The Gay Adventurers

Taranaki Daily News, 31 October 1935, Page 14

The Gay Adventurers

By

Capt. E. C. Cox

(Author of “Achievements of John Carruthers,” etc., etc.)

CHAPTER 13 (continued). “That's my opinion, old dear. Of course the weather’s uncertain and capricious, but I’ve sampled certainty in India. You know for certain there that it’ll be hot for three months and then damned hot for four months.” And they both laughed. “Look here, boy,” exclaimed Sally as the train halted at the long curving platform at York, “there’s an old friend over there. We seem to be in the way of running up against old acquaintances. There’s Inspector- Dickenson!”

“By Jove! so there is. He doesn’t look too well pleased with life. Poorold thing, we let him down rather badly, didn’t we? I must try to work the oracle and get him back to Scotland Yard.” “Do, old boy,” said Sally. “I hope you’ll manage it.” Aldington House in Barkstone Square dated from the days when great nobles built for themselves princely mansions. Times had changed since then. Few of the old historic houses survive in their ancient grandeur. One of the finest is now a museum; another has been pulled down to make room for barbarous flats; another has been occupied by a successful tradesman. But Aldington house was as it might have appeared a century and a half ago. Lord and Lady Aldington were amongst the diminishing number of Fortune’s favourites. They were able to keep up the house in the style that it deserved. An imposing doorway opened into a vast lofty entrance-hall from which rose a beautifully designed staircase with a richly ornamented balustrade. On the ground floor' • there were five spacious reception rooms. On the walls hung priceless pictures by Van Dyck, Gainsborough and Reynolds; and exquisite statuary from the glory that was Greece, with a few busts of patricians from the grandeur that was Rome, gave joy to the heart of a connoisseur. To Bingo and Sally were assigned luxurious rooms on the first floor, facing the back of the mansion, that being the sunny side. Next to them, on one side, was Lady Aldington’s boudoir; the room on the other was unoccupied. A light balcony ran the whole length of the house. The banqueting hall, where in years long gone by kings had graced the board, was a regal and majestic chamber. The elegantly moulded ceiling was supported by pillars of the purest marble. A gallery for musicians stood out from the wall. The dinner was one of the most famous functions of the London season. Seats were placed for 40 guests. There were cabinet ministers, one wearing the blue riband of the garter; great soldiers, their breasts covered with medals; two foreign princes; the President of a South American republic; a duke and his Duchess, the latter wearing a magnificent diamond tiara; several ambassadors, and other distinguished guests. , Most of them wore the decorations of their various nationalities. The music from the gallery was so skilfully modulated that it seemed rather to suggest than actually constitute a concord of sweet sounds, and was no bar on conversation. Lord and Lady Aldington were an ideal host and hostess. She wore round her neck the far-famed Aldington pearls, without any other jewellery.

On the conclusion of the banquet Lord and Lady Aldington stood on a low dias in the great entrance hall to receive the guests for the reception. He looked an ordinary English gentleman with nothing particular to distinguish him, but she might have been a queen. She possessed the rare gift common to royalty of never forgetting a face or personality, and she had a few appropriate words for each individual guest. There were a hundred and fifty in all present. Brilliant uniforms, military, naval and diplomatic, with the more delicate hues of the women’s dresses and their dazzling jewellery, made ■ a kaleidoscope blaze of colour. Fletcher was übiquitous, courteous and debonair, introducing guests to one another, finding out and bringing together old friends and acquaintances, and inviting all in turn to a room where refreshments were provided, and cigarettes might be smoked. “By Jove, that chap knows his job, Sally,” said Bingo as he watched the indefatigable Fletcher flitting around like a butterfly from flower to flower. “It wouldn’t suit me. A bit too much like a head flunkey. But I admit he’s all there.”

Sally laughed. “I can’t see you trotting round like that. But this is some show. I’m enjoying this. Really Kandiara couldn’t provide anything more gorgeous. I don’t know that I could live up to it as a permanency, but it’s something to have experienced once in a way. But d’you see that tall man in 'purple and fine linen who might be a Roman emperor, standing over there by Fletcher? Oh, Bingo, this is a shock, and he evidently wants Fletcher to bring him to us.” “Great Scott, Sally, it’s Rudolf Kareno, and he’s making for us. He must spot us. Wonder what his little game is. We’ll weather it out, whatever it is. We may have something spicy.” “Lord Wavenden,” said Fletcher as he manoeuvered Rudolf through the crowd, and with a smile brought him up- to them, “His Highness, Rudolf Kareno, Chancellor of Berengaria, desires to be introduced to you and the Countess of Wavenden. He thinks that he has met you before, and he would enjoy a talk with you.” “Only too delighted,” said Bingo, and Sally smiled. They all shook hands. “I am enchanted by this wonderful house and this distinguished assembly,” commenced Rudolf, “but, alas! I am a stranger and hardly know who anyone is. I never saw your beautiful country till a few days ago. I live in a little out-of-the-way country called Berengaria. You have probably never heard of it.” Bingo remembered those remarkable eyes that signified one thing one moment, and something totally different the next. They were not unfriendly now. There was more than a touch of humour in them.

“Oh, yes, I have heard of it,” he said. “We all know about the discovery of the rich coal seams and the prosperity they brought. And isn’t Berengaria very picturesque?” “So, so; but we have nothing to compare with your Windsor Castle, and your noble Houses of Parliament. And the people are all primitive and backward. There is no one you can really talk to. How different from here! I find you English so warm-hearted and charming in every way. I admit it is not quite what I expected. D’you know the only time in my life that I was bested by anyone, was by an Englishman.” Rudolf laughed as though he quite enjoyed this recollection.

“Do tell us what he did,” said Sally. “Was it some secret political treaty?” “No, it was a business transaction. An Englishman and his wife came to Berengaria to negotiate the sale of some radium. It was a delicate matter. I thought I should have got the best of the bargain; I had my little scheme. But he was a hundred times cleverer than I was, and he won hands down as you call it. It is quite amusing to look back on. I should bear him no ill will if I met him. The one man who ever got the better of me! 7 His eyes seemed to manifest a rather malicious enjoyment. He might be feeling that he was getting a bit of his own back. “That’s very noble of you,” said Bingo. “And I’ni sure he’d be very glad to meet

you. Blit I hope you won’t find that we are all trying to do you in.” “Far from it, but I should think twice before I try to score off one of your countrymen again. I might not find it so amusing a second time.” “Your Highness,” interrupted Fletcher, “Lady Aldington would like a little talk with you.” Rudolf, Bingo and Sally shook hands warmly as the Chancellor was led away.

“That was thrilling,” said Sally. “How I laughed inwardly. He’s not a bad sort after all.”

“I’ve known ’em worse, old thing. He’s quite a sport.” Gradually the company drifted away. “The captains and the kings depart,” quoted Sally to herself. “No need to tell me not to forget this wonderful show. It’s been something to live for.” Lady Aldington was standing alone at the foot of the great staircase, where she had been saying goodbye to her guests. “I’m quite worn out,” she said as Bingo and Sally came up to her. “And that naughty husband of mine has deserted me. He’s playing bridge with a few of the men, and left me to speed the parting guests on my lonesome. Isn’t it too bad of him?”

“It’s been a splendid show,” said Sally. “I’ve never been so thrilled. And you’ve been perfectly wonderful.” And Bingo echoed her sentiments.

“It’s ever so nice of you to say so. I’m glad it appealed to you. Well, goodnight, you dear things. You’ll be glad to lay your heads on the pillow. I’ll just have a look in at the bridge-room to see that they are not up to any mischief. Good-night, good-night.” Bingo and Sally went up the staircase to their rooms. Bingo turned on the electric light switch. The, light came on for a moment, gave a feeble flicker, and went out. “Hullo,” he exclaimed, here’s a go. Wait half a minute. I’ll draw the curtains. There’s a bit of a moon on, and we might be able to manage. I shouldn’t like to disturb the household at this time of night.” He struck a match, found his way to the window and drew back the heavy curtains. The French windows, leading on to the balcony, were open. Bingo stood there for a while enjoying the fresh night air. Suddenly he pricked up his ears. He heard a stealthy step on the balcony coming from the side on which was Lady Aldington’s boudoir. He stood back a little, his nerves all alert, to await developments. The footsteps drew nearer, came to a halt in front of his room, and a dark figure, wearing a capacious overcoat, stood out in the dim moonlight, and was about to enter the room.

“Hi, you! What’s all this about?” asked Bingo. “Good God!” muttered the shadowy form, and heedless of caution darted away in the opposite direction from which it had come, and disappeared. “What is it, Bingo?” asked Sally, who had crept up to him. “Is it a catburglar?” “I don’t know, old dear. I’ve an awful suspicion in my mind. Don’t ask me what it is. I may be wrong.” “Oughtn’t we to give the alarm?” “I’m trying to think. There may be nothing in it. Some joke or something. I don’t want to scare everyone for what may be nothing, or have to kick myself afterwards. I'll leave our door on the jar and wait and see. If nothing happens then we shall have done the right thing. But I’ve got a hunch if it turns out. to be true, a little time more or less won’t matter. But there’s no going to bed just at present.” He slightly opened the door and stood by it. He listened, but no sound was to be heard. Then he was aware that Lady Aldington, with her maid, was ascending the stairs. He all but closed the door, leaving it just ajar so that he might hear. He heard the door of Lady Aldington’s boudoir open and close, and he could see that the electric light was turned on. It lit all right in there, and its light showed beneath the portal. And then a loud cry, “All my jewels gone, and the case left empty! Go and call Lord Aldington.” Bingo had no more need to wait. “You stay here, Sally darling. I can’t explain.” He put his automatic in his pocket, and followed the maid down the stairs. She went to the room where they were playing bridge. Bingo saw the tired butler standing alone in the hall. “Do you know where Major Fletcher is? I must see him at once.”

“He’s just gone home, my Lord. He gave me a good-night, Jenkins, and asked me to say good-bye for him to my Lord and Lady.” “Was he wearing a loose overcoat?” The butler looked somewhat surprised at the question. “He was, my Lord,” he replied. “Where does he live?” “No. 27, Curzon Street, my Lord.” “I must go there. Let. me out, and don’t lock the door. I shall be back soon.” There were two cars outside the front door. Their owners were in the bridge room. Bingo leapt into the first. “Take me to No. 27, Curzon Street. This is Scotland Yard business. Drive like hell.” Too surprised to make any objection, the chauffeur obeyed Bingo’s order. Bingo rained a storm of knocks on the door of No. 27. It was opened by a sleepy servant, a man of unusual size for such employment. Bingo pushed past him, and slammed the door. “Where is Major Fletcher?” he asked. “The Major has retired, and cannot see anyone,” was the sulky reply. “Take me to his room at once, or I shall smash down every door in the house till I find him. D’you see this?” and Bingo drew an automatic from his pocket. The man unwillingly conducted Bingo up the stairs, and pointed to a door. Bingo tried the handle, but the door was locked. “Open the door,” he shouted. “Who are you?” came an angry voice from within. “I’m Lord Wavenden. Open the door at once.” “Go to hell!” was the reply. Bingo turned to the servant. “Smash that door open. Throw all your weight against it, or I shall shoot you dead.” The pistol pointed at him the terrified man had no choice. He hurled himself at the door, and the woodwork splintered into pieces. Bingo thrust his hand through, found the lock, and opened the door. Fletcher had risen from a chair beside a table on which was an irregular heap of something over which a cloth had been carelessly thrown. Bingo snatched at it, and a pile of scintillating jewels was revealed. “Sit down, you white-livered cur,” commanded Bingo, his weapon levelled at Fletcher. “You see the game’s up!” The two men were alone. The servant had thought it wise to disappear. Fletcher sat down. “There are two alternatives before you,” continued Bingo. “You can either sign an undertaking that you will leave the country this very day and never return to it, or you can sit where you are while I telephone the police. Well, which alternative do you prefer?” “I was going to clear out anyhow. I am broke, ruined. This was my last throw. Curses on everything. I’ll sign your paper.” “I thought you would, you cur. Was there a suitcase or something?” Fletcher pointed to an attache case on a chair. Bingo, without lowering his

automatic, picked up the attache case. It was closed. He could not open. it with one hand. “Open it,” he said, handing it to Fletcher. Fletcher did so. Bingo transferred all the jewellery into the case, and closed it with a snap. “Now the paper,” he said. Fletcher took pen and ink, wrote a couple of lines, and signed it. Bingo real it. “I hereby engage to leave this country to-day, and never to return. Thomas Fletcher.” “That’ll do,” said Bingo as he placed the document in his pocket. “Have you any money?” “Not a stiver.”