The Yellow Crayon | Page 6

the New York, New Haven & Hartford
Depot last Friday?" he asked.
"'Well, not exactly, sir," the man answered. "The Duchess took my cab,
and the first address she gave was the New York, New Haven &
Hartford Depot, but before we'd driven a hundred yards she pulled the
check-string and ordered me to go to the Waldorf. She paid me there,
and went into the hotel."
"You have not seen her since?"
"No, sir!"
"You knew her by sight, you say. Was there anything special about her
appearance?"
The man hesitated.
"She'd a pretty thick veil on, sir, but she raised it to pay me, and I
should say she'd been crying. She was much paler, too, than last time I
drove her."
"When was that?" Mr. Sabin asked.
"In the spring, sir, - with you, begging your pardon. You were at the
Netherlands, and I drove you out several times."
"You seem," Mr. Sabin said, "to be a person with some powers of
observation. It would pay you very well indeed if you would ascertain
from any of your mates at the Waldorf when and with whom the lady in
question left that hotel."
"I'll have a try, sir," the man answered. "The Duchess was better known

here, but some of them may have recognised her."
"She had no luggage, I presume?" Mr. Sabin asked.
"Her dressing-case and jewel-case only, sir."
"So you see," Mr. Sabin continued, "it is probable that she did not
remain at the Waldorf for the night. Base your inquiries on that
supposition."
"Very good, sir."
"From your manners and speech," Mr. Sabin said, raising his head, "I
should take you to be an Englishman."
"Quite correct, sir," the man answered. "I drove a hansom in London
for eight years."
"You will understand me then," Mr. Sabin continued, "when I say that I
have no great confidence in the police of this country. I do not wish to
be blackmailed or bullied. I would ask you, therefore, to make your
inquiries with discretion."
"I'll be careful, sir," the man answered.
Mr. Sabin handed to each of them a roll of notes. The cabdriver
lingered upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin looked up.
"Well?"
"Could I speak a word to you-in private, sir?"
Mr. Sabin motioned Duson to leave the room. The baggage porter had
already departed.
"When I cleaned out my cab at night, sir, I found this. I didn't reckon it
was of any consequence at first, but from the questions you have been
asking it may be useful to you."
Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence. It was the
ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following
words were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in
yellow pencil:-
"Sept. 10th. "To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.-
"You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor at four
o'clock this afternoon."
The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin's fingers. There was no signature,
but he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him.
He looked slowly up towards the cabman.
"I am much obliged to you," he said. "This is of interest to me."
He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had

left upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "You've given me plenty. The letter's of no
value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the peculiar colour
pencil it's written with. Kinder took my fancy, sir."
"The letter is of value," Mr. Sabin said. "It tells me much more than I
hoped to discover. It is our good fortune."
The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin
touched the bell.
"Duson, what time is it?"
"Nearly midnight, sir!"
"I will go to bed!"
"Very good, sir!"
"Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
disturbed until ten o'clock to-morrow morning.

CHAPTER III
At precisely ten o'clock on the following morning Duson brought
chocolate, which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his
master's bedside. Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin sat up in
bed and tore open the envelope. The following words were written
upon a sheet of the Holland House notepaper in the same peculiar
coloured crayon.
"The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one. Profit
by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to danger and
the person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some one shall come
to you shortly who will explain what has happened, and the necessity
for it."
Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile. He sipped his chocolate
and lit a cigarette.
"Our friends, then," he