The Pauper of Park Lane

This they had no desire to do. They expected to be able to open the iron door from within and pass down the stairs into the hall, and so into the street without detection. That was their intention. To return by the way they had come would be impossible.

Together they consulted in low whispers, and, both agreed, Charlie very carefully turned the handle of the door nearest them. It yielded, and they crept forward and within. At first Max feared to show his light, yet as they found no carpet beneath their feet, and as they felt a vague sense of space in the darkness, he became bolder, and pressed the button of his little lamp.

It was, like the other apartments, entirely devoid of furniture! The upper part of those premises, believed by the world to be filled with costly furniture and magnificent antiques, seemed empty. Charlie was amazed. He had heard many romantic stories of why the old man never allowed a stranger to ascend the stairs, but he had never dreamed that the fine mansion was unfurnished.

The next room they examined was similar in character, rather larger, with two long windows overlooking the Park. They were, however, carefully curtained, and the blinds were down. Beyond a rusty old fender before the fireplace and a roll of old carpet in a corner, it, however, contained nothing.

They passed to the third apartment, likewise a front room, and Max slowly turned the door-handle. In the darkness they stepped within, and again finding it uncarpeted, he shone his light across the place.

Next instant the pair drew back, for sitting up upon a low, iron camp bedstead, glaring at them with eyes haggard and terrified, was old Sam Statham himself.

The room was bare save an old painted washstand and chest of drawers, dirty, uncarpeted, and neglected. The low, narrow bed was covered by an old blue and white counterpane, but its occupant sat glaring at the intruders, too terrified to speak.

In the darkness he probably could not recognise who it was. The electric light blinded him. Next second, however, he touched the switch near his hand, and the wretched room became illuminated, revealing the two intruders.

He tried to speak, but his lips refused to articulate. The old man’s tongue clave to the roof of his mouth.

He knew that his carefully-guarded secret was out!

Chapter Fifty One.

Describes Another Surprise

“To what, pray, do I owe this intrusion?” demanded the old man fiercely, rising from his bed, and standing erect and defiant before them.

“To your own guilt, Mr Statham,” was Max Barclay’s quiet but distinct response.

“My guilt?” gasped the old man. “Of what crime am I guilty?”

“That’s best known to yourself,” answered the younger man. “But I think, now that we’ve investigated your house and discovered your death-trap, we will bid you good-night.”

“You’ve – you’ve found it – eh?” gasped the old fellow, pale as death.

“Yes; and, furthermore, we know how Maud Petrovitch had cast your money at your feet, and defied you.”

“I – I must explain,” he cried, as in frantic eagerness he put on his clothes. “Don’t leave me. Come below, and – and’ll tell you.”

The pair remained in the wretchedly uncomfortable room, while the old man finished dressing. Then all three descended, the millionaire walking first. They passed the door of the room where stood the coffin, and by touching a spring the iron door opened, and they descended to the library.

The noise wakened old Levi, who appeared at the head of the back stairs, full of surprise.

A reassuring word from his master, however, caused him to at once retire again.

Within the library old Sam switched on the light, and invited both his unwelcome visitors to be seated. Then, standing before them, he said:

“I presume, gentlemen, that your curiosity led you to break into my house?”

Max Barclay nodded.

“I can understand you acting thus, sir; but I cannot understand Rolfe, who knows me so well and who has served me so faithfully.”

“And, in return, how have I been served?” asked Charlie, bitterly. “My poor sister has been turned adrift, and you have refused to lift a finger to reinstate her.”

“I admit that on the face of it, Rolfe, I have been hard and cruel,” declared the old man. “But when you know the truth you will not, perhaps, think so unkindly of me as at this moment.”

The old fellow was perfectly calm. All his fear had vanished, and he now stood his old and usual self, full of quiet assurance.

“Well,” Rolfe said, “perhaps you will tell us the truth. Why, for instance, did Maud Petrovitch visit you to-night?”

“She came upon her own initiative. She wished to ask me a question.”

“Which you refused to answer.”

“It was not judicious for me to tell her what she desized to know – not at present, at least.”

“But now that we are here together, in confidence you will, no doubt, allow us to know where she and her father are in hiding,” Charlie asked, breathlessly.

“Certainly, if you will promise not to communicate with them or call upon them without my consent.”

“We promise,” declared Max.

“Then they are living in strictest seclusion at Fordham Cottage, Arundel, in Sussex.”

“But you have quarrelled with Maud?” Charlie remarked, at the same time remembering that closed coffin in the room above.

“Upon one point only – a very small and unimportant one,” responded the old man.

“Where is my sister?”

“Unfortunately, I have no knowledge of where she is at present.”

“But you have just assured me that when I know the truth I shall not regard you so harshly,” Rolfe exclaimed.

“And I repeat it,” Statham said.

The old man’s attitude amazed them both. He was perfectly calm and quite unperturbed by the grim discoveries they had made.

“You mean that you refuse to tell me anything concerning my sister?” Charlie asked, seriously.

“For the present – yes.”

“Why not now? Why forbid us also from seeking the Doctor and his daughter?”

“For reasons of my own. I am expecting a visitor.”

Max laughed sarcastically. The reason put forward seemed too absurd.

“Ah! you don’t believe it!” cried the old fellow. “But you will see. Your curiosity has, no doubt, led you to misjudge me. It was only to have been expected. I ought to have guarded my secret better.”