Page 20 of The Red Room

signore."

  I looked straight in the man's face, wondering if he were speaking thetruth. His hard, deep-lined countenance was difficult to read. TheItalian is such a born diplomatist that his face seldom betrays histhoughts. He can smile upon you sweetly, even though behind his back hegrips a dagger ready to strike you to the heart. And so old Antonio'sface was sphinx-like, as all his race.

  "You saw Leonard Langton at Calais," I remarked.

  "He told you that!" gasped the dead man's servant, with a start. "Whatdid he say of me?"

  "Nothing, except what was good. He told me that you were a trustedservant of the Professor."

  "Ah, my poor, dear master!" echoed the man, his face turned thoughtfullyaway towards the afterglow. "If I knew--ah, _Madonna mia_, if I onlyknew the truth!"

  "You suspect Kirk?" I suggested. "Why not tell me more?"

  "I suspect him no more than I suspect others," was his calm reply. "Becertain, signore, that there is much more behind that terrible affairthan you suspect. There was some strong motive for my poor master'sdeath, depend upon it! But," he asked, "where did you meet the SignorLangton?"

  Briefly I related the circumstances of Kirk's presence in the house, hisescape, and the discovery I afterwards made in the laboratory.

  "You actually found the evidences of the crime had been destroyed!"cried the man. Yet my sharp vigilance detected that beneath hissurprise he breathed more freely when I announced the fact that the bodyof the Professor was no longer existent.

  "Yes," I said, after a slight pause, during which my eyes were fixedupon his. "Destroyed--and by Kershaw Kirk, whom I found alone there,with the furnace burning."

  The Italian shook his head blankly. Whether he held suspicion of Kirkor not I was unable to determine. They had been friends. That I wellknew. But to me it appeared as though they had met in secret after thetragedy, and had quarrelled.

  I told the man nothing of my journey to Scotland or of the puzzlingdiscoveries I had made; but in reply to his repeated questioning as towhy I was in Rome I explained that I was in search of my wife, tellinghim of the unaccountable manner in which she had been called away fromLondon by means of the forged telegram.

  "And you say that the signora knew nothing of the affair at SussexPlace?"

  "Nothing, Antonio. It was not a matter to mention to a woman."

  "You suspect Kirk, of course, because his description is very like theman described as being with her in Florence. What motive could he havein enticing her away from you?"

  "A sinister one, without a doubt," I said.

  "But, Antonio, I beg of you to tell me more concerning that man Kirk.You have known him for a long time--eh?"

  "Four years, perhaps. He was a frequent visitor at the Professor's, butyoung Langton hated him. I once overheard Miss Ethelwynn's lovertelling her father some extraordinary story concerning Kirk. But theProfessor declined to listen; he trusted his friend implicitly."

  "And foolishly so," I remarked.

  "Very, for since that I gained knowledge that Kirk, rather than being mymaster's friend, was his bitterest enemy. Miss Ethelwynn was the firstto discover it. She has been devoted to her father ever since the deathof the poor signora."

  "But how do you account for that remarkable occurrence behind thoselocked doors?" I asked, as we stood there in the corner, with the gaychatter of the society of Rome about us; an incongruous situation,surely. "What is your theory?"

  "Ah, signore, I have none," he declared emphatically. "How can I have?It is a complete mystery."

  "Yes; one equally extraordinary is the fact that Miss Ethelwynn, who wasseen by us dead and cold, is yet still alive."

  "Alive!" he gasped, with a quick start which showed me that his surprisewas genuine. "I--I really cannot believe you, Signor Holford! Whatproof have you? Why, both you and Kirk declared that she was dead!"

  "The proof I have is quite conclusive. Leonard Langton spoke to her onthe telephone to Broadstairs, and he is now down there with her."

  "Impossible, signore!" declared the man, shaking his head dubiously.

  "When did you last see her?"

  "She was lying on the couch in the diningroom, as you saw, but at Kirk'sorders she was removed from the house in a four-wheeled cab. Iexplained to the cabman that she was unwell, as she had unfortunatelytaken too much wine. Some man--a friend of Kirk's--went with her."

  "And what was their destination?" I demanded.

  "Ah, signore, I do not know."

  "Now, Antonio, please do not lie," I said reproachfully. "You knowquite well that your master's daughter was removed to a certain house inFoley Street, Tottenham Court Road."

  "Why," he exclaimed, turning slightly pale, and staring at me, "how didyou know that?"

  I laughed, refusing to satisfy his curiosity. In his excitement hisaccent had become more marked.

  "Well," he said at last, "what does it matter if the signorina is stillalive, as you say? For my own part, I refuse to believe it until I seeher in the flesh with my own eyes."

  "Well," I remarked, "all this is beside the mark, Antonio. I haveunderstood from everyone that you were the devoted and trusted servantof Professor Greer, therefore you surely, as a man of honour, shouldendeavour to assist in clearing up the mystery, and bringing the realassassin to justice."

  The man sighed, saying:

  "I fear, signore, that will never be accomplished. The mystery hasramifications so wide that one cannot untangle its threads. But," headded, after a slight pause, "would you object to telling me how youfirst became acquainted with Signor Kirk?"

  Deeming it best to humour this man, who undoubtedly possessed certainsecret knowledge, I briefly described the means by which Kirk had soughtmy friendship. And as I did so, I could see the slight smile at thecorner of his tightened lips, a smile of satisfaction, it seemed, at theingenious manner in which I had been misled by his friend.

  "Then he brought you to Sussex Place on purpose to show you the deadbody of my master?"

  "He did. I had no desire to be mixed up in any such affair, only hebegged me to stand his friend, at the same time protesting hisinnocence."

  "His innocence!" exclaimed the Italian fiercely between his clenchedteeth.

  "You believe him guilty, then?" I cried, quick to notice his lapse ofattitude.

  "Ah, no, signore," he responded, recovering himself the next second, abland smile overspreading his dark, complex countenance. "Youmisunderstand me; I suspect nobody."

  "But you had a more intimate knowledge of the household, and of theProfessor's friends, than anyone else. Therefore you, surely, have yourown suspicions?"

  "No; until one point of the mystery, which has apparently never occurredto you, has been cleared up, both you and I can only remain inignorance, as we are at present."

  "Why not be quite frank with me, Antonio?" I urged. "I do not believeyou are your master's assassin; I will never believe that! But you arenot open with me. Put yourself in my place. I have been entrapped byKirk into a network of mystery and tragedy, and have lost my wife, who,I fear, is in the hands of conspirators. I have not been to the police,because Kirk urged me not to seek their aid. So--"

  "No, signore," he interrupted quickly, "do not tell the police anything.It would be injudicious--fatal!"

  "Ah!" I cried, "then you are acting in conjunction with Kirk? You,too, are trying to mislead me!"

  "I am not, signore," he protested. "On the tomb of my mother," hedeclared, making use of the common Italian oath, "I am only acting inyour interests. The disappearance of your signora adds mystery to theaffair."

  "What do you suggest as my next move? If I find Mabel, I care nothing.The tragic affair may remain a mystery for ever. I leave it to othersto discover who killed Professor Greer."

  "You actually mean that, signore?" he cried. "You would really refrainfrom seeking further, providing you rediscover your wife?"

  I was silent a few seconds. His eagerness was sufficient admission
of aguilty conscience.

  "Yes," I said. "What matter the affairs of others, so long as the wifeI love is innocent and at my side? She is the victim of a plot fromwhich I must rescue her."

  The Italian gazed again away across the roofs of the Eternal City, nowgrowing more indistinct in the gathering mists.

  "I fear, Signor Holford," he at last exclaimed with a sigh, "that youhave a very difficult task before you. You are evidently in ignoranceof certain curious facts."

  "Concerning