The Castle by the Sea/Chapter 17
CHAPTER XVII
THE HAVANA CIGAR
THE sun well in the heaven was burning brightly when I awoke the next morning. I still ached in all my body, but there was an eager day's work before me, and I could not afford to lie abed. To myself I seemed a stranger upon earth, newborn into a new sweet life. From death I had floated into Paradise, into a life of abundant sunshine and richness and grace. I was not likely to stay my flights of thought, consequent upon the night, but what I set down here has nothing to do with those: the record of this strange story demands my attention.
Between my rising and lunch I was in the village making inquiries. No trace of Norroy was there to be found. I went as far as the Point, and still heard nothing. At lunch Peter Toosey and I talked it all over. His curious agile mind had undoubtedly found a feasible solution. The boat we had seen while picnicking might have made a landing in our rear; and the only possible explanation of Norroy's disappearance lay in the hypothesis that he had been kidnapped by it. But why?
I turned this problem over in my mind carefully, persistently, anxiously. There could be no doubt that only one group of persons could have directed this blow. The trouble was to find an explanation for their conduct. They had served their writ on Norroy, which had, as I understood it, the object of forcing him into bankruptcy and acquiring his estate. If so, they would evidently not desire that he should be able to discharge the debt for which they had instigated proceedings. Was it possible that they had taken alarm at his relations with Miss Harvey, a notable heiress? It was impossible to guess. But one thing was certain—that to solve the secret we must watch Mr. Horne and his friends and accomplices.
I felt certain that I should her from Miss Harvey, and in the early afternoon I had my faith substantiated. She came over with her mother, alive with anxiety and activity. Mrs. Harvey exhibited more distress than I should have deemed the circumstances warranted. She had once indicated to me her poor opinion of Sir Gilbert; but he had now risen to the height of a victim, even of a hero. What were we going to do She suggested cabling to Pinkerton's in New York, being evidently distrustful of our English detectives. But I told her that I did not think the time had come for that resource, at which her daughter was clearly relieved. For some reason or other I gathered that Christobel had confidence in me. I said that inquiries had already been set on foot, and that, if we learned nothing from them, we should take other steps. It was Toosey, not I, who suggested, in defiance of his previous statement, that Sir Gilbert had possibly bolted to France to escape the process of law. He threw out brilliant suggestions as an anvil throws out sparks, but, in the light of what happened later, I will not venture to depreciate his ingenuity. Let it suffice to say that his suggestion was scornfully rejected.
The next day I heard from my friend in London regarding a query which I had forgotten. He had found no difficulty in identifying Mr. Naylor, having the memory of a man whose meteoric career in the city he had come across a few years earlier. Naylor, he said, if this were the man, was a financier of plausible address and of some good fortune, who had, however, of late, narrowly escaped the bankruptcy court and a prosecution. It was interesting, but hardly shed any light on our trouble.
Yet upon Naylor I felt that my attention must centre. If any one was the key to the situation it was he. Early that same afternoon the Harveys arrived again, and as I reached the gate I met them entering the park with Miss Fuller and my Perdita. I had gone down to the village to invite them to tea, and had demurely, and with the utmost propriety and even rigidity of conduct, conducted them to the Castle. Perdita was more charming than ever, struck with light and life and color, and a new sweetness that emerged from within her secret self.
It was no time for delightful dalliance; the stern duties of inquisition were laid on us. No news of Norroy had come to hand, and I had begun to grow anxious myself. The village was seething with the "sensation," in its rustic way, and it certainly looked like developing into a "job for the detectives." We discussed the disappearance together from all aspects, but were able to arrive no farther than we had already done. Only one thing of importance I had discovered, and that was the handsome face of Mr. Naylor in the village. He had taken a room for the night at the "Feathers" and had ordered dinner at seven-thirty, as I learned from the landlord; having learned so much I had left resolved to return in time for that dinner. I was able, therefore, to give the council some consolation in a picked-up clue. More, I did not reveal at the time, being unwilling to raise their hopes too high. The discussion ceased of its own inertia at last, and Mr. Toosey took up a book from a side table. I noticed it was Bacon's "Novum Organum," just as my attention was called off by Mrs. Harvey.
"I say," said Toosey, breaking in suddenly on us, "is this authentic or is it a fake?"
I looked over at him, and saw he had the title-page open with the devices which I have mentioned.
"Oh, it's genuine," said I. "Its date is seventeen something."
He studied it for some minutes, then plumped it on the table excitedly.
"It's a cipher!" he pronounced.
And at that it all came out, and I had to tell the story of the secret passage, and of my vain exploration. Upon the top of this, of course, I must needs conduct the party to the gallery, and open the panel; and candles were employed to investigate the stairway. I believe Mrs. Harvey was of the opinion that we should find Norroy hidden there. I had managed to create an air of confidence, but in reality I was far from feeling it myself. I certainly had no desperate fears for Norroy, but the situation puzzled, even dismayed me. The inherent vitality of her temperament enabled Miss Harvey to become absorbed in the new pastime of hunt the cipher. In company with Toosey she examined all the staircases that could be found in the castle, and, wearied of a profitless task, I left them to the amusement and went back to the other guests. I had my reward when we had wandered out on to the lawn, and the ever blessed Miss Fuller led Mrs. Harvey away to see some prettiness in the garden.
"Let us lose them, Perdita," I implored.
She gave me her sweet shy smile and said nothing. It was an answer in itself.
"Let me hear your voice all to myself," I said, taking her hand. "I have heard it babbling chatter with the world. Now let your lover hear it for himself."
Her look, still shy and embarrassed, pleaded with me. I had yet to realize that it is not always high tide in a girl's heart; her passion ran low; she watched me with sweet diffident eyes, and half ashamed. She was troubled, and had not the magnificent confidence of her full pulse of love. Yet under my gaze and the clamor of my heart, hers began to expand. I saw the deep and inner founts of affection stir and gush and tremble in the pools of her eyes.
Mrs. Harvey came back.... I had never put a question to my love, but I cared not. There was no need of question and answer between us. An instinct united us.... Mrs. Harvey came back, and declared that she must go. And so we went in, and found Mr. Toosey and Christobel poring over the book and arguing. I was tired of the cipher, but grateful to it. I saw them go, and kissed my hand to the car.
My trail began between eight and nine that evening. I picked it up at the inn as I had hoped to do. And it was the beginning of the remarkable events which I have now to set forth.
Elegant with almond finger-nails, and the white crescent showing large at the base, a cigar of perfect fragrance, and his languid feminine eyes, Mr. Naylor passed the entrance to the bar parlor of the "Feathers" and entered his private sitting-room at seven-thirty. I liked it better that he was alone; for if Horne had been with him, I should have had misgivings at such an open association. But Naylor had the room to himself and dined leisurely, down to his liqueur, which the innkeeper had succeeded in producing from the dust of his back shelves. As for me, I sat and chatted generously with every chance comer and, incidentally, drank more spirit than I had a fancy for. But I was determined to stand above suspicion and to be there merely on pleasure. And thus I had my reward.
It was after half-past eight when Naylor moved. What did so urban a man in this outlandish place? I asked myself. My host thought the gentleman was staying overnight only, and was going on to Plymouth on the morrow. He had been down before, he said, and fancied the place; so broke his journey on the way. It was a lame tale for a conspirator, and yet the disturbing part of it was that it might be exactly true. He might very well have come for a walk along the coast line in that fine summer weather. Travellers take a liking to some village met in their itineraries, and come and come again. But I knew it was not true. Was Mr. Naylor going forth that night to walk coastwise? I knew him better. If he went to take the air so would I. It was dusk when he started.
I had no difficulty in keeping him in view, for he had no suspicion that he was followed, and the evening was quite light. He went right through the village, stick in hand, and sauntered down into the lane that ran near the estuary towards the Point. It was darkening when we reached the Point; seaward the sky was broken into masses of clouds and some fine openings of gray light. The houses of the fishermen were in deep shadow and being fast involved in the night. Now I was interested in the Point. Its population, which was scanty, seemed of a ruder, bluffer character than the people of the more civilized Southington, and doubtless had the qualities of their defects. Moreover the inquiries I had set on foot had failed to trace any boat out of Southington which could account for our strange visitors at the island. There were several places from which a sailing boat might have reached the estuary, but the Point was that which offered itself as the likeliest next after our village. And yet no information of any boat could be obtained there. But in a hamlet which was devoted to fishing and fishermen, it was not altogether impossible that the destination of one small craft might escape notice. Concealed in the darkness of the houses I watched Naylor. His actions were by no means suspicious. He passed the huddle of cottages, and went out to the rocks which formed the extremity of the hamlet, and, after remaining there for a few minutes in apparent admiration of the night scene, he retraced his path and moved westwards along the foreshore, ultimately turning the bluff which bounded the village. When I reached this he was some hundred yards away, strolling along the beach, stick in hand, and leaving the odor of his excellent Havana behind him.
I followed warily, and at varying intervals so we continued—past the cliffs and the caves, past the limits of the Castle grounds, along the arc of the shore for a mile or more. The beach here was rough with boulders and the tide was well out; it was a pleasant night, and I almost despaired of finding that we had come out for more than a constitutional by the wonderful sea. We had got more than half-way across the north bight that curves in between the Point and the next promontory, when suddenly my quarry vanished. I had kept close enough to hold him in observation all the time, but he suddenly disappeared. I hastened forward to catch him up, but as that did not bring his figure out of the darkness, I dropped again into a dignified pace and continued my way a little on the sea side of the boulder.
I think I should have given up the chase altogether and returned in chagrin to the Castle but for my nose. I have a strong sense of smell, and now through the acrid salt savor of the seaweed and all sea things, there drifted to my nostrils the scent of a cigar. I did not pause, but went on, yet turned my head and looked upwards towards the rocks that were here a serried phalanx on the margin of the high-water mark. It seemed to me that I could make out dimly a figure seated among them. I should not have suspected it for a human being, had it not been for that fragrance on the air. And yet, if it was Naylor, of what could I suspect him? I walked on some three hundred yards farther until I was swallowed up in the night, and then, taking a leaf out of his book, I found a seat among the rocks myself.
I waited ten minutes, but there was no sign—a quarter of an hour, and then I descried a figure moving below down on the beach. I got up cautiously, and strode off towards it, keeping it only as an undefined shape that melted into and out of the darkness. I pursued these tactics until at last I plainly saw it diagonally cross the boulders and make for the cliff. I followed, and presently I discovered that I was ascending an easy gradient of the cliff side.
On the top some lights were visible in cottages, and between them and me was my dark figure. It paused for a moment outside one of the houses, and (as I was much closer now) when the door opened, the light from within flashed on the man's face. To my utter chagrin it was not Naylor. The door shut, and I had hardly the spirit to approach and examine the house. But I did so, and thought I could make out a faint illegible sign-board above the door. Apparently it was a roadside inn; and before me stretched a winding road which moved eastward somewhere, I took it, in the direction of the estuary.
There was nothing for it now but to go back, and I did so with bitter disappointment. I had lost my man, and apparently he had been bent on nothing more offensive than a nocturnal ramble by the sea. I strode back along the shore at a faster rate, resolved to give up my quest for the night at any rate and wondering why I had thought myself a smart detective. In the midst of these thoughts I came face to face with Naylor, and apologized almost before I had recognized him by the cock of his hat. He answered civilly, and continued on his way, as I on mine. But the encounter led me into a new train of ideas. Why was a shady financial agent anxious to spend an hour in commune with his own soul by the sea, remote from human habitation? It did not strike me as in keeping, unless he were contemplating suicide.
Yet after my former failure I dared not turn and follow. He had already merged in the night. I stood and considered. In a flash I had an inspiration. The man's face at the window had been vaguely familiar to me; now I recalled it. He was the tall dark fisherman I had seen once in conversation with Horne on the sea-front. But what of that, you say? Nothing, save that I harbored a brood of suspicions. If Naylor suspected that he was followed, he had effectively dodged me by his ruse. What if he had been on his way to keep an appointment with the fisherman? What fisherman would go for his evening glass to an inn so inaccessible, when there was Southington so handy? Through Horne the connection was easily obtained. I paused, I wondered, I doubted, and I turned. After all my failure could not be more complete than it had been.
But I was in no mood to risk discovery this time. If Naylor were on his way to a meeting he would arrive at the inn eventually. Knowing, then, his presumed destination, I was not at the necessity of tracking him. I could go direct to the tavern myself. I struck over the rocks towards the cliffs, which fortunately here descended very low, and I was soon at the top. Thereafter I made off across the fields in the direction of the cottages, which I reached after some blundering in the darkness.
The inn door was shut, but there was still a light in the window. If Naylor had been going there he must have arrived before me. I went round to the back of the house, but all the blinds were drawn. I managed to see the time by the light from a window, and found it was just ten. At ten I knew all licensed houses close and the guests must turn out. I should, therefore, have only a few minutes to wait in order to solve my problem.
I waited until the inn disgorged, and stood in the shadows to observe the men as they came out. The dark fisherman was not one of them. I had been a fool, then, for all my pains, and I had only a dreary and empty tramp back before me. As I was turning away, a shadow on the blind arrested me. It was the figure of a man, but there was nothing in that, nothing save that it stooped over the lamp obscuring it for a moment, as if he had bent to light his pipe. And then there travelled slowly to my nostrils the remembered fragrance of a fine Havana cigar!
I thrilled. Naylor was here then, and I had been right after all. Of course he could stay as long as he liked after licensed hours by the simple expedient of hiring a bedroom. If he had done that, it showed me clearer than ever that I was on the right tack. If he had hired a room to discourse with a confederate—!
I waited quite three quarters of an hour, and then the door opened, emitting no other than Naylor. There was exchange of talk between him and a man within, and I gathered that he had engaged a trap to drive him. If so I had lost him again. But there still remained the dark fisherman; of that I was now sure.
From my hiding-place I watched Naylor drive off along the road to the estuary and soon afterwards the other man emerged. He did not hesitate, but struck off down the cliff to the beach, and I was on his trail like a hound upon the fox's. I would not lose him at any rate.
No doubt, if they ever had supposed they were followed, they had been deluded by my return into a false security. And so the fisherman stalked through the night carelessly and without any concern for spies. We walked by the low water where the sand was hard and wet, and the night winds blew in our faces briskly, and we crossed the bight again to the neighborhood of the cliff and the cavern. Just here the man took a slanting path upwards to the rocks, and began to cross them to the door of the cave. I succeeded in still retaining my view of him, until, finally, he vanished at the mouth of the cavern. I approached nearer, and waited and listened; and then a light flashed up and moved in the air; then that disappeared. I went forward stealthily till I had reached the entrance, and peered in. I advanced into the outer cavern and looked through into the inner; a faint light, the reflection as it were of a glow, a diffusion of luminosity in the interior air was appreciated by my eyes newly out of the blindness of the night. Somewhere within was the man with his lantern. My legs came to a standstill, but mentally I went on with a huge impetuous rush. I had made a discovery. The caves assumed new light, new proportions. I began to see that the solution lay here. But what was it. And in what manner was Norroy involved in it? The glow died out and left pitch darkness. I deliberated long as I turned back. The caves demanded exploration.