have

declared yourself to be. I have seen you twice in Paris, and you must

remember that this is an age of illustrated papers and journalistic

enterprise."

"You have not mentioned your recognition of me?" he asked quickly.

"Certainly not," I answered. "It was not my affair, and in your position

I can conceive that there may be many reasons for your desiring to travel

incognito."

He smiled a little wearily.

"Yet it would tax your ingenuity, I imagine," he continued, "to account

for my travelling in company with Mrs. Van Reinberg and her daughters."

"It is not my affair," I answered. "We Englishmen are supposed to have

learnt the secret of minding our own business."

"You Englishmen, certainly," he answered, "but not always your servants."

I looked at him a little puzzled. His words had seemed to possess some

special significance.

"You will not, I am sure, take offence at what I am about to say, Mr.

Courage," he continued; "but may I ask if you have confidence in the

manservant who is now travelling with you?"

It was a shock, but I fancy that I remained unmoved.

"You mean my man Peters?" I inquired. "I can guarantee his honesty

certainly."

"Can you also guarantee," Mr. de Valentin asked me, "that he is simply

what he professes to be--a valet, and not, for instance, a spy?"

"My dear sir," I protested, "we scarcely know the meaning of that word in

England. To say the least of it, such a suggestion would be wildly

improbable."

He sighed.

"In France," he said, "one looks for spies everywhere. I myself have

suffered painfully on more than one occasion from espionage. One grows

suspicious, and, in this instance, I have grounds for my suspicions."

"May I know what they are?" I asked.

"I was about to tell you," Mr. de Valentin answered. "I have with me in

my cabin certain papers, which are of great importance to me. I had

occasion to look them through last night, and although none were missing,

yet there was every indication of their having been tampered with. I

questioned my servant, who is a very faithful fellow, and I found that

the only person with whom he had made friends, and who had entered my

cabin, was your man, Peters I think you called him."

Mr. de Valentin was watching me closely, and the test was a severe one. I

was annoyed with Guest for having kept me in ignorance of what he had

done.

"I do not see how your private papers could have been of the slightest

use to Peters," I said; "but if you like to come down to my state-room

you can question him yourself."

"That," he answered, "I will leave to you. I take it then that you have

no suspicion that your servant is any other than he professes to be?"

"I am perfectly convinced that he is not," I declared.

Mr. de Valentin bowed.

"For the moment," he said, "we will quit the subject. I have another

matter, equally delicate, which I should like to discuss with you."

"I am quite at your service," I assured him.

"You have a saying in English," he continued, "which, if I remember it

rightly, says that necessity makes strange bedfellows. I myself am going

into a strange country upon a strange errand. I do not consider myself a

person of hyper-exclusive tastes, but I must confess that I do not find

myself in sympathy with the country-people and friends of Mrs. Van

Reinberg!"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Then why go amongst them?" I asked. "You are surely at liberty to do as

you choose!"

Mr. de Valentin took up his case and chose another cigarette.

"In this instance," he said coldly, "I am not entirely my own master.

There were powerful reasons why I should have taken this voyage to

America, and there are reasons why I should have done so with Mrs. Van

Reinberg. Which brings me, by the bye, to the second matter concerning

which I wished to speak to you."

I accepted another of Mr. de Valentin's excellent cigarettes, and

composed myself once more to listen.

"I am going to Lenox," he continued, "to meet there a few American

friends, with whom I have certain affairs of importance to discuss. You,

also, have been invited to Lenox. My request is that you defer your visit

there until after my departure."

I raised my eyebrows at this. It seemed to me that Mr. de Valentin was

going a little too far.

"May I inquire," I asked politely, "in what respect you find my presence

there undesirable? We are not bound, I presume, to come much into contact

with one another."

"You misunderstand me," Mr. de Valentin declared. "It is not a personal

matter at all. My visit to Lenox has been arranged solely to discuss a

certain matter with certain people. The presence of those who are not

interested in it would be an embarrassment to all of us. Further, to

recur to a matter which we have already spoken of, I cannot divest myself

of certain suspicions concerning your servant."

I considered my reply for a moment or two.

"As regards the latter," I said after a pause, "I can not take you

seriously. Besides, it is very unlikely that my servant would accompany

me to Lenox. If my presence there would be an embarrassment, I really do

not see why Mrs. Van Reinberg asked me."

"She did so thoughtlessly," Mr. de Valentin answered. "Her reasons were

tolerably clear to me, perhaps to you. With regard to them, I have

nothing to say, except that your visit could be paid just as well, say in

a fortnight after we land."

"Unfortunately," I answered, "that would not suit me. To be frank with

you, Miss Van Hoyt would have left."

"If I can arrange," Mr. de Valentin continued, with some eagerness, "that

she should not have left!"

I hesitated for a moment.

"Mr. de Valentin," I said, "I cannot conceive what cause for

embarrassment could arise from my presence in Lenox at the same time as

yourself. I do not ask you to tell me your secrets; but, in the absence

of some more valid reason for staying away, I shall certainly not break

my present engagement."

There was a silence between us for several moments. Mr. de Valentin was

fingering his cigarette case nervously.

"I am perhaps asking too much of a stranger, Mr. Courage," he said. "The

matter is of the deepest importance to me, or I would not have troubled

you. Supposing Miss Van Hoyt should herself fix the date of your visit,

and engage to be there?"

"That," I answered, "would, of course, be sufficient for me."

Mr. de Valentin rose from his seat.

"We will leave it like that then," he said. "I must apologize, Mr.

Courage, for having troubled you with my private affairs, and wish you

good-night!"

We separated a few moments later, and I went down to my state-room. I

found Guest busy writing in a pocket-book, seated on the edge of his

bunk. I told him of my conversation with Mr. de Valentin.

"I knew it was risky," he remarked when I had finished, "but it was an

opportunity which I dared not miss."

"You might have told me about it," I protested. "I was altogether

unprepared."

"The less you know," he answered, "the better. If you like, I will show

you tracings of some letters which I discovered in Mr. de Valentin's

portfolio. They were quite worth the journey to America, apart from

anything else. Personally, I should advise you not to see them until our

return to England."

"Very well," I answered. "Don't show them to me. But I shouldn't try it

again. Mr. de Valentin is on his guard."

Guest smiled a little wearily.

"I am not likely to make such a mistake as that," he answered. "Besides,

I have been through all his papers. His secrets are ours now, only we

must know what is decided upon at Lenox. Then we can return to England,

and the first part of our task will be done!"

The Great Secret · 第 23 / 40 章