Cheyne choked with rage, but for the moment he found himself unable to reply. That he was being bluffed he had no doubt, and in any other circumstances he would have taken a stronger line. But where Joan Merrill was concerned he could run no risks. It was evident that she really was in the power of the gang. Dangle could not possibly have known about the throwing of the tracing over the wall unless he really had found her as he had described.
A very short cogitation convinced Cheyne that these people had him in their toils. Application to Scotland Yard would be useless. No doubt the police could find the conspirators, but they could not find them in time. So far as retaliation or a constructive policy was concerned, he saw that he was down and out.
His thoughts turned to the proposal Dangle had made him. It was certainly fair—too fair, he still thought—but if it was a genuine offer, he need have no qualms about accepting it. Frau Schulz, Mrs. Price, Joan and himself were all promised shares of the profits. A clause could be put in covering Price, if he afterwards turned out to be alive. The gang might be a crowd of sharpers and thieves—so at least the melancholy Speedwell had said—but, as Cheyne came to look at it, they had not really broken the law to a much greater extent than he had himself. His case to the authorities—suppose he were to lay it before them—would not be so overwhelmingly clear. Something could be said for—or rather against—both sides.
If he had to give way he might as well give way with a good grace. He therefore choked down his rage, and turning to Dangle, said quietly:
“I see you’ve won this trick. I’ll accept your offer and go with you.”
Dangle, evidently delighted, sprang to his feet.
“Splendid, Mr. Cheyne,” he cried warmly, holding out his hand. “Shake hands, won’t you? You’ll not repent your action, I promise you.”
But this was too much for Cheyne.
“No,” he declared. “Not yet. You haven’t satisfied me of your bona fides. I’m sorry, but you have only yourselves to thank. When I find Miss Merrill at liberty and see Schulz’s cipher, I’ll be satisfied, and then I will join with you and give you all the help I can.”
Dangle seemed rather dashed, but he laughed shortly as he answered: “I suppose we deserve that after all. But you will soon be convinced. There is just a formality to be gone through before we start. Though you may not believe my word, we believe yours, and we have agreed that all that we want before taking you further into our confidence, is that you swear an oath of loyalty to us. You won’t object to that, I presume?”
Cheyne hesitated, then he said:
“I swear on my sacred honor that I will loyally abide by the spirit of the agreement which you have outlined in so far as you and your friends act loyally to me and to Miss Merrill, and to that extent only.”
“That’s reasonable, and good enough,” Dangle commented. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and phone to the others. You will understand,” he explained on his return, “that my friends are some distance away from Wembley, and it will therefore take them a little time to get in. If they start now they will be there as soon as we are.”
It was getting towards when Cheyne and Dangle turned into the gateway of Earlswood. A yellow car stood at the footpath, at sight of which Dangle exclaimed: “See, they’ve arrived.” His ring brought Blessington to the door, and the latter greeted Cheyne apologetically, but with the same charm of manner that he had displayed in the Edgecombe Hotel at Plymouth.
“I do hope, Mr. Cheyne,” he declared, “that even after all that has passed, we may yet be friends. We admire the way you have fought your corner, and we feel that what we both up to the present have failed to do may well be accomplished if we unite our forces. Come in and see if you can make friends with Sime.”
“I came to see Miss Merrill,” Cheyne answered shortly. “If Miss Merrill is not produced and allowed to go without restraint our agreement is non est.”
“Naturally,” Blessington returned smoothly. “We understand that that is a sine qua non. And so Miss Merrill will be produced. She is not here; she is at our house in the country in charge of Miss Dangle, and that for two reasons. The first is this. She met with, as doubtless you know, a trifling accident last night, and her ankle being a little painful, she was kept awake for some time. This morning when we left she was still asleep. We did not therefore disturb her. That you will appreciate, Mr. Cheyne, and the other reason you will appreciate equally. We had to satisfy ourselves by a personal interview that you really meant to give us a square deal.” He raised his hand as Cheyne would have spoken. “There’s nothing in that to which you need take exception. It is an ordinary business precaution—nothing more or less.”
“And when will Miss Merrill be set at liberty?”
“While I don’t admit the justice of the phrase, I may say that as soon as we have all mutually pledged ourselves to play the game I will take the car back to the other house, and when Miss Merrill has taken the same oath will drive her to her studio. Perhaps you would write her a note that you have
