Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo

“Have you, of late, formed an acquaintance of a certain Mrs. Bond, a widow?”

“I met her recently in South Kensington, at the house of a friend of my mother, Mrs. Binyon. Why?”

“How many times have you met her?”

“Two—or I think three. She came to tea with us the day before we came up here.”

“H’m! Your mother seems rather prone to make easy acquaintanceships—eh? The Hardcastles were distinctly undesirable, were they not?—and the Jameses also?”

“Why, what do you know about them?” asked the girl, much surprised, as they were two families who had been discovered to be not what they represented.

“Well,” he laughed. “I happen to be aware of your mother’s charm—that’s all.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about us,” she remarked. “How is it?”

“Because I have made it my business to know, Miss Ranscomb,” he replied. “Further, I would urge upon you to have nothing to do with Mrs. Bond.”

“Why not? We found her most pleasant. She is the widow of a wealthy man who died abroad about two years ago, and she lives somewhere down in Surrey.”

“I know all about that,” he answered in a curious tone. “But I repeat my warning that Mrs. Bond is by no means a desirable acquaintance. I tell you so for your own benefit.”

Inwardly he was angry that the woman should have so cleverly made the acquaintance of the girl. It showed him plainly that Benton and she were working on a set and desperate plan, while the girl before him was entirely ignorant of the plot.

“Now, Miss Ranscomb,” he added, “I want you to please make me a promise—namely, that you will say nothing to a single soul of what I have said this evening—not even to your friend, Mr. Henfrey. I have very strong reasons for this. Remember, I am acting in the interests of you both, and secrecy is the essence of success.”

“I understand. But you really mystify me. I know you are my friend,” she said, “but why are you doing all this for our benefit?”

“In order that Hugh Henfrey may return to your side, and that hand in hand you may be able to defeat your enemies.”

“My enemies! Who are they?” asked the girl.

“One day, very soon, they must reveal themselves. When they do, and you find yourself in difficulties, you have only to call upon me, and I will further assist you. Advertise in the Times newspaper at any time for an appointment with ‘Silverado.’ Give me seven days, and I will keep it.”

“But do tell me your name!” she urged, as they moved together from the pathway along the road in the direction of Perth. “I beg of you to do so.”

“I have already begged a favour of you, Miss Ranscomb,” he answered in a soft, refined voice. “I ask you not to press your question. Suffice it that I am your sincere friend.”

“But when shall I see Hugh?” she cried, again halting. “I cannot bear this terrible suspense any longer—indeed I can’t! Can I go to him soon?”

“No!” cried a voice from the shadow of a bush close beside them as a dark alert figure sprang forth into the light. “It is needless. I am here, dearest!—at last!”

And next second she found herself clasped in her lover’s strong embrace, while the stranger, utterly taken aback, stood looking on, absolutely mystified.

FIFTEENTH CHAPTER

THE NAMELESS MAN

“Who is this gentleman, Dorise?” asked Hugh, when a moment later the girl and her companion had recovered from their surprise.

“I cannot introduce you,” was her reply. “He refuses to give his name.”

The tall man laughed, and said:

“I have already told you that my name is X.”

Hugh regarded the stranger with distinct suspicion. It was curious that he should discover them together, yet he made but little comment.

“We were just speaking about you, Mr. Henfrey,” the tall man went on. “I believed that you were still in Belgium.”

“How did you know I was there?”

“Oh!—well, information concerning your hiding-place reached me,” was his enigmatical reply. “I am, however, glad you have been able to return to England in safety. I was about to arrange a meeting between you. But I advise you to be most careful.”

“You seem to know a good deal concerning me,” Hugh remarked resentfully, looking at the stern, rather handsome face in the moonlight.

“This is the gentleman who sought me out in Nice, and first told me of your peril, Hugh. I recognize his voice, and have to thank him for a good deal,” the girl declared.

“Really, Miss Ranscomb, I require no thanks,” the polite stranger assured her. “If I have been able to render Mr. Henfrey a little service it has been a pleasure to me. And now that you are together again I will leave you.”

“But who are you?” demanded Hugh, filled with curiosity.

“That matters not, now that you are back in England. Only I beseech of you to be very careful,” said the tall man. Then he added: “There are pitfalls into which you may very easily fall—traps set by your enemies.”

“Well, sir, I thank you sincerely for what you have done for Miss Ranscomb during my absence,” said the young man, much mystified at finding Dorise strolling at that hour with a man of whose name even she was ignorant. “I know I have enemies, and I shall certainly heed your warning.”

“Your enemies must not know you are in England. If they do, they will most certainly inform the police.”

“I shall take care of that,” was Hugh’s reply. “I shall be compelled to go into hiding again—but where, I do not know.”

“Yes, you must certainly continue to lie low for a time,” the man urged. “I know how very dull it must have been for you through all those weeks. But even that is better than the scandal of arrest and trial.”

“Ah! I know of what you are accused, Hugh!” cried the girl. “And I also know you are innocent!”

“Mr. Henfrey is innocent,” said the tall stranger. “But there must be no publicity, hence his only chance of safety lies in strict concealment.”

“It is difficult to conceal oneself in England,” replied Hugh.

The stranger laughed, as he slowly answered:

“There are certain places where no questions are asked—if you know where to look for them. But first, I am very interested to know how you got over here.”

“I went to Ostend, and for twenty pounds induced a Belgian fisherman to put me ashore at night near Caister, in Norfolk. I went to London at once, only to discover that Miss Ranscomb was at Blairglas—and here I am. But I assure you it was an adventurous crossing, for the weather was terrible—a gale blew nearly the whole time.”

“You are here, it is true, Mr. Henfrey. But you mustn’t remain here,” the stranger declared. “Though I refuse to give you my name, I will nevertheless try to render you further assistance. Go back to London by the next train you can get, and then call upon Mrs. Mason, who lives at a house called ‘Heathcote,’ in Abingdon Road, Kensington. She is a friend of mine, and I will advise her by telegram that she will have a visitor. Take apartments at her house, and remain there in strict seclusion. Will you remember the address—shall I write it down?”

“Thanks very much indeed,” Hugh replied. “I shall remember it. Mrs. Mason, ‘Heathcote,’ Abingdon Road, Kensington.”

“That’s it. Get there as soon as ever you can,” urged the stranger. “Recollect that your enemies are still in active search of you.”