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Then, after a pause, they all agreed to wait and witness the dramatic arrest of the man who was charged with some mysterious offence. Speculation was rife as to what it would be, and almost every crime in the calendar was cited as likely. Meanwhile Fetherston, returning to the barely-furnished sitting-room, interrogated Pietro in Italian, but only obtained sullen answers.
Everyone next instant listened to a noise which sounded outside. As it grew nearer it grew more distinct the whir of an approaching motor-car. It pulled up suddenly before the door, and a moment later the old bell clanged loudly through the half-empty house. Fetherston left the room, and going to the door, threw it open, when yet another surprise awaited him.
Fetherston, you are quite a stranger! We hoped to see more of you, but my husband and daughter have been away in France as perhaps you know." "So Enid has been telling me," replied Walter. "They've been in a most interesting district." "Enid is leaving us again to-morrow morning," remarked her mother. "They are going to Nervi.
He had loved her, as he believed her to be a woman with heart and soul too pure to harbour an evil thought. But her story of the death of poor Bellairs, the man who had loved her, had convinced him that his suspicions were, alas! only too well grounded. A SILENCE had fallen between the pair. Again Walter Fetherston glanced at her. She was an outdoor girl to the tips of her fingers.
Walter Fetherston contemplated in silence the fine cat's-eye and diamond ring upon his finger a ring sent him long ago by an anonymous admirer of his books, which he had ever since worn as a mascot. At one moment he held this girl in distinct suspicion; at the next, however, he realised her peril, and resolved to stand by her as her champion. Did he really and honestly love her?
"I don't understand you," said Fetherston, much interested in this latest psychic problem. "Neither do I understand myself," she answered in bewilderment. "To me this man's power, fascination whatever you may term it is a complete mystery." "I will investigate it," said Fetherston promptly. "What is his address?" She told him, and he scribbled it upon his shirt-cuff.
Fetherston met the young lady outside after luncheon, and they had an argument in secret, eh?" asked the stranger. Henry replied in the affirmative, declaring that he unfortunately could not overhear the subject under discussion. But he believed the pair had quarrelled. "And where has Mr. Fetherston gone?" asked his keen-eyed questioner.
She was wondering whether Walter Fetherston had guessed the truth, that she had loved that man who had met with such an untimely end. Her companion, on his part, was equally puzzled. That story of Barker's finding a white feather was a curious one.
AT eleven o'clock next morning Fetherston stood in Trendall's room at Scotland Yard reporting to him the suspicious movements of Monsieur and Madame Granier. His friend leaned back in his padded chair listening while the keen-faced man in pince-nez related all the facts, and in doing so showed how shrewd and astute he had been. "Then they are just what we thought," remarked the chief.
The general made a quick gesture of impatience, but did not reply. It was upon the tip of Weirmarsh's tongue to refer to Walter Fetherston, but next instant he had reflected. If Sir Hugh really intended to abandon himself to remorse and make a fool of himself, why should he stretch forth a hand to save him?
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