chapter 13 van aldin gets a telegram

on the afternoon of the 15th february a thick yellow fog had settled down on london.

rufus van aldin was in his suite at the savoy and was making the most of the atmospheric conditions by working double time. knighton was overjoyed. he had found it difficult of late to get his employer to concentrate on the matters in hand. when he had ventured to urge certain courses, van aldin had put him off with a curt word. but now van aldin seemed to be throwing himself into work with redoubled energy, and the secretary made the most of his opportunities. always tactful, he plied the spur so unobtrusively that van aldin never suspected it.

yet in the middle of this absorption in business matters, one little fact lay at the back of van aldin's mind. a chance remark of knighton's, uttered by the secretary in all unconsciousness, had given rise to it. it now festered unseen, gradually reaching further and further forward into van aldin's consciousness, until at last, in spite of himself he had to yield to its insistence.

he listened to what knighton was saying with his usual air of keen attention, but in reality not one word of it penetrated his mind. he nodded automatically, however, and the secretary turned to some other paper.

as he was sorting them out, his employer spoke:

"do you mind telling me that over again, knighton?"

for a moment knighton was at a loss.

"you mean about this, sir?" he held up a closely written company report.

"no, no," said van aldin, "what you told me about seeing ruth's maid in paris last night. i can't make it out. you must have been mistaken."

"i can't have been mistaken, sir, i actually spoke to her."

"well, tell me the whole thing again."

knighton complied.

"i had fixed up the deal with barthermers," he explained, "and had gone back to the ritz to pick up my traps preparatory to having dinner and catching the nine o'clock train from the gare du nord. at the reception desk i saw a woman whom i was quite sure was mrs kettering's maid. i went up to her and asked if mrs kettering was staying there."

"yes, yes," said van aldin. "of course. naturally. and she told you that ruth had gone on to the riviera and had sent her to the ritz to await further orders there?"

"exactly that, sir."

"it is very odd," said van aldin. "very odd, indeed, unless the woman had been impertinent or something of that kind."

"in that case," objected knighton, "surely mrs kettering would have paid her down a sum of money, and told her to go back to england. she would hardly have sent her to the ritz."

"no," muttered the millionaire, "that's true."

he was about to say something further, but checked himself. he was fond of knighton and liked and trusted him, but he could hardly discuss his daughter's private affairs with his secretary. he had already felt hurt by ruth's lack of frankness, and this chance revelation which had come to him did nothing to allay his misgivings.

why had ruth got rid of her maid in paris? what possible object or motive could she have had in so doing?

he reflected for a moment or two on the curious combination of chance. how should it have occurred to ruth, except as the wildest coincidence, that the first person that the maid should run across in paris should be her father's secretary? ah, but that was the way things happened. that was the way things got found out.

he winced at the last phrase, it had arisen with complete naturalness to his mind. was there then 'something to be found out'? he hated to put this question to himself; he had no doubt of the answer. the answer was - he was sure of it - armand de la roche.

it was bitter to van aldin that a daughter of his should be gulled by such a man, yet he was forced to admit that she was in good company - that other well-bred and intelligent women had succumbed just as easily to the count's fascination. men saw through him, women did not.

he sought now for a phrase that would allay any suspicion that his secretary might have felt.

"ruth is always changing her mind about things at a moment's notice," he remarked; and then he added in a would-be careless tone, "the maid didn't give any - er - reason for this change of plan?"

knighton was careful to make his voice as natural as possible as he replied:

"she said, sir, that mrs kettering had met a friend unexpectedly."

"is that so?"

the secretary's practised ears caught the note of strain underlying the seemingly casual tone.

"oh, i see. man or woman?"

"i think she said a man, sir."

van aldin nodded. his worst fears were being realized. he rose from his chair, and began pacing up and down the room, a habit of his when agitated. unable to contain his feelings any longer, he burst forth:

"there is one thing no man can do, and that is to get a woman to listen to reason. somehow or other, they don't seem to have any kind of sense. talk of woman's instinct - why, it is well known all the world over that a woman is the surest mark for any rascally swindler. not one in ten of them knows a scoundrel when she meets one; they can be preyed on by any good-looking fellow with a soft side to his tongue. if i had my way -"

he was interrupted. a page-boy entered with a telegram. van aldin tore it open, and his face went a sudden chalky white. he caught hold of the back of a chair to steady himself, and waved the page-boy from the room.

"what's the matter, sir?"

knighton had risen in concern.

"ruth!" said van aldin hoarsely.

"mrs kettering?"

"killed!"

"an accident to the train?"

van aldin shook his head.

"no. from this it seems she has been robbed as well. they don't use the word, knighton, but my poor girl has been murdered."

"oh, my god, sir!"

van aldin tapped the telegram with his forefinger.

"this is from the police at nice. i must go out there by the first train."

knighton was efficient as ever. he glanced at the clock.

"five o'clock from victoria, sir."

"that's right. you will come with me, knighton. tell my man, archer, and pack your own things. see to everything here. i want to go round to curzon street."

the telephone rang sharply, and the secretary tilted the receiver.

"yes; who is it?"

then to van aldin.

"mr goby, sir."

"goby? i can't see him now. no - wait, we have plenty of time. tell them to send him up."

van aldin was a strong man. already he had recovered that iron calm of his. few people would have noticed anything amiss in his greeting to mr goby.

"i am pressed for time, goby. got anything important to tell me?"

mr goby coughed.

"the movements of mr kettering, sir. you wished them reported to you."

"yes - well?"

"mr kettering, sir, left london for the riviera yesterday morning."

"what?"

something in his voice must have startled mr goby. that worthy gentleman departed from his usual practice of never looking at a person to whom he was talking, and stole a fleeting glance at the millionaire.

"what train did he go on?" demanded van aldin.

"the blue train, sir."

mr goby coughed again and spoke to the clock on the

mantelpiece.

"mademoiselle mirelle, the dancer from the parthenon, went by the same train."

第十三章 电告冯·阿尔丁

二月十三日下午伦敦下着大雾，在这天出门，心情是不会好的。鲁夫斯·冯·阿尔丁在种天气里不顾医生的嘱咐，竭力干着自己的工作。奈顿对此十分高兴。百万富翁这几天总是不能把精力集中在工作上。当秘书有什么重要的事向他报告时候，他虽听着也心不在焉。可是，今天这位美国佬却加倍地工作着。

但总是觉得有点什么使他安不下心来。他的秘书偶然间发现了这一点。看来，美国佬好象是聚精会神地听着秘书的报告，而实际上，他几乎一个字也没听清。他只是机械地点着头。秘书正要拿另外一个卷宗，主人说道：

“你能不能再同我讲一下，奈顿？”

秘书好象没有完全听懂是指什么事。

“您是指这个事情吗，先生？”他指着一个业务卷宗说道。

“不，不，” 冯·阿尔丁说，“我是说，您说过，昨天您曾在巴黎看到露丝的女仆，昨天晚上。这一点我有点不理解。您弄错了吧？”

“我没有弄错，先生，我同她当面谈过话。”

“请您再讲一下整个见面的过程。”

奈顿倒是很听话，他说道：“我同巴尔特梅公司会谈结束之后就到里茨去了，到那里去取一件东西。当时我想吃完晚饭就去北站乘诺依列车回来。在饭店的大厅里我看到一个女人，马上就认出了她就是凯特林女士的女仆。我当时还问她凯特林女士是否也在这里下了车。”

“噢，”冯·阿尔丁说，“然后女仆就告诉您说，露丝继续乘火车去利维埃拉，把她留在里茨，等着主人的新指示。”

“对，就是这样，先生。”

“真奇怪！”冯·阿尔丁说，“真是奇怪得很啊。也许这个女人在火车上的行为不端，使我女儿不愿意同她一起旅行。”

“如果是这种情况的话，”奈顿插话说，“那么凯特林女士就会给她钱让她回英国了。让她呆在里茨饭店，对她可不太合适。”

“可是她并没有这样做。”百万富翁嘟哝了一句。“您说得有理。”

他本来还想说什么，但没有说出口。他很相信奈顿，但无论如何不能把女儿的私事讲给秘书听。露丝对他隐瞒了一些事情，这早就伤了他的心，这个意外的消息使他更为烦恼。

为什么露丝把女仆留在了巴黎？有些事是多么的蹊跷！露丝当然怎么也不会想到，同女仆第一个见面的竟是父亲的秘书。可是，事情就是这样凑巧，人们就是这样搞阴谋的。

他怎么也摆脱不了这种想法。真会是一种阴谋？他尽可能想独自找出一个答案来。

答案就是阿尔曼特·德·拉·罗歇。这一点是不容置疑的。

对冯·阿尔丁来说这是一件非常痛苦的事：正是他的女儿被这样一种人愚弄了。他知道，他的女儿出身高贵，不会象别的女人那样容易受伯爵的欺骗，但是，她很容易看透一个男人，对女人她却没有这种能力。

他想找个借口来消除秘书的怀疑。“露丝总是这样，经常改变自己的计划。”他说道。“为什么她要突然改变自己的旅行计划？这一点女仆没有对您提起过？”

奈顿尽量控制自己说话的声调，显得自然一些，他回答说：

“女仆说，凯特林女士偶然遇到了一个熟人。”

“噢，遇到了一个熟人。她是说遇到了一个女熟人？”

“据我所知，她说的是一位先生。”

冯·阿尔丁点了一下头。他心里充满了恐惧。他站起来，如同往常在情绪激动时那样，在屋里来回走动。他无法控制自己的感情，终于脱口说出：“难道一个女人就是这样难以理解吗？人们经常谈论着，女人的本性是善良的，完全是胡说八道。她竟会完全投入这个坏蛋的怀抱。这个恶棍的本事就是把自己打扮得漂亮一点，表演一点骗人的把戏。如果他到我这里来……”

他收住了话头。这时有一个小佣人拿来一封电报。冯·阿尔丁看着电报，脸面刷地一下子变得惨白。他扶住了椅子背，免得跌倒在地，向小佣人一挥手，让他出去。

“发生了什么事？先生？”

奈顿很关心地看了他的主人一眼。

“露丝！”冯·阿尔丁的嗓子有些噎住了。

“凯特林女士遇到了什么不幸？”

“死了！”

“太可怕了，是火车出了事？”

冯·阿尔丁摇了一下头。

“不是，我的孩子被人谋杀了。”

“简直是天晓得！”

电报从冯·阿尔丁的那只似乎已经瘫痪的手中飘落到地面上。

“电报是从尼扎警察局打来的，我必须……马上……”

他没有告诉奈顿必须干什么，可是奈顿却看了一下手表说道：

“五点整，从维多利亚火车站发车。”

“好！你陪我去，奈顿，你向下面的人员交待一下，给我整理一下箱子。把急着要办的事先办一下；我要到我女儿的房间里去一趟。”

电话铃响了，奈顿拿起了听筒。

“谁啊？”

然后他向冯·阿尔丁说道：

“是戈比，先生。”

“戈比？我现在不想见他。不，等一下，我们还有时间。让他来吧。”

冯·阿尔丁是个坚强的人，现在他已经镇静下来。当他同戈比握手时，他的话音同平时一样。

“我现在很忙，您找我有什么重要的事吗？”

戈比咳嗽了一声。

“您不是要听一下关于凯特林先生的情况吗，先生？”

“是的，怎样？”

“凯特林先生昨天上午到利维埃拉去了。”

“您说什么？”

他的声音几乎使戈比晕了过去。这个经验丰富的老滑头在同对手谈话时从不看对方，这次却斜眼看了看百万富翁。

“他乘的是哪一次车？”冯·阿尔丁问道。

“‘蓝色特快’！“戈比又咳了一声，望着壁炉上面的挂钟说道：

“米蕾小姐，就是那位帕泰农的舞女也同车前往。”