THE DOINGS OF MORTIMER KANE

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1509, 31 January 1901, Page 7

THE DOINGS OF MORTIMER KANE

(By Cecil Hayter.)

THE STOLEN PAPER

I was sitting in the club one afbei?noon, enjoying my, coffee and a cigarette after luncheon, when who should come up and speak to me but the Duke of A 1 tringhara.- . ; ;. rt- : I Ihave not, as a rule, been absolutely pestered by the attentions of the great ones of this earfch: r so I was not a-, little surprised, especially as my acquaintance with the Duke was of the slightest. I noticed that he was , looking very 21 and worried, as if he had seme trouble' on his mind. , . . , .

“Mr Winston,’’ said he,. “forgive nay interrupting you for a few minutes, but" I hear that you are a great friend of . Mortimer Kane’s. yon tell m& whether it is true thatdiehas a marvellous knack of discovering things that puzzle everybody else; [s it true*m fact, that .he is., a sort _cdL. second! Mobs. , Ip €k>q ? r Believe me,he added,] ? ‘I .am not Peking out of in dre ] curiosity. If half that is whispered, of him is true, it seems to me-that he. is the one person who "may help me out of a difficulty which I , find myself . in, and I should be infinitely obliged if you. could get me an introduction to’him.'* “I can do better than that] Duke,” I-answered.. “I can take you round his robffis at once. if Abu care to come.”

We drove round to ■ Golden square, and, as* I expected, Kane was in. was one of his "rest orgies,” and he

wa» dawdling about , surrounded by newspapers and his beloved chess boards, working out- interminable problems.

I introduced the Duke, and made a gtove as though to go, but the latter egged me not to let his business drive me away, so I stayed. “Mr Kane," the Duke began, have been hearing very wonderful things of your ability. lam- in desperate straits, and Mr Winston here assured me that you would be kind enough to give me your assistance. I think the quickest, way of putting you 'in possession of the facts of the case will be, if you allow me, to tell you my story in my owii way, and then you can ask me'any questions you choose. “To begin, tnen, on Friday afternoon last, at about half-past three, I was sitting in my study in Carlton house terrace, my daughter and my secretary being in the room. In the middle of soma important work I was engaged l on, I was interrupted by the entrance of a certain Mr Gerald Langton, of whom you may possibly have heard. He is one of the cleverest, most daring and most unprincipled young men in London, and, I grieve to say it, a vague connection of my own. The matter about which he came to see me is irrelevant and of no consequence, but by bad misfortune -it happened that, at the moment of his arrival, there was lying face downwards on my table a of absolutely vital importance to —well, in short, to the honour of my family. I had taken it from my private safe only some ten minutes previously. Neither my daughter nor my secretary is even aware of its existence; ever one of the greatest dreads is that my daughter should ever have any knowledge ot‘ it. I cannot, even to you, give any details as to the contents, for by so doing I should break my trust. Hut this much I can say, that if that paper, falling into unscrupulous hands, were to be published broadcast to the world, there would be such an uproar and such a scandal, the consequences would b© so terrible that neither I nor any member of my family could ever show our faces in England. Eevery househould, I suppose," continued the Duke, with a wan smile on his handsome old face —“ every household has its skeleton in the cupboard, and this paper contains the key that would most effectually unlock mine, and flaunt its contents shamelessly in the glaring daylight. Tlidre are not more that five people at present living who are even aware of the existence of this terriblo secret • but, again, un fortunately, Gerald Langton has knowledge of it; how, I cannot guess. Not only has he knowledge of it, but his knowledge was so certain that he recognised the paper at a glance; I should state that it was wrapped in a thin oiled silk cover and sealed. There were numerous documents of all sorts lying about, but no sooner had he caught sight of it than his gaze never left it. I was about to pick it up and put it back in my safe, when an exclamation from my daughter made me turn, round. When I turned back the paper was gone—and so was Langton. It all happened in less than five seconds. He was standing close to the table, my daughter and secretary were at the far e>ndi_of the room looking iSr some book she wanted', and yet in the time I took to turn round, speak a sentence, and turn back, Langton and the paper nad vanished. He knew that I dared not risk a scene with the servants over it, -dared not even ask him for it point blank so long as there were people about—and so he risked it. More, he even had the audacity to wish me goodbyd from the far end of the hall as the footman was letting him out. I sent around a messenger at once to his rooms with a carefullv-worded letter ■offering to buy tne paper back from him, but he did not even answer. My first thought, of course, was that he was in want of money, as usual, and would take his price, but by his refusing to answer, I know now that he is playing a far deeper and more dastardly game. He is waiting for the marriage of my daughter, which will infinitely increase the importance of the secret, and he will then take it, not to me, but to — to others—who will give him a fabulous price for it as a means to bring about mjr ruin. It's a hard thing, Mr Kane, when a man cornea to my age, and has tried to live an honourable, upright life, bo find himself face to face with dishonour and disgrace as he nears the close. It's for my daughter and the name I mind more than for myself. And yet if that- paper is not found in four days—four short days, mind —I shall be despised and held in contempt by dvery right-minded person, and my career, such as it is, will he finished, socially, politically, in every way, in fact; for on the fifth my daughter is to be married, and on that day Gerald Langton will act." The poor old Duke drew himself up very straight, and blew his nose very hard. I must say I felt most awfully sorry for him myself, and even Kane polished his nails with extra vigour. But there was no trace of any particular sympathy in his voice as he proceeded to put his questions. “What steps have you taken towards its recovery?" lie asked. “I have done everything that could hd thought of or suggested. I have even gone so far as to allow my agents to proceed 1 in a manner which under any other circumstances I should consider unwarrantable.” “For instance ?"

“Twice I have managed to have his person searched, as I believed that in all probability he would carry the document about with him for greater security. The first time the men I liad engaged trumped up a charge of theft against him, and hd was taken off to a police station, where he underwent a thorough examination. Tht. second time he was attacked walking home late at night from his club through St. James's Park, but with the same result in each case, failure. Of course, lie knetv perfectly well the origin of these two attempts, and is probably highly amused at them."

“Hd has probably lodged the paper at his banker’s."

“No," preplied the old Duke., “he would not do that, nor is lie likely to have passed it into other hands for safe keeping, for this reason: for the document to possess its full powers he must of necessity be able to produce it at almost a moment’s notice; the delay of a few' hours even might seriously interfere] w r ith the success of his plans. I wish I could be more explicit, Mr Kane, but really I dare not. All the same, you can take it as an assured fact, that the paper newer leaves his possession. If found, it will be found either on his person, or in liis rooms."

Kane looked thoughtful for a moment.

“What," said he, presently,

absolutely thei latest moment you can give me to recover it in ?"

“It is now nearly five o'clock, and the day is Thursday. Mr Kan©," said the old Duke, impressively, “the last moment, absolutely the last moment I can give you till will be seven o’clock on Tuesday morning. lr the paper is not in my possession by that time my daughter’s marriage must be broken, off; and she and I—Heaven help us—must leave the country by the early Continental mail on Tuesday. The consequences will be too terrible to contemplate.” “Will you kindly describe the packet as carefully as you can ?" “The paper itself is old, yellow and ragged, covered with writing in a small, cramped hand—the type of writing that w r as fashionable in my young days. The ink is much faded, in places almost illegible. U nfolded, the) ' paper would measure about eisiit inches by four; it is very thin, and folded once lengthways.”' “Thank you,” said Kane. “And this man Langton lives, I think you said, at Marvin Chambers, V ictoria street ?" “Yes. He also belongs to the Vesuvius Club —a small and somewhat disreputable gambling place, I have been told.” “Thank you, Duke. I think that is all I want to know'. I promise nothing, of course, but I hope we. may be successful.”

The Diike of Alttringham rose and moved to the door. He hesitated. “One thing more, Mr Kane. Forgive my seeming ungenerous after your great kindndos, but if by any ciiance you find the paper, and the seals should happen to be broken, or the paper torn in such a way as to lay the contents bare, might I ask you to avoid as far as possible the chance of any one becoming acquainted wdth the contents ? Believe me, I make the request from no selfish reasons.” -

Kang bowed his acquiescence, and showed his visitor out.

“Poor old man," said I, as he returned. “He does seem cut up, doesn’t he ? I wonder what on earth this precious paper is about. Do you think there’s any chance of recovering it ?’’ Kane did not answer, but gazed moodily at the fire. Presently he got up and scribbled a note at his writing table. “Mercury” apnea-red in answer to the bell, and was promptly despatched with the message.

“Come and have a bit of dinner tonight," said I. “Thanks, no,” said Kane. “I have just writtdn to ask myself to dine with Lascelles at the Vseuvius —and now I’m going to turn you out ; I want to- think." The last glimpse I had of him was characteristic; he had already forgotten my presence, and was pouring over his beastly chessboards, apparently absorbed in his occupation. On Friday, and again on Saturday, I called on Kane, for I was curious; but each time “Mercury” lied stolidly and unblushingly, and swore his master was out. Sunday I was busy all day, but on Monday afternoon Kane came for me at the club. He! was looking worried.

“I expected you’d have come round yesterday,” said he. I explained that I had been busy. “Well, ndver mind, vou must- come to-night. 'lf you’re engaged send an excuse. I’ve got a dinner on at the Savoy, and w'ant you to be there." “Right you are/’ said I, “if you’d let me se!e the menu first/' “The dinner will satisfy even a gourmet like yourself. I have suddenly developed symptoms of geniality. After dinneir I have a box at the Gaiety, after that supper, and after that ‘quien sabe.’ But I make one condition, you’ve got to get most infernally drunk."

“I don’t believe I can,” said I. “You must,” said Kane. “It’s to be one of the attractions of the; evening. You needn’t 'be positively uproarious till the end of supper, when the lights are turned out. I’ve had to cut things

awfully fine, and the whole success of my plans depends on it.” “I’ll do my best," said I, and groaned as I thought of the head in store for me. We dined, and dined well. It was only a party of four —Kane, the man lascelles, myself, and Geraict Langton. It was a very convivial gathering. Kane drank like a fish, and urged t-lie others to do the same. I should be sorry to say the number of bottles we frotthrough. We dropped in for an hour at the theatre afterwards: then came supper and more drinks. We were all feeling pretty iollv and pleased with ourselves by this time, and, according to instructions, I did my best to keep up every appearance of unseemly conviviility. Kane was simply superb, and chaffed, smoked, told stories of which the hue was more than pink, and generally kept the ball rolling. “What the deuce shall we do now ?’*’ he, said, as we finally left the supperroom. “It’s too early to go to bed. I propose w r e have a little gamble. Come on, Langton, let’s all adjourn to your rooms; you’ve got seme cards. Steady, old man" ; this to me, and he swayed slightly against me. “For Heaven’s sakt pretend to be drunk, even if you aren’t," he muttered in an aside. *So off wa all went to Victoria street in two hansoms. “I vote we play poker/' said Kane. “Winston’s screwed, so we’ll fleece him" ; and lie/ gave me a vicious hack under the table. “Come! along, you chaps; ten bob ‘ante’ and a fiver limit. But fpr goodness sake let’s have some drinks. I’ve got a throat like a limekiln.” . We played, and I am not overstating the case when I say that the game was erratic. Lascelles and Langton were both pretty far gone. The brandy decantd • was in great request. A last, at a signal from Sane, 1 rose unsteadily, and with diunken gravity announced that I couldn t see the cards. . , . „ “Nonsense, man, you’re all right, said Kane. “Sit down. You re only drunk." . , “I’m not,” I protested thickly. Tm not. I’ll prove I’m not.” The others laughed and jeered. “Well, see if you can walk along that line of the carpet,” said Kane derisively, pointing to a straight border which ran along the edge of it. The others stood up to watch, and betted on the result. “I’ll lay five to one he can’t get round, the room,” said Ivane, as I started off with a preliminary lurch. “No! no! that’s not fair, heel to toe; your feet must touch; and no grabbing hold of things with your hands.” “i’ll takp you,” said I, jumbling up my words, and the other two egged me on with encouraging remarks. All down one side and across'the end I managed well enough, but half way up the next lap I caught my foot, tripped, and fell heavily right across Lanjjtoii’s writing table. Immediately there was a rush, and a scramble, and everybody was busy mopping up ink, picking up , photographs, scattered papers, pens and odds and encis. Then I, in my assumed state of intoxicated solemnity, distinctly saw the sober Kane furtively snatch up a candle which had fallen and stuff it in his trousers pocket whilst Langton’s back was turned. Something approaching order having been restored, Kane became profuse in apologies on my behalf. I even ventured on something of the sort myself, and very little real damage having been done, some ink spilt and a photograph frame broken, they were received ill good part. Suddenly Langton turned round. “Hullo," said he, “there’s a candle missing; it must have rolled somewhere ; just have a look, you fellows." Once more we all scrambled about on hands and knees. Langton rose, his face was pale, and he was sober enough now.

He glanced quickly at us, and as he -caught sight of Kane, he stopped.

“What on earth are you makin’ such a fuss about a beastly candle for ? ’ asked Lascelles. “Come, let’s have a final drink and toddle home.”

Langton brushed him aside. “Tricked, by Heaven!” said he, and sprang straight at Kane’s throat. Kane watched him coming, and hit out right and left full in his face; Langton staggered back. “Jump for it, Winston,” lie said, and swept over the lamp. I hurled the astonished Lascelles out of my light, and before either of them could recover themselves we were racing downstairs at top speed. We leapt into the first hansom we could see, and drove straight to Carlton House terrace. The hour was late, nearly half-past three, but in spite of that Kane pealed the bell loudly. There was still a light in one of the downstair windows, and I guessed it was the poor old Duke awaiting the success or failure of our errand with feverish anxiety. The door was soon opened by the Duke himself, and he admitted us, candle in hand. Kane dismissed the cab, and we adjourned to the library. We hadn’t been there two minutes before Kane started up. “Put that light out, quick,” he said to me. I turned down the lamp, and at the same instant I heard the sound of a cab coming down the street at a gallop. Nearer and nearer it came, slackened an instant at the corner,

and then drew up at the door with

crash and a clatter of hoofs. But the house was now dark, and to all appearance its inmates sound asleep. We heard a man’s- footsteps on the pavement, the front door rattled once or twice, and then Lang_ ton’s voice was raised as he cursed the cabman. “He’ll try Golden square now," whispered Kane ; and sure enough off the cab started, gathering speed as it went, till finally the noise died away in the deserted streets.

“You’ve got it. Mr Kane? You’ve got it?" asked the Duke. For answer Kane produced the candle from his pocket, pulled out a small plug of wax, from the end, and held the hollow part to the Duke. “It’s inside there,” said he, smiling. W r ith trembling fingers the old gentleman plucked out tne cherished paper, and after a- hurried glance/. clutched it to him. “Thank God. Oh Thank God,” he said, and turned away/ from us to hide his emotion.

“But how on earth did yon manage to discover it ?’’ he asked, when he had recovered himself.

“I ingratiated myself with Langton," said Kane, “and got him to invite me -to his rooms once or twice. I knew that as your men had searched, it would be mere waste of time looking m any 01dinary hiding place, so I set my wits to work. But I was fairly puzzled. Once I got an opportunity to examine the room by myself whilst Langton was out, but came away none the wiser. At last I got a clue; it- was on' Saturday evening, and I caught sight of a few shreds of wax m the crevices of his writing desk. The two candles on it were the only ones in the room. I made an excuse to light them, had lighted one, in fact, when Langton, with quite unnecessary anxiety, prevented my lighting the other, though he had been cunning enough to burn some of it himself, to give it a mere natural appearance. After that, I hadn’t got a chance to be in the room alone, so I took Winston with me tonight. and we managed it between us, on the strength of a good dinner. Eh! Winston?"

But I was thinking of the morrow and my head.

“Illustrated London Mail