Читать книгу The Secret of the Sands - Fred M. White - Страница 8

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Dick Amory stared at the symbol with a fluttering at his heart. Beyond question those matches were not on the table when he had quitted the house with Bastable an hour or so before. He could not have arranged them mechanically in that odd fashion without remembering the fact. Besides, he had no such matches in his possession; he had not seen a sulphur match for years. So far as he knew, they were extinct in this country. He had seen such things in France, where the Government have a monopoly of the match industry, but not in England. The box lay on the mantelpiece, and had evidently been forgotten by the owner, who must have been here a little time before.

Possibly he was in the house at that moment. The mere suggestion of such a thing sent a creeping sensation up Amory's spine and set his scalp quivering. He would have to go upstairs and make a search. The whisky gave him fleeting courage. He must find out whether he was alone or not. If those matches represented some hidden sign, if they had some subtle menace, it certainly was not for him. He had never had anything to do with secret societies, though he had read of their doings in the papers. It suddenly flashed across his mind that other people besides himself might be making use of the Red House. It was the sort of place that desperate characters might use. Perhaps these people had been away upon some expedition; perhaps the matches were a message to somebody who might be expected back at any moment.

It was not a soothing suggestion, and Amory helped himself to more whisky. He hid his glass and bottle carefully again. If any visitor, should come it would be as well he should see nothing of his store of spirits.

Forcing himself to take action, he proceeded to search the house. He passed carefully from room to room, disturbing the dust on old furniture, but beyond a mouse or two and a big red-eyed rat he could detect no sign of a living thing. Somewhat easier in his mind, he replaced his candle on the table and glanced about him. The five matches forming the rude semblance of a dagger were still there, but no longer alone!

Dick gasped in astonishment. Instead of one sign, there were now three. They were laid out neatly side by side, looking just as innocent as if they had been the work of a child trying some simple puzzle with the little splinters of wood. But they drove the blood from Dick Amory's heart and left him helpless and terrified.

"I'm mad!" he murmured. "I've gone mad! Those matches exist only in my imagination. I shall come to my senses presently and laugh at myself."

But the matches were real enough. Amory pinched himself vigorously. He could feel the pain of it tingling up and down his leg. The fascination held him for a minute longer, till the sound of a footstep outside fell like a pistol-shot on his ear. The spell was broken. He jumped back into the passage and crouched almost breathless with fear behind an old oak chest. In a fashion almost mechanical he had blown out his candles and placed them over the fireplace. Beyond a doubt the police were on his track at last!

The needle-like rays of an electric torch flashed across the passage. Raising his head, Dick made out the figures of two men. One of them at least did not suggest the detective as he is pictured in popular imagination. He was rather tall and slim, wore a dark, military-looking moustache, fiercely twisted at the ends, and in his eye was a single glass. His companion had a face covered in hair, and his eyes were concealed by blue spectacles. Amory was conscious of a feeling of relief. There would be no necessity for the officers of the law to assume a disguise if they were after him in earnest, and there was no disguise about these intruders as far as he could see. The tall man was a foreigner, his companion English beyond doubt. There was something oddly familiar in his figure; Amory thought he had seen the little man before.

"Evidently designed by a fortunate chance for our special benefit," the tall man said. "On the brave and clever fate always bestows her smiles, my dear fellow. Now, here is a house where we shall never be disturbed. The curious tourist will give it a wide berth; no tramp or vendor of cheap sewing-machines will ever intrude upon our privacy. We shall be able to get it at our own price; indeed, Sir Horace will be only too glad to secure a tenant. Let us explore further."

The electric torch was turned away and the intruders vanished into the dining-room. The gay tones of the tall man came distinctly to Amory's ears.

"You will observe, my friend, that the house is partially furnished. Here are old things that some people would value highly; also behold a pair of candlesticks with half-consumed candles in them—to say nothing of a box of matches. They appear to be matches of a date singularly appropriate to the character of the house. Let us light them and look about us, my comrade. It was a fortunate chance that we found the back door open."

The listener cursed his carelessness under his breath.

"A pair of drawn curtains keeps the light from shining over the sandhills," the speaker proceeded, gaily. "Somebody has been smoking cigarettes within recent memory. Possibly Sir Horace Amory calls occasionally to inspect his property. Will you be so good as to place the candles on the table, and—by the powers, what is this?"

The last words rose almost to a scream; anger, fear, hate, and fury were strongly mingled. In spite of the risk he ran, Amory crept along the passage and looked into the dining-room. The candles were burning brightly on the table, and the tall stranger stood with his hand pressed to his forehead. His hat had fallen to the ground, and the look in his eyes fairly fascinated the watcher. The whole gamut of evil emotions chased one another rapidly across that pale and malignant face.

"What on earth is the matter?" the smaller man asked.

"Look at this," the other said, in a hissing whisper. "Look at this on the table. To you they convey nothing—to you they are so many matches laid out by somebody who has been trying one of those silly puzzles invented for the amusement of fools. Would to Heaven they were! So there are three of them upon my track! I thought I had tricked them nicely; I was idiot enough to imagine I had done with them for ever. And all the time they have been close on my heels, all the time are watching my every movement. They even knew that I was coming here to-night. Why, I didn't know myself till an hour ago; I told nobody but you, and you have not been out of my presence since."

"What are you muttering about?" the little man asked.

The foreigner pulled himself together and smiled. All the same, his face was twitching, as Amory could see as he stood in the shadow of the doorway.

"No matter," he said. "I'll tell you presently. You know what it is to be afraid of the police! Ah, my friend, there are worse things in the world than police. You don't know what it is to be possessed by devils as I am. That the fault is my own makes it all the worse. Still, it is only a warning, and I am safe for to-night, at any rate. Now, let us sit down, and consider our position. We are here to solve the secret of the sands. As a man who was born and bred here, you have the whole legend by heart."

"It is no legend," the little man said.

"So much the better. The thing is true, and we have to solve it. Not very far from us, and buried in the quicksands, lies one hundred thousand pounds, or its equivalent. With my scientific and your local knowledge it is going to be our business to get hold of that treasure. That it belongs to somebody else gives it greater zest in my eyes. But like most remunerative enterprises, this one requires money. We have no money, my dear fellow. At the moment I don't know where to turn for the cash to pay our hotel bill yonder at the end of the week. It is necessary that our credit should keep good. When we come to take this place we shall be asked for references. I have none. Why! we got into the club here by using the name of a man who dare not show his face in England, though nobody knows it but ourselves and the police. When we are asked for references, my idea is to pay a year's rent in advance."

"Only you don't happen to possess it," the little man sneered.

Amory, listening there, was racking his brain to discover where he had heard that voice before. The thing eluded him in the most irritating way. The face conveyed nothing to him, though the man had been bred and born in the neighbourhood of Shoremouth.

"Precisely," the foreigner admitted, gaily. "We are penniless. But we shall be in funds before long if you show a little courage. Now I have done you a good turn. I have baffled the police for you; I have made your position safe for some time to come. During the few days I spent here before you came I made several inquiries. I have been exploring the neighbourhood for likely spots to try my flying-machine—when it is made. Occasionally, I have trespassed on private property, and been reminded of the fact. I have then apologised in my most charming manner and withdrawn. But I have used my eyes, and I have learnt many useful facts. For instance, I have learned that in this locality there are some ten thousand pounds' worth of jewels to be had for the asking almost. They lie snugly to hand in the drawer of a dressing-table. The dressing-room window is only a few feet from the ground, and there is strong ivy all round it. The catch of the window is a common one that can be pushed back with a knife. Now what I do you say to that, my dear young friend?"

The little man murmured something that sounded like approbation.

"Well, they are ready for us whenever we like. But the woman, lovely woman, is as capricious as she is beautiful, and has a charming habit of changing her mind. She might suddenly take it into her head that the jewels are not safe."

"She might," the little man said. "To-morrow night——"

"No, my faithful friend and follower, not to-morrow night, but now. I didn't tell you before, because you might have funked it at the last moment. We are going almost at once, and I shall run up to London and get rid of the plunder. By this time to-morrow we shall be rolling in money. Kindly blow those candles out and follow me. All you have to do is to follow your instructions—there is not the slightest danger. Come on."

The lights were extinguished, the door closed behind the conspirators, and Amory was alone again. He was still puzzling over the mystery of the little man, and where he had heard that voice before. He was glad to be alone, glad to have the house to himself.

"Now, I wonder who these fellows are?" he muttered. "I wonder where they are going and where they are likely to find all those jewels ready to their hand. I know of nobody within dozen miles who would be so silly as——"

He jumped to his feet with a start. It all came with a staggering flash.

"Lady Amory's diamonds!" he cried aloud. "The gems that were to get me out of this infernal scrape! But any risk, any hazard——"

He jammed his hat on his head, and flung open the door. Then, heedless of personal danger, he ran across the sandhills towards his father's house.