The Mayor of Troy Part 30

"I have gone so far as to suspect it. But what dreadful news is this? Disappeared? Leaving no clue?"

"We are in hopes, my wife and I, that this may afford a clue.

A letter, and addressed to you; it lay upon his writing-table.

We did not feel ourselves at liberty to break the seal. I trust--I sincerely trust--it may put a period to our suspense."

Miss Marty took the letter, glanced at the address and tore the paper open with trembling hands. She perused the first few sentences with a puckered, puzzled brow; then of a sudden her eyes grew wide and round. Despite herself she uttered a little gasping cry.

"It contains a clue at least?" asked Mr. Basket, who had been watching her face anxiously. "Dear lady, what does he say?"

"Nun--nothing," Miss Marty caught at the back of a Chippendale chair for support.

"Nothing?" echoed Mr. Basket blankly.

"Nothing--That is to say I can't tell you. Oh, this is horrible!"

"But pardon me," Mr. Basket insisted. "After travelling all the way from Plymouth!"

"I can't possibly tell you," she repeated.

"But, madam, consider my responsibility! I must really ask you to consider my responsibility."

"If I could only realise it! Oh, give me time, sir!"

"Certainly, certainly; by all means take your time. Nevertheless, when you consider my distress of mind, I appeal to you, madam, to be merciful and relieve it. After travelling all this distance in the dark--"

"In the dark?" queried Miss Marty, with a glance at the window.

"Tormented by a thousand speculations. In my house, too! In good health, and apparently the best of spirits; and then without a word, like the snuff of a candle!"

"His brain must be affected," Miss Marty murmured, gazing at the letter again. The handwriting swam before her. "Excuse me, sir, I will not detain you a minute."

She ran from the room and upstairs to her room, her knees shaking beneath her. Heaven grant that the Doctor was at home! She agitated her window-blind violently and drew it down to the third pane.

"You are wanted--urgent," was the message it conveyed.

Yes, he was at home. "I come, instantly," answered her lover's window; and in less than a minute, to her infinite relief, the Doctor emerged from his front doorway and came bustling up the street almost at a trot.

She ran down and admitted him. In her face he read instantly that something serious had happened; something serious if not catastrophical: but with finger on lip she enjoined silence and led the way to the parlour.

"This gentleman has just arrived from Plymouth, with serious news of the Major."

"Serious? He is not ill, I trust?"

"Worse," said Mr. Basket.

"But first," interposed Miss Marty, "you must read this letter.

Yes, yes!"--blus.h.i.+ng hotly, she thrust it into the Doctor's unresisting hands--"you have the right. Forgive me if I seem indecorous: but in such a situation you only can help me."

"Eh? Oh, certainly--h'm, h'm!--" The Doctor adjusted his gla.s.ses and began to read in a low mumbling voice. By and by he paused, then slowly looked up with pained, incredulous eyes.

"This is some horrible dream!" he groaned and, feeling his way to the Major's armchair, sank into it heavily.

"He swoons!" exclaimed Miss Marty. "One moment--a gla.s.sful of the Fra Angelico!"

She ran to the cupboard, found decanter and gla.s.ses, poured out a dose and came hurrying back with it. He declined it, waving her off with a feeble motion of the hand.

She appealed to Mr. Basket. "Will _you_, sir?"

Mr. Basket confessed afterwards that for the moment, excusably perhaps, he lost his presence of mind. She had motioned to him to administer the dose. He misunderstood. Taking the gla.s.s distractedly, he drained it to the dregs, clapped a hand to his windpipe, and collapsed, sputtering, in a chair facing the Doctor.

"Oh, what have I done?" wailed Miss Marty.

"He deserved it!"

The Doctor pulled himself together, stood erect, and, lurching forward, gripped Mr. Basket by the shoulder.

"Sir, this lady is my affianced wife!"

"Would you--mind--tapping me in the back?" pleaded Mr. Basket, between the catches of his breath.

"Not at all, sir." The Doctor complied. "As I was saying, this lady is my affianced wife. Though Major Hymen were ten thousand times my friend--by placing both hands on your stomach and bending forward a little you will find yourself relieved--though Major Hymen were ten thousand times my friend, it should be over my prostrate body, sir; and so you may go back and tell him!"

"But I can't find him!" almost screamed Mr. Basket.

"He has disappeared!" quavered Miss Marty.

"It's the best thing he could do!" Dr. Hansombody folded his arms and looked at Mr. Basket with fierce decision. "Disappeared? Where?"

They answered him in agitated duetto. "Where indeed?" The Major had vanished, dissolved out of mortal ken, melted (one might say) into thin air. "If one may quote the Bard, sir, in this connection"--Mr.

Basket wound up his recital--"like an insubstantial pageant faded he has left not a rack behind; that is to say, unless the letter in your hands may be considered as answering that description."

"There's only one explanation," the Doctor declared. "The man must be mad."

Mr. Basket considered this for a moment and shook his head. "We left him, sir, in the completest possession of his faculties. In all my long acquaintance with him I never detected the smallest symptom of mental aberration; and last night--good G.o.d! to think that this happened no longer ago than last night!"--Mr. Basket pa.s.sed a hand over his brow--"Last night, sir, I recognised with delight the same shrewd judgment, the same masculine intellect, the same large outlook on men and affairs, the same self-confidence and self-respect--in short, sir, all the qualities for which I ever admired my old friend."

"Nevertheless," the Doctor insisted, "he must have been mad when he penned this letter."

"Of the contents of which, let me remind you, I am still ignorant."

The Doctor glanced at Miss Marty, then handed the letter to Mr.

Basket with a bow. "You have a right to peruse it, sir. You will see, however, that its contents are of a strictly private nature, and will respect this lady's confidence."

"Certainly, certainly." Mr. Basket drew out his spectacles, and, receiving Miss Marty's permission, seated himself at the table, spread out the letter and slowly read it through. "Most extraordinary! _Most_ extraordinary! But you'll excuse my saying that while, unfortunately, it affords no clue, this seems to me as far as possible removed from the composition of a madman." He gazed almost gallantly over his spectacles at Miss Marty, who coloured.

"In any case," he went on, folding up the letter and returning it, "the man must be found. I understand, madam, that you are a relative of his? Has he any others with whom we can communicate?"

"So far as I know, sir, none."

"I have a chaise awaiting me on the other side of the ferry.

With all respect, dear madam, I suggest it; I am sorry indeed to put you to inconvenience--"