CHAPTER LI. SOPHY MAKES A STRANGE STATEMENT.

"I had never seen Dr. Peterssen, and I imagined it was he who had so unexpectedly presented himself. In that case I was in a quandary. The desk had been stolen from Dr. Peterssen's house, and the clever little thief was dozing in the room. I was implicated in the theft, and had forced the lock with burglar's tools. Without counting the cost we had taken the law into our own hands--usurped its functions, so to speak. Bringing such a man as Dr. Peterssen to book might prove an awkward fix for us. However, I determined to brazen it out.

"The desk being open, the wood of which it was made and the silver with which it was inlaid were not so apparent as they would have been had it been closed. The stranger's eyes did not rest upon it, but wandered to Sophy. My gaze followed his, and I was surprised to observe that there was no sign of recognition in his face. But he may be acting a part, I thought.

"I soon discovered that all my conjectures were wrong.

"'Am I right in supposing that I am addressing Mr. Agnold?' he asked. He spoke with a foreign accent.

"'No,' I said, 'my name is not Agnold.'

"'Mr. Tucker, then?'

"'You are right there.'

"'Mr. Agnold mentioned your name in his letters to Mrs. Braham,' said the stranger. 'Both you and Mr. Agnold are working in that lady's interests. It is exceedingly kind of you.'

"I stared at him. This was not the language that Dr. Peterssen would have used, and my first doubts being dispelled, I saw that my visitor was a gentleman--which Dr. Peterssen is not. But who could he be? I thought it best to hold my tongue; I wished to avoid compromising myself.

"'I, also,' continued the stranger, 'am here in Mrs. Braham's interests. My business admits of no delay. It is necessary that I should see Mr. Agnold immediately.'

"'He is in London,' I said.

"This information appeared to discompose him; but only for a moment.

"'You represent Mr. Agnold?'

"'Yes, I think I may say as much.'

"'Thank you. I have a letter here addressed to him, but it is in an open envelope, and as Mr. Agnold's representative there can be no objection to your reading it.'

"I read the letter, and now in my turn I must have exhibited some sign of discomposure. Without being able to recall its contents word for word, I can sufficiently explain its nature. It was to the effect that the gentleman who presented it, M. Bordier, was empowered by the lady we were working for to join us, if he desired, or to take the affair entirely in his own hands, and assume the direction of it.

"'You are M. Bordier?' I said.

"He bowed. 'I am M. Bordier. The position in which Mrs. Braham and I stand to each other warrants my presence here at this untimely hour. It is due to Mrs. Braham that I should say it was at my urgent request she has given me authority to act for her. I am acquainted with all the circumstances of your proceedings, so far as they have been disclosed in Mr. Agnold's letters.' Again his eyes wandered to Sophy, and he moved a step or two toward her with a look of sympathetic eagerness. 'Is that the young girl who was taken to Dr. Peterssen's establishment as a patient?'

"'Yes,' I replied.

"'Her task, then, is ended. She was in search of a desk. She is a brave little girl, and shall be rewarded. A desk of cedar-wood, inlaid with silver.' He turned suddenly to me, and approached the table. 'She has succeeded,' he said, laying his hand upon the desk and raising the lid. 'Yes, it is the desk. How did you open it? Did you have the key?'

"'No,' I said, with a guilty glance at the tools with which I had picked the lock.

"'Ah, I see. There is a secret drawer in this desk, and you have been seeking for it. Allow me. When I was a young man I had some knowledge of this kind of thing, and was acquainted with the tricks employed by ingenious makers to construct a receptacle in which important papers might be safely concealed. This is no common piece of work, and the so-called drawer may be merely a false panel, with little space behind, but sufficient for the purpose. I will take the liberty of making use of your tools. This dumb shape of wood, Mr. Tucker, may be the arbiter of the happiness of human lives, may be the means of bringing a foul wrong to light.' While he spoke he was busy measuring the thickness of the sides and back and every part of the desk, putting down figures on paper to prove whether any space was not accounted for. He knew what he was about, and I followed his movements with curiosity, learning something from them which may be useful in the future. 'There is no actual drawer,' he continued; 'it must be a panel.' He completely emptied the desk of its papers, and then began to sound the bottom and the sides, listening for signs of a hollow space. 'It is a clever piece of workmanship, but if there is a panel I will find it. I would rather not destroy the desk, but I will do it before I give up the hunt, if I do not succeed in a legitimate way. Ah, I have it! There is a panel. A man might have this desk in his possession a lifetime and not suspect it. See, it moves in a groove, and there is a paper behind.'

"Sure enough, M. Bordier succeeded in sliding a panel in a cunningly made groove, and in drawing forth a paper which had been carefully folded and flattened and inserted in its hiding-place. There was an eager light in his eyes, and his fingers trembled as he unfolded the paper and read what was written thereon. A long sigh of satisfaction escaped him, and he murmured:

"'Thank God! Poor lady, poor lady! But your sufferings are ended now!'

"'M. Bordier,' I said, will you allow me to read the document?'

"He folded it up again, preserving its original creases, and put it in his pocket.

"'Mr. Tucker,' he said, speaking with great politeness; but this he had done all through; the document I have found relates to a private matter of exceeding delicacy, and I cannot show it to you. It is, indeed, a family secret, and none but those directly interested have a right to see it. Thanks for your courtesy, and good-night.'

"Before I had time to remonstrate with him for his high-handed proceeding he was gone. I was dumfounded. It is not often that I find myself unable to act on the spur of the moment, but M. Bordier had deprived me of my self-possession. In a moment or two, however, I recovered myself, and ran out of the room after my visitor. I saw no signs of him. He had vanished. I made my way immediately to the telegraph office, and sent Agnold a telegram--which brings me back to the commencing words of this entry.

"I returned to my room in the inn. Sophy was still dozing. I began to be beset by doubts. What if the stranger who had introduced himself to me as M. Bordier should turn out not to be M. Bordier, after all? What if the letter he gave me to read from Mrs. Braham should be a forged letter? I am greatly to blame. I deserve to have my head punched."

By the time I came to the end of this strange story Sophy had finished her supper, and now came nearer to us.

"Well, Bob," I said, "you have made a mess of it."

"Admitted," said Bob. "Take your share of the blame. You should not have run away to London. Relieve my doubts. Was it, or was it not, M. Bordier who came here?"

"It was certainly M. Bordier," I replied. "The lady you call Mrs. Braham gave him such a letter as you have described, and it is scarcely possible any other person could have obtained possession of it."

"That is some satisfaction. All the same, I have behaved like a fool. I ought not to have allowed him to escape me. I ought to have laid violent hands on him, and detained him till your arrival."

"You would not have succeeded, Bob. From the opinion I have formed of him he would not have submitted, and you would have found yourself worsted. If the document he discovered is what I hope it is, he has a better right to it than you or I. And now, Sophy," I said, turning to the girl, "what is this scare of yours which has taken all the blood out of your face?"

"Stop a bit," said Bob. "It is Sophy's desire that things should be led up to. Let us lead up to this."

Sophy nodded, and I said, "Go on, Bob."

"Well," said he, "I woke Sophy up when I got back here, and told her it was best she should go to bed. Her room was ready for her, and she was dead tired. She refused, and said she would wait up for you--I had told her I had sent you a telegram to come down immediately. I would not let her wait up, but insisted upon her going to bed. She gave in, and I took her to her room. Imagine my surprise. An hour before your arrival she rushed into this room with a face as white as a sheet, and fell down all of a heap into the corner there. I thought she must have had a nightmare, but I could get nothing out of her. She was too frightened to be left alone, and when I started to meet you at the station she came with me. Tried to pump her on the road. Useless. Offers of bribes thrown away. Not a word would she say of the cause of her fright. She promises to be more communicative to you."

"Speak out, Sophy," I said. "I have no secrets from Mr. Tucker, and he must hear what you have to tell."

"You'll never believe me," said Sophy, in a low, fear-stricken tone, "but if it's the last I ever speak it's the truth, and the 'ole truth, and nothink but the truth. I sor it as plain as I see you."

"Saw what?" I asked.

"The ghost of Mr. Felix," she replied.