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Freddy nodded.

“You’re beginning to realize what a dam-fool you’ve made of yourself. Amusing-isn’t it? Just think of all the times you’ve laughed at me behind my back and been nice to me in a pleasant condescending way for Margaret’s sake. And just think what a howling fool you were making of yourself all the time. It’s really rather a pity that I can’t take the gag out and hear what you’ve got to say about it. Perhaps later on, in a more secluded spot-I’m afraid it won’t do here, but I really should like to hear what you’ve got to say. I’m afraid you’re not very comfortable; but that can’t be helped.”

He held the back of the sofa and began to laugh, rocking gently to and fro. “My dear Charles, you’ve no idea what a fool you look! I’m really delighted that you’re not seriously hurt. In case you’re worrying about it, do let me beg you not to be fussed about your wound. It’s really a mere nothing-a graze. You can’t think how pleased I am, because there are things that I’m really going to enjoy saying to you. I’ve always disliked you a good deal. You had the impudence to admire Esther, for one thing, and to combine it with a scarcely veiled contempt for myself. When I broke off your engagement to Margaret, I was really combining business with pleasure. I hope you realize how entirely you owe the pleasure of being publicly jilted on the eve of your wedding day to me.”

Charles had mastered the blind rage which betrayed itself. He kept his eyes on Freddy in a stare of contempt.

“Margaret told you that she saw part of a letter of mine. Naturally I couldn’t risk her marrying you and telling you what she had seen. As a matter of fact, I don’t know how much she did see-but none of it was fit for publication. I don’t think I’ve ever been so careless before or since-I shouldn’t have lasted so long if I had. I’ve had twenty years of it and you’re the very first person who has ever guessed that I was Grey Mask.”

The name fell like a spark into the vague gaseous imaginings that had been coming and going in Charles’ mind. There was a flare which illumined all the dark places. By its light Charles read his death warrant. The only person who had ever guessed the identity of Grey Mask would not be given the chance of passing the secret on. Something of this knowledge must have shown in his eyes, for Freddy laughed.

“You’ve got it, have you? Think it over for a bit.”

He disappeared, crossed to the window, and almost immediately returned.

“Margaret is coming up the garden. Now please realize this-if you make the slightest sound, if you attract her attention in any way, I shall shoot-not you, but her. Don’t imagine for a moment that this is bluff. If it comes in the way of business, I don’t care who I remove. But as a matter of fact, I dislike Margaret almost as much as I dislike you, and if you provide me with the excuse, I shall be charmed. Make as much noise as you please. You can kick the leg of the sofa, I expect, if you try.” He leant over and flicked Charles on the cheek.

The next instant there came a tapping on the window. The sofa was pushed back into its place, and Freddy Pelham’s footsteps receded.

Charles lay quite still. Freddy meant what he said. He had not the slightest doubt of that-not the very slightest. He lay perfectly still, and heard the French window open; Margaret’s voice; Freddy’s voice-the old half-hesitating voice;

“Now this is very nice of you, my dear-very nice indeed. I meant to come round, but time’s getting short, getting terribly short-first thing to-morrow morning, you know, and I don’t feel as if I should ever be packed in time-I’m not good at it, you know, not at all good at it-never was, never will be-what?”

“Can I help?”

The sound of Margaret’s voice, tired, soft, kind, hurt Charles so much that he could hardly bear it. He could only see those two dark walls and the light coming down between them; but he knew in his heart how Margaret looked when she said that-she was pale, she had dark shadows under her eyes; she looked beautifully and kindly at the little mocking devil who would be charmed to have an excuse for removing her.

Margaret spoke again:

“Freddy, you look bothered, and I’m afraid I’ve come to bother you more. But I must.”

“Anything I can do, my dear.”

“Freddy, I’m in dreadful trouble about Greta.”

“About Greta? There, my dear, don’t distress yourself. What’s she been doing?”

“Freddy-she’s disappeared!”

“Oh, come! Disappeared? You mean she’s gone out with some young fellow and not come back yet. Give her time-what?”

“No, no, it’s not that. She disappeared in broad daylight from Harridge’s. The commissionaire saw her get into a strange car and go off. Archie’s wild with anxiety.”

Freddy laughed, the old rather foolish laugh which was so familiar.

“Master Archie’s in love. He’s jealous because Miss Greta has gone off for the day with someone else.”

“Freddy, it isn’t that. Look here, Freddy, you may have guessed-I don’t know whether you have or not. Greta is Margot Standing.”

Freddy’s exclamation of astonishment sounded so natural that Charles started.

“No! Not really!”

“Freddy”-Margaret’s voice sank low and troubled- “Freddy! Margot Standing-Grey Mask-did you know there was anything?”

Freddy said, “Hush!” on a shocked breath.

“Did you? Freddy, did you now that they wanted her removed? Freddy, I’m so dreadfully frightened.”

Margaret had sunk across the corner of the table now and caught at Freddy’s hand.

“You told me it was political. I believed you until the other day.”

“My dear.”

“Freddy-I believed you.” She looked up at him through a mist of tears. “Freddy, Charles was in his house the day you were ill and sent me to the meeting there. He-heard things. He heard things about Margot. He heard them say she must be removed if her mother’s marriage certificate were found-they talked about a street accident. He heard them. If he hadn’t seen me he would have called in the police then and there. I wish-I wish he had, for I’m desperately afraid about Margot.”

“Now my dear.” Freddy was patting her hand. She pulled it away with a jerk.

“I think they’ve got hold of her. You’ll help-won’t you?” Charles could hear how her voice shook. “Freddy, she’s only a child really-just a pretty baby. You liked her. You can help if you will, because you know where to find him.” The last word came with a gasp.

Freddy Pelham had turned away. He put his hands over his eyes and did not speak.

“Freddy, you did like her. You’ll help.”

“What can I do?”

“You can go to them.”

“No, no.”

“You must go to them, or else”-her voice fell and steadied-“I must go to the police.”

Charles heard a sudden sharp exclamation-protest, terror; then Margaret, very steady:

“If there’s no other way, I must.”

Freddy spoke, terror rushing into panic.

“Don’t be a fool! Charles likes her-do you want him to like her? Aren’t you-fond of him yourself? Let her go. What does it matter to you? Do you want him to fall in love with her? Are you going to ruin yourself and me-and me, to give Charles an heiress? Is that what you’re going to do?”

“Don’t!”

“If it’s ruin for me, you’re in it too. Don’t forget that!”

Charles knew the mockery of that shaking craven voice.

“Yes-I know. But I can’t let that child be hurt.” A strange passion came into her voice. “I ought to have done it before-I sec that now. But I didn’t know the risk she was running-I didn’t-not till the other night. Freddy, that bus-it wasn’t an accident. She was pushed. Freddy, who pushed her?”

With every word she spoke Charles Moray’s agony of apprehension was heightened. He was helpless, voiceless, dead already; and he had to see Margaret draw nearer step by step to the pit into which he himself had fallen. That she was lost from the moment she mentioned the police, he was persuaded; and to listen whilst Freddy played with her, used her to torture him, was the last indignity of pain.