Part 46 (1/2)

There would not be much risk in going to Trent Park, he thought. He had warned her he would be dangerous if she gave him away, that she would come to harm; she seemed frightened by his threats. It was not likely she would brave them.

He understood why she left him, or thought so; it was because she knew he undertook risks and might suffer as his accomplice if they were caught.

”She'll have to come away with me,” he said. ”I'll square her father; it's only a matter of cash.”

It was some time after she left him he decided to take her away. He wrote; she had not answered his letters. He cursed her for an obstinate jade, vowing he would pay her out.

Jane showed her father his letters and he duly reported to Alan, who ordered a watch to be kept round the Park and near the cottage. Abel Head, Tom Thrush and several of the men at Trent Park were special constables. They thought it would be a feather in their cap if they caught a spy.

Carl Meason was cunning. He wished to find out how the land lay before venturing there. He sent one of his confidential agents to make inquiries. He returned in a couple of days, saying there were men about, watching the place, evidently on the lookout for somebody.

From this Carl gathered Jane had given information against him and flew into a terrible rage. Come of it what might he decided to punish her even if he ran risks.

He made elaborate preparations for his journey, hired a small but powerful car, disguised himself thoroughly. He was an adept at making up. In New York he had more than once saved his life owing to his skill. He knew the country well. He journeyed down in the daytime, pa.s.sing through Little Trent slowly, saw Abel Head at the door of the Sherwood Inn, smiled as he noticed he was unrecognized. He went at the same pace along the road leading past the wall where the door opened near Tom Thrush's cottage.

Jane heard the motor, opened the door, and looked out. So well was he disguised that she failed to recognize him or the car.

Motorists often went through the road in Trent Park and no notice was taken of Meason and his car.

It so happened that Alan and his wife were in London and as there had been no signs of Meason the watchers relaxed their vigilance. Tom Thrush was of opinion Meason had cleared out because he was in danger of being discovered; and Abel Head was of the same mind.

Jane felt safer. Perhaps he divined she had told of his doings and in consequence he thought it safer to hide for a time. She was, however, careful not to go far away from home, nor did she walk outside the Park. There was no telling what a desperate man would do.

Fortune favored Carl Meason. The night was dark, misty; a dense white stream covered the park, strangely thick and wetting. Leaving his motor under the wall some distance from the door where it was hidden by creepers overhanging, he concealed himself in one of the thick embrasures and watched. He was well protected by his motor coat, light but warm and water-proof.

He looked at his wrist watch. The illuminated figures showed it was eight o'clock. He wondered at the pitchy blackness of the night, unusual for the time of the year.

Listening intently he heard the door latch click; then it swung back with a bang. It was opened again and Jane called out:

”Don't be late, Father. It's a bad night. I don't care to be left alone.”

”I'll be back in an hour, my la.s.s, and bring Abel Head along with me.

He's plenty of time on his hands with these new restrictions in force.”

It was Tom Thrush's voice; he was going to the Sherwood Inn. What a stroke of luck! Such a chance would not occur again.

Carl Meason chuckled savagely as he heard Tom's footsteps die away in the distance. Creeping out he felt his way back to the motor along the wall, made sure all was right; the lights were low and covered by a dark protection which entirely obliterated them. He had taken every precaution and knew the way in the dark; he had only to keep to the road and get clear away with Jane. n.o.body was likely to be motoring on such a night. He was still disguised. He wondered if she would recognize his voice, he could alter it cleverly.

He banged at the door as though he had stumbled against it in the dark.

Jane was nervous, more so than she had been since her return. The noise startled her; it could not be her father returning, still there was a chance.

She listened. The knock came again, louder. She opened the cottage door; the light from the lamp shone on the outer door leading to the road.

”Who's there?” she asked, bravely, although her heart quaked.

”I've lost my way. I want to get to Little Trent,” said Carl, in a m.u.f.fled voice.

”Go straight on,” she said; ”it's not far.”

”Who lives here?”