jack had not waited to ask any idle questions; he had felt quite sure from seymour's manner that the latter had some great scheme in hand. it was very pleasant and exhilarating to feel that a man of seymour's wonderful fertility and courage should be enlisted on his side. masefield was not without hope that the discoveries of the night were not yet complete. he strolled away in the direction of the great metropolitan, turning these things over in his mind.
it seemed to him that the clerk in the office of the mammoth hotel regarded him somewhat suspiciously, seeing that he had arrived without luggage of any kind; but a deposit of a sovereign soon set that matter right. it occurred to jack as a good idea to secure a bedroom as nearly as possible next to that of carrington. the hotel was not particularly busy, he discovered, for nobody had come in enquiring for bedroom accommodation during the last hour. this was a discovery in itself, for it testified to the fact that carrington had not yet arrived.
it was nearly an hour before he came, and then he appeared in a desperate hurry. discreetly jack remained in the background, but he was close enough to hear carrington arguing and protesting that he must have a certain room. the matter seemed to be settled amicably at length, and carrington took his key and departed. jack strolled across to the office again. he had decided on a bold policy.
"i am going to ask you to give me another room," he said. "i want to be as near as possible to the gentleman who has just gone up-stairs. i think if you do as i ask you it may save the hotel trouble. what was the number of his room?"
the clerk was friendly enough, and inclined to talk. was it a police matter? he asked. jack responded gravely that he was not in a position to say too much, but his mysterious manner had the desired effect, and the exchange was made.
"i haven't put you exactly next to that gentleman," the clerk explained. "you see our bedrooms are on a sort of cubical system--corridors down both sides, and the bedrooms back to back, if i may so express it--with a ventilating grating between them for the sake of air. that gentleman's bedroom is 28; therefore your room, exactly behind it, is no. 14. i hope i have made myself plain."
jack replied that the thing was perfectly clear. indeed, the system was in considerable vogue on the continent. he lingered a little longer in the big lounge hall, where he smoked a cigarette or two, so as to give carrington time to get to bed. it occurred to jack, in an idle kind of way, that perhaps carrington was deceiving anstruther, or why had he not come straight to the hotel? instead of that, he had evidently gone off somewhere in a desperate hurry, and had returned at length to the hotel looking very exhausted and agitated. jack pondered this matter in his mind as he went up to his own room.
it was a comfortable enough bedroom, for the great metropolitan was noted for the luxury of its appointments; indeed, the room was fit for anybody. the lighting was exceedingly efficient; even over the bed was a pendant, evidently intended for those who cared to read after they retired to rest. jack smiled as he noted the elaborate dressing-table and wash-hand-stand, to say nothing of a huge winged wardrobe, which was almost as big as a bedroom itself. behind this wardrobe, fairly close to the ceiling, was the open grating which formed a ventilating shaft between the one room and the other one behind it.
jack carefully closed the door, and with the aid of a chair managed to climb to the top of the wardrobe. he found that the grating was constructed on the swivel principle, very like a big cheval glass, so that by tilting it slightly it was just possible to see into the next room.
in the room aforesaid the lights had not yet been turned down, so that evidently carrington had not gone to bed. the watcher could hear him impatiently pacing the room and muttering to himself from time to time. the muttering was exceedingly incoherent, but from the gist of it jack seemed to make out that carrington was expecting somebody. on the far side of the room was a wardrobe very much like the one upon which jack was perched, except that it had large plate-glass doors which reflected practically everything that was taking place inside the room.
jack could see carrington now, lounging in a comfortable armchair and impatiently turning over a great mass of papers which lay on a table before him. on the table also was a box of cigars, flanked by two glasses and the necessary ingredients for the manufacture of whiskey and soda. there could be no longer any doubt about it: carrington was expecting a friend. so far as the watcher could see, there was no hurry. he was quite prepared to sit up all night if necessary, and had no feelings of delicacy in listening to what the two scoundrels were going to say--provided always that the expected visitor was a scoundrel, of which jack had very little doubt.
as he stood there, his whole mind strained to attention, it seemed to him that he could hear the sound of music somewhere. to his trained ear there was something familiar in the method of the player. jack wondered where he had heard that finished execution before. then it suddenly flashed upon him.
"how stupid," he muttered to himself. "i had quite forgotten that padini was here. that is padini, without a shadow of a doubt, carrying out the programme that anstruther made out for him."
the music was not far off; it seemed to jack that he could almost hear the scraping of the bow. it was not lost upon him, however, that the whole of the pieces were chopin's compositions. the music ceased presently with a sudden twang, much as if the e string had violently parted. a moment later, by the aid of the friendly mirror, jack saw carrington's door open, and the figure of padini come in. carrington glared at the intruder.
"what do you mean by keeping me waiting all this time?" he growled. "didn't you get my telephone message?"
"and hadn't i got my work to do?" padini retorted. "i dare say you consider yourself to be an exceedingly clever fellow, but once you elect to match your wits with anstruther, you will find yourself a lost man. it is no use you being in a hurry; as a matter of fact, i should have kept you a full hour longer, only i have broken my e string, and i don't happen to have another one on the premises."
with an angry gesture padini threw his violin on the table. in a mechanical sort of way carrington looked at the severed string. he was always a suspicious man, for it was an axiom of his never to trust anybody, and he was wondering now if this were not part of some dodge being worked out by his visitor. his face grew a little anxious as he held one end of the broken string between his thumb and finger.
"i suppose you call this a simple fracture," he said. "string worn out, and all that kind of thing. if you will look at it carefully, you will see that it has been half cut; you can actually see how far the knife has gone."
padini examined the string carefully. his face also had grown a little gray and anxious.
"it is exactly as you say, my friend," he exclaimed. "but i wonder how that was done, and why. it is not as if i left my violin about--one is not so careless with a genuine amati like mine. i brought the fiddle back with me from my afternoon recital, and i am prepared to swear that there was nothing the matter with it then. i locked it up in my box, and there it stayed till a couple of hours ago. now what does this mean? does anybody suspect us? has anstruther's clever scheme come to the knowledge of anybody? the police, perhaps, might have discovered----"
"the police have nothing whatever to do with that," carrington said angrily. "what have any of us done to bring ourselves within the reach of the law--at present? the man that we have most to fear is seymour. how you came to let him slip through your fingers the other night is an absolute mystery to me."
padini shrugged his shoulders, and something like an oath escaped him. by aid of the friendly mirror jack obtained a perfect view of his face. it was white and sinister; the dark eyes gleamed like living coals.
"but seymour must be dead," the violinist said hoarsely. "we know he is dead; did we not read it in the papers? it may be that some friends stole his body for purposes of their own, but dead he is. if i thought he was still alive, i should have to leave london; i dare not stay here with a horror like that hanging over me."
"you are absolutely wrong," carrington cried. "seymour is still alive; he is still in london, thirsting for vengeance. he is rich, he has the courage of a lion, and the mind of a machiavelli. you smile, my friend, but it is the smile of a thoroughly frightened man. seymour is after you; he is after me. look at this. don't say you fail to recognize it."
"it is his tobacco pouch," padini faltered.
"yes; i thought you would recognize it. and where do you suppose i found that to-night? in my own room, lying on the floor. do you want any greater proof than that, that seymour was working in my own rooms to-night?"
padini nodded moodily. jack noticed how his hand trembled as he helped himself to the whiskey and soda. "i am sick of this," he muttered. "i mean to get out of it--i am as anxious as you are to get outside anstruther's influence. that is why i am here to-night. i am going to tell you my plan--call it murderous and treacherous if you like--which is the only way of settling anstruther's claims upon us. if you have any pluck at all--if there is anything of the man about you----"
"no, no," carrington faltered. "i tell you i dare not."
as the speaker broke off, jack was conscious of something like an altercation outside his door. the night porter was protesting that something or other was not his fault; the other man's voice was equally sure that it was. it did not require much intelligence to discover that the newcomer wanted that particular room. with a thrill jack recognized the voice of anstruther. in an instant he had made up his mind what to do. like a flash he came down from the top of the wardrobe, switched on the light over the bed, and proceeded softly to unlock the door. there was a knock on the panel at the same moment. jack glanced hastily round, and bundled one or two of his belongings into the wing of the wardrobe. he had barely time to conceal himself there, before the handle of the door turned and anstruther entered.
"you can see it is exactly as i said," the latter remarked. "i engaged this room an hour ago. it is quite evident that no other guest has taken this apartment. if he were here, surely there would be a portmanteau, or a dressing-case, or something of that kind. take this half-sovereign, and say no more about it. if there is any fuss i will take the blame."
the man departed; the door was locked behind him, and a moment later jack could feel the heavy form of anstruther climbing to the top of the wardrobe.
