Part 23 (2/2)
”Yes, Mr. Burchill?” she said quietly. ”You wish to see me?”
She looked him over steadily as she spoke, and noted a certain air of calm self-a.s.surance about him which struck her with a vague uneasiness.
He was too easy, too quiet, too entirely businesslike to be free from danger. And the bow which he gave her was, to her thinking, the height of false artifice.
”I wished to see you and to speak to you, with your permission,” he answered. ”I beg you to believe that what I have--what I desire to say is to be said by me with the deepest respect, the most sincere consideration. I have your permission to speak? Then I beg to ask you if--I speak with deep courtesy!--if the answer which you made to a certain question of mine some time ago is--was--is to be--final?”
”So final that I am surprised that you should refer to the matter,”
replied Peggie. ”I told you so at the time.”
”Circ.u.mstances have changed,” he said. ”I am at a parting of the ways in life's journey. I wish to know--definitely--which way I am to take. A ray of guiding light from you----”
”There will be none!” said Peggie sharply. ”Not a gleam. This is waste of time. If that is all you have to say----”
The door of the study opened, and Selwood, who was still engaged about the house, came in. He paused on the threshold, staring from one to the other, and made as if to withdraw. But Peggie openly smiled on him.
”Come in, Mr. Selwood,” she said. ”I was just going to ask Kitteridge to find you. I want to see both you and Mr. Tertius.”
Then she turned to Burchill, who stood, a well-posed figure in his fine raiment, still watching her, and made him a frigid bow.
”There is no more to say on that point--at any time,” she said quietly.
”Good day. Mr. Selwood, will you ring the bell?”
Burchill executed another profound and self-possessed bow. He presently followed the footman from the room, and Peggie, for the first time since Jacob Herapath's death, suddenly let her face relax and burst into a hearty laugh.
CHAPTER XIX
WEAVING THE NET
That evening Triffitt got Burchill's address from Carver, and next day he drew a hundred pounds from the cas.h.i.+er of the _Argus_ and went off to Calengrove Mansions. In his mind there was a clear and definite notion.
It might result in something; it might come to nothing, but he was going to try it. Briefly, it was that if he wished--as he unfeignedly did wish--to find out anything about Burchill, he must be near him; so near, indeed, that he could keep an eye on him, acquaint himself with his goings and comings, observe his visitors, watch for possible openings, make himself familiar with Burchill's daily life. It might be a difficult task; it might be an easy task--in any case, it was a task that must be attempted. With Markledew's full consent and approval behind him and Markledew's money-bags to draw upon, Triffitt felt equal to attempting anything.
The first thing was to take a quiet look at Burchill's immediate environment. Calengrove Mansions turned out to be one of the smaller of the many blocks of residential flats which have of late years arisen in such numbers in the neighbourhood of Maida Vale and St. John's Wood. It was an affair of some five or six floors, and judging from what Triffitt could see of it from two sides, it was not fully occupied at that time, for many of its windows were uncurtained, and there was a certain air of emptiness about the upper storeys. This fact was not unpleasing to Triffitt; it argued that he would have small difficulty in finding a lodgment within the walls which sheltered the man he wanted to watch.
And in pursuance of his scheme, which, as a beginning, was to find out exactly where Burchill was located, he walked into the main entrance and looked about him, hoping to find an address-board. Such a board immediately caught his eye, affixed to the wall near the main staircase.
Then Triffitt saw that the building was divided into five floors, each floor having some three or four flats. Those on the bottom floors appeared to be pretty well taken; the names of their occupants were neatly painted in small compartments on the board. Right at the top was the name Mr. Frank Burchill--and on that floor, which evidently possessed three flats, there were presumably no other occupants, for the remaining two s.p.a.ces relating to it were blank.
Triffitt took all this in at a glance; another glance showed him a door close by on which was painted the word ”Office.” He pushed this open and walked inside, to confront a clerk who was the sole occupant. To him, Triffitt, plunging straight into business, gently intimated that he was searching for a convenient flat. The clerk immediately began to pull out some coloured plans, labelled first, second, third floors.
”About what sized flat do you require?” he asked. He had already looked Triffitt well over, and as Triffitt, in honour of the occasion, had put on his smartest suit and a new overcoat, he decided that this was a young man who was either just married or about to be married. ”Do you want a family flat, or one for a couple without family, or----”
”What I want,” answered Triffitt readily, ”is a bachelor flat--for myself. And--if possible--furnished.”
”Oh!” said the clerk. ”Just so. I happen to have something that will suit you exactly--that is, if you don't want to take it for longer than three or four months.” He pulled forward another plan, labelled ”Fifth Floor,” and pointed to certain portions, shaded off in light colours.
”One of our tenants, Mr. Stillwater,” he continued, ”has gone abroad for four months, and he'd be glad to let his flat, furnished, in his absence. That's it--it contains, you see, a nice sitting-room, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen--all contained within the flat, of course. It is well and comfortably furnished, and available at once.”
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