William Le Queux

“ Time after time had I tried to induce her to reveal to me the reason why Shaw went in such terror of arrest. But she would not betray his secret. For that I admired her—for was she not devoted to him? Did she not owe everything to his kindness and his generosity? Like many another man, I suppose he had been fooled or tricked by a woman, and had, in consequence, to lead a celibate life. In order to bring brightness and youth into his otherwise dull home, he had adopted little Asta as his daughter. ”

“ More than once when smoking my lonely cigar before going to bed, I had taken out the mysterious cylinder from the big safe built in the wall of the library and held it in my hand pondering. What could be the Thing it contained—the thing which would amaze the world!
The weird story told to me by Shaw concerning it haunted me; yet what evil could its possession bring upon me? I had heard, of course, of authenticated stories of certain Egyptian mummies which have brought disaster and death to those who disturbed their long sleep; yet in my case I had become the unwilling agent of another. ”

“ Whatever Shaw might be, he was with me perfectly candid and straightforward, and gradually I became on most friendly terms with both him and Asta. Often they motored over to Upton End and lunched or dined with me, while I, on my part, became a frequent visitor in those long summer days. But I confess my friendship had for its object the elucidation of the strange mystery in which I found myself enveloped.
Asta was, alas! still inconsolable. Poor child! Time, instead of healing the wound caused by Guy’s sudden end, only served to aggravate it. She seemed to grow paler and more sad each day. ”

“ Often have I congratulated myself upon my narrow escape from a sudden end on that night in the old French inn, for surely the cunning ingenuity and truly devilish resourcefulness of Asta’s foster-father from the moment when he so successfully cast the blame of fraud upon his friend Arnold Edgecumbe and caused him to flee to Egypt until that night when he so nearly succeeded in taking the young girl’s life, showed him to be a veritable master-criminal.
But the days of darkness, insecurity and despair are happily over. ”

“ I confess that the mystery surrounding this man who had so openly admitted to me that he was an adventurer as well as a county magistrate greatly attracted me. I found myself fascinated by the whole unusual circumstances. One curious fact I had noted was that while Asta was aware of Arnold’s death she had never told the man whom she knew as father. What motive had she in concealing the truth? Again, it seemed very evident that the young man Nicholson little dreamed that Mr Harvey Shaw was anything else than the wealthy idler which he pretended to be. And surely Asta had not undeceived him. ”

“ I took from the dressing-table the bunch of keys attached to his steel watch-chain, and was crossing the room towards the bag when he exclaimed—
“Listen, Mr Kemball! I’m a dying man. Will you make a solemn promise to me? Will you grant me one last earnest request? In half an hour—perhaps before—I shall be lying here dead. But I’m still alive—a man who has seen much, who knows strange things—a man who has lived through much, and who has stood by and seen men die around him like flies. ”

“ The motive of the cruel and ingenious assassination of your friend Nicholson is perfectly plain. Harford knew that there was a will in existence, for now I recollect Mr Edgecumbe, after getting me to make it, told me that he had revealed its provisions to his friend. They are that his daughter should inherit the whole of his very substantial fortune, but in the event of her death while unmarried it was to go to Harford himself, in recognition of his friendship and of his kindness to Miss Asta. Now if Nicholson had married her, the money would have passed beyond his control. ”

“ Shaw, who was in the best of spirits, had laughed heartily over Asta’s adventure with the rat, and as we arrived at our destination he turned to me, expressing a hope that we all three would enjoy “a real good time.”
I had been in Aix several years before, and knew the life—the bains, the casino, the Villa des Fleurs, the fêtes and the boating on the Lac du Bourget, that never-ending round of gaiety amid which the wealthy idler may pass the days of warm sunshine. ”

“ I cried, staring at him in dismay.
“Wait and hear the evidence against her.”
“I will not believe it.”
“Ah! because you are enamoured of her—eh, Monsieur Kemball?” exclaimed the great detective, with a shrewd twinkle in his large brown eyes. “A man is always loath to believe that his well-beloved can do wrong. Bien! I urge you to wait and see what the revelations bring forth—to carefully weigh over the hideous story before giving further thought to her.”
“I need no advice. Monsieur,” I protested angrily. “If you make allegations, you should surely tell me their nature.” ”

“ But it is of my own sweet-faced queen that I think the most—she who sits here in silent love beside me at Upton End as I now pen these final lines. We have already been man and wife for eight months, and, after a delightful honeymoon spent beside the Nile, during which we paid a visit, of course, to Cleopatra’s temple, where Professor Stewart was superintending operations, have returned home and settled down in peace and happiness—a rural bliss, perfect and entire, that will last always.
The hated name of Harvey Shaw is never mentioned between us. And little wonder, indeed. ”

“ Hence, when I found myself possessor of the place, I too reposed the same confidence in the faithful pair as my father had done. But now that he was dead and I was alone, Upton End seemed, alas! very grim and silent. True, the old place, with its quaint corners and historic associations, its dark panelling, polished floors, and antique furniture, its high box hedges, level lawns, and wealth of roses, would have delighted the artist or the antiquarian; but modern man that I was, I failed to find very much there to attract me. ”

“ I suppose it must have been about an hour afterwards when, on passing along the carpeted corridor near Shaw’s room, next that of Asta, I saw that the door was shut, but as I passed I heard him utter that peculiar whistle, yet so very low that it was only just audible. Twice I heard it, and halting, found myself involuntarily copying him. He was whistling so softly that it could scarcely be overheard beyond the walls of his own room.
What was the meaning of that sound? Probably it only escaped his lips when deep in thought. Some men invariably whistle softly or hum tunes while dressing. ”

“ The object of his visit was to tell me of Guy’s will. It had been found, he said, that the young man had bequeathed the sum of ten thousand pounds to Asta.
“He was infatuated with her, poor fellow,” Shaw declared, in a tone of slight annoyance. “Of course she will not touch a penny of it. How could she? Ah! when he made that will, only two months ago, he never dreamt that he would meet with such a sudden end.”
“No,” I sighed, my mind full of wonder. At that moment many strange things flitted across my brain. “We all of us foolishly believe that we have many years to live.” ”

“ That decision to kill her lover and afterwards kill her was no sudden impulse, but the result of a carefully thought-out and ingenious plan. Whether the huge tarantula had been put into my room at that French inn with evil intent, or whether it had got loose, and had concealed itself there, I could not determine. Yet in the case of Guy and Asta there must, I decided, have been some very strong incentive—a motive which none had ever dreamed. As regards the incident at Scarborough, he must have placed the tarantula in Asta’s room in secret, and have succeeded in regaining possession of it. ”

“ What duty do you owe to me?—a perfect stranger—an adventurer for aught you know!” cried the old fellow with whom I had formed such a curious friendship. “No, Mr Kemball, you have acted as a real man, as a friend—one of the few friends one meets in this hard, workaday world,” and he clutched wildly at his throat, while his sunken cheeks slowly assumed a hectic flush. “Unlock the bag—get it out—before—before I lose my senses,” he added. ”

“ No; when I carefully weighed over the whole of the facts, I came to the conclusion that the man before me—mysterious though he might be—had every motive that Guy Nicholson should live. I do not think my intelligence was much above that of the ordinary man, yet I felt that if he were an adventurer, as already seemed proved, then what more natural than that he should secure Nicholson as husband for Asta, and afterwards judiciously bleed him. ”

“ I did not hurry, and as I approached the village and passed the inn with the red blinds I kept a wary eye, fearing lest Tramu might be in the vicinity.
That it was he who had been making inquiry of the landlord there was no doubt. In what manner the French police had gained knowledge of the woman Olliffe’s address I knew not, and why he was in England watching her, was equally a mystery. One fact was evident—namely, that the Paris Sûreté had some serious charge against her; and further, that she must be all unconscious of the presence of the renowned police-agent. ”

“ My voice evidently awakened Shaw, for we heard him tap at the door and ask in a deep, drowsy voice—
“What’s the matter in there, Asta?”
“Oh, nothing at all, Dad,” was the girl’s reply. “Only I fancy there must be a rat in my room—and Mr Kemball is looking for it.”
“Didn’t you scream?” he asked wearily.
“Yes,” I said, as she unbolted the door, and her father entered. “Miss Seymour’s scream woke me up.”
“Did you see the rat?” Shaw asked me.
“No,” I laughed, in an endeavour to conceal our fear. “I expect if there is one it has got away down its hole. I’ve searched, but can find nothing.” ”

“ Presently, he rose and turned on the light, saying as he did so—
“Well, Mr Kemball, as you seem to have been so intimately associated with the closing scenes of poor Melvill Arnold’s career, I will explain the whole truth to you—even at the risk of a breach of professional confidence. My client is dead, but the dastardly attempt upon Miss Asta Seymour must be avenged—that man Harvey Shaw shall be brought to justice. Listen, and I will tell you a story stranger than most men have ever listened to—a romance of real life of which, however, every word is the truth.” ”

“ But poor Guy seems to have regarded it as a kind of Bluebeard’s cupboard, doesn’t he?”
“He seems to have entertained a curious suspicion concerning your father,” I admitted. “Of course, he did not know half that I know.”
“Of course not,” she sighed. “He simply believed—as others do—that he is a country gentleman. And he would have been if—”
“If what?”
“If—if it had not been for that horrible woman,” she added, in a low hard voice. “Ah, Mr Kemball, if only you could know the truth—if only I dare tell you. But I can’t—I can’t betray the man who has been so good and kind to me all my life.” ”

“ That calm, sweet countenance, with those big, wonderful eyes, was ever before me, sleeping or waking, and yet I knew not from hour to hour that she might not be arrested and placed in a criminal dock, as accomplice of that arch-adventurer Shaw—that man who led such a strange dual existence of respectability and undesirability. ”

“ His clean-shaven face, with heavy, square jaws, was pimply and rather bloated—a face which somehow filled me with repugnance, for it was the countenance of one who was a fast liver and who indulged a little too freely in alcohol. His grey suit, grey soft felt hat, and grey gloves gave to him a certain air of smartness and distinction; yet those small brown eyes, with a peculiar, indescribable expression searching up and down the platform, were the eyes of a man full of craft and double cunning.
From the first moment I turned my gaze upon him I held him in distinct suspicion ”

“ Presently, when Asta had risen again and left the room, Shaw turned to me and said—
“Poor girl, Guy’s death was a great blow to her, but she is gradually getting over it—don’t you think so? I should never have risked going to the Continent had it not been for her sake—in order to give her a change. But in these last few weeks we’ve had sufficient change, in all conscience. She’s always so cool and level-headed that I feel lost without her, Kemball.” ”

“ I, too, would watch closely as soon as I learnt of their hiding-place, as closely as the dead man had done. If Asta were in actual peril, then I would stand as her protector in place of the upright, honest young fellow who, it seemed, had lost his life in the attempt.
But the days, nay weeks, went on. September ended and October came with rain and chilly wind, and though I returned to Upton End, and frequently made inquiry over the telephone to Lydford, yet, though I wrote to Davis at the Poste Restante at Charing Cross, I could learn no news of them. ”

“ I read and re-read that letter traced by the hand of the man whom I had known as Arnold, but whose real name seemed most probably to have been Edgcumbe. Then I read that strange letter threatening vengeance, and held in my hand the old copy of the newspaper which told the curious story of Lady Lettice Lancaster.
It was all mysterious, but surely most mysterious of all was that bronze cylinder. Why should the dead man have feared to expose its contents to the world?
Civilisation would be staggered by the revelation, it was declared. What terrible secret of ages past could be therein contained? ”

“ The history of that metal tube is a record of ruin, disaster, and death, for misfortune in one form or another always overtakes its possessor. Its story is surely the weirdest and most terrible that could be related. I knew that Arnold was in Egypt, but I never dreamed that he would dare at last to take the cylinder from its hiding-place and convey it here—to England! ”

“ From Salisbury we travelled the whole day by way of Andover, Newbury, and Oxford, the same road that I had traversed in the night on my way to Bath.
It was delightful to have her as companion through those sunny hours on the road, and she looked inexpressibly dainty in her close-fitting little bonnet, fur coat, and gauntlet gloves. An enthusiastic motorist, she often drove her father’s car, which I now understood they had been compelled to abandon in the garage at Aix. ”

“ Whatever where the actions of the late Mr Edgecumbe, we must not lose sight of the main fact that the death of his wife, whom he adored, caused in him certain eccentricities. He was devoted to his little daughter Asta, and in order that she should never know that her father had been accused and compelled to fly from justice, he induced his partner to adopt her—only to discover afterwards that he was a criminal and unscrupulous, and was, moreover, in association with a man and woman who were, undoubtedly, criminals. ”