Part 32 (1/2)
”Oh! not very long,” replied the red-haired rustic beauty.
Whereupon I told her she need not send the copy up to the Hall, but as I was going back presently I would deliver it myself.
Warr was at the door of the inn as I pa.s.sed, and he called me in. When we were in his back parlour he said to me with a mysterious air--
”Do you know, sir, that that tramp who gave me a sovereign tip has been in Sibberton again? I saw him walking through the village the day before yesterday with another gentleman--one who's staying up at the Hall.”
”No, you're mistaken,” I answered laughing. ”It's Mr Smeeton, who's very much like him, an old friend of his lords.h.i.+p's. I fell into just the same error myself when I first saw him,” I added, in order, if possible, to remove any suspicion from the worthy man's mind.
”Well, do you know,” he said laughing, ”I could have sworn it was the same man, except that his beard has been trimmed. Of course he looks different, dressed as a gentleman.”
”No,” I rea.s.sured him. ”The man you have evidently seen is Mr Smeeton, with whom his lords.h.i.+p hunted big game in Africa a year or two ago.”
Then after a brief chat, in which he expressed surprise that the police had now relinquished all their efforts to discover the ident.i.ty of the murdered man or his a.s.sa.s.sin, I went out, returning to the little low-thatched cottage in which was the village post-office.
The red-haired girl handed me a telegram addressed to the Countess of Stanchester, remarking that no error had been discovered in its transmission, and placing it in my pocket I mounted the cycle and rode away up the avenue. As soon, however, as I was alone under the trees, I took out the envelope, tore it open, and saw that the message had been handed in at Ovington in Ess.e.x. It was unsigned and read--
”_To-night, Charing Cross, nine. Only bring handbag_.”
It showed that her ladys.h.i.+p was on the point of flight! Therefore I at once resolved to ascertain her destination and watch her doings.
On returning to the Hall I learnt from the servants that she had not gone out visiting as she intended, but was in her room. The men had not returned, so I took Lolita aside, showed her the telegram, and told her to go upstairs and watch if there was any sign of her intended departure. A quarter of an hour later my love came secretly to my room and told me that she had remarked casually to her that she intended to go to town to fit a dress, which she specially wanted for a garden-party, and would probably go up to town that evening.
That was sufficient for me. I kissed my love fondly, and telling her to remain under Keene's care, crammed some things into a bag and took the train at five-thirty from Kettering to St Pancras.
I travelled by the train previous to the one she would catch, therefore I dined leisurely at the cafe _Royal_, and at a quarter to nine stood beneath the clock on Charing Cross platform, watching the idlers keeping their appointments and the bustle of departing pa.s.sengers by the midnight mail for the Continent.
I had to exercise a good deal of caution to avoid detection; but at last, just before the hour, I saw her approach dressed in a dark-brown travelling-gown with a brown gossamer veil that gave her the appearance of an American globe-trotter, and was so thick that it would prevent recognition of her features.
She hurried across from the booking-office to the platform where the Continental express was on the point of starting, as though in fear that some one might detain her.
She was not alone, but at her side walked a man in grey felt hat and long grey overcoat. In him all my interest was centred, for he was none other than Logan.
I had, however, no time for reflection. Only just sufficient, indeed, to dash back to the booking-office, obtain a ticket for Paris, and enter the last compartment of the train before it moved off to our unknown destination.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
WHAT! SAW IN THE NIGHT.
The night mail for the Continent backed into Cannon Street for the postal-vans, and then rushed away into the wet stormy night for Dover Pier.
The journey, as far as there, proved uneventful, but as soon as I stepped out upon the rain-swept landing-stage, I saw that our crossing was to be a ”dirty” one. Beneath the electric lamps brawny seamen pa.s.sed in s.h.i.+ning oil-skins, and amid the bustle and shouting I saw the neat figure of the Countess with her companion hurry across the gangway to the shelter of a private cabin, wherein she entered and closed the door, while Logan went below to get a drink, and change some money with the steward, an action which was that of the constant traveller.
Not wis.h.i.+ng to appear too obtrusive, I remained on deck watching the mails being counted in, until the last bag had been flung into the hold, the cry ”All out!” sounded, the hatches were closed, and then slowly the packet began to move out into the rough open Channel.
When Logan emerged on deck I stood back in the darkness, taking a good view of him. He was dressed with every appearance of a gentleman, but from the manner in which he paced the deck I saw that he was greatly agitated and concerned, whether of the Countess's safety or of his own I could, of course, not determine. Neither had I any idea why the pair were fleeing from England, unless it was to escape some exposure which her ladys.h.i.+p knew to be imminent.
That woman was the enemy of my love; she had deceived me. Therefore the compa.s.sion I held for her had been succeeded by a fierce and unrelenting antagonism, and I intended to watch her and discover the truth.
I sat beneath the bridge under shelter from the driving rain, and hidden by the darkness, while the man Logan walked to and fro, utterly heedless of the storm. He did not go to her ladys.h.i.+p's cabin to inquire after her, therefore it struck me that perhaps they might have quarrelled. In any case his anxiety was intense.
On landing at Calais he took her into the buffet, where they had hot coffee, and a few moments later were joined by a thin black-haired sallow-faced man, evidently a foreigner from the studied manner in which he bowed before her as she sat at the table of the restaurant.