The Voice in the Fog - Page 85/93

Meanwhile the whirligig had gone about violently after this fashion.

Forbes, wondering mightily, procured his automatics and gave one to his

impatient friend.

"What's the row, Crawffy?"

"Be as silent as you can," said Crawford. "Follow me. We may be too

late."

"Anywhere you say."

"The door will be locked. We'll creep around the upper veranda and

enter by opposite windows. You keep your eye on the valet. Don't be

afraid to shoot if it's necessary."

"What the deuce . . . !"

"Come!"

"But where?"

"Lord Monckton's room."

Blindly and confidently Forbes went out the rear window of the

corridor, while Crawford made for the front. They crept soundlessly

forward. Lord Monckton? What was up? Shoot the valet if necessary!

All right; Crawford knew what he was doing. He generally did. Through

his window Forbes saw two men packing suit-cases furiously. The moment

Crawford entered the room, Forbes did likewise, without the least idea

what it was all about.

"Put up your hands!" said Crawford quietly.

Master and man came about face.

"H'm! The dyed beard and stained skin might fool any one but me,

Mason."

Mason! Forbes' hand shook violently.

"I have seen you with a beard before, in the days when we hadn't time

for razors. I knew you the instant I laid eyes on you. Now, then, a

few words. I do not care to stand in your debt. Haggerty is

down-stairs. Upon two occasions you saved my life . . . Keep your eye

on your man, Forbes! . . . Twice you saved my life. I'm going to give

you a chance in return. An hour's start, perhaps. Forbes, come over

to me. That's it. Give me the automatic. There. Now, go through

their pockets carefully, and put everything in your own. Leave the

money. Mason, a boat leaves to-morrow noon for Liverpool. I'll ship

your trunks and grips to the American Express Company there. Do you

understand? If I ever see you again, I shan't lift a finger to save

you."

The late Lord Henry Monckton shrugged. He had not lived intimately

with this quiet-voiced man for ten years without having acquired the

knowledge that he never wasted words.

"You're a dangerously clever man, Mason. I noted at dinner that in

some manner you had destroyed Haggerty's photograph of your

finger-tips. But I recognize you, and know you--your gestures, the

turn of your head, every little mannerism. And if you do not do as I

bid, I'll take my oath in court as to your identity. Besides,"--with a

nod toward the suitcases--"if you're not the man, why this hurry? An

hour. I see, fortunately, you have already changed your clothes. Be

off!"