All that in good time, my dear sir, calmly returned Cooper-Nassington. For the present it must be sufficient for you that I have a very real and vital stake in what you have found, and you had better treat me well over the business when I come to you again after you have deciphered the manuscripts, or youll live to regret the day I was born.
For a second the two men stood glaring at each other in angry defiance, but again I saw that the millionaire won. Whatever was the mysterious hold he had over the hunchback there was no doubt but that it was a very potent and a very effective one, and that, however much Zouche might kick and threaten, in the end he was bound to come to the others heel.
All right. Come to me in a fortnights time, he growled, and Ill see then what can be done. Dont fancy, though, that this business is simply fitting out a yacht with a party of Cornish miners and engineers and going to take possession of the loot.
I dont, said the Member of Parliament coolly; there are the Jesuits to reckon with.
Yes; but thats not the worst, retorted Zouche; there are others.
Others! cried the man in astonishment. What do you mean?
Well, first, who was the man that put you on the track of my discovery, eh? What, for instance, is the name or position of Mr Glynns employer?
In spite of myself I flushed and started. Should I now hear who Don José Casteno really was, if he were really a friend of Lord Cyril Cuthbertson, and why he was a resident at that home of mystery, St. Brunos. Alas! no. I was doomed to disappointment.
We decline to tell you, said my companion with great firmness.
I shall find out for myself, roared the dwarf.
Do, if you can, returned the man coolly. For the present, stick to the point we are discussing. Who else have we to fear?
The cut-throats who did this, snarled the hunchback, stepping quickly across the room and taking down a cloak from the walls. Then he spread the garment out on the table and indicated certain bullet holes in the back. They did this to me this afternoon as I walked homeward, he added. The shots came just as I was crossing Westminster Bridge. I searched everywhere for a sight of the man, who must have done it with some new-fangled air-gun. I could find none at all.
Nor is that all, he proceeded the next moment; just cast a glance in this direction, will you? He stumbled across the parlour to a point where stood an old oaken chest about two feet high, the lid of which he threw back with a bang. Do you see that fine mastiff in there? pointing to the shadowy form of a huge dog in the depths of the chest. Well, an hour ago he was poisoned. By whom? For what? I have lived here in this house, in this neighbourhood, for five and forty years and nothing of the sort has ever occurred before.
Ten minutes before your carriage rattled up I had another weird experience. Explain it if you can I cant. I was seated at this very table poring over one of those precious manuscripts, which I hide in a place practically inaccessible to anybody except myself, when I became conscious I was not alone. Somebody, I felt certain, had come mysteriously on the scene and was watching me intently. I glanced up suddenly, and found there, at that small casement window which opens on the street, and which is usually guarded by the shutter you now see placed in position, the face of a man. What do you want? I cried angrily, and darted across the room to fling the shutter back into position with all the force I could exert. But he was much too swift for me. With incredible rapidity he flung an envelope through the opening and darted off, and the shutter and window slammed together, as I intended, but with an empty bang. The scoundrel had escaped!
Well, by that time I was accustomed to surprises, and so I took up the envelope, which was of a cheap, inferior make, similar to those sold by small stationers in poor districts. It had no address upon it, but it was sealed. I tore it open, and found inside a piece of paper bearing this message. After fumbling behind an ornament on the mantelpiece he produced a slip that had been evidently torn out of some childs exercise book, and upon which was written in feigned handwriting to resemble a schoolboys:
Your secret is known. At the right moment I shall come to you and claim it for its lawful owner. Meanwhile, breathe not a word to a soul as you value your property and your life.
Of course, added the hunchback, with a shrug of the shoulders, all this sounds the merest melodrama, and so it may be. But you and I know quite enough of the importance of those manuscripts to understand how many rich and extraordinary personages in England, in Spain, in Mexico have the keenest interest in their contents, their recovery, and their translation. Your Lord Cyril Cuthbertson, for one, shot out Zouche, glancing at the millionaire with eyes full of meaning, yet bright with the springs of his own hidden resentment.
The Member of Parliament bit his lip. Maybe, maybe, he said, but I could see the shot went home and that inwardly he was much perturbed. Still, you must do your best, thats all. Personally, I should say it is your friend, Lord Fotheringay, who feels he cant trust you, but, really, it is your lookout. Come along, Glynn. And he led the way impatiently down the passage, and, before the dwarf could say another word, he had hurried me out into Tufton Street, which seemed still to be as deserted as the grave.
As we stepped out we heard the door close behind us; and, remembering the mysterious letter which Don José had instructed me to hand to Lord Cuthbertson in the case of certain eventualities, I resolved on a bold step of my own.
Why, said I suddenly to my companion, do you fear the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs getting wind of this discovery of yours?
Never shall I forget the effect of this apparently innocent question of mine!
Never!
Chapter Seven.
In Stanton Street
Why am I afraid that the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs may get wind of the discovery of those manuscripts which locate the exact whereabouts of the Lake of Sacred Treasure in Mexico? repeated the Member of Parliament fiercely; and he came to a dead stop at the corner of the turning into Peter Street.
For the best of all reasons, he snapped. He is the one man in the world I hate with all the force I am capable of. He has proved himself my evil genius. In politics, in preferment, in marriage he has beaten me every time we have come into conflict; and if he could only recover this possession for England for, as you will find, this lake really belongs to this country and not to Mexico or to Spain or to the Jesuits he would make himself that great, popular hero he is ever striving to become. How? you ask. In the most simple fashion. He would merely use all those millions that are to be recovered from its depths as baits for the electors, baits for payers of income-tax, men who drink spirits, enthusiasts about old-age pensions, better houses for the poor. Indeed, there is no end to the crazy ambition of this pinchbeck Napoleon. He lives simply to become the idol of the mob in such a way as Englands history with all her Gladstones, her Beaconsfields, and other political leaders of real note, has never known never. Even the popularity of the throne is not safe with so terrible a pride as his! He cares nothing for any personage or any institution. His one colossal lust is to lift himself so high that no man shall be his equal, but that his word shall travel through the Empire with a power which Bismarck never aimed at and even the German Emperor has never felt competent to aspire to.
I know the man like nobody else does in the House. Once we were friends before appeared the inevitable woman. I was his one confidant. We occupied the same house; we sat side by side, night after night, over the dinner-table, building the same castles in the air; but, as we laid our plans, and he waxed strong, the power to will and to achieve in this muddy, political life of England came also to me. Hence, while we quarrelled and hated like only one-time bosom companions can, we have ever carried on a terrific underground fight which has been all the more deadly because it was hidden. Few expected it; and none of the fools around me ever realised that a humble, insignificant member like myself was hugging the idea of the eventual overthrow of this wonderful strong man, who had risen up, phoenix-like, from the ashes of a dismembered and distrusted party in the State and had brought back to Parliament the misty legend of a leader who directed the attack by the sheer magic of his own inherent will.
But there! added Mr Cooper-Nassington, suddenly changing his tone as, away in the distance, he caught the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. I am sure I dont know why I ramble on like this to you. After all, those manuscripts are the real object of our expedition, arent they? and in regard to them I suppose we have done the best that could be done in such a bewildering set of circumstances. You had better return now to the man who sent you and report to him all that has transpired since you fetched me out of the House. He will understand, particularly if you add two words to your narrative.
Yes, said I eagerly; and what must those be?
In reparation, he returned, in reparation. And, signalling to a belated hansom, he held out his hand to me.
Good-night, Mr Glynn, he said; I have trusted you to-night more than anybody else in my life. I cant tell you why, but I have, and I am sure you will not make use of anything I have said to my disadvantage. Doubtless, we shall meet again over this strange, wild quest. If we do nay, whatever happens remember I am your friend; but for your actual employer I repeat I have only one message, in reparation! And, squeezing my hand, he sprang into the cab, crying to the driver: Ashley Gardens. The next instant the cab had gone and I had started to find my way home on foot.
Unfortunately, that was not destined to be the last of my adventures that night, although I was tired and worn by the stirring scenes I had passed through. I dont think Mr Cooper-Nassington had left me a minute before I was conscious of that ugly sensation of being followed. At first I tried to believe it was a mere phantom of my imagination that my nerves had got a trifle upset by the things which the hunchback had shown to us in the way of tricks that had been played upon him since he had obtained those manuscripts.
Thus I didnt attempt to look behind me, but went on my way whistling merrily, making the pavements re-echo with my noisy steps, for by that time the streets were practically empty. All the same, I couldnt rid myself of my suspicion that I was being shadowed, and, finally, feeling that the chase was getting intolerable, I decided on a rather curious ruse. I had reached Westminster Bridge, and, walk to near the centre, suddenly stopped and turned my face towards the swirling waters that were eddying past the buttresses beneath.
Next instant I staggered back in the fickle light of the lamp, and, throwing my coat off my shoulders, cried in a muffled, stifled kind of voice: Ah! I can bear it no longer. I must do it. Good-bye, good-bye. And with a frantic bound I leaped on to the parapet by the aid of a lamp-post and threw my arms upward with a wild, convulsive movement, as though the next second must be my last, and that I had but to take one downward glance to hurl myself into the turgid torrent beneath.
Just as I expected, my pursuer rushed pell-mell into the trap that I had baited for him. No sooner did he catch a glimpse of what he thought were my preparations for a sudden and effective suicide than he instantly abandoned all pretence of concealing his presence, darted out of the shadows in which he had been lurking, and raced as swiftly as a greyhound towards me and caught me by the sleeve and dragged me backward.
You fool, he cried, what are you up to now? And in a flash I recognised who it was Detective-Inspector Naylor.
With a quick spring I reached the pavement again and turned a face full of merriment towards the officer.
Ah, said I, picking up my coat, so it was you who was stalking me, was it? I thought my little trick would fetch you much more rapidly and effectively than if I had turned round and tried to pick you up. Now, whats your game dogging my footsteps, eh? You dont think Im a young monk who has got spoiled in the making, do you? No; youve some deeper, deadlier design than that, so you might as well own up at once.
I cant, he returned, and his face, now he realised how I had duped him, was a study in rage and mortification. I I am out on business just as much as you are. You play your hand, Ill play mine. Only take care what you are up to thats all. When we at Scotland Yard take up a case we usually make some inquiries into the good faith and past history of our clients. Its a pity you dont do the same. Good-night. And with a nod full of meaning he strolled off towards the embankment, leaving me to digest his enigmatic remark in silence and alone.
With a good-humoured laugh I took my way homeward and tried to shake off the effects of his ominous words, which, I own, caused me a certain amount of disquietude, for, after all, I hadnt a ghost of an idea then as to the real identity or object of Don José Casteno. For a time, I own, I felt rather fearful. But first one thing and then another engaged my attention. For instance, I had to find out whether I was still being followed. I decided I was not. I had also to dodge the human night-bird of London intent on rows or alms. Finally, by the time I had reached Trafalgar Square the ill effects of the detectives warning had quite disappeared. All I thought of was a good nights rest, to be followed by another ride on my motor car to Hampstead, and another entrance to that mysterious home of the Order of St. Bruno.
When, however, I reached the street in which my offices were situate I was surprised to see the thoroughfare presented anything but its usual drab and sombre appearance. Something extraordinary was certainly in progress therein. Instead of the place being deserted and silent like the neighbouring streets, no fewer than three carriages with flashing lamps and horses in glittering harness were drawn up by one side of the curb, and near a door stood quite a group of footmen, and loafers and policemen drawn thither by the unusual assemblage.
As I got nearer I was even more surprised to find that this strange gathering was centred round the door of my own offices, which I was stupefied to see were brilliantly lit up. What on earth can have happened? I gasped, and, quickening my steps, I half ran towards the tiny crowd gathered round the door, which seemed somehow to be expecting me, and gave way instinctively at my approach.
Another moment and I had thrust open my office door. The place was half filled by tobacco smoke, but through the mist I was astounded to see three persons had calmly seated themselves in my room to await my return Lord Fotheringay, Colonel Napier, and a stranger who, as he turned his determined but forbidding looking features upon me, I recognised instantly as Lord Cyril Cuthbertson, His Majestys Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.