RUN TO EARTH.
In half an hour, more or less, Vernon came to himself slowly, and
opened his eyes in a bewildered manner. He was in complete darkness,
and for the moment could not remember where he was or what had taken
place. Gradually memory returned to him and he sat up painfully to
recall details. His head throbbed with the violence of the fall, and
the short, sharp struggle had set his nerves jangling like ill-tuned
bells. Rising to his feet with an effort he wondered why the Indian
had not finished him off, then recollected the rapid words of Maunders
in an unknown tongue. Probably he had been speaking Tamil and had
ordered the man not to go to extremities. As in the case of Colonel
Towton, when the creature had been warned by Diabella, or, rather, by
Maunders, as in this instance, the native had stopped short of actual
murder. In Maunders' desperate enterprise it was necessary that he
should remain on the right side of the law.
Striking a match, Vernon ascertained that he was still in the tent,
for its blue glimmer showed the figures and hieroglyphics weirdly
flickering on the canvas walls. Apparently the criminals, for they
were nothing else, had fled, leaving him insensible, and Vernon
wondered that he had not been discovered. But when he walked outside
he saw on the door a notice stating that the booth was closed for an
hour, and guessed that in this way Maunders had provided time for
flight. So warned, no one would enter the tent, and evidently both the
noise of the struggle and his cry for assistance had passed unheeded.
Vernon drew a long breath and stood where he was, watching the crowd
of people merry-making under hundreds of coloured lamps, quite
oblivious to the fact that a tragedy had nearly taken place under
their very noses. He wondered what was best to be done.
It was useless to go to those in authority at The Georgian Hall as no
one would credit his wild tale, although the flight of Diabella and
her accomplices might lend colour to his narrative. Moreover, Vernon
decided that more than ever was it necessary to hunt down Maunders in
secrecy, as he wished for a full explanation from him before calling
in Drench to assist. Likewise, for the sake of Ida, of Mrs. Bedge, and
Lady Corsoon, Vernon wished if possible to avoid publicity, since any
scandal would certainly bring their names into unpleasant notoriety.
For these reasons the young man left The Georgian Hall without telling
anyone what had happened. But he chuckled as he went to think how the
public would be disappointed to find the tent of the sorceress empty.
Also, how amazed those managing the bazaar would be to discover that
Diabella had vanished with her takings for the day, which would be
considerable. Vernon felt quite sure that a man so unscrupulous as
Maunders would not hesitate to seize the till seeing that, having been
exposed, and doubtful if his old schoolfellow would hold his tongue,
he would want all the money he could get to assist his flight.
The question was to learn whither he had fled and what track to follow
in order to hunt him down. It was close upon seven o'clock, and
outside The Georgian Hall Vernon hesitated as to his next step. He
wondered whether it would be better to go home and retire to bed,
since he felt shaken by the struggle, or to seek out Colonel Towton
and enlist him as a fellow-pursuer in the man-hunt. Finally he decided
to take a taxi to the Colonel's chambers and relate what had happened,
for he knew that unless he discussed the matter he would only worry
the whole night over the catastrophe. He therefore fortified himself
with a stiff brandy and soda at a near hotel and pulled himself
together for a serious conversation. And serious enough it would be
for Constantine Maunders, who could not be permitted to continue in
his nefarious career.
As it happened, Towton, late in dressing for dinner, had not yet left
his rooms for the Athenian Club. Vernon arrived at a quarter to eight,
just as the Colonel opened the door. The two came face to face with
mutual joy at meeting.
"My dear Vernon, I am glad to see you. I am simply dying to have a
talk, as I can do nothing but think of the entanglement in which we
find ourselves."
"You can't be more pleased than I am at having found you, Colonel. I
have had an adventure with Diabella."
"The deuce. Have you learned who she is?"
"Who _he_ is, you mean. Yes. That mask concealed Constantine
Maunders."
Towton sat down on one of the hall chairs and stared. "Do you mean to
say that the young scamp has been masquerading as a woman?"
Vernon nodded and sat down wearily, for his bones ached. "I presume he
thought that there would be less danger of discovery if he changed his
sex. I expect he wore those long Egyptian robes over his ordinary
clothes. When discarding them he would reappear as Maunders, and could
easily escape without being noticed in the crowd. He's clever, is
Constantine, and yet not clever enough."
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Towton gruffly and
rising to his feet. "Suppose you come with me to the Athenian and tell
me all about the matter."
"I'm not in evening kit."
"Oh, the deuce take that," said the Colonel cheerfully.
"And I'm rather knocked up with my fight."
"Fight? Did Maunders show fight?"
"No. Your Hindoo did. He assaulted me as he did you and left his job
unfinished in the same way. It's a long story and I want your
assistance. Go and have your dinner, Colonel, and I'll lie down on the sofa
in your sitting-room until you return."
"Pooh! pooh! I can't eat with such news as this exciting me." Towton
threw off his coat and hung his silk hat on a peg. "Come into the
sitting-room and I'll send my man to the nearest restaurant for a
meal. Meanwhile you'd better have a peg, for you look as white as a
winter's day."
"No, thank you, Colonel. I had a brandy and soda just after leaving
The Georgian Hall," said Vernon as they entered the sitting-room.
"Have you been there--at the bazaar?"
"Yes. Diabella had set up her tent there and was telling fortunes. I
heard of this at Lady Corsoon's the other day, and so ventured to
beard the lioness in her den."
"And the lioness turned out to be a lion," chuckled Towton throwing
himself into a chair after making the sofa comfortable with cushions
for his guest. "Well, we'll have the whole story after a makeshift
dinner, for, hang it, your disclosure has taken away a very excellent
appetite. Bendham!" The Colonel turned to the retired soldier who
acted as his valet and who had just entered the room, "go round to
the nearest restaurant and tell them to send in the best small dinner
they have, for two. Look sharp, now. You can lay the cloth in the
smoking-room; we'll make shift there."
Bendham saluted military fashion and took a speedy departure, while
his master turned his head in the direction of Vernon. "Tell me all
that has happened to you now," he said easily; "it will be some time
before the dinner makes its appearance, and I'm on tenterhooks. The
deuce, to think that our blackguard friend--for he is that, I
swear--should be earning his money as a fortune-teller. It's worse
than----" Towton hesitated.
"Than my profession of a detective, you would say, Colonel," finished
Vernon languidly. "I should rather think so. I assist the law, and
Maunders breaks it. But neither profession is tempting to a
gentleman."
"Oh, hang your profession," said Towton impatiently. "You will soon
enter into your kingdom when Sir Edward gives up the ghost. And it's
just as well that you have some experience in thief-catching seeing
what scoundrels we have to deal with. Maunders, by jove! Now we'll be
able to find out how he came to know that Ida wasn't Dimsdale's
daughter. No wonder he decided to give her up, seeing that he was
after the money. What did he say?"
"Nothing. He cleared out of the tent as soon as I discovered his
identity."
"Where is he now?" demanded the Colonel sharply.
"I don't know. That's what I wish to speak to you about. And, to make
things quite clear, as I want your opinion, you had better hear the
whole story."
Towton intimated his desire to be informed of what had taken place,
and listened attentively while Vernon detailed all that had happened
since Mrs. Crimer had informed him of Diabella's proposed appearance
at the bazaar. He ended with a description of his recovering from
insensibility in the deserted tent and his subsequent decision to
consult the Colonel before-taking any steps. "And my reason for
wishing to move quietly is obvious," was the concluding remark of the
young man.
"Yes! yes! I quite understand. We must keep Miss Corsoon's name and
that of Miss Dimsdale out of the papers. By the way, what did this
fellow mean by hinting in his confounded fortune-telling at disgrace
to someone closely connected with Miss Corsoon? Does he mean her
mother or her father?"
Vernon felt a trifle confused. In his interest in the recital he had
unconsciously let slip more than he had been prepared to impart. Both
as a detective and as a gentleman he was bound to keep Lady Corsoon's
secret, and as the disclosure of it was not particularly pertinent to
the matter in hand he brushed aside Towton's question with a scornful
laugh. "Oh, I daresay that was all patter. Maunders knows that I love
Lucy and thought to intimidate me by a threat that he had power to
force the mother to support his preposterous claim to marry the girl.
But after this exposure he will scarcely dare to come forward."
"The blackguard," cried the honest Colonel heatedly; "he blackens the
character of both man and woman in his endeavours to earn his dirty
money. But I thought he was supposed to be at Gerby Hall?"
"Oh, he doubtless arranged that so as to provide himself with an
_alibi_."
"Why the deuce should he provide himself with an <I>alibi?</I>"
"Can't you see that Maunders must be The Spider?" said Vernon
impatiently. Towton leaped to his feet and began to walk to and fro
much perturbed. "Oh, impossible! I don't like Maunders; all the same,
it seems incredible that he should be a murderer."
"I can't see that myself," said Vernon drily. "Maunders is half a
Greek and is as wily a bird as ever had salt put on its tail. Whether
he gets it from his Greek father or from his English mother I can't
say, but he certainly has that strong criminal taint, which induces
him to get money for his whims by illegal methods rather than by
honest toil. Besides, we can't say if he killed Dimsdale, even though,
as is apparent, he is The Spider. Miss Hest declared to me in all
innocence, and not with any intention of defending him, that Maunders
was with her nearly all the evening."
"Then he can't be The Spider," insisted the Colonel, "for undoubtedly
The Spider killed poor old Dimsdale."
"So we thought; so everyone thinks; and yet--well, of course, it's not
impossible that Maunders ordered this nameless native to get the
money, and the man may have executed the murder without instructions."
"Or else," said Towton emphatically, "Maunders may have had his mask
torn off by Dimsdale when he came for the money and murdered the old
man to prevent discovery. It cuts both ways."
"Pardon me, no, if Miss Hest is to be believed."
"I don't trust that woman," said the Colonel abruptly.
"She is scheming to get Ida to marry her brother."
"I think she will fail there, as the brother is in London."
"What?"
"Yes. I met him both at Lady Corsoon's and at the Bazaar. He said that
his sister _did_ wish to bring about the match, but that, not being
desirous of marrying Ida, he ran away from the Hall."
"Leaving the field clear for Maunders?"
"You forget that Maunders is in town masquerading as Diabella."
"He may have come up for that purpose."
"Well, we can ascertain that from Mr. Hest. He declares that he left
him at Gerby Hall, or that Maunders was expected, I forget which. But
we'll see him to-morrow and ask."
Towton shook his head wisely. "He won't know of Maunders' movements."
"You never can tell. At all events, it will do no harm to ask him. Now
I come to think of it," said Vernon musingly and searching his memory,
"Hest told me to-day at the bazaar that he had received a letter from
his sister saying that Maunders had arrived on Sunday morning. That
was yesterday, so it is impossible to believe that Maunders went down
and came up in such a hurry. It's my opinion that he never went to
Gerby Hall at all."
"And I say, by jove!" cried the Colonel greatly excited, "Hest told a
lie if he said that he received a letter saying that Maunders had
arrived. Even if posted in Bowderstyke last evening it could not reach
him before to-night, and you say he gave you the information this
afternoon?"
"He may have received it at mid-day."
"No," said Towton decidedly. "Our post at Bowderstyke is very
uncertain, as I know to my cost. This evening or to-morrow morning is
the very earliest that Hest could receive a letter posted on Sunday,
and as Maunders did not arrive until then Miss Hest could not have
written before."
"I don't believe that he arrived at all, and I can't conceive why Miss
Hest should tell a falsehood."
"I can. She is scheming for this money. However, I shall go with you
to-morrow and we'll have it out with Hest. Where is he to be found?"
"He is staying with Professor Garrick Gail, at Isleworth."
"The deuce! Ida told me that he did not approve of his sister's
reciting."
"Nor does he. But she asked him to give some message, and the
Professor asked him to stop at Isleworth while he was in town. He did
so, as he explained to me, so that he could persuade the Professor to
induce Miss Hest to give up her career."
"A very lame explanation," said the Colonel grimly. "Gentlemen don't
stay at such places for such weak purposes. I tell you, Vernon, that I
don't believe in those Hests. I never did, although you defended the
sister. They had a bad name at Bowderstyke as a wild family."
"Oh, I thought that Francis Hest was looked upon as a benefactor?"
"He is," admitted the Colonel reluctantly, "he's a crazy
philanthropist, with his parish school-houses and Bolly Reservoir. All
the same, there's a queer taint about them, and they live queer
lives."
"I can't see that. Frances recites in London in a perfectly open and
honest way, and Francis acts in a noble manner as a philanthropist."
"I daresay. All the same, I don't trust either brother or sister: they
quarrel like mad, too."
"Most families do," retorted Vernon drily as he swung himself off the
sofa, "and Frances is certainly trying to further her brother's
interest by securing him an heiress. That doesn't look as though they
quarrelled."
"Humph!" said Towton disbelievingly. "Probably the sister has learned
that Ida isn't an heiress and wants to do her brother a bad turn.
However, it's no use talking, as we get no further. Let us see Hest
to-morrow, and then learn, if we can, the whereabouts of Maunders. All
depends upon the confession of that scamp. But, I tell you what,
Vernon, if our young friend is this poisonous beast of a Spider he
will have left England by to-night's mail."
"Perhaps. But I could not stop him without consulting Drench, and that
means the interference of the police, which we wish to avoid."
"It's a damned tangle altogether," muttered Towton savagely, "and--but
here comes Bendham to announce dinner. Come and eat. To-morrow we can
talk further."
Vernon was quite willing to drop the subject for the time being, as
his head and limbs still ached with the struggle, and he felt more
inclined to go to bed than to sit discussing criminal trickery, which
required a very clear brain. Even at the makeshift dinner, which after
all was dainty and tempting, he was unable to eat much, and excused
himself to his host as speedily as he could consistently with
politeness. After arranging to meet the Colonel next day at three
o'clock at Waterloo Station he went home. A warm bath took the pains
partially away, and he was so tired that almost as soon as his head
rested on the pillow he dropped into a profound sleep. Not a single
dream broke his rest, which was prolonged to ten o'clock the next
morning.
While at breakfast, which he devoured with an excellent appetite,
Vernon recollected that he had not Professor Garrick Gail's exact
address. It was at Isleworth that he lived, but it was necessary to
find the street and the number of the house. This was quickly learned
from an _Era_, which he sent his servant to buy, and he ascertained
that the retired actor dwelt in Siddons Villa, Petterby Road. Vernon
rather regretted that he had not made the appointment with Colonel
Towton earlier, since Mr. Hest might have gone out for the day.
However, he comforted himself with the reflection that in any case
Hest and Towton would meet at dinner on Wednesday. Meanwhile, there
was always the chance that the Yorkshire squire might be at Isleworth,
and in any case Vernon felt curious to see where Miss Hest lived when
in town. Like the Colonel, he was beginning to mistrust that young
lady.
Punctual to the moment Vernon arrived at Waterloo Station, but found
Towton before him. They greeted one another cordially, and Towton
congratulated his friend on his improved looks. And certainly a
night's rest had done wonders for the young man. He felt, as the
saying goes, as fit as a fiddle, and quite looked forward to the
visit. "And I sincerely trust that Mr. Hest is at home," he said
anxiously.
"We can wait for him if he is not," said the Colonel, shouldering his
umbrella in soldier fashion. "I don't leave until I have seen him,
that's all. In one way or another I intend to have these infernal
mysteries cleared up. Upon my soul, sir," said the Colonel bluffly, "I
feel as though I were bathing in dirty water."
"You are not used to the seamy side of life as I am," replied Vernon
as they passed the barrier and stepped into the train.
"No, by jove, sir, I'm not. And once I am married to Ida I shall take
care to leave all this sort of thing alone. Not the thing for a
gentleman by any means. You chuck it also, Vernon."
"I intend to when my uncle dies. Once let Sir Arthur Vernon come into
existence with a good income and Nemo vanishes for ever."
The Colonel nodded his approbation, and the two chatted about their
errand on the way to Isleworth. But all they could do in the absence
of positive fact was to theorise, which was unsatisfactory. But they
hoped when they laid hands on Maunders--no very easy matter, since the
scamp had taken the alarm--to have everything cleared up. Vernon still
held that his former friend was The Spider, but Colonel Towton
disagreed. "No! No! No!" said he decisively, "Maunders may be bad, but
he isn't a murderer."
"He's anything that suits his purpose, so long as he isn't found out,"
was Vernon's retort. "He's clever----"
"And cunning, but he isn't bold, and would be sure not to bring
himself within reach of the hands of justice by bloodshed."
"He has brought himself quite close enough in other ways," replied
Vernon.
In this way they talked, and in due time arrived at the charming
suburb of Isleworth, which looked quite countrified. The two descended
the steps and passed along a narrow path which led out of the station
into the road. An inquiry from a passing butcher-boy on a bicycle soon
advised them of the whereabouts of Petterby Road, and shortly they
found themselves facing a double-fronted house with a small and
neglected garden between it and the quiet side-road.
"The sluggard's domain," said Towton with disgust, for, like most
military men, he was excessively tidy. "Might be made pretty if
attended to, by jove."
"I don't think retired actors go in much for gardening," said Vernon
with a smile, as he reached for the knocker.
A stout woman, with the remains of heavy good looks, opened the door
with the air of a tragedy queen, although her dress was scarcely
regal. Vernon asked if he could see Mr. Hest and received a reply in
the negative, as it seemed that Mr. Hest was absent. "But I anticipate
that he will return at a comparatively early hour," said the lady
grandiloquently.
"Can we see Professor Gail?" asked Vernon, determined to enter the
house and wait for hours if necessary.
"Professor Garrick Gail," said the lady, giving him the entire name
with the air of a Siddons, "is resting prior to going later to the
Curtain Theatre. But if your errand is pressing----"
"Yes, it is. Please give the Professor my card."
"I am Mrs. Garrick Gail, formerly Miss Hettie Montgomery," said the
lady in haughty tones, "and I do not convey messages. Maria!" she
beckoned to a small servant whose not very clean face peeped under her
substantial arm, "convey this intimation to your master. Gentlemen,"
she flung open the door grandly, "enter, and repose yourselves in the
drawing-room."
Vernon smiled at the tinsel majesty of the actress, but the Colonel,
without moving a muscle of his good-looking face, marched in stiffly.
Shortly they found themselves in a tawdry room of no great size,
crammed with theatrical photographs and furnished in a poor,
pretentious manner, which revealed poverty, while it aped the genteel.
Mrs. Garrick Gail, formerly Miss Hettie Montgomery, conducted them in
with the air of one accustomed to the centre of the stage and then
departed stating that her husband would shortly do himself the honour
of waiting on them.
"What airs!" murmured Towton, recalling his Shakespeare indistinctly;
"an intolerable quantity of sack to a pennyworth of bread."
"These actors and actresses are always in the glare of the
footlights," said Vernon, sitting down cautiously on a shaky chair.
"By the way, Colonel, if I do a little business with the Professor
don't look more surprised than you can help."
"Business? What business?"
"I intend to ask if Miss Frances Hest is open to an engagement. It is
necessary, since both you and I are beginning to mistrust that young
lady, to be diplomatic."
"That means you mistrust this actor also and wish to throw him off the
scent?"
Vernon nodded. "Exactly, and--hush----" He stopped and composed his
features as the door opened and Professor Gail stalked into the room,
like the Ghost of Hamlet's father.
Anyone could see at a glance that the man was an actor. He was tall,
and lean, and solemn, yet with a twinkle in his deep-sunken eyes,
which showed that he could play comedy as well as tragedy. His bluish
jowl, from frequent close shaving, his long hair, his measured
gestures, and his lordly gait all revealed one who was used to the
world behind the curtain. His voice was deep and sonorous and his
enunciation almost too perfect; nor did he clip his words
colloquially, but gave them their full length and full meaning.
Finally, he had a certain dignity, habitual to one who had played many
a kingly part in his time, and who in ordinary life found it difficult
not to relapse into blank verse.
"Colonel Towton--Arthur Vernon," he read from the pencilled card.
"These are your names, I take it? And your business, gentlemen?"
"Well, we are killing two birds with one stone," said Vernon easily,
as the actor sat down in a regal manner as though the arm-chair were a
throne. "My friend here wishes to see Mr. Hest."
"He is absent for the moment, sir, but will return anon. Will you wait
or will you leave a message."
"I prefer to wait," said Towton stiffly, as he did not like the
atmosphere or the company. "When do you expect Mr. Hest back?"
"Well, sir, he may return in twenty minutes or in sixty, which is to
say, on the hour. As my guest he has full freedom to go and return
when he desires. I am content that you should remain, and if any
refreshment----"
"Thank you, no," interrupted the Colonel hastily but politely.
"It is well. And you, sir?" The Professor turned to Vernon. "Nothing
for me, thank you. I have called both to see Mr. Hest and yourself,
sir, as I wish to engage Miss Hest to recite at the 'At Home' of a
friend of mine. Lady Brankworth. Perhaps you know her?"
"Well. I know her well. I have superintended amateur plays in her
drawing-room on more than one occasion. Ah! so she desires the
services of my talented pupil? And on what date?"
"Thursday week, I think. But I am not sure. I shall have to see her
again and then can let you know. Miss Hest is away, I fancy."
"In her ancestral home in Yorkshire," said the actor rolling his words
out grandly, "but she returns shortly and will be delighted to accept
of the engagement provided the fees----"
"Those will be all right, Professor. Lady Brankworth pays liberally."
"And so she ought, to secure the services of Miss Hest. I assure you,
sir, that I have rarely come across a lady who recites so nobly. If
she would only pay attention to her art instead of indulging in social
frivolity with that unfortunate young lady who lost her father at
Hampstead, she would become one of our greatest actresses."
"I fancy her brother does not wish her to go on the stage," said
Vernon.
Professor Garrick Gail waved his hand and then thrust it into his coat
in Napoleonic fashion. "He is prejudiced, prejudiced. I would he were
on the stage himself, if only because he resembles his sister, my
talented pupil, so closely. As Viola and Sebastian in 'Twelfth Night,'
they would take the town by storm. Always provided," said the old
actor with another wave, "that Mr. Hest has the same talent in measure
as his sister has: a fact I am by no means sure of."
"They are very like one another," broke in Towton coldly.
"For that reason I wish both were on the stage to play in twin parts,"
replied the Professor in his most stately manner. "They are as like as
two eggs, as you observe, sir. But Mr. Hest thinks little of our
glorious profession, and is staying here in the vain hope of inducing
me to persuade his sister, my talented pupil, to surrender the laurel
wreath of the stage. Needless to say, I decline to commit so great a
crime."
How long the Professor would have gone on descanting on the histrionic
capabilities of Frances Hest it is hard to say, but his eloquence was
cut short by the entrance of Mrs. Gail, who swept an apologetic
curtsey to the gentlemen for her sudden appearance. She then whispered
to her husband, and Vernon caught a word or two about "a bill--man at
the back door--must have his money," etc. Gail looked perturbed and
rose quickly.
"A small domestic concern, gentlemen," he said, stalking to the door
followed by his wife. "Excuse me while I adjust matters. I shall
return soon," and he made his exit with Mrs. Gail in a most approved
stage fashion.
When they were alone the Colonel asked a question: "Can you get this
engagement for Miss Hest?"
"Oh, yes. Lady Brankworth is a great friend of mine and is always
giving parties. There will be no difficulty in my making good my word.
The old man seems to be all right and his wife also. Whatever devilry
the Hests may be up to, that worthy couple know nothing about it."
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when the door opened quickly
and a man entered the room in great haste. Vernon sprang to his feet.
"Maunders once more!" He cried; "The very man I wish to see."
And Maunders it was, looking like a trapped tiger, furious and
despairing.