Beggar’s Choice

“On your marriage?” I said.

He laughed.

“Where were you? In the bushes?”

“I was nicely placed for listening in,” I said.

He moved round to face me.

“You’re going to Linwood, I suppose? Will you give A

“Well?” I was waiting for the message.

“Give it to her when she’s by herself.” He had an easy, commanding ma

He turned to the wheel. Then suddenly he jerked his head back over his shoulder.

“A

I said it was begi

“Did you ever hear of a thing called the Queen A

I laughed.

“To the best of my belief, I’ve got it sewn into the hem of my coat at this moment,” I said.

“Oh, you know?” He seemed surprised.

“Yes, I know. That is why I’m going to Linwood.”

He waited for a moment. Then he laughed too.

“All right-that’s all-I thought I’d just let you know. You’ll give A

I said, “Yes.” Then I watched him drive away.

I walked on to the nearest lamp. I was considering what I was going to do. I had enough money to go to an hotel, but I wondered whether they would take me in, grimy, disheveled, torn, and without a stick of baggage. I thought a railway hotel would be my best chance. I stood under the lamp and dived for my wallet, just to make sure how much money I had.

My wallet was gone.

XLI

Dr. Monk was having a most uncomfortable quarter of an hour. He sat on one side of the library table and looked across it at his old friend Mr. Carthew, who was not looking at him in at all a friendly ma

Mr. Carthew thumped the table.

“What cock-and-bull story is this?” he- said in a loud, intemperate voice.

“My dear Carthew-”

“I asked you a question, Monk.”

“I can only say-” Dr. Monk was not allowed to say it.

“And I want an answer!” said Mr. Carthew, and thumped again.

A

“If you will allow me to speak-” said Dr. Monk with some offense.

Mr. Carthew pushed back his chair and flung himself into the corner of it.

“Oh, speak-speak-speak! Let’s have the whole thing out and have done with it!”

“It was on the evening of September the seventeenth,” said Dr. Monk, frowning. “Miss Lang rang me up and told me you’d given her a fright-she said she’d found you unconscious on the floor-she seemed to think you’d had a shock. She asked me to come up and have a look at you. I came along at once, and in the street just outside Turner’s I saw Car Fairfax.”

Mr. Carthew snorted.

“In the dark?” he said.

“Really, Carthew! He was holding a torch for a man who was doing something to his car. Just as I passed, the man reached up for the torch, and as he took it, the light shone in Car’s face.”

“Go on,” said Mr. Carthew combatively.

“I came up here. Miss Lang told me that you didn’t remember anything at all about your attack.”

Mr. Carthew snorted again.

“I didn’t remember anything about it because I never had it!”

A

Dr. Monk, leaning a little forward upon the arms of his chair, cleared his throat and went on:

“I found you sleeping comfortably”-Mr. Carthew gave a loud, angry laugh-“but Miss Lang was in a state of considerable distress. She had found the library window open. I came in here with her to see whether anything had been taken.”

“Well?” said Mr. Carthew explosively.

Dr. Monk turned in his chair and pointed past A

“That top drawer was open. Some one had been rummaging in it-the papers had all been turned about, and your check-book was lying across the top of them, open.”

“Is that all?”

“No,” said Dr. Monk. “No-not quite. I pulled down the flap of the bureau, and some one had been making hay there too-everything had been turned out of the pigeon-holes, and your keys were lying straggling on the top of the pile.”

Mr. Carthew got very red in the face.

“And why wasn’t I told all this before, pray?”

Dr. Monk looked uncomfortably at A

“I said I would tell you.” She paused, then repeated, “I told Dr. Monk that I would tell you.”

“I thought Miss Lang had told you,” said Dr. Monk. He hesitated a little. “I didn’t think that I should refer to what might be a-a-well, a painful family matter.”

“Painful!” said Mr. Carthew angrily. “Family!”-more angrily still-“Upon my word, Monk-a painful family matter! What put it into your head that there was anything painful-what? Or that it concerned my family? I say what put such a thing into your head?”

Dr. Monk sat back in his chair. He had said his say, and was glad to get it over. He saw no reason for holding anything back now.

“Miss Lang’s distress,” he said. “When I mentioned having seen her cousin, she was-er-very much affected. It was impossible not to notice it, impossible not to draw one’s conclusions-especially when she begged me not to tell any one that I had seen Car Fairfax.”

Mr. Carthew turned towards A

“Why was that? Why did you ask him that?”

“I don’t know,” said A

“You did ask Monk not to tell any one he had seen Car?”

“Yes.”

“Why? You must know why you did it! Come-out with it-what!”

A

“I was afraid.”

“What were you afraid of? Of Car?” He laughed harshly. “You won’t ask me to believe that, I hope?”

“Not of him--for him,” said A

“Good Lord! Can’t you speak up?” A mounting exasperation big fair to choke his utterance.

With a sudden tragic gesture A

“Oh!” she said. Her breath caught on a sob. “I was- afraid-afraid-he-” Her voice stopped.

“Out with it!” said Mr. Carthew. “Say what you were afraid of and have done with it-what!”

“I can’t,” said A

Dr. Monk looked reproachfully across the table. Very affecting, this distress. Young scamp in a scrape. Lovely, tender-hearted girl. Old playfellow. Very distressing and affecting.

Mr. Carthew restrained himself, moderated his voice, and controlled a strong desire to take his niece by the shoulders and shake her.

“What were you afraid of?”

A

“You thought Car was a thief? Car Fairfax -your cousin- my nephew-a thief-what? You let Dr. Monk think so? You want to make me believe that he stole the Queen A

A

Then she heard a sound from behind the heavy leather screen that masked the door. The door was opening-some one was coming in. She turned blindly to the window.

William came in with a note. She heard her uncle say,

“What’s this-what? I’m busy.” And then, with an exclamation, “No, not in here-the study!”

William’s footsteps retreated. She heard Mr. Carthew jerk himself up.

“I’ll say good morning, Monk. I’ve got business waiting for me, and you’d better be getting along-what? Leave her to find her tongue.”

He went out, taking Dr. Monk with him.

A faint wonder as to what was happening crept into her mind and disturbed it. She stood looking out, her thought clearing momentarily. She had felt a real fear under her uncle’s battering questions. A sense of having come to an end was upon her. A