Mysterious Mr. SabinOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
Mysterious Mr. Sabin
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories; Fiction
Wolfenden lost his match upon the last hole; nevertheless it was a
finely contested game, and when Mr. Sabin proposed a round on the
following day, he accepted without hesitation. He did not like Mr. Sabin
any the better--in fact he was beginning to acquire a deliberate
distrust of him. Something of that fear with which other people regarded
him had already communicated itself to Wolfenden. Without having the
shadow of a definite suspicion with regard to the man or his character,
he was inclined to resent that interest in the state of affairs at
Deringham Hall which Mr. Sabin had undoubtedly manifested. At the same
time he was Helène's guardian, and so long as he occupied that position
Wolfenden was not inclined to give up his acquaintance.
They parted in the pavilion, Wolfenden lingering for a few minutes, half
hoping that he might receive some sort of invitation to call at Mr.
Sabin's temporary abode. Perhaps, under the circumstances, it was
scarcely possible that any such invitation could be given, although had
it been Wolfenden would certainly have accepted it. For he had no idea
of at once relinquishing all hope as regards Helène. He was naturally
sanguine, and he was very much in love. There was something mysterious
about that other engagement of which he had been told. He had an idea
that, but for Mr. Sabin's unexpected appearance, Helène would have
offered him a larger share of her confidence. He was content to wait for
it.
Wolfenden had ridden over from home, and left his horse in the hotel
stables. As he passed the hall a familiar figure standing in the open
doorway hailed him. He glanced quickly up, and stopped short. It was
Harcutt who was standing there, in a Norfolk tweed suit and thick boots.
"Of all men in the world!" he exclaimed in blank surprise. "What, in the
name of all that's wonderful, are you doing here?"
Harcutt answered with a certain doggedness, almost as though he resented
Wolfenden's astonishment.
"I don't know why you should look at me as though I were a ghost," he
said. "If it comes to that, I might ask you the same question. What are
you doing here?"
"Oh! I'm at home," Wolfenden answered promptly. "I'm down to visit my
people; it's only a mile or two from here to Deringham Hall."
Harcutt dropped his eyeglass and laughed shortly.
"You are wonderfully filial all of a sudden," he remarked. "Of course
you had no other reason for coming!"
"None at all," Wolfenden answered firmly. "I came because I was sent
for. It was a complete surprise to me to meet Mr. Sabin here--at least
it would have been if I had not travelled down with his niece. Their
coming was simply a stroke of luck for me."
Harcutt assumed a more amiable expression.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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