The Mysterious Mr. Miller

by William Le Queux

a respectably dressed man of forty, robust, heavily built, withdark moustache and shaven chin. As I touched his hand, which layhelpless at his side, my fingers came into contact with something hard,and I found that strapped around his waist he carried a revolver.

  Quickly I took it out, for I had no weapon myself, and at a glance sawthat it was the regulation pattern as supplied to the agents of police.

  The man who had been stabbed to the heart so unerringly was probably adetective who had been left in charge of the villa after the police hadtaken possession of the place. Hearing a summons at the door he hadperhaps gone to open it, when the ready knife had struck him down, andthe desperate trio had passed over his body and entered the villa toprosecute their mysterious object.

  I listened. There was no sound. The intruders, whatever their object,were in the main building; for it seemed that this narrow passage merelygave entrance to the servants' quarters. The place was an enormous,rambling one, built, as I afterwards found, by Prince Torlonia in thedays of the Borgia Pope, once full of splendour and magnificence, butsadly neglected and degenerated in these modern days.

  Again I examined the prostrate man, placing my hand upon his heart butfailing to detect any movement. He was dead without a doubt.

  Noiselessly I crept forward, my ears strained to catch every sound, myhand gripping the dead man's revolver. If I were discovered I couldnow, at least, make a fight for life. The fearless way in which theyhad struck down the detective was sufficient to show me that they wouldhesitate at nothing.

  Those were exciting moments, for at the end of the narrow stone passageI passed through a door, and found myself in a great dark chamber whichseemed to be unfurnished. The faint grey light that struggled inthrough the barred windows was sufficient to allow me to see that itopened into a great square hall, around which was set a number ofancient high-backed chairs of the same epoch as the house itself. Therooms were lined with ancient tapestries falling to decay, and there waseverywhere a damp mouldy smell as though that wing of the place had longbeen closed and uninhabited.

  Passing along another corridor, I opened a door at the farther end andfound myself at once in the modernised portion of the place, in acorridor where, upon the thick dark red carpet, my feet fellnoiselessly, and where a candle which the intruders had probably lit wasset upon a table.

  Again I listened. I fancied I caught the sound of voices, but was notquite certain.

  For some moments I remained there, holding my breath in hesitation. Tosearch for them in that great place was full of danger and difficulty.And yet, having gone so far, I was determined that I would ascertaintheir object in coming there.

  At last, reassuring myself that the voices I had heard were only soundsin my imagination, I went forward again through an open door into a finelong picture-gallery, well carpeted as was the corridor. At the endshowed another faint light, for the men had, I now saw, lit a child'snight-light which they had probably brought with them.

  In that portion of the house there was evidence of wealth and luxuryeverywhere. Nardini had probably spent a good deal of the public moneyupon embellishing that fine old place with its wonderful sculpturedfireplaces and frescoed and gilt ceilings.

  Still scarcely daring to breathe lest my presence be detected, I wentforward again, until of a sudden voices, plain and unmistakable, brokeupon my ear, causing me to halt suddenly and stand motionless as astatue.

  They were in some room in the vicinity. But where? It was quite darkwhere I stood, but from a door slightly open at some distance before meshone a thin streak of faint light, evidently from a candle.

  Dare I approach and peep within?

  At first I hesitated, for the risk was very great, but at last summoningcourage I moved across the thick carpet to the open door and peered in.

  It was a great salon, I found, a huge, high-roofed place with old giltfurniture upholstered in red silk brocade and some marvellous buhlcabinets full of rare china and _bric-a-brac_. The place was indarkness, save for the single night-light placed upon a chair--theintruders fearing, of course, to ignite the lamps as the light wouldshine outside and perhaps attract attention.

  The great salon led into an inner room, and in there I saw their movingfigures by the light of two candles that had been put upon the carpet.They were conversing only in low whispers and seemed to be groping aboutthe floor in the farther corner of the room, as though in search ofsomething.

  I slipped into the big salon, and creeping from table to chair, bendingdouble so as to be concealed the whole time, I managed to approach nearthe door of the inner room, and took up a position where I could bothobserve their movements and overhear their words.

  Now that I reflect upon my actions of that night, I see how utterlyreckless of life I was. A single slip, a cough, a sneeze, and I shouldbe lost. And yet, holding my breath, I knelt behind that big giltarmchair wherein the princes of the _cinquecento_ had once sat, andwatched those men at their mysterious work.

  The heavy red plush curtains had been drawn across the long windows, andI recognised that the apartment was a library or study, for there werebig cases filled with old parchment-covered volumes, and set before oneof the windows was a big carved writing-table. As I watched, the doctorlit the gas-lamp upon it, removing the green silk shade so as to give abetter light in the room, and as he did so the young man in the greyhat, who had thrown off his coat and was on his hands and knees on thefloor, suddenly picked up something which he handed to Miller, saying inItalian with a grin:--"This looks a little suspicious, does it not,signore?" Miller took the object in his hand, and started. Then I sawthat it was a narrow gold bangle--a woman's bracelet. He took it to thelight, and read some words inscribed in the inside. Then he stood insilence and wonder.

  "What's the matter?" inquired Gavazzi, in broken English. "What is it?"

  His friend handed it to him without a word.

  But the doctor only shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and handed back thebangle.

  At that moment the truth flashed across my mind--the truth unknown tothose men. In that room--if that were Nardini's study--the mysteriousdiscovery had been made. The body of an unknown young Englishwoman hadbeen found there.

  Was that bangle her property? Miller had certainly recognised theinscription upon it, and knew its owner.

  I saw that he stood there with knit brows, still glancing at thebracelet, as though mystified.

  "Come," urged Gavazzi, in the brisk businesslike way which appeared tobe natural to him. "We have no time to lose if we really intend to besuccessful." And he went down upon his knees in the farther corner ofthe room, carefully feeling the surface of the blue velvet-pile carpetwith his hands.

  "We'd better have it up," he declared at last. "I feel sure it'ssomewhere in this corner."

  "Then you never actually saw it?" remarked Miller, a trifledisappointed.

  "No. But it isn't likely he would ever reveal to me where he kept hismost private secrets. We were friends, intimate friends, but GiovanniNardini was not the man to reveal to even his own father what heconsidered was a secret. See this!" And rising he walked to theoak-panelled wainscotting, touched a spring, and there was revealed asmall secret door leading down to a short flight of steps in the wallsomewhere into the cellars below--a secret mode of egress.

  Again he went to a book-case, part of which proved false, and there onpulling it away revealed a large iron safe let into the wall.

  "You see I am aware of some of his secrets. The police think they'vesearched the place, but they've never discovered either of these, that'svery certain," he laughed.

  Then, with the younger man, he proceeded to tear up the carpet, showingthat the floor, unlike that in most Italian houses, was boarded and notof mosaic.

  All three moved the furniture and gradually rolled the carpet back untilthey had half-uncovered the room. It was heavy, exciting work, and theperspiration rolled from their brows in great beads.

  Once the chair behind which I w
as concealed moved a little and the wheelsqueaked.

  Miller's quick ear caught the sound.

  "Hark!" he cried, starting up. "What's that?"

  "A mouse," exclaimed the doctor, laughing. "I heard it. Don't worryyourself, my dear James, we are safe enough now with that guard out ofthe way."

  By the aid of the candles they examined every floorboard, trying each tosee if it were movable. But they were all fast, and gave no sign ofcovering any place of concealment. They seemed to be in search of somecavity where something they believed was concealed.

  With their knuckles they tapped all over the floor, but the soundemitted was exactly the same everywhere.

  For a full hour they searched until suddenly the doctor, who had beenindefatigable, while running his hand along the floor close to the oakwainscoting quite near the writing-table, made a discovery whichinstantly brought his companions upon their knees at his