A Sword For the Baron Read Free Page B

know what he brought there isn’t much point in denying it, is there?”
    Mannering laughed. “Nor any point in your asking.”
    She frowned. He suspected that she was becoming angry, and wondered how far anger would disturb her composure; he sensed that she was fighting quite a battle with herself. Her eyes seemed to change colour with her mood; they were darker now, as the sky darkened at the approach of a storm.
    At last she said: “I’m not really sure. I know he brought the leather sheath. I’m not sure whether the sword was in it. Was it?”
    Mannering didn’t answer.
    â€œI suppose it must have been,” she said. “There wouldn’t be any point in bringing the empty sheath, just to fool me, would there?” When Mannering made no comment, she went on: “He knew I was watching him, you see – I expect he knew that I followed him. I may hate him intensely, but he’s no fool. He’s certainly no fool. Mr Mannering – did he come to sell the sword?”
    Mannering was so surprised that he must have shown it; and that told him that it was a clever trick question, for she was watching intently, and he felt sure that she read the answer in his eyes.
    â€œIf he did, he had no right to,” she announced. “It isn’t his.”
    â€œAre you sure about that?”
    â€œOf course I’m sure. It’s a family possession – an heirloom, I suppose, just as much as some of the old masters and the furniture, half of the things in Gentian House. It would be quite wrong of him to sell it.”
    Did she think that was the reason for Gentian’s call? If so, she hadn’t read the truth in Mannering’s eyes.
    â€œNo right at all,” she went on, positively. “Mr Mannering, how much is it worth?”
    He smiled. “How do you expect me to assess it?”
    She frowned again, but good humour lurked in her eyes; it was surprising how like her uncle she was in a lot of ways. She leaned back in her chair, raising her hands if she felt the situation was helpless, and her voice was husky.
    â€œI give up,” she said. “Obviously I’m not going to get any information from you, and perhaps that’s a good thing. But there’s nothing to prevent me from assuming that my uncle brought the sword here, and that he asked you to sell it. And if he did, Mr Mannering, you will be making a very big mistake if you do what he wants. The sword isn’t his to sell. He had no right to bring it away from the house. Will you send it back?” Now she was pleading again, and leaning forward; those glistening red lips with the white teeth parted, had a quality of seductive appeal that a great many men would not have resisted. “Please , Mr Mannering – will you send it or take it back? Surely that isn’t asking too much.” When Mannering didn’t answer, she went on in a low-pitched, urgent voice: “It belongs to the house. He has no moral right to offer it for sale. You must at least believe that – or at the very least, make him prove his right to it before you do anything. Won’t you take it back to the house until he can prove that right?”
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3
DANGEROUS REQUEST
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    The man on the telephone had urged Mannering not to do what this girl asked; Mannering could almost hear his deep voice saying that it might be a matter of life and death. Even on the telephone, coming out of the blue, he had made Mannering feel that there was danger.
    Now the girl spoke with the same passionate intensity – almost as if it would be a matter of life and death to her if the Mogul Sword of Victory was not taken back to Lord Gentian’s house.
    If he could make the girl talk freely, he would learn a great deal about motives and fears; and he wanted to know.
    â€œMr Mannering, please answer me,” Sara Gentian said sharply. “It is so very important.”
    â€œI can see it is,”