TO MRS. MALPLAQUET'S
Clasping Barbara's wrist in a bony grip, Mrs. Malplaquet sat at the girl's side in the back seat of the limousine whilst Bellward placed himself on the seat opposite. The car was powerfully engined; and, once the cart track up to the inn was passed and the main road reached, Strangwise opened her out.
By the track leading to the inn the high road made a right angle turn to the right. This turn they took, leaving the Mill House away in the distance to the left of them, and, after skirting the fen for some way and threading a maze of side roads, presently debouched on a straight, broad road.
Dazed and shaken by her experiences, Barbara lost all count of time, but after running for some time through the open country in the gray light of dawn, they reached the edge of those long tentacles of bricks and mortar which London thrusts out from her on every side. The outer fringes of the metropolis were still sleeping as the great car roared by. The snug " High Streets,"the red brick "Parades" and "Broadways," with their lines of houses with blinds drawn, seemed to have their eyes shut, so blank, so somnolent was their aspect.
With their lamps alight, the first trams were gliding out to begin the new day, as the big car swiftly traversed the eastern suburbs of London. To Barbara, who had had her home at Seven Kings, there was something familiar about the streets as they flickered by; but her powers of observation were dulled, so great was the sense of helplessness that weighed her down.
High-booted scavengers with curious snake-like lengths of hose on little trolleys were sluicing the asphalt as the limousine snorted past the Mansion House into Poultney and Cheapside. The light was growing clearer now; the tube stations were open and from time to time a motor-bus whizzed by.
Barbara stirred restlessly and Mrs. Malplaquet's grip on her wrist tightened.
"Where are you taking me?" the girl said.
Mrs. Malplaquet spoke a single word.
"Bellward!" she said in a gentle voice; but it was a voice of command.
Bellward leaned forward.
"Look at me, Miss Mackwayte!" he said.
There was a curious insistence in his voice that made Barbara obey. She struggled for a moment against the impulse to do his bidding; for some agency within her told her to resist the summons. But an irresistible force seemed to draw her eyes to his. Bellward did not move. He simply leaned forward a little, his hands on his knees, and looked at her. Barbara could not see his eyes, for the light in the car was still dim, but inch by inch they captured hers.
She looked at the black outline of his head and instantly was conscious of a wave of magnetic power that transmitted itself from his will to hers. She would have cried out, have struggled, have sought to break away; but that invisible dance held her as in a vice. A little gasp broke from her lips; but that was all.
"So!" said Bellward with the little sigh of a man who has just accomplished some bodily effort, "so! you will keep quiet now and do as I tell you. You understand?"No reply came from the girl. She had thrust her head forward and was gazing fixedly at the man. Bellward leaned towards the girl until his stubbly hair actually touched her soft brown curls. He was gazing intently at her eyes.
He was apparently well satisfied with his inspection, for he gave a sigh of satisfaction and turned to Mrs. Malplaquet.
"She'll give no more trouble now!" he remarked airily.
"Ah! Bellward," sighed Mrs. Malplaquet, "you're incomparable!
What an undefeatable combination you and I would have made if we'd met twenty years sooner!"And she threw him a coquettish glance.
"Ah, indeed!" returned Bellward pensively. "But a night like this makes me feel twenty years older, Minna. He's a daredevil, this Strangwise. Imagine going back to that infernal inn when the police might have broken in on us any minute. But he is a determined chap. He doesn't seem to know what it is to be beaten.
He wanted to make sure that Nur-el-Din had not recovered the jewel from him, though he declares that it has never left him day or night since he got possession of it. He fairly made hay of her room back at the inn there.""Well," said Mrs. Malplaquet rather spitefully, "he seems to be beaten this time. He hasn't found his precious Star of Poland.""No," answered the man reflectively, but I think he will!"Mrs. Malplaquet laughed shrilly.
