E. Phillips Oppenheim - 21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series)

“She will never lack a protector in me,” Dominey declared.

There were more farewells and, soon after, the little procession of cars drove off. Rosamund herself was on the terrace, bidding all her guests farewell. She clung to Dominey’s arm when at last they turned back into the empty hall.

“What dear people they were, Everard!” she exclaimed. “I only wish that I had seen more of them. The Duchess was perfectly charming to me, and I never knew any one with such delightful manners as Prince Terniloff. Are you going to miss them very much, dear?”

“Not a bit,” he answered. “I think I shall take a gun now and stroll down the meadows and across the rough ground. Will you come with me, or will you put on one of your pretty gowns and entertain me downstairs at luncheon? It is a very long time since we had a meal alone together.”

She shook her head a little sadly.

“We never have had,” she answered. “You know that, Everard, and alas! I know it. But we are going on pretending, aren’t we?”

He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them.

“You shall pretend all that you like, dear Rosamund,” he promised, “and I will be the shadow of your desires. No! No tears!” he added quickly, as she turned away. “Remember there is nothing but happiness for you now. Whoever I am or am not, that is my one aim in life.”

She clutched at his hand passionately, and suddenly, as though finding it insufficient, twined her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Let me come with you,” she begged. “I can’t bear to let you go. I’ll be very quiet. Will you wait ten minutes for me?”

“Of course,” he answered.

He strolled down towards the gun room, stood by the fire for a moment, and then wandered out into the courtyard, where Middleton and a couple of beaters were waiting for him with the dogs. He had scarcely taken a step towards them, however, when he stopped short. To his amazement Seaman was there, standing a little on one side, with his eyes fixed upon the windows of the servants’ quarters.

“Hullo, my friend!” he exclaimed. “Why, I thought you went by the early train from Thursford Station?”

“Missed it by two minutes,” Seaman replied with a glance towards the beaters. “I knew all the cars were full for the eleven o’clock, so I thought I’d wait till the afternoon.”

“And where have you been to for the last few hours, then?”

Seaman had reached his side now and was out of earshot of the others.

“Trying to solve the mystery of Johann Wolff’s sudden departure last night. Come and walk down the avenue with me a short way.”

“A very short distance, then. I am expecting Lady Dominey.”

They passed through the thin iron gates and paced along one of the back entrances to the Hall.

“Do not think me indiscreet,” Seaman began. “I returned without the knowledge of any one, and I kept out of the way until they had all gone. It is what I told you before. Things which I do not understand depress me, and behold! I have found proof this morning of a further significance in Wolff’s sudden departure.”

“Proceed,” Dominey begged.

“I learned this morning, entirely by accident, that Mr. Pelham’s servant was either mistaken or willfully deceived me. Wolff did not accompany your butler to the station.”

“And how did you find that out?” Dominey demanded.

“It is immaterial! What is material is that there is a sort of conspiracy amongst the servants here to conceal the manner of his leaving. Do not interrupt me, I beg! Early this morning there was a fresh fall of snow which has now disappeared. Outside the window of the room which I found locked were the marks of footsteps and the tracks of a small car.”

“And what do you gather from all this?” Dominey asked.

“I gather that Wolff must have had friends in the neighbourhood,” Seaman replied, “or else—”

“Well?”

“My last supposition sounds absurd,” Seaman confessed, “but the whole matter is so incomprehensible that I was going to say—or else he was forcibly removed.”

Dominey laughed softly.

“Wolff would scarcely have been an easy man to abduct, would he,” he remarked, “even if we could hit upon any plausible reason for such a thing! As a matter of fact, Seaman,” he concluded, turning on his heel a little abruptly as he saw Rosamund standing in the avenue, “I cannot bring myself to treat this Johann Wolff business seriously. Granted that the man was a spy, well, let him get on with it. We are doing our job here in the most perfect and praiseworthy fashion. We neither of us have the ghost of a secret to hide from his employers.”

“In a sense that is true,” Seaman admitted.

“Well, then, cheer up,” Dominey enjoined. “Take a little walk with us, and we will see whether Parkins cannot find us a bottle of that old Burgundy for lunch. How does that sound?”

“If you will excuse me from taking the walk,” Seaman begged, “I would like to remain here until your return.”

“You are more likely to do harm,” Dominey reminded him, “and set the servants talking, if you show too much interest in this man’s disappearance.”

“I shall be careful,” Seaman promised, “but there are certain things which I cannot help. I work always from instinct, and my instinct is never wrong. I will ask no more questions of your servants, but I know that there is something mysterious about the sudden departure of Johann Wolff.”

Dominey and Rosamund returned about one o’clock to find a note from Seaman, which the former tore open as his companion stood warming her feet in front of the fire. There were only a few lines:

“I am following an idea. It takes me to London. Let us meet there within a few days.

“S.”

“Has he really gone?” Rosamund asked.

“Back to London.”

She laughed happily. “Then we shall lunch a deux after all! Delightful! I have my wish!”

There was a sudden glow in Dominey’s face, a glow which was instantly suppressed.

“Shall I ever have mine?” he asked, with a queer little break in his voice.

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Terniloff and Dominey, one morning about six months later, lounged underneath a great elm tree at Ranelagh, having iced drinks after a round of golf. Several millions of perspiring Englishmen were at the same moment studying with dazed wonder the headlines in the midday papers.

“I suppose,” the Ambassador remarked, as he leaned back in his chair with an air of lazy content, “that I am being accused of fiddling while Rome burns.”

“Every one has certainly not your confidence in the situation,” Dominey rejoined calmly.

“There is no one else who knows quite so much,” Terniloff reminded him.

Dominey sipped his drink for a moment or two in silence.

“Have you the latest news of the Russian mobilisation?” he asked. “They had some startling figures in the city this morning.”

The Prince waved his hand.

“My faith is not founded on these extraneous incidents,” he replied. “If Russia mobilises, it is for defence. No nation in the world would dream of attacking Germany, nor has Germany the slightest intention of imperilling her coming supremacy amongst the nations by such crude methods as military enterprise. Servia must be punished, naturally, but to that, in principle, every nation in Europe is agreed. We shall not permit Austria to overstep the mark.”

“You are at least consistent, Prince,” Dominey remarked.

Terniloff smiled.

“That is because I have been taken behind the scenes,” he said. “I have been shown, as is the privilege of ambassadors, the mind of our rulers. You, my friend,” he went on, “spent your youth amongst the military faction. You think that you are the most important people in Germany. Well, you are not. The Kaiser has willed it otherwise. By-the-by, I had yesterday a most extraordinary cable from Stephanie.”