I was not summoned to Sir Eustace’s presence until late in the afternoon. Eleven-o’clock tea and a substantial lunch had been served to me in my own apartment, and I felt fortified for further conflict. Sir Eustace was alone. He was walking up and down the room, and there was a gleam in his eye and a restlessness in his manner which did not escape me. He was exultant about something. There was a subtle change in his manner towards me.
“I have news for you. Your young man is on his way. He will be here in a few minutes. Moderate your transports—I have something more to say. You attempted to deceive me this morning. I warned you that you would be wise to stick to the truth, and up to a certain point you obeyed me. Then you ran off the rails. You attempted to make me believe that the diamonds were in Harry Rayburn’s possession. At the time, I accepted your statement because it facilitated my task—the task of inducing you to decoy Harry Rayburn here. But, my dear Anne, the diamonds have been in my possession ever since I left the Falls—though I only discovered the fact yesterday.”
“You know!” I gasped.
“It may interest you to hear that it was Pagett who gave the show away. He insisted on boring me with a long pointless story about a wager and a tin of films. It didn’t take me long to put two and two together—Mrs. Blair’s distrust of Colonel Race, her agitation, her entreaty that I would take care of her souvenirs for her. The excellent Pagett had already unfastened the cases through an excess of zeal. Before leaving the hotel, I simply transferred all the rolls of films to my own pocket. They are in the corner there. I admit that I haven’t had time to examine them yet, but I notice that one is of a totally different weight to the others, rattles in a peculiar fashion, and has evidently been stuck down with seccotine, which will necessitate the use of a tin-opener. The case seems clear, does it not? And now, you see, I have you both nicely in the trap. . . . It’s a pity that you didn’t take kindly to the idea of becoming Lady Pedler.”
I did not answer. I stood looking at him.
There was the sound of feet on the stairs, the door was flung open, and Harry Rayburn was hustled into the room between two men. Sir Eustace flung me a look of triumph.
“According to plan,” he said softly. “You amateurs will pit yourselves against professionals.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” cried Harry hoarsely.
“It means that you have walked into my parlour—said the spider to the fly,” remarked Sir Eustace facetiously. “My dear Rayburn, you are extraordinarily unlucky.”
“You said I could come safely, Anne?”
“Do not reproach her, my dear fellow. That note was written at my dictation, and the lady could not help herself. She would have been wiser not to write it, but I did not tell her so at the time. You followed her instructions, went to the curio-shop, were taken through the secret passage from the back room—and found yourself in the hands of your enemies!”
Harry looked at me. I understood his glance and edged nearer to Sir Eustace.
“Yes,” murmured the latter, “decidedly you are not lucky! This is—let me see, the third encounter.”
“You are right,” said Harry. “This is the third encounter. Twice you have worsted me—have you never heard that the third time the luck changes? This is my round—cover him, Anne.”
I was all ready. In a flash I had whipped the pistol out of my stocking and was holding it to his head. The two men guarding Harry sprang forward, but his voice stopped them.
“Another step—and he dies! If they come any nearer, Anne, pull the trigger—don’t hesitate.”
“I shan’t,” I replied cheerfully. “I’m rather afraid of pulling it, anyway.”
I think Sir Eustace shared my fears. He was certainly shaking like a jelly.
“Stay where you are,” he commanded, and the men stopped obediently.
“Tell them to leave the room,” said Harry.
Sir Eustace gave the order. The men filed out, and Harry shot the bolt across the door behind them.
“Now we can talk,” he observed grimly, and coming across the room, he took the revolver out of my hand.
Sir Eustace uttered a sigh of relief and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
“I’m shockingly out of condition,” he observed. “I think I must have a weak heart. I am glad that revolver is in competent hands. I didn’t trust Miss Anne with it. Well, my young friend, as you say, now we can talk. I’m willing to admit that you stole a march upon me. Where the devil that revolver came from I don’t know. I had the girl’s luggage searched when she arrived. And where did you produce it from now? You hadn’t got it on you a minute ago?”
“Yes, I had,” I replied. “It was in my stocking.”
“I don’t know enough about women. I ought to have studied them more,” said Sir Eustace sadly. “I wonder if Pagett would have known that?”
Harry rapped sharply on the table.
“Don’t play the fool. If it weren’t for your grey hairs, I’d throw you out of the window. You damned scoundrel! Grey hairs, or no grey hairs, I——”
He advanced a step or two, and Sir Eustace skipped nimbly behind the table.
“The young are always so violent,” he said reproachfully. “Unable to use their brains, they rely solely on their muscles. Let us talk sense. For the moment you have the upper hand. But that state of affairs cannot continue. The house is full of my men. You are hopelessly outnumbered. Your momentary ascendency has been gained by an accident——”
“Has it?”
Something in Harry’s voice, a grim raillery, seemed to attract Sir Eustace’s attention. He stared at him.
“Has it?” said Harry again. “Sit down, Sir Eustace, and listen to what I have to say.” Still covering him with the revolver, he went on: “The cards are against you this time. To begin with, listen to that!”
That was a dull banging at the door below. Ther............