The Yellow Face

by Fred M. White

"Not so bad as I expected," he said. "A broken collar bone and a dislocated ankle. You have had a very narrow escape, Mr. Gillmore. It will be just as well, perhaps, if you moisten your lips with a drop of this excellent brandy."

Gillmore started at the mention of his name, but he did not refuse the proffered stimulant. He saw that he had been caught like a rat in a trap, and, like most of his tribe, was prepared to make the best terms he could for himself, regardless of his confederates.

"You might just as well make a clean breast of it," Seymour said. "You came here at the instigation of Mr. Anstruther. Your task was an easy one for a man of your abilities, but you see I happened to know that you were coming, and that made all the difference. Is that the letter on the table?"

Gillmore growled out something to the effect that it was. Ferris took up the letter, and read it carefully.

"Just as I expected," he murmured to Seymour. "A mysterious communication from Anstruther, only Anstruther's name does not appear upon it. I am threatened with all kinds of pains and penalties if I do not immediately part with the sum of five thousand pounds. And you might tell me what you propose to do with this man."

"Leave him here for the present," Seymour explained. "We can take your doctor into our confidence, and nobody will be any the wiser. It is a very odd thing to me if we don't get some valuable information out of this Gillmore. You may be certain of one thing--he could tell us a great deal about Anstruther if he chose to speak. If you will give me the address of your doctor, I will go off and fetch him at once. Of course, I shall bring him here as if he came to see you. I think you are quite safe with the fellow."

Seymour went off presently, having donned his disguise again, feeling that he had done a good night's work. His first act was to telephone to Bates at Shannon Street police station, and ask if the latter was still keeping an eye on Anstruther. Bates replied in person to the effect that everything possible had been done in that direction. Anstruther returned home about ten o'clock, and at present was amusing himself with his violin in his own study. Bates, moreover, had ascertained that Anstruther had no intention of leaving the house again that night; in fact, he had told one of his servants that he had caught a chill, from all of which it might be gathered that Bates's spy had been very successful in his shadowing of Anstruther.

So far, everything was quite satisfactory. It only remained now to call at Masefield's rooms, and acquaint him with what had happened. But Jack was not in, his landlady informed Seymour; as a matter of fact, she had no idea when he was coming back; indeed, he had gone off somewhere to a fancy dress ball. It was then that Seymour recollected that this was the night of Lady Barmouth's great dance. A little at a loss to know what to do next, Seymour went slowly off in the direction of Panton Square. He hung about Anstruther's house for some little time, still feeling dubious in his mind as to whether the latter was really going out or not. He waited long enough to see a carriage drive up to the door, and in the brilliantly-lighted hall he could see a graceful figure in fancy dress being carefully wrapped up by Anstruther himself, who came down the steps, and saw Claire into the carriage. He appeared to be carefully muffled, and spoke with a strained voice of one who suffers from a bad cold.

"I hope you will enjoy yourself, my dear," he said. "Pray convey to Lady Barmouth my sincere regrets and apologies. In the circumstances I am sure she will excuse me."

The carriage drove off, but still Seymour lingered there, feeling quite sure that this was part of some scheme of Anstruther's. He decided to wait, at any rate, for the present, and for the best part of an hour he paced up and down, till at length his search was rewarded. The light in the study suddenly went out, though Seymour could hear the music still going on, and then another figure emerged from a porch. It was the figure of a man assuredly decked out in some fancy dress; but Seymour was not in the least deceived, and knew perfectly well that he was following Anstruther.