The Mysterious Mr. Miller

by William Le Queux

state of the finances of its owner.

  I halted for a moment and peered through the gate. From what I saw I atonce concluded that either the house had been let furnished for thesummer or that Mr Gordon-Wright, alias Lieutenant Shacklock, was notoverburdened with surplus wealth.

  As I looked, a middle-aged and most respectable, but round-shoulderedold man-servant crossed the hall, carrying a tray. He was evidentlylaying the dinner table.

  A moment later a shadow within the drawing-room betrayed the presence ofsome one there, while to my nostrils came the fragrant smell of a verygood cigar.

  A suit-case had been deposited in the hall, and the man-servant, on hisreturn, caught it up and disappeared with it up the red-carpeted stairs.

  All this I was watching with idle curiosity, having nothing better todo, when of a sudden the distant note of a motor-horn reached my ear,causing me to start away from where I stood and turn back a few steps inthe direction of the village.

  My heart leaped within me. Far off I could see the reflection of thehead-lights as the car came tearing through the village and up the roadat headlong pace.

  Was it the blue car? Would it pass on, and leave me behind, after all?

  In a few moments the white lights swept into full view, and I stepped tothe side of the road to allow them to pass, when, to my joy, the driverbegan to blow his horn violently, as though to announce his approach.

  Yes! They were halting at the "Glen," after all!

  With loud trumpeting that echoed among the trees the car flashed pastme, and came to a sudden stop before the iron gates, but ere it did sothe gates were flung open wide by the servant, and a man came out of thehouse shouting them a warm and cheery welcome.

  The bright rays from the head lamps shone full upon him, dazzling himand preventing my presence being revealed.

  I saw his face, and my eyes became riveted upon it.

  And while I stood there, breathless and stupefied, the party descended,laughing boisterously and exchanging greetings.

  I looked again. Was it only some strange chimera of my vision? Couldit be the amazing truth? What further bitterness had life in store forme?

  My Ella was standing enfolded in the arms of the man who had greetedthem, and he was at that moment kissing her fondly upon the lips beforethem all.

  And the man? His countenance was, alas! only too familiar to me.

  He was the fellow I had met only that very morning under Miller's roof--the man whom I had known in Nervi as Lieutenant Shacklock, R.N.!

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

  THE PERIL OF ELLA MURRAY.

  In an instant the bewildering mystery of it all became apparent.

  The fellow Shacklock, the dark-faced man whom I could at once denounceto the police as a rogue and a thief, held her enthralled!

  "Welcome, dearest!" he said, as his lips touched hers. "I hope you arenot too tired."

  But I saw that she was pale, and that she shrank from his touch. Ah!yes! she loathed him.

  Standing there in the shadow of the overhanging trees, I watched themall disappear into the house.

  The servant in black, after carrying up their luggage, shut the gate,therefore I crept forward and peered into the drawing-room. It was,however, empty, for they had all passed upstairs to remove the stains oftravel before sitting down to dinner.

  A thousand weird thoughts surged through my brain. That manGordon-Wright was my enemy, and I intended that he should not win mylove.

  The whole position of affairs was utterly incomprehensible. This man,whom I could prove to be a clever international thief, was the mostintimate friend of James Harding Miller, gentleman, of Studland. Whilehe had been visiting there, Ella had escaped from her father and gone toStudland, in all probability to see him, or to consult him upon someimportant matter. She had made no sign to the Millers that she waspreviously acquainted with their guest. The conclusion, therefore, wasthat both Lucie and her father were in utter ignorance of the curioustruth. Ella had left suddenly and travelled by motor-car to UpperWooton, while he must have left immediately after my departure fromStudland, and travelled by train by way of Yeovil.

  To Mr Murray and the rest of the party he appeared as though he had notbeen away from home. Only Ella knew the truth, and she was silent.That there was some extraordinary manoeuvre in progress I was convinced.The Murrays of Wichenford were one of the county families ofWorcestershire, and Ella's father had always been an upright, if ratherproud man. He was, I knew, the very last person to associate with a manof Shacklock's stamp had he but known his real character.

  On the contrary, however, he had grasped the man's hand warmly when hedescended, saying:--

  "Why, my dear fellow, it's quite two months since we met! How are you?"

  And the pseudo-lieutenant was equally enthusiastic in his welcome inreturn. He was the host; "the London gentleman" known locally as MrGordon-Wright.

  This was by no means extraordinary. In our country villages and theirvicinity hundreds of people are, at this moment, occupying big houses,and under assumed names passing themselves off for what they are not.Summer visitors to the rural districts are often a queer lot, and many agentleman known as Mr Brown, the smug attendant at the village church,is in reality Mr Green whose means of livelihood would not bear lookinginto. From time to time a man is unmasked, and a paragraph appears inthe papers, but such persons are usually far too wary when it is amatter of effacing their identity under the very nose of the police, andenjoy the confidence and esteem of both the villagers and "the county."

  So it evidently was with "Mr Gordon-Wright."

  Consumed by hatred, and longing to go forward and unmask him as theingenious swindler who stole Blenkap's money, I stood at the gate, eagerto obtain another glimpse of the woman who he intended should be hisvictim.

  What was the nature of his all-powerful influence over her, I wondered?She loved me still. Had she not admitted that? And yet she dare notbreak from this man whose life was one long living lie!

  "Fortunately I've discovered you," I said, between my teeth, speaking tomyself. "You shall never wreck her happiness, that I'm determined! Aword from me to Scotland Yard, and you will be arrested, my finegentleman." And I laughed, recollecting how entirely his future was inmy hands.

  He had already dressed for dinner before the arrival of the party, and Ioverheard him shouting to Murray not to trouble to change, it being solate. Then he came along the hall, and stood at the door, gazingstraight in my direction, his hands in the pockets of his dinner-jacket,awaiting his guests.

  He could not see me, I knew, for the roadway was rendered very dark atthat point by the trees that almost met overhead. Therefore I watchedhis thin clean-shaven face, and saw upon its evil features an expressionof intense anxiety which was certainly not there when we had met earlierthat day in Dorsetshire.

  Ella was the first to descend. She had exchanged her dark dress for agown of pale blue Liberty silk, high at the throat, and, though simplymade, it suited her admirably. The fellow turned at the sound of herfootstep, and hurrying towards her, took her hand, and led her outsideupon the gravelled drive.

  "The others, of course, have no idea that I've been to Studland!" Iheard him whisper to her anxiously as they stood there together in theshadow, away from the stream of light that shone from the open door.

  "I told them nothing," was her calm answer, in a voice that seemed inertand mechanical.

  "I only arrived here an hour ago. I feared that you might be herebefore me. You, of course, delayed them by excuses, as I suggested."

  "Yes. We had tea on the way, and we came the longer way round, byPlymouth, as you told me."

  "It was lucky for you that you left the Millers as early as you did," hesaid.

  "Why?"

  "Because they had a visitor. He came an hour or so after you'd gone. Ifound him talking to Lucie, and she introduced me. His name was Leaf."

  I saw that she started at mention of my name. But with admirabl
eself-control she asked:--

  "Well, and what did he want?"

  "Wanted to see you. And what's more, Lucie told me after he'd gone thathe had once been engaged to you. Is that true?"

  "I've known him a good many years," was my loved one's evasive answer,as though she feared to arouse his anger or jealousy by anacknowledgment of the truth.

  "I ask you, Ella, a simple question--is what Lucie Miller has said true?Were you ever engaged to that man?" he asked very seriously.

  "There was not an actual engagement," was her answer, and I saw that shefeared to tell him the truth.

  What right had the fellow to question her? I had difficulty inrestraining myself from rushing forward and boldly exposing him as thethief and adventurer he was.

  "Lucie, in answer to my question, told me that you had lost sight ofeach other for several years, and that you believed him dead."

  "That is