The Lost Million Part 29

He moved about so quickly, and with so many precautions, that we never could lay hands upon him. Indeed, it is said that he kept two ex-agents of police, whose duty it was to watch us, and keep him informed regarding our movements. His was, indeed, a master mind--a greater man than your a.s.sociate, Harvey Shaw."

"What were the charges against Arnold?" I asked eagerly. "Why were you so anxious to secure his arrest?"

"Oh, there were a dozen different charges," he replied. "But now he is dead, let his memory as a very remarkable man rest in peace. Our present action concerns the man Shaw. Where did you visit him in England?"

"He visited me at my house, Upton End."

"And you did not visit him?"

"I saw him twice at the Carlton Hotel in London, and once at the Adelphi Hotel in Liverpool."

"And you declare that you have no knowledge of his offences?" asked the official shrewdly.

"If I had, I certainly should not have accepted his invitation to come here on a motor-tour," was my quick reply.

"And the girl? You mean to say that you have no suspicion of her offence?"

"Her offence!" I cried. "Tell me--I beg of you to tell me!--what allegation there is against her."

"Ah, my dear m'sieur, of that you will know soon enough," replied the detective, again stroking his beard. "I fear that, if your ignorance of the truth is not feigned, the revelations forthcoming will--well, greatly astonish you."

"But surely Mademoiselle is not a criminal!" I cried, staring at him in dismay.

"Wait and hear the evidence against her."

"I will not believe it."

"Ah! because you are enamoured of her--eh, Monsieur Kemball?" exclaimed the great detective, with a shrewd twinkle in his large brown eyes. "A man is always loath to believe that his well-beloved can do wrong.

_Bien_! I urge you to wait and see what the revelations bring forth--to carefully weigh over the hideous story before giving further thought to her."

"I need no advice. Monsieur," I protested angrily. "If you make allegations, you should surely tell me their nature."

"That is for you to discover," he answered, with a crafty smile. "You have refused to a.s.sist me; therefore I, in turn, refuse to satisfy your curiosity."

"You have arrested me because I happen to be on friendly terms with this man and his daughter. Therefore surely I may be told the offence alleged against them," I protested in anger.

"The fact you have revealed--namely, that Shaw and Melvill Arnold were friends--is quite sufficient to prove what I really suspected. The man's ident.i.ty is made entirely plain, even though you refused to give me information."

"They are my friends," I remarked resentfully.

"Perhaps they will be so no longer when you know the actual truth concerning them," he said, smiling grimly.

"And what is this terrible charge against them, pray?"

"Have I not already told you that you will know quite soon enough?" was the prompt reply of the renowned detective, whose name was as a household word in France; and his two companions smiled.

The telephone bell rang, and one of them took up the receiver and listened.

Then he handed it to Tramu, who, from his words, I gathered, was speaking with the commissary of police at the Gare du Lyon, in Paris, asking that an incoming train should be carefully watched.

"Thank you. Advise me as soon as it arrives," he added, and placing the receiver down, he rang off.

Again he returned to the attack, endeavouring to discover from me where in England Shaw had hidden himself. But I was just as evasive as he was himself. I was fighting for the woman I loved. I told him vaguely that they lived in the North of England in order to mislead him, but I declared I did not know their actual place of residence.

But he only smiled incredulously, replying--

"Monsieur is enamoured of Mademoiselle. I have watched you both for two days past, and I know that you are aware of her address in England."

This man had actually been watching us, while we had been all unconscious of espionage! Fierce anger again rose within me. I admitted to myself that I had acted foolishly in a.s.sociating with a man whom I knew to be a fugitive from justice; but it certainly never occurred to me that I might be subjected to such an ordeal as that I was undergoing.

Alternatively threatening, coaxing, warning, and gesticulating, Tramu, a past-master in the art of interrogation, cross-examined me until the first rose-flush of dawn showed through the window. But he obtained nothing more from me. I told him frankly that, as he refused to give me any information, I, on my part, would remain dumb.

His annoyance was apparent. He had expected me to meekly relate all I knew, but instead he found that I could be as evasive in my answers as he was clever in putting his questions. In turn quite half a dozen police officials entered the room and regarded me with considerable curiosity, until in anger I cried--

"This action of yours, Monsieur Tramu, is disgraceful! I know this is your abominable French police system, but I demand that word of my arrest be sent to the British Consul, with whom I shall lodge complaint."

"My dear m'sieur," laughed the man with the tiny red b.u.t.ton in his lapel, "that will be quite unnecessary. I think at this late hour we may now! dispense with your further presence. You are free to go;" and addressing a man in uniform, he added, "Bring in the chauffeur."

I turned upon my heel and left the room, but as I went along the corridor I saw at the farther end Harris seated between two uniformed officers.

Surely they would obtain no information from him, for he had only been engaged for the tour, and knew nothing further of Harvey Shaw or of Asta except--ah! he might know their address at Lydford!

So I shouted along the corridor to him:

"Harris! Don't tell them Mr Shaw's address in England, whatever you do."

"Right you are, sir," he replied cheerily. "This is a funny job, ain't it, sir? They arrested me in bed."

"Where's Mr Shaw?"

"Don't know, sir. I suppose he and Miss Asta are in here somewhere,"

was his reply, as they ushered him into the room where the great Tramu awaited him.

On my return to the hotel the sleepy night-porter admitted me.

No; he had seen nothing of Monsieur Shaw or of Mademoiselle.

Hastily I ascended the stairs to our suite of apartments, but they were not there. The beds had not been slept in, but their baggage had been piled up--evidently by the police, in readiness for removal and examination. The drawers and wardrobes had evidently been searched after their arrest, for the rooms were in great disorder.

In my own room, during my absence, everything had been turned topsy-turvy. The lock of my steel dispatch-box had been broken and its contents turned out upon the bed. In France, when the police make a domiciliary visit, they certainly do it most thoroughly.

Was it possible that in examining the effects of Shaw and Asta the police had ascertained the address of their hiding-place in England?

I stood in the centre of the room gazing at the heap of papers and letters upon the bed, apprehensive and bewildered.

Returning below, I induced the big Swiss night-porter to rouse the manager; and some ten minutes later the latter came to me in trousers and coat, evidently not in a very good-humour at being disturbed.

He seemed surprised to see me there, and I said with a laugh--