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I told him, giving him a few details concerning my parentage and my possessions.
"And what would you be prepared to settle on my daughter, providing I gave my consent? Have you thought of that matter?"
I confessed that I had not, but that I would be ready, if she so desired, to settle upon her twenty thousand pounds.
"And that wouldn't cripple you--eh?"
"No, I'm pleased to say it would not. I have kept my inheritance practically intact," I added.
"Well, I must first hear what Sylvia has to say," he said; then he added airily, "I suppose you would make over the greater part of your estate to her, in case of your death? And there are life a.s.surances, of course? One never knows what may happen, you know. Pardon me for speaking thus frankly. As a father, however, it is my duty to see that my daughter's future is safeguarded."
"I quite understand all that," I replied, with a smile. "Of course, Sylvia would inherit all I could legally bequeath to her, and as for life a.s.surances, I would insure myself for what sum you suggest."
"You are young," he said. "Insure for ten thousand. The premiums would be not so very heavy."
"As you wish," I replied. "If I carry out your desires, I understand that I have your consent to pay my attentions to Sylvia?"
"If what you tell me proves, on inquiry, to be the truth, Mr.
Biddulph, I shall have the greatest pleasure in welcoming you as my son-in-law. I can't say more," he replied. "Here's my hand," and as I took his, he gripped me heartily. "I confess I like you now," he added, "and I feel sure I shall like you more when I know more concerning you."
Then he added, with a laugh--
"Oh, by the way, I'm not known here as Pennington, but as Du Cane. The fact is, I had some unfortunate litigation some time ago, which led to bankruptcy, and so, for business reasons, I'm Arnold Du Cane. You'll understand, won't you?" he laughed.
"Entirely," I replied, overjoyed at receiving Pennington's consent.
"When shall we meet in London?"
"I'll be back on the 10th--that's sixteen days from now," he replied.
"I have to go to Brussels, and on to Riga. Tell Sylvia and dear old Shuttleworth you've seen me. Give them both my love. We shall meet down at Middleton, most certainly."
And so for a long time we chatted on, finis.h.i.+ng our cigars, I replying to many questions he put to me relative to my financial and social position--questions which were most natural in the circ.u.mstances of our proposed relations.h.i.+p.
But while we were talking a rather curious incident arrested my attention. Pennington was sitting with his back to the door of the lounge, when, among those who came and went, was a rather stout foreigner of middle age, dressed quietly in black, wearing a gold pince-nez, and having the appearance of a French business man.
He had entered the lounge leisurely, when, suddenly catching sight of Sylvia's father, he drew back and made a hurried exit, apparently anxious to escape the observation of us both.
So occupied was my mind with my own affairs that the occurrence completely pa.s.sed from me until that same night, when, at ten o'clock, on descending the steps of White's and proceeding to walk down St.
James's Street in the direction of home, I suddenly heard footsteps behind me, and, turning, found, to my dismay, the Frenchman from Manchester quietly walking in the same direction.
This greatly mystified me. The broad-faced foreigner in gold pince-nez, evidently in ignorance that I had seen him in Manchester, must have travelled up to London by the same train as myself, and must have remained watching outside White's for an hour or more!
Why had the stranger so suddenly become interested in me?
Was yet another attempt to be made upon me, as Shuttleworth had so mysteriously predicted?
I was determined to show a bold front and defy my enemies; therefore, when I had crossed Pall Mall against St. James's Palace, I suddenly faced about, and, meeting the stranger full tilt, addressed him before he could escape.
Next moment, alas! I knew that I had acted injudiciously.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE MAN IN THE STREET
I had asked the Frenchman, rather angrily I fear, why he was following me, whereat he merely bowed with the exquisite politeness of his race, and replied in good English--
"I was not aware of following m'sieur. I regret extremely if I have caused annoyance. I ask a thousand pardons."
"Well, your surveillance upon me annoys me," I declared abruptly. "I saw you spying upon me in Manchester this afternoon, and you have followed me to London!"
"Ah, yes," he replied, with a slight gesticulation; "it is true that I was in Manchester. But our meeting here must be by mere chance. I was unaware that monsieur was in Manchester," he a.s.sured me in a suave manner.
"Well," I said in French, "yours is a very lame story, monsieur. I saw you, and you also saw me talking to Mr. Pennington in the Midland Hotel. Perhaps you'll deny that you know Mr. Pennington--eh?"
"I certainly do not deny that," he said, with a smile. "I have known Monsieur Penning-ton for some years. It is true that I saw him at the Midland."
"And you withdrew in order to escape his observation--eh?"
"Monsieur has quick eyes," he said. "Yes, that is quite true."
"Why?"
"For reasons of my own."
"And you deny having followed me here?"
He hesitated for a second, looking straight into my face in the darkness.
"Come," I said, "you may as well admit that you followed me from Manchester."
"Why should I admit what is not the truth?" he asked. "What motive could I have to follow you--a perfect stranger?"
"Well, as a matter of fact, I'm a bit suspicious," I declared, still speaking in French. "Of late there was a desperate attempt upon my life."
"By whom?" he inquired quickly. "Please tell me, Monsieur Biddulph; I am greatly interested in this."
"Then you know my name?" I exclaimed, surprised.
"Certainly."
"Why are you interested in me?"
"I may now have a motive," was his calm yet mysterious reply. "Tell me in what manner an attempt has been made upon you?"
At first I hesitated, then, after a second's reflection, I explained the situation in a few words.