II
"But, damme, sir, the thing's an outrage! I don't mince my words, Mr.Narkom--I say plump and plain the thing's an outrage, a disgrace to thepolice, an indignity upon the community at large; and for Scotland Yardto permit itself to be defied, bamboozled, mocked at in this appallingfashion by a paltry burglar--"
"Uncle, dear, pray don't excite yourself in this manner. I am quite surethat if Mr. Narkom could prevent the things--"
"Hold your tongue, Ailsa--I will not be interfered with! It's time thatsomebody spoke out plainly and let this establishment know what thepublic has a right to expect of it. What do I pay my rates and taxesfor--and devilish high ones they are, too, b'gad--if it's not tomaintain law and order and the proper protection of property? And tohave the whole blessed country terrorised, the police defied, andpeople's houses invaded with impunity by a gutter-bred brute of acracksman is nothing short of a scandal and a shame! Call this sort oftomfoolery being protected by the police? God bless my soul! one mightas well be in charge of a parcel of doddering old women and be done withit!"
It was an hour and a half after that exciting affair at "Dead Man'sCorner." The scene was Superintendent Narkom's private room atheadquarters, the dramatis personae, Mr. Maverick Narkom himself, SirHorace Wyvern, and Miss Ailsa Lorne, his niece, a slight, fair-haired,extremely attractive girl of twenty, the only and orphaned daughter of amuch-loved sister, who, up till a year ago, had known nothing moreexciting in the way of "life" than that which is to be found in a smallvillage in Suffolk, and falls to the lot of an underpaid vicar's onlychild. A railway accident had suddenly deprived her of both parents,throwing her wholly upon her own resources, without a penny in theworld. Sir Horace had gracefully come to the rescue and given her a homeand a refuge, being doubly repaid for it by the affection and care shegave him and the manner in which she assumed control of a householdwhich hitherto had been left wholly to the attention of servants, LadyWyvern having long been dead, and her two daughters of that type whichdevotes itself entirely to the pleasures of society and the demands ofthe world. A regular pepper-box of a man--testy, short-tempered,exacting--Sir Horace had flown headlong to Superintendent Narkom'soffice as soon as that gentleman's note, telling him of the VanishingCracksman's latest threat, had been delivered, and, on Miss Lorne'sadvice, had withheld all news of it from the members of his householdand brought her with him.
"I tell you that Scotland Yard must do something--must! must! must!"stormed he as Narkom, resenting that stigma upon the institution,puckered up his lips and looked savage. "That fellow has always kept hisword--always, in spite of your precious band of muffs--and if you lethim keep it this time, when there's upwards of ?40,000 worth of jewelsin the house, it will be nothing less than a national disgrace, and youand your wretched collection of bunglers will be covered with deservedridicule."
Narkom swung round, smarting under these continued taunts, these"flings" at the efficiency of his prided department, his nostrilsdilated, his temper strained to the breaking-point.
"Well, he won't keep it this time--I promise you that!" he rapped outsharply. "Sooner or later every criminal, no matter how clever, meetshis Waterloo--and this shall be his! I'll take this affair in handmyself, Sir Horace. I'll not only send the pick of my men to guard thejewels, but I'll go with them; and if that fellow crosses the thresholdof Wyvern House to-night, by the Lord, I'll have him. He will have to bethe devil himself to get away from me! Miss Lorne"--recollecting himselfand bowing apologetically--"I ask your pardon for this stronglanguage--my temper got the better of my manners."
"It does not matter, Mr. Narkom, so that you preserve my cousin'swedding-gifts from that appalling man," she answered with a gentleinclination of the head and with a smile that made the superintendentthink she must certainly be the most beautiful creature in all theworld, it so irradiated her face and added to the magic of her gloriouseyes. "It does not matter what you say, what you do, so long as youaccomplish that."
"And I will accomplish it--as I'm a living man, I will! You may go homefeeling assured of that. Look for my men some time before dusk, SirHorace--I will arrive later. They will come in one at a time. See thatthey are admitted by the area door, and that, once in, not one of themleaves the house again before I put in an appearance. I'll look themover when I arrive to be sure that there's no wolf in sheep's clothingamongst them. With a fellow like that--a diabolical rascal with adiabolical gift for impersonation--one can't be too careful. Meantime,it is just as well not to have confided this news to your daughters,who, naturally, would be nervous and upset; but I assume that you havetaken some one of the servants into your confidence in order that nobodymay pass them and enter the house under any pretext whatsoever?"
"No, I have not. Miss Lorne advised against it, and, as I am alwaysguided by her, I said nothing of the matter to anybody."
"Was that wrong, do you think, Mr. Narkom?" queried Ailsa anxiously. "Ifeared that if they knew they might lose their heads, and that mycousins, who are intensely nervous and highly emotional, might hear ofit, and add to our difficulties by becoming hysterical and demanding ourattention at a time when we ought to be giving every moment to watchingfor the possible arrival of that man. And as he has always lived up tothe strict letter of his dreadful promises heretofore, I knew that hewas not to be expected before nightfall. Besides, the jewels are lockedup in the safe in Sir Horace's consulting-room, and his assistant, Mr.Merfroy, has promised not to leave it for one instant before we return."
"Oh, well, that's all right, then. I dare say there is very littlelikelihood of our man getting in whilst you and Sir Horace are here, andtaking such a risk as stopping in the house until nightfall to begin hisoperations. Still, it was hardly wise, and I should advise hurrying backas fast as possible and taking at least one servant--the one you feelleast likely to lose his head--into your confidence, Sir Horace, andputting him on the watch for my men. Otherwise, keep the matter as quietas you have done, and look for me about nine o'clock. And rely upon thisas a certainty: the Vanishing Cracksman will never get away with evenone of those jewels if he enters that house to-night, and never get outof it unshackled!"
With that, he suavely bowed his visitors out and rang up the pick of hismen without an instant's delay.
Promptly at nine o'clock he arrived, as he had promised, at WyvernHouse, and was shown into Sir Horace's consulting-room, where Sir Horacehimself and Miss Lorne were awaiting him, and keeping close watch beforethe locked door of a communicating apartment in which sat the six menwho had preceded him. He went in and put them all and severally througha rigid examination--pulling their hair and beards, rubbing their faceswith a clean handkerchief in quest of any trace of "make-up" or disguiseof any sort, examining their badges and the marks on the handcuffs theycarried with them to make sure that they bore the sign which he himselfhad scratched upon them in the privacy of his own room a couple of hoursago.
"No mistake about this lot," he announced, with a smile. "Has anybodyelse entered or attempted to enter the house?"
"Not a soul," replied Miss Lorne. "I didn't trust anybody to do thewatching, Mr. Narkom--I watched myself."
"Good. Where are the jewels? In that safe?"
"No," replied Sir Horace. "They are to be exhibited in thepicture-gallery for the benefit of the guests at the wedding breakfastto-morrow, and as Miss Wyvern wished to superintend the arrangement ofthem herself, and there would be no time for that in the morning, sheand her sister are in there laying them out at this moment. As I couldnot prevent that without telling them what we have to dread, I did notprotest against it; but if you think it will be safer to return them tothe safe after my daughters have gone to bed, Mr. Narkom--"
"Not at all necessary. If our man gets in, their lying there in fullview like that will prove a tempting bait, and--well, he'll find there'sa hook behind it. I shall be there waiting for him. Now go and join theladies, you and Miss Lorne, and act as though nothing out of the commonwas in the wind. My men and I will stop here, and you had bett
er put outthe light and lock us in, so that there may be no danger of anybodyfinding out that we are here. No doubt Miss Wyvern and her sister willgo to bed earlier than usual on this particular occasion. Let them doso. Send the servants to bed, too. You and Miss Lorne go to your beds atthe same time as the others--or, at least, let them think that you havedone so; then come down and let us out."
To this Sir Horace assented, and, taking Miss Lorne with him, went atonce to the picture-gallery and joined his daughters, with whom theyremained until eleven o'clock. Promptly at that hour, however, the housewas locked up, the bride-elect and her sister went to bed--the servantshaving already gone to theirs--and stillness settled down over thedarkened house. At the end of a dozen minutes, however, it was faintlydisturbed by the sound of slippered feet coming along the passageoutside the consulting-room, then a key slipped into the lock, the doorwas opened, the light switched on, and Sir Horace and Miss Lorneappeared before the eager watchers.
"Now, then, lively, my men--look sharp!" whispered Narkom. "A man toeach window and each staircase, so that nobody may go up or down or inor out without dropping into the arms of one of you. Confine yourattention to this particular floor, and if you hear anybody coming, laylow until he's within reach, and you can drop on him before he bolts. Isthis the door of the picture-gallery, Sir Horace?"
"Yes," answered Sir Horace, as he fitted a key to the lock. "But surelyyou will need more men than you have brought, Mr. Narkom, if it is yourintention to guard every window individually, for there are four to thisroom--see!"
With that he swung open the door, switched on the electric light, andNarkom fairly blinked at the dazzling sight that confronted him. Threelong tables, laden with crystal and silver, cut glass and jewels, andrunning the full length of the room, flashed and scintillated under theglare of the electric bulbs which encircled the cornice of the gallery,and clustered in luminous splendour in the crystal and frosted silver ofa huge central chandelier, and spread out on the middle one of these--adazzle of splintered rainbows, a very plain of living light--lay casketsand cases, boxes and trays, containing those royal gifts of which thenewspapers had made so much and the Vanishing Cracksman had sworn tomake so few.
Mr. Narkom went over and stood beside the glittering mass, resting hishand against the table and feasting his eyes upon all that opulentsplendour.
"God bless my soul! it's superb, it's amazing," he commented. "No wonderthe fellow is willing to take risks for a prize like this. You are asplendid temptation; a gorgeous bait, you beauties; but the fish thatsnaps at you will find that there's a nasty hook underneath in the shapeof Maverick Narkom. Never mind the many windows, Sir Horace. Let himcome in by them, if that's his plan. I'll never leave these things forone instant between now and the morning. Good night, Miss Lorne. Go tobed and to sleep--you do the same, Sir Horace. My lay is here!"
With that he stooped and, lifting the long drapery which covered thetable and swept down in heavy folds to the floor, crept out of sightunder it, and let it drop back into place again.
"Switch off the light and go," he called to them in a low-sunk voice."Don't worry yourselves, either of you. Go to bed, and to sleep if youcan."
"As if we could," answered Miss Lorne agitatedly. "I shan't be able toclose an eyelid. I'll try, of course, but I know I shall not succeed.Come, uncle, come! Oh, do be careful, Mr. Narkom; and if that horribleman does come--"
"I'll have him, so help me God!" he vowed. "Switch off the light, andshut the door as you go out. This is 'Forty Faces'' Waterloo at last."
And in another moment the light snicked out, the door closed, and he wasalone in the silent room.
For ten or a dozen minutes not even the bare suggestion of a noisedisturbed the absolute stillness; then of a sudden, his trained earcaught a faint sound that made him suck in his breath and rise on hiselbow, the better to listen--a sound which came, not without the house,but from within, from the dark hall where he had stationed his men, tobe exact. As he listened he was conscious that some living creature hadapproached the door, touched the handle, and by the swift, low rustleand the sound of hard breathing, that it had been pounced upon andseized. He scrambled out from beneath the table, snicked on the light,whirled open the door, and was in time to hear the irritable voice ofSir Horace say, testily: "Don't make an ass of yourself by yourover-zealousness. I've only come down to have a word with Mr. Narkom,"and to see him standing on the threshold, grotesque in a baggy suit ofstriped pyjamas, with one wrist enclosed as in a steel band by thegripped fingers of Petrie.
"Why didn't you say it was you, sir?" exclaimed that crestfallenindividual, as the flashing light made manifest his mistake. "When Iheard you first, and see you come up out of that back passage, I madesure it was him; and if you'd a struggled, I'd have bashed your head assure as eggs."
"Thank you for nothing," he responded testily. "You might haveremembered, however, that the man's first got to get into the placebefore he can come downstairs. Mr. Narkom," turning to thesuperintendent, "I was just getting into bed when I thought of somethingI'd neglected to tell you; and as my niece is sitting in her room withthe door open, and I wasn't anxious to parade myself before her in mynight clothes, I came down by the back staircase. I don't know how inthe world I came to overlook it, but I think you ought to know thatthere's a way of getting into the picture gallery without using eitherthe windows or the stairs, and that way ought to be both searched andguarded."
"Where is it? What is it? Why in the world didn't you tell me in thefirst place?" exclaimed Narkom irritably, as he glanced round the placesearchingly. "Is it a panel? a secret door? or what? This is an oldhouse, and old houses are sometimes a very nest of such things."
"Happily, this one isn't. It's a modern innovation, not an ancientrelic, that offers the means of entrance in this case. A Yankee occupiedthis house before I bought it from him--one of those blessed shiveryindividuals his country breeds, who can't stand a breath of cold airindoors after the passing of the autumn. The wretched man put one ofthose wretched American inflictions, a hot-air furnace, in the cellar,with huge pipes running to every room in the house--great tinmonstrosities bigger round than a man's body, ending in openings in thewall, with what they call 'registers,' to let the heat in, or shut itout as they please. I didn't have the wretched contrivance removed orthose blessed 'registers' plastered up. I simply had them papered overwhen the rooms were done up (there's one over there near that settee),and if a man got into this house, he could get into that furnace thingand hide in one of those flues until he got ready to crawl up it aseasily as not. It struck me that perhaps it would be as well for you toexamine that furnace and those flues before matters go any further."
"Of course it would. Great Scott! Sir Horace, why didn't you think totell me of this thing before?" said Narkom, excitedly. "The fellow maybe in it at this minute. Come, show me the wretched thing."
"It's below--in the cellar. We shall have to go down the kitchen stairs,and I haven't a light."
"Here's one," said Petrie, unhitching a bull's-eye from his belt andputting it into Narkom's hand. "Better go with Sir Horace at once, sir.Leave the door of the gallery open and the light on. Fish and me willstand guard over the stuff till you come back, so in case the man is inone of them flues and tries to bolt out at this end, we can nab himbefore he can get to the windows."
"A good idea," commented Narkom. "Come on, Sir Horace. Is this the way?"
"Yes, but you'll have to tread carefully, and mind you don't fall overanything. A good deal of my paraphernalia--bottles, retorts and thelike--is stored in the little recess at the foot of the staircase, andmy assistant is careless and leaves things lying about."
Evidently the caution was necessary, for a minute or so after they hadpassed on and disappeared behind the door leading to the kitchenstairway, Petrie and his colleagues heard a sound as of something beingoverturned and smashed, and laughed softly to themselves. Evidently,too, the danger of the furnace had been grossly exaggerated by SirHorace, for when, a fe
w minutes later, the door opened and closed, andNarkom's men, glancing toward it, saw the figure of their chiefreappear, it was plain that he was in no good temper, since his featureswere knotted up into a scowl, and he swore audibly as he snapped theshutter over the bull's-eye and handed it back to Petrie.
"Nothing worth looking into, superintendent?"
"No--not a thing!" he replied. "The silly old josser! pulling me downthere amongst the coals and rubbish for an insane idea like that! Why,the flues wouldn't admit the passage of a child; and even then, there'sa bend--an abrupt 'elbow'--that nothing but a cat could crawl up. Andthat's a man who's an authority on the human brain! I sent the old sillyback to bed by the way he came, and if--"
There he stopped, stopped short, and sucked in his breath with a sharp,wheezing sound. For, of a sudden, a swift pattering footfall and aglimmer of moving light had sprung into being and drawn his eyes upward;and there, overhead, was Miss Lorne coming down the stairs from theupper floor in a state of nervous excitement, and with a bedroom candlein her shaking hand, a loose gown flung on over her nightdress, and herhair streaming over her shoulders in glorious disarray.
He stood and looked at her, with ever-quickening breath, withever-widening eyes, as though the beauty of her had wakened some dormantsense whose existence he had never suspected; as though, until now, hehad never known how fair it was possible for a woman to be, how fair,how lovable, how much to be desired; and whilst he was so looking shereached the foot of the staircase and came pantingly toward him.
"Oh, Mr. Narkom, what was it--that noise I heard?" she said in a tone ofdeepest agitation. "It sounded like a struggle--like the noise ofsomething breaking--and I dressed as hastily as I could and came down.Did he come? Has he been here? Have you caught him? Oh! why don't youanswer me, instead of staring at me like this? Can't you see hownervous, how frightened, I am? Dear Heaven! will no one tell me what hashappened?"
"Nothing has happened, miss," answered Petrie, catching her eye as sheflashed round on him. "You'd better go back to bed. Nobody's been herebut Sir Horace. The noise you heard was me a-grabbing of him, and he andMr. Narkom a-tumbling over something as they went down to look at thefurnace."
"Furnace? What furnace? What are you talking about?" she criedagitatedly. "What do you mean by saying that Sir Horace came down?"
"Only what the superintendent himself will tell you, miss, if you askhim. Sir Horace came downstairs in his pyjamas a few minutes ago to sayas he'd recollected about the flues of the furnace in the cellar beingbig enough to hold a man, and then him and Mr. Narkom went below to havea look at it."
She gave a sharp and sudden cry, and her face went as pale as a deadface.
"Sir Horace came down?" she repeated, moving back a step and leaningheavily against the bannister. "Sir Horace came down to look at thefurnace? We have no furnace!"
"What!"
"We have no furnace, I tell you, and Sir Horace did not come down. He isup there still. I know--I know, I tell you--because I feared for hissafety, and when he went to his room I locked him in!"
"Superintendent!" The word was voiced by every man present, and sixpairs of eyes turned toward Narkom with a look of despairingcomprehension.
"Get to the cellar. Head the man off! It's he--the Cracksman!" heshouted out. "Find him! Get him! Nab him, if you have to turn the houseupside down!"
They needed no second bidding, for each man grasped the situationinstantly, and in a twinkling there was a veritable pandemonium.Shouting and scrambling like a band of madmen, they lurched to the door,whirled it open, and went flying down the staircase to the kitchen andso to a discovery which none might have foreseen. For, almost as theyentered they saw lying on the floor a suit of striped pyjamas, and closeto it, gagged, bound, helpless, trussed up like a goose that was readyfor the oven, gyves on his wrists, gyves on his ankles, their chief,their superintendent, Mr. Maverick Narkom, in a state of collapse, andwith all his outer clothing gone!
"After him! After that devil, and a thousand pounds to the man that getshim!" he managed to gasp as they rushed to him and ripped loose the gag."He was here when we came! He has been in the house for hours. Get him!get him! get him!"
They surged from the room and up the stairs like a pack of stampededanimals; they raced through the hall and bore down on thepicture-gallery in a body, and, whirling open the now closed door, wenttumbling headlong in.
The light was still burning. At the far end of the room a window waswide open, and the curtains of it fluttered in the wind. A collection ofempty cases and caskets lay on the middle table, but man and jewels werealike gone! Once again the Vanishing Cracksman had lived up to hispromise, up to his reputation, up to the very letter of his name, andfor all Mr. Maverick Narkom's care and shrewdness, "Forty Faces" had"turned the trick" and Scotland Yard was "done!"