wilfrid was free for the present. the words kept rising to his mind as he made his way back to maldon grange. he could turn his attention now to the mystery which surrounded that strange household. he wondered what had become of uzali and russell and why he had not heard from either of them. he did not suppose that they had been idle in london. he would not have been surprised had either turned up. his chief concern was with beatrice. it was good to know that she was likely to have a cheerful home over her head for a few days longer. it was like an intervention of providence that he had happened upon those scraps of paper in the wood. and what was going to be the next act in the drama? events had been proceeding fast lately. the situation was full of darkness and terror, but the real tragedy was as vague and intangible as ever. two attempts had been made on the life of samuel flower without the slightest clue to the miscreants, and in his heart of hearts wilfrid did not believe that further attack would be abandoned.
was it wise, he wondered, for flower to return to maldon grange? surely, the ship-owner would have been safer in london than in that vast and solitary mansion. those mysterious men were likely to come back at any moment, and perhaps the third time would recoup them for all their trouble.
wilfrid was still turning these things over in his mind as he crossed the fields towards the grange. the spot was lonely, for few people went that way, and wilfrid gave a side glance of curiosity as he passed a stranger who was carrying a small gladstone bag in his hand. the stranger was short and enormously stout, and his eyes twinkled behind large silver-rimmed spectacles. he was evidently a foreigner, an impression which was confirmed when the stranger took off his hat with a flourish.
"you will pardon me," he said, "but i am afraid that i have lost my way. can you direct me to maldon grange?"
"i am going that way," wilfrid explained. "as a matter of fact, that is my destination. if you have any business there——"
"not at all," the stranger hastened to say. "maldon grange is only the landmark which they gave me in the village. i am going to a farmhouse a little way beyond to look at a picture for a client of mine. that is my occupation—an expert in oil-paintings. perhaps you know the name of the farm. it is called 'giletto'——"
"there is such a place," wilfrid said. "i know where you want to go. from the field in front of maldon grange one can see the house. you had better come with me."
but the self-possessed stranger evinced all at once a desire for his own society. he had been loquacious at first, but now he touched the brim of his hat and hung behind as if he held himself unworthy of his temporary companion. there was something about his looks which by no means prejudiced wilfrid in his favour, and he was full enough of suspicions now. the events of the past two or three days had taught him to regard even the passing shadow as possibly sinister.
"oh, but you must not lose your way again," he said. "come with me and i will see that you take the right path. i suppose you are a stranger."
"i have never been here before," the fat man said with unnecessary energy. "this part of the country is unknown to me. so that is maldon grange? i recognize the dormer window which——"
the stranger paused and muttered something in confusion. then he immediately proceeded to descant on the beauty of the landscape. there was nothing about the man to suggest criminal intent, but wilfrid disliked him more and more. beyond all doubt he was no stranger in this quarter. as wilfrid turned down one field-path to another, the man turned with him without hesitation and by the time they had emerged into the fields in front of maldon grange, mercer was satisfied that the stranger knew his way about better than he did himself.
"i am going to stop here," he said. "if you will follow that laurel track you will come to a gate leading to the road, and a few hundred yards farther down is the farm you speak of."
the stranger was profuse in his thanks. once more he raised his hat with a flourish and went rapidly down the laurel path. after a moment's hesitation wilfrid turned on his heel and followed. he knew the path twisted and wound along the edge of the plantation. he had only to make a detour and then, by looking through the bushes, he could see what the stranger was after. cautiously making his way along, by and by he peeped through the bushes and saw the stranger nearly opposite him with a broad smile on his face and a look of amusement in his eyes. face to face with the intruder was cotter. the latter's features had acquired a dull green hue and his jaw dropped. he was a picture of abject terror.
"ah, so you had not expected me," the stranger said. "you thought you were done with me. that was a mistake. when dr. jansen makes up his mind to a thing he is not easily discouraged. i have been waiting years for the right time and it has come at last. but you need not be afraid. come, what have you to fear? believe me, yonder ship is sinking. oh, it is a magnificent vessel, and the owner is a fortunate man, but she will founder all the same. it may go down this very night. come, friend cotter, am i not speaking the truth?"
the last few words came with a muttered ferocity which contrasted grimly with jansen's previously jocular humour. cotter made no reply. he stood rubbing his hands together as if the palms were wet and he could find no way to dry them.
"it may be now," jansen went on. "it may have happened for all you know to the contrary since you left the house. a clever man like you makes few blunders. the only mistake you have ever made was to think you could escape the vengeance and had seen the last of me. and what have i come for, friend cotter? i have come to see the end and you know it as well as i do."
"what are you talking about?" cotter stammered.
"oh, you know—perfectly well," jansen sneered. "take my advice. leave the sinking ship and throw in your lot with me. but make no error; keep nothing from me, for i know everything. strange that with your knowledge of the world you should cling to samuel flower when his life is not worth an hour's purchase. think it over, my good cotter. i am not coming to maldon grange but i will not be far away. i find the country good for my health and have rooms at that farmhouse down the road. it may be that i shall do nothing for a fortnight. it may be that i shall strike at once. it is for you to say whether you will be on the winning side or not. but i waste my time with you. why should i worry over a creature like you? you are not worth it."
jansen turned away with a contemptuous gesture and picked up his portmanteau. without another word he trudged sturdily along the path until he was lost to sight. cotter watched him till the stout figure disappeared. then he took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face.
"good lord!" he muttered. "fancy seeing him again! and i thought—goodness knows what i thought. this is no place for me. i'll get away while i can."
wilfrid stole back to the path and walked towards the house. he had plenty of food for thought and the more he gave his mind to the strange affair the more bewildered he became. one thing was clear. he could not see this plot through to a finish single-handed. he must get into touch with uzali and russell. he must induce them to come down and investigate matters on the spot. for the present, however, he would keep his discovery to himself. he would not alarm beatrice.
the house was perfectly peaceful. there was silence in the sick-room. the nurse was of opinion that his patient was progressing favourably. dr. shelton had called in wilfrid's absence and had left, not displeased with the case. wilfrid could but wait and hope for the best. it was a consolation to know that beatrice was there and that no one could come between them and their friendship. beatrice listened gravely to the result of wilfrid's interview with vardon.
"do you think you have acted for the best?" she said. "i am sorry i misjudged you, wilfrid. i might have known you would do the right thing in any case."
