CONTAINS SOME STARTLING STATEMENTS
ENID, recognising Walter, shrank back instantly in fear and shame, while
Weirmarsh started at that unexpected meeting with the man whom he knew to
be his bitterest and most formidable opponent.
The small crowd of excited onlookers, ignorant of the true facts, but
their curiosity aroused by the unusual circumstances, had prevented the
pair from turning back and making a hurried escape.
"Enid!" exclaimed Fetherston, as the girl reluctantly crossed the
threshold with downcast head, "what is the meaning of this? Why are you
paying a visit to this house at such an hour?"
"Ah, Walter," she cried, her small, gloved hands clenched with a sudden
outburst of emotion, "be patient and hear me! I will tell you
everything--_everything_!"
"You won't," growled the doctor sharply. "If you do, by Gad! it will be
the worse for you! So you'd best keep a silent tongue--otherwise you
know the consequences. I shall now tell the truth--and you won't like
that!"
She drew back in terror of the man who held such an extraordinary
influence over her. She had grasped Fetherston's hand convulsively, but
at Weirmarsh's threat she had released her hold and was standing in the
hall, pale, rigid and staring.
"Summers," exclaimed Fetherston, turning to his companion, "you know this
person, eh?"
"Yes, sir, I should rather think I do," replied the man, with a grin.
"Well, detain him for the present, and take your instructions from
London."
"You have no power or right to detain me," declared the grey-faced doctor
in quick defiance. "You are not a police officer!"
"No, but this is a police officer," Fetherston replied, indicating
Summers, and adding: "Sergeant, I give that man into custody."
The sergeant advanced and laid his big hand upon the doctor's shoulder,
telling him to consider himself under arrest.
"But this is abominable--outrageous!" Weirmarsh cried, shaking him off.
"I've committed no offence."
"That is a matter for later consideration," calmly replied the man who
had devoted so much of his time and money to the investigation of
mysteries of crime.
In one of the bare bedrooms upstairs Fetherston had, in examining one of
the well made hand-presses set up there, found beside it a number of
one-pound Treasury notes. In curiosity he took one up, and found it to be
in an unfinished state. It was printed in green, without the brown
colouring. Yet it was perfect as regards the paper and printing--even to
its black serial number.
Next second the truth flashed upon him. The whole apparatus, presses and
everything, had been set up there to print the war paper currency of
Great Britain!
In the room adjoining he had seen bundles of slips of similar paper, all
neatly packed in elastic bands, and waiting the final process of
colouring and toning. One bundle had only the Houses of Parliament
printed; the other side was blank. He saw in a flash that the placing in
circulation of such a huge quantity of Treasury notes, amounting to
hundreds of thousands of pounds, must seriously damage the credit of the
nation.
For a few seconds he held an unfinished note in his hand examining it,
and deciding that the imitation was most perfect. It deceived him and
would undoubtedly deceive any bank-teller.
In those rooms it was plain that various processes had been conducted,
from the manipulation of the watermark, by a remarkably ingenious
process, right down to the finished one-pound note, so well done that not
even an expert could detect the forgery. There were many French
one-hundred-franc notes as well.
The whole situation was truly astounding. Again the thought hammered
home: such a quantity of paper in circulation must affect the national
finances of Britain. And at the head of the band who were printing and
circulating those spurious notes was the mysterious medical man who
carried on his practice in Pimlico!
The scene within the sparsely furnished house containing those telltale
presses was indeed a weird one.
Somebody had found a cheap paraffin lamp and lit it in the sitting-room,
where they were all assembled, the front door having been closed.
It was apparent that Pietro was no stranger to the doctor and his fair
companion, but both men were highly resentful that they had been so
entrapped.
"Doctor Weirmarsh," exclaimed Fetherston seriously, as he stood before
him, "I have just examined this house and have ascertained what it
contains."
"You've told him!" cried the man, turning fiercely upon Enid. "You have
betrayed me! Ah! It will be the worse for you--and for your family," he
added harshly. "You will see! I shall now reveal the truth concerning
your stepfather, and you and your family will be held up to opprobrium
throughout the whole length and breadth of your land."
Enid did not reply. She was pale as death, her face downcast, her lips
white as marble. She knew, alas! that Weirmarsh, now that he was
cornered, would not spare her.
There was a pause--a very painful pause.
Everyone next instant listened to a noise which sounded outside. As it
grew nearer it grew more distinct--the whir of an approaching motor-car.
It pulled up suddenly before the door, and a moment later the old bell
clanged loudly through the half-empty house.
Fetherston left the room, and going to the door, threw it open, when yet
another surprise awaited him.
Upon the steps stood four men in thick overcoats, all of whom Walter
instantly recognised.
With Trendall stood Sir Hugh Elcombe, while their companions were two
detective-inspectors from Scotland Yard.
"Hallo!--Fetherston!" gasped Trendall. "I--I expected to find Weirmarsh
here! What has happened?"
"The doctor is already here," was the other's quick reply. "I have found
some curious things in this place! Secret printing-presses for forged
notes."
"We already know that," he said. "Sir Hugh Elcombe here has, unknown to
us, obtained certain knowledge, and to-day he came to me and gave me a
full statement of what has been in progress. What he has told me this
afternoon is among the most valuable and reliable information that we
ever received."
"I know something of the scoundrels," remarked the old general,
"because--well, because, as I have confessed to Mr. Trendall, I yielded
to temptation long ago and assisted them."
"Whatever you have done, Sir Hugh, you have at least revealed to us the
whole plot. Only by pretending to render assistance to these scoundrels
could you have gained the intensely valuable knowledge which you've
imparted to me to-day," replied the keen-faced director from Scotland
Yard.
Fetherston realised instantly that the fine old fellow, whom he had
always held in such esteem, was making every effort to atone for his
conduct in the past; but surely that was not the moment to refer to
it--so he ushered the four men into the ill-lit dining-room wherein the
others were standing, none knowing how next to act.
When the doctor and Sir Hugh faced each other there was a painful silence
for a few seconds.
To Weirmarsh Trendall was known by sight, therefore the criminal saw that
the game was up, and that Sir Hugh had risked his own reputation in
betraying him.
"You infernal scoundrel!" cried the doctor angrily. "You--to whom I have
paid so many thousands of pounds--have given me away! But I'll be even
with you!"
"Say what you like," laughed the old general in defiance. "To me it is
the same whatever you allege. I have already admitted my slip from the
straight path. I do not deny receiving money from your hands, nor do I
deny that, in a certain measure, I have committed serious
offences--because, having taken one step, you forced me on to others,
always holding over me the threat of exposure and ruin. But,
fortunately, one day, in desperation, I took Enid yonder into my
confidence. It was she who suggested that I might serve the ends of
justice, and perhaps atone for what I had already done, by learning your
secrets, and, when the time was ripe, revealing all the interesting
details to our authorities. Enid became your friend and the friend of
your friends. She risked everything--her honour, her happiness, her
future--by associating with you for the one and sole purpose of assisting
me to learn all the dastardly plot in progress."
"It was you who supplied Paul Le Pontois with the false notes he passed
in France!" declared Weirmarsh. "The French police know that; and if ever
you or your step-daughter put foot in France you will be arrested."
"Evidently you are unaware, Doctor, that my son-in-law, Paul Le Pontois,
was released yesterday," laughed Sir Hugh in triumph. "Your treachery,
which is now known by the Sûreté, defeated its own ends."
"Further," remarked Walter Fetherston, turning to Enid, "it was this man
here"--and he indicated the grey-faced doctor of Pimlico--"this man who
denounced you and Sir Hugh to the French authorities, and had you not
heeded my warning you both would then have been arrested. He had
evidently suspected the object of your friendliness with me--that you
both intended to reveal the truth--and he adopted that course in order to
secure your incarceration in a foreign prison, and so close your lips."
"I knew you suspected me all along, Walter," replied the girl, standing a
little aside and suddenly clutching his hand. "But you will forgive me
now--forgive me, won't you?" she implored, looking up into his dark,
determined face.
"Of course," he replied, "I have already forgiven you. I had no idea of
the true reason of your association with this man."
And he raised her gloved hand and carried it gallantly to his eager lips.
"Though more than mere suspicion has rested upon you," he went on, "you
and your stepfather deserve the heartiest thanks of the nation for
risking everything in order to be in a position to reveal this dastardly
financial plot. That man there"--and he indicated the doctor--"deserves
all he'll get!"
The doctor advanced threateningly, and, drawing a big automatic revolver
from his pocket, would have fired at the man who had spoken his mind so
freely had not Deacon, quick as lightning, sprung forward and wrenched
the weapon so that the bullet went upward.
White with anger and chagrin, the doctor stood roundly abusing the man
who had investigated that lonely house.
But Fetherston laughed, which only irritated him the more. He raved like
a caged lion, until the veins in his brow stood out in great knots; but,
finding all protests and allegations useless, he at last became quiet
again, and apparently began to review the situation from a purely
philosophical standpoint, until, some ten minutes later, another
motor-car dashed up and in it were an inspector and four plain-clothes
constables, who had been sent over from Maldon in response to Deacon's
message for assistance.
When they entered Pietro became voluble, but the narrow-eyed doctor of
Pimlico remained sullen and silent, biting his lips. He saw that he had
been entrapped by the very man whom he had believed to be as clay in his
hands.
The scene was surely exciting as well as impressive. The half-furnished,
ill-lit dining-room was full of excited men, all talking at once.
Unnoticed, Walter drew Enid into the shadow, and in a few brief,
passionate words reassured her of his great affection.
"Ah!" she cried, bursting into hot tears, "your words, Walter, have
lifted a great load of sorrow and apprehension from my mind, for I feared
that when you knew the truth you would never, never forgive."
"But I have forgiven," he whispered, pressing her hand.
"Then wait until we are alone, and I will tell you everything. Ah! you do
not know, Walter, what I have suffered--what a terrible strain I have
sustained in these days of terror!"
But scarcely had she uttered those words when the door reopened and a man
was ushered in by Deacon, who had gone out in response to the violent
ringing of the bell.
"This is Mr. Bailey, tenant of the house, gentlemen," said the sergeant,
introducing him with mock politeness.
Fetherston glanced up, and to his surprise saw standing in the doorway a
man he had known, and whose movements he had so closely followed--the man
who had gone to Monte Carlo for instructions, and perhaps payment--the
man who had passed as Monsieur Granier!