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Updated: May 18, 2025
From room to room he rushed, but found only two rooms on the ground floor furnished a sitting-room, which had been the original dining-room, while in the study was a chair-bed, most probably where Pietro slept. On the table lay a heavy revolver, fully loaded, and this Fetherston quickly transferred to his jacket pocket.
Fetherston took the big sheet of blue official paper which the police official handed to him, and found that it was the copy of a confidential report made by the Superintendent of Police at Maldon, in Essex, and read as follows: "I, William Warden, Superintendent of Police for the Borough of Maldon, desire to report to the Commissioner of Metropolitan Police the following statement from Sergeant S. Deacon, Essex Constabulary, stationed at Southminster, which is as below: "'On Friday, the thirteenth of September last, a gentleman, evidently a foreigner, was sent by Messrs.
"One day they'll have a rude awakening," declared Fetherston, still thinking, however, of that letter of the dead man to Enid. "I wonder," he added, "I wonder who inspires these denials?
Observe one of those fellows the instant an educated gentleman appears in the circle of which he is the attraction, how his eye will quail and his voice sink, and he will endeavour to sneak away before his true character is exposed. I need scarcely advise my readers not to be misled by such pretenders. The property on which we had resolved to poach was owned by Lord Fetherston.
"This isn't a particularly cheerful abode, is it, sergeant?" "No, sir, if I lived 'ere I'd have the blues in a week," laughed the man. "I can't think 'ow Mr. Bailey employs 'is time." "Poultry-farming," laughed Fetherston, as, standing on tiptoe, he examined the window-latch by flashing on the electric torch. "No good!" he declared. "There's a shutter covered with new sheet-iron behind."
Caldwell were very pleased that they had adopted his suggestion of going there instead of to overcrowded Cairo. As he sat with Sir Hugh and his wife in that pretty drawing-room he knew so well the old general suddenly said: "I suppose, Fetherston, you are still taking as keen an interest in the latest mysteries of crime eh?" "Yes, Sir Hugh. As you know, I've written a good deal upon the subject."
"Enid!" exclaimed Fetherston, as the girl reluctantly crossed the threshold with downcast head, "what is the meaning of this? Why are you paying a visit to this house at such an hour?" "Ah, Walter," she cried, her small, gloved hands clenched with a sudden outburst of emotion, "be patient and hear me! I will tell you everything everything!" "You won't," growled the doctor sharply.
He had left Hill Street five minutes after Fetherston, and driven down to the Savoy, where he had a rendezvous for supper with his friend. That he was an habitué there was patent from the fact that upon entering the restaurant, Alphonse, the maître d'hôtel, with his plan of the tables pinned upon the board, greeted him with, "Ah! good evening, Docteur.
He glanced at the watch upon his wrist, adjusted his monocle, and said something in an undertone to the captain. The firing proceeded, while Fetherston, his ears dulled by the constant roar, watched the bursting shells with interest. "I wonder what the lighthouse men think of it now?" he laughed, turning to his friend. "A misdirected shot would send them quickly to kingdom come!"
On his return, with many a cuff he dragged me along towards the third person I spoke of, and whom I at once recognised as Lord Fetherston himself. He did not remember me; but the keepers did, I suspect, from the first. "What is your name, youngster?" said his lordship in a severe tone. I told him, with the shame I felt strongly depicted on my countenance. "I am sorry to hear it," he replied.
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