Whatsoever a Man Soweth

by William Le Queux

she had gone toDumfries, when really she had travelled in the opposite direction. Shehad purposely misled me.

  "The lady left hurriedly, it would appear."

  "Yes, sir. About five o'clock a gentleman called to see her, and shemet him in the hall. She was very pale, I noticed, as though she wassurprised at his visit, or rather upset. But they went out together.She returned an hour later, wrote this letter, which she told me to giveto you if you called, and then left for Fort William."

  "And did the man call again?"

  "Yes. She said he would, and she told me to tell him that she had goneto Edinburgh. I told him that, and he seemed very surprised, but wentaway. He was in evening dress, and it seemed as though they hadintended dining together. She seemed," added the man rather sneeringly,"to be more like a lady's-maid than a lady."

  "But the gentleman, describe him to me."

  "Oh! he was a rather short, podgy man, fair, with a baldish head."

  Was it Parham? the description suited him.

  "He gave no card?"

  "No. He met the young lady here in the hall. My idea was that hispresence was very unwelcome, as she seemed in great fear lest he shouldreturn before she could get away."

  "Has the man left Glasgow?"

  "I think so. I saw him on the platform about nine, just before theEdinburgh express left. He's probably gone on there. He seemed quite agentleman."

  "They appeared to be friendly?"

  "Perfectly. Only she evidently did not expect to meet him. She askedthe name of a hotel at Fort William, and I told her to go to theStation."

  "Then she's there!" I exclaimed quickly.

  "Probably. She arrived there this morning."

  I tipped the man, and after idling in Glasgow some hours, left for FortWilliam, determined to disobey Sybil's order to go back to Newcastle.

  It was a long but picturesque journey. When I arrived I went at once tothe hotel to inquire if Mrs Morton were there.

  The manageress shook her head, saying,--

  "There was a Mrs Morton, a young woman like a lady's-maid, who arrivedhere yesterday morning, and left here last evening. A lady was awaitingher--her mistress, I think."

  "What was her name?"

  "Mrs Rumbold," was the answer, after referring to the visitors' book.

  "Rumbold!" The name of the secret lover.

  "Was she old or young?"

  "Elderly, with grey hair. A rather stiff, formal kind of person."

  "Where have they gone?"

  "I heard Mrs Rumbold say that she wanted to go to Oban. So perhapsthey've gone there."

  There was a boat down to Oban in three hours' time, therefore I took it,passed down the beautiful Loch and by the island of Lismore, places toowell known to the traveller in Scotland to need any description, andthat same evening found myself in Oban, the Charing Cross of theHighlands. I had been there several times before, and always stayed atthe Great Western. Therefore I took the hotel omnibus, and on alightingasked if a Mrs Rumbold was staying there.

  The reply was a negative one, therefore I went round to several otherhotels, finding at last that she and "her maid" had taken a room at theAlexandra that morning, but had suddenly changed their plans, and hadleft at two o'clock by train for the south, but whether for Glasgow orEdinburgh was not known.

  I therefore lost track of them. Sybil had apparently successfullyescaped from her male visitor at Glasgow, while at the same time MrsRumbold--probably the mother of the man she loved in secret--had awaitedher up at Fort William.

  For what reason? Why was she now masquerading as maid of the mother ofher lover?

  Again, if her visitor in Glasgow was really Parham, he must have veryquickly obtained knowledge of her whereabouts, for only a few daysbefore I had watched him arrange that ingenious plot against her inDean's Yard--a plot which would have no doubt been carried intoexecution if Sybil had been present.

  I hesitated how to act.

  If they had gone south, it was useless for me to remain in Oban. Herappointment with me was in Newcastle, and it seemed certain that shewould sooner or later seek me there. But at that moment my curiositywas aroused regarding this Mrs Rumbold, as to who and what she was, andfurther, as to the identity of Arthur, about whom the dead man had knownso much.

  I left Oban and went back to Glasgow. My friend, the hall-porter at theCentral Station, was talkative, but had not seen the lady again. Itstruck me that as the bald-headed man had met her in Glasgow, and as shehad left a message for him that she had gone to Edinburgh, she wouldnaturally avoid both places, or at any rate not halt there.

  Had she gone on to Dumfries? She had left a message for me that she wasthere. Would she now go there in order to see if I were awaiting herinstead of at Newcastle?

  Dumfries, the town of Burns, was on my way down to Carlisle, therefore Iresolved to make a halt there for an hour or two to inquire.

  I remained the night in Glasgow, for I was fagged out by so muchtravelling, and next day, just before twelve, I alighted at Dumfries. Ihad never been there before, but outside the station I saw the RailwayHotel, and entering, asked whether Mrs Rumbold was staying there.

  Yes, she was. Did I wish to see her? asked the lady clerk in thebureau.

  I replied in the affirmative, and sent her my name, "Mr Morton,"written on a slip of paper.

  The waiter returned with a curious look upon his face. I saw in aninstant that something had occurred and was not surprised when hesaid,--

  "Mrs Rumbold has a bad headache, sir, and would be glad if you'd callagain about five or six. The chambermaid says she's lying down."

  "Is there another person with her?" I inquired. "Her own maid, Imean."

  "No, sir. She's alone."

  "Are you quite sure of that?"

  "Quite. I took her name when she arrived in the hotel. She has nomaid."

  "And no lady friend?"

  "No. She's entirely alone."

  That surprised me. Had Sybil parted from her and gone straight on toNewcastle in order to find me? There was nothing to be done but to waittill half-past five, and call again on Mrs Rumbold. I therefore took aroom at the hotel, and lunched in the coffee-room.

  The woman's excuse made me suspicious that she wished to avoid meetingme, and that when I returned at six I should find her gone.

  So I passed the time in writing letters, and remained in patience untilhalf-past five, when I sent up again to know if she would receive me.The answer came back that she was still too unwell, and I sent word toher that I could wait, as I wished to see her upon a very importantmatter.

  My determination showed her that I did not intend that she shouldescape; therefore, just before the dinner gong rang the waiter came tome and said that the lady was in the small drawing-room upstairs andwould see me.

  I ascended the stairs wondering what would be the outcome of myinterview. I wanted to ascertain who the woman was and the nature ofthe relations between her and Sybil.

  When I entered the room a rather elderly lady with whitish hair severelybrushed back and attired in deep black rose to meet me, bowing stifflyand saying--

  "I have not the honour of your acquaintance, Mr Morton, and am rathercurious to know what you want with me."

  "Well, madam," I replied, "the fact is I want to ask you a question.The Honourable Sybil Burnet has been travelling with you dressed as alady's-maid, and I am here to learn where she has now gone."

  The woman started in surprise, and glared at me. She probably, from mydisguise as a working-man, put me down as a detective.

  "And my reply to you, sir, is that Miss Sybil's destination is her ownaffair. We parted, and she has gone south. That is all I know."

  "But you also know the reason why she is masquerading as a maid; why atFort William and at Oban you made people believe she was your maid. Youhad a motive, and I think you may as well admit it."

  "I do not see your right to question me about my private affairs!" sheexclaimed angrily. "This i
s monstrous!"

  "I have no desire to pry into your affairs, madam," I answered, quitecoolly. "The Honourable Sybil is a friend of mine, and I am anxious toknow her whereabouts," I said.

  "But I cannot tell you what I don't know myself. She went on toCarlisle--that's all I know."

  "She parted from you suddenly. Why?" I asked. "Shall I tell you?Because she is in fear of being followed," I exclaimed, and, smiling,added, "I think, madam, that I hold greater knowledge of the family thanperhaps even you do yourself. I have known the Scarcliffs all my life.Old Lady Scarcliff is greatly upset regarding Sybil's protractedabsence. They are beginning to think that something has happened toher. I can now tell her that she has been with you, masquerading