AgathaChristie-TheGoldenBall Read online

  Already attracted from afar by the altercation, that functionary came hurrying up.

  "Here, guard," said Mr. Rowland, with that air of authority which the lower classes so adore. "This fellow is

  annoying me. I'll give him in charge for attempted blackmail

  if necessary. Pretends I've got his niece hidden in here.

  There's a regular gang of these foreigners trying this sort

  of thing on. It ought to be stopped. Take him away, will

  you7 Here's my care if you want it."

  The guard looked from one to the other. His mind was soon made up. His training led him to despise foreigners

  and to respect and admire well-dressed gentlemen who travelled

  first-class.

  He laid his hand on the shoulder of the intruder. "Here," he said, "you come out of this."

  At this crisis the stranger's English failed him, and he plunged into passionate profanity in his native tongue.

  "That's enough of that," said the guard. "Stand away, will you? She's due out."

  Flags were waved and whistles were blown. With an unwilling jerk the train drew out of the station.

  George remained at his observation post until they were clear of the platform. Then he drew in his head, and picking

  up the suitcase tossed it into the rack.

  "It's quite all right. You can come out," he said reassuringly.

  The gift crawled out.

  24 Agatha Christie

  "Oh!" she gasped. "How can I thank you?"

  "That's quite all right. It's been a pleasure, I assure you,"

  returned George nonchalantly.

  He smiled at her reassuringly. There was a slightly puzzled

  look in her eyes. She seemed to be missing something

  to which she was accustomed. At that moment, she caught

  sight of herself in the narrow glass opposite, and gave a heartfelt gasp.

  Whether the carriage cleaners do, or do not, sweep

  under the seats every day is doubtful. Appearances were

  against their doing so, but it may be that every particle of

  dirt and smoke finds its way there like a homing bird. George

  had hardly had time to take in the girl's appearance, so

  sudden had been her arrival, and so brief the space of time

  before she crawled into hiding, but it was certainly a trim

  and well-dressed young woman who had disappeared under

  the seat. Now her little red hat was crushed and dented, and

  her face was disfigured with long streaks of dirt.

  "Oh!" said the girl.

  She fumbled for her bag. George, with the tact of a true

  gentleman, looked fixedly out of the window and admired

  the streets of London south of the Thames.

  "How can I thank you?" said the girl again.

  Taking this as a hint that conversation might now be

  resumed, George withdrew his gaze and made another polite

  disclaimer, but this time with a good deal of added warmth

  in his manner.

  The girl was absolutely lovely! Never before, George

  told himself, had he seen such a lovely girl. The ernpressernent of his manner became even more marked.

  "I think it was simply splendid of you," said the girl with

  enthusiasm.

  "Not at all. Easiest thing in the world. Only too pleased

  been of use," mumbled George.

  "Splendid," she reiterated emphatically.

  It is undoubtedly pleasant to have the loveliest girl you

  have ever seen gazing into your eyes and telling you how

  splendid you are. George enjoyed it as much as anyone

  would.

  Then there came a rather difficult silence. It seemed to

  dawn upon the girl that further explanation might be ex

  THE GIRL IN THE TRAIN .

  pected She riohed a little.

  "T'e awkwrd part of it is," she said nervously, "that

  I'm afraid I ca0't explain."

  She looked t him with a piteous air of uncertainty.

  "You can't txPlain?''

  "No."

  "How perfectly splendid!" said Mr. Rowland with enthusiasm.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I said, 'HoOt perfectly splendid.' Just like one of those

  books that kee .yo.u, upall night. The heroine always says,

  'I can't explain in me nrst chapter. She explains in the last,

  of course, and ere's never any real reason why she shouldn't

  have doge so ir the beginning--except that it would spoil

  the story, I cant tell you how pleased I am to be mixed up

  in a real myster'Y--I didn't know there were such things. I

  hope it's got something to do with secret documents of

  immense impor4ance' and the Balkan express. I dote upon

  the Balkan expfess'''

  The girl starsd at him with wide, suspicious eyes.

  "What makes you say the Balkan express?" she asked

  sharply.

  "I hope I ha'qen't been indiscreet,". Georg,e hastened to

  put in. "Your u fcle travelled by t, perhaps.

  "My uncle---"' She paused, then began again, "My un-cie--"

  "Quite so," ;:said George sympathetically. "I've got an

  uncle myself. N°b°dy should be held responsible for their

  uncles, lqature' little throwbacks--that's how I look at it."

  The girl bega&, to laugh suddenly. When she spoke, George

  was aware of the slight foreign inflection in her voice. At

  first he had takffn her to be English.

  "What a refrdshing and unusual person you are, Mr.---"

  "Rowland. cde°rge to my friends."

  ......... Elizabeth--"

  She stopped ;abruptly.

  "I like the nane of Elizabeth," said George, to cover her

  momentary conusi°n' "They don't call you Bessie or anything

  horrible lie that, I hope?"

  She shook hdr head.

  "Well," said George, "now that we know each other,

  Agatha Christie

  w',d !ter get down to business. If you'll stand up, Elizaiomd

  11 bsh down the back of your coat."

  -e StOl up obediently, and George was as good as his

  wCS'

  ,,aank You, Mr. Rowland."

  ·

  e°rge. George to my friends, remember. And .you

  ca- cc°ne into my nice empty carriage, roll under the seat,

  inUC,e me to tell lies to your uncle, and then refuse to be

  you?"

  ,,an You, George."

  "D a-Cs better."

  ,,

  o 1100k quite all fight now? asked Elizabeth, trying

  to ,oV.erher left shoulder.

  look--oh! you look--you look all fight," said

  G,r.ge, Curbing himself sternly.

  ,}[ auSstall so sudde,n,, you see," explained the girl.

  ., ,

  have been.

  -enree saw Us in the taxi, and then at the station I just bolted

  in 0.1%Ving he was close behind me. Where is this

  traJ,.ng to, by the way?"

  °w!a?l's Castle," said George fmnly.

  '' g?l looked puzzled.

  ,°wlatl's Castle?"

  , o-t.at Once, of course. Only after a good deal of stop-

  piE:slt)w going. But I confidently expect to be there

  betv'. ';"unight. The old South-Western was a very reliable

  lina o hut sure--and I'm sure the Southern Railway

  . epmg

  .. ,,

  s up

  the old traditions.

  '.

  Eta.t know that I want to

  go to Rowland's

  Castle,"

  sai,, .beth doubtfully.

  ,,,x,

  o.u. hart
me.

  It's a delightful spot."

  ::xY)

  ever been there?"

  · tly. But there

  are lots of other places you can

  go tO.'.

  tY.°a tlon't fancy Rowland's

  Castle.

  There's Woking,

  and0eW)YrDoClge, and Wi,,mbledon. The

  train is sure to stop at ,oll see," h

  r of them. ,,

  - aid the girl. Yes, I

  can get out there, and

  pe

  ?,?ot%

  back

  to

  London.

  That

  would

  be

  the

  best

  plan,

  l ,v..e:.

  as

  She

  spoke,

  the

  train

  began

  to

  slow

  up.

  Mr. To O mu

  ga - d

  at

  her

  with

  appealing

  eyes.

  THE GIRL IN THE TRAIN

  27

  "If I can do anything-"

  "No, indeed. You've done a lot already."

  There was a pause, then the girl broke out suddenly:

  "I I wish I could explain. I--"

  "For heaven's sake, don't do that! It would spoil everything.

  But look here, isn't there anything that I could do?

  Carry the secret papers to Vienna--or something of that

  kind? There always are secret papers. Do give me a chance."

  The train had stopped. Elizabeth jumped quickly out onto

  the platform. She turned and spoke to him through the

  window.

  "Are you in earnest? Would you really do something for

  us--for me?"

  "I'd do anything in the world for you, Elizabeth."

  "Even if I could give you no reasons?"

  "Rotten things, reasons!"

  "Even if it were--dangerous?"

  "The more danger, the better."

  She hesitated a minute, then seemed to make up her mind.

  "Lean out of the window. Look down the platform as

  though you weren't really looking." Mr. Rowland endeavouted

  to comply with this somewhat difficult recommendation.

  "Do you see that man getting in--with a small dark

  beard--light overcoat? Follow him, see what he does and

  where he goes."

  "Is that all?" asked Mr. Rowland. "What do I "

  She interrupted him.

  "Further instructions will be sent to you. Watch him--and

  guard this." She thrust a small sealed packet into his

  hand. "Guard it with your life. It's the key to everything."

  The train went on. Mr. Rowland remained staring out of

  the window, watching Elizabeth's tall, graceful figure

  threading its way down the platform. In his hand he clutched

  the small sealed packet.

  The rest of his journey was both monotonous and uneventful.

  The train was a slow one. It stopped everywhere.

  At every station, George's head shot out of the window, in

  case his quarry should alight. Occasionally he strolled up

  and down the platform when the wait promised to be a long

  one, and reassured himself that the man was still there.

  The eventual destination of the train was Portsmouth,

  28

  Agatha Christie

  and it was there that the black-bearded traveller alighted. He made his way to a small second-class hotel where he

  booked a room. Mr. Rowland also booked a room.

  The rooms were in the same corridor, two doors from each other. The arrangement seemed satisfactory to George.

  He was a complete novice in the art of shadowing, but was

  anxious to acquit himself well, and justify Elizabeth's trust

  in him.

  At dinner George was given a table not far from that of his quarry. The room was not full, and the majority of the

  diners George put down as commercial travellers, quiet

  respectable men who ate their food with appetite. Only one

  man attracted his special notice, a small man with ginger

  hair'and moustache and a suggestion of horsiness in his

  apparel. He seemed to be interested in George also, and

  suggested a drink and a game of billiards when the meal

  had come to a close. But George had just espied the black-bearded

  man putting on his hat and overcoat, and declined

  politely. In another minute he was out in the street, gaining

  fresh insight into the difficult art of shadowing. The chase

  was a long and a weary one--and in the end it seemed to

  lead nowhere. After twisting and turning through the streets

  of Portsmouth for about four miles, the man returned to the

  hotel, George hard upon his heels. A faint doubt assailed

  the latter. Was it possible that the man was aware of his

  presence? As he debated this point, standing in the hall, the

  outer door was pushed open, and the little ginger man entered.

  Evidently he, too, had been out for. a stroll,

  George was suddenly aware that the beauteous damsel in the office was addressing him.

  "Mr. Rowland, isn't it? Two gentlemen have called to see you. Two foreign gentlemen. They are in the little room

  at the end of the passage."

  Somewhat astonished, George sought the room in question. Two men who were sitting there rose to their feet and

  bowed punctiliously.

  "Mr. Rowland? I have no doubt, sir, that you can guess our identity."

  George gazed from one to the other of them. The spokesman was the elder of the two, a grey-haired, pompous

  gntlemen who spoke excellent English. The other was a

  THE GIRL IN THE TRAIN 29

  tall, somewhat pimply young man, with a blond Teutonic

  cast of countenance which was not rendered more attractive

  by the fierce scowl which he wore at the present moment.

  Somewhat relieved to find that neither of his visitors was

  the old gentleman he had encountered at Waterloo, George

  assumed his most debonair manner.

  "Pray sit down, gentlemen. I'm delighted to make your

  acquaintance. How about a drink?"

  The elder man held up a protesting hand.

  "Thank you, Lord Rowland--not for us. We have bu

  a few brief moments--just time for you to answer from

  question."

  "It's very kind of you to elect me to the peerage," sak

  George. "I'm sorry you won't have a drink. And what

  this momentous question?"

  "Lord Rowland, you left London in company with

  certain lady. You arrived here alone. Where is the lady?"

  George rose to his feet.

  "I fail to understand the question," he said coldly, speak

  ing as much like the hero of a novel as he could. "I hay4

  the honour to wish you good evening, gentlemen."

  "But you do understand it. You understand it perfectly,'

  cried the younger man, breaking out suddenly. "What haw

  you done with Alexa?"

  "Be calm, sir," murmured the other. "I beg of you to b

  calm."

  "I can assure you," said George, "that I know no lad

  of that name. There is some mistake."

  The older man was eyeing him keenly.

  "That can hardly be," he said dryly. "I took the libert

  of examining the hotel register. You entered yourself as M

  G.

  Rowland of Rowland's Castle."
<
br />   George was forced to blush.

  "A--a little joke of. mine," he explained feebly.

  "A somewhat poor subterfuge. Come, let us not be

  about the bush. Where is Her Highness?"

  "If you mean Elizabeth--"

  With a howl of rage the young man flung himself forwar

  again.

  "Insolent pig-dog! To speak of her thus."

  "I am referring," said the other slowly, "as you very we

  30

  Agatha Christie

  know, to the Grand Duchess Anastasia Sophia Alexandra

  Marie Helena Olga Elizabeth of Catonia."

  "Oh!" said Mr. Rowland helpless!y.

  He tried to recall all that he had ever known of Catonia.

  It was, as far as he remembered, a small Balkan kingdom,

  and he seemed to remember something about a revolution

  having occurred there. He rallied himself with an effort.

  "Evidently we mean the same person," he said cheerfully,

  "only 1 call her Elizabeth."

  "You will give me satisfaction for that,:' snarled the

  younger man. "We will fight."

  "Fight?" "A duel."

  "I never fight duels," said Mr. Rowland firmly.

  "Why not?" demanded the other unpleasantly.

  "I'm too afraid of getting hurt."

  "Aha! Is that so? Then I will at least pull your nose for

  you."

  The young man advanced fiercely. Exactly what happened

  was difficult to see, but he described a sudden semicircle in the air and fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

  He picked himself up in a dazed manner. Mr. Rowland was

  smiling pleasantly.

  "As I was saying," he remarked, "I'm always afraid of

  getting hurt. That's why I thought it well to learn jujitsu."

  There was a pause. The two foreigners looked doubtfully

  at this amiable-looking young man, as though they suddenly

  realized that some dangerous quality lurked behind the

  pleasant nonchalance of his manner. The young Teuton was

  white with passion.

  "You will repent this," he hissed.

  The older man retained his dignity.

  "That is your last word, Lord Rowland? You refuse to

  tell us Her Highness's whereabouts?','

  "I am unaware of them myself."

  "You can hardly expect me to believe that."