The Mystery of the Four Fingers. Fred M. White
long pair of tongs, the white hot crucible was lifted from the fire. It was impossible for the two men outside to see what became of it, but evidently the foreman was satisfied with the experiment, for he gave a grunt of approval.
“I think that will do,” he muttered. “The impression is excellent. Now, you fellows can take a rest whilst I go off and finish the other lot of stuff.”
“He’s coming out,” Venner whispered. “Let us make a bolt for it. It won’t do to be caught here.”
They darted down the corridor together, and stood in an angle of a doorway, a little undecided as to what to do next. The man in the frock coat passed them, carrying under one arm a square case, that bore some resemblance to the slide in which photographers slip their negatives after taking a photograph. The man in the frock coat placed his burden on a chair, and then, apparently, hurried back for something he had forgotten.
“Here is our chance,” Gurdon whispered. “Let’s see what is in that case. There may be an important clue here.”
The thing was done rapidly and neatly. Inside the case, between layers of cotton wool, lay a great number of gold coins, obviously sovereigns. They appeared to be in a fine state of preservation, for they glistened in the light like new gold.
“Put one in your pocket,” whispered Venner.
“I’m afraid we are going to have our journey for our pains; but still, you can’t tell. Better take two while you are about it.”
Gurdon slipped the coins into his pocket, then turned away in the direction of the door as the man in the frock coat came back, thoughtfully whistling, as if to give the intruders a chance of escape. Before he appeared in sight the outer door closed softly, and Venner and Gurdon were in the corridor once more.
VI. A PARTIAL FAILURE
“Do you notice anything peculiar about these coins?” Venner said, when once more they were back in the comparative seclusion of the smoking-room. “Have a good look at them.”
Gurdon complied; he turned the coins over in his hand and weighed them on his fingers. So far as he could see they were good, honest, British coins, each well worth the twenty shillings which they were supposed to represent.
“I don’t see anything peculiar about them at all,” he said. “So far as I can judge, they appear to be genuine enough. At first I began to think that our friend Fenwick had turned coiner. Look at this.”
As he spoke Gurdon dashed the coin down upon a marble table. It rang true and clear.
“I’d give a pound for it,” he said. “The weight in itself is a good test. No coiner yet has ever discovered a metal that will weigh like gold and ring as true. The only strange thing about the coin is that it is in such a wonderful state of preservation. It might have come out of the Mint yesterday. I am afraid we shall have to abandon the idea of laying Fenwick by the heels on the charge of making counterfeit money. I’ll swear this is genuine.”
“I am of the same opinion, too,” Venner said. “I have handled too much gold in my time to be easily deceived. Still, there is something wrong here, and I’ll tell you why. Look at those two coins again, and tell me the dates on them.”
“That is very easily done. One is dated 1901 and the other is dated 1899. I don’t see that you gain anything by pointing out that fact to me. I don’t see what you are driving at.”
“Well the thing is pretty clear. It would be less clear if those coins had been worn by use and circulation. But they are both of them Mint perfect, and they are of different dates. Do you suppose that our friend Fenwick makes a hobby of collecting English sovereigns? Besides, the man in the frock coat was going to do something with these coins; and, of course, you noticed how carefully they were wrapped up in cotton wool.”
“I should like to make assurance doubly sure,” Gurdon said. “Let’s take these two coins to some silversmith’s shop and ask if they are all right.”
It was no far journey to the nearest silversmiths, where the coins were cut up, tested, and weighed. The assistant smiled as he handed the pieces back to Venner.
“We will give you eighteen and sixpence each for them, sir,” he said, “which is about the intrinsic value of a sovereign; and, as you are probably aware, sir, English gold coinage contains a certain amount of alloy, without which it would speedily deteriorate in circulation, just as the old guinea used to; but there is no doubt that I have just lost you three shillings by cutting up those coins.”
Venner smiled as he left the shop. As a matter of fact, he was a little more puzzled now than he had been before. He had expected to find something wrong with the two coins.
“We must suspend judgment for the present,” he said. “Still, I feel absolutely certain that there is some trick here, though what the scheme is I am utterly at a loss to know. Will you come in this evening after dinner and take your coffee and cigar with me? My wife is dining with me, but it was an express stipulation that she should go directly dinner is over.”
At a little after seven Venner was impatiently waiting the coming of Vera. He was not altogether sorry to notice that the dining-room was filling up more rapidly than it had done for some days past. Perhaps, on the whole, there would be safety in numbers. Venner had secured a little table for two on the far side of the room, and he stood in the doorway now, waiting somewhat restlessly and impatiently for Vera to appear. He was not a little anxious and nervous in case something should happen at the last moment to prevent his wife’s appearance. As a rule, Venner was not a man who was troubled much with nerves, though he became conscious of the fact that he possessed them to-night.
Was ever a man so strangely placed as himself, he wondered? He marvelled, too, that he could sit down so patiently without asserting his rights. He was the possessor of ample means, and if money stood in the way he was quite prepared to pay Fenwick his price.
On these somewhat painful meditations Vera intruded. She was simply dressed in white, and had no ornaments beyond a few flowers. Her face was flushed now, and there was in her eyes a look of something that approached happiness.
“I am so glad you have come, dear,” Venner said, as he pressed the girl’s hand. “I was terribly afraid that something might come in the way. If there is any danger—”
“I don’t think there is any danger,” Vera whispered, “though there are other eyes on me besides those of Mark Fenwick. But, all the same, I am not supposed to know anybody in the hotel, and I come down to dinner as a matter of course, I am glad the place is so crowded, Gerald, it will make us less conspicuous. But it is just possible that I may have to go before dinner is over. If that is so, I hope you will not be annoyed with me.”
“You have given me cause for greater annoyance than that,” Venner smiled. “And I have borne it all uncomplainingly. And now let us forget the unhappy past, and try and live for the present. We are on our honeymoon, you understand. I wonder what people in this room would say if they heard our amazing story.”
“I have no doubt there are other stories just as sad here,” Vera said, as she took her place at the table. “But I am not going to allow myself to be miserable to-night. We are going to forget everything; we are going to believe that this is Fairyland, and that you are the Prince who—”
Despite her assumed gaiety there was just a little catch in Vera’s voice. If Venner noticed it he did not appear to do so. For the next hour or so he meant resolutely to put the past out of his mind, and give himself over to the ecstasy of the moment…. All too soon the dinner came to an end, and Gurdon appeared.
“This is my wife,” Venner said simply. “Dear, Mr. Gurdon is a very old friend of mine, and I have practically no secrets from him. All the same, he did not know till last night that I was married—until you came into the room and my feelings got the better