The Pauper of Park Lane
spring.
Standing below, he could not obtain sight of the old fellow as he openedthe door, and to follow him half-way up was too dangerous a proceeding.He had risked a good deal, but he dare not risk the old man's wrath inthat.
Still that he passed the door quickly and without hindrance was plainlyshown. He had a key secreted somewhere--a key which, when applied,turned quickly, with ease and without noise, to admit the owner of thegreat mansion to the apartments where his secret was so successfullyhidden.
Sometimes he would descend pale, haggard, and agitated, his hand uponhis heart, as though to recover his breath. At others he was flushedand angry, like a man who had a moment before taken part in a heateddiscussion which had ended in a serious difference.
Charlie watched all this, and wondered.
What secret could possibly be hidden in those upper storeys that were attimes so brilliantly lit?
Each evening he called on Max at Dover Street, and with closed door, sothat the man should not hear, they discussed the situation.
Of Jean Adam nothing further had been seen. Neither had the hunchbackengineer, Leonard Lyle, been at all it evidence. Ever since Max hadgiven the Frenchman his decision not to go to Constantinople Adam hadheld aloof from him. They had parted perfectly good friends, but Maxcould detect the bitter chagrin that his reply had caused.
One evening as the two sat together Charlie related his curiousexperience of the short, dark, good-looking girl who had met him inParis and talked so strangely of Maud in the Tuileries Gardens.
Max sat smoking his cigar listening to every word.
"Curious--very curious!" he ejaculated. "Didn't she tall you her name?"
"She gave it as Lorena."
"Lorena!" gasped the other, starting up. "Lorena--why, it must havebeen Lorena Lyle--old Lyle's daughter?"
"His daughter! I never knew he had one."
"No; perhaps not. He doesn't often speak of her, I believe. I saw heronce, not long ago."
"They have quarrelled--father and daughter!" exclaimed Rolfe. "And thataccounts for her exposure of the plot against Statham to compel him tocommit suicide rather than to face exposure. Remember, she would notbetray who was Adam's associate in the matter. Because it is her ownfather, without a doubt."
"She alleged that Statham committed a secret crime, by which he laid thefoundation of his great fortune," Max remembered. "And, further, thatconfirmation of the charge brought by Adam will be found beyond thatlocked door?"
"Yes," said his companion, in a hollow voice; "I see it all. The girlwishes to exclude her father from the business. Yet she knows more thanshe has told me."
"No doubt. She probably knew Maud also, for she has lived for years--indeed, nearly all her life--in Belgrade," Barclay remarked. "Shequarrelled with her father, and went on the stage as a dancer in theOpera at Vienna. She is now in Paris in the same capacity. If Iremember aright she was here at Covent Garden last season. They say shehas great talent and that she's now being trained in Paris for the partof _premiere danseuse_."
"She alleged that there still live two witnesses of Statham's crime,whatever it was," Charlie went on.
"And they are probably Adam and her hunchback father--both men who havelived the life of the wilds beyond the fringe of civilisation--both menwho are as unscrupulous as they are adventurous."
"But from all I knew of Lyle he was a most highly respectable person.In Belgrade they still speak of him with greatest respect."
"Leonard Lyle in Belgrade, my dear chap, may have been a very differentperson to Leonard Lyle in other countries, you know," was his friend'sreply.
"But why has his daughter given me this warning, at the same time takingcare to conceal her identity."
"She was a short, dark-haired girl, rather good-looking, except that hertop teeth protruded a little; about nineteen or so--eh?"
"Exactly."
"And depend upon it that she has warned you at Maud's request, in orderthat you may be forearmed against the blow which the pair are going tostrike."
"And which we--you and I, Max--are going to assist--eh?" added theother, grimly.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX.
TO LEARN THE TRUTH.
The mystery by which old Sam Statham sometimes passed beyond thatwhite-enamelled door was inexplicable.
Whenever he left the library to ascend the stairs, Charlie Rolfe stolequietly out behind him, and listened. Sometimes he distinctly heard thekey in the lock; at others it sounded as though the closed door yieldedto his touch and swung aside for him to pass beyond. It closed alwayswith a thud, as though felt had been placed upon it to prevent anymetallic clang.
While Charlie watched the great financier's every movement, Max wasunceasing in his inquiries regarding Marion. Advertisements had Menpublished in the "personal" columns of various newspapers, and theprivate inquiry agents whose aid he had sought had been unremitting intheir vigilance.
The whole affair from beginning to end now showed the existence of somepowerful hand which had directed and rendered the mystery beyondsolution. The strange re-appearance of Jean Adam and Leonard Lyle hadbeen followed quickly by the extraordinary flight of Doctor Petrovitchand Maud. The latter had only an hour before she had disappeared intospace made some remarkable confession to Marion--a confession whichmight or might not save Samuel Statham from an ignominious death.
But the girl had preserved the secret of the confession confided to herby her friend, and, preferring shame and misjudgment, she in turn haddisappeared, whither no one knew.
The two men, brother and lover, who had now united their forces to solvethe problem and at the same time ascertain for themselves what thesecret of the house in Park Lane really was, were at their wits' ends.Their inquiries and their efforts always led them into a _cul-de-sac_.At every turn they seemed foiled and baffled. And was it surprisingwhen it was considered the power of Samuel Statham and the means at hiscommand for the preservation of a secret?
Charlie felt that he was being watched hourly by one or other of thosespies who sometimes gave such valuable information to the head of thefirm. Some of these secret agents of Statham he knew by sight, butthere were others unseen and unknown.
Even though Max and his friend were able to enter unheard and secretethemselves before the place was locked up by old Levi, yet there wasthat white door barring their passage to the mystery beyond. Many timesthey discussed the possibilities, and each time hesitated. Charlie wassorely puzzled regarding the key of the iron door. Sometimes it wasundoubtedly used, sometimes not.
At last one evening, after both men had dined at the St James's, ofwhich Max was a member, they resolved upon a bold move. Charliesuggested it, and the other was at once ready and eager.
So after Max had been round to his rooms to put on a suit of darktweeds, he went to Charlie's chambers where the various implements wereproduced and laid upon the table. It was then nearly ten o'clock.
Rolfe, having sent Green to the other end of Jermyn Street out of theway, drew out the whisky decanter from the tantalus stand, poured outtwo "pegs" with soda, and drank:
"Success to the elucidation of old Statham's secret."
Then, carefully stowing the various articles in their pockets, theyslipped down into the street and were out of sight before theinquisitive Green had returned.
Arrived in Park Lane, after a hasty walk, they strolled slowly along bythe park railings past the house. All was in darkness save the hall,where the electric lamp showed above the fanlight. Old Sam was probablyin his study, smoking his last cigar, for the shutters were that nightclosed, as they sometimes were. The shutters of the basement were alsoclosed behind their iron bars, while at the upstairs windows all theblinds were carefully drawn.
Indeed, the exterior of the house presented nothing unusual. It was thesame as any other mansion in Park Lane. Yet there were many who ongoing up and down the thoroughfare afoot or on the motor-'buses jerkedtheir thumbs at it and whispered. The house had earned a reputati
on formystery. Sam Statham was a mystery in himself, and of his house manyweird things were alleged.
Thrice the pair passed and repassed. At the corner of Deanery Streetstood a constable, and while he remained there it was injudicious toattempt an entry with a latchkey. So they strolled back in thedirection of the fountain, conversing in undertones.
Max glanced at his watch, and found that it wanted a quarter to eleven.At last they crossed the road and passed the door. All seemed quiet.At that moment the only object in sight was a receding motor-'busshowing its red tail-light. Not a soul was on the pavement.
"All clear!" cried Charlie, scarce above a whisper, as he slipped up thetwo or three steps, followed by his companion.
That moment was an exciting one. Next second, however, the key was inthe latch, and without a sound the