The truth was, he found himself confronted by the most surprising part of an incident which, from start to finish, was at once unlooked-for and bewildering. For, the old man, bereft of his spectacles and beard, stood before Crouch discovered and confessed; and in place of the grey and patriarchal features of the so-called "Mr. Russell" was the seamed and weather-beaten countenance of Rudolf Stork.
[CHAPTER XIX--A Clue]
It may seem surprising that our good friend Captain Crouch (who was very far from a fool) should have been gulled so successfully, and on no less than two occasions, by Rudolf Stork. It must not be forgotten, however, that Stork had been an actor, who knew well not only how to disguise himself, but how to change his voice, and the expression of his face, and to assume those habits and little mannerisms by which personality is made evident. He not only looked the part of an old dry-as-dust professor, but acted up to it so cleverly that both Crouch and Jimmy Burke were quite deceived.
When he found himself overpowered and handcuffed, when he saw how completely he had been duped, Captain Crouch could not conceal his rage and mortification. He shouted at the full power of his lungs, in a vain hope that some one would hear and hasten to his help, forgetful for the moment that the building was utterly deserted, that Mrs. Wycherley was not likely to return.
In any case, Rudolf Stork was not the man to run unnecessary risks; his case was altogether desperate. To silence Crouch by means of a gag, accompanied by a vicious kick in the ribs, was a task of not much difficulty, nor one that took longer than a minute at the most.
Stork then rose to his full height, and placing both arms akimbo, looked down upon his victims, who lay side by side upon the floor.
"If I had killed you out of hand," said he, "you'd have nothing but your own cleverness to blame. You should have learnt by now to let sleeping dogs lie. Let me tell you this, Captain Crouch, as one sailor to another: you set foot on dangerous ground the moment you thought fit to interfere with me."
Going down upon a knee, he turned out their pockets, finding first the keys which Crouch had obtained from Mrs. Wycherley, and then the brace of revolvers that they had purchased that very morning.
"You came prepared, I see," he grumbled. "It's just as well I thought to disguise myself, or, like as not, I should have been shot on sight."
And then, in the inner pocket of Crouch's coat, he discovered the letter written by "Valentine" in German, which had come in a sealed envelope from the "Hotel Magnificent." Without a word, he read it to the end, and then, folding it carefully, put it away in a letter-case which he kept in a hip-pocket along with a jack-knife large enough to cut a loaf of bread.