THE SHORT WAY OUT
"I suppose it's hardly necessary to ask if you found Darcy's letter?" said Kent-Lauriston to the Secretary, as they were returning to the house about an hour later from a trip to the telegraph office, whither Stanley had gone to send a long message in cipher to his Chief.
"Oh, yes," he said. "I have it in my possession."
"Does it give you all the information you required?"
"As a bit of evidence it's overwhelmingly complete—but it gives me some additional information which is not so pleasant," replied the Secretary, who had needed no second glance at the document to assure himself that it was Mr. Riddle's letter and had been once before in his possession.
"I've no desire to pry into your affairs, either private or diplomatic, my dear fellow; but of course I'm able to infer a good deal, and if you felt inclined to assure me, that this made you master of the situation, and placed Darcy completely in your power, it would make me feel very much easier."
"Then you may be quite easy," returned the Secretary. "I hold all the trumps. I could have the Colonel arrested to-night, if I chose, and my evidence is of such a nature that it will practically banish him from his country and from mine."
"That's very satisfactory, but let me caution you to go slow. Darcy is a man of many expedients. I should keep something in reserve, if I were able."
"My instructions insist on practically that course of action."
"I'm very glad to hear it—as you grow older, you'll discover that the shrewdest policy in the game of life, as in the game of whist, is always to keep in hand a card of re-entry. And you may take my word for it, that Darcy is the pivot on which all these little conspiracies revolve. Hold him, and you can dictate terms to both Kingsland and Miss Fitzgerald. By the way, have you succeeded in receiving your congé yet?"
"I haven't yet received a definite answer."
"Answer!—haven't you made it clear to her what that answer is to be?"
"I hope so. In fact, I'm sure she must understand."
"Then if she doesn't refuse you, you'll be quite justified in refusing her."
"I can't be too hard on a woman, Kent-Lauriston."
"But you cannot marry her."
"Not if my suspicions are true, and that my conference with the Colonel to-morrow will prove. Now, don't say any more about it, for I want to go to bed, and try not to think."
Stanley slept little that night, and the arrival of an early telegram from his Minister was a welcome relief. It contained only a brief word of praise, and the information that John, the messenger, would arrive by the ten o'clock train with a letter of instructions, pending the receipt of which he was to take no action. This necessitated an early breakfast, as the station was some distance away. Before leaving, however, he sealed up the precious document he had found in the secret chamber, and entrusted it to his friend's care; begging him, should he not return, through any foul play of the Colonel's, to see it safely delivered to his Chief in London.
As he drove to the train he had plenty to occupy his thoughts. The letter had been more damaging to the cause of the plotters than he could have hoped. There was sufficient evidence to make out a complete case, and only the intended forbearance of the government could shield the Colonel from well-merited disgrace and condign punishment. In this forbearance Stanley saw, so to speak, his card of re-entry: but he did not see that fate was going to force him to play it in the first round of the game. It was true he was here to bring Darcy to justice for crimes committed against the State, but he must not be judged too harshly for desiring to take advantage of his position to force the Colonel to do justice in quarters not political. He had had great provocation, and the man could be relied on to keep his word only when the penalty for breaking it was actual rather than moral.
Filled with these thoughts and impulses, he drew up for a moment on his way to the station at Madame Darcy's cottage, but before he could get down from the high dog-cart she came running out to meet him.
"You have good news," she cried, "I can see it in your face."
"Yes," he said. "I got down, or rather fell down, inside the old tower last night, and I have the precious packet in my possession."
"Ah," she said. "I do not know whether I should be glad or sorry. If it contains what I suspect, it must mean so much to me in many ways."
"It is just for that reason that I stopped to see you," he replied. "I wanted to set your mind at rest."
"Then it does not contain incriminating evidence?" she asked.
"On the contrary, it puts everyone connected with the plot completely in my power."
"But then——" she began.
"But then," he continued, taking up her words, "I hope to be able to save your husband from the fruits of his folly."
"But is that possible?"
"I hope so. I shall tell better after I have seen him. We are to have an interview this morning, and all I can say now is, that you must trust implicitly in me and believe that everything will come out all right in the end."
"I am so selfish that your words make me very happy," said Madame Darcy, "when my heart should be filled with sorrow at the troubles of my friend. This discovery must be a sad blow to you."
"How do you mean?" he said.
"Why, in regard to Miss Fitzgerald."
The Secretary bit his lip.
"It seems impossible," he said tersely, "for us to have a conversation without introducing her name. Surely by this time you must know——"
"I only know what you have told me," she replied.
The Secretary started to say something and then thought better of it, and contented himself by remarking:—
"My eyes have been opened a good deal in the last few days, Inez."
She reached up and took his hand in hers.
"My friend," she said, "I understand."
For a moment there was silence between them, and then pulling himself together, he explained that he was on his way to an appointment. So he left her, smiling at him through her tears, for in these few moments Inez De Costa had found great sorrow and great joy.
The station, a small rustic affair, at which few trains stopped, seemed at first glance to be bare of passengers, and on accosting a porter, the Secretary was informed that he had yet nearly fifteen minutes to wait.
"She's in a siding in the next station now, sir, waiting for the London express to pass; it goes through here in about five minutes, and as soon as the line's clear she'll be along."
Stanley thanked him for his information, and, after spending a minute or two with the station-master, negotiating for a match, he lighted a cigarette and emerged on the little platform. To his surprise he found it tenanted by a solitary figure, and that none other than Mr. Arthur Riddle. If he had any luggage it must have been in the luggage-room, for he was without sign of impedimenta, excepting a stout stick. He wore a long, black travelling cloak, and his white, drawn face and the dark circles under his eyes gave evidence of either a sleepless night or great mental anxiety, perhaps of both. He held in his mouth an unlighted cigar, which he was nervously chewing to pieces. Both men became aware of each other's presence at the same instant; both unconsciously hesitated to advance, and then both came forward. Stanley was the first to speak.
"I wasn't aware that you were leaving, Mr. Riddle."
The man looked at him, with the expression of a hunted animal driven to bay; a fear of something worse than death in his eyes.
"How could you think I should do otherwise, after your discoveries of last night?"
"I think you're making a mistake. But I shan't try to prevent you. I've no fear of losing you even in London. I could lay hands on you where I wished."
"My journey is much farther afield than London."
"There are extradition laws."
"Not where I'm going," he said.
A shrill whistle smote the air, and the porter came hurrying out on the platform, crying:—
"The express, gentlemen, the express! Stand back, please!"
Stanley noticed that unconsciously they had drawn rather near the edge.
"Look out!" he said to Mr. Riddle. "The express is coming!"
"In a moment," replied that gentleman. "I've just dropped my cigar," and indeed it was lying at his feet.
"Hurry up, then, the train is on us! You've no time to lose!"
"I've time enough," he replied, bending deliberately forward.
Some grim note in his voice awoke the Secretary to his true intentions. There was only a second's leeway, the iron monster was even then bursting out of the railway arch at the further end of the platform, with the roar and rush of tremendous speed. Mr. Riddle was bending far forward, overreaching his cigar, making no attempt to get it—was——
Stanley flung his arms about his adversary's waist, and made a superhuman effort to drag him back.
"You meddling fool, let me alone!" shouted the other.
"No!" panted the Secretary.
"Then come too!" he cried, and rising up, he threw his arms about him, and gathered himself to spring on to the rails in front of the train. All seemed over, the cry of the porter rang in Stanley's ears, the rattle of the train deafened him, the hot breath of the engine seemed blowing in his face. Then somehow his foot caught his opponent's, and the next instant they were falling—to death or life—he could not tell.
A second later they lay prone on the platform. The express had passed them, and vanished in a cloud of dust.
In a moment the porter was assisting them to arise.
"A narrow escape for Mr. Riddle," said the Secretary to the porter, as he picked himself up and recovered his hat, which had rolled to one side. "A very narrow escape from what might have been a nasty accident."
"Accident!" exclaimed the porter, with a sarcasm which spoke louder than words.
"I said accident," replied Stanley, slipping a sovereign into the man's hand, and looking him straight in the eyes.
"Oh, quite right, sir. Accident it was. Thank ye, sir," and the porter shuffled off, leaving them alone.
"I suppose you think you've been very clever," said Mr. Riddle, when they were by themselves, "but I'll cheat you yet, never fear," and his hand unconsciously sought a hidden pocket.
"You need be under no apprehensions," the Secretary replied calmly. "I shan't interfere to save your life again, or to prevent you from taking it. I was moved to act as I did solely for the reason that I couldn't bear to see any man throw away so priceless a possession, owing to a misapprehension."
"A misapprehension!" he said, startled.
"Yes. You were desperate enough to contemplate committing suicide, because you supposed you would inevitably be disgraced and punished."
Riddle nodded.
"Well, supposing that this were not the case?"
"What do you mean?" he cried, his face lighting up with the return of hope.
"I mean that it's in my power to let you go free."
The man's face fell.
"But there are conditions," he said.
"There are no conditions."
"How about the Company?"
"It will not be proceeded against, out of a desire to avoid publicity. Both governments will be informed confidentially of the true state of affairs, and it will be carefully watched in the future. If the Company is circumspect, it will be safe. We merely wish to ensure the passage of the Treaty. That is done already. Of course, considering the hands to which you have confided it, you will probably lose your £40,000."
"I should refuse to receive it under the circumstances."
"So I supposed. I'm expecting a messenger with important instructions from London, so must await the arrival of the down train. If you'll take a seat in the dog-cart, I'll join you presently."
Mr. Riddle bowed, took a few steps in the direction desired, and then pausing, swung round and faced the Secretary, saying:—
"What return can I make you for saving my life?"
"I've only followed my instructions," he replied. "You owe me nothing. I admit, though, that my impulse to save you arose strongly from the fact that I believed you were fitted for better things."
"I am, Mr. Stanley, I am. Believe me, with this exception, I've lived a clean life. I was swept into this thing by the force of circumstances, and in the hope of saving a rotten concern, whose downfall might have ruined hundreds of innocent persons."
"I believe you," said the Secretary. "Here comes the train. I shall expect to find you in the dog-cart."