The Great Secret | Page 3

were well and fashionably cut, and
his socks were of silk, with small colored clocks. The fingers were
white and delicate, and his nails well cared for. There was one thing
more, the most noticeable of all perhaps. Although his face was the
face of a young man, his hair was as white as snow.
"Look here," I said to him, "can't you give me some explanation as to
what all this means? You haven't been getting yourself into trouble,
have you?"
"Trouble!" he repeated vaguely, with his eyes fixed upon the door.
"With the police!" I explained.
"No, these are not the police," he answered.
"I don't mind a row particularly," I continued, "but I like to know
something about it. What do these people want with you?"
"My life!" he answered grimly.
"Why?"
"I cannot tell you!"
A sudden and ridiculously obvious idea struck me for the first time. A
small electric bell and telephone instrument were by the side of the bed.

I leaned over and pressed the knob with my finger. My companion half
glanced towards me, and back again instantly towards the door.
"No use," he muttered, "they will not come!"
Whereupon a thoroughly British sentiment was aroused in me. Of the
liberties which had been taken with my room, both by this man and by
his pursuers, I scarcely thought, but that any one should presume to
interfere with my rights as an hotel guest angered me! I kept my finger
on the knob of the bell; I summoned chambermaid, waiter, valet and
boots. It was all to no effect. No one came. The telephone remained
silent. The door was on the point of yielding.
I abandoned my useless efforts, and turned towards the man whom I
was sheltering.
"How many are there in the next room?" I asked.
"Two!"
"If I stand by you, will you obey me?"
He hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded.
"Yes!"
"Get behind the bed then, and give me the revolver."
He parted with it reluctantly. I took it into my hand, only just in time.
The door at last had burst away from its hinges. With perfect
self-possession I saw one of the two men who had been engaged in its
demolition calmly lean it up against the wall. The other stared at me as
though I had been a ghost.
CHAPTER II
A MIDNIGHT RAID
I could see at once that neither of the two men who confronted me had

really believed that the room into which their victim had escaped was
already occupied by any other person than the one of whom they were
in pursuit. Their expression of surprise was altogether genuine. I myself
was, perhaps, equally taken aback. Nothing in their appearance
suggested in the least the midnight assassin! I turned towards the one
who had leaned the door up against the wall, and addressed him.
"May I ask to what I am indebted for the pleasure of this unexpected
visit?" I inquired.
The man took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. He was
short and stout, with a bushy brown beard, and eyes which blinked at
me in amazement from behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. He wore a
grey tweed travelling suit, and brown boots. He had exactly the air of a
prosperous middle-class tradesman from the provinces.
"I am afraid, sir," he said, "that we have made a mistake--in which case
we shall owe you a thousand apologies. We are in search of a friend
whom we certainly believed that we had seen enter your room."
Now all the time he was talking his eyes were never still. Every inch of
my room that was visible they ransacked. His companion, too, was
engaged in the same task. There were no traces of my visitor to be seen.
"You can make your apologies and explanations to the management in
the morning," I answered grimly "Pardon me!"
I held out my arm across the threshold, and for the first time looked at
the other man who had been on the point of entering. He was slight and
somewhat sallow, with very high forehead and small deep-set eyes. He
was dressed in ordinary evening clothes, the details of which, however,
betrayed his status. He wore a heavy gold chain, a dinner coat, and a
made-up white tie, with the ends tucked in under a roll collar. He
appeared to be objectionable, but far from dangerous.
"You are still a trifle over-anxious respecting the interior of my room!"
I remarked, pushing him gently back.

He spoke to me for the first time. He spoke slowly and formally, and
his accent struck me as being a little foreign.
"Sir," he said, "you may not be aware that the person of whom we are
in search is a dangerous,