By the discovery of the duplicate of Lord Warnham's private seal in the
possession of my dead companion, it became impressed upon my mind that
Dudley Ogle, the man in whom I had placed implicit trust, had not only
abused my confidence by making love to Ella, but was a spy in the
Russian secret service. Try how I would I could see no extenuating
circumstances, and as next morning, when sitting alone in my London
flat, moody and disconsolate, I calmly reflected upon the startling
events of the past few days, I saw plainly, from Ella's attitude when I
had exhibited the brass stamp, that, notwithstanding her declaration to
the contrary, she had seen it before.
It seemed placed beyond all doubt that Dudley had acted in conjunction
with certain agents, who had by some means ascertained the very day and
hour that the secret convention would arrive from Berlin. Then Dudley,
armed with the forged duplicate, called upon me, and while we were
together extracted the document from my pocket and substituted the
envelope. Yet there was the registration mark upon it, so cleverly
imitated as to defy detection. How that had been placed upon the dummy
puzzled me, for the designation I had written could not be known until
the envelope, with its precious contents, had been filched from my
pocket.
The reason of Dudley's visit to Warnham was now, to a certain extent,
explained. More than probable it seemed that through bribery he had
obtained from one of the servants an impression in wax of the Earl's
private seal, and from it the brass stamp had been cut. The theft of
the document had been accomplished with a neatness that seemed almost
miraculous; and if Dudley really had stolen it, he must have been a most
adroit pickpocket. Nevertheless, even though his every action had now
corroborated up to the hilt the suspicion that he was a spy, I could
not, somehow, believe him capable of such crafty, nay devilish,
deception. Friends that we were, I could have trusted him with any
secret, or with any of my possessions; but these revelations startled
and amazed me.
Still there was a more remarkable and puzzling phase of the mystery. If
Ella's fears were well grounded, why had he been murdered, and by whom?
The mysterious secret possessed by the woman I adored, the woman who
held me under the spell of her marvellous beauty, was of a tragic and
terrible nature, I felt assured. No doubt it had some connection with
Dudley's death, and that sinister circumstance, once elucidated, would,
I knew, furnish a very valuable clue to the identity of the spy, if
perchance the innocence of my companion should be established, as I
hoped it might be.
There was still one fact, too, that required explanation, one that
seemed to prove conclusively that Dudley was in the pay of our enemies.
I had found, on looking over his possessions in our cottage at
Shepperton, some pieces of crumpled foolscap. He had evidently intended
to throw them away, but being unable to get rid of them at the moment,
had placed them in a drawer and locked them up. On smoothing them out,
I found another piece of paper inside. To my astonishment I saw it was
a letter written by me, while the pieces of foolscap accompanying it
were covered with words and sentences in ink and pencil, showing how
carefully he had studied and copied all the characteristics of my
handwriting. These papers were, in themselves, sufficient evidence that
he had practised the forger's art.
I had, after leaving Staines, returned straight to Shepperton, and in
company with a detective carefully investigated all my friend's
belongings. We spent the afternoon and evening in reading through heaps
of letters, but discovered nothing that would lead to any suspicion of
foul play. The detective made notes of one or two of the addresses of
the writers, and took charge of several letters relating to money
matters. When, however, we had removed all the correspondence from the
small wooden box in which it had been kept, the detective ascertained
that there was a false bottom, and unable to find out the secret whereby
it might be opened, we forced it with a chisel.
At first we were disappointed, only one insignificant-looking paper
being therein concealed, but when the officer eagerly opened it I at
once recognised its extreme importance, although I preserved silence.
The paper was nothing less than a Russian passport of a special
character signed by the Chief of Secret Police in St Petersburg, and
countersigned by the Minister of the Interior himself. It was not a
formally printed document, but written in Russian upon official paper
stamped with the double-headed eagle. It was made out in the name of
Dudley Ogle, and after explaining that he was an official engaged on
secret service, gave him complete immunity from arrest within the
Russian Empire.
"What's this, I wonder?" the detective said, puzzled by the unfamiliar
characters in the writing.
Taking it from him I glanced through it, and without betraying the
slightest surprise, answered, "Merely a passport for Russia."
"That doesn't lead us to anything," he replied, taking it from my form,
glancing at it again for an instant, and tossing it back carelessly into
the box.
But when he had completed his investigations, removed whatever letters
and papers he thought might be of use and departed, I secured the
passport and the crumpled foolscap, and giving Juckes orders to remove
my belongings back to London and give up possession of the cottage, I
returned to Rossetti Mansions.
With these undeniable evidences of Ogle's activity as a spy, I was
sitting alone next morning pondering over the best course to pursue, at
last resolving to go to the Foreign Office and boldly place the
startling facts before Lord Warnham.
About noon I knocked at the door of the Minister's private room, and
received, in his deep, hoarse voice, permission to enter. He was alone,
seated at his big writing-table, engrossed in a long, closely-written
document he was studying.
"Well, sir," he exclaimed, with an expression of displeasure when he saw
me, "to what, pray, do I owe this intrusion?"
"I have come," I said, "to clear myself of the charge you have made
against me."
"To clear yourself! Bah!" he cried in disgust, returning to his papers.
"My time is too valuable for further discussion," and he made a
movement to ring the bell for a messenger to conduct me out.
But I placed my hand upon his bony fingers firmly, and stayed it,
saying,--
"It is to your interest, Lord Warnham, as well as to my own, that you
should know the truth."
"A traitor who will sell his country's honour is capable of any
falsehood whereby to justify himself," he snapped savagely.
"I am no traitor," I protested in anger.
His thin, white face relaxed into a bitterly sarcastic smile, and his
lip curled in withering contempt.
"The efforts of ten years' delicate diplomacy with Berlin have been
rendered futile by your treachery or culpable negligence. Now you come
to me with some lame, paltry tale or other, in an endeavour to convince
me that you are neither thief nor spy! Each word of yours only
aggravates your offence. I have dismissed you, and I tell you I decline
to reopen the question."
"But you have accused me of a crime, and I demand to be judged," I
cried.
"I have already judged you," he said, after a pause, laying down his pen
with a sudden calmness, and fixing his grey eyes keenly upon me.
"Yes, falsely."
"You have come to me to prove that I have misjudged you," he said at
last, leaning back in his chair. "Very well. Let me hear your story."
"I have no story further than what I have already told you," I answered.
"You have made a charge against me; I have come to you to refute it."
"By what means?"
"By documentary evidence."
"Documentary evidence!" he exclaimed. "Of what kind?"
"You will remember that I told you of the death of the only man who
could speak regarding my absence from the office and my return."
"Yes. He died mysteriously. The inquest was held yesterday;" and,
taking up a letter from his table, the Earl added, "They report from
Scotland Yard that an open verdict was returned, although one witness, a
woman, alleged murder. Well, what was the allegation? Against
yourself?" he asked, raising his grey, shaggy brows.
"No," I said with emphasis. "I am not a murderer."
"Then why did this woman--what's her name?--Ella Laing," he said,
referring to the letter, "why did she allege foul play?"
"I cannot tell; but all the facts I have ascertained point to the same
conclusion, although the medical evidence negatived any such
suggestion."
"Then what is your contention?"
"That the man who was my friend was a spy," I said.
"You would shift the responsibility upon one who, being dead, can tell
us nothing," he said in a tone of reproachful contempt. "I suspected
this. It was but what might have been expected."
"But I have evidence indisputable that he was a spy," I exclaimed
excitedly. "Read this," and I handed to him Dudley's passport.
Spreading it out before him, he carefully adjusted his gold _pince-nez_,
and after a little difficulty translated it. Then, without expressing
any surprise, he turned it over and held the paper to the light of the
window, examining the water-mark.
"Well," he exclaimed calmly at last, "what else?"
I placed before him the crumpled sheets of foolscap whereon attempts had
been made--and successfully too--to imitate my handwriting, explaining
where I had discovered them. These he also examined very minutely,
giving vent to a low grunt, as was habitual to him when reassured.
"Anything more?" he asked impatiently. "I can't waste time. The
outlook is too serious."
"But you must--you shall spare time to fully investigate this mystery,"
I cried. "You will remember that the dummy envelope you took from your
safe bore an imitation of your private seal?"
"Yes. What of that?"
"Here is the seal with which that impression was made," I replied in
triumph, handing to him the little brass stamp. "I have had the
portions of wax microscopically examined, and they are of the same wax
as was used to seal the dummy."
He took it between his thin fingers that now trembled with excitement.
The production of this object was, I saw, entirely unexpected. Suddenly
rising from his chair he unlocked his great safe and took therefrom the
dummy envelope. Then, returning to his table, he lit a taper and
carefully made an impression in wax of the seal I had given him,
afterwards taking it to the light, and by the aid of a large magnifying
glass compared it closely with the seal upon the dummy.
"And where did you find this seal?" he inquired, glancing across to me.
"Among the contents of the dead man's pockets," I answered.
"Impossible!" he retorted. "The police have possession of everything
found on the man."
"Yes, they had, but this came into my possession yesterday at the
inquest."
"How?"
I hesitated, then, determined to conceal no fact from the great
statesman, I answered boldly,--
"I stole it from the table whereon it was displayed."
"Stole it!" he echoed.
Slowly he turned the brass stamp over in his hand as if deep in thought;
then, with brows knit in anger, he looked me straight in the face,
exclaiming bluntly,--
"Your story is an absolute tissue of lies from beginning to end."
His words staggered me. I had expected him to be eager to further probe
the mystery, and try and elucidate the manner in which Dudley had
manufactured the dummy and exchanged it for the secret convention.
Instead of this he was distrustful and suspicious; indeed, he boldly
accused me of attempting to wilfully mislead him and conceal the truth.
"I have told you no lies. Every word I have uttered is the truth," I
answered, with fierce indignation.
"You certainly never obtained possession of this seal in the manner in
which you would have me believe, for the detectives sent to Staines had
strict injunctions to search for any object that would lead them to
suppose the dead man was not what he represented himself to be, and I
made a special request that any seals discovered might be submitted to
me for examination. If this had been in the dead man's pockets it would
have been brought to me."
"But I tell you it was among the articles found upon him. I picked it
up from the Coroner's table, and finding it was not missed, brought it
to you, rather than inform the police of our suspicions, which I
understood you desired should, for the present, be kept secret."
"I do not believe you," he retorted angrily.
"Ask whoever searched the body, and they will no doubt remember finding
the seal," I answered.
"It is quite unnecessary," he exclaimed.
"Unnecessary? Why?"
"Because I don't believe one word of this elegantly romantic story of
yours."
"But I have brought you evidence in black and white that Ogle was a
spy!" I cried.
"Evidence of a sort," he answered carelessly, returning to his table and
sinking into his armchair. "You have brought these things to me in
order to induce me to believe that they were in the dead man's
possession instead of where they really were--in your own."
"It is false," I protested, flushing at his base and dogged
insinuations.
"So is this elaborate so-called evidence you have brought me," he
answered.
"In what way?" I demanded.
"You wish to know," he cried. "Well, I will tell you. First, the
passport is a forged one, and was never written in St Petersburg."
"Why?" I cried in dismay. "How can you tell?"
"Because its water-mark shows it to be English paper, whereas all
Russian official paper, as this is supposed to be, is manufactured by
Yaronovski, of Moscow, and bears his name."
This fact had never occurred to me, and taking up the paper I examined
the water-mark, finding, to my surprise, the name of a well-known
English mill.
"Then the attempts at imitating your handwriting are quite as
unsatisfactory," he went on. "Indeed, I have no proof that all those
letters and words have not been made by yourself."
"They have not," I protested. "You seem determined not to believe in my
innocence."
"And the seal," he continued, heedless of my interruption. "You
expected that it would be regarded as irresistible proof. Well, in the
first place I do not believe it was discovered on the body, as you
allege; and, secondly, even if it had been, it is no absolute proof that
the dead man was the culprit."
"Why?" I inquired eagerly.
"Because it was not with that seal that the dummy envelope was secured,"
he answered slowly, at the same time handing me the two impressions, and
inviting me to compare them.
This I did with breathless eagerness, by the aid of the magnifying
glass, and in astonishment was compelled to admit that he spoke the
truth. There were several discrepancies in the quarterings of the arms
that I had not before noticed, and I saw instantly that they did not
correspond with those impressed upon the envelope. The amazing
worthlessness of my discoveries held me embarrassed, and I stood
helpless, and in silence, as the Minister hurled at me some bitter
invectives, declaring that I had come to him with an ingenious story,
and evidence that might have convinced a man less shrewd.
"Take your clumsily-forged documents and your attempt to reproduce my
seal, and leave me at once!" he cried, in a terrible ebullition of
wrath, gathering up the objects I had brought and tossing them back to
me. "Your dastardly conduct is too despicable for words; but remember
that to you, and you alone, your country owes the overwhelming
catastrophe that must now inevitably fall upon it."
With these ominous words ringing in my ears I stumbled out, knowing not
whither I went, and scarcely responding to the greetings of the men I
knew, who regarded me in askance. The great central staircase, up which
climbed the brilliantly-uniformed representatives of all civilised
countries on the face of the earth whenever the Minister held his
receptions, I descended with heavy heart, and crossing the grey, silent
courtyard, soon found myself amid the bustle of Parliament Street.
I saw with chagrin how utterly I had failed in my endeavour to elucidate
the mystery, for not only had I been unable to throw any further light
upon the theft of the treaty, or the tragic end of the man I suspected,
but I had actually heaped increased suspicion upon myself. On
reflection, I found myself in accord with the Minister's declaration
that the passport was a forgery, and that the brass stamp was not the
seal used by the spy. These facts were absolutely incontestable. The
only thing remaining was the paper whereon attempts had been made to
imitate my writing. I tried to explain this fact away, and clear the
memory of the dead man of all suspicion, but, alas! could not bring
myself to believe in his innocence. There rankled in my breast the
bitter thought that he had uttered words of love to Ella, and had tried
to induce her to break off her engagement to me. She herself had
acknowledged on oath before the Coroner that they had quarrelled because
she loved me. No. Although this passport was a clumsy imitation, and
the seal had been cut without due regard to the Warnham quarterings, the
plain, incontestable evidence of his forgery remained.
He was, after all, a cunning, despicable scoundrel, who had brought
dishonour upon my name and ruined me both socially and financially. I
found myself smiling grimly at the thought of how quickly retribution
had fallen upon him. If he had died from natural causes it was but a
judgment for his misdeeds; if struck down by an unknown hand it was but
vengeance for his treachery towards his Queen, his country, and his
bosom friend.
Heedless of where I went I walked on, called at my club, I remember, and
thrust my letters into my pocket unopened; then, pursuing my way,
arrived home late in the afternoon. As I entered, Juckes handed me a
note from Ella, telling me that they had left Staines owing to the
tragic affair, and asking me to call that evening at Pont Street, adding
that she wished to see me upon a very important matter. For a long time
I sat alone, smoking and thinking, trying to devise some means by which
I could bring the Earl to believe in my loyalty; but at last, in
desperation, I rose, dressed, and took a cab to Mrs Laing's.
The house was not large, but well ordered, exquisitely furnished, and
there was about everything an air of elegant refinement that betokened
wealth, taste and culture. It was nearly seven when I arrived, and I
was gratified to learn that, with the exception of Beck, who came later,
I was the only guest. Dinner was a much more stately meal at Pont
Street than it had been at Staines, where very often we sat down in
flannels, and I was not sorry when it was over, and I found myself free
to talk alone with Ella. It was plain, from the dark rings about her
eyes, that she had passed a sleepless night, and that her terrible and
mysterious secret bore her down beneath its oppressive weight. Yet she
had greeted me with the same joyous smile, the same hearty hand-shake as
of old, and I had, while sitting at dinner chatting with her, felt
myself wondering how I could ever have brought myself to utter such
bitter reproaches and recriminations as I had done on the previous day.
Her kiss, now that we were alone, thrilled me; her speech, soft and
musical, held me enraptured by its charm.
She told me, in answer to my questions, how she had fared after I left
"The Nook"; how dismal the place had appeared, and how many bitter
memories it would always possess for her. Then, in response to her
suggestion, we walked out upon the balcony, where, under the striped
awning, a table and chairs were set. Here, in the cool night air, the
quiet only broken by an occasional footfall or the tinkle of a passing
cab-bell, we sipped our coffee and gossiped on as lovers will.
Suddenly, while she was telling me of the plans her mother had prepared
for their sojourn for a couple of months at the seaside, the loud,
strident cry of a running newsman broke upon our ears. At first, in the
distance, the voice did not attract our attention, but when it neared
us, the words, hoarse, yet indistinct, held me speechless. I sat
stunned.
Ella herself sprang from her chair, and leaned over the balcony,
straining her ears to catch every sound of the rough, coarse voice. The
man had paused for breath before the house, a bundle of papers across
his shoulder, and the ominous words he shouted were,--
"Extra spe-shall! Probable war against England! Spe-shall! War
against England! Startling statement! Spe-shall!"