An Eye for an Eye

eagerly read it. It was abrief note to say that her mother had been called away to her brother inInverness, who was seriously ill, that The Hollies was closed, and thatshe had accepted an invitation to remain the guest of the Blains untilLady Glaslyn's return.

  I handed the note to the detective without comment.

  "Well," he exclaimed, looking up at me when he had read it, "there'snothing very fishy about that, is there?"

  Then I recollected that he was in ignorance of my suspicions. Yet Iloved Eva with all my soul and held back from placing any facts in thehands of this man who, with ruthless disregard for my affection or myfeelings, would perhaps arrest her for complicity in the crime. And yetas I sat before him, watching his face through the blue haze ofcigarette smoke, I felt impelled to seek his aid, for this tangled chainof recent events had utterly bewildered and unnerved me. I was not yetstrong again after the strange seizure which had so puzzled the doctor,and a sense of gloom and despair had since overwhelmed me, arisingperhaps from the constant suspicion that a secret attempt had been madeupon my life.

  To remain longer in that state of uncertainty was impossible. I felt Ishould go mad if I did not make some further determined effort toascertain the truth. Some one, whom I knew not, had attempted to killme. And why? There could be but one reason. Because I had succeededin placing myself upon the actual track of the assassin. An attempt,cowardly and dastardly, had been made upon me, therefore I had everyright to seek the aid of the police to discover its author.

  This argument decided me, and casting my cigarette into the grate, Iasked Boyd to give me his attention while I related to him all that Ihad discovered.

  In an instant his free-and-easy manner changed, and as I spoke he satleaning towards me, attentively listening to every word, but hazardingno remark. Without attempting to conceal anything, I explained to himfirst of all my great love for the woman who was under such terriblesuspicion, and then as I narrated our conversation when alone on theriver, and repeated her curious response to my declaration of love, heknit his dark brows seriously and gave vent to a grunt indicative ofdoubt. He was no blunderer, this detective. Unlike the majority he waswell-educated, speaking French and Italian fluently, an adept in the artof disguise, a man who formed very careful theories, and whoseappearance was never that of an agent of police. One would rather havetaken him for a well-to-do Jew, or perhaps some prosperous City man offoreign extraction, for his dark complexion and aquiline features gavehim an un-English appearance, and his invariable spruceness in dressaccounted for his success in following criminals, who never dreamed thatthe smart, well-dressed gentleman of perfect manner was actually anemissary from Scotland Yard. His knowledge of foreign languages hadcaused him to be entrusted with numbers of very important inquiriespolitical and criminal, and in tracking the guilty he had paid flyingvisits to nearly all the Continental capitals.

  In his sharp eyes there was a strange glitter, I thought, as withoutinterruption I told him what I knew. I advanced no theories whatever,but merely laid before him the plain unvarnished truth. Then, when Ihad finished, I said--

  "Now, first of all, recollect that whatever may be the result of ourinquiries I will do no harm whatever to the woman I love. Understandthat entirely."

  "I quite understand," he said gravely, speaking for the first time."That's only natural. But the difficulties in our way appear almostinsurmountable."

  "Well?" I asked anxiously, "what is your opinion, now that I have toldyou everything?"

  He shook his head, puffed thoughtfully at the fresh cigarette he hadjust lit, and then contemplated it thoughtfully.

  "I have no opinion at present," he responded. "One might form half adozen theories upon these facts, all equally wide of the mark."

  "Then how are we to act?" I asked in dismay.

  He raised his dark eyebrow's in gesture of bewilderment. Then he gazedgravely in my face.

  "Look here, Boyd," I continued, "I love Eva Glaslyn, and to you I makeno secret of it whatsoever. But at all hazards I mean to ascertain thetruth."

  "Even at the risk of convicting her?" he inquired, looking across at mequickly.

  "Convicting her!" I echoed. "Then you really entertain the samesuspicion as myself?"

  "We may have suspicions without forming any theories," he respondedcalmly. Then he added, in a tone of regret, "It's certainly a thousandpities that you love her."

  "Why?"

  "Upon your own showing she appears to have very little regard for you."

  "How?"

  "Well," he answered slowly, "there's no doubt that the other day anattempt was made upon your life."

  "And you suspect her?"

  "We can suspect no one else," he answered.

  "According to that old herbalist's statement she had purchased a certaindrug of him. What could an innocent young lady require with thisunnamed drug if not to administer it to some one she wanted to get ridof?"

  "But she has no object in ridding herself of me," I urged.

  "Of that I'm not quite so sure, my dear fellow," he observed, after abrief pause. "Recollect that on the morning when she went to St.James's Park in order to meet, for some mysterious purpose, the man whomwe now know was old Mr. Blain, she met you face to face. We have noidea what her actions were previously, but she may have believed thatyou had been spying upon her; therefore, on recognising you when youwere formally introduced at Riverdene, she conceived a plan for gettingyou out of the way. It was with that object very possibly that she madethe secret purchase at the herbalist's."

  "No, Boyd, I can't believe it of her," I said quickly. "I won't believeit!"

  "Very well," he said in the same calm tone as before. "But there'sstill another fact extremely puzzling, and that is why this man Lowryshould have left in such a hurry. I must inquire at the Carter StreetPolice-Station, the district wherein he lived, and see whether there wasanything against him. By the way," he added, "does your friend Cleughknow the whole of these facts you've explained to me?"

  "No, not the whole--only some."

  "Does he know that you've declared your love to Lady Glaslyn's daughterand been refused?"

  "No."

  "Then don't tell him," said the detective.

  "I believe that the reason of his sudden weariness of Lily Lowry'ssociety is due to the fact that he loves Mary Blain."

  "All the more reason, then, why he should in future remain in entireignorance of whatever facts we may elicit."

  Then he paused, furiously consuming his cigarette and taking a longdraught of the whisky-and-soda I had mixed and placed at his elbow.

  "This is really a most remarkable mystery, Urwin," he exclaimed atlength, twisting the plain gold ring upon his finger, a habit of hiswhen pondering deeply. "There seem a thousand complications. It'sabsolutely the most astounding case that I've ever had in hand. EvenShaw, our superintendent at the Yard, a man whose deep-rooted convictionis that we never need fail if we really take an interest in an inquiry,acknowledged to me the other day that he could see no way to a clue. Ofcourse, we might question Mrs. Blain, or even arrest Blain himself onsuspicion if we could find him again. But whoever is guilty has takensuch careful precautions to obliterate every trace of a clue that boththe superintendent and myself are agreed that the interrogation ofeither of the Blains would only result in defeating our ends." That wasexactly my own opinion. I had many times wondered why the police hadnot made inquiries of Mrs. Blain on account of the statement by thelandlord at Kensington, but it was now plain that the Director ofCriminal Investigations, the greyheaded, loud-voiced, old gentleman whomI knew quite well at Scotland Yard, had decided otherwise.

  "But why are you so anxious that my friend Cleugh should remain inignorance of our movements?" I inquired.

  "You say that he loves Mary Blain," answered Boyd. "He might in thatcase drop some unintentional hint to her of the direction of ourinquiries. This matter, to be successful, must be entirely a secretbetween ourselves--you understand? To-day
we've made a discovery--theidentity of the man who threw some object into the lake--and it puts arather fresh complexion upon the affair, even though it furthercomplicates it considerably. You said that his wife has all along toldyou that her husband was in Paris--I think?"

  "Yes," I responded. "She said he was there in connexion with somecompany which he was trying to promote."

  "And all along he has been in London--in hiding."

  "He may have just returned from Paris," I suggested. "Recollect thatI've not been to Riverdene for some little time."

  "No, my dear