“Now this is very nice of you, my dear-very nice indeed. I meant to come round, but time’s getting short, getting terribly short-first thing to-morrow morning, you know, and I don’t feel as if I should ever be packed in time-I’m not good at it, you know, not at all good at it-never was, never will be-what?”

“Can I help?”

The sound of Margaret’s voice, tired, soft, kind, hurt Charles so much that he could hardly bear it. He could only see those two dark walls and the light coming down between them; but he knew in his heart how Margaret looked when she said that-she was pale, she had dark shadows under her eyes; she looked beautifully and kindly at the little mocking devil who would be charmed to have an excuse for removing her.

Margaret spoke again:

“Freddy, you look bothered, and I’m afraid I’ve come to bother you more. But I must.”

“Anything I can do, my dear.”

“Freddy, I’m in dreadful trouble about Greta.”

“About Greta? There, my dear, don’t distress yourself. What’s she been doing?”

“Freddy-she’s disappeared!”

“Oh, come! Disappeared? You mean she’s gone out with some young fellow and not come back yet. Give her time-what?”

“No, no, it’s not that. She disappeared in broad daylight from Harridge’s. The commissionaire saw her get into a strange car and go off. Archie’s wild with anxiety.”

Freddy laughed, the old rather foolish laugh which was so familiar.

“Master Archie’s in love. He’s jealous because Miss Greta has gone off for the day with someone else.”

“Freddy, it isn’t that. Look here, Freddy, you may have guessed-I don’t know whether you have or not. Greta is Margot Standing.”

Freddy’s exclamation of astonishment sounded so natural that Charles started.

“No! Not really!”

“Freddy”-Margaret’s voice sank low and troubled- “Freddy! Margot Standing-Grey Mask-did you know there was anything?”

Freddy said, “Hush!” on a shocked breath.

“Did you? Freddy, did you now that they wanted her removed? Freddy, I’m so dreadfully frightened.”

Margaret had sunk across the corner of the table now and caught at Freddy’s hand.

“You told me it was political. I believed you until the other day.”

“My dear.”

“Freddy-I believed you.” She looked up at him through a mist of tears. “Freddy, Charles was in his house the day you were ill and sent me to the meeting there. He-heard things. He heard things about Margot. He heard them say she must be removed if her mother’s marriage certificate were found-they talked about a street accident. He heard them. If he hadn’t seen me he would have called in the police then and there. I wish-I wish he had, for I’m desperately afraid about Margot.”

“Now my dear.” Freddy was patting her hand. She pulled it away with a jerk.

“I think they’ve got hold of her. You’ll help-won’t you?” Charles could hear how her voice shook. “Freddy, she’s only a child really-just a pretty baby. You liked her. You can help if you will, because you know where to find him.” The last word came with a gasp.

Freddy Pelham had turned away. He put his hands over his eyes and did not speak.

“Freddy, you did like her. You’ll help.”

“What can I do?”

“You can go to them.”

“No, no.”

“You must go to them, or else”-her voice fell and steadied-“I must go to the police.”

Charles heard a sudden sharp exclamation-protest, terror; then Margaret, very steady:

“If there’s no other way, I must.”

Freddy spoke, terror rushing into panic.

“Don’t be a fool! Charles likes her-do you want him to like her? Aren’t you-fond of him yourself? Let her go. What does it matter to you? Do you want him to fall in love with her? Are you going to ruin yourself and me-and me, to give Charles an heiress? Is that what you’re going to do?”

“Don’t!”

“If it’s ruin for me, you’re in it too. Don’t forget that!”

Charles knew the mockery of that shaking craven voice.

“Yes-I know. But I can’t let that child be hurt.” A strange passion came into her voice. “I ought to have done it before-I sec that now. But I didn’t know the risk she was running-I didn’t-not till the other night. Freddy, that bus-it wasn’t an accident. She was pushed. Freddy, who pushed her?”

With every word she spoke Charles Moray’s agony of apprehension was heightened. He was helpless, voiceless, dead already; and he had to see Margaret draw nearer step by step to the pit into which he himself had fallen. That she was lost from the moment she mentioned the police, he was persuaded; and to listen whilst Freddy played with her, used her to torture him, was the last indignity of pain.

“Who pushed her?”

He heard Margaret say that, and then silence fell-a long, cold silence. He did not see Freddy Pelham’s hand drop down upon his knee. He did not see the mockery that looked out of Freddy Pelham’s eyes.

Margaret saw these things. Only a yard away from her there sat someone whom she had never known, someone whose eyes gave her an unbelievable answer to the question she had asked. The silence went on. Margaret’s very heart was cold with it. She began slowly to believe that unbelievable answer; she began to believe the other things which the silence and those horrible eyes were telling her. She would have been very glad to faint, but her mind was clear and steady; it was her heart that was numb with pain.

After a very long time Charles heard her say “Oh!” The sound broke something, for immediately Freddy Pelham laughed.

“So you’ve answered your very naïve question for yourself. As your friend Archie would say, you’ve got it in one. I was aware that Miss Greta Wilson was Margot Standing. And when she so obligingly prattled at my dinner table about a certificate she found, I thought myself justified in taking a slight personal risk when an exceptionally favourable opportunity presented itself. I reached behind you and at the critical moment I pushed her. If you hadn’t interfered, she would have been very neatly disposed of.”

Margaret sprang to her feet.

“You’re mad! You don’t know what you’re saying!”

“People are always mad when they run counter to the established order. I’ve been very successfully mad for twenty years. I have had very few failures, and not one disaster. I am, in fact, a successful madman.” His tone was coldly amused.

“Who are you?” said Margaret. Even her voice shrank.

Charles could guess at the horror in her eyes. He could guess at Freddy’s smile.

“Don’t you know?”

“No.” It was just a breath.

Freddy Pelham put his hand in his pocket and drew out a small automatic pistol.

“I’m afraid you will have to pay the penalty for knowing that I am Grey Mask,” he said.

CHAPTER XLII

The room was silent. Charles could hear nothing, see nothing. He strained, and heard only the horrid beat of his own pulses.

Margaret’s hands had fallen on the back of the chair by which she stood. It was a heavy mahogany chair with an old-fashioned horse-hair seat. Her hands closed on the smooth mahogany in the hard grip that felt nothing. The pillars of her house had fallen. She stood in the disaster and held blindly to the nearest thing that offered support. The shock was too great for crying out; it struck her dumb. She saw the pistol and the cruelty in Freddy’s eyes. She hoped he would shoot quickly. It was too horrible. She hoped he would shoot quickly.

He did not shoot. He balanced the pistol in his hand and laughed.

“I’m glad you didn’t scream. Marvellous self-control! If you had screamed, I should have had to shoot you at once-and that would have been a pity. I should like”-his voice slipped back into the hesitating voice that she had always known-“I should really like now to have a little talk with you first, my dear-a comfortable talk-what?”