The Great Secret

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In the act of springing out of bed the sound was repeated. This time
there was certainly no mistake about it, and I heard my name called--

"Mr. Courage! Mr. Courage!"

I opened the door. The landing was dimly lit, and I could see little else
except the figure of the woman who stood there. With one hand she was
leaning against the wall, her face was as white as a sheet; she wore a
hastily thrown on dressing-gown of dingy red. Her whole appearance was
that of a person convulsed with fright.

"Who are you?" I asked. "What do you want?"

Her lips parted. She seemed to have the intention of speaking, but no
words came. Her teeth began to chatter.

"Come," I said brusquely, "you must--why you are the nurse whom Dr. Rust
sent, aren't you?" I asked, suddenly recognizing her. "What is the matter
with you? Are you ill?"

All the time, although she was silent, her eyes, distended and
terror-stricken, were fixed upon me. She nodded feebly.

"Something--is wrong!" she faltered at last. "Come!"

She turned away, still with one hand holding on to the wall. She
evidently wished me to follow her.

"One moment," I said. "Wait while I put something on."

I turned back into my room and wrapped my dressing-gown around me. Then I
followed her along the corridor. She led the way to the room which had
been occupied by Leslie Guest. Outside the door she hesitated. She turned
and faced me abruptly. She was white to the lips. Her appearance was
horrible.

"I dare not go in!" she moaned. "I have been a nurse for fifteen years,
and I have never known anything like this!"

"Like what?" I asked, bewildered. "What is it that has happened?"

She shivered, but she did not answer me. I was beginning to feel
impatient.

"Are you hysterical?" I asked. "I wish you would try and tell me what is
the matter."

"Go in," she answered; "go in, and see--if you can see anything."

I opened the door and entered. The room was dimly lit by a lamp, placed
on the table near the window. Upon the bed, covered by a sheet, his
waxen-like face alone visible, was the body of the man who had been my
guest. Beyond, with the connecting door wide open, was the anteroom where
the nurse had been sleeping. Except for the ticking of a clock, there was
no sound to be heard; there was no sign anywhere of any disturbance or
disorder. I looked back at the nurse for an explanation.

"What is it that has upset you so?" I asked. "I can see nothing wrong."

She pointed to the bed.

"His eyes!" she murmured. "Go and look!"

I walked over to the bedside, and leaned reverently over the still
figure. Suddenly I felt as though I were turned to stone. The blood in my
veins ran cold, I staggered back. My gaze had been met with an upturned
glassy stare from a pair of wide-opened, deep-set eyes!

"Good God!" I cried, "his eyes are open!"

The nurse, who had gained a little courage, came to my side.

"I closed them myself," she whispered. "I closed them carefully. I
thought that I heard a noise and I came in. I lit a lamp and I saw--what
you can see! Fifteen years I have been a nurse, and I have watched by the
dead more times than I can count. But I have never known that happen!"

Once more I approached the bedside. One arm was drawn up a little from
under the clothes. I noticed its somewhat unnatural position and pointed
it out to the nurse.

"Did you leave it like that?" I asked.

Her teeth chattered.

"No!" she answered, "The arms were quite straight. Some one has been in
the room--or--"

"Or what?" Tasked.

"He must have moved," she whispered in an unnatural tone.

Once more I bent over the still form. The pupils of the wide-open eyes
were slightly dilated; they seemed to meet mine with a horrible, unseeing
directness. There was no sign about his waxen face or still, cold mouth
that life had lingered for a moment beyond the stated period. And yet
something of the nurse's terror was slowly becoming communicated to me. I
felt that I was in close company with mysterious things.

I turned towards the nurse.

"Go to your room," I said, "and shut yourself in there. I am going to
send for Dr. Rust. Understand it is you that are ill. I do not want a
word of this to be spoken of amongst the servants."

She passed into her room and closed the door without a word. I had a
telephone from my room to the stables, and in a few moments I had
succeeded in awakening one of the grooms.

"The nurse is ill," I told him. "Take a dog-cart and go down and fetch
Dr. Rust. Ask him to come back with you at once."

I heard his answer, and a few minutes later the sound of wheels in the
avenue. Then I put on my clothes, and going downstairs, fetched some
brandy and took it up to the nurse. She, too, was dressed; and, although
she was still pale, she had recovered her self-possession.

"I am very sorry to have been so foolish, sir," she said, declining the
brandy. "I have never had an experience like this before, and it rather
upset me."

"You think," I asked, "that he has lived, since--"

"I am sure of it," she answered. "His was a very peculiar illness, and I
know that it puzzled the doctor very much. It was just the sort of
illness to have led to a case of suspended animation."

"You think it possible," I asked, "that he is alive now?"

"It is quite possible," she answered, "but not very likely. He probably
died with the slight effort he made in moving his arm. I am quite willing
to go in and examine him, if you like, or would you prefer to wait until
the doctor comes?"

"We will wait," I answered. "He cannot be more than a few minutes."

Almost as I spoke, I heard the dog-cart returning. I hurried downstairs
and admitted the doctor. It was almost daybreak and very cold. A thin,
grey mist hung over the park; a few stars were still visible. Eastwards,
there was a faint break in the clouds.

"What's wrong?" he asked, as I closed the door behind him.

"Something very extraordinary, doctor," I answered, hurrying him
upstairs. "Come and hear what the nurse has to say."

He looked at me in a puzzled manner, but I hurried him upstairs. The
nurse met him on the landing. She whispered something in his ear, and
they entered the bedchamber together. I remained outside.

In about ten minutes the door was thrown open, and the doctor appeared
upon the threshold. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and there was a look
upon his face which I had never seen there before. He had the appearance
of a man who has been in touch with strange things.

"Some hot water," said he--"boiling, if possible. Don't ask me any
questions, there's a good fellow!"

I had already aroused some of the servants, telling them that the nurse
had been taken ill, and I was able to bring what he had asked for in a
few minutes. But when I returned with it and tried the handle of the
door, I found it locked. Rust opened it after I had knocked twice, and
took the can from me.

"Go away, there's a good fellow," he begged. "I will come to you as soon
as I can--as soon as there is anything to tell."

I obeyed him without demur. I went into my study, ordered some tea, and
tried to read. It must have been an hour before the door was opened, and
Rust appeared.

"Courage," he said, "I have some extraordinary news for you."

"I am quite prepared for it," I answered calmly.

"He is alive!"

I nodded.

"I judged as much."

"More than that! I believe he will recover!"

There was a short silence. I had never seen Rust so agitated.

"You don't seem to grasp quite all that this means," he continued. "For
the first time in my life, I have signed a certificate of death for a
living person!"

"You have signed the certificate?" I asked.

He nodded.

"The undertaker has it."

The maid entered just then with the tea. I ordered another cup for Rust,
and when it had arrived, I made him sit down opposite to me.

"His was exactly the kind of illness," he remarked thoughtfully, "to lead
to something of this sort. I am quite sure now, whatever Kauppmann's
friend may say, that his disease was not a natural one. He has been
suffering from some strange form of poisoning. It is the most interesting
case I have ever come in contact with. There were certain symptoms--"

"Rust," I interrupted, "forgive me, but I don't want to hear about
symptoms. I want to talk to you as man to man. We are old friends! You
must listen carefully to what I have to say."

Rust's good-humored, weather-beaten, little face was almost pitiful.

"You're going to pitch into me, of course," he remarked. "Well, I
suppose I deserve it. You may not believe it, but I can assure you
that ninety-nine out of every hundred medical men would have signed
the certificate in my case."

"I have no doubt of it," I answered. "That is not the matter I want to
discuss with you at all. There is something more serious, terribly
serious, behind all this. Frankly, if I did not know you so well, Rust, I
should offer you the biggest fee you had ever received in your life, to
leave the place this morning and be called to--Timbuctoo. As it is," I
continued more slowly, "I am going to appeal to you as a sportsman! I am
going to take you into my confidence as far as I dare. I want, if I can,
to justify a very extraordinary request."

Rust took off his spectacles and laid them upon the table.

"The request being--" he asked.

"That you start for the holiday you were speaking of the other day," I
said, "within twelve hours."

He glanced at me curiously. I think that he was beginning to wonder
whether I might not be the next person to need medical advice.

"Go on," he said. "I am prepared to listen at any rate...."

He listened. And at 10.30 that morning, he left Saxby--for the South
Coast.

CHAPTER XIX

AN AFFAIR OF STATE

My cousin met me at St. Pancras. I saw him before my own carriage had
reached the platform, peering into the window of every compartment
in his short-sighted way. He recognized me at last with a little wave of
the hand.

"Glad to see you, Hardross! These your things? We'll have a hansom. Where
are you staying?"

"At the club, if I can get a room," I answered. "I shall try there before
I go to an hotel, at any rate."

"Come and have some lunch first," Sir Gilbert said firmly. "You can see
about your room afterwards. Remember your appointment is at three
o'clock."

I acquiesced, and got into a cab with my cousin. I was perfectly aware
that he was almost consumed with curiosity. He scarcely waited until we
were off before he began.

"Hardross!" he asked, "what's up?"

"Nothing particular," I answered lamely.

"Rubbish!" he declared, "you are the last man in the world I should have
expected to see in town the second week in September! You haven't come
for nothing, have you? And then this interview with Lord Polloch. What on
earth can you have to say to the Prime Minister?"

"I'm afraid, Gilbert," I answered, "that I can't tell you--just yet. You
see it isn't my own affair at all. It's--another man's secret."

My cousin was palpably disappointed.

"Well," he said, a little curtly, "whatever sort of a secret it is, it
hasn't agreed with you very well. I never saw you look so seedy--and
years older too! What on earth have you been doing with yourself?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"I've had a cold," I said. "Got wet through shooting one day last week."

My cousin regarded me incredulously.

"A cold! You!" he remarked. "I like that! I don't believe you ever had
such a thing in your life!"

I leaned forward in the cab to look at the placards of the afternoon
papers.

"Any news in town?" I asked.

"None at all," Gilbert answered. "There's scarcely any one about. I'm off
to Hamburg to-morrow myself."

"And Lord Polloch?" I asked.

"He's off to Scotland to-night for a fortnight's golf. Afterwards I
believe he's going abroad. You must confess that your appearance here is
a little extraordinary. If I hadn't been on particularly good terms with
Polloch, I could not possibly have got you an interview. He's up to his
eyes in work, and as keen as a schoolboy on getting away for his
holiday."

"It's very good of you," I answered.

My cousin regarded me critically.

"You'll forgive my suggesting it, I'm sure, Hardross," he said, "but you
have got something particular to say to him, I suppose? These fellows
don't like being bothered about trifles. The responsibility is on my
shoulders, you see."

"I have something quite important to say to him," I declared. "In all
probability, he will give you a seat in the Cabinet for having arranged
the meeting."

Gilbert abandoned the subject for the moment. A sense of humor was not
amongst his characteristics, and I do not think that he approved
altogether of my levity. But later on, as we sat at luncheon, he returned
to it.

"Have you ever thought of Parliament, Hardross?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"One in the family," I murmured, "is sufficient."

"The diplomatic service," he remarked, "you are, of course, too old for."

"Naturally," I agreed; "as a matter of fact, I have no hankerings for
what you would call a career."

"And yet--" he began.

"And yet," I interrupted, "I am anxious for an interview with the Prime
Minister. I am afraid I cannot tell you very much, Gilbert, but I will
tell you this. Some rather important information has come into my
possession in a very curious fashion. I conceive it to be my duty to pass
it on to the government of this country. Lord Polloch can decide whether
or not it is of any real value. It is for this purpose that I am seeking
this interview with him. I tell you this much in confidence. I cannot
tell you more."

My cousin smiled in a somewhat superior manner.

"You have got a cheek," he said. "As though any information you could
pick up would be worth bothering Polloch with!"

I glanced at the clock and leaned back in my chair.

"Well," I said, "in about a quarter of an hour his Lordship will have an
opportunity of judging for himself. By the bye, Gilbert, do you mind
keeping what I have told you entirely to yourself?"

"You haven't told me anything," he grunted.

"I have told you enough to get me into pretty considerable trouble," I
remarked grimly. "Shall I see you later?"

"I shall wait till you return," he answered firmly. "I am rather anxious
to hear how you get on with the chief."

"I am a little anxious about it myself," I admitted, as we went out into
the hall.

I walked the short distance to Downing Street. The afternoon was
brilliantly fine, and the pavements were thronged with foot-passengers. I
passed down the club steps into what seemed to me to be a new world. I
did not recognize myself or my kinship with my fellow-creatures. For the
first time in my life, I was affected with forebodings. I scanned the
faces of the passers-by. I had an uneasy suspicion all the time that I
was watched. As I turned in to Downing Street, the feeling grew stronger.
There were several loiterers in the roadway. I watched them suspiciously.
The idea grew stronger within me that I should not be allowed to reach my
destination. I found myself measuring the distance, almost counting the
yards which separated me from that quiet, grey stone house, almost the
last in the street. It was with a sense of immense relief that I pushed
open the gate and found myself behind the high iron palings. A butler in
sombre black opened the door, almost before my hand had left the bell. I
was myself again immediately. My vague fears melted away. I handed in my
card, and explained that I had an appointment with Lord Polloch. In less
than five minutes I was ushered into his presence.

"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Courage," he said. "I understand that
you have some information which you wish to give me. I have exactly
twenty-five minutes to give you. Take that easy-chair and go ahead...."

In less than three-quarters of an hour, I was back in the club. I
found my cousin almost alone in the smoking-room. He looked up with
ill-suppressed eagerness as I entered.

"Well?"

I lit a cigarette and threw myself into an easy-chair.

"Quiet afternoon here?" I remarked.

"You saw Lord Polloch?"

I nodded.

"I was with him exactly twenty-five minutes," I answered.

"Well?" he repeated.

I called a waiter and ordered something to drink. I felt that I needed
it.

"My dear Gilbert," I said, "I will not affect to misunderstand you! You
want to know how Lord Polloch received me, what the nature of my business
with him was, and its final result. That is so, isn't it?"

"To a certain extent, yes!" he admitted; "as I was responsible for the
interview, I naturally feel some interest in it," he added stiffly.

"Lord Polloch was most civil," I assured him. "He thanked me very much
for coming to see him. He hoped that I would call again immediately on
his return from Scotland, and--I have no doubt that by this time he has
forgotten all about me."

"Your information, after all, then," Gilbert exclaimed, "was not really
important!"

"He did not appear to find it so," I admitted.

"I wonder," Gilbert said, looking at me curiously "what sort of a mare's
nest you have got hold of. Rather out of your line, this sort of thing,
isn't it?"

The walls of the club smoking-room seemed suddenly to break away. I was
looking out into the great work where men and women faced the whirlwinds,
and were torn away, struggling and fighting always, into the Juggernaut
of destruction. I looked into the quiet corners where the cowards lurked,
and I seemed to see my own empty place there.

"Oh! I don't know," I answered calmly. "We are all the slaves of
opportunity. Lord Polloch very courteously, but with little apparent
effort, has made me feel like a fool. Perhaps I am one! Perhaps Lord
Polloch is too much of an Englishman. That remains to be discovered."

"What do you mean by 'too much of an Englishman'?" Gilbert asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Too much self-confidence, too little belief in the possibility of the
unusual," I answered.

"Suppose you appoint me arbitrator," Gilbert suggested.

I shook my head.

"I cannot, Gilbert," I answered. "As I have said, the issue is between
Lord Polloch and myself, and I hope to Heaven that Lord Polloch is in the
right, or there will be trouble."

"You are extraordinarily mysterious," Gilbert remarked.

"I must seem so," I answered, "I cannot help it. Have a drink, Gilbert,
and wish me God speed!"

"Are you off back to Medchestershire to-night?" Gilbert asked.

I shook my head.

"No! but I thought of running over to the States next week."

Gilbert laid down his cigar, and looked at me anxiously.

"Have you seen a doctor lately, Hardross?" he asked.

"Not necessary," I answered. "I'm as fit as I can be!"

"Then will you tell me," he asked, "why, with the shooting just on, and
the hunting in full view, you are talking of going to America?"

"I've had a good many years of hunting and shooting and cricket and sport
of all sorts, Gilbert," I answered. "Perhaps I'm not quite so keen as I
was."

"If you are not going to America for sport," my cousin asked, "what are
you going for?"

I rose to my feet.

"Gilbert," I said, "it's no use. Some day or other you will know all
about it--perhaps very soon. But, for the present, I can tell you
nothing. I've stumbled into a queer place, and I've got to get out of it
somehow. Wish me good luck, old chap!" I added, holding out my hand;
"and--if anything should happen to me abroad--look after the old
place--it'll be yours, you know, every stick and stone."

Then I got away as soon as I could. Gilbert was by way of becoming
incoherent, and, so far as I was concerned, there was nothing more to be
said.

CHAPTER XX

TRAVELLING COMPANIONS

I locked the door of my state-room, and seated myself upon the edge of
the lower bunk with a little sigh of relief. The slow pounding of the
engines had commenced, the pulse of the great liner was beating, and
through the port-hole I could see the docks, with their line of people,
gliding past us. We were well out in the Mersey already.

"We're off, Guest!" I exclaimed, "and off safely, too, I think. Chuck
that now, there's a good fellow."

Guest was engaged in emptying the contents of one of my bags. He turned
slowly round and faced me, with a pair of my trousers upon his arm.

"I shall do nothing of the sort," he answered calmly. "I am here as your
servant, Courage, and your servant I intend to remain. We can't hope to
keep the thing up on the other side, if we are all the time drifting back
to our old relations. I wish I could make you understand this."

I opened the port-hole as far as it would go, and lit a cigarette.

"That's all very well," I said; "but I don't see any need to keep the
farce up in private, and I'm sure I can unpack my own things a thundering
sight better than you can."

"Very likely," he answered, "but you certainly won't do it. Can't you
understand that, unless we grow into our parts, they will never come
naturally to us? Besides, we may be watched. You cannot tell."

"The door is locked," I remarked dryly.

"For the moment, no doubt, we're all right," Guest answered; "but you
won't be able to lock it often upon the voyage. Remember that we are up
against a system with a thousand eyes and a thousand ears. It's no good
running risks. I am Peters, your man, and Peters I mean to be."

"Do you propose," I asked, "to have your meals in the servants' saloon?"

"Most certainly I do," was the curt answer. "I expect to make
acquaintances there who will be most useful. Did you get the passengers'
list?"

I drew it from my pocket. Guest came and looked over my shoulder.
Half-way down the list he pointed to a name.

"Mr. de Valentin and valet!" he murmured. "That is our friend. I
recognize the name. He has used it before! Now let us see."

Again his forefinger travelled down the list--again it paused.

"Mrs. Van Reinberg, and the Misses Van Reinberg! Ah!" he said, "that is
the lady whose acquaintance you must contrive to make."

"One of the court?" I asked,

He nodded.

"There are others, of course, but I do not recognize their names. They
will sort themselves up naturally enough. Now unlock that door, and go up
on deck. The stewards will be in directly for orders."

I rose and stretched out my hand towards the door. Suddenly, from
outside, an unexpected sound almost paralyzed me--the sharp, shrill
yapping of a small dog!

I felt the color leave my cheeks. Guest looked at me in amazement.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "You're not frightened of a toy
terrier, are you?"

I opened the door. Of course, my sudden fear had been absurd. I peered
out into the passage, and a little exclamation broke from my lips.
Sitting on his haunches just outside, his mouth open, his little, red
tongue hanging out, was a small Japanese spaniel. There may have been
thousands of others in the world, but that one I was very sure, from the
first, that I recognized, and I was equally sure that he recognized me. I
stared at him fascinated. His bead-like, black eyes blinked and blinked
again; and his teeth, like a row of ivory needles, gleamed white from his
red gums. He neither growled nor wagged his tail, but it seemed to me
that the expression of his aged, puckered-up little face was the
incarnation of malevolence. I pointed to him, and whispered hoarsely to
Guest:

"Her dog!"

"Whose?" he asked sharply.

"Miss Van Hoyt's," I answered.

"Rubbish!" he declared. "There are hundreds of dogs like that."

I shook my head.

"Never another in the wide world," I said. "Look how the little brute is
scowling at me!"

The bedroom steward came round the corner at that moment. I pointed to
the dog.

"I always understood that dogs were not permitted in the state-rooms,
steward," I remarked.

"They are not, sir," the man answered promptly. "The young lady to whom
this one belongs has a special permission; but he is not allowed to be
out alone. He must have run away."

There was the sound of rustling petticoats. A young woman in black came
hurrying down the passage. She caught up the dog without a word, and
hastened away.

"At what time would you like to be called, sir?" the man asked.

"Send me the bath-room steward, and I will let you know," I answered,
stepping back into the state-room.

"He'll be round in a few minutes, sir," the man answered, and passed on.

Guest leaned towards me. His eyes were bright and alert, and his manner
was perfectly composed. He was more used to such crises than I was. He
asked no question; he waited for me to speak.

"It was her maid!" I exclaimed. "I was sure of the dog."

"Miss Van Hoyt's?"

"Yes!"

He caught up the passengers list. There was no such name there.

"If it is she," he said quietly, "she is here to watch you! It proves
nothing else. I shall be seasick all the way over, and at New York we
must part. Go to the purser's office and find out, Courage. There is no
reason why you shouldn't. You are interested, of course?"

I nodded and left the state-room, but I had no need to visit the purser.
I met her face to face coming out of the saloon. If appearances were in
any way to be trusted, the meeting was as much a shock to her as to
me. She was wearing a thick veil, which partially obscured her features,
but I saw her stop short, and clutch at a pillar as though for support,
as she recognized me. If the amazement in her tone was counterfeited,
she was indeed an actress.

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