THE fainting fit which terminated my conversation with Evie alarmed me tremendously, and as soon as I could summon assistance I sent for a doctor. She came round before the medical man arrived, but I did not revert to the topic which had agitated her. Indeed, she appeared listless and disinclined to say a word on any subject. Colonel Maitland was less worried than myself, but even he was anxious until after the doctor had seen her and assured him that his daughter was merely suffering from over excitement, and that a sedative and a good night's rest would probably restore her completely.
I was not so sure that such would be the case, and when she had retired I thought it well to take the Colonel into his study and give him as full an account as I could of all that had led up to the fainting fit. He listened to my story with attention, and when I had done, though I could plainly see that he thought his daughter's fears were due to her own morbid fancy, yet he agreed with me that it would be well that she should have a change of scene at the earliest possible moment.
After arriving at this decision I determined to at once seek out Mannering, and demand from him some explanation of his conduct, for I could not conceive that Evie's story was entirely the outcome of her imagination. It was a delicate subject to discuss, yet I did not hesitate. I was in no humour to mince matters. My anger, though I had kept it well under control hitherto, only needed the slightest fanning to bring it to a white heat, and I longed whole-heartedly that Mannering would afford me some excuse for giving physical expression to my feelings.
I walked up to his front door, and knocked in a manner to denote with sufficient distinctiveness that the mood of the knocker was the imperative. I could see by the lights within that the inmates of the house had not retired to rest, but I had to repeat my summons before there was any response. Then I heard footsteps within, and the door opening an inch or two, a voice inquired who was there.
"Is Mr. Mannering in?" I demanded.
"Mr. Sutgrove, is it?" replied the voice, and upon my answering in the affirmative, the door was thrown open, and I saw the two maidservants standing in the hall.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said the parlourmaid. "We didn't expect any one at this time of night."
"That's all right," I answered. "Can I see Mr. Mannering?"
"He's gone away for a day or two, sir," said the girl.
"That's very sudden, isn't it?" I asked. "I saw him this afternoon."
"Yes, sir. He said nothing about it to us until after dinner. Then he packed his handbag and went away on his motor."
"It's a confounded nuisance," I remarked. "I wanted to see him on important business. Did he say where he was going?"
"He said Cromer, sir, but he did not leave any address." Then, after a momentary hesitation, she added, "Is—is anything wrong?"
I looked at her keenly. She dropped her eyes, and I could see there was something on her mind.
"What makes you ask?" I enquired.
"I—I don't know," she replied, with obvious embarrassment.
"There must be something or you would not have asked," I said encouragingly. "Come—out with it."
She still hesitated, but the housemaid was bolder. "I'll tell the gentleman if you don't, Sarah," she declared. "It's like this, sir," she rattled out volubly: "the master, Mr. Mannering that is, has been so queer in his ways lately that Sarah and me 'as been quite scared. Not that he 'asn't been quite the gentleman. He always was that, wasn't he, Sarah? But he's been that restless and bound up in himself lately—walking up and down in his room and talking to himself. He always was one to shut himself up in that nasty old coach-house with his experiments and things, but he was quiet, and we never took no account of it. But lately he's been different."
"How?" I asked.
"Well, instead of going to bed like a Christian he's up all hours of the night. It ain't only that. He slips out as if he didn't want us to see him, and when we've known he hasn't been at home we've found he's taken the trouble to tumble the bed to make it appear as how he slept in it."
"Pooh!" I remarked. "If that's all, my servants would probably say the same about me. You need not be alarmed about such trifles."
"But it's not all," said Sarah, taking up the story. "The nights he goes out are just the nights the Pirate makes his appearance."
"Those are just the nights I am away from home," I said.
"But you have the detective gentleman with you," argued the girl, "and when you come back I warrant you do not bring diamond studs back with you that don't belong to you."
"What!" I cried. "What!"
"It's truth, sir," said the housemaid. "A week ago, just after he came back from Paris, I was sweeping the floor of his bedroom, when I sweeps up a diamond stud. Now, I knew he never had such a thing——"
"I suppose you know exactly what jewellery he has?" I interrupted, laughing.
"He always was a very careless gentleman until the last month, before which he left his things lying about all over the place, but then he had a safe put in his bedroom, and he never so much as left the key lying about. However, I mentions the stud to Sarah, and we talks it over and puts two and two together, and Sarah thinks that if he doesn't ask what has become of it, it might be as well as if we told the detective gentleman about it."
"Quite right," I remarked. "You might let me look at the stud, though."
After a little pressing the girls fetched the trinket, and I perceived that it very closely resembled the stud Winter had worn on the night of our first encounter with the Pirate. I said nothing about this supposition to the maids, but bidding them to be careful not to mention the matter to any one until they had seen Forrest, whom I promised should call upon them, I left the house.
Though disappointed in my original intention of forcing an explanation from Mannering, I was by no means ill pleased with the result of my visit to his house. My suspicions as to his identity with the Pirate had become considerably stronger, and once that identity was established I fancied I should have little difficulty in preventing any further annoyance at his hands.
Yet when I came to think calmly upon the subject I could not fail to see how frail was the foundation upon which my suspicions were built up. The fancies of a girl, the suspicions of a couple of gossiping servants, and the discovery of a stud, which might or might not prove to be the one which had been stolen from Winter. I longed for Forrest to return, for I felt utterly incapable of resting, and as he had not put in an appearance by midnight, I got out my car and went into St. Albans to meet him. At the police station there was no news of him to be obtained, but I did learn that the Pirate had been seen, his presence having been reported from the vicinity of Bedford.
Knowing that it would be impossible for me to sleep until I had seen Forrest; knowing, too, how unlikely it was that he would now return to St. Albans before morning, I thought I might at least have one shot on my own account of bringing off the capture I so ardently desired. So, in case of an untoward accident happening, I scribbled a note to the detective, telling him briefly what I had heard from the servants, and my intentions; and making sure that my revolver was in working order, I bade my friends at the police-station good night, and departed.
I knew it would be useless to take the direct road to Bedford if I wished to meet the Pirate, and, as he had been reported going east, I took the route through Hertford, trusting that I might be able to cut him off upon his return. I gleaned nothing concerning him at either Hertford or Ware, and was so doubtful of proceeding further in that direction that I left it to the arbitrament of a coin to determine whether I should go on by a road with which I was unacquainted to Cambridge through Bishop's Stortford, or take a route I knew through Royston. The choice fell upon the Stortford road, and later I was glad I had taken it, for about a mile to the south of Stortford I discovered that I was upon the right track.
I was bowling along at about fifteen miles an hour when I came upon two horses grazing at the road-side. They galloped off at my approach, and, a few seconds later, I came upon a specimen of the Pirate's handiwork, which at first sight was irresistibly ludicrous. A brougham was drawn up at the side of the road, and, bound to the wheels, were a coachman and a footman, clad in gorgeous liveries. The coachman was fat and florid, the footman a particularly fine specimen of flunkeydom, and their faces, as the light of my lamps fell upon them—they could not speak, for they were both gagged as well as bound—were so convulsed with terror, that I could see they did not look upon me as a friend. As I dismounted from my car to go to their assistance, I heard a dismal wail from the roof of the vehicle and, looking up, I perceived a portly old lady perched upon the uncomfortable eminence.
I made an attempt to explain that my intentions were purely pacific, but as I could elicit nothing from the old lady but appeals to spare her life, I turned my attention to the two men, and speedily released them from their bonds. By the time they were loose they had realized that I was a friend; but it was some time before I managed to obtain from them an account of how they got into such a mess. Even when their powers of speech had returned they were unable to give a lucid account of the affair.
Of course it was the work of the Pirate. They had been returning with their mistress—the old lady on the roof of the brougham—from some local coming-of-age festivities, when they had met the rascal. He had bound the servants, set the horses free, and, after robbing the old lady of all the jewellery she wore, he had compelled her to climb to the position where I discovered her, threatening to return and kill her if she moved from her position for an hour. It needed much persuasion before she ventured to descend from her perch; but with the assistance of the coachman, I managed to get her inside the brougham, and further assisting in securing the two horses, I left them.
This incident delayed me for nearly half an hour, and it was a good deal past one before I again set out on my quest. The brougham had been stopped just near a bye-road, and as the footman had assured me that the Pirate had taken this path when he departed, I thought I would follow. I could see for myself that a motor-car had passed that way, for the thunderstorm of the previous day had left the roads heavy in places, and the marks of his tyres were plainly visible.
I had followed the road for about a couple of miles further when I came once more upon some of the Pirate's victims. These, too, were returning from the same function at which the old lady had been a guest, when they fell into the clutches of the Pirate. In this case my assistance was not required, for the two young ladies of the party had recovered sufficiently from their fright to have already set at liberty their male companion and the coachman. They told me of their experiences, and after I had heard them, I thought that Forrest's idea that the Pirate was a madman more likely than I had done previously.
When stopped by the Pirate, the husband of one of the ladies had shown fight until he had been felled by a blow from the butt end of a revolver. The coachman had discreetly made no resistance. Then, after securing the jewels the women wore, the Pirate had displayed a freakish humour quite new to his character. He had insisted upon the two women dancing for his amusement in the road, threatening to shoot the husband if they did not comply with his request. They assured me that he had sat chuckling with laughter, and urging them on with all sorts of wild threats, until they fell from exhaustion. They were splashed with mud from head to foot, and their dainty frocks presented a sorry sight. In addition they told me that they could barely stand, for their feet were cut to pieces, since, at the first steps of the weird dance, their slippers had stuck in the mud, and they were given no opportunity to stop and recover them.
I did not wait to hear more than the barest outline of the story, for I learned that he had left them not more than ten minutes before my arrival on the scene, and with the heavy roads, I thought there was at least a chance of some lucky accident bringing me face to face with my quarry.