[CHAPTER XIII.]
THE BAZAAR.
For the next few days Vernon vainly grappled with the new problem which Lady Corsoon's information had supplied. That The Spider should offer the millionaire's wife a fortune of ten thousand pounds per annum on condition of receiving the income for the first year scarcely surprised the young man, for he already suspected The Spider to be connected with Diabella, if, indeed, the creature was not that famous individual herself. But it seemed odd that the arch-criminal should interest himself in Maunders' affairs, even to assisting to bring about the marriage with Lucy. Could it be possible that Maunders was one of the gang?
Vernon recalled that after Mrs. Bedge's confession of poverty he had suspected Maunders in this respect, since the young man apparently contrived to live like a prince on nothing a year. He did not receive much from his aunt and he did not earn an income, so it was possible that in some shady way he managed to become possessed of sufficient money to gratify his extravagant tastes. Maunders also being in the vicinity of the library on the occasion of the conversation with the late Mr. Dimsdale, must have heard the suggested arrangement of the trap. But then, as Vernon recalled, Miss Hest had stated in quite an innocent way how Maunders had been with her all the evening and could not thus have had anything to do with the crime at "Rangoon." Vernon's suspicions had been banished by Miss Hest's assertions, but they now revived in full force after Lady Corsoon's communication. He had made her show him the letter, and it proved to be similar to the earlier epistle of The Spider, even to the ideograph at the end. Apparently it was genuine enough, and, if genuine, Maunders must be connected in some way with the blackmailer. No other explanation was feasible.
Had Maunders been in London Vernon would have gone straight to tax him with his possible complicity, but the young man was at Bowderstyke and so, for the moment, could not be questioned. But, sooner or later, he would return to London, and then Vernon intended to force him to explain. Meanwhile it seemed best to seek out Diabella at the Bazaar for the Homeless Hindoos and threaten her with arrest unless she explained how she had come to let The Spider know Martin Dimsdale's secret. Also, she might supply the connecting link between The Spider and Maunders. Vernon was rather surprised at Diabella's daring in thus making a public appearance, but he supposed that his ruse had been successful, and that the fortune-teller, not having been openly searched for, presumed that Colonel Towton had taken no steps. If she had learned that Towton was to be at the fête she might have declined to risk exercising her profession; but she had no reason to believe that he would be present, and thus dared the danger. But, never suspecting Vernon, he could enter the tent and tear off her mask, which was what he intended to do at the first opportunity.
The young man hesitated whether to tell Inspector Drench or to remain silent until more satisfied as to the hidden connection between Diabella and The Spider. After reflection, he decided to carry through the matter himself. By removing the waxen mask he would at least learn what Diabella was like, and perhaps, if brought to bay, she would speak out to save her skin. Then, when he knew more, he might venture to call in the aid of the police. It was a dangerous business, and perhaps Vernon would have been better advised had he taken more precautions against the woman's escape; but the evidence against her was so vague, and there appeared to be so much to clear up, that he doubted if Drench would be able to arrest her on the bare suspicion. At all events, after turning the matter over in his mind Vernon started by himself for the bazaar, resolved to act on his own initiative. He told no one of the second letter from The Spider to Lady Corsoon, not even Colonel Towton. So that military gentleman, ignorant of what was taking place, lingered in his chambers or idled at the Athenian Club, fretting over his inaction and longing for some chance to display his generalship. A very natural feeling, considering the Colonel's active mind.
The Georgian Hall was a huge repository of Hanoverian relics in South Kensington, and consisted of many moderately large apartments encircling a spacious central room. This was used for concerts, balls, meetings, fêtes, and such-like entertainments requiring ample scope for their celebration. The minor halls were dedicated to the display of objects connected with the rule of the House of Brunswick, and dating from the reign of the first monarch of the dynasty. Memorials of warfare on land and at sea were here, together with pictures of famous events, and collections of old-world things dealing with social life of the various epochs. One room was filled with figures representing the male and female garbs of the different reigns; another displayed china and silver and glass of the several periods; and a third room held quaint furniture, recalling the tales of Jane Austen. The political and social and military history of England was contained in the museums, and from this fact the hall took its name, since the objects dated only from The Act of Succession. It was an interesting place and well worth the patronage which it received from the idle public.
On this occasion the central room was filled with gaily-decorated stalls in divers colours, on which were displayed modern luxuries likely to appeal to the purses of the self-indulgent. Society beauties, charming actresses, and celebrated lady novelists presided over the booths of this Vanity Fair, and did a large trade by their fascinating personality alone. Vernon, accurately dressed, as became a young man about town, managed to elude these sirens, who would have cajoled every shilling out of his pocket, and walked into the grounds at the back of the Hall, where, Mrs. Crimer had informed him, the tent of Diabella was to be found. It was a sunny afternoon, as the flippant lady had desired, and the spacious gardens looked extremely pretty with flags and tents and flowers and general greenery. Games of all kinds were going on, and the place resembled a fair with its crowd of laughing people, who were enjoying themselves thoroughly. So far as could be judged, the Homeless Hindoos would benefit largely by the bazaar, as it apparently was a great success. No prettier function had taken place during the season.
"'I must see who you are,' cried Vernon, and pulled her
hands away." Page 180.