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The Master Mummer, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Book 1 - Chapter 6 |
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_ BOOK I CHAPTER VI I certainly could not complain of any lack of interest on the part of my auditors. They listened to every word of my story with rapt attention. When I had finished they were both silent for several moments. Mabane eyed me curiously. I think that at first he scarcely knew whether to believe me altogether serious. "The man who was with the girl," Arthur asked at last--"this Major Delahaye, or whatever his name was--is he dead?" "He was alive two hours ago," I answered. "Will he recover?" "I believe that there is just a bare chance--no more," I answered. "He had a weak heart, and the shock was almost enough to kill him." "And your friend--the man who shot him--where is he?" Mabane asked. "Is he in custody?" I shook my head. "He disappeared," I answered, "as though by magic. You see, we were sitting at the table next the door, and he had every opportunity for slipping out unnoticed." "It was at the Cafe Grand, you said, wasn't it?" Arthur asked. I nodded. "How about the commissionaire, then?" "He saw the man come out, but he took no particular notice of him," I answered. "He crossed the street at an ordinary walking pace, and he was out of sight before the commotion inside began." "It seems to me," Mabane remarked, "that you must have found yourself in rather an awkward position." "I did," I answered grimly. "Of course my story sounded a bit thin, and the police made me go to the station with them. As luck would have it, however, I knew the inspector, and I managed to convince him that I was telling the truth, or I doubt whether they would have let me go. I suppose," I added, a little doubtfully, "that you fellows must think me a perfect idiot for bringing the child here, but upon my word I don't know what else I could have done. I simply couldn't leave her there, or in the streets. I'm awfully sorry--" "Don't be an ass," Arthur interrupted energetically. "Of course you couldn't do anything but bring her here. You acted like a sensible chap for once." "Have you questioned her," Mabane asked, "about her friends? If she has none in London, she must have some somewhere!" "I have questioned her," I answered, "but not very successfully. She appears to know nothing about her relations, or even her parentage. She has been at the convent ever since she can remember, and she has seen no one outside it except this man who took her there and came to fetch her away." "And what relation is he?" Allan asked. "None! He called himself simply her guardian." Arthur walked across the room for his pipe, and commenced to fill it. "Well," he said, "you are like the man in the Scriptures, who found what he went out for to see. You've got your adventure, at any rate. All owing to my advice, too. Hullo!" We all turned round. The door of the room was suddenly opened and closed. My host of a few hours ago stood upon the threshold, smiling suavely upon us. He wore a low black hat, and a coat somewhat thicker than the season of the year seemed to demand. Every article of attire was different, but his face seemed to defy disguise. I should have known Mr. Grooten anywhere. His unexpected presence seemed to deprive me almost of my wits. I simply gaped at him like the others. "Great heavens!" I exclaimed. "You here!" He stood quite still for a moment, listening. Then he glanced sharply around the room. He looked at Mabane, and he looked at Arthur. Finally he addressed me. "I fancy that I am a fairly obvious apparition," he remarked. "Where is the child?" "She is here," I answered, "in another room with our housekeeper just now. But----" "I have only a few seconds to spare," Mr. Grooten interrupted ruthlessly. "Listen to me. You have chosen to interfere in this concern, and you must take your part in it now. You have the child, and you must keep her for a time. You must not let her go, on any account. Unfortunately, the man who sold me that pistol was a liar. Delahaye is not dead. It is possible even that he may recover. Will you swear to keep the child from him?" I hesitated. It seemed to me that Grooten was taking a great deal for granted. "You must remember," I said, "that I have absolutely no legal hold upon her. If Delahaye is her guardian it will be quite easy for him to take her away." "He is not her legal guardian," Grooten said sharply. "He has no just claim upon her at all." "Neither have I," I reminded him. "You have possession," Grooten exclaimed. "I tell you that neither Delahaye, if he lives, nor any other person, will appeal to the law to force you to give the child up. This is the truth. I see you still hesitate. Listen! This also is truth. The child is in danger from Delahaye--hideous, unmentionable danger." I never thought of doubting his word. Truth blazed out from his keen grey eyes; his words carried conviction with them. "I will keep the child," I promised him. "But tell me who you are, and what you have to do with her." "No matter," he answered swiftly. "I lay this thing upon you, a charge upon your honour. Guard the child. If Delahaye recovers there will be trouble. You must brave it out. You are an Englishman; you are one of a stubborn, honourable race. Do my bidding in this matter, and you shall learn what gratitude can mean." Once more he listened for a moment intently. Then he continued. "I am followed by the police," he said. "They may be here at any moment. You can tell them of my visit if it is necessary. My escape is provided for." "But surely you will tell me something else about the child," I exclaimed. "Tell me at least----" He held out his hand. "You are safer to know nothing," he said quickly. "Be faithful to what you have promised, and you will never regret it." With almost incredible swiftness he disappeared. We all three looked at one another, speechless. Then from outside came the sound of light footsteps, and a laugh as from the throat of a singing bird. The door was thrown open, and Isobel entered. "Such a funny little man has just gone out!" she exclaimed. "He had a handkerchief tied round his face as though he had been fighting. What lazy people!" she added, looking around. "I expected to find tea ready. Will you please tell me some more about motor-cars, Mr. Arthur?" She sat on a stool in our midst, and chattered while we fed her with cakes, and screamed with laughter at Mabane's toast. The tragedy of a few hours ago seemed to have passed already from her mind. She was all charm and irresponsibility. The gaunt, bare room, which for years had mocked all our efforts at decoration, seemed suddenly a beautiful place. Easily, and with the effortless grace of her fifteen years, she laughed her way into our hearts. _ |
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