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"What does he want?" cried Jane, in trepidation. She addressed her friend, but it was Mr. Chambers who answered.
"I want you to supply me with a little information concerning Lord Eric Temple,--whom you addressed last evening as James."
Jane began to tremble. Scotland Yard!
"The man is crazy," said Mrs. Sparflight, leaping into the breach. "By what right, sir, do you come here to impose your--"
"No offence is intended, ma'am," broke in Mr. Chambers. "Absolutely no offence. It is merely in the line of duty that I come. In plain words, I have been instructed to apprehend Lord Eric Temple and fetch him to London. You see, I am quite frank about it. You can aid me by being as frank in return, ladies."
By this time Jane had regained command of herself. Drawing herself up, she faced the detective, and, casting discretion to the winds, took a most positive and determined stand.
"I must decline,--no matter what the cost may be to myself,--to give you the slightest a.s.sistance concerning Lord Temple."
To their infinite amazement, the man bowed very courteously and said:
"I shall not insist. Pardon my methods and my intrusion. I shall trouble you no further. Good day, madam. Good day, your ladys.h.i.+p."
He took his leave at once, leaving them staring blankly at the closed door. He was satisfied. He had found out just what he wanted to know, and he was naturally in some haste to get out before they began putting embarra.s.sing questions to him.
"Oh, dear," murmured Jane, distractedly. "What _are_ we to do? Scotland Yard! That can mean but one thing. His enemies at home have brought some vile, horrible charge against--"
"We must warn him at once, Jane. There is no time to be lost. Telephone to the garage where Mrs. Millidew--"
"But the man doesn't know that Eric is driving for Mrs. Millidew," broke in Jane, hopefully.
"He _will_ know, and in very short order," said the other, sententiously. "Those fellows are positively uncanny. Go at once and telephone." She hesitated a moment, looking a little confused and guilty. "Lay aside your work, dear, for the time being. There is nothing very urgent about it, you know."
In sheer desperation she had that very morning set her restless charge to work copying names out of the _Social Register_,--names she had checked off at random between the hours of ten and two the previous night.
Jane's distress increased to a state bordering on anguish.
"Oh, dear! He--he is out of town for two or three days."
"Out of town?"
"He told me last night he was to be off early this morning for Mrs.
Millidew's country place somewhere on Long Island. Mrs. Millidew had to go down to see about improvements or repairs or something before the house is opened for the season."
"Mrs. Millidew was in the shop this morning for a 'try-on,'" said the other. "She has changed her plans, no doubt."
Jane's honest blue eyes wavered slightly as she met her friend's questioning gaze.
"I think he said that young Mrs. Millidew was going down to look after the work for her mother-in-law."
CHAPTER XVII
FRIDAY FOR LUCK
THE "drawing-room" that evening lacked not only distinction but animation as well. To begin with, the attendance was small. The Marchioness, after the usual collaboration with Julia in advance of the gathering, received a paltry half-dozen during the course of the evening. The Princess was there, and Count Antonio,--(he rarely missed coming), and the Hon. Mrs. Priestley-Duff. Lord Eric Temple and Lady Jane Thorne were missing, as were Prince Waldemar de Bosky, Count Wilhelm von Blitzen and the Countess du Bara. Extreme dulness prevailed.
The Princess fell asleep, and, on being roused at a seasonable hour, declared that her eyes had been troubling her of late, so she kept them closed as much as possible on account of the lights.
Mrs. Priestley-Duff, being greatly out-of-sorts, caustically remarked that the proper way to treat bothersome eyes is to put them to bed in a sound-proof room.
Cricklewick yawned in the foyer, Moody yawned in the outer hall, and McFaddan in the pantry. The latter did not yawn luxuriously. There was something half-way about it.
"Why don't you 'ave it out?" inquired Moody, sympathetically, after solicitous inquiry. "They say the bloomin' things are the cause of all the rheumatism we're 'aving nowadays. Is it a wisdom tooth?"
"No," said McFaddan, with a suddenness that startled Moody; "it ain't.
It's a whole jaw. It's a dam' fool jaw at that."
"Now that I look at you closer," said Moody critically, "it seems to be a bit discoloured. Looks as though mortification had set in."
"Ye never said a truer thing," said McFaddan. "It set in last night."
The man from Scotland Yard waited across the street until he saw the lights in the windows of the third, fourth and fifth floors go out, and then strolled patiently away. Queer looking men and women came under his observation during the long and lonely vigil, entering and emerging from the darkened doorway across the street, but none of them, by any chance, bore the slightest resemblance to the elusive Lord Temple, or "her ladys.h.i.+p," the secretary. He made the quite natural error of putting the queer looking folk down as tailors and seamstresses who worked far into the night for the prosperous Deborah.
Two days went by. He sat at a window in the hotel opposite and waited for the young lady to appear. On three separate occasions he followed her to Central Park and back. She was a brisk walker. She had the free stride of the healthy English girl. He experienced some difficulty in keeping her in sight, but even as he puffed laboriously behind, he was conscious of a sort of elation. It was good to see some one who walked as if she were in Hyde Park.
For obvious reasons, his trailing was in vain. Jane did not meet Lord Temple for the excellent reason that Thomas Trotter was down on Long Island with the beautiful Mrs. Millidew. And while both Jane and Mrs.
Sparflight kept a sharp lookout for Mr. Chambers, they failed to discover any sign of him. He seemed to have abandoned the quest. They were not lured into security, however. He would bob up, like Jack-in-the-box, when least expected.
If they could only get word to Trotter! If they could only warn him of the peril that stalked him!
Jane was in the depths. She had tumbled swiftly from the great height to which joy had wafted her; her hopes and dreams, and the castles they had built so deftly, shrunk up and vanished in the cloud that hung like a pall about her. Her faith in the man she loved was stronger than ever; nothing could shatter that. No matter what Scotland Yard might say or do, actuated by enemy injustice, she would never believe evil of him.
And she would not give him up!
"Marchioness," she said at the close of the second day, her blue eyes clouded with the agony of suspense, "is there not some way to resist extradition? Can't we fight it? Surely it isn't possible to take an innocent man out of this great, generous country--"
"My dear child," said the Marchioness, putting down her coffee cup with so little precision that it clattered in the saucer, "there isn't _anything_ that Scotland Yard cannot do." She spoke with an air of finality.
"I have been thinking," began Jane, haltingly. She paused for a moment.
An appealing, wistful note was in her voice when she resumed, and her eyes were tenderly resolute. "He hasn't very much money, you know, poor boy. I have been thinking,--oh, I've been thinking of so many things,"
she broke off confusedly.
"Well, what have you been thinking?" inquired the other, helpfully.
"It has occurred to me that I can get along very nicely on half of what you are paying me,--or even less. If it were not for the fact that my poor brother depends solely upon me for support, I could spare practically all of my salary to--for--"
"Go on," said the Marchioness gently.
"In any case, I can give Eric half of my salary if it will be of any a.s.sistance to him,--yes, a little more than half," said Jane, a warm, lovely flush in her cheeks.
The Marchioness hastily pressed the serviette to her lips. She seemed to be choking. It was some time before she could trust herself to say: