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Upon my word," Duncombe added, with a nervous little laugh, "you all seem to be trying to make my house into a Maskelyne and Cooke's home of mystery. Let us go into the dining-room and have a whisky and soda." "Not for me, thanks," Lord Runton declared. "I must go back. The real object of my coming here, Duncombe, was to see if the Mr. Spencer who called at Runton Place to-day was really Mr.
Duncombe laughed as he followed his host's lead and rose. "Get that maggot out of your brain, Andrew," he exclaimed, "as quickly as possible. Will you take my arm? Mind the corner." They found the drawing-room almost deserted. Runton raised his eyeglass and looked around. "I bet those women have collared the billiard table," he remarked. "Come along, you fellows."
One squadron of our fleet could send them to the bottom." "No doubt," Lord Runton answered. "But supposing they found an ally?" "France will never go to war with us for Russia's benefit," Duncombe declared. "Granted," Lord Runton answered, "but have you watched Germany's attitude lately?" "I can't say that I have," Duncombe admitted, "but I should never look upon Germany as a war-seeking nation."
"He behaved very decently about it on the whole; treated it quite lightly but he wouldn't let me go near the police. It was a long way the most unpleasant thing that ever happened in my house." "Never any further light upon it, I suppose?" Duncombe asked. Lord Runton shook his head. "None.
"I ought to hold my own with the partridges," Duncombe admitted, helping himself from the siphon, "but come in, come in!" A servant entered with a telegram upon a silver salver. "A boy has just brought this from Runton, sir," he said. Duncombe tore it open. He was expecting a message from his gun-maker, and he opened it without any particular interest, but as he read, his whole manner changed.
"How did you find out that she was here?" he asked. Spencer looked a little disgusted. "My dear fellow," he said, "any one with the brains of a mouse must have discovered that. Why, Lord Runton, without any of the intimations which I have received, is a little suspicious. That is merely a matter of A B C. There were difficulties, I admit, and I am sorry to say that I have never solved them.
The weariness passed from his face, and he was distinctly interested. Lord Runton, without being an ardent politician, was a man of common-sense, and was closely connected with more than one member of the Cabinet. "Are you serious, Runton?" he asked. "Absolutely! Remember, I was in Berlin for two years, and I had many opportunities of gaining an insight into affairs there.
Scanty drops of rain kept falling, an earnest of what was to come as soon as the wind should fail. Duncombe had almost to fight his way along until, through a private gate, he entered Runton Park. The house lay down in the valley about a mile away. To reach it one had to cross a ridge of hills covered with furze bushes and tumbled fragments of ancient rock. Half-way up the first ascent he paused.
Lord Runton produced his case, and a servant brought them matches. They both leaned over the gate, and watched the scattered little party slowly coming towards them. "Who is your friend Fielding?" Duncombe asked, a little bluntly. "Fellow from New York," Lord Runton answered. "He's been very decent to my brother out there, and Archibald wrote and asked me to do all we could for them.
The wind, which had kept them both half breathless, seemed full of mocking voices. She was an impostor. These were her own words. She was in danger of detection, perhaps of other things. At that very moment Spencer might have gained an entrance into Runton Place. He felt uncertain of himself, and all the time her eyes watched him jealously. "Why did you come here?" she cried.
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