AN EXPRESSION OF CONFIDENCE
I have no exact recollection of how long I spent in that little room.
After a while I closed the door safe, and reset the combination lock
with trembling fingers. Then I searched all round, but could find no
traces of any recent intruder. I undid the heavy shutters, and let in a
stream of sunshine. Outside, Ray and Lady Angela were strolling up and
down the terrace. I watched the latter with fascinated eyes. It was
from her that this strange warning had come to me, this warning which as
yet was only imperfectly explained. What did she know? Whom did she
suspect? Was it possible that she, a mere child, had even the
glimmering of a suspicion as to the truth? My eyes followed her every
movement. She walked with all the lightsome grace to which her young
limbs and breeding entitled her, her head elegantly poised on her
slender neck, her face mostly turned towards her companion, to whom she
was talking earnestly. Even at this distance I seemed to catch the
inspiring flash of her dark eyes, to follow the words which fell from
her lips so gravely. And as I watched a new idea came to me. I turned
slowly away and went in search of the Duke.
I found him sitting fully dressed in an anteroom leading from his
bedroom, with a great pile of letters before him, and an empty postbag.
He was leaning forward, his elbow upon the table, his head resting upon
his right hand. Engrossed as I was with my own terrible discovery, I
was yet powerfully impressed by his unfamiliar appearance. In the clear
light which came flooding in through the north window he seemed to me
older, and his face more deeply lined than any of my previous
impressions of him had suggested. His eyes were fixed upon the mass of
correspondence before him, most of which was as yet unopened, and his
expression was one of absolute aversion. At my entrance he looked up
inquiringly.
"What do you want, Ducaine?" he asked.
"I am sorry to have disturbed your Grace," I answered. "I have come to
place my resignation in your hands."
His face was expressive enough in its frowning contempt, but he said
nothing for a moment, during which his eyes met mine mercilessly.
"So you find the work too hard, eh?" he asked.
"The work is just what I should have chosen, your Grace," I answered.
"I like hard work, and I expected it. The trouble is that I have
succeeded no better than Lord Ronald."
My words were evidently a shock to him. He half opened his lips, but
closed them again. I saw the hand which he raised to his forehead
shake.
"What do you mean, Ducaine? Speak out, man."
"The safe in the study has been opened during the night," I said. "Our
map of the secret fortifications on the Surrey downs and plans for a
camp at Guilford have been examined."
"How do you know this?"
"I tied the red tape round them in a peculiar way. It has been undone
and retied. The papers have been put back in a different order."
The Duke was without doubt agitated. He rose from his chair and paced
the room restlessly.
"You are sure of what you say, Ducaine?" he demanded, turning, and
facing me suddenly.
"Absolutely sure, your Grace," I answered.
He turned away from me.
"In my own house, under my own roof," I heard him mutter. "Good God!"
I had scarcely believed him capable of so much feeling. When he resumed
his seat and former attitude I could see that his face was almost gray.
"This is terrible news," he said. "I am not at all sure, though, Mr.
Ducaine, that any blame can attach itself to you."
"Your Grace," I answered, "there were three men only who knew the secret
of that combination. One is yourself, another Colonel Ray, the third
myself. I set the lock last night. I opened it this morning. I ask
you, in the name of common sense, upon whom the blame is likely to fall?
If I remain this will happen again. I cannot escape suspicion. It is
not reasonable."
"The word was a common one," the Duke said half to himself. "Some one
may have guessed it."
"Your Grace," I said, "is it likely that any one would admit the
possibility of such a thing?"
"It may have been overheard."
"It has never been spoken," I reminded him. "It was written down,
glanced at by all of us, and destroyed."
The Duke nodded.
"You are right," he admitted. "The inference is positive enough. The
safe has been opened between the hours of ten at night and seven o'clock
this morning by--"
"By either myself, Colonel Ray, or your Grace," I said.
"I am not sure that I am prepared to admit that," the Duke objected
quietly.
"It is inevitable!" I declared.
"Only the very young use that word," the Duke said drily.
"I spoke only of what others must say," I answered.
"It is a _cul de sac_, I admit," the Duke said. "Nevertheless, Mr.
Ducaine, I am not prepared without consideration to accept your
resignation. I cannot see that our position would be improved in any
way, and in my own mind I may add that I hold you absolved from
suspicion."
I held myself a little more upright. The Duke spoke without enthusiasm,
but with conviction.
"Your Grace is very kind," I answered gratefully, "but there are the
others. They know nothing of me. It is inevitable that I should become
an object of suspicion to them."
The Duke looked thoughtfully for several moments at the table before
him. Then he looked up at me.
"Ducaine," he said, "I will tell you what I propose. You have done your
duty in reporting this thing to me. Your duty ends there--mine begins.
The responsibility, therefore, for our future course of action remains
with me. You, I presume, are prepared to admit this."
"Certainly, your Grace," I answered.
"I see no useful purpose to be gained," the Duke continued, "in
spreading this thing about. I believe that we shall do better by
keeping our own counsel. You and I can work secretly in the matter. I
may have some suggestions to make when I have considered it more fully;
but for the present I propose that we treat the matter as a
hallucination of yours. We shall hear in due course if this stolen
information goes across the water. If it does--well, we shall know how
to act."
"You mean this?" I asked breathlessly. "Forgive me, your Grace, but it
means so much to me. You believe that we are justified?"
"Why not?" the Duke asked coldly. "It is I who am your employer. It is
I who am responsible to the country for these things. You are
responsible only to me. I choose that you remain. I choose that you
speak of this matter only when I bid you speak."
To me it was relief immeasurable. The Duke's manner was precise, even
cold. Yet I felt that he believed in me. I scarcely doubted but that
he had suspicions of his own. I, at any rate, was not involved in them.
I could have wrung him by the hand but for the inappropriateness of such
a proceeding. So far as he was concerned I could see that the matter
was already done with. His attention was beginning to wander to the
mass of letters before him.
"Would you allow me to help your Grace with your correspondence?" I
suggested. "I have no work at present."
The Duke shook his head impatiently.
"I thank you," he said. "My man of business will be here this morning,
and he will attend to them. I will not detain you, Mr. Ducaine."
I turned to leave the room, but found myself face to face with a young
man in the act of entering it.
"Blenavon!" the Duke exclaimed.
"How are you, sir?" the newcomer answered. "Sorry I didn't arrive in
time to see you last night. We motored from King's Lynn, and the whole
of this respectable household was in bed."
I knew at once who he was. The Duke looked towards me.
"Ducaine," he said, "this is my son, Lord Blenavon."
Lord Blenavon's smile was evidently meant to be friendly, but his
expression belied it. He was slightly taller than his father, and his
cast of features was altogether different. His cheeks were pale, almost
sunken, his eyes were too close together, and they had the dimness of
the _roue_ or the habitual dyspeptic. His lips were too full, his chin
too receding, and he was almost bald.
"How are you, Mr. Ducaine?" he said. "Awful hour to be out of bed,
isn't it? and all for the slaying of a few fat and innocent birds. Let
me see, wasn't I at Magdalen with you?"
"I came up in your last year," I reminded him.
"Ah, yes, I remember," he drawled. "Terrible close worker you were,
too. Are you breakfasting down stairs, sir?"
"I think that I had better," the Duke said. "I suppose you brought some
men with you?"
"Half a dozen," Lord Blenavon answered, "including his Royal Highness."
The Duke thrust all his letters into his drawer, and locked them up with
a little exclamation of relief.
"I will come down with you," he said. "Mr. Ducaine, you will join us."
I would have excused myself, for indeed I was weary, and the thought of
a bath and rest at home was more attractive. But the Duke had a way of
expressing his wishes in a manner which it was scarcely possible to
mistake, and I gathered that he desired me to accept his invitation. We
all descended the stairs together.