The Vanished Messenger

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XXXII

  Hamel, for the next few minutes, forgot everything else in his effortsto restore to consciousness his unexpected visitor. He rebuilt thefire, heated some water upon his spirit lamp, and forced some hot drinkbetween the lips of the woman who was now almost in a state of collapse.Then he wrapped her round in his own ulster and drew her closer to thefire. He tried during those few moments to put away the memory of allthat she had told him. Gradually she began to recover. She opened hereyes and drew a little sigh. She made no effort at speech, however. Shesimply lay and looked at him like some wounded animal. He came over toher side and chafed one of her cold hands.

  "Come," he said at last, "you begin to look more like yourself now. Youare quite safe in here, and, for Esther's sake as well as your own, youknow that I am your friend."

  She nodded, and her fingers gently pressed his.

  "I am sure of it," she murmured.

  "Now let us see where we are," he continued. "Tell me exactly why yourisked so much by leaving St. David's Hall to-night and coming downhere. Isn't there any chance that he might find out?"

  "I don't know," she answered. "It was Lucy Price who sent me. She cameto my room just as I was undressing."

  "Lucy Price," he repeated. "The secretary?"

  "Yes! She told me that she had meant to come to you herself. She sentme instead. She thought it best. This man Dunster is being kept alivebecause there is something Miles wants him to tell him, and he won't.But to-night, if he is still alive, if he won't tell, they mean to makeaway with him. They are afraid."

  "Miss Price told you this?" Hamel asked gravely.

  Mrs. Fentolin nodded.

  "Yes! She said so. She knows--she knows everything. She has been likethe rest of us. She, too, has suffered. She, too, has reached thebreaking point. She loved him before the accident. She has been hisslave ever since. Listen!"

  She suddenly clutched his arm. They were both silent. There was nothingto be heard but the wind. She leaned a little closer to him.

  "Lucy Price sent me here to-night because she was afraid that it wasto-night they meant to take him from his hiding-place and kill him. Thepolice have left off searching for Mr. Dunster in Yarmouth and at TheHague. There is a detective in the neighbourhood and another one on hisway here. They are afraid to keep him alive any longer."

  "Where was Mr. Fentolin when you left?" Hamel asked.

  "I asked Lucy Price that," she replied. "When she came to my room,there were no signs of his leaving. She told me to come and tell youeverything. Do you know where Mr. Dunster is?"

  Hamel shook his head.

  "Within a few yards of here," she went on. "He is in the boat-house,the place where Miles told you he kept a model of his invention. Theybrought him here the night before they put his clothes on Ryan and senthim off disguised as Mr. Dunster, in the car to Yarmouth."

  Hamel started up, but she clutched at his arm and pulled him back. "No,"she cried, "you can't break in! There are double doors and a wonderfullock. The boat-house is yours; the building is yours. In the morning youmust demand the keys--if he does not come to-night!"

  "And how are we to know," Hamel asked, "if he comes to-night?"

  "Go outside," she whispered. "Look towards St. David's Hall and tell mehow many lights you can see."

  He drew back the bolt, unlatched the door, and stepped out into thedarkness. The wind and the driving rain beat against his face. A cloudof spray enveloped and soaked him. Like lamps hung in the sky, thelights of St. David's Hall shone out through the black gulf. He countedthem carefully; then he stepped back.

  "There are seven," he told her, closing the door with an effort.

  She counted upon her fingers.

  "I must come and see," she muttered. "I must be sure. Help me."

  He lifted her to her feet, and they staggered out together.

  "Look!" she went on, gripping his arm. "You see that row of lights? Ifanything happens, if Mr. Fentolin leaves the Hall to-night to come downhere, a light will appear on the left in the far corner. We must watchfor that light. We must watch--"

  The words, whispered hoarsely into his ear, suddenly died away. Evenas they stood there, far away from the other lights, another one shonesuddenly out in the spot towards which she had pointed, and continuedto burn steadily. He felt the woman who was clinging to his arm becomesuddenly a dead weight.

  "She was right!" Mrs. Fentolin moaned. "He is coming down to-night! Heis preparing to leave now; perhaps he has already started! What shall wedo? What shall we do?"

  Hamel was conscious of a gathering sense of excitement. He, too, lookedat the signal which was flashing out its message towards them. Thenhe gripped his companion's arm and almost carried her back into thesitting-room.

  "Look here," he said firmly, "you can do nothing further. You havedone your part and done it well. Stay where you are and wait. The restbelongs to me."

  "But what can you do?" she demanded, her voice shaking with fear."Meekins will come with him, and Doctor Sarson, unless he is herealready. What can you do against them? Meekins can break any ordinaryman's back, and Mr. Fentolin will have a revolver."

  Hamel threw another log on to the fire and drew her chair closer to it.

  "Never mind about," he declared cheerfully. "Mr. Fentolin is too cleverto attempt violence, except as a last resource. He knows that I havefriends in London who would need some explanation of my disappearance.Stay here and wait."

  She recognised the note of authority in his tone, and she bowed herhead. Then she looked up at him; she was a changed woman.

  "Perhaps I have done ill to drag you into our troubles, Mr. Hamel," shesaid, "and yet, I believe in you. I believe that you really care forEsther. If you can help us now, it will be for your happiness, too. Youare a man. God bless you!"

  Hamel groped his way round the side of the Tower and took up a positionat the extreme corner of the landward side of the building, within ayard of the closed doors. The light far out upon the left was stillgleaming brightly, but two of the others in a line with it haddisappeared. He flattened himself against the wall and waited, listeningintently, his eyes straining through the darkness. Yet they were almostupon him before he had the slightest indication of their presence. Asingle gleam of light in the path, come and gone like a flash, the gleamof an electric torch directed momentarily towards the road, was hisfirst indication that they were near. A moment or two later he heardthe strange click, click of the little engine attached to Mr. Fentolin'schair. Hamel set his teeth and stepped a few inches further back. Thedarkness was so intense that they were actually within a yard or so ofhim before he could even dimly discern their shapes. There were threeof them--Mr. Fentolin in his chair, Doctor Sarson, and Meekins. Theypaused for a moment while the latter produced a key. Hamel distinctlyheard a slow, soft whisper from Doctor Sarson.

  "Shall I go round to the front and see that he is in bed?"

  "No need," Mr. Fentolin replied calmly. "It is nearly four o'clock.Better not to risk the sound of your footsteps upon the pebbles. Now!"

  The door swung noiselessly open. The darkness was so complete that eventhough Hamel could have touched them with an outstretched hand, theirshapes were invisible. Hamel, who had formed no definite plans, had notime to hesitate. As the last one disappeared through the door, he,too, slipped in. He turned abruptly to the left and, holding his breath,stood against the wall. The door closed behind them. The gleam of theelectric light flashed across the stone floor and rested for a momentupon a trap-door, which Meekins had already stooped to lift. It fellback noiselessly upon rubber studs, and Meekins immediately slippedthrough it a ladder, on either side of which was a grooved stretch ofboard, evidently fashioned to allow Mr. Fentolin's carriage to passdown. Hamel held his breath. The moment for him was critical. If thelight flashed once in his direction, he must be discovered. Both Meekinsand Doctor Sarson, however, were intent upon the task of steering Mr.Fentolin's little carriage down below. They placed the wheels in the twogrooves, and Me
ekins secured the carriage with a rope which he letrun through his fingers. As soon as the little vehicle had apparentlyreached the bottom, he turned, thrust the electric torch in his pocket,and stepped lightly down the ladder. Doctor Sarson followed his example.They disappeared in perfect silence and left the door open. Presently agleam of light came travelling up, from which Hamel knew that they hadlit a lamp below. Very softly he crept across the floor, threw himselfupon his stomach and peered down. Below him was a room, or rather acellar, parts of which seemed to have been cut out of the solid rock.Immediately underneath was a plain iron bedstead, on which was lyingstretched the figure of a man. In those first few moments Hamel failedaltogether to recognise Mr. Dunster. He was thin and white, and heseemed to have shrunken; his face, with its coarse growth of beard,seemed like the face of an old man. Yet the eyes were open, eyes dulland heavy as though with pain. So far no word had been spoken, but atthat moment Mr. Fentolin broke the silence.

  "My dear guest," he said, "I bring you our most sincere apologies.It has gone very much against the grain, I can assure you, to haveneglected you for so long a time. It is entirely the fault of the verytroublesome young man who occupies the other portion of this building.In the daytime his presence makes it exceedingly difficult for us tooffer you those little attentions which you might naturally expect."

  The man upon the bed neither moved nor changed his position in any way.Nor did he speak. All power of initiative seemed to have deserted him.He lay quite still, his eyes fixed upon Mr. Fentolin.

  "There comes a time," the latter continued, "when every one of us isconfronted with what might be described as the crisis of our lives.Yours has come, my guest, at precisely this moment. It is, if my watchtells me the truth, five and twenty minutes to four. It is the lastday of April. The year you know. You have exactly one minute to decidewhether you will live a short time longer, or whether you will on thislast day of April, and before--say, a quarter to four, make that littlejourney the nature of which you and I have discussed more than once."

  Still the man upon the bed made no movement nor any reply. Mr. Fentolinsighed and beckoned to Doctor Sarson.

  "I am afraid," he whispered, "that that wonderful drug of yours, Doctor,has been even a little too far-reaching in its results. It has kept ourfriend so quiet that he has lost even the power of speech, perhaps eventhe desire to speak. A little restorative, I think--just a few drops."

  Doctor Sarson nodded silently. He drew from his pocket a little phialand poured into a wine-glass which stood on a table by the side of thebed, half a dozen drops of some ruby-coloured liquid, to which he addeda tablespoonful of water. Then he leaned once more over the bed andpoured the contents of the glass between the lips of the semi-consciousman.

  "Give him two minutes," he said calmly. "He will be able to speak then."

  Mr. Fentolin nodded and leaned back in his chair. He glanced around theroom a little critically. There was a thick carpet upon the floor, asofa piled with cushions in one corner, and several other articles offurniture. The walls, however, were uncovered and were stained withdamp. A great pink fungus stood out within a few inches of the bed, agrim mixture of exquisite colouring and loathsome imperfections. Theatmosphere was fetid. Meekins suddenly struck a match and lit somegrains of powder in a saucer. A curious odour of incense stole throughthe place. Mr. Fentolin nodded appreciatively.

  "That is better," he declared. "Really, the atmosphere here ispositively unpleasant. I am ashamed to think that our guest has had toput up with it so long. And yet," he went on, "I think we must call ithis own fault. I trust that he will no longer be obstinate."

  The effect of the restorative began to show itself. The man on the bedmoved restlessly. His eyes were no longer altogether expressionless. Hewas staring at Mr. Fentolin as one looks at some horrible vision. Mr.Fentolin smiled pleasantly.

  "Now you are looking more like your old self, my dear Mr. Dunster," heremarked. "I don't think that I need repeat what I said when I firstcame, need I? You have just to utter that one word, and your littlevisit to us will be at an end."

  The man looked around at all of them. He raised himself a little onhis elbow. For the first time, Hamel, crouching above, recognised anylikeness to Mr. John P. Dunster.

  "I'll see you in hell first!"

  Mr. Fentolin's face momentarily darkened. He moved a little nearer tothe man upon the bed.

  "Dunster," he said, "I am in grim earnest. Never mind arguments. Nevermind why I am on the other side. They are restless about you in America.Unless I can cable that word to-morrow morning, they'll communicatedirect with The Hague, and I shall have had my trouble for nothing. Itis not my custom to put up with failure. Therefore, let me tell youthat no single one of my threats has been exaggerated. My patience hasreached its breaking point. Give me that word, or before four o'clockstrikes, you will find yourself in a new chamber, among the corpses ofthose misguided fishermen, mariners of ancient days, and a few others.It's only a matter of fifty yards out to the great sea pit below theDagger Rocks--I've spoken to you about it before, haven't I? So surelyas I speak to you of it at this moment."

  Mr. Fentolin's speech came to an abrupt termination. A convulsivemovement of Meekins', an expression of blank amazement on the part ofDoctor Sarson, had suddenly checked the words upon his lips. He turnedhis head quickly in the direction towards which they had been gazing,towards which in fact, at that moment, Meekins, with a low cry, had madea fruitless spring. The ladder down which they had descended was slowlydisappearing. Meekins, with a jump, missed the last rung by only a fewinches. Some unseen hand was drawing it up. Already the last few feetwere vanishing in mid-air. Mr. Fentolin sat quite quiet and still. Helooked through the trap-door and saw Hamel.

  "Most ingenious and, I must confess, most successful, my young friend!"he exclaimed pleasantly. "When you have made the ladder quite secure,perhaps you will be so good as to discuss this little matter with us?"

  There was no immediate reply. The eyes of all four men were turned nowupon that empty space through which the ladder had finally disappeared.Mr. Fentolin's fingers disappeared within the pocket of his coat.Something very bright was glistening in his hand when he withdrew it.

  "Come and parley with us, Mr. Hamel," he begged. "You will not find usunreasonable."

  Hamel's voice came back in reply, but Hamel himself kept well away fromthe opening.

  "The conditions," he said, "are unpropitious. A little time forreflection will do you no harm."

  The trap-doors were suddenly closed. Mr. Fentolin's face, as he lookedup, became diabolic.

  "We are trapped!" he muttered; "caught like rats in a hole!"