Читать книгу The Blue Daffodil - Fred M. White - Страница 4

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HERE was a great concession, and the lovers knew it. There were two keys to the fortress, one of which was a master, the other for the use of Vera when Garnstone was away, and she had need to leave the premises. And the way in which the keys were worked in the front door lock was known only to Garnstone and his trusted secretary. A certain gadget had to be manipulated first, and this, working automatically, was so ingeniously hidden that nobody who managed to steal the key could possibly find it or indeed be aware that it existed. Thieves had attempted to enter the old millionaire's stronghold, but with no success. In front of the building was a powerful standard lamp which was always turned on at night from inside Garnstone's library. Of this the police were aware and would act promptly in case the light failed. There was a side window to the building, but this led to a blind alley, also the side of the building lacked anything in the shape of water pipes, while such windows as had been there at one time were now bricked up so that the side of the house presented an entirely flat surface to any enterprising burglar who had an ambition to enter the fortress.

It was just after seven o'clock when Vera left the flat, carefully closing the door behind her. She heard the great steel bolts click into their places, and then adjusted the ingenious gadget on the outside. This could be manipulated from the inside by a master key in case of emergency. And in case Garnstone wanted to go out, he would inform Gunter of the fact by house telephone and take that bodyguard with him which was a rigid rule where night excursions were concerned. That was if Garnstone was carrying valuables on his person.

Vera walked along in the direction of the Premium Hotel, where Ronald was to meet her, feeling that she had not a care in the world. She was happy and comfortable in her work; she was in the enjoyment of more money than she could spend seeing that she had no friends of either sex and therefore had no occasion to fritter her salary away on pleasures.

All the same there were times when she longed for some change from the monotony of the fortress. She knew that she would be well provided for when Garnstone was no more, as did Ronny Brentford himself. That Ronnie had fallen in love with her was a wonderful and delightful thing, but then Ronnie was so often on his travels, and Garnstone was not supposed to know that the young people had come to an understanding.

But had they really come to an understanding? Vera asked herself as she walked along. There was nothing on her left hand to prove the fact, but perhaps after to-night.

There was a delicate flush on her face and a sparkle in her eyes as she entered the lounge where Ronnie Brentford was eagerly awaiting her. And when she bared her head showing the mass of silver hair in striking contrast to her dark colouring, many admiring glances were turned in her direction. Not that she noticed these in the dazzle of lights, the flowers on the shaded tables and the life and movement about her.

But she did not fail to see the proud gleam in Ronnie's eyes as he escorted her to a table reserved in one corner of the room. There they took their seats, and now Vera had an opportunity to study the gay scene about her. As she did so all the colour drained from her cheeks, and for a moment it seemed to Brentford that she was on the point of fainting.

"What is the matter, darling?" he whispered.

It was the first time that term of endearment had passed his lips, and Vera thrilled to it. All the same, she indicated a dark, rather distinguished man with a black moustache and short beard, who was sitting at a nearby table in company with a pretty girl in red.

"That man there," Vera whispered. "Paul Manstar. At one time my father's secretary. He has changed little, but I recognise him. I was but a child at the time, but I shall never forget him."

"But he can't hurt you," Ronnie pointed out.

"I know, I know," Vera murmured. "But the sight of him brings it all back. The man who owed us everything. And the man who stole thousands of pounds worth of treasures."

"I'll make it my business to learn something about him," Ronnie declared grimly, "but probably you will never see him again, darling."

Brentford's voice trailed off on the last endearing word, and once more Vera thrilled to it. She shook off her terror, and smiled into her companion's eyes. In a few moments the man with the black beard was forgotten.

"I shall have to stay in London and look after you I can see," Ronnie said. "You live too much alone with that old man. The mere fact that he is going to leave you a lot of money some day is not everything. And 'some day' may be a long way off, sweetheart. Vera, can't you imagine why I asked you to come here with me to-night?"

"To—give me pleasure," Vera murmured.

"And both of us happiness, I hope," Ronnie said. "Vera, you must know that I love you. I have done so since the very first day we met. I am not so poor that we shall have to wait. I don't want you to desert the old man who has been so good to both of us, but the time must come when—but perhaps I am taking too much for granted. Still, if you think you can possibly care for me one of these days . . ."

Her dark eyes met his grey ones.

"I could ask no greater happiness," she said steadily. "What more could any girl wish for than a good man's love? Let me make a confession, my Ronnie. When you asked me to dine with you to-night I prayed for something like this. From the first it has always been you, Ronnie. Oh, it is lovely to feel that I am no longer in the world with nobody to confide in or seek out if I needed a haven of rest. Ronnie, you have lifted the one great shadow from my heart."

She paused, conscious that other eyes were watching her, and laughed with the sheer joy of life. What did it matter what they ate or drank? What did anything matter just then?

"Let's make the best of the shining hour," Ronnie cried gaily. "When we have finished here we will go on to some show and perhaps a dance. You have your pass-key so that it does not matter what time you get home. I shall see you as far as the fortress door anyway."

And Vera was content to leave it at that. But it was only when dinner was over and she and her lover were in a taxi on the way to the Coliseum that Vera experienced the full measure of her happiness. With Ronnie's arms about her and his lips on hers she drank the full contentment of life.

"We will keep our secret to ourselves darling," Ronald said as they sat in the darkness of the taxi. "Take this ring that I brought with me in case my love was returned, and wear it about your neck for the present. We don't want to upset the old man before it is necessary. Hold it to the light. Then tell me if my taste meets with your approval."

"Won't you put it on?" Vera asked.

"Of course," Ronald cried. "How stupid of me."

He slipped the diamond and platinum circle about the slender finger where it fitted to perfection.

"How lovely, and yet how simple," Vera murmured in a rapture of delight. "I should like to wear it always; I should like to flash it in the face of the world and say it was given me by the best man I know—the man I am going to marry. But perhaps you are right. Still Mr. Garnstone may choose to retire one of these days and then——"

"Never!" Ronald cried emphatically. "The fascination of his job will never grow less. The handling of historic gems and plate forms part of his life."

"Shared by the Blue Daffodil," Vera laughed. "Don't forget that, Ronnie."

"Which flower he thinks he has found," Brentford pointed out. "With that ambition satisfied, he will be all the more keen on his life's work. Moreover, he may not be quite as rich as we think he is. He spends recklessly doing research work for other people, and merely takes his trade commission. Also he is fond of money. He pays neither of us too much, and Gunter, who has been with him all these years, never sees more than his few shillings a week. Nor dare he ask for a few shillings in advance."

It was with a sigh that at length the lovers parted at the entrance of the old building, and Brentford lingered on the pavement until he heard the clicking in the bolts of the steel door, so that he knew Vera to be safe inside.

Meanwhile Vera had closed the door behind her and satisfied herself that all was well. Doubtless Garnstone had long since retired, so that to all practical purposes Vera had the flat to herself. She would not seek her bedroom yet for sleep was far away. She would go into the library and read for a time.

Five minutes later a cry rang out a cry so loud that it might have been heard in the street. It reached the ears of Gunter in his bedroom, and brought him to his feet. Scrambling into his clothes he raced up the stairs. Then the cry again—-one word:

"Murder."