THE CLOSED DOORS
Alone of all the London newspapers, the Watchman appeared next day of in respect to the Middle Temple Murder. The other daily published more or less of the of Mr. Stephen Aylmore, M.P. for the Brookminster Division, as the ci-devant Stephen Ainsworth, ex-convict, once upon a time and of the Hearth and Home Mutual Benefit Society, the of which had been at Cloudhampton, in Daleshire; the of which had thousands of in terrible if not in ruin. Most of them had up Ainsworth's past to purpose: it had been an easy to turn up old files, to the of the Hearth and Home, to tell the of the of the small had gone in the crash; it had been easy, too, to set out again the history of Ainsworth's arrest, trial, and fate. There was of in the story: it was that of a man who by his financial ability had up a great society; had—as was alleged—converted the large to him to his own purposes; had been and punished; had disappeared, after his punishment, so that no one where he had gone; had come back, a years later, under another name, a very rich man, and had entered Parliament and been, in a way, a public without any of those who him in his new career that he had once a dress with the arrow. Fine copy, excellent copy: some of the newspapers a of of it.
But the Watchman, up to then easily ahead of all its in the public of all the latest news in with the Marbury affair, itself with a announcement. For after Rathbury had left him, Spargo had his and his editor, and had sat long in with them, and the result of their talk had been that all the Watchman fit to tell its readers next was in a paragraph:
"We that Mr. Stephen Aylmore, M.P., who is with the of John Marbury, or Maitland, in the Temple on June 21st last, was yesterday by officials as Stephen Ainsworth, who was to a term of penal in with the Hearth and Home Mutual Benefit Society nearly thirty years ago."
Coming to Fleet Street that morning, Spargo, along the of the Law Courts, a fellow-journalist, a man on an opposition newspaper, who at him in a fashion which derision.
"Left a bit, that of yours, this morning, Spargo, my boy!" he elegantly. "Why, you've missed one of the opportunities I of in with that Aylmore affair. A paragraph!—why, I off a and a in ours! What were you doing last night, old man?"
"Sleeping," said Spargo and by with a nod. "Sleeping!"
He left the other at him, and the road to Middle Temple Lane. It was just on the of eleven as he walked up the stairs to Mr. Elphick's chambers; eleven as he at the door. It is that doors are closed in the Temple at that hour, but Elphick's door was closed fast enough. The night it had been opened, but there was no response to Spargo's knock, to his second, to his third. And half-unconsciously he aloud: "Elphick's door is closed!"
It to Spargo to again: told him that Elphick's door was closed Elphick was not there; closed Elphick was not going to keep the appointment. He and walked slowly along the corridor. And just as he the of the stairs Ronald Breton, and anxious, came up them, and at of Spargo paused, at him. As if with a the two men hands.
"I'm you didn't print more than those two or three lines in the Watchman this morning," said Breton. "It was—considerate. As for the other papers!—Aylmore me last night, Spargo, that though he did that term at Dartmoor he was enough! He was for another man who disappeared."
Then, as Spargo nodded, he added, awkwardly:
"And I'm to you, too, old chap, for sending that wire to the two girls last night—it was good of you. They want all the they can get, things! But—what are you doing here, Spargo?"
Spargo against the of the stairs and his hands.
"I came here," he said, "to keep an with Mr. Elphick—an which he when I called on him, as you suggested, at nine o'clock. The appointment—a most one—was for eleven o'clock."
Breton at his watch.
"Come on, then," he said. "It's well past that now, and my guardian's a very in the of punctuality."
But Spargo did not move. Instead, he his head, Breton with eyes.
"So am I," he answered. "I was to it. Your isn't there, Breton."
"Not there? If he an for eleven? Nonsense—I him miss an appointment!"
"I three times—three times," answered Spargo.
"You should have a dozen times—he may have himself. He up late—he and old Cardlestone often up the night, talking or playing piquet," said Breton. "Come on—you'll see!"
Spargo his again.
"He's not there, Breton," he said. "He's gone!"
Breton at the journalist as if he had just that he had Mr. Septimus Elphick Fleet Street on a dromedary. He Spargo's elbow.
"Come on!" he said. "I have a key to Mr. Elphick's door, so that I can go in and out as I like. I'll soon you he's gone or not."
Spargo the the corridor.
"All the same," he said as Breton a key to the latch, "he's not there, Breton. He's—off!"
"Good heavens, man, I don't know what you're talking about!" Breton, opening the door and walking into the lobby. "Off! Where on earth should he be off to, when he's an with you for eleven, and—Hullo!"
He had opened the door of the room in which Spargo had met Elphick and Miss Baylis the night before, and was walking in when he himself up on the with a exclamation.
"Good God!" he cried. "What—what's all this?"
Spargo looked over Breton's shoulder. It needed but one quick to him that much had in that room since he had it the night before. There the easy-chair in which he had left Elphick; there, close by it, but pushed aside, as if by a hand, was the little table with its case, its syphon, its glass, in which liquid still stood; there was the novel, downwards; there, upon the novel, was Elphick's pipe. But the of the room was in confusion. The of a had been open and put back; papers of all descriptions, old legal-looking documents, old letters, the centre-table and the floor; in one of the room a black box had been opened, its about, and the left yawning. And in the grate, and all over the there were of and paper; it was only too that the of the chambers, he might have to, had some time his in a of documents and papers, and in such that he had not to put he went.
Breton at this for a moment in consternation. Then he one step an door, and Spargo him. Together they entered an room—a sleeping apartment. There was no one in it, but there were that Elphick had just as packed a as he had his papers. The which Spargo had him the previous were here, there, everywhere: the smoking-jacket was in one corner, a dress-shirt, in the of which valuable still glistened, in another. One or two about, as if they had been and in of something more portable; here, too, drawers, stocks of and underclothing, had been open and left open; open, too, the door of a wardrobe, a quantity of clothing. And Spargo, looking around him, to see all that had happened—the hasty, almost search for and up and of papers; the of clothing, of packing into a that be carried, and then the the away, the——
"What on earth all this mean?" Breton. "What is it,
Spargo?"
"I what I told you," answered Spargo. "He's off! Off!"
"Off! But why off? What—my guardian!—as an old as there is in the Temple—off!" Breton. "For what reason, eh? It isn't—good God, Spargo, it isn't of anything you said to him last night!"
"I should say it is of something that I said to him last night," Spargo. "I was a to let him out of my sight."
Breton on his and gasped.
"Out—of—your—sight!" he exclaimed. "Why—why—you don't to say that Mr. Elphick has anything to do with this Marbury affair? For God's sake, Spargo——"
Spargo a hand on the barrister's shoulder.
"I'm you'll have to a good deal, Breton," he said. "I was going to talk to you today in any case. You see——"
Before Spargo say more a woman, the which the charwoman's profession, entered the room and out at what she saw. Breton on her almost savagely.
"Here, you!" he said. "Have you anything of Mr. Elphick this morning?"
The rolled her and her hands.
"Me, sir! Not a of him, sir. Which I comes here much half-past eleven, sir, Mr. Elphick being then gone out to his breakfast. I see him yesterday morning, sir, which he was then in his of good health, sir, if any thing's the with him now. No, sir, I ain't nothing of him."
Breton let out another of impatience.
"You'd all this," he said. "Mr. Elphick's gone away in a hurry, and you mustn't touch anything here until he comes back. I'm going to lock up the chambers: if you've a key of them give it to me."
The over a key, gave another look at the rooms, and vanished, muttering, and Breton to Spargo.
"What do you say?" he demanded. "I must hear—a good deal! Out with it, then, man, for Heaven's sake."
But Spargo his head.
"Not now, Breton," he answered. "Presently, I tell you, for Miss Aylmore's sake, and your own, the thing to do is to on your guardian's track. We must—must, I say!—and at once."
Breton at Spargo for a moment as if he not his own senses. Then he Spargo out of the room.
"Come on!" he said. "I know who'll know where he is, if does."
"Who, then?" asked Spargo, as they out.
"Cardlestone," answered Breton, grimly. "Cardlestone!"
