Part 25 (1/2)

”I should like,” Mr. Stanley said, ”to see him.”

”I am sorry,” I answered, ”but that is impossible. The nurses are busy in the room now, and apart from that, the dead, at least, should have peace from their enemies. Of one thing I can a.s.sure you. Every sc.r.a.p of paper he had with him is burnt. There is nothing about him or the room which could be of interest to you. I have sent for his lawyer, and am making arrangements for the funeral. There is nothing more to be said or done, except to say good afternoon to you, Mr. Stanley,”

He rose slowly up from his chair.

”You are a little precipitate, Mr. Courage,” he said, ”but I do not know that I can blame you. Do you object to telling me when the funeral will be?”

”I am not myself informed, at present,” I answered. ”I am waiting for the arrival of the lawyer.”

I had risen to my feet, and was standing with the handle of the door in my hand. Mr. Stanley took the hint, yet I fancied that he departed unwillingly.

”I should like,” he admitted, ”to have seen--him, and also the lawyer.”

”Then you can find another opportunity,” I answered stiffly. ”Mr. Guest's friends would receive every consideration from me. His enemies, I must admit, I cannot, under the circ.u.mstances, see the back of too quickly.”

Mr. Stanley had no alternative but to depart, which he did with as good a grace as possible. I was glad to be alone for a few minutes. My ordinary share of the vices of life, both great and small, I was, without a doubt, possessed of. But I had never been a liar. I had never looked a man in the face and made statements which I had known at the time were absolutely and entirely false. This was my first essay in a new role.

My next visitor was a very different sort of person, a fair, florid little man, with easy, courteous manners, and dressed in deep mourning.

He introduced himself as Mr. Raynes, of Raynes and Bishop, Solicitors, Lincoln's Inn, and alluded to the telegram which I had sent him earlier in the morning.

”May I inquire,” he asked, after we had exchanged a few commonplaces, ”if you are aware that Mr. Leslie Guest was an a.s.sumed name of the deceased?”

”I was in his confidence towards the last,” I answered. ”He told me a good deal of his history.”

The lawyer nodded sympathetically.

”A very sad one, I fear you found it,” he remarked.

”Very sad indeed,” I a.s.sented.

”I have here,” he continued, ”Lord Leslie's will, and instructions as to his burial. I presume you would like me to take entire charge of all the arrangements?”

”Certainly,” I answered.

”His Lords.h.i.+p wished to be buried very quietly in the nearest churchyard to the place where he died,” the lawyer continued. ”I presume that can be arranged.”

”Quite easily,” I answered. ”The clergyman is waiting to see you now; if you like I will take you to him.”

In the hall we met Lady Dennisford. She was plainly dressed in black, and she carried a great bunch of white roses. I introduced Mr. Raynes to the vicar, and hurried back to her.

”You would like to see him?” I asked.

She nodded, and I led the way upstairs. I opened the door and closed it again softly, leaving them alone....

I descended into the hall, and there upon the steps, looking at me with black, beady eyes, deep set in his wrinkled face, was my friend, or rather my enemy, Nagaski. He eyed my approach with gloomy disfavor.

He opened his mouth in a seeming yawn, a little, red tongue shot out from between his ivory teeth. Then I heard him called by a familiar voice, and pa.s.sing out, I found his mistress leaning back in the corner of Lady Dennisford's victoria.

She welcomed me with a slow, curious smile.

”I will get out,” she said. ”There is something I should like to say to you.”