The Pauper of Park Lane

“Excuse me, Miss Lorena, I do not,” he declared quickly. “Only we have heard so many threats of exposure that to cease to regard them seriously. Mr Statham’s high reputation is sufficient guarantee to the public.”

“I quite admit that,” answered the girl. “It is not the present that is in question, but the past.”

“In these days of hustle, a man’s past matters but little. It is what he is, not what he was, which the public recognise.”

“Personally,” she said, “I hold Mr Statham in highest esteem. I have never met him, it’s true, but I have knowledge of certain kind and generous actions on his part, actions which have brought happiness and prosperity to those who have fallen upon misfortune. For that reason I resolved to speak to you and warn you of the plot in progress. Do you happen to know a certain Mr John Adams?”

Rolfe started, and stared at her. What could she know of the Damoclean sword suspended over the house of Statham?

“Well,” he answered guardedly, “I once met a man of that name, I think.”

“Recently?”

“About a month ago.”

“You knew nothing of him prior to that?”

Rolfe hesitated. “Well, no,” he replied.

“He made pretence of being friendly with you.”

“Yes. But to tell you the truth I was somewhat suspicions of him. What do you know of him? Tell me.”

“I happen to be well acquainted with him,” the girl responded. “It is he who has arisen like one from the grave, and intends to avenge the wrong which he declares that Mr Statham had done him.”

“Recently?”

“No, years ago, when they were abroad together – and Mr Statham was still a poor man.”

Charlie Rolfe was silent. He knew Adams; he knew, too, that evil was intended. He had warned old Sam Statham, but the latter had not heeded. Adams had had the audacity to approach him in confidence, believing that he might be bought over. When he had discovered that the millionaire’s secretary was incorruptible, he openly declared his sinister intentions.

“I had no idea you were acquainted with Adams,” he said, still puzzled to know who she was, and what was her motive.

“I happen to know certain details of the plot,” she answered.

“And you will reveal them to me?” he asked in quick anxiety.

“Upon certain conditions.”

“And what are they? I am all attention.”

“The first is that you will not seek to learn the identity of the person who is associated with Mr Adams in the forthcoming exposure; and the second is that you say nothing to Mr Statham regarding our secret meeting.”

“Why?” he asked, not quite understanding the reason of her last stipulation. “I thought you wished to warn Mr Statham?”

“No. I warn you. You can take measures of precaution, on Mr Statham’s behalf without making explanation.”

“Mr Statham has already seen John Adams and recognised him. He is already forewarned.”

“And he has not taken any steps in self-defence?” she cried quickly.

“Why need he trouble?”

“Why, because that man Adams has sworn to hound him to self-destruction.”

Rolfe shrugged his shoulders, and replied:

“Mr Statham has really no apprehension of any unpleasantness, Miss Lorena. It is true that in the old days the two men were friends, and, apparently, they quarrelled. Adams was lost for years to all who knew him, and now suddenly reappears to find his old acquaintance wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, and seeks, as many more before him have done, to profit by his former friendship.”

“Or enmity,” added the girl, lowering her sunshade a little until for a moment it hid her features. “I do not think you realise the dastardly cunning of the plot in progress. It has not only as its object the ruin of the credit of the house of Statham Brothers, but the creation of a scandal which Mr Samuel Statham will not dare to face. He must either fly the country, or commit suicide.”

“Well?”

“The latter is expected by the two men who have combined and are now perfecting their ingenious conspiracy. It is believed by them that he will take his own life.”

Charlie Rolfe reflected for a moment. He recollected old Sam’s terrible agitation on the day when he recognised John Adams leaning against the railings of the Park. Of late, the great financier had betrayed signs of unusual nervousness, and had complained several times of insomnia. To his secretary knowledge he had spent two nights that very week in walking the streets of London from midnight until dawn, ostensibly to do charitable actions to the homeless, but in reality because his mind was becoming unbalanced by the constant strain of not knowing from one moment to another when Adams would deal his staggering blow.

Had there been any question of blackmail, the aid of solicitors and of Scotland Yard could have been invoked. But there had been no threat beyond the statement made openly to Rolfe by the man who intended to encompass the ruin of the eccentric millionaire and philanthropist.

“I think, Miss Lorena, that we need have no fear of Mr Statham doing anything rash,” he said. “But why is it hoped that he will prefer to take his life rather than face any exposure?”

“Because they will profit by his death – profit to an enormous degree.”

“But how can Adams profit? He has had no dealings with Mr Statham of late.”

“Not Adams, but his friend. The latter will become wealthy.”

“And may I not know his name?”

“No. That is the stipulation which I make. For the present it is sufficient that you should be made aware of the broad lines of the plot, and that its main object is the death of Samuel Statham.”

“And you wish me to tell him all this?”

“Certainly, only without explaining that I was your informant.”

“Why do you wish to conceal the fact, Miss Lorena?” he asked. “Surely he would be only too delighted to be able to thank you for your warning?”

She shook her head, saying:

“If it were known that I had exposed their plans it would place me in peril. They are determined and relentless men, who would willingly sacrifice a woman in order to gain their ends, which in this case is a large fortune.”

“And you will not tell me the name of Adams’s associate in the matter?”

“No. I – I cannot do that. Please do not ask me,” she answered hurriedly.

Rolfe was again silent for a few moments. At last he asked:

“Cannot you tell me something of the past relations between Adams and Statham? You seem to know all the details of the strange affair.”