for his sake at all, but for that of another whose life is bound up with his in the strangest possible way. When you first met me, Gerald, and asked me to be your wife, you did not display the faintest curiosity as to my past history. Why was that?”
“Why should I?” Venner demanded. “I am my own master, I have more money than I know what to do with and I have practically no relations to consider. You were all-sufficient for me; I loved you for your own sake alone; I cared nothing, and I care nothing still for your past. What I want to know is, how long this is going on?”
“That I cannot tell you,” Vera said sadly. “You must go on trusting me, dear. You must—”
The speaker broke off suddenly, as someone in the corridor called her name. She slipped away from Venner’s side, and, looking through the palms and flowers, he could see that she was talking eagerly to a woman who had the appearance of a lady’s maid. Venner could not fail to note the calm strength of the woman’s face. It was only for a moment; then Vera came back with a telegram in her hand.
“I must go at once,” she said. “It is something of great importance. I don’t know when I shall see you again—”
“I do,” Venner said grimly. “You are going to dine with me to-night. Come just for once; let us imagine we are on our honeymoon. That blackguard Fenwick is away, and he will be none the wiser. Now, I want you to promise me.”
“I really can’t,” Vera protested. “If you only knew the danger—”
However, Venner’s persistency got its own way. A moment later Vera was hurrying down the corridor. It was not until she was out of sight that Venner found that she had gone away, leaving the little Yale key behind her on the table. He thrilled at the sight of it. Here was the opportunity for which he had been waiting.
Not more than ten minutes had elapsed when, thanks to the use of the telephone, Gurdon had reached the Grand Empire Hotel. In a few hurried words, Venner gave him a brief outline of what had happened. There was no time to lose.
“Of course, it is a risk,” Venner said, “and I am not altogether sure that I am justified in taking advantage of this little slip on the part of my wife. What do you think?”
“I think you are talking a lot of rot,” Gurdon said emphatically. “You love the girl, you believe implicitly in her, and you are desperately anxious to get her out of the hands of that blackguard, Fenwick. From some morbid idea of self sacrifice, your wife continues to lead this life of misery rather than betray what she would probably call a trust. It seems to me that you would be more than foolish to hesitate longer.”
“Come along, then,” Venner said. “Let’s see what we can do.”
The key was in the lock at length, and the big door thrown open, disclosing a luxurious suite of rooms beyond. So far as the explorers could see at present, they had the place entirely to themselves. No doubt Fenwick’s servants had taken advantage of his absence to make a holiday. For the most part, the rooms presented nothing out of the common; they might have been inhabited by anybody possessing large means. In one of the rooms stood a desk, carefully locked, and by its side a fireproof safe.
“No chance of getting into either of those,” Gurdon said. “Besides, the attempt would be too risky. Don’t you notice a peculiar noise going on? Sounds almost like machinery.”
Surely enough, from a distant apartment there came a peculiar click and rumble, followed by a whirr of wheels, as if someone was running out a small motor close by. At the same time, the two friends noticed the unmistakable odor of petrol on the atmosphere.
“What the dickens can that be?” Gurdon said. “Its most assuredly in the flat, and not far off, either.”
“The only way to find out is to go and see,” Venner replied. “I fancy this is the way.”
They came at length to a small room at the end of a long corridor. It was evidently from this room that the sound of machinery came, for the nearer they came the louder it grew. The door was slightly ajar, and looking in, the friends could see two men, evidently engaged on some mechanical task. There was a fire of charcoal in the grate, and attached to it a pair of small but powerful bellows, driven by a small motor. In the heart of the fire was a metal crucible, so white and dazzling hot that it was almost impossible for the eye to look upon it. Venner did not fail to notice that the men engaged in this mysterious occupation were masked; at least, they wore exceedingly large smoked spectacles, which came to much the same thing. Behind them stood another man, who had every appearance of being a master workman. He had a short pipe in his mouth, a pair of slippers on his feet, and his somewhat expansive body was swathed in a frock coat. Presently he made a sign, and with the aid of a long pair of tongs, the white hot crucible was lifted from the fire. It was impossible for the two men outside to see what became of it, but evidently the foreman was satisfied with the experiment, for he gave a grunt of approval.
“I think that will do,” he muttered. “The impression is excellent. Now, you fellows can take a rest whilst I go off and finish the other lot of stuff.”
“He’s coming out,” Venner whispered. “Let us make a bolt for it. It won’t do to be caught here.”
They darted down the corridor together, and stood in an angle of a doorway, a little undecided as to what to do next. The man in the frock coat passed them, carrying under one arm a square case, that bore some resemblance to the slide in which photographers slip their negatives after taking a photograph. The man in the frock coat placed his burden on a chair, and then, apparently, hurried back for something he had forgotten.
“Here is our chance,” Gurdon whispered. “Let’s see what is in that case. There may be an important clue here.”
The thing was done rapidly and neatly. Inside the case, between layers of cotton wool, lay a great number of gold coins, obviously sovereigns. They appeared to be in a fine state of preservation, for they glistened in the light like new gold.
“Put one in your pocket,” whispered Venner.
“I’m afraid we are going to have our journey for our pains; but still, you can’t tell. Better take two while you are about it.”
Gurdon slipped the coins into his pocket, then turned away in the direction of the door as the man in the frock coat came back, thoughtfully whistling, as if to give the intruders a chance of escape. Before he appeared in sight the outer door closed softly, and Venner and Gurdon were in the corridor once more.
VI. A PARTIAL FAILURE
“Do you notice anything peculiar about these coins?” Venner said, when once more they were back in the comparative seclusion of the smoking-room. “Have a good look at them.”
Gurdon complied; he turned the coins over in his hand and weighed them on his fingers. So far as he could see they were good, honest, British coins, each well worth the twenty shillings which they were supposed to represent.
“I don’t see anything peculiar about them at all,” he said. “So far as I can judge, they appear to be genuine enough. At first I began to think that our friend Fenwick had turned coiner. Look at this.”
As he spoke Gurdon dashed the coin down upon a marble table. It rang
