A RAY OF LIGHT.
It was no difficult matter to find Mrs. Delahay, who, when the late
startling developments were laid before her, made no demur in giving
her sister's address. Maria Delahay was looking just as pale and
haggard as usual. It seemed impossible to rouse her from the state of
apathy into which she had fallen. When the two friends were standing
on the steps of the hotel they ran against Inspector Dallas.
"Any fresh news?" Walter asked.
"Well, no," Dallas admitted. "I am simply waiting on events at
present. If you could only get Mrs. Delahay to be more candid with me
it might save her a deal of unpleasantness in the long run."
"Do you mean that she is in danger?" Venables asked.
"I think you can see that for yourself, sir," Dallas replied.
"Naturally, I am hesitating as long as possible----"
"Then hesitate a little longer," Walter said. "Quite by accident Lord
Ravenspur has stumbled upon a clue which I think will astonish you
when you come to know his story. We are going off now to a place
called Cannon Green. We shall probably be back by the last train
tonight, and I want you to meet us at Waterloo Station. I think you
will be well rewarded for your trouble."
Dallas promised, and, like the wise man he was, asked no questions.
The two companions proceeded in a cab to Isleworth Road, where they
asked to see the mistress of the house. The maid who answered the door
was somewhat reticent, but she admitted that her mistress was at home,
whereupon Walter and his companion entered without further ceremony.
Perhaps their manner impressed the maid, for she came back a moment
later saying that her mistress would see the visitors. The Countess
entered the drawing-room and glanced with cold displeasure at the
intruders.
"What can you possibly want with me?" she demanded.
"Perhaps I had better explain," Walter began. "My name is Lance, and I
am a nephew of Lord Ravenspur. Lord Ravenspur has a ward who is called
Miss Vera Rayne. In other words, I understand that Miss Rayne is
really your daughter."
The Countess's cold face flushed slightly.
"I am not prepared to contradict you," she said.
"My dear madam," Walter said, "this is no time for diplomacy. Rightly
or wrongly, my uncle came to Italy eighteen years ago and kidnapped
your daughter. You see, I am quite candid, and I hope you will be good
enough to be as candid in your replies. My uncle will himself explain
why he took this bold step, but I understand that your late husband
did not consider you a desirable parent for a child, and he made my
uncle promise to remove the child from your influence. Into the
morality of that question I am not disposed to go. For nearly eighteen
years nothing happened, and my uncle began to regard Vera quite as his
own child. Then the truth came out, and some emissary of yours came to
England, prepared to go to any length to regain possession of your
daughter. I need not say I am alluding to the man called Silva, also
known to many people as Valdo, the flying man. This servant of yours
made no fewer than three attacks on my uncle's life, none of which,
fortunately, was successful. And then, I understand, you came on the
scene. I believe you were instrumental in luring your daughter from
Lady Kingmar's the night before last, and getting her imprisoned at a
place called Cannon Green. One moment, please. I would not deny it, if
I were you----"
"I am not going to deny it," the Countess said in a hard, dry voice.
"There is no occasion to."
"Ah, well, that being so, we shall get on all the better. Directly we
discovered what had happened we set off in pursuit, fortunately aided
by a bloodhound of my uncle's, who had followed us to Lady Ringmar's
from Park Lane. To make a long story short, we broke into the house,
and Miss Rayne is once more under the protection of Lord Ravenspur.
But your man, Silva, does not lack resource, and he managed to drug me
and drag me out into the garden. Unfortunately for him, the dog was
prowling about, and, knowing me and recognising my peril, he made a
furious attack upon Silva, with the result that your friend lies in a
critical condition and is not expected to live. After what I have told
you, I think you will see the necessity of coming down to Cannon Green
with us without delay."
During this recital the Countess made no sign. She listened with a
calmness and unconcern which moved Walter to anger. After all,
whatever Silva's faults might have been, his devotion to his mistress
left nothing to be desired. The Countess sat thoughtfully for a few
moments before she replied.
"I think I see what you mean," she said presently. "You want as far as
possible to avoid a scandal?"
"Well, naturally," Walter said warmly. "In your daughter's interests
it is your duty to assist us. If you fall in line with this idea, the
general public will be none the wiser. And when you come to know what
manner of man it is that your servant has been attempting to murder in
absolutely cold blood----"
"Oh, I know what manner of man he is," the Countess cried. "He is the
same manner of man as my husband. And a more cold-blooded scoundrel
never drew the breath of life. But make no mistake about one thing--I
was a party to no violence. All I wanted was to have my child back
again, and I hoped that when once this was done, I should be able to
induce Silva to forego the vengeance which to him was a part of his
religion. You will understand presently why I have appeared to act so
strangely. Not but what Lord Ravenspur deserved whatever fate he got
at the hands of Silva. Still, we are wasting time in talking like
this. I am ready to come with you to Cannon Green at once, more
especially because you are right in saying that it is my duty to try
and avoid anything in the shape of a scandal. If you will give me five
minutes and call a cab, I am absolutely at your service."
It was a little before five when this strangely assorted group reached
Cannon Green. The doctor was just coming away, and Walter asked
eagerly after the patient.
"Oh, practically he is no better," the medical man explained. "I mean,
he isn't going to get well. Just for the present he is buoyed up with
a strong stimulant, and is in full possession of his faculties. He
seems to want something, but I can't make out what it is. We gave him
a sheet of paper and a pencil just now, and he scribbled a word or
two, which, being Italian, we could not make out."
"I think I know what he wants," Walter said. "May I suggest, Countess,
that you go up to the poor man's bedroom at once?"
Silva's face lighted up as his eyes fell upon his mistress. He pointed
to the bandages about his throat. His lips moved, but no sound came
from them.
"I know exactly what has happened," the Countess said. "No, pray don't
distress yourself. You must not try your strength. You will never get
better if you exert yourself."
A melancholy smile came over Silva's face. The expression of his eyes
told as plainly as possible that he had no delusions on the score of
his recovery. Then he went through the motion of writing with an
imaginary pencil upon an invisible paper. Countess Flavio turned
impulsively to the nurse.
"Is it quite safe?" she asked. "I don't think the poor fellow will
rest till he makes me understand; and you see, being Italian myself,
anything he may write----"
"I think it will be a very good thing," the nurse replied.
She came to the bedside with a sheet of paper and a pencil, which she
placed in Silva's hand. His unsteady fingers began to trace certain
signs on the paper. The marks were feeble and straggling enough, but a
little care on the part of the Countess enabled her to make out what
the characters represented.
"It is quite plain to me now," she said, looking down into Silva's
eager face. "You want me to find the diary, do you not? You mean the
Count's diary, which was not produced at the trial?"
Silva nodded feebly. Evidently he was fast lapsing into
unconsciousness again. But with an effort he managed to concentrate
his mind upon what the Countess was saying.
"The diary is locked up in a little desk in your bedroom," the
Countess went on. "I am to find it and give it to Mr. Walter Lance to
read. My good Silva, this is most extraordinary! What possible
interest could Mr. Lance take in that diary? Are you quite sure that I
have not made a mistake?"
Again Silva opened his eyes and nodded almost vigorously.
"Very well," the Countess said reluctantly. "I see you are in earnest.
I will get the diary at once, and Mr. Lance shall have it without
delay. If there is anything more----"
It was idle to speak to Silva any longer. Just for an instant a smile
flickered over his face, and then he was completely lost to the world
and his surroundings. Puzzled and mystified, the Countess crept from
the room. Silva had made this request on what was practically his
dying bed, and he must be obeyed. What good it would do at this moment
the Countess was quite at a loss to see. She found the little desk
presently and broke it open. Inside lay a small parchment-covered
volume with gilt lettering on the outside. With this in her hand the
Countess Flavio walked out on to the lawn where Walter was strolling
up and down and accosted him.
"This is for you," she said. "I don't know why, but Silva told me to
deliver it into your hands, and perhaps when you have read it you will
have a different opinion of Vera's mother."