The Great Impersonation by E. Phillips Oppenheim (books to read now txt) 📕

“Does Eddy do anything for a living?” Caroline asked, yawning.

“Mr. Pelham is a director of the Chelsea Motor Works,” Mangan told them. “He received a small legacy last year, and his favourite taxicab man was the first to know about it.”

“You’re not suggesting,” she exclaimed, “that it is business of that sort which has taken Eddy away!”

“I should think it most improbable,” Mangan confessed. “As a matter of fact, he asked me the other day if I knew where their premises were.”

“We shall miss him,” she acknowledged. “It was quite one of the events of the day to see his costume after shooting.”

“His bridge was reasonably good,” the Duke commented.

“He shot rather well the last two days,” Mangan remarked.

“And he had told me confidentially,” Caroline concluded, “that he was going to wear brown today. Now I think Eddy would have looked nice in brown.”

The missing young man’s requiem was finished by the arrival of the local morning papers. A few moments later Dominey rose and left the room. Seaman, who had been unusually silent, followed him.

“My friend,” he confided, “I do not know whether you have heard, but there was a curious disappearance from the Hall last night.”

“Whose?” Dominey asked, pausing in the act of selecting a cigarette.

“Our friend Miller, or Wolff⁠—Doctor Schmidt’s emissary,” Seaman announced, “has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Dominey repeated. “I suppose he is having a prowl round somewhere.”

“I have left it to you to make more careful enquiries,” Seaman replied. “All I can tell you is that I made up my mind last night to interview him once more and try to fathom his very mysterious behaviour. I found the door of your butler’s sitting-room locked, and a very civil fellow⁠—Mr. Pelham’s valet he turned out to be⁠—told me that he had left in the car which went for the evening papers.”

“I will go and make some enquiries,” Dominey decided, after a moment’s puzzled consideration.

“If you please,” Seaman acquiesced. “The affair disconcerts me because I do not understand it. When there is a thing which I do not understand, I am uncomfortable.”

Dominey vanished into the nether regions, spent half an hour with Rosamund, and saw nothing of his disturbed guest again until they were walking to the first wood. They had a moment together after Dominey had pointed out the stands.

“Well?” Seaman enquired.

“Our friend,” Dominey announced, “apparently made up his mind to go quite suddenly. A bed was arranged for him⁠—or rather it is always there⁠—in a small apartment opening out of the butler’s room, on the ground floor. He said nothing about leaving until he saw Parkins preparing to go down to the station with the chauffeur. Then he insisted upon accompanying him, and when he found there was a train to Norwich he simply bade them both good night. He left no message whatever for either you or me.”

Seaman was thoughtful.

“There is no doubt,” he said, “that his departure was indicative of a certain distrust in us. He came to find out something, and I suppose he found it out. I envy you your composure, my friend. We live on the brink of a volcano, and you shoot pheasants.”

“We will try a partridge for a change,” Dominey observed, swinging round as a single Frenchman with a dull whiz crossed the hedge behind them and fell a little distance away, a crumpled heap of feathers. “Neat, I think?” he added, turning to his companion.

“Marvellous!” Seaman replied, with faint sarcasm. “I envy your nerve.”

“I cannot take this matter very seriously,” Dominey acknowledged. “The fellow seemed to me quite harmless.”

“My anxieties have also been aroused in another direction,” Seaman confided.

“Any other trouble looming?” Dominey asked.

“You will find yourself minus another guest when you return this afternoon.”

“The Princess?”

“The Princess,” Seaman assented. “I did my best with her last night, but I found her in a most peculiar frame of mind. We are to be relieved of any anxiety concerning her for some time, however. She has decided to take a sea voyage.”

“Where to?”

“Africa!”

Dominey paused in the act of inserting a cartridge into his gun. He turned slowly around and looked into his companion’s expressionless face.

“Why the mischief is she going out there?” he asked.

“I can no more tell you that,” Seaman replied, “than why Johann Wolff was sent over here to spy upon our perfect work. I am most unhappy, my friend. The things which I understand, however threatening they are, I do not fear. Things which I do not understand oppress me.”

Dominey laughed quietly.

“Come,” he said, “there is nothing here which seriously threatens our position. The Princess is angry, but she is not likely to give us away. This man Wolff could make no adverse report about either of us. We are doing our job and doing it well. Let our clear consciences console us.”

“That is well,” Seaman replied, “but I feel uneasy. I must not stay here longer. Too intimate an association between you and me is unwise.”

“Well, I think I can be trusted,” Dominey observed, “even if I am to be left alone.”

“In every respect except as regards the Princess,” Seaman admitted, “your deportment has been most discreet.”

“Except as regards the Princess,” Dominey repeated irritably. “Really, my friend, I cannot understand your point of view in this matter. You could not expect me to mix up a secret honeymoon with my present commitments!”

“There might surely have been some middle way?” Seaman persisted. “You show so much tact in other matters.”

“You do not know the Princess,” Dominey muttered.

Rosamund joined them for luncheon, bringing news of Stephanie’s sudden departure, with notes and messages for everybody. Caroline made a little grimace at her host.

“You’re in trouble!” she whispered in his ear. “All the same, I approve. I like Stephanie, but she is an exceedingly dangerous person.”

“I wonder whether she is,” Dominey mused.

“I think men have generally found her so,” Caroline replied. “She had one wonderful love affair, which ended, as you know, in her husband being killed in a duel and her lover being banished from the country. Still,