Part 22 (1/2)

”I wish to Heaven I could, Uncle Albert. But I am positive.”

”The very fact that he appeared exactly as you saw him last--in the big tweed suit and red waistcoat--would support an argument in favour of hallucination,” declared her uncle. ”For how on earth can the poor creature, if he be really still alive, have remained in those clothes for a year and travelled half across Europe in them?”

”It is monstrous. And yet there he stood and I saw him as clearly as I see you. He was certainly not in my thoughts. I was thinking of nothing and talking to a.s.sunta about the silkworms, when suddenly he appeared, not twenty yards away.”

”What did you do?”

”I made a fool of myself,” confessed Jenny. ”a.s.sunta says that I cried out very loud and then toppled over and fainted. When I came round there was nothing to be seen.”

”The point is then: did a.s.sunta see him also?”

”That was the first thing I found out. I hoped she had not. That would have saved the situation in a way and proved it was only some picture of the mind as you suggest. But she saw him clearly enough--so clearly that she described a red man not Italian, but English or German. She heard him, too. When I cried out he leaped away into the woods.”

”Did he see and recognize you?”

”That I do not know. Probably he did.”

Mr. Redmayne lighted a cigar which he took from a box on a little table by the open hearth. He drew several deep breaths before he spoke again.

”This is a very disquieting circ.u.mstance and I greatly wish it had not happened,” he said. ”There may be no cause for alarm; but, on the other hand, when we consider the disappearance of my brother Bendigo, I have a right to feel fear. By some miracle, Robert, for the last six months, has continued to evade capture and conceal the fact of his insanity. That means I am now faced with a most formidable danger, Jenny, and it behooves me to exercise the greatest possible care of my person. You, too, for all we can say, may be in peril.”

”I may be,” she said. ”But you matter more. We must do something swiftly, uncle--to-day--this very hour.”

”Yes,” he admitted. ”We are painfully challenged by Providence, my child. Heaven helps those who help themselves, however. I have never before, to my knowledge, been in any physical danger and the sensation is exceedingly unpleasant. We will drink some strong tea and then determine our course of action. I confess that I feel a good deal perturbed.”

His words were at variance with his quiet and restrained expression, but Mr. Redmayne had never told a falsehood in his life and Jenny knew that he was indeed alarmed.

”You must not stop here to-night,” she said. ”You must cross to Bellagio and stay with Signor Poggi until we know more.”

”We shall see as to that. Prepare the tea and leave me for half an hour to reflect.”

”But--but--Uncle Albert--he--he might come at any moment!”

”Do not think so. He is now, poor soul, a creature of the night. We need not fear that he will intrude in honest suns.h.i.+ne upon the haunts of men. Leave me and tell Ernesto to admit n.o.body who is not familiar to him. But I repeat, we need fear nothing until after dark.”

In half an hour Jenny returned with Mr. Redmayne's tea.

”a.s.sunta has just come back. She has seen nothing more of--of Uncle Robert.”

For a time Albert said nothing. He drank, and ate a large macaroon biscuit. Then he told his niece the plans he was prepared to follow.

”Providence is, I think, upon our side, pretty one,” he began, ”for my amazing friend, Peter Ganns, who designed to visit me in September, has already arrived in England; and when he hears of this ugly sequel to the story I confided in his ears last winter, I am bold to believe that he will hasten to me immediately and not hesitate to modify his plans. He is a methodical creature and hates to change; but circ.u.mstances alter cases and I feel justified in telling you that he will come as soon as he conveniently can do so.

This I say because he loves me.”

”I'm sure he will,” declared Jenny.

”Write me two letters,” continued Albert. ”One to Mr. Mark Brendon, the young detective from Scotland Yard, of whom I entertained a high opinion; and also write to your husband. Direct Brendon to approach Peter Ganns and beg them both to come to me as quickly as their affairs allow. Also bid Giuseppe to return to you immediately. He will serve to protect us, for he is fearless and resolute.”

But Jenny showed no joy at this suggestion.

”I was to have had a peaceful month with you,” she pouted.