“He looked about him, then replied under his breath: ‘I don’t know, but he told me once he had met some queer folk in China, in Shanghai, and I’ve a notion some of those folk may now be in London and have some sort of a down on him.’”
“Did he say anything more?” Johnson inquired.
“Yes. He said he was worried about ‘the Captain,’ thought he ought not to marry, and hinted there was a mystery of some sort about the lady he meant to marry, meaning Miss Hagerston, of course. By the way, Johnson, I suppose you read in the papers that Miss Hagerston and Mrs. Mervyn-Robertson, La Planta, and Stapleton, between them broke the bank at the Casino at Dieppe the other night?”
“I didn’t read about it, but I heard about it.”
“And that reminds me,” Hopford went on, “that I have heard queer rumors about Preston lately. A bank clerk I know, who often gives me scraps of exclusive news, and has never yet let me down, assures me that Preston is being blackmailed. It’s a long story and rather complicated.”
“What, more blackmail?”
“How do you mean ‘more’ blackmail?” Hopford asked quickly, ever on the alert for news.
“I was thinking of a case I heard of the other day,” Johnson replied, anxious to cover his slip of the tongue.
Hopford looked at him hard.
“What the clerk told me,” he said a moment later, “was that Preston would be driven, if not careful, to pay hush money—he mentioned a big sum—to some woman who threatens to reveal something queer about that beautiful Mrs. Hartsilver. I saw Preston not long ago, and thought he looked ill and worried. Have you heard anything by any chance?”