The mystery by which old Sam Statham sometimes passed beyond that
white-enamelled door was inexplicable.
Whenever he left the library to ascend the stairs, Charlie Rolfe stole
quietly out behind him, and listened. Sometimes he distinctly heard the
key in the lock; at others it sounded as though the closed door yielded
to his touch and swung aside for him to pass beyond. It closed always
with a thud, as though felt had been placed upon it to prevent any
metallic clang.
While Charlie watched the great financier's every movement, Max was
unceasing in his inquiries regarding Marion. Advertisements had Men
published in the "personal" columns of various newspapers, and the
private inquiry agents whose aid he had sought had been unremitting in
their vigilance.
The whole affair from beginning to end now showed the existence of some
powerful hand which had directed and rendered the mystery beyond
solution. The strange re-appearance of Jean Adam and Leonard Lyle had
been followed quickly by the extraordinary flight of Doctor Petrovitch
and Maud. The latter had only an hour before she had disappeared into
space made some remarkable confession to Marion--a confession which
might or might not save Samuel Statham from an ignominious death.
But the girl had preserved the secret of the confession confided to her
by her friend, and, preferring shame and misjudgment, she in turn had
disappeared, whither no one knew.
The two men, brother and lover, who had now united their forces to solve
the problem and at the same time ascertain for themselves what the
secret of the house in Park Lane really was, were at their wits' ends.
Their inquiries and their efforts always led them into a _cul-de-sac_.
At every turn they seemed foiled and baffled. And was it surprising
when it was considered the power of Samuel Statham and the means at his
command for the preservation of a secret?
Charlie felt that he was being watched hourly by one or other of those
spies who sometimes gave such valuable information to the head of the
firm. Some of these secret agents of Statham he knew by sight, but
there were others unseen and unknown.
Even though Max and his friend were able to enter unheard and secrete
themselves before the place was locked up by old Levi, yet there was
that white door barring their passage to the mystery beyond. Many times
they discussed the possibilities, and each time hesitated. Charlie was
sorely puzzled regarding the key of the iron door. Sometimes it was
undoubtedly used, sometimes not.
At last one evening, after both men had dined at the St James's, of
which Max was a member, they resolved upon a bold move. Charlie
suggested it, and the other was at once ready and eager.
So after Max had been round to his rooms to put on a suit of dark
tweeds, he went to Charlie's chambers where the various implements were
produced and laid upon the table. It was then nearly ten o'clock.
Rolfe, having sent Green to the other end of Jermyn Street out of the
way, drew out the whisky decanter from the tantalus stand, poured out
two "pegs" with soda, and drank:
"Success to the elucidation of old Statham's secret."
Then, carefully stowing the various articles in their pockets, they
slipped down into the street and were out of sight before the
inquisitive Green had returned.
Arrived in Park Lane, after a hasty walk, they strolled slowly along by
the park railings past the house. All was in darkness save the hall,
where the electric lamp showed above the fanlight. Old Sam was probably
in his study, smoking his last cigar, for the shutters were that night
closed, as they sometimes were. The shutters of the basement were also
closed behind their iron bars, while at the upstairs windows all the
blinds were carefully drawn.
Indeed, the exterior of the house presented nothing unusual. It was the
same as any other mansion in Park Lane. Yet there were many who on
going up and down the thoroughfare afoot or on the motor-'buses jerked
their thumbs at it and whispered. The house had earned a reputation for
mystery. Sam Statham was a mystery in himself, and of his house many
weird things were alleged.
Thrice the pair passed and repassed. At the corner of Deanery Street
stood a constable, and while he remained there it was injudicious to
attempt an entry with a latchkey. So they strolled back in the
direction of the fountain, conversing in undertones.
Max glanced at his watch, and found that it wanted a quarter to eleven.
At last they crossed the road and passed the door. All seemed quiet.
At that moment the only object in sight was a receding motor-'bus
showing its red tail-light. Not a soul was on the pavement.
"All clear!" cried Charlie, scarce above a whisper, as he slipped up the
two or three steps, followed by his companion.
That moment was an exciting one. Next second, however, the key was in
the latch, and without a sound the wards of the lock were lifted.
In another moment the pair stood within the brightly-lit hall, and the
door was closed noiselessly behind them.
Standing there, within a few yards of the door of the library, where
from the smell of tobacco smoke it was evident that old Sam was taking
his ease, they were in imminent risk of discovery. Besides, Levi had a
habit of moving without sound in his old felt slippers, and might at any
moment appear up the stairs from the lower regions.
Instinctively Charlie glanced upstairs towards the locked door. But
next second he motioned his companion to follow, and stole on tiptoe
over the thick Turkey carpets past the millionaire's door and on into a
kind of small conservatory which lay behind the hall and was in
darkness.
Though leading from the room behind the library, it was a fairly good
spot as a place of hiding, yet so vigilant was old Levi that the chances
were he would come in there poking about ere he retired to rest.
The two men stood together behind a bank of what had once been
greenhouse plants, but all of them had died by neglect and want of water
long ago. The range of pots and dried stalks still remained, forming an
effectual barrier behind which they could conceal themselves.
Through the long French window of the room adjoining the light shone,
and Charlie, slowly creeping forward, peered within.
Then he whispered to his friend, and both men bent to see what was
transpiring.
The scene was unusual.
A full view of the library could be obtained from where they stood in
the darkness. In the room two of the big armchairs had been pulled up,
with a small coffee table between them. On one side was old Sam, lazily
smoking one of his big cigars, while on the other was Levi, lying back,
his legs stretched out, smoking with perfect equanimity and equally with
his master. Upon the table was a decanter of whisky and two glasses,
and, judging from the amused countenances of both men, Sam had been
relating to Levi something which struck the other as humorous.
It was curious, to say the least, that Levi, the humble, even cringing,
servant should place himself upon an equality with his master. That he
was devoted to old Sam, Charlie knew well, but this friendship he had
never suspected. There was a hidden reason for it all, without a doubt.
The two intruders watched with bated breath, neither daring to make a
sound.
They saw Levi, his cigar stuck in the side of his mouth, lean back and
thrust his hands deep into his trousers-pockets, uttering some words
which they could not catch. His manner had changed, and so had Sam's.
From gay the pair had suddenly grown grave. Upon the millionaire's brow
was a dark shadow, such as Charlie, who knew him intimately in all his
moods, had seldom seen there.
Levi was speaking quickly, his attitude changed, as though giving
serious advice, to which his master listened with knit brows and deep
attention. Then, with a suddenness that caused the two watchers to
start, the electric bell at the hall-door sounded.
In an instant Levi tossed his cigar into the fire, whipped off his glass
from the table, and in a single instant became the grave family servant
again, as with a quick gesture of his hand he left the room to answer
the summons at the door.
In a few moments he returned, closing the door quickly after him, so
that whoever was in the hall could not overhear what was said.
Approaching his master he made some announcement in a whisper, whereat
the millionaire clenched his fist, and struck violently in the air.
Levi urged calmness; that was evident from his manner.
Then Sam, with a resigned air, shrugged his shoulders, paced the room in
quick agitation, and turned upon his servant with his eyes flashing with
anger.
Again Levi placed his thin hand on the old man's arm which calmed him
into almost instant submission.
Then the grave-faced old servant went out, and an instant later ushered
in a woman, all in black--a woman who, in instant, both Max and Charlie
recognised.
They both stood watching, breathless--rooted to the spot.
The mystery, as they afterwards discovered, was even greater than they
had ever anticipated.
It was beyond human credence.