The Duke Decides, Page 3

  CHAPTER III--_A Task-master in Goggles_

  The next morning the _St. Paul_ arrived at Southampton, but Beaumanoircontrived to secure a seat in the same compartment of the boat-train,and his parting with his new friends was therefore deferred till theyreached Waterloo.

  He was sorely tempted to enlist the elder lady's favor by making knownhis proper style and rank; though, to do her justice, Mrs. Sherman'sfondness for the peerage was largely a humorous fiction on herdaughter's part. The Senator's wife was really a simple-minded body,with an abiding admiration for the unattainable, and the Britisharistocracy was naturally included in that category.

  But the sight of Mr. Marker's covert-coat hovering near them on thearrival platform checked the Duke's intention, which the next moment wasrendered unnecessary by Mrs. Sherman herself.

  "Come and see us, Mr. Hanbury," she said, extending the tips of herfingers in farewell. "We are to be the guests of some good friends ofours at 140 Grosvenor Gardens, and we know them well enough to makeourselves at home. The Senator will be over in a week or two, and he'llbe glad to thank you for your politeness."

  "I will pay my respects without fail," Beaumanoir responded; and aminute later, after a warmer pressure of Leonie's well-gloved hand, hestood watching their cab with its load of "saratogas" drive down theincline. By the void in his heart he knew that the girl in thecoquettish toque, who had just repeated her mother's invitation with hereyes, was all the world to him.

  He turned to look after his scanty baggage with a sigh. How different itwould all have been if he had chosen some other route to his Brooklynboarding-house on the eventful night when the plausible Jevons hadwaylaid him! All would have been plain sailing, and he could have askedLeonie with a clear conscience to share his new-found honors and wealth.As it was he stood committed to a felonious enterprise which would fillher with contempt and loathing did she know of it; though, if heabandoned it, instinct told him he was a doomed man.

  The sight of the insignificant spy Marker lurking behind a pile ofluggage reminded him that his peril might commence at any moment if heshowed any sign of inconstancy to his pledge. Not that he anticipatedtrouble from the covert-coated whippersnapper himself; but the mere factof it having been thought worth while to shadow him across the Atlanticspelled danger, and suggested an organization that would stop at nothingto safeguard itself.

  However, he had made up his mind to call on the mysterious Ziegler, andby doing so at once he might prove his fidelity and secure a respitefrom this unpleasant espionage. Summoning a hansom, he bade the drivertake him to the Hotel Cecil, and looking back he saw Marker following inanother cab.

  In the few minutes that elapsed before he was driven into the courtyardof the palatial hotel he settled a problem that had been vexing him nota little during the voyage. Should he introduce himself to Ziegler asthe Duke of Beaumanoir or as plain Charles Hanbury, the name by which hehad been "engaged"? If he was for a brief space to be the consort ofprofessional thieves, he would prefer to lead a double life--to performhis misdeeds as a commoner, and to keep his dukedom spotless. So it wasthat he gave his name as Hanbury to the clerk in the bureau of thehotel.

  While waiting the return of the bell-boy who was sent to announce hisarrival, Beaumanoir looked about for Marker, but the spy was nowherevisible in or from the entrance-hall. Having shepherded him to the fold,it was evidently no part of his duty to obtrude himself till furtherorders.

  A minute later the neophyte in crime was limping up the grand staircasein wake of the bell-boy, who conducted him to one of the best privatesuites on the first floor overlooking the Embankment. It was a momentcharged with electricity as the Duke of Beaumanoir found himself face toface with the man who had hired him in his poverty, and now held himfetter-bound in his good fortune.

  "Yet could this be he--this personification of aged helplessness lyingamong the cushions of an invalid chair, who, in a thin, piping treble,requested his visitor to come closer? Beaumanoir had pictured all sortsof ideals of the master in crime, but Mr. Clinton Ziegler in the fleshresembled none of them. A snowy beard covered the lower half of hisface, drooping over his chest, but the puffy cheeks were visible, andtheir full purple hue betokened some cutaneous affection. The eyes wereshaded by blue glasses.

  "You are the person sent by Jevons from New York?" he began in hisparrot-like tones. "Good! What is your name? For the moment I haveforgotten it, and I cannot lay my hand on the cablegram relating toyou."

  Encouraged by the feeble senility of one whom he had expected to find atower of strength--a grim, inscrutable being with an inscrutablemanner--the Duke was confirmed in his intention to preserve the secretof his rank.

  "My name is Charles Hanbury," he answered, boldly.

  But an awakening, instant and complete, was in store for him. The wordswere hardly out of his mouth when Mr. Ziegler coughed a signal, andthree masked men rushed upon him from the adjoining bedroom, pinioninghis arms and stifling his sudden cry of alarm.

  "What shall we do with him, sir?" asked one of the men.

  "Chloroform him first; then you must dispose of him at leisure," camethe monotonous piping treble from the invalid chair.

  One of the assailants made immediate preparations for obeying thebehest, but just as he was about to saturate a handkerchief Zieglerlaughed shrilly:

  "Let him alone, boys. He lied to me, and I wanted to give him alesson--that's all."

  The men, at a sign from their chief, retired into the bedroom.

  "Now, perhaps you will recognize that I am not to be played with, _yourGrace_," squeaked Mr. Ziegler. "Also that my ears are as long as myarms. I have known for some days that the gentleman whom my good friendJevons was able to procure has had a sudden change in his fortunes, andI congratulate myself upon it. It doubles your value to us, all the moresince your early call upon me after landing shows that you mean to abideby your bargain. But there must be no more petty reservations andconcealments like that. If you try them on, rest assured that they willbe detected and dealt with."

  The Duke straightened his rumpled collar, and looked, as he felt, abeaten man. The mass of infirmity in the wheel-chair held, withoutdoubt, a power with which he could not cope. On the face of it thenotion that a man could be violently made away with in a crowded Londonhotel might seem melodramatic and improbable, but the experience of thelast few minutes had shown him how readily it could be done by a chiefas well served as Ziegler appeared to be. And if he was at the man'smercy in a crowded hostelry like the Cecil, where would he be safe? Yes,if he was to enjoy his dukedom, he would have to go through with histask.

  "Well, give me my instructions. What am I to do?" he said, stiffly.

  "You have made a very good beginning already," replied Ziegler, watchinghim narrowly through the tinted glasses. "A gentleman, acting on behalfof the United States Government, will shortly bring to this country thethree million pounds' worth of Treasury bonds which we mean to have. Itwill be your task to relieve him of the paper, substituting bonds of ourown make, which will be deposited at the Bank of England as securityagainst a shipment of gold."

  "I see," the Duke murmured, mechanically. "But," he added with moreanimation, "how have I made a beginning already?"

  "By making yourself agreeable to Miss Leonie Sherman. It is her father,Senator Sherman, who is bringing the real bonds," was the answer, whichstruck a chill to the Duke's heart and kept him speechless withamazement. This old scoundrel seemed to know everything, to havearranged everything, irrespective of time and space.

  "You ought to be grateful for my foresight in smoothing the way foryou," Ziegler croaked, in evident enjoyment of his perplexity. "It wasmy agent who, by securing the good offices of a steward, had you placednext Miss Sherman at the saloon table on the _St. Paul_, with the resultthat he was able to report to me this morning from Southampton bytelegraph that you had made use of your opportunity."

  "I see," was all the Duke could feebly repeat.

  "You have been invited to call on the Sherma
ns in London? You know wherethey are staying, 140 Grosvenor Gardens?"

  "Yes," said Beaumanoir.

  "Good! Then your Grace will go on as you have begun. Gain the girl'sconfidence, and that of her mother--the latter will be easy under theauspices of your new dignity--and come here again at twelve o'clock onSaturday morning, three days hence. I may then have further instructionsfor you."

  And Mr. Clinton Ziegler waved a white, well-formed hand in dismissal.