The girl turned to leave, but the old man placed himself between her and
the door.
She stamped her little foot angrily in command to be allowed to pass.
He saw her determination, and hesitated. Then he seemed to commence to
argue, to place before her the probable result of her action in casting
aside the money, but she would hear nothing. Her mind seemed fully made
up. She had spoken her last word, and wished to leave him.
He saw in her decision an attitude antagonistic to himself. He was in
deadly peril. Though his wealth could command all that was good and all
that was bad, though it placed him above his fellow men and rendered him
immune from much, yet it could not ensure her goodwill.
Both Max and Charlie realised plainly that Maud was in possession of
some great secret, and that she had refused a bribe of silence. This
man who had believed that his money could purchase anything had
discovered, to his dismay, that it could not seal her lips. He saw
himself facing an imminent peril, and was undecided how to act.
He argued. But she would not listen. He appealed. But she only smiled
and shook her head.
Her mind was made up. She had decided to refuse the money. He picked
it from the floor and handed it to her again, but she would not take it
in her hand.
Then he crossed to his writing-table, took out his chequebook and
scribbled a cheque--one for a large amount in all probability. Tearing
it from its counterfoil, he gave it to her.
But with an expression of defiance she tore it into four and cast it
upon the floor with a gesture of disgust. And in triumph, before he
could prevent her, she opened the door, and disappeared from the room.
"We must follow her?" whispered Charlie eagerly.
"But, my dear fellow, we can't! We're locked in!"
Rolfe, realising the truth that they were prevented from overtaking his
well-beloved, for whom they had been so long in active search, and that
she must again dip from them into oblivion, gave vent to a forcible
expression of despair.
"Let's remain here," urged Max. "We may learn something else."
"The old man will go to bed," was Charlie's response. "And we will
follow and explore above."
"How?" asked Rolfe.
"That remains to be seen. We must, in this case, act discreetly, and
trust to luck."
"But Maud? I must see her."
"That's impossible at present. You have seen her--that's enough for
to-night. To-morrow we may discover something further--or even
to-night."
Both men, scarce daring to breathe, were watching old Sam.
After the girl had gone, he placed his hand upon his heart, and, with
face white and haggard, he sank into his writing-chair. He had
collapsed as though he had received a sudden blow.
Levi entered hurriedly a few moments later, and, finding his master
leaning forward upon his table muttering to himself, tried to rouse him.
A glance at his face showed that he had collapsed. Levi therefore
rushed across the room, poured out some brandy from the tantalus, and
compelled the old man to swallow it. This, after a few moments, revived
him. The faithful servant, however, stood by in wonderment. He seemed
puzzled as to what had occurred.
But the fragments of the torn cheque scattered upon the carpet showed
defiance on the part of the visitor whom he had just shown out into the
night.
Levi stooped as far as his rheumatism would allow, and slowly, very
slowly, gathered up the torn pieces of paper and placed them in the
basket, his eyes the whole time upon his master.
Straightening himself again, he spoke, making inquiry as to what had
occurred. But his master, with a wave of his hand, commanded his
silence. Then, sinking back in his chair, he remained, staring straight
before him like a man in a dream. He seemed peering into the future--
and he saw only exposure and ruin!
Hands and teeth were clenched, for he realised that he had taken a false
step. He had misjudged his own power and influence. He had believed
that a good and truthful woman could be purchased, as he might purchase
any other thing or chattel.
She had cast his gold into his face. She had insulted him, for she had
spoken a truth which he could not deny. Indeed, that slim, pale-faced
girl, scarce more than a child, held over him power supreme--power for
life, or for death.
The scene within that room was a strange one.
Old Levi, standing statuesque at his master's side, uttered some words.
But the millionaire was silent. He only raised his grey head and sat
staring at the great painting opposite--staring like a man peering into
the grim unknown.
The door that divided the watchers from the watched prevented the words
from being overheard. The thickness of its glass prevented the truth
being known to the two men standing breathless behind it. Had it been
ordinary glass they would no doubt have overheard the conversation
between the old man and his fair visitor.
The anger of both men had been aroused by Statham's attitude towards the
girl. Even Charlie, faithful and devoted as he had been to the
millionaire, had now become fiercely antagonistic, for he had seen by
the old man's countenance that some terrible revenge was intended upon
the girl he loved so dearly.
Levi bent and placed his hand tenderly upon his master's shoulder.
But Statham shook him off, and, straightening himself, staggered to his
feet and paced the room in a frenzy of despair.
Charlie recollected his agitation after the unexpected discovery of Jean
Adam lounging outside the park railings. This repetition of his
apprehension showed him to be in terror of exposure and denunciation.
Maud, so slim, sweet-faced, and innocent, had defied him. She held him,
the man whose power in every European capital was recognised and feared,
in the hollow of her hand.
Why? Ay, to that question there was no answer. They had witnessed the
scene, but they had caught no sound of one single word.
At last Levi succeeded in calming his master. He mixed him another
brandy and soda and handed it to him. The old man seized it with
unsteady hand, and tossed it off at a single gulp.
Then he walked slowly from the room, followed by Levi.
An instant later the old servant turned the switch, and the room, and
with it the neglected conservatory, were plunged in darkness.
The two intruders listened. Voices sounded, and then died away. A
moment later they heard a thud, and knew that the old man had passed
beyond the white-enamelled door and had closed it behind him.
For another few minutes they remained in silence, then Max whispered:
"What shall we do?"
"We must get out of here," answered his friend promptly. "We're caught
like a rat in a trap. To open either of the doors leading into the
house is impossible. We must try and make our exit by the back," and,
groping his way, he moved to the door, which opened on to a small, paved
backyard.
But it had been secured. Levi, indeed, kept it always locked, and the
key was not there.
"To break this open will create a noise, and arouse somebody," Max
remarked.
"Well, we must get out at all hazards. We can't stay here till morning
and court discovery," Rolfe argued. "If we only had a little light we
might see what we're doing. By Jove! You've got a pocket-lamp, Max.
Where is it?"
"Is it safe yet to show a light?" Barclay asked dubiously. "It may be
seen from outside, you know!"
"It can't. There's a blank wall opposite."
"But will not the reflection be seen by Levi from below?" asked Max.
Rolfe saw that, after all, there was some danger of detection, and
admitted it.
"Then let's wait a bit," his companion whispered. "By patience we may
be able to escape without detection. Don't let us act indiscreetly."
So the pair, leaning against one of the stands of dead flowers, waited
in silence, their ears strained to catch every sound. The moments
seemed hours, until at last, all being quiet, Max, at his friend's
suggestion pressed the electric button of the little hand-lamp and
showed a light upon the door.
It was half of glass, with strong lock and double bolts. To escape
meant to break away a hole large enough for a man's body to pass. Max
suggested that they might find the key hanging somewhere upon a nail, as
conservatory keys are often kept, in that manner. But though they
searched the whole place, treading lightly as they went, they were
unable to discover it.
"Levi keeps it upon his bunch, I expect," Charlie remarked. "I've never
seen this door open in my life."
"That's why the flowers are all dead, perhaps," Max remarked grimly with
a low laugh.
"Flowers! Old Sam declared that they were no use to him, therefore he
forbade Levi to give them any water, and they all died. The old man
isn't fond of flowers. Says they're only useful at weddings and
funerals."
"There won't be many at his obsequies!" laughed Max beneath his breath,
as he made another examination of the door.
Both agreed that to open it was impossible, while to break out the glass
was far too risky a proceeding, for some of it must fall upon the paving
outside.
Rain had begun to fall, pattering heavily upon the glass roof above; and
as they were both searching about blindly for some other mode of egress
Max suddenly exclaimed:
"Why, look here!" and pointed to a portion of the glass side of the
conservatory which had opened outwardly upon a hinge, but which had been
securely screwed up.
"Excellent!" cried Charlie, realising that an exit lay there, and,
quickly drawing from his pocket a serviceable-looking screwdriver, set
to work upon the screws.
They were long, and hard to withdraw, but ten minutes later all six of
them were taken out, and, pushing back the movable frame upon its
hinges, they found themselves outside in the narrow backyard.
Once free, Max turned his face upwards to the dark windows of the first
floor of the mysterious mansion, saying: "We must get up there, Charlie,
somehow or other. I'm not going from this place until I've learnt its
secret."
"No," responded his friend. "Neither am I."