The Woman's Way

  CHAPTER XXIX

  Celia went up to the sick-room. She saw at a glance that the Marquess'scondition had improved; he was, of course, still dangerously ill, andvery weak; but his eyes, as they rested on her, were perfectlyintelligent and he smiled slightly as she bent over him. Then she turnedaway to Doctor Scott and told him of Mr. Clendon's arrival and desire tosee the Marquess.

  "I don't think he can do any harm, if he'll be quiet," said the doctor."At any rate, there is not sufficient reason for refusing to show thepaper to the Marquess."

  Celia knelt beside the bed and conveyed gently Mr. Clendon's request foran interview.

  "Mr. Clendon?" repeated the Marquess, knitting his brows. "I don't knowhim, my dear."

  Then, slowly, she showed him the paper; but he could not read the letteron it and she told him what it was. A flush rose to the white face, andhe nodded once or twice; and it seemed to Celia that the inclination ofthe head had in it something more than a consent to receive the visitor,an indication of some resolution, decision. She went downstairs, andtold Mr. Clendon the Marquess would see him.

  The old man rose, with the aid of a stick, and followed her through thehall; he looked about him, not curiously, but musingly; and he pausedfor a second or two before the portrait of the young man in hunting kit,the Marquess's elder brother; the pause was almost imperceptible, butCelia, remembering the scene between herself and the Marquess on thenight of his arrival, noticed the pause; but the old man's face conveyednothing and was as impassive as usual. She took him to the Marquess'sroom. Lord Sutcombe, at sight of his visitor, tried to rise; but fellback, stretching out his hand, murmuring,

  "Wilfred!" Then he looked at the nurse and doctor. "Will you pleaseleave us alone for a little while. This gentleman is----"

  Mr. Clendon laid his hand upon his brother's arm and stopped him.

  Celia went downstairs, and found Mr. Jacobs standing before the portraitof the Marquess's brother.

  "Fine picture that, Miss Grant," he said. "He must have been a splendidfellow: great pity he died. Oh, yes, I know who it is," he went on,answering the question in Celia's eyes. "I've been making acquaintancewith the family portraits: very fond of pictures; almost as fond as I amof cattle; but as I shan't be able to afford both, why----!"

  At this moment Inspector Brown came hurriedly through the back hall; hewas very hot and wiped the perspiration from his sunburnt face with ared bandana.

  "I've news for you, Mr. Jacobs," he cried, as calmly as he could. "Willyou come into the sitting-room; will you come at once, please: mostimportant!"

  Mr. Jacobs looked at him curiously; then beckoned to Celia.

  "You come too, Miss Grant," he said. "You know shorthand--I saw somescraps of paper in your waste-paper basket. You can take any notes wewant. Splendid thing, shorthand. Wish I could do it. Now then, Mr.Brown!"--as he closed the door.

  "Well, to put it in a word, Mr. Jacobs, _I've got our man_!"

  Mr. Jacobs did not start or show any glad surprise, but looked steadilyat Inspector Smith, and at the same time, seemed to be listening; theycould all hear Lord Heyton pacing up and down the hall.

  "Mind! I don't take any great credit for it, Mr. Jacobs. It was a fluke:just a fluke. I caught him red-handed; found him in the wood with thejewel-case in his hand. Yes, actually in his hand! He must have hiddenit and dug it up."

  Mr. Jacobs nodded, but said nothing.

  "I've got him in the lock-up," said the Inspector, with an air ofsatisfaction which was pardonable in the circumstances. "He went veryquietly--declared his innocence, of course--well, implied it. I've gotnotes of what he said. And I searched him."

  Mr. Jacobs nodded again, and the Inspector drew from his pocket sundryarticles.

  "Not much money on him--there's some loose change and this five-poundnote. Strange to say--a bit curious and suspicious!--he objectedstrongly to my taking the note: said that it was worth more than fivepounds to him; in fact, he declared that he wouldn't part with it forfive thousand and begged me to take care of it and let him change itback for gold." He smiled. Celia flushed hotly, her eyes glowed as theydwelt on the note, and she stifled an exclamation. She listened withparted lips, her breath coming fast. "Something in that, eh, Mr. Jacobs?Then there are some various letters; several of them from a lady inSouth America, invoices and letters about engineering. Seems to havecome from abroad. And here's this packet. It's sealed, as you see; and Ididn't care to open it by myself; thought you and I would open ittogether. May be important evidence, you know."

  Mr. Jacobs took up the packet, turned it over, then placed it on thetable and laid his hand on it.

  "Shouldn't be surprised," he said, quietly. "And so you've got him inthe lock-up? What's his name?"

  "Well, he calls himself 'Sydney Green': an alias, I dare say."

  Mr. Jacobs nodded once more. "Very likely, I should say; very likely.Well, I congratulate you, Inspector. You've done a good morning's work.Bit of a fluke, as you say; but you've been on the close watch, haven'tyou? And there's something more than luck in this. By the way, youdidn't find the two keys--the key of the safe and the key of thejewel-box--on him?"

  "No," said Mr. Brown, easily. "Of course, he's got rid of those; and, inanother hour or two, he'd have got clear off with the jewel-box. I'vegot that locked up in my safe. So far as I can see--of course, you can'ttell--it looks as if the contents had not been disturbed; in fact, as ifwe'd recovered all the missing property."

  "Splendid!" murmured Mr. Jacobs.

  "I suppose you'll go down and see him presently?" said Mr. Brown, almostshowing his impatience and irritation at the detective's phlegmaticcalm. Nothing seemed to move this man.

  "Presently," said Mr. Jacobs, blandly. "There's a knock at the door.Please open it, Miss Grant."

  Celia did so. Mrs. Dexter stood there. She seemed very agitated.

  "Will you please come upstairs, Miss Grant," she said; "and--and, yes,you two gentlemen. Something strange, terrible, has happened."

  Without a word, Mr. Jacobs signed to Celia to lead the way, placing thepacket in his pocket as she did so, and they followed her up to theMarquess's room. He was lying back with his eyes closed; the doctor'shand was on his pulse. Mr. Clendon was seated beside the bed, his handon the Marquess's shoulder. Mr. Clendon looked troubled, but was quitecalm.

  "The Marquess has sent for you that you may hear something he hasresolved to tell you," he said, in a low voice.

  The Marquess opened his eyes and looked round; then they fixedthemselves on Heyton, whom Mrs. Dexter had summoned, and who stoodregarding the group sullenly.

  "Yes," said the Marquess, feebly, but quite distinctly. "I want to tellyou that this is my brother"--his hand reached for Mr. Clendon's--"myelder brother. He is Lord Sutcombe, not I. He disappeared and wassupposed to have died. I knew some months ago that he was alive,but----"

  "Yielding to my earnest entreaty, my command, my brother consented toconceal the fact," said Mr. Clendon, gravely.

  "Yes, but it was wrong, Wilfred; and it was foolish," said the Marquess.His eyes went to his son. "I am sorry, Percy. I believed that he wasdead; but I should have told you the moment I discovered the truth. Yes,I see now that it was my duty to have done so."

  Heyton had stood staring at the two old men dully; his sodden brain didnot realize at first the importance of the avowal; then the blood rushedto his face and he stammered:

  "What's all this? What's the meaning of this cock-and-bull story? I--Idon't understand. You don't suppose I'm going to cave in, accept thisfairytale? I'm your son--I'm the next in succession----"

  "Yes," said the Marquess, with a deep sigh, and a look at his son whichHeyton understood and quailed from. "My brother is not married; you arehis heir--after me."

  "I did not say I was not married, Talbot," said Mr. Clendon, almostinaudibly. "I said that I had no son. But we will not dwell on that. IfI could have had my desire, the truth, my identity, would have beenburied with me."

  "No, no," panted the Marquess;
"even if you had not come to-day, Ishould have told the truth, Wilfred. Would to God I had told it before!"

  "Here, but look here!" Heyton broke out, with a kind of impatientinsolence. "This is all very well. This old man comes here, makes astatement--gets you to make a statement--when, as everybody knows,you're not in your right mind--Oh, I'm not going to accept it!"

  "There are proofs. You know, Wilfred," said the Marquess. "But I cantalk no longer. Leave me with my brother."

  They went, the doctor and nurse only remaining: the Marquess's littlestrength had been sorely tried, and the doctor was watching him closely.With a defiant air, Heyton swaggered down the steps. As he reached thebottom, a hand fell on his shoulder; lightly enough, but Heyton startedand winced.

  "Will you give me a minute or two in the sitting-room, my lord?" saidMr. Jacobs, blandly.

  "Eh, what is it?" said Heyton, with an oath. "What do you want? I don'twant to be bothered just now; got plenty of my own affairs on my mind."

  But he followed the detective. Mr. Jacobs closed the door and stood, onone side of the table, looking at Heyton on the other.

  "Yes, this has been a most upsetting business for you, my lord," hesaid. "You have had, and are having, a most trying time; this is thekind of thing which will break down the strongest man; and I'm about totake the liberty of offering you a word of advice." As he spoke, he tookup a Continental Bradshaw which was lying open on the table. "In casesof your kind, there's nothing like a change of scene and air. You wantto go right away: I mean, a _long_ way.--I've been looking up one or twoplaces where a man could hide himself--I beg your pardon!--I mean,seclude himself without fear of interruption or--interference."

  Heyton stared at him; and as he stared, with a puzzled frown, hisswollen face grew mottled, livid in places, red in others.

  "I don't know what the devil you mean!" he blurted out. "Why should I goanywhere?"

  "For the sake of your health, my lord," said Mr. Jacobs, his innocentblue eyes fixed on Heyton. "You want a change--and at once; in fact, itis absolutely imperative." He leant forward across the table, patted theBradshaw and dropped his voice as he went on incisively, "You can catchthe night mail from Charing Cross. Book straight through by theTrans-Siberian, by way of Moscow and Pekin. When you reach Harbin, goright into the interior. There are mines there--anyhow, you can loseyourself. You understand, my lord?"

  The sweat stood out in great drops on Heyton's face; he tried to meetthe detective's eye with an insolent, indignant stare; but his eyeswavered and fell and he sank into a chair.

  "I--I don't know what you mean?" he stammered thickly.

  "But you will go?" inquired Mr. Jacobs. "In fact, I am sure you will."

  Cur as he was, Heyton made a last stand; he threw up his head, swore avile oath and struck the table.

  "I'm hanged if I do!" he said.

  "You'll be hanged, if you don't, my lord!" said Mr. Jacobs. Then, aftera pause, he said, with a shrug of the shoulders, "I thought you'd havebeen sensible, that you'd have taken my tip without forcing me intoparticulars; but if you must have them--well, Lord Heyton, if you arehere to-morrow morning, I shall arrest you for the robbery of the jewelsand the attempted murder of Lord Sutcombe."

  Heyton sprang to his feet; then sank back again with a hoarse attempt ata laugh.

  "You must be a fool!"

  "Well, one of us is a fool, but it's not me, my lord," said Mr. Jacobs,imperturbably. "I knew the truth ten minutes after I had examined thedressing-room. You see, the burglar who understands his business worksin kid gloves; they leave no finger-prints. There were prints on thedoor of the safe, inside, on the poker--oh, well, everywhere; because,you see, when a man's engaged in this kind of work, he's naturallynervous, his hands are sweaty. And these finger-prints were those of agentleman's hands. Do you want me to go on, Lord Heyton?"

  Heyton could not speak; his tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of hismouth; he felt as if his spine were giving way, as if all his strengthof mind and body were ebbing from him.

  "It's--it's ridiculous!" he stammered.

  "No, my lord, it's quite simple, quite elementary. There were thefinger-prints, on the safe, on the walls, on the poker. I could readthem quite easily with a magnifying glass; and they never lie. 'Pon myword, Lord Heyton!" he broke off musingly, his mouth twisting into asmile, "I'm inclined to think they're the only things in this world onecan rely on. Now, you'll see why I upset the ink over your hand." Hetook the two sheets of paper from his pocket and laid them on the table;and beside them he placed a silver print of the finger-prints in theroom.

  Heyton stared at them as if they were live things that could sting him.

  "Another thing, my lord," said Mr. Jacobs. "I was in the dressing-roomjust after the Marquess recovered consciousness, and heard him chargeyou with the robbery. The evidence is quite conclusive. But there is, ofcourse, what we call collateral proof. I found these two keys under thebed in your dressing-room. Of course, you intended throwing them in thelake, when you went down with the jewel-case; but you dropped the keysand didn't find them; there is always a little hitch like that--_it'sthe hitch in the rope_. I know you took the jewel-case the morning youwent down to bathe, because I traced your footprints into the middle ofthe wood, where you need not have gone, if you had been going merely fora bath. I knew I should find the jewel-case just where you stopped; butI didn't want to discover it. I was waiting for _you_ to go for it,which you would have done presently. Unfortunately for him, another manwas in the wood that morning and saw you; and _he_ went for thejewel-case. The Inspector has arrested him, worse luck. I say 'worseluck,' because now we can't hush up the affair--and, you'll have to_go_."

  Heyton wiped the sweat from his face, his head sank on his breast; hewas in a condition of coma; so stupefied, indeed, that it was only by aneffort he could follow the detective's next words,

  "There is only one other person--well, say, two--who suspect you, LordHeyton. But she will keep her lips shut. She is your wife--fortunatelyfor you."

  He went to the sideboard, poured out some brandy and pushed the glasstowards the wretched man.

  "Drink that, my lord, and pull yourself together," he said, in amatter-of-fact way. "That's right," as Heyton stretched out a shakinghand and poured some of the spirit down his throat and some over hiswaistcoat. "Now, you'll want some money. Oh, I know! You wanted it badlyor you wouldn't have played this idiotic game. In this bag is some gold.When you get to Harbin, you will find some more waiting for you. I'lltake it upon myself to arrange all that. Don't take much luggage: just achange and a tooth-brush. Say you're going to town on business, anybusiness you can think of that requires your immediate presence. And,mind! don't stop on the way; go straight through: you'll find the trainsfit in. I won't add, 'Keep your mouth shut'; you'll do that; unless"--henodded significantly at the empty glass--"you take too much of that.That's rather a weakness of yours, Lord Heyton: master it, or it'llmaster you. Now, there's no time to lose. I'll order a brougham for you.Come, pull yourself together. Man!"--his disgust, impatience broke out,for the first time--"try to think what you're running away from! It's along rope, and it'll take you all your time and wits to get beyond itsreach. And think of the risk I'm running; I'm compounding a felony.I--Harry Jacobs!"

  Heyton rose, clutching at the table, chair; his quivering lips openedand shut; at last he cried hoarsely,

  "Damn you!"

  "That's all right, my lord," said Mr. Jacobs. "I'm glad I've roused yourspirit. Here, pull yourself together--your face is giving you away.Upstairs and pack! The carriage will be waiting."

  He held open the door; and Heyton, with a glance at him which meantmurder, passed out.

  Half an hour later, Celia saw Lord Heyton enter the brougham.

  "Is Lord Heyton going away?" she asked, with surprise, as she saw thefootman place a small portmanteau on the box. She hurried into the hallas she spoke, and it was Mr. Jacobs, who was standing there with Mrs.Dexter, who answered her.

  "Yes, Miss Gran
t," he said. "Lord Heyton has been called away on mostimportant business. Most unfortunate! But there was no help for it."

  He waited until Mrs. Dexter had gone, then, with his eyes fixed onCelia's face, he said to her,

  "Will you please tell the Marquess that Lord Heyton has gone? And youmight say that his return is quite uncertain; in fact--er--he has goneabroad."

  Celia's ingenuous countenance expressed her surprise, which seemed tosatisfy Mr. Jacobs.

  "Now," he said, briskly, "I'm going to see the prisoner, Mr. SydneyGreen." The colour rose to Celia's face; but her eyes met Mr. Jacobs'steadily. "Have you any message for him, Miss Grant?"

  "Yes," said Celia in a low voice and after a pause. "Will you tell him,please, that I will come to him, if--if I am allowed to do so?"

  "You may go and see Mr. Green whenever you please, my dear Miss Grant,"said Mr. Jacobs. As he turned away, he added, "By the way, perhaps you'dlike to know I'm going to take Mr. Clendon with me. I beg his lordship'spardon--I mean, the Marquess."

  Celia looked bewildered for a moment; then she sighed.

  "Yes. I am rather confused. I am glad you are going to take him withyou; very glad."

  "So am I," said Mr. Jacobs, with his bland, innocent smile.