The Green Eyes of Bâst

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE GOLDEN CAT

  It was a perfect morning and although the sun had not yet attained toits full power it had dispersed the early mist and I knew that inanother hour or less the heat would once more have become tropical.During the first part of my walk, and whilst I remained in theneighborhood of Upper Crossleys, I met never a wayfarer, and memoriesof the green eyes followed me step by step so that I was often temptedto look back over my shoulder by the idea that I should detect, as Ihad detected once before, the presence of some follower. I resentedthis impulse, however. I felt that my imagination was adding horrorsto those which already actually existed, so that I should presentlyfind myself unable to distinguish the real from the imaginary.

  At the end of half an hour's steady tramping I saw before me a placewhere a wood dipped down to the wayside so that its trees cast a broadshadow across the path. I knew that the entrance to the farm lay justbeyond; and, pressing on past the trees, I saw many outbuildingshaving none of that deserted appearance which characterized theneighboring homesteads of Upper Crossleys. Twenty yards beyond thefarm itself appeared in view.

  There was some sign of activity about the yard, and, walking brisklyforward, I presently found myself looking into a stone-paved placecontaining numbers of milk-cans. Here a woman was engaged in sweepingthe floor, and:

  "I have called to see Mr. Edward Hines," I said. "Can you tell mewhere I shall find him?"

  The woman stared at me in a strange and almost stupefied manner.

  "Is he a friend of yours?" she inquired.

  "He is not exactly a friend of mine," I continued; "but I have veryparticular business with him."

  She continued to stare in that curious way and remained silent for solong that I began to think she was not going to reply, when:

  "If Mr. Edward is not expecting you," she said, "I don't know that Ishould advise you to go in. He is not very well just now--and he issometimes rather strange."

  "I know," I said. "I quite understand; but he will be willing to seeme when he knows what I have come about. Shall I find him yonder?"

  I pointed towards an open door leading to which was a neat, graveledpath lined by well-kept flower-beds, and which I took to be the mainentrance to the farm.

  "Well, sir," said the woman doubtfully, "they'll tell you there if Mr.Edward is to be seen; but I don't advise it"

  "That's all right!" I cried, and proceeded in the direction of thedoorway.

  I presently obtained a view of a cozily furnished room, where awhite-haired old lady was bustling about engaged in some domesticduties. I paused at the threshold.

  "My name is Addison," I said. "Would it be possible for me to have afew minutes' conversation with Mr. Edward Hines?"

  The old lady (whom I suspected to be the mother of the youth whom Iwas seeking) paused in the midst of her task and looked at me in atroubled way. It was evident enough that the reputation of Mr. Edwardwas the same in his home as elsewhere, and it occurred to me that hisupbringing must have been a very bad one.

  "Well," she replied, after this eloquent pause, "he's up in his roomcertainly, but he doesn't like to see visitors, I know."

  "He will be perfectly willing to see _me_," I said, confidently. "Ihave news of importance for him"--and as she continued to look at mein that troubled way: "I know of his present disfigurement," Iexplained. "You need not be afraid of any unpleasant scenes."

  "If I were sure of that," she said hesitatingly, and looked me overwith a critical eye. "Does he know you, sir?"

  "Oh, yes," I answered; "we have met before. I assure you it will bequite all right if you will just let me walk up and announce myself tohim, Mrs. Hines."

  If I had had any doubt upon the point I was soon to learn that she wasindeed the mother of the notorious Mr. Edwards; for, ere she had timeto reply, a high-pitched, querulous voice which I had heard beforecried out from somewhere above:

  "If that's any one for me, mother, tell him to go away! You knowperfectly well I won't see any one."

  "There you are, sir," said Mrs. Hines, unable to hide herembarrassment; "I told you he wouldn't see you."

  "Please give me permission to go up," I said; "he will change his mindwhen he hears what I have to say."

  "You hear, mother!" came the irritable voice; "I'll break his neck ifhe comes up here!"

  Judging from the sound of the voice, I concluded that the excitedyoung man was located in a room immediately above that at the door ofwhich I stood.

  "Don't be alarmed, madam," I said, and, stepping into the room, Iplaced my hand reassuringly upon the old lady's shoulder.

  Without waiting for any further protest I advanced to an openstaircase which I had already marked as leading to the apartment aboveand confidently mounted. The copy-hunting pressman is not readilyexcluded, and a few moments later I found myself in an extremelyuntidy bedroom, the walls of which were decorated with sportingprints, Kirchner drawings and photographs of many damsels.

  The scarred young man, his face still a mass of sticking-plaster,stood with clenched fists facing me, and:

  "Get out!" was his greeting--"before I throw you out."

  "My dear sir," I said, "unless you particularly want to figure in avery undignified light as a witness in a trial for murder, sit downand listen to me."

  Edward Hines hesitated, opening and closing his hands and glaring atme in a preposterous fury.

  "What's the game?" he demanded. "What are you talking about?"

  "I am talking of 'the _Oritoga_ mystery,'" I replied.

  "The _Oritoga_ mystery?"

  His expression changed, and he dropped down into an armchair fromwhich he had evidently arisen upon hearing my voice below. I observeda copy of a daily paper lying upon the carpet, and the conspicuousheadline was sufficient to show me that he had actually been readingthe latest reports concerning the case at the time of my arrival. Ihad judged my man pretty accurately by this time, and drawing upanother chair which stood near me I sat down facing him, holding outmy open cigar-case.

  "I quite understand your sensitiveness in the circumstances," I saidsoothingly; "but there is no occasion to suppose that I have come toremind you of your misfortune. Have a cigar. I want a chat with you."

  He continued to watch me in a lowering way, but I was graduallygetting him in hand. With very poor grace he accepted a cigar, lightedit, and threw the match away without offering to light mine. I didnot appear to notice his churlishness, but immediately approached thematter about which I had come.

  "Although I am not a member of the Criminal Investigation Department,"I continued, "I am nevertheless in a sense an agent of Scotland Yard,and I must ask you to listen very seriously to what I have to say. Youhave in your possession a certain gold amulet--"

  He was on his feet in a moment, the patches of skin visible betweenthe strapping assuming a purple color. A more choleric young man I hadnever met.

  "Damn you!" he cried. "What has it to do with you?"

  "Sit down!" I said sternly. "I have given you one warning; I shall notgive you another. You will either answer my questions civilly here andnow or answer them in court, whichever you please. I shall not giveyou another opportunity of choosing. I will repeat my remark: you havein your possession a certain gold amulet in the form, I believe, of acat."

  He was choking and muttering and glaring at me as I spoke, but Istared at him coolly, and finally he resumed his seat and reached outone hand towards a chest-of-drawers which stood beside his chair.Pulling one of the drawers open, he took out a little gold figure ofBast, and holding it towards me:

  "Is this the thing you mean?" he jerked uncivilly.

  "It is," I replied; "allow me to examine it."

  He seemed rather reluctant to do so, but nevertheless I took it fromhis hand and looked at it closely. Beyond doubt it was of AncientEgyptian workmanship and probably a genuine Bubastite votiveoffering. Raising my eyes to him again:

  "Without in any way desiring to pry into your affairs," I said, "woul
dyou be good enough to tell me how this came into your possession?"

  The studied coolness of my manner was having its proper effect, andEdward Hines, although sulkily, replied at once:

  "A woman gave it to me."

  "What was her name?"

  "I don't know."

  "You don't know the name of a woman who gave you a costly trinket ofthis kind?"

  A ridiculous look of vanity appeared in his eyes.

  "Is it very valuable?" he inquired.

  "It may be worth as much as L50," I answered quietly.

  "Really!" said he, with something approaching geniality in his tones."Well, it's an extraordinary thing, but I assure you I don't know hername."

  "Of course," I said, with Machiavellian cunning, "I don't expect youto remember the name of every girl who has loved you, but this is anunusual present to receive even from an infatuated woman."

  "It's an extraordinary thing, isn't it?" repeated Edward Hines, fullof self-esteem. "I can't make out the women at all; they're alwaysgiving me presents. Look at that picture-frame. I got that from a girlI had only seen three times--and it's solid silver," he added.

  I glanced at the memento indicated, and observed that it contained aphotograph of Mr. Hines (without the sticking-plaster).

  "An excellent likeness of yourself, too," I remarked.

  "It's not bad," said he disparagingly; "it was done by one of the bigpeople up in London. The girl paid for it."

  "But even that," I pursued--"even that is not so remarkable a gift asthis valuable piece of jewelry which I hold in my hand."

  "No," said the youth, now restored to the utmost good-humor by myundisguised admiration of his Don Juan-like qualities. "But the factremains that I don't know her name to this day. What did you mean," hecontinued, "when you said that I was concerned in some way in 'the_Oritoga_ mystery'?"

  "I meant," I explained, "that the police are looking for a woman whoanswers to the description of your friend."

  "Really!" he cried. "A tall woman, very fine figure, beautifullydressed?"

  "I think it is probably the same," I said. "Had she any peculiaritiesof appearance or manner by which you would recognize her again?"

  "She had several peculiarities by which I should recognize her," hedeclared, a note of resentment now proclaiming itself in his voice.

  "And they were?"

  Mr. Hines leaned forward, tapping me on the knee confidentially.

  "I met her by accident, you understand," he confided, "on the LondonRoad one evening about sunset set. She asked me the way to Friar'sPark and I could see that I had made an impression at once. It wasjust an excuse to speak to me of course. I offered to walk that farwith her; she agreed, and to cut a long story short--the usual thing,of course; she wanted to meet me again.

  "Well," he resumed complacently, "I met her on the following Thursdayand we became very good friends, you understand, except that shealways seemed particularly anxious to return home before dusk. Allthis time I never knew who she was, or even where she lived, but ofcourse I could see how the land lay. She was some lady from Londonstaying at one of the big houses about here and had to show up fordinner. That night when we parted she gave me this little gold thingand arranged to see me again."

  He paused, knocking ash from his cigar and seemingly reflecting as tohow he should word his next communication; but finally:

  "The third time I saw her," he said, "I managed to arrange that shecould not get in quite so early, you understand; and then--I don'tknow exactly how to tell you. I am not a chap that gets in a panicvery easily; but (I may mention that the scene took place in a wood)she gave me the biggest scare I have ever had in my life."

  He bent forward and again tapped me on the knee.

  "My dear--Mr. Addison, I think you said your name was?--her eyeslighted up in the dark like a cat's!"

  He stared at me with some return of his old truculence as ifanticipating ridicule and prepared to resent it, but I nodded sternly,watching him as if enthralled by his narrative, whereupon:

  "Yes--like a cat's!" he repeated; "and I'll admit I got in a panic. Idon't know if she thought from the way I yelled that I was going toattack her or what, but the next thing I knew she was at my throat."

  He uttered a sort of choking sound, tenderly touched the bandagesabout his neck and fingered the plaster which ornamented his face.

  "At your throat?" said I. "You mean she tried to throttle you?"

  "Throttle me!" he exclaimed scornfully. "She seized me with her_teeth_!"

  "But," I said, and hesitated, for I feared I might wound his curioussusceptibility--"the damage to your face?"

  "Damn her!" he cried. "Damn her! I had never seen her without hergloves, you understand, but she must have taken them off that night;for _this_"--he indicated his plastered countenance--"is what she didwith her nails!"

  He paused, staring at me dully, and then with a hint of the oldridiculous vanity entering his voice:

  "But I scored after all," he said, tossing the little amulet into thedrawer from which he had taken it. "If that's worth L50 it will morethan pay the doctor's bill, I think!"

  Following a brief interval:

  "Of course," I said, "you would recognize the woman again?"

  "I am not so certain," declared the scarred man. "She always wore somesort of veil; but you may be sure," he added in a tone of supremecondescension, "that she was a very pretty woman, or I shouldn't havebeen bothering with her."

  "You are quite sure of that?" I ventured to remark.

  "No doubt about it at all. Most extraordinary eyes--too damnedextraordinary by half!"

  "Well," I said, "I am much indebted to you for your statement, and youmay be confident that it will materially assist the investigation nowin progress."

  "Don't mention it," said Hines, airily. "If I can ever do anythingelse for you, just let me know; but--I mean to say I rely upon you notto bring me into it. You understand what I mean?"

  "You may be absolutely certain," I replied, "that no hint of thisoccurrence will ever be made public so far as I am concerned."

  I took my departure from Leeways Farm fully satisfied with the resultof the first move in the plan of campaign upon which I had decided.Returning to my quarters at the Abbey Inn, I spent the greater part ofthe afternoon in writing a detailed account of my interview withEdward Hines. Having completed this, I set out for the town, as byposting my report there and not in the wayside box at Upper CrossleysI knew that I could count upon its delivery at New Scotland Yard bythe first mail in the morning.

  In leisurely fashion I performed the journey, for my next move couldnot be made until after dusk.