The Voice from the Void: The Great Wireless Mystery Part 31

"He knows nothing, and he's going to be useful to us."

"But he's very deeply in love with Elma."

"Of course. But to part them will be quite easy. Leave all that to me."

There was a pause.

"And you will desert me for that slip of a girl--eh, Gordon?" asked the handsome woman suddenly in a strange, unusual voice.

He started. He had never realised that the woman's jealousy had been aroused, but, nevertheless, he knew that a jealous woman always const.i.tutes a danger when one sails near the wind.

"Oh! my dear Freda, please don't talk like that," he laughed. "Surely ours is a business connexion. Your interests are mine, and _vice versa_. Have they not been so for five years? You have kept your eyes open for the pigeons, while I have plucked them for you and given you half share of the spoil."

"And now you contemplate deserting me--and perhaps marrying the daughter of a wealthy man. Where do I come in?"

"As you always have done, my dear Freda. Both of us are out for money-- and big money we must get from somewhere. That concession in Morocco is my main object at the present moment. We already have the plan, and Barclay has not yet discovered his loss."

"He may do so at any moment. What then?"

"Why, nothing. He will have no suspicion as to who has secured it or how it was taken from his safe. Besides, the old Moor is arriving at the Ritz and is bringing the actual signed concession over from Fez.

And now that the parson is dead all will be plain sailing. Have you heard from Arthur to-day?"

"Not a word. He should be back from Bayeux in a couple of days."

"I shall want him to help me when young Homfray gets the concession in his possession."

The woman looked him straight in the face, and then, after another pause, asked in a whisper: "What! Do you intend that an--an accident shall happen to him--eh?"

"Perhaps," replied the man with a grim smile. "Who knows?"

"Ah! I see!" she exclaimed quickly. "There cannot be two candidates for the hand of Elma Sandys!"

And he nodded in the affirmative, a few moments later leading her back to the two young men who had been entertaining her, and then he left the place.

The ill-suppressed jealousy which his accomplice had expressed considerably perturbed him. He saw that if he intended to attain success with Elma he must first propitiate Freda. A single word from her as an enemy would ruin all his chances.

He was not blind to the fact either that Elma had no great liking for him, and that, on the other hand, the girl was deeply in love with the late rector's son. Though he had declared to Freda that all was plain sailing, he viewed the situation with considerable misgiving. As Rex Rutherford he had made a very favourable impression upon Mr Sandys, but women being gifted with an often uncanny intuition, Elma had from the first viewed him with suspicion. His studied attentions had annoyed her. And now that Freda had shown jealousy, a further difficulty, and even danger, had arisen.

Since their hurried departure from Willowden Freda had taken another furnished house called The Elms, not far from Laleham, on the Thames, and there old Claribut had again been installed as butler and general factotum, while Gray, under the name of Rutherford, occupied a handsome suite of chambers in Dover Street, to which his new chauffeur eventually drove him that night.

Next day the village of Little Farncombe was plunged into grief at the astounding news that their popular rector was dead. Old Mr Sandys'

valet told his master the sad truth when he took up his early cup of tea, and within an hour the old financier called at the Rectory and offered his sincere condolences to Roddy, while later he sent a telegram to Elma at Harrogate announcing the tragic fact.

Not a soul had apparently seen the dead man's visitor either arrive or depart. Mrs Bentley had, as was her habit, gone to bed without wis.h.i.+ng her master "Good-night." n.o.body, therefore, discovered that the poor old gentleman had been taken ill in consequence of violent anger expressed to a visitor, for the latter had been clever enough to slip away without being seen.

Before noon Roddy received a long telegram from Elma, among many others, and three days later the body of the Reverend Norton Homfray was laid to rest in the quiet old churchyard which almost joined the Rectory garden.

From far and near came crowds of mourners, and many were the beautiful wreaths placed upon the coffin by loving hands, though none was more beautiful than that which Elma herself brought from the Towers.

That evening, when the funeral was over, and all the mourners had gone, Roddy stood in the wireless-room with his loved one clasped in his strong arms.

He was pale, serious, and grief-stricken. She saw it, and kissed him upon the lips in mute sympathy.

He held his breath as his eyes wandered over the long row of experimental instruments which had been his chief hobby and delight.

But with his father's death all the interest in them had been swept away.

This he declared to Elma in a tone of deep and poignant sorrow.

"No, Roddy dear," she exclaimed, her hand tenderly placed on his shoulder. "You must strive to bear your loss, great as it is. I know how you loved your dear father, but the parting must always come for all of us. The blow is great--to us all, to the village--and to you more especially, but you must not allow it to interfere with your future interests."

She saw in his eyes the light of unshed tears, and taking his strong hand, softly added:

"Face the world anew, dear--face it with greater spirit and energy than you have done before, so that you may become a son worthy of a splendid and revered father."

"I know!" he said. "It is very good of you to speak like that, Elma, but my grief seems to have altered the face of the world for me. The Moroccan Government has suddenly changed, it appears, and the Kaid Ahmed-el-Hafid is now no longer in power. The Minister of the Interior has been replaced by Mohammed ben Mussa, who was grand chamberlain to the Sultan, and who is now at the Ritz Hotel. My friend Barclay has arranged with him that I shall receive the concession for the ancient emerald mines, and I have to be introduced to him to-morrow. He promises me every facility and protection."

"Then you will go, dearest," she said, standing with her little black "pom" in her arms. "It will mean a great fortune for you. Father was only remarking about it the other day."

Roddy paused and looked fondly at her sweet face.

"Yes. If you really wish it, darling, I'll go."

"That's right," she exclaimed brightly. "Come up to the Towers with me in the car. Father asked me to bring you. You can't stay here alone this evening."

He demurred, and tried to excuse himself, but the girl was insistent.

"There's the news broadcast!" she exclaimed next second, glancing at the big, round-faced s.h.i.+p's clock. "Let's listen for a moment before we go--eh? The broadcast always fascinates me."

In obedience to her desire Roddy switched on the aerial, lit the valves, and giving her one pair of head-'phones, took another. Then adjusting a tuning-coil and turning the k.n.o.bs of the two condensers one after the other, a deep, sonorous voice was heard announcing the results of certain races held that afternoon, followed by a number of items of general news, which included a railway accident in France and the facts, that the King had left Buckingham Palace for Windsor, and that yet another conference of the Allies was contemplated.

The news was followed by the announcement:

"Mr George Pelham will now tell you all one of the famous bedtime stories for the children. Hulloa! C.Q. Hulloa! C.Q.? Listen! A bedtime story."

Elma removed the telephones from her ears, and said:

"I think we may go now." And then together they went forth to the car awaiting them.

Mr Sandys had asked Roddy to fit for him a wireless transmitting set so that he could speak to his office by wireless telephone. This he had done, though not without considerable difficulties with the authorities.

It was eleven o'clock before the young man returned to the silent, empty house, and on entering his dead father's study he saw that upon the blotting-pad old Mrs Bentley had placed several letters.

He took them up thoughtfully.

"Poor old dad!" he exclaimed aloud. "These have been written by people who still believe him to be alive!"

He turned them over in his hand, and then began to open them. The first was a polite intimation from a moneylender, who expressed himself anxious to lend the reverend gentleman a loan of anything from two pounds to two thousand pounds at practically a nominal interest. The next was from a second-hand bookseller of whom his father frequently dealt, the third a bill, and the fourth was thin and bore a foreign stamp, the address being written in a small, angular hand.

He opened it with some curiosity, and read as follows: