THE HOUS ON .i^-^s THE MAL PH il'i ill I EDGARJEPSO _ DlCGO THE HOUSE ON THE MALL BY EDGAR JEPSON Author of "The Admirable Tinker," "Lady Noggs, Princess," "Arsene Lupin," etc. G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK COPYRIGHT. 1911, BY G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY The House on the Mall CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE MARQUESS OF DRYSDALE MAKES A DISCOVERY 5 II. THE THREE DRUNKEN MEN AND THE THREE GRAYBEARDS 14 III. THE AMBITIONS OF THE MARQUESS . 26 IV. A DIVISION OF SPOILS 34 V. AT RAWNSLEY'S EMPORIUM ... 49 VI. MONTAGUE BURGE SPOILS His OWN GAME 57 VII. MR. SHORE- WARDELL SPENDS A BUSY DAY 69 VIII. THE SOLEMNITY OF THE MARQUESS . 79 IX. THE MURDER ON THE MALL ... 88 X. INSPECTOR GIFFEN GETS A SHOCK . 98 XI. ANDREW RAWNSLEY KEEPS WATCH AND INSPECTOR GIFFEN MAKES IN- QUIRIES 109 XII. ANDREW RAWNSLEY is FIRM . . . 120 XIII. PAUL MAULEVERER TAKES UP THE IN- QUIRY 128 XIV. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT 140 XV. RUPERT DRAYTON MAKES A FRIEND 147 XVI. RUPERT MEETS THE MARQUESS . . 156 XVII. RUPERT is CHECKED 166 XVIII. MONTAGUE BURGE SEEKS AN INTER- VIEW WITH THE CHIEF .... 174 3 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XIX. RUPERT MEETS NANCY .... 185 XX. THE TROUBLES OF INSPECTOR GIFFEN 196 XXI. THE WOOING OF NANCY .... 205 XXII. INSPECTOR GIFFEN EXPLORES THE HOUSE ON THE MALL . . . .215 XXIII. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF INSPECTOR GIFFEN 224 XXIV. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF MONTAGUE BURGE 231 XXV. A DISCUSSION 243 XXVI. CRINKLY BILLSON LEARNS THE SE- CRET OF THE CIRCULAR CELLAR . 247 XXVII. RUPERT PROPOSES 261 XXVIII. ANDREW RAWNSLEY TALKS TO INSPEC- TOR GIFFEN 268 XXIX. MR. SHORE- WARDELL GOES DOWN THE THAMES 280 XXX. COLONEL WEBLING ACTS PRECIPI- TATELY 287 XXXI. INSPECTOR GIFFEN LEAVES THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 291 XXXII. THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN EUROPE . . . ... ; .. ... . . 300 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL CHAPTER I THE MARQUESS OF DRYSDALE MAKES A DISCOVERY THE young man with the exceeding solemn face who stood on the steps of the house on the Mall was Francis Hugh Wentworth Penderel, Seventh Marquess of Drysdale. He paused to gaze up and down the river, beautiful and inviting in the sunlight, and congratulated himself on his foresight in having come out without an over- coat on the twentieth of April. Indeed after six hours bright sunshine the spring afternoon was al- most hot. He stood for perhaps two minutes admiring the sun on the river and the faint shade of the green of spring on the meadows on the further bank, with a softness and wistfulness in his fine brown eyes, somewhat out of keeping with his exceeding solemn face. Then he pressed the bell and knocked. The door was opened by a pretty parlor-maid. 5 6 THE HOUSE ON THH MALL She smiled at the sight of him and said, "Mr. Rawnsley's out, my lord, and so is Mr. Mauleverer." "I'll come in and wait till one of them comes home, Annie," said the Marquess, entering the hall ; and with a sudden expression of extraordinary gloom he chucked her under the chin. Annie giggled and withdrew swiftly from the young nobleman's reach. The hall was lofty but not large; indeed it was not large enough to give full value to the fine Italian staircase imported from some palace by an eigh- teenth-century owner of the house. At the top of the first flight of stairs was a niche in the wall ; and from the bottom of the niche rose a broad pedestal some six inches high on which a statue should have stood. But no statue stood on it ; and there was a curious insistence about that empty niche ; it seemed so to demand to be filled that its emptiness made not only the staircase but the whole hall look incom- plete. The Marquess gave Annie his hat and cane, and said, "I think I'll wait in the library." He walked across the hall, along the corridor at the back of it, and into a room on the left-hand side at the end of the corridor. It was a lofty room lined with bookshelves on all its sides to a height of four feet from the ground. On the top of the bookshelves stood some fine bronzes and pieces of porcelain, European and Oriental, between pictures. THE HOUSE ON THB MALL 7 The Marquess gazed round the beautiful room with the carelessness of familiarity ; then a new pic- ture on the wall caught his eye ; and he crossed the room to it. As he looked at it his eyes opened wide and he whistled softly. Lately there had been para- graphs in the papers about the disappearance of the famous Botticelli from Galatina and the great an- noyance of the Italian authorities that it should have been smuggled out of the country. The Marquess gazed, frowning but admiring, at the picture, and the longer he gazed the surer he grew that if it were not the Galatina Botticelli itself, it was that much less probable thing, an exceedingly fine con- temporary copy of it. He gazed his fill and came to the window. He looked down into the garden; and his eyes opened wide again ; on the lawn, in the warm sun, sat a girl reading. The sunbeams playing in her soft brown hair filled it with gleams of gold. Her rounded cheeks were delightful with the hue of wild roses. Her nose was straight; and the Mar- quess could see plainly the delicate curve of the nos- tril. Her lips were sensitive, a little full, and curved in the fashion of Cupid's bow. The Marquess thought that he had never seen lips which so in- vited kisses. Her chin was betwixt round and square, with an enchanting dimple in it. Her fore- head was broad, her brows level ; but the Marquess could not see the eyes under them. They never 8 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL stirred from the book; and her lips were a little parted as if she found it thrilling. The Marquess was not unduly sensible to the charms of women. But this was the face of a dream ; and he stood gazing at it with a warm ad- miration. Then he began to desire to see what color were her eyes. He was about to make a noise to make her look up, when the empty garden chair beside her suggested to him that he would see those eyes much better were he nearer to them. He drew quietly back from the window, came quietly out of the room, and even more quietly through the glass door, down the moss-grown steps, and on to the lawn ten feet away from her. Then she started, raised her head, and gazed at him with the most glorious dark-blue eyes he had ever seen. The heart of the Marquess leapt in his bosom ; but he gazed at her with an ineffable solemnity, bowed, and said, "Please don't let me disturb you; but I'm waiting for Mr. Rawnsley; and the garden seemed the proper place to wait in on a glorious afternoon like this." And he smiled at her. The Marquess did not often smile, but when he did his smile was uncommonly winning. It illu- mined his solemn, stern face in a fashion which many women found fascinating. Some of them had made no secret to him of its fascination. The girl hestitated; and the hue of wild roses deepened in her cheeks. His smile and the solem- THE HOUSE ON THE MALL g nity into which it faded seemed to reassure her; and in a low, well-modulated, delightful voice she said, ''Yes, it is an afternoon for out-of- doors." The Marquess looked at her with solemn eyes ; and her eyes fell before them. She found them master- ful. Then he said : "Well, as there's no one to in- troduce us, I had better introduce myself. I am the Marquess of Drysdale." The girl hesitated. The solemn eyes of the Mar- quess rested on her face, grave and inquiring. She found a compulsion in them; and she said in reluc- tant obedience to it, "I am Nancy Weston, Mr. Rawnsley's secretary." "Ah," said the Marquess, sitting down in the empty chair with a faint sight of relief, "I was hop- ing you had a name like that." He crossed his legs and gazed solemnly round the garden. She was a little taken aback; but his solemnity was disarming. With a quick glance she took in his profile, the rather high forehead, the strong, arched nose, the firm, full lips, and the strong, square chin. His skin was rather pale but clear; and there was a ripple in his dark-brown, almost black, hair. "I think that this is one of the oddest gardens in London," he said. "This turf must be at least three hundred years old; and these cedars of Le- banon are not much younger than the Crusades ; and io THE HOUSE ON THE MALL then you have that abominable modern building towering above it all." He nodded towards the bottom of the garden, where, above the row of tall, dense sycamores, rose for thirty feet the top of the wall of Rawnsley's Emporium. "It's a blessing that there are no windows in it. Mr. Rawnsley had the sense not to let anyone over- look his garden," he said. "Yes, that would have been a pity," said Nancy. This impersonal talk about the garden was set- ting her at her ease. Besides, she did not know the proper method of dealing with marquesses who coolly introduced themselves to you, especially when they were so very solemn. Marquesses are not as other men. They both looked round the garden, appraising it. On their right was a thirty-foot, ivy-covered wall. It shut out the houses of the Malkin Lane, which runs along the side of the garden from the Mall to the High Road. On their left a thick shrub- bery of tall Wellingtonias and deodoras shut them in with a wall of a richer green. "When it's peaceful like this one might be thirty miles out of London," said the Marquess. "But often the hum from the power-house behind those Wellingtonias spoils it." "It's very curious but I never hear the hum now," said Nancy. "You see I live in the power-house." THE HOUSE ON THE MALL n "You live in the power-house?" said the Mar- quess. "Yes, my uncle is the engineer of it," said Nancy. "Why the vibration must make it like living on a steamer. But perhaps you're a good sailor," said the Marquess. "I'm quite used to it now. I don't notice it. But when I first came from the country it was like liv- ing on a steamer." "Ah, you came from the country proper place for you," said the Marquess; and his eyes rested, quiet and admiring, on her beautiful face. "Yes, I lived all my life at Alington, till six months ago," said Nancy ; and she sighed. "And now you live in a power-house and act as Mr. Rawnsley's secretary. Don't you hate it?" "No, I don't hate it exactly; but I like the coun- try better," said Nancy thoughtfully. "But then my aunt died ; and I came to live with my uncle. I don't like work much ; but then I have to work." "You shouldn't like it at all," said the Marquess firmly. "It's so unintelligent to like work unless it's work you want to do ; and then of course it's a game." "Yes, if it had been gardening it would have been quite another thing," said Nancy quickly. "But there are things in London which make up for not being in the country friends, theatres, pic- 12 THE HOUSE ON THB MALL ture galleries," said the Marquess; and his eyes grew keen and questioning. Nancy shook her head: "I haven't any friends yet not real friends; and I don't often go to the theatre. My uncle doesn't care for things like that. You see he's an inventor as well as an engineer; and he's always working." The Marquess looked faintly relieved; and his eyes grew careless again : "It must be very dull for you," he said. "Oh, no ; I have lots of books to read. My uncle subscribes to Boots' Library for me." "They're not like life," said the Marquess. "They're all I've got," said Nancy. He talked to her about books she had read and books she liked, and told her of other books she would like. He learned from her the hours she worked, the hours at which she went to the Em- porium and came away from it, slipping in his ques- tions with careless deftness in the middle of their talk about books. All the while he watched her face changing from beauty to beauty as it changed from expression to expression. Her simplicity charmed him ; it even touched him a little. He could not understand how such a beautiful creature had contrived to remain so simple. This was indeed a flower to find in this Old World garden ; he was in- terested, a little excited. THB HOUSE ON THE MALL 13 They had grown almost intimate when a voice above them said, "How are you, Drysdale ?" They looked up startled ; and framed in the win- dow of the library they saw the leonine, benevolent head of Mr. Rawnsley. The Marquess rose reluctantly, bent down, shook hands with Nancy, and said, "It was awfully good of you to let me inflict myself on you like this. We shall meet again soon. Good-bye." "Good-bye," said Nancy, flushing in a sudden shyness as she realized how intimate she had grown with an utter stranger. The Marquess walked up into the library; and Mr. Rawnsley greeted him with a somewhat mock- ing smile. "I see that it's you who have collared the Gala- tina Botticelli," said the Marquess, promptly taking the offensive. "Yes : things do come my way," said Mr. Rawns- ley, carelessly. "You seemed to be getting on very well with Miss Weston." "Yes. Who is Miss Weston?" said the Mar- quess. "I think you had better let her alone," said Mr. Rawnsley. "I always let them alone," said the Marquess very solemnly. CHAPTER II THE THREE DRUNKEN MEN AND THE THREE GREY- BEARDS THE clocks of Knightsbridge had just struck one of the morning of the 2ist of April when Mr. Ramsay, a Londoner of the shab- biest and most uncleanly appearance, shambled across the road from the pavement which runs un- der the wall of the Knightsbridge Barracks and took his way into Rutland Gate. He had been shivering peacefully, for his coat and trousers were thin and ventilated by openings in unusual places, in the shelter of the wall of the barracks for half an hour, ever since the closing of the bars, in fact; but a few yards down Rutland Gate he began to behave in a far from peaceful way. He shouted and yelled and roared and screamed in a manner which might have excited but little notice in the Commercial Road, Whitechapel, but which was highly improper in the select and expensive quarter which now echoed and re-echoed to his voice. At the same moment Mr. Robert Turner came from Ennismore Gardens into the bottom of Rutland Gate and was even 14 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 15 more loudly guilty of the same improper behavior. A minute later Mr. William Preece came into Rut- land Gate from Montpelier Square and at once grew vocal with the same vehemence. From their ap- pearance and dress Mr. Robert Turner and Mr. William Preece might have been brothers of Mr. Hector Ramsay and of one another. As a matter of fact, there was no tie of blood between any of these three; the likeness between them probably arose from the fact that they all followed the same occupation, that of propping up the walls of saloons in the intervals of acting as cab-touts. Police constable 191 was hurrying up Rutland Gate towards Mr. Hector Ramsay, with the inten- tion of ridding a quiet neighborhood of a vocifer- ous intruder with the least possible delay, when he heard Mr. Robert Turner raise his untuneful roar at the bottom. He did not stay his steps, however; he seized Mr. Hector Ramsay and hurried him up into the Knightsbridge road. As they reached it, Mr. Hector Ramsay put his foot in front of police constable 191 and they came to the ground to- gether. Police constable 191 rose and hesitated; then his ears assured him that Rutland Gate was silent, and he resolved to take Mr. Hector Ramsay to the police station. Silence reigned in Rutland Gate because, after one loud burst of yelling, Mr. Robert Turner had turned on his heel and gone back into Ennismore 16 THB HOUSE ON THB MALL Gardens where he yelled on; and at the same time Mr. William Preece also had turned and was now roaring in Montpelier Square. In three minutes Mr. Robert Turner had fallen into the strong hands of police constable 327, who hustled him down into the Brompton Road. At about the same moment Mr. William Preece was culled in Montpelier Square by police constable 498 and also hurried down into the Brompton Road. It was in the main thoroughfares that the cap- tives became restive. Mr. Hector Ramsay every twenty yards flung himself down on the ground weeping, so that police constable 191 had to enlist the services of the policeman on duty at the corner of the Knightsbridge and Brompton Roads to help get him to the police station. Mr. Robert Turner went like a silent lamb as far as the Brompton Road : then by a sudden jerk he broke away from his cap- tor and raced him to the Oratory. There he was re- captured. Mr. William Preece, who prided himself on being a fighting Imperialist, was in the end frog- marched to the police station by four policemen, two of them black-eyed. By the time the charges had been taken and the three prisoners safely deposited in their cells, it was a quarter to two. From five minutes past one till a quarter to two therefore Rutland Gate was uncom- monly bare of policemen. Those of the dwellers in it who had retired to THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 17 bed at a reasonable hour had no occasion to observe this fact ; Lady Aldington had. She had been sup- ping after some auction bridge at the house of Lord Trouton in Park Lane. When she got into her motor brougham she was annoyed to perceive that Henry Timbs, the footman who was wont to sit be- side her chauffeur, was not in his place. Near the Albert Gate she stopped the brougham to learn the reason of his absence. The chauffeur told her that on his return from taking her to Lord Trouton's Henry Timbs had gone out, just for an hour or two, but had not returned by the time the brougham must start to bring her home. Lady Aldington was so absorbed in the consideration whether to dis- charge Henry Timbs for his unpunctuality, or mere- ly reprimand him severely, that she failed to notice Mr. Hector Ramsay lying in tears on the pavement in the middle of a group composed of one aggravat- ed policeman and seven sympathetic spectators who were adjuring the aggravated policeman not to be brutal with the poor man. The chauffeur passed the group with a cynical smile; he was a man of the world. Lady Aldington had decided to discharge Henry Timbs when the brougham stopped at Lord Aldington's house in Rutland Gate. She was about to open the door of the brougham and let herself into the house; for, of course, it was not the work of the chauffeur to ring the bell for her, and he was sitting still in his seat, when a i8 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL grey-bearded cab-tout opened the door for her. She stepped out of it ; and on the instant the tout threw his right arm round her arms and body, gripped her throat with his left, and half dragging, half carry- ing her, stepped into the brougham with her. She could neither resist nor scream. At the same mo- ment a much bigger man, of the same tout-like ap- pearance and also grey-bearded, who had stolen up on the other side of the brougham, seized the chauf- feur by the throat, with both hands, from behind, lugged him from his seat, and dragged him into the brougham by the other door. As the chauffeur was dragged from his seat, a grey-bearded man in the dress of a coachman stepped into it from the pave- ment, and at a cry of "Right !" from one of the new occupants of the brougham, started it up Rutland Gate. As the brougham started, her captor, still keep- ing his left hand on Lady Aldington's throat, thrust a gag into her mouth, bound her hands and feet with pieces of rope of a convenient size which he took from the pocket of his jacket, and then blind- folded her. He bound her hands and feet tightly, letting no sentimental considerations of her sex or her comfort interfere with her security. Then he dropped her back, as helpless as a trussed fowl, in her seat, and turned his attention to the chauffeur, who was rather more than half throttled by the grip of his big companion. He gagged, bound and blind- THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 19 folded him with a celerity which could only have come from considerable practice in the art of truss- ing up his fellow creatures. Then he lifted Lady Aldington on to the front seat beside the chauffeur ; and his big companion moved over to his side. Finally he took a cigar-case from his pocket, offered a cigar to that big companion, lighted one himself; and the pair of them sat back, smoking comfortably. Not a word had been spoken. By that time the brougham was running into Kilburn. They sat still in the same silence for nearly half an hour ; and the brougham was in the open country beyond Harrow. Then the kidnapper took an elec- tric lamp from his pocket, switched it on, and pro- ceeded to strip off Lady Aldington's jewels, her necklace, tiara, and ear-rings in which were set the famous Aldington emeralds, her bracelets and her rings. In three minutes he had transferred thir- ty thousand pounds worth of jewels from her per- son to a wash-leather bag. He put it in his pocket, lighted another cigar, and leaned back in his seat with a faint sigh of satisfaction. Five and thirty minutes later, though it seemed more like two hours to the terrified chauffeur and his mistress, the brougham turned off the road, ran along turf for perhaps a hundred yards, and stopped. The big kidnapper got out of it, the other lifted Lady Aldington and the chauffeur on to the back seat, covered them with a rug, and got out also. 20 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL The brougham was standing in a grove of pine trees ; the grey-bearded man who had driven it had left his seat; and the three of them walked to the road. On the edge of it they waited behind a screen of furze bushes. They had not waited ten minutes before a large motor car, covered with a cape hood, came slowly and noiselessly down the road. They got into it ; it turned and was presently going through the winding lanes as fast as was safe. It came out on to the London road a mile above Watford on the King's Langley side. In very little more than half an hour it ran down the Edgware Road to the Marble Arch. There it turned up Bays- water and ran to Netting Hill. At the corner of Church Street a grey-bearded man of middle height, but of uncommon breadth, got out of it and walked briskly down the High Street towards Holland Park Avenue. As he opened the door of the car, with his back to his confederates, he stripped off his grey beard, and before his foot touched the pave- ment he was a mustachioed man. The car ran down Church Street into Kensington and from there to Piccadilly. At the corner of St. James's Street a grey-bearded man in a top hat and long black overcoat got out of it and went down St. James's Street. As he turned into King Street he stripped off his beard and became clean-shaven. The car ran down to Victoria. It stopped at the corner THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 21 of the Vauxhall Bridge Road; and there the big kidnapper got out of it and walked down towards Vauxhall. He was wearing now a short, pointed black beard, and loud checked suit. The car turned, came back down into Piccadilly, ran through Ken- sington and Hammersmith into the Chiswick High Road, and turned down Malkin Lane on to the Mall. It stopped before the wooden doors beside a big house on the Mall. The driver got down, opened them and then the doors of a motor garage, and ran the car into it. It was a very softly-moving car ; and it is to be doubted that any of the dwellers in the Mall heard it return. At five o'clock in the morning William Gosset, a farm laborer, crossing Chipperfield Common on his way to work, was greatly surprised to see a motor brougham standing among the pine trees a few yards from the path. He went to it, and was even more surprised to see that the two people, sitting so still on the back seat, were blindfolded. After a little hesitation, for quickness was not the prime quality of his wits, he rapped on the glass of the window. The further figure, a man, drew his hands from under the rug which covered the knees of the two figures, and held them out. William Gosset saw that they were bound together. He went round to the other door, opened it, got into the brougham, took the bandage off the man's eyes, and unbound his hands. The man took the gag 22 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL out of his mouth, and rubbing his stiff wrists with his stiff hands, bade William Gosset unbind his feet. As soon as they were unbound, he and William Gos- set freed Lady Aldington from the bandage over her eyes, the gag, and her bonds. Her tongue was stiff, but she contrived to say a good deal, none of it greatly to the point. As he got his limbs limber, the chauffeur questioned William Gosset as to their whereabouts. Then, as soon as he got rid of some of his stiffness, he got out of the brougham and tested his engine. He found it in going order, and he found that there was enough petrol left in the tank to take them to London. He went back to the door of the brougham and suggested to Lady Ald- ington that the London police were best qualified to deal with the matter, and that the sooner it was in their hands the better. She agreed with him. He inquired of William Gosset the nearest way to the London Road, gave him five shillings, and started. At ten minutes past six the brougham reached Lord Aldington's house in Rutland Gate. Lady Aldington found most of the servants awake and her husband in a state of the liveliest alarm. He had long ago roused Lord Trouton and learned that she had left Park Lane at about one o'clock. He had roused others of their friends in Mayfair and learned that she had not stopped at any of their houses on her way home. Then he had rung up Scotland Yard and informed the detectives on duty THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 23 of her disappearance. On hearing of her adven- ture, he at once rang them up again and informed them of the kidnapping and of the theft of the Ald- ington emeralds. At ten minutes to seven Detective Inspector Gif- fen arrived at Rutland Gate and heard the story from the lips of Lady Aldington and the chauffeur. At first, with the catholicity of suspicion which marks the true detective, he was disposed to regard the affair as a put-up job between the lady and the chauffeur, since it was always probable that Lady Aldington, a leader of the polite world, might have got into trouble at bridge or racing and be sorely in need of money. But after he had questioned them separately, displaying far more gentleness in his in- terview with Lady Aldington than in his interview with the chauffeur, he came to the conclusion not only that it was not a put-up job between them, but that neither of them was in any way concerned in the theft save as a victim of the kidnappers. Then he perceived that he had to deal with one of the best-planned and most audacious robberies which had ever been brought to the notice of Scotland Yard. He was inclined to attribute it to American enterprise. He lost no time. He went back to Scotland Yard, drew up a report of the circumstances of the robbery for the consideration of his superiors, when they should arrive at their offices, and soon after 24 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL half-past nine he was on Chipperfield Common, ex- amining the ground before starting on his in- quiries into the means by which the thieves had left the neighborhood. Soon after ten that morning, Mr. Hector Ram- say and Mr. Robert Turner were fined five shillings, with an option of going to prison for seven days, for having been drunk and disorderly the night be- fore. Mr. William Preece was fined twenty shill- ings, with the option of going to prison for a month, for having also resisted the police in the execution of their duty. In spite of the fact that their fines were paid, an event unique in the history of any of the three, the police failed to connect their obstrep- erous behavior with the loss of Lady Aldington's emeralds. Not one of the three connected himself with that loss. In the first place, they did not know that the emeralds had been stolen, since Inspector Giffen kept that knowledge from the papers for six days, and only suffered them to learn it then be- cause he had not been able to find the smallest clue to the grey-bearded kidnappers, and hoped that pub- licity might bring him one. In the second place, had they known of the robbery, Mr. Hector Ram- say, Mr. Robert Turner and Mr. William Preece were given to drink, not thought. In the third place, after each of the three had received at a dif- ferent public-house the three sovereigns from the young gentleman of a waggish air whose humorous THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 25 mind, so he told them, had conceived the agreeable, but practical, joke of rousing the inhabitants of Rutland Gate, Ennismore Gardens and Montpelier Square from their early morning slumbers, all three of them were in a state of intoxication, which pre- vented all thought for a week. At the end of that week all three of them were in gaol. When they came out the events of the preceding month were so hazy in their minds that it would probably have been impossible, even for the one person who had all the facts at his finger ends, to convince them that they had cleared Rutland Gate of police for the period during which their presence was unnecessary to the kidnappers. CHAPTER III THE AMBITIONS OF THE MARQUESS THE Marquess of Drysdale had fallen into the life of Nancy Weston with a good deal of the effect of a stone falling into a quiet pond; he ruffled it. His face and his talk kept re- curring to her mind. She wondered whether she ought not to have refused to let him make her ac- quaintance unintroduced. Her aunt and her friends at Alington, Mrs. Piggott, the wife of the doctor, and Mrs. Mainwaring, the wife of the parson, her instructors in the social observances, had taught her to discourage with the utmost firmness the unin- troduced acquaintance. She did not know how far their instructions applied to marquesses; and noth- ing could have been more a matter of course than the way in which the Marquess had sat down and talked to her. She wondered, too, what he had meant by say- ing that they would soon meet again. It seemed a most unlikely thing, though they might meet in the garden. That would be a mere chance, for what with her work and the weather she would not get 26 THH HOUSE ON THE MALL 27 many opportunities of reading in the garden. If they did meet, she could not very well discourage him now after their acquaintance had actually be- gun. Indeed she did not know exactly how to set about discouraging him : she did not think that it would be at all easy. She wondered if it were his habit to become intimate, unintroduced, with any girl he chanced to find in a garden. Perhaps more experienced girls knew the proper process of snub- bing marquesses. She wondered much at his solemnity, whether he were always as solemn. It seemed a remarkable quality in so young a man : he could not be more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight. She had a fan- cy that he was not always so solemn; certainly he was not solemn when he smiled ; it was a delightful smile. In the end she made up her mind that it was very unlikely that she would ever meet him again. She was wrong. Two afternoons later, on her way home from the Emporium, she did meet him half- way down Malkin Lane. He was coming up it at a brisk pace, as if he were hastening on the most pressing business in the world. He seemed to be about to pass her without recog- nizing her, when he stopped short, his solemn face broke into its charming smile, and he held out his hand, saying : "How do you do, Miss Weston ? It is a piece of luck chancing on you like this." 28 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL It might have been due to luck; it might also have been due to the fact that for the last half-hour the Marquess of Drysdale had been strolling up and down the bottom of Malkin Lane. Nancy, unused to the ways of London and of men, did not suspect this. She shook hands with him, shyly ; and he turned and walked down the lane with her. "Has Mr. Rawnsley been working you very hard to-day?" he said. "No, I've not had very much to do," said Nancy. "Ah, I thought you were looking rather pale. It must be being shut up in an office," said the Mar- quess. "I don't feel pale," said Nancy. "Perhaps you will feel it presently," said the Marquess. He congratulated her on the weather she kept in Chiswick, asked her whether she had finished her book and how she liked it; and they came round the corner and along the Mall to the big wooden doors which led to Mr. Rawnsley's garage. Nancy stopped and held out her hand. The Marquess looked at it with evident interest, but he did not take it: "That paleness don't you think a little walk to the end of the Mall? Yes; I think a little walk to the end of the Mall." Nancy stood still, hesitating. THE HOUSH ON THE MALL 29 "It would do me good, too," said the Marquess. "I've been working like a nigger all day." "Well, just to the end of the Mall. I have to give my uncle his tea. He would forget all about it if I didn't ; he is so absent-minded," said Nancy. They walked on a few steps, and she said : "You say you've been working to-day. I thought you didn't like work." "It wasn't really work ; it was politics. They're my game, you know," said the Marquess. "They must be very interesting," said Nancy, im- pressed. "Yes, they're great fun better than hunting. I'm going to be Prime Minister one of these days." Nancy digested the information; then she said, "You look as though you were a very good politi- cian." The Marquess stopped short with a look of great dismay. "I hope not," said he quickly. "Well, you look so very serious for your age," said Nancy. "Oh, that," said the Marquess with an air of re- lief. "The newspapers expect a politician to look serious." "I thought it couldn't be quite real all of it," said Nancy. "What ?" said the Marquess. "Your seriousness," said Nancy. 3 o THE HOUSE ON THE MALL "Oh, but it is. I'm a very serious man indeed," protested the Marquess. They walked on a few paces in silence, Nancy looking at the sunlit river, the Marquess looking down at Nancy's charming face. Then she said, "It must be very difficult to get to be Prime Minister." "Not at all," said the Marquess, airily. "There was once a young nobleman, a mere earl, by the way, who made up his mind to be Prime Minister and win the Derby a simple taste, wasn't it ?" "Very," said Nancy. "Now I'm going to be Prime Minister and marry the most beautiful woman in Europe," the Marquess went on ; and his tone was almost sepulchral. Nancy was aware of a sudden lack of interest in the ambitions of the Marquess, but she said politely, "That will be difficult too, won't it?" "Oh, dear, no," said the Marquess. "You see it's like this : first there are the princes of royal blood ; they have to marry princesses. That puts them out of my way. Then there are the dukes we need only consider the English dukes they are either married or else too stupid to want anything much out of the common. I know them all. That puts the dukes out of the way and leaves it open for mar- quesses. Now I am the senior unmarried marquess of England : that gives me first claim. So you see the most beautiful woman in Europe becomes mine." THH HOUSE ON THE MALL 31 He was looking down at Nancy, hard ; but Nancy was looking straight ahead of her with her brow knitted in a faint frown as she followed this intri- cate matter : "But won't you find it very difficult to find her ?" she said. "Of course I mean the most beautiful woman in Europe I can find," said the Marquess. "I see," said Nancy; and a few steps further on she added : "It seems rather curious to marry a woman, just because she's beautiful." "It's the custom of the English peerage," said the Marquess. "Consider the chorus girl." "Of course there is that," said Nancy, thought- fully; "but suppose when you did find her she wouldn't marry you?" Nancy, looking straight in front of her, failed to observe that the eyes of the Marquess were danc- ing, and that faint smiles played about the corners of his mouth: "It is impossible to suppose that," he said. "In matters of the heart we must always bear in mind that the senior unmarried Marquess of England is the senior unmarried Marquess of Eng- land." Nancy frowned more deeply as she pondered this state of affairs. Then she said, "But suppose she turned out to be a princess ?" "Now you're joking," said the Marquess; and! he laughed heartily. His laugh was loud but infectious; and Nancy 32 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL laughed too. Plainly the Marquess was not as sol- emn as he looked. "And how are you going to find her?" she said. The Marquess said that the discharge of his po- litical duties had hitherto prevented him from be- ginning the search; and the discussion of different methods brought them back to the big wooden doors. They stopped, and the Marquess looked at Nancy very solemnly and said : "I often think that tea is a delicious drink especially at this hour of the after- noon. Indeed, I usually have it at this hour. Has it ever occurred to you what a long way Chiswick is from tea?" "There are teashops in the High Road," said Nancy. "Would you condemn me to a teashop in the High Road ?" said the Marquess sadly. "There's there's Mr. Rawnsley," said Nancy. "Go to tea with Mr. Rawnsley without an invita- tion?" said the Marquess in a tone of horror. Nancy looked at him a little helplessly. She could not think of the process by which you checked a marquess who hinted with such vigor that he wished to come to tea with you. His usual solemnity had become a preternatural gloom. "Will you come and have tea with us?" she said rather faintly. "Though I'm sure I don't know THE Housn ON THE MALL 33 what my uncle will be like. He may just have been inventing something." "I shall be charmed. I like inventors," said the Marquess, opening the wooden door with alacrity. CHAPTER IV A DIVISION OF SPOILS AT ten o'clock of the evening of the 2ist of May, three men sat in the dining-room of 1 1 Malkin Lane. They had just come to the end of their dinner; and none of the three had yet flicked the first ash off his cigar. There was little in the appearance of the three to account for the atmos- phere of the room; a sense of danger hung on it. Montague Burge, head of the jewelry department of Rawnsle/s Emporium, a hard-eyed, hard-mouthed brute of forty, was merely the type of the successful slave-driver of the big, modern shop. The face of that well-known man about town, Mr. Herbert Shore- Wardell, with the little nose and little mouth in the middle of its round, florid expanse, was the face of a very large, but rose-pink, baby. Colonel Claude Webling, late of the Ottoman army, was indeed a man of a different stamp. With his lean, bony head, his big, hooked, predatory nose jutting out from his narrow, tanned face, he looked like a vulture. Yet his appearance alone was not enough to account for that atmosphere of danger; it was 34 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 35 diffused from the three of them. The room was sinister. The empty magnums, two on the sideboard, one on the table, were evidence that they had dined wisely and too well. Yet Montague Burge showed no vinous mellowing (a magnum would only clear his hard head) and the eyes of Colonel Webling were keen and alert ; he looked as sober as a fasting vulture. But the baby face of Mr. Herbert Shore- Waddell was richly crimson; his pale, blue eyes, always shallow, were curiously lack-lustre and emp- ty; and his drooping cigar was but insecurely held between his lips. Possibly his habit of looking fre- quently on the whiskey when it was yellow, as he played bridge of an afternoon, had unfitted him for carrying his magnum with a gentlemanly ease. There had been a silence for two or three min- utes, one of the happy silences of wise men reflect- ing on good food. Montague Burge broke it; he said in a rough, unpleasant voice, which even an ex- cellent dinner had not smoothed : "And now for a little business, gentlemen." Colonel Webling turned his keen eyes on him ; Mr. Shore- Wardell's lack-lustre eyes brightened with a faint flicker of intelligence. "The object of the next operation, gentlemen, is a young American," said Montague Burge. "His name is Rupert Christopher Drayton. He will ar- rive at the Savoy on the twenty-ninth of this month. 36 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL He could have brought the best of introductions from the States, but he is bringing none. He has one of these new-fangled bees in his bonnet, Social Reform or some such idiocy, and he is going to see England for himself on the quiet, instead of mixing in those er er exalted circles his money entitles him to mix in." "Some kind of a damned radical, I suppose," said Colonel Webling in a slow, deep, sonorous voice. "That's it, I expect," said Montague Burge. "Well, the chief has other views for him, I take it, for he wishes Shore- Wardell " In a flash Mr. Shore- Wardell's eyes were quite intelligent: "Will you be so good as to call me 'Mister Shore- Wardell,' Burge?" he snapped in a high-pitched, squeaky voice which sounded the squeakier for ite contrast to the rich tones of Colonel Webling. "Certainly certainly, Mr. Shore-Wardell no offence meant, and I hope none taken," said Mon- tague Burge hastily. "Thatsh all right," said Mr. Shore-Wardell ; and in waving his hand in a dignified gesture, he lost his support, lurched forward and would have buried his nose in the dish of almonds and raisins before him, had not the right arm of Colonel Webling shot out and straightened him in his seat. With a grunt he dropped on to the support of his arms again, and de- THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 37 plored squeakily the slipperiness of the chair in which he was sitting. Montague Burge had paused for the restoration of the status quo ante of Mr. Shore-Wardell, and when he was silent, he said : "Well, the Chief wishes you two gentlemen to show this young chap England, whether he wants you to or not. You make his acquaintance at the Savoy." Here he drew a note-book from his pocket and consulted it. "The Chief suggests an opening to you. This young Drayton is connected with the Dorset Draytons one of them emigrated to the States about a hundred and fifty years ago and you might work that opening." "The Chief does think of things," said Colonel Webling. "What was the young fellow's fathersh name?" said Mr. Shore-Wardell. "If he wash a Dorset Drayton, it musht have been something Christopher they're all shomething Christopher." "I don't know: the Chief didn't tell me," said Montague Burge, again looking at his note-book. "Drayton's not at all cocky about his family, only interested in it." "Impudent dog good English blood like that and not cocky about it. The fellow's a snob," said Mr. Shore-Wardell indignantly. "Those are all the Chief's instructions for the present. As soon as you have got friendly with 38 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL Drayton, the Chief will see the Colonel and tell him what he wants doing. In the meantime here's Dray- ton's photo," said Montague Burge. He took a photograph from his pocket and hand- ed it across the table to Colonel Webling. The Colonel looked at it carefully and saw the face of a young man of twenty-eight, a face of a type grow- ing more and more common in the States every year, almost a Roman type, recalling to the mind the busts of the twelve Caesars, no one of them indeed, rather a composite of half-a-dozen of them. The face was between square and round, the forehead broad, the brows level and a little projecting; the eyes were deep-set and large. They looked out of the portrait with a keen, frank gaze. The nose was clean-cut, straight, and a trifle thick; the lips were firm and rather thin, the chin square, the line of the jaw clean. It was the strong, self-reliant face of a man who trusts himself and can be trusted. "He'll give plenty of trouble, if once he tumbles to our game," said Colonel Webling carelessly, put- ting the photograph into his pocket. "I'll take care of it and show it to Shore-Wardell to-morrow no use now." There was something un-English in his sonorous speech, not in the accent but in the manner of his speaking. The English words seemed to come stiff- ly off his tongue, as though it had grown used to another language and disused to them. THE HOUSH ON THE MALL 39 "Right. And now, gentlemen, I have a pleasanter piece of business still," said Montague Burge, sud- denly washing his hands in the invisible soap and water of the shop- walker. "Lady Aldington's jew- els have been sold ; and I can now hand over to you your shares of the proceeds." The intelligence, all the intelligence they ever showed, came back to the eyes of Mr. Shore- War- dell. Montague Burge went to a bureau, which stood against the end wall of the room, took from a drawer two bulky envelopes, came back to the table, and sat down again. "I managed to sell the jewels better than I ex- pected. Your share comes to fifteen hundred pounds, Colonel, and yours to a thousand, Mr. Shore- Wardell," he said. "It's all in fivers, ten- ners and twenties." He tossed one of the envelopes across the table to Colonel Webling, and the other to Mr. Shore- Wardell, with an air of splendid patronage. Neither of them missed that air ; but neither of them paused to resent it. For two or three minutes there was no sound but the rustling of the banknotes they were counting. The baby face of Mr. Shore- War- dell was alive with an expression of extraordinary greed. Under the influence of that emotion his very muscles had tautened ; he no longer needed the sup- port of his arms ; greed had sobered him. He finished counting the notes, put them into his 4 o THE HOUSE ON THE MALL pocket, then leaned, frowning, towards Montague Burge, and cried, or rather squeaked, in his queru- lous, high-pitched voice: "This won't do, Burge! This won't do ! Those jewels are worth thirty thou- sand pounds every penny of thirty thousand pounds. I must have more than a thousand for my share a good deal more than a thousand." Colonel Webling bent forward and took another cigar from the box in front of him. "Jewels worth thirty thousand in the open mar- ket are not worth seven thousand when you have to sell them on the quiet," cried Montague Burge, with the angry contempt of an expert who hears a fool- ish statement on his subject. Colonel Webling cut the end off his cigar. "Don't tell me!" cried Mr. Shore- Wardell. "What share do you get? What share does the chief get?" Colonel Webling nipped the gold band off the cigar. "I get the same as you ; and I have all the danger of hawking about the Continent thirty thousand pounds worth of jewels, of which every dealer has had the exact description from the police," cried Montague Burge. Colonel Webling had lighted his cigar ; he leaned back, savoring its flavor, and watched the wranglers with half-closed eyes, very like a sleepy, uninterest- ed vulture. THB HOUSH ON THE MALL 41 "And what does the Chief get for sitting- quietly at home and doing nothing?" cried Mr. Shore- Wardell. "Doing nothing? What do you call doing noth- ing? Where should we be without the Chief ? Who thought of the Aldington jewels? Who made the plan for getting them? Why everything was his idea he chose the three of you; he chose the dis- guises; he fixed the hour to try for the jewels; he got Rutland Gate free of police for you," cried Mon- tague Burge as his anger grew. "What's that to driving a kidnapped peeress with thirty thousand pounds worth of jewels on her twenty-five miles in a stolen motor brougham, as I did?" cried Mr. Shore- Wardell. "What does the Chief get? Out with it!" Montague Burge hesitated, then he said: "The Chief hasn't got anything yet. I get him money when he wires that he's sending for it. His share is two thousand." "Two thousand! Two! Monstrous! Oh, we must have some of that two thousand a thousand of it yes, a thousand," cried Mr. Shore-Wardell. "Hand it over." "You don't suppose I've got it in the house. I know too much about my company," sneered Mon- tague Burge. "The money's in the bank." "What does that matter? You can write us cheques," said Mr. Shore-Wardell. 42 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL "Not me," said Montague Burge. "Then we'll make you. Won't we, Colonel?" cried Mr. Shore- Wardell. Colonel Webling breathed out a cloud of cigar smoke, shook his head, and said curtly, "I won't. You've been well paid for your night's work four hours was all we spent on it. What does it matter how much anybody else gets ?" "Fair's fair, Colonel Webling. We should share and share ajike. We ran all the risks," cried Mr. Shore-Wardell. His voice came squeaking out of a crimson mask of greed. "Nonsense ! Why should the Chief run any risk ? Generals don't run risks. Where would armies be, if they did? You've got plenty," said Colonel Web- ling. "Yes, yes ; there was weeks of work in that plan. And you're not the only people to be paid. There was getting the police out of Rutland Gate ; I don't know who did it, or how it was done, but you bet it cost money; and the Chief pays for that himself. And the footman who always sits beside Lady Ald- ington's chauffeur; you don't suppose it cost noth- ing to get him away. The Chief pays for that, too," said Montague Burge. "Fifty pounds would cover all those little jobs," said Mr. Shore-Wardell. "Not it," said Montague Burge. THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 43 "And why should Colonel Webling have fifteen hundred and I only a thousand? I ran just the same risk as he," cried Mr. Shore- Wardell more shrilly than ever. "That was the Chief's arrangement. He said the money was to be divided like that because the Col- onel was in charge of the enterprise. If you don't like it, you can talk to the Chief about it," said Mon- tague Burge. The Colonel laughed a short, barking laugh : "If I hadn't been there, the jewels would have been in Lord Aldington's safe, and you and that prize- fighter fellow what's his name? Billson would be in prison," he said. "You were wobbly, Shore- Wardell devilish wobbly; and Billson would have tried to pull the chauffeur off his seat from the wrong side of the brougham the fool! Besides, the leader always gets a larger share of the loot than his men always it's the rule." "Yes, yes; what's the good of haggling? After all you were told you would get eight hundred, and you get a thousand. What are you grumbling about?" said Montague Burge. "It's the unfairness," muttered Mr. Shore- War- dell; and he seemed to fall into a profound reflec- tion, his eyes still bright with greed. Montague Burge rose, took a bottle of brandy and a syphon from the sideboard, and set them on the table. They filled their glasses and fell to talk- 44 THH HOUSE ON THE MALL ing peacefully. Montague Burge and Colonel Web- ling drank freely ; Mr. Shore- Wardell seemed to be in an ascetic mood, he helped himself to soda out of all proportion to the brandy in his glass. He took but little share in the animated talk of his two com- panions ; indeed, now and again, some question from them showed that he had not been listening to it. He seemed absorbed in some train of thought of his own; but every now and then he looked sharply at the brandy bottle, as if he were marking how liquor sank in it. The brandy had sunk half-way down the bottle when of a sudden he joined in the talk with a cheerful affability. It was under his guidance that it came back to the subject of the Aldington emeralds. Presently he said carelessly, "I suppose you just give the Chief a cheque for his share, Burge ? You don't bother about getting twenties and tenners for him?" Montague Burge hesitated, then he said : "Not much. The Chief will get his two thousand in fivers four hundred fivers. There never was any- one so careful as the Chief." "Then I'll bet that he doesn't come tor them on foot. Does he come in a motor car?" said Mr. Shore- War dell. Montague Burge hesitated again: "You don't suppose the Chief comes for them himself. The THE HOUSE ON THB MALL 45 notes pass through three hands before the Chief gets them. I get them from the bank. Three evenings later the secretary of a friend of the Chiefs comes to me for them ; and his employer hands them on to the Chief. No one could ever prove that the Chief had one of them from me. And I'll bet that most of those fivers are changed into gold before they're paid into his bank. Oh, there's no catching the Chief!" The brandy indeed seemed to have loosened Mon- tague Burge's tongue. It was not often that it wagged so freely. "What's the secretary like?" said Mr. Shore- Wardell in the affable tone of one making polite conversation. "Oh, a fair-haired young fellow with a fair mustache," said Montague Burge. "Then if I saw a fair-haired young fellow, with a fair mustache coming out of your office at Rawnsley's Emporium, carrying a neat, square package, I should know that he had four hundred five-pound notes on him," said Mr. Shore- Wardell and he chuckled. "Yes, if you saw him come out of my office at Rawnsley's," said Montague Burge cautiously. "Ah, he comes here, does he?" said Mr. Shore- Wardell sharply. "I never said so. You want to know too much. Money that kind of money doesn't bear too much 46 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL talking about," said Montague Burge in the tone of irritation of a man who has said too much. "Curiosity idle curiosity," said Mr. Shore- War- dell with a careless wave of the hands; and he emptied his glass and rose. "You're not going?" said Montague Burge, with no great heartiness. "I'm afraid I must be off get in a rubber or two before I go to bed make me sleep better," said Mr. Shore-Wardell. Montague Burge did not press him to stay. He went out into the hall with him, found his hat and stick for him, and let him out of the house. He came back to the dining-room frowning: "There's no satisfying that fellow," he said. "If it had been ten thousand, he'd have asked for more." "He would," said Colonel Webling. "And one of these days he'll try to play us some dirty trick." "Yes; it's a pity he's so useful. You see, we really got Lady Aldington's habits from him." "It was odd how his greediness sobered him. I'm hanged if it wasn't like a cold plunge to him. But he needs watching." "And he'll be watched all right," said Montague Burge ; and he rose and opened the door to freshen the air of the room. "Of course at this game you have to take what you can get at in the way of assistants. That prize- fighter fellow he's an awkward brute to have to THE HOUSE ON THH MALL 47 deal with. I'm glad he didn't get the chance of see- ing my face the other night," said Colonel Web- ling. "Billson has an awkward temper. His friends say that out of the ring he can't keep it for twenty minutes on end. If he'd only the sense to keep straight and train, he could be champion of the world. But no one will train him now. At the end of a fortnight he bashes his trainer and goes off on the drink. He takes a lot of managing. It's an in- fernal nuisance having to work with such cattle," said Montague Burge with a lowering face. "He's been in a good many things," said Colonel Webling, watching him. "Too many. Fortunately he's a sulky drinker, or he'd have started bragging about one of them and made no end of trouble " "For himself. He's never seen my face; and I always have an alibi a very sound alibi." "He's seen mine," said Montague Burge. "Well I shall be very pleased to knock the in- subordinate dog on the head whenever the Chief wants it doing for a consideration of course," said Colonel Webling, smiling pleasantly. "About a couple of hundred ?" "Three," said Colonel Webling. "I'll let the Chief know." Colonel Webling mixed himself another brandy and soda, sipped it, and said: "Why did you tell 48 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL Shore-Wardell that yarn about the Chief and the fivers? I'm hanged if he didn't swallow it!" "The Chief's instructions are that I'm never to refuse information to any of you. I'm always to be ready with plenty as long as it's wrong," said Montague Burge. "Mauleverer's a very clever man. I'm glad I met him," said Colonel Webling in a tone of profound satisfaction. "I've never set eyes on him," said Montague Burge. "The deuce you haven't !" said Colonel Webling. CHAPTER V AT RAWNSLEY/S EMPORIUM MR. RAWNSLEY, founder and proprietor of Rawnsley's, was at work next morning in his comfortable, even luxurious, pan- elled office in the heart of the Emporium. He was a venerable man of from fifty-five to sixty; indeed there were few men in London of a more venerable air. His abundant, silky, white hair was long, and his long, flowing white beard spread out widely over his chest. But his venerable face was by no means a weak one: the lips, though rather thick, were firm ; his eyes were keen ; and his Roman nose was full of character. He had a more kindly ex- pression than is common in men who have built up a big business; but that was all the weakness that showed in him. That morning he had interviewed such of his- chiefs of departments as had wished to consult him, and was now leisurely dictating to Nancy Weston answers to the few letters with which those heads of departments had been unable to deal. As she sat at her desk taking down the letters in 49 50 THE HOUSE ON THE MALL shorthand, her face was composed and grave as be- fitted one engaged in a serious task. But now and again it broke into a ravishing smile at some jest of her employer's; for no matter how difficult or important the business with which he was dealing, Mr. Rawnsley would have his joke. His lawyer, an uncommonly shrewd man, ascribed much of his success in business to the fact that no rival had ever been able to disturb his imperturbable good humor. He had just finished dictating a letter when there came a knock at the door and Montague Burge en- tered. "Good morning, Mr. Burge. Type those letters out, Miss Weston ; and when I've finished with Mr. Burge come back and take some more," said Mr. Rawnsley. Nancy rose and left the room, careful not to meet the discomfiting eyes of Montague Burge. He al- ways looked at her as if he were burning to devour her. The door closed behind her; and Mr. Rawnsley said in a rich, melodious voice : "Well, did you pay your fellow conspirators all right?" "Yes; I gave them their money," said Montague Burge, not very cheerfully. "Then that affair's closed," said Mr. Rawnsley quite cheerfully. "I don't know about that. Shore-Wardell grum- bled a good deal. He said that the Chief was get- THE HOUSE ON THB MALL 51 ting more than his share, since we had run all the risks, while he sat quietly at home." "Gay but greedy Shore-Wardell. What risk does the idiot think he ran? The Chief gets his two thousand for making it perfectly safe for Shore- Wardell to kidnap Lady Aldington and strip her of her jewels. When the Chief had done his work, three schoolboys could have done the rest if they'd had the muscle and one of them could have driven a motor brougham," said Mr. Rawnsley, contemptu- ously. "Point that out to the greedy idiot next time you see him." "I did point it out to him, or at least something very like it. But he wasn't satisfied. It's my idea that he means mischief." "It's one thing to mean mischief and quite an- other to be able to do it. What does he think he can do?" said Mr. Rawnsley carelessly. "I don't know. But I'm sure he had some idea in his head; and I think the Chief ought to be told. Shore- Wardell's a much cleverer man than he looks," said Montague Burge, frowning. "He wouldn't be of any use to the Chief if he weren't, because he wouldn't know exactly what to find out for him. But I'll certainly tell the Chief what you say, for I have a great belief in your judg- ment," said Mr. Rawnsley, who never lost a chance of showing his appreciation of his lieutenants. "Was Colonel Webling satisfied?" 52 THE HOUSE ON THB MALL "Quite. He looked at it that he had got fifteen hundred pounds for four hour's work." "A very honest man the Colonel in spite of that utter disregard of the rights of property and human life which he acquired in the service of the Sultan. I should say that his word was every bit as good as his bond," said Mr. Rawnsley warmly. "And he's ready to knock Billson on the head for three hundred whenever the Chief wants it doing," said Montague Burge. "He doesn't like Billson." "Capital ! Capital !" cried Mr. Rawnsley. "Thor- ough absolutely thorough." And he laughed a rich, ringing laugh. He rose and, going to the safe in the corner, brought from it two emerald tiaras and two emerald necklaces and set them on his desk: "The Chief's idea of letting the police photograph our replicas of the Aldington tiara and necklace when they were searching for the stolen ones, and the exhibiting the replicas in our Bond Street branch, has worked again," he said. "We never had such an advertisement," said Montague Burge, with enthusiasm. "No; the trouble the police had with the crowds who came to look at them kept forcing the papers to talk about them ; and of course the American papers had to take it up, so that now I've got an order from a Pittsburg millionaire of the name of Mallet for a third Aldington necklace and tiara." THE HOUSE ON THE MALL 53 "Good," said Montague Burge. "If we'd had it earlier, we could have distributed the actual Aldington emeralds among three tiaras and three necklaces instead of between these two sets," said Mr. Rawnsley. "It wouldn't do to run your motor car over these four pieces as you ran it over the first two and smash up the settings again. Our jewelers might think a double accident suspicious," said Montague Burge, doubtfully. "I should think they would!" cried Mr. Rawns- ley impatiently. "No, no ; these two sets will go to their purchasers as they are. The police are never likely to hear that the Rajah has replicas of the Ald- ington jewels. At any rate they won't learn it for a good long while ; and by that time our purchases of emeralds will have so confused things that there'll be no tracing anything, to say nothing of the fact that I'm going to have a fire and get our books burnt. But what I want to know is about the emer- alds in the ear-rings ; can they be used in this third tiara and necklace ?" "Two of the four have been used already," said Montague Burge, taking up a tiara and running his eye over it. "Let's see; here's one of them." He laid his finger on one of the emeralds in the top row of the tiara. Then he picked up the other tiara, ran his eye over it, set it down, picked up one of the necklaces and looked at it, laid his finger on the 54 'THE HOUSE ON THE MALL third emerald to the right of the centre stone, and said, "Here's the other." "Burge, you're a wonder," said Mr. Rawns- ley. "Well, every emerald is different from every other emerald and every diamond or ruby from every other diamond or ruby. If I've seen a stone once, I remember it. It's a knack," said Montague Burge. "It's genius," said Mr. Rawnsley. "No ; I can't help remembering them," said Mon- tague Burge, a little puzzled.