Part 24 (1/2)

He unlocked the door, and pa.s.sing in first, lit a reading lamp on his desk. Then relocking the door behind his visitor and unostentatiously slipping the key into his pocket, he sat down at the desk, waved Merriman to a chair, and producing a box of cigars, pa.s.sed it across.

The windows, Merriman noticed, were covered by heavy blinds, and it was evident that no one could see into the room, nor could the light be observed from without. The door behind him was locked, and in Mr.

Coburn's pocket was the key as well as a revolver, while Merriman was unarmed. Moreover, Mr. Coburn was the larger and heavier, if not the stronger man of the two. It was true his words and manner were those of a friend, but the cold hatred in his eyes revealed his purpose. Merriman instantly realized he was in very real personal danger, and it was borne in on him that if he was to get out of that room alive, it was to his own wits he must trust.

But he was no coward, and he did not forget to limp as he crossed the room, nor did his hand shake as he stretched it out to take a cigar.

When he came within the radius of the lamp he noticed with satisfaction that his coat was covered with fragments of moss and leaves, and he rather ostentatiously brushed these away, partly to prove to the other his calmness, and partly to draw attention to them in the hope that they would be accepted as evidence of his fall.

Fearing lest if they began a desultory conversation he might be tricked by his astute opponent into giving himself away, he left the latter no opportunity to make a remark, but plunged at once into his subject.

”I feel myself, Mr. Coburn,” he began, ”not a little in your debt for granting me this interview. But the matter on which I wish to speak to you is so delicate and confidential, that I think you will agree that any precautions against eavesdroppers are justifiable.”

He spoke at first somewhat formally, but as interest in his subject quickened, he gradually became more conversational.

”The first thing I have to tell you,” he went on, ”may not be very pleasant hearing to you, but it is a matter of almost life and death importance to me. I have come, Mr. Coburn, very deeply and sincerely to love your daughter.”

Mr. Coburn frowned slightly, but he did not seem surprised, nor did he reply except by a slight bow. Merriman continued:

”That in itself need not necessarily be of interest to you, but there is more to tell, and it is in this second point that the real importance of my statement lies, and on it hinges everything that I have to say to you. Madeleine, sir, has given me a definite a.s.surance that my love for her is returned.”

Still Mr. Coburn made no answer, save then by another slight inclination of his head, but his eyes had grown anxious and troubled.

”Not unnaturally,” Merriman resumed, ”I begged her to marry me, but she saw fit to decline. In view of the admission she had just made, I was somewhat surprised that her refusal was so vehement. I pressed her for the reason, but she utterly declined to give it. Then an idea struck me, and I asked her if it was because she feared that your connection with this syndicate might lead to unhappiness. At first she would not reply nor give me any satisfaction, but at last by persistent questioning, and only when she saw I knew a great deal more about the business than she did herself, she admitted that that was indeed the barrier. Not to put too fine a point on it--it is better, is it not, sir, to be perfectly candid--she is living in terror and dread of your arrest, and she won't marry me for fear that if it were to happen she might bring disgrace on me.”

Mr. Coburn had not moved during this speech, except that his face had become paler and the look of cold menace in his eyes seemed charged with a still more vindictive hatred. Then he answered slowly:

”I can only a.s.sume, Mr. Merriman, that your mind has become temporarily unhinged, but even with such an excuse, you cannot really believe that I am going to wait here and listen to you making such statements.”

Merriman bent forward.

”Sir,” he said earnestly, ”I give you my word of honor and earnestly ask you to believe that I am approaching you as a friend. I am myself an interested party. I have sought this interview for Madeleine's sake. For her sake, and for her sake only, I have come to ask you to discuss with me the best way out of the difficulty.”

Mr. Coburn rose abruptly.

”The best way out of the difficulty,” he declared, no longer attempting to disguise the hatred he felt, ”is for you to take yourself off and never to show your face here again. I am amazed at you.” He took his automatic pistol out of his pocket. ”Don't you know that you are completely in my power? If I chose I could shoot you like a dog and sink your body in the river, and no one would ever know what had become of you.”

Merriman's heart was beating rapidly. He had the uncomfortable suspicion that he had only to turn his back to get a bullet into it. He a.s.sumed a confidence he was far from feeling.

”On the contrary, Mr. Coburn,” he said quietly, ”it is you who are in our power. I'm afraid you don't quite appreciate the situation. It is true you could shoot me now, but if you did, nothing could save you.

It would be the rope for you and prison for your confederates, and what about your daughter then? I tell you, sir, I'm not such a fool as you take me for. Knowing what I do, do you think it likely I should put myself in your power unless I knew I was safe?”

His a.s.surance was not without its effect. The other's face grew paler and he sat heavily down in his chair.

”I'll hear what you have to say,” he said harshly, though without letting go his weapon.

”Then let me begin at the beginning. You remember that first evening I was here, when you so kindly supplied me with petrol? Sir, you were correct when you told Captain Beamish and Mr. Bulla that I had noticed the changing of the lorry number plate. I had.”

Mr. Coburn started slightly, but he did not speak, and Merriman went on:

”I was interested, though the thing conveyed nothing to me. But some time later I mentioned it casually, and Hilliard, who has a mania for puzzles, overheard. He suggested my joining him on his trip, and calling to see if we could solve it. You, Mr. Coburn, said another thing to your friends--that though I might have noticed about the lorry, you were certain neither Hilliard nor I had seen anything suspicious at the clearing. There, sir, you were wrong. Though at that time we could not tell what was going on, we knew it was something illegal.”