My Strangest Case - Guy Newell Boothby (romantic story to read TXT) 📗

Though I laid down on the bed I did not sleep; my thoughts would not permit of that. The face of the woman who had trusted me so profoundly was before me continually, gazing at me with sweet reproachful eyes. Oh! what a fool I had been to accept that rascal's invitation! The more I thought of it, the angrier I became with myself. Now, goodness only knew how long I should be confined in this wretched place, and what would happen during my absence from the world!

At last the dawn broke, and with it, a weird sickly light penetrated the room. I sprang from my bed and approached the window, only to find that it overlooked a small courtyard, the latter being stoneflagged and surrounded by high walls. I could see that, even if I were able to squeeze my way out between the bars, I should be powerless to scale the walls. At a rough guess these were at least twelve feet high, and without a foothold of any sort or description. This being so I was completely at the mercy of the men in the house. Indeed, a rat caught in a trap, was never more firmly laid by the heels than I. At about half-past seven o'clock a small trap-door, which I had not noticed near the ground and the main door, was opened, and a grimy hand made its way in and placed upon the floor a cup of coffee and a roll. Then it was closed once more and made secure. I drank the coffee and munched the roll, and, if the truth must be confessed, poor as they were felt the better for both.

At mid-day a bowl of miserable soup was handed in; darkness, however, had fallen some considerable time before I could detect any sound in the hall outside that might be taken to mean the coming of my evening meal. At last there was a clatter of feet, the bolts shot back, the key turned in the lock, and the door opened. A man carrying a lantern entered, followed by two others, and as the light fell upon his face, I uttered a cry of astonishment, for he was none other than my old friend Leglosse, while behind him was the infallible Lepallard.

"Well, thank goodness we have found you at last," cried Leglosse. "We have had such a hunt for you as man never dreamed of. I called at your apartments late last night, hoping to see you, on important business, but you had not returned from a dinner to which you had been invited. I called again this morning and was informed by the concierge that they had, up to that moment, seen nothing of you. When the good Lepallard informed me that you had left the restaurant in a cab with Monsieur Hayle, and that the latter had returned to his apartments this morning in a great hurry, only to leave them a short time after with his luggage, for the railway station, I began to grow uneasy. You have no idea what a day I have had looking for you, but it has been well spent, since we have the pleasure of seeing you again."

"I shall be grateful to you all my life for the service you have rendered me," I replied. "But how did you manage to gain admittance to this house?"

"It was quite easy; the birds had flown," he answered. "Has the suspicion not struck you that they were going to clear out and leave you here to starve?"

"The brutes," I answered. "But I'll be even with their leader yet. And now let us get away from here as quickly as possible. Have you any idea where our man has gone?"

"To Naples," Lepallard replied. "I disguised myself as a pompous old bourgeois, and I was behind him when he asked for his ticket and distinctly heard what he said."

"Then I shall go after him at once," I replied. "He will in all probability be off his guard. He will imagine me to be still locked up in this room, you see."

"And I shall accompany you, if you will permit me," said Leglosse.

"But why?" I asked in surprise. "What have you got to do with him? You have no case against him, and you cannot spare the time to do it simply out of kindness to me."

"It's not kindness, it's business, my friend," he replied. "You may not believe it, but I have a warrant for your man's arrest."

"On what charge?"

"On a charge of being concerned in a big embezzlement in Cochin China," he answered. "We laid the other two men by the heels at the time, but the Englishman, who was the prime mover in it, we have never been able to lay our hands upon. I felt certain that day when I met him in Amsterdam, that I had seen him somewhere before. Ever since then I have been puzzling my brains to discover where it was, and why it was so familiar to me. A photograph was eventually sent us of the Englishman by the colonial authorities, but in that photograph he, the person I suspect, wears a beard and a heavy moustache. It is the same man, however, and the description, even to the mark upon the face, exactly tallies with Hayle. Now I think I can help you to obtain a rather unique revenge upon the man, that is to say, if you want it. From what you have so far told me, I understand that you have no evidence against him strong enough to justify the issue of a warrant. Well, I have that evidence, and between us you may be sure we'll bring him back to Paris."

This was delightful hearing after all we had been through lately; at any rate I greeted the prospect of Leglosse's co-operation with acclamation. It would be hard, if between us we could not find Hayle and bring him to the justice he so richly deserved.

"Now let us get out of this," I said. "I must obtain something to eat if I perish in the attempt. I am well nigh starving. A basin of soup, a roll and a cup of coffee, are all that I have had to-day."

"You shall dine at once," he answered, "and here. There is an excellent little restaurant further down the street, and one of my men shall go there and tell them to bring you up a meal. After that you shall go home and change your costume, and then we will arrange what shall be done about the travelling."

This programme was carried out to the letter. We made a good meal, at least I know that I did, and when it was eaten, a cab was procured, and in company with Leglosse I said good-bye to the house in which I had spent so short a time, yet in which I had been so miserable.

"I shall never know how to repay you for your kindness," I said to my companion as we drove down the street. "Had it not been for you and your men I should now be starving in that wretched place. I'll certainly forgive Hayle if he is ever successful enough to take me in again by one of his rascally tricks."

"You must not let him do that," returned the Frenchman, shaking his head. "Our reputations are at stake."

When I reached my own apartments the concierge was much relieved to see me. She had been told that I was dead, perhaps murdered, and Leglosse's visit to find me had not helped to reassure her. A packet of letters and telegrams was handed to me, which I carried up to my room, to read them while I was changing my attire. Never before had I been so glad to get out of a dress-suit.

I had just finished my toilet and was in the act of commencing the packing of the bag I intended taking with me, when there was a tap at the door. I opened it, to find the concierge there.

"There is a lady in the parlor to see Monsieur," she said. "She has a maid with her."

"A lady to see me?" I asked incredulously. "Who on earth can she be?"

The concierge shook her head. In my own mind I had arrived at the conclusion that it was Mademoiselle Beaumarais, and that Hayle had sent her to discover, if possible, whether I had escaped from my confinement or not. On finding out that I had she would telegraph to him, and once more he would be placed on his guard. At first I felt almost inclined not to see her, but on second thoughts I saw the folly of this proceeding. I accordingly entered the room where the lady was awaiting me. The light was not very good, but it was sufficient for me to see two figures standing by the window.

"To what am I indebted for the honour of this visit, mademoiselles?" I began.

"Don't you know me, Mr. Fairfax?" the taller of them answered. "You forget your friends very quickly."

"Miss Kitwater?" I cried, "what does this mean?"

"It is a long story," she answered, "but I feel sure that you will have time to hear it now. I am in terrible trouble."

"I am indeed sorry to hear that," I answered, and then glanced at her maid as if to inquire whether it was safe to speak before her. She interpreted the look correctly and nodded her head.

"Yes, Mr. Fairfax," she said, "you can say what you please before Nelly."

"Then am I right in interpreting your trouble as being connected with your uncle?" I asked.

"Yes, that is it," she answered. "You have guessed correctly. Do you know that he and Mr. Codd have disappeared?"

"Disappeared?" I repeated. "Have you any idea where they have disappeared to?"

"No, but I can hazard a very shrewd guess," she replied. "I believe they have crossed to Paris in search of Mr. Hayle. Since last Sunday my uncle had been more depressed than ever, while the paroxysms of rage to which he is so subject, have been even more frequent than ever. If the truth must be told, I fear his troubles have turned his brain, for he talks to himself in such a queer way, and asks every few minutes if I have received news from you, that I cannot help thinking his mind is not what it should be. You must understand that on Saturday last, thinking it might possibly be required for the case, I drew a large sum of money from the bank; more than a hundred pounds, in fact. I securely locked it up in my writing-table, and thought no one knew anything about it. Yesterday afternoon my uncle and Mr. Codd went for a walk, and did not return, though I waited for them for several hours. While I was thus waiting I opened the drawer in the writing-table to procure something I wanted, and discovered that the money was missing. Only one construction could be placed upon it, Mr. Fairfax. They had wearied of their inactive life, and had set off in search of Hayle."

"They are aware of his address in Paris, are they not?"

"Yes, my uncle repeated it from morning until night," she answered. "In point of fact, he did little else. Oh! it terrifies me beyond measure to think what may happen should they meet."

"You need not fear that," I replied. "Hayle has tired of Paris and has bolted again. Very probably to a place where they cannot hope to find him."

I believe she said "God be thanked" under her breath, but I am not quite certain upon that point. I did not tell her of the trick Hayle had so lately played upon myself. If the telling were necessary it would be able to come later on.

"May I ask what brought you to Paris, Miss Kitwater?" I inquired, after a pause.

"My great fear," she answered. "I wired to you from Charing Cross