The Four Faces

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The mysterious affair in Grafton Street had been arranged--they went on
to say when threatened by Albeury with arrest if they refused to tell
everything--by Hugesson Gastrell and two accomplices, the two men with
whom Osborne had entered into conversation on the night of Gastrell's
reception in Cumberland Place, and it was a member of the gang, whose
name I had not heard before--the sole occupant of the house at the
time--who had questioned Osborne in the dark. Upon the unexpected
arrival of the police at Grafton Street this man had clambered through a
skylight in the roof, crawled along the roofs of several houses, and
there remained hidden until nightfall, when he had escaped down a
"thieves' ladder," which is made of silk rope and so contrived that upon
the thief's reaching the ground he can detach it from the chimney-stack
to which it has been fastened. Jasmine Gastrell herself it was who had
sent Dulcie the telegram signed with my name, her intention being to
decoy me into the Grafton Street house, where I should have shared
Osborne's unpleasant experience. It was Gastrell who had murdered
Churchill. Who had murdered Preston on board the boat, they declared
they didn't know, nor could they say for certain who had inserted in the
newspaper the cypher messages disentangled by Dick, for Gastrell,
Stapleton, Jasmine Gastrell, and other leaders of the gang were in the
habit of communicating with their crowd of confederates by means of
secret codes. Incidentally they mentioned that Connie Stapleton was in
reality Gastrell's wife, and that Jasmine was his mistress, though
Harold Logan, found in the hiding-hole at Holt, had been madly in
love with her.

"There," I said, turning to Jack Osborne as Albeury ended his
cross-examination, "now you've got it all in black and white. And that's
the woman you've been fooling with and say you're going to marry--not
merely an adventuress, but a criminal who has herself instigated common
burglaries and has connived at and been an accessory to murders! You
must be mad, Jack--stark, staring. For Heaven's sake get over your
absurd infatuation."

"It's not 'infatuation' on my side only, Mike," he answered, with a
curious look that came near to being pathetic. "Jasmine is in love with
me--she really is. It sounds absurd, I know, under the circumstances,
but you know what women are and the extraordinary attachments they
sometimes form--yes, even the worst of them. She's promised to start
afresh, lead a straight life, if only I'll marry her; she has indeed,
and, what's more, she'll do it."

I heard Albeury snort, and even the scoundrels, who had stood by looking
on and listening, grinned.

"In forty-eight hours she'll be arrested and sent to jail," I said
calmly. "Don't be such an utter idiot, Jack!"

He sprang to his feet.

"Jasmine arrested!" he cried. "My God, she shan't be! I'll go to her
now! I'll warn her! I'll--"

"You'll do nothing of the sort," Albeury interrupted. "We've a trap set
for the whole crew, more than twenty of them in all, and if you warn
that woman she'll tell the rest and then--"

"Well, what?"

"Our plan will be defeated--more than that, the whole lot of us in this
room will be murdered as sure as I'm sitting here. You've heard the
truth about this gang from these two men. You know what a desperate
crowd they are; what they'd be like if they get their backs against the
wall you ought to be able to guess. Mr. Osborne, unless you pledge your
solemn word that you'll not warn Jasmine Gastrell, I shall be forced to
retain you here. Mr. Berrington has told you that I am an international
police detective. I have, under the circumstances, the power to
arrest you."

Osborne was evidently terribly upset. For a minute he sat, thinking
deeply. A glance showed how madly in love he obviously was with the
woman. Looking at him, I wondered whether what he had said could by any
possibility be true--that Jasmine Gastrell had really lost her heart to
him. The idea, at first thought, seemed absurd, even grotesque,
and yet--

Suddenly Jack looked up.

"Supposing," he said, speaking with great deliberation, "I pledge my
solemn word that I won't warn her of what you intend to do, or give her
any reason to suspect that such a plot exists, and that I undertake to
take her abroad with me and keep her there for one year from now--I
shall marry her at once--will you undertake that she shall leave the
country unmolested, and be left unmolested?"

I looked inquiringly at Albeury.

"Yes," he said at once. "I agree to that--we both agree to it; that's
so, Mr. Berrington?"

I nodded. A thing I liked about Albeury was that he made up his mind
almost instantly--that he never hesitated a moment.

"All the same, Mr. Osborne," he added quickly, "you must pardon my
saying that I consider you barely sane. It's no business of mine, I
know, but do for God's sake think what you are doing before you bind
yourself for life to such a woman--think of it, _for life!_"

"That's all right," Jack answered quietly. "Don't distress yourself. I
know exactly what I am doing, and--"

He paused, looking hard at Albeury.

"From now onward," he said slowly, "Jasmine Gastrell will be a wholly
different woman. I am going away with her at once, Albeury; to-morrow,
at latest--we may even leave to-night. We shall not return to England
for a year--that I promise you. For a year I shall see neither
Berrington nor you nor any of my friends. But in a year's time you and
Berrington and I, and Jasmine too, will meet again, and then--"

The telephone in the flat rang loudly. Albeury sprang up. An instant
later he was in the hall, preventing Simon from answering the call.
Quickly he returned, while the bell continued ringing.

"What's your code--Morse?" he said sharply to the men.

"No--secret," the elder man answered.

"Quick, then--go; if it's not for you, say so."

Carefully the man Albeury had cross-questioned unhooked the receiver. He
held it to his ear, and an instant later nodded. Then, with the pencil
which hung down by a string, he tapped the transmitter five times, with
measured beat.

Still holding the receiver to his ear, he conversed rapidly, by means of
taps, with his confederates at the other end. From where we stood, close
by, the taps at the other end were faintly audible. For nearly five
minutes this conversation by code continued. Then the man hung up the
receiver and faced us.

"I done it," he said. "Now me and my pal can get away from here at
once--and both of you," indicating Albeury and Osborne. "We shall meet
our pals who've watched this house--we shall meet them in Tottenham
Court Road in half an hour. I've told them we've done out Mr. Berrington
and his man. They think you both dead. It's a deal, then?"

"What's 'a deal'?" I asked.

"That you and your man stick in here until after the gang has been
taken."

"Yes, that's understood."

"And that you won't answer any bell, or knock, nor any telephone, nor
show any sign of life till after they've been took?"

"Of course. That's all arranged."

"Then we'll go, and--and good luck to you."

A few moments later we heard them going down the stairs. At once Albeury
called Osborne and myself into the room we had just left. Then he rang
for Simon.

Everything was quickly settled. Albeury was to go at once to Scotland
Yard and make arrangements for the arrest of the gang at Eldon Hall on
the following day but one; the arrival of the large body of detectives
that would be needed would have, as he explained, to be planned with the
greatest secrecy. After that he would catch the night express to the
north, and, on the following morning, himself call at Eldon Hall to see
Lord Cranmere. He would not alarm him in the least, he said. He would
tell him merely that there were suspicions of a proposed attempted
robbery, and ask leave to station detectives.

"And I'm to stay here with Simon, I suppose," I said despondently,
"until everything is finished."

"Not a bit of it," he answered. "Simon will stay here, and with him a
detective who will arrive to-night at midnight. We may need you at Eldon
Hall, and you must be there."

"Meet you there? But I have promised those men that--besides, supposing
that I am seen."

"As far as those scoundrels are concerned," he answered, "all they care
about is to save their wretched skins. You won't be seen, that I'll
guarantee, but none the less you must be there--it's absolutely
necessary. A closed car will await you at the Bond Street Tube station
at three o'clock to-morrow morning. Ask the driver no questions--he will
have his orders."

Some minutes later Albeury left us. Osborne had already gone. I told
Simon, who had been taken into our confidence, to pack a few necessaries
in a small bag for me, and then, seated alone, smoking a cigar for the
first time since my return, I allowed my thoughts to wander.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE FACES UNMASKED

Eldon Hall is one of those fine old country mansions so much admired,
and not infrequently coveted by, rich Americans who come over to
"do England."

It was the late Colonel North, of nitrate fame, who, upon visiting
Killeen Castle, in County Meath, with a view to buying the place for his
son, laconically observed: "Yes, it's not a bad old pile, but much too
ramshackle for my son. I could manage to live in it, I dare say, but if
my son buys it he'll pull it down and rebuild it," a remark which
tickled its owner a good deal.

Eldon Hall, in Northumberland, is fully as old and in some respects as
venerable a "pile" as Killeen Castle, though its architecture is wholly
different. Many attempts have been made to fix the date of Eldon--the
property has been in Lord Cranmere's family "from a period," as the
lawyers say, "so far back that the memory of man runneth not to the
contrary"--but experts differ considerably in their opinions.

This is due to the fact that though a portion of the old place is
undoubtedly Elizabethan, there yet are portions obviously of a much
earlier date. According to several authorities the earlier building must
at some period have been in part destroyed, most probably, they say, by
fire, the portion left intact being then deserted for generations, and,
towards the end of the sixteenth century, inhabited again, when, it is
further conjectured, the latter part must have been built. The effect
produced by this architectural medley is bizarre in the extreme, and
many and strange are the local legends and traditions connected with
Eldon Hall.

Situated on the slope of a gigantic ravine, twelve miles from the
nearest town, and eight from the nearest railway station, and the roads
in that part of Northumberland being far from good, until the advent of
the automobile Eldon Hall was looked upon by many as, in a sense,
inaccessible.

The house being far from the beaten track, few excursionists or trippers
came near the place in those days, and, indeed, even to-day the
sightseers who find their way there are for the most part Americans.
From the ridge of hills which shuts in and practically surrounds the
estate--hills all densely wooded--a panoramic and truly glorious view
can be obtained of the wonderfully picturesque scenery that unfolds
itself on all sides. Here, then, it was that, on the 28th day of
February, 1912, many hundreds of people from all parts of the country,
exclusive of local residents and of Lord Cranmere's own tenantry, were
to assemble for a week of festivity and rejoicing which, so rumour said,
would eclipse anything of the kind ever before seen at Eldon, which long
had been famous for its "outbursts" of entertainment.

Lord Cranmere's elder son, who was about to come of age, was like the
typical athletic young Briton. Tall, well-built, handsome, with plenty
of self-assurance and a wholly unaffected manner, he was worthy of his
father's pride. It was no exaggeration to say that everybody, rich and
poor alike, who came into contact with him, at once fell under the spell
of his attractive personality. A popular man himself Lord Cranmere had
always been, but his outlook upon life was somewhat narrow--in spite of
his opportunities he had seen little of life and had few interests
beyond fox-hunting, game-shooting and salmon-fishing. His eldest son, on
the contrary, had, from the age of eighteen, travelled constantly. Twice
already he had been round the world, and so quick was his power of
observation that at twenty-one he knew more of life and of things that
matter than many a man of his class and twice his age.

It was a glorious morning, the sun shining brightly, and strangely warm
for February, as the car in which I had travelled from London with three
companions, all of them Scotland Yard men, pulled up at a farmhouse
within two miles of Eldon. The journey from London, begun at three in
the morning on the previous day, had been broken at Skipton, near
Harrogate, where we had spent the night. Now, as the five of us--for our
driver was also, I discovered, a member of the force--walked briskly
along the narrow, winding lane in the direction of the park which
surrounds Eldon Hall, the morning air was refreshing, also intensely
invigorating.

We looked little enough like London men, and I doubt whether anybody
meeting us would for an instant have supposed that we were not what we
intended that we should look like, namely well-to-do tenantry of Lord
Cranmere's bound for the scene of the coming-of-age festivities. It was
barely nine o'clock, and at eleven the morning's sports were to begin.
Several carts overtook us, loaded with cheery fellows; some of whom
shouted rustic jests as they passed us by, which my companions were
quick to acknowledge. We had walked, I suppose, rather less than a mile,
when we suddenly came to a stile.

"Here's our short cut," the man who walked beside me said, as he stopped
abruptly. "Many's the time I've climbed over this stile more years ago
than I like to think, sir," he remarked lightly. "My father was
under-keeper to his lordship's father, and I've not been back since
twenty years. It's not a bit changed, though, the old place, not a bit,
I'm going, when I retire on my pension, to live down here again. I want
to leave my bones where I was born, and where my father's and mother's
are. It's a fine country, this sir, not a county like it in the whole of
England," he added with enthusiasm. "And you see yonder cross-roads?
That's Clun Cross--there's said to be a highwayman buried at that
cross-roads with a stake pushed through his body."

"Clun Cross." I remembered the name at once. It was the name that had
appeared in one of the advertisements deciphered by Dick.

We made our way up the steep footpath which led across a cramped field.
Now we were on the boundary of a thickly underwooded cover.

"There's not a tree in this wood I don't remember," he said, looking
about him as we scrambled up the bridle path. Bracken up to our waists
was on both sides, and it grew and hung over so thickly that the path
was barely visible. As we reached the top of the track he gave a low
whistle. Instantly the whistle was answered. A moment later half a dozen
men rose up out of the undergrowth.

At the foot of a clump of pine trees in the middle of the wood, we lay
down to confer. Then it was I learned, for the first time, something of
the line of action the police had decided to adopt.

Forty police officers in various disguises, the majority dressed to look
like the tenantry in their holiday clothes, were, it seemed, concealed
in the various covers, in addition to a dozen disguised as labourers,
stationed in fields beside the roads leading to Eldon Hall.

Besides these were fifteen officers, guests to all appearance, who would
arrive with the other guests and mingle with them freely. There were
also eight men disguised as hired waiters, who would help the servants
below stairs in the Hall, and five female detectives assisting the maids
in their work.

"You've got the revolver I gave you?" the gamekeeper's son said, turning
to me suddenly. His name, he had told me, was Ross.

"Yes, though I all but forgot it."

"Let me see it," he said.

I produced it from my pocket, and handed it over.

"I thought so!" he exclaimed. "Not loaded." He loaded it with the
cartridges I gave him, then gave it back to me.

Half an hour passed. One by one the men had risen and wandered away. Now
only three remained. Ten minutes later two more rose and went, leaving
me alone with Ross. His reminiscences of game-keeping--a calling he
seemed still to love--and of the former Lord Cranmere and his relations
and his friends, also his experiences during the eighteen years he had
been in the police force, were interesting to listen to. Brighter and
brighter the sun shone. The weather was almost spring-like and no breath
of wind stirred. Half a mile or so away, in the valley far beneath us,
well-dressed men and women sauntered in the gardens and out upon the
lawns. Larger and larger grew the number of these guests. From varying
distances came the sound of cars rapidly approaching. In the broad, flat
meadow, far down to our right, sports of different sorts were in
progress. Beyond them were swings and similar attractions where children
in their hundreds thronged and clustered. In all directions flew flags
and bunting, while the sharp reports of the shooting-gallery rifles were
audible above the blare of the roundabouts' steam organs.

Ross pulled out his field glass, and, kneeling up in the deep bracken,
focussed the crowds in turn. It was now past noon. From the lawn facing
the house the strains of a Strauss valse, played by an excellent band,
floated up to where we knelt, though the racket of the steam organs
clashed with it to some extent.

Slowly the time crept on. Longer and longer grew the approaching queue
of cars. In one field alone, set aside as a garage, I counted over a
hundred. Others were left out in the stable yards. Others could be seen,
deserted by the roadsides. Beyond the band upon the lawn mammoth
marquees had been erected, in which lunch for the vast concourse would
presently be served. Already servants in their dozens hurried in and out
as they made ready for the feast.

"About the queerest job I've ever had a hand in, this is," Ross observed
presently, lowering his glass. "What do you make of it, Mr. Berrington?"

"Nothing as yet," I answered. "What puzzles me is--why did they want to
bring me here?"

Ross chuckled.

"He's most likely got some reason," he presently murmured. "I don't
suppose Albeury'd fetch you here for your health."

Again he focussed his glass. Now the people were gradually drifting.
Slowly the crowds began to surge in the direction where the tents stood.
Now the tents were filling fast. Once more the band was playing.
Everyone seemed happy. Joy and laughter were in the air. Engrossed in
the panorama which interested me considerably, all thought of my reasons
for being there had for the moment faded from my mind, and--"

"Hark!" Ross exclaimed.

He remained silent, listening.

"What did you hear?" I asked, when half a minute had passed.

"Didn't you hear it?"

"No. What?"

"That buzzing sound. It wasn't a car, I'm certain. I believe it was
a--there, listen!"

I heard it now, distinctly. Away to our right it sounded, high in the
air, apparently; a strange, humming noise.

"An aeroplane?"

He nodded.

Quickly the sound increased in volume. Now we saw that the crowds down
in the valley had heard it. They were gazing up in the sky, away to our
right. Now they were getting excited. Like ants they hurried about. Out
of the tents they swarmed, like bees out of a hive that has been stirred
up with a stick. And now out of the house, too, they came
hurrying--guests, men and maidservants, hired helpers, everybody.

The humming grew louder and louder.

"'Scot! What an idea!"

"Idea?" I exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"We'd a rumour before leaving town that something unexpected and
startling might occur in connection with this affair. This is it, you
may depend."

Still I was perplexed.

"I don't follow your line of thought," I said. "What can an aeroplane
have to do with the gang, or they with it? They wouldn't come down in an
aeroplane to commit a robbery, surely?"

He looked at me, as I thought, pityingly, as though sorry for my lack of
imagination, or intelligence, or both.

Now everybody was rushing about; all were hurrying in one direction; a
few later stragglers still came stumbling out of the house, running as
fast as their legs would carry them. The humming sounded just above our
heads. Looking up, we suddenly saw the aeroplane.

A large biplane, containing two passengers, it passed not thirty feet
above us, flying horizontally in a straight line. Now it descended a
little way, then slowly began to circle. At that moment we heard a shot,
fired somewhere in the woods.

"Our signal," Ross murmured. "Are you ready to go?"

"Go where?"

"You'll see."

The aeroplane was descending rapidly. Almost immediately beneath it was
gathered a dense crowd. Looking through Ross's glass, I saw one of the
passengers waving to the crowd to clear out of the way. A moment later,
and the biplane was dashing straight at the people beneath.

"Quick! My glass."

I handed it to him. Instantly he levelled it in the direction of the
house.

"See those men?" he said, pointing.

I turned in the direction he was looking. In the main road, just beyond
the house, two men seemed to be busy with a large car. As I looked, a
third man appeared in the roadway, walking quickly towards them. He
stepped into the car behind the one where the two men already were, and,
crouching, was at once lost to sight.

"Come--quickly!" Ross exclaimed. "You see the idea now? That aeroplane
arrival is a ruse to distract everybody's attention. There's never been
an aeroplane up here before. This is the first time most of that crowd,
except the guests, have ever seen one. When we get into the house you'll
find it completely deserted--or apparently so. But some of the gang will
be busy there, that you may depend upon--our men are already there."

With all speed we scrambled through the bracken and down the steep slope
towards the house. In five minutes or less we were within fifty yards of
Eldon Hall.

The back door stood wide open. Entering cautiously, we found ourselves
in the kitchen premises. Kitchen, pantry, every room and the
stone-flagged passages were deserted. A moment or two later we pushed
open a spring door, to find ourselves in the hall. Nobody was there
either, and the front door stood ajar.

"Off with your boots--quick!"

A glance into the various downstair rooms, all of which were deserted,
then up the front stairs we crept in our stockinged feet. On the landing
two men stepped noiselessly out of a doorway. Both, I saw, were
detectives in rubber shoes.

"You know the men of the gang by sight?" one of them whispered, as he
stood beside me.

"Some of them," I answered.

"And they know who you are, we understand."

"Yes."

"Then if you meet one--shoot! He'll shoot you if you don't shoot first."

My hand trembled with excitement as I clutched the pistol in my pocket.
My mouth was dry. I could hear my heart thumping. Cautiously I followed
Ross along the corridor.

Suddenly a loud report almost deafened me. At the same instant Ross fell
forward on to his face, with a hideous crash--I can hear it now as I
think of it. A moment later a man dashed past me, and tore furiously
down the stairs. Springing after him I fired wildly as he
ran--once--twice. I had missed him and he was gone. In one of the rooms
I could distinctly hear sounds of a scuffle. There were blows, some
oaths and a muffled groan. Now the house was suddenly in uproar. The
deafening sound of several shots echoed along the corridors. Two men
were running towards me. Wildly I flung out my arm, the revolver in my
hand aimed point blank at one of them, and then--

Something struck me from behind, a fearful blow, and, stumbling, I lost
consciousness.

* * * * *

I was in a room, almost in darkness. Like shadows two figures moved
noiselessly about. They were figures I didn't recognize. My head ached
fearfully. Where was I? What had happened? I remember groaning feebly,
and seeing the two figures quickly turn towards me.

Again all was blank.

CONCLUSION

It was broad daylight now, but the blinds were all pulled down. I was in
the same room; my head felt on fire. Never had I suffered so terribly.
Never, I hope and trust, shall I suffer so again. A woman beside the bed
gently held my wrist--a nurse.

Something soothing was passed between my lips. It relieved me. I felt
better.

Many days passed before I became convalescent--dark days of nightmare,
hideous days of pain. A month elapsed before I was allowed to ask
questions concerning that awful day and all that had taken place.

Three of the detectives had been shot dead--poor Ross had been the first
victim. Five had been seriously wounded. Several others had been
injured. But the entire gang of The Four Faces had finally been
captured. Some had been arrested in the house, red-handed; among these
were Connie Stapleton and Doris Lorrimer--guests at Eldon for the week,
they had been discovered in Mrs. Stapleton's bedroom in the act of
packing into a bag jewellery belonging to Lord and Lady Cranmere. Others
had been run down in the woods. Several had been arrested on suspicion
at Clun Cross, and upon them had been found evidence proving their
identity. Six cars had been held up and their occupants taken
into custody.

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