CHAPTER III
THE BACK-DOOR OF ENGLAND
"Well, that's rather curious," I remarked, closing the door of the oldoak-panelled smoking-room at Metfield Park, and returning to where myfriend Ray Raymond was seated.
"Was anyone outside the door?" he asked, quickly on the alert.
"Mrs. Hill-Mason's German maid. You remember, Vera pointed her outyesterday."
"H'm! and she was listening--after every one else has gone to bed!" heremarked. "Yes, Jack, it's curious."
It was past one o'clock in the morning. Two months had passed since theaffair down at Portsmouth, but we had not been inactive. We were sittingbefore the great open fireplace where the logs were blazing, after therest of the men had taken their candles and retired, and had beenexchanging confidences in ignorance of the fact that the door remainedajar. I had, however, detected the _frou-frou_ of a woman's skirt, andcreeping across to the door had seen the maid of one of the guestsdisappearing down the stone passage which led to the great hall now indarkness.
Metfield Park, three miles from Melton Constable, in Norfolk, the seatof the Jocelyns, was a fine old Tudor place in the centre of a splendidpark, where the pheasant shooting was always excellent. Harry Jocelyn,the heir, had been with us at Balliol, hence Ray and I usually receivedinvitations to the shooting parties. On this occasion, however, VeraVallance with her aunt, Mrs. Mortimer, had been invited, much to Ray'ssatisfaction.
Among the party was a well-known naval officer, captain of a first-classcruiser, two military officers, and several smart women, for both SirHerbert and Lady Jocelyn moved in a very smart set. Several of theladies had joined us in the smoking-room for cigarettes, and theconversation around the fire had been mainly the usual society chatter,until at one o'clock every one had left for bed except our two selves.
Over the great fireplace were the arms of the Jocelyns carved in stone,with the date 1573, and in the corner near the window was a stand ofarmour upon which the dancing flames glinted ever and anon. Through thelong uncurtained window shone the bright moon from over the park, andjust as I reseated myself the stable clock chimed the half-hour.
We had been there four days, and the sport had been excellent. On theprevious day Ray had excused himself on account of the bad weather, andhad spent the hours mostly with Vera.
It was of how he had employed his time that he had been telling me whenI had discovered the eavesdropper.
"I wonder why our conversation should prove so interesting to thatmaid?" he remarked thoughtfully, gazing into the fire. "She's rathergood-looking for a German, isn't she?"
"Yes," I said. "But who is this Mrs. Hill-Mason? She seems a rather loudand buxom person, fond of the display of jewellery, dark, somewhatoleaginous, and devoted to bridge."
"Harry says his mother met her in Cairo last winter. She's one of theSomerset Masons--half-sister to the Countess of Thanet."
"Oh, she is known, then?"
"Of course. But we must get Vera to make some inquiry to-morrow as towhere she obtained her maid," declared Ray. "The woman is interested inus, and we must discover the cause."
"Yes, I somehow mistrust her," I said. "I met her crossing the hall justbefore dinner, and I detected a curious look in her eyes as she glancedat me."
"Merely your fancy, Jack, old chap--because she's German," he laughed,stretching his long legs.
"Well, what you were telling me about Vera and her discovery has alarmedme," I said, tossing away the end of my cigar.
"Yes, she only returned last week from Emden, where she's been visitingher old German governess, who, it seems, is now married to an officialin the construction department of the German Admiralty. From her friendshe was able to learn a lot, which will, no doubt, cause our Lords ofthe Admiralty a bad quarter of an hour."