Mr. Marx's Secret by E. Phillips Oppenheim
CHAPTER XLII. NEWS OF MR. MARX.
For a moment or two I remained quite silent, for the simple reason that Iwas far too astonished to make any remark. My new acquaintance satlooking at me with slightly-raised eyebrows and carelessly toying withhis eyeglass; yet, notwithstanding his apparent nonchalance, I feltsomehow aware that he was watching me keenly.
"My name appears to be a surprise to you," he remarked, keeping his eyesfixed steadily upon my face. "Have you heard it before, may I ask?"
"Yes," I assented, "one of the fellows down at Borden Tower----"
"What, you know Leonard?" he interrupted. "Egad! how strange! Then youare one of Dr. Randall's pupils, I suppose?"
"Yes; I have only been there a very short time, though. And Leonardis----"
"My son."
I looked at him intently. Now that the fact itself had been suggested tome, I could certainly trace come faint likeness. But what puzzled me mostwas that he seemed also to remind me, although more vaguely, of someoneelse, whom I could not call to mind at all. Neither did he seemparticularly anxious for me to assist him, for, as though somewhatannoyed at my close scrutiny, he rose abruptly to his feet.
"Come, what do you say to cigarettes and coffee? We are outstayingeverybody here."
I followed him downstairs into the smoke-room. We seated ourselves upon aluxurious divan, and the Count immediately began to talk about his son.
"And so you know Leonard? How strange! Do you see much of one another?"
"Naturally, considering that there are only three of us at Dr.Randall's," I reminded him.
"Ah, just so! And your other fellow pupil is young Lord Silchester, is henot? Rather an awkward number, three. Do you all chum together prettywell?"
What was I to say? I could not tell him that my relations with his sonwere decidedly inimical; so, after a moment's hesitation, I answered alittle evasively:
"I'm afraid we're not a very sociable trio. You see, Cis and I are verykeen on out-of-door amusements, and your son rather prefers reading."
He nodded.
"Yes; I quite understand. You and Lord Silchester are thoroughly English,and essentially so in your tastes and love of sport. Leonard, now, ismore than half a foreigner. His mother was an Austrian lady, and I myselfam of French extraction. By the by, Mr. Morton, may I ask you aquestion--in confidence?" he added slowly.
"Certainly."
"It is about Leonard. I don't think that you need have any scruples abouttelling me, for I am his father, you know, and have a certain right toknow everything about him."
He looked at me gravely, as though for confirmation of his words, and Isilently expressed my assent. Leonard de Cartienne was nothing to me; andif his father was going to ask me the question which I hoped he was, heshould have a straightforward answer.
"I sent my son to Dr. Randall's," he began, sinking his voice to aconfidential whisper, "not because he was backward in his studies--forsuch is not, I believe, the case--but because he has unfortunatelyinherited a very deplorable taste. I found it out only by accident, andit was a very great shock to me. Leonard is fond--too fond--of playingcards for money. I thought that at Borden Tower he would have noopportunity for indulging this lamentable weakness; but from what I haverecently heard about Dr. Randall, it has occurred to me that he isperhaps a little too much of the student and too little of theschoolmaster. You understand me? I mean that he is perhaps so closelywrapped up in his private work, that after the hours which he gives tohis pupils for instruction they may secure almost as much liberty asthough they were at college."
"That's just it," I answered: "and, M. de Cartienne, now that you havespoken to me of it, I will tell you something. Your son does play a gooddeal with Lord Silchester. I know that this is so, for I have playedmyself occasionally."
"And Lord Silchester wins, I presume?"
Something in the Count's tone as he asked the question, and something inhis face as I glanced up, did not please me. Both seemed to tell the sametale, both somehow seemed to imply that his question to me was altogethersarcastic, and that he knew the contrary to be the case.
It was the first gleam of mistrust which I had felt towards my newacquaintance, and it did not last, for the expression of deep concern andannoyance with which he heard my answer seemed too natural to be assumed.
"On the contrary, your son always wins," I told him drily.
His finely-pencilled dark eyebrows almost met in a heavy frown, and hethrew his cigarette away impatiently.
"I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Morton, for answering my question," hesaid; "but I needn't tell you that I'm very sorry to hear what you say.Something must be done with Mr. Leonard at once."
He lit another cigarette and threw himself back in a corner of the divan.Then I made up my mind to speak to him on the subject which was uppermostin my mind.
"You know a Mr. Marx, I believe? I was inquiring for him at the hoteloffice this afternoon, and they told me that you were forwarding hisletters. Could you give me his address?"
M. de Cartienne removed his cigarette from his teeth, and looked dubious.
"Yes, I know Marx; know him well," he admitted; "but your request puts mein rather an awkward position. You see, this is how the matter lies," headded, leaning forward confidentially. "Marx and I are old friends, andhe's been of great service to me more than once, and never asked for anyreturn. Well, I met him--I won't say when, but it wasn't long ago--inPall Mall, and he hailed me as the very man he was most anxious to meet.We lunched together, and then he told me what he wanted. He was in Londonfor a short while, he said, and wished to remain perfectly incognito.There would be letters for him, he said, at the Metropole. Would I fetchthem, and forward them to him at an address which he would give me, oncondition that I gave him my word of honour to keep it secret? I asked,naturally, what reason he had for going into hiding; for virtually thatis what it seemed to me to be; but he would give me no definite answer.Would I do him this favour or not? he asked. And, remembering the manyservices which he had rendered me, I found it quite impossible to refuse.That is my position. I'm really extremely sorry not to be able to helpyou, but you see for yourself that I cannot."
His tone was perfectly serious and his manner earnest. I had not thefaintest shadow of doubt as to his sincerity.
"You can't help me at all then?" I said, no doubt with some of thedisappointment which I felt in my tone.
He looked doubtful.
"Well, I don't quite know about that," he said slowly, as though weighingsomething over in his mind. "Look here, Mr. Morton," he added, franklyenough, "what do you want with the man? Is it anything unpleasant?"
"Not at all," I answered. "I do not wish any harm to Mr. Marx unless hedeserves it. I want to ask him a few questions, that's all. Unless theman's a perfect scoundrel he will be able to answer them satisfactorily,and my having discovered his whereabouts will not harm him. If, on theother hand, he cannot answer those questions, why, then, you may take myword for it, M. de Cartienne, that he's an unmitigated blackguard,perfectly unworthy of your friendship, and undeserving of the slightestconsideration from you."
M. de Cartienne nodded and leaned forward, with his arm across the divan.
"You put the matter very plainly," he said, "and what you say is fairenough. I'll tell you how far I am prepared to help you. I won't tell youMr. Marx's address, because I have pledged my word not to divulge it;but, if you like, I'll take you where there will be a very fair chance ofyour seeing him."
"He is in London, then?"
The Count shrugged his shoulders and smiled slightly.
"Permit me to keep my word in the letter, if not in the spirit," heanswered. "I am going to spend my evening in this way; I am going, firstof all, to a theatre for an hour or so; then I am going to call at acouple of clubs, and afterwards I am going to a club of a somewhatdifferent sort. If you like to be my companion for the evening I shall becharmed; and if it should happen that we run up
"Thanks. I'll come with you with pleasure!" I answered withouthesitation.
He stood up underneath the soft glare of the electric light, and as Iturned towards him something in his face puzzled me. It was gone directlymy eyes met his--gone, but not before it had left a curious impression.It seemed almost as though a triumphant light had flashed for an instantin his bright, steel-coloured eyes.