Part 36 (1/2)

”Blackmail?” I asked.

He nodded.

”And do they blackmail Thorold in the same way?”

Again he nodded in the affirmative.

At last I seemed to be really on the verge of unravelling the mystery which had puzzled me so long--also on the way to discovering the closely-guarded secret of the Thorolds.

After a brief pause, I put another question to him.

”Is all that French gold I have seen, genuine?” I asked. ”I know some of it is, because I had some tested.”

”How many?” he inquired, in a tone of surprise.

”Three. They were all good.”

”Most of them are base coin,” he said. ”A small proportion only are coin from the French mint.”

”Then Thorold--and you, also, I take it--have had to do with uttering base coin.”

”You are wrong--in a sense. It may appear so to you. It would seem so to most people, most likely. In point of fact we are both innocent. We have been made a catspaw--how I cannot explain. You see, I am wholly frank with you. That is because I trust you, Ashton--and I don't trust many men, I can a.s.sure you.”

This was getting interesting.

Whichelo, finding how much I knew, had unreservedly thrown off all pretence. I suppose he thought it his safest plan, as indeed it was. I had given him my word I would hold my peace if he dealt with me openly, and evidently he believed me.

From the morning-room we had strolled towards the back premises, and this conversation had taken place in the butler's pantry, quite a big room. The only door was immediately behind us. All the time we had been conversing--and we must now have talked for over an hour--the door had stood half-open. Now, happening, for some reason, to turn round, I noticed that it was shut.

”Hullo!” I exclaimed, starting up surprised. ”Why, I thought that door was open!”

At once we dashed over to it. I turned the handle to the right and tugged at it; then to the left and again tugged. It had been locked from the outside--shut and locked so carefully, that we had not heard a sound.

I bent down to examine the lock.

The key was still in it--on the outside!

I drew back, and held my breath. What did it mean?

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

IN THE SHADOW.

Whichelo was at once practical.

He turned, and glanced quickly at the long window. It was securely barred, horizontally, as well as vertically. Then he pushed a table forward, clambered upon it, and exerting all his strength, endeavoured to wrench one, then another, of the bars from its socket.

A silly action. He could not stir one of them.

”Paulton has locked us in,” he said, as he stood again beside me.