Part 11 (1/2)
”Like a tramp, then?”
”No; his clothes is too new.”
”Well, Nelly, I will go and see him,” said Constance, beginning to despair of finding out whether this visitor were the tramp of the night previous, or the new actor expected on the scene. ”You know I never allow you to turn a tramp away hungry, and if one comes who seems worthy of help, I wish you always to let me know it.”
This she said, thinking of the manner in which it was probable the detective tramp would seek access to her presence.
”By the way, Nelly,” pausing with one foot on the steps of the dining-room terrace. ”You may wake Mrs. Aliston and tell her that if I wish her to join me in the little parlor I will send you to her,” then _sotto voce_, as she entered the house and went carelessly toward the drawing-room: ”If this visitor proves a bore I will turn him over to Aunt Honor; I can't have two days of constant boredom.”
Coming forward from the lower entrance, Constance encountered the gaze of the strange man, whom, arriving at the front door, Nelly had not ventured to set down as a tramp, and whose clothes made her doubt the propriety of showing him the drawing-room. Being of Hibernian extraction, and not to be nonplussed, Nelly had adapted a happy medium, and seated the visitor in the largest hall chair, where he now awaited the approach of Constance.
”I think you wished to see me,” said Constance, in the unaffected kindly tone usual to her when addressing strangers or inferiors, ”I am Miss Wardour.”
The stranger arose, making a stiff salute, and saying in a low, guarded tone:
”Yes, Miss Wardour, I have a message for you;” at the same moment he presented her a card, and glanced in a suggestive manner toward Nelly, who was traveling up the stairs in a very leisurely manner, _en route_ for Mrs. Aliston's rooms.
Constance glanced at the card which bore the inscription,
”JERRY BELKNAP, _Private Detective_.”
”Come this way,” she said, throwing open the drawing-room door and preceding him into that apartment.
Jerry Belknap, private detective, followed close behind her, and himself closed the door carefully. Constance crossed the room, drew back the curtains, and pushed open the shutters of the terrace windows, thus letting in a flood of light. Then turning, she seated herself upon a fauteuil, and, motioning the detective to a chair opposite, said:
”Now, sir, I am ready to receive your message.”
”It's a verbal one,” returned the detective, in a voice soft and smooth, not at all in keeping with his disguise, ”and from Mr. Lamotte. I am the officer chosen by him to investigate for you, Miss Wardour, and as much time has been lost, I only wait your sanction and acceptance to begin the work.”
The soft voice and polished accent were in very marked contrast to his dress and facial appearance. His manner of boorish discomfort had been dropped when the door closed upon outside observation.
Mentally contrasting the ease and suavity of this new comer with the cat-like movements and brusqueness of his predecessor, Constance, who began to realize the ludicrousness of the situation, in fact seemed to have some special private reason for finding it exceedingly absurd, replied that Mr. Lamotte's chosen officer must of course be acceptable to her, and that she only awaited his commands, if she could be of any service to him.
”Then,” said Detective Belknap, ”I may as well look over the premises, unless,” turning upon her a searching look, ”there are particulars concerning the robbery which Mr. Lamotte was not in possession of.”
Constance lowered her eyes, in seeming effort to remember if Mr. Lamotte knew absolutely all; she thought of the chloroform, but the bottle had not yet been returned to her. What should she do? Before telling this part of the story she must have the bottle. Suddenly her woman's wit came to her aid. Looking up with sweetest candor into the detective's face, she said,
”I am the only one who possesses any information that was not known to Mr. Lamotte. It is a mere trifle, but as it will take some time in the telling, I will, if you please, order breakfast. You can scarcely have breakfasted at this hour. I will show you the library now. Will you look over that and the other rooms, and kindly excuse me for a short time?
Then join me at breakfast, and I will give you my version of the story.”
She arose as if considering the matter decided beyond question, and moved toward the door, and with a bow and a murmur of a.s.sent, Mr. Jerry Belknap fell into his a.s.sumed shamble, and followed her to the library.
Leaving him there, Constance went out to order breakfast served in half an hour, and to send Nelly with the key to her dressing room.
”Nelly must be taken into my confidence,” mused she, as she went in search of that damsel. ”I can trust Nelly in spite of her Irishries, and if Doctor Heath does not appear soon she must help me out in some way.”
Nelly was not at her post, having been dispatched kitchenward by Mrs.
Aliston, and Constance went up to her own rooms, thinking, as she went, how best to defer a further interview with Mr. Belknap.
”I must take him the key myself,” she muttered, as she moved about the dressing room, and then a sudden thought came, and she moved quickly to an open wardrobe, pulled down the dress she had worn on the previous afternoon, and searched hurriedly in the pockets.