“But I’ve heard lately from half a dozen sources most extraordinary stories. Up at the Moretouns’ at Inversnaid the night before last, they were talking of it at dinner. They were unaware that I knew Statham.”
“Just as the gossips are unaware that the persons who come and go so mysteriously at the Park Lane mansion are secret agents of the great financier,” Rolfe said. “Of course it would not do to say so openly, but that’s who they are. The allegation that they don’t come forth again is, I feel confident, mere embroidery to the tale.”
“But,” exclaimed Max with some hesitation, “has it not ever occurred to you somewhat curious that, so deeply involved in Servian finance, Statham has never sought to solve the mystery of the doctor’s disappearance? Remember, they knew each other. The doctor, when he was in power at Belgrade, was probably the old man’s cat’s-paw. Is it not therefore surprising that he has never expressed a desire to seek out the truth?”
Rolfe held his breath as a new and terrible suspicion arose within him. He had never regarded the affair in that light. Was it possible that his master knew well all the circumstances which had led the doctor to disappear in that manner so extraordinary? Had he really had a hand in it?
Was he the “friend” of whom Sir Charles had spoken in Belgrade?
But no! He would not believe such a thing. Sam Statham was always honest in his dealings—or, at least, as honest as any millionaire can ever be. The man who habitually deals in colossal sums must now and then, of necessity ruin his opponents and wreck the homes of honest men. And strange it is that the world is ever ungrateful. If a very wealthy man gave every penny of his profits to the poor he would only be dubbed a fool or an idiot for his philanthropy.
He recollected that afternoon when, at work in old Sam’s room, he had mentioned the doctor’s sudden departure, and how deftly the old man had turned the conversation into a different channel.
Until two days ago he would hear no word nor believe any ill against the man who had befriended him. But the man’s refusal to assist him to discover the truth concerning the charge against Marion or to order her to be reinstated had turned his heart.
He was now Sam Statham’s enemy, as before he had been his friend.
The two men seated together discussed the matter carefully and seriously for the greater part of the night, and when they parted to go to their rooms they took each other’s hands in solemn compact.