"Were you not afraid of meeting the Pirate? I heard he was abroad last night," I said.

"Afraid!" he remarked witheringly. "Afraid! All I am afraid of is, that some of your Scotland Yard friends will be beforehand with me in his capture, and that is an adventure which has a particular appeal to me, since he left his mark upon me here." He tapped his shoulder significantly. "I have promised myself to repay this injury with interest."

"Well, I suppose we are as likely to meet him here as anywhere," I ventured to remark.

"I hope so," he answered. "But I am not stopping here for long. I've taken a bed for the night, because I feel confoundedly tired after last night's run. But what brings you down here? Are you motoring?"

"In the first place I wanted a word with you," I replied.

"With me?" The amazement in his voice was obvious.

"Yes," I said; "that is my principal object."

"But how did you discover my address? I left no word with any one."

"I'll tell you later," I said.

"Well, we have plenty of time to talk," he replied. "If there's any little difficulty in which I can be of any assistance, I need hardly assure you I am at your service. But hadn't you better have lunch first?" He lowered the tone of his voice. "Unless you wish the waiters to become acquainted with your affairs, I should think what you have to say could be much better said outside. Neither pier nor esplanade are much frequented at this time of the year."

The suggestion was so natural and reasonable that, after a moment's consideration, I decided to accept it.

All through the meal he chatted as easily as if there was not the slightest possibility of anything happening to interrupt the friendship which had always ostensibly existed between us. The longer we talked, the more puzzled I became. His manners were so natural, so fearless, that it was quite impossible for me to believe that I was sitting at lunch with the Motor Pirate. He was very curious to know how I had learned of his intention to come to Cromer, and I was induced to tell him of my experiences on the previous night. I watched his face keenly while I narrated the stories of the Pirate's victims. He listened quite gravely, not even the ghost of a smile crossing his face when I told him of the ludicrous pictures presented by the old lady and her two servants.

"It is no laughing matter," he observed. "The rascal was bad enough when he confined his attentions to men; but now he has taken to bestowing them upon women, he deserves no mercy, and when I am able to get upon his track, he will get none."

"Then you are really hoping to join in the hunt?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "I'll let you into my secret. At my place at St. Stephens, I had a car which only wanted one minor detail to make it complete. I have known for months, that if I could supply that detail, I should be in possession of a car which would outpace even the Pirate's. For months I've racked my brains over it. A week ago an idea occurred to me. I worked it out. I tried it for the first time last night. It has proved to be a success. The day after to-morrow I shall join in the pursuit of the Motor Pirate, so if your Scotland Yard friend does not make haste, he will be too late."

"What power do you propose to use?" I asked. "Petrol?"

He laughed before replying. "A month ago I would have told nobody; but to-day there is no need of secrecy; my drawings are all ready for deposit at the Patent Office, so there is no chance of any one forestalling me."

"Well, what is it?" I said.

"I don't want you to tell anybody else just yet," he said; and as I nodded my acquiescence, he continued, "My new motor is on an entirely novel principle. It is a turbine engine, worked by the expansion of liquid hydrogen."

"What?" I gasped. The idea was so novel that I could not grasp it. He lifted his hand, checking the questions which started to my lips.

"No. No questions, if you please: because, if you ask any, I shall not answer them. Meanwhile, you have not yet told me how you learned of my presence here?"

I related how, in the course of my inquiries at Chelmsford, I had ascertained that a person so like himself had passed through the town, that I had determined to attempt to overtake him, little thinking the chase would prove so stern.

He chaffingly congratulated me on my tracking powers, and expressed regret that I had not made my appearance earlier, so that we might have arranged a race; and by the time we had finished lunch, I was as completely convinced as I had ever been of anything in my life, that he had no connection whatsoever with the Pirate. Still, I was none the less determined to tackle him upon the subject of the influence which Evie declared he exerted over her, so when the meal was over, we left the hotel together and, seeing from the front that the pier was practically deserted, I led the way to the far end, determined to have a complete explanation.

He was silent during our walk. So was I, for I was deliberating how best to introduce the subject. As it happened, he made the task easy for me, as after finding a comfortable seat and lighting a cigarette, he turned to me with—

"Now, old fellow, what is it you have on your mind? Out with it!"

I told him—told him fully and frankly everything that Evie had mentioned to me concerning him, and I finished by warning him that I was determined to exercise the right she had given me to protect her. He listened to me attentively and, one might have thought, even sympathetically. When I had concluded, he sat silent awhile; then, looking me full in the eyes, he remarked—

"I suppose, Sutgrove, if I tell you that this story of the influence I am supposed to exercise over Miss Maitland is absolute news to me, you will not believe me?"

I was staggered, and my astonishment must have been visible in my face, for he continued—

"You may be surprised, but not half so much as I have been, by what you have told me. Really, the whole story sounds the maddest farrago of nonsense I have ever heard."

I was about to make an angry retort, but he checked me with a gesture—

"I do not mean any offence," he said; "for I can quite understand what your feelings on the subject must be. I, no more than yourself, would tolerate any unwarrantable interference such as you describe. It is just as well that you should have mentioned the matter to me, however, for you will know so much better how to proceed."

"What do you mean?" I gasped.

"Why, what else than that you will not waste any time before obtaining medical advice for Miss Maitland," he replied.

I felt a grey horror creeping over me—a horror that tied my tongue, to think that Evie—my Evie—might prove to be—mad. Again, he must have divined my thoughts, for he said reassuringly—

"You must not take too serious a view of the case. Miss Maitland is of a highly nervous temperament, and, I should imagine, rather prone to hysteria." Then, rising, he clapped me on the shoulder, "Take a cheerful view, Sutgrove. I'll bet you ten to one that her doctor will inform you that marriage will provide a complete cure."

His tone was so hearty, so friendly, that I instinctively grasped his hand, and he returned my grip.

The subject was not resumed; and, as we walked back to the hotel, I was completely convinced that I had been an unutterable cad ever to allow a single doubt concerning him to enter my mind, much less to harbour there.

I left him at the hotel door and went in search of my car to continue my journey to Sutgrove Hall. He was still standing where I parted from him when I swept past, and he waved his hand to me, a smile upon his face.



CHAPTER XX

RELATES HOW THE PIRATE HOLDS UP AN AUGUST PERSONAGE

I REACHED my destination about five, and found, as I hoped, a telegram awaiting my arrival. It read—

"Ever so much better. Do not worry about me. Cannot spare you for long though. Lots of love.—E."

With my mind very much relieved, I was able to devote my attention to my aunt, who was full of questions as to the reason for my unexpected arrival and equally eager for a full account of my doings during the past six months, during which time, she assured me, I had grossly neglected my duties, especially by my failure to keep her adequately posted regarding my engagement.

I was anxious, after reading Evie's wire, to start forthwith for St. Albans; my aunt was equally anxious that I should remain the night at Sutgrove, and while we were arguing the point, a second telegram arrived, which settled the matter. I tore open the envelope and read—

"Meet the 8.49 at Cromer with motor. Do not fail. Most important.—FORREST."

The message had been handed in at Liverpool Street at 4.50, and I wondered what could have happened to necessitate Forrest's presence in Norfolk. There was little use speculating, however, and I settled down to satiate, if it were possible, my aunt's curiosity.

She was duly impressed by such of my adventures as I thought fit to relate, but she was not neglectful of what she considered her duties as hostess and, in spite of the fact that I had eaten a hearty lunch about two, I was able shortly after seven to do adequate justice to the early dinner which she provided for me. I left home soon after eight, and, in consequence of my impatience, had to wait ten minutes on the Cromer platform for the arrival of the train.

As the engine drew into the station, I saw Forrest's head thrust out of the window of one of the carriages, and, before the train had come to a standstill, he had leaped from the door and was at my side. He was for him unusually excited, and, without reply to my greeting, save with a silent hand grip, he said—

"Seen anything of Mannering?"

"Why, yes," I replied directly. "I lunched with him, to-day. He's stopping at the Royal."

"That's a bit of luck," replied the detective. "Come along;" and he pushed on in advance of me through the barrier.

"What has happened?" I asked, as I caught him up in the station yard.

"I hold a warrant for his arrest, and I am desirous of executing it at the earliest possible moment, that's all," he replied.

I could hardly believe my ears. "What in the world for?" I asked.

"What should it be for?" said Forrest, with a touch of sarcasm in the tone of his voice.

"He cannot be the Motor Pirate. It is impossible. He could not have deceived me so completely," I exclaimed.

"I would stake everything I hope for in the future, as well as everything I possess at the present moment, that he is though," returned the detective with conviction. "But we must not waste time. Take me to the hotel."

Without stopping to argue the point, I jumped on my car, Forrest took the seat beside me, and we proceeded to the Royal.

"Leave the car and come with me, I may want your assistance," he said, as we pulled up at the entrance to the hotel.

He sprang out the moment I stopped and ran briskly up the steps. A porter was in the hall, and to him Forrest turned.

"I want to see a Mr. Mannering, who is stopping here, at once, and I do not wish to be announced," he said.

The man walked across to the office and made an inquiry of the clerk, then returning, announced that Mannering had left an hour previously.

"Left?" said Forrest, and his jaw fell. He stepped across to the office himself, only to learn that though Mannering had booked a room for the night, he had after dinner called for his bill, paid it, and left on his motor, without giving any reason for his alteration of plans.

Forrest stalked out of the hotel, his brow heavy with thought. I followed him. He stepped on to the car, and, taking my seat, I asked him tersely—

"Where to?"

"St. Albans," he replied with brevity equal to my own, and without further question we were off.

"Don't mind taking a few risks," he said presently. "The sooner we can get there the better I shall be pleased."

Then, leaning back in his seat, he asked me to tell him how I happened to learn of Mannering's presence in Cromer, and what he had said to convince me that he was in no way connected with the Pirate. So while we were still running at a moderate pace, I gave him a brief history of my adventures of the previous night. Before I had concluded, however, the road ahead seemed clear, and, pulling my mask over my face, I jammed on my highest speed and conversation became impossible.

Forrest pulled his cap down over his eyes and, turning his coat-collar about his ears, settled himself apparently to slumber. Within half an hour the lights of Norwich sparkled in front of us, and it became necessary to slacken speed. Forrest immediately resumed the conversation at the point where we had broken off, and questioned me closely with regard to what Mannering had said to me. Once and again I endeavoured to ascertain what had induced him to take out the warrant; but he would not satisfy my curiosity, declaring that it was of more importance that he should know all that I could tell him first. There seemed little likelihood of my learning anything, for we soon left Norwich behind us, and were running at full speed on the road to Thetford and Newmarket, slackening speed only slightly as we swept through the villages and trusting to the continuous toot-toot of the horn to clear our path. Our progress was uninterrupted until we had reached and left the little town of Attleborough five or six miles behind us, when Forrest was afforded an opportunity, much to his chagrin, of giving me the reasons for his haste.

Incidentally, I may remark, that the occurrence which afforded this opportunity came very near depriving me of the chance of hearing anything from anybody, or him from ever opening his lips again, for while we swept along at our top speed there was a sudden hissing sound, a sudden succession of jars, and the car swerved violently, nearly overturning. I jammed on both my breaks, and by good fortune the car did not overturn. I guessed what had happened, and there was no need for me to get a light to make sure—my sense of touch informed me that the off back tyre was as flat as a pancake.

I hoped that the injury was only slight, but my hopes faded the moment I examined the injury. The tyre had picked up a curved and pointed piece of iron, and had been irreparably damaged. No patching was of any use. There was nothing for it but to replace the tyre with a new one. Fortunately, I was prepared with a spare outer cover as well as inner tubes, and, with a muttered curse, I threw off my coat and set about the job. Then when that was done, and it took me a good hour to complete the task, I discovered, on restarting the car, that a further misfortune had befallen us. Either owing to the jumping of the car when the tyre went, or more likely because of the sudden application, the footbreak had seized, and the transmission was so far injured that I could not get the car along above seven or eight miles an hour. I did my best to put the damage right. I lay on my back in the middle of the road, and used all the language approved by the most fluent members of the Automobile Club for use on such occasions, but entirely without result. Exactly where we were I did not know, and, after I had relieved my feelings, I thought it best to jog along until we came to some town where it would be possible to get skilled assistance.

And it was while we were progressing in this humdrum fashion that Forrest confided to me the reasons for his anxiety.

"In the first place," he said, "your theory as to the stud found by Mannering's servants proved to be correct. It was Winter's. I arrived at St. Albans the first thing this morning, and, after getting your note, went straight away and interviewed the girls. They handed me the trinket. I took it to Winter, and he identified it. He will swear to it anywhere. By the time I had done this, your wire for me had arrived, and your man, having seen me go into Winter's house, brought it on. I took the next train to town and went straight to the Yard, thankful that at last I was able to report something definite. Besides, I wanted to take a warrant without any one being aware of it, and I knew I could manage that better in London than in the country. Well, I called at the Yard, ran across to Bow Street and got my warrant, and returned to the Yard in order to instruct a couple of our men who had been placed at my disposal. While I was there particulars came to hand of a feat which throws all the other doings of the Pirate into the shade. You mentioned, I think, that Mannering, when he told Miss Maitland that he was going away, said that all England would be talking of him."

"She said so," I replied doubtfully; "but she was so excited——"

"She was probably correct in her recollection of what passed," he said. "If further proof were wanted to connect your friend with the Motor Pirate, those words would be sufficient. If what I know leaks out, the Pirate will fill the popular mind more to-morrow than he has done in the past even. Yesterday morning, within six miles of Sandringham, he held up"—he hesitated—"I must mention no names—he held up, let me say, an August Personage——"

"The King?" I cried.

"An August Personage," remarked Forrest, severely, "in broad daylight."

"Let me hear all about it?" I asked eagerly.

"I don't know that I can tell you everything, for so far I only know the particulars wired to the Yard. But the story is complete enough to enable me to do what I have hitherto failed in, and that is, complete the necessary identification of our friend Mannering. And curiously enough, it is owing to the keen powers of observation possessed by the——"

"The August Personage," I reminded him, a trifle maliciously as he hesitated.

Forrest laughed. "Quite right, you score that time," he remarked, before resuming his tale. "Owing to the August Personage's keen powers of observation, I am able to lay my finger on the one point which has puzzled me, namely, the manner by which Mannering has managed to escape suspicion. It is a simple trick. So simple, in fact, that I cannot conceive how I managed to overlook such a possibility for so long. However, you shall hear the facts as they were told to me, and judge for yourself with what transparent means we have been hoodwinked by the rascal. The August Personage, who, as you are probably aware, has been staying at Sandringham for some days past, has been in the habit of taking a ride on one of his cars whenever the roads were in good condition, accompanied only by his chauffeur. This morning he started for the customary run shortly after eleven, with the intention of taking a circular trip through Hunstanton, Burnham, Docking and Bircham, and returning for luncheon. The intention was not fulfilled since, before reaching Hunstanton, the Pirate made his appearance, and approaching as usual from behind, overtook the August motor. The August driver did not at first take any notice of the approaching car, but, merely imagining that the driver had recognized him, and felt some delicacy at passing, he signalled with his hand for the stranger to go ahead. What was his surprise to hear the stranger in a loud voice bid him stop his car. He turned to look at the audacious person who had dared take such unwarrantable liberty, and at once observed with whom he had to deal. The Pirate had in his hand a revolver, which was levelled at the August head. The August face flushed with anger, and turning away, he contemptuously took no notice of the summons. The Pirate thereupon fired two shots, aimed, fortunately, neither at the August Personage nor at the chauffeur, but at the tyres of the back wheels. The aim was good, the tyres ran down at once, and the August Personage found progress on the rims to be so uncomfortable that he thought it desirable to stop. The stranger ranged alongside, and the chauffeur, rising from his seat, was about to throw himself at the throat of the assailant, when his August master laid a hand upon his arm.

"'No, no,' he said, 'I can easily get another car, but I do not know that I could replace my chauffeur.'

"Thereupon the Pirate observed, 'I think, sir, there is so much wisdom in your remark that, in spite of my necessities, I almost feel inclined to forego my usual toll in your case.

"The August Personage, whose coolness had never for a moment deserted him, replied imperturbably—

"'Having robbed me of a morning's enjoyment, it seems to me there is nothing of any particular value left for you to take.'

"'Then, sir,' replied the rascal, 'you will be doubtless glad to purchase my immediate disappearance with the contents of the August pockets?'

"August was not the word he used, but it was one which showed that he was acquainted with the personality of his victim.

"The August Personage shrugged his shoulders, and, searching his pockets, could produce nothing but a cigarette case and a button. To show his sang-froid, I need only remark that when he produced the latter article he laughed heartily and said to the chauffeur—

"'I hope, P——, you have something to add to the contents of my pockets, or I fear this too eager gentleman will destroy our front tyres as well as the back.'

"The chauffeur had some loose gold, a silver matchbox, and a watch, and when these were produced, speaking with the same nonchalance he had retained throughout, the August Personage remarked—

"'I fear you have drawn a blank this time, Mr. Pirate; for, upon my word, that is the best I can do for you.'

"The Pirate took the articles. Then he raised his hat. 'I take,' he said, 'the August word as readily as I take these souvenirs of this memorable meeting,' and with these words, he pulled a lever and was speedily out of sight."

"By Jove!" I muttered. "The fellow's audacity is almost past belief. But you said something of observations made by the August victim?"

"Yes," said Forrest. "The chauffeur was much too agitated to notice anything, but his master was not. He observed four things. First, that the Pirate was a man of about six feet in height."

"Mannering is five feet eleven and a quarter in his socks," I remarked.

"Secondly, that his hair was black. Thirdly, that the nails of the right hand, with which he took his plunder, were bitten to the quick."

"The identification becomes nearly perfect," I interrupted.

"Fourthly, that the car was originally a two-seated car, with a tonneau body, but that the seat had been set back, and the bonnet was enclosed by metal plates shaped into the form of the bow of a canoe, and bolted together in a manner which gave the impression that they might easily be removed. Why," continued the detective, "I did not think of so obvious a solution of the Pirate's mysterious disappearances before I cannot imagine. It is the trick the black flag merchants have practised since the days of Captain Kidd."

I was silent. I could only wonder at my own blindness. Then an excuse occurred to me.

"After all," I remarked, "we only met him in the dark."



CHAPTER XXI

WE PLAN AN AMBUSH

FORREST had just concluded his story when the lights of Thetford gleamed in our eyes. The time was 12.30. The last train was gone. The inhabitants were all in bed, and there we were, stranded with a broken car, and no means of putting it right. Forrest would not despair, however, and after some difficulty we managed, with the assistance of the local police, to knock up a man who was locally reputed to know all about motors. He was a little surly at first, but the inducement I offered him to make an attempt to put the transmission right, was sufficient to dissipate his very natural disgust at being disturbed in his beauty sleep. Fortunately his local reputation had reasonable foundation. He was a very capable mechanician, and the way he set about the job gave me great hopes that the car would run as well as ever when he had done with it. And my expectations were gratified. In less than an hour he had completed the repairs. I paid him and asked him to remain up for ten minutes in case we had another breakdown, telling him that after that period had elapsed, he would be at liberty to return to his bed. Whether he waited the ten minutes or not I do not know, for by that time we were halfway to Newmarket, flying through the darkness at a pace which two months previously I would not have dared venture upon in broad daylight. And right onward to St. Albans, we kept it up, reaching the ancient town just as the birds began to twitter in the hedges at the first grey light of early dawn. At St. Albans we stopped at the police-station. A man was waiting at the door.

"Any news?" asked Forrest.

The man shook his head.

"You know where to bring it?" asked my companion.

The man nodded.

"Let us get on home," said Forrest to me.

As I wheeled my vehicle into my yard I thought I should drop. The strain of that rush through the night, expecting every moment that something would give way, had been tremendous, and the moment the tension was relaxed I shook like an aspen leaf. When I tried to get in at my own door I found I could not fit the latch-key, and was obliged to hand it to the detective. He saw what was the matter with me, and the moment we were inside, he led the way to my study, thrust me down into a chair and mixed me a whisky-and-soda. I was never more grateful for a drink in my life. It pulled me together, and in less time than I had conceived possible, I felt as if I could have managed another seventy-five miles without a halt.

The moment he saw my nerves were steady again, Forrest proposed that we should get something to eat. I declared that I did not want anything.

"When you haven't time for sleep, the next best thing is to feed well if you want to keep fit," he remarked. "Besides, I am as hungry as a hunter has a right to be."

"That settles it," I laughed. "We shall have to forage for ourselves. The servants are all asleep."

We found our way to the larder and made a hearty meal on a cold pie we found there; and directly we had finished, we set out forthwith in the direction of Mannering's home. As soon as we arrived opposite the house, Forrest paused and gave a low whistle. It was answered immediately by a man dressed as a labourer, who made his appearance from behind the hedge opposite the house.

"Any one been here to-night, Laver?" asked Forrest.

"No one," the man answered. "The servants turned in about ten after locking up. No signs of any one about the place since."

"That's all right," grunted Forrest. "We shall be ready for him when he does come. Have you got the tools?"

The man was proceeding to scramble through the hedge when Forrest checked him.

"Better stay where you are," he advised. "Keep out of sight, and if I whistle, come at once."

"All right, sir," replied the man, as he handed through a gap in the hedge a small chamois leather bag.

I had no idea as to what steps Forrest proposed to adopt in order to effect the arrest, so I asked him, and he explained briefly his plan of campaign.

"One can see," he remarked, "that Mannering feels so confident of the completeness of his disguise that he will have no hesitation about returning. I am reckoning, too, upon there being an element of truth in the story he has told you about the construction of his motor, in which case his own workshop would be the only place where he would be able to refill his tank. We shall be able to decide that point in a very few minutes. If we do find any plant for the production of liquid gases, we can count upon catching our man within a very few hours."

"Unless he smells a rat, and makes for some convenient port and gets out of the country," I remarked.

"That eventuality is provided against," remarked the detective. "His description is in the hands of the police at every port in the kingdom, and even if he changes the colour of his hair, I don't think he will manage to get away. What I propose is, that we shall remain concealed in his coach-house and await his return."

"How are we going to get in?" I inquired.

Forrest took a bunch of skeleton keys from the bag Laver had handed to him and dangled them before his eyes.

"There's not a burglar in the kingdom is better provided," he remarked, and set to work upon the lock forthwith.

The lock was an ordinary one, and his efforts were speedily successful. The door swung open, and we entered eagerly a bare, stone-paved coach-house. Opposite the door by which we had entered from the road was a similar door, which gave upon the inner yard. On the left, a large sliding door had been fixed in place of the wall which had divided the coach-house from the stables. Relocking the door by which we had entered, Forrest led the way to the door on the left. It was unfastened, and as it swung back a cry of amazement sprang to my lips.

"Hush—sh—sh!" said the detective warningly.

But I could not have repressed the cry, for there before me stood a replica of the car I had seen on two occasions. There was only one point of difference at first apparent. The pirate car had been black. This one was built of aluminium and gleamed silvery white. But although the lines were very similar, I soon came to the conclusion that the car we saw before us was not the one which the Pirate had used when engaged upon his nefarious work. One glance at the tyres convinced me that they had never been upon the road, and I fancied that the wheels were smaller and the lines of the body finer altogether. I pointed these things out to Forrest, who, while agreeing that this particular car could not have been the one which had been responsible for holding up the "August Personage" on the previous day, would not commit himself further.

We did not spend much time upon a close examination of the car, for the other contents of the building claimed our attention. We found ourselves in a long workshop. There were no windows in the walls, but the place was amply illuminated by a skylight which ran along nearly the whole length of the northern slope of the roof. On the right of the large door by which we had entered the inner shop was a small room, which had probably once served as a harness-room, for through this another door gave on to the yard, though this exit was evidently never used, for the door was fixed by screws. The contents were a couple of broken chairs, and some coats and rugs hung upon hooks upon the walls, together with a miscellaneous assortment of odds and ends upon a shelf. I gave merely a cursory glance at the contents of this apartment, for my attention had been attracted by a plant of machinery, which occupied the far end of the large room. As it happened, I had once had an opportunity of inspecting the laboratory of the Royal Institution, and I recognized at once that Mannering had set up an installation for the preparation of some one or other of the liquid gases. Without this experience, I doubt whether it would have been possible for me to guess even the purpose for which the plant had been devised. As it was, I had no hesitation in discovering the receiver into which the liquid gas was distilled; and when I let a little of the liquid with which it was filled run into a glass which I found handy, and saw the air fall in a shower of tiny snow-flakes as the stuff evaporated, I knew that Mannering had told me the exact truth when he had informed me that liquid hydrogen supplied the power for his new car.

Once satisfied on this point, I examined the other contents of the place. I do not think there is any need to particularize all that we discovered, even if my memory served me. Practically the workshop contained a sufficient engineering equipment to build such a car as stood in the centre, though I judged that there was no convenience for the forging of the parts of the motor.

Still, as I pointed out to Forrest, there was nothing in all these discoveries to negative the truth of the story Mannering had told me about his being engaged in building a car which should serve to outpace the Pirate car, but he would not listen to any theorising on the subject.

"He can tell that story to the jury," he said, as he significantly drew a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and clinked them together. Then he proceeded to investigate the contents of the harness-room, while I went back to the new car and began a careful examination of the engines. The whole mechanism was, however, so novel to me, that I could only surmise as to the method of its working. I did notice, however, that the driving and steering gear varied very little from that of my own car, so far as it was controlled by the levers and wheel, while the breaks seemed to be particularly powerful. There was only seating accommodation for two, and judging from the size of the tank which was fitted behind the seat, I judged that Mannering contemplated runs over distances which would make large demands upon his supply of liquid gas.

At the moment I made this discovery, I heard Forrest call to me in an excited whisper, and going across to him, I found him contemplating with keen interest a dirty piece of rope.

"Look here, Sutgrove," he said; "this is the piece of cord with which he trussed me up on the occasion when he dropped me into the pond. Compare it with this"—he kicked a coil which lay at his feet—"and tell me if they are not identical."

I examined them both, and came to the conclusion that Forrest was correct in his supposition. Next, mounting one of the chairs, he proceeded to rummage amongst the rubbish piled on the shelf. A moment later he observed triumphantly, albeit in subdued tones, "Another piece of evidence," and descending from his perch, he handed me a box of cartridges. A glance at the label had apparently been enough, nevertheless, to make sure, he searched again in his pocket, and produced the bullet which had proved fatal to the poor victim at Towcester. He compared it with one of the cartridges, and gave a grunt of content. "I fancy we shall soon obtain sufficient evidence to hang him," he murmured. Then a shadow crossed his face. "What an infernal dunderhead I have been not to suspect him before," he said, and turning impatiently away, he replaced the box of cartridges on the shelf, before renewing his systematic examination of the rest of the contents of the room. The search revealed nothing further, and at length he desisted.

All the while we were keenly on the alert to detect any sound which should tell us of the approach of Mannering's car. But the minutes passed and grew into hours without a sign. It must have been about five in the morning when we had entered the coach-house, and when I saw by my watch that it was nearly ten, I began to think that in some way or another Mannering had got warning of the danger that threatened him. I suggested to Forrest that we might as well leave our hiding-place, but he would not hear of it.

"I don't leave this building except in his company, unless I hear that he has been captured elsewhere," he declared obstinately. "At the same time, don't let me detain you."

I wanted badly to see Evie, whom I thought might be getting anxious concerning me; but I hardly liked the idea of leaving Forrest to tackle Mannering alone if he should return. However, my first desire triumphed, so I persuaded Forrest to let me out of the door, promising to return within as short a time as I could manage.

I hurried first to the Colonel's house, and had a brief interview with the dear girl, telling her what had happened and what was likely to happen in the near future. Next, I went to my own place, and had a basket packed with a plentiful luncheon, not forgetting to provide a couple of bottles of champagne, and thus provided I returned to the coach-house after an absence of less than an hour.

When in response to my signal Forrest admitted me, his eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he saw my burden.

"It is truly thoughtful of you," he remarked, as I lifted the lid of the basket and revealed the contents. "I only hope our friend will not spoil our picnic by arriving in the middle of it."

The better to avoid any such contretemps, we set about our meal immediately with very good appetites. When we had finished, I do not know how Forrest felt, but I was confoundedly drowsy. I tried all sorts of tricks to keep my eyes open, but the quiet of the place, the coolness, and the subdued light of the saddle-room, where Forrest thought it best for us to remain, were too much for my powers of resistance and I dropped off to sleep.

I must have slumbered for a couple of hours, if not three, when I was suddenly awakened by a hand placed on my mouth, while a voice whispered in my ear—

"Wake up, man—wake up! There's no time to lose."

I came to myself with a start. Forrest had hold of me, and was shaking me violently. At the same moment I became aware of the throb of an approaching motor.

Recognizing the sound, I turned to the detective.

"That's Mannering," I whispered.

"Yes," replied my companion. "I could swear to the sound anywhere."



CHAPTER XXII

GONE AWAY

"DON'T stir an inch until I give the signal," whispered Forrest in my ear, as soon as he saw I was fully awake. He was perfectly calm, and he closed the door in order to conceal us from the sight of any one entering the workshop.

The car pulled up outside. We heard the grate of the key in the lock, and the door creak on its hinges, as it swung open. There was a second grating noise, and I judged that the door of the inner yard had been opened by whoever had entered. There followed a few more pants from the motor, as it passed through the coach-house into the yard, and then everything was silent. The outer door shutting with a snap apprized us that the crucial moment was at hand, and my heart began to thump as I heard footsteps approaching. Forrest pointed to a vacant hook over my head, and I recognized why he had selected the harness-room for our hiding-place. The footsteps came slowly nearer, then stopped, and a long low laugh came from the lips of the unseen man. I thought we must have been discovered in our hiding-place and glanced at Forrest for instructions. He never moved a muscle. He stood poised like a greyhound about to be slipped from the leash.

The footsteps approached again. The door knob rattled as a hand was laid upon it. The door flew open. Forrest darted forward.

I caught one glimpse of Mannering's face, for it was indeed he, and I saw it become suddenly livid. It was not the pallor of fear. His eyes flashed. He had doffed his coat and was holding it in one hand, and quick as was Forrest's spring, he was equally swift to meet it. His other hand passed swift as lightning from the door handle, and catching the edge of the coat, spread the garment in front of him. Forrest, missing his grip, plunged heavily into the wide folds of the garment. Mannering's arms closed as a vice. The door swinging back had momentarily blocked my passage. I thrust it open, and had taken one step forward to Forrest's assistance, when Mannering with a herculean effort, swung the detective from his feet, and hurled him full at me. It was a magnificent effort, and I went down with a crash amongst the remains of the lunch with Forrest on the top of me. The whole incident had not lasted twenty seconds, and before either of us could regain our feet, the door was slammed and locked.

Forrest was the first to regain his feet, and he rushed at the door furiously. We were trapped. The door was a strong one of oak, and I remembered that it fastened by a couple of bolts on the other side. The detective worried the door like a bear at the bars of his cage, but he could not move it. He gnashed his teeth, and he was white with rage. From the other side we could hear the sound of heavy objects being moved, and we guessed that our enemy was piling the most massive articles his workshop contained against the door to make it more secure.

"D——n you, Sutgrove!" shouted the detective. "Don't stop to think, or we shall lose our man after all. Come, both together."

I saw his intention, and I could understand and forgive his curse in the excitement of the moment. Together we hurled ourselves against the door. It did not move an inch, and a long low chuckle greeted the attempt from the other side. We tried madly again and again, but the barrier was immovable.

Then I looked round for some tool which would enable me to break down the door itself. There were only the chairs available, and so I tore off the leg of one of them, and, bidding Forrest stand back, I swung the piece of wood round my head, and struck as hard as I could against one of the lower panels of the door. The improvised club flew into half a dozen fragments, but the panel had cracked. Forrest had provided himself meanwhile with a similar club, and directed his blows so effectively that the panel was driven out. I threw myself at the gap, trusting to be able to force my way through.

What I saw filled me with rage. The wheels of the new car were moving, and right before my eyes the car disappeared into the outer coach-house. I made an unavailing attempt to struggle through the aperture, but the attempt was hopeless. It was too narrow to admit even my shoulders. Withdrawing, I told Forrest what I had seen.

"I had entirely forgotten Laver," he remarked, and putting his whistle to his mouth, he blew it shrill and clear.

Then together we renewed our attack upon the door. The sound of a shout from the outside followed by a pistol shot made us work like madmen, and within a minute, another panel gave, and we managed to get at the bolts and draw them. The articles piled against the door toppled in all directions, as we finally forced our way out.

We were too late. The outer door was wide open, and just on the threshold, was Forrest's unfortunate subordinate lying on the ground, with blood trickling down his arm. He struggled into a sitting position as we came out, and pointed up the road in the direction of St. Albans.

"Gone away, sir," he said.

"Hurt?" asked Forrest, pausing as he did so.

"Not much; smashed shoulder, I fancy," remarked the sufferer philosophically.

"I'll send assistance," said my companion as he rushed after me into the road, where I stood horror stricken at what met my gaze.

Fifty yards distant, opposite the entrance gate of Colonel Maitland's house, the new car was standing still. It was empty. The gate was open, and even as I watched, I saw Mannering come out of the gate, bearing in his arms the helpless figure of a girl. There was no need to guess who the victim might be. Even before I saw him appear, I knew intuitively why he had stopped. Had he not told Evie that on the third day he would return, bidding her be ready for him?

I rushed forward towards the car, but before I had covered half the distance which separated me from it, he was aboard with his burden and I knew pursuit on foot to be hopeless.

Yet, even as I saw him move away, there flashed across my brain one means by which I might possibly get on terms with my enemy. There was just one chance, and one chance only, of rescuing my darling from the Pirate, and that chance depended entirely upon the question as to whether the car upon which Mannering had returned was fitted with the same sort of motor as that on which he had departed.

With the haste of a madman I returned to the coach-house I had just quitted. My hopes fell to zero. There was an unmistakable scent of petrol about the car. They rose again, however, upon a closer examination, for I saw at once that the motor was a turbine, though petrol was utilized in some way as a means of securing the necessary heat to secure the expansion of the gas for the starting of the engine, though I could see that once started, the expanded hydrogen was, as in the new car, ingeniously utilized to produce the necessary heat. I was glad then that I had spent as much time as I had upon examining the car upon which the Pirate had escaped, for I was enabled to see that, if only a supply of the liquid hydrogen were obtainable, I should be able to put my wild plan into execution. As it was, the tank was nearly empty, so putting my shoulder to the car, I shoved it into the workshop where, unless Mannering had let it run to waste, I knew I should find a supply of the hydrogen. Thank Heaven, Mannering had forgot to empty the receiver, and filling the tank and tightly screwing down the nuts of the covering, I wheeled the car into the open road. There I saw Forrest leaning against the wall of the coach-house, a figure of inexpressible dejection.

"Come and lend a hand!" I shouted.

The light that flashed into his face, as he realized what I would be at, was extraordinary. He sprang forward at once to my assistance. Now, in my attempts to get at the machinery of the car, I had discovered the plates with which Mannering had been wont to disguise its shape, and it occurred to me that they performed the further purpose of diminishing the wind resistance, so that if I wanted to get the full speed out of the car it would be necessary to fix them in their places. I immediately set to work to join up the various sections, leaving Forrest to bolt them together. We worked like niggers at the job, and it was nearly completed when a curious sound came down the breeze. I looked up, and to my surprise I saw the Pirate once more approaching.

"Look!" I shouted to Forrest in my excitement, though there was no need to warn him.

Nearer the Pirate came; still nearer. Every moment I expected to see him pull up and surrender. But it was a mad hope. He had not the slightest intention of so obliging us. As he approached, he suddenly increased his pace and flashed past us at full sixty miles an hour.

Forrest fingered a revolver, but he dared not shoot for fear the bullet should find the slender form of Evie, who we saw was huddled close to his side. Mannering laughed as he passed us and waved his hand in derision.

"There are a couple of masks in the coach-house," I said quietly to the detective.

He darted into the doorway and returned a moment later with them, thrusting at the same time a bottle into his pocket. It took us no time to climb into the car and as, during his momentary absence, I had succeeded in starting the engine, we were in a position to move at once.

For a hundred yards we travelled at the speed at which we were accustomed to see Mannering while using the car in the sight of men and in the light of day. Then with a word of warning to my companion, I pulled at the change-speed lever. The effect was marvellous. The car seemed to leap forward and the hedges suddenly transformed themselves into long green streaks.

A cloud of dust on the road ahead gave the direction Mannering had taken, so I jammed down the lever to its limit and commenced the pursuit. At any other time the idea of chasing the Pirate on one of his own cars would have delighted me beyond measure, but my thoughts were too much occupied as to the fate which might await Evie if we failed to overtake her abductor to allow room for anything else.

Exactly what speed we made I cannot tell, it must have been nearer eighty than sixty miles an hour, but the smoothness of the motion was wonderful, and I felt not the slightest tremor.

Mannering had disappeared on the Watford road, and in a few minutes we swept through the north end of the town and, directed by a boy at the cross roads, made for Rickmansworth. Forrest took charge of the horn, and kept it braying continuously. We slackened speed through Rickmansworth, for the streets were full of vehicles, and there we learned that the white car was five minutes ahead. Once clear of the streets I let the car go again, and we tore away towards Uxbridge. On reaching the main Oxford road once more a dust cloud in the distance served as a guide, and informed us that Mannering had crossed the highway, and gone away in the direction of Slough. The going was rough for a while, but I did not slacken pace, though the road was narrow, and to have met a cart would have meant certain destruction. The road broadened after a time, and I fancied we were gaining, for the dust cloud seemed nearer. We skirted Slough to the east, the guiding cloud bearing towards Dachet. Darting through that little riverside town at a pace which set the police whistles blowing behind us, we came to the bridge across the Thames, and here we were informed that our quarry was barely a minute ahead, and running in the direction of Egham. A mile further on, at a straight piece of road, we first sighted the fugitives, and a cry of triumph escaped my lips. It was a little premature, however. Once again the silver car turned into a bye-road so winding that I was compelled, much against my will, to slacken speed. Then once more we came out upon a main road, to find our quarry not more than a hundred yards away as we swept out into the broad highway.

And here, looking back, Mannering for the first time learned that we were on his track. At that moment, too, commenced a race which, I venture to think, will not soon be equalled in the history of the motor world. At all events, I trust it will never be my lot to take part in any similar trial of speed, at least, with such issues depending upon the result. Upon emerging from the bye-road we were a mile from Egham, and knowing the road, I asked Forrest to glance at his watch. The way was clear before us, and three minutes and a quarter later, we flashed through the railway arch at Sunningdale railway-station, four miles from the point where the timing commenced. But fast as we had travelled, Mannering travelled faster. When we reached Bagshot we learned he was half a minute ahead.

We flew through the lovely pine country on the wings of the wind, through Hook, and so into Basingstoke. By this time we were covered from head to foot with white dust, looking more like working masons than anything else; but wherever we went, I knew Forrest had the power to make the way easy. If he had been anybody else but a detective from Scotland Yard, we should never have got through Basingstoke, for there the police, warned in some manner of our approach, had drawn a huge waggon across the road, thus completely barring our progress. It was soon drawn aside when Forrest produced his badge, and once more we flew westwards. So through Whitchurch and Andover.

How we succeeded in escaping accidents I cannot explain. Providence seemed to watch over both pursuers and pursued. We were always on the verge of a collision with somebody or something. Cottages, carts, pedestrians, cyclists, seemed to be flying by in a never-ending procession. Yet we touched nothing.

Once past Andover the road became clearer, for instead of turning towards Salisbury, as I expected, the Pirate chose the road through Amesbury and Stonehenge. We swept over Salisbury Plain at a magnificent pace, but we did not catch sight of the fugitives, though now and again a glimpse of a distant dust cloud raised my hopes momentarily. At Wincanton we learned we were three minutes behind, and setting my teeth, I determined I would not slacken speed again until we overtook the fugitives or reached Exeter. The road was admirable hereabouts, and we ran so steadily that, but for the hedges flying past, we might have been sitting in armchairs. After Ilminster the road became steeper, though it was yet too early in the year to be very rough.

But how is it possible to describe a journey at the pace we were making? Our progress became dream-like to me. It was almost monotonous. One could observe so little, just an incident here and there to mark the stages in the journey. Thus I remember Honiton by the frightened scream of a cur which was swept off its feet by the rush of the air as we passed close at his tail. Then nothing of note until we reached Exeter.

At the cathedral city we were told the white car was only a minute in advance. I began to wonder where the chase was going to end, for Mannering was still going westward without pause. Still we followed. Out on to the Launceston road; onward, ever onward until the bare hills of Dartmoor frowned upon us, and we had to slacken slightly for the long upward grind. Fortunately the hills were free from mist, and on reaching the summit of Whiddon Down we caught once more a glimpse of the white car before it disappeared in the distance. I was getting reckless, and I took the descent at a pace which blanched even Forrest's cheek. Then through a streak of white houses, which I fancied must be Okehampton. There was no need to inquire the way. At the pace both cars were travelling there was only one road which would serve either Mannering or myself. In fifteen minutes Launceston came into view. Then up again until from the top of Bodmin moor we caught fleeting glimpses of the sea on either side of us. On still without pause, through Redruth and Camborne and Hayle. Finally a sight of them at last, as we opened up St. Michael's Bay as we came to Marazion. And here I thought the chase had come to an end. I was mistaken.



CHAPTER XXIII

SAVED

MY brain reeled as we rushed along the road into Penzance. My forehead seemed to be encircled with a band of steel. My mouth was so parched that my tongue rattled against my palate as I tried to speak to Forrest. My fingers were so cramped with the grip on the steering wheel, a grip which had never once been relaxed during our five hours' run, that I could not relinquish my hold. The road became dark, and involuntarily I cut off the supply of the gas to the motor and brought the car to a standstill.

"Go on, man! Go on!" shouted Forrest in my ear.

I could only gasp for answer. I felt suddenly sick.

Then Forrest gave proof of his ready common sense. He thrust his hand into his pocket and produced the bottle of champagne which had been left over from our lunch, and which he had thoughtfully brought with him in view of some such eventuality as this. Tearing off the wire he cut the string. The cork flew out and the liquor creamed from the neck of the bottle. Pushing up my mask with one hand he held the bottle to my lips with the other.

I spluttered. I choked. But I drank and I drank again. Never surely was champagne more grateful or more useful. My strength returned to me instantaneously. My brain cleared. My eyes saw. My hope returned. I drew a deep sigh of relief. Forrest handed me the bottle again.

"After you," I said.

He took a drink and then remarked authoritatively, "Finish the bottle."

I obeyed and, draining it, tossed it into the hedge and once more set the car in motion. If our progress had been speedy before, when we were once through Penzance, it became absolutely reckless.

My brain was dancing from the effect of the champagne, and a wild exhilaration throbbed in every artery. The pace was tremendous, and we had not left Penzance a couple of miles behind us before the fugitives came once more into view. Now for the first time I could see that we were holding our own in the race. It may have been that some bearing had become heated in the car Mannering was driving, for undoubtedly his new car was more speedy than the old, but it was clear that he could no longer leave us as he had been able to do in the earlier part of the chase. If only I could increase ever so slightly the speed of my car, I felt confident of overtaking him. I motioned to Forrest to bend towards me, and when his ear was level with my mouth, I asked him to throw everything which could be got rid of overboard, in order to lighten the car. He took my meaning at once, and away went the cushions and rugs. The difference was slight, but still there was a perceptible difference. At the pace we were now travelling the car rocked from side to side of the road, and Forrest had to brace himself stiffly against the foot-board to prevent himself being thrown out. But we were gaining foot by foot on the fugitives. I felt a thrill of delight when, on reaching the brow of a hill, I saw the white car only two hundred yards ahead, and reckoned that in a couple of minutes we should have overtaken them.

But one thing I had overlooked. I became conscious that we should soon be at the end of our journey, for suddenly I saw the sea on the horizon. I knew now where we were, knew that the end was in sight. For Mannering there could be no return, and I shouted aloud with exultation when I realized it. We drew closer to him, so close that I fancied I could see his eyes glittering through the mica plate of his mask as he turned to look at us.

A sudden horror gripped me by the throat. He surely must know as well as myself that he was near the spot where all roads ended; that we were barely a mile or two from Land's End. What if he intended to end his life and his journey together? And what if, not content with destroying himself, he were to carry with him to destruction the girl who rode beside him on his car?

We reached within twenty yards of him, and then as if in answer to my thought, I heard him emit a screech of laughter as his car suddenly shot away from us, and in half a minute placed him at least a quarter of a mile ahead. The bitterness of that moment, as my hope died within me, I can never forget. I only continued the pursuit mechanically.

We thundered through Sennen without pause and so onward until we opened up the hotel and the stretch of green on the brow of the cliff. Then I could have shrieked with delight. The white car was standing still and Mannering had left his seat and was standing by the side. Ten seconds would have brought us to him. Five passed. He leaped again to his seat, and as he did so, the white robed figure sprang from the car to the turf. The Pirate gave a cry of baffled rage. But he had no time to waste in recovering his escaping victim, for we were within fifty yards of him. His car leaped forward and, leaving the road, tossed like a boat at sea over the uneven boulder-strewn turf. We were within five yards of him, and it was as much as we could manage to do to keep our seats.

Just in time I realized the danger into which we were being unwittingly drawn, and reversing the gear, I put on both breaks. I was in time, but only just in time, for we were on a treacherous grassy slope and in spite of the breaks our car continued to glide forward under the impulse of the velocity it had attained.

"Jump for your life!" shouted Forrest.

I had wit enough to obey without hesitation.

As I leaped, my eyes were fixed upon Mannering who at that moment had reached the very edge of the cliff. I saw him disappear, and then I rolled over on the turf. I was unhurt, and gathering myself together, I regained my feet just as the car which had carried us so well followed the maker over the cliff. A dozen paces took me to the spot. I shuddered as I glanced downwards and saw the fate I had escaped. Two or three hundred feet below the tide was boiling over the jagged rocks. I fancied I could discern a few fragments of the white car and that was all.

Not ten seconds before I had seen Mannering wave his hand at us mockingly as he rode to his death, and I guessed that his intention had been to lure us on to a common destruction. Once again he had disappeared, but now I knew it was for all time.

A strange calm came upon me. Straight in front of us the Longships lighthouse made a pillar of black marble against the huge red disc of the setting sun. In the far distance the Cassiterides floated cloud-like on the horizon. I gulped down a sob of thankfulness, for the memory came upon me that the one whom I loved had been saved by the merest chance from sharing the fate of the madman who had so unhesitatingly rushed upon his doom.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Forrest.

"Our work is done," he said, and with an impatient sigh, he took from his pocket the useless handcuffs and hurled them after the cars. "One thing we have to be thankful for," he continued, "thank God, Miss Maitland is safe."

For reply, I could only grasp his hands and wring them silently. As I did so, I became conscious that a number of excited people had gathered about us.

"Where—where is she?" I gasped.

Some one pointed to the hotel a hundred yards or so distant, and Forrest and I hurried towards it. I was a prey to the most horrible anxiety. I dreaded to contemplate what the result upon the mind of my darling might be. I had nearly reached the hotel door, when I saw a slight figure step across the threshold and shade her eyes with her hand. With a cry of delight I sprang forward.

The next moment Evie was in my arms.

* * * * *

That is the story of the Motor Pirate. There remain but a few things to say. And first of them, let me explain how it happened that Evie managed to fall into the Pirate's clutches.

I told her later that it was owing to feminine curiosity. She, on the other hand, declares it was entirely owing to her anxiety on my account. Whichever was the reason, the moment she had heard Mannering's car approach, she had gone to the garden-gate, whence she was able to command a view of the coach-house door. She had seen the man Laver rush forward at the sound of the whistle. Then the pistol shot rang out, and the next moment Mannering had appeared on the new car. He had seen her, and she had attempted to fly to the house, but he had overtaken her and carried her off. Once on the car he had proceeded a short distance on the St. Alban's road, and then stopped to speak to her, for the first and only time on that day.

"I am going to take you for a ride with me, Miss Maitland," he had observed. "I merely wish to warn you before we start, that at the pace we shall travel, you will find any attempt to escape exceedingly dangerous."

It was then from his manner and appearance she had realized that she was in the power of a madman.

As regards the ride, she could tell me very little. The pace was so great that, being unprovided with a mask, she was obliged to crouch down on the seat and cover her face with a rug as a protection against the dust. It seemed an interminable time, she said, and the moment the car stopped she made an attempt to regain her liberty, without knowing how near she was to destruction at the time she made it.

Fortunately the strain had been much less than I expected, so far as Evie was concerned, and much more than I anticipated, was its effect upon myself. It was a long time before I completely recovered from the effects of those three adventurous days. And the worst of it was, that everything combined to prevent me obtaining the absolute quiet which I needed. After spending a night at the hotel I, of course, hastened to take train to London in order to restore Evie to her father. But when I arrived at my place at St. Albans, I found a veritable army of pressmen encamped on my doorstep. They would not give me a moment's peace. I was compelled to remain in bed, and upon sending a message over to Evie to inform her of my predicament, she informed me that she was similarly besieged.

We exchanged a dozen notes. I rose when it was dark, and slipped out of my back door. I could only see one method of securing quiet. Even a hardened pressman has a dislike to intrude upon the privacy of a newly married couple, so the next morning Evie and Colonel Maitland joined me in town, and we were married by special license and, without returning to St. Albans, we started for my home in Norfolk.

So much for myself.

Forrest was for a long time inconsolable at the final escape of the Pirate from the hands of justice. So was his subordinate, Laver, whose sentiments on the subject are quite too lurid for publication.

As for Mannering, no trace of his body was ever found, though I have since heard that certain portions of the cars have been fished up from the pools amongst the rocks at the base of the cliffs at low tide. At present, however, there has not been sufficient of the machinery recovered to enable any one to construct a similar motor. He had apparently made no drawings, or else had destroyed them when they had served his turn, so it would seem as if the secret of the singularly speedy motor he invented is destined to be lost to the world. Still, it may be that sufficient will be recovered to give some skilled mechanician sufficient guidance to enable him to reproduce the lost pirate car. If not, well, I don't suppose it matters. Some one else will be sure to invent something similar. In fact, from the hints Mannering gave me, and owing to the opportunity I had of examining the car in his workshop, I think it is not unlikely that I shall shortly be applying for letters patent myself.



CHAPTER XXIV

REVELATIONS

THERE remains only one thing more. I feel that the story would be incomplete if I kept to myself certain particulars concerning Mannering, which have come to my knowledge since the day when he made his sensational flight into eternity from the brow of the cliff at Land's End. At the time, both my wife and myself wished never to hear again the name of the man whose actions had provided us with such terrible and nerve-shattering experiences, but afterwards, when we came to think over the matter, it occurred to both of us that in fact we knew very little about the man who had nearly wrecked our lives. To dwell upon that thought naturally awakened our curiosity concerning his past life, and, needless to say, when the opportunity occurred for gratifying our curiosity, we did not for a moment hesitate about accepting it. It is true that we had gathered from his conversation that he had travelled widely, but in what capacity, or with what object, we knew as little as we knew of his birthplace or parentage. We found, too, a difficulty in understanding the motives which had prompted Mannering's actions, and, though we often discussed the question, we could never of ourselves have arrived at a satisfactory solution of the problem.

On this latter point I must mention the conclusion arrived at by The Speaker. This sober-minded and extremely British review declared that his animating motive was "the strong rock of equity, or abstract justice," inasmuch as, by principally directing his attention to motorists, he was avenging The Speaker's quarrel with a class which this journal held in particular abhorrence. Naturally, both Evie and myself smiled at the thought that the Motor Pirate was a conservative gentleman, anxious only to restore to the highways of England something of their pristine calm. For myself, I inclined to the belief that he was a remarkable specimen of the megalomaniac, whose exploits were prompted much more by the desire for notoriety than by any altruistic motive, or even by any sordid consideration regarding the plunder which he secured. Certainly had he been a mere criminal, impelled by the desire for the easy acquisition of wealth, he could have pursued his career for a much longer period than he actually did. As for my wife, with a woman's natural tendency to read a romance into any and every development of human activity, she held fast to the opinion that the Pirate's extraordinary career was the outcome of an overmastering passion for herself. The probability is, that in his brain all these motives operated at different times. The natural love of plunder, inherent in the criminal mind, is as often as not accompanied by a morbid delight in awakening the wonder of the public by the performance of startling deeds and, in the same temperament, it is not unusual to discover the romantic nature developed to a considerable degree. But, from the data at our command, I fancy it would have been impossible even for the experienced psychologist to decide which, so to speak, was the master impulse.

Perhaps, however, the few facts concerning him, which came into our possession afterwards, tend to clear up these points to some degree. Certainly they left me with a clearer light upon his individuality.

To these facts I am indebted to Inspector Forrest, who, some six months after our famous ride together in pursuit of the pirate, managed to find time to pay a flying visit to our Norfolk home, where we had continued to dwell in peaceful seclusion.

It was at dinner, on the night of his arrival, that Forrest first hinted that he had picked up some details of Mannering's life-history, and of course nothing would content Evie but a promise that we should hear what he had discovered. So, directly the meal was finished, we adjourned for our coffee and cigars to my sanctum, where, in front of a comfortable fire, Forrest made no difficulty about satisfying our curiosity.

"You see," he began, when his cigar was once well alight, "I was every bit as curious as Mrs. Sutgrove."

"Or myself," I interrupted.

"Or Mr. Sutgrove," said the detective, smiling, "for there is precious little difference between the sexes so far as curiosity is concerned, in spite of the generally accepted opinion on the matter. But being curious, I naturally made the most minute search when I searched his place at St. Alban's. I didn't find much there, it is true, but I did secure a clue which ultimately led me to some lodgings which he had occupied some three or four years previously, and there, by the merest good luck, I discovered that when he had departed he had left behind him a worn-out travelling-bag, and in that bag was a bundle of papers which supplied me with sufficient information to reconstruct his history to some extent, though I should not like to swear to the absolute accuracy of every detail of his biography as I see it."

"Was there nothing at all found at St. Alban's then?" asked Evie.

"I fancy you must have seen in the papers a pretty full account of all that the police discovered there?" said the detective.

"Yes," replied Evie. "We read a lot of stories, but they varied to such an extent that we really did not know what to believe."

Forrest smiled. "Now I come to think of it, the reporters did give their imaginations free reins, but you can take it from me that, with the exception of the plunder he amassed after his return from that Continental trip, and the apparatus for the production of the liquid hydrogen, there was very little in his house of interest to me or you. There was his bank-book, and some correspondence with a learned professor at the Royal Institution. I followed up both clues. At the R. I. I discovered nothing. Mannering had merely posed as a wealthy amateur in chemistry, and of course he met with every assistance when he had asked for help in following up his researches into the behaviour of liquid gases. At his bank also, very little was known about him. When he had come to St. Alban's he had opened an account by a payment into it of six or seven thousand pounds in Bank of England notes. He had drawn steadily upon the account until it was nearly exhausted, and, in point of fact, there was only a few pounds to his credit from the time when he commenced his career on the road, until a week or two after his return from Amsterdam, when he paid in two thousand pounds in gold, and a fortnight later swelled his balance with a similar amount."

"That was the proceeds of the Brighton mail robbery," I remarked.

Forrest nodded. "That was his only really big coup. As for his other plunder, he probably disposed of the proceeds of all his early cruises on the Continent, at the same time that he sold the diamonds. That which he obtained afterwards was found intact in the safe in his bedroom. Heavens! What an opportunity I missed by not taking out a search-warrant for his house. When we paid our midnight visit, there must have been ample evidence behind the steel door to have convicted him."

The detective was silent for awhile, and bit savagely at his cigar.

"He was not a wealthy man, then," I remarked.

"No," replied Forrest. "There was no trace of his owning any property anywhere, and his expenditure on the gas plant and on his motors—we found that the various parts had been made to specification at a variety of works in England and abroad—had eaten heavily into his capital, so that at the time of the commencement of his career he must have been very nearly penniless. Whether he built the motor with the idea of utilizing it for the purpose he ultimately put it to, of course I cannot say, but I have a shrewd suspicion that he really did design it for the purpose, since from what I have learned of him the predatory instinct must have been pretty strongly developed in him."

The detective paused for a minute, and, flicking the ash off his cigar, gazed meditatively into the fire.

"You shall judge for yourselves," he continued. "Unfortunately, I cannot begin right at the beginning, for I do not know where he was born, nor who his parents were. I can only guess at these facts from the knowledge that, as a boy, he was at school in the south of England, and that then his name was Ram Krishna Roy."

"What?" I asked, in amazement. "A Hindu?"

"An Eurasian, I should fancy," replied Forrest. "He had been sent to school in England by one of those petty Indian princes, who still exercise sovereignty under British suzerainty."

"How did you discover that?" asked Evie.

"It was like this, Mrs. Sutgrove," replied Forrest. "Amongst the papers I spoke about as being in the old portmanteau, were a number of letters written in characters I could not understand. I could see they were oriental, and that was as much as I could make of them, so I took them to a noted oriental scholar who translated them for me. The language was Urdu, and the writer was a munshi, who was obviously communicating with an old pupil. There were so many references to scenes with which the person to whom the letters were addressed, as well as the writer, was familiar, that it was quite clear that the former must have been brought up amidst purely native surroundings. There were one or two more obscure allusions which led me to conclude that the boy's mother must have been a white woman, and from what we saw of him there can be no doubt but that he was white on one side."

"Nobody would have taken him to be aught but an Englishman," murmured Evie.

"No," said Forrest. "I was intensely surprised when I discovered these proofs of his identity and at first I thought they could not apply to him, but before I come to the connecting link, let me mention one curious thing in the letters, which may do something to explain the curious influence which Mannering exerted over Mrs. Sutgrove."

"He hypnotized me, I am sure," declared Evie, decidedly.

"Very possibly," replied the detective. "In nearly every letter was to be found an admonition to the effect—I cannot give you a verbatim translation—that the writer hoped his old pupil would not forget that to him was entrusted the secret power of Siva, which would, by practice, enable him to mould all men to his will."

"If he had possessed that," I interrupted, "there would have been no necessity for him to have practised piracy on the high-road."

"True," said Forrest. "But it is quite possible that Mrs. Sutgrove's conjecture is correct, and that even at that early age Mannering had learnt something about hypnotism from his native instructor, for I am very certain that of these semi-occult sciences, the East has much more precise knowledge than is realized by the Western world."

"Very likely," said my wife, shuddering slightly at the remembrance. "He certainly had a most singular power over me."

"He probably increased his knowledge when he returned to his native land, which, I gathered, must have taken place when he was about seventeen. Then there is a break for nearly ten years in his history."

"I don't quite see how you connect Ram Krishna Roy with Mannering," I interpolated.

"I'm coming to that," replied Forrest. "With these letters was another in its original envelope addressed in the same hand to Julian Mannering at San Francisco. It was the most interesting letter of the lot. It was full of reproaches addressed to the dear pupil, who had cut himself off from the asceticism of the East, and devoted himself to the gross materialism of Western civilization. It concluded by the expression of an intention to once more attempt to persuade him to return by a personal appeal. On the back of the letter was a note in Mannering's handwriting. 'Old Chatterji kept his promise. I had quite a long conversation with him in the ballroom last night. Everybody thought I was drunk or mad to be talking Hindustani, apparently to empty air. However, that's the last of him. I've done with the East.'".

"You make him more a man of mystery than ever," I exclaimed.

"I can't help it," said Forrest. "Perhaps his old tutor really did appear to him. Perhaps Mannering was mad. Who knows? Both are dead. However, he seems to have carried out his intention of not returning to India. Ram Krishna Roy disappeared from that time forth, and Julian Mannering took his place. He seems to have been doing nothing at San Francisco at the time, but a little later he appears to have accepted an appointment as engineer to a mine in Arizona. He left the berth suddenly a few months later, owing to some trouble about the wife of one of the miners. The miner was shot, and his comrades were so incensed that Mannering had to depart hot-foot. Then for awhile I can only guess at his occupation from some newspaper cuttings which he had preserved. These point to his identification with the leader of a gang of desperadoes whose most notable exploit was the successful holding up of a train which had a considerable quantity of specie on board."

"I remember him describing the affair," said Evie, "though he represented himself as on the side of the attacked."

"The only assistance he gave to the plundered was to assist them to a better land by the aid of his gun. He escaped, though, and made his way to Australia, and once again he resumed the practice of his profession,—mining engineering. For three or four years he was engaged at a newly-opened mine in the northern territory of West Australia. But instinct was too strong for him. He must really have had a strong dash of the blood of some of those Indian hill-tribe freebooters in his veins, for he never seems to have been able to resist the prospect of plunder, and the likelihood of having to fight for it seems to have been an additional inducement. Thus, at the mine, under his charge, it was the custom to send, periodically, the gold extracted, under a strong escort, to the nearest town, some forty miles distant. For a long time these consignments were delivered with perfect safety. Then, after a particularly rich vein had been struck, it became necessary to forward a very large consignment of bullion. Contrary to the usual practice, only two men were sent in charge of it. Their dead bodies were afterwards discovered, and the gold was never recovered. No one seems to have had the least suspicion that the gentlemanly engineer at the mine was likely to have had something to do with the business, and when, shortly afterward, he resigned his post and took a passage to Europe, he received the highest possible testimonials from his manager and directors. I have no doubt, myself, that he was the prime mover in the robbery, for his salary was a small one, and directly afterwards he spent six months in Paris, where his expenditure would have been lavish for a millionaire."

"That was where my father met him," remarked Evie. "I remember him expressing surprise at the simplicity of Mannering's life at St. Alban's in view of the luxury with which he had been surrounded when they had met previously."

"Just so," said the detective. "But his Paris career ended as it had commenced. He disappeared suddenly, without a word of farewell to any of his acquaintance, and had it not been for one bit of evidence, I should have had not the slightest idea as to what he had been doing with himself in the interval between that time and his arrival at St. Alban's. You may remember that a scientific expedition was despatched by the Dutch government about six years ago to make some investigations in the interior of New Guinea?"

I shook my head.

"It started six months after Mannering disappeared from Paris, and from the time it left Batavia en route for New Guinea not a word has ever been heard of it."

"You cannot mean to infer that Mannering had anything to do with that?" I asked, incredulously.

"I infer nothing," replied Forrest. "But I do know that a pocketbook, which had belonged to a chemist attached to the exploring party, was one of the documents I found in his bag. The book contained a number of notes upon the liquefaction of gases, and these may very likely have first interested Mannering in the subject. As I have since discovered from a search of the registers at Lloyds that there were quite a number of ships lost about the same time in those seas, I cannot help thinking that our friend had served an apprenticeship under the black flag at sea before taking to land piracy."

"At that rate he must have been the greatest criminal on earth," I declared.

"He was certainly the biggest I ever came across," replied Forrest, "and my only regret is that I was unable to secure him in order that he might have judicially paid the penalty for his crimes."

"It was a pity," I said, "though I fancy if we had trapped him he would have found some means of cheating the gallows and making a melodramatic exit from the world."

"It is more than likely," said Forrest. "He was not the ordinary type of criminal. I was speaking to a big mental specialist the other day, and—but I had better complete the story of his career first. Where did we leave him?"

"New Guinea," I prompted.

"The only other reason I have for suspecting him of being engaged in deeds of violence in that quarter of the globe is that he returned to England via Singapore, with a considerable quantity of bullion in his possession. The rest of his history you know."

"He seems to have had a stirring existence, anyhow," I commented. "And one hardly sees any reason for it save natural sin."

"The alienist I was talking to the other day described him as a moral pervert. He said he was a type of insanity usually associated with physical incapacity or a low order of intelligence, but when, as in Mannering's case, both physique and intelligence were above the average, the moral pervert is a greater danger to the community than an army of ordinary criminals. If ever I said a prayer it would be when a madman of that type was removed from the world."

"Amen," said both Evie and I, heartily.

THE END.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Note:

Text uses both St. Alban's and St. Albans.

Page 24, "has" changed to "had" (papers had not)

Page 76, "continue" changed to "continued" (he continued earnestly)

Page 86, "sang-freid" changed to "sang-froid" (companion's sang-froid soon)

Page 88, "typeing" changed to "typing" (typing, and upon)

Page 139, "choose" changed to "chose" (We chose the footpath)

Page 189, closing quote added (address." Then, after)

Page 242, "couples" changed to "couple" (a couple of minutes)

THE END