第 15 页

When the lunch gong sounded, she went downstairs, and passing through the open door of the drawing room, arrived in time to hear the end of a vigorous denunciation of French plages by Miss Revelstoke.

It was not what she heard but what she saw that astonished her. She had not been into the drawing room since the night of Betcher Long's visit, and now she saw that there was an oil painting above the mantelpiece, but it was not the picture of a beautiful and youthful Miss Revelstoke that had been there before they left for Heartsease. The sallow-faced woman smiled as she caught and interpreted the glance.

"I meant to have that picture taken away a long time ago. And now, thank heavens! it has gone! The portrait was too ghastly a reminder of my great age," she said. "Nora, my dear, we have been discussing your good fortune. I want you to be sensible and appoint Mr. Henry to act for you."

It was a little bewildering to the girl that she should be so important, and she needed an agent; and she laughed self-consciously.

"I'm in the state of mind when I prefer that anybody should act except me!" she confessed. "I still cannot understand why Mr. Monkford should have left me his money; it is almost impossible to believe."

"He might have left it in worse hands," said Miss Revelstoke, practically, as she led the way to her study. "Poor Joshua was queer. But in this case I think he has behaved perfectly sanely. He liked you, Nora. Of course, he liked you!" she scoffed at the girl's silent protest. "And therein he showed most excellent taste!"

On the blotting pad of the library table were two written documents.

"You sign on the dotted line," said Mr. Henry humorously, quoting from an American comedy that had recently been staged. "The first of these is a formal assignment of your responsibility; the second is a letter authorizing me to act for you. A power of attorney will have to be signed again before a commissioner of oaths, but the letter will serve for the moment. As soon as this is signed, half your worries and doubts will be transferred to my shoulders."

She sat down in the chair by the desk and took up the pen, hesitating. She was being asked to do something definite. It was as though the signing of those papers placed her in the position of a claimant to that to which she had no moral title.

"Must I sign these now? I am so confused that I don't quite realize what is happening. Won't you leave them till this evening, until I've got over the shock?"

She was looking at Henry and she did not see the swift warning glance that Miss Revelstoke sent in his direction.

"Why, certainly! We can do nothing to-day. Miss Revelstoke will explain them to you— I would rather you understood before you signed. So long as I get these papers by the first post in the morning, there is no immediate hurry."

Miss Revelstoke gathered up the documents, opened the safe, and put them in.

"And now let us have lunch," she said almost gaily.

Henry left the house at half-past two, and the girl went straight to the study, where she knew her employer would be.

"May I go out for an hour?" she said. "I think a walk would do a lot to clear my head."

The woman eyed her steadily.

"A very good idea," she said, bit her lip in thought, and then:

"I don't think it would be wise of you to discuss this matter until Henry has put the will in legal shape. And the last person in the world you ought to speak to on the matter is Mr. Long. I suppose I am prejudiced against Long— the truth is, I don't like his father. He once put me in a very embarrassing position by his boorishness."

It was news to the girl that Miss Revelstoke was even acquainted with Sir Godley Long. She had never met the banker, and when, in her curiosity, she had turned up a popular work of reference, the details concerning Betcher's parent were meagre and uninformative. It struck her that Miss Revelstoke was not entirely agreeable to the afternoon jaunt.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

To Nora Sanders, even such a mild deception as this was repugnant. She could, however, tell the truth.

"I will go through the Park and probably call at Cloche's; there is a sale on," she said.

The elder woman smiled faintly.

"My dear, you are in a financial position which makes you superior to sales!" she said. "Still, it will be an occupation for you. Be back by five o'clock."

Chapter 22

CLOCHE'S is a big store, and since it had been impossible for Betcher Long to tell her exactly the spot where they would meet, she lingered for a while at the main entrance, but saw no sign of him, and then strolled into the shop. The ground floor of the store was crowded, and she looked left and right, expecting every moment to see the detective. But still there were no signs of him, and she began to think that she had misunderstood his signal or that some unexpected call had prevented his keeping the appointment, when a commissionaire with a sweeping cavalry moustache approached her and touched his cap.

"We have found your bag, miss; it is in the lost property office. Will you come this way?"

Before she could protest that she had lost no bag, he had turned and was marching ahead of her, and she followed, vainly striving to overtake him to tell him of his mistake. He turned into a little bureau above which was painted "Lost Property" and here she came up with him.

"I think you've made a mistake; I've lost no bag," she began.

He opened a door, showing a smaller waiting room. "Will you come in, miss?" he said.

"I tell you I have lost nothing." She was a little irritated by his stupidity.

He almost pushed her into the room and closed the door behind her.

"Excuse me for appearing like a stage detective," said Betcher, as he stripped his moustache. "But you simply must lose a bag!"

She stared at him in amazement.

"I hate doing this sort of thing," said Betcher. "I feel that I am infringing somebody's copyright. But old Cloche is a great friend of ours, and there was no other way of approaching you without giving a lot of information to the gentleman who trailed you into the shop and has probably been following you all afternoon."

"Following me?" she repeated, incredulously. "Surely you're mistaken?"

"So far from being mistaken, I know the man, his name and address, and his previous convictions," grinned Betcher. "The commissionaire's coat was loaned for the occasion, and Cloche has so many liveried servants that one more or less was not noticed. You've heard of your luck?"

"Is it true?" she asked. "I can't believe it."

"It is true all right," he said quietly. "The will is beyond dispute— in the circumstances. Monkford is alleged to have signed it on the afternoon of his death, which, by the way, was the first of August— does that strike you as being very significant?"

She shook her head wonderingly.

"Was it remarkable that he should die on the first of August?"

And then, in a flash, she remembered the old power boat moored near Monkford's lawn, and the dates that had been carved behind the moving panel.

"Oh!" she gasped, and turned pale.

"The prophecy was fulfilled, that is all. If it had been on the second of August they would have been a day out, and the inscription would have been inartistic." And then, abruptly, "What documents has Henry asked you to sign?"

She sat down suddenly.

"How on earth did you know?" she asked, amazement in her face.

"Have you signed anything?" he demanded quickly. She shook her head.

"Not yet."

"Then they have asked you to sign something— what?"

"I don't really understand what it is, but apparently it is quite in order. Mr. Henry showed me two papers, one authorizing him to act for me, and the other an assignment—"

"You'll sign neither," he interrupted. "You understand?"

"But Mr. Henry is a lawyer and he is acting for me."

"He will not act for you, and you will sign nothing— is that clear?" said Betcher roughly. He took from his pocket a folded paper and smoothed it open on the table. "I'm going to test your confidence in me," he said, and he was very earnest. "This letter is an authority to Wilkins, Harding & Bayne, my father's lawyers, and I want you to sign it. I will see that it is delivered this afternoon."

"What is it?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I guess it is nearly a duplicate of the document that Mr. Henry wanted you to sign— an authorization to act. In other words, you put your affairs in the hands of a firm of lawyers— above suspicion."

She looked up at him quickly.

"Are you serious?"

He nodded.

"Then, Mr. Henry—"

"Mr. Henry is not above suspicion, for many reasons which I cannot explain at the moment. Will you do this for me, Nora?"

She took up the pen from the table, dipped it in the ink, and, without reading the document, signed.

"There is going to be an awful scene when I tell Miss Revelstoke what I have done," she said, with a sense of coming trouble.

"You need not tell Miss Revelstoke until to-morrow. When were you supposed to sign Henry's little dossier? To-night, eh? They are fast workers, without a doubt! Do you think, if you tried very hard, you could tell a lie?"

She smiled.

"I shouldn't care to lie, but if you wish me to—"

"Tell Miss Revelstoke that you have decided to put your affairs in the hands of your father's lawyers, and that they will consult with Henry. You can add, to justify your action, that, as Henry is one of the witnesses of the will, you think it best that an outsider should watch your interests."

There was a small handbag on the table. He picked this up and smilingly put it into her hand.

"You have recovered your lost property, and the gentleman who is watching you from outside is growing very impatient."

"When can I see you again, Mr. Long? I'm rather scared about the whole thing."

"I shall be seeing you again in five minutes, and in all probability I shall be within a few yards of you for the next week," he said, and took her hand in his. And then he said a strange thing:

"You're going to have a bad time; it would be wicked not to tell you this," he said, lowering his voice and looking her straight in the eyes. "But you are the kind who will stand up to anything that comes your way, and if it is any comfort to know that there are eighteen thousand policemen in London all doing their best for you, and that one miserable inspector will be going gray in the course of the next few days, entirely on your behalf, why, then you will be able to get through and not look a day older!"

A second later, she was out in the busy store, curious to discover who was watching her. Apparently, every member of the crowd was intent upon his own business, but presently she saw a man glance furtively toward her. Almost immediately he turned his eyes away, but she knew instinctively that he was the watcher.

She walked through a few departments and made a purchase or two, and every time she furtively glanced back she saw this respectable gentleman within a few paces of her.

Why should she be watched? What danger threatened her? For some remarkable reason, the warning which Betcher Long had given, and which, considering the matter soberly, she knew should have reduced her to a condition of panic, neither frightened nor disturbed her. Rather, it gave her courage to meet the inevitable disapproval of her employer as the lesser of the trials that lay ahead.

She did not wait for Miss Revelstoke to remind her about the documents, but as soon as she had gone to her room and changed, she went down in search of the woman. She found her in the drawing room, a piece of fine sewing in her hands, and Miss Revelstoke looked up over the glasses which she wore when she was thus engaged.

"I have decided to put my affairs in the hands of my father's lawyers," said Nora, without preliminary.

Miss Revelstoke put down her sewing, took off her glasses, folded them carefully, and placed them on the table by her side.

"When did you arrive at that decision, Nora?"

"This afternoon," said the girl boldly. "I have been thinking the matter over, and it occurred to me that it was very undesirable that Mr. Henry, who had so much to do with the making of this extraordinary will, should act for me."

Chapter 23

MISS REVELSTOKE pinched her lip thoughtfully, and her dark eyes did not leave the girl's face. "That was very considerate of you," she said, and there was a note of faint irony in her voice; "and I am sure that Henry will appreciate your consideration. Unfortunately, I have already told him to go ahead and put Monk ford's affairs in order, so I am afraid, my dear, you'll have to change your mind. It would be extremely awkward for me, and I should look a perfect fool otherwise."

Nora's mouth was dry; she was seized with an unexpected terror in the face of the woman's opposition.

"I have already written to my father's lawyer's," she managed to say.

"Indeed?" Miss Revelstoke put on her glasses again and threaded the needle with great deliberation. "That is unfortunate. I thought that you would be guided by me in this matter. However, it cannot be helped. Will you tell Jennings that I shall want the car in half an hour?" She had taken the matter very calmly, but Nora, who knew her employer, was not deceived. Miss Revelstoke was in a cold fury, though the hand that held the needle had not trembled and her voice was as steady and as untroubled as ever it had been. But the two red spots which came into her cheeks were beyond her power to control.

From her room she saw the car drive away and went downstairs again, with a sense of relief that she was for a moment free from the woman's oppressive presence.

Her position was becoming a little impossible; that had occurred to her on her way back from the store. And yet she could find no reasonable excuse for leaving Colville Gardens. Indeed, she realized that she had a great deal for which she should be thankful to Miss Revelstoke. The woman had treated her kindly and humanly. She had made no undue demands upon her time, and was the first employer Nora had had who had not treated her as an upper servant.