that he would be persuadedto speak about the events that lay nearest to our hearts. Then hecaught me affectionately by the arm and half led, half dragged me down along corridor to a large lancet-shaped window at the end. Thiscommanded a view of the Chantry Road, the only public thoroughfare thatgave any access to St Bruno's, and also a sight of some of the fieldsthat were ranged around the monastery grounds.
"Now, my brother Hugh," he said, with a comprehensive theatricalgesture, "just take some observations for yourself, will you? Then tellme if when I came to you first I exaggerated the gravity of thesituation!"
Without a word I turned and gazed over the scene upon which a brightmorning sun, aided by a clear sky and the gentlest of breezes, poureddown its wealth of golden light. At regular intervals I espied thefigures of men who had been posted there, right round the house, forsome very obvious purpose. Some were strolling aimlessly up and down,as though they were strangers taking the morning breeze for the good oftheir healths. Others, according to their character and mood, werelurking behind trees or hedges, or half concealed behind neighbouringwalls. But all alike bore the stamp--the same brand of Cain thatliterally shouted their occupation to the most careless of observers.They could not, any one of them, rid themselves of their military gaitor bearing, and I saw at once, just as Casteno had, that they werepolicemen in plain clothes.
"Humph! Detectives!" I observed, turning away from my post ofobservation with a shrug.
"Quite so, brother Hugh, quite so," repeated Casteno, with a triumphantgrin. "You have guessed the melancholy truth the first time. They aredetectives, engaged in preventing anyone leaving this noble mansionwithout their knowledge and permission. If you had remained at thewindow a trifle longer you would doubtless have seen for yourself theirmost noble leader. As a matter of fact, he is a friend of yours--"
"And pray who is that?" I snapped, for I felt too tired to join in thisvein of merriment. "What friend have I in the force?" I asked.
"A gentleman named Naylor, very much at your service," replied Casteno.
"How? What do you mean?"
"Oh! nothing, nothing at all," airily continued my companion. "Only at5 AM he rang the bell at our gate, and after courteously wishing ourjanitor a very nice `good-morning' he ventured to inquire whether you,brother Hugh, were within. On being told, with our customary truth,that you were he promptly disavowed all desire to interfere with yourbeauty sleep, and blandly offered to wait outside till it should pleasethe fates to restore to you a sense of your own importance and thenecessity for action. Our gate custodian, being a bit of a humourist,agreed that, on the whole, he would find it nicer and warmer outside StBruno's than it was in, but vouchsafed to promise that, when you didarise, he would certainly inform you that so noble and soillustrious-looking a gentleman desired the honour of a few minutesprivate conversation with you."
"Oh I shut up that rubbish," I retorted pettishly, for I saw thatCasteno's florid periods really covered a move of a very grave andfar-reaching importance. "The point is not a joke as you pretend. Whatwe have got to decide is the best thing for me to do now Scotland Yardhas put these men on my heels! I don't want this round-table conferenceto-night to go wrong. I want to be free to be present at it. Indeed,we don't want any scandal or newspaper publicity just at present. Weshould be able to imitate moles--moles that work in the dark."
"That is true," said a voice suddenly behind me, and wheeling round Ifound that we had been joined by the Prior. "Would you care to slipoff?" he queried after a moment's painful pause. "I could find you agood disguise as a woman, with a thick black veil, too. We have apassage that runs from this house to a little clump of bushes in adistant field. You could easily dart through that and make your way offwithout being caught."
"I am afraid that would only leave you all here in a worse pickle," Ireplied after some reflection. "Naylor, after all, will only wait acertain length of time, and if he finds then that I don't materialise,as our brother at the gate promised, he will be quite wild enough toorganise a raid on the place; and remember, after all, it does containthose three precious manuscripts. No; it looks as though I must facethe worst after all."
"But what on earth can he want with you?" cried Casteno petulantly.
"That's just it," I said. "I have got to go out and see. Well, it's nogood beating about the bush. If I have to face this unpleasant andinquisitive individual, I have to, I suppose, and the sooner I get itover the better for all of us. You two must keep a sharp watch on me,that's all, and if you find I am hauled off to the police station on anypretence you must follow me up and try to bail me out."
"And, failing all else, I will go down to the House of Commons this veryafternoon and make a personal appeal for you to both Cuthbertson and theHome Secretary," cried the Member of Parliament vigorously, for now hetoo seemed to be quite upset at the line things were taking.
"All right," I said bravely. "I won't thank you. We are all now toogood friends, and too closely allied, to make use of conventionalexpressions of gratitude. I trust you--that's sufficient--and I'll stepout and meet this turn of affairs with all the courage I can muster."
With a curt nod I turned and left them and made my way down thestaircase to the hall, and thence I passed rapidly to the door that shutoff the monastery grounds from the public thoroughfare. This last wasthrown open at my approach, and I proceeded to the roadway, which for amoment after I entered it looked quite deserted. Determined to carrythe interview through with a high hand, however, I stepped out promptly,as though Whitehall at least was my destination, and then it was thatNaylor, as I expected, found himself compelled to step from behind atree and to show himself, which he did with an ugly twinkle of triumphin his small beady black eyes.
"Ah, you've come, then?" he said with a grunt, disdaining allconventional expressions of greeting.
"Yes; I've come," I answered with equal discourtesy. "What do you want,eh?" And I stepped quite close to him and faced him.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
HELD IN BONDAGE.
Long afterwards, when the bitterness of that moment had ceased to ranklein my heart, the Prior and Casteno related how eagerly they had watchedme from that long lancet-shaped window while I boldly advanced to thedetective. For their own part, they were sure Naylor meant mischief tome, but as to the means he would employ they were all at sea, and sothey were for the time all strain and attention.
Luckily, I, too, was well on my guard, and so I did not show anyundignified haste in the negotiations. Indeed, I purposely asked theinspector to explain why he had sent so earnest a message to me, and,finally cornered, he began the serious part of the conversation.
"I suppose you guess," he said, looking aimlessly first to one side ofhim and then to the other, "why I've brought a posse of men with me andsurrounded that queer place I found you in?" And with a wave of thehand he indicated the monastery.
"In truth, I don't," I answered promptly, "unless," and here I pausedrather effectively, "unless, Naylor, you have taken leave of yoursenses."
The man tried to smile, but it was a sickly effort, foredoomed tofailure.
"Ah," he observed, "you always were a hot 'un, Mr Glynn, in any game of`bluff' but it won't do this time--you've gone a bit too far for yourown comfort--and we're going to see you worsted."
"Well, that's all right," I responded cheerfully. "You won't object tothat, will you? It isn't love for me that's making you look so preciousuneasy, now, is it? Well, then, get on with your work, I shan'tobject." And producing my cigarette case I opened it and passed itcarelessly to my companion, who pushed it rather petulantly on one side.
"I don't want to smoke--I am much too serious for that," he snapped.
"Oh," I rejoined. "Well, I am not." And I struck a match and lit acigarette.
"I don't think I ought to beat about the bush any longer," he proceededafter an irritated glance at my magnificent assumption of carelessness."The fact is just this, I hold warrants for the arrest of y
ourself andthat young Spanish adventurer, Jose Casteno, or to give him his propername, Joseph Zouche."
"Indeed," said I, trying to look politely interested, "that's news ifyou like. On what charge, pray?"
"Robbery, with violence, on Worcester Racecourse--three old manuscripts,the property of Mr Peter Zouche, the hunchback, who held them asbailee!"
"You surprise me," I remarked. "Really, you do. Where does Worcesterhappen to be?" And I gave him a look of mild and innocent inquiry thatI believe would have done credit
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