Author: Fred M. White
Category: Mystery
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CHAPTER VII
NO. 218, BRUNSWICK SQUARE
The emotion of surprise seemed to have left Steel altogether. After thelast discovery he was prepared to believe anything. Had anybody told himthat the whole Bench of Bishops was at the bottom of the mystery he wouldhave responded that the suggestion was highly probable.
"Still, it's what the inimitable Dick Swiveller would call astaggerer," he muttered. "Gates, the millionaire, the one greatcapitalist who has the profound respect of the labour world. No, a manwith a record like that couldn't have anything to do with it. Still, itmust have been from his house that the mysterious message came. Thepost-office people working the telephone trunk line would know that--afact which probably escaped the party who called me up.... I'll go toBrunswick Square and see that woman. Money or no money, I'll not lieunder an imputation like this."
There was one thing to be done beforehand, and that was to see Dr. Cross.From the latter's manner he evidently knew nothing of the charge hangingover Steel's head. Marley was evidently keeping that close to himself andspeaking to nobody.
"Oh, the man is better." Cross said, cheerfully. "He hasn't beenidentified yet, though the Press has given us every assistance. I fancythe poor fellow is going to recover, though I am afraid it will be along job."
"He hasn't recovered consciousness, then?"
"No, and neither will he for some time to come. There seems to be acertain pressure on the brain which we are unable to locate, and we darenot try the Roentgen rays yet. So on the whole you are likely to escapewith a charge of aggravated assault."
David smiled grimly as he went his way. He walked the whole distance toHove along North Street and the Western Road, finally turning downBrunswick Square instead of _up_ it, as he had done on the night of thegreat adventure. He wondered vaguely why he had been specially instructedto approach the house that way.
Here it was at last, 219, Brunswick Square--220 above and, of course, 218below the house. It looked pretty well the same in the daylight, the samedoor, the same knocker, and the same crimson blind in the centre of thebig bay window. David knocked at the door with a vague feeling ofuncertainty as to what he was going to do next. A very staid,old-fashioned footman answered his ring and inquired his business.
"Can--can I see your mistress?" David stammered.
The staid footman became, if possible, a little more reserved. If thegentleman would send in his card he would see if Miss Ruth wasdisengaged. David found himself vaguely wondering what Miss Ruth'ssurname might be. The old Biblical name was a great favourite of his.
"I'm afraid I haven't a card," he said. "Will you say that Mr. Steelwould like to see--er--Miss Ruth for a few minutes? My business isexceedingly pressing."
The staid footman led the way into the dining-room. Evidently this was nofrivolous house, where giddy butterflies came and went; such gaudyinsects would have been chilled by the solemn decorum of the place. Davidfollowed into the dining-room in a dreamy kind of way, and with thefeeling that comes to us all at times, the sensation of having done andseen the same thing before.
Nothing had been altered. The same plain, handsome, expensive furniturewas here, the same mahogany and engravings, the same dull red walls, withthe same light stain over the fire-place--a dull, prosperous,square-toed-looking place. The electric fittings looked a littledifferent, but that might have been fancy. It was the identical room.David had run his quarry to earth, and he began to feel his spiritsrising. Doubtless he could scheme some way out of the difficulty andspare his phantom friends at the same time.
"You wanted to see me, sir? Will you be so good as to state yourbusiness?"
David turned with a start. He saw before him a slight, graceful figure,and a lovely, refined face in a frame of the most beautiful hair that hehad ever seen. The grey eyes were demure, with just a suggestion of mirthin them; the lips were made for laughter. It was as if some dainty littleactress were masquerading in Salvation garb, only the dress was allpriceless lace that touched David's artistic perception. He could imaginethe girl as deeply in earnest as going through fire and water for herconvictions. Also he could imagine her as Puck or Ariel--there wasrippling laughter in every note of that voice of hers.
"I--I, eh, yes," Steel stammered. "You see, I--if I only knew whom I hadthe pleasure of addressing?"
"I am Miss Ruth Gates, at your service. Still, you asked for me by name."
David made no reply for a moment. He was tripping over surprises again.What a fool he had been not to look out the name of the occupant of 219in the directory. It was pretty evident that Gilead Gates had a house inBrighton as well as one in town. Not only had that telephone messageemanated from the millionaire's residence, but it had brought Steel tothe philanthropist's abode in Brighton. If Mr. Gates himself had strolledinto the room singing a comic song David would have expressed no emotion.
"Daughter of the famous Gilead Gates?" David asked, feebly.
"No, niece, and housekeeper. This is not my uncle's own house, he hasmerely taken this for a time. But, Mr. Steel--"
"Mr. _David_, Steel--is my name familiar to you?"
David asked the question somewhat eagerly. As yet he was only feelinghis way and keenly on the lookout for anything in the way of a clue. Hesaw the face of the girl grow white as the table-cover, he saw thelurking laughter die in her eyes, and the purple black terror dilatingthe pupils.
"I--I know you quite well by reputation," the girl gasped. Her littlehands were pressed to her left side as if to check some deadly painthere. "Indeed, I may say I have read most of your stories. I--I hopethat there is nothing wrong."
Her self-possession and courage were coming back to her now. But thespasm of fear that had shaken her to the soul was not lost upon Steel.
"I trust not," he said, gravely. "Did you know that I was here twonights ago?"
"Here!" the girl cried. "Impossible! In the house! The night before last!Why, we were all in bed long before midnight."
"I am not aware that I said anything about midnight," Davidresponded, coldly.
An angry flush came sweeping over the face of the girl, annoyance at herown folly, David thought. She added quickly that she and her uncle hadonly been down in Brighton for three days.
"Nevertheless, I was in this room two nights ago," David replied. "If youknow all about it, I pray you to give me certain information of vitalimportance to me; if not, I shall be compelled to keep my extraordinarystory to myself, for otherwise you would never believe it. Do you or doyou not know of my visit here?"
The girl bent her head till Steel could see nothing but the gloriousamber of her hair. He could see, too, the fine old lace round her throatwas tossing like a cork on a stream.
"I can tell you nothing," she said. "Nothing, nothing, nothing."
It was the voice of one who would have spoken had she dared. Withanybody else Steel would have been furiously angry. In the present casehe could only admire the deep, almost pathetic, loyalty to somebody whostood behind.
"Are you sure you were in this house?" the girl asked, at length.
"Certain!" David exclaimed. "The walls, the pictures, thefurniture--all the same. I could swear to the place anywhere. MissGates, if I cannot prove that I was here at the time I name, it islikely to go very hard with me."
"You mean that a certain inconvenience--"
"Inconvenience! Do you call a charge of murder, or manslaughter at best,inconvenient? Have you not seen the local papers? Don't you know that twonights ago, during my absence from home, a strange man was practicallydone to death in my conservatory? And during the time of the outrage, assure as Heaven is above us, I was in this room."
"I am sorry, but I am sure that you were not."
"Ah, you are going to disappoint me? And yet you know something. Youmight have been the guiltiest of creatures yourself when I disclosed myidentity. No prisoner detected in some shameful crime ever looked moreguilty than you."
The girl stood there, saying nothing. Had she rang the bell and orde
redthe footman to put him out of the house, Steel would have had no causefor complaint. But she did nothing of the kind. She stood there torn byconflicting emotions.
"I can give you no information," she said, presently. "But I am aspositive one way as you are another that you have never been in thishouse before. I may surmise things, but as I hope to be judged fairly Ican give you no information. I am only a poor, unhappy girl, who is doingwhat she deems to be the best for all parties concerned. And I can tellyou nothing, nothing. Oh, won't you believe that I would do anything toserve you if I were only free?"
She held out her hand with an imploring gesture, the red lips werequivering, and her eyes were full of tears. David's warm heart went outto her; he forgot all his own troubles and dangers in his sympathy forthe lovely creature in distress.
"Pray say no more about it," he cried. He caught the outstretched hand inhis and carried it to his lips. "I don't wish to hurry you; in fact,haste is dangerous. And there is ample time. Nor am I going to press you.Still, before long you may find some way to give me a clue withoutsacrificing a jot of your fine loyalty to--well, others. I would notdistress you for the world, Miss Gates. Don't you think that this hasbeen the most extraordinary interview?"
The tears trembled like diamonds on the girl's long lashes and a smileflashed over her face. The sudden transformation was wonderfullyfascinating.
"What you might call an impossible interview," she laughed. "And all themore impossible because it was quite impossible that you could ever havebeen here before."
"When I was in this room two nights ago," David protested, "I saw---"
"Did you see me, for instance? If not, you couldn't have been here."
A small, misshapen figure, with the face of a Byron--Apollo on the bustof a Satyr--came in from behind the folding doors at the back of thedining-room carrying some letters in his hand. The stranger's dark,piercing eyes were fixed inquiringly upon Steel.
"Bell," the latter cried; "Hatherly Bell! you have been listening!"
The little man with the godlike head admitted the fact, coolly. Hehad been writing letters in the back room and escape had beenimpossible for him.
"Funny enough, I was going to look you up to-day," he said. "You did mea great service once, and I am longing to repay you. I came down here togive my friend Gates the benefit of my advice and assistance over alarge philanthropic scheme he has just evolved. And, writing lettersyonder on that subject, I heard your extraordinary conversation. Can Ihelp you, Steel?"
"My dear fellow," David cried, "if you offered me every intellect inEurope I should not choose one of them so gladly as yours."
"Then let us shake hands on the bargain. And now I am going to staggeryou; I heard you state positively that two nights ago you were in thisvery room."
"I am prepared to testify the fact on oath anywhere, my dear Bell."
"Very well; will you be good enough to state the hour?"
"Certainly. I was here from one o'clock--say between one and two."
"And I was here also. From eleven o'clock till two I was in this veryroom working out some calculations at this very table by the aid of myreading-lamp, no other light being in the room, or even in the house, asfar as I know. It is one of my fads--as fools call them--to work in alarge, dark room with one brilliant light only. Therefore you could notpossibly have been in the house, to say nothing of this room, on thenight in question."
David nodded feebly. There was no combating Bell's statement.
"I presume that this is No. 219?" he asked.
"Certainly it is," Miss Gates replied. "We are all agreed about _that_."
"Because I read the number over the fanlight," Steel went on. "And I camehere by arrangement. And there was everything as I see it now. Bell, youmust either cure me of this delusion, or you must prove logically to methat I have made a mistake. So far as I am concerned, I am like a childstruggling with the alphabet."
"We'll start now," said Bell. "Come along."
Steel rose none too willingly. He would fain have lingered with Ruth. Sheheld out her hand; there was a warm, glad smile on her face.
"May you be successful," she whispered. "Come and see me again, because Ishall be very, very anxious to know. And I am not without guilt.... Ifyou only knew!"
"And I may come again?" David said, eagerly.
A further smile and a warm pressure of the hand were the only reply.Presently Steel was standing outside in the road with Bell. The latterwas glancing at the house on either side of 219. The higher house waslet; the one nearest the sea--218--was empty. A bill in the window gavethe information that the property was in the hands of Messrs. Wallace andBrown, Station Quadrant, where keys could be obtained.
"We'll make a start straightaway," said Bell. "Come along."
"Where are you going to at that pace?" Steel asked.
"Going to interview Messrs. Wallace and Brown. At the present moment I ama gentleman who is in search of a house of residence, and I have aweakness for Brunswick Square in particular, especially for No. 218.Unless I am greatly mistaken I am going to show you something that willstartle even the most callous novelist."