The Secret Adversary
she’s got a life-belt on her, and is being hustled into a boat, with
a well-drilled lot of artistes doing the hysterical stunt on deck,
why--she ought to be right back where she was in May, 1915. How’s that
for the bare outline?”
Dr. Hall looked at Julius. Everything that he was for the moment
incapable of saying was eloquent in that look.
“No,” said Julius, in answer to it, “I’m not crazy. The thing’s
perfectly possible. It’s done every day in the States for the movies.
Haven’t you seen trains in collision on the screen? What’s the
difference between buying up a train and buying up a liner? Get the
properties and you can go right ahead!”
Dr. Hall found his voice.
“But the expense, my dear sir.” His voice rose. “The expense! It will be
_colossal!_”
“Money doesn’t worry me any,” explained Julius simply.
Dr. Hall turned an appealing face to Sir James, who smiled slightly.
“Mr. Hersheimmer is very well off--very well off indeed.”
The doctor’s glance came back to Julius with a new and subtle quality in
it. This was no longer an eccentric young fellow with a habit of falling
off trees. The doctor’s eyes held the deference accorded to a really
rich man.
“Very remarkable plan. Very remarkable,” he murmured. “The movies--of
course! Your American word for the kinema. Very interesting. I fear we
are perhaps a little behind the times over here in our methods. And you
really mean to carry out this remarkable plan of yours.”
“You bet your bottom dollar I do.”
The doctor believed him--which was a tribute to his nationality. If an
Englishman had suggested such a thing, he would have had grave doubts as
to his sanity.
“I cannot guarantee a cure,” he pointed out. “Perhaps I ought to make
that quite clear.”
“Sure, that’s all right,” said Julius. “You just trot out Jane, and
leave the rest to me.”
“Jane?”
“Miss Janet Vandemeyer, then. Can we get on the long distance to your
place right away, and ask them to send her up; or shall I run down and
fetch her in my car?”
The doctor stared.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Hersheimmer. I thought you understood.”
“Understood what?”
“That Miss Vandemeyer is no longer under my care.”
CHAPTER XV. TUPPENCE RECEIVES A PROPOSAL
JULIUS sprang up.
“What?”
“I thought you were aware of that.”
“When did she leave?”
“Let me see. To-day is Monday, is it not? It must have been last
Wednesday--why, surely--yes, it was the same evening that you--er--fell
out of my tree.”
“That evening? Before, or after?”
“Let me see--oh yes, afterwards. A very urgent message arrived from Mrs.
Vandemeyer. The young lady and the nurse who was in charge of her left
by the night train.”
Julius sank back again into his chair.
“Nurse Edith--left with a patient--I remember,” he muttered. “My God, to
have been so near!”
Dr. Hall looked bewildered.
“I don’t understand. Is the young lady not with her aunt, after all?”
Tuppence shook her head. She was about to speak when a warning glance
from Sir James made her hold her tongue. The lawyer rose.
“I’m much obliged to you, Hall. We’re very grateful for all you’ve
told us. I’m afraid we’re now in the position of having to track Miss
Vandemeyer anew. What about the nurse who accompanied her; I suppose you
don’t know where she is?”
The doctor shook his head.
“We’ve not heard from her, as it happens. I understood she was to remain
with Miss Vandemeyer for a while. But what can have happened? Surely the
girl has not been kidnapped.”
“That remains to be seen,” said Sir James gravely.
The other hesitated.
“You do not think I ought to go to the police?”
“No, no. In all probability the young lady is with other relations.”
The doctor was not completely satisfied, but he saw that Sir James was
determined to say no more, and realized that to try and extract
more information from the famous K.C. would be mere waste of labour.
Accordingly, he wished them goodbye, and they left the hotel. For a few
minutes they stood by the car talking.
“How maddening,” cried Tuppence. “To think that Julius must have been
actually under the same roof with her for a few hours.”
“I was a darned idiot,” muttered Julius gloomily.
“You couldn’t know,” Tuppence consoled him. “Could he?” She appealed to
Sir James.
“I should advise you not to worry,” said the latter kindly. “No use
crying over spilt milk, you know.”
“The great thing is what to do next,” added Tuppence the practical.
Sir James shrugged his shoulders.
“You might advertise for the nurse who accompanied the girl. That is
the only course I can suggest, and I must confess I do not hope for much
result. Otherwise there is nothing to be done.”
“Nothing?” said Tuppence blankly. “And--Tommy?”
“We must hope for the best,” said Sir James. “Oh yes, we must go on
hoping.”
But over her downcast head his eyes met Julius’s, and almost
imperceptibly he shook his head. Julius understood. The lawyer
considered the case hopeless. The young American’s face grew grave. Sir
James took Tuppence’s hand.
“You must let me know if anything further comes to light. Letters will
always be forwarded.”
Tuppence stared at him blankly.
“You are going away?”
“I told you. Don’t you remember? To Scotland.”
“Yes, but I thought----” The girl hesitated.
Sir James shrugged his shoulders.
“My dear young lady, I can do nothing more, I fear. Our clues have all
ended in thin air. You can take my word for it that there is nothing
more to be done. If anything should arise, I shall be glad to advise you
in any way I can.”
His words gave Tuppence an extraordinarily desolate feeling.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Anyway, thank you very much for
trying to help us. Good-bye.”
Julius was bending over the car. A momentary pity came into Sir James’s
keen eyes, as he gazed into the girl’s downcast face.
“Don’t be too disconsolate, Miss Tuppence,” he said in a low voice.
“Remember, holiday-time isn’t always all playtime. One sometimes manages
to put in some work as well.”
Something in his tone made Tuppence glance up sharply. He shook his head
with a smile.
“No, I shan’t say any more. Great mistake to say too much. Remember
that. Never tell all you know--not even to the person you know best.
Understand? Good-bye.”
He strode away. Tuppence stared after him. She was beginning to
understand Sir James’s methods. Once before he had thrown her a hint
in the same careless fashion. Was this a hint? What exactly lay
behind those last brief words? Did he mean that, after all, he had not
abandoned the case; that, secretly, he would be working on it still
while----
Her meditations were interrupted by Julius, who adjured her to “get
right in.”
“You’re looking kind of thoughtful,” he remarked as they started off.
“Did the old guy say anything more?”
Tuppence opened her mouth impulsively, and then shut it again. Sir
James’s words sounded in her ears: “Never tell all you know--not even
to the person you know best.” And like a flash there came into her mind
another memory. Julius before the safe in the flat, her own question and
the pause before his reply, “Nothing.” Was there really nothing? Or
had he found something he wished to keep to himself? If he could make a
reservation, so could she.
“Nothing particular,” she replied.
She felt rather than saw Julius throw a sideways glance at her.
“Say, shall we go for a spin in the park?”
“If you like.”
For a while they ran on under the trees in silence. It was a beautiful
day. The keen rush through the air brought a new exhilaration to
Tuppence.
“Say, Miss Tuppence, do you think I’m ever going to find Jane?”
Julius spoke in a discouraged voice. The mood was so alien to him that
Tuppence turned and stared at him in surprise. He nodded.
“That’s so. I’m getting down and out over the business. Sir James to-day
hadn’t got any hope at all, I could see that. I don’t like him--we don’t
gee together somehow--but he’s pretty cute, and I guess he wouldn’t quit
if there was any chance of success--now, would he?”
Tuppence felt rather uncomfortable, but clinging to her belief that
Julius also had withheld something from her, she remained firm.
“He suggested advertising for the nurse,” she reminded him.
“Yes, with a ‘forlorn hope’ flavour to his voice! No--I’m about fed up.
I’ve half a mind to go back to the States right away.”
“Oh no!” cried Tuppence. “We’ve got to find Tommy.”
“I sure forgot Beresford,” said Julius contritely. “That’s so. We must
find him. But after--well, I’ve been day-dreaming ever since I started
on this trip--and these dreams are rotten poor business. I’m quit of
them. Say, Miss Tuppence, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“Yes?”
“You and Beresford. What about it?”
“I don’t understand you,” replied Tuppence with dignity, adding rather
inconsequently: “And, anyway, you’re wrong!”
“Not got a sort of kindly feeling for one another?”
“Certainly not,” said Tuppence with warmth. “Tommy and I are
friends--nothing more.”
“I guess every pair of lovers has said that sometime or another,”
observed Julius.
“Nonsense!” snapped Tuppence. “Do I look the sort of girl that’s always
falling in love with every man she meets?”
“You do not. You look the sort of girl that’s mighty often getting
fallen in love with!”
“Oh!” said Tuppence, rather taken aback. “That’s a compliment, I
suppose?”
“Sure. Now let’s get down to this. Supposing we never find Beresford
and--and----”
“All right--say it! I can face facts. Supposing he’s--dead! Well?”
“And all this business fiddles out. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” said Tuppence forlornly.
“You’ll be darned lonesome, you poor kid.”
“I shall be all right,” snapped Tuppence with her usual resentment of
any kind of pity.
“What about marriage?” inquired Julius. “Got any views on the subject?”
“I intend to marry, of course,” replied Tuppence. “That is, if”--she
paused, knew a momentary longing to draw back, and then stuck to her
guns bravely--“I can find some one rich enough to make it worth my
while. That’s frank, isn’t it? I dare say you despise me for it.”
“I never despise business instinct,” said Julius. “What particular
figure have you in mind?”
“Figure?” asked Tuppence, puzzled. “Do you mean tall or short?”
“No. Sum--income.”
“Oh, I--I haven’t quite worked that out.”
“What about me?”
_“You?”_
“Sure thing.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!”
“Why not?”
“I tell you I couldn’t.”
“Again, why not?”
“It would seem so unfair.”
“I don’t see anything unfair about it. I call your bluff, that’s all. I
admire you immensely, Miss Tuppence, more than any girl I’ve ever met.
You’re so darned plucky. I’d just love to give you a real, rattling good
time. Say the word, and we’ll run round right away to some high-class
jeweller, and fix up the ring business.”
“I can’t,” gasped Tuppence.
“Because of Beresford?”
“No, no, _no!_”
“Well then?”
Tuppence merely continued to shake her head violently.
“You can’t reasonably expect more dollars than I’ve got.”
“Oh, it isn’t that,” gasped Tuppence with an almost hysterical laugh.
“But thanking you very much, and all that, I think I’d better say no.”
“I’d be obliged if you’d do me the favour to think it over until
to-morrow.”
“It’s no use.”
“Still, I guess we’ll leave it like that.”
“Very well,” said Tuppence meekly.
Neither of them spoke again until they reached the _Ritz_.
Tuppence went upstairs to her room. She felt morally battered to the
ground after her conflict with Julius’s vigorous personality. Sitting
down in front of the glass, she stared at her own reflection for some
minutes.
“Fool,” murmured Tuppence at length, making a grimace. “Little fool.
Everything you want--everything you’ve ever hoped for, and you go and