had that morning purchased. Unfastening it, he withdrew the circlet and
clasped it upon her wrist. So great was her surprise and delight that
for some moments she was at a loss how to express her thanks. When she
recovered her presence of mind and her speech, she attempted to do so,
but Carne stopped her.
"You must not thank me too much," he said, "or I shall begin to think I
have done a meritorious action. I trust Lord Kilbenham is well?"
"He was very well when I last saw him," answered the girl after a
momentary pause, which Carne noticed, "but he is so busy just now that
we see very little of each other. Good-bye."
All the way home Simon Carne sat wrapped in a brown study. On reaching
his residence he went straight to his study, and to his writing-desk,
where he engaged himself for some minutes jotting down certain memoranda
on a sheet of note-paper. When he had finished he rang the bell and
ordered that Belton, his valet, should be sent to him.
"Belton," he said, when the person he wanted had arrived in answer to
the summons, "on Thursday next I shall go down to Market Stopford to
attend the wedding of the Marquis of Kilbenham with Miss Greenthorpe.
You will, of course, accompany me. In the meantime" (here he handed him
the sheet of paper upon which he had been writing) "I want you to attend
to these few details. Some of these articles, I'm afraid, you will find
rather difficult to obtain, but at any cost I must have them to take
down to the country with me."
Belton took the paper and left the room with it, and for the time being
Carne dismissed the matter from his mind. The sun was in the act of
setting on the day immediately preceding the wedding when Simon Carne
and his faithful valet reached the wayside station of Market Stopford.
As the train came to a standstill, a footman wearing the Greenthorpe
livery opened the door of the reserved carriage and informed his
master's guest that a brougham was waiting outside the station to convey
him to his destination. Belton was to follow with the luggage in the
servants' omnibus.
On arrival at Greenthorpe Park, Simon Carne was received by his host and
hostess in the hall, the rear-most portion of which was furnished as a
smoking-room. Judging from the number of guests passing, repassing, and
lolling about in the easy chairs, most of the company invited had
already arrived. When he had greeted those with whom he was familiar,
and had taken a cup of tea from the hands of the bride-elect, who was
dispensing it at a small table near the great oak fireplace, he set
himself to be agreeable to those about him for the space of a quarter of
an hour, after which he was escorted to his bedroom, a pretty room
situated in the main portion of the building at the head of the grand
staircase. He found Belton awaiting him there. His luggage had been
unpacked, and a glance at his watch told him that it would be necessary
for him to prepare for dinner.
"Well, Belton," he said, as he threw himself into a chair beside the
window that looked out over the rose garden, "here we are, and the next
question is, how are we going to succeed?"
"I have never known you to fail yet, sir," replied the deferential
valet, "and I don't suppose you'll do so on this occasion."
"You flatter me, Belton, but I will not be so falsely modest as to say
that your praise is altogether undeserved. This, however, is a case of
more than usual delicacy and danger, and it will be necessary for us to
play our cards with considerable care. When I have examined this house
I shall elaborate my plans more fully. We have none too much time, for
the attempt must be made to-morrow night. You have brought down with
you the things I mentioned on that list, I suppose?"
"They are in these chests, sir," said Belton. "They make a precious
heavy load, and once or twice I was fearful lest they might arouse
suspicion."
"You need have no fear, my good Belton," said Carne. "I have a very
plausible excuse to account for their presence here. Everyone by this
time knows that I am a great student, and also that I never travel
without at least two cases of books. It is looked upon as a harmless
fad. Here is my key. Open the box standing nearest to you."
Belton did as he was commanded, when it was seen that it was filled to
its utmost holding capacity with books.
"No one would think," said Carne, with a smile at the astonishment
depicted on the other's face, "that there are only two layers of volumes
there, would they? If you lift out the tray upon which they rest, you
will discover that the balance of the box is now occupied by the things
you placed in it. Unknown to you, I had the trays fitted after you had
packed the others. There is nothing like being prepared for all
emergencies. Now pay attention to what I am about to say to you. I
have learned that the wedding presents, including the fifty thousand
sovereigns presented by Mr. Greenthorpe to his daughter in that absurd
casket, of which I spoke to you, will be on view to-morrow afternoon in
the billiard-room; to-night, and to-morrow before the ball commences,
they will be placed in the safe. One of Mr. Greenthorpe's most trusted
servants will keep watch over them in the room, while a constable will
be on duty in the lobby outside. Bars have been placed on all windows,
and, as I understand, the village police will patrol the building at
intervals during the night. The problem of how we are to get hold of
them would seem rather a hard nut to crack, would it not?"
"I must confess I don't see how you are going to do it at all, sir,"
said Belton.
"Well, we'll see. I have a plan in my head now, but before I can adopt
it I must make a few inquiries. I believe there is a staircase leading
from the end of this corridor down to the lobby outside the billiard and
smoking-rooms. If this is so, we shall have to make use of it. It must
be your business to discover at what time the custodians of the treasure
have their last meal. When you have found that out let me know. Now
you had better get me ready for dinner as soon as possible."
When Carne retired to rest that evening, his inimitable valet was in a
position to report that the sentries were already installed, and that
their supper had been taken to them, by Mr. Greenthorpe's orders, at ten
o'clock precisely, by one of the under-footmen, who had been instructed
to look after them.
"Very good," said Carne; "I think I see my way now. I'll sleep on my
scheme and let you know what decision I have come to in the morning. If
we pull this little business off successfully, there will be ten
thousand pounds for you to pay into your credit, my friend."
Belton bowed and thanked his master without a sign of emotion upon his
face. After which Simon Carne went to bed.
When he was called next morning, he discovered a perfect summer day.
Brilliant sunshine streamed in at the windows, and the songs of the
birds came from the trees outside.
"An excellent augury," he said to himself as he jumped out of bed and
donned the heavy dressing-gown his valet held open for him. "Miss
Greenthorpe, my compliments to you. My lord marquis is not the only man
upon whom you are conferring happiness to-day."
His good humor did not leave him, for when he descended to the
breakfast-room an hour later his face was radiant with smiles, and every
one admitted that it would be impossible to meet a more charming
companion.
During the morning he was occupied in the library, writing letters.
At one he lunched with his fellow-guests, none of the family being
present, and at half-past went off to dress for the wedding ceremony.
This important business completed, a move was made for the church; and
in something less than a quarter of an hour the nuptial knot was tied,
and Miss Sophie Greenthorpe, only daughter of Matthew Greenthorpe,
erstwhile grocer and provision merchant of Little Bexter Street,
Tottenham Court Road, left the building, on her husband's arm,
Marchioness of Kilbenham and future Duchess of Rugby.
Simon Carne and his fellow-guests followed in her wake down the aisle,
and, having entered their carriages, returned to the Park.
The ball that evening was an acknowledged success, but, though he was an
excellent dancer, and had his choice of the prettiest women in the room,
Carne was evidently ill at ease. The number of times he stealthily
examined his watch said this as plainly as any words. As a matter of
fact, the last guest had scarcely arrived before he left the ball-room,
and passed down the lobby towards the back stair-case, stopping _en
route_ to glance at the billiard-room door.
As he expected, it was closed, and a stalwart provincial policeman stood
on guard before it.
He made a jocular reference about the treasure the constable was
guarding, and, with a laugh at himself for forgetting the way to his
bedroom, retraced his steps to the stairs, up which he passed to his own
apartment. Belton was awaiting him there.
"It is ten minutes to ten, Belton," he said abruptly. "It must be now or
never. Go down to the kitchen, and hang about there until the tray upon
which the suppers of the guard are placed is prepared. When the footman
starts with it for the Billiard-room, accompany him, and as he opens the
green baize door leading into the house, manage by hook or crook, to
hold him in conversation. Say something, and interrupt yourself by a
severe fit of coughing. That will give me my cue. If anything should
happen to me as I come downstairs, be sure that the man puts his tray
down on the slab at the foot of the stairs and renders me assistance. I
will manage the rest. Now be off."
Belton bowed respectfully and left the room. As he did so, Carne
crossed to the dressing-table, and unlocked a small case standing upon
it. From this he took a tiny silver-stoppered scent bottle, containing,
perhaps, half an ounce of white powder. This he slipped into his
waistcoat pocket, and then made for the door.
On the top of the back staircase he paused for a few moments to listen.
He heard the spring of the green baize door in the passage below creak
as it was pushed open. Next moment he distinguished Belton's voice.
"It's true as I'm standing here," he was saying. "As I went up the
stairs with the governor's hot water there she was coming along the
passage. I stood back to let her pass, and as I did she----" (Here the
narrative was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing.) On hearing
this Carne descended the stairs, and, when he had got half-way down, saw
the footman and his valet coming along the passage below. At the same
instant he must have caught his foot in the stair carpet, for he tripped
and fell headlong to the bottom.
"Heavens live!" cried Belton. "I do believe that's my governor, and
he's killed." At the same time he ran forward to the injured man's
assistance.
Carne lay at the foot of the stairs just as he had fallen, his head
thrown back, his eyes shut, and his body curled up and motionless.
Belton turned to the footman, who still stood holding the tray where he
had stopped on seeing the accident, and said: "Put down those things and
go and find Mr. Greenthorpe as quickly as you can. Tell him Mr. Carne
has fallen downstairs, and I'm afraid is seriously injured."
The footman immediately disappeared. His back was scarcely turned,
however, before Carne was on his feet.
"Excellent, my dear Belton," he whispered; and, as he spoke, he slipped
his fingers into his waistcoat pocket. "Hand me up that tray, but be
quiet, or the policeman round the corner will hear you."
Belton did as he was ordered, and Carne thereupon sprinkled upon the
suppers provided for the two men some of the white powder from the
bottle he had taken from his dressing-case. This done, he resumed his
place at the foot of the stairs, while Belton, kneeling over him and
supporting his head, waited for assistance. Very few minutes elapsed
before Mr. Greenthorpe, with his scared face, appeared upon the scene.
At his direction Belton and the footman carried the unconscious
gentleman to his bedroom, and placed him upon his bed. Restoratives
were administered and in something under ten minutes the injured man
once more opened his eyes.
"What is the matter?" he asked feebly. "What has happened?"
"You have met with a slight accident, my dear sir," said the old
gentleman, "but you are better now. You fell downstairs."
As if he scarcely comprehended what was said, Carne feebly repeated the
last sentence after his host, and then closed his eyes again. When he
opened them once more, it was to beg Mr. Greenthorpe to leave him and
return to his guests downstairs. After a small amount of pressing, the
latter consented to do so, and retired, taking the footman with him.
The first use Carne made of their departure was to turn to Belton.
"The powder will take effect in five hours," he said. "See that you
have all the things prepared."
"They are quite ready," replied Belton. "I arranged them this evening."
"Very good," said Carne. "Now, I am going to sleep in real earnest."
So saying, he closed his eyes, and resigned himself to slumber as
composedly as if nothing out of the common had occurred. The clock on
the stables had struck three when he woke again. Belton was still
sleeping peacefully, and it was not until he had been repeatedly shaken
that he became conscious that it was time to get up.
"Wake up," said Carne; "it is three o'clock, and time for us to be about
our business. Unlock that box, and get out the things."
Belton did as he was ordered, placing the packets as he took them from
the case in small Gladstone bags. Having done this, he went to one of
his master's trunks, and took from it two suits of clothes, a pair of
wigs, two excellently contrived false beards, and a couple of soft felt
hats. These he placed upon the bed. Ten minutes later he had assisted
his master to change into one of the suits, and when this was done
waited for further instructions.
"Before you dress, take a tumbler from that table, and go downstairs.
If you should meet anyone, say that you are going to the butler's pantry
in search of filtered water, as you have used all the drinking water in
this room. The ball should be over by this time, and the guests in bed
half-an-hour ago. Ascertain if this is the case, and as you return
glance at the policeman on duty outside the billiard-room door. Let me
know his condition."
"Very good, sir," said Belton; and, taking a tumbler from the table in
question, he left the room. In less than five minutes he had returned
to report that, with the exception of the corridor outside the
billiard-room, the house was in darkness.
"And how is the guardian of the door?" Carne inquired.
"Fast asleep," said Belton, "and snoring like a pig, sir."
"That is right," said Carne. "The man inside should be the same, or
that powder has failed me for the first time in my experience. We'll
give them half-an-hour longer, however, and then get to work. You had
better dress yourself."
While Belton was making himself up to resemble his master, Carne sat in
an easy chair by his dressing-table, reading Ruskin's _Stones of
Venice_. It was one of the most important of his many peculiarities
that he could withdraw his thoughts from any subject, however much it
might hitherto have engrossed him, and fasten them upon another, without
once allowing them to wander back to their original channel. As the
stable clock chimed the half-hour, he put the book aside, and sprang to
his feet.
"If you're ready, Belton," he said, "switch off the electric light and
open that door."
When this had been done he bade his valet wait in the bedroom while he
crept down the stairs on tip-toe. On turning into the billiard-room
lobby, he discovered the rural policeman propped up in the corner fast
asleep. His heavy breathing echoed down the corridors, and one moment's
inspection showed Carne that from him he had nothing to fear. Unlocking
the door with a key which he took from his pocket, he entered the room,
to find the gardener, like the policeman, fast asleep in an armchair by
the window. He crossed to him, and, after a careful examination of his
breathing, lifted one of his eyelids.
"Excellent," he said. "Nothing could be better. Now, when Belton comes,
we shall be ready for business."
So saying he left the room again, and went softly up the stairs to find
his valet. The latter was awaiting him, and, before a witness, had
there been one, could have counted twenty, they were standing in the
billiard-room together. It was a large apartment, luxuriously
furnished, with a bow window at one end and an alcove, surrounded with
seats, at the other. In this alcove, cleverly hidden by the wainscoting,
as Mr. Greenthorpe had once been at some pains to point out to Simon
Carne, there existed a large iron safe of the latest burglar-proof
pattern.
The secret was an ingenious one, and would have baffled any ordinary
craftsman. Carne, however, as has already been explained, was far from
being a commonplace member of his profession. Turning to Belton, he
said, "Give me the tools." These being forthcoming, in something less
than ten minutes he had picked the lock and was master of the safe's
contents.
When these, including the fifty thousand sovereigns, had been safely
carried upstairs and stowed away in the portmanteaux and chests, and the
safe had been filled with the spurious jewelry he had brought with him
for that purpose, he signed to Belton to bring him a long pair of steps
which stood in a corner of the room, and which had been used for
securing the skylight above the billiard-table. These he placed in such
a position as would enable him to reach the window.
With a diamond-pointed instrument, and a hand as true as the eye that
guided it, he quickly extracted a square of colored glass, filed through
the catch, and was soon standing on the leads outside. A few moments
later, the ladder, which had already rendered him such signal service,
had enabled him to descend into the garden on the other side.
There he arranged a succession of footsteps in the soft mould, and
having done so, returned to the roof, carefully wiped the end of the
ladder, so that it should not betray him, and climbed down into the room
below, pulling it after him.
"I think we have finished now," he said to Belton, as he took a last
look at the recumbent guardians of the room. "These gentlemen sleep
soundly, so we will not disturb them further. Come, let us retire to
bed."
In less than half-an-hour he was in bed and fast asleep. Next morning
he was still confined to his room by his accident, though he expressed
himself as suffering but slight pain. Every one was quick to sympathize
with him, and numerous messages were conveyed to him expressive of
sorrow that he should have met with his accident at such a time of
general rejoicing. At ten o'clock the first batch of guests took their
departure. It was arranged that the Duke and Duchess of Rugby, the Earl
and Countess of Raxter, and Simon Carne, who was to be carried
downstairs, should travel up to town together by the special train
leaving immediately after lunch.
When they bade their host good-bye, the later was nearly overcome.
"I'm sure it has been a real downright pleasure to me to entertain you,
Mr. Carne," he said, as he stood by the carriage door and shook his
guest warmly by the hand. "There is only one thing bad about it, and
that is your accident."
"You must not speak of that," said Carne, with a little wave of his
hand. "The pleasure I have derived from my visit to you amply
compensates me for such a minor inconvenience."
So saying he shook hands and drove away to catch his train.
Next morning it was announced in all the Society papers that, owing to
an unfortunate accident he had sustained while visiting Mr. Matthew
Greenthorpe, at Greenthorpe Park, on the occasion of his daughter's
marriage, Mr. Simon Carne would be unable to fulfill any of the
engagements he might have entered into.
Any intelligent reader of the aforesaid papers might have been excused
had he pictured the gentleman in question confined to his bed tended by
skilled nurses, and watched over by the most fashionable West End
physicians obtainable for love or money. They would doubtless,
therefore, have been surprised could they have seen him at a late hour
on the following evening hard at work in the laboratory he had
constructed at the top of his house, as hale and hearty a man as any to
be found in the great Metropolis.
"Now those Apostle spoons," he was saying, as he turned from the
crucible at which he was engaged to Belton, who was busy at a side
table. "The diamonds are safely disposed of, their settings are melted
down, and, when these spoons have been added to the list, he will be a
wise man who can find in my possession any trace of the famous
Kilbenham-Greenthorpe wedding presents."
He was sitting before the fire in his study next morning, with his left
foot lying bound up upon a neighboring chair, when Ram Gafur announced
"Kelmare Sahib."
"So sorry to hear that you are under the weather Carne," said the
new-comer as he shook hands. "I only heard of your accident from Baxter
last night or I should have been round before. Beastly hard luck, but
you shouldn't have gone to the wedding, you know!"
"And, pray, why not?"
"You see for yourself you haven't profited by your visit, have you?"
"That all depends upon what you consider profit," replied Carne. "I was
an actor in an interesting Society spectacle. I was permitted an
opportunity of observing my fellow-creatures in many new lights.
Personally, I think I did very well. Besides that, to be laid up just
now is not altogether a thing to be despised, as you seem to imagine."
"What do you mean?"
"It isn't everybody who can boast such a valid excuse for declining
invitations as I now possess," said Carne. "When I tell you that I had
a dinner, a lecture at the Imperial institute, two 'at homes,' and three
dances on my list for to-night, you will understand what I mean. Now I
am able to decline every one of them without risk of giving offense or
fear of hurting the susceptibilities of any one. If you don't call that
luck, I do. And now tell me what has brought you here, for I suppose
you have some reason, other than friendship, for this early call. When
you came in I observed that you were bursting with importance. You are
not going to tell me that you have abandoned your yachting trip and are
going to get married?"
"You need have no fear on that score. All the same, I have the greatest
and most glorious news for you. It isn't every day a man finds
Providence taking up his case and entering into judgment against his
enemies for him. That is my position. Haven't you heard the news?"
"What news?" asked Carne innocently.
"The greatest of all possible news," answered Kelmare, "and one which
concerns you, my dear fellow. You may not believe it, but it was
discovered last evening that the Kilbenham-Greenthorpe wedding presents
have all been stolen, including the fifty thousand sovereigns presented
to the bride in the now famous jeweled casket. What do you think of
that?"
"Surely you must be joking," said Carrie incredulously. "I cannot
believe it."
"Nevertheless it's a fact," replied Kelmare.
"But when did it happen? and how did they discover it?" asked Carne.
"When it took place nobody can tell, but they discovered it when they
came to put the presents together after the guests had departed. On the
morning after the wedding old Greenthorpe had visited the safe himself,
and glanced casually at its contents, just to see that they were all
right, you know; but it was not until the afternoon, when they began to
do them up, that they discovered that every single article of value the
place contained had been abstracted, and dummies substituted. Their
investigation proved that the sky-light had been tampered with, and one
could see unmistakable footmarks on the flower beds outside."
"Good gracious!" said Carne. "This is news indeed. What a haul the
thieves must have had, to be sure. I can scarcely believe it even now.
But I thought they had a gardener in the room, a policeman at the door,
and a patrol outside, and that old Greenthorpe went to sleep with the
keys of the room and safe under his pillow?"
"Quite right," said Kelmare, "so he did; that's the mysterious part of
it. The two chaps swear positively that they were wide awake all night,
and that nothing was tampered with while they were there. Who the
thieves were, and how they became so familiar with the place are riddles
that it would puzzle the Sphinx, or your friend Klimo next door, to
unravel."
"What an unfortunate thing," said Carne. "It's to be hoped the police
will catch them before they have time to dispose of their booty."
"You are thinking of your bracelet, I suppose?"
"It may seem egotistical, but I must confess I was; and now I suppose
you'll stay to lunch?"
"I'm afraid that's impossible. There are at least five families who
have not heard the news, and I feel that it is my bounden duty to
enlighten them."
"You're quite right, it is not often a man has such glorious vengeance
to chronicle. It behooves you to make the most of it."
The other looked at Carne as if to discover whether or not he was
laughing at him. Carne's face, however, was quite expressionless.
"Good-bye; I suppose you won't be at the Wilbringham's to-night?"
"I'm afraid not. You evidently forget that, as I said just now, I have
a very good and sufficient excuse."
When the front door had closed behind his guest, Carne lit a third
cigar.
"I'm overstepping my allowance," he said reflectively, as he watched the
smoke circle upward, "but it isn't every day a man gives a thousand
pounds for a wedding present and gets upwards of seventy thousand back.
I think I may congratulate myself on having brought off a very
successful little speculation."
*CHAPTER VII.*
*THE MAN OF MANY CRIMES.*
If one consults a dictionary one finds that the word dipsomaniac means a
man who spends his life continually desiring alcoholic liquor; a name
that properly classifies it has not yet been invented for the individual
who exhibits a perpetual craving for notoriety, and yet one is, perhaps,
as much a nuisance to society as the other. After his run of success
there came a time when Simon Carne, like Alexander the Great, could have
sat down and wept, for the reason that he had no more worlds to conquer.
For the moment it seemed as if he had exhausted, to put it plainly,
every species of artistic villainy.
He had won the Derby, under peculiar circumstances, as narrated
elsewhere; he had rendered a signal though an unostentatious service to
the State; he had stolen, under enormous difficulty, the most famous
family jewels in Europe; and he had relieved the most fashionable bride
and bridegroom of the season of the valuable presents that their friends
and relations had lavished on them.
On a morning following a banquet at the Mansion House, at which he had
been a welcome, as well as a conspicuous guest, he was sitting alone in
his study smoking a meditative cigar. Though the world would scarcely
have thought it, a fashionable life did not suit him, and he was
beginning to wonder whether he was not, after all, a little tired of
England. He was hungering for the warmth and color of the East, and,
perhaps, if the truth must be told, for something of the rest he had
known in the Maharajah of Kadir's lake palace, where he had been
domiciled when he had first made the acquaintance of the man who had
been his sponsor in English society, the Earl of Amberley.
It was a strange coincidence that, while he was thinking of that
nobleman, and of the events which had followed the introduction just
referred to, his quick ears should have caught the sound of a bell that
was destined eventually to lead him up to one of the most sensational
adventures of all his sensational career. A moment later his butler
entered to inform him that Lady Caroline Weltershall and the Earl of
Amberley had called, and would like to see him. Tossing his cigar into
the grate, he passed through the door Ram Gafur held open for him, and,
having crossed the hall, entered the drawing-room.
As he went he wondered what it was that had brought them to see him at
such an early hour. Both were among his more intimate acquaintances and
both occupied distinguished positions in the social life of the world's
great metropolis. While her friends and relations spent their time in
search of amusement, and a seemingly eternal round of gaieties, which
involved a waste of both health and money, Lady Caroline, who was the
ugly duckling of an otherwise singularly handsome family, put her life
to a different use.
Philanthropy was her hobby, and scarcely a day passed in which she did
not speak at some meeting, preside over some committee, or endeavor in
some way, as she somewhat grandiloquently put it: "To better the lives
and ameliorate the conditions of our less fortunate fellow-creatures."
In appearance she was a short, fair woman, of about forty-five years of
age, with a not unhandsome face, the effect of which, however, was
completely spoilt by two large and protruding teeth.
"My dear Lady Caroline, this is indeed kind of you," said Carne, as he
shook hands with her, "and also of you, Lord Amberley. To what happy
circumstance may I attribute the pleasure of this visit?"
"I fear it is dreadfully early for us to come to see you," replied her
ladyship, "but Lord Amberley assured me that as our business is so
pressing you would forgive us."
"Pray do not apologize," returned Carne. "It gives me the greatest
possible pleasure to see you. As for the hour, I am ashamed to confess
that, while the morning is no longer young, I have only just finished
breakfast. But won't you sit down?"
They seated themselves once more, and when they had done so, Lady
Caroline unfolded her tale.
"As you are perhaps aware, my friends say that I never come to see them
unless it is to attempt to extort money from them for some charitable
purpose," she said. "No, you need not prepare to button up your
pockets, Mr. Carne. I am not going to ask you for anything to-day.
What I _do_ want, however, is to endeavor to persuade you to help us in
a movement we are inaugurating to raise money with which to relieve the
great distress in the Canary Islands, brought about by the late
disastrous earthquake. My cousin, the Marquis of Laverstock, has kindly
promised to act as president, and, although we started it but yesterday,
ten thousand pounds have already been subscribed. As you are aware,
however, if we are to attract public attention and support, the funds
raised must be representative of all classes. Our intention, therefore,
is to hold a drawing-room meeting at my house to-morrow afternoon, when
a number of the most prominent people of the day will be invited to give
us their views upon the subject.
"I feel sure, if you will only consent to throw in your lot with us, and
to assist in carrying out what we have in view, we shall be able to
raise a sum of at least one hundred thousand pounds for the benefit of
the sufferers. Our kind friend here, Lord Amberley, has promised to act
as secretary, and his efforts will be invaluable to us. Royalty has
signified its gracious approval, and it is expected will head the list
with a handsome donation. Every class will be appealed to. Ministers
of religion, of all known denominations, will be invited to co-operate,
and if you will only consent to allow your name to appear upon the
personnel of the committee, and will allow us to advertise your name as
a speaker at to-morrow's meeting, I feel sure there is nothing we shall
not be able to achieve."
"I shall be delighted to help you in any way I can," Carne replied. "If
my name is likely to be of any assistance to you, I beg you will make
use of it. In the meantime, if you will permit me, I will forward you a
cheque for one thousand pounds, being my contribution to the fund you
have so charitably started."
Her ladyship beamed with delight, and even Lord Amberley smiled gracious
approval.
"You are generous, indeed," said Lady Caroline. "I only wish others
would imitate your example."
She did not say that, wealthy though she herself was, she had only
contributed ten pounds to the fund. It is well known that while she
inaugurated large works of charity, she seldom contributed very largely
to them. As a wit once remarked: "Philanthropy was her virtue, and
meanness was her vice."
"Egad," said Amberley, "if you're going to open your purse-strings like
that, Carne, I shall feel called upon to do the same."
"Then let me have the pleasure of booking both amounts at once," cried
her ladyship, at the same time whipping out her note-book and pencil
with flattering alacrity.
"I shall be delighted," said Carne, with a smile of eagerness.
"I also," replied Amberley, and in a trice both amounts were written
down. Having gained her point, her ladyship rose to say good-bye. Lord
Amberley immediately imitated her example.
"You will not forget, will you, Mr. Carne?" she said. "I am to have the
pleasure of seeing you at my house to-morrow afternoon at three o'clock.
We shall look forward to hearing your speech, and I need not remind you
that every word you utter will be listened to with the closest
attention."
"At three to-morrow afternoon," said Carne, "I shall be at your house.
You need have no fear that I shall forget. And now, since you think you
must be going, good-bye, and many thanks to you for asking me."
He escorted them to the carriage which was waiting outside, and when he
had watched it drive away, returned to his study to write the cheque he
had promised her. Having done so, he did not rise from his chair, but
continued to sit at his writing-table biting the feather of his quill
pen and staring at the blotting pad before him. A great and glorious
notion had suddenly come into his head, and the majesty of it was for
the moment holding him spellbound.
"If only it could be worked," he said to himself, "what a glorious
_coup_ it would be. The question for my consideration is, can it be
done? To invite the people of England to subscribe its pounds,
shillings, and pence for my benefit, would be a glorious notion, and
just the sort of thing I should enjoy. Besides which I have to remember
that I am a thousand pounds to the bad already, and that must come back
from somewhere. For the present, however I'll put the matter aside.
After the meeting to-morrow I shall have something tangible to go upon,
and then, if I still feel in the same mind, it will be strange if I
can't find some way of doing what I want. In the meantime I shall have
to think out my speech; upon that will depend a good deal of my success.
It is a strange world in which it is ordained that so much should depend
upon so little!"
At five minutes to three o'clock on the following afternoon Simon Carne
might have been observed--that, I believe, is the correct
expression--strolling across from Apsley House to Gloucester Place.
Reaching Lord Weltershall's residence, he discovered a long row of
carriages lining the pavement, and setting down their occupants at his
lordship's door. Carne followed the stream into the house, and was
carried by it up the stairs towards the large drawing-room where the
meeting was to be held. Already about a hundred persons were present,
and it was evident that, if they continued to arrive at the same rate,
it would not be long before the room would be filled to overflowing.
Seeing Lady Caroline bidding her friends welcome near the door, Carne
hastened to shake hands with her.
"It is so very good of you to come," she said, as she took his hand.
"Remember, we are looking to you for a rousing speech this afternoon.
We want one that will inflame all England, and touch the heartstrings of
every man and woman in the land."
"To touch their purse-strings would, perhaps, be more to the point,"
said Carne, with one of his quiet smiles.
"Let us hope we shall touch them, too," she replied. "Now would you mind
going to the dais at the other end of the room? You will find Lord
Laverstock there, talking to my husband, I think."
Carne bowed, and went forward as he had been directed.
So soon as it was known that the celebrities had arrived, the meeting
was declared open and the speech-making commenced. Clever as some of
them were it could not be doubted that Carne's address was the event of
the afternoon. He was a born speaker, and what was more, despite the
short notice he had received, had made himself thoroughly conversant
with his subject. His handsome face was on fire with excitement, and
his sonorous voice rang through the large room like a trumpet call.
When he sat down it was amidst a burst of applause. Lord Laverstock
leant forward and shook hands with him.
"Your speech will be read all over England to-morrow morning," he said.
"It should make a difference of thousands of pounds to the fund. I
congratulate you most heartily upon it."
Simon Carne felt that if it was really going to make that difference he
might, in the light of future events, heartily congratulate himself.
He, however, accepted the praise showered upon him with becoming
modesty, and, during the next speaker's exhibition of halting elocution,
amused himself watching the faces before him, and speculating as to what
they would say when the surprise he was going to spring upon them became
known. Half-an-hour later, when the committee had been elected and the
meeting had broken up, he bade his friends good-bye and set off on his
return home. That evening he was dining at home, intending to call at
his club afterwards, and to drop in at a reception and two dances
between ten and midnight. After dinner, however, he changed his mind,
and having instructed Ram Gafur to deny him to all callers, and
countermanding his order for his carriage, went to his study, where he
locked himself in and sat down to smoke and think.
He had set himself a puzzle which would have taxed the brain of that
arch schemer Machiavelli himself. He was not, however, going to be
beaten by it. There must be some way, he told himself, in which the
fraud could be worked, and if there was he was going to find it.
Numberless were the plans he formed, only to discover a few moments
later that some little difficulty rendered each impracticable.
Suddenly, throwing down the pencil with which he had been writing, he
sprang to his feet and began eagerly to pace the room. It was evident,
from the expression upon his face, that he had touched upon a train of
thought that was at last likely to prove productive. Reaching the
fireplace for about the thirtieth time, he paused and gazed into the
fireless grate. After standing there for a few moments he turned, and,
with his hands in his pockets, said solemnly to himself: "Yes, I think
it can be done!"
Whatever the train of thought may have been that led him to make this
declaration, it was plain that it afforded him no small amount of
satisfaction. He did not, however, commit himself at once to a
decision, but continued to think over the scheme he had hit upon until
he had completely mastered it. It was nearly midnight before he was
thoroughly satisfied. Then he followed his invariable practice on such
occasions, and rang for the inimitable Belton. When he had admitted him
to the room, he bade him close and lock the door behind him.
By the time this had been done he had lit a fresh cigar, and had once
more taken up his position on the hearthrug.
"I sent for you to say that I have just made up my mind to try a little
scheme, compared with which all I have done so far will sink into
insignificance."
"What is it, sir?" asked Belton.
"I will tell you, but you must not look so terrified. Put in a few
words, it is neither more nor less than to attempt to divert the
enormous sums of money which the prodigal English public is taking out
of its pocket in order to assist the people of the Canary Islands, who
have lost so severely by the recent terrible earthquake, into my own."
Belton's face expressed his astonishment.
"But, my dear sir," he said, "that's a fund of which the Marquis of
Laverstock is president, and of whose committee you are one of the
principal members."
"Exactly," answered Carne. "It is to those two happy circumstances I
shall later on attribute the success I now mean to attain. Lord
Laverstock is merely a pompous old nobleman, whose hobby is
philanthropy. This lesson will do him good. It will be strange if,
before I am a week older, I cannot twist him round my finger. Now for
my instructions. In the first place, you must find me a moderate-sized
house, fit for an elderly lady, and situated in a fairly fashionable
quarter, say South Kensington. Furnish it on the hire system from one
of the big firms, and engage three servants who can be relied upon to do
their work and, what is more important, who can hold their tongues.
"Next find me an old lady to impersonate the mistress of the house. She
must be very frail and delicate-looking, and you will arrange with some
livery stable people in the neighborhood to supply her with a carriage,
in which she will go for an airing every afternoon in order that the
neighborhood may become familiar with her personality. Both she and the
servants must be made to thoroughly understand that their only chance of
obtaining anything from me depends upon their carrying out my
instructions to the letter. Also, while they are in the house, they
must keep themselves to themselves. My identity, of course, must not
transpire.
"As soon as I give the signal, the old lady must keep to the house, and
the neighborhood must be allowed to understand that she is seriously
ill. The day following she will be worse, and the next she will be
dead. You will then make arrangements for the funeral, order a coffin,
and arrange for the conveyance of the body to Southampton, _en route_
for the Channel Islands, where she is to be buried. At Southampton a
yacht, which I will arrange for myself, will be in readiness to carry us
out to sea. Do you think you understand?"
"Perfectly, sir," Belton replied, "but I wish I could persuade you to
give up the attempt. You will excuse my saying so, sir, I hope, but it
does seem to me a pity, when you have done so much, to risk losing it
all over such a dangerous bit of business as this. It surely can't
succeed, sir?"
"Belton," said Carne very seriously, "you strike me as being in a
strange humor to-night, and I cannot say that I like it. Were it not
that I have the most implicit confidence in you, I should begin to think
you were turning honest. In that case our connection would be likely to
be a very short one."
"I hope, sir," Belton answered in alarm, "that you still believe I am as
devoted as ever to your interests."
"I do believe it," Carne replied. "Let the manner in which you carry
out the various instructions I have just given you, confirm me in that
belief. This is Wednesday. I shall expect you to come to me on
Saturday with a report that the house has been taken and furnished, and
that the servants are installed and the delicate old lady in residence."
"You may rely upon my doing my best, sir."
"I feel sure of that," said Carne, "and now that all is arranged I think
I will go to bed."
A week later a committee of the Canary Island Relief Fund was able to
announce to the world, through the columns of the Daily Press, that the
generous public of England had subscribed no less a sum than one hundred
thousand pounds for the relief of the sufferers by the late earthquake.
The same day Carne attended a committee meeting in Gloucester Place. A
proposition advanced by Lady Weltershall and seconded by Simon Carne was
carried unanimously. It was to the effect that in a week's time such
members of the Relief Committee as could get away should start for the
scene of the calamity in the chairman's yacht, which had been placed at
their disposal, taking with them, for distribution among the
impoverished inhabitants of the Islands, the sum already subscribed,
namely, one hundred thousand pounds in English gold. They would then be
able, with the assistance of the English Consul, to personally
superintend the distribution of their money, and also be in a position
to report to the subscribers, when they returned to England, the manner
in which the money had been utilized.
"In that case," said Carne, who had not only seconded the motion, but
had put the notion into Lady Weltershall's head, "it might be as well if
our chairman would interview the authorities of the bank, and arrange
that the amount in question shall be packed, ready for delivery to the
messengers he may select to call for it before the date in question."
"I will make it my business to call at the bank to-morrow morning,"
replied the chairman, "and perhaps you, Mr. Carne, would have no
objection to accompany me."
"If it will facilitate the business of this committee I shall be only
too pleased to do so," said Carne, and so it was settled.
On a Tuesday afternoon, six days later, and two days before the date
upon which it had been arranged that the committee should sail, the
Marquis of Laverstock received a letter. Lady Caroline Weltershall, the
Earl of Amberley, and Simon Carne were with him when he opened it. He
read it through, and then read it again, after which he turned to his
guests.
"This is really a very extraordinary communication," he said, "and it
affects the matter we have most at heart, perhaps I had better read it
to you:
"_154, Great Chesterton Street,_
_Tuesday Evening._
To the Most Noble the Marquis of Laverstock, K. G., Berkeley Square.
"MY LORD--As one who has been permitted to enjoy a long and peaceful
life in a country where such visitations are happily unknown, I take the
liberty of writing to your Lordship to say how very much I should like
to subscribe to the fund so nobly started by you and your friends to
assist the poor people who have lost so much by the earthquake in the
Canary Islands. Being a lonely old woman, blessed by Providence with
some small share of worldly wealth, I feel it my duty to make some small
sacrifice to help others who have not been so blessed.
"Unfortunately, I do not enjoy very good health, but if your Lordship
could spare a moment to call upon me, I would like to thank you in the
name of Womanhood, for all you have done, and, in proof of my gratitude,
would willingly give you my cheque for the sum of ten thousand pounds to
add to the amount already subscribed. I am permitted by my doctors to
see visitors between the hours of eleven and twelve in the morning, and
five and six in the afternoon. I should then be both honored and
pleased to see your Lordship.
"Trusting you will concede me this small favor, I have the honor to be,
Yours very sincerely,
"JANET O'HALLORAN."
There was a momentary pause after his lordship had finished reading the
letter.
"What will you do?" inquired Lady Caroline.
"It is a noble offering," put in Simon Carne.
"I think there cannot be two opinions as to what is my duty," replied
the chairman. "I shall accede to her request, though why she wants to
see me is more than I can tell."
"As she hints in the letter, she wishes to congratulate you personally
on what you have done," continued the Earl of Amberley; "and as it will
be the handsomest donation we have yet received, it will, perhaps, be as
well to humor her."
"In that case I will do as I say, and make it my business to call there
this afternoon between five and six. And now it is my duty to report to
you that Mr. Simon Carne and I waited upon the authorities at the bank
this morning, and have arranged that the sum of one hundred thousand
pounds in gold shall be ready for our messengers when they call for it,
either to-morrow morning or to-morrow afternoon at latest."
"It is a large sum to take with us," said Lady Caroline. "I trust it
will not prove a temptation to thieves!"
"You need have no fear on that score," replied his lordship. "As I have
explained to the manager, my own trusted servants will effect the
removal of the money, accompanied by two private detectives, who will
remain on board my yacht until we weigh anchor. We have left nothing to
chance. To make the matter doubly sure, I have also arranged that the
money shall not be handed over except to a person who shall present my
cheque, and at the same time show this signet ring which I now wear upon
my finger."
The other members of the committee expressed themselves as perfectly
satisfied with this arrangement, and when certain other business had
been transacted the meeting broke up.
As soon as he left Berkeley Square Carne returned with all haste to
Porchester House. Reaching his study he ordered that Belton should be
at once sent to him.
"Now, Belton," he said, when the latter stood before him, "there is not
a moment to lose. Lord Laverstock will be at Great Chesterton Street in
about two hours. Send a messenger to Waterloo to inquire if they can
let us have a special train at seven o'clock to take a funeral party to
Southampton. Use the name of Merryburn, and you may say that the amount
of the charge, whatever it may be, will be paid before the train starts.
As soon as you obtain a reply, bring it to 154, Great Chesterton Street.
In the meantime I shall disguise myself and go on to await you there. On
the way I shall wire to the captain of the yacht at Southampton to be
prepared for us. Do you understand what you have to do?"
"Perfectly, sir," Belton replied. "But I must confess that I am very
nervous."
"There is no need to be. Mark my words, everything will go like
clockwork. Now I am going to change my things and prepare for the
excursion."
He would have been a sharp man who would have recognized in the
dignified-looking clergyman who drove up in a hansom to 154, Great
Chesterton Street, half-an-hour later, Simon Carne, who had attended the
committee meeting of the Canary Island Relief Fund that afternoon. As
he alighted he looked up, and saw that all the blinds were drawn down,
and that there were evident signs that Death had laid his finger on the
house. Having dismissed his cab he rang the bell, and when the door was
opened entered the house. The butler who admitted him had been prepared
for coming. He bowed respectfully, and conducted him into the
drawing-room. There he found an intensely respectable lady, attired in
black silk, seated beside the window.
"Go upstairs," he said peremptorily, "and remain in the room above this
until you are told to come down. Be careful not to let yourself be
seen. As soon as it gets dark to-night you can leave the house, but not
till then. Before you go the money promised you will be paid. Now be
off upstairs, and make sure that some of the neighbors catch sight of
you."
Ten minutes later a man, who might have been a retired military officer,
and who was dressed in the deepest black, drove up, and was admitted to
the house. Though no one would have recognized him, Carne addressed him
at once as "Belton."
"What have you arranged about the train?" he asked, as soon as they were
in the drawing-room together.
"I have settled that it shall be ready to start for Southampton
punctually at seven o'clock," the other answered.
"And what about the hearse?"
"It will be here at a quarter to seven, without fail."
"Very good; we will have the corpse ready meanwhile. Now, before you do
anything else, have the two lower blinds in the front room drawn up. If
he thinks there is trouble in the house he may take fright, and we must
not scare our bird away after all the bother we have had to lure him
here."
For the next hour they were busily engaged perfecting their
arrangements. These were scarcely completed before a gorgeous landau
drove up to the house, and Belton reported that the footman had alighted
and was ascending the steps.
"Let his lordship be shown into the drawing-room," said Simon Carne,
"and as soon as he is there do you, Belton, wait at the door. I'll call
you when I want you."
Carne went into the drawing-room and set the door ajar. As he did so he
heard the footman inquire whether Mrs. O'Halloran was at home, and
whether she would see his master. The butler answered in the
affirmative, and a few moments later the Marquis ascended the steps.
"Will you be pleased to step this way my lord," said the servant. "My
mistress is expecting you, and will see you at once."
When he entered the drawing-room he discovered the same portly,
dignified clergyman whom the neighbors had seen enter the house an hour
or so before, standing before the fireplace.
"Good-afternoon, my lord," said this individual as the door closed
behind the butler. "If you will be good enough to take a seat, Mrs.
O'Halloran will be down in a few moments."
His lordship did as he was requested, and while doing so commented on
the weather, and allowed his eyes to wander round the room. He took in
the grand piano, the easy chairs on either side of the book-case, and
the flower-stand in the window. He could see that there was plain
evidence of wealth in these things. What his next thought would have
been can only be conjectured, for he was suddenly roused from his
reverie by hearing the man say in a gruff voice: "it's all up, my lord.
If you move or attempt to cry out, you're a dead man!"
Swinging round he discovered a revolver barrel pointed at his head. He
uttered an involuntary cry of alarm, and made as if he would rise.
"Sit down, sir," said the clergyman authoritatively. "Are you mad that
you disobey me? You do not know with whom you are trifling."
"What do you mean?" cried the astonished peer, his eyes almost starting
from his head. "I demand to be told what this behavior means. Are you
aware who I am?"
"Perfectly," the other replied. "As to your other question, you will
know nothing more than I choose to tell you. What's more, I should
advise you to hold your tongue, unless you desire to be gagged. That
would be unpleasant for all parties."
Then, turning to the door, he cried: "Come in, Dick!"
A moment later the military individual, who had been to Waterloo to
arrange about the train, entered the room to find the Most Noble the
Marquis of Laverstock seated in an easy chair, almost beside himself
with terror, with the venerable clergyman standing over him revolver in
hand.
"Dick, my lad," said the latter quietly, "his lordship has been wise
enough to hear reason. No, sir, thank you, your hands behind your back,
as arranged, if you please. If you don't obey me I shall blow your
brains out, and it would be a thousand pities to spoil this nice Turkey
carpet. That's right. Now, Dick, my lad, I want his lordship's
pocket-book from his coat and those sheets of note-paper and envelopes
we brought with us. I carry a stylographic pen myself, so there is no
need of ink."
These articles having been obtained, they were placed on a table beside
him, and Carne took possession of the pocket-book. He leisurely opened
it, and from it took the cheque for one hundred thousand pounds, signed
by the chairman and committee of the Canary Island Relief Fund, which
had been drawn that afternoon.
"Now take the pen," he said, "and begin to write. Endeavor to remember
that I am in a hurry, and have no time to waste. Let the first letter
be to the bank authorities. Request them, in your capacity of Chairman
of the Relief Fund, to hand to the bearers the amount of the cheque in
gold."
"I will do no such thing," cried the old fellow sturdily. "Nothing
shall induce me to assist you in perpetrating such a fraud."
"I am sorry to hear that," said Carne sweetly, "for I am afraid in that
case we shall be compelled to make you submit to a rather unpleasant
alternative. Come, sir, I will give you three minutes in which to write
that letter. If at the end of that time you have not done so, I shall
proceed to drastic measures."
So saying, he thrust the poker into the fire in a highly suggestive
manner. Needless to say, within the time specified the letter had been
written, placed in its envelope, and directed.
"Now I shall have to trouble you to fill in this telegraph form to your
wife, to tell her that you have been called out of town, and do not
expect to be able to return until to-morrow."
The other wrote as directed, and when he had done so Carne placed this
paper also in his pocket.
"Now I want that signet ring upon your finger, if you please."
The old gentleman handed it over to his persecutor with a heavy sigh.
He had realized that it was useless to refuse.
"Now that wine-glass on the sideboard, Dick," said the clergyman, "also
that carafe of water. When you have given them to me, go and see that
the others things I spoke to you about are ready."
Having placed the articles in question upon the table Belton left the
room. Carne immediately filled the glass, into which he poured about a
tablespoonful of some dark liquid from a bottle which he took from his
pocket, and which he had brought with him for that purpose.
"I'll have to trouble you to drink this, my lord," he said, as he
stirred the contents of the glass with an ivory paper knife taken from
the table. "You need have no fear. It is perfectly harmless, and will
not hurt you."
"I will not touch it," replied the other. "Nothing you can do or say
will induce me to drink a drop of it."
Carne examined his watch ostentatiously.
"Time flies, I regret to say," he answered impressively, "and I cannot
stay to argue the question with you. I will give you three minutes to
do as I have ordered you. If you have not drunk it by that time we
shall be compelled to repeat the little persuasion we tried with such
success a few moments since."
"You wish to kill me," cried the other. "I will not drink it. I will
not be murdered. You are a fiend to attempt such a thing."
"I regret to say you are wasting time," replied his companion. "I
assure you if you drink it you will not be hurt. It is merely an opiate
intended to put you to sleep until we have time to get away in safety.
Come, that delightful poker is getting hot again, and if you do not do
what I tell you, trouble will ensue. Think well before you refuse."
There was another pause, during which the unfortunate nobleman gazed
first at the poker, which had been thrust between the bars of the grate
and then at the relentless being who stood before him, revolver in hand.
Never had a member of the House of Lords been placed in a more awkward
and unenviable position.
"One minute," said Carne quietly.
There was another pause, during which the Marquis groaned in a
heartrending manner. Carne remembered with a smile that the family
title had been bestowed upon one of the Marquis' ancestors for bravery
on the field of battle.
"Two minutes!"
As he spoke he stooped and gave the poker a little twist.
"Three minutes!"
The words were scarce out of his mouth before Lord Laverstock threw up
his hands.
"You are a heartless being to make me, but I will drink," he cried, and
with an ashened face he immediately swallowed the contents of the glass.
"Thank you," said Carne politely.
The effect produced by the drug was almost instantaneous. A man could
scarcely have counted a hundred before the old gentleman, who had
evidently resigned himself to his fate, laid himself back in his chair
and was fast asleep.
"He has succumbed even quicker than I expected," said Carne to himself
as he bent over the prostrate figure and listened to his even breathing.
"It is, perhaps, just as well that this drug is not known in England.
At any rate, on this occasion it has answered my purpose most
admirably."
At five minutes before seven o'clock a hearse containing the mortal
remains of Mrs. O'Halloran, of Great Chesterton Street, South
Kensington, entered the yard of Waterloo Station, accompanied by a
hansom cab. A special train was in waiting to convey the party, which
consisted of the deceased's brother, a retired Indian officer, and her
cousin, the vicar of a Somersetshire parish, to Southampton, where a
steam yacht would transport them to Guernsey, in which place the remains
were to be interred beside those of her late husband.
"I think we may congratulate ourselves, Belton, on having carried it out
most successfully," said Carne when the coffin had been carried on board
the yacht and placed in the saloon. "As soon as we are under weigh
we'll have this lid off and get the poor old gentleman out. He has had
a good spell of it in there, but he may congratulate himself that the
ventilating arrangements of his temporary home were so perfectly
attended to. Otherwise I should have trembled for the result."
A few hours later, having helped his guest to recover consciousness, and
having seen him safely locked up in a cabin on board, the yacht put in
at a little sea-port town some thirty or forty miles from Southampton
Water, and landed two men in time to catch the midnight express to
London. The following afternoon they rejoined the yacht a hundred miles
or so further down the coast. When they were once more out at sea Carne
called the skipper to his cabin.
"How has your prisoner conducted himself during our absence?" he asked.
"Has he given any trouble?
"Not a bit," replied the man. "The poor old buffer's been too sick to
make a row. He sent away his breakfast and his lunch untouched. The
only thing he seems to care about is champagne, and that he drinks by
the bottle-full. I never saw a better man at his bottle in all my
life."
It was well after ten o'clock that evening when Simon Carne, still
attired as a respectable Church of England clergyman, unlocked the door
and entered his prisoner's cabin.
"You will be glad to hear, my lord," he said, "that your term of
imprisonment has at last come to an end. You had better get up and
dress, for a boat will be alongside in twenty minutes to take you
ashore."
The unfortunate gentleman needed no second bidding. Ill as he had
hitherto been, he seemed to derive new life from the other's words. At
any rate, he sprang out of his bunk, and set to work to dress with
feverish energy. All the time Carne sat and watched him with an amused
smile upon his face. So soon as he was ready, and the captain had
knocked at the door, he was conducted to the deck and ordered to descend
into a shore boat, which had come off in answer to a signal and was now
lying alongside in readiness.
Carne and Belton leant over the bulwarks to watch him depart.
"Good-bye, my lord," cried the former, as the boat moved away. "It has
been a sincere pleasure to me to entertain you, and I only hope that, in
return, you have enjoyed your little excursion. You might give my
respectful compliments to the members of the Canary Island Relief Fund,
and tell them that there is at least one person on board this yacht who
appreciates their kindly efforts."
Then his lordship stood up, and shook his fist at the yacht until it had
faded away, and could no longer be seen owing to the darkness.
Presently Carne turned to Belton.
"So much for the Most Noble the Marquis of Laverstock," he said, "and
the Canary Island Relief Fund. Now, let us be off to town. To-morrow I
must be Simon Carne once more."
Next morning Simon Carne arose from his couch, in his luxurious bedroom,
a little later than usual. He knew he should be tired, and had
instructed Belton not to come in until he rang his bell. When the
latter appeared he bade him bring in the morning papers. He found what
he wanted in the first he opened, on the middle page, headed with three
lines of large type:
GIGANTIC SWINDLE.
THE MARQUIS OF LAVERSTOCK ABDUCTED.
THE CANARY ISLAND FUND STOLEN.
"This looks quite interesting," said Carne, as he folded the paper in
order to be able the better to read the account. "As I know something
of the case I shall be interested to see what they have to say about it.
Let me see."
The newspaper version ran as follows:
"Of all the series of extraordinary crimes which it has been our
unfortunate duty to chronicle during this year of great rejoicing, it is
doubtful whether a more impudent robbery has been perpetrated than that
which we have to place before our readers this morning. As every one is
well aware, a large fund has been collected from all classes for the
relief of the sufferers by the recent Canary Island earthquake. On the
day before the robbery took place this fund amounted to no less a sum
than one hundred thousand pounds, and to-morrow it was the intention of
the committee under the presidency of the Most Noble the Marquis of
Laverstock to proceed to the seat of the disaster, taking with them the
entire amount of the sum raised in English gold. Unfortunately for the
success of this scheme, his lordship was the recipient, two days ago, of
a letter from a person purporting to reside in Great Chesterton Street,
South Kensington. She signed herself Janet O'Halloran, and offered to
add a sum of ten thousand pounds to the amount already collected,
provided the Marquis would call and collect her cheque personally. The
excuse given for this extraordinary stipulation was that she wished to
convey to him her thanks for the trouble he had taken.
"Accordingly, feeling that he had no right to allow such a chance to
slip, his lordship visited the house. He was received in the
drawing-room by a man dressed in the garb of a clergyman, who, assisted
by a military-looking individual, presently clapped a revolver to his
head and demanded, under the threat of all sorts of penalties, that he
should give up to him the cheque drawn upon the bank, and which it was
the Marquis's intention to have cashed the following morning. Not
satisfied with this assurance, he was also made to write an order to the
banking authorities authorizing them to pay over the money to the
bearer, who was a trusted agent, while at the same time he was to supply
them with his signet ring, which, as had already been arranged, would
prove that the messengers were genuine and what they pretended to be.
Next he was ordered to drink a powerful opiate, and after that his
lordship remembers nothing more until he awoke to find himself on board
a small yacht in mid-channel. Despite the agony he was suffering, he was
detained on board this piratical craft until late last night, when he
was set ashore at a small village within a few miles of Plymouth. Such
is his lordship's story. The sequel to the picture is as follows:
"Soon after the bank was opened yesterday, a respectable-looking
individual, accompanied by three others, who were introduced to the
manager as private detectives, put in an appearance and presented the
Relief Fund's cheque at the counter. In reply to inquiries the letter
written by the Marquis was produced, and the signet ring shown. Never
for a moment doubting that these were the messengers the bank had all
along been told to expect, the money was handed over and placed in a
handsome private omnibus which was waiting outside. It was not until
late last night, when a telegram was received from the Marquis of
Laverstock from Plymouth, that the nature of the gigantic fraud which
had been perpetrated was discovered. The police authorities were
immediately communicated with and the matter placed in their hands.
Unfortunately, however, so many hours had been allowed to elapse that it
was extremely difficult to obtain any clue that might ultimately lead to
the identification of the parties concerned in the fraud. So far the
case bids fair to rank with those other mysterious robberies which,
during the last few months, have shocked and puzzled all England."
"I regard that as a remarkably able exposition of the case," said Carne
to himself with a smile as he laid the paper down, "but what an account
the man would be able to write if only he could know what is in my safe
upstairs!"
That afternoon he attended a committee meeting of the fund at
Weltershall House. The unfortunate nobleman whose unpleasant experience
had founded the subject of this story was present. Carne was among the
first to offer him an expression of sympathy.
"I don't know that I ever heard of a more outrageous case," he said. "I
only hope that the scoundrels may be soon brought to justice."
"In the meantime what about the poor people we intended to help?" asked
Lady Weltershall.
"They shall not lose," replied Lord Laverstock. "I shall refund the
entire amount myself."
"No, no, my lord; that would be manifestly unfair," said Simon Carne.
"We are all trustees of the fund and what happened is as much our faults
as yours. If nine other people will do the same I am prepared to
contribute a sum of ten thousand pounds towards the fund."
"I will follow your example," said the Marquis.
"I also," continued Lord Amberley.
By nightfall seven other gentleman had done the same, and, as Simon
Carne said as he totalled the amounts: "By this means the Canary
Islanders will not be losers after all."
*CHAPTER VIII.*
*AN IMPERIAL FINALE.*
Of all the functions that ornament the calendar of the English social
and sporting year, surely the Lowes week may claim to rank as one of the
greatest, or at least the most enjoyable. So thought Simon Carne as he
sat on the deck of Lord Tremorden's yacht, anchored off the mouth of the
Medina River, smoking his cigarette and whispering soft nothings into
the shell-like ear of Lady Mabel Madderley, the lady of all others who
had won the right to be considered the beauty of the past season. It
was a perfect afternoon, and, as if to fill his flagon of enjoyment to
the very brim, he had won the Queen's Cup with his yacht, _The Unknown
Quantity_, only half-an-hour before. Small wonder, therefore, that he
was contented with his lot in life, and his good fortune of that
afternoon in particular.
The tiny harbor was crowded with shipping of all sorts, shapes, and
sizes, including the guardship, his Imperial Majesty the Emperor of
Westphalia's yacht the _Hohenzrallas_, the English Royal yachts, steam
yachts, schooners, cutters, and all the various craft taking part in
England's greatest water carnival. Steam launches darted hither and
thither, smartly-equipped gigs conveyed gaily-dressed parties from
vessel to vessel, while, ashore the little town itself was alive with
bunting, and echoed to the strains of almost continuous music.
"Surely you ought to consider yourself a very happy man, Mr. Carne,"
said Lady Mabel Madderley with a smile, in reply to a speech of the
other's. "You won the Derby in June, and to-day you have appropriated
the Queen's Cup."
"If such things constitute happiness I suppose I must be in the seventh
heaven of delight," answered Carne, as he took another cigarette from
his case and lit it. "All the same, I am insatiable enough to desire
still greater fortune. When one has set one's heart upon winning
something, besides which the Derby and the Queen's Cup are items
scarcely worth considering, one is rather apt to feel that Fortune has
still much to give."
"I am afraid I do not quite grasp your meaning," she said. But there
was a look in her face that told him that, if she did not understand,
she could at least make a very good guess. According to the world's
reckoning, he was quite the best fish then swimming in the matrimonial
pond, and some people, for the past few weeks, had even gone so far as
to say that she had hooked him. It could not be denied that he had been
paying her unmistakable attention of late.
What answer he would have vouchsafed to her speech it is impossible to
say for at that moment their host came along the deck towards them. He
carried a note in his hand.
"I have just received a message to say that His Imperial Majesty is
going to honor us with a visit," he said, when he reached them. "If I
mistake not, that is his launch coming towards us now."
Lady Mabel and Simon Carne rose and accompanied him to the starboard
bulwarks. A smart white launch with the Westphalian flag flying at her
stern, had left the Royal yacht and was steaming quickly towards them.
A few minutes later it had reached the companion ladder, and Lord
Tremorden had descended to welcome his Royal guest. When they reached
the deck together, his Majesty shook hands with Lady Tremorden, and
afterwards with Lady Mabel and Simon Carne.
"I must congratulate you most heartily, Mr. Carne," he said, "on your
victory to-day. You gave us an excellent race, and though I had the
misfortune to be beaten by thirty seconds, still I have the satisfaction
of knowing that the winner was a better boat in every way than my own."
"Your Majesty adds to the sweets of victory by your generous acceptance
of defeat," Carne replied "But I must confess that I owe my success in
no way to my own ability. The boat was chosen for me by another, and I
have not even the satisfaction of saying that I sailed her myself."
"Nevertheless she is your property, and you will go down to posterity
famous in yachting annals as the winner of the Queen's Cup in this
justly celebrated year."
With this compliment his Majesty turned to his hostess and entered into
conversation with her, leaving his aide-de-camp free to discuss the
events of the day with Lady Mabel. When he took his departure
half-an-hour later, Carne also bade his friends good-bye, and,
descending to his boat, was rowed away to his own beautiful steam yacht,
which was anchored a few cables' length away from the Imperial craft.
He was to dine on board the latter vessel that evening.
On gaining the deck he was met by Belton, his valet, who carried a
telegram in his hand. As soon as he received it, Carne opened it and
glanced at the contents.
"Come below," he said quickly. "There is news enough here to give us
something to think of for hours to come."
Reaching the saloon, which was decorated with all the daintiness of the
upholsterer's art, he led the way to the cabin he had arranged as a
study. Having entered it, he shut and locked the door.
"It's all up, Belton," he said. "The comedy has lasted long enough, and
now it only remains for us to speak the tag, and after that to ring the
curtain down as speedily as may be."
"I am afraid, sir, I do not quite take your meaning," said Belton.
"Would you mind telling me what has happened?"
"I can do that in a very few words," the other answered. "This
cablegram is from Trincomalee Liz, and was dispatched from Bombay
yesterday. Read it for yourself."
He handed the paper to his servant, who read it carefully aloud:
To CARNE, Portchester House, Park Lane, London.--Bradfield left
fortnight since. Have ascertained that you are the object.
TRINCOMALEE.
"This is very serious, sir," said the other, when he had finished.
"As you say, it is very serious indeed," Carne replied. "Bradfield
thinks he has caught me at last, I suppose; but he seems to forget that
it is possible for me to be as clever as himself. Let me look at the
message again. Left a fortnight ago, did he? Then I've still a little
respite. By Jove, if that's the case, I'll see that I make the most of
it."
"But surely, sir, you will leave at once," said Belton quickly. "If
this man, who has been after us so long, is now more than half-way to
England, coming with the deliberate intention of running you to earth,
surely, sir, you'll see the advisability of making your escape while you
have time."
Carne smiled indulgently.
"Of course I shall escape, my good Belton," he said. "You have never
known me to neglect to take proper precautions yet; but before I go I
must do one more piece of business. It must be something by the light
of which all I have hitherto accomplished will look like nothing.
Something really great, that will make England open its eyes as it has
not done yet."
Belton stared at him, this time in undisguised amazement.
"Do you mean to tell me, sir," he said with the freedom of a privileged
servant, "that you intend to run another risk, when the only man who
knows sufficient of your career to bring you to book is certain to be in
England in less than a fortnight? I cannot believe that you would be so
foolish, sir. I beg of you to think what you are doing."
Carne, however, paid but small attention to his servant's entreaties.
"The difficulty," he said to himself, speaking his thoughts aloud, "is
to understand quite what to do. I seem to have used up all my big
chances. However, I'll think it over, and it will be strange if I don't
hit upon something. In the meantime, Belton, you had better see that
preparations are made for leaving England on Friday next. Tell the
skipper to have everything ready. We shall have done our work by that
time; then hey for the open sea and freedom from the trammels of a
society life once more. You might drop a hint or two to certain people
that I am going, but be more than careful what you say. Write to the
agents about Portchester House, and attend to all the other necessary
details. You may leave me now."
Belton bowed, and left the cabin without another word. He knew his
master sufficiently well to feel certain that neither entreaties nor
expostulations would make him abandon the course he had mapped out for
himself. That being so, he bowed to the inevitable with a grace which
had now become a habit to him.
When he was alone, Carne once more sat for upwards of an hour in earnest
thought. He then ordered his gig, and, when it was ready, set out for
the shore. Making his way to the telegraph office, he dispatched a
message which at any other and less busy, time, would have caused the
operator some astonishment. It was addressed to a Mahommedan dealer in
precious stones in Bombay, and contained only two words in addition to
the signature. They were:
"Leaving?--come."
He knew that they would reach the person for whom they were intended,
and that she would understand their meaning and act accordingly.
The dinner that night on board the Imperial yacht _Hohenszrallas_ was a
gorgeous affair in every sense of the word. All the principal
yacht-owners were present, and, at the conclusion of the banquet,
Carne's health as winner of the great event of the regatta, was proposed
by the Emperor himself, and drunk amid enthusiastic applause. It was a
proud moment for the individual in question, but he bore his honors with
that quiet dignity that had stood him in such good stead on so many
similar occasions. In his speech he referred to his approaching
departure from England, and this, the first inkling of such news, came
upon his audience like a thunder-clap. When they had taken leave of his
Majesty soon after midnight, and were standing on deck, waiting for
their respective boats to draw up to the accommodation ladder, Lord
Orpington made his way to where Simon Carne was standing.
"Is it really true that you intend leaving us so soon?" he asked.
"Quite true, unfortunately," Carne replied. "I had hoped to have
remained longer, but circumstances over which I have no control make it
imperative that I should return to India without delay. Business that
exercises a vital influence upon my fortunes compels me. I am therefore
obliged to leave without fail on Friday next. I have given orders to
that effect this afternoon."
"I am extremely sorry to hear it, that's all I can say," said Lord
Amberley, who had just come up. "I assure you we shall all miss you very
much indeed."
"You have all been extremely kind," said Carne, "and I have to thank you
for an exceedingly pleasant time. But, there, let us postpone
consideration of the matter for as long as possible. I think this is my
boat. Won't you let me take you as far as your own yacht?"
"Many thanks, but I don't think we need trouble you," said Lord
Orpington. "I see my gig is just behind yours."
"In that case, good-night," said Carne. "I shall see you as arranged,
to-morrow morning, I suppose?"
"At eleven," said Lord Amberley. "We'll call for you and go ashore
together. Good-night."
By the time Carne had reached his yacht he had made up his mind. He had
also hit upon a scheme, the daring of which almost frightened himself.
If only he could bring it off, he told himself, it would be indeed a
fitting climax to all he had accomplished since he had arrived in
England. Retiring to his cabin, he allowed Belton to assist him in his
preparations for the night almost without speaking. It was not until
the other was about to leave the cabin that he broached the subject that
was occupying his mind to the exclusion of all else.
"Belton," he said, "I have decided upon the greatest scheme that has
come into my mind yet. If Simon Carne is going to say farewell to the
English people on Friday next, and it succeeds, he will leave them a
legacy to think about for some time after he has gone."
"You are surely not going to attempt anything further, sir," said Belton
in alarm. "I did hope, sir, that you would have listened to my
entreaties this afternoon."
"It was impossible for me to do so," said Carne. "I am afraid; Belton,
you are a little lacking in ambition. I have noticed that on the last
three occasions you have endeavored to dissuade me from my endeavors to
promote the healthy excitement of the English reading public. On this
occasion fortunately, I am able to withstand you. To-morrow morning you
will commence preparations for the biggest piece of work to which I have
yet put my hand."
"If you have set your mind upon doing it, sir, I am quite aware that it
is hopeless for me to say anything," said Belton resignedly. "May I
know, however, what it is going to be?"
Carne paused for a moment before he replied.
"I happen to know that the Emperor of Westphalia, whose friendship I
have the honor to claim," he said, "has a magnificent collection of gold
plate on board his yacht. It is my intention, if possible, to become
the possessor of it."
"Surely that will be impossible, sir," said Belton. "Clever as you
undoubtedly are in arranging these things, I do not see how you can do
it. A ship at the best of times is such a public place, and they will
be certain to guard it very closely."
"I must confess that at first glance I do not quite see how it is to be
managed, but I have a scheme in my head which I think may possibly
enable me to effect my purpose. At any rate, I shall be able to tell
you more about it to-morrow. First, let us try a little experiment."
As he spoke he seated himself at his dressing-table, and bade Belton
bring him a box which had hitherto been standing in a corner. When he
opened it, it proved to be a pretty little cedar-wood affair divided
into a number of small compartments, each of which contained crepe hair
of a different color. Selecting a small portion from one, particular
compartment, he unravelled it until he had obtained the length he
wanted, and then with dexterous fingers constructed a moustache, which
he attached with spirit gum to his upper lip. Two or three twirls gave
it the necessary curl, then with a pair of ivory-backed brushes taken
from the dressing-table he brushed his hair back in a peculiar manner,
placed a hat of uncommon shape upon his head, took a heavy boat cloak
from a cupboard near at hand, threw it round his shoulders, and,
assuming an almost defiant expression, faced Belton, and desired him to
tell him whom he resembled.
Familiar as he was with his master's marvelous power of disguise and his
extraordinary faculty of imitation, the latter could not refrain from
expressing his astonishment.
"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Westphalia," he said. "The
likeness is perfect."
"Good," said Carne. "From that exhibition you will gather something of
my plan. To-morrow evening, as you are aware, I am invited to meet his
Majesty, who is to dine ashore accompanied by his aide-de-camp, Count
Von Walzburg. Here is the latter's photograph. He possesses, as you
know, a very decided personality, which is all in our favor. Study it
carefully."
So saying, he took from a drawer a photograph, which he propped against
the looking-glass on the dressing-table before him. It represented a
tall, military-looking individual, with bristling eyebrows, a large
nose, a heavy grey moustache, and hair of the same color. Belton
examined it carefully.
"I can only suppose, sir," he said, "that as you are telling me this,
you intend me to represent Count Von Walzburg."
"Exactly," said Carne. "That is my intention. It should not be at all
difficult. The Count is just your height and build. You will only need
the moustache, the eyebrows, the grey hair, and the large nose, to look
the part exactly. To-morrow will be a dark night, and, if only I can
control circumstances sufficiently to obtain the chance I want,
detection, in the first part of our scheme at any rate, should be more
unlikely, if not almost impossible."
"You'll excuse my saying so, I hope, sir," said Belton, "but it seems a
very risky game to play when we have done so well up to the present."
"You must admit that the glory will be the greater, my friend, if we
succeed."
"But surely, sir, as I said just now, they keep the plate you mention in
a secure place, and have it properly guarded."
"I have made the fullest inquiries, you may be sure. It is kept in a
safe in the chief steward's cabin, and, while it is on board, a sentry
is always on duty at the door. Yes, all things considered, I should say
it is kept in a remarkably secure place."
"Then, sir, I'm still at a loss to see how you are going to obtain
possession of it."
Carne smiled indulgently. It pleased him to see how perplexed his
servant was.
"In the simplest manner possible," he said, "provided always that I can
get on board the yacht without my identity being questioned. The manner
in which we are to leave the vessel will be rather more dangerous, but
not sufficiently so to cause us any great uneasiness. You are a good
swimmer, I know, so that a hundred yards should not hurt you. You must
also have a number of stout canvas sacks, say six prepared, and securely
attached to each the same number of strong lines; the latter must be
fifty fathoms long, and have at the end of each a stout swivel-hook. The
rest is only a matter of detail. Now, what have you arranged with
regard to matters in town?"
"I have fulfilled your instructions, sir, to the letter," said Belton.
"I have communicated with the agents who act for the owner of
Portchester House. I have caused an advertisement to be inserted in all
the papers to-morrow morning to the effect that the renowned detective
Klimo, will be unable to meet his clients for at least a month, owing to
the fact that he has accepted an important engagement upon the
Continent, which will take him from home for that length of time. I
have negotiated the sale of the various horses you have in training, and
I have also arranged for the disposal of the animals and carriages you
have now in use in London. Ram Gafur and the other native servants at
Portchester House will come down by the mid-day train to-morrow, but
before they do so, they will fulfill your instructions and repair the
hole in the wall between the two houses. I cannot think of any more,
sir."
"You have succeeded admirably, my dear Belton," said Carne, "and I am
very pleased. To-morrow you had better see that a paragraph is inserted
in all the daily papers announcing the fact that it is my intention to
leave England for India immediately, on important private business. I
think that will do for to-night."
Next morning he was up by sunrise, and, by the time his friends Lords
Orpington and Amberley were thinking about breakfast, had put the
finishing touches to the scheme which was to bring his career in England
to such a fitting termination.
According to the arrangement entered into on the previous day his
friends called for him at eleven o'clock, when they went ashore
together. It was a lovely morning, and Carne was in the highest
spirits. They visited the Castle together, made some purchases in the
town, and then went off to lunch on board Lord Orpington's yacht. It
was well-nigh three o'clock before Carne bade his host and hostess
farewell, and descended the gangway in order to return to his own
vessel. A brisk sea was running, and for this reason to step into the
boat was an exceedingly difficult if not a dangerous, matter. Either he
miscalculated his distance, or he must have jumped at the wrong moment;
at any rate, he missed his footing, and fell heavily on to the bottom.
Scarcely a second, however, had elapsed before his coxswain had sprung
to his assistance, and lifted him up on to the seat in the stern. It
was then discovered that he had been unfortunate enough to once more
give a nasty twist to the ankle which had brought him to such grief when
he had been staying at Greenthorpe Park on the occasion of the famous
wedding.
"My dear fellow, I am so sorry," said Lord Orpington, who had witnessed
the accident. "Won't you come on board again? We can easily hoist you
over the side."
"Many thanks," replied Carne, "but I think I can manage to get back to
my own boat. It is better I should do so. My man has had experience of
my little ailments, and knows exactly what is best to be done under such
circumstances; but it is a terrible nuisance, all the same. I'm afraid
it will be impossible for me now to be present at his Royal Highness's
dinner this evening, and I have been looking forward to it so much."
"We shall all be exceedingly sorry," said Lord Amberley. "I shall come
across in the afternoon to see how you are."
"You are very kind," said Carne, "and I shall be immensely glad to see
you if you can spare the time."
With that he gave the signal to his man to push off. By the time he
reached his own yacht his foot was so painful that it was necessary for
him to be lifted on board--a circumstance which was duly noticed by the
occupants of all the surrounding yachts, who had brought their glasses
to bear upon him. Once below in his saloon, he was placed in a
comfortable chair and left to Belton's careful attention.
"I trust you have not hurt yourself very much, sir," said that faithful
individual, who, however, could not prevent a look of satisfaction
coming into his face, which seemed to say that he was not ill-pleased
that his master would, after all, be prevented from carrying out the
hazardous scheme he had proposed to him the previous evening.
In reply Carne sprang to his feet without showing a trace of lameness.
"My dear Belton, how peculiarly dense you are to-day," he said, with a
smile, as he noticed the other's amazement. "Cannot you see that I have
only been acting as you yourself wished I should do early this
morning--namely, taking precautions? Surely you must see that, if I am
laid up on board my yacht with a sprained ankle, Society will say that
it is quite impossible for me to be doing any mischief elsewhere. Now,
tell me, is everything prepared for to-night?"
"Everything, sir," Belton replied. "The dresses and wigs are ready.
The canvas sacks, and the lines to which the spring hooks are attached,
are in your cabin awaiting your inspection. As far as I can see,
everything is prepared, and I hope will meet with your satisfaction."
"If you are as careful as usual I feel sure it will," said Carne. "Now
get some bandages and make this foot of mine up into as artistic a
bundle as you possibly can. After that help me on deck and prop me up
in a chair. As soon as my accident gets known there will be certain to
be shoals of callers on board, and I must play my part as carefully as
possible."
Day closed in and found the sky covered with heavy clouds. Towards
eight o'clock a violent storm of rain fell, and when Carne heard it
beating upon the deck above his cabin, and reflected that in consequence
the night would in all probability be dark, he felt his lucky star was
indeed in the ascendant.
At half-past eight he retired to his cabin with Belton, in order to
prepare for the events of the evening. Never before had he paid such
careful attention to his make-up. He knew that on this occasion the
least carelessness might lead to detection, and he had no desire that
his last and greatest exploit should prove his undoing.
It was half-past nine before he and his servant had dressed and were
ready to set off. Then placing broad-brimmed hats upon their heads, and
carrying a portmanteau containing the cloaks and headgear which they
were to wear later in the evening, they went on deck and descended into
the dinghy which was waiting for them alongside. In something under a
quarter of an hour they had been put ashore in a secluded spot, had
changed their costumes, and were walking boldly down beside the water
towards the steps where they could see the Imperial launch still
waiting. Her crew were lolling about, joking and laughing, secure in
the knowledge that it would be some hours at least before their
sovereign would be likely to require their services again.
Their astonishment, therefore, may well be imagined when they saw
approaching them the two men whom they had only half-an-hour before
brought ashore. Stepping in and taking his seat under the shelter, his
Majesty ordered them to convey him back to the yacht with all speed.
The accent and voice were perfect, and it never for an instant struck
any one on board the boat that a deception was being practiced. Carne,
however, was aware that this was only a preliminary; the most dangerous
portion of the business was yet to come.
On reaching the yacht, he sprang out on the ladder, followed by his
aide-de-camp, Von Walzburg, and mounted the steps. His disguise must
have been perfect indeed, for when he reached the deck he found himself
face to face with the first lieutenant, who, on seeing him, saluted
respectfully. For a moment Carne's presence of mind almost deserted
him; then, seeing that he was not discovered, he determined upon a bold
piece of bluff. Returning the officer's salute with just the air he had
seen the Emperor use, he led him to suppose that he had important
reasons for coming on board so soon, and, as if to back this assertion
up, bade him send the chief steward to his cabin, and at the same time
had the sentry removed from his door and placed at the end of the large
saloon, with instructions to allow no one to pass until he was
communicated with again.
The officer saluted and went off on his errand, while Carne, signing to
Belton to follow him, made his way down the companion ladder to the
Royal cabins. To both the next few minutes seemed like hours. Reaching
the Imperial stateroom, they entered it, and closed the door behind.
Provided the sentry obeyed his orders, which there was no reason to
doubt he would do, and the Emperor himself did not return until they
were safely off the vessel again, there seemed every probability of
their being able to carry out their scheme without a hitch.
"Put those bags under the table, and unwind the lines and place them in
the gallery outside the window. They won't be seen there," said Carne
to Belton, who was watching him from the doorway. "Then stand by, for
in a few minutes the chief steward will be here. As soon as he enters
you must manage to get between him and the door, and, while I am
engaging him in conversation, spring on him, clutch him by the throat,
and hold him until I can force this gag into his mouth. After that we
shall be safe for some time at least, for not a soul will come this way
until they discover their mistake. It seems to me we ought to thank our
stars that the chief steward's cabin was placed in such a convenient
position. But hush, here comes the individual we want. Be ready to
collar him as soon as I hold up my hand. If he makes a sound we are
lost."
He had scarcely spoken before there was a knock at the door. When it
opened, the chief steward entered the cabin, closing the door behind
him.
"Schmidt," said his Majesty, who was standing at the further end of the
cabin, "I have sent for you in order that I may question you on a matter
of the utmost importance. Draw nearer."
The man came forward as he was ordered, and, having done so, looked his
master full and fair in the face. Something he saw there seemed to
stagger him. He glanced at him a second time, and was immediately
confirmed in his belief.
"You are not the Emperor," he cried. "There is some treachery in this.
I shall call for assistance."
He had half turned, and was about to give the alarm, when Carne held up
his hand, and Belton, who had been creeping stealthily up behind him,
threw himself upon him and had clutched him by the throat before he
could utter a sound. The fictitious Emperor immediately produced a
cleverly constructed gag and forced it into the terrified man's mouth,
who in another second was lying upon the floor bound hand and foot.
"There, my friend," said Carne quietly, as he rose to his feet a few
moments later, "I don't think you will give us any further trouble. Let
me just see that those straps are tight enough, and then we'll place you
on this settee, and afterwards get to business with all possible
dispatch."
Having satisfied himself on these points, he signed to Belton and
between them they placed the man upon the couch.
"Let me see, I think, if I remember rightly, you carry the key of the
safe in this pocket."
So saying, he turned the man's pocket inside out and appropriated the
bunch of keys he found therein. Choosing one from it, he gave a final
look at the bonds which secured the prostrate figure, and then turned to
Belton.
"I think he'll do," he said. "Now for business. Bring the bags, and
come with me."
So saying, he crossed the cabin, and, having assured himself that there
was no one about to pry upon them, passed along the luxuriously carpeted
alley way until he arrived at the door of the cabin assigned to the use
of the chief steward, and in which was the safe containing the
magnificent gold plate, the obtaining of which was the reason of his
being there. To his surprise and chagrin, the door was closed and
locked. In his plans he had omitted to allow for this emergency. In all
probability, however, the key was in the man's pocket, so, turning to
Belton, he bade him return to the stateroom and bring him the keys he
had thrown upon the table.
The latter did as he was ordered, and, when he had disappeared, Carne
stood alone in the alley way waiting and listening to the various noises
of the great vessel. On the deck overhead he could hear some one
tramping heavily up and down, and then, in an interval of silence, the
sound of pouring rain. Good reason as he had to be anxious, he could
not help smiling as he thought of the incongruity of his position. He
wondered what his aristocratic friends would say if he were captured and
his story came to light. In his time he had impersonated a good many
people, but never before had he had the honor of occupying such an
exalted station. This was the last and most daring of all his
adventures.
Minutes went by, and as Belton did not return, Carne found himself
growing nervous. What could have become of him? He was in the act of
going in search of him, when he appeared carrying in his hand the bunch
of keys for which he had been sent. His master seized them eagerly.
"Why have you been so long?" he asked in a whisper. "I began to think
something had gone wrong with you."
"I stayed to make our friend secure," the other answered. "He had
well-nigh managed to get one of his hands free. Had he done so, he
would have had the gag out of his mouth in no time, and have given the
alarm. Then we should have been caught like rats in a trap."
"Are you quite sure he is secure now?" asked Carne anxiously.
"Quite," replied Belton, "I took good care of that."
"In that case we had better get to work on the safe without further
delay. We have wasted too much time already, and every moment is an
added danger."
Without more ado, Carne placed the most likely key in the lock and
turned it. The bolt shot back, and the treasure chamber lay at his
mercy.
The cabin was not a large one, but it was plain that every precaution
had been taken to render it secure. The large safe which contained the
Imperial plate, and which it was Carne's intention to rifle, occupied
one entire side. It was of the latest design, and when Carne saw it he
had to confess to himself that, expert craftsman as he was, it was one
that would have required all his time and skill to open.
With the master key, however, it was the work of only a few seconds.
The key was turned, the lever depressed, and then, with a slight pull,
the heavy door swung forward. This done, it was seen that the interior
was full to overflowing.
"Come, Belton," he said, "get these things out as quickly as possible
and lay them on the floor. We can carry only away a certain portion of
the plunder, so let us make sure that that portion is the best."
A few moments later the entire cabin was strewn with salvers, goblets,
bowls, epergnes, gold and silver dishes, plates, cups, knives, forks,
and almost every example of the goldsmith's art. In his choice Carne
was not guided by what was handsomest or most delicate in workmanship or
shape. Weight was his only standard. Silver he discarded altogether,
for it was of less than no account. In something under ten minutes he
had made his selection, and the stout canvas bags they had brought with
them for that purpose were full to their utmost holding capacity.
"We can carry no more," said Carne to his faithful retainer, as they
made the mouth of the last bag secure. "Pick up yours and let us get
back to the Emperor's stateroom."
Having locked the door of the cabin, they returned to the place whence
they had started. There they found the unfortunate steward lying on the
settee. Placing the bags he carried upon the ground, Carne crossed to
him, and, before doing anything else, carefully examined the bonds with
which he was secured. Having done this, he went to the stern windows,
and, throwing one open, stepped into the gallery outside. Fortunately
for what he intended to do, it was still raining heavily, and in
consequence the night was as dark as the most consummate conspirator
could have desired. Returning to the room, he bade Belton help him
carry the bags into the gallery, and, when this had been done, made fast
the swivel-hooks to the rings in the mouth of each.
"Take up your bags as quietly as possible," he said, "and lower them one
by one into the water, but take care that they don't get entangled in
the propeller. When you've done that, slip the rings at the other end
of the lines through your belt, and buckle the latter tightly."
Belton did as he was ordered, and in a few moments the six bags were
lying at the bottom of the sea.
"Now off with these wigs and things, and say when you're ready for a
swim."
Their disguises having been discarded and thrown overboard, Carne and
Belton clambered over the rails of the gallery and lowered themselves
until their feet touched the water. Next moment they had both let go,
and were swimming in the direction of Carne's own yacht.
Much exhausted, they reached the yacht's stern and clutched at the rope
ladder which Carne had himself placed there before he had set out on the
evening's excursion. In less time than it takes to tell, he had mounted
it and gained the deck, followed by his faithful servant. They
presented a sorry spectacle as they stood side by side at the taffrail,
the water dripping from their clothes and pattering upon the deck.
"Thank goodness we are here at last," said Carne, as soon as he had
recovered his breath sufficiently to speak. "Now slip off your belt,
and hang it over this cleat with mine."
Belton did as he was directed, and then followed his master to the
saloon companion ladder. Once below, they changed their clothes as
quickly as possible, and having donned mackintoshes, returned to the
deck, where it was still raining hard.
"Now," said Carne, "for the last and most important part of our
evening's work. Let us hope the lines will prove equal to the demands
we are about to make upon them."
As he said this, he took one of the belts from his cleat upon which he
had placed it, and having detached a line, began to pull it in, Belton
following his example with another. Their hopes that they would prove
equal to the confidence placed in them proved well founded, for, in
something less than a quarter of an hour, the six bags, containing the
Emperor of Westphalia's magnificent gold plate, were lying upon the
deck, ready to be carried below and stowed away in the secret place in
which Carne had arranged to hide his treasure.
"Now, Belton," said Carne, as he pushed the panel back into its place,
and pressed the secret spring that locked it, "I hope you're satisfied
with what we have done. We've made a splendid haul, and you shall have
your share of it. In the meantime, just get me to bed as quickly as you
can, for I'm dead tired. When you've done so, be off to your own.
To-morrow morning you will have to go up town to arrange with the bank
authorities about my account."
Belton did as he was ordered and half-an-hour later his master was
safely in bed and asleep.
It was late next morning when he awoke. He had scarcely breakfasted
before the Earl of Amberley and Lord Orpington made their appearance
over the side. To carry out the part he had arranged to play, he
received them seated in his deck chair, his swaddled-up right foot
reclining on a cushion before him. On seeing his guests, he made as if
he would rise, but they begged him to remain seated.
"I hope your ankle is better this morning," said Lord Orpington
politely, as he took a chair beside his friend.
"Much better, thank you," Carne replied. "It was not nearly so serious
as I feared. I hope to be able to hobble about a little this afternoon.
And now tell me the news, if there is any."
"Do you mean to say that you have not heard the great news?" asked Lord
Amberley, in a tone of astonishment.
"I have heard nothing," Carne replied. "Remember, I have not been
ashore this morning, and I have been so busily engaged with the
preparations for my departure to-morrow that I have not had time to look
at my papers. Pray what is this news of which you speak with such bated
breath?"
"Listen, and I'll tell you," Lord Orpington answered, and he related the
events of the previous night, Carne's face, in the meantime, showing
great astonishment.
"Good gracious?" said Carne. "I never heard of such a thing. Surely
it's the most impudent robbery that has taken place for many years past.
To represent the Emperor of Westphalia and his aide-de-camp so closely
that they could deceive even the officers of his own yacht, and to take
a sentry off one post and place him in such a position as to protect
them while at their own nefarious work, seems to me the very height of
audacity. But how did they get their booty away again? Gold plate,
under the most favorable circumstances, is by no means an easy thing to
carry."
As he asked this question, Carne lit another cigar with a hand as steady
as a rock.
"They must have escaped in a boat that, it is supposed, was lying under
the shelter of the stern gallery," replied Lord Amberley.
"And is the chief steward able to furnish the police with no clue as to
their identity?"
"None whatever," replied Orpington. "He opines to the belief, however,
that they are Frenchmen. One of them, the man who impersonated the
Emperor, seems to have uttered an exclamation in that tongue."
"And when was the robbery discovered?"
"Only when the real Emperor returned to the vessel shortly after
midnight. There was no launch to meet him, and he had to get Tremorden
to take him off. You can easily imagine the surprise his arrival
occasioned. It was intensified when they went below to find his
Majesty's cabin turned upside down, the chief steward lying bound and
gagged upon the sofa, and all that was most valuable of the gold plate
missing."
"What an extraordinary story!"
"And now, having told you the news with which the place is ringing, we
must be off about our business," said Orpington. "Is it quite certain
that you are going to leave us to-morrow?"
"Quite, I am sorry to say," answered Carne. "I am going to ask as many
of my friends as possible to do me the honor of lunching with me at one
o'clock, and at five I shall weigh anchor and bid England good-bye. I
shall have the pleasure of your company, I hope."
"I shall have much pleasure," said Orpington.
"And I also," replied Amberley.
"Then good-bye for the present. It's just possible I may see you again
during the afternoon."
The luncheon next day was as brilliant a social gathering as the most
fastidious in such matters could have desired. Every one then in Cowes
who had any claim to distinction was present, and several had undertaken
the journey from town in order to say farewell to one who had made
himself so popular during his brief stay in England. When Carne rose to
reply to the toast of his health, proposed by the Prime Minister, it was
observable that he was genuinely moved, as, indeed, were most of his
hearers.
For the remainder of the afternoon his yacht's deck was crowded with his
friends, all of whom expressed the hope that it might not be very long
before he was amongst them once more.
To these kind speeches Carne invariably offered a smiling reply.
"I also trust it will not be long," he answered. "I have enjoyed my
visit immensely, and you may be sure I shall never forget it as long as
I live."
An hour later the anchor was weighed, and his yacht was steaming out of
the harbor amid the scene of intense enthusiasm. As the Prime Minister
had that afternoon informed him, in the public interest, the excitement
of his departure was dividing the honors of the burglary of the Emperor
of Westphalia's gold plate.
Carne stood beside his captain on the bridge, watching the little fleet
of yachts until his eyes could no longer distinguish them. Then he
turned to Belton, who had just joined him, and, placing his hand upon
his shoulder, said:
"So much for our life in England, Belton, my friend. It has been
glorious fun, and no one can deny that from a business point of view it
has been eminently satisfactory. You, at least, should have no
regrets."
"None whatever," answered Belton. "But I must confess I should like to
know what they will say when the truth comes out."
Carne smiled sweetly as he answered:
"I think they'll say that, all things considered, I have won the right
to call myself 'A Prince of Swindlers.'"
THE END.