Kitabı oku: «Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter», sayfa 14

CHAPTER XXV.
SOME DAYS OF WAITING

Doctor Vaughan had written that he could find his way with ease to Nurse Hagar's cottage, and he did.

Swinging himself down upon the dark end of the platform, when the evening train puffed into Bellair village, he crossed the track, and walked rapidly along the path that led in the direction of the cottage. He strode on until the light from the cottage window gleamed out upon the night, and his way led over the field. Half way between the stile and the cottage, a form, evidently that of a woman, appeared before him, and coming in his direction.

The figure came nearer, and a voice, that was certainly not Madeline's, said: "Is the gentleman going to old Hagar's cottage?"

"Are you Hagar?" replied Clarence, Yankee fashion.

"I am Hagar; and you are?"

"Doctor Vaughan."

"Then pass on, sir; the one you seek is there."

And the old woman waved her hand toward the light and hobbled on.

Clarence stared after her for a moment; but the darkness had devoured her, and he resumed his way toward the cottage.

In hastening to meet a friend we naturally have, in our mind, a picture. Our friend will look so, or so. Thus with Clarence Vaughan. Expecting to meet a pair of deep, sad, beautiful eyes, lifted to his own; to behold a fair forehead shadowed by soft, shining curls; judge of Clarence's surprise when the opened door revealed to him a small being of no shape in particular; a very black head of hair, surmounted by an ugly maid's cap; and a pair of unearthly, staring blue glasses.

Madeline had chosen to appear "in character" at this interview. She intended to keep her own personality out of sight, and she felt that she needed the aid and concealment that her disguise would afford. She would give Claire's schemes no vantage ground.

So Madeline Payne was carefully hidden away under the wig and pigment and padding; and Céline Leroque courteseyed demurely as she held the door open to admit him, and said:

"Good evening, Monsieur le Docteur; you perceive I am here before you."

"Rather, I don't perceive it. You are here before me in a double sense of the word; yes. And I suppose you call yourself – "

"Céline Leroque, at your service; maid-in-waiting to Miss Arthur, of Oakley."

Doctor Vaughan laughed.

"Well, won't you shake hands with an American of no special importance, Céline Leroque?"

She placed her hand in his and then drew forward a chair.

"I hope you found no difficulty in getting out to-night?" he said, sitting down and looking at her with a half-amused, half-grave countenance.

"None whatever; I have been suffering with a sick-headache all day."

"And you can get in again unseen?"

"Easily; in the evening the servants are all below stairs."

"But what an odd disguise! Do they never question your blue glasses?"

"Not half so much as they would question the eyes without them. They believe my eyes were ruined by close application to fine needle-work. And then – " she pushed up the glasses a trifle, and he saw that the eyelid, and a line underneath the eye, were artistically rouged– "they all acknowledge that my eyes look very weak."

"I fancy they'll find those eyes have looked too sharply for them, by and by."

She laughed lightly. "I hope so."

Sitting there in her prim disguise, the girl felt glad to gaze upon him; felt as if, look as much as she would, she was gazing from a safe distance.

Dr. Vaughan came straight to the point of his visit, beginning by requesting a repetition of such portion of the facts she had discovered as related most particularly to the two men, Davlin and Percy. Then he made his suggestion. To his surprise it was a welcome one to the girl.

"That is just what I have had in mind," she said, thoughtfully. "After reflecting, I have changed my plans somewhat, and I don't see my way quite so clearly as before."

He was looking at her attentively, but asked no questions.

"Since I came from the city," she resumed, with some hesitation, "I have thought that I would be glad to talk again with all of you. But it won't do to incur the risk of more absences, for if I do not mistake the signs, things will be pretty lively up there," nodding in the direction of Oakley, "before many days. So perhaps we had better see what our two heads can develop in the way of counterplot, and you can make known the result to Olive."

"If your own invention will not serve, I fear mine will be at an utter loss. But you know how glad I shall be to share your confidence."

"My invention must serve," she said, firmly, and quite ignoring the latter clause of his speech; "and so must yours. You see, my plan before going to the city was a comparatively simple one. I intended to work my way into the confidence of Mrs. John Arthur. Failing in that, Hagar must have been reinstated, and then the denouement would have been easy: to get possession of specimens of the medicine prescribed for Mr. Arthur; to hunt down this sham doctor they are to introduce into the house; to show John Arthur the manner of wife he has; to make my own terms with him, and then expose and turn out the whole pack. But all this must be changed."

"Changed? And how?"

"I can't turn them out of Oakley. I must keep them there, every one of them, at any cost."

Dr. Vaughan looked puzzled. "We can't allow them to kill that old man, not even to vindicate poetical justice," he said, gravely.

"No; we can't allow just that. But don't you see, if we turn these people away now, we defeat a chief end and aim – the liberation of Philip Girard?"

"True."

"Well, this is why I have changed my plan."

He looked at her with an admiration that was almost homage.

"And you will give up your own vengeance, for the sake of Olive and her happiness?"

She laughed oddly. "Not at all. I only defer it, to make it the more complete. Now, listen to what I propose to do, and see if you can suggest anything safer or better."

And then she unfolded a plan that made Clarence Vaughan start in amazement, but which, after it was fully revealed, he could not amend nor condemn. He could see no other way by which all that they aimed at could be accomplished.

"Of course, the plan has its risks," concluded the girl. "But we could try no other scheme without incurring the same, or greater. And I believe that I shall not fail."

"I wish it were not necessary that you should undergo so much; think what it will be for you," gently.

"Oh, for me, …" indifferently; "I shall be less of a spy, and more of an actress, – that is all."

"Then I shall set the detectives at work?"

"Immediately."

"Have you any further instructions, any clue, to give them?"

"Nothing; it is to be simply a research. Neither must know to what end the information is desired. It will be better to employ your men from different Agencies, so that one may not know of the other, or his business."

"And is there nothing more I can do?"

"Nothing, for the present. When once we get these men together, we shall all have our hands full. Then you can help me, perhaps, as I suggested."

"Well," sighing, and looking at his watch, "it's a strange business, and a difficult, for a young girl like you. But we are in your hands; you are worth a thousand such as I."

"Nonsense," she said, almost angrily. Then, abruptly, "When does Claire return to Baltimore?"

He started and flushed under her gaze. "I – I really don't know."

"Then, as my brother, I command you to know all about Claire. She is my special charge to you. And you are to tell her, from me, that I won't have her go away."

"Then I must do all in my power to detain her? Your command will have more effect than all of my prayers," he said, softly.

"Well, keep on reiterating my commands and your prayers, then; by and by she won't be able to distinguish the one from the other. What time is it?"

He smiled at the sudden change of tone and subject. "Half-past nine," he said.

While the words were on his lips, Old Hagar entered.

Clearly it was time to end the interview. Doctor Vaughan must be ready for the return train, which flew cityward soon, and Céline Leroque must not be too long absent. So there were a few words more about their plans, a few courteous sentences addressed to Hagar by Doctor Vaughan, and then they separated.

The next day two men were at work, – following like sleuth hounds the trail on which they were put, unravelling slowly, slowly, the webs of the past that had been spun by the two men who were to be hunted down.

And now came a time of comparative dullness at Oakley. Even eventful lives do not always pace onward to the inspiring clang of trumpet and drum. There is the bivouac and the time of rest, even though sleeping upon their arms, for all the hosts that were ever marshalled to battle.

Céline Leroque found life rather more dreary than she had expected during these days of inaction. After all, it is easier to be brave than to be patient. So, in spite of her courage and her self-sacrifice, she was restless and unhappy.

And she was not alone in her restlessness. It is curious to note what diverse causes produce the same effects. Cora Arthur was restless, very restless. The fruit of her labor was in her hands, but it was vapid, tasteless, unsatisfying. What her soul clamored for, was the opera, the contact of kindred spirits, the rush and whirl, the smoke and champagne, and giddiness of the city; the card-won gold, and painted folly that made the be-all and end-all of life to such as she.

She did not lose sight of the usefulness she trusted to find in Céline Leroque, however. During these days of ennui and quietude, the two came to a very good understanding; not all at once, and not at all definite. Only, by degrees, Cora became convinced that Céline Leroque cherished a very laudable contempt for her would-be-girlish mistress, and that she was becoming rather weary in her service. Once, indeed, the girl had said, as if unable to restrain herself, and while dressing Mrs. Cora's yellow hair – a task which she professed to delight in:

"Ah! madame, if only it was you who were my mistress! It is a pleasure to dress a beautiful mistress, but to be constantly at war against nature, to make an old one young – faugh! it is labor."

And Cora had been much amused and had held out a suggestion that, in case of any rupture between mistress and maid, the latter should apply to her.

But if existence was a pain to Céline, and a weariness to Cora, it was anguish unutterable to Edward Percy. He would have been glad to put a long span of miles between his inamorata and himself had he not felt that, with Cora in the same house as his fair one, it were more discreet to be on the ground, and watch over his prey pretty closely. But to this man, who made love to every pretty woman as a child eats bon bons, the task of wooing where his eye was not pleased, his ear was not soothed, and his vanity not in the least flattered, was intensely wearisome.

CHAPTER XXVI.
NOT A BAD DAY'S WORK

The first thing that Doctor Vaughan did on returning from Bellair, was to seek an interview with Henry, the dark servant of Lucian Davlin.

It was a mixed motive that had first prompted Henry to espouse the cause of a helpless, friendless girl; a motive composed of one part inward wrath, long nourished, against the haughty and over-exacting Lucian, and one part pity for the young girl who, as his experienced eyes told him, was not such as were the women who had usually been entertained by his master.

He had expected to assist her to escape from the place, to enjoy his master's chagrin, and to see the matter end there. But Madeline's illness had changed the current of events, and strengthened his determination to stand her friend, if need be, more especially when Olive, pressing upon him a generous gift, had signified her wish that he should continue in Madeline's service. She had added that when he chose to leave his present master, she would see that he fell into no worse hands, for so long as the sick girl remained under that shelter, Olive felt that the man must be their servant, not Davlin's. And, to do him justice, Henry had long since become truly attached to the two ladies.

He lost no time in responding to the summons of Doctor Vaughan, and was eager to know of the welfare of the "young lady" and Mrs. Girard. Doctor Vaughan satisfied him on this point, and then said:

"I am authorized by Miss Payne to see you, and ask some questions that she thinks you may be able to answer. First, then," said the doctor, in his kindly manner, "how long have you been with your present master?"

"Nearly three years, sir."

"And how long has the woman whom he calls Cora been known to you?"

"She has been known to me all that time, sir," replied Henry.

"You first saw her in company with Davlin?"

"No, sir; she came to his rooms when I had been there but a few days, and ordered me about like a countess. I didn't know the ropes then, but she made me know my duty soon enough," dryly.

"Evidently, then, she and your master were friends of long standing, even at that time?"

"Yes, sir."

"You used to hear them talk often, I suppose?"

"I used to hear parts of their talks. They seemed not to care to have even so much of a machine as I, hear them at all times."

"Now, will you try and recall some of these fragments of talk? Think if you heard them speak of their travels, together or separately; and if you can recall the names of any persons or places they have mentioned."

Henry pondered. "I think," he said, after a time, "that they have been in Europe together. In fact, I am sure of it."

Doctor Vaughan started. "Oh! that is to the point. You don't recall any time mentioned?"

"No, sir. They used to talk of luck with the cards, and sometimes spoke of operas or plays, and almost always disagreed. Sometimes I would hear him describing men to her, and she seemed to be getting ready for a part in some 'game' that he was trying to play."

"Very likely."

"Once I heard them having high words about some old man that she had been fleecing, and he said that she had carried the thing too far; and that if she did not keep out of the old man's way, she might get into trouble. I heard the name," putting a forefinger to his forehead and wrinkling his brows; "it was – was – Verage; 'Old Verage,' she called him."

"Verage!"

"That was the name; I am sure, sir."

Clarence took out a note-book, and made an entry.

"When did this conversation take place?" he asked.

"Not more than two months before the young lady was brought there, sir."

"Ah!" Evidently a fresh glimmer of light had been thrown on the subject. "And you heard nothing more about this old man?"

"No, sir. I think she must have gone away from town at that time, for I did not see her again, until – " here Henry seemed to catch at some new thought.

"Until when?" asked Doctor Vaughan, with some eagerness.

"The day before the young lady came," said Henry, in a low tone, and moving a step nearer the doctor. "Madame Cora came dashing up in a close carriage, and she wore a heavy veil. I noticed that because she was rather fond of displaying her face and hair, and I hardly ever saw her wear anything that would hide them. She came up-stairs and ordered me to send a telegram, which she had already written, to my master. I sent it, and she stayed there all day. She sent me out for her meals, and I served them in the large room. She spent the most of the time in walking up and down – that was her way when she was worried or angry – and looking out between the curtains. My master answered the telegram, but when the midnight train came in, a man who went down in the country with him, a sort of tool and hanger-on of his, came to me while I was waiting below, and told me to tell Mistress Cora that the train was a few minutes late."

"Stop a moment. This man, who was Davlin's companion, – what was his name?"

"I never heard him called anything but 'The Professor.'"

"The Professor! And how did he look?" making another entry in the note-book.

"He was a middle-aged man, sir, not so tall as master, rather square in the shoulders, and stout built. He wore no beard, and was always smoking a pipe."

"Very good," writing rapidly. "Now, then, let us return to the lady."

"Well, sir, she was very impatient until my master came, and then they had a long talk. I heard him speak of the old man Verage again, and she seemed a little afraid, or annoyed, I don't know which. Then he seemed to be telling her of some new scheme, and there was a great deal of planning and some chaffing about her going into the country. Just at daybreak they sent me for a carriage, and she went away in it, closely veiled as before. He told her he would join her without fail. I have not seen her since. That same morning he brought the beautiful young lady to his rooms, and," smiling so as to show all his white teeth, "I think you know all the rest, sir."

Clarence nodded and then appeared lost in thought. Finally, he lifted his head from the hand that had supported it, and said:

"Since your master has returned to town, how does he employ his time?"

"Very much as usual."

"And that is in – "

"Gaming."

"Is it true, Henry, that the room below your master's apartments is fitted up for private gambling?"

Henry stirred uneasily, and looked his answer.

Doctor Vaughan smiled. "I see how it is," he said. "Well, then, this man, the Professor, do you see much of him of late?"

"A great deal, sir; he is very often with my master at his rooms, but they never go out together. They have had a great deal of privacy lately; something new is afoot."

"The man is a sort of decoy-duck, I fancy?"

"Yes; what the gamblers call a capper, or roper-in."

"Well, Henry, I think I won't detain you longer now. Take this," putting into his hand a twenty-dollar bill, "and keep your eyes and ears open. If your master leaves town, observe if the Professor disappears at the same time."

Henry expressed his gratitude and his entire willingness to keep an eye upon the doings of Mr. Davlin and the Professor, and bowed himself out, muttering as he went: "They will make it lively for my fine master before very long, and I think I am on the side that will win."

Meantime, Clarence Vaughan, quick in thought and action, was hurrying on his gloves preparatory to a sally forth on a new mission. Henry had given him a hint that might turn out of much value, for among the patients then on the young doctor's visiting list, was one Verage, old, ugly, and fabulously rich.

First of all, Clarence Vaughan called at the Agency which had been decided upon as the best one to entrust with the investigation relative to Mr. Edward Percy. He gave his man no clue to the present whereabouts of his subject, but set him back ten years or more, sending him to visit the scenes of school episode, and bidding him trace the life of the man, with the aid of such clues as he thought best to give, up to that time. Next, he visited another Agency, and placed a man upon the track of Lucian Davlin.

Then he called a carriage and drove straight to the residence of old Samuel Verage. It was early in the day for a professional visit or for a visit of any kind. Nevertheless, Doctor Vaughan was admitted without delay, to the presence of the master of the house.

Old Samuel Verage sat in his large, softly-cushioned armchair, in a gorgeously beflowered dressing gown.

He was glowering over the dainty dishes which had lately contained a bountiful breakfast. Evidently he fancied that the doctor had called in anticipation of a serious morning attack, or to choke off his too greedy appetite, for he chuckled maliciously as Clarence entered the room, and greeted him with,

"Oh! You thought you were ahead of me this time, didn't you? I say, now, did you think I would be worse this morning?"

Clarence surveyed his patient with considerable amusement.

"You won't suffer from a hearty breakfast. It is the supper that you must look out for. But my call this morning was, in part, to inquire about a lady."

"About a lady! Of course, of course; go ahead; who is she?"

"That's precisely what I want to know. The fact is, my business is rather peculiar, and delicate."

The old man rubbed his hands gleefully. "Good! very good! A mystery about a woman! Come out with it; don't be backward."

"Very well; the woman that I want to inquire about has been known as Cora Weston."

Old Verage fairly bounced out of his seat as he yelled: "Cora Weston! Where is she? What do you know about her?"

"Not quite enough, or I should not have ventured to inquire of you," said Clarence, calmly.

Old Verage tumbled into his chair again. "Then you don't know where she is?" sharply.

"What could you do if I put her in your power?"

"Lock her up in jail, if I wanted to," fiercely.

Little by little Clarence Vaughan extracted from the old man the details of the plausible scheme by which Davlin and Cora had succeeded in transferring a very considerable amount of cash from his pockets to their own. He felt elated at the result of this interview. It placed a weapon in his hands that might be wielded with telling effect when time served.

"Well, you may be able to get even with her yet," he said, rising to go, after Verage had concluded his tirade; "many thanks for giving me some information. I may be able to return the compliment soon."

"But hold on!" cried Verage, as if seized by a new thought; "I say, now, what is all this questioning about?"

"Some of her sharp practice has come to my knowledge, and she has made a little trouble for one of my friends. I want to know all that I can about her, for it may be necessary to put a stop to her career."

With a renewed expression of his thanks for the information given, Clarence bowed himself out of the old man's presence, with a sense of relief at inhaling the fresh, pure air of the outer world. Then he turned his steps homeward, assured that it had been a good day's work well done.