*CHAPTER XV*
*CARRIES THE MYSTERY FARTHER*
On Monday, according to a previous arrangement, both Gerald and Marigoldobtained leave of absence for the afternoon from their respectiveprincipals, and after lunching together as usual, went on the top of anomnibus to Kew, where they walked for an hour in the celebrated gardens.Then they went to Hammersmith to take tea with Mrs. Felmore. The deafold woman welcomed them warmly, and they sat together in the kitchen,though Gerald could not talk with Marigold's aunt.
The girl, who could speak with her aunt with ease, put to her severalquestions concerning Mr. Boyne's movements, but learned nothing unusual.She feared to tell the old woman of that uncanny disguise which headopted when he visited that locked room upstairs, or of that weird, butcertainly human cry which she had heard above.
Personally, Gerald suspected the cry to be the result of her vividimagination. The theory that somebody was imprisoned in that upstairsroom was fantastic, but highly improbable, therefore he had dismissedit. Yet presently the old woman made one remark which struck him ascurious. In the course of conversation Mrs. Felmore said:
"Poor Mr. Boyne! He does all the good in the world that he can. Onlyyesterday I found hidden in one of the cupboards in his bedroom a wholelot of tinned stuff--tongues, fruit, jam, biscuits--a host of thingsthat he's got up there on the quiet. I asked him what he was hoardingthem up for, and he said that he was sending a big parcel of groceriesto a poor widow he knew at Notting Hill Gate."
"Curious to have a store of tinned stuff in his bedroom!" remarkedGerald, at once recollecting the suggestion that somebody might be inhiding upstairs.
"Yes, sir," replied the old woman. "But Mr. Boyne is very eccentricsometimes--very eccentric!"
"In what way?" he asked eagerly.
"Oh! he gets up in the middle of the night and goes up and downstairs--I often see the light under my bedroom door."
Marigold and her lover exchanged glances.
"I wonder what he does?" asked the girl.
"Ah! That I can't say," was the old housekeeper's response. "I askedhim one day not long ago, and he simply told me he had woke up, and ashe couldn't go to sleep again, he went down to do his accounts."
"Well, this store of food shows him to be of a philanthropic turn ofmind," remarked Gerald, with a smile. And then, disregarding the factthat Boyne might return at any moment, he succeeded in getting Mrs.Felmore's permission to slip upstairs and view the collection ofpreserved foods which was going to the poor widow.
Marigold quickly found it stored in the bottom of a cupboard, covered byan old overcoat and some worn-out shirts, which had apparently beenflung in at haphazard.
Gerald's quick glance saw something which further aroused hiscuriosity--a small brand-new tin tea-kettle and a little enamelledbasin. With them was a new roll of absorbent cotton-wool and a quartbottle of cheap port wine, which from its label had been purchased of alocal grocer.
"Funny that he should send her a tea-kettle and basin!" remarkedDurrant, as he handled them. "And look! What's this?" And he took outa small wooden box about three inches square, such as is used byjewellers to send watches by post. He opened it and within, carefullypacked in cotton wool, was a small lens surrounded by a threaded brassring evidently a portion of some optical instrument.
"Part of a telescope!" the girl exclaimed. "Surely a widow would notrequire that--however poor she might be!"
"Yes, dear," said her lover, holding the box in his hand and reflecting."This is a curious hoard, and I am wondering if it is intended for theunknown person who is living in seclusion above."
"Well, Mr. Boyne's explanation to auntie is quite clever, if what yousuggest is the solution of the mystery."
"But is not Boyne always clever?" he asked. "That he is leading a doublelife we have already established. It is now for us to solve the problemof the reason of this locked room upstairs."
"Then you think this has been bought in order to feed somebody who isliving up above in silence and seclusion?" she asked.
"It seems like it. But if we watch carefully and see in which directionit disappears, whether inside this house or outside, then we shall beginto penetrate the mystery."
"But how shall we do it?"
"This requires very careful consideration, dear," was his reply. "Myown feeling is that you should by some means or other endeavour to spendthe next few days here with your aunt, so that you can keep daily watchupon this strange collection of provisions. But we mustn't remain here,for Boyne may return at any moment."
So they descended the stairs to the kitchen, and hardly had they reachedit when the heavy tread of the man of mystery was heard in the hallabove.
While Mrs. Felmore was upstairs interviewing her employer as to what herequired for tea, the lovers held hurried consultation.
When the old woman returned, Gerald rose and motioned to her that heintended to go as perhaps Mr. Boyne would not like to discover himthere. He placed his finger upon his lips, shook hands with the deafhousekeeper, and stole out and up the area steps, keeping well out ofsight of Boyne's window.
"Mr. Durrant was in a hurry, eh?" asked the old woman.
"Yes, auntie. He was afraid that Mr. Boyne might not like him callinghere, so he's gone. But I'm here, and--well, to tell you the truth,auntie, I don't exactly know what to do!"
"Do--why?" asked the old woman, her eyes starting as was her habit whensurprised.
"I'm at a loose end, auntie. They want my room over at Wimbledon--butonly for a week. Hetty and Jack have come home from their music-hallengagement in Paris, and they've asked me to give up my room for a week.So I've no place to sleep. I've been wondering if Mr. Boyne would mindme coming here. Do you think he'd object?"
"No, I'm sure he wouldn't mind, dear!" she declared. "I'll ask himnow--when I go up. He's often inquiring after you."
So when she took up her master's tea a quarter of an hour later, shesaid:
"Marigold's downstairs, sir. She's in a bit of trouble, sir."
"Trouble! Why?" asked Boyne sharply. "What's the matter? Has she leftthe bank?"
"Oh, no, sir. It's only because she's turned out of her room atWimbledon for a week for her brother-in-law and his wife, so she wantsto come here and stay with me. Would you have any objection?"
"Of course not, Mrs. Felmore. Tell her to come up and see me now."
Then, when the old woman had gone, his genial attitude instantlychanged.
"So the girl wants to come here--does she? Yes, she shall come. Oh,yes!" he growled grimly. "She and that fellow are playing a very prettygame. But I shall win, never fear!"
A moment later Marigold entered the room, saying:
"It's awfully good of you, Mr. Boyne, to put me up again! I fear I'm aterrible nuisance, but I was in such a difficulty that I came to auntie,and asked her if she knew of anyone who could give me a room. She thensaid that she thought you might allow me to stay here."
"My dear Miss Marigold," he said quite genially, "you are welcome tostay with your aunt. I've told you so over and over again, haven't I?How are you getting on at the bank?"
"Oh, quite well, thanks! It is rather monotonous--figures always--butstill it's better than at that motor dealer's where I was before.People who deal in motor cars have no conscience, and are, I believe,the biggest liars on earth."
Boyne laughed. He had an appreciation for the smart young lady clerk,whose quick wit and ready repartee always appealed to him. But two daysbefore he had made a discovery which had aroused his suspicions.
It was, however, arranged that Marigold should occupy the same roomwhich she had had when taken suddenly ill a short time before, and Boyneadded:
"Just do as you like, my girl. I have a great regard for your aunt, asyou know, and you are quite welcome here, I assure you."
The girl, believing that he was unsuspicious, thanked him and, leavingthe room, descended to the kitchen, where
she told her aunt all that hadtranspired.
Personally she liked Mr. Boyne. It was only the discovery of that weirddisguise of his that had aroused her curiosity, which, indeed, was butnatural.
She left the house half an hour later and travelled to Wimbledon Park,returning with her leather blouse case containing a few necessaries.
Eight o'clock had struck ere she arrived at Bridge Place. At the cornerof the street Gerald confronted her. He had kept watchful vigil uponthe house to see whether Boyne had brought out any parcel for the poorwidow. But the man of mystery had not come forth.
She told her lover with enthusiasm how Boyne had invited her to staythere, and promised to keep a watchful eye upon things.
"Excellent, dear," Gerald declared. "You go in, and I'll still remainhere, and follow him if he goes out to spend the evening."
"Be careful that he doesn't notice you," she urged. "He has awfullyquick eyesight."
"I know that. He very nearly spotted me the other day. In fact, I wasafraid that he had."
"I see you've got a cap on," she laughed. "Where is your hat?"
"I've left it in a shop in the Broadway to be renovated and ironed, andI bought this cap to wear meanwhile. Does it make any difference?"
"Certainly it does. And you've got a new jacket, too."
"The same. I bought it at a reach-me-down shop in King Street an hourago, and left my own there. Does it fit?"
"Not very well around the collar, but nobody would really notice it,"she declared.
Gerald Durrant was both shrewd and determined. When he set his mind upona thing, he carried it through at all costs. He intended to penetratethe veil of mystery which enveloped this good go-to-meeting collector ofinsurance premiums.
"Well," he said at last. "Be watchful, and be careful, dear, that youdon't arouse his suspicion. He's a mystery, and all men of his calibreare ultra-suspicious, and masters in the art of concealing their ownfeelings."
"Don't fear, Gerry," she laughed. "I shall be as clever as he is. Youdo your watching outside, and I'll do mine within. I shall probablytelegraph to Mr. Kenyon to-morrow and make excuse that I'm ill. Then Ishall have a day in the house to examine things a little more closely."
"That's a good idea! Watch those things in his bedroom--that tea-kettleand the other things. Find out when they go--and where," were hisparting injunctions.
Five minutes later Marigold went down the area steps into the kitchen,where her aunt was cooking Mr. Boyne's succulent steak.
"He says he's very hungry to-day--hasn't had any lunch, so I went outand got him this!" exclaimed the old woman. "If he eats it all, then heought to do well, eh?" she remarked, in her somewhat high-pitched andrasping voice.
"Yes. I suppose he'll go out afterwards," said Marigold.
"He said he'd got to go out at nine--to a meeting somewhere," was heraunt's reply. Therefore her niece took from her bag a postcard,scribbled something upon it, and in pretence of going to the post shewent out to Gerald and told him what she had learned.
This afforded Durrant time to go along to the "Clarendon" for dinner anda rest before resuming his patient observations.
On her return, Marigold put on an apron and helped her aunt. Indeed,she carried up the tray into Mr. Boyne's room.
"Ah! I see I've got a new parlour-maid, eh?" he laughed merrily. "Andan unusually smart one, too!"
Marigold laughed, and set the table, saying:
"Well, I thought I'd just give auntie a hand, Mr. Boyne. Half an hourago she complained that her leg hurt, because of the stairs, so Ithought I'd help her."
"Very good of you," he said, lounging in the frayed old arm-chair in hisshirt-sleeves, a different figure indeed from that he so often presentedat night in the West End. There, in the smart restaurants and intheatres, he wore his evening suit and nodded acquaintance with manywell-known people, who little suspected his obscure abode.
Marigold waited upon him as though she were a waitress instead of aledger clerk, but he was reading the evening paper as he ate his meal,and spoke but little more.
"Yes, you're a pretty miss, you are!" he growled to himself after shehad left the room. "If you don't mind you'll be very sorry that youentered my house."
At a quarter to nine, having washed and changed into a rather seedy suitof blue serge, he went out. Marigold heard him bang the door, and knewthat Gerald was on the alert outside.
The evening passed quietly until at ten Mrs. Felmore went to bed, andher niece also retired. She bade her aunt good-night, went into thespare room and closed the door.
She shook out her thin summer dressing-gown, and placed it upon the railof the narrow bed. Then she reopened the door and stood listening onthe stairs, her ears strained to catch any noise from the locked room onthe next landing of the frowsy old house.
No sound reached her ears, save the noise her aunt made moving about inher room. Downstairs the cheap old clock in Boyne's sitting-room tickedloudly and suddenly struck the half-hour. Beyond that all was silent.
Marigold, after a long vigil, at last turned off the gas and, throwingherself on the bed, dressed as she was, soon fell asleep.
Meanwhile Boyne re-entered the house noiselessly and, taking off hisshoes, crept in silence up the stairs to her door. He listened, andcould hear by her deep, regular breathing that she was asleep.
Slowly he turned the handle of the door--which he had purposely oiledbefore going out--and, flashing a pocket-torch to the ceiling, saw herlying there, still dressed!
Without a sound he withdrew and crept back down the stairs.
"I thought so, young lady!" he muttered to himself, when he was back inhis sitting-room. "You don't know much--neither does your young man!But I must take steps for my own protection, that I can see!"
He stood with his back to the fireplace, his eyes staring at thesideboard in front of him for some moments. Nibby was scuttling aboutin the cupboard, so he let him out and the little rodent sniffed hishand.
"I wonder what makes the girl so inquisitive?" he thought. "Surely theold woman knows nothing! If she does, then she would, of course, confidein her niece, who, in turn, would tell this young fellow Durrant."
The lovers were unaware that Boyne had been making the most carefulinquiries concerning both of them, for the instant he realised that hewas being watched, he had laid certain diabolical plans by which totriumph.
"It's their lives--_or mine_!" he whispered to himself, with a strangehard look in his eyes. "I can't afford to be watched by suchinquisitive folk. I was a fool not to take Lilla's advice concerningthis girl."
He walked across to the sideboard and poured himself out a liqueur-glassfull of brandy, which he tossed off at a single gulp.
"I'll test her and see what happens," he said aloud, with a chuckle.Then, slipping on his shoes and going to the front door, he opened it,and, having banged it, walked heavily back along the passage to theroom.
The noise awakened Marigold, who, all unconscious that Boyne had seenher there, instantly jumped up and listened.
She heard footsteps on the stairs and saw a passing light beneath herdoor.
She heard him ascend the next flight of stairs towards the locked room,and then carefully opening her door, peered out after him.
Suddenly he turned and descended, as though he had forgotten something,but his quick eye, as he flashed his lamp upon her door, detected thatit was noiselessly closing.
In pretence of ignorance he passed down to his own room, and enteringit, closed the door heavily.
"Yes," he whispered to himself. "Ah! I was not mistaken! The girl ishere in my house to spy upon me! She's dangerous--just as dangerous asthe man. And in my game I allow no enemies to confront me!"
Then, laughing grimly, he clenched his bony fists and set his teeth.
Afterwards he retired to bed, leaving the girl listening attentively tonoises he purposely made.