CLOWNS AND CRIMINALS - Complete Series (Thriller Classics). E. Phillips Oppenheim

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СКАЧАТЬ who was crossing the hall.

      “My dear fellow,” he said, “do tell me the name of your hatter in London. Delions failed me at the last moment, and I have not a hat fit for the ceremony to-morrow.”

      “I’ll lend you half-a-dozen, if you can wear them,” Lord Sotherst answered, smiling. “The governor’s sure to have plenty, too.”

      Sogrange touched his head with a smile.

      “Alas!” he said. “My head is small, even for a Frenchman’s. Imagine me—otherwise, I trust, suitably attired—walking to the church to-morrow in a hat which came to my ears!”

      Lord Sotherst laughed.

      “Scotts will do you all right,” he said. “You can telephone.”

      “I shall send my man up,” Sogrange determined. “He can bring me back a selection. Tell me, at what hour is the first drive this morning, and are the places drawn yet?”

      “Come into the gun-room and we’ll see,” Lord Sotherst answered.

      Peter Ruff made his way to the back quarters of the house. In a little sitting-room he found the man he sought, sitting alone. Peter Ruff closed the door behind him.

      “John Dory,” he said, “I have come to have a few words with you.”

      The detective rose to his feet. He was in no pleasant mood. Though the telephone wires had been flashing their news every few minutes, it seemed, indeed, as though the car which they had chased had vanished into space.

      “What do you want to say to me?” he asked gruffly.

      “I want, if I can,” Peter Ruff said earnestly, “to do you a service.”

      Dory’s eyes glittered.

      “I think,” he said, “that I can do without your services.”

      “Don’t be foolish,” Peter Ruff said. “You are harboring a grievance against me which is purely an imaginary one. Now listen to the facts. You employ your wife—which after all, Dory, I think, was not quite the straight thing—to try and track down a young man named Spencer Fitzgerald, who was formerly, in a small way, a client of mine. I find your wife an agreeable companion—we become friends. Then I discover her object, and know that I am being fooled. The end of that little episode you remember. But tell me why should you bear me ill-will for defending my friend and myself?”

      The detective came slowly up to Peter Ruff. He took hold of the lapel of the other’s coat with his left hand, and his right hand was clenched. But Peter Ruff did not falter.

      “Listen to me,” said Dory. “I will tell you what grudge I bear against you. It was your entertainment of my wife which gave her the taste for luxury and for gadding about. Mind, I don’t blame you for that altogether, but there the fact remains. She left me. She went on the stage.”

      “Stop!” Peter Ruff said. “You must still hold me blameless. She wrote to me. I went out with her once. The only advice I gave her was to return to you. So far as I am concerned, I have treated her with the respect that I would have shown my own sister.”

      “You lie!” Dory cried, fiercely. “A month ago, I saw her come to your fiat. I watched for hours. She did not leave it—she did not leave it all that night!”

      “If you object to her visit,” Peter Ruff said quietly, “it is my wife whom you must blame.”

      John Dory relaxed his hand and took a quick step backwards.

      “Your wife?” he muttered.

      “Exactly!” Peter Ruff answered. “Maud—Mrs. Dory—called to see me; she was ill—she had lost her situation—she was even, I believe, faint and hungry. I was not present. My wife talked to her and was sorry for her. While the two women were there together, your wife fainted. She was put to bed in our one spare room, and she has been shown every attention and care. Tell me, how long is it since you were at home?”

      “Not for ten days,” Dory answered, bitterly. “Why?”

      “Because when you go back, you will find your wife there,” Peter Ruff answered. “She has given up the stage. Her one desire is to settle down and repay you for the trouble she has caused you. You needn’t believe me unless you like. Ask my wife. She is here. She will tell you.”

      Dory was overcome. He went back to his seat by the window, and he buried his face for a moment in his hands.

      “Ruff,” he said, “I don’t deserve this. I’ve had bad times lately, though. Everything has gone against me. I think I have been a bit careless, with the troubles at home and that.”

      “Stop!” Peter Ruff insisted. “Now I come to the immediate object of my visit to you. You have had some bad luck at headquarters. I know of it. I am going to help you to reinstate yourself brilliantly. With that, let us shake hands and bury all the soreness that there may be between us.”

      John Dory stared at his visitor.

      “Do you mean this?” he asked.

      “I do,” answered Peter. “Please do not think that I mean to make any reflection upon your skill. It is just a chance that I was able to see what you were not able to see. In an hour’s time, you shall restore the Clenarvon diamonds to Lord Clenarvon. You shall take the reward which he has just offered, of a thousand pounds. And I promise you that the manner in which you shall recover the jewels shall be such that you will be famous for a long time to come.”

      “You are a wonderful man!” said Dory, hoarsely. “Do you mean, then, that the jewels were not with those men in the motor-car?”

      “Of course not!” Peter Ruff answered. “But come along. The story will develop.”

      At half-past ten that morning, a motor-car turned out from the garage at Clenarvon Court, and made its way down the avenue. In it was a single passenger—the dark-faced Parisian valet of the Marquis de Sogrange. As the car left the avenue and struck into the main road, it was hailed by Peter Ruff and John Dory, who were walking together along the lane.

      “Say, my man,” Peter Ruff said, addressing the chauffeur, “are you going to the station?”

      “Yes, sir!” the man answered. “I am taking down the Marquis de Sogrange’s servant to catch the eleven o’clock train to town.”

      “You don’t mind giving us a lift?” Peter Ruff asked, already opening the door.

      “Certainly not, sir,” the man answered, touching his hat.

      Peter Ruff and John Dory stepped into the tonneau of the car. The man civilly lifted the hatbox from the seat, and made room for his enforced companions. Nevertheless, it was easy to see that he was not pleased.

      “There’s plenty of room here for three,” Peter Ruff said, cheerfully, as they sat on either side of him. “Drive slowly, please, chauffeur. Now, Mr. Lemprise,” Peter Ruff added, “we will trouble you to change places.”

      “What do you mean?” the man called out, suddenly pale as death.

      He СКАЧАТЬ