Corner House — Chapter XLIV, At Last; Chapter XLV, A Chase; Chapter XLVI, Hetty Learns Something
Leona Lalage strove to speak, but the words froze on her lips.
She was face to face with Garrett Charlton!
CHAPTER XLIV. AT LAST.
For the first time in her life Leona Lalage felt inclined to give up the struggle.
Turn whichever way she would fate was ever against her.
The shock of these constant surprises was fast breaking down her iron nerves.
She stood there face to face with the last man in the world she desired to see.
Her breath came fast as if she had been running far, there was not a trace of colour on her cheeks.
Charlton could see the black pupils dilating like those of a cat.
The woman had been brought to bay.
If she could only get away!
But Charlton stood between her and the door.
He would recognize her now as his late wife's companion, but once her disguise was put aside would he recognize the Countess Lalage?
The shock was dying away.
After all, what was the accusation?
And yet Charlton was looking at her with the eyes of a man who has found out everything.
They stood confronting one another for some time in silence.
It was Charlton who first spoke.
He came a step or two nearer.
"So we have met at last," he said.
"Well, murderess?"
"That is a word that does no harm," Leona said.
"What have I done?"
"What I have said.
You murdered my wife as surely as if you had driven a knife into her breast.
She found you out in my absence.
And to shield yourself and come between husband and wife you forged an infamous letter.
Oh, you well knew the emotional nature you had to deal with, you counted on it.
That forgery had the desired effect, and my wife poisoned herself.
You would have got that letter back, but I returned unexpectedly.
I kept that letter which would have saved my good name, but I preferred to remain silent so that it might go to the world that my wife had found no suicide's grave.
I have that letter."
"I don't doubt it," Leona said coolly.
Her restless eyes were seeking a way of escape.
"But many would say it was no forgery at all.
You cannot prove that I had anything to do with it.
There, let me pass."
She advanced, but Charlton waved her back.
"Not yet," he said.
"I am not going to throw this chance away.
I came here to see Mr. Isidore, and I elected to wait.
It was one of the best hour's work I ever did.
When you leave here it will be for a gaol."
Leona smiled scornfully.
She had no fear of that.
"On what charge, may I ask?"
she demanded.
"On a charge of theft.
You robbed my wife and she found you out.
One of the servants found you out as well.
You had barely time to conceal those jewels and get away.
After a time you came back for them.
You stole them from their hiding-place."
"Ah, this is serious.
How did you know that?"
"Because I saw you--you and your infamous accomplice, Balmayne."
"Then it really was your face in the window!"
Leona cried.
"There, I have admitted it, though I had not meant to do so.
Not that it matters.
I could swear that I had denied it all along.
If you have witnesses----" "I had witnesses; I was not in the house alone.
There are other people interested in the Spanish woman with the fair hair and mantilla--the woman who was in the Corner House at the time of the murder!"
The scornful smile froze on Leona's face.
She had utterly forgotten for the moment that she stood face to face now with two grave perils.
"The name of your witness?"
she demanded, hoarsely.
"All in good time," Charlton replied.
"Now I have found you once again I can punish you and clear my wife's good name at the same time.
I
have only to lock the door and summon the police by way of the window.
If everything else fails I can have you punished for the theft of those jewels."
"That is if you can find any trace of them."
"I have seen them; I have had them in my hands."
Charlton was about to say more, but he checked himself in time.
After all, the woman and her accomplice had not stolen the real gems, but the paste imitations.
But Lawrence would be in a position to clear that point.
"If I confess," Leona suggested--"if I confess, will you promise----."
"I promise nothing.
You are in no position to dictate terms.
Sit down and tell me the history of the forgery."
The woman's eyes flashed again.
All this was taking time.
Balmayne would wonder what had happened to her.
From the bottom of her heart she was praying that he might come up and see.
Not that there was much real hope of that--physical courage was not one of Louis Balmayne's strong points.
No, if there was a way to safety she would have to find it herself.
And there was a long knife under the folds of her dress.
If she could only get a chance to use it!
After that the fair Spaniard would disappear, never to be seen again.
Of her real identity this man could not possibly know.
"I'll tell you," she said.
"I procured a letter of yours.
I cut out words here and there, and made a long letter of them.
Then I had the whole thing photographed.
After that my task was easy, it was only a matter of time.
Even from a child I always had a gift that way.
If you will give me paper and pen I will show you."
Charlton complied.
Leona Lalage used the pen, which she expressed herself as very dissatisfied with.
She called for another.
Charlton rummaged on a table with his head down.
Like a cat Leona sprang forward.
Something bright glittered in the air.
The man turned just in time to save the steel crashing between his ribs, it glanced off between his shoulders, there was a sharp spasm of pain as he fell.
Just for an instant he was unconscious.
Then, as suddenly as it had gone, reason came back to him.
He heard the trip of feet down the stairs, he heard the rattle and banging of a door.
He was bleeding freely, but he managed to drag himself to the window.
"Murder!"
he yelled.
"Police, arrest that woman; she has tried to kill me!"
CHAPTER XLV. A CHASE.
Meanwhile, Balmayne had been waiting impatiently for the return of his companion.
Half an hour passed, and there was no sign of her return.
There had been so many accidents and strokes of ill-luck lately that even Balmayne was nervous.
He had half a mind to go and see what was wrong, but he changed his mind and lighted a cigarette instead.
He was angry and afraid at the same time.
Twice already the same policeman had passed the black motor, and had examined it critically.
The third time he came round he would be pretty sure to want to know why it was still there.
If---- A sudden cry smote the air, a yell of murder followed by the quick rush of footsteps.
A police-whistle screamed hoarsely, there were answering whistles out of the darkness.
The rush of footsteps drew nearer.
The next instant, sobbing breathlessly, Leona Lalage flung herself headlong into the car.
"What on earth," Balmayne began, "what on earth----" "Don't stop to ask questions," Leona panted.
"Get along quickly.
Go home by as long a route as you can.
Ah, they are coming."
A policeman was coming.
He hailed the car.
He could have no suspicion of its occupants as yet, he only sought information.
Balmayne pulled the lever and the car started.
The officer yelled instructions to somebody in the darkness; from point to point the message went along.
There was no escape unless good luck stood on their side.
And the motor was terribly swift.
"And now perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me what it's all about," Balmayne growled as the motor sped along.
"What was the fuss about?"
"I found Charlton there," Leona panted.
"Above all persons in the world, I found Charlton there.
He was sitting in the darkness waiting for Isidore----" "Then you haven't even got the notes?"
"The notes!
I had more important matters to think of.
I found matches and lighted the gas.
And there sitting opposite me was Charlton.
It was part of my wretched luck that I should have stumbled on him in this disguise.
Had I been differently dressed he would never have recognized me.
I----.
Faster, faster."
A policeman stepped out of the gloom and tried to pull up the car.
It flashed by him at the rate of 70 miles an hour.
"I would have made some excuse and got away," Leona went on.
"But he had me fast.
He was going to send me to gaol.
That would have been a pretty thing for Countess Lalage!
But he only knew me for what I used to be.
If I could only get away and destroy the disguise he would never get on my track again.
I pretended that I could not fight him any more; I lulled his suspicions to sleep.
I was going to show him how the forgery was done.
He stooped to get me a pen and the knife went into his shoulder.
Had he not moved I should have killed him.
He managed to creep to the window and give the alarm."
Leona stopped for want of breath.
Her face was streaming with moisture.
The fierce rush of cold air cooled her heated temples.
"There was nothing else for it," she said.
"I wish I had killed him, then I should have got the notes and returned home comfortably.
As it is half the officers in London are looking for the car at the present moment.
See that!"
She tugged at Balmayne's arm.
A cordon of men were drawn up across the road.
With marvellous dexterity Balmayne whipped the car round almost into a set of men who scattered right and left.
One clung to the back of the car for a moment, but Balmayne beat him off at length.
"Turn down Churton Street," Leona whispered.
"There seems to be nobody at that corner.
If we can only get round by way of Hill Crescent we may manage to escape yet.
Once in the square we can baffle them."
It was quiet enough in Churton Street.
And again in Collin's Crescent, which was so near home that the long line of Lytton Avenue could be seen.
But there again standing figures came out of the gloom and the car sped on.
"So near and yet so far," said Balmayne between his teeth.
"The best thing would be to climb the railings and hide in one of the gardens, only it would mean abandoning the car.
And we might just as well give ourselves up as that."
Leona nodded, the spirit of adventure was upon her now, it fired her blood.
And there was something intoxicating about that maddening pace.
Still, they could not go on at that speed for ever.
Another half an hour at that speed and the petrol must give out.
Balmayne was growing anxious.
"Another dash round, then I must try the lane at the back of the house," he said.
"The car can't go on like this for ever."
They sped on again, finding the avenues of escape gradually closing in.
Day and night there are always people in the London streets, and the news was flying far that murder had been committed, and that the culprits were escaping in a fast motor.
By an extra spurt of speed a rope drawn across the roadway near the avenue was just escaped.
A yell of execration followed from the crowd.
The car flashed round the corner of Lytton Avenue on two wheels.
There was a jolt and a crash as the flying machine went over a balk of wood laid across the road, and the next instant the occupants were rolling across the path.
Just for the moment there was nobody in sight.
"Quick," cried Balmayne, as he pulled his companion to her feet.
"You don't seem to be hurt, It's a mystery we were not killed.
There's a rail out of the long line of rails in the square yonder, close here.
Ah!
Now you squeeze through and I'll follow.
We shall save our skins yet."
They crawled through and hid themselves in the black shrubs.
A
policeman came running up and surveyed the wreck thoughtfully.
His lantern played all over it, he stooped down and rubbed at the dull frame-work vigorously.
"Why, what's this?"
he exclaimed.
"What does the game mean?"
"Found anything out, mate?"
another officer asked.
"Found out a lot," said the first policeman.
"This motor's as bright as your lantern really, It's all covered over with blacklead."
CHAPTER XLVI. HETTY LEARNS SOMETHING.
A search was being made for the fugitives in every place but the right one.
The railings of the square were high, so that it never occurred to any one that the culprits might have escaped that way.
They had got off somehow.
In the opinion of most of the people there they had stopped the motor and started it again on its headlong course, after which they had mingled with the crowd.
Gradually Lytton Avenue grew quiet again.
Leona Lalage stood up so that the light of a lamp outside showed her up in a ghastly fashion.
She had lost her fair wig somewhere, her face was all cut and bleeding, her left ankle was painfully sprained.
"Do I look very dreadful?"
she asked.
"Your face is all cut about," Balmayne growled.
"I should think that you will not be able to show up in society for some time to come."
Leona Lalage thought little about that.
She had about her those who were skilful in the way of paint and powder.
An artist in face treatment would remove all traces of those cuts in a short time.
What she was most anxious to do now was to find herself at home.
Those nerves were coming back again.
"Let us get in," she said hoarsely.
"A cold bath, to say nothing of a deep, deep drink.
I want brandy, a lot of brandy, and soda water.
Is the coast clear?"
The coast was clear apparently, and the two culprits crept out.
They reached the house at length and tried the door.
It was fast!
The Countess shook her hands passionately.
"Where's the sense in making that noise?"
Balmayne growled.
"Why didn't you bring your latchkey as I suggested, instead of leaving the front door open?
Some zealous policeman found it open and rang the servants up."
"We must try the back gate," Leona suggested.
They crept round there unseen by dint of this and that doorway, but there was no luck that night.
The little gate was fast.
Hetty had seen to that.
She had made up her mind to know what time the Countess returned, together with all other information possible.
"You'll have to knock them up," said Balmayne, between his teeth.
"It will take time and it will be dangerous.
But there's nothing else for it that I can see.
Say you have had a spill out of a cab or something of that kind.
When you have bustled them off upstairs again I'll sneak into the house.
I could do with a cigarette and a brandy and soda quite as much as you can."
It was hard work to make anybody hear, especially as a watchful policeman might come along at any moment.
But presently a light gleamed behind the stained glass of the front door, and then Hetty's face came into sight.
She looked heavy and sleepy, a white wrap was about her shoulders.
But her stare of amazement was quite unaffected.
She it was who had locked the front door with the full determination of only opening at her will.
But she had not expected to see a figure like this.
"I--I was nearly asleep," she stammered, "when I heard the bell.
And the moment I heard it I came down.
Why--why--oh, what has happened?"
There was no acting here--at least not for the moment.
Hetty's gentle heart was touched by the physical wreck before her.
Here was a woman in distress who wanted the aid and assistance of a sister.
"Let me look at you," she said, tenderly.
"Let me get water and some towels."
But the Countess thrust her fiercely aside.
"I can do all that for myself presently," she said.
"I--I was lured on a fool's errand, and I have had a narrow escape of my life.
Don't ask any questions yet.
Go to the sideboard and get me brandy; there are some syphons of soda water there.
Give me a lot, fill the glass; more brandy."
The soda water hissed and bubbled in the long glass.
Leona raised it to her lips and drained it to the last drop.
A little splash of colour crept into her scarred cheek, she drew a long, shuddering sigh.
But Hetty's curious eyes were upon her.
Surely some further information was needed of this midnight adventure!
And just for the moment Leona Lalage could think of nothing that sounded like the truth.
She would have to appeal to Hetty and throw herself on her kindly feeling.
"I am going to my room now," she said.
"I feel better.
Hetty, I have done a foolish thing tonight.
I--I did it for the sake of another.
It was a plot to rob and perhaps murder me, but I didn't know it.
Promise me on your honour that you will never speak of this to a soul."
The promise thrilled on Hetty's lips.
But might not this be all part of the conspiracy by which her lover's good name had terribly suffered?
Perhaps later on, her testimony on this head might be all important.
There was a faint moaning cry in the doorway, a tiny white figure stood there.
Mamie had been awakened by the ringing of the bell, she had missed Hetty, and had come down in her childish way to see what was the matter.
"Oh, mother," she cried.
"What is the matter?
What have they been doing to you?"
She advanced rubbing her terrified eyes, but Hetty barred the way, and caught the little one up in her arms.
"It is nothing, darling," she said as she kissed the white lips.
"Mother has been masquerading, it is a part of her dress.
You must come to bed with me at once; there is a terrible draught here.
Come along."
Hetty swept out of the room and up the stairs, glad to escape without giving the word that would have sealed her lips.
