The Disentanglers Part 61

He expressed his hope to be well enough to go away on Friday; he would retire to the inn at Scourie, and try to persevere with his literary work. Mr. Macrae would not hear of this; as, if the miscreants were captured, Blake alone could have a chance of identifying them. To this Blake replied that, as long as Mr. Macrae thought that he might be useful, he was at his service.

To Merton, Blake displayed himself in a new light. He said that he remembered little of what occurred after he was found at the foot of the cliff. Probably he was snappish and selfish; he was suffering very much.

His head, indeed, was still bound up, and his face showed how he had suffered. Merton shook hands with him, and said that he hoped Blake would forget his own behaviour, for which he was sincerely sorry.

'Oh, the chaff?' said Blake. 'Never mind, I dare say I played the fool.

I have been thinking, when my brain would give me leave, as I lay in bed.

Merton, you are a trifle my senior, and you know the world much better. I have lived in a writing and painting set, where we talked nonsense till it went to our heads, and we half believed it. And, to tell you the truth, the presence of women always sets me off. I am a humbug; I do _not_ know Gaelic, but I mean to work away at my drama for all that. This kind of shock against the realities of life sobers a fellow.'

Blake spoke simply, in an unaffected, manly way.

'_Semel in saninivimus omnes_!' said Merton.

'_Nec lusisse pudet_!' said Blake, 'and the rest of it. I know there's a parallel in the _Greek Anthology_, somewhere. I'll go and get my copy.'

He went into the observatory (they had been sitting on a garden seat outside), and Merton thought to himself:

'He is not such a bad fellow. Not many of your young poets know anything but French.'

Blake seemed to have some difficulty in finding his Anthology. At last he came out with rather a 'carried' look, as the Scots say, rather excited.

'Here it is,' he said, and handed Merton the little volume, of a Tauchnitz edition, open at the right page. Merton read the epigram.

'Very neat and good,' he said.

'Now, Merton,' said Blake, 'it is not usual, is it, for ministers of the Anglican sect to play the spy?'

'What in the world do you mean?' asked Merton. 'Oh, I guess, the Rev.

Mr. Williams! Were you not told that his cure of souls is in Scotland Yard? I ought to have told you, I thought our host would have done so.

What was the holy man doing?'

'I was not told,' said Blake, 'I suppose Mr. Macrae was too busy. So I was rather surprised, when I went into my room for my book, to find the clergyman examining my things and taking books out of one of my book boxes.'

'Good heavens!' exclaimed Merton. 'What did you do?'

'I locked the door of the room, and handed Mr. Williams the key of my despatch box. "I have a few private trifles there," I said, "the key may save you trouble." Then I sat down and wrote a note to Mr. Macrae, and rang the bell and asked the servant to carry the note to his master. Mr.

Macrae came, and I explained the situation and asked him to be kind enough to order the motor, if he could spare it, or anything to carry me to the nearest inn.'

'I shall order it, Mr. Blake,' said Mr. Macrae, 'but it will be to remove this person, whom I especially forbade to molest any of my guests. I don't know how I forgot to tell you who he is, a detective; the others were told.'

'He confounded himself in excuses; it was horribly awkward.'

'Horribly!' said Merton.

'He rated the man for visiting his guests' rooms without his knowledge. I dare say the parson has turned over all _your_ things.'

Merton blenched. He had some of the correspondence of the Disentanglers with him, rather private matter, naturally.

'He had not the key of my despatch box,' said Merton.

'He could open it with a quill, I believe,' said Blake. 'They do--in novels.'

Merton felt very uneasy. 'What was the end of it?' he asked.

'Oh, I said that if the man was within his duty the accident was only one of those which so singular a misfortune brings with it. I would stay while Mr. Macrae wanted me. I handed over my keys, and insisted that all my luggage and drawers and things should be examined. But Mr. Macrae would not listen to me, and forbade the fellow to enter any of--the bedrooms.'

'Begad, I'll go and look at my own despatch box,' said Merton.

'I shall sit in the shade,' said Blake.

Merton did examine his box, but could not see that any of the papers had been disarranged. Still, as the receptacle was full of family secrets he did not feel precisely comfortable. Going out on the lawn he met Mr.

Macrae, who took him into a retired place and told him what had occurred.

'I had given the man the strictest orders not to invade the rooms of any of my guests,' he said; 'it is too odious.'

The Rev. Mr. Williams being indisposed, dined alone in his room that night; so did Blake, who was still far from well.

The only other incident was that Donald Macdonald and the new gillie, Duncan Mackay, were reported to be 'lying around in a frightfully dissolute state.' Donald was a sober man, but Mackay, he explained next morning, proved to be his long lost cousin, hence the revel. Mackay, separately, stated that he had made Donald intoxicated for the purpose of eliciting any guilty secret which he might possess. But whisky had elicited nothing.

On the whole the London detectives had not been entirely a success. Mr.

Macrae therefore arranged to send both of them back to Lairg, where they would strike the line, and return to the metropolis.

Merton had casually talked of Logan (Lord Fastcastle) to Mr. Macrae on the previous evening, and mentioned that he was now likely to be at Inchnadampf. Mr. Macrae knew something of Logan, and before he sped the parting detectives, asked Merton whether he thought that he might send a note to Inchnadampf inviting his friend to come and bear him company?

Merton gravely said that in such a crisis as theirs he thought that Logan would be extremely helpful, and that he was a friend of the Budes.

Perhaps he himself had better go and pick up Logan and inform him fully as to the mysterious events? As Mr. Gianesi was also expected from London on that day (Thursday) to examine the wireless machine, which had been silent, Mr. Macrae sent off several vehicles, as well as the motor that carried the detectives. Merton drove the tandem himself.

Merton found Logan, with his Spanish bull-dog, Bouncer, loafing outside the hotel door at Inchnadampf. He greeted Merton in a state of suppressed glee; the whole adventure was much to the taste of the scion of Rostalrig. Merton handed him Mr. Macrae's letter of invitation.

'Come, won't I come, rather!' said Logan.

'Of course we must wait to rest the horses,' said Merton. 'The motor has gone on to Lairg, carrying two detectives who have made a pretty foozle of it, and it will bring back an electrician.'

'What for?' asked Logan.

'I must tell you the whole story,' said Merton. 'Let us walk a little way--too many gillies and people loafing about here.'

They walked up the road and sat down by little Loch Awe, the lochan on the way to Alt-na-gealgach. Merton told all the tale, beginning with his curious experiences on the night before the disappearance of Miss Macrae, and ending with the dismissal of the detectives. He also confided to Logan the importance of the matter to himself, and entreated him to be serious.

Logan listened very attentively.

When Merton had ended, Logan said, 'Old boy, you were the making of me: you may trust me. Serious it is. A great deal of capital must have been put into this business.'

'A sprat to catch a whale,' said Merton. 'You mean about n.o.bbling the electric machine? How could _that_ be done?'

'That--and other things. I don't know _how_ the machine was n.o.bbled, but it could not be done cheap. Would you mind telling me your dreams again?'

Merton repeated the story.

Logan was silent.