The Five Knots Read online

  *CHAPTER II*

  *A LITTLE BIT OF STRING*

  Wilfrid Mercer's modest establishment was situated in High Street,Oldborough. A shining brass plate on the front door proclaimed himphysician and surgeon, but as yet he had done little more than publishhis name in the town. It had been rather a venture to settle in aconservative old place like Oldborough, where, by dint of struggling andscraping, he had managed to buy a small practice. By the time this wasdone and his house furnished, he would have been hard put to it to layhis hands on fifty pounds. As so frequently happens, the value of thepractice had been exaggerated; the man he had succeeded had not beenparticularly popular, and some of the older patients took theopportunity of going elsewhere.

  It was not a pleasant prospect, as Mercer admitted, as he sat in hisconsulting-room that wintry afternoon. He began to be sorry that he hadgiven up his occupation of ship's doctor. The work was hard andoccasionally dangerous, but the pay had been regular and the chance ofseeing the world alluring. But for his mother, who had come to keephouse for him, perhaps Wilfrid Mercer would not have abandoned the sea.However, they had few friends, and Mrs. Mercer was growing old and thechange appeared to be prudent. Up to the present Wilfrid had kept mostof his troubles to himself, and his mother little knew how desperatelynear the wind he was sailing in money matters. Unfortunately he had beenobliged to borrow, and before long one of his repayments would befalling due. Sorely against his will he had gone to a money-lender, andhe knew that he could expect no quarter if he failed to meet hisobligations.

  While he sat gazing idly into the growing darkness, watching the thintraffic trickle by, he heard the sound of a motor horn and a momentlater a big Mercedes car stopped before his door. There was animperative ring at the bell, which Wilfrid answered in person.

  "I believe you are Dr. Mercer," the driver said. "If so, I shall beglad if you will come at once to Maldon Grange. My master has met withan accident, and if you cannot come immediately I must find somebodyelse."

  "I believe I can manage it," Wilfrid said with assumed indifference. Hewas wondering who the man's master was and where Maldon Grange might be.A stranger in the neighbourhood, there were many large houses of whichhe knew nothing. It would be well, however, to keep his ignorance tohimself. "If you'll wait a moment I'll put a few things into my bag."

  Few words were spoken as the car dashed along the road till the lodgegates at Maldon Grange were passed and the car pulled up in front of thehouse. A footman came to the door and relieved Wilfrid of his bag. Hespeedily found himself in a morning room where he waited till BeatriceGalloway came in. She advanced with a smile.

  "It is very good of you to come so promptly," she said. "I did notquite catch your name."

  "Surely you have not forgotten me?" Wilfrid said.

  "Wilfrid--Dr. Mercer!" Beatrice exclaimed. "Fancy seeing you here. Whenwe last met in London six months ago I thought you were going abroad. Ihave heard several times from our friend, Mrs. Hope, and as she nevermentioned your name, I concluded you were out of England. And all thistime you have been practising in Oldborough."

  "Well, not quite that," Wilfrid smiled. "I have only been in Oldboroughabout a month or so. I had to settle down for my mother's sake. To meetyou here is a great surprise. Are you staying in the house?"

  "Didn't you know?" Beatrice asked. "Well perhaps you could not. Yousee, when I was staying with Mrs. Hope my uncle was abroad, and I don'tthink his name was ever mentioned. I suppose you have heard of SamuelFlower?"

  Wilfrid started slightly. There were few men who knew more of Flowerand his methods than the young doctor. He had been surgeon on board thenotorious _Guelder Rose_ on which there had been a mutiny resulting inthe death of one of the ship's officers. The _Guelder Rose_ was one ofthe Flower Line, and ugly stories were still whispered of the cause ofthat mutiny, and why Samuel Flower had never brought the ring-leaders tojustice. Wilfrid could have confirmed those stories and more. He couldhave told of men driven desperate by cruelty and want of food. He couldhave told of the part that he himself had played in the outbreak, andhow he had brought himself within reach of the law. At one time he hadbeen prepared to see the thing through. He had been eager to stand inthe witness-box and tell his story. But by chance or design most of themalcontent crew had deserted at foreign ports, and had Samuel Flowerchosen to be vindictive, Mercer might have found himself in a seriousposition. And now, here he was, under the roof of this designingscoundrel, and before him was the one girl in all the world whom hecared for, and she was nearly related to the man whom he most hated andfeared and despised.

  All these things flashed through his mind in a moment. He would have togo through with it now. He would have to meet Samuel Flower face toface and trust to luck. It was lucky he had never met the man whom heregarded as the author of his greatest misfortunes, and no doubt a busyman like Flower would have already forgotten the name of Mercer. It wasa comfort, too, that Beatrice Galloway knew nothing of the antecedentsof her uncle. Else she would not have been under his roof.

  "It is all very strange," he murmured. "You can understand how takenaback I was when I met you just now."

  "Not disappointed, I hope," Beatrice smiled.

  "I don't think there is any occasion to ask that question," Wilfrid saidmeaningly. "But I must confess that I am disappointed in a sense. Yousee, I did not know you were the probable heiress of a rich man like Mr.Flower. I thought you were poor like myself, and I hoped that intime--well, I think you know what my hopes were."

  It was a bold, almost audacious, thing to say in the circumstances, andWilfrid trembled at his own temerity. But, saving a slight flush on thegirl's cheeks, she showed no sign of disapproval or anger. There wassomething in her eyes which was not displeasing to Wilfrid.

  "I am afraid we are wasting time," she said. "My uncle has had a falland cut his hand badly with some glass. He is resting in theconservatory, and I had better take you to him."

  Mercer followed obediently. Samuel Flower looked up with a curt nod, asBeatrice proceeded to explain. Apparently the name of Mercer conveyednothing to him, for he held out his hand in his prompt, business-likefashion and demanded whether anything was seriously wrong.

  "This comes of listening to a woman," Flower muttered. "My niece got itinto her head that a tramp was trying to break into the house, and insearching for him I slipped and came to grief. Of course I found nobodyas I might have known at first."

  "But, uncle," Beatrice protested. "I saw the man's hand through theglass. You can see for yourself where the pane has been removed, andthere, lying on the floor, is the very piece of string he was using."

  Beatrice pointed almost in triumph to the knotted string lying on thefloor, but Flower shook his head impatiently and signified that thesooner Mercer went on with his treatment the better. As it happened,there was little the matter, and in a quarter of an hour the woundedhand was skilfully bandaged and showed only a few strips of plaster.

  "You did that very neatly," Flower said in his ungracious way. "Isuppose there are no tendons cut or anything of that kind? One hears oflockjaw following cut fingers. I suppose there's no risk of that?"

  "For a strong man my uncle is terribly afraid of illness," Beatricesmiled. "I see he owes me a grudge for being the cause of his accident.And yet, indeed, I am certain that a man attempted to enter into theconservatory. Fortunately for me, I am in a position to prove it. Youwon't accuse me of imagining that there is a piece of string lying onthe floor by the door. I will pick it up and convince you."

  Beatrice raised the cord in her hand. It was about a foot in length,exceedingly fine and silky in texture, and containing at intervals fivestrangely complicated knots of most intricate pattern. With a smile oftriumph on her face Beatrice handed the fragment to her uncle.

  "There!" she cried. "See for yourself."

  Flower made no reply. He held the string in his hand, gazing at i
t witheyes dark and dilated.

  "Great heavens!" he exclaimed. The words seemed to be literally tornfrom him. "Is it possible----"