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"I allege that on the night of Wednesday, November the seventh last, I was passing your house in Stretton Street, Park Lane, when your man, Horton, invited me inside, and well, well I need not describe what occurred there, for you recollect only too vividly without a doubt. But what I demand to know is why you asked me in, and what happened to me after you gave me that money?" "Money!
A groom had been dispatched for a doctor, and his Grace of Wharton had compelled Rotherby to accompany them into his father's house, sternly threatening to hand him over to a constable at once if he refused. Within the cool hall of Stretton House they were met by her ladyship and Mistress Winthrop, both pale, but the eyes of each wearing a vastly different expression.
While I sat chatting with her it struck me that in the blank state of her mind certain things stood out very prominently a mental state well known to alienists while others were entirely blotted out. I referred to the millionaire who lived in Stretton Street, but again she declared, and with truth, that she had no recollection of him.
He the last time I spoke to him he wouldn't even tell me what he'd done with his gang; just said he had them somewhere safe, in the last place you or Dudley would ever look for them. Oh, you needn't hold me any more; I've given in; I'm not going to meet Dick to-night. But I had to tell you about his gang, if I can't about him. And listen, Mr. Stretton.
To the hundreds of visitors of all nations, who came up by train to Fiesole from Florence to lunch or dine at the various pleasant little restaurants, the great imposing place was pointed out as the residence of the rich "Inglese" the man who possessed more money than any of the most wealthy in the kingdom of Italy. When I thought of that fateful night in Stretton Street, I waxed furious.
Had the tutor dropped it as he loitered in the road? Hugo was off his horse instantly, and had the paper in his hand. It was a letter written on thin, foreign paper, in a small, neat, foreign hand; it was addressed to Mr. John Stretton, and it was written in Italian.
"Oh, the usual old crowd," answered Jesson "I don't expect you know many of them though, do you, Major? Ginger Stretton in the 14th Battalion do you know him by any chance?" "No, I don't think I do." His face was in the shadow, but had it been visible a slightly puzzled frown might have been seen on his forehead.
"My men shall carry him across to Stretton House," said Lord Ostermore. "Lend a hand here, you gaping oafs." The footmen advanced. The crowd, which was growing rapidly and was watching almost in silence, awed, pressed as close as it dared upon these gentlemen. Mainwaring procured a couple of cloaks and improvised a stretcher with them.
"Plotting?" echoed Hortensia. "Ay plotting, simpleton. I said plotting. I mind me 'tis not the first time I have seen them so mysterious together. It began on the day that first Mr. Caryll set foot at Stretton House. There's a deal of mystery about that man too much for honesty.
If you desire to ascertain the great ramifications of the desperate plots conceived by De Gex and his friends, and take steps to combat them, it will be best to allow his accomplice Sanz further liberty. Keep vigilant watch, but do not allow him to suspect," I urged. "He will no doubt go to Stretton Street again.
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