The Lighted WayOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Lighted Way
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories
Arnold hesitated, but only for a moment. The truth, perhaps, was
best.
"Rosario is dead," he replied gravely. "He was stabbed to the heart
and died within a few seconds."
There was a queer silence. Arnold felt inclined to rub his eyes.
Gone was at least part of the horror from their white faces. Fenella
sank back in her chair with a little sob which might almost have
been of relief. Starling, as though suddenly mindful of the
conventions, assumed a grimly dolorous aspect.
"Poor fellow!" he muttered. "And the murderer?"
"He's gotten clean off, for the present at any rate," Arnold told
them. "They seem to think that he reached the Strand and had a motor
car waiting."
Again there was silence. Then Mrs. Weatherley rose to her feet,
glanced for a moment in the looking-glass, and turning round held
out both her hands to Arnold.
"You have been so kind to me," she said softly. "I shall not forget
it--indeed I shall not. Mr. Starling is going to take me home in his
car. Good-bye!"
Arnold held her hands steadfastly and looked into her eyes. They
were more beautiful than ever now with their mist of risen tears.
But there were other things in her face, things less easy to
understand. He turned away regretfully.
"I am sorry that you should have had such a shock," he said. "Is
there any message for Mr. Weatherley?"
She exchanged a quick glance with her companion. Then for the first
time Arnold realized the significance of the errand on which he had
come.
"Some one must have warned Mr. Weatherley of what was likely to
happen!" he exclaimed. "It was for that reason I was sent here!"
Again no one spoke for several seconds.
"It was not your fault," she said gently. "You were told to wait
inside the restaurant. You could not have done more."
Arnold turned away with a little shiver. His mission had been to
save a man's life, and he had failed!
CHAPTER VIII
THE DUTIES OF A SECRETARY
It was twenty minutes to four before Arnold reached the office. Mr.
Jarvis looked at him curiously as he took off his hat and hung it
up.
"I don't know what you've been up to, young man," he remarked, "but
you'll find the governor in a queer state of mind. For the last hour
he's been ringing his bell every five minutes, asking for you."
"I was detained," Arnold answered shortly. "Is he alone now?"
Mr. Jarvis nodded.
"I think that you had better go in at once," he advised. "There he
is stamping about inside. I hope you've got some good excuse or
there'll be the dickens to pay."
The door of the inner office was suddenly opened. Mr. Weatherley
appeared upon the threshold. He recognized Arnold with an expression
partly of anger, partly of relief.
"So here you are at last, young man!" he exclaimed. "Where the
dickens have you been to all this while? Come in--come in at once!
Do you see the time?"
"I am very sorry indeed, sir," Arnold replied. "I can assure you
that I have not wasted a moment that I know of."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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