"God bless my soul!" he exclaimed, his eyes on the figure crouching in the corner, "you don't mean to say you've got her? Apretty dance she led Dug and myself! Well, sir, it looks to me like a good night's work!".
Matthews smiled a self-satisfied smile.
"I fancy the Chief will be pleased," he said, "though the rest of 'em seem to have given us the slip. Gordon, you might take a look upstairs--that door in the corner leads to the upper rooms, Ifancy whilst I'm telephoning to Mr. Okewood. He must know about this without delay. You, Harrison, keep an eye on the girl!"He went through the door leading into the bar, and they heard him speaking on the telephone which hung on the wall behind the counter. He returned presently with a white tablecloth which he threw over the prostrate figure on the floor.
Then he turned to the dancer.
"Stand up," he said sternly, "I want to speak to you."Nur-el-Din cast a frightened glance over her shoulder at the floor beside the table where Rass lay. On seeing the white pall that hid him from view, she became somewhat reassured. She rose unsteadily to her feet and stood facing Matthews.
"In virtue of the powers conferred upon me by the Defence of the Realm Acts, I arrest you foil espionage... Matthews rolled off in glib, official gabble the formula of arrest ending with the usual caution that anything the prisoner might say might be used against her at her trial. Then he said to Harrison:
"Better put them on her, Harrison!"
The plain clothes man took a pace forward and touched the dancer's slender wrists, there was a click and she was handcuffed.
"Now take her in there," said Matthews pointing to the bar.
"There's no exit except by this room. And don't take your eyes off her. You understand? Mr. Okewood will be along presently with a female searcher.""Sir!" said the plain clothes man with military precision and touched the dancer on the shoulder. Without a word she turned and followed him into the bar.
Gordon entered by the door at the end of the room.
"I'd like you to have a look upstairs, sir," he said to Matthews, "there's not a soul in the house, but somebody has been locked up in one of the rooms. The door is still locked but one of the panels has been forced out. I think you ought to see it!"The two men passed out of the tap-room together, and mounted the stairs. On the landing Matthews paused a moment to glance out of the window on to the bleak and inhospitable fen which was almost obscured from view by a heavy drizzle of rain.
"Brr!" said Mr. Matthews, "what a horrible place!"Looking up the staircase from the landing, they could see that one of the panels of the door facing the head of the stairs had been pressed out and lay on the ground. They passed up the stairs and Matthews, putting one arm and his head through the opening, found himself gazing into that selfsame ugly sitting room where Desmond had talked with Nur-el-Din.
A couple of vigorous heaves burst the fastening of the door. The sitting-room was in the wildest confusion. The doors of the sideboard stood wide with its contents scattered higgledy-piggledy on the carpet. A chest of drawers in the corner had been ransacked, some of the drawers having been taken bodily out and emptied on the floor.
The door leading to the inner room stood open and showed that a similar search had been conducted there as well. The inner room proved to be a bare white-washed place, very plainly furnished as a bedroom. On the floor stood a small attache case, and beside it a little heap of miscellaneous articles such as a woman would take away with her for a weekend, a crepe-de-chine nightdress, a dainty pair of bedroom slippers and some silver-mounted toilet fittings. From these things Matthews judged that this had been Nur-el-Din's bedroom.
The two men spent a long time going through the litter with which the floor in the bedroom and sitting room was strewed. But their labors were vain, and they turned their attention to the remaining rooms, of which there were three.
The first room they visited, adjoining Nur-el-Din's bedroom, was scarcely better than an attic. It contained in the way of furniture little else than a truckle-bed, a washstand, a table and a chair. Women's clothes were hanging on hooks behind the door. The place looked like a servant's bedroom.
They pursued their search. Across the corridor two rooms stood side by side. One proved to be Rass's. His clothes lay about the room, and on a table in the corner, where writing materials stood, were various letters and bills made out in his name.