The Motor Pirate

  CHAPTER V

  THE COLONEL DREAMS, AND I AWAKEN

  I SLEPT until late the next morning. I have always been accustomed to aclear eight hours' sleep, and, as I did not get between the sheets untilabout four in the morning, I naturally did not awaken until mid-day. Sowhat with my tub and the necessity for shaving, my early morning callupon the Colonel did not come off. I suppose, as a matter of fact, I satdown to breakfast just about the time when the gastronomic warrior wasthinking of luncheon. However, when I saw how amply my expectation of achange in the weather had been fulfilled, I did not regret my lengthysleep. From a sodden grey sky sheets of water were steadily pouring.There was not the slightest chance of any break in the clouds.Consequently I felt assured of finding Miss Maitland at home if I mademy call in the afternoon, and since her father oftentimes thought itexpedient to take a little repose after luncheon in order to preparehimself for the fatigue of dining, it was possible that I might even befortunate enough to secure a _tete-a-tete_ with her.

  I came to my breakfast, therefore, with as good a spirit as appetite,neither being in the slightest degree affected by the memory of the easyway in which I had been plundered by the Motor Pirate. Of course I felta certain chagrin. Still, I could contemplate the adventure with aconsiderable deal more equanimity than I had managed to display thenight before, though I found that my curiosity concerning him had, ifanything, increased. I turned with eagerness to the morning papers tosee whether they could add to my knowledge concerning him.

  As every one is aware, all the papers on the morning of the first ofApril that year devoted columns to his exploits. If I remember aright,the country was at that time engaged upon two of our usual minor wars,Parliament was in the midst of an important debate upon the secondreading of a measure to secure an extension of the franchise, and adivorce case of more than common interest was engaging the attention ofthe leading legal lights of the law courts. But all these thingsreceived but the scantiest notice. The war news was relegated to theinside pages, the Parliamentary intelligence cut down to the barestsummary, the _cause celebre_ dismissed with such a paragraph asordinarily serves to chronicle an unimportant police court case. TheMotor Pirate had nearly a monopoly of the space at the editorialdisposal. There was column after column about him. The Plymouth robberywas reported in as great detail as the Compton Chamberlain affair, whilethere were particulars of two similar outrages committed at pointsbetween these two places.

  On running my eye over the reports I saw that they added nothing to whatI already knew, and I wasted no time in reading the leaders on thesubject. I was, however, extremely interested to find from one paperthat Winter and I had not been the only victims of the scoundrel'srapacity on the previous evening, for a brief telegram reported asimilar occurrence a few miles from Oxford on the London road. I at oncesent my man to purchase any of the early editions of the evening paperswhich might have reached St. Albans, in the hope that they might containfurther particulars of these operations.

  I had finished my breakfast, and was enjoying a cigarette in my library,when he returned. I took the papers from him, and the first glance atone of them made me gasp with amazement. The news which startled me wasall in one line--"Five more cars held up by the Motor Pirate."

  I am not going into details concerning these. If you have a desire torefresh your memory all you have to do is to turn to any newspaper ofthe date I have named and you will be able to get them _ad nauseam_. ButI will venture to give a list of the places where and the times at whichthe outrages took place, for I made a list of them in the hope that, bycarefully studying it with the map, I might get some idea as to where hemight next be expected to make his appearance.

  I found that at five minutes past nine he stopped a car some four milesfrom Oxford. Twenty minutes later he was robbing a lonely motoristmidway between Thame and Aylesbury. Then for forty minutes he appearedto have been idle, his next two exploits taking place within fiveminutes of each other, just after ten, in the neighbourhood of Amersham.King's Langley was the scene of his next adventure, the time given beingabout a quarter of an hour before he had overtaken us. In addition tothe particulars of these robberies there were a host of reports frompeople who had seen the Pirate car pass them on the road. But there wasone notable omission from the latter list. Not from a single town wasthere any record of the Pirate having been seen passing through it.

  I got a map of the district, and, after studying the country carefully,I was fain to confess that one of two things was certain: either theMotor Pirate had the power to make his car invisible at will, or else hehad a truly phenomenal knowledge of the bye-roads. How he had evenmanaged to get to Oxford, after his exploits in the West of England,without arrest, puzzled me. The car was so unique in shape that itseemed bound to excite observation. It could not have been put up at anyhotel, any more than it could have been run through the country bydaylight, without exciting remark and its presence being chronicled.What, then, had he done with it? The more I pondered the question themore puzzled I became, and at the same time the more determined to seeka solution of the mystery. But how? I made a dozen plans, all of which,upon consideration, appeared so futile, that I gave up the game indespair, and decided to see if my brain would not become clearer after Ihad paid my promised visit to Colonel Maitland.

  I did not find Miss Maitland alone, as I expected, or I might probablyhave been tempted to confide my experience to her, and to have asked theassistance of her woman's wit in putting me on the track of a solutionto the mystery. Mannering was with her. When I made my appearance in thedrawing-room, and found him enjoying a _tete-a-tete_, I cursed myselffor delaying my call and thus giving him such an opportunity. My temperwas not improved either by the discovery that they were sufficientlyengrossed in conversation to have been able very well to dispense withmy presence. I did not feel called upon to leave Mannering a clearfield, however, so I joined in the discussion, and tried my hardest tobe pleasant.

  Of course, there was only one possible topic of conversation, the themewhich was uttermost in every one's mind throughout the length andbreadth of the land. It was a difficult subject for me to discuss, andin a measure it was a difficult subject for Mannering, inasmuch as itwas hard to refrain from reference to the personal experience we had hadwith the Motor Pirate. It became increasingly difficult, when a fewminutes after my arrival Colonel Maitland joined us.

  "It was lucky for him he did not meet us, hey, Sutgrove?" said theColonel. "You, Winter, and myself, would soon settle a Motor Pirate,wouldn't we?"

  I muttered something which would pass for an assent, while Manneringshot an amused smile in my direction.

  "I wonder though we saw nothing of him," continued Maitland; "he musthave been very near us last night."

  "He seems to have been everywhere," I answered.

  "He has the ubiquity of a De Wet," said Mannering.

  "I hope I shall have a chance of meeting him sometime," I continuedgrimly.

  Colonel Maitland chuckled. "Heavens! What a fire-eater you are,Sutgrove. One might almost take you for a sub in a cavalry regiment."

  I made no answer, and Miss Maitland remarked--"I think that is veryunkind of you. You spoke of the Motor Pirate as if you owed him agrudge. I think we all ought to be supremely thankful to him for havingmade the wettest day we have had this year pass quite pleasantly."

  Bear him a grudge? I should think I did, but at the same time, I had nointention of confessing the reason, so I said--

  "Then we'll drink long life and prosperity to him the next time we havea bottle of that same port your father approved so highly last night."Then I turned to the Colonel, and made a clumsy attempt to turn thesubject of conversation. "Is your verdict upon my restaurant equallyfavourable to-day, sir?"

  Colonel Maitland's eyes twinkled. "I have nothing to regret. As for theport with which we finished, it seems to me the sort of stuff dreams aremade of. Do you know that the glass I drank--was it one glass ortwo?--gave me the most vivid dream I have enjoyed since
my childhood?"

  "Indeed! Let's hear it, Colonel," I replied.

  "Do tell us," said his daughter, as she rose from her seat, and put herarms coaxingly round her father's neck. "Do tell us like a real, good,kind, old-fashioned parent."

  The Colonel passed his hand lovingly over his daughter's sunny hair.

  "Sutgrove and Mannering don't want to hear about an old fellow's sillydreams," he said. "Besides, it was all about the Motor Pirate, and I cansee that Sutgrove for one is quite sick of the subject."

  I was, and I wasn't, but I speedily declared that I was not when I sawthat his daughter was bent upon hearing the story. So he started upon aprosy description as to how the fresh air had sent him to sleep, notsaying a word about the port, and I ceased to listen to him, preferringto devote the whole of my attention to his daughter, who had seatedherself upon a footstool at his feet, and was looking up into his facewith a pretty affectionate glance in her deep blue eyes, enough to setany one longing to be the recipient of similar regard. Her form,attitude, expression, all made so deep an impression upon me, that Ihave only to close my eyes at any time to see her just as she wasthen--the little witch! She knew full well how to make the most of herattractions, and though she has often declared since to me that the posewas quite unpremeditated, I could never quite believe her.

  However that may be, I was so fascinated in watching her--there was onestray curl which lay like a strand of woven gold upon her brow. Confoundit! It's all very well for the fellow who writes fiction for a living towrite about people's emotions. He is cold himself. If he were like me,and wished to describe his own feelings, he might find himself in thesame difficulty as myself, and give up the attempt.

  The Colonel's voice droned on. Suddenly I awoke to the consciousnessthat he was speaking of me. I think it was the fact of his daughterlooking at me which recalled me to attention.

  "Sutgrove had just looked back to see if I was comfortable, when he sawanother car on the road behind us. We had not long passed throughRadlett. You know the straight stretch of road just past the new Dutchbarn on the left----"

  My attention did not wander any more, and you may imagine myastonishment at hearing the Colonel describe in minute detail everythingwhich had befallen us upon the previous evening. He could tell a storywhen he liked, and on this occasion his description of the shamefacedmanner in which Winter had scrambled out of his car, and had handed overhis valuables to the Motor Pirate, was so ludicrous that I wascompelled to laugh at the description. When my turn came to bedescribed, Miss Maitland and Mannering were just as much amused, but Iam afraid that my attempt to participate in their mirth was ratherforced.

  When the story was done, Miss Maitland rose from her seat at herfather's feet, and, putting a hand on each of his shoulders--

  "You dear, delightful old fibber!" she remarked. "I don't believe youdreamed that at all. You couldn't." Then she wheeled round on me. "Nowtell me, Mr. Sutgrove, didn't that dream of father's really happen toyou last night?"

  What course was open to me but confession? I admitted the truth of thestory, and the Colonel was so choked with merriment, that I feared lesthe should be stricken with apoplexy.

  "The cream of the joke," he explained, when he recovered his powers ofspeech, "was that neither Winter nor Sutgrove had the slightest ideathat I was foxing. I intended to inform them directly we were clear ofthe Pirate; but when I heard them discussing the matter, and determiningto keep silence out of tenderness for my reputation, I could not resistkeeping up the joke."

  "I should think it was their own reputations they were thinking about,"said his daughter. "To submit so tamely to one man is not a very heroicproceeding."

  I heard Mannering chuckle, and I felt mad. But I fancy it was notMannering's amusement, but my own consciousness of the truth of thecriticism that galled.

  Colonel Maitland came to my rescue. "I thought they were very sensible,"he said. "Even a cripple with a gun is better than six sound Tommiesunarmed."

  "Sensible--yes," she replied scornfully. "But there are times when oneprefers a little less sense, and a little more--shall we say action. Iam sure you would not have obeyed so tamely?" she continued, turning toMannering.

  He smiled, and I felt as if it would give me exquisite pleasure to catchhim by the throat, and twist the smile out of his dark, handsome face.

  "Really, Miss Maitland," he replied, "you flatter me. You should not betoo hard on Sutgrove. I am sure that it was only the full comprehensionof his own helplessness which prevented him making a fight of it. Whatcould he have done?"

  "Oh, a man should always know what to do!" she answered petulantly. "Hasany one ever tried to hold you up?"

  "Well, yes," he answered. "Once when I was out in the west of theStates, some of the regulation bands tried the game on a train in whichI was travelling. But then, you see, the conductor in the railway-car inwhich I happened to be seated had a six-shooter. So had I. The otherpassengers got as near the floor as they possibly could when theshooting began. I was in pretty good practice in those days, don't youknow, so the other chaps didn't get much of a look in. We took the fourthey left behind them when they bolted on to the next station with us.Three of them were buried there, if I remember aright."

  "There," said Miss Maitland, with an unmistakable look of admiration inher eyes; "I knew you were different."

  "But then I was armed. If I had not been, I should have been on thefloor with the other passengers."

  In reply she merely gave him one glance. Mannering returned it with oneequally eloquent. I rose, and stalked to the window. To me Mannering'schampionship was an aggravation which I could not bear. Harder still wasit for me to observe the understanding which obviously existed betweenhim and Miss Maitland. Hitherto I had imagined that I had as good achance of winning her love as he had. But at this moment I felt that myhopes had been shattered.

  I think if I had remained a moment longer in the room, I should havebeen unable to restrain an impulse to knock some of the self-sufficiencyout of my rival. I left.

  Colonel Maitland followed me out, and I heard him ask me to dine withhim on the following day to wipe off the score he owed me.

  Without thinking, I accepted. Then I went out into the rain.