The Bungalow Mystery Read Online Free Page A

face changed to terror.
    â€œYou—you couldn’t!” she gasped, catching at her throat with both hands. “Listen—listen! I will tell you—you shall judge. He was a bad man—Maximilian von Rheinhart—a cruel man. There had been a story. Oh, you are a man, you can guess it; it was all over, quite over and done with—but there were letters and he traded on them, he threatened. At last he promised to give them to me, if I came alone, late at night, to-night. I came, and I found—oh, I cannot tell you any more!” shuddering and burying her face in her hands. “It was awful. But I think if I had been your sister, you would have asked another man to be kind to her, you would not—”
    â€œStop!” Roger held up his hand. “It is for her sake, my child sister’s and for my mother’s, and because you are a woman, and I have your word for it that you have been sorely tried, that I am going to help you now. But how to do it? That is the question. I don’t know—” He paced up and down the small room in perplexity.
    The girl watched him with puzzled eyes.
    â€œIf you will keep silence just a little while, I will make my way to the nearest station; and then—”
    â€œNearest station!” Lavington laughed aloud though there was little enough of real mirth in his merriment “Don’t you know that every stranger at any of the stations round here will be watched and interrogated? Oh, yes; with the help of the telegraph and telephone, Inspector Stables has done his work well—for miles round the police are searching for the woman who wore the suede glove that lay beside the body of Maximilian von Rheinhart, for the owner of the diamond ring.”
    The colour slowly faded from the listener’s face.
    â€œWhat am I to do then?” she exclaimed in consternation. “How am I to get away?”
    Lavington shook his head.
    â€œAt present I can see no way out of it. You are safe here now—but for how long?” shrugging his shoulders hopelessly.
    â€œDo you mean that I cannot get away to-night?” she demanded, her face twitching nervously.
    â€œCertainly not,” Lavington confirmed promptly. “It is out of the question.”
    â€œBut I cannot stay here.”
    â€œI am afraid you will have to,” gloomily.
    The girl stared at him a moment incredulously, then her full underlip began to tremble; to Roger’s horror she buried her face in her hands and burst into a perfect passion of tears.
    He watched her for a minute or two in a species of helpless fascination, wishing vainly that some form of comfort likely to be efficacious would occur to him; the idea of applying to his aunt for help occurred to him, only to be rejected. Miss Chilton was too old and too frail to be troubled with such problems as this girl’s safety involved. The veriest hint of the terrible peril which hung over their guest would be enough to make her absolutely ill, as her nephew well knew. If only his cousin Zoe had been there, he thought vaguely, he would have been able to appeal to her. The recollection of Zoe turned his thoughts to her letter, which still lay on the mantelpiece.
    As he looked at it, vaguely wishing he could ask her advice, a sudden idea flashed into his mind. Zoe’s place, Zoe’s room were waiting for her, his aunt and the servants were expecting her. Suppose, for the nonce, their guest were to become Zoe! The audacity of it almost took his breath away; and yet, the longer he thought of it, the more plainly he saw that it distinctly offered a solution of the difficulty. His eyes turned back to the girl, now sobbing aloud, apparently in the last extremity of despair.
    â€œCan you act?” he asked suddenly.
    The very incongruity of the question seemed to rouse the girl. She raised her eyes, tear-filled, her cheeks still wet.
    â€œAct!” she repeated, in bewilderment.
    â€œYes,