The envelope was shabby and dirty, and the address was written in pencil. Mr. French tore the thing open, and read:
"Dear French,—I've bottled him. I'm scribbling this with pencil as I have got no ink, and I don't know how I will post it. Anyhow, I'm writing it on the chance of finding some means of doing so. I got Giveen up to my rooms in town, and when I had him there I didn't in the least know what to do with him. The beast hates you. I got it all out of him by pretending you were an enemy of mine.
"He told me straight out that he was going to set Lewis on you, and, upon my soul, there were moments on the journey up to town when I could have flung him out of the railway carriage. Anyhow, when I got him to my rooms, a brilliant idea occurred to a friend of mine whom I consulted. I hired a motor-car, bought some provisions, got Giveen into the car, and motored him down here to a cottage which belongs to an uncle of mine, and which he used for duck-shooting.
"It's the most God-forsaken place in the world, on the Essex coast; not a soul within miles, only sea-gulls. Of course, Giveen bucked coming down, but only mildly. A happy thought occurred to me, and I pretended to be slightly balmy. I told him I was the King of Siam—that quieted him. He's dead certain he's in the grip of a lunatic, and asks no questions. I make him do the cooking, such as it is, and the washing up.
"I never let him out of my sight for a moment, and I sleep at night with my bed drawn across the door. The whole thing is like what you'd read of in a book; but it's too awful for words. He can talk about nothing, and we are living on tinned meat and biscuits, and now my tobacco is giving out. I'd ask you to send me some, only I daren't, for if the postman came here, Giveen would be sure to make a bid for freedom.
"Be sure I will stick to him, like grim death, and give my kind regards to all at The Martens."
French read this important despatch to Miss Grimshaw as they sat at breakfast, and the girl listened with sparkling eyes.
"I always hated motor-cars," said she, when he had finished. "But I'll never hear a word against them again. Wasn't it clever of him? And the cleverest thing in the whole business is the King of Siam part, for if there's any bother afterwards, he can put the whole affair down to a practical joke. There are only five days now to the 13th. You are moving the horse to Major Lawson's stables at Epsom on the 13th, aren't you?"
"I am," said French. "I had a letter from him only yesterday, asking after the colt. By George, but I believe we'll pull the thing through, after all!"
He rose from the table in high excitement, went to the window, and stood, jingling the keys in his pocket and gazing at the view. It seemed to him that at last fortune was beginning to make a way for him. A few days only separated him from his goal. If Bobby Dashwood could only keep Giveen "bottled" till the 13th, or even the 12th, all would be well. Could he do this? Time alone could answer that question.
CHAPTER XXVI
It will be remembered that the night of the 5th of April was the date of the kidnapping of Mr. Giveen. Early in the morning of the 6th Mr. Dashwood awoke from his slumbers with a start, looked around him, and remembered.