RGL e-Book Cover©
RGL e-Book Cover©
THE little man in the saddle-bag armchair remarked somewhat pompously that he had come for advice. He was under the impression that Beggarstaff dealt largely in this commodity.
"One quality only," Beggarstaff quoted, "—the best. You will find that my establishment deals only with the superior article. But you are quite wrong, sir, in your judgment on your daughter. She is merely inconsequent, and, I am sure, altogether charming. Picturesque figures are so sadly rare that any one of these adding to the gaiety of nations is always sure of a certain welcome. Your daughter—"
"Bless my soul," said the little man, "this is extraordinary! I am bound to admit that it is in connexion with my child that I am here to-day. If you knew who I am—"
Beggarstaff waived the suggestion aside. There was a pleasant smile on his face as he regarded the shabby little man with the red moustache seated opposite.
"I know you quite well, sir," he said. "The last time I had the pleasure of meeting you, you were in, so to speak, a larger way of business than you appear to be to-day. If your Majesty will pardon me, I will venture to point out—"
"Need we mention names?" the visitor asked.
"I think so," Beggarstaff said thoughtfully. "You see, it makes things so much easier. I may also say that my knowledge on the subject of European Courts and their little intrigues is extensive and peculiar. Now, say, for example, you are Valentine II, King of Asturia, and, like many other monarchs just now, you are having trouble with your family. There is the Princess Serena, for instance. I am not quite sure whether ladies of the Princess Serena type were invented by Anthony Hope, or whether they are the cause of his popularity. But any way the fact remains that the Princess in question is what I may be allowed to call a bit of a handful. Is not this so?"
"Oh, Lord, yes," he of Asturia said, with some show of irritation. "You appear to be a wonderful man, Mr. Beggarstaff, and quite as clever as they told me you are. I have consulted my ministers, and they cannot help me at all. As a kind of last resource, I came here in my private capacity to see if you would assist me. It will probably be no secret to you that the Princess Serena is in England. I tell you that King Lear was a proud progenitor compared to me."
"Your Majesty has my sympathy," Beggarstaff murmured, "especially as you have other daughters. You will permit me to assume that there is nothing really wrong about any of them?"
The ruler of Asturia hastened to assure Beggarstaff that he was perfectly correct in that respect. What the princesses principally suffered from was a combination of extraordinarily high spirits, allied with a perfect passion for adventure.
"Goneril and Regan," he explained,"—I mean my daughters Mary and Victoria—are but colourless creatures alongside their sister Serena. She recognises no authority. She does just as she likes, and nothing is too romantic for her taste. For instance, she disappeared the other day, and we found out later that, under an assumed name, she was attempting to lead a revolutionary party in Russia.
"At the present minute she is in England with a view to establishing a kind of sisterhood for the relief of indigent aliens. For the moment she is under the influence of an English priest whom she met in Geneva—a shining light among Christian Socialists I believe he is. The type is a new one to me; indeed, it was not thought of in my Oxford days."
"I know the brand," Beggarstaff said thoughtfully. "Clean- shaven, inclined to be athletic, generally has a couple of front teeth stopped with gold, and within recent memory has undergone an operation for appendicitis."
"Bless me," the King cried, "You must actually know the man! You have hit off his description to a nicety."
"Quite an easy matter," Beggarstaff said modestly. "No curate of the higher flight could be really in the van of fashion without a little experience in the way of appendicitis. But tell me, sir, what there is in this recent freak of the Princess's to give you such cause for alarm?"
"I was coming to that," the King explained. "As you are probably aware, my daughter is engaged to be married to Prince Leopold of Asturia Minor. Strange as it may seem, the girl is very much in love with Leopold, who is a strong man, well able to keep her in order—once they are married.
"As a matter of fact, the alliance is highly desirable for political reasons. To go further, I must explain to you that the marriage ceremony is actually fixed to take place next week. You can appreciate the feelings of a father who has a daughter like this to deal with. Prince Leopold is at present in Paris on business connected with her trousseau. I dare not tell him the truth; and that is why I am here this morning to place myself entirely in your hands.
"Violence I could not countenance for a moment, but you must devise some scheme for driving the Princess out of England. She must have a good fright, something that will appeal to her imagination and bring her to her senses, if only for a short time. Once she is married to Prince Leopold, I think I can confidently look forward to a little peace. Now, Mr. Beggarstaff, can you see your way to accomplish this most desirable consummation?"
Beggarstaff knitted his brows as if in deep thought. Presently a smile was allowed to play over his ingenuous countenance.
"I fancy I do see my way," he said. "If I remember rightly, the Princess holds rather extraordinary views on the subject of what Mr. Wemmick called 'portable property.' Just a little laxity as to the interpretation of meum and teum, if I may put so it. By the way, was not the Princess in England, staying with the Countess of Wimbledon, some two years ago?"
The King nodded, and Beggarstaff's smile deepened.
"I thought so," he said. "There was a little trouble at that time over some valuable family diamonds which were mistaken by the Princess as her own. We will put it down to what Mr. Galton calls 'the theory of heredity.' A long line of predatory ancestors is certain to leave its mark on a decadent generation like our own. I do not wish to wound you, sir, but have there not been occasions when you were requested to pay jewellers' bills for articles which the Princess had taken with her in a fit of absent-mindedness? A fashionable physician has invented a name for this kind of thing. Your Majesty has probably heard the word— 'kleptomania?'"
"That's it," the King cried eagerly. "You have hit it off exactly. But, tell me, does this little weakness of my daughter's character give you an inspiration?"
"It is the key of the whole comedy," Beggarstaff said. "Your daughter wants a wholesome fright; she wants to be convinced that her personal liberty is in peril; and in that condition of mind you can do what you like with her. I can promise your Majesty that this is safely accomplished; but the experiment will be a costly one. I don't think that I can see my way to settle the matter on a thoroughly satisfactory basis for less than a thousand guineas."
His Majesty of Asturia rose to the occasion like the fine sportsman that he was. Perhaps he had come prepared for something of the kind, for he laid a bundle of banknotes on the table.
"I think you will find ail you want there," he said. "In the first place, tell me what I have to do."
"Nothing whatever," Beggarstaff proceeded to explain. "That is, nothing beyond seeing my instructions carried out implicitly. You had better see the Princess. By the bye, I suppose she is not aware that you have followed her to England? No? So much the better. Go to her at once, and treat this last escapade as lightly as you can. Ignore the clean-shaven victim of appendicitis altogether. You had better hint that this is an excellent opportunity for the purchase of something valuable in the way of a wedding present. The present had better take the form of diamonds. Make an appointment for three o'clock this afternoon to meet your daughter at the establishment of Rossiter and Co., in Bond Street. By the way, the Princess has an attendant, of course. I presume it would be possible to enlist her on our side by the judicious outlay—"
"Not at all necessary," the King said, with some show of humour. "Countess Linda is only too anxious to get back home, seeing that she is engaged to a rich man of romantic tendencies and some desire in the direction of frequent variety. You may rely upon the countess."
"Then that is as good as settled," Beggarstaff cried gaily. "I don't think I need trouble your Majesty any further. You will make the appointment at Rossiter's for three o'clock, but at the same time there is not the slightest necessity for you to keep it. You can proceed to pack the Royal gripsack, and return to Asturia without delay. One tiling I can promise you: the Princess Serena will be on her way home by midnight, as fast as a special train and special steamer can carry her."
The King rose, and extended a moist, grateful palm to Beggar- staff. The regal tones shook with honest emotion. "You are a wonderful man, Mr. Beggarstaff," he said. "It is extraordinary that you should speak in tones of such perfect confidence. As to terms, if I may mention so indelicate a subject—"
"Not at all," Beggarstaff said. "I have taken a thousand guineas out of your pocket-book; and any balance that remains, after raiding the war-chest, will amply repay me for my trouble."
IT was shortly after two o'clock that Beggarstaff walked into the establishment of Rossiter & Co., and asked to see the proprietor. The Seer was attired in an immaculate grey frock suit, patent leathers, and a tie that was in itself a positive work of art. A polite assistant came forward and requested that Beggarstaff would walk into Mr. Rossiter's private office.
The establishment in question did a small but exclusive business with members of the aristocracy. Their profits were reputed to be large, but then, on the other hand, the credit they had to give was enormous. There were times when the head of the firm was hard put to it for a thousand pounds or so in ready cash, and this Beggarstaff knew, as indeed he knew most things connected with the West End of London.
Mr. Rossiter rose and bowed as Beggarstaff entered. His features indicated a mixture of curiosity and alarm.
"I hope there is nothing wrong, Mr. Beggarstaff!" he said. "No more American heiresses, I suppose? Another swindle like that and I should have to close my shop."
"Not to-day, Mr. Rossiter," Beggarstaff said gaily. "In the words of the immortal bard, I have come to put money in thy purse. Also, I am going to make a sporting offer. How much do you want for the hire of your shop for the day?"
Rossiter shook his head in puzzled astonishment. He knew something, by repute, of the strange doings of the man who called himself the Sage of Tyburn; but then he was no reader of the Sporting Press, and his sense of humour was decidedly an unknown quantity. He shook his head this time resolutely.
"I fail to understand you," he said. "If this is some mad wager of yours, then I utterly decline—"
"Nothing of the kind, my dear sir, I simply want to hire your establishment, lock, stock, and barrel, assistants and all, from now till closing time this evening. Indeed, it is just possible that I shall want to dissolve partnership as early as four o'clock. Come, now, here is a tempting offer for you! You know that I am a man of good reputation, and incapable of acting dishonourably towards you. At the same time, you have a couple of trusted assistants here who will see that nothing wrong is done. Five hundred pounds for the shop and its contents for the rest of the day!"
It was a tempting offer, as Beggarstaff said; but the Bond Street tradesman hesitated. Five hundred pounds at the present moment meant a good deal to him, as his visitor happened to know.
"Most amazing!" the jeweller muttered. "Yet I see you are thoroughly in earnest. But you are not going to do anything ridiculous? You are not going to attract a crowd, or bring the name of my establishment conspicuously under the notice of the halfpenny papers?"
"Nothing of the kind," Beggarstaff protested. "Not a soul will be any the wiser. Business will go on just as usual during the alteration—I mean, during the temporary partnership; and before the house adjourns everything will be handed over to you just the same as it is now. And, what is more, I am prepared to put down the five hundred pounds in Bank of England notes at this moment."
Beggarstaff suited the action to the word. Nothing could be heard is the office for the moment but the crackling of crisp banknotes.
Five minutes later, and the banknotes were locked away in Mr. Rossiter's safe and the transaction was explained to the pair of polite assistants who had grown grey in the service of their masters. It was a little time later that Rossiter left the shop with reluctant footsteps, and the firm hand of Beggarstaff grasped the wheel.
"I am not going to interfere with you two at all," he said. "I propose to sit in the office and smoke cigarettes till the pear is ripe—I mean, until the drama is sufficiently developed for the entrance of that famous actor Paul Beggarstaff. You are to go on with your work as if nothing had happened; and if anybody wants to see Mr. Rossiter you are exceedingly sorry to say that he has gone away for the day. I think that is all."
True to his programme, Beggarstaff retired to the office and opened his cigarette-case. The clock had struck three before he glanced over the glass partition which gave an uninterrupted view of the shop, and saw that two ladies had entered. They were both young and fashionably dressed, just the class of high-grade customers who usually frequented Rossiter's establishment, and Beggarstaff noted with satisfaction that they had come on foot. He slipped out of the office, and stood behind the counter with an admirable mixture of self-sufficiency and humility which goes to the making of a really superior, up-to-date shop assistant.
"Is there anything that we can show you, madam?" he said. "You will prefer, perhaps, to choose for yourself?"
One of the visitors laughed pleasantly enough. She was tall and fair, with dark brown eyes full of vivacity and charm. It needed no one to tell Beggarstaff that he was face to face with the Princess Serena of Asturia. He noted the waywardness and petulant charm of those features; and he began to understand the parallel between the ruler of Asturia and King Lear. But there was no vice in that pleasant face, nothing but a little inherent weakness which the hand of time would soften.
"We came here to meet a friend," the Princess said. "He was to have been here at three o'clock. As a matter of fact, he is a relation of mine, and was good enough to promise me something valuable in view of my approaching...."
The speaker hesitated and blushed. Beggarstaff at once dashed gallantly into the breach.
"Of course," he said, in his best manner. "May I be permitted to congratulate you—that is—the fortunate individual in question? Still, it would save time, perhaps, if you proceeded with your selection pending the arrival of your distinguished friend—"
"I should just love to," the Princess said simply. "If I have one passion more than another, it is for precious stones. Positively I am not safe when they are about."
Beggarstaff smiled in the obviously obsequious form prescribed as a reply by commercial tradition to such a remark. He waved his hands majestically to his assistants, as if implying that the whole wealth of De Beers reclined, darkly in the safe of the establishment. Be that as it may, the stock was an exceedingly seductive and well-chosen one, as the drawers began to give up their contents and the glass counter shone with streams of living fire. Impulsive and eager, the Princess fluttered from one tray to another like a butterfly in a garden full of tempting flowers. The clock was striking four when she glanced up impatiently at Beggarstaff.
"What is the use of wasting your time?" she said. "It is pretty certain that my friend is not coming; and I am not in a position to order anything for myself. We will return tomorrow, when I will take good care that my friend is here. Meanwhile we are sorry to have given all this trouble."
"Not at all," Beggarstaff murmured politely. "I assure you it is a pleasure to display our goods to a lady of such exquisite taste as yourself. Pray make your choice, so that anything you may choose can be placed on one side for you."
Beggarstaff bowed and retired to the office, whilst the gentlemanly assistants proceeded to break up those flashing squares and replace them to their proper positions. Then, presently animated tones arose from the shop, and a breathless assistant, pale and agitated, came into the office, with a report that a large diamond cluster was missing from its case. Beggarstaff's brows bent in a frown. He stalked majestically into the shop.
The Princess stood there, smiling yet obviously nervous. Her companion, who had said nothing from first to last, was wiping her eyes with something which probably passed for a pocket- handkerchief.
"This is a serious matter, madam," Beggarstaff said. "I do not doubt for a moment that it is capable of explanations, but I am told that a diamond cluster is missing. If you will be so good as to give me your card I dare say—"
"But that is impossible," the Princess cried. "You do not know who I am. It is absolutely necessary that you should not know who I am. The thing is out of the question."
"Precisely," Beggarstaff said. "You will see that your reply is quite enough to arouse suspicion. In the circumstances I can do no more than send for a detective. Mr. Jones, will you ask the commissionaire to step as far as Vine Street Police Station, and ask Inspector Brand to come here without delay?"
The pause which followed was as awkward as it was dramatic. The Princess stood there with a faint smile on her face, though her lips were trembling now, and her dark eyes had an imploring look in them, Beggarstaff bent towards her and offered his arm.
"You are feeling just a little upset," he said. "Let me escort you as far as the office."
Without a word the Princess accepted Beggarstaff's support. The office door closed behind the trio, then there followed an eloquent silence which was ended at last by a sharp hysterical laugh from the Princess as she plunged her hand into a pocket of her coat, and something bright and shining fell upon the table.
"There," she cried, "did I not tell you that I could not resist those things? And nor would you if you had in your veins the blood of five hundred years of predatory ancestors. And now you will say no more about it, Mr. Rossiter. I acted on the spur of the moment. I always do act on the spur of the moment, and am generally bitterly sorry for it afterwards. Do let us out before that horrible detective comes along."
"You cut me to the heart," Beggarstaff said, his voice trembling with emotion. "It is so sad to see one so young and beautiful in a position like this. Believe me, if the matter were entirely in my hands, I would blot the whole painful thing from my memory. But you see I am not Mr. Rossiter—I am merely a partner who has come newly into the business. The assistants know all about it, and Mr. Rossiter must be told. He is one of those hard, cold men, who always do everything on principle. He is a passive resister on principle. He would prosecute you on principle. You see, the fact of having returned that cluster does not palliate the offence."
"But you don't understand," the Princess cried. She was white and trembling now; her resemblance to Di Vernon had become faint and fragmentary. "You do not know whom we are, and I dare not tell you. I assure you it is no fault of mine. I cannot resist beautiful things. Usually the King—I mean, my father— pays for my purchases, and there is an end of the matter. You are young, and you have a good face. Do get us out of this. If you fail, there will be a scandal which will reach from one end of Europe to the other."
"You touch me to the core," Beggarstaff cried. "I am young, as you say. I have a beautiful wife and six charming children depending upon me. For their sakes and for yours I will do my best to act as a man of sentiment should do. Stay here a moment, until I see that the coast is clear. But there is one thing that I must insist upon. It is imperative that I have your address."
"But why?" the Princess urged. "Oh, Leopold, Leopold, I would give five years of my life to have you here for as many minutes!"
"Then why did you leave Leopold and your happy home?" Beggarstaff said. "But cheer up. Leopold will be a happy man yet. You asked me why I wanted your address, and I will tell you. When the detective comes he will happily find that the bird is flown; the sleuth-hound will be baulked of his prey; but he will set himself doggedly to track his victim. The myrmidons of the law will be on his side, and you will be followed by hidden spies. It is for this reason that I want your address. I will take the man aside, and worm his dark secrets from him. I will invite his confidence; and when he tells me that the wolf has marked down the lamb for slaughter, I will fly to you and let you know, I will arrange a means of escape, so that you can get away from London and never return."
Beggarstaff laid his hand upon the bell, and ordered a cab without delay. He turned with a fatherly and encouraging smile upon the Princess, and bade her dry her eyes.
"The cab is here," he said. "You can leave it all to me. I will invent some ingenious excuse for allowing you to depart like this. Come, there is no time to be lost!"
Beggarstaff hustled his visitors through the shop and placed them in the waiting hansom.
"You are safe for the present," he whispered. "But there is one thing: I have not yet your address."
"Long's Hotel," the Princess sobbed. "Suite No. 3; and if it is necessary for you to come, you must ask for Countess Linda. I cannot sufficiently thank you for—"
"Not at all," said Beggarstaff. "I have had my reward, I beg to assure you."
A HANSOM dashed up to Long's Hotel on the stroke of midnight; and a distinguished-looking man in evening dress desired to know if it were possible to see the Countess Linda and her companion, whom he believed were at present occupying a suite of rooms in the house. The hall-porter was not quite sure, but he would see, if the gentleman would give his card. By way of reply the stranger produced a letter from his pocket which he desired to have conveyed to the Countess without delay.
Beggarstaff waited in the hall whilst the fateful missive was sent upstairs. The Countess and her friend had evidently been making a brave attempt to forget their peril, for a heap of fluffy wraps on the sitting-room table testified to the fact that they had just returned from the theatre. A solemn footman presented a letter on a salver to the Countess, and desired to know if there was any reply. The Countess opened the envelope, and in a small, stifled voice asked that the gentleman below might be escorted upstairs.
"It is just what I feared, madam," she whispered huskily. "The letter is from that very gentlemanly partner of the jewellery man. He says here that the police have succeeded in getting on our track, and that we are not safe for more than an hour or so."
The Princess threw up her hands with a gesture of despair.
"Oh, why do I do these things?" she cried. "Why cannot I stay at home and be happy with the man I love? The only man who has any real power over me. Why am I led astray by handsome English priests in an interesting state of health after painful operations? But what is to be done, Linda?"
"We must rely upon the gentlemanly jeweller," the Countess said. "I am sure that he has been kindness itself. He has fallen in love with you, as everybody does. I feel certain that he has found some way of baffling those horrid police; but here he comes."
Beggarstaff entered the room hurriedly. He placed his hand upon his heart, as if to still its painful beatings. His air, as he closed the door, was redolent of transpontine melodrama.
"I have not come too late," he whispered. "I see I am in time to save one—I beg pardon, two—of the most beautiful of their sex. It was not a minute after you had gone before the detective came along. Only a few seconds elapsed before Mr. Rossiter returned. I put them off with ingenious evasions, I fought your battles, I even resigned my partnership for your sweet sake—I mean, for your sweet sakes. But I did not leave the detective. I contrived to worm myself into his confidence. I even went so far as to ask him to come and dine with me—"
"I see," the Princess cried. "You drugged his wine."
"There is a woman's instinct for you!" Beggarstaff exclaimed. "Ladies, it is even as you say. At the present moment the sleuth- hound of the law sleeps, but it will not be for long. He will awake presently, thirsting for the blood of his victim. I calculate that in half an hour he will be hot upon the track. You have no time to lose. You must fly from hence without delay. Once safe in your country, and you can laugh the laws of England to scorn."
"But how are we to get away?" the Princess asked. "I have not sufficient money to pay the hotel bill. It is true that the packing of cur wardrobe is no great matter—"
"Then let it be done at once," Beggarstaff said darkly. "Ring for your maid, and tell her that you are called back unexpectedly to, let us say, Asturia, for instance, or any of those Grand Duchies of Central Europe. As to your hotel bill, I will see to that. Also, I have mapped out for you a proper plan of escape. By telegram and telephone it has all been arranged. At half-past twelve a special train awaits you at Charing Cross Station, reaching Dover an hour later. Even at this moment a special boat is at the Admiralty Pier pending your arrival. Everything is paid for, and everything is settled. At Calais you will find a train ready for you, to convey you to—once more let us say—Asturia."
The Princess smiled through her tears. There was just the suggestion of mischief in her dark eyes.
"You are a most wonderful man," she murmured. "Is it usual in this country for shopkeepers to embark upon these romantic adventures for the sake of ladies whom they have never seen before?"
"You mistake me," Beggarstaff said. "It is true that a cruel fate has wrapped me in an environment of cold commerce; but Nature intended me for a poet. At any rate, if I was not destined for that high honour, I have at least in me the making of a playwright. But we are wasting time. Ring the bell, and give your orders to your maid. I will see you to the cab."
"You are a most delightful person," the Princess cried. "Positively, I feel as if I were in the midst of romance of your own creating and I have a strong suspicion that this is an adventure very much after your own heart."
Beggarstaff bowed his thanks. As a matter of fact, had she but known it, the Princess had divined the situation to a nicety.
Beggarstaff was loth to separate himself finally from the most fascinating princess in Europe, a reason why he probably insisted upon seeing the fugitives safe into their train at Charing Cross.
The great arch was reached at length, a special train stood there waiting for its distinguished passenger. Beggarstaff lingered just a moment as the Princess thanked him. The gratitude in her dark eyes filled him with a glowing sense of rectitude. Looking at the matter from a high ethical point of view, the Seer of Tyburn ought to have been thoroughly well ashamed of himself. But painful as it is to relate, he was nothing of the kind. Indeed, he regarded the whole thing as a kind of cameo amongst his many adventures.
"Good-bye," the Princess said sweetly, as she extended her hand to Beggarstaff. "Good-bye, and try to imagine that I have thanked you as I should have done. Goodbye."
Beggarstaff raised the slender hand to his lips and kissed it fervently.
"Good-bye to you, madam," he said. "The blood of five hundred years of predatory ancestors may trouble you sometimes, but on the whole I regard Leopold as a lucky man. Be good to Leopold, be discreet, and silent, and I will be the same. Good-bye."