WE were soon out of the narrow Soho street, and I observed that the time was just half-past ten as Winter steered us carefully through Piccadilly Circus. Colonel Maitland occupied a seat behind while I sat beside Winter.
The car my friend drove was a magnificent 22-horse Daimler, built to his own specification and capable of doing considerably more than any car I had hitherto been privileged to ride upon. Of course while passing through the streets there was little chance of exhibiting its capabilities. Yet even there, the way the car glided in and out of the traffic, delicately responsive to the slightest touch of the steering wheel, was sufficient evidence of its quality to set the most nervous passenger at ease. As it was as yet too early for the after theatre traffic to fill the streets and compel us to stop every few minutes, we followed the main road up Oxford Street as far as the Marble Arch. There we turned to the right. Once clear of the narrow part of the Edgeware Road, Winter put on his second speed and a very few minutes seemed to have passed before we were bumping over a rough bit of roadway by Cricklewood.
"There's not much of this," said Winter, cheerily over his shoulder to the Colonel.
Our gastronomic friend merely grunted for reply, and I should have thought him to be asleep had not the red glow of his cigar assured me that he was still awake.
Winter jammed on his third speed and the hedges began to fly past us. We were in the country now and were able to appreciate the fineness of the night. Indeed it was a perfect night. The air was sharp but without sting. The moon shone with a clear brilliance which betokened rain in the near future. The road was clean and dry, and there was no dust in the air except the thin cloud which floated behind us. We passed the Welsh Harp without a check, and not until we reached Edgeware did Winter revert to his second speed. We ran through the little town with only momentary slackening of pace, and so we sped onwards until we opened the stretch of road leading to Brockley Hill. Here Winter, seeing the road clear ahead, jammed on his highest speed and the wheels droned like a hive of bees as we darted towards the incline. We were half way up the hill before Winter found it necessary to transform his speed into power, and we finished the ascent with ease. Then once more the order was third speed, and we whirled away through Elstree and passed through Radlett a bare half hour from the time we started.
Just at this time I looked back to see how Colonel Maitland fared. His cigar no longer glowed, though it was still tightly held between his teeth. His head was bent forward, and the regular and gentle murmur which came from his nose proclaimed that he slept. I had just mentioned the fact to Winter, and had turned again to assure myself that he was comfortably wrapped in his rug, when I thought I saw on the road behind me another car.
"Hullo!" I said to Winter. "There's another chap coming on behind us. Without lights, too!"
A slight bend in the road shut out the view, however, and made me doubt whether or no my eyes had been deceiving me.
"Pooh!" replied Winter. "We've passed nothing on the road, and at the pace we've been travelling there's not another car owned in this district we should not have left miles behind us, even if it had started at the same time as ourselves. You must have mistaken some of the shadows from the trees. How much of that port did you drink?"
I laughed, but as we had now reached a straight stretch of road I looked back again.
"I'm right," I said. "There is another car, and by jove! It's coming up hand over fist."
"What?" shouted Winter. "What?"
He clearly did not appreciate the idea of being overtaken by any one, for he whipped on his highest speed and jammed down the accelerator. The change was enormous. Our powerful car, relieved from all restraint, simply leaped through the air. Winter gave a pleased laugh as he steadied her with the wheel.
"If the stranger can catch us now I shall believe it's the Motor Pirate himself," he remarked in a pleased tone, that showed how proud he was of his own car.
Our progress was so exhilarating that I wanted to shout defiance to the stranger; yet I was so fascinated with the pace we were travelling, that I could not take my eyes from the road which uncoiled before us.
Suddenly a humming sound forced itself upon my ear. For a moment I thought it was due to the whirr of our own wheels. Then it struck me that the note was a higher one. I half turned. The other car was within a yard or two of us. In another second it was level and, running without any visible vibration, indeed, without any noise save the snore of the wheels as they raced round, the stranger slackened speed and ran by our side.
Winter cast a hasty glance at the strange car, and I saw him bite his lip with annoyance at finding his Daimler so outpaced.
One glance at the stranger was enough to tell me with whom we had to deal. In the brilliant moonlight, the boat-shaped car with its sharp prow, the almost invisible wheels, the masked occupant, assured me that the evening papers had not been the victims of a hoax.
"It's the Motor Pirate himself," I said to Winter, and my voice was hoarse with excitement.
"Motor Pirate be d——d!" replied Winter. What more he would have said I do not know, for at this moment the stranger turning his mask towards us called out in the most urbane manner—
"I must trouble you gentlemen to stop that car."
Winter at the best of times is of rather a peppery disposition, and whenever any one requires him to pull up, his temper invariably gets the better of his manners. His reply was an unnecessarily verbose, and needlessly forcible negative.
I heard the stranger chuckle. "I really must trouble you to obey my wishes," he replied, with ironic courtesy. "Otherwise I shall be compelled to do some damage to that car of yours, a proceeding I always try to avoid if possible."
"Do what you please," was in effect Winter's luridly adjectived answer.
"If you do not pull up within thirty seconds your fate will be upon your own heads," said the stranger, shortly, as he laid his hand upon a lever.
His car leapt away from ours, and though we were running nearly sixty miles an hour, we might have been standing still, he dropped us so rapidly. In fifteen seconds he had vanished in a cloud of dust ahead.
"I'm going to stop," said Winter, abruptly. He suited the action to the word, and none too soon.
Again we heard the curious drone of the strange car as it swooped down upon us, coming to a sudden halt a yard distant, with really beautiful precision.
"What do you want?" shouted Winter, in his gruffest tones.
"I'm glad to find you have had the wisdom to do as I desired you," said the Motor Pirate; for it was indeed he with whom we were now face to face. "It would have deeply grieved me to wreck so good a car as that you have there. A Daimler, I believe?"
"Oh, d——n your compliments! What is it you want?" growled Winter.
"Merely any articles of jewellery and any money you may happen to have about you," remarked the stranger, pleasantly.
I saw the moonlight glitter on the barrel of a revolver as he spoke, and he now lifted the weapon and pointed it towards us.
"I do not wish to proceed to extremities, and, as I gather from your speech that I am dealing with gentlemen"—really Winter's language had fully warranted the sarcasm—"if you will give me your word of honour that you will hand over to me all articles of value in your possession, I will leave your car untouched. If, on the contrary, you decline to oblige me, I shall be under the disagreeable necessity of ruining that very handsome car you are driving. I do not like to hurry you, but I am afraid I must ask you to come to a speedy decision on the matter, for these roads in the vicinity of London are not quite so secluded as one of my profession could wish."
He delivered this speech with an air of mock politeness, which made Winter writhe. He did not, however, reply. I think he was too angry.
"Come, gentlemen! Make up your minds. Your money or your—car!"
He made a slight pause before he said the word "car," and his fingers played with the revolver in a manner that sent a cold shiver down my spine.
"It's his turn now," I whispered to Winter. "It may be ours presently."
"Come, come, gentlemen!" said the stranger again; "do you give me your words?"
"D——n you! I suppose we must," jerked out Winter, almost inarticulate with rage.
"Each of you will dismount in turn and lay the contents of your pockets before me here." He indicated a level shelf, which formed apparently part of the casing of one of the wheels. "I must insist upon seeing the linings of your pockets; and I need hardly warn you that it will be extremely undesirable for you to make any movement liable to misconstruction. This toy"—he lifted his pistol—"has a very delicate touch. Now, gentlemen. One at a time, please, and do not wait to discuss the question of precedence. I am quite willing to overlook any little informality."
I listened closely to his speech, but the voice was so muffled by the mask he wore, that I felt I should be unable to recognize it again. Only one point I was assured upon—that the Pirate was an educated man.
Meanwhile what were we to do? All sorts of wild plans were darting through my brain, and I knew that Winter's mind must be equally active. But out of the medley no coherent scheme took shape. Winter dismounted, and, throwing off his overcoat, advanced into the brilliant circle of light cast by our lamps, and proceeded to empty his pockets. He laid his note-case, his watch and chain, and sovereign-purse upon the car in front of the highwayman, and, in obedience to a further command, added the diamond which shone upon his little finger, and another which adorned his shirt-front, to the pile. Then he resumed his place in the car, and I passed through a similar humiliating ordeal. All the while the stranger kept up a flow of apologies for the inconvenience which his necessities compelled him to occasion us. I kept silence, though I must confess the effort was a considerable strain upon my temper. Still, a pistol with a business man at the butt end of it, is of considerable assistance in preventing the exhibition of annoyance.
"If the other gentleman will make haste, I shall be the sooner able to relieve you of my unwelcome society," the Pirate remarked, as I returned to our car after handing over all the valuables in my possession.
In the excitement, I had, until this moment, entirely forgotten the presence of Colonel Maitland; and now, looking closely at him, I discovered that he was still in happy ignorance of the contretemps which had befallen us. Swathed in rugs, he was propped up on the seat behind us slumbering peacefully. A smile was upon his rosy face, and ever and again he smacked his lips. He must have been dreaming of a finer vintage than ever terrestrial vineyard produced.
"What the deuce can we do?" I asked Winter.
"Hullo, Colonel!" shouted my friend.
"What's the matter?" inquired the Pirate. "Does your friend refuse to acknowledge the compact?"
"I'm afraid he can hardly be said to be a party to it," I replied. "He has dined, and now he sleeps."
"Well, you will awaken him less roughly than I shall," was the retort.
"Any one who knows Colonel Maitland is aware that he is exceedingly annoyed if awakened from his after-dinner nap," I urged.
"Colonel Maitland? Colonel Maitland the gourmet?"
"You know him?" said Winter.
The Pirate laughed pleasantly. "I have met him on one occasion, and, as some slight return for a very excellent dinner which he ordered, and for which—doubtless by an oversight—he left me to pay, I will not trouble you to awaken him on this occasion. I wish you good evening, gentlemen."
As he finished speaking he backed his car for a few yards. His hand moved to a lever. The car turned. He waved the hand which was disengaged, and in a moment he was gone, attaining at once a speed, which, until then I had thought it impossible for a motor-car ever to achieve.
Both Winter and I sat stock still, gazing after the fast disappearing car. We could not watch it for long; as in fifteen seconds it was out of sight, and even the dust-cloud it had raised in its progress had cleared.
Then Winter turned to me and muttered a few expletives gently in my ear. I followed his example and we both felt better, at least I think so; for, without rhyme or reason, Winter burst into a fit of laughter, and I followed his example, though I cannot explain now, any more than I could have done then, why I laughed.
When we had done laughing, Winter turned to me and said—
"Sutgrove, old fellow, would you mind punching me? I'm not quite sure whether it is the Colonel who is asleep or myself. I feel as if I have just awakened from dreaming of the story those newspapers printed."
"It's not much of a dream," I remarked. "I little thought that we were to have the good fortune of so early an introduction to the Motor Pirate, however. The Colonel will be quite cross to think that his bottle of port prevented the renewal of an old acquaintance."
Then Winter laughed again. I think he saw the amusing side of our adventure more clearly than I did, for I said sharply—
"Hadn't we better be getting on to St. Albans, and giving information to the police?"
"H—m—m!" he answered meditatively. "I think perhaps we had better not."
"Not?" I replied in surprise.
"In the first place it is after dinner," he said.
"What of that? We dined wisely."
"One of us knows nothing about it." Winter jerked his thumb in the direction of the slumbering warrior. "We could hardly explain the reason why the Colonel slept so soundly through the adventure. The explanation could hardly please him, would it?"
I muttered an assent.
"Besides," continued Winter, "for three of us to admit that we tamely allowed ourselves to be held up by one man, and forced to hand over to him all our valuables, well it—er—it hardly seems heroic, does it? That wouldn't create a very favourable impression upon Miss Maitland either."
I was compelled to agree with him.
"I think perhaps we had best keep the matter to ourselves. I have no desire to provide another sensation for the evening papers to-morrow."
"At any rate I'm not going to sit down quietly under my loss if you are," I responded irritably.
"That's another matter altogether," replied Winter, as he set our car in motion once more. "I did not say that I was going to grin and bear it either."
"What do you propose?" I cried eagerly.
"That is a question we will discuss over a whisky and soda, when we have deposited the Colonel safely at home;" and he refused to say anything further.
Our car was once more put at full speed, and in five minutes we reached the cross-roads on the outskirts of St. Albans, where the road to Watford makes a junction with that on which we had come from town. Here Winter pulled up, and, much to my surprise, dismounted and made a careful examination of the road by the light of our lamps.
"I just want to see in which direction the fellow went," he answered, in reply to my inquiry as to the meaning of his action.
He was still engaged on the task when we heard in the distance the regular beat of a petrol motor approaching us on the Watford road.
"If it's another pirate, he won't get much plunder," I remarked.
"That's no pirate," replied Winter, as a couple of lights came into view. "Cannot you recognize the rattle of Mannering's old car? I should know it anywhere. He will be able to tell us if any one has passed him on the road."
As soon as the new-comer came within range of his voice, Winter hailed him.
"That you, Mannering?"
"Hullo, Winter! Got a puncture? Can I be of any assistance?"
Was it indeed Mannering's voice, or were my ears deceiving me? The intonation was remarkably like that of the stranger, who so short a time previously had bade us stand and deliver, that I sprang to my feet with an exclamation of astonishment. My eyes at once convinced me that my ears had played me false. There was no mistaking Mannering's lumbering old car for the graceful shape of the Motor Pirate's vehicle. I resumed my seat, taking my nerves seriously to task for generating the suspicion, if suspicion it could be called, which had flashed across my mind. If anything further had been needed to dispel it, the reply vouchsafed to Winter's query as to whether he had met any one on the road would have done so.
"Met any one?" said Mannering; "I should think I have. Met the most wonderful motor I've ever seen, about a couple of miles back. 'Pon my soul, I'm not sure even now whether it was not a big night bird, for it just swooped by me with about as much noise as a humming-top might make. It must have been travelling eighty miles an hour at least. Reckless sort of devil the driver must be too. He hadn't a single light. I suppose his lamps must have been put out by the rapidity with which he was travelling. Never had such a scare in my life. I'd like to meet the Johnny. I'd welcome an opportunity of telling him what I thought of his conduct."
"So should I," replied Winter, grimly; "and I fancy Sutgrove would not be averse to a meeting with him."
"Why, what has he been doing?" asked Mannering.
"It's too long a story to tell you now," said Winter, as he climbed back into his seat; "but if you will come up to my place as soon as you have put your car to bed, I'll tell you all about it."
"Right!" sang out Mannering, as we once more set out upon our homeward way. We had not much further to go. In two minutes we had pulled up at Colonel Maitland's door.
I leaned back and shouted, "Here we are, Colonel," in the slumbering warrior's ear.
"Eh! What—what?" he replied, as he awakened with a start. "When are we going to start?"
"Start? Why we've brought you safely home to your own threshold," said Winter.
"'Pon my soul! I remember now," he answered. "I just shut my eyes to keep the dust out of 'em, and—— You will come in for a peg, of course," he continued, as he emerged from the rugs in which he had been enveloped.
I glanced at the windows. There was only a light in the Colonel's study. If there had been another in the drawing-room, I should have accepted forthwith. As it was, I merely said that I could not think of disturbing Miss Maitland.
"Pooh!" said the Colonel, with the usual callous disregard of the mere father for his children's beauty sleep.
But he did not press the invitation. Indeed it was with difficulty he succeeded in repressing a yawn.
"I'll call to-morrow, and get a considered opinion upon my Soho house of entertainment," I remarked, as the Colonel opened his door, and paused at the entrance to bid us a final good night.
"Glad to see you," he replied, as he grasped my hand and shook it warmly. "But of one thing you may rest assured. So long as that bin of port holds out, your house of entertainment may count upon me as a regular customer whenever I dine in town."
"Opium isn't in it," commented Winter in a low voice, as he set the car in motion and wheeled out of the drive. "How he could have slept so soundly through it all absolutely beats me."
I did not reply. My attention was concentrated upon one of the upper windows, at which I thought I had seen a form I knew very well make a brief appearance. But we left the window and house behind us. Winter's place was only about a hundred yards further up the road.