The Burglars' Club Part 28

Meyer rose and came forward. "Ah, Mr. Lucas," he said, "dis is indeed a pleasure. Not altokedder unexbected, I admit; but it is always satisfactory to find one's conclusions brove correct. I taught you would have to return to make some final notes on my domestic architecture and my curios. You have seen my place by day. Now you visit me by night. Dat is charming."

Lucas stood by the curtain, overwhelmed with confusion. Not by a word did Mr. Meyer betray any resentment at his presence, but there was a thinly disguised vein of banter in his speech that made the burglar's pulses quicken.

"Berhaps you have not noticed de view I have here, Mr. Lucas," said Meyer. "Come and look."

He threw open the window wide. The moon was playing on the waters of the Channel. Clouds were scurrying across the sky. A lighthouse flashed in the far distance.

"I like dis view," said Meyer. "De sea is always de same--deep and treacherous. One always knows what to exbect, but man you never know.

How do you look upon de sea, Mr. Lucas?"

"Good for boating, and--er--bathing," responded Lucas desperately.

"Goot for boating and bading," repeated Meyer. "Dat is so. You are practical. Dat is where you islanders have the advantage over us treamers. But somehow the treams have a habit of outlasting de practice.

I do not tink of boating and bading when I look on de sea. I tink of all dat is above it, and below it. On de top, s.h.i.+ps carrying men and women and children to continents; below de waves, dead men and women and children, dose who have died by de way, floating by de cables which are carrying words dat make and unmake nations and men. Life and death are dere togedder. Did you never tink of de sea in dat way, Mr. Lucas, when you was not studying domestic architecture and curios?"

"I can't say that I have," said Lucas, trying vainly to rise to the situation. A man with a weapon he could have met and fought any day, at a moment's notice, but smooth words and soliloquies, how could he meet them, though there was a hidden meaning in every phrase, a subtle danger indicated in every intonation?

"I should practise it den, Mr. Lucas," said Meyer gravely. "A little more tinking and a little less action is de new brescription de doctors are giving to dis country." He turned away from the window, after closing it. He did not appear to notice the two great holes in the gla.s.s which stared him in the face.

"Den I shut my window tight, for fear of dieves, Mr. Lucas," he went on, "and go to my observatory, where we went de odder day. I go up dose steps to my delescope, and bring de stars widdin speaking distance. Have you ever spoken wid de stars, Mr. Lucas?"

"No," replied the burglar curtly.

"Ah, I taught not. Somehow you did not give me dat imbression. You should study de moon for a bekinning, Mr. Lucas. It is a poor worn-out star of a sort. What does it tell of? Of life run down, as many men's are. But after all, de moon had its day. It was not cut off in its prime, like some men's lives are, Mr. Lucas, because of a comet-like taught, or a meteor suggestion of evil. A kreat science is astronomy, Mr. Lucas. Do you not tink so?"

Mr. Lucas did not reply.

"Why do I speak of dese things, Mr. Lucas?" said Meyer with increasing earnestness. "Because you are young, very young, dough you are nearly so old as me. I speak of dem because you are wasting your life entering my house in de mittle of de night to take photokraphs, when de stars are singing outside, and de world is calling for de man who, as Dommas Carlyle says, is not dere. What would Dommas Carlyle have said if he had known dat you were here all de time, taking photokraphs in Mr. Adolph Meyer's villa--robbing Mr. Meyer, widout de excuse of necessity?"

Lucas made an attempt to speak, but Meyer stopped him. The little man's voice rose, his eyes gleamed, his very stature seemed to swell. The room was full of him.

"Be silent, sare," he said, with a gesture of an emperor. "I am speaking! Listen! I know what you will say: It is for sport dat you do dis--sport dat eats up your race, and makes men like me your master. You take your gun and kill. See," pointing through the window at a problematical object. "Dat bird--dat beautiful white gull. It is flying--seeking for food or its mate. You shoot it----"

"Never!" shouted Lucas indignantly.

"You do. I know you do. You take dat wonderful ding we call life--for sport. You rob me. Dat is a smaller ding, but it is sport also. Mein Gott! but you shall rob and kill no more."

He struck a bell. Lucas backed to the wall to be ready for emergencies.

A little sharp-featured man entered.

"Here he is, Mr. Marvell," said Meyer. "I have got him red-handed and cold-souled."

"That's right, sir," said the little man briskly, producing a pair of handcuffs. "I'll take him across to Bournemouth, and we'll have him up at the police court in the morning."

Mr. Meyer did not appear to have heard him. "Strange, is it not?" he resumed, "dat you and I and Mr. Marvell, de clever detective, should be here, Mr. Lucas? No, I will call you by your broper name. Sir Rubert Inkledree, I ask you to listen."

He took up a red volume from the table.

"Dis is a useful book," he said, as he opened it. "We are all entered up here, all our public appearances, dat is--not our midnight photokraphings. Ah, here it is:

"'Sir Rubert Inkledree, seventh baronet, born 1868, only son of sixth baronet and Mary, daughter of Viscount Morecambe. Educated Eton and Christ Church, Oxford. Owns twenty tousand acres. Address: Inkledree Castle, Leicesters.h.i.+re; 57, Brook Street, W. Clubs: Bachelor's, Boodle's, Turf.'

"Dat is fine--for a bekinning," continued Meyer; "but what an end, Sir Rubert, in dis room wid Mr. Meyer whom you have robbed, and a detective, and de Bournemouth Police Court in de morning. Dat is not very fine. Now listen akain."

He turned over the leaves and read:--

"'Adolph Meyer, born 1864. Financier. Son of Jacob Meyer of Dusseldorf.

M.A. London University, Commander of de Victorian Order, Chevalier of de Legion of Honour. Address: 16, Lombard Street, E.C., and St. George's Island, Bournemouth.' Dat is all. Dere are no clubs and no acres. I have de orders because I did service to England and France. I am M.A. of London University because, when I was a young man behind de counter in de bank all day, I worked for my dekree by night; and now I am here, and you are where I like to put you, Sir Rubert Inkledree."

"Bournemouth Police Station," suggested Mr. Marvell, who was aching to get to business.

"Bournemouth Police Station?" repeated Mr. Meyer slowly. "No, Mr.

Marvell; I tink not. I am Master of Arts of London University and reader of Blato, letting alone de odder dings. He shall go free, and Mr.

Marvell, you will blease forket de incident. I telekraft for you on Sat.u.r.day. You came, but dere was noding. Dat is what you will report, please, at Scotland Yard.

"But you, Sir Rubert, you will not forket. You will remember. You will neider kill nor rob akain, because it is de wish of Mr. Adolph Meyer, who makes you free instead of sending you to de Police Station.

"Also, Sir Rubert, I suchest dat you give up dat Club dat Mr. Marvell speaks of. See, you have my Holbein in your pocket. Take it, since you want it. Show it to your friends, and say dat Mr. Meyer, who is M.A. of London University, Commander, Chevalier and tcheneral treamer, says dat dey had better disbant, for de stars are singing, and Mr. Marvell is watching."

Mr. Marvell folded up his handcuffs methodically, and replaced them in his pocket. He was too well trained to show the intense disgust he felt at the turn the proceedings had taken.

Again the burglar endeavoured to speak, but once more Mr. Meyer commanded silence.

"Mr. Marvell will see you to your boat, Sir Rubert," he said. "I drust dat you will weigh my words well. It is not often dat I say so many, and dey have caused me some inconvenience to speak, as I am not accustomed to spend Monday nights in my marine villa. To be here I had dis afternoon to postpone an interview wid de Turkish Amba.s.sador, which I have since learnt by telekram from Constantinople has been misconstrued.

De Sultan will not sleep much to-night, and in de morning newspapers dere will be talk of drouble in de Balkan States. Some peoples will be fearing war, Sir Rubert, and all on account of you and your midnight photokraphings. I wonder what Dommas Carlyle would say to a mess like dat. Goot night."

Mr. Meyer turned abruptly on his heels, and left the room.

"Come along, Sir Rupert, please," said Mr. Marvell. In the brilliant moons.h.i.+ne they went along the terrace by the stone dogs, and down the steps to the beach. They found the boat by the trees.

"How did Mr. Meyer come to suspect my errand?" said Ingletree suddenly.

The detective smiled a wan smile.

"Well, sir," he replied, "I wasn't present when you saw him on Sat.u.r.day, but I think that Mr. Meyer read you through as if you were a book--printed in pretty big letters, too. It was a rather thin tale, that about the magazine article, and when you asked to see round the house Mr. Meyer was certain that you had some special object in view.

When you inquired after the miniatures he knew what you were after, as the papers had lately been full of the Holbein. To make sure on the point he didn't show it to you, and of course you asked to see it. Then he telegraphed to Scotland Yard, and they sent me."

"How did you find out who I was, and why I wanted the miniature?"

"Ah," said Mr. Marvell drily, "I'll tell you that some day later on, Sir Rupert. We shall probably meet again."

Then the baronet put out to sea, and the detective went back to the Tuscan Villa.

On the following evening, at the meeting of the Burglars' Club, the Secretary produced the Holbein miniature, and read a letter from Sir Rupert Ingletree which accompanied it. Then the President rose.

"My lords and gentlemen," he said, "we have just heard the singular adventure which has befallen one of our members. The Holbein miniature is here, but only owing to the goodwill of its owner. Sir Rupert Ingletree is at liberty owing to the forbearance of the same gentleman.

Under the circ.u.mstances I think we have no option but to accept the resignation of Sir Rupert, who does not appear to have acted with the adroitness which is a necessary qualification of our members. It may well be that you or I would have done no better under similar circ.u.mstances, but I need hardly remind you that in this club we judge only by results, and the results in this instance are not satisfactory.