If they had gone south, it was useless for me to remain in Oban. Her
appointment with me was in Newcastle, and it seemed certain that she
would sooner or later seek me there. But at that moment my curiosity
was aroused regarding this Mrs Rumbold, as to who and what she was, and
further, as to the identity of Arthur, about whom the dead man had known
so much.
I left Oban and went back to Glasgow. My friend, the hall-porter at the
Central Station, was talkative, but had not seen the lady again. It
struck me that as the bald-headed man had met her in Glasgow, and as she
had left a message for him that she had gone to Edinburgh, she would
naturally avoid both places, or at any rate not halt there.
Had she gone on to Dumfries? She had left a message for me that she was
there. Would she now go there in order to see if I were awaiting her
instead of at Newcastle?
Dumfries, the town of Burns, was on my way down to Carlisle, therefore I
resolved to make a halt there for an hour or two to inquire.
I remained the night in Glasgow, for I was fagged out by so much
travelling, and next day, just before twelve, I alighted at Dumfries. I
had never been there before, but outside the station I saw the Railway
Hotel, and entering, asked whether Mrs Rumbold was staying there.
Yes, she was. Did I wish to see her? asked the lady clerk in the
bureau.
I replied in the affirmative, and sent her my name, "Mr Morton,"
written on a slip of paper.
The waiter returned with a curious look upon his face. I saw in an
instant that something had occurred and was not surprised when he
said,--
"Mrs Rumbold has a bad headache, sir, and would be glad if you'd call
again about five or six. The chambermaid says she's lying down."
"Is there another person with her?" I inquired. "Her own maid, I
mean."
"No, sir. She's alone."
"Are you quite sure of that?"
"Quite. I took her name when she arrived in the hotel. She has no
maid."
"And no lady friend?"
"No. She's entirely alone."
That surprised me. Had Sybil parted from her and gone straight on to
Newcastle in order to find me? There was nothing to be done but to wait
till half-past five, and call again on Mrs Rumbold. I therefore took a
room at the hotel, and lunched in the coffee-room.
The woman's excuse made me suspicious that she wished to avoid meeting
me, and that when I returned at six I should find her gone.
So I passed the time in writing letters, and remained in patience until
half-past five, when I sent up again to know if she would receive me.
The answer came back that she was still too unwell, and I sent word to
her that I could wait, as I wished to see her upon a very important
matter.
My determination showed her that I did not intend that she should
escape; therefore, just before the dinner gong rang the waiter came to
me and said that the lady was in the small drawing-room upstairs and
would see me.
I ascended the stairs wondering what would be the outcome of my
interview. I wanted to ascertain who the woman was and the nature of
the relations between her and Sybil.
When I entered the room a rather elderly lady with whitish hair severely
brushed back and attired in deep black rose to meet me, bowing stiffly
and saying--
"I have not the honour of your acquaintance, Mr Morton, and am rather
curious to know what you want with me."
"Well, madam," I replied, "the fact is I want to ask you a question.
The Honourable Sybil Burnet has been travelling with you dressed as a
lady's-maid, and I am here to learn where she has now gone."
The woman started in surprise, and glared at me. She probably, from my
disguise as a working-man, put me down as a detective.
"And my reply to you, sir, is that Miss Sybil's destination is her own
affair. We parted, and she has gone south. That is all I know."
"But you also know the reason why she is masquerading as a maid; why at
Fort William and at Oban you made people believe she was your maid. You
had a motive, and I think you may as well admit it."
"I do not see your right to question me about my private affairs!" she
exclaimed angrily. "This is monstrous!"
"I have no desire to pry into your affairs, madam," I answered, quite
coolly. "The Honourable Sybil is a friend of mine, and I am anxious to
know her whereabouts," I said.
"But I cannot tell you what I don't know myself. She went on to
Carlisle--that's all I know."
"She parted from you suddenly. Why?" I asked. "Shall I tell you?
Because she is in fear of being followed," I exclaimed, and, smiling,
added, "I think, madam, that I hold greater knowledge of the family than
perhaps even you do yourself. I have known the Scarcliffs all my life.
Old Lady Scarcliff is greatly upset regarding Sybil's protracted
absence. They are beginning to think that something has happened to
her. I can now tell her that she has been with you, masquerading as
your maid, and that you refuse all information concerning her. You
know, I daresay, that the police are actively trying to find her on the
application of her brother, Lord Scarcliff?"
My threat caused her some consternation. I could see that from the way
she fumed and fidgeted.
"To tell Lady Scarcliff such a thing would only be to throw a blame upon
myself of which I am entirely innocent," she protested. "I assure you
that if I knew where she had gone, I would tell you."
"No, pardon me, madam. You would not. You believe that I'm a
detective."
"Your actions certainly betray you," she exclaimed resentfully. "You've
been watching us closely--for what reason?"
"Well," I replied slowly. "The fact is, I am fully aware of the secret
love existing between Sybil Burnet and Arthur Rumbold."
"Sybil and Arthur?" she cried, turning pale and looking me straight in
the face. "What do you mean? Arthur--my boy, Arthur!"