 CHAPTER XVII MIRROR CAME DOWN A FEW MINUTES LATER, READY FOR HER JOURNEY. Now that she had had time to think matters over, she was looking forward with some dread to her forthcoming interview with Mark Fenwick, surely something out of the common must have taken place, or he would never have sent for her at such an extraordinary time, and Vera had always one thing to contend with. She had not forgotten, in fact she could not forget, that for the last three years she had been engaged in plotting steadily against the man by whose name she was known. Moreover, she was not in the least blind to Fenwick's astuteness, and there was always the unpleasant feeling that he might be playing with her. She had always loathed and detested this man from the bottom of her soul. There were times when she doubted whether or not he was a relation of hers. As far as Vera knew, he was supposed to be her mother's half-brother. And so much as this she owed the man. He had come to her at the time when she was nearly destitute, and in no position to turn her back on his advances. That it suited Fenwick to have a well-bred and graceful girl about him, she knew perfectly well. But long before would she have left him, only she was quite certain that Fenwick was at the bottom of the dreadful business which had resulted, in best, deplorable state of mind. But as to all this Vera could say nothing at the moment. All she had to do now was to guard herself against a surprise on the part of Fenwick. She had been startled by the mere suggestion on the part of her companion that she had not been alone at the Great Empire Hotel. Much as she would have liked illumination on this point, she had the prudence to say nothing. Only she stepped into the car, a big Mercedes with great glaring eyes. Silently, too, she was born along the empty streets. It wanted yet three hours to daylight, and Vera asked how long they would be in reaching their destination. Her companion put on speed once the outskirts of town were reached. Vera could feel the cold air streaming past her face like a touch of ice. Oh, about an hour and a half, the driver said carelessly. I suppose it's about fifty-five miles. With these big lamps and these clear roads we'll just fly along. The speaker touched a lever, and the car seemed to jump over the smooth roads. The hedges and houses flew by, and the whole earth seemed to vibrate to the roar and rattle of the car. It was Vera's first experience of anything like racing, and she held her breath in terror. What would happen if a wheel gave way? she asked. She had muffled her face in her veil, so that she could breathe more freely now. Surely a pace like this is dangerous. You have to take risks, miss," the driver said coolly. We are moving at about five and forty miles an hour now. I'm very sorry if it makes you nervous, but my instructions were to get back as quickly as possible. I don't feel exactly nervous," Vera said. Oh, no, you're getting over it. Everybody does after the first few moments. When you get used to the motion you will like it. It gives you a feeling like a glass of champagne when you're tired. You'll see for yourself presently. Surely enough Vera did see for herself presently. As the feeling of timidity and unfamiliarity wore off, she began to be conscious of a glow in her blood, as if she were breathing some pure mountain air. The breeze fairly sang past her ears. The car ran more smoothly now with nothing to check its movement, and Vera could have sung aloud for the very joy of living. She began to understand the vivid pleasure of motoring. She could even make an excuse for those who travelled the high roads at top speed. Long before she had reached her destination, she had forgotten everything else beside the pure delight of that trip in the dark. Here we are, miss," the driver said at length, as he turned in through a pair of huge iron gates. It's about a mile up the avenue to the house, but you can see the lights in front of you. Have we really come all that way in this short time? Vera asked. It only seems about ten minutes since we started. The driver made no reply, and Vera had little time to look curiously about her. So far as she could judge, they were in a large park filled with magnificent oak trees. Here and there through the gloom, she seemed to see shadowy figures flitting, and these she assumed to be dear. On each side of the avenue rose a noble line of elm trees, beyond which were the gardens. Then a series of terraces, culminating in a fine house of the late Tudor period. Beyond question, it was a fine old family mansion in which Fenwick had taken up his quarters for the present. What do you call the place? Vera asked. This is Merton Grange, miss," the driver explained. It belongs to Lord somebody or another. I forget his name. Anyway, he has had to let the house for a time and go abroad. You had better get out here, and I'll take the car to the garage. I wouldn't ring the bell if I were you, miss. I just walk straight into the house. You'll find the door open, and the governor ready to receive you. He is sure to have heard the car coming up the drive. Vera descended and walked up the flight of steps which led to a noble portico. Here was a great massive oak door, which looked as if it required the strength of a strong man to open it, but it yielded to Vera's touch, and a moment later she was standing in the great hall. Tired as she was and frightened as she was feeling now, she could not but admire the beauty and symmetry of the place. Like most historic mansions of today, the place had been fitted with electric light, and a soft, illuminating flood of it filled the hall. It was a magnificent oak panel department, filled with old armor and trophies, and lined with portraits of the owner's ancestors. It seemed to Vera that anybody might be happy here. It also seemed strange to her that a man of Fenwick's type should choose a place like this for his habitation. She was destined to know later what Fenwick had in his mind when he came here. Vera's meditations were cut short by the appearance of the man himself. To her surprise, she noted that he was dressed in some blue material, just like an engineer on board ship. His hands were grimy, too, as if he had been indulging in some mechanical work. He nodded curtly to the girl. So you have come at last, he said. I dare say you wonder why I sent for you. There's a little room at the back yonder, behind the drawing room, that I have turned into a study. Go in there and wait for me, and I'll come to you as soon as I've washed my hands. I hope you have brought all you want with you, for there is precious little accommodation for your sex here at present. You can take your choice of bedrooms. There are enough of these and to spare. I have something serious to say to you." With the sinking at her heart, Vera passed into the little room that Fenwick had pointed out to her. At any other time she would have admired the old furniture and the elegant refined simplicity of it all. Now she had other things to think of. She stood warming her hands at the fire till Fenwick came in and carefully closed the door behind him. Now we can get to business, he said. I dare say you wonder why I sent for you, instead of leaving you in London for the present. Up to now I have always regarded you as perfectly safe. Indeed, I thought you were sufficiently grateful to me, for all my kindness to you. I find I am mistaken. Vera looked up with a challenge in her eyes. She knew that she had something to face now, and she meant to see it through without showing the white feather. She was braced up and ready, now that the moment for action had come. Have you ever really been kind to me? She challenged. I mean, have you really been kind to me for my own sake, and out of pure good nature? I very much doubt it. This is your gratitude, Fenwick sneered. I think we had better understand one another. I would give a great deal to understand you, the girl said boldly. But we are wasting time fencing here like this, and I am very tired. You sent for me at this extraordinary hour, and I came. I have every right to know why you asked me to come here. Sit down, Fenwick growled. I sent for you, because I did not trust you. I sent for you, because you have betrayed your promise. You are doing something that you told me, you would not do. And what is that? Vera asked. Just as if you did not know. Let us go back a bit. Back three years and a half ago. Your father was alive in those days. It was just before he met his death in Mexico. I remember perfectly well, Vera said quietly. I am not likely to forget the time. Pray continue. Have patience please. I am coming to it all in time. Your father died more or less mysteriously. But there is not the shadow of a doubt that he was murdered. Nobody knows how he was murdered. But a good many people behind the scenes can guess why. The thing was hushed up. Possibly because the tragedy took place in so remote a corner of the world. Possibly because the authorities were bribed. Tell me the name of the man. Or at least, tell me the name of the one man who was with your father at the time of his death. Vera's face paled slightly. But she kept her eyes steadily fixed on her companion's face. She began to understand where the point of the torture was coming in. I will not affect to misunderstand you, she said. The man who was with my father at that time was Mr. Charles Evors. He was a sort of pupil of my father's, and had more than once accompanied him on his excursions. You want to insinuate that my father met his death at the hands of this young man, who, overcome by certain temptation, and a desire to obtain the secret of the forefinger mine, murdered his master? I am in a position to prove it, Fenwick said sternly. I have given you practical proof of it more than once. Why should I have interfered in the way I did, unless it was that I desired to save you pain? I could have brought the whole thing into the light of day. But I refrained from doing so, because it seemed to me nothing could be gained by bringing the criminal to justice. I had another reason, too, as you know. Yes, I am aware of that, Vera said. I could never quite make it out. I could never really believe that Charles Evors was guilty of that dreadful crime. He was so frank and true, so kind to everybody. I know he was weak. I know that he had been sent away from England because he had fallen into bad company. I know, too, that he was a little fond of drink. There was only one point on which he was reticent. He never spoke much about his people. But I rather gathered that they were in a high position. They were, Fenwick Grinned. You'd be surprised if you knew how high a position. But go on. I was saying that I could not credit Charles Evors with such a crime. A man who is so fond of children, so sympathetic to things weaker than himself, could not have taken the life of a fellow creature. He was fond of my father, too. But that was not the strangest feature of the mystery. Do you suppose, for a moment, that the man who was engaged to be married to my sister would have laid violent hands on her father? But he did do it, Fenwick cried impatiently. Otherwise, why did he vanish so mysteriously? Why did he go away and leave us to infer that he had perished at sea? It was the kindest thing we could do to let your sister think that her lover was dead, though the shock seems to have deprived her of her reason. And though I acted all for the best, your brother chose to proclaim me an abandoned scoundrel, and to say that your father's death lay at my door. You know why it became necessary for you to remain with me, and treat your brother henceforth as a stranger. You volunteered to do it. You volunteered to turn your back on your family and remain with me. Why did you do so? No reply came from Vera's lips. It seemed to her that her safest course lay in silence. To her great relief, Fenwick went on without waiting for an answer. Now I am coming to my point. He said, you have broken faith with me. Three or four times since we came to England, you have seen your brother. You have seen him by stealth. You know all about that strange household in Portsmouth Square, where he chooses to hide himself under the name of Bates. I want to know why it is that you have chosen to break your word with me. I have had you watched, tonight, and I have learned all your movements by means of the telephone. You will stay down here during my pleasure. If you fail to do so, or if you try to deceive me again, as sure as I stand here at the present moment, I will betray Charles Evors into the hands of the police. Now look me in the face, and answer my question truthfully. Do you know where that young man is? It was fortunate for Vera that she could reply in the negative. A few more hours, perhaps, and she might have been able to afford the information. But luckily for her, the startling events that had recently taken place in Portsmouth Square were not known to her in their entirety. She could look Fenwick in the face. I don't, she said. I have never seen him since that fateful morning. But I don't care to go into that. I admit that I have seen my brother. I admit, too, that I have seen my sister. The temptation to find them, and to see them once more, was much too strong for me. You will not be surprised to find that I have some natural feelings left. It is not so very extraordinary. Fenwick shot a suspicious glance at Vera. But she was gazing into the fire with a thoughtful look. She was acting her part splendidly. She was deceiving this man, who, as a rule, could read the thoughts of most people. Perhaps you are right, he said doubtfully. But to make a sure and stubbly sure, you are going to help me out of a difficulty. I suppose you have not forgotten Felix Zary. No, Vera said in a curiously low voice. I have not forgotten my father's faithful companion. I should very much like to see him again, if you know where he is. Oh, I know where he is, Fenwick said with a laugh. We will have him down here as a pleasant surprise. That is all I want you to do. I want you to write a letter to Zary, telling him that you are in great trouble, and asking him to come down here and see you at once. I should like you to write that letter now. Fenwick responded, I don't mind telling you, that I am in great trouble over business matters. There is a conspiracy on foot among certain people. To get me into trouble, I may even find myself inside the walls of a prison. The man who can save me from all this is your friend, Felix Zary. Unfortunately for me, the man has had that bad taste to dislike me exceedingly. He seems to think that I was in some way responsible for your father's death. And as you know, he loved your father with a devotion that was almost dog-like. If I could get Zary down here, I should have no difficulty in convincing him that he was wrong. But he would not come near the place so long as he knew that I was present. So, therefore, I want you to write to him and conceal the fact that I am on the premises. Directly he gets your letter. He will come at once. I have not the slightest doubt of it, Vera said slowly. There is nothing that Zary would not do for one of us. If you will assure me that you mean no harm by him. Harm! Fenwick shouted, What harm could I do the man? Didn't I tell you just now that I want him to do me a service? One does not generally ill treat those who are in a position to bestow favors. Now sit down like the good girl that you are, and write that letter at once. Then you can go to bed. I will write it in the morning, Vera said. Surely there cannot be all this desperate hurry. If the letter is written before the post goes out tomorrow afternoon, it will be in good time. I am much too tired to do it now. Just for a moment Fenwick's eyes blazed angrily again. It seemed to Vera that the man was about to burst forth into a storm of passion. The hot words did not come, however, for Fenwick restrained himself. Perhaps he was afraid of going a little too far. Perhaps he was afraid of arousing Vera's suspicions, and thus defeating his own object by a refusal on her part to write the letter. He knew from past experience that she could be as firm of purpose as himself if she chose. Very well, he said, with an almost grotesque attempt at good humour. You look very tired tonight, and I daresay you have had a fatiguing journey, and after all there is no great hurry. I will show you up to the room which I have set apart for your use. Vera was only too glad to get away. Despite her strange surroundings, and despite the sense of coming danger, she threw herself on the bed and slept the sleep of utter exhaustion. It was getting towards noon before she came back to herself, invigorated and refreshed by her long rest. So far as the girl could see, there were no servants in the house at present besides an old retainer of the family and her husband. Fenwick had made some excuse about the staff of domestics who were to follow later on, but up to now, he only had about him the men whom Vera had known more or less well for the last two years. The meals appeared to be served in a remarkably irregular fashion, even the lunch was partaken of hurriedly by Fenwick, who pleaded the pressure of business. I can't stop a minute, he said. I have more to do now than I can manage. I should just like to have a look at that letter that you have written to Zary. There is no excuse for not doing it now, and I want to put it in the post-bag. Very well, Vera said serenely, if you will come with me to the library you will see exactly what I write. I know you are a suspicious man, and that you don't trust anybody. Therefore I shall be very glad for you to know that I have carried out your request to the letter. Fenwick laughed as if something had pleased him. Nevertheless, he looked over Vera's shoulder until she had penned the last word. She slowly folded up the communication and sealed it. How am I to address the envelope? she said. I have not the slightest idea where Zary is to be found. For all I know to the contrary, he may not even be in England. Oh yes he is. Fenwick chuckled. He is in London at the present moment. If you address that letter, 17 Paradise Street, Camberwell, Zary will be in receipt of it tomorrow morning. Vera wrote the address boldly and firmly, and handed the letter with more or less contempt to her companion. She wanted him to feel that she held his suspicions with scorn. She wanted him to know that so far as she was concerned, here was an end of the matter. Nevertheless she followed him carelessly from the room, and saw him place the letter together with others, on the hall table. A moment later he had vanished, and she was left alone to act promptly. She did not hesitate for a moment. She made her way back to the drawing room, and addressed a second envelope to the house in Paradise Street. Into which envelope she slipped a blank sheet of note paper. Then she stamped the envelope, and made her way back cautiously to the hall. There was a chance of being discovered, a chance that she was being watched. But she had to run the risk of that. She was crossing the hall freely and carelessly now, and so contrived as to sweep the massive letters with her sleeve to the floor, exclaiming at her own clumsiness as she did so. Like a flash, she picked out the one letter that she needed, and swiftly exchanged it for the other. A moment later she was out of doors, with the dangerous communication in her pocket. So far as she could see, she had succeeded beyond her wildest expectations. It was only a simple ruse, but like most simple things, generally successful. Vera was trembling from head to foot now, but the fresh air of the park and the broad beautiful solitude of it soothed her jarred nerves, and brought back a more contented frame of mind. Her spirits rose as she walked along. I am glad I did that, she told herself. I may be mistaken, but I firmly believe that I have saved Zary's life. Had he come down here, he would never have left the place again, and yet there is danger for him still, and I must warn him of it. I must manage to communicate in some way with Gerald. I wonder if it would be safe to send him a telegram from the village. I wonder, too, in what direction the village lies. Still, I have all the afternoon before me, and a brisk walk will do me good. With a firm elastic step, Vera walked across the grass in the direction of a wood, beyond which she could see the slope of the high road. She had hardly entered the wood before she heard a voice calling her name, and to her intense delight she turned to find herself face to face with Venor. Oh, this is glorious, she said, as she placed both her hands in his. But do you think that it is quite safe for you to come here so soon? For all I know I may be followed. I don't think so, Venor said. Now let me take you in my arms and kiss you. Let us sit down here in this snug corner, and try to imagine that we are back in the happy days when no cloud loomed between us, and we were looking forward to many joyous years together. We will talk mundane matters presently. Vera yielded to the ecstasy of the moment. Everything was so dark in melancholy that it seemed a sin to lose a gleam of sunshine like this. But the time crept on, and the November sun was sinking, and it was born in upon Vera that she must get back to the house again. Very gently she disengaged herself from Venor's embrace. We must be really practical now, she said. Tell me what has happened since I left the hotel last night. So far as I can see nothing, Venor replied. I asked for you this morning, and to my surprise I found that you had vanished in the dead of night with a mysterious surfer and a Mercedes car. By great good luck I found a policeman who had made a note of the number of the car, after which I went to the makers, or rather the agents of the makers, and it was quite easy to find out that the Mercedes in question had recently been delivered to Mr. Mark Fenwick's order at Merton Grange near Canterbury. After that you will not be surprised to find that I came down here as soon as possible, and that I have been hiding here with a pair of field glasses, trying to get a glimpse of you. That was very interesting, Vera laughed, but tell me about my sister. I am so anxious over her. No reason to be, said Venor, I have seen to that she has gone back to your brother. Oh, I am so glad. Now listen to me carefully. She went on with some detail to tell the story of her last night's experiences. She spoke of Felix Zary and the letter which she had been more or less compelled to write to him. Also she described the ruse by which the letter had been regained. Now you must go and see this Zary, she said. Tell him that you have come for me, and tell him all about the letter. Mind he must reply to my letter, just as if it had reached him in the ordinary way through the post, because as you see, I shall have to show the answer to Mr. Fenwick, and I want to lull his suspicions to rest entirely. You may find Zary a little awkward at first. I don't think I shall, Venor smiled. In fact, he and I are already acquainted, but I am not going to tell you anything about that. You prefer to keep your secrets as far as I am concerned, and I am going to guard mine for the present. I am working to put an end to all this mystery and bother, and I am going to do it in my own way. Anyway, I will see Zary for you and tell him exactly what has happened. In fact, I will go to town this evening, for the express purpose. Then I will come back in the morning and meet you here, the same time tomorrow afternoon. They parted at that, and Vera made her way back to the house. She saw that the letters were no longer on the hall table, and therefore she concluded that they had been posted. She assumed a quiet, dignified manner during the rest of the evening. She treated Fenwick more or less distantly, as if she were still offended with his suspicions. Fenwick, on the other hand, was more than usually amiable. Something had evidently pleased him, and he appeared to be doing his best to wipe out the unpleasant impression of the morning. Vera felt quite easy in her mind now. She knew that her ruse had been absolutely successful. All the same, she ignored Fenwick's request of a little music. Professing to be exceedingly tired, which, indeed, was no more than the truth. I am going to bed quite early tonight, she said. I have been sleeping very indifferently of late. It was barely ten before she was in her room, and there she lay, oblivious of all that was taking place around her, till she woke presently with an idea that she could hear the sound of hammering close by. As she sat up in bed with all her senses about her, she could hear the great stable clock strike the hour of three. Her ears had not deceived her, the sound of metal meeting metal, in a kind of musical chink came distinct and clear. Then, from somewhere near, she could hear voices. The thing was very strange, seeing that Fenwick was a businessman, pure and simple, and that he had never confessed to any knowledge of mechanics. It came back to her mind now, that directly she had entered the house, Fenwick had greeted her in a suit of blue overalls, which she understood men who followed mechanical pursuits generally wore. She recollected, too, that his hands were black and grimy. What could be going on, and why had she seen nothing of this during the daytime? She could comprehend men sitting up all night and working in a factory, but surely there could be no occasion for a thing like this in a private house, unless perhaps Fenwick and his satellites were engaged in some pursuit that needed careful concealment from the eyes of the law. It would be well perhaps, Vera thought, if she could find out what was going on. The discovery might be the means of putting another weapon into her hands. She rose from her bed and partially dressed herself. Then, with a pair of slippers on her feet and a dark wrap around her shoulders, she stole into the corridor. A dim light was burning there, so that she had no fear of being discovered, especially as the walls were draped with tapestry, and here and there armored figures stood, which afforded a capital means of concealment. As Vera sidled along, she noticed that at the end of the corridor was a small room, down a flight of steps. From where she stood she could see into the room, the door of which was open. Fenwick stood there, apparently engaged in superintending the melting of metal in a crucible over a fire, which was driven to white heat by a pair of bellows. The rest of his gang seemed to be doing something on an iron table, with molds and discs. Vera could see the gleam of yellow metal. Then somebody closed the door of the room, and she could learn no more. It was all very strange and mysterious, and there was a fruit of air about it which did not suggest honesty of purpose. There was nothing more for it now except for Vera to return to her room, with a determination to see the inside of that little apartment the first time that the coast was clear. She hurried along back to her own room, and had almost succeeded in reaching it, when she came face to face with a man who had stepped out of a doorway so suddenly, that the two figures came almost in contact. A fraction of a second later a hand was laid over Vera's mouth, while another grasped her wrist. Then she saw that the intruder had been joined by a companion. Please don't say a word, miss, and whatever you do, don't call out. One of the men whispered, We know all about you and who you are. Believe me, we are here to do you the greatest service in our power. My colleague will tell you the same. But who are you? Vera asked, as the man removed his hand from her mouth. Her courage had come back to her now. Why do you come in this fashion? My name is Egan, the stranger said, and this is my companion, Grady. We are New York detectives, over here on important business. The man we are after is Mark Fenwick. End of Chapter 18 Vera had entirely recovered her self-possession by this time. She was able to regard the men coolly and critically. There was nothing about them that suggested anything wrong or underhand. On the contrary, the girl rather liked their appearance. All the same it was a strange and unique experience, and though Vera had been through a series of trials and tribulations, she thrilled now as she recognized how near she had been to the man who was thus running himself into the hands of justice. But how can you know anything about me? She said. You surely do not mean to say that you suspect. Not at all, miss, Egan said civilly. Only, you see, it is always our business to know a great deal more than people imagine. I hope you won't suppose that we are going to take any advantage of our position here, or that we want you to betray Mr. Fenwick into our hands. But since we have been unfortunate enough to be discovered by you, we will ask you to go so far as to say nothing to Mr. Fenwick. If you tell him, you will be doing considerable harm to a great many deserving people who have suffered terribly at that man's hands. I think you understand. Vera understood only too well, and yet her delicate sense of honor was slightly disturbed at the idea of continuing there without warning Fenwick of the danger that overshadowed him. Personally she would have liked to have told him exactly how he stood, and given him the opportunity to get away. Perhaps Egan saw something of this in Vera's face, for he went on to speak again. I know it isn't very nice for you, miss, he said, and I am not surprised to see you hesitate. But seeing Mr. Fenwick has done you as much harm as anybody else. How can you know that? Vera exclaimed. Well, you see, it is our business to know everything. I feel quite certain that on reflection you will do nothing to defeat the ends of justice. No, Vera said thoughtfully, in any case it cannot much matter. You are here to arrest Mr. Fenwick, and you probably know where he is to be found at the present moment. There you are wrong, miss. Grady said, we are not in a position at present to lay hands on our men. We came here prepared to take a few risks, but I don't suppose you would care to hear anything about our methods. It will be a great favor to us, if you will retire to your room and stay there till morning. Vera went off without further ado, feeling once more that the current of events had come between her and the sleep that she so sorely needed. But in spite of everything she had youth and health on her side, and within a few minutes she was fast asleep. It was fairly late when she came down the next morning, and she was rather surprised to find that Fenwick had not finished his breakfast. He sat there sullen and heavy-eyed, and had no more than a grunt for Vera in response to her morning greeting. He turned over his food with savage disapproval. Evidently from the look of him he had not only been up late overnight. He had also had more wine than was good for him. Who can eat rubbish like this? He growled. The stuff isn't fit to feed a dog with. Look at this bacon. You can expect nothing else, Vera said coldly. If you choose to try and run a large house like this, with practically no servants beyond a caretaker and his wife, you must put up with the consequences. You are an exceedingly clever man, but you seem to have overlooked one fact, and that is the amount of gossip you are providing for the neighbours. It isn't as if we were still in town, where the man next door knows nothing of you and cares less. Here people are interested in their neighbours. It will cause quite a scandal when it comes known that you are occupying Lord Merton's house with nothing more than a number of questionable men, as far as I can see you are far worse off here than if you had stayed in London. I may be wrong, of course. I begin to think you are quite right, Fenwick grunted. I must see to this. It will never do for all these chattering magpies to pry into my business. You had better go into Canterbury this morning and see if you can't arrange for a proper staff of servants to come. Well, what's the matter now? One of the men had come into the room with a telegram in his hand. He pitched it in a contemptuous way upon the table and withdrew, whistling unconcernedly. The man's manner was so flippant and familiar that Vera flushed with annoyance. I wish you would keep your subordinates a little more under your control, she said. One hardly expects a man of your wealth to be treated in this way by his clerks. But Fenwick was not listening. His brows were knotted in the sullen frown over the telegram that he held in his hand. He clutched the flimsy paper and threw it with a passionate gesture into the fire. Vera could see that his yellow face had grown strangely white and that his coarse lips were trembling. He rose from the table, pushing his plate away from him. I've got to go to town at once, he said. How strange it is that everything seems to have gone wrong of late. I shall be back again in time for dinner, and I shall be glad if you are good enough to see that I have something fit to eat. Perhaps you had better telephone to town for some servants. It doesn't much matter what you pay them, as long as they are good. Fenwick walked rapidly from the room, and a few moments later Vera could see his car moving swiftly down the drive. On the whole she was not sorry to have Fenwick out of the house. She was pleased also to know that he had made up his mind over the servant question. Already the house was beginning to look shabby and neglected. In the strong morning sunshine Vera could see the dust lying everywhere. Her womanly instincts rebelled against this condition of things. She was not satisfied until she had set the telephone in motion and settled the matter as far as the domestic staff was concerned. Then a sudden thought flashed into her mind. Here was the opportunity for examining the little room where Fenwick and his satellites had been busy the previous evening. Vera had not failed to notice the fact that three of the men had gone off with Fenwick in his car, so that in all probability they meant to accompany him to town. If this turned out to be correct, then there was only one man to be accounted for. Possibly with the assistance of Gerald the fourth man might be got out of the way. It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon before Vera managed to see her husband. Eagerly and rapidly she told him all that had taken place the previous evening, though she was rather surprised to find him manifesting less astonishment than she had expected. Venor smiled when Vera mentioned this. Oh, it is no new thing to me, he said. I saw all that going on in your suite of rooms at the Great Empire Hotel, though I haven't the least notion what it all means. I should have thought that your interesting guardian was manufacturing counterfeit coins, but we managed to get hold of one of them and a jeweler pronounced at once that it was a genuine sovereign. Still, there is no question of the fact that some underhand business is going on, and I am quite ready to assist you in finding out what it is. The point is, whether the coast is clear or not. There is only one man left behind, Vera explained. All the rest have gone to London with Mr. Fenwick, who received a most disturbing telegram at breakfast this morning. Of course the old caretaker and his wife count for nothing. They are quite innocent parties, and merely regard their stay here as temporary, pending the arrival of our staff of servants. In that case I don't see why it shouldn't be managed, Venor said. You had better go back to the house, and I will call and see you. There is not the slightest reason why I shouldn't give my own name, nor is there the slightest reason why you should not show me over the house when I come. I dare say all this sounds a bit cheap, but one cannot be too careful in dealing with these people. It was all arranged exactly as Venor had suggested, and a little later Vera was shaking hands with her own husband, as if he were a perfect stranger. They proceeded presently to walk up the grand staircase and along the corridor, Vera doing the honors of the place, and speaking in a manner calculated to deceive anybody who was listening. She stopped presently and clutched Venor's arm excitedly. She pointed to a doorway leading to a little room down the steps at the end of the corridor. There, she whispered, that is the room, and as far as I can see it is absolutely empty. What do you say to going in there now? The coast seems to be quite clear. Venor hesitated for a moment. It would be just as well, he thought, to err on the side of caution. A casual glance from the corridor disclosed nothing, except that on the table there stood a bottle apparently containing wine, for a glass of some dark ruby liquid stood beside it. Very rapidly, Venor ran down the flight of stairs and looked into the room. There is nobody there for the moment, he said, but that bulldog of Fenwick's can't be far off, for there's a half-smoked cigarette on the end of the table which has not yet gone out. I think I can see my way now to working this thing, without any trouble or danger. Do you happen to know of that rheumatic old caretaker who uses snuff? Really, I don't, Vera said with a smile, but what possible connection is there between the caretaker and his snuff? Never mind about that at present. Go down and ask the old man for his snuff-box. By the look of him I am quite sure he indulges in the habit. Tell him you want to kill some insects in the conservatory. Tell him anything, so long as you get possession of the box for a few minutes. Vera flew off on her errand. She was some moments before she could make the old man understand what she needed, then with the air of one who parts with some treasure he handed over to her a little tortoise shell box remarking at the same time that he had had it for the last sixty years and would not part with it for anything. A moment later Vera was back again at the end of the corridor. Venor had not moved, a sure sign that no one had approached in the meantime. Taking the box from Vera's hand and leaving her to guard the corridor he stepped into the little room where he proceeded to stir a little pellet of snuff into the glass of wine. This done he immediately hurried Vera away to the other end of the corridor. I think that will be all right now, he said. We have only got to wait till our man comes back and give him a quarter of an hour. Snuff is a very strong drug and within a few minutes of his finishing his wine he will be sound asleep on the floor. It all fell out exactly as Venor had prophesied. The man came back presently, passing Vera and her companion without the slightest suspicion of anything being wrong. Then he turned into the little room and closed the door behind him. Half an hour passed before Vera knocked at the door on some frivolous pretext, but no answer came from the other side. She knocked again and again, after which she ventured to open the door. The wine glass was empty, a half-finished cigarette smoldered on the floor, and by the side of it lay the man in a deep and comatose sleep. Venor fairly turned him over with his foot, but the slumbering form gave no sign. The thing was safe now. We needn't worry ourselves for an hour or so, Venor said, and now we have to see if we can discover the secrets of the prison-house. Evidently nothing is going on at present. I should like to know what the table is for. It is not unlike a modern gas stove. I mean a gas stove used for cooking purposes, and here is a parcel on the table, just the same sort of parcel that the mysterious new sovereigns were wrapped up in. Oh, let me see, Vera said eagerly as she pulled the lid off the box. See this stuff inside is just like asbestos, and sure enough here is a layer of sovereigns on the top, how bright and new they look. I have never seen gold so attractive before. I—Vera suddenly ceased to speak, and a sharp cry of pain escaped her as she dropped to the floor one of the coins which she had taken in her hand. She was regarding her thumb and forefinger now with some dismay, for they were scorched and swollen. Those coins are red hot, she said. You try, but look out, you don't get burned. Surely enough the coins were almost at white heat, so much so that a wax match placed on the edge of one flared instantly. Venor looked puzzled. He could not make it out. There was no fire in the room, and apparently no furnace or oven in which the metal could have been heated. Then he suddenly recollected that Vera must be in pain. My poor child, he said, I am so sorry, you must go down to the old housekeeper at once, and get her to put something on your hand. Meanwhile, I will stay here and investigate, though I don't expect for a moment that I shall make any further discoveries. Vera's hand was dressed at length, and the pain of the burn had somewhat abated. When Venor came down the stairs again, he shook his head in response to the questioning glance in Vera's eyes. Absolutely nothing, he said. I found a safe there led into the wall, but then you see, the safe has been built for years, and no doubt has been used by Lord Merton to store his plate and other valuables of that kind. It is just possible, of course, that Fenwick has the key of it, and that the safe has been cleared out for his use. I am afraid we shall never solve this little puzzle until Fenwick is in the hands of those detectives who gave you such a fright last night. But there must have been some means of heating those coins, Vera protested. They must have come straight from a furnace. Of course, Venor said, the trouble is where to find the furnace. I am perfectly sure, too, that the sovereigns were genuine. Now what on earth can a man gain by taking current coins of the realm and making them red-hot? The only chance of a solution is for me to find Egan and Grady and tell them of my discovery. I shall be at the same spot tomorrow afternoon at the same time, and if I find anything out I will let you know. There was nothing more for it than this, whereupon Venor went away, and Vera returned thoughtfully to the dining-room. She was just a little bit in doubt as to whether the man upstairs would guess the trick played upon him. But that she had to risk. Even in the matter of furnishing a large house with competent servants, and by six o'clock Vera had contrived for the domestic machine to run a little more smoothly. At any rate, she was in a position now to provide Fenwick with something in the shape of a respectable dinner on his return from town. It was about a quarter to eight when he put in an appearance, and for the first time for some days he changed into evening dress for the chief meal of the day. He appeared to be as morose and savage as he had been in the morning, in fact even more so if that were possible. He answered Vera's questions curtly, so that she fell back upon herself and ate her soup in silence. And yet, though Fenwick was so quiet, it seemed to Vera that he was regarding her with a deep distrust, so that she found herself flushing under his gaze. He put his spoon down presently, and pointed with his hand to Vera's swollen fingers. What have you got there? He demanded. How did you do that? I burnt it, Vera stammered. It was an accident. Well, I don't suppose you burnt it on purpose? Fenwick growled. I don't suppose you put your hand into the fire to see if it was hot. What I asked you was how you did it. Please answer my question. I repeat, it was an accident, Vera said coldly. I burnt my fingers in such a way. Yes, and you are not the first woman who has burnt her fingers interfering with things that don't concern her. I insist upon knowing exactly how that accident happened. Vera turned a cold, contemptuous face to her companion. She began to understand now that his suspicions were aroused. It came back to her vividly enough that she had dropped the hot sovereign on the floor, and that, owing to the shock and sudden surprise, she had not replaced it. It was just possible that Fenwick had gone into the little room and had missed the sovereign from the neat layer of coins on the top of the box. And then another dreadful thought came to Vera, supposing that the drugged man had not recovered from the effects of his dose by the time Fenwick had returned. It was a point which both she and Venor had overlooked. There was nothing for it but to take refuge behind an assumed indignation and decline to answer offensive questions put in that tone of voice. Vera was still debating as to the most contemptuous reply when the dining-room door opened and one of the newly arrived servants announced Mr. Blosset. Fenwick rose to his feet, and an unmistakable oath escaped his lips. All the same he forced a kind of sickly smile to his face, as a big man with an exceedingly red face and an exceedingly offensive, swaggering manner came into the dining-room. The stranger was quite well dressed, nothing about his garments offended the eye or outraged good taste, yet all the same the man had bounder written all over him in large letters, his impudent red face, his aggressively waxed moustache, and the easy familiarity of his manner caused Vera to shrink within herself, though she could have been grateful to the fellow for the diversion which his appearance had created. Well, Fenwick might buck, he cried. He didn't expect that I should accept your imitation quite so promptly, but I happened to be knocking around here and I thought I'd drop in and join you in your chop. This is your daughter, I suppose, glad to make your acquaintance miss. I was told there were many beauties at Merton Grange, but I find that there is one more than I expected. Vera merely bowed in reply. The man was so, frankly, hopelessly, utterly vulgar, that her uppermost feeling was one of amusement. She could see that Fenwick was terribly annoyed, though for some reason he had to keep himself in hand and be agreeable to blossom it. Sit down, he said. Ring the bell, and we will get another cover laid. I don't suppose you mind missing the soup. I have been in the soup too often to care about it. Blosset laughed. To tell the truth, we had such a warm time last night that solid food and myself are not on speaking terms just now. Here, waiter, fill me a tumbler of champagne. I daresay, when I have got that down my neck, I shall be able to pay my proper attention to this young lady. Fenwick made no reply. He cut savagely at his fish as if he were passing the knife over the throat of the intruder. Meanwhile the stranger rattled on, doubtless under the impression that he was making himself exceedingly agreeable. Vera sat there watching the scene with a certain sense of amusement. She was still a little pale and unsteady, still doubtful as to the amount of information that Fenwick had gleaned as to her movements that afternoon. She would be glad to get away presently and try to ascertain for herself whether the drug man had recovered or not. Meanwhile there was no occasion for her to talk, as the intruder was quite able to carry on all the necessary conversation. This is a mighty fine tiple, he said. Waiter! Get me another tumbler of champagne. In my checkered career I don't often run up against this class of lotion, though worst of it is, it makes one talk too fast, and seeing that I have got to run the gauntlet with the next little parcel of sparklers. Fall! Fenwick burst out. His face was livid with rage. His eyes were shot with passionate anger. Fall! Can't you be silent? Don't you see that there is one here who is outside? Big pardon! Blosset said unsteadily. I thought the young woman knew all about it. Lord, with her dainty face and her aristocratic air, what a bonnet she'd make. Wouldn't she look nice passing off as the daughter of the old military swell, with the fondness for little game of cards? You know what I mean. The same game that old Jim and his wife used to play. Be silent! Fenwick thundered, in a tone that at last seemed to penetrate the thick skull of his companion. My—my daughter knows nothing of these things. Blosset stammered something incoherent. His manner became more sullen, and long before dinner was completed, it was evident that he had had far more wine than was good for him. If you will excuse me, I will leave you, Vera said coldly. I do not care for any dessert or coffee tonight. Perhaps you had better go, Fenwick said with an air of relief. I will take care that this thing does not happen again. But Vera had already left the room. She was still consumed with anxiety, and desire to know more of what had happened to the man whom Venor had drugged. She did not dare venture as far as the little room, for fear that suspicious eyes should be watching her. It was just possible that Fenwick had given his satellites a hint to note her movements. Therefore all she could do was to sit in the drawing-room with the door open. Some of the men began to pass presently, and after a little time, with a sigh of relief, Vera caught sight of the one upon whom the trick of the snuff was played. He seemed all right, as far as she could judge, and the girl began to breathe a little more freely. As she sat there in the silence watching and waiting, she saw Fenwick and his companion emerge from the dining-room and cross the hall in the direction of the billiard-room. Blosset was still talking lightly and incoherently. He lent on the arm of his host, and obviously the support was necessary. Vera had never before seen a drunken man under the same roof as herself, and her soul revolted at the sight. How much longer was this going on, she wondered? How much more could she be called upon to endure? For the present she had only to possess herself in patience and hope for the best. She was longing now for something like action. The silence and stillness of the house oppressed her. She would have liked to be up and doing something—anything better than sitting there. The silence was broken presently by the sound of angry voices proceeding from the billiard-room. Half a dozen men seemed to be talking at the same time, words floated to Vera's ears, then suddenly the noise ceased, as if somebody had clapped down a lid upon the meeting. Vera guessed exactly what had happened. The billiard-room door had been closed for fear of the servants hearing what was going on. It was just possible that behind those closed doors the mystery that had so puzzled Vera was being unfolded. She recollected now that between the dining-room and the billiard-room was a fairly large conservatory opening on either side into the apartments in question. It was just possible that Fenwick and his companions might have overlooked the conservatory. At any rate Vera determined to take advantage of the chance. The conservatory was full of palms and plants and flowers, behind which it was possible for the girl to hide and listen to all that was going on. Vera fully understood the danger she was running. She quite appreciated the fact that the discovery might be visited with unpleasant consequences. But this did not deter her for a moment. She was in the conservatory a little later and was not displeased to find that the door leading to the billiard-room was open. Behind a thick mask of ferns she took her stand. Between the feathery fronds she could see into the billiard-room without being seen. Fenwick was standing by the side of the table laying down the law about something while the rest of his men were scattered about the room. Why should I do it? Fenwick was saying. Why should I trust a man like you? You'll come down tonight on the most important errand. Well knowing the risks you are running and you start by getting drunk at the dinner table. I wasn't drunk. Blosset said suddenly, As to the girl, why, I naturally expected. Who gave you the right to expect? Fenwick demanded. Couldn't you see at a glance that she knew nothing about it? Another word and you would have betrayed the whole thing. You can stay here all night and talk if you like, but you are not going to have that parcel to take away to London with you. In your present condition, you would be in the hands of the police before morning. But I haven't got a cent, Blosset said. I hadn't enough money in my pocket to pay my cab fare from Canterbury. And don't you try on any of your games with me because I am not the sort of man to stand them. You are a fine lot of workman, I know, but there isn't one of you who has the pluck and ability to take two thousand pounds worth of that stuff and turn it into cash in a week. Now look at the last parcel I had. I got rid of it in such a manner that no one could possibly discover that I ever handled the metal at all. Who among you could say the same thing? Oh, you are right enough, as long as you are sober, Fenwick said. But all the same. I shall not trust you with the parcel that is waiting upstairs. Vera listened, comprehending but little of what was going on. After all, she seemed to be having only her trouble for her pains. Beyond doubt, these men were doing something illicit with the coinage of the country, though Vera could not bring herself to believe that they were passing off counterfeit money, seeing that the sovereigns were absolutely genuine. Well, something has to be done. Another of the gang remarked, We are bound to have a few thousand during the next few days. And as Blosset says, there is nobody that can work to Oracle as well as he can. The best thing I can do is to go to town with him and keep a close eye on him till he has pulled round once more. He can keep sober enough on occasions, if he likes, and once the drink and fit has passed, he may be right for weeks. I am going to have no one with me, Blosset roared. Do you think I am going to be treated like a blooming kid? I tell you, I am the best man of the lot of you. There isn't one of you who can hold a candle to me. Fenwick, with all his cunning, is a child compared with Ned Blosset. Ask any of the old gang in New York. Ask the blister in police, if you like, and ask the rest of you, who are you? A set of white-faced mechanics, without pluck enough to rob a henrush. Take that, you cur! The speaker rose suddenly to his feet and lurched across the room in Fenwick's direction. He aimed an unexpected blow at the ladder, which sent him headlong to the floor, and immediately the whole room was a scene of angry violence. Vera shrank back in her shelter, hardly knowing what to do next. She saw that Blosset had disentangled himself from the mob about him, and was making his way headlong into the conservatory. There was nothing for it but instant retreat. On the opposite side was a doorway leading to the garden, and through this Vera hastily slipped, and darted across the grass, conscious of the noise and struggle going on behind. She paused with a little cry of vexation, as she came close to a man who was standing on the edge of the lawn, looking at the house. It was only for a moment that she stood there in doubt. Then a glad little cry broke from her lips. Charles, she said, Mr. Evors, what are you doing here? We will come to that presently, Evors replied. Meanwhile, you can be observed from where you are, and those rioters yonder may make it awkward for you. When they have patched up their quarrel, I will return to the house with you and explain. We can get in by the little green door behind the gun room. Vera suffered herself to be led away, feeling now utterly unable to be astonished at anything. They came at length to the secluded side of the house, where the girl paused and looked at her companion for an explanation. You seem to be strangely familiar with this place, she said. You walk around here in the dark as if you had known this house all your lifetime. Have you been here before? Many a time, Evors replied sadly. Up to the time I was twenty, my happiest years were spent here, but I see you are still in the dark. Can you not guess who I really am, Vera? No? Then I will enlighten you. My name is Charles Evors, and I am the only son of Lord Merton. I was born here, and if the fates are good to me, someday I hope to die here. End of Chapter 20 Chapter 21 of The Mystery of the Four Fingers This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Mystery of the Four Fingers by Fred M. White Chapter 21 The Third Finger Vera ought to have experienced a feeling of deepest surprise, but she was long past any emotion of that kind. On the contrary, it seemed quite natural that Evors should be there telling her this extraordinary thing. The sounds of strife and tumult in the house had now died away. Apparently the men in the billiard room had patched up their quarrel, for nothing more could be heard save a sudden pop, which sounded like the withdrawal of a quirk. With a gesture of contempt Evors pointed to the billiard room window. I don't think you need to worry about them, he said. As far as I can judge they were bound to come to some truce. But do you know what they were doing? Vera asked. I haven't the remotest idea, Evors replied. Some rascality beyond question. There always is rascality where Fenwick is concerned. Is it not a strange thing that I should come down here and find that fellow settled in the home of my ancestors? Then you did not come down on purpose to see him? No, I came here entirely on my own responsibility. If you have half an hour to spare, and you think it quite safe, I will tell you everything. But there is one thing first. One assurance you must give me. Or I am bound to remain silent. The death of your poor father in that mysterious fashion. Stop, Vera said gently. I know exactly what you are going to say. You want me to believe that you had no hand whatever in my father's murder. My dear Charles, I know it perfectly well. The only thing that puzzles me is why you acted in that strange, weak fashion after the discovery of the crime. That is exactly what I am going to tell you, Evors went on. It is a strange story, and one which, if you read it in the pages of a book, you would be inclined to discredit entirely. And yet stranger and more remarkable things happen every day. Evors led the way to a secluded path beside the terrace. You need not worry about getting to the house. He said, I can show you how to manage that at any time of the day or night without disturbing anybody. I am afraid that on many occasions I put my intimate knowledge of the premises to an improper use, and that was the beginning of my downfall. What will you say to me when I confess to you that when I came out to Mexico I was driven out of the old country more or less, like a criminal? I understood you to be a little wild, Vera said. A little wild? Evors echoed bitterly. I behaved in a perfectly disgraceful fashion. I degraded the old name. I made it a byword in the district. As sure as I am standing here at the present moment, I am more or less answerable for my mother's death. It is a strange thing with us, Evors, that all the men begin in this way. I suppose it is some taint in our blood. Up to the age of five and twenty, we have always been more like devils than men. And then, for the most part, we have settled down to wipe out the past and become respectable members of society. I think my father recognized that, though he was exceedingly hard and stern with me. Finally, after one more unusually disgraceful episode, he turned me out of the house and said he hoped never to look upon my face again. I was deeply in debt. I had not a penny that I could call my own, and finally I drifted out to Mexico with the assistance of a boon companion. On the way out I took a solemn oath that I would do my best to redeem the past. I felt heartily ashamed of my evil ways, and for six months no one could possibly have led a purer and better life than myself. It was about this time that I became acquainted with your father and your sister Beth. Evors paused a moment and paced up and down the avenue with Vera by his side. She saw that he was disturbed about something, so that she deemed it best not to interrupt him. It was like getting back to a better world again. Evors went on. I believed that I had conquered myself. I felt pretty sure of it, or I would never have encouraged the friendship with your sister, which she offered me from the first. I don't know how it was or why it was that I did not see much of you about that time, but you were not in the mountains with the others. I was down in the city, Vera explained. There was a friend of mine who had a long, serious illness, and I was engaged in nursing her. That is the reason. But it doesn't much matter, Evors went on. You were not there to watch my friendship for Beth ripening into a warmer and deeper feeling. Mind you, she had not the remotest idea who I really was, nor had your father. They were quite content to take me on trust. They had no vulgar curiosity as to my past. And then the time came when Beth discovered what my feelings were, and I knew that she had given her heart to me. I had not intended to speak. I had sternly schooled myself to hold my tongue until I had completed my probation. But one never knows how these things come about. It was also spontaneous, so unexpected, and before I knew what had really happened, we were engaged. It was the happiest time of my life. I had rid myself of all my bad habits. I was in the full flush and vigor of my manhood. I did not say anything to Beth about the past, because I felt that she would not understand. But I told your father pretty nearly everything, except who I really was, for I had made up my mind not to take the old name again, until I had really earned the right to do so. Of course the name of Evors conveyed no impression to anybody. It did not imply that I was heir to Lord Merton. Your father was intensely friendly and sympathetic. He seemed to understand exactly. We became more than friends, and this is how it came about that I accompanied him finally on one of his secret visits to the Four Finger Mine. Your father's regular journeys to the mine had resulted in his becoming a rich man, and, as you know, he always kept the secret to himself, taking nobody with him as a rule, with the exception of Felix Zari. I will speak of Zari again presently. You know how faithful he was to your father, and how he would have laid down his life for him. Zari was an incomprehensible character, Vera said. He was one of the surviving, or rather, the only surviving member of the tribe who placed the Four Finger Mine in my father's hands. That was done solely out of gratitude, and Zari steadfastly declined to benefit one penny from the gold of the mine. He had a curious contempt for money, and he always said that the gold from the Four Finger Mine had brought a curse on his tribe. I really never got to the bottom of it, and I don't suppose I ever shall. But I am interrupting you, Charles. Will you please go on with your story? Where was I, Evora said? Oh yes, I was just leading up to the time when I accompanied your father on his last fatal journey to the mine. At one time I understand it was his intention to take with him the Dutchman, Van Fort, or your mother's brother, Mark Fenwick. However, your father decided against this plan, and I went with him instead. To a great extent it was my doing so that kept Van Fort and Fenwick out of it, for I distrusted both those men, and I believed that they would have been guilty of any crime to learn the secret of the mine. Your father, always trustful and confiding, laughed at my fears, and we started on that fateful journey. I don't want to harrow your feelings unnecessarily, or describe in detail how your father died, but he was fowlly murdered. And as sure as I am in the presence of my maker, the murder was accomplished either by the Dutchman or Fenwick, or between the two of them. Zari mysteriously vanished about the same time, and there was no one to back me up in my story. You may judge of my horror and surprise a little later, when Van Fort and Fenwick entered into a deliberate conspiracy, to prove that I was responsible for your father's death. They laid their plans with such a diabolical ingenuity that, had I been placed upon my trial at that time, I should have been hanged to a certainty. They even went so far as to tell Beth what had happened, with what result upon her mind, you know. At this time Van Fort disappeared, and was never heard of again, of the strange weird vengeance which followed him, I will talk another time. I suppose I lost my nerve utterly, for I became as clay in the hands of Mark Fenwick. Badly as he was treating me, he professed to be my friend, and assured me he had found a way by which I could escape from the death which threatened me. Goodness only knows what he had in his mind. Perhaps he wanted to part Beth and myself, and get all your father's money into his hands. I suppose he reckoned without your brother, though the latter did not count for much just then, seeing that he was in the hospital at Vera Kranz, hovering between life and death, as the result of his accident. For my own part, I never believed it was an accident at all. I believed that Fenwick engineered the whole business. But that is all by the way. Like the weakful that I was, I fell in with Fenwick's suggestion, and allowed myself to become a veritable tool in his hands. But I did not go till I heard that you had come back to look after Beth. Vera recollected the time perfectly well. She was following Evor's narrative with breathless interest. How well she recollected the day of her own marriage, and the receipt of that dreadful letter, which parted Gerald and herself on the very steps of the altar, and transformed her life from one of happiness into one of absolute self-sacrifice. She was beginning to see daylight now. She was beginning to discern a way at length. Whereby she would be able to defy Fenwick, and part with him for all time. It is getting quite plain now, she said. But please, go on. You cannot think how deeply interested I am in all you are saying. Presently I will tell you my side of the story, how I came to part with Beth, how I placed her in my brother's hands, how I elected to remain with Mark Fenwick, and my reasons for so doing. I may say that one of my principal reasons for staying with my uncle was to discover the real cause of my father's death. That you had anything to do with it, I never really believed, though appearances were terribly against you, and you deliberately elected to make them look worse. But we need not go into that now. What happened to you after you fled from Mexico? I am very much afraid that I dropped back into the old habits, Evors said contritely. I was reckless and desperate, and cared nothing for anybody. I had honestly done my best to atone for the past, and it seemed to me that fate was dealing with me, with a cruelty which I did not deserve. One or two of Fenwick's parasites accompanied me everywhere. There seemed to be no lack of money, and I had pretty well all I wanted. There were times, of course, when I tried to break the spell, but they used to drug me then, until my mind began to give way under the strain. Sometimes we were in Paris, sometimes we were in London, but I have not the slightest recollection of how I got from one place to another. I was like a man who is constantly on the verge of delirium. How long this had been going on, I can't tell you, but finally I came to my senses in the house in London, and there for two days I was practically all right. All through this time I had the deepest horror of the drink with which they plied me, and on this occasion the horror had grown no less. For some reason or another, no doubt it was an oversight, they neglected me for two days, and I began to get rapidly better. Then, by the purest chance in the world, I discovered that I was actually under the same roof as Beth and your brother, and the knowledge was like medicine to me. I refused everything those men offered me. I demanded to be allowed to go out on business. They refused, and a strange new strength filled my veins. I contrived to get the better of the two men, and half an hour afterward I left the house in company with your brother. All this was news indeed to Vera, but she asked no questions. She was quite content to stand there and listen to all that Evors had to say. I would not stay with your brother, he went on. I went off immediately to an old friend of mine, to whom I told a portion of my story. He supplied me with money and clothing, and advised me that the best thing I could do was to go quietly away into the country and give myself an entire rest. I followed his advice, and I drifted down here, I suppose, in the same way that an animal finds his way home. I did not know my father was away, and you can imagine my surprise when I discovered to whom he had left the house. I feel pretty much myself now. There is no danger of my showing the white feather again. If you are in any trouble or distress, a line to the address on this card will bring me to you at any time. In this house there are certain hiding places where I could secrete myself without anybody being the wiser, but we need not go into that. Now perhaps you had better return to the house, or you may be missed. Good night, Vera. You cannot tell how wonderfully helpful your sympathy has been to me. He was gone a moment later, and Vera returned slowly and thoughtfully to the house. The place was perfectly quiet now, the billiard-room door was open, and Vera could see that the apartment was deserted. Apparently the household had retired to rest, though it seemed to be nobody's business to fasten up the doors. Most of the lights were out, for it was getting very late now, so that there was nothing for it, but for Vera to go up the stairs to her own room. She had hardly reached the landing when a door halfway down burst open, and Fenwick stood there shouting at the top of his voice, for such of his men as he mentioned by name. He seemed to be almost beside himself with passion, though at the same time his face was pallid with a terrible fear. He held a small object in his hand, which he appeared to regard with disgust and loathing. Why don't some of you come out? He yelled. You drunken dogs, where have you all gone to? Let the man come out who has played this trick on me, and I'll break every bone in his body. One or two heads emerged, and presently a little group stood around the enrage and her frighted Fenwick. Standing in a doorway Vera could hear every word that passed. I locked my door after dinner, Fenwick said. It is a patent lock. No key but mine will fit it. When I go to bed I find this thing lying on the dressing table. Another are the fingers. A voice cried. The third finger. Are you quite sure that you locked your door? I'll swear it. Fenwick yelled. And if one of you. But of course it can't be one of you. There is no getting rid of this accursed thing. And when the last one comes Fenwick stopped, as if something choked him. End of Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Of the Mystery of the Four Fingers This Libervox recording is in the public domain. The Mystery of the Four Fingers by Fred M. White Chapter 22 The Time Will Come The startled group on the stairs stood gazing at Fenwick as if they were stricken dumb. There was not one of them who had the slightest advice to offer, not one of them but felt that Fenwick's time was close at hand. Every man there knew by heart the strange story of the Four Finger Mine and of the vengeance which had overtaken the Dutchman. The same unseen vengeance was very near Fenwick now. He had had his three warnings, and there was but one more to come before the final note of tragedy was struck. Most of them looked with day's fascination at the mutilated left hand of their chief. How did you lose yours? Somebody whispered. Don't ask me, Fenwick said hoarsely. I break into a cold sweat whenever I think of it. But why don't you do what I tell you? Why don't you find me Zary? Find him out and bring him down here. And then I can laugh at the vengeance of the Four Fingers. But I have my plans laid and I shall know how to act when the time comes. Now you all get off to bed again and forget all my foolishness. I suppose I was startled by seeing that a cursed thing laying on my table and lost my nerve. The little group melted away, and once more the house became silent. When morning came, there was no sign or suggestion of the events of the night before. For the first time for many months Vera felt comparatively happy. She felt, too, that at last she was reaping the reward of all her self-sacrifice, and was approaching the time when she would be able to throw off the yoke and take up her life at the point where she had dropped it. She could afford to wait on events now. She could afford to possess her soul in patience till the hour and the man came together. Somewhat to her relief Fenwick did not appear at breakfast, so that for once she could partake of the meal in comparative comfort. Swaggering up and down the terrace outside, with a large cigar in his mouth, was the man who called himself Blosset. He had the air of one who was waiting for something, possibly he was waiting for the parcel which had been the means of breeding last night's disturbance in the billiard room. Anyway Vera noticed that Fenwick was very busy up and downstairs, and that all his parasites had gathered in the little room at the end of the corridor. For the present at any rate Vera's curiosity was satisfied. She had no intention of running any more risks, and as soon as she had finished her breakfast she went out into the grounds, with no intention of returning before lunch. She made her way across the wood which led to the high road, on the possible chance of meeting Gerald. It was not Gerald, however, who advanced from the deepest part of the cops to meet her, but the thin, cadaverous form of Felix Arie. He advanced towards the girl, and in a grave, respectful way, he lifted her hand to his lips. You had not expected me, dear lady, he said. Well no, Felix, Vera said, though I am not in the least surprised. I suppose Mr. Venner has been to see you, and has explained to you the meaning of that sheet of blank paper which reached you in an envelope bearing my handwriting. I have seen Mr. Venner, Zarry replied, in his smooth, respectful, even voice, and he explained to me, I did not suspect. If I had received your letter I should have come to you at once. I believe I would have come beyond the grave at the call of one bearing, the beloved name of Lyfyn you. There is nothing I would not do for you. At this moment I owe my life to your resourcefulness and courage. Had I come in response to your letter, I should never have left the house alive. Fenwick would have murdered me, and the vengeance of the four fingers would have been lost. Why should it not be, Vera said with a shutter? Why extract blood for blood in this fashion? Can all your revenge bring my dear father back to life again? And yet the vengeance draws nearer and nearer, as I know. I saw Mark Fenwick last night, after he had received the third of those dreadful messages, and he was frightened to the depths of his soul. Let me implore you not to go any further. It is not for me to say yes or no. Zari responded in the same quiet, silky manner. It seemed almost impossible to identify this man with murder and outrage. I am but an instrument. I can only follow the dictates of my instinct. I cannot get away from the traditions of the tribe to which I belong. For two years now I have been a wanderer on the face of the earth. I have been in many strange cities and seen many strange things. With the occult science that I inherited from my ancestors the Aztecs, I have earned my daily bread. I am what some call a medium, some call a conjurer, some call a charlatan, and a quack. It is all the same what they call me, so long as I have the knowledge. For generations the vengeance of the Four Fingers has descended upon those who violate the secret of the Mine, and so it must be to the end of time. If I did not obey the voice within me, if I refuse to recognize the forms of my ancestors, as they come to me in dreams, I should forever and ever be a spirit wandering through space. Ah, dear lady, there are things you do not know. Things, thank God, beyond your comprehension. So therefore do not interfere. Rest assured that this thing is absolute and inevitable. Zari spoke with a certain gentle inspiration, as if all this was part of some ritual that he was repeating by heart. Quiet, almost timid as he looked, Vera knew from past experience that no efforts of hers could turn him from his intention, that he would do anything for Elith in you she knew full well, and all this in return for some little kindness which her father had afforded one or two of the now almost extinct tribe from which had come the secret of the Four Finger Mine. And Zari was absolutely the last of his race. There would be none to follow him. Very well, she said, I see that anything I could say would be wasted on you, nor would I ask you what you are going to do next, because I am absolutely convinced that you would not tell me if I did. Still, I have a right to know. You have a right to know nothing, Zari said, in a tone of deep humility, but do not be afraid, the vengeance will not fall yet, for are not the warnings still incomplete? I will ask you to leave me here, and go your way. There was nothing for it but to obey, and Vera passed slowly through the wood in the direction of the high road. A strange, weird smile flickered about the corner of Zari's mouth, as he stood there still and motionless, like some black statue. His lips moved, but no words came from them. He appeared to be uttering something that might have passed for a silent prayer. He took a battered gold watch from his pocket and consulted it, with an air of grim satisfaction. Then, suddenly, he drew behind a thicket of undergrowth, for his quick ears detected the sound of approaching footsteps. Almost immediately, the big form of Fenwick loomed in the opening, and a hoarse voice asked if somebody were there. Zari stepped out again and confronted Fenwick, who started back as if the slim black apparition had been a ghost. You here? he stammered. I did not expect to see you. I came here prepared to find somebody quite different. It matters little whom you came to find, Zari said. The message sent to bring you here was merely a ruse of mine. Murderer and treacherous dog that you are. So you thought to get me here in the house among your hired assassins by means of the letter which you compelled my dear mistress to write. Are you mad that you should pit your paltry wits against mine? I am as good as you. Fenwick said. Oh, you rave, Zari went on. I am the heir of the ages. A thousand years of culture, of research, of peeps behind the veil, have gone to make me what I am. Your scientists and your occult researchers think they have discovered much. But compared with me, they are but as children arguing with sages. Before the letter was written, the spirits that float on the air had told me of its coming. I have only to raise my hand, and you wither up like a drop of dew in the eye of the sunshine. I have only to say the word, and you die a thousand lingering deaths in one. But for such cattle as you, the vengeance of the four fingers is enough. You shall die even as the Dutchman died. You shall perish miserably with your reason gone and your nerves shattered. If you could see yourself now, as I can see you, with that dreadful look of fear haunting your eyes, you would know that the dread poison had already begun its work. The third warning came to you last night. The message that you should get your affairs in order and be prepared for the inevitable. The Dutchman is no more. His foul wretch of a wife died. A poor wreck of a woman bereft of sense and reason. This is fine talk, Fenwick stammered. What have you against me that you should threaten me like this? Zari raced his hand aloft with a dramatic gesture. His great round black eyes were filled with a luminous fire. Listen, he said. Listen and heed. I am the last of my race. A race which has been persecuted by the alien and interloper for the last three centuries. Time was when we were a great and powerful people, educated and enlightened beyond the dreams of today. Our great curse was the possession of large tracts of land which contained the gold for which you Eastern people are prepared to barter honor and integrity and everything that the honest man holds dear. For it you are prepared to sacrifice your wives and children. You are prepared to cut the throat of your best friend. When you have found your heart's desire in my country, you came in your thousands and by degrees, murders and assassination worked havoc with my tribe. It was not till quite recently that there came another man from the East, a different class of creature altogether. I am alluding to your late brother-in-law, Georges Le Fenu. He sought no gold or treasure. He came to us. He healed us of diseases of which we knew no cure, and in return for that we gave him the secret of the forefinger mine. It was because he had the secret of the mine, and because he refused to share it with you, that you and the Dutchman, with the aid of his foul wife, killed him. It is a lie. Fenwick stammered. Georges Le Fenu suffered nothing at my hands. It was the young man, Evors. It is false. Zary thundered. His eyes were dark, and in a sudden flood of fury he reached out a long, thin hand, and clutched Fenwick by the collar. Why tell me this when I know so well, how the whole thing happened? I can give it to you now, chapter and verse. Only it would merely be a waste of breath. I declare as I stand here with my hand almost touching your flesh, that I can scarcely wait for the vengeance. So eager am I to extract the debt that you owe to Georges Le Fenu and his children. By way of reply Fenwick dashed his fists full into the face of Zary. The latter drew back just in time to avoid a crushing blow, then his long, thin arms twisted about the form of his bulky antagonist as a snake whines about his prey. So close and tenacious, so wonderfully tense was the grip that Fenwick fairly gasped for breath. He had not expected a virile force like this in one so slender. A bony leg was pressed into the small of his back. He tottered backward and lay upon the mossy turf with Zary with one bony hand at his throat on the top of him. It was also sudden and so utterly unexpected that Fenwick could only gasp in astonishment. Then he became conscious of the fact that Zary's great, luminous eyes were bent full of hate upon his face. A long, curved knife gleamed in the sunshine. Very slowly the words came from Zary. I could finish you now, he whispered. I could end it at once and for all. It is only for me to put in action the forces that I know of and you would utterly vanish from here, leaving no trace behind. One swift blow of this knife. What are you doing? A voice asked eagerly. Zary, have you taken leave of your senses? Release him at once, I say. Very slowly Zary replaced the knife in his pocket and rose to his feet. There was not the least trace of his recent passion. He was perfectly calm and collected, his breathing as even and regular, as it had been before the onslaught. You are quite right, master, he said. I had almost forgotten myself. I am humiliated and ashamed. The mere touch of that man is pollution. We shall meet again, Mr. Evors. Zary went calmly away and vanished into the thick undergrowth as quickly and mysteriously as if he had been spirited from the spot. Fenwick rose to his feet and wiped the stains from his clothing. I certainly owe you one for that, he growled. That fellow would most surely have murdered me if you had not come up just at the right moment. It is fortunate, too, that you should have turned up here just now. Come as far as the house. I should like to say a few words to you in private. It was well, perhaps, that Evors could not see the expression of his companion's face, that he did not note the look of mingled triumph and malice that distorted it. It never for a moment occurred to him, as possible, that black treachery could follow so closely upon the heels of his own magnanimity. Without the slightest demure, he followed Fenwick to the house. The latter led the way upstairs into a room overlooking the ancient part of the house. Mermoring something to the effect that here was the thing that he wished to show Evors. They were inside the room at length, then with a muttered excuse, Fenwick hastened from the room. The key clicked in the door outside, and Evors knew that he was once more a prisoner. You stay there till I want you, Fenwick cried. I'll teach you to play these tricks on me after all I've done for you. You rascal, Evors responded, and so you think that you have me a prisoner once more? Walk to the end of the corridor and back. Then come in here again, and I will have a pleasant surprise for you. You need not be afraid. I am not armed. Perhaps some sudden apprehension possessed Fenwick, for he turned rapidly as he was walking away, and once more opened the door. Evors had been as good as his word. The surprise which he had promised Fenwick was complete and absolute. Vanished! Fenwick cried. Gone! Curse him! What can have become of him? End of Chapter 22 Chapter 23 of The Mystery of the Four Fingers This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Mystery of the Four Fingers by Fred M. White Chapter 23 Smoked Out A feeling of helpless exasperation gripped Fenwick to the exclusion of all other emotions. Everything seemed to be going wrong just now. Turn in any direction he pleased, some obstacle blocked his path. Like most cunning criminals, he could never quite dispossess himself of the idea that honesty and cleverness never went together. All honest men were fools of necessity, and therefore legitimate prey of rogues like himself. And yet, though he was more or less confronted now with men of integrity, he was as helpless in their hands as if he had been a child. The maddening part of the whole thing was his inability to find anything to strike. He was like a general leading an army into the dark in a strange country, and knowing all the time that he had cunning unseen foes to fight. Thoughts like these were uppermost in Fenwick's mind as he gazed in consternation about the little room from which Evors had vanished. So far as Fenwick knew, Evors had saved his life from Zari, but that had not prevented Fenwick from behaving in a dastardly fashion. It seemed to him as if fate were playing into his hands by bringing Evors here at this moment. Hitherto he had found Evors such plastic material that he had never seriously considered him in the light of a foe. Now, for the first time, he saw how greatly he had been mistaken. Where can the fellow have gone to? He muttered. And once comes his intimate knowledge of the house. He tapped the walls. He examined the floor. But there was no sign whatever of the means by which Evors had made good his escape. Fenwick furiously rang the bell and demanded that the old caretaker should be sent to him at once. The man came to him, shambling unsteadily along, and breathing fast as if he had been running. His aged features were quivering with some strange excitement, as Fenwick did not fail to notice, despite his own perturbation. What on earth is the matter with you? He exclaimed. You look as if you have seen a ghost. What is it? Speak up, man. Isn't that, sir? The old man said in trembling tones, it is a sight that I never expected to see again. A bit wild he was, I, a rare handful at times, though we were all precious fond of him, and to see him back here again like this. What the devil are you talking about? Fenwick burst out furiously. The old fool is in his second childhood. It was the young master, the caretaker babbled on. Why, you could have knocked me down with a feather when he came in the house with you, as soon as I set eyes on Mr. Charles. Mr. what? Fenwick asked. Oh, I see what you mean. You are speaking of Mr. Evors, who came in with me. That's it, sir. That's it. The old man said, Mr. Evors? Only we used to call him Mr. Charles. Fenwick began to understand. Let's have it out, he said. Mr. Evors, whom you saw me with just now, is Lord Merton's only son. That he be, sir. That he be. And to think that he should come home like this. It'll be a good day for the old house, when he returns to settle down altogether. Fenwick dismissed the old man with a contemptuous gesture. He had found out all he wanted to know, though his information had come to him as an unpleasant surprise. It was a strange coincidence that Fenwick should have settled upon Merton Grange for a dwelling place, and thus had picked out the actual home of the young man who had suffered so much at his hands. But there was something beyond this that troubled Fenwick. It was a disturbing thought to know that Charles Evors could find his way about the house in this mysterious fashion. It was a still more disturbing thought to feel that Evors might be in league with those who were engaged in tracking down the so-called millionaire. There were certain things going on, which it was imperative to keep a profound secret. Doubtless there were secret passages and panels in this ancient house, and Fenwick turned cold at the thought that perhaps prying eyes had already solved the problem of the little room at the end of the corridor. He lost no time in calling his parasites about him, and in a few words he told them what had happened. Don't you see what this means? He said, Charles Evors is here. He has come back to his old home, and what is more, he has come back to keep an eye on us. I feel pretty certain that someone is behind him. Very likely it is that devil Zari. If the police were to walk in now, guided by Evors, we should be caught like rats in a trap. I didn't want to trust that stuff to blossom, but he must get away with it now without delay. There is a train about twelve o'clock to London, and he must get one of the servants to drive him over in a dog cart. Now don't stand gazing at me with your mouth open like that, for goodness knows how close the danger is. Get the stuff away at once! The man-blosset came into the garden, a big cigar between his lips. He laughed in his insolent fashion, when he was told of his errand. The hot blood was in Fenwick's face, but he had not time to quarrel with the swaggering blosset. I thought you would come to your senses, the latter said. Nobody like me to do a little thing of that sort. Now let me have the case, and I'll be off without delay. Better put it in a Gladstone bag. If I have any luck, I shall be back here tonight, and then we can share the banknotes, and there will be an end of the matter. You had better sink all the materials in the moat. Not that I'm afraid of anything happening myself. Half an hour later, Blosset was being bowled down the drive behind a fleet horse. A little later still, as the train pulled out of the station, Egan and Grady stood there, watching it with rueful faces. Venor was with them, and smiled to himself, despite the unfortunate nature of the situation. I thought we had cut it a bit too fine, Grady said. It is all the fault of that confounded watch of mine. Now what's the best thing to be done? Shall we telegraph to Scotland Yard, and ask to have Blosset detained when he reaches Victoria? I don't quite like the idea, Egan said. If we were English detectives, it wouldn't much matter. But I guess I don't want Scotland Yard to have the laugh of me like this. It may cost a deal of money, and I shall probably have to pay it out of my own pocket. But I am going to have a special train. My good man, Venor said. It is absurd to think that you could get a special train at a roadside station like this. Probably they do things differently in America. But if you suggest a special to the station master here, he will take you for an amiable lunatic. I have an idea that may work out all right, though it all depends upon whether the train that has gone out of the station is a fast or a slow one. The inquiry proved the fact that the train was a slow one, stopping at every station. It would be quite two hours in reaching Victoria. Venor smiled with the air of a man who was well pleased with himself. He turned eagerly to his companions. I think I've got it, he said. We will wound Fenwick with one of his own weapons. It will be the easiest thing in the world, to get from here to Victoria, well under two hours in a motor. I guess that's about true, Grady said dryly, but what applies to the special equally applies to the motor. Where are we to get the machine from? Borrow Fenwick's, Venor said. I understand the working of a Mercedes, and I know where the car is kept. If I go about this thing boldly, our success is assured. Then you can wait for me at the crossroads, and I can pick you up. Well, you can try it on, sir, Egan said doubtfully. If you fail, we must telegraph to Scotland Yard. But Venor had not the slightest intention of failing. There were no horses in the stable, Edmerton Grange, and consequently no helpers loafing about the yard. There stood the big car, and on a shelf, all the necessaries for setting the machine in motion. In an incredibly short space of time, Venor had backed the Mercedes into the yard. He turned her dexterously, and a moment later was speeding down a side avenue which led to the park. The good old saying that fortune favors the brave was not belied in this instance, for Venor succeeded in reaching the high road without mishap. It was very long odds against his theft being discovered, or at any rate for some considerable time, and even if the car were missing, no one could possibly identify its loss with the chase after Blosset. It was consequently in high spirits that the trio set out on their journey. Naturally enough, Venor was curious to know what the criminal charge would be. Though I have found out a good deal, he said, I am still utterly at a loss to know what these fellows have been up to. Of course, I quite understand that there is some underhand business with regard to certain coins, but then those coins are real gold, and it would not pay anybody to counterfeit sovereigns worth twenty shillings apiece. You don't think so, Egan said dryly. We shall be able to prove the contrary presently, but hadn't you better wait, sir, till the critical moment comes? Very well. Venor laughed good-naturedly. I'll wait and see what dramatic surprise you have in store for me. The powerful car sped over the roads, heedless of police traps or other troubles of that kind, and some time before the appointed hour for the arrival of Blosset's train in London, they had reached Victoria. It was an easy matter to store the car in a neighboring hotel, and presently they had the satisfaction of seeing Blosset swagger from a first-class carriage with a heavy Gladstone bag in his hand. He called a cab and was rapidly driven off in the direction of the city. Egan in his turn called another cab, giving the driver strict injunctions to keep the first vehicle in sight. It was a long chase, but it came to an end presently, outside an office in Wallbrook. Blosset paid his man and walked slowly up a flight of stairs, carrying his bag. He paused at length before a door, which was marked private, and also placarded the information that here was the business place of one drummond, commission agent. Scarcely had the door closed on Blosset, then Egan followed without ceremony. He motioned the other two to remain behind. He had some glib story to tell the solitary clerk in the outer office, from whom he gleaned the information that Mr. Drummond was engaged on some particular business and could not see him for some time. Very well, he said, I'll wait and read the paper. He sat there patiently for some five minutes, his quick ears strained to catch the faintest sound of what was taking place in the inner office. There came presently the chink of metal, whereupon the watcher whistled gently and his comrade and vener entered the room. Very coolly, Egan crossed over and locked the door. Now, my young friend, he said to the astonished clerk, you will oblige me by not making a single sound. I don't suppose for a moment you have had anything to do with this. In fact, from your bewildered expression, I am certain that you haven't. Now tell me, how long have you been in your present situation? About three months, the clerk replied. If you gentlemen happen to be police officers, that is exactly what we are, Grady smiled. Do you find business brisk, plenty of clients about? The clerk shook his head. He was understood to say that business was inclined to be slack. He was so frightened and uneasy, that it was somewhat difficult to discern what he was talking about. From time to time, there came sounds of tinkling metal from the inner office. Then Grady crossed the floor and opened the door. He stepped inside nimbly. There was a sudden cry, and then the voice of the detective broke out harshly. Now drop it, he said. Keep your hands out of your pocket. There are three of us here altogether, and the more fuss you make, the worse it will be for both of you. You know perfectly well who I am, Blosset. And we are old friends, too, Mr. Drummond. Though I don't know you by that name, you will come with me. But what's the charge, Blosset blustered? I am doing business with my friend here, quite in a legitimate way. Counterfeit coining, Grady said crisply. Oh, we know all about it, so you need not try to bluff it out in that way. I'll call a cab, and we can drive off comfortably to Bow Street. All the swaggering impudence vanished from Blosset. As for his companion, he had not said a word from start to finish. It was about an hour later that Venor and his companions were seated at lunch at a hotel in Covent Garden, and Venor was impatiently waiting to hear what was the charge which had laid Blosset and his companion by the heels. Grady smiled as he drew from his pocket what appeared to be a brand new sovereign. This is it, he said. A counterfeit. You wouldn't think so to look at it, would you? It appears to be perfectly genuine. If you will balance it on your finger, you will find that it is perfect weight, and as to the finish, at least nothing to be desired. And yet, that coin is false, though it contains as much gold as any coin that you have in your purse. Now I begin to understand, Venor exclaimed. I have already told you all about my discovery at the Empire Hotel, also what happened quite recently at Merton Grange. I could not for the life of me understand what those fellows had to gain by making sovereigns red hot. Of course, I took them to be real sovereigns. Well, so they are, practically, Egan said. They contain absolutely as much gold as an English coin of equal value. They are made from the metal Fenwick managed to loot from the forefinger mine. What, do you know all about that? Venor cried. We know all about everything, Grady said gravely. We have been tracking Fenwick for years, and it is a terrible indictment we shall have to lay against him when the proper time comes. We shall prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was one of the murderers of Mr. George Le Fenu, but we need not go into that now, for I see you are anxious to know all about the trick of the sovereigns. After Fenwick was compelled to abandon the forefinger mine, he found himself with a great deal less gold than he had expected. Then he hit upon the ingenious scheme, which we are here to expose. His plan was to make sovereigns and have sovereigns, and put them on the market as genuine coins. Now do you see what he had to gain by this ingenious program? End of Chapter 23 Chapter 24 of the Mystery of the Four Fingers This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Mystery of the Four Fingers by Fred M. White Chapter 24 The Mouth of the Net I am afraid I am very dense, Venner said, but I quite fail to see how a man could make a fortune by selling for a sovereign an article that cost him twenty shillings to say nothing of the trouble and cost of labor and the risk of being discovered. As a matter of fact, the risk is comparatively small, Grady said. It was only by a pure accident that we got on the inside track of this matter. You see, the coins are of actual face value. They are most beautifully made, and indeed would pass anywhere. Let me tell you that every sovereign contains a certain amount of alloy, which reduces its actual value to about eighteen and three pence. Now you see where the profit comes in. Supposing these men turn out a couple of thousand sovereigns a day, no very difficult matter with a plant like theirs, and of course, the money can be disposed of with the greatest possible ease. This leaves a profit of one hundred and seventy-five pounds a day. When I have said so much, I think I have told you everything. Don't you admire the ingenuity of an idea like this? It was all perfectly plain now. Indeed, the mystery appeared to be ridiculously simple, now that it was explained. And what are you going to do now? Venner asked. Grady explained that the next step would be the arrest of Fenwick and his gang at Burton Grange. For that purpose it would be necessary to enlist the assistance of the local authorities, and in no case did the American detectives propose to effect the arrest before night. So far as Venner was concerned, he was quite at liberty to accompany the Americans on their errand. At the same time they let him infer that there was a situation in which they preferred his room to his company. As you will, Venner smiled. So far as I am concerned, I am going to get back to Canterbury as soon as I can. With all your preparations, you have an exceedingly clever man to deal with. And it is just possible that by this time Fenwick already knows that you have laid the messenger by the heels. Men of that sort never trust one another, and it is exceedingly probable that Blosset has been watched. Grady and Egan admitted this possibility cheerfully enough. Doubtless they had made plans which they did not care to communicate to Venner. He left them presently, only to discover to his annoyance that he had just missed a train to Canterbury, and that there was not another one till nearly six o'clock. It was quite dark when he stepped out of the carriage at Canterbury Station, and stood debating whether he should walk as far as the lodgings he had taken near Merton Grange or Colocab. As he was idly making up his mind, he saw to his surprise the figure of the handsome cripple descending from the next carriage. He noted, too, that the cripple did not seem anything like as feeble as before, though he appeared to be glad enough to lean on the arm of a servant. At the same moment Liffenew was joined by Evors, who came eagerly forward and took him warmly by the hand. What these two were doing here, and what they had in their minds, it was not for Venner to say. He wondered what they would think if they knew how close he was, and how deeply interested he was in their movements. He hung back in the shadow, for just then he did not want to be recognized by Liffenew. What a queer tangle it all is, he said to himself. If I spoke to Liffenew, he would recognize me in a moment as an old friend of his father's. I wonder what he would say to me if he knew I was his brother-in-law, and Evors, too. Imagine their astonishment if I walked up to them at this moment. Still, on the whole, I think I prefer to watch their movements. If they are going to thrust their heads into the lion's mouth, perhaps I may be able to stand by and render some assistance. It was as Venner had anticipated. For presently Liffenew and Evors entered a cab, and gave the driver directions to take them as far as Merton Grange. Venner made up his mind that he could do no better than follow their example. The cab stopped at length outside the lodge gates, where Evors and Liffenew alighted, and walked slowly up the drive. It was rather a painful effort for Liffenew, but he managed it a great deal better than Venner had anticipated. They did not enter the house by the front door. On the contrary, they crept round a small side entrance, beyond which they vanished, leaving Venner standing on the grass, wondering what he had better do next. Meanwhile, Evors led the way down a flight of stairs, till he emerged presently in a corridor. With his companion on his arm he walked to the little room at the end, and boldly flung open the door. The room was empty, a thing which both of them seemed to expect, for they smiled at one another in a significant manner, and nodded with the air of men who are quite pleased with themselves. You had better sit down, Evors said. That walk must have tired you terribly. I should be exceedingly sorry. You need not worry about me, Liffenew said in a clear, hard voice. I am a little tired, perhaps, but I have a duty to fulfill, and the knowledge of it has braced me wonderfully. Besides, I am so much better of late, and I am looking eagerly forward to the time when I shall be as other men. Now go and fetch him, and let us get the thing done. But for the fact that he is my mother's brother, I would have had no mercy on the scoundrel. Still, the same blood flows in our veins, and I am in a merciful mood tonight. Evors walked boldly out of the room, and down the stairs into the hall. Then, in a loud voice, he called out the name of Mark Fenwick. The dining-room door burst open, and Fenwick strode out, his yellow face blazing with passion in the light. So you are back again, he said hoarsely. You are a bold man to thrust your head into the lion's mouth like this. There are others equally bold, Evors said coolly. I am strong enough and able enough to take you by that fat throat of yours, and choke the life out of you. You have a different man to deal with now. But there are others to be considered, so I will trouble you to come along with me. The interview had best take place in the little room at the end of the corridor. You know the room, I mean. Ah! I see you do. Fenwick started. It was quite plain that Evors' hint was not lost on him. Without another word, he led the way up the staircase into the little room. He started again, and half turned when he caught sight of the white, handsome face of Lyffin Yu. In all probability he would have disappeared altogether, but for the fact that Evors closed the door and turned the key. Fenwick stood there, his yellow face scared and terrified. Cold as it was, a beat of perspiration stood on his bulging forehead. He looked from one to the other as if he anticipated violence. Lyffin Yu sat up in his chair and laughed aloud. You are but a sorry coward after all, he said. You have no need to fear us in the slightest. We shall leave the vengeance to come in the hands of others. And now sit down, though you are not fit to take a chair in the company of any honest men. In my own house, Fenwick began feebly. You are— We will overlook that, Lyffin Yu went on. It is our turn now, and I don't think you will find our conditions too harsh. It is not so long ago since my friend here was a prisoner in your hands. And since you reduced him to such a condition of mind that he had abandoned hope and lost all desire to live. It is not so long ago, either, since you dared to make me a prisoner in my own house for your own ends. It was fortunate for you that I chose to live more or less alone in London and under an assumed name. But all the time I was looking for you, all the time I was working out my plans for your destruction, then you found me out. You began to see how I could be useful to you, how I could become your miserable tool, as Mr. Evors here did. You dared not stay at your hotel. Things were not quite ripe for you to come down here. Therefore you hid upon the ingenious idea of making me a prisoner under my own roof. But fate, which has been waiting for you a long time, intervened, and I became a free man again, just at the very moment, when Mr. Evors also regained his liberty. Since then we have met more than once, and the whole tale of your villainy is now plain before me. You might have been content with the murder of my father, and the blood money you extracted from the forefinger mine. But that was not enough for you, nothing less than the extermination of our race sufficed. It was no fault of yours that I was not killed in the so-called accident that has made me the cripple that I am. That was all arranged by you, as I shall be able to prove when the proper time comes. I escaped death by a miracle, and good friends of mine hid me away beyond the reach of your arm. Even then you had no sort of mercy. Even then you were not content with the mischief you had wrought. You must do your best to pin your crime on Mr. Evors, though that conspiracy cost my sister Beth her reason. Of course, you would deny all these things, and I see you are prepared to deny them now. But it is absolutely useless to add one lie to another, because we know full well. Stop! Fenwood cried. What are you here for? Why do you tell me this? A desperate man like myself. No threats, Liffin you said sternly. I am simply here to warn you. God knows what an effort it is on my part, not to hand you over to your punishment. But I cannot forget that you are a blood relative of mine, and therefore I am disposed to spare you. Still, there is another nemesis awaiting you, which nemesis I need not mention by name. When I look at your left hand I feel sorry for you. Bad as you are, the terrible fate which is yours moves me to a kind of pity. Liffin you paused, and glanced significantly at Fenwick's maimed hand. The latter had nothing more to say. All his swaggering assurance had left him. He sat huddled up in his chair. A picture of abject terror and misery. You can help me if you will, he said hoarsely. You are speaking of Zari, that man is no human being at all. He is no more than a cold-blooded tiger, and yet he would do anything for you and yours, if you asked him to spare me. Fenwick broke off and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders were heaving with convulsive sobs now. Tears of self-pity ran through his fingers. For the time being, at any rate, the man's nerve was utterly gone. He was prepared to make any conditions to save his skin. Agitated and broken as he was, his cunning mind was yet moving swiftly. A little time ago these two men would not have dared to intrude themselves upon his presence. He had held them like prisoners in the hollow of his hand, and now it seemed to him that they must feel their position to be impregnable, or they would never have intruded upon him in this bold fashion. I am not the man I was, he gassed. It is only lately that my nerve seems to have utterly deserted me. You do not know what it is to be fighting in the dark against a foe so cold and relentless as Felix Zari. When the first warning came, I was alarmed. The second warning frightened me till I woke in the night with a suffocating feeling at my heart as if I were going to die. Against the third warning I took the most elaborate precautions, but it came all the same, and since then I have been drinking to drown my terror. But what is the good of that? How little does it serve me in my sober moments. As I said just now, Zari would do anything for your family, and if you would induce him to forego that dreaded vengeance which hangs over me. Impossible, Lefennus said coldly. Zari is a fanatic, a dreamer of dreams. He has a religion of his own, which no one else in the world understands but himself. He firmly and honestly believes that some divine power is impelling him on, that he is merely an instrument in the hands of the maker of the universe. There have been other beings of the same class, in a way. Charlotte Corday believed herself to be the chosen champion of heaven when she stabbed the French monster in his bath. Nothing I could say or do would turn Zari from what he believes to be his duty. The only thing you can do is to go away and lose yourself in some foreign country where Zari cannot follow you. Impossible, Fenwick said hoarsely. I could not get away. If the man possesses the powers he claims he would know where to find me, even if I hid myself in the depths of a Brazilian forest. I tell you I am doomed. I cannot get away from the inevitable. Fenwick slipped from his chair and fairly groveled in his anguish on the floor. It was a pitiable sight but one that moved the watchers with contempt. They waited patiently enough for the paroxym of terror to pass and for Fenwick to resume something like the outer semblance of manhood. He drew himself up at length and wiped the tears from his sickly yellow face. I cannot think, he said. My mind seems to have ceased to act. If either of you have any plan I shall be grateful to hear it. It seems almost impossible. The speaker suddenly paused, for there came from below the unmistakable sounds of high voices raised in expostulation. It occurred to Fenwick for a moment that his subordinates were quarreling among themselves. Then his quick ears discerned the sound of strange voices. He rose to his feet and made in the direction of the door. A minute later a stealthy tap was heard on the door and a voice whispered, asking to be admitted. Evor's glance at Lyffin knew in an interrogative kind of way, as if asking for instructions. The latter nodded and the door opened. The man in the list slippers staggered into the room, his red face white and quivering, his whole aspect eloquent of fear. What is it? Fenwick whispered. What's the trouble? Why don't you speak out, man, instead of standing there like that? The man found his voice at last. His words came thickly. They are here, he said. The man from America. You know who I mean. Get away at once. Wait for nothing. Those two devils, Egan and Grady, are downstairs in the hall.