THE LUCK OF THE DARRELLS
[Published bv Special Aekanceuent.]
BY ERNEST TREETON,
Author of “Tho Instigator,” “Her Double Life,” “I be Saving of Christian Sorgison,” “The Gorina* Mystery.” etc., etc. COPYRIGHT. CHAPTER XXVI. As ho never did things by halves. Inspector Wadgo had goon cause to hatter himself. Such was xhe case to-night, when a number of Dady Glyndale’s guests indulged themselves in a second look at Senor Don Miguel Sanvaldo. Tnero was not much Weage leit in the Sonor. In his evening drect! tho inspector was quite Spanish, and a grandee of Spain nt that. In spire oi himself, and of tho seriousness of tho moment Glyndulo smiled as ho and the Countess received the Don. “His Excellency is Mr Wodgo, Isabella,'' he said to Dady Uiyndale. amusedly, as the Scotland Hard Spaniard shook hands. “I did not tell you at the time 1 asked .you to send the invitation. He should bo our next Spanish ambassador at St, James’s, don't you think?” ‘‘vv’hat a wonderful man you are, Mr Wedgo!” exclaimed tho Countess, for tho Don’s solo benefit. "I really shouldn't have known you.” “Thank you. ’-our ladyship,” acknowledged Wedge, drily again. “If I am •such a conundrum as all that I shall do.” Glyndalo had .tiro loiter from do Brocas in his pocket; but the present moment was not opportune > for making Wedgo acquainted with it, and His Excellency thq Don passed on to mingle with tho distinguished company. As he wont his way ho encountered Doris, coming through tho salon to join tho earl and couufoss.. He taw that she was looking pale and worn, weary and faded. Her anxiety for Stafford’s fate, the mystery of his vanishing, anti the prolonged silence were wearing her nerves with distress into shreds, and would soon be breaking her down. “Good evening Dady Doris,” ho greeted her bringing her to a pause. Doris looked at him inquiringly, with lose and puzzlement written in her face, whether she would have them there or not. “Good evening,” she replied, “but I have not the pleasure of being able to remember your name.” “I am Senor Don Miguel Sanvaldo Wedge,” he replied whimsically easing her of her perplexity. Then she smiled amusedly, if wanly. “Oh! Mr Wedge!” she exclaimed. “Sh—sh!” ha checked her drolly. “Yea, I am Inspector Wedge, but I’ve got to ba a stick of Spanish to-night. Don’t forgot—Senor Don Miguel Sanvaldo, with as many castles ats you like to give me.” “You aro no hidalgo, then?” sho rejoined, trying to' enter into his humour, which, for him, was a novel outburst. “Oh, no,” he rejected; “nothing &o common. Anything you like in the shape of a grandee from Old Castile, but nothing so cheap as the lowest order of Spanish nobility. Hidalgo? Avaunt 1” Doris smiled again. Beinr* inclined to bo paternal, that was what Wedge wanted. He had lifted her a littlo out of herself. “Well; I am very glad you have come,” she said. “I have boon wanting—waiting—to see you. Have you a moment, or two, now?” “My dear young lady,” replied Wedgo, with amazing gallantry; “I shall be most happy to give you not only two momenta, but two hours—if other people 1 will lot me—and every particle of attention of which I am callable as well.” Turning aside to the settee against the wall of the salon, they sat down. “Have you been able to find any trace of Mr Stafford?” Doris asked at once. “I mean, sine© yoir went to Cloister street, and told mo that, if alive, bo was not more than a mile away from the Abbey.” Wedge had anticipated the question, and he tried now to be as little doubtful as possible. “Not yot,” ho replied. “But don’t let it distress you too much. ' Wo shall find him presently, never tear.” “You have not been to the hous*. again, then?” she inquired, a littlo curiously. “No—not inside," returned Wedge, set to wondering by her tone. “Weli.” Doris continued; "I have not mentioned it yet, but I have been there myself—inside, I mean." “Whatl” exclaimed Wedge, surprised into hardly elegant emphasis. “Inside?" “Yes,” Doris confirmed simply. "And you saw tho hunchback —Sloop?’’ asked Wedge again, getting more amazed. “Yes,” replied Doris, as before. “Well, I’m hanged 1” murmured Wedge, under his breath, and then he added aloud: “You saw tho creature, eh? And what happened?” He was again the alert genius of Scotland Yard, ready with mental loom and shuttle to weave the fabric of inference and deduction from all things curious that ho might hear. Doris unfolded the whole story of her interview with Sloop, withholding nothing. not even the crook-back’s strange admiration of herself? and his final kissing of her hand. “So he told you that, did he? ' Wedgo remarked, in a tono curiously reflective, when she had finished. “Slewth admired Mr do Brocas, and his action, so mnch that ho took tho matter up as a bit of friendliness, although all that was known of Mr de Brocas was Iks letter, and his offer of five thousand pounds. Mr Slowtli had read all about the legend of Dady Mary, guessed that Mr do Brocas was bidding for you, and thought ho would liko to help for tho sport of tho tiling. All that strikes mo as being *ery mysterious—doesn’t it you; my dear young lady ?" "It’s strange,” Doris agreed.
“H’m! yea, very strange/' Wedge reflected, queerly. “And Sloop asked yon whether you didn't like do Brocas, did he? Undo love, and kissed you, did ho ? It's not a pleasant word, my dear young lady, but have you ever heard of the ‘devil's advocate’?" Boris smiled once more. "I fancy X have heard of snoh a thing," she replied. “So have I, and without living in Spam, either," Wedge mused, as curiously as ever- “It almost looks as if Mt Sloop was very eager to be Mr do Biooas’s advocate, and to make love on Ida behalf. prom what I’ve seen of him, Jasper Sloop has about as much iovo in him as a crab." Again Boris smiled a faint smile, liko all those that had gone before; though «hs was blushing hotly. Wedge was rather pleased, than otherwise, to banish the paleness for a moment from her face. “lie is a most extraordinary being,” she remarked. “He seemed to know a great deal about every thing, apparently by hearing Mr Slewth speaking to Mr f.aidlaw." “You are put to right, Lady Boris/' \Vedgo agreed. “Ho is an extraordinary creature —very extraordinary.” “He said Mr Slewth was at Penrith, urn Mr I.aidlaw in Paris," Doris went on. “They would have written, ho was sure, if they had knowm where Mr Stafford was.” “Oh! He. told you that, did he?” said Wedge, sharply, pouncing at once. “Well. I saw him before you, and I told him that on the previous day Slewth was not there! That's one against you, Mr Sloop!” “Bid you know that?” exclaimed oris What an extraordinary man you “There arc such things as the telegraph. and the local police," Wedge explained, enjoying some modesty. “It was nothiug remarkable, you see—not nearly so remarkable as soma of Mr
Sloop’s sayings and doings. So ho told you there were no hotels for Mr Stafford in Cloister street, and asked you whether you would like to lock over the house, did ho?” ho concluded significantly. ... “Yes," replied Dons, her interest growing keener with the question to which sho had now come. "What do you think of it ail, Mr Wedge? For that was what I wanted to know. That was whv I wanted to see you.” “I will tell you a little later. Lady Doris," Wedgo replied, his ton© a strange mixture of reticence, portent, and gravilv. , "’Well, I will tell yon what I think, announced Doris, in a tone of conviction. "I can’t tell you why. but I believe Mr Stafford is somewhere in the house. And I think that in some way, or another, Mr do Brocas has been there.” “What'" exclaimed Wedgo once more, even his dryness being startled by the results of her intuition. “I have’ had theories of my owp. but not quite that. Do you mean that he has been there to see Mr Stafford ?” "Oh I don’t say that—l don’t know. But before —when tho Luck was just lost,” Doris explained, her manner thoughtful, and her gajro steady, like that of one seeing visions. For a moment they were silent, both being occupied with their own thoughts. "Mr Aubrey de Brocas!’’ Wedgo heard the name spoken, and turned sharply to the main entrance to the salon from tho grand staircase. Bo saw that do Brocas, commanding interest and attention, as usual, was engaged in arrival courtesies with tho earl and countess. “Ho has not looked this way yet, Dady Doris,” he urged quickly. "Don’t let him see you with me." “But you don’t suspect anything of Mr do Brocas, Mr Wedge, do you?” Doris inquired, becoming strangely affected by the sudden change in the current of the evening. “t moan, you don’t think ho is going to .do anything?” . “Don't let him see- you 'with mo! Wedge said again, almost curtly. (To bo continued^
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8612, 24 December 1913, Page 15
Word Count
1,541THE LUCK OF THE DARRELLS New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8612, 24 December 1913, Page 15
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