Part 15 (1/2)

”Good-morning, Mr. Brooks,” she said, affecting great surprise at seeing him. ”You are here still?”

”Oh, yes.” His tone was careless, but as he spoke he moved in a direction away from the house, and toward a small bench that stood beside the driveway. ”Dr. Hartmann concluded that I needed treatment--I'm afflicted with loss of memory, it seems. Beautiful day, isn't it?”

She murmured some response, waiting for him to speak again. Presently he judged the distance from the house sufficiently great. No one was near enough to possibly overhear them.

”The snuff box is hidden--sewn inside of the false crown of my opera hat,” he said, in a low voice. ”It is in the room under the doctor's laboratory. He does not know it is there, and I don't dare try to get it, for fear he will find out. If you have a chance--” He paused.

”I understand.”

”But be careful--very careful.”

”I will.” They sat down upon the bench toward which they had been headed. ”I had thought of seeing Mr. Phelps to-day, and asking him to have you released.”

”It would be useless,” he said. ”I cannot go without the snuff box.”

”Shall I send word to our friends in Brussels?” she asked.

”How can you do that?”

She explained the method, by means of the boy who drove the delivery wagon. He considered the matter carefully. ”Let them know that I am here, and why I cannot escape. Tell them that the snuff box is safe--so far. Do not let them know where it is--I trust no one with that--except you, dear.”

The tenderness of his voice thrilled her. She longed to grasp his hand--to tell him of the love which filled her heart. Suddenly he spoke, quickly, warningly. ”Be careful,” he said. ”We are being watched. That man Mayer is observing us with an opera gla.s.s, from a window of the house. Don't look at me that way. I shall leave you now. Let us meet during the afternoon.” He rose, bowed to her carelessly, and strolled back toward the house, leaving her disconsolate upon the bench.

He entered the hall aimlessly, not knowing what to do next. The situation was one which taxed his resources to the utmost. No case that he had encountered in his whole experience offered the slightest suggestion whereby he might hope to effect a solution of his present difficulties. Courage, resource, ingenuity seemed alike useless. He was helpless.

Dr. Hartmann appeared in the hall as he entered it. ”Come in, Mr.

Duvall,” he said, holding open the door of the office. ”Suppose we have a little chat.”

For a moment the detective hesitated, then decided to meet the doctor's good nature in kind. ”By all means,” he replied. ”You owe me some explanation of your conduct in keeping me here.”

”Keeping you here, Mr. Duvall? Surely you are mistaken. The gate is open.” He waved his hand toward the lawn.

”I have no desire to run away, like a criminal, Dr. Hartmann. When I go, I shall go in a dignified way, and take my belongings with me.”

”Your belongings!” The doctor seemed impressed with the remark. ”So you have the snuff box hidden somewhere among them, have you?”

Duvall began a hasty denial, but the doctor cut him short. ”Absurd, Mr.

Duvall,” he exclaimed. ”You would leave here quickly enough, if you could take the box with you. But where you have concealed it, I confess I cannot imagine. I have examined your things with the utmost care. It is not among them, of that I am certain. I gave you your liberty this morning, to see whether or not you would attempt to escape. Had you done so I should have known that the box was concealed somewhere in the city, or else in the hands of your confederates. Now I am convinced that it is here. I thought at one time that you might have given it to Miss Ellicott--I have an idea that there is something between you, although of that I am by no means certain. But I know that she hasn't it, for her belongings were searched with equal care, last night, while she slept.

The thing is a mystery to me, Mr. Duvall, and I compliment you upon your ingenuity. Had you been as wise, yesterday, as you were clever, you would have left Brussels before I discovered the trick you had played on me. Why you did not do so--why you foolishly remained to dine at the house of Mr. Phelps, I confess I cannot see. It is beyond me. But all that is beside the case. You have the snuff box--at least you know where it is. Are you going to turn it over to me, or must I force you to do so?”

Duvall listened to the doctor with an impa.s.sive face. ”I know nothing about any snuff box,” he returned, with a show of anger. ”You are wasting your time, Dr. Hartmann. I have nothing more to say on the subject.” He turned his back and gazed moodily out across the lawn.

Hartmann regarded him with a scowl of anger. ”I give you until to-night, Mr. Duvall, to do as I ask. After that, I shall be compelled to force you to do so.”

The detective shrugged his shoulders and turned to the door. ”You use strong words, my friend. If any harm comes to me, my government will know how to deal with you.” His threat did not seem to alarm the doctor particularly. ”Do not forget, Mr. Duvall,” he said, with an evil smile, ”that while I know how to cure mental disorders, I also know how to create them. Good-morning.”

The grave threat in his words filled Duvall with uneasiness. What did Hartmann mean? Did he propose to feed him with drugs, cunningly concealed in his food, which would steal away his senses, and leave him a babbling child? The thought was terrifying. Yet he had until to-night.

He decided to return to his room and think, hoping thus to evolve some plan which might prove a solution of his difficulties. In the afternoon he would communicate it to Grace, and she, in return, could send word to Dufrenne, so that the latter might cooperate with him.