The Avenger
by
E. Phillips Oppenheim
Part 4 out of 6
"I am sorry," Wrayson answered, "but I cannot very well be more
explicit. The matter is one in which a good many other people are
concerned, and I might add that it is a hopeless mystery to me. All I
know is that a crime was committed; that this young lady was present
under suspicious circumstances; that I, in certain evidence I had to
give, concealed the fact of her presence; and that now a third person
turns up, who also knew of the young lady's presence, but who was not
called upon to give evidence, who is working on his own account to clear
up the whole affair. He happens to be a friend of mine, and he warned me
frankly to clear out."
"I am beginning to follow you," Duncan said thoughtfully. "Now what
about Madame de Melbain?"
"I know absolutely nothing of her," Wrayson answered. "I found out where
the young lady was from the Baroness de Sturm, with whom she was living
in London, and I came over to warn her."
"The young lady was living with the Baroness de Sturm?" Duncan repeated.
"Is she, then, an orphan?"
"No!" Wrayson answered. "She is, for some reason--I do not know
why--estranged from her family. Now the question arises, has this fellow
here come over to track her down? Is he an English detective?"
Duncan turned deliberately round and stared at the person whom they were
discussing.
"I should doubt it very much," he answered. "For my part, I don't believe
for a moment that he is an Englishman at all."
"I am very glad to hear you say so," Wrayson declared. "But the question
is, if he is not on this business, what the devil is he doing here?"
"Have you the _entr�e_ to the chate�u?" Duncan asked abruptly.
"I am invited to dine there this evening," Wrayson answered.
"Then, if I were you," Duncan said, "I should make a point of
ascertaining, if you can, the personality of this Madame de Melbain."
Wrayson nodded.
"I shall see her, of course," he said, "and I will do so."
"My own idea," Duncan said deliberately, "is that it is in connection
with her presence here that the landlord of the inn and the villagers
have received these injunctions about strangers. Try and find out what
you can about her, and in the meantime I will look after the gentleman
over there. He wants to be friendly--I will make a companion of him. When
you come back to-night we will have another talk."
"It's awfully good of you," Wrayson said. "And now--I've one thing
more to say."
Duncan nodded.
"Go on," he said.
"I have taken you into my confidence so far as was possible," Wrayson
said slowly. "I am going to ask you a question now."
"I cannot promise to answer it," Duncan declared, taking up his pipe and
carefully refilling it.
"Naturally! But I am going to ask it," Wrayson said. "An hour or so ago I
was talking to the young lady in front of the inn, and you were watching
us. I saw your face at the window as she was driving off."
"Well?"
The monosyllable was hard and dry.
"You are neither an inquisitive nor an emotional person," Wrayson said.
"I am sure of that. I want an explanation."
"Of what?"
"Of your suddenly becoming both!"
Duncan had lit his pipe now, and smoked for a few moments furiously.
