Tales of Mystery & Suspense: 25+ Thrillers in One Edition. E. Phillips Oppenheim

declared quietly.

      "About Miss Fielding then?"

      "Phyllis Poynton and Miss Fielding are two very different persons," Duncombe declared.

      "That may be so," Pelham said, "although I find it hard to believe that God ever gave to two women voices so exactly similar. Yet if you are assured that this is so, why not be altogether frank with me?"

      "What have you to complain of?" Duncombe asked.

      "Something has happened at Runton Place, in which Mr. Fielding and his daughter are concerned," Pelham continued. "I have heard all manner of strange rumors. This afternoon I distinctly heard the girl's voice in the lane outside. She was crying out as though in fear. A few minutes later I heard you speaking to some one in the library. Yet when I entered the room you would not answer me."

      "Supposing I grant everything that you say, Andrew," Duncombe answered. "Supposing I admit that strange things have happened with regard to Mr. Fielding and his daughter which have resulted in their leaving Runton Place—even that she was there in the lane this afternoon—how does all this concern you?"

      "Because," Pelham declared, striking the table with his fist, "I am not satisfied that the girl who has been staying at Runton Place, and calling herself Miss Fielding, is not in reality Phyllis Poynton."

      Duncombe lit a cigarette, and passed the box round.

      "Do you know what they are saying to-night of Mr. Fielding and his daughter?" he asked quietly.

      "No!"

      "That the one is a robber, and the other an adventuress," Duncombe answered. "This much is certainly true. They have both left Runton Place at a moment's notice, and without taking leave of their host and hostess. Remember, I never knew Phyllis Poynton. You did! Ask yourself whether she is the sort of young person to obtain hospitality under false pretences, and then abuse it—to associate herself in a fraud with a self-confessed robber."

      "The idea," Pelham said quietly, "is absurd."

      "While we are on the subject," Spencer remarked, drawing the cigarettes towards him, "may I ask you a few questions, Mr. Pelham? For instance, had Miss Poynton any relations in France?"

      "Not to my knowledge," Pelham answered. "I have known both her and her brother for a great many years, and I never heard either of them mention any."

      "Why did she go to Paris, then?"

      "To meet her brother."

      "And why did he go abroad?"

      "It was a whim, I think. Just a desire to see a few foreign countries before he settled down to live the life of a country gentleman."

      "You believe that he had no other reason?"

      "I think I may go so far as to say that I am sure of it," Pelham answered.

      "One more question," Spencer added, intervening.

      But the question remained unasked. The butler had opened the dining-room door and was announcing Lord Runton.

      Duncombe rose to his feet in surprise. For the moment a sudden fear drew the color from his cheeks.

      He looked apprehensively towards his unexpected visitor. Lord Runton, however, showed no signs of any great discomposure. He was wearing his ordinary dinner clothes, and in reply to Duncombe's first question assured him that he had dined.

      "I will try a glass of your port, if I may, George," he declared. "Thanks!"

      The butler had wheeled a chair up to the table for him, and left the room. Lord Runton filled his glass and sent the decanter round. Then he turned towards Spencer, to whom he had just been introduced.

      "Mr. Spencer," he said, "my visit to-night is mainly to you. I dare say you are aware that a somewhat unpleasant thing has happened at my house. My people tell me that you called there this morning and inquired for Mr. Fielding."

      Spencer nodded.

      "Quite true," he answered. "I called, but did not see him. He appears to have left somewhat hurriedly while I was waiting."

      "You did not even catch a glimpse of him?"

      "No!"

      "You know Mr. Fielding by sight, I presume?"

      "I have seen him in Paris once or twice," Spencer answered.

      "You will not think me impertinent for asking you these questions, I am sure," Lord Runton continued apologetically, "but could you describe Mr. Fielding to me?"

      "Certainly," Spencer answered. "He was tall and thin, wears glasses, was clean-shaven, bald, and limped a little."

      Lord Runton nodded.

      "Thank you," he said. "I presume that your visit this morning was one of courtesy. You are acquainted with Mr. Fielding?"

      "I have not that pleasure," Spencer answered. "I am afraid I must confess that my visit was purely one of curiosity."

      "Curiosity!" Lord Runton repeated.

      "Exactly. Do you mind passing those excellent cigarettes of yours, Duncombe?"

      Lord Runton hesitated for a moment. He was conscious of a certain restraint in Spencer's answers. Suddenly he turned towards him.

      "Mr. Spencer," he said, "may I ask if you are Mr. Jarvis Spencer, of the 'Daily Messenger'—the Mr. Spencer who was mentioned in connection with the investigations into the Lawson estates?"

      Spencer nodded.

      "Yes," he said, "I am that person."

      "Then," Lord Runton continued, "I want to tell you exactly what has happened to-day in my house, and to ask your advice. May I?"

      "If our host has no objection," Spencer answered, glancing towards Pelham.

      "None whatever," Duncombe answered, also glancing towards Pelham.

      There was a moment's silence. Pelham raised his head.

      "If Lord Runton desires it, I will withdraw," he said slowly. "At the same time I must confess that I, too, am interested in this matter. If Lord Runton has no objection to my presence I should like to remain. My discretion goes without saying."

      Duncombe moved uneasily in his chair. His eyes sought Spencer's for guidance, but found his head averted. Lord Runton raised his eyebrows slightly at what he considered a somewhat vulgar curiosity, but his reply was prompt.

      "You are a friend of Duncombe's, Mr. Pelham," he said, "and that is enough. I have to ask not only you, but all three of you, to consider what I am going to tell you as absolutely confidential."

      They all signified their assent. Lord Runton continued:—

      "Mr. and Miss Fielding came to me with letters from my brother, and with many convincing proofs of their identity. We none of us had the slightest suspicion concerning them. Their behavior was exactly what it should have been. Nothing about them excited remark in any way, except the unusual number of telegrams and telephone messages which Mr. Fielding was always receiving. That, however, was quite in accord with our ideas of an American business man, and didn't seem to us in the least remarkable."

      "The telegrams were delivered through a neighboring office?" Spencer asked quietly.

      "Yes," Lord Runton answered, "but they were all in code. I happen to know that because the postmaster brought the first one up himself, and explained that he was afraid that he must have made some mistake as the message was incomprehensible. Fielding only laughed, and gave the man a sovereign. The message was absolutely correct, he declared. He told me afterwards that whenever he was speculating he always coded his messages, and it seemed perfectly reasonable."

      Spencer nodded.

      "Just so!" he murmured.

      "This morning," Lord Runton continued, "Mr. Fielding rather upset our plans. We were all to have spent the day at the Duke's, and dined there. There was a big shoot for the men, as you know. At