Part 28 (1/2)

”You will permit me to say, then, Mistair Lester,” he observed, with just a touch of irony, ”that I fail to comprehend your anxiety concerning her.”

I felt that I had made a mis-step; that I had need to go carefully.

”It is not quite so simple as that,” I explained. ”The last time we saw Miss Holladay, she told us that she was ill, and intended to go to her country home for a rest. Instead of going there, she sailed for France, without informing anyone--indeed, doing everything she could to escape detection. That conduct seems so eccentric that we feel in duty bound to investigate it. Besides, two days before she left she received from us a hundred thousand dollars in cash.”

I saw him move uneasily on his bed; after all, this advantage of mine was no small one. No wonder he grew restless under this revelation of secrets which were not secrets!

”Ah!” he said softly; and again, ”Ah! Yes, that seems peculiar. Yet, perhaps, if you had waited for a letter----”

”Suppose we had waited, and there had been no letter--suppose, in consequence of waiting, we should be too late?”

”Too late? Too late for what, Mistair Lester? What is it you fear for her?”

”I don't know,” I answered; ”but something--something. At least, we could not a.s.sume the responsibility of delay.”

”No,” he agreed; ”perhaps not. You are doubtless quite right to investigate. I wish you success--I wish that I myself might aid you, there is so much of interest in the case to me; but I fear that to be impossible. I must rest--I who have so many affairs calling me, so little desire to rest! Is not the fate ironical?”

And he breathed a sigh, which was doubtless genuine enough.

”Will you go to Paris?” I asked.

”Oh, no; not at once. At Havre I shall meet my agent and transact my affairs with him. Then I shall seek some place of quiet along the coast.”

”Yes,” I said to myself, with leaping heart, ”Etretat!” But I dared not speak the word.

”I shall write to you,” he added, ”when I have settled. Where do you stay at Paris?”

”We haven't decided yet,” I said.

”We?” he repeated.

”Didn't I tell you? Mr. Royce, our junior partner, is with me--he's had a breakdown in health, too, and needed a rest.”

”It is no matter where you stay,” he said; ”I shall write to you at the _poste restante_. I should like both you and your friend to be my guests before you return to Amer-ric'.”

There was a courtesy, a cordiality in his tone which almost disarmed me. Such a finished scoundrel! It seemed a shame that I couldn't be friends with him, for I enjoyed him so thoroughly.

”We shall be glad to accept,” I answered, knowing in my heart that the invitation would never be made. ”You're very kind.”

He waved his hand deprecatingly, then let it fall upon the bed with a gesture of weariness. I recognized the sign of dismissal. I was ready to go; I had accomplished all I could hope to accomplish; if I had not already disarmed his suspicions, I could never do so.

”I am tiring you!” I said, starting up. ”How thoughtless of me!”

”No,” he protested; ”no”; but his voice was almost inaudible.

”I will go,” I said. ”You must pardon me. I hope you will soon be better,” and I closed the door behind me with his murmured thanks in my ears.

It was not till after dinner that I found opportunity to relate to Miss Kemball the details of my talk with Martigny. She listened quietly until I had finished; then she looked at me smilingly.

”Why did you change your mind?” she asked.