DR. NIKOLA PERMITS US A FREE PASSAGE
The old saying, "Don't count your chickens before they're hatched," is
as good a warning as any I know. For if we had not been so completely
occupied filing through the staples of our collars we should not have
omitted to take into consideration the fact that, even when we should
have removed the chains that bound us, we would still be prisoners in
the room. I'm very much afraid, however, even had we remembered this
point, we should only have considered it of minor importance and one to
be easily overcome. As it was, the unwelcome fact remained that the door
_was_ locked, and, what was worse, that the lock itself had, for
security's sake, been placed on the outside, so that there was no chance
of our being able to pick it, even had our accomplishments lain in that
direction.
"Try the window," whispered Beckenham, in answer to the heavy sigh which
followed my last discovery.
Accordingly we crossed the room, and I put my hands upon one of the
boards and pulled. But I might as well have tried to tow a troopship
with a piece of cotton, for all the satisfactory result I got; the
planks were trebly screwed to the window frame, and each in turn defied
me. When I was tired Beckenham put his strength to it, but even our
united efforts were of no avail, and, panting and exhausted, we were at
length obliged to give it up as hopeless.
"This is a pretty fix we've got ourselves into," I said as soon as I had
recovered sufficient breath to speak. "How on earth are we to escape?"
"I can't say, unless we manage to burst that door and fight our way out.
I wonder if that could be done."
"First, let's look at the door."
We crossed the room again, and I examined the door carefully. It was not
a very strong one; but I was sufficient of a carpenter to know that it
would withstand a good deal of pressure before it would give way.
"I've a good mind to try it," I said; "but in that case, remember, it
will probably mean a hand-to-hand fight on the other side, and, unarmed
and weak as we are, we shall be pretty sure to get the worst of it."
"Never mind that," my intrepid companion replied, with a confidence in
his voice that I was very far from feeling. "In for a penny, in for a
pound; even if we're killed it couldn't be worse than being buried
alive."
"That's so, and if fighting's your idea, I'm your man," I answered. "Let
me first take my bearings, and then I'll see what I can do against it.
You get out of the way, but be sure to stand by to rush the passage
directly the door goes."
Again I felt the door and wall in order that I might be sure where it
lay, and having done so crossed the room. My heart was beating like a
Nasmyth hammer, and it was nearly a minute before I could pull myself
together sufficiently for my rush. Then summoning every muscle in my
body to my assistance, I dashed across and at it with all the strength
my frame was capable of. Considering the darkness of the room, my
steering was not so bad, for my shoulder caught the door just above its
centre; there was a great crash--a noise of breaking timbers--and amid a
shower of splinters and general _débris_ I fell headlong through into
the passage. By the time it would have taken me to count five, Beckenham
was beside me helping me to rise.
"Now stand by for big trouble!" I said, rubbing my shoulder, and every
moment expecting to see a door open and a crowd of Prendergast's
ruffians come rushing out. "We shall have them on us in a minute."
But to our intense astonishment it was all dead silence. Not a sound of
any single kind, save our excited breathing, greeted our ears. We might
have broken into an empty house for all we knew the difference.
For nearly five minutes we stood, side by side, waiting for the battle
which did not come.
"What on earth does it mean?" I asked my companion. "That crash of mine
was loud enough to wake the dead. Can they have deserted the place,
think you, and left us to starve?"
"I can't make it out any more than you can," he answered. "But don't you
think we'd better take advantage of their not coming to find a way out?"
"Of course. One of us had better creep down the passage and discover how
the land lies. As I'm the stronger, I'll go. You wait here."
I crept along the passage, treading cautiously as a cat, for I knew that
both our lives depended on it. Though it could not have been more than
sixty feet, it seemed of interminable length, and was as black as night.
Not a glimmer of light, however faint, met my eyes.
On and on I stole, expecting every moment to be pounced upon and seized;
but no such fate awaited me. If, however, our jailers did not appear,
another danger was in store for me.
In the middle of my walk my feet suddenly went from under me, and I
found myself falling I knew not where. In reality it was only a drop of
about three feet down a short flight of steps. Such a noise as my fall
made, however, was surely never heard, but still no sound came. Then
Beckenham fumbled his way cautiously down the steps to my side, and
whispered an inquiry as to what had happened. I told him in as few words
as possible, and then struggled to my feet again.
Just as I did so my eyes detected a faint glimmer of light low down on
the floor ahead of us. From its position it evidently emanated from the
doorway of a room.
"Oh! if we only had a match," I whispered.
"It's no good wishing," said Beckenham. "What do you advise?"
"It's difficult to say," I answered; "but I should think we'd better
listen at that door and try to discover if there is any one inside. If
there is, and he is alone, we must steal in upon him, let him see that
we are desperate, and, willy-nilly, force him to show us a way out. It's
ten chances to one, if we go on prowling about here, we shall stumble
upon the whole nest of them--then we'll be caught like rats in a trap.
What do you think?"
"I agree with you. Go on."
Without further ado we crept towards the light, which, as I expected,
came from under a door, and listened. Some one was plainly moving about
inside; but though we waited for what seemed a quarter of an hour, but
must in reality have been less than a minute and a half, we could hear
no voices.
"Whoever he is, he's alone--that's certain," whispered my companion.
"Open the door softly, and we'll creep in upon him."
In answer, and little by little, a cold shiver running down my back lest
it should creak and so give warning to the person within, I turned the
handle, pushed open the door, and we looked inside. Then--but, my
gracious! if I live to be a thousand I shall never forget the sight that
met my eyes.
The room itself was a long and low one: its measurements possibly sixty
feet by fifteen. The roof--for there was no ceiling--was of wood,
crossed by heavy rafters, and much begrimed with dirt and smoke. The
floor was of some highly polished wood closely resembling oak, and was
completely bare. But the shape and construction of the room itself were
as nothing compared with the strangeness of its furniture and occupants.
Words would fail me if I tried to give you a true and accurate
description of it. I only know that, strong man as I was, and used to
the horrors of life and death, what I saw before me then made my blood
run cold and my flesh creep as it had never done before.
To begin with, round the walls were arranged, at regular intervals, more
than a dozen enormous bottles, each of which contained what looked, to
me, only too much like human specimens pickled in some light-coloured
fluid resembling spirits of wine. Between these gigantic but more than
horrible receptacles were numberless smaller ones, holding other and
even more dreadful remains; while on pedestals and stands, bolt upright
and reclining, were skeletons of men, monkeys, and quite a hundred sorts
of animals. The intervening spaces were filled with skulls, bones, and
the apparatus for every kind of murder known to the fertile brain of
man. There were European rifles, revolvers, bayonets, and swords;
Italian stilettos, Turkish scimitars, Greek knives, Central African
spears and poisoned arrows, Zulu knobkerries, Afghan yataghans, Malay
krises, Sumatra blow-pipes, Chinese dirks, New Guinea head-catching
implements, Australian spears and boomerangs, Polynesian stone hatchets,
and numerous other weapons the names of which I cannot now remember.
Mixed up with them were implements for every sort of wizardry known to
the superstitious; from old-fashioned English love charms to African Obi
sticks, from spiritualistic planchettes to the most horrible of Fijian
death potions.
In the centre of the wall, opposite to where we stood, was a large
fireplace of the fashion usually met with in old English manor-houses,
and on either side of it a figure that nearly turned me sick with
horror. That on the right hand was apparently a native of Northern
India, if one might judge by his dress and complexion. He sat on the
floor in a constrained attitude, accounted for by the fact that his
head, which was at least three times too big for his body, was so heavy
as to require an iron tripod with a ring or collar in the top of it to
keep it from overbalancing him and bringing him to the floor. To add to
the horror of this awful head, it was quite bald; the skin was drawn
tensely over the bones, and upon this veins stood out as large as
macaroni stems.
On the other side of the hearth was a creature half-ape and
half-man--the like of which I remember once to have seen in a museum of
monstrosities in Sydney, where, if my memory serves me, he was described
upon the catalogue as a Burmese monkey-boy. He was chained to the wall
in somewhat the same fashion as we had been, and was chattering and
scratching for all the world like a monkey in a Zoo.
But, horrible as these things were, the greatest surprise of all was yet
to come. For, standing at the heavy oaken table in the centre of the
room, was a man I should have known anywhere if I had been permitted
half a glance at him. _It was Dr. Nikola._
When we entered he was busily occupied with a scalpel, dissecting an
animal strangely resembling a monkey. On the table, and watching the
work upon which his master was engaged, sat his constant companion, the
same fiendish black cat I have mentioned elsewhere; while at the end
nearest us, standing on tip-toe, the better to see what was going on,
was an albino dwarf, scarcely more than two feet eight inches high. So
stealthily, however, had our approach been made, and so carefully had I
opened the door, that we were well into the room before our appearance
was discovered, and also before I had realized into whose presence we
had stumbled. Then my foot touched a board that creaked, and Dr. Nikola
looked up from the work upon which he was engaged.
His pale, thin face did not show the slightest sign of surprise as he
said, in his usual placid tone,--
"So you have managed to escape from your room, gentlemen. Well, and pray
what do you want?"
For a moment I was so much overcome with surprise that my tongue refused
to perform its office. Then I said, advancing towards him as I spoke,
closely followed by the Marquis,--
"So, Dr. Nikola, we have met at last!"
"At last, Mr. Hatteras, as you say," this singular being replied, still
without showing a sign of either interest or embarrassment. "All things
considered, I suppose you would deem me ironical if I ventured to say
that I am pleased to see you about again. However, don't let me keep you
standing; won't you sit down? My lord, let me offer you a chair."
All this time we were edging up alongside the table, and I was making
ready for a rush at him. But he was not to be taken off his guard. His
extraordinary eyes had been watching me intently, taking in my every
movement; and a curious effect they had upon me.
"Dr. Nikola," I said, "the game is up. You beat me last time; but now
you must own I come out on top. Don't utter a word or call for
assistance--if you do you're a dead man. Now drop that knife you hold in
your hand, and show us the way out!"
The Marquis was on his right, I was on his left, and we were close upon
him as I spoke. Still he showed no sign of fear, though he must have
known the danger of his position. But his eyes glowed in his head like
living coals.
You will ask why we did not rush at him? Well, if I am obliged to own
it, I must--the truth was, such was the power that emanated from this
extraordinary man, that though we both knew the crucial moment of our
enterprise had arrived, while his eyes were fixed upon us, neither of us
could stir an inch. When he spoke his voice seemed to cut like a knife.
"So you think my game is up, Mr. Hatteras, do you? I'm afraid once more
I must differ from you. Look behind you."
I did so, and that glance showed me how cleverly we'd been trapped.
Leaning against the door, watching us with cruel, yet smiling eyes, was
our old enemy Prendergast, revolver in hand. Just behind me were two
powerful Soudanese, while near the Marquis was a man looking like a
Greek--and a very stalwart Greek at that. Observing our discomfiture,
Nikola seated himself in a big chair near the fireplace and folded his
hands in the curious fashion I have before described; as he did so his
black cat sprang to his shoulder and sat there watching us all. Dr.
Nikola was the first to speak.
"Mr. Hatteras," he said, with devilish clearness and deliberation, "you
should really know me better by this time than to think you could outwit
me so easily. Is my reputation after all so small? And, while I think of
it, pray let me have the pleasure of returning to you your five pound
note and your letters. Your mice were perfect messengers, were they
not?" As he spoke he handed me the selfsame Bank of England note I had
despatched through the pipe that very evening in payment for the file;
then he shook from a box he had taken from the chimney-piece all the
communications I had written imploring assistance from the outside
world. To properly estimate my chagrin and astonishment would be very
difficult. I could only sit and stare, first at the money and then at
the letters, in blankest amazement. So we had not been rescued by the
cripple after all. Was it possible that while we had been so busy
arranging our escape we had in reality been all the time under the
closest surveillance? If that were so, then this knowledge of our doings
would account for the silence with which my attack upon the door had
been received. Now we were in an even worse position than before. I
looked at Beckenham, but his head was down and his right hand was
picking idly at the table edge. He was evidently waiting for what was
coming next.
In sheer despair I turned to Nikola. "Since you have outwitted us again,
Dr. Nikola, do not play with us--tell us straight out what our fate is
to be."
"If it means going back to that room again," said Beckenham, in a voice
I hardly recognized, "I would far rather die and be done with it."
"Do not fear, my lord, you shall not die," Nikola said, turning to him
with a bow. "Believe me, you will live to enjoy many happier hours than
those you have been compelled to spend under my roof!"
"What do you mean?"
The doctor did not answer for nearly a moment; then he took what looked
to me suspiciously like a cablegram form from his pocket and carefully
examined it. Having done so, he said quietly,----
"Gentlemen, you ask what I mean? Well, I mean this--if you wish to leave
this house this very minute, you are free to do so on one condition!"
"And that condition is?"
"That you allow yourselves to be blindfolded in this room and conducted
by my servants to the harbour side. I must furthermore ask your words of
honour that you will not seek to remove your bandages until you are
given permission to do so. Do you agree to this?"
Needless to say we both signified our assent.
This free permission to leave the house was a second surprise, and one
for which we were totally unprepared.
"Then let it be so. Believe me, my lord Marquis, and you, Mr. Hatteras,
it is with the utmost pleasure I restore your liberty to you again!"
He made a sign to Prendergast, who instantly stepped forward. But I had
something to say before we were removed.
"One word first, Dr. Nikola. You have----"
"Mr. Hatteras, if you will be guided by me, you will keep a silent
tongue in your head. Let well alone. Take warning by the proverb, and
beware how you disturb a sleeping dog. Why I have acted as I have done
towards you, you may some day learn; in the meantime rest assured it was
from no idle motive. Now take me at my word, and go while you have the
chance. I may change my mind in a moment, and then----"
He stopped and did not say any more. At a sign, Prendergast clapped a
thick bandage over my eyes, while another man did the same for
Beckenham; a man on either side of me took my arms, and next moment we
had passed out of the room, and before I could have counted fifty were
in the cool air of the street.
How long we were walking, after leaving the house, I could not say, but
at last our escort called a halt. Prendergast was evidently in command,
for he said,--
"Gentlemen, before we leave you, you will renew your words of honour not
to remove your bandages for five full minutes?"
We complied with his request, and instantly our arms were released; a
moment later we heard our captors leaving us. The minutes went slowly
by. Presently Beckenham said,--
"How long do you think we've been standing here?"
"Nearly the stipulated time, I should fancy," I answered. "However, we'd
better give them a little longer, to avoid any chance of mistake."
Again a silence fell on us. Then I tore off my bandage, to find
Beckenham doing the same.
"They're gone, and we're free again," he cried. "Hurrah!"
We shook hands warmly on our escape, and having done so looked about us.
A ship's bell out in the stream chimed half an hour after midnight, and
a precious dark night it was. A number of vessels were to be seen, and
from the noise that came from them it was evident they were busy
coaling.
"What's to be done now?" asked Beckenham.
"Find an hotel, I think," I answered; "get a good night's rest, and
first thing in the morning hunt up our consul and the steamship
authorities."
"Come along, then. Let's look for a place. I noticed one that should
suit us close to where we came ashore that day."
Five minutes' walking brought us to the house we sought. The proprietor
was not very fastidious, and whatever he may have thought of our
appearances he took us in without demur. A bath and a good meal
followed, and then after a thorough overhauling of all the details
connected with our imprisonment we turned into bed, resolved to thrash
it out upon the morrow.
Next morning, true to our arrangement, as soon as breakfast was over, I
set off for the steamship company's office, leaving the Marquis behind
me at the hotel for reasons which had begun to commend themselves to me,
and which will be quite apparent to you.
I found the _Saratoga's_ agent hard at work in his private office. He
was a tall, thin man, slightly bald, wearing a pair of heavy gold
pince-nez, and very slow and deliberate in speech.
"I beg your pardon," he began, when I had taken possession of his
proffered chair, "but did I understand my clerk to say that your name
was Hatteras?"
"That is my name," I answered. "I was a passenger in the _Saratoga_ for
Australia three weeks ago, but had the misfortune to be left behind when
she sailed."
"Ah! I remember the circumstances thoroughly," he said. "The young
Marquis of Beckenham went ashore with you, I think, and came within an
ace of being also left behind."
"Within an ace!" I cried; "but he _was_ left behind."
"No, no! there you are mistaken," was the astounding reply; "he _would_
have been left behind had not his tutor and I gone ashore at the last
moment to look for him and found him wandering about on the outskirts of
Arab Town. I don't remember ever to have seen a man more angry than the
tutor was, and no wonder, for they only just got out to the boat again
as the gangway was being hauled aboard."
"Then you mean to tell me that the Marquis went on to Australia after
all!" I cried. "And pray how did this interesting young gentleman
explain the fact of his losing sight of me?"
"He lost you in a crowd, he said," the agent continued. "It was a most
extraordinary business altogether."
It certainly was, and even more extraordinary than he imagined. I could
hardly believe my ears. The world seemed to be turned upside down. I was
so bewildered that I stumbled out a few lame inquiries about the next
boat sailing for Australia, and what would be done with my baggage, and
then made my way as best I could out of the office. Hastening back to
the hotel, I told my story from beginning to end to my astonished
companion, who sat on his bed listening open-mouthed. When I had
finished he said feebly,--"But what does it all mean? Tell me that! What
does it mean?"
"It means," I answered, "that our notion about Nikola's abducting us in
order to blackmail your father was altogether wrong, and, if you ask me,
I should say not half picturesque enough. No, no! this mystery is a
bigger one by a hundred times than even we expected, and there are more
men in it than those we have yet seen. It remains with you to say
whether you will assist in the attempt to unravel it or not."
"What do you mean by saying it remains with me? Do I understand that you
intend following it up?"
"Of course I do. Nikola and Baxter between them have completely done
me--now I'm going to do my best to do them. By Jove!"
"What is it now?"
"I see it all as plain as a pikestaff. I understand exactly now why
Baxter came for you, why he telegraphed that the train was laid, why I
was drugged in Plymouth, why you were sea-sick between Naples and this
place, and why we were both kidnapped!"
"Then explain, for mercy's sake!"
"I will. See here. In the first place, remember your father's peculiar
education of yourself. If you consider that, you will see that you are
the only young nobleman of high rank whose face is not well known to his
brother peers. That being so, Nikola wants to procure you for some
purpose of his own in Australia. Your father advertises for a tutor; he
sends one of his agents--Baxter--to secure the position. Baxter, at
Nikola's instruction, puts into your head a desire for travel. You
pester your father for the necessary permission. Just as this is granted
I come upon the scene. Baxter suspects me. He telegraphs to Nikola 'The
train is laid,' which means that he has begun to sow the seeds of a
desire for travel, when a third party steps in--in other words, I am the
new danger that has arisen. He arranges your sailing, and all promises
to go well. Then Dr. Nikola finds out I intend going in the same boat.
He tries to prevent me; and I--by Jove! I see another thing. Why did
Baxter suggest that you should cross the Continent and join the boat at
Naples? Why, simply because if you had started from Plymouth you would
soon have got over your sickness, if you had ever been ill at all, and
in that case the passengers would have become thoroughly familiar with
your face by the time you reached Port Said. That would never have done,
so he takes you to Naples, drugs you next morning--for you must remember
you were ill after the coffee he gave you--and by that means kept you
ill and confined to your cabin throughout the entire passage to Port
Said. Then he persuades you to go ashore with me. You do so, with what
result you know. Presently he begins to bewail your non-return, invites
the agent to help in the search. They set off, and eventually find you
near the Arab quarter. You must remember that neither the agent, the
captain, nor the passengers have seen you, save at night, so the
substitute, who is certain to have been well chosen and schooled for the
part he is to play, is not detected. Then the boat goes on her way,
while we are left behind languishing in durance vile."
"What do you advise me to do? Remember, Baxter has letters to the
different Governors from my father."
"I know what I should do myself!"
"Go to the consul and get him to warn the authorities in Australia, I
suppose?"
"No. That would do little or no good--remember, they've got three weeks'
start of us."
"Then what shall we do? I'm in your hands entirely, and whatever you
advise I promise you I'll do."
"If I were you I should doff my title, take another name, and set sail
with me for Australia. Once there, we'll put up in some quiet place and
set ourselves to unmask these rascals and to defeat their little game,
whatever it may be. Are you prepared for so much excitement as that?"
"Of course I am. Come what may, I'll go with you, and there's my hand on
it."
"Then we'll catch the next boat--not a mail-steamer--that sails for an
Australian port, and once ashore there we'll set the ball a-rolling with
a vengeance."
"That scoundrel Baxter! I'm not vindictive as a rule, but I feel I
should like to punish him."
"Well, if they've not flown by the time we reach Australia, you'll
probably be able to gratify your wish. It's Nikola, however, I want."
Beckenham shuddered as I mentioned the Doctor's name. So to change the
subject I said,----
"I'm thinking of taking a little walk. Would you care to accompany me?"
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to try and find the house where we were shut up," I answered.
"I want to be able to locate it for future reference, if necessary."
"Is it safe to go near it, do you think?"
"In broad daylight, yes! But, just to make sure, we'll buy a couple of
revolvers on the way. And, what's more, if it becomes necessary, we'll
use them."
"Come along, then."
With that we left our hotel and set off in the direction of the Casino,
stopping, however, on the way to make the purchases above referred to.
We passed down one thoroughfare and up another, and at last reached the
spot where I had commented on the sign-boards, and where we had been
garrotted. Surely the house must be near at hand now? But though we
hunted high and low, up one street and down another, not a single trace
of any building answering the description of the one we wanted could we
discover. At last, after nearly an hour's search, we were obliged to
give it up, and return to our hotel, unsuccessful.
As we finished lunch a large steamer made her appearance in the harbour,
and brought up opposite the town. When we questioned our landlord, who
was an authority on the subject, he informed us that she was the s.s.
_Pescadore_, of Hull, bound to Melbourne.
Hearing this we immediately chartered a boat, pulled off to her, and
interviewed the captain. As good luck would have it, he had room for a
couple of passengers. We therefore paid the passage money, went ashore
again and provided ourselves with a few necessaries, rejoined her, and
shortly before nightfall steamed into the Canal. Port Said was a thing
of the past. Our eventful journey was resumed--what was the end of it
all to be?
_PART II_
CHAPTER I
WE REACH AUSTRALIA, AND THE RESULT
The _Pescadore_, if she was slow, was certainly sure, and so the
thirty-sixth day after our departure from Port Said, as recorded in the
previous chapter, she landed us safe and sound at Williamstown, which,
as all the Australian world knows, is one of the principal railway
termini, and within an hour's journey of Melbourne. Throughout the
voyage nothing occurred worth chronicling, if I except the curious
behaviour of Lord Beckenham, who, for the first week or so, seemed sunk
in a deep lethargy, from which neither chaff nor sympathy could rouse
him. From morning till night he mooned aimlessly about the decks, had
visibly to pull himself together to answer such questions as might be
addressed to him, and never by any chance sustained a conversation
beyond a few odd sentences. To such a pitch did this depression at last
bring him that, the day after we left Aden, I felt it my duty to take
him to task and to try to bully or coax him out of it.
"Come," I said, "I want to know what's the matter with you. You've been
giving us all the miserables lately, and from the look of your face at
the present moment I'm inclined to believe it's going to continue. Out
with it! Are you homesick, or has the monotony of this voyage been too
much for you?"
He looked into my face rather anxiously, I thought, and then said: "Mr.
Hatteras, I'm afraid you'll think me an awful idiot when I _do_ tell
you, but the truth is I've got Dr. Nikola's face on my brain, and do
what I will I cannot rid myself of it. Those great, searching eyes, as
we saw them in that terrible room, have got on my nerves, and I can
think of nothing else. They haunt me night and day!"
"Oh, that's all fancy!" I cried. "Why on earth should you be frightened
of him? Nikola, in spite of his demoniacal cleverness, is only a man,
and even then you may consider that we've seen the last of him. So cheer
up, take as much exercise as you possibly can, and believe me, you'll
soon forget all about him."
But it was no use arguing with him. Nikola had had an effect upon the
youth that was little short of marvellous, and it was not until we had
well turned the Leuwin, and were safely in Australian waters, that he in
any way recovered his former spirits.
And here, lest you should give me credit for a bravery I did not
possess, I must own that I was more than a little afraid of another
meeting with Nikola, myself. I had had four opportunities afforded me of
judging of his cleverness--once in the restaurant off Oxford Street,
once in the _Green Sailor_ public-house in the East India Dock Road,
once in the West of England express, and lastly, in the house in Port
Said. I had no desire, therefore, to come to close quarters with him
again.
Arriving in Melbourne we caught the afternoon express for Sydney,
reaching that city the following morning a little after breakfast. By
the time we had arrived at our destination we had held many
consultations over our future, and the result was a decision to look for
a quiet hotel on the outskirts of the city, and then to attempt to
discover what the mystery, in which we had been so deeply involved,
might mean. The merits of all the various suburbs were severally
discussed, though I knew but little about them, and the Marquis less.
Paramatta, Penrith, Woolahra, Balmain, and even many of the bays and
harbours, received attention, until we decided on the last named as the
most likely place to answer our purpose.
This settled, we crossed Darling harbour, and, after a little hunting
about, discovered a small but comfortable hotel situated in a side
street, called the _General Officer_. Here we booked rooms, deposited
our meagre baggage, and having installed ourselves, sat down and
discussed the situation.
"So this is Sydney," said Beckenham, stretching himself out comfortably
upon the sofa as he spoke. "And now that we've got here, what's to be
done first?"
"Have lunch," I answered promptly.
"And then?" he continued.
"Hunt up the public library and take a glimpse of the _Morning Herald's_
back numbers. They will tell us a good deal, though not all we want to
know. Then we'll make a few inquiries. To-morrow morning I shall ask you
to excuse me for a couple of hours. But in the afternoon we ought to
have acquired sufficient information to enable us to make a definite
start."
"Then let's have lunch at once and be off. I'm all eagerness to get to
work."
We accordingly ordered lunch, and, when it was finished, set off in
search of a public library. Having found it--and it was not a very
difficult matter--we sought the reading room and made for a stand of
_Sydney Morning Heralds_ in the corner. Somehow I felt as certain of
finding what I wanted there as any man could possibly be, and as it
happened I was not disappointed. On the second page, beneath a heading
in bold type, was a long report of a horse show, held the previous
afternoon, at which it appeared a large vice-regal and fashionable party
were present. The list included His Excellency the Governor and the
Countess of Amberley, the Ladies Maud and Ermyntrude, their daughters,
the Marquis of Beckenham, Captain Barrenden, an aide-de-camp, and Mr.
Baxter. In a voice that I hardly recognized as my own, so shaken was it
with excitement, I called Beckenham to my side and pointed out to him
his name. He stared, looked away, then stared again, hardly able to
believe his eyes.
"What does it mean?" he whispered, just as he had done in Port Said.
"What does it mean?"
I led him out of the building before I answered, and then clapped him on
the shoulder. "It means, my boy," I said, "that there's been a hitch in
their arrangements, and that we're not too late to circumvent them after
all."
"But where do you think they are staying--these two scoundrels?"
"At Government House, to be sure. Didn't you see that the report said,
'The Earl and Countess of Amberley and a distinguished party from
Government House, including the Marquis of Beckenham,' etc.?"
"Then let us go to Government House at once and unmask them. That is our
bounden duty to society."
"Then all I can say is, if it is our duty to society, society will have
to wait. No, no! We must find out first what their little game is. That
once decided, the unmasking will fall in as a natural consequence. Don't
you understand?"
"I am afraid I don't quite. However, I expect you're right."
By this time we were back again at the ferry. It was not time for the
boat to start, so while we waited we amused ourselves staring at the
placards pasted about on the wharf hoardings. Then a large theatrical
poster caught my eye and drew me towards it. It announced a grand
vice-regal "command" night at one of the principal theatres for that
very evening, and further set forth the fact that the most noble the
Marquis of Beckenham would be amongst the distinguished company.
"Here we are," I called to my companion, who was at a little distance.
"We'll certainly go to this. The Marquis of Beckenham shall honour it
with his patronage and presence after all."
We went back to our hotel for dinner, and as soon as it was eaten
returned to the city to seek the theatre.
When we entered it the building was crowded, and the arrival of the
Government House party was momentarily expected. Presently the Governor
and a brilliant party entered the vice-regal box. You may be sure of all
that vast concourse of people there were none who stared harder then
Beckenham and myself. And it was certainly enough to make any man stare,
for there, sitting on her ladyship's right hand, faultlessly dressed,
was the exact image of the young man by my side. The likeness was so
extraordinary that for a moment I could hardly believe that Beckenham
had not left me to go up and take his seat there. And if I was struck by
the resemblance, you may be sure that he was a dozen times more so.
Indeed, his bewilderment was most comical, and must have struck those
people round us, who were watching, as something altogether
extraordinary. I looked again, and could just discern behind the front
row the smug, self-satisfied face of the tutor Baxter. Then the play
commenced, and we were compelled to turn and give it our attention.
Here I must stop to chronicle one circumstance that throughout the day
had struck me as peculiar. When our vessel arrived at Williamstown, it
so happened that we had travelled up in the train to Melbourne with a
tall, handsome, well-dressed man of about thirty years of age. Whether
he, like ourselves, was a new arrival in the Colony, and only passing
through Melbourne, I cannot say; at any rate he went on to Sydney in the
mail train with us. Then we lost sight of him, only to find him standing
near the public library when we had emerged from it that afternoon, and
now here he was sitting in the stalls of the theatre not half a dozen
chairs from us. Whether this continual companionship was designed or
only accidental, I could not of course say, but I must own that I did
not like the look of it. Could it be possible, I asked myself, that
Nikola, learning our departure for Australia in the _Pescadore_, had
cabled from Port Said to this man to watch us?
The performance over, we left the theatre, and set off for the ferry,
only reaching it just as the boat was casting off. As it was I had to
jump for it, and on reaching the deck should have fallen in a heap but
for a helping hand that was stretched out to me. I looked up to tender
my thanks, when to my surprise I discovered that my benefactor was none
other than the man to whom I have just been referring. His surprise was
even greater than mine, and muttering something about "a close shave,"
he turned and walked quickly aft. My mind was now made up, and I
accordingly reported my discovery to Beckenham, pointing out the man and
warning him to watch for him when he was abroad without me. This he
promised to do.
Next morning I donned my best attire (my luggage having safely arrived),
and shortly before eleven o'clock bade Beckenham good-bye and betook
myself to Potts Point to call upon the Wetherells.
It would be impossible for me to say with what varied emotions I trod
that well-remembered street, crossed the garden, and approached the
ponderous front door, which somehow had always seemed to me so typical
of Mr. Wetherell himself. The same butler who had opened the door to me
on the previous occasion opened it now, and when I asked if Miss
Wetherell were at home, he gravely answered, "Yes, sir," and invited me
to enter.
I was shown into the drawing-room--a large double chamber beautifully
furnished and possessing an elegantly painted ceiling--while the butler
went in search of his mistress. A few moments later I heard a light
footstep outside, a hand was placed upon the handle of the door, and
before I could have counted ten, Phyllis--my Phyllis!--was in the room
and in my arms! Over the next five minutes, gentle reader, we will draw
a curtain with your kind permission. If you have ever met your
sweetheart after an absence of several months, you will readily
understand why!
When we had become rational again I led her to a sofa, and, seating
myself beside her, asked if her father had in any way relented. At this
she looked very unhappy, and for a moment I thought was going to burst
into tears.
"Why! What is the matter, Phyllis, my darling?" I cried in sincere
alarm. "What is troubling you?"
"Oh, I am so unhappy," she replied. "Dick, there is a gentleman in
Sydney now to whom papa has taken an enormous fancy, and he is exerting
all his influence over me to induce me to marry him."
"The deuce he is, and pray who may----" but I got no farther in my
inquiries, for at that moment I caught the sound of a footstep in the
hall, and next moment Mr. Wetherell opened the door. He remained for a
brief period looking from one to the other of us without speaking, then
he advanced, saying, "Mr. Hatteras, please be so good as to tell me when
this persecution will cease? Am I not even to be free of you in my own
house. Flesh and blood won't stand it, I tell you, sir--won't stand it!
You pursued my daughter to England in a most ungentlemanly fashion, and
now you have followed her out here again."
"Just as I shall continue to follow her all my life, Mr. Wetherell," I
replied warmly, "wherever you may take her. I told you on board the
_Orizaba_, months ago, that I loved her: well, I love her ten thousand
times more now. She loves me--won't you hear her tell you so? Why then
should you endeavour to keep us apart?"
"Because an alliance with you, sir, is distasteful to me in every
possible way. I have other views for my daughter, you must learn." Here
Phyllis could keep silence no longer, and broke in with--"If you mean by
that that you will force me into this hateful marriage with a man I
despise, papa, you are mistaken. I will marry no one but Mr. Hatteras,
and so I warn you."
"Silence, Miss! How dare you adopt that tone with me! You will do as I
wish in this and all other matters, and so we'll have no more talk about
it. Now, Mr. Hatteras, you have heard what I have to say, and I warn you
that, if you persist in this conduct, I'll see if something can't be
found in the law to put a stop to it. Meanwhile, if you show yourself in
my grounds again, I'll have my servants throw you out into the street!
Good-day."
Unjust as his conduct was to me, there was nothing for it but to submit,
so picking up my hat I bade poor little frightened Phyllis farewell, and
went towards the door. But before taking my departure I was determined
to have one final shot at her irascible parent, so I said, "Mr.
Wetherell, I have warned you before, and I do so again: your daughter
loves me, and, come what may, I will make her my wife. She is her own
mistress, and you cannot force her into marrying any one against her
will. Neither can you prevent her marrying me if she wishes it. You will
be sorry some day that you have behaved like this to me."
But the only answer he vouchsafed was a stormy one. "Leave my house this
instant," he said. "Not another word, sir, or I'll call my servants to
my assistance!"
The stately old butler opened the front door for me, and assuming as
dignified an air as was possible, I went down the drive and passed out
into the street.
When I reached home again Beckenham was out, for which I was not sorry,
as I wanted to have a good quiet think by myself. So lighting a cigar, I
pulled a chair into the verandah and fell to work. But I could make
nothing of the situation, save that, by my interview this morning, my
position with the father was, if possible, rendered even more hopeless
than before. Who was this more fortunate suitor? Would it be any use my
going to him and--but no, that was clearly impossible. Could I induce
Phyllis to run away with me? That was possible, of course, but I rather
doubted if she would care to take such an extreme step until every other
means had proved unsuccessful. Then what was to be done? I began to wish
that Beckenham would return in order that we might consult together.
Half an hour later our lunch was ready, but still no sign came of the
youth. Where could he have got to? I waited an hour and then fell to
work. Three o'clock arrived and still no sign--four, five, and even six.
By this time I was in a fever of anxiety. I remembered the existence of
the man who had followed us from Melbourne, and Beckenham's trusting
good nature. Then and there I resolved, if he did not return before
half-past seven, to set off for the nearest police-station and have a
search made for him. Slowly the large hand of the clock went round, and
when, at the time stated, he had not appeared, I donned my hat and,
inquiring the way, set off for the home of the law.
On arriving there and stating my business I was immediately conducted to
the inspector in charge, who questioned me very closely as to
Beckenham's appearance, age, profession, etc. Having done this, he
said:--
"But what reason have you, sir, for supposing that the young man has
been done away with? He has only been absent from his abode, according
to your statement, about eight or nine hours."
"Simply because," I answered, "I have the best of reasons for knowing
that ever since his arrival in Australia he has been shadowed. This
morning he said he would only go for a short stroll before lunch, and I
am positively certain, knowing my anxiety about him, he would not have
remained away so long of his own accord without communicating with me."
"Is there any motive you can assign for this shadowing?"
"My friend is heir to an enormous property in England. Perhaps that may
assist you in discovering one?"
"Very possibly. But still I am inclined to think you are a little hasty
in coming to so terrible a conclusion, Mr. ----?"
"Hatteras is my name, and I am staying at the _General Officer Hotel_ in
Palgrave Street."
"Well, Mr. Hatteras, if I were you I would go back to your hotel. You
will probably find your friend there eating his dinner and thinking
about instituting a search for you. If, however, he has not turned up,
and does not do so by to-morrow morning, call here again and report the
matter, and I will give you every assistance."
Thanking him for his courtesy I left the station and walked quickly back
to the hotel, hoping to find Beckenham safely returned and at his
dinner. But when the landlady met me in the verandah, and asked if I had
any news of my friend, I realized that a disappointment was in store for
me. By this time the excitement and worry were getting too much for me.
What with Nikola, the spy, Beckenham, Phyllis, the unknown lover, and
old Mr. Wetherell, I had more than enough to keep my brain occupied. I
sat down on a chair on the verandah with a sigh and reviewed the whole
case. Nine o'clock struck by the time my reverie was finished. Just as I
did so a newspaper boy came down the street lustily crying his wares. To
divert my mind from its unpleasant thoughts, I called him up and bought
an _Evening Mercury_. Having done so I passed into my sitting-room to
read it. The first, second, and third pages held nothing of much
interest to me, but on the fourth was an item which was astonishing
enough to almost make my hair stand on end. It ran as follows:
IMPORTANT ENGAGEMENT IN HIGH LIFE.
We have it on the very best authority that an engagement will
shortly be announced between a certain illustrious young nobleman,
now a visitor in our city, and the beautiful daughter of one of
Sydney's most prominent politicians, who has lately returned from a
visit to England. The _Evening Mercury_ tenders the young couple
their sincerest congratulations.
_Could this be the solution of the whole mystery?_ Could it be that the
engagement of Baxter, the telegram, the idea of travel, the drugging,
the imprisonment in Port Said, the substitution of the false marquis,
were all means to this end? Was is possible that this man, who was
masquerading as a man of title, was to marry Phyllis (for there could be
no possible doubt as to the person to whom that paragraph referred)? The
very thought of such a thing was not to be endured.
There must be no delay now, I told myself, in revealing all I knew. The
villains must be unmasked this very night. Wetherell should know all as
soon as I could tell him. As I came to this conclusion I crushed my
paper into my pocket and set off, without a moment's delay, for Potts
Point. The night was dark, and now a thick drizzle was falling.
Though it really did not take me very long, it seemed an eternity before
I reached the house and rang the bell. The butler opened the door, and
was evidently surprised to see me. "Is Mr. Wetherell at home?" I asked.
For a moment he looked doubtful as to what he should say, then
compromising matters, answered that he would see.
"I know what that means," I said in reply. "Mr. Wetherell is in, but you
don't think he'll see me. But he must! I have news for him of the very
utmost importance. Will you tell him that?"
He left me and went along the hall and upstairs. Presently he returned,
shaking his head.
"I am very sorry, sir, but Mr. Wetherell's answer is, if you have
anything to tell him you must put it in writing; he cannot see you."
"But he must! In this case I can accept no refusal. Tell him, will you,
that the matter upon which I wish to speak to him has nothing whatsoever
to do with the request I made to him this morning. I pledge him my word
on that."
Again the butler departed, and once more I was left to cool my heels in
the portico. When he returned it was with a smile upon his face. "Mr.
Wetherell will be glad if you will step this way, sir."
I followed him along the hall and up the massive stone staircase.
Arriving at the top he opened a door on the left-hand side and announced
"Mr. Hatteras."
I found Mr. Wetherell seated in a low chair opposite the fire, and from
the fact that his right foot was resting on a sort of small trestle, I
argued that he was suffering from an attack of his old enemy the gout.
"Be good enough to take a chair, Mr. Hatteras," he said, when the door
had been closed. "I must own I am quite at a loss to understand what you
can have to tell me of so much importance as to bring you to my house at
this time of night."
"I think I shall be able to satisfy you on that score, Mr. Wetherell," I
replied, taking the _Evening Mercury_ from my pocket and smoothing it
out. "In the first place, will you be good enough to tell me if there is
any truth in the inference contained in that paragraph."
I handed the paper to him and pointed to the lines in question. Having
put on his glasses he examined it carefully. "I am sorry they should
have made it public so soon, I must admit," he said. "But I don't deny
that there is a considerable amount of truth in what that paragraph
reports."
"You mean by that that you intend to try and marry Phyllis to the
Marquis of Beckenham?"
"The young man has paid her a very considerable amount of attention ever
since he arrived in the colony, and only last week he did me the honour
of confiding his views to me. You see I am candid with you."
"I thank you for it. I, too, will be candid with you. Mr. Wetherell, you
may set your mind at rest at once, this marriage will never take place!"
"And pray be so good as to tell me your reason for such a statement?"
"If you want it bluntly, because the young man now staying at Government
House is no more the Marquis of Beckenham than I am. He is a fraud, an
impostor, a cheat of the first water, put up to play his part by one of
the cleverest scoundrels unhung."
"Mr. Hatteras, this is really going too far. I can quite understand your
being jealous of his lordship, but I cannot understand your having the
audacity to bring such a foolish charge against him. I, for one, must
decline to listen to it. If he had been the fraud you make him out, how
would his tutor have got those letters from his Grace the Duke of
Glenbarth? Do you imagine his Excellency the Governor, who has known the
family all his life, would not have discovered him ere this? No, no,
sir! It won't do! If you think so, who has schooled him so cleverly? Who
has pulled the strings so wonderfully?"
"Why, Nikola, to be sure!"
Had I clapped a revolver to the old gentleman's head, or had the walls
opened and Nikola himself stepped into the room, a greater effect of
terror and consternation could not have been produced in the old
gentleman's face than did those five simple words. He fell back in his
chair gasping for breath, his complexion became ashen in its pallor, and
for a moment his whole nervous system seemed unstrung. I sprang to his
assistance, thinking he was going to have a fit, but he waived me off,
and when he had recovered himself sufficiently to speak, said
hoarsely--"What do you know of Dr. Nikola? Tell me, for God's
sake!--what do you know of him? Quick, quick!"
Thereupon I set to work and told him my story, from the day of my
arrival in Sydney from Thursday Island up to the moment of my reaching
his house, described my meeting and acquaintance with the real
Beckenham, and all the events consequent upon it. He listened, with an
awful terror growing in his face, and when I had finished my narrative
with the disappearance of my friend he nearly choked.
"Mr. Hatteras," he gasped, "will you swear this is the truth you are
telling me?"
"I solemnly swear it," I answered. "And will do so in public when and
where you please."
"Then before I do anything else I will beg your pardon for my conduct to
you. You have taken a noble revenge. I cannot thank you sufficiently.
But there is not a moment to lose. My daughter is at a ball at
Government House at the present moment. I should have accompanied her,
but my gout would not permit me. Will you oblige me by ringing that
bell?"
I rang the bell as requested, and then asked what he intended doing.
"Going off to his Excellency at once, gout or no gout, and telling him
what you have told me. If it is as you have said, we must catch these
scoundrels and rescue your friend without an instant's delay!"
Half an hour later we were at Government House waiting in his
Excellency's study for an interview. The music of the orchestra in the
ball-room came faintly in to us, and when Lord Amberley entered the room
he seemed surprised, as well he might be, to see us. But as soon as he
had heard what we had to tell him his expression changed. "Mr.
Wetherell, this is a very terrible charge you bring against my guest. Do
you think it can possibly be true?"
"I sadly fear so," said Mr. Wetherell. "But perhaps Mr. Hatteras will
tell you the story as he told it to me."
I did so, and, when I had finished, the Governor went to the door and
called a servant.
"Find Lord Beckenham, Johnson, at once, and ask him to be so good as to
come to me here. Stay--on second thoughts I'll go and look for him
myself."
He went off, leaving us alone again to listen to the ticking of the
clock upon the mantelpiece, and to wonder what was going to happen next.
Five minutes went by and then ten, but still he did not return. When he
did so it was with a still more serious countenance.
"You are evidently right, gentlemen. Neither the spurious marquis, nor
his tutor, Mr. Baxter, can be found anywhere. I have discovered, too,
that all their valuables and light luggage have been smuggled out of the
house to-night without the knowledge of my servants. This is a terrible
business. But I have given instructions, and the police will be
communicated with at once. Now we must do our best to find the real
Beckenham."
"Lord Amberley," said Wetherell, in a choking voice, "do you think one
of your servants could tell my daughter to come to me at once? I am not
feeling very well."
The Governor hesitated a moment, and then said--
"I am sorry to say, Mr. Wetherell, your daughter left the House an hour
ago. A message was brought to her that you had been suddenly taken ill
and needed her. She went off at once."
Wetherell's anxiety was piteous to see.
"My God!" he cried in despair. "If that is so, I am ruined. This is
Nikola's revenge."
Then he uttered a curious little sigh, moved a step forward, and fell in
a dead faint upon the floor.
CHAPTER II
ON THE TRAIL
As soon as Wetherell was able to speak again he said as feebly as an old
man of ninety, "Take me home, Mr. Hatteras, take me home, and let us
think out together what is best to be done to rescue my poor child."
The Governor rose to his feet and gave him his arm.
"I think you're right, Mr. Wetherell," he said. "It is of course just
probable that you will find your daughter at her home when you arrive.
God grant she may be! But in case she is not I will communicate all I
know to the Police Commissioner on his arrival, and send him and his
officers on to you. We must lose no time if we wish to catch these
scoundrels." Then turning to me, he continued: "Mr. Hatteras, it is
owing to your promptness that we are able to take such early steps. I
shall depend upon your further assistance in this matter."
"You may do so with perfect confidence," I answered. "If you knew all
you would understand that I am more anxious perhaps than any one to
discover the whereabouts of the young lady and my unfortunate friend."
Next moment we were being whirled down the drive at a pace which at any
other time I should have thought dangerous. Throughout the journey we
sat almost silent, wrapped in our anxieties and forebodings; hoping
almost against hope that when we arrived at Potts Point we should find
Phyllis awaiting us there. At last we turned into the grounds, and on
reaching the house I sprang out and rang the bell, then I went down to
help my companion to alight. The butler opened the door and descended
the steps to take the rugs. Wetherell stopped him almost angrily,
crying:
"Where is your mistress? Has she come home?"
The expression of surprise on the man's face told me, before he had time
to utter a word, that our hopes were not to be realized. "Miss Phyllis,
sir?" the man said. "Why, she's at the ball."
Wetherell turned from him with a deep sigh, and taking my arm went
heavily up the steps into the hall.
"Come to my study, Mr. Hatteras," he said, "and let me confer with you.
For God's sake don't desert me in my hour of need!"
"You need have no fear of that," I answered. "If it is bad for you,
think what it is for me." And then we went upstairs together.
Reaching his study, Mr. Wetherell led the way in and sat down. I went
across to the hearthrug and stood before him. "Now," I said, "we must
think this out from the very beginning, and to do that properly we must
consider every detail. Have you any objection to answering my
questions?"
"Ask any questions you like," he replied, "and I will answer them."
"In the first place, then, how soon after his arrival in the colony did
your daughter get to know that sham Beckenham?"
"Three days," he answered.
"At a dance, dinner party, picnic, or what?"
"At none of these things. The young man, it appears, had seen my
daughter in the street, and having been struck with her beauty asked one
of the aides-de-camp at Government House, with whom we are on intimate
terms, to bring him to call. At the time, I remember, I thought it a
particularly friendly action on his part."
"I don't doubt it," I answered. "Well that, I think, should tell us one
thing."
"And what is that?"
"That his instructions were to get to know your daughter without delay."
"But what could his reason have been?"
"Ah, that I cannot tell you just yet. Now you must pardon what I am
going to say: do you think he was serious in his intentions regarding
Phyllis--I mean your daughter?"
"Perfectly, as far as I could tell. His desire, he said, was, if she
would have him, to be allowed to marry her on his twenty-first birthday,
which would be next week, and in proof of permission he showed me a
cablegram from his father."
"A forgery, I don't doubt. Well, then, the only construction I can put
upon it is that the arrival of the real Beckenham in Sydney must have
frightened him, thus compelling the gang to resort to other means of
obtaining possession of her at once. Now our next business must be to
find out how that dastardly act was accomplished. May I ring the bell
and have up the coachman who drove your daughter to the ball?"
"By all means. Please act in every way in this matter as if this house
were your own."
I rang the bell, and when the butler appeared to answer it Mr. Wetherell
instructed him to find the man I wanted and send him up. The servant
left the room again, and for five minutes we awaited his reappearance in
silence. When he did come back he said, "Thompson has not come home yet,
sir."
"Not come home yet! Why, it's nearly eleven o'clock! Send him in
directly he arrives. Hark! What bell is that?"
"Front door, sir."
"Go down and answer it then, and if it should be the Commissioner of
Police show him up here at once."
As it turned out it was not the Commissioner of Police, but an
Inspector.
"Good-evening," said Mr. Wetherell. "You have come from Government
House, I presume?"
"Exactly so, sir," replied the Inspector. "His Excellency gave us some
particulars and then sent us on."
"You know the nature of the case?"
"His Excellency informed us himself."
"And what steps have you taken?"
"Well, sir, to begin with, we have given orders for a thorough search
throughout the city and suburbs for the tutor and the sham nobleman, at
the same time more men are out looking for the real Lord Beckenham. We
are also trying to find your coachman, who was supposed to have driven
Miss Wetherell away from Government House, and also the carriage, which
is certain to be found before very long."
He had hardly finished speaking before there was another loud ring at
the bell, and presently the butler entered once more. Crossing to Mr.
Wetherell, he said--
"Two policemen are at the front door, and they have brought Thompson
home, sir."
"Ah! We are likely to have a little light thrown upon the matter now.
Let them bring him up here."
"He's not in a very nice state, sir."
"Never mind that. Bring him up here, instantly!"
Again the butler departed, and a few moments later heavy footsteps
ascended the stairs and approached the study door. Then two stalwart
policemen entered the room supporting between them a miserable figure in
coachman's livery. His hat and coat were gone and his breeches were
stained with mud, while a large bruise totally obscured his left eye.
"Stand him over there opposite me," said Mr. Wetherell, pointing to the
side of the room furthest from the door. The policemen did as they were
ordered, while the man looked more dead than alive.
"Now, Thompson," said Wetherell, looking sternly at him, "what have you
got to say for yourself?"
But the man only groaned. Seeing that in his present state he could say
nothing, I went across to the table and mixed him a glass of grog. When
I gave it to him he drank it eagerly. It seemed to sharpen his wits, for
he answered instantly--
"It wasn't my fault, sir. If I'd only ha' known what their game was I'd
have been killed afore I'd have let them do anything to hurt the young
lady. But they was too cunnin' for me, sir."
"Be more explicit, sir!" said Wetherell sternly. "Don't stand there
whining, but tell your story straight-forwardly and at once."
The poor wretch pulled himself together and did his best. "It was in
this way, sir," he began. "Last week I was introduced by a friend of
mine to as nice a spoken man as ever I saw. He was from England, he said
and having a little money thought he'd like to try his 'and at a bit o'
racing in Australia, like. He was on the look-out for a smart man, he
said, who'd be able to put him up to a wrinkle or two, and maybe train
for him later on. He went on to say that he'd 'eard a lot about me, and
thought I was just the man for his money. Well, we got more and more
friendly till the other night, Monday, when he said as how he'd settled
on a farm a bit out in the country, and was going to sign the agreement,
as they called it, for to rent it next day. He was goin' to start a stud
farm and trainin' establishment combined, and would I take the billet of
manager at three 'undred a year? Anyway, as he said, 'Don't be in a
'urry to decide; take your time and think it over. Meet me at the
_Canary Bird 'Otel_ on Thursday night (that's to-night, sir) and give me
your decision.' Well, sir, I drove Miss Wetherell to Government 'Ouse,
sir, according to orders, and then, comin' 'ome, went round by the
_Canary Bird_, to give 'im my answer, thinkin' no 'arm could ever come
of it. When I drove up he was standin' at the door smoking his cigar,
an' bein' an affable sort of fellow, invited me inside to take a drink.
'I don't like to leave the box,' I said. 'Oh, never mind your horse,'
says he. ''Ere's a man as will stand by it for five minutes.' He gave a
respectable lookin' chap, alongside the lamp-post, a sixpence, and he
'eld the 'orse; so in I went. When we got inside I was for goin' to the
bar, but 'e says, 'No. This is an important business matter, and we
don't want to be over'eard.' With that he leads the way into a private
room at the end of the passage and shuts the door. 'What's yours?' says
he. 'A nobbler o' rum,' says I. Then he orders a nobbler of rum for me
and a nobbler of whisky for 'imself. And when it was brought we sat
talkin' of the place he'd thought o' takin' an' the 'orses he was goin'
to buy, an' then 'e says, ''Ullo! Somebody listenin' at the door. I
'eard a step. Jump up and look.' I got up and ran to the door, but there
was nobody there, so I sat down again and we went on talking. Then he
says, takin' up his glass: ''Ere's to your 'ealth, Mr. Thompson, and
success to the farm.' We both drank it an' went on talkin' till I felt
that sleepy I didn't know what to do. Then I dropped off, an' after that
I don't remember nothin' of what 'appened till I woke up in the Domain,
without my hat and coat, and found a policeman shakin' me by the
shoulder."
"The whole thing is as plain as daylight," cried Wetherell bitterly. "It
is a thoroughly organized conspiracy, having me for its victim. Oh, my
poor little girlie! What has my obstinacy brought you to!"
Seeing the old man in this state very nearly broke me down, but I
mastered myself with an effort and addressed a question to the
unfortunate coachman--
"Pull yourself together, Thompson, and tell me as correctly as you can
what this friend of yours was like."
I fully expected to hear him give an exact description of the man who
had followed us from Melbourne, but I was mistaken.
"I don't know, sir," said Thompson, "as I could rightly tell you, my
mind being still a bit dizzy-like. He was tall, but not by any manner of
means big made; he had very small 'ands 'an feet, a sort o' what they
call death's-'ead complexion; 'is 'air was black as soot, an' so was 'is
eyes, an' they sparkled like two diamonds."
"Do you remember noticing if he had a curious gold ring on his little
finger, like a snake?"
"He had, sir, with two eyes made of some black stone. That's just as
true as you're born."
"Then it was Nikola," I cried in an outburst of astonishment, "and he
followed us to Australia after all!"
Wetherell gave a deep sigh that was more like a groan than anything;
then he became suddenly a new man.
"Mr. Inspector," he cried to the police officer, "that man, or traces of
him, must be found before daylight. I know him, and he is as slippery as
an eel; if you lose a minute he'll be through your fingers."
"One moment first," I cried. "Tell me this, Thompson: when you drove up
to the _Canary Bird Hotel_ where did you say this man was standing?"
"In the verandah, sir."
"Had he his hat on?"
"Yes, sir."
"And then you went towards the bar, but it was crowded, so he took you
to a private room?"
"Yes, sir."
"And once there he began giving you the details of this farm he proposed
starting. Did he work out any figures on paper?"
"Yes, sir."
"On what?"
"On a letter or envelope; I'm not certain which."
"Which of course he took from his pocket?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very good," I said. Then turning to the police officer, "Now, Mr.
Inspector, shall we be off to the _Canary Bird_?"
"If you wish it, sir. In the meantime I'll send instructions back by
these men to the different stations. Before breakfast time we must have
the man who held the horse."
"You don't know him, I suppose?" I asked Thompson.
"No, sir; but I've seen him before," he answered.
"He's a Sydney fellow, then?"
"Oh yes, sir."
"Then there should be no difficulty in catching him. Now let us be
going."
Mr. Wetherell rose to accompany us, but hard though it was to stop him I
eventually succeeded in dissuading him from such a course.
"But you will let me know directly you discover anything, won't you, Mr.
Hatteras?" he cried as we were about to leave the room. "Think of my
anxiety."
I gave my promise and then, accompanied by the Inspector, left the
house. Hailing a passing cab we jumped into it and told the driver to
proceed as fast as he could to the hotel in question. Just as we started
a clock in the neighbourhood struck twelve. Phyllis had been in Nikola's
hands three hours.
Pulling up opposite the _Canary Bird_ (the place where the coachman had
been drugged), we jumped out and bade the cabman wait. The hotel was in
complete darkness, and it was not until we had pealed the bell twice
that we succeeded in producing any sign of life. Then the landlord, half
dressed, carrying a candle in his hand, came downstairs and called out
to know who was there and what we wanted. My companion immediately said
"Police," and in answer to that magic word the door was unbarred.
"Good-evening, Mr. Bartrell," said the Inspector. "May we come in for a
moment on business?"
"Certainly, Mr. Inspector," said the landlord, who evidently knew my
companion. "But isn't this rather late for a call. I hope there is
nothing the matter?"
"Nothing much," returned the Inspector: "only we want to make a few
inquiries about a man who was here to-night, and for whom we are
looking."
"If that is so I'm afraid I must call my barman. I was not in the bar
this evening. If you'll excuse me I'll go and bring him down. In the
meantime make yourselves comfortable."
He left us to kick our heels in the hall while he went upstairs again.
In about ten minutes, and just as my all-consuming impatience was
well-nigh getting the better of me, he returned, bringing with him the
sleepy barman.
"These gentlemen want some information about a man who was here
to-night," the landlord said by way of introduction. "Perhaps you can
give it?"
"What was he like, sir?" asked the barman of the Inspector. The latter,
however, turned to me.
"Tall, slim, with a sallow complexion," I said, "black hair and very
dark restless eyes. He came in here with the Hon. Sylvester Wetherell's
coachman."
The man seemed to recollect him at once.
"I remember him," he said. "They sat in No. 5 down the passage there,
and the man you mention ordered a nobbler of rum and a whisky."
"That's the fellow we want," said the Inspector. "Now tell me this, have
you ever seen him in here before?"
"Never once," said the barman, "and that's a solemn fact, because if I
had I couldn't have forgotten it. His figure-head wouldn't let you do
that. No, sir, to-night was the first night he's ever been in the
_Canary Bird_."
"Did any one else visit them while they were in the room together?"
"Not as I know of. But stay, I'm not so certain. Yes; I remember seeing
a tall, good-looking chap come down the passage and go in there. But it
was some time, half an hour maybe, after I took in the drinks."
"Did you see him come out again?"
"No. But I know the coachman got very drunk, and had to be carried out
to the carriage."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I saw the other two doing it."
The Inspector turned to me.
"Not very satisfactory, is it?"
"No," I answered. "But do you mind letting us look into No. 5--the room
they occupied?"
"Not at all," said the landlord. "Come with me."
So saying he led the way down the passage to a little room on the
right-hand side, the door of which he threw open with a theatrical
flourish. It was in pitch darkness, but a few seconds later the gas was
lit and we could see all that it contained. A small table stood in the
centre of the room, and round the walls were ranged two or three wooden
chairs. A small window was at the further end and a fireplace opposite
the door. On the table was a half-smoked cigar and a torn copy of the
_Evening Mercury_. But that was not what I wanted, so I went down on my
hands and knees and looked about upon the floor. Presently I descried a
small ball of paper near the grate. Picking it up I seated myself at the
table and turned to the barman, who was watching my movements
attentively.
"Was this room used by any other people after the party we are looking
for left?"
"No, sir. There was nobody in either of these two bottom rooms."
"You are quite certain of that?"
"Perfectly certain."
I took up the ball of paper, unrolled it and spread it out upon the
table. To my disgust it was only the back half of an envelope, and
though it had a few figures dotted about upon it, was of no possible use
to us.
"Nothing there?" asked the Inspector.
"Nothing at all," I answered bitterly, "save a few incomprehensible
figures."
"Well, in that case, we'd better be getting up to the station and see if
they've discovered anything yet."
"Come along, then," I answered. "We must be quick though, for we've lost
a lot of precious time, and every minute counts."
I took up the _Evening Mercury_ and followed him out to the cab, after
having sincerely thanked the hotel proprietor and the barman for their
courtesy. The Inspector gave the driver his orders and we set off. As we
went we discussed our next movements, and while we were doing so I idly
glanced at the paper I held in my hand. There was a lamp in the cab, and
the light showed me on the bottom right-hand corner a round blue
india-rubber stamp mark, "W. E. Maxwell, stationer and newsagent, 23,
Ipswell Street, Woolahra."
"Stop the cab!" I almost shouted. "Tell the man to drive us back to the
_Canary Bird_ quickly."
The order was given, the cab faced round, and in less than a minute we
were on our way back.
"What's up now?" asked the astonished Inspector.
"Only that I believe I've got a clue," I cried.
I did not explain any further, and in five minutes we had brought the
landlord downstairs again.
"I'm sorry to trouble you in this fashion," I cried, "but life and death
depend on it. I want you to let me see No. 5 again."
He conducted us to the room, and once more the gas was lit. The small
strip of envelope lay upon the table just as I had thrown it down. I
seated myself and again looked closely at it. Then I sprang to my feet.
"I thought so!" I cried excitedly, pointing to the paper; "I told you I
had a clue. Now, Mr. Inspector, who wrote those figures?"
"The man you call Nikola, I suppose."
"That's right. Now who would have bought this newspaper? You must
remember that Thompson only left his box to come in here."
"Nikola, I suppose."
"Very good. Then according to your own showing Nikola owned this piece
of envelope and this _Evening Mercury_. If that is certain, look here!"
He came round and looked over my shoulder. I pointed to what was
evidently part of the gummed edge of the top of the envelope. On it were
these three important words, "----swell Street, Woolahra."
"Well," he said, "what about it?"
"Why, look here!" I said, as I opened the _Evening Mercury_ and pointed
to the stamp-mark at the bottom. "The man who bought this newspaper at
Mr. Maxwell's shop also bought this envelope there. The letters 'swell'
before 'street' constitute the last half of Ipswell, the name of the
street. If that man be Nikola, as we suspect, the person who served him
is certain to remember him, and it is just within the bounds of
possibility he may know his address."
"That's so," said the Inspector, struck with the force of my argument.
"I know Mr. Maxwell's shop, and our best plan will be to go on there as
fast as we can."
Again thanking the landlord for his civility, we returned to our cab and
once more set off, this time for Mr. Maxwell's shop in Ipswell Street.
By the time we reached it it was nearly three o'clock, and gradually
growing light. As the cab drew up alongside the curb the Inspector
jumped out and rang the bell at the side door. It was opened after
awhile by a shock-headed youth, who stared at us in sleepy astonishment.
"Does Mr. Maxwell live at the shop?" asked the Inspector.
"No, sir."
"Where then?"
"Ponson Street--third house on the left-hand side."
"Thank you."
Once more we jumped into the cab and rattled off. It seemed to me, so
anxious and terrified was I for my darling's safety, that we were fated
never to get the information we wanted; the whole thing was like some
nightmare, in which, try how I would to move, every step was clogged.
A few minutes' drive brought us to Ponson Street, and we drew up at the
third house on the left-hand side. It was a pretty little villa, with a
nice front garden and a creeper-covered verandah. We rang the bell and
waited. Presently we heard some one coming down the passage, and a
moment later the door was unlocked.
"Who is there?" cried a voice from within.
"Police," said my companion as before.
The door was immediately opened, and a very small sandy-complexioned
man, dressed in a flaring suit of striped pyjamas, stood before us. "Is
anything wrong, gentlemen?" he asked nervously.
"Nothing to affect you, Mr. Maxwell," my companion replied. "We only
want a little important information, if you can give it us. We are
anxious to discover a man's whereabouts before daylight, and we have
been led to believe that you are the only person who can give us the
necessary clue."
"Good gracious! But I shall be happy to serve you if I can," the little
man answered, leading the way into his dining-room with an air of
importance his appearance rather belied. "What is it?"
"Well, it's this," I replied, producing the piece of envelope and the
_Evening Mercury_. "You see these letters on the top of this paper,
don't you?" He nodded, his attention at once secured by seeing his own
name. "Well, that envelope was evidently purchased in your shop. So was
this newspaper."
"How can you tell that?"
"In the case of the envelope, by these letters; in that of the paper, by
your rubber stamp on the bottom."
"Ah! Well, now, and in what way can I help you?"
"We want to know the address of the man who bought them."
"That will surely be difficult. Can you give me any idea of what he was
like?"
"Tall, slightly foreign in appearance, distinctly handsome, sallow
complexion, very dark eyes, black hair, small hands and feet."
As my description progressed the little man's face brightened. Then he
cried with evident triumph--"I know the man; he came into the shop
yesterday afternoon."
"And his address is?"
His face fell again. His information was not quite as helpful as he had
expected it would be.
"There I can't help you, I'm sorry to say. He bought a packet of paper
and envelopes and the _Evening Mercury_ and then left the shop. I was so
struck by his appearance that I went to the door and watched him cross
the road."
"And in which direction did he go?"
"Over to Podgers' chemist shop across the way. That was the last I saw
of him."
"I'm obliged to you, Mr. Maxwell," I said, shaking him by the hand. "But
I'm sorry you can't tell us something more definite about him." Then
turning to the Inspector: "I suppose we had better go off and find
Podgers. But if we have to spend much more time in rushing about like
this we shall be certain to lose them altogether."
"Let us be off to Podgers', then, as fast as we can go."
Bidding Mr. Maxwell good-bye, we set off again, and in ten minutes had
arrived at the shop and had Mr. Podgers downstairs. We explained our
errand briefly, and gave a minute description of the man we wanted.
"I remember him perfectly," said the sedate Podgers. "He came into my
shop last night and purchased a bottle of chloroform."
"You made him sign the poison book, of course?"
"Naturally I did, Mr. Inspector. Would you like to see his signature?"
"Very much," we both answered at once, and the book was accordingly
produced.
Podgers ran his finger down the list.
"Brown, Williams, Davis--ah! here it is. 'Chloroform: J. Venneage, 22,
Calliope Street, Woolahra.'"
"Venneage!" I cried. "Why, that's not his name!"
"Very likely not," replied Podgers; "but it's the name he gave me."
"Never mind, we'll try 22, Calliope Street, on the chance," said the
Inspector.
Again we drove off, this time at increased pace. In less than fifteen
minutes we had turned into the street we wanted, and pulled up about a
hundred yards from the junction. It was a small thoroughfare, with a
long line of second-class villa residences on either side. A policeman
was sauntering along on the opposite side of the way, and the Inspector
called him over. He saluted respectfully, and waited to be addressed.
"What do you know of number 22?" asked the Inspector briefly. The
constable considered for a few moments, and then said--
"Well, to tell you the truth, sir, I didn't know until yesterday that it
was occupied."
"Have you seen anybody about there?"
"I saw three men go in just as I came on the beat to-night."
"What were they like?"
"Well, I don't know that I looked much at them. They were all pretty
big, and they seemed to be laughing and enjoying themselves."
"Did they! Well, we must go in there and have a look at them. You had
better come with us."
We walked on down the street till we arrived at No. 22. Then opening the
gate we went up the steps to the hall door. It was quite light enough by
this time to enable us to see everything distinctly. The Inspector gave
the bell a good pull and the peal re-echoed inside the house. But not a
sound of any living being came from within in answer. Again the bell was
pulled, and once more we waited patiently, but with the same result.
"Either there's nobody at home or they refuse to hear," said the
Inspector. "Constable, you remain where you are and collar the first man
you see. Mr. Hatteras, we will go round to the back and try to effect an
entrance from there."
We left the front door, and finding a path reached the yard. The house
was only a small one, with a little verandah at the rear on to which the
back door opened. On either side of the door were two fair-sized
windows, and by some good fortune it chanced that the catch of one of
these was broken.
Lifting the sash up, the Inspector jumped into the room, and as soon as
he was through I followed him. Then we looked about us. The room,
however, was destitute of furniture or occupants.
"I don't hear anybody about," my companion said, opening the door that
led into the hall. Just at that moment I heard a sound, and touching his
arm signed to him to listen. We both did so, and surely enough there
came again the faint muttering of a human voice. In the half-dark of the
hall it sounded most uncanny.
"Somebody in one of the front rooms," said the Inspector. "I'll slip
along and open the front door, bring in the man from outside, and then
we'll burst into the room and take our chance of capturing them."
He did as he proposed, and when the constable had joined us we moved
towards the room on the left.
Again the mutterings came from the inside, and the Inspector turned the
handle of the door. It was locked, however. "Let me burst it in," I
whispered.
He nodded, and I accordingly put my shoulder against it, and bringing my
strength to bear sent it flying in.
Then we rushed into the room, to find it, at first glance, empty. Just
at that moment, however, the muttering began again, and we looked
towards the darkest corner; somebody was there, lying on the ground. I
rushed across and knelt down to look. _It was Beckenham; his mouth
gagged and his hands and feet bound. The noise we had heard was that
made by him trying to call us to his assistance._
In less time than it takes to tell I had cut his bonds and helped him to
sit up. Then I explained to the Inspector who he was.
"Thank God you're found!" I cried. "But what does it all mean? How long
have you been like this? and where is Nikola?"
"I don't know how long I've been here," he answered, "and I don't know
where Nikola is."
"But you must know something about him!" I cried. "For Heaven's sake
tell me all you can! I'm in awful trouble, and your story may give me
the means of saving a life that is dearer to me than my own."
"Get me something to drink first, then," he replied; "I'm nearly dying
of thirst; after that I'll tell you."
Fortunately I had had the foresight to put a flask of whisky into my
pocket, and I now took it out and gave him a stiff nobbler. It revived
him somewhat, and he prepared to begin his tale. But the Inspector
interrupted--
"Before you commence, my lord, I must send word to the Commissioner that
you have been found."
He wrote a message on a piece of paper and despatched the constable with
it. Having done so he turned to Beckenham and said--
"Now, my lord, pray let us hear your story."
Beckenham forthwith commenced.
CHAPTER III
LORD BECKENHAM'S STORY
"When you left me, Mr. Hatteras, I remained in the house for half an
hour or so reading. Then, thinking no harm could possibly come of it, I
started out for a little excursion on my own account. It was about
half-past eleven then.
"Leaving the hotel I made for the ferry and crossed Darling Harbour to
Millers Point; then, setting myself for a good ramble, off I went
through the city, up one street and down another, to eventually bring up
in the botanical gardens. The view was so exquisite that I sat myself
down on a seat and resigned myself to rapturous contemplation of it. How
long I remained there I could not possibly say. I only know that while I
was watching the movements of a man-o'-war in the cove below me I became
aware, by intuition--for I did not look at him--that I was the object of
close scrutiny by a man standing some little distance from me. Presently
I found him drawing closer to me, until he came boldly up and seated
himself beside me. He was a queer-looking little chap, in some ways not
unlike my old tutor Baxter, with a shrewd, clean-shaven face, grey hair,
bushy eyebrows, and a long and rather hooked nose. He was well dressed,
and when we had been sitting side by side for some minutes he turned to
me and said--
"'It is a beautiful picture we have spread before us, is it not?'
"'It is, indeed,' I answered. 'And what a diversity of shipping!'
"'You may well say that,' he continued. 'It would be an interesting
study, would it not, to make a list of all the craft that pass in and
out of this harbour in a day--to put down the places where they were
built and whence they hail, the characters of their owners and
commanders, and their errands about the world. What a book it would
make, would it not? Look at that man-o'-war in Farm Cove; think of the
money she cost, think of where that money came from--the rich people who
paid without thinking, the poor who dreaded the coming of the tax
collector like a visit from the Evil One; imagine the busy dockyard in
which she was built--can't you seem to hear the clang of the riveters
and the buzzing of the steam saws? Then take that Norwegian boat passing
the fort there; think of her birthplace in far Norway, think of the
places she has since seen, imagine her masts growing in the forests on
the mountain side of lonely fiords, where the silence is so intense that
a stone rolling down and dropping into the water echoes like thunder.'
"He went on like this for some time, until I said: 'You seem to have
studied it very carefully.'
"'Perhaps I have,' he answered. 'I am deeply interested in the life of
the sea--few more so. Are you a stranger in New South Wales?'
"'Quite a stranger,' I replied. 'I only arrived in Australia a few days
since.'
"'Indeed! Then you have to make the acquaintance of many entrancing
beauties yet. Forgive my impertinence, but if you are on a tour, let me
recommend you to see the islands before you return home.'
"'The South-Sea Islands, I presume you mean?' I said.
"'Yes; the bewitching islands of the Southern Seas! The most
entrancingly beautiful spots on God's beautiful earth! See them before
you go. They will amply repay any trouble it may cost you to reach
them.'
"'I should like to see them very much,' I answered.
"'Perhaps you are interested in them already?' he continued.
"'Very much indeed,' I replied.
"'Then, in that case, I may not be considered presumptuous if I offer to
assist you. I am an old South-Sea merchant myself, and I have amassed a
large collection of beautiful objects from the islands. If you would
allow me the pleasure I should be delighted to show them to you.'
"'I should like to see them very much indeed,' I answered, thinking it
extremely civil of him.
"'If you have time we might perhaps go and over-haul them now. My house
is but a short distance from the Domain, and my carriage is waiting at
the gates.'
"'I shall be delighted,' I said, thinking there could be no possible
harm in my accepting his invitation.
"'But before we go, may I be allowed to introduce myself?' the old
gentleman said, taking a card-case from his pocket and withdrawing a
card. This he handed to me, and on it I read--
'Mr. Mathew Draper.'
"'I am afraid I have no card to offer you in return,' I said; 'but I am
the Marquis of Beckenham.'
"'Indeed! Then I am doubly honoured,' the old gentleman said, with a low
bow. 'Now shall we wend our way up towards my carriage?'
"We did so, chatting as we went. At the gates a neat brougham was
waiting for us, and in it we took our places. "'Home,' cried my host,
and forthwith we set off down the street. Up one thoroughfare and down
another we passed, until I lost all count of our direction. Throughout
the drive my companion talked away in his best style; commented on the
architecture of the houses, had many queer stories to tell of the
passers-by, and in many other ways kept my attention engaged till the
carriage came to a standstill before a small but pretty villa in a quiet
street.
"Mr. Draper immediately alighted, and when I had done so, dismissed his
coachman, who drove away as we passed through the little garden and
approached the dwelling. The front door was opened by a dignified
man-servant, and we entered. The hall, which was a spacious one for so
small a dwelling, was filled with curios and weapons, but I had small
time for observing them, as my host led me towards a room at the back.
As we entered it he said 'I make you welcome to my house, my lord. I
hope, now that you have taken the trouble to come, I shall be able to
show you something that will repay your visit.' Thereupon, bidding me
seat myself for a few moments, he excused himself and left the room.
When he returned he began to do the honours of the apartment. First we
examined a rack of Australian spears, nulla-nullas, and boomerangs, then
another containing New Zealand hatchets and clubs. After this we crossed
to a sort of alcove where reposed in cases a great number of curios
collected from the further islands of the Pacific. I was about to take
up one of these when the door on the other side of the room opened and
some one entered. At first I did not look round, but hearing the
new-comer approaching me I turned, to find myself, to my horrified
surprise, face to face _with Dr. Nikola_. He was dressed entirely in
black, his coat was buttoned and displayed all the symmetry of his
peculiar figure, while his hair seemed blacker and his complexion even
paler than before. He had evidently been prepared for my visit, for he
held out his hand and greeted me without a sign of astonishment upon his
face.
"'This is indeed a pleasure, my lord,' he said, still with his hand
out-stretched, looking hard at me with his peculiar cat-like eyes. 'I
did not expect to see you again so soon. And you are evidently a little
surprised at meeting me.'
"'I am more than surprised,' I answered bitterly. 'I am horribly
mortified and angry.'
"Mr. Draper said nothing, but Dr. Nikola dropped into a chair and spoke
for him.
"'You must not blame my old friend Draper,' he said suavely. 'We have
been wondering for the last twenty-four hours how we might best get hold
of you, and the means we have employed so successfully seemed the only
possible way. Have no fear, my lord, you shall not be hurt. In less than
twenty-four hours you will enjoy the society of your energetic friend
Mr. Hatteras again.'
"'What is your reason for abducting me like this?' I asked. 'You are
foolish to do so, for Mr. Hatteras will leave no stone unturned to find
me.'
"'I do not doubt that at all,' said Dr. Nikola quietly; 'but I think Mr.
Hatteras will find he will have all his work cut out for him this time.'
"'If you imagine that your plans are not known in Sydney you are
mistaken,' I cried. 'The farce you are playing at Government House is
detected, and Mr. Hatteras, directly he finds I am lost, will go to Lord
Amberley, and reveal everything.'
"'I have not the slightest objection,' returned Dr. Nikola quietly. 'By
the time Mr. Hatteras can take those steps--indeed, by the time he
discovers your absence at all--we shall be beyond his reach.'
"I could not follow his meaning, of course, but while he had been
speaking I had been looking stealthily round me for a means of escape.
The only way out of the room was, of course, by the door, but both
Nikola and his ally were between me and that. Then a big stone hatchet
hanging on the wall near me caught my eye. Hardly had I seen it before
an idea flashed through my brain. Supposing I seized it and fought my
way out. The door of the room stood open, and I noticed with delight
that the key was in the lock on the outside. One rush, armed with the
big hatchet, would take me into the passage; then before my foes could
recover their wits I might be able to turn the key, and, having locked
them in, make my escape from the house.
"Without another thought I made up my mind, sprang to the wall, wrenched
down the hatchet, and prepared for my rush. But by the time I had done
it both Nikola and Draper were on their feet.
"'Out of my way!' I cried, raising my awful weapon aloft. 'Stop me at
your peril!'
"With my hatchet in the air I looked at Nikola. He was standing rigidly
erect, with one arm out-stretched, the hand pointing at me. His eyes
glared like living coals, and when he spoke his voice came from between
his teeth like a serpent's hiss.
"'Put down that axe!' he said.
"With that the old horrible fear of him which had seized me on board
ship came over me again. His eyes fascinated me so that I could not look
away from them. I put down the hatchet without another thought. Still he
gazed at me in the same hideous fashion.
"'Sit down in that chair,' he said quietly. 'You cannot disobey me.' And
indeed I could not. My heart was throbbing painfully, and an awful
dizziness was creeping over me. Still I could not get away from those
terrible eyes. They seemed to be growing larger and fiercer every
moment. Oh! I can feel the horror of them even now. As I gazed his white
right hand was moving to and fro before me with regular sweeps, and with
each one I felt my own will growing weaker and weaker. That I was being
mesmerized, I had no doubt, but if I had been going to be murdered I
could not have moved a finger to save myself.
"Then there came a sudden but imperative knock at the door, and both
Nikola and Draper rose. Next moment the man whom we had noticed in the
train as we came up from Melbourne, and against whom you, Mr. Hatteras,
had warned me in Sydney, entered the room. He crossed and stood
respectfully before Nikola.
"'Well, Mr. Eastover, what news?' asked the latter. 'Have you done what
I told you?'
"'Everything,' the man answered, taking an envelope from his pocket.
'Here is the letter you wanted.'
"Nikola took it from his subordinate's hand, broke the seal, and having
withdrawn the contents, read it carefully. All this time, seeing
resistance was quite useless, I did not move. I felt too sick and giddy
for anything. When he had finished his correspondence Nikola said
something in an undertone to Draper, who immediately left the room.
During the time he was absent none of us spoke. Presently he returned,
bringing with him a wine glass filled with water, which he presented to
Nikola.
"'Thank you,' said that gentleman, feeling in his waistcoat pocket.
Presently he found what he wanted and produced what looked like a small
silver scent-bottle. Unscrewing the top, he poured from it into the wine
glass a few drops of some dark-coloured liquid. Having done this he
smelt it carefully and then handed it to me. 'I must ask you to drink
this, my lord,' he said. 'You need have no fear of the result: it is
perfectly harmless.'
"Did ever man hear such a cool proposition? Very naturally I declined to
do as he wished.
"'You _must_ drink it!' he reiterated. 'Pray do so at once. I have no
time to waste bandying words.'
"'I will not drink it!' I cried, rising to my feet, and prepared to make
a fight for it if need should be.
"Once more those eyes grew terrible, and once more that hand began to
make the passes before my face. Again I felt the dizziness stealing over
me. His will was growing every moment too strong for me. I could not
resist him. So when he once more said, 'Drink!' I took the glass and did
as I was ordered. After that I remember seeing Nikola, Draper, and the
man they called Eastover engaged in earnest conversation on the other
side of the room. I remember Nikola crossing to where I sat and gazing
steadfastly into my face, and after that I recollect no more until I
came to my senses in this room, to find myself bound and gagged. For
what seemed like hours I lay in agony, then I heard footsteps in the
verandah, and next moment the sound of voices. I tried to call for help,
but could utter no words. I thought you would go away without
discovering me, but fortunately for me you did not do so. Now, Mr.
Hatteras, I have told you everything."
For some time after the Marquis had concluded his strange story both the
Inspector and I sat in deep thought. That Beckenham had been kidnapped
in order that he should be out of the way while the villainous plot for
abducting Phyllis was being enacted there could be no doubt. But why had
he been chosen? and what clues were we to gather from what he had told
us? I turned to the Inspector and said--
"What do you think will be the best course for us to pursue now?"
"I have been wondering myself. I think, as there is nothing to be
learned from this house, the better plan would be for you two gentlemen
to go back to Mr. Wetherell, while I return to the detective office and
see if anything has been discovered by the men there. As soon as I have
found out I will join you at Potts Point. What do you think?"
I agreed that it would be the best course; so, taking the Marquis by the
arms (for he was still too weak to walk alone), we left the house, and
were about to step into the street when I stopped, and asking them to
wait for me ran back into the room again. In the corner, just as it had
been thrown down, lay the rope with which Beckenham had been bound and
the pad which had been fitted over his mouth. I picked both up and
carried them into the verandah.
"Come here, Mr. Inspector," I cried. "I thought I should learn something
from this. Look at this rope and this pad, and tell me what you make of
them."
He took each up in turn and looked them over and over. But he only shook
his head.
"I don't see anything to guide us," he said.
"Don't you?" I cried. "Why, they tell me more than I have learnt from
anything else I've seen. Look at the two ends of this. They're seized!"
I looked triumphantly at him, but he only stared at me in surprise, and
said, "What do you mean by 'seized'?"
"Why, I mean that the ends are bound up in this way--look for yourself.
Now not one landsman in a hundred _seizes_ a rope's end. This line was
taken from some ship in the harbour, and----By Jove! here's another
discovery!"
"What now?" he cried, being by this time almost as excited as I was
myself.
"Why, look here," I said, holding the middle of the rope up to the
light, so that we could get a better view of it. "Not very many hours
ago this rope was running through a block, and that block was an
uncommon one."
"How do you know that it was an uncommon one?"
"Because it has been newly painted, and what's funnier still, painted
green, of all other colours. Look at this streak of paint along the
line; see how it's smudged. Now, let's review the case as we walk
along."
So saying, with the Marquis between us, we set off down the street,
hoping to be able to pick up a cab.
"First and foremost," I said, "remember old Draper's talk of the South
Seas--remember the collection of curios he possessed. Probably he owns a
schooner, and it's more than probable that this line and this bit of
canvas came from it."
"I see what you're driving at," said the Inspector. "It's worth
considering. Directly I get to the office I will set men to work to try
and find this mysterious gentleman. You would know him again, my lord?"
"I should know him anywhere," was Beckenham's immediate reply.
"And have you any idea at all where this house, to which he conducted
you, is located?"
"None at all. I only know that it was about half-way down a street of
which all the houses, save the one at the corner--which was a grocer's
shop--were one-storied villas."
"Nothing a little more definite, I suppose?"
"Stay! I remember that there was an empty house with broken windows
almost opposite, and that on either side of the steps leading up to the
front door were two stone eagles with out-stretched wings. The head of
one of the eagles--the left, I think--was missing."
The Inspector noted these things in his pocket-book, and just as he had
finished we picked up a cab and called it to the side walk. When we had
got in and given the driver Mr. Wetherell's address, I said to the
Inspector--"What are you going to do first?"
"Put some men on to find Mr. Draper, and some more to find a schooner
with her blocks newly painted green."
"You won't be long in letting us know what you discover?" I said.
"Remember how anxious we are."
"You may count on my coming to you at once with any news I may procure,"
he answered.
A few moments later we drew up at Mr. Wetherell's door. Bidding the
Inspector good-bye we went up the steps and rang the bell. By the time
the cab was out in the street again we were in the house making our way,
behind the butler, to Mr. Wetherell's study.
The old gentleman had not gone to bed, but sat just as I had left him so
many hours before. As soon as we were announced he rose to receive us.
"Thank God, Mr. Hatteras, you have come back!" he said. "I have been in
a perfect fever waiting for you. What have you to report?"
"Not very much, I'm afraid," I answered. "But first let me have the
pleasure of introducing the real Marquis of Beckenham to you, whom we
have had the good fortune to find and rescue."
Mr. Wetherell bowed gravely and held out his hand.
"My lord," he said, "I am thankful that you have been discovered. I look
upon it as one step towards the recovery of my poor girl. I hope now
that both you and Mr. Hatteras will take up your abode with me during
the remainder of your stay in the colony. You have had a scurvy welcome
to New South Wales. We must see if we can't make up to you for it. But
you look thoroughly worn out; I expect you would like to go to bed."
He rang the bell, and when his butler appeared, gave him some
instructions about preparing rooms for us.
Ten minutes later the man returned and stated that our rooms were ready,
whereupon Mr. Wetherell himself conducted Beckenham to the apartment
assigned to him. When he returned to me, he asked if I would not like to
retire too, but I would not hear of it. I could not have slept a wink,
so great was my anxiety. Seeing this, he seated himself and listened
attentively while I gave him an outline of Beckenham's story. I had
hardly finished before I heard a carriage roll up to the door. There was
a ring at the bell, and presently the butler, who, like ourselves, had
not dreamt of going to bed, though his master had repeatedly urged him
to do so, entered and announced the Inspector.
Wetherell hobbled across to receive him with an anxious face. "Have you
any better tidings for me?" he asked.
"Not very much, I'm afraid, sir," the Inspector said, shaking his head.
"The best I have to tell you is that your carriage and horse have been
found in the yard of an empty house off Pitt Street."
"Have you been able to discover any clue as to who put them there?"
"Not one! The horse was found out of the shafts tied to the wall. There
was not a soul about the place."
Wetherell sat down again and covered his face with his hands. At that
instant the telephone bell in the corner of the room rang sharply. I
jumped up and went across to it. Placing the receivers to my ears, I
heard a small voice say, "Is that Mr. Wetherell's house, Potts Point?"
"Yes," I answered.
"Who is speaking?"
"Mr. Hatteras. Mr. Wetherell, however, is in the room. Who are you?"
"Detective officer. Will you tell Mr. Wetherell that Mr. Draper's house
has been discovered?"
I communicated the message to Mr. Wetherell, and then the Inspector
joined me at the instrument and spoke. "Where is the house?" he
inquired.
"83, Charlemagne Street--north side."
"Very good. Inspector Murdkin speaking. Let plain clothes men be
stationed at either end of the street, and tell them to be on the look
out for Draper, and to wait for me. I'll start for the house at once."
He rang off and then turned to me.
"Are you too tired to come with me, Mr. Hatteras?" he inquired.
"Of course not," I answered. "Let us go at once."
"God bless you!" said Wetherell. "I hope you may catch the fellow."
Bidding him good-bye, we went downstairs again, and jumped into the cab,
which was directed to the street in question.
Though it was a good distance from our starting-point, in less than half
an hour we had pulled up at the corner. As the cab stopped, a tall man,
dressed in blue serge, who had been standing near the lamp-post, came
forward and touched his hat.
"Good-morning, Williams," said the Inspector. "Any sign of our man?"
"Not one, sir. He hasn't come down the street since I've been here."
"Very good. Now come along and we'll pay the house a visit."
So saying he told the cabman to follow us slowly, and we proceeded down
the street. About half-way along he stopped and pointed to a house on
the opposite side.
"That is the house his lordship mentioned, with the broken windows, and
this is where Mr. Draper dwells, if I am not much mistaken--see the
eagles are on either, side of the steps, just as described."
It was exactly as Beckenham had told us, even to the extent of the
headless eagle on the left of the walk. It was a pretty little place,
and evidently still occupied, as a maid was busily engaged cleaning the
steps.
Pushing open the gate, the Inspector entered the little garden and
accosted the girl.
"Good-morning," he said politely. "Pray, is your master at home?"
"Yes, sir; he's at breakfast just now."
"Well, would you mind telling him that two gentlemen would like to see
him?"
"Yes, sir."
The girl rose to her feet, and, wiping her hands on her apron, led the
way into the house. We followed close behind her. Then, asking us to
wait a moment where we were, she knocked at a door on the right, and
opening it, disappeared within.
"Now," said the Inspector, "our man will probably appear, and we shall
have him nicely."
The Inspector had scarcely spoken before the door opened again, and a
man came out. To our surprise, however, he was very tall and stout, with
a round, jovial face, and a decided air of being satisfied with himself
and the world in general.
"To what do I owe the honour of this visit?" he said, looking at the
Inspector.
"I am an Inspector of Police, as you see," answered my companion, "and
we are looking for a man named Draper, who yesterday was in possession
of this house."
"I am afraid you have made some little mistake," returned the other. "I
am the occupier of this house, and have been for some months past. No
Mr. Draper has anything at all to do with it."
The Inspector's face was a study for perfect bewilderment. Nor could
mine have been much behind it. The Marquis had given such a minute
description of the dwelling opposite and the two stone birds on the
steps, that there could be no room for doubt that this _was_ the house.
And yet it was physically impossible that this man could be Draper; and,
if it were the place where Beckenham had been drugged, why were the
weapons, etc., he had described not in the hall?
"I cannot understand it at all," said the Inspector, turning to me.
"This is the house, and yet where are the things with which it ought to
be furnished?"
"You have a description of the furniture, then?" said the owner. "That
is good, for it will enable me to prove to you even more clearly that
you are mistaken. Pray come and see my sitting-rooms for yourselves."
He led the way into the apartment from which he had been summoned, and
we followed him. It was small and nicely furnished, but not a South-Sea
curio or native weapon was to be seen in it. Then we followed him to the
corresponding room at the back of the house. This was upholstered in the
latest fashion; but again there was no sign of what Beckenham had led us
to expect we should find. We were completely nonplussed.
"I am afraid we have troubled you without cause," said the Inspector, as
we passed out into the hall again.
"Don't mention it," the owner answered; "I find my compensation in the
knowledge that I am not involved in any police unpleasantness."
"By the way," said the Inspector suddenly, "have you any idea who your
neighbours may be?"
"Oh, dear, yes!" the man replied. "On my right I have a frigidly
respectable widow of Low Church tendencies. On my left, the Chief Teller
of the Bank of New Holland."
"In that case we can only apologize for our intrusion and wish you
good-morning."
"Pray don't apologize. I should have been glad to have assisted you.
Good-morning."
We went down the steps again and out into the street. As we passed
through the gate, the Inspector stopped and examined a mark on the
right-hand post. Then he stooped and picked up what looked like a
pebble. Having done so we resumed our walk.
"What on earth can be the meaning of it all?" I asked. "Can his lordship
have made a mistake?"
"No, I think not. We have been cleverly duped, that's all."
"What makes you think so?"
"I didn't think so until we passed through the gate on our way out. Now
I'm certain of it. Come across the street."