The Motor Pirate

  CHAPTER XIII

  OF THE ADVANTAGES OF BEING WOUNDED

  I SUPPOSE I must have lost more blood than I had reckoned upon, or elsethe excitement of the pursuit had been sufficient to keep me going; butwhichever it was, no sooner had we pulled up than I collapsed. I wasnever nearer fainting in my life. In fact I had to take another stiffdose of whisky, and even then I was only too glad to relinquish thesteering-wheel to Forrest, and let him drive me the rest of the wayhome. He never left me until I was safely in bed, and the surgeon he hadsummoned had stitched me up.

  Fortunately my wounds proved, as Forrest had foretold, more painful thandangerous. The bullet had carried with it some shreds of cloth; and theremoval of these from my arm was the only really painful bit of work thesurgeon had to perform. However, the medical man insisted upon myremaining in bed, and I obeyed his orders for a couple of days; but onthe third I felt so well that I rebelled against any furtherconfinement, and though still considerably sore, I managed to get outand about.

  I found I was a little bit shaky, yet I managed to get as far asColonel Mainland's house, and there I found my adventure had been ablessing in disguise, for I could see from the manner in which shegreeted me, that my last encounter with the Pirate had wiped from MissMaitland's memory all remembrance of the previous occasion. There wasonly one thing to mar my enjoyment of the situation thus created.Mannering had unfortunately been successful in making himself acandidate for similar solicitude. His injury, however, was even moretrivial than mine, the bullet having merely scored his shoulder. Iwished devoutly it had missed him altogether, or been a few incheshigher and more to the right; for in such case I should have had MissMaitland's undivided sympathies and attention, whereas I had perforce toshare them with my rival. I knew I had done nothing heroic; but ifMannering had not been hit I might at least have posed as half a hero,instead of which I had to be content with being a quarter of one.

  However, I made the most of what glory I had earned, and I am bound toconfess that I traded upon my sore arm in the most shameless fashion.

  Fortunately the Motor Pirate at this time entered upon a long period ofquiescence, so that I was free to make the most of my opportunity, andto devote the whole of my time to Miss Maitland's society. The detectivewas firmly of the opinion that this prolonged rest was due to one of ourshots having found its billet, and declared that we should hear nothingmore of him until he had repaired damages. The inaction, however, soonbecame very wearisome to him; and when a fortnight had elapsed without asingle appearance having been chronicled, he became quite morose. Bythat time he had searched over the whole district, but not a trace ofany other injured person could he discover; and he was as much at a lossfor a clue to the identity of the Pirate as he had been when he firstentered upon the job of running him to earth.

  The Press by this time had nothing but jeers for the police and for thedetective force generally. Meantime the most extraordinary steps weretaken to secure the Pirate's arrest when he should renew his career. TheAutomobile Club had officially lent their assistance to the police, andnight by night the principal roads of the county were patrolled by themembers of the club, thirsting for the opportunity of distinguishingthemselves by the capture of the marauder. The Pirate must have beenvastly amused in his retirement as he read of the sensation he hadcreated. I rather think that the man in the street looked upon the wholematter as the great sporting event of the century, and his sympathieswere undoubtedly with the man who could so easily snap his fingers atthe army of police, amateur and professional, who were engaged in thetask of seeking him. In fact, if he had not committed the murder atTowcester, I am convinced that the public would have elevated him to theposition of a great popular hero. Even as it was, he had no lack ofapologists; and an eminent ballad-monger celebrated his exploits in someverses, which were immensely applauded when recited by long-hairedenthusiasts at smoking concerts and similar gatherings. All this wasgall to Forrest; and at last one day, three weeks after our encounterwith the Pirate, he told me he could stand it no longer.

  "I must try another line of country," he remarked.

  "What line do you propose?" I asked.

  "The only thing I can think of," he replied, "is to make inquiries inAmsterdam, to see if the diamonds which were taken from the mail, havebeen offered for sale. I am quite certain they have not been put uponthe market this side of the water."

  I was very loth to let him go alone; but he would not hear of myaccompanying him.

  "What! run away now, and let your friend Mannering have a clear field? Iwouldn't if I were you," he remarked. "Besides, I can manage this sortof work better by myself."

  His final argument was conclusive, and he went away promising to look meup immediately he returned, and expressing the hope that nothing morewould be heard of the Pirate until his return.

  On the very same day it happened that Mannering also took his departurefrom St. Stephens. I had mentioned in his hearing that Forrest had beencalled away, and he had then informed us--Miss Maitland and myself--thathe had some business in Paris in connection with the patent tyre withwhich he was still experimenting, which would entail his absence for twoor three days.

  I sincerely trusted that his business would require a much longerperiod to transact; and as he was leaving by an early train the nextmorning, I took particular care he should obtain no opportunity for aprivate leave-taking with Miss Maitland.

  It was not a sporting thing to do, perhaps, but I was so much in earnestabout my love-making, that I had no scruples about spoiling as many ofmy rival's chances as I could. However, as it happened, I found somewhatto my surprise that my tactics were not unwelcome to Miss Maitland. Sheconfessed as much to me the next day. She---- But perhaps it will bebetter for me to give in some detail the conversation we had upon thisoccasion, since it had a considerable bearing upon after events.

  The morning after Mannering had departed was as brilliant a one as Juneever bestowed upon mortal. Now that my rival was out of the way, Ithought I might dispense with the sling which I had worn hitherto, anddirectly after breakfast I strolled across to the Maitlands', with theintention of persuading Miss Maitland to come for a ride on theMercedes. I found her on the point of starting for a stroll, with theobject of giving her favourite Irish setter a run, and I was easilypersuaded to abandon my projected ride and accompany her instead. Wechose the footpath between St. Stephen's church and the village of ParkStreet, and, stepping out briskly, we soon reached our destination; andas my companion would not hear of turning back, we continued our walk toBricket Wood. There I insisted upon resting.

  I had never seen her in higher spirits than she was that morning. Shebubbled over with gaiety. So much so that I could not help commentingupon the fact.

  "Yes," she replied frankly, in answer to my remarks on the subject, "Ido feel gay this morning. I feel as if a load had been removed from myshoulders."

  "Surely you can have no troubles," I remarked, half-banteringly.

  A shadow alighted for a moment upon her face and was gone again.

  "Nothing which ought to be a trouble. Nothing tangible and yet---- Oh,Mr. Sutgrove, do you--have you ever experienced a presentiment ofsomething dreadful happening? No; that is not exactly what I mean. Idon't know how to explain myself without----"

  Then she paused, and I discreetly kept silence. Presently she resumed.

  "Men are so stupid, or I would tell you all about it. You would neverunderstand."

  I saw my opening and made use of it. "We men may be stupid bothindividually and collectively," I said. "But I can answer for one manbeing sympathetic to anything you like to say to him."

  She laughed. "I am so afraid you will think me silly."

  "Miss Maitland--Evie----" I began.

  "Hush!" She stopped me with an adorable smile. "You know you haven'tcaught the Motor Pirate, yet."

  I summoned up the most injured expression permitted by my contentmentwith my surroundings and fell silent again.

  "Poor boy!" she
said mockingly. "It is unkind of me to remind you ofyour vow, when you have already done your best to fulfil it."

  "Not quite my best, yet," I muttered sullenly.

  "Anyhow I think you have done quite enough to warrant my taking you intomy confidence."

  She said this quite seriously, and glancing up at her, I saw she waslooking into a glade of the wood with a preoccupied expression on herpretty face, which showed me that it was in reality no petty troublewhich worried her.

  "This scene is so delightfully restful. I love the cool green lights andthe cool grey shadows of the woodlands in early summer," she remarkedabsently.

  I had no eyes for aught but the face of the speaker, though I wasindirectly conscious that there was a good deal of beauty in the wood.To me it seemed an appropriate background, that was all.

  "Yes," I said. "But about this presentiment of yours----"

  "It is hardly a presentiment; in fact, I don't know what to call it,"she replied. Then she turned and faced me. "Now listen. There's anacquaintance of mine, whom I know very well and used to like a greatdeal. Yes, I think I am right in saying used to like. Well, for someundefined reason, my liking has change to something very like fear."

  "For what reason?" I asked.

  "None," she replied. "Absolutely there is no reason whatever."

  "A case of Dr. Fell," I said. "Well, avoid your Dr. Fell."

  "That is exactly what I am unable to do," she answered, and I could seeshe was speaking truly. "This fear has grown up in some degree, I think,from a subtle sort of consciousness that the person in question has itin his power to exert a curious influence over me. I seem to be drawnagainst my will into an attitude towards him which is not only againstmy judgment, but also against my inclination."

  "Him?" I asked. "Him? Is it Mannering?"

  "Why, what made you think of him? Does he affect you in the same way?"she said eagerly.

  "Far from it," I replied. My first feeling was one of delight atdiscovering that my rival was more feared than loved. But as I thoughtover the matter, my astonishment grew. I had looked upon Mannering as arival, and as a favoured rival, but I was not prepared to hear that EvieMaitland was afraid of him, or of any other man for the matter of that,and I said so.

  "A month ago, I should have laughed at the idea myself," she replied,"but to-day----" She shuddered slightly. "Now you know why I feel so gaythis morning. The fact is, when on awakening this morning I realizedthat I should be absolutely free from his presence for two whole days, Ihardly knew how to contain myself for joy."

  "Surely you must have some grounds for fearing him, something in hismanner----"

  "No. Yet I have thought--but it is nothing. When we have been alonetogether he has sat once or twice staring at me. I try to speak to him,but he sits and stares and stares, with his eyes so bright and all thetime so sombre--so penetrating that I feel that he sees quite throughme. Just like one does in those unpleasant dreams where one's clotheshave somehow disappeared. To-day, and now, it seems very silly, yet I amcertain I shall feel exactly the same the next time I meet him. Thenwhen he sees how confused I am he gives a sort of a laugh, an unpleasantkind of a chuckle without any merriment in it."

  "He's a d----d cad!" I cried hotly.

  "I--I don't know," she answered. "I don't seem to mind at the time. Itis just as if I were in a dream, for I am so fascinated in watching himthat I have no thoughts left for myself. It is when he has gone that thethought seems unpleasant. Then I always think I will never see himagain, but the next time he calls I feel bound to do so. There, now Ihave confided in you, don't tell me I am a weak hysterical girl or Ireally don't know what will happen to me."

  She laid one of her little hands on my arm and looked imploringly intomy eyes.

  "I know you are neither weak nor hysterical," I replied.

  "You will help me, won't you?" she asked.

  I took both hands in mine and looked straight into her eyes.

  "The only way I see of helping you," I said deliberately, "is for you togive me the right to do so."

  She did not take her hands from my grasp.

  * * * * *

  "Do you know, Jim," she said an hour later, when we came out of the woodinto the meadow, "that I told you not to speak to me until you hadcaptured the Motor Pirate."

  "You could not answer for me, darling," I replied. "But I should nothave done so if I----"

  "Had not found the temptation to do so irresistible," she said, takingthe words out of my mouth with so bewitching an air, that again I foundan irresistible temptation confronting me.

  We did not revert again to the curious influence which Evie had declaredMannering exercised. She would not allow of it. She wanted to think thathe had gone completely out of her life, and that no more shadows wereever to fall across her path. And I was too happy myself to wish torefer to anything which should bring an unpleasant memory to her mind.

  I shall never forget our walk home. The silver thread of the Ver, theold monastery gate-house and the ruins of Sopwell Priory in theforeground, the churches of St. Stephens and St Michaels on either hand,and in the centre of the picture the Abbey of St. Albans brooding overall. We decided to be married in the abbey. I trod on air.