Drummond

“ He watched Drummond, running like a stag, cross the lawn and disappear in the trees. For a second he hesitated; then, with a shrug of square shoulders, he rapidly left the house by the way they had entered. And a few minutes later, Drummond’s car was skimming back towards London, with a grim-faced man at the wheel, who had apparently felt the seriousness of the occasion so acutely, as to deposit his third piece of spearmint on the underneath side of the steering-wheel for greater safety. ”

“ For a moment his outline showed up against the faint grey light which was coming through a window half-way down the stairs; then he was gone again, swallowed up in the gloom of the hall. To the left lay the room in which he had spent the evening, and Drummond turned to the right. As he had gone up to bed he had noticed a door screened by a heavy curtain which he thought might be the room Phyllis Benton had spoken of—the room where Henry Lakington kept his ill-gotten treasures. ”

“ He had none of those finer shades of feeling which had rendered Isla immediately conscious of any rift in the domestic lute.
Drummond stretched himself in the lounge-chair before the blazing peat with a sigh of content. He was in the mood to be at peace with the whole world and to give every man more than his due. It occurred to him as he looked at Malcolm, on whose face the full light from the window fell where he sat, that he had improved in looks of late. ”

“ Drummond lay back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, with his head almost touching the heavy curtains behind him. Life was undoubtedly good. Except for the murder of Professor Goodman it would have been very good—very good indeed. And at that moment the telephone on the desk in front of him began to ring.
With a jerk Drummond sat up and looked at it—his mind recalled to the circumstances of the moment. Should he let it go on ringing till the operator gave up in despair, or should he take the call? One thing was obvious on the face of it: The call could not be for him. ”

“ Drummond, hunched low over the wheel, in his endeavour to conceal his identity from the man behind, knew nothing of that at the time. Every nerve was centred on eluding the pursuit he thought was a certainty; for the thought of Lakington, when everything was prepared for his reception, being snatched from his clutches even by the majesty of the law was more than he could bear. ”

“ A tall, clean-shaven man stopped beside the table, throwing a keen glance at Drummond.
"The world is full of such surprises, isn't it?" answered the girl lightly. " I don't suppose you know Captain Drummond, do you? Mr. Lakington—art connoisseur and—er—collector."
The two men bowed slightly, and Mr. Lakington smiled. "I do not remember ever having heard my harmless pastimes more concisely described," he remarked suavely. "Are you interested in such matters?"
"Not very, I'm afraid," answered Drummond. "Just recently I have been rather too busy to pay much attention to art." ”

“ And the two bound watchers looked at Hugh’s eyes as he stared at the moaning Boche, and saw that they were hard and merciless.
There was a sharp, whistling hiss, and the splinter flew from the tube into the German’s face. It hung from his cheek, and even the ceaseless movement of his head failed to dislodge it.
“I have broken your arm, Boche,” said Drummond at length, “and now I have killed you. I’m sorry about it: I wasn’t particularly anxious to end your life. But it had to be done.” ”

“ Valiance Nestor yawned slightly and closed his eyes, only to open them again as Hugh turned the pages of the ledger on the table.
"What's that?" he demanded.
"This is the book," replied Drummond carelessly, "where Mr. Peterson records his opinions of the immense value of all his fellow-workers. Most interesting reading."
"Am I in it?" Valiance Nestor rose with alacrity.
"Why, of course," answered Drummond. "Are you not one of the leaders? Here you are." He pointed with his finger, and then drew back in dismay. "Dear, dear! there must be some mistake." ”

“ Mr. Drummond was nice and gentlemanly, but he was far too young and handsome for an unmarried clergyman; at least, that was her old-fashioned opinion; and when one has three very good-looking daughters, and dreads the idea of losing one, one may be pardoned for distrusting even a basket of roses.
If Mr. Drummond perceived her slight coldness, he seemed quite determined to overcome it. He took small notice of Nan, who busied herself at once arranging the flowers under his eyes; even Phillis, who looked good and demure this evening, failed to obtain a word. ”

“ With a grim smile Drummond watched the motionless figure.
“I’m afraid,” he said half aloud, “that you’re rather like your medical attendant. Your only contribution to the sphere of pure knowledge is something I know already.”
He went out and quietly closed the door. And as he re-entered his sitting-room he found his servant standing motionless behind one of the curtains watching the street below.
“There’s a man, sir,” he remarked without turning round, “watching the house.”
For a moment Hugh stood still, frowning. Then he gave a short laugh. “The devil there is!” ”

“ Drummond nodded gravely, and did not speak. For into his mind had flashed suddenly the remembrance of that sinister, motionless figure seated by the chauffeur. The wildest guess-work certainly—no vestige of proof—and yet, having once come, the thought stuck. And as he turned it over in his mind, almost prepared to laugh at himself for his credulity—millionaires are not removed against their will, in broad daylight, from one of the biggest hotels in London, to sit in immovable silence in an open car—the door opened and an elderly man came in.
Hugh rose, and the girl introduced the two men. ”

“ With a scream of fear and rage it wrapped its legs round Drummond, squeezing and writhing. And then suddenly there was a tearing snap, and the great limbs relaxed and grew limp.
For a moment the man stood watching the still quivering brute lying at his feet; then, with a gasp of utter exhaustion, he dropped on the ground himself. He was done—utterly cooked; even Peterson’s voice close behind scarcely roused him.
“Quite one of the most amusing entertainments I’ve seen for a long time.” The calm, expressionless voice made him look up wearily, and he saw that he was surrounded by men. ”

“ Drummond shrugged his shoulders resignedly. “There is something about you, Mr. Peterson,” he murmured, “which I like. You strike me as being the type of man to whom a young girl would turn and pour out her maidenly secrets. So masterful, so compelling, so unruffled. I feel sure—when you have finally disabused your mind of this absurd hallucination—that we shall become real friends.”
Peterson still sat motionless save for a ceaseless tapping with his hand on his knee.
“Tell me,” continued Hugh, “why did you allow this scoundrel to treat you in such an offhand manner? ”

“ The words died away in his mouth, and he gazed at Peterson like a bird looks at a snake. There was something so ruthlessly malignant in the stare of the grey-blue eyes, that the ex-soldier who had viewed going over the top with comparative equanimity, as being part of his job, quailed and looked apprehensively at Drummond.
"Do what the kind gentleman tells you, Mullings," said Hugh, "and go to bed." He smiled at the man reassuringly. "And if you're very, very good, perhaps, as a great treat, he'll come and kiss you good night." ”

“ But Drummond, though he went into the hall outside, did not immediately leave the hotel. Instead, he button-holed an exquisite being arrayed in gorgeous apparel, and led him to a point of vantage.
"You see that girl," he remarked, "having tea with a man at the third table from the big palm? Now, can you tell me who the man is? I seem to know his face, but I can't put a name to it."
"That, sir," murmured the exquisite being, with the faintest perceptible scorn of such ignorance, "is the Marquis of Laidley. His lordship is frequently here."
"Laidley!" cried Hugh, in sudden excitement. ”

“ The only question in the young lieutenant's mind as the sun rose, a burning, dazzling disk over the distant mountains to the east, was, which will be first to reach us, friends or foes?
Wearied and shattered though he was and replete as the night had been with anxiety and vigil, Drummond climbed the goat-track that led to the sentry's perch feeling full of hope and pluck and fight. He and his men had divided the night into watches, one being awake and astir, not even permitting himself to sit a moment, while the others slept. ”

“ Hugh took the cablegram and glanced at it. It was short and to the point:
"Captain Hugh Drummond, of Half Moon Street, London, is your man."
He glanced up at the American, who drained his cocktail with the air of a man who is satisfied with life.
"Captain Hugh Drummond, of Half Moon Street, London, is my man," he chuckled. "Well, Captain what about it now. Will you tell me why you've come to Paris? ”

“ And after a while the detective put down the cabinet, and coming over, sat at Drummond's side.
Every page contained an entry—sometimes half a dozen—of the same type, and as the immensity of the project dawned on the two men their faces grew serious.
"I told you he was a big man, Captain," remarked the American, leaning back in his chair and looking at the open book through half-closed eyes.
"One can only hope to Heaven that we're in time," returned Hugh. "Damn it, man," he exploded, "surely the police must know of this!"
The American closed his eyes still more. ”

“ Hugh Drummond stretched his legs luxuriously. “The fact that it was necessary to crash your blinking bus in a stray field in order to avoid their footling passport regulations is absolutely immaterial. The only damage is a dent in Ted’s dicky, but all the best waiters have that. They smear it with soup to show their energy.... My God! Here’s another of them.”
A Frenchman was advancing towards them down the stately vestibule of the Ritz waving protesting hands. He addressed himself in a voluble crescendo to Drummond, who rose and bowed deeply. ”

“ Drummond had suddenly appeared, put up at a fashionable hotel, and, with no other credentials than his handsome person, good manners, and bold assertions that he was related to certain great people in England, had been accepted in society with that beautiful faith and charity that believeth all things an Englishman of supposed position may choose to say of himself, in spite of much disastrous experience of foreign adventurers both painful and ludicrous. ”

“ And if Drummond had rubbed his eyes at some of the names on the organising staffs, the first-class general lecturers deprived him of speech.
"Why," he spluttered after a moment, "a lot of these people's names are absolute household words in the country. They may be swine—they probably are. Thank God! I've very rarely met any; but they ain't criminals."
"No more is Peterson," grinned the American; "at least not on that book. See here, Captain, it's pretty clear what's happening. In any country to-day you've got all sorts and conditions of people with more wind than brain. ”

“ She paused, at a loss for a word.
“Who bellows like a bull, and charges head down,” interrupted Hugh with a grin. She laughed with him, and just for a moment their eyes met, and she read in his something quite foreign to the point at issue. In fact, it is to be feared that the question of Lakington and his companions was not engrossing Drummond’s mind, as it doubtless should have been, to the exclusion of all else. ”

“ It was easy to divine that, with such elements in the gang, there had been no long separation between the horsemen and the treasure they were guarding, and, eager as he was to overtake the renegades, Drummond promptly decided to follow the hoof-tracks, rightly conjecturing, too, that they would bring him to water in the rocky tanks below. Dismounting and leading his big sorrel, he sprang lightly from ledge to ledge down what seemed a mere goat-trail, each man in succession dismounting at the same point, and, with more or less elasticity, coming on in the footsteps of his leader. ”

“ For a while there was silence in the room, broken at length by a short laugh from Peterson.
“For a young man truly your perspicacity is great,” he remarked. “Irma, is the blue room ready? If so, tell Luigi to show Captain Drummond to it.”
“I will show him myself,” she answered, rising. “And then I shall go to bed. Mon Dieu! my Hugh, but I find your country très ennuyeux.” ”

“ Then, since I love those virtuous parts in thee,
Shouldst thou not love this virtuous mind in me?
WILLIAM DRUMMOND. A man of much finer gifts than Stirling, was the famous Drummond. He was born, December 13, 1585, at Hawthornden, his father's estate, in Mid- Lothian. It is one of the most beautiful spots, along the sides of one of the fairest streams in all Scotland, and well fitted to be the home of genius. He studied civil law for four years in France, but, in 1611, the estate of Hawthornden became his own, and here he fixed his residence, and applied himself to literature. ”

“ Drummond nodded pleasantly. “The occupant of a car is hardly likely to change in a mile, is he?” he remarked. “I’m afraid I forgot to wave as you went past, but I got your smile all right.” He leant on his steering-wheel and lit a second cigarette. “Are you likely to be long?” he asked; “because if so, I’ll stop my engine.”
The other man was now approaching casually, and Drummond regarded him curiously. “A friend of our little Phyllis, Peterson,” said Lakington, as he came up. ”

“ Drummond, thoughtfully, lit a cigarette.
"Working towards a revolution in this country," he remarked quietly.
"Sure thing," answered the American. "And when he brings it off, I guess you won't catch Peterson for dust. He'll pocket the boodle, and the boobs will stew in their own juice. I guessed it in Paris; that book makes it a certainty. But it ain't criminal. In a Court of Law he could swear it was an organisation for selling bird-seed." ”