XVIII
In the corridor I met Nancy. I told her what had occurred between Sir Desmond and myself, and of the appearance of the princess on the scene. To my astonishment she did not attach great importance to the matter.
“I'm not sure it isn't the best thing that could have happened,” she said thoughtfully. “It will help to clear up all this misunderstanding. Of course they'll be reconciled.”
“Well, there's an end of the matter, so far as I am concerned,” I said. “I shall clear out now, Nancy. I must hand over your money, minus ten pounds for my services. I have an account of everything, and I want to catch the six o'clock train to Limerick and get to town to-morrow.”
“But you can't leave here now,” she objected. “With this charge hanging over you, your sudden departure would be taken as a proof of guilt. You must remain here, let the count do his worst, meet the charges against you, and show that you're not afraid of them.”
“Oh!” I said rather blankly. “I never thought of that, Nancy. I'll stay and see the thing through; but I can't stay here. The master of the house has turned me out.”
“Um!” she said, nodding her head. “Before night he will probably be asking you to come back. Listen, Cosmo—pack your grip, drive into Ennis, and put up at one of the hotels. Before the evening is over, Sir Desmond will be at your door to ask you to return. Leave a formal note here saying where you may be found.”
“All right!” I agreed. “I'll go, Nancy; but since this adventure is at an end, let us settle.”
“It's not an end,” she said, pushing my pocketbook aside. “That must wait until Amirel can attend to it.”
Within a quarter of an hour I had said good-by to Nancy, and was crossing the park.
As we drove along the road to Ennis we overtook Carburton trudging along in the dust.
“Can we give you a lift?” I said. “There's a seat behind.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “I'm a bit leg weary. I see you've got a grip—going off, eh?”
“I am going to spend a few days in Ennis,” I told him. “By the way, can you recommend your hotel?”
“Oh, it's all right,” he answered, “but I doubt if you'll get a room there. Try the hotel by the cathedral—I believe there's room there. That's where the two foreigners are staying.”
I knew that, and it did not encourage me to go there; but it occurred to me that if I were located in the same house I might study the habits and customs of Count Hofberg, and obtain knowledge and information which might eventually prove useful.
“I think I will go there,” I said. Then, in a sudden burst of hospitality, I added: “And I hope you'll dine with me to-night, Mr. Carburton.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I'll come around about seven.”
Carburton and I descended from the dogcart together, and while he proceeded into town I walked into the garden of the hotel. There, in a corner, where they were secure from interruption, I saw Prince Adalbert, Count Hofberg, Jefferson, and a stranger. They sat around a small table, and though Jefferson's chair was drawn a little apart, and his attitude respectful, it was plain that all four were cheek by jowl.
As I walked across the garden to the hotel, each regarded me with a stare in which there was something more than curiosity. I entered the house, arranged for a room, and had my grip carried in. Then I loafed on the porch, smoking and looking around.
For awhile the four eyed me inquisitively. I paid no attention to them. They resumed their conversation, and I went for a stroll through the town until dinner.
When the little artist joined me, I was relieved to find that his original ideas as to clothing appeared to cease with the close of his day's labor. He was dressed in a neat suit of blue serge, and although his necktie was voluminous it was of black silk and inconspicuous. We dined amicably, and had the coffeeroom all to ourselves.
“I hear there was a robbery at Annalleen last night,” said Carburton.
“Oh! Who told you that?” I inquired.
“It's talked of in the town,” he answered carelessly. “I heard them discussing it at the Crown as I came out. Jewels, wasn't it?
“There was a robbery during the night,” I replied; “but I don't know how the news of it got abroad.”
“Oh, the servants!” he said. “You can't keep them from talking. I hear that Sir Desmond Adare has returned, too. By the way, isn't there some romance about the princess and him?” I think I showed some trace of annoyance at this, for he added: “Oh, well, never mind! Sorry I spoke.”
After dinner we went into the garden to smoke. We had not been there long when wheels sounded in the street outside the high wall that shut us in. The door of the garden was opened, and Sir Desmond Adare appeared.
Catching sight of me as he entered, he came forward with an air of joyous confidence, and stretched out his hand with geniality. I gave him my own readily enough. He took it with a firmness of grip which showed the honesty of his changed demeanor.
“Mr. Hanmer,” said he, “I beg your pardon. I have treated you infamously, and I regret it. I sincerely believe you innocent of the charge brought against you by Count Hofberg, and I can never sufficiently thank you for your services to the princess. I think I must have been overstrained and overwrought this afternoon,” he went on. “Look at this! I received it at Southampton, together with several letters from the princess, which she had forwarded there. It is Hofberg's work. I was smarting from that stuff when I arrived at Annalleen this afternoon, Mr. Hanmer, and I am afraid that I allowed it to influence me in some degree against you.”
He handed me a folded newspaper as he spoke, and pointed to an article marked with a blue pencil.
The paper was one of the publications that exist on personal gossip and the latest scandals and rumors. The article was skilfully written. It set forth the trouble occasioned her family by a European princess of a romantic turn of mind, who had fallen madly in love with a well known Irish baronet, handsome and rich, an officer in one of the crack cavalry regiments now stationed in South Africa. The facts of the princess's flight from her brother's court and the circumstances of her journey to Ireland were narrated with exactitude. The sting of the whole article came in the last paragraph, wherein the writer expressed his regret that the princess's youth and inexperience should have betrayed her into choosing for a protector a disgraced and cashiered officer, whose excesses with cards and bottles were still the talk of certain military circles. In conclusion it was hinted that the gallant lover, who was reported racing from South Africa to marry the princess, would scarcely care to find his ladylove had spent three weeks in the intimate society of such a person.
I read the article through, and handed the paper back to Sir Desmond.
“I'm not sure that the writer isn't quite correct in all he says,” I said; “save, of course, in his innuendo and suggestion. I ought to ask your pardon for my thoughtlessness. Miss St. Clair was anxious to the last point of impulsiveness to serve her friend, and neither she nor I thought of the harm we might be doing. I began to think of that when it was too late, and I shall go on thinking of it as a grave mistake. I confess that at first I joined in this adventure solely to please my old friend Nancy, though afterward I tried to serve the princess to the best of my ability.”
“There is no harm done,” Sir Desmond declared. “As for this thing”—he tore the paper in half and flung the pieces away—“I care that much for it! And now, Mr. Hanmer, will you return with me to Annalleen? You will do me a great favor if you will. I shall be glad of your help regarding this robbery, and I shall also be glad of your company, for I shall be very lonely otherwise.”
I looked at him in astonishment.
“The princess and Miss St. Clair have gone to stay with my old friend Mrs. Smythe, who lives a few miles from the castle,” he said. “Mrs. Smythe offered to accommodate the princess until our wedding day, which will be within the week; so I wish you would come back and keep me company.”
“If you will excuse me,” I said, “I think I'll stay here for a few days. I want to keep Count Hofberg and the man Jefferson under observation. I suspect those two of being in collusion about something, and I shall be much surprised if we do not see some development in a day or two. In any case I can't return with you to-night, because I have a guest here,” I concluded, pointing out Carburton.
Sir Desmond desired to make Carburton's acquaintance, and I made the two known to each other. The artist, with his usual readiness of speech, began to talk of a subject in which we both became interested. At length Sir Desmond aroused himself with an effort.
“That is very interesting,” he said, rising. “We must continue this conversation, Mr. Carburton. You must dine with me some evening very soon. I am keeping up my bachelor state for a few days longer.”
Carburton accepted the invitation in his usual cool fashion, and remarked that he would drive out with me to Annalleen on the day Sir Desmond named.
“I hope to see Mr. Hanmer back at the castle to-morrow,” remarked Sir Desmond. Then he turned to me. “Come back whenever you please,” he said. “Your room is waiting for you.”
We went out to the street together. I was suddenly aware that I had become very sleepy.
“I haven't quite got over the effects of last night,” I told Sir Desmond, who was walking in front with me, Carburton lingering behind to light his pipe. “I can feel the influence of that drug yet. By the way, how was Deasy when you left?”
“Coming around gradually,” he replied. “He was still confused and hazy about everything, but I hope to find him in his usual health to-morrow morning. He may be able to throw some light on this affair.”
We had reached the dogcart by that time. Carburton coming up to us, we all said good night, and Sir Desmond drove away. The artist and I strolled slowly back. As we reached the garden gate I could not repress a yawn.
“Sleepy, eh?” said he. “Well, I'm a bit tired myself. I'll go home.”
I asked him to have a drink before he went, and we stepped into the hotel. Two stalwart policemen lounged at the bar. As we entered they turned and looked at us. One of them, a sergeant, coming forward, saluted me with every show of respect.
“Mr. Hanmer?” said he.
I nodded assent.
“Could I have a word with you, sir?” he asked, looking meaningly at the door of the coffeeroom.
I walked into the room.
“Yes,” I said, looking at the man who had first addressed me. “You have something to say to me?”
“Well, the truth is, sir,” he told me, “I have a warrant for your arrest. Will I read it to you?”
“It's not necessary,” I replied. “I suppose I am accused of stealing the jewels that disappeared at Annalleen last night?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right!” I said. “I suppose you want me to accompany you?”
“We do,” he replied.
I called Carburton in and got him to fetch two or three things from my room. After that the artist and I walked off with the two policemen.
Carburton wanted to give bail for me to any amount the inspector liked to name, and it was only through my entreaties and protestations that he consented to go away. When he had finally departed, and the sergeant had locked me up, I stretched myself out on the narrow bed and immediately fell into a sound, dreamless sleep.