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The Lighted Way, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Chapter 27. The Letters In The Safe |
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_ CHAPTER XXVII. THE LETTERS IN THE SAFE The arrival of Arnold, accompanied by Mrs. Weatherley, created a mild sensation in Tooley Street. Mr. Jarvis, fussier than ever, and blinking continually behind his gold-rimmed spectacles, followed them into the private office. "You have heard nothing of Mr. Weatherley?" Arnold asked. "Not a word," the cashier answered. "We have rung up several more places and have tried the hospitals again. We were all hoping that Mrs. Weatherley had brought us some news." She shook her head. "Mr. Weatherley left home exceedingly early this morning," she announced. "I believe that it was before half-past seven. Except that he called at the house in Hampstead for the letters, I have not heard of him since." "It is most mysterious," Mr. Jarvis declared. "The governor--I beg your pardon, Mr. Weatherley--is a gentleman of most punctual habits. There are several matters of business which he knew awaited his decision to-day. You will excuse me, madam, if I ask whether Mr. Weatherley seemed in his usual health when he left this morning?" Fenella smiled faintly. "Have I not already told you," she said, "that he left the cottage in the country, where we spent the week-end, before half-past seven this morning? Naturally, therefore, I did not see him. The servants, however, noticed nothing unusual. Last night Mr. Chetwode here was with us, and he can tell you what was apparent to all of us. Mr. Weatherley seemed then in excellent health and spirits." Mr. Jarvis had the air of a man hopelessly bewildered. Excellent servant though he was, nature had not bestowed upon him those gifts which enable a man to meet a crisis firmly. "Can you suggest anything that we ought to do, madam?" he asked Mrs. Weatherley. "I think," she replied, "that Mr. Chetwode has something to tell you." Arnold took the key of the safe from his pocket and turned to the cashier. "A few days ago, Mr. Jarvis," he said slowly, "Mr. Weatherley placed certain documents in that safe and gave me the key. My instructions from him were to open and examine them with you, if he should be, for any unexplained cause, absent from business." Mr. Jarvis looked blankly incredulous. "Goodness gracious!" he murmured weakly. "Why, that looks almost as though he expected something of the sort to happen." "I think," Arnold continued, "that as it is now past three o'clock, and Mr. Weatherley is still absent, we had better open the safe." He crossed the room as he spoke, fitted the key in the lock, and swung the door open. Mrs. Weatherley and the cashier looked over his shoulder. There were only the two letters there. One was addressed to Messrs. Turnbull & James, Solicitors; the other jointly to Mr. Jarvis and Mr. Arnold Chetwode. [Illustration: Mrs. Weatherley and the cashier looked over his shoulder. _Page 259_.] "There is nothing there for me?" Mrs. Weatherley asked, incredulously. "There is nothing at all," Arnold replied; "unless there may be an enclosure. Mr. Jarvis, will you open this envelope?" Mr. Jarvis took it to the desk and broke the seal with trembling fingers. He smoothed the letter out, switched on the electric reading light, and they all read it at the same time. It was written in Mr. Weatherley's familiar hand, every letter of which was perfectly distinct and legible. This is a record of certain instructions which I wish Firstly--The business is to continue exactly as usual, Secondly--I have deposited a power of attorney at my Thirdly--I have the most implicit confidence in Henry Fourthly--I repeat that I desire as little publicity as Fifthly--I desire you to pay to my wife the sum of five
"This is the most extraordinary document I ever read in my life!" he exclaimed. "Why, it seems as though he had gone away somewhere of his own accord. After all, it can't be an accident, or anything of that sort." Neither Arnold nor Mrs. Weatherley made any immediate reply. She pointed to the letter. "When did he write this?" she asked. "Last Thursday," Arnold replied; "less than a week ago." She sighed softly. "Really, it is most mysterious," she said. "I wonder whether he can have gone out of his mind suddenly, or anything of that sort." "I have never," Mr. Jarvis declared, "known Mr. Weatherley to display so much acumen and zest in business as during the last few days. Some of his transactions have been most profitable. Every one in the place has remarked upon it." Mrs. Weatherley took up the lace parasol which she had laid upon the office table. "It is all most bewildering," she pronounced. "I think that it is no use my staying here any longer. I will leave you two to talk of it together. You have doubtless much business to arrange." "Are you going back to Bourne End or to Hampstead?" Arnold asked. She hesitated. "Really, I am not quite sure," she replied, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I am beginning to find the heat in town insufferable. I think, perhaps, that I shall go to Bourne End." "In that case," Arnold said, "will you allow me to see you there to-night?" "To-night?" she repeated, as though in surprise. "Without a doubt." She did not answer him for a moment. Meanwhile, the telephone rang, and Mr. Jarvis was presently engrossed in a business conversation with a customer. Arnold lowered his voice a little. "Our discussion at luncheon was only postponed," he reminded her. "We have seen these documents. We know now that Mr. Weatherley had some reason to fear an interruption to his everyday life. Directly or indirectly, that interruption is connected with certain things of which you and I have spoken together. I am going to ask you, therefore, to keep your promise. I am going to ask you to tell me everything that you know." "Are you not afraid," she asked, "that I shall consider you a very inquisitive young man?" "I am afraid of nothing of the sort," Arnold replied. "Mr. Weatherley's disappearance is too serious a matter for me to take such trifles into account." She pointed to the letter which still lay upon the table. "Is it not his expressed wish that you should make no effort towards solving the reasons for his disappearance?" "There is no reason," Arnold answered, doggedly, "why one should not attempt to understand them." Mr. Jarvis had finished his telephoning. Fenella went up to him with outstretched hand. "Mr. Jarvis," she said, "there is nothing more I can do here. I am very much upset. Will you take me out to my car, please? I know that you will do the very best you can without Mr. Weatherley, and I am glad that you have Mr. Chetwode to help you. I would come down myself sometimes," she added, "but I am sure that I should only be in the way. Good afternoon, Mr. Chetwode." "You have not answered my question," he persisted. She looked at him as a great lady would look at a presuming servant. "I see no necessity," she replied. "I am too much upset to receive visitors to-day. If you are ready, Mr. Jarvis." She left the room without even a backward glance, closely followed by the cashier. Arnold stood looking after the retreating figures for a moment, then he turned away with a hard little laugh. Once more he read and re-read Mr. Weatherley's letter. Before he had finished, Mr. Jarvis came bustling back into the room. "Well!" he exclaimed, dramatically. "Well!" Arnold looked across at him. "It's a queer business, isn't it?" he remarked. "Queer business, indeed!" Mr. Jarvis repeated, sitting down and wiping his forehead. "It's the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of in my life. One doesn't read about such things even in books. Mrs. Weatherley seems to take it quite calmly, but the more I think of it, the more confused I become. What are we to do? Shall we go to the police or write to the newspapers? Can't you suggest something?" Arnold finally laid down the letter, which he now knew pretty well by heart. "It seems to me, Mr. Jarvis," he said, "that the thing for us to do is to obey orders. Mr. Weatherley expressly writes that he wishes us to take his absence, so far as possible, as a matter of course, and to look after the business. The very fact that he puts it like that makes it quite clear to me that he intends to return. My idea is that we should follow the lines of his letter strictly." "You are quite right, Chetwode," Mr. Jarvis decided. "I feel exactly that way about the matter myself. We'll go right ahead with those orders now, then, and we can have a chat about the matter again after business hours, if you don't mind. It's hard to reconcile oneself to taking this so easily, but I suppose it's the only thing to do. I'll get out in the warehouse now. You had better send that note round to Turnbull's by express messenger, and ring up Yardley's about the American contracts." Mr. Jarvis bustled away. Arnold himself found plenty to do. The business of Messrs. Weatherley & Company must go on, whatever happened. He set himself sedulously to make his mind a complete blank. It was not until the offices were closed, and he turned at last westwards, that he permitted himself even to realize this strange thing that had happened. On that first walk was born an impulse which remained with him for many weeks afterwards. He found himself always scanning the faces of the streams of people whom he was continually passing, on foot and in vehicles, half expecting that somewhere among them he would catch a glimpse of the features of the lost Mr. Weatherley. _ |
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