Meanwhile he gathered together his personal belongings and packed them; he left the drawers of his desk empty, and he put the clothes of Mr. Jones into a large trunk. By the time Mrs. Hicks arrived with her bill he was quite ready. Nor had he left any evidence which would identify Mr. Jones of Westminster with Mr. van Zwieten of St. James's. Beaten he might be, but he would retreat in good order.
"This is my bill, sir," said Mrs. Hicks. "I have charged nothing for the disgrace to my house!"
"Just as well," retorted he. "You would gain nothing by that. There is the money--in cash. I suppose you would prefer it to my check."
"Well, sir," said Mrs. Hicks, softened somewhat by the gold, "you have always paid up like a gentleman, I will say, and I hope they won't hang you!"
"Thank you," said Van Zwieten, drily, as he fastened his glove; "that is very kind of you. I will see after my furniture this afternoon. Is there a cab at the door? All right. Send the man up for my luggage. And, Mrs. Hicks"--he turned on her, as Mrs. Hicks described it afterward, like a tiger--"it will be as well for you to hold your tongue about this business. By the way, how did you know the policeman took away my box?"
"Mary Anne was watching on the stairs, sir, and she saw the policeman come down with it," said the landlady, with dignity. "Oh, I won't say anything, sir, you may be sure. I only want to keep away from the law. I hope you'll be as lucky!" and Mrs. Hicks bowed her suspicious guest out of the house. She was immensely relieved when she saw his cab drive round the corner.
In another ten minutes Mr. Jones was transformed into Mr. van Zwieten, and was established in his rooms in Duke Street, St. James's. But he had no intention of staying there long. The place was evidently too hot to hold him, or would be unless he could threaten and bully Lady Jenny and Wilfred into surrender of that precious box. In any event, his great desire was to go south. His work in England was done, and well done. Even Leyds acknowledged that. But for Van Zwieten's report of the rusty condition of the British army; the out-of-date ordnance; the little way these islanders had of putting incompetent men in office, to be rendered still more incompetent by an antiquated system of red-tapeism; and the inconceivable folly practiced of allowing the civil power to override the opinion of military experts; but for all these things the Republics--well armed though they were--would not have declared war. The world was amazed at their daring. But their two Presidents knew what they were about, and so did Leyds. His business it was to spread reports which would gain the sympathy of the Continental Powers; that of the burghers to hurl themselves on the British, all unprepared as they were through the folly of the peace party. Now that the glove had been thrown down, Van Zwieten was all eagerness to get to the front. How useful he could be to his adopted country at this juncture! But were he in the British camp as war correspondent to an English newspaper, his usefulness would be trebled. And now it seemed as though his enemies were to upset all these plans by this one coup!
However, there was nothing for it now but to face them bravely and learn the worst. Then he could take what steps were possible to frustrate them.
Meanwhile Brenda was pouring out her troubles to Lady Jenny Malet and telling her all about Van Zwieten and his threats. She had gone there full of anxiety to enlist the little widow's sympathies, and of indignation at the charge made by the Dutchman against Harold. Having made herself as clear as she knew how, and having related all the facts, she waited with some impatience for Lady Jenny's opinion, which was not immediately forthcoming. Indeed, it was some time before she spoke.
The drawing-room was both tastefully and extravagantly furnished. Lady Jenny might be a spendthrift, but she was also an artist, and alas! her period of splendor was drawing to a close. Already Chippingholt Manor had been sold to gratify the greedy creditors of its late owner. The house in Curzon Street was her own property under her marriage settlement, and this with ten thousand pounds from the insurance office was all she had in the world. So by the advice of her lawyer she had invested the money and let the house furnished. Now she was going abroad to practice economy in some continental town. All her plans were made; and this was the last week of her prosperity. She only lingered in England at the express request of Wilfred, who had made her promise to help him all she could to trap Van Zwieten. Brenda had come on the same errand; and now Lady Jenny sat and pondered how much she could tell her about the man.