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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1155 ***
+
+THE SECRET ADVERSARY
+
+By Agatha Christie
+
+
+
+                   TO ALL THOSE WHO LEAD
+                   MONOTONOUS LIVES
+                   IN THE HOPE THAT THEY MAY EXPERIENCE
+                   AT SECOND HAND
+                   THE DELIGHTS AND DANGERS OF
+                   ADVENTURE
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+PROLOGUE
+
+CHAPTER I.   THE YOUNG ADVENTURERS, LTD.
+
+CHAPTER II.   MR. WHITTINGTON’S OFFER
+
+CHAPTER III.   A SET BACK
+
+CHAPTER IV.   WHO IS JANE FINN?
+
+CHAPTER V.   MR. JULIUS P. HERSHEIMMER
+
+CHAPTER VI.   A PLAN OF CAMPAIGN
+
+CHAPTER VII.   THE HOUSE IN SOHO
+
+CHAPTER VIII.   THE ADVENTURES OF TOMMY
+
+CHAPTER IX.   TUPPENCE ENTERS DOMESTIC SERVICE
+
+CHAPTER X.   ENTER SIR JAMES PEEL EDGERTON
+
+CHAPTER XI.   JULIUS TELLS A STORY
+
+CHAPTER XII.   A FRIEND IN NEED
+
+CHAPTER XIII.   THE VIGIL
+
+CHAPTER XIV.   A CONSULTATION
+
+CHAPTER XV.   TUPPENCE RECEIVES A PROPOSAL
+
+CHAPTER XVI.   FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOMMY
+
+CHAPTER XVII.   ANNETTE
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.   THE TELEGRAM
+
+CHAPTER XIX.   JANE FINN
+
+CHAPTER XX.   TOO LATE
+
+CHAPTER XXI.   TOMMY MAKES A DISCOVERY
+
+CHAPTER XXII.   IN DOWNING STREET
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.   A RACE AGAINST TIME
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.   JULIUS TAKES A HAND
+
+CHAPTER XXV.   JANE’S STORY
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.   MR. BROWN
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.   A SUPPER PARTY AT THE _SAVOY_
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.     AND AFTER
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE
+
+IT was 2 p.m. on the afternoon of May 7, 1915. The _Lusitania_ had been
+struck by two torpedoes in succession and was sinking rapidly, while
+the boats were being launched with all possible speed. The women and
+children were being lined up awaiting their turn. Some still clung
+desperately to husbands and fathers; others clutched their children
+closely to their breasts. One girl stood alone, slightly apart from
+the rest. She was quite young, not more than eighteen. She did not seem
+afraid, and her grave, steadfast eyes looked straight ahead.
+
+“I beg your pardon.”
+
+A man’s voice beside her made her start and turn. She had noticed the
+speaker more than once amongst the first-class passengers. There had
+been a hint of mystery about him which had appealed to her imagination.
+He spoke to no one. If anyone spoke to him he was quick to rebuff the
+overture. Also he had a nervous way of looking over his shoulder with a
+swift, suspicious glance.
+
+She noticed now that he was greatly agitated. There were beads of
+perspiration on his brow. He was evidently in a state of overmastering
+fear. And yet he did not strike her as the kind of man who would be
+afraid to meet death!
+
+“Yes?” Her grave eyes met his inquiringly.
+
+He stood looking at her with a kind of desperate irresolution.
+
+“It must be!” he muttered to himself. “Yes--it is the only way.” Then
+aloud he said abruptly: “You are an American?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“A patriotic one?”
+
+The girl flushed.
+
+“I guess you’ve no right to ask such a thing! Of course I am!”
+
+“Don’t be offended. You wouldn’t be if you knew how much there was at
+stake. But I’ve got to trust some one--and it must be a woman.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because of ‘women and children first.’” He looked round and lowered his
+voice. “I’m carrying papers--vitally important papers. They may make all
+the difference to the Allies in the war. You understand? These papers
+have _got_ to be saved! They’ve more chance with you than with me. Will
+you take them?”
+
+The girl held out her hand.
+
+“Wait--I must warn you. There may be a risk--if I’ve been followed. I
+don’t think I have, but one never knows. If so, there will be danger.
+Have you the nerve to go through with it?”
+
+The girl smiled.
+
+“I’ll go through with it all right. And I’m real proud to be chosen!
+What am I to do with them afterwards?”
+
+“Watch the newspapers! I’ll advertise in the personal column of the
+_Times_, beginning ‘Shipmate.’ At the end of three days if there’s
+nothing--well, you’ll know I’m down and out. Then take the packet to
+the American Embassy, and deliver it into the Ambassador’s own hands. Is
+that clear?”
+
+“Quite clear.”
+
+“Then be ready--I’m going to say good-bye.” He took her hand in his.
+“Good-bye. Good luck to you,” he said in a louder tone.
+
+Her hand closed on the oilskin packet that had lain in his palm.
+
+The _Lusitania_ settled with a more decided list to starboard. In answer
+to a quick command, the girl went forward to take her place in the boat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE YOUNG ADVENTURERS, LTD.
+
+“TOMMY, old thing!”
+
+“Tuppence, old bean!”
+
+The two young people greeted each other affectionately, and momentarily
+blocked the Dover Street Tube exit in doing so. The adjective “old”
+ was misleading. Their united ages would certainly not have totalled
+forty-five.
+
+“Not seen you for simply centuries,” continued the young man. “Where are
+you off to? Come and chew a bun with me. We’re getting a bit unpopular
+here--blocking the gangway as it were. Let’s get out of it.”
+
+The girl assenting, they started walking down Dover Street towards
+Piccadilly.
+
+“Now then,” said Tommy, “where shall we go?”
+
+The very faint anxiety which underlay his tone did not escape the astute
+ears of Miss Prudence Cowley, known to her intimate friends for some
+mysterious reason as “Tuppence.” She pounced at once.
+
+“Tommy, you’re stony!”
+
+“Not a bit of it,” declared Tommy unconvincingly. “Rolling in cash.”
+
+“You always were a shocking liar,” said Tuppence severely, “though you
+did once persuade Sister Greenbank that the doctor had ordered you beer
+as a tonic, but forgotten to write it on the chart. Do you remember?”
+
+Tommy chuckled.
+
+“I should think I did! Wasn’t the old cat in a rage when she found
+out? Not that she was a bad sort really, old Mother Greenbank! Good old
+hospital--demobbed like everything else, I suppose?”
+
+Tuppence sighed.
+
+“Yes. You too?”
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“Two months ago.”
+
+“Gratuity?” hinted Tuppence.
+
+“Spent.”
+
+“Oh, Tommy!”
+
+“No, old thing, not in riotous dissipation. No such luck! The cost of
+living--ordinary plain, or garden living nowadays is, I assure you, if
+you do not know----”
+
+“My dear child,” interrupted Tuppence, “there is nothing I do _not_ know
+about the cost of living. Here we are at Lyons’, and we will each of us
+pay for our own. That’s it!” And Tuppence led the way upstairs.
+
+The place was full, and they wandered about looking for a table,
+catching odds and ends of conversation as they did so.
+
+“And--do you know, she sat down and _cried_ when I told her she couldn’t
+have the flat after all.” “It was simply a _bargain_, my dear! Just like
+the one Mabel Lewis brought from Paris----”
+
+“Funny scraps one does overhear,” murmured Tommy. “I passed two Johnnies
+in the street to-day talking about some one called Jane Finn. Did you
+ever hear such a name?”
+
+But at that moment two elderly ladies rose and collected parcels, and
+Tuppence deftly ensconced herself in one of the vacant seats.
+
+Tommy ordered tea and buns. Tuppence ordered tea and buttered toast.
+
+“And mind the tea comes in separate teapots,” she added severely.
+
+Tommy sat down opposite her. His bared head revealed a shock
+of exquisitely slicked-back red hair. His face was pleasantly
+ugly--nondescript, yet unmistakably the face of a gentleman and a
+sportsman. His brown suit was well cut, but perilously near the end of
+its tether.
+
+They were an essentially modern-looking couple as they sat there.
+Tuppence had no claim to beauty, but there was character and charm in
+the elfin lines of her little face, with its determined chin and large,
+wide-apart grey eyes that looked mistily out from under straight, black
+brows. She wore a small bright green toque over her black bobbed hair,
+and her extremely short and rather shabby skirt revealed a pair of
+uncommonly dainty ankles. Her appearance presented a valiant attempt at
+smartness.
+
+The tea came at last, and Tuppence, rousing herself from a fit of
+meditation, poured it out.
+
+“Now then,” said Tommy, taking a large bite of bun, “let’s get
+up-to-date. Remember, I haven’t seen you since that time in hospital in
+1916.”
+
+“Very well.” Tuppence helped herself liberally to buttered toast.
+“Abridged biography of Miss Prudence Cowley, fifth daughter of
+Archdeacon Cowley of Little Missendell, Suffolk. Miss Cowley left the
+delights (and drudgeries) of her home life early in the war and came up
+to London, where she entered an officers’ hospital. First month: Washed
+up six hundred and forty-eight plates every day. Second month: Promoted
+to drying aforesaid plates. Third month: Promoted to peeling potatoes.
+Fourth month: Promoted to cutting bread and butter. Fifth month:
+Promoted one floor up to duties of wardmaid with mop and pail. Sixth
+month: Promoted to waiting at table. Seventh month: Pleasing appearance
+and nice manners so striking that am promoted to waiting on the Sisters!
+Eighth month: Slight check in career. Sister Bond ate Sister Westhaven’s
+egg! Grand row! Wardmaid clearly to blame! Inattention in such important
+matters cannot be too highly censured. Mop and pail again! How are the
+mighty fallen! Ninth month: Promoted to sweeping out wards, where I
+found a friend of my childhood in Lieutenant Thomas Beresford (bow,
+Tommy!), whom I had not seen for five long years. The meeting was
+affecting! Tenth month: Reproved by matron for visiting the pictures in
+company with one of the patients, namely: the aforementioned Lieutenant
+Thomas Beresford. Eleventh and twelfth months: Parlourmaid duties
+resumed with entire success. At the end of the year left hospital in a
+blaze of glory. After that, the talented Miss Cowley drove successively
+a trade delivery van, a motor-lorry and a general! The last was the
+pleasantest. He was quite a young general!”
+
+“What blighter was that?” inquired Tommy. “Perfectly sickening the way
+those brass hats drove from the War Office to the _Savoy_, and from the
+_Savoy_ to the War Office!”
+
+“I’ve forgotten his name now,” confessed Tuppence. “To resume, that was
+in a way the apex of my career. I next entered a Government office. We
+had several very enjoyable tea parties. I had intended to become a
+land girl, a postwoman, and a bus conductress by way of rounding off
+my career--but the Armistice intervened! I clung to the office with the
+true limpet touch for many long months, but, alas, I was combed out at
+last. Since then I’ve been looking for a job. Now then--your turn.”
+
+“There’s not so much promotion in mine,” said Tommy regretfully, “and a
+great deal less variety. I went out to France again, as you know. Then
+they sent me to Mesopotamia, and I got wounded for the second time,
+and went into hospital out there. Then I got stuck in Egypt till the
+Armistice happened, kicked my heels there some time longer, and, as I
+told you, finally got demobbed. And, for ten long, weary months I’ve
+been job hunting! There aren’t any jobs! And, if there were, they
+wouldn’t give ‘em to me. What good am I? What do I know about business?
+Nothing.”
+
+Tuppence nodded gloomily.
+
+“What about the colonies?” she suggested.
+
+Tommy shook his head.
+
+“I shouldn’t like the colonies--and I’m perfectly certain they wouldn’t
+like me!”
+
+“Rich relations?”
+
+Again Tommy shook his head.
+
+“Oh, Tommy, not even a great-aunt?”
+
+“I’ve got an old uncle who’s more or less rolling, but he’s no good.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Wanted to adopt me once. I refused.”
+
+“I think I remember hearing about it,” said Tuppence slowly. “You
+refused because of your mother----”
+
+Tommy flushed.
+
+“Yes, it would have been a bit rough on the mater. As you know, I was
+all she had. Old boy hated her--wanted to get me away from her. Just a
+bit of spite.”
+
+“Your mother’s dead, isn’t she?” said Tuppence gently.
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+Tuppence’s large grey eyes looked misty.
+
+“You’re a good sort, Tommy. I always knew it.”
+
+“Rot!” said Tommy hastily. “Well, that’s my position. I’m just about
+desperate.”
+
+“So am I! I’ve hung out as long as I could. I’ve touted round. I’ve
+answered advertisements. I’ve tried every mortal blessed thing. I’ve
+screwed and saved and pinched! But it’s no good. I shall have to go
+home!”
+
+“Don’t you want to?”
+
+“Of course I don’t want to! What’s the good of being sentimental?
+Father’s a dear--I’m awfully fond of him--but you’ve no idea how I worry
+him! He has that delightful early Victorian view that short skirts and
+smoking are immoral. You can imagine what a thorn in the flesh I am to
+him! He just heaved a sigh of relief when the war took me off. You see,
+there are seven of us at home. It’s awful! All housework and mothers’
+meetings! I have always been the changeling. I don’t want to go back,
+but--oh, Tommy, what else is there to do?”
+
+Tommy shook his head sadly. There was a silence, and then Tuppence burst
+out:
+
+“Money, money, money! I think about money morning, noon and night! I
+dare say it’s mercenary of me, but there it is!”
+
+“Same here,” agreed Tommy with feeling.
+
+“I’ve thought over every imaginable way of getting it too,” continued
+Tuppence. “There are only three! To be left it, to marry it, or to make
+it. First is ruled out. I haven’t got any rich elderly relatives. Any
+relatives I have are in homes for decayed gentlewomen! I always help old
+ladies over crossings, and pick up parcels for old gentlemen, in case
+they should turn out to be eccentric millionaires. But not one of them
+has ever asked me my name--and quite a lot never said ‘Thank you.’”
+
+There was a pause.
+
+“Of course,” resumed Tuppence, “marriage is my best chance. I made up my
+mind to marry money when I was quite young. Any thinking girl would!
+I’m not sentimental, you know.” She paused. “Come now, you can’t say I’m
+sentimental,” she added sharply.
+
+“Certainly not,” agreed Tommy hastily. “No one would ever think of
+sentiment in connection with you.”
+
+“That’s not very polite,” replied Tuppence. “But I dare say you mean it
+all right. Well, there it is! I’m ready and willing--but I never meet
+any rich men! All the boys I know are about as hard up as I am.”
+
+“What about the general?” inquired Tommy.
+
+“I fancy he keeps a bicycle shop in time of peace,” explained Tuppence.
+“No, there it is! Now _you_ could marry a rich girl.”
+
+“I’m like you. I don’t know any.”
+
+“That doesn’t matter. You can always get to know one. Now, if I see a
+man in a fur coat come out of the _Ritz_ I can’t rush up to him and say:
+‘Look here, you’re rich. I’d like to know you.’”
+
+“Do you suggest that I should do that to a similarly garbed female?”
+
+“Don’t be silly. You tread on her foot, or pick up her handkerchief, or
+something like that. If she thinks you want to know her she’s flattered,
+and will manage it for you somehow.”
+
+“You overrate my manly charms,” murmured Tommy.
+
+“On the other hand,” proceeded Tuppence, “my millionaire would probably
+run for his life! No--marriage is fraught with difficulties. Remains--to
+_make_ money!”
+
+“We’ve tried that, and failed,” Tommy reminded her.
+
+“We’ve tried all the orthodox ways, yes. But suppose we try the
+unorthodox. Tommy, let’s be adventurers!”
+
+“Certainly,” replied Tommy cheerfully. “How do we begin?”
+
+“That’s the difficulty. If we could make ourselves known, people might
+hire us to commit crimes for them.”
+
+“Delightful,” commented Tommy. “Especially coming from a clergyman’s
+daughter!”
+
+“The moral guilt,” Tuppence pointed out, “would be theirs--not mine. You
+must admit that there’s a difference between stealing a diamond necklace
+for yourself and being hired to steal it.”
+
+“There wouldn’t be the least difference if you were caught!”
+
+“Perhaps not. But I shouldn’t be caught. I’m so clever.”
+
+“Modesty always was your besetting sin,” remarked Tommy.
+
+“Don’t rag. Look here, Tommy, shall we really? Shall we form a business
+partnership?”
+
+“Form a company for the stealing of diamond necklaces?”
+
+“That was only an illustration. Let’s have a--what do you call it in
+book-keeping?”
+
+“Don’t know. Never did any.”
+
+“I have--but I always got mixed up, and used to put credit entries on
+the debit side, and vice versa--so they fired me out. Oh, I know--a
+joint venture! It struck me as such a romantic phrase to come across in
+the middle of musty old figures. It’s got an Elizabethan flavour about
+it--makes one think of galleons and doubloons. A joint venture!”
+
+“Trading under the name of the Young Adventurers, Ltd.? Is that your
+idea, Tuppence?”
+
+“It’s all very well to laugh, but I feel there might be something in
+it.”
+
+“How do you propose to get in touch with your would-be employers?”
+
+“Advertisement,” replied Tuppence promptly. “Have you got a bit of paper
+and a pencil? Men usually seem to have. Just like we have hairpins and
+powder-puffs.”
+
+Tommy handed over a rather shabby green notebook, and Tuppence began
+writing busily.
+
+“Shall we begin: ‘Young officer, twice wounded in the war----’”
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“Oh, very well, my dear boy. But I can assure you that that sort of
+thing might touch the heart of an elderly spinster, and she might adopt
+you, and then there would be no need for you to be a young adventurer at
+all.”
+
+“I don’t want to be adopted.”
+
+“I forgot you had a prejudice against it. I was only ragging you!
+The papers are full up to the brim with that type of thing. Now
+listen--how’s this? ‘Two young adventurers for hire. Willing to do
+anything, go anywhere. Pay must be good.’ (We might as well make
+that clear from the start.) Then we might add: ‘No reasonable offer
+refused’--like flats and furniture.”
+
+“I should think any offer we get in answer to that would be a pretty
+_un_reasonable one!”
+
+“Tommy! You’re a genius! That’s ever so much more chic. ‘No unreasonable
+offer refused--if pay is good.’ How’s that?”
+
+“I shouldn’t mention pay again. It looks rather eager.”
+
+“It couldn’t look as eager as I feel! But perhaps you are right. Now
+I’ll read it straight through. ‘Two young adventurers for hire. Willing
+to do anything, go anywhere. Pay must be good. No unreasonable offer
+refused.’ How would that strike you if you read it?”
+
+“It would strike me as either being a hoax, or else written by a
+lunatic.”
+
+“It’s not half so insane as a thing I read this morning beginning
+‘Petunia’ and signed ‘Best Boy.’” She tore out the leaf and handed it
+to Tommy. “There you are. _Times_, I think. Reply to Box so-and-so.
+I expect it will be about five shillings. Here’s half a crown for my
+share.”
+
+Tommy was holding the paper thoughtfully. His faced burned a deeper red.
+
+“Shall we really try it?” he said at last. “Shall we, Tuppence? Just for
+the fun of the thing?”
+
+“Tommy, you’re a sport! I knew you would be! Let’s drink to success.”
+ She poured some cold dregs of tea into the two cups.
+
+“Here’s to our joint venture, and may it prosper!”
+
+“The Young Adventurers, Ltd.!” responded Tommy.
+
+They put down the cups and laughed rather uncertainly. Tuppence rose.
+
+“I must return to my palatial suite at the hostel.”
+
+“Perhaps it is time I strolled round to the _Ritz_,” agreed Tommy with a
+grin. “Where shall we meet? And when?”
+
+“Twelve o’clock to-morrow. Piccadilly Tube station. Will that suit you?”
+
+“My time is my own,” replied Mr. Beresford magnificently.
+
+“So long, then.”
+
+“Good-bye, old thing.”
+
+The two young people went off in opposite directions. Tuppence’s hostel
+was situated in what was charitably called Southern Belgravia. For
+reasons of economy she did not take a bus.
+
+She was half-way across St. James’s Park, when a man’s voice behind her
+made her start.
+
+“Excuse me,” it said. “But may I speak to you for a moment?”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. MR. WHITTINGTON’S OFFER
+
+TUPPENCE turned sharply, but the words hovering on the tip of her tongue
+remained unspoken, for the man’s appearance and manner did not bear out
+her first and most natural assumption. She hesitated. As if he read her
+thoughts, the man said quickly:
+
+“I can assure you I mean no disrespect.”
+
+Tuppence believed him. Although she disliked and distrusted him
+instinctively, she was inclined to acquit him of the particular motive
+which she had at first attributed to him. She looked him up and down. He
+was a big man, clean shaven, with a heavy jowl. His eyes were small and
+cunning, and shifted their glance under her direct gaze.
+
+“Well, what is it?” she asked.
+
+The man smiled.
+
+“I happened to overhear part of your conversation with the young
+gentleman in Lyons’.”
+
+“Well--what of it?”
+
+“Nothing--except that I think I may be of some use to you.”
+
+Another inference forced itself into Tuppence’s mind:
+
+“You followed me here?”
+
+“I took that liberty.”
+
+“And in what way do you think you could be of use to me?”
+
+The man took a card from his pocket and handed it to her with a bow.
+
+Tuppence took it and scrutinized it carefully. It bore the inscription,
+“Mr. Edward Whittington.” Below the name were the words “Esthonia
+Glassware Co.,” and the address of a city office. Mr. Whittington spoke
+again:
+
+“If you will call upon me to-morrow morning at eleven o’clock, I will
+lay the details of my proposition before you.”
+
+“At eleven o’clock?” said Tuppence doubtfully.
+
+“At eleven o’clock.”
+
+Tuppence made up her mind.
+
+“Very well. I’ll be there.”
+
+“Thank you. Good evening.”
+
+He raised his hat with a flourish, and walked away. Tuppence remained
+for some minutes gazing after him. Then she gave a curious movement of
+her shoulders, rather as a terrier shakes himself.
+
+“The adventures have begun,” she murmured to herself. “What does he want
+me to do, I wonder? There’s something about you, Mr. Whittington, that I
+don’t like at all. But, on the other hand, I’m not the least bit afraid
+of you. And as I’ve said before, and shall doubtless say again, little
+Tuppence can look after herself, thank you!”
+
+And with a short, sharp nod of her head she walked briskly onward. As a
+result of further meditations, however, she turned aside from the direct
+route and entered a post office. There she pondered for some moments,
+a telegraph form in her hand. The thought of a possible five shillings
+spent unnecessarily spurred her to action, and she decided to risk the
+waste of ninepence.
+
+Disdaining the spiky pen and thick, black treacle which a beneficent
+Government had provided, Tuppence drew out Tommy’s pencil which she had
+retained and wrote rapidly: “Don’t put in advertisement. Will explain
+to-morrow.” She addressed it to Tommy at his club, from which in one
+short month he would have to resign, unless a kindly fortune permitted
+him to renew his subscription.
+
+“It may catch him,” she murmured. “Anyway, it’s worth trying.”
+
+After handing it over the counter she set out briskly for home, stopping
+at a baker’s to buy three penny-worth of new buns.
+
+Later, in her tiny cubicle at the top of the house she munched buns and
+reflected on the future. What was the Esthonia Glassware Co., and what
+earthly need could it have for her services? A pleasurable thrill of
+excitement made Tuppence tingle. At any rate, the country vicarage had
+retreated into the background again. The morrow held possibilities.
+
+It was a long time before Tuppence went to sleep that night, and, when
+at length she did, she dreamed that Mr. Whittington had set her to
+washing up a pile of Esthonia Glassware, which bore an unaccountable
+resemblance to hospital plates!
+
+It wanted some five minutes to eleven when Tuppence reached the block
+of buildings in which the offices of the Esthonia Glassware Co. were
+situated. To arrive before the time would look over-eager. So Tuppence
+decided to walk to the end of the street and back again. She did so. On
+the stroke of eleven she plunged into the recesses of the building.
+The Esthonia Glassware Co. was on the top floor. There was a lift, but
+Tuppence chose to walk up.
+
+Slightly out of breath, she came to a halt outside the ground glass door
+with the legend painted across it “Esthonia Glassware Co.”
+
+Tuppence knocked. In response to a voice from within, she turned the
+handle and walked into a small rather dirty outer office.
+
+A middle-aged clerk got down from a high stool at a desk near the window
+and came towards her inquiringly.
+
+“I have an appointment with Mr. Whittington,” said Tuppence.
+
+“Will you come this way, please.” He crossed to a partition door with
+“Private” on it, knocked, then opened the door and stood aside to let
+her pass in.
+
+Mr. Whittington was seated behind a large desk covered with papers.
+Tuppence felt her previous judgment confirmed. There was something wrong
+about Mr. Whittington. The combination of his sleek prosperity and his
+shifty eye was not attractive.
+
+He looked up and nodded.
+
+“So you’ve turned up all right? That’s good. Sit down, will you?”
+
+Tuppence sat down on the chair facing him. She looked particularly small
+and demure this morning. She sat there meekly with downcast eyes whilst
+Mr. Whittington sorted and rustled amongst his papers. Finally he pushed
+them away, and leaned over the desk.
+
+“Now, my dear young lady, let us come to business.” His large face
+broadened into a smile. “You want work? Well, I have work to offer
+you. What should you say now to £100 down, and all expenses paid?” Mr.
+Whittington leaned back in his chair, and thrust his thumbs into the
+arm-holes of his waistcoat.
+
+Tuppence eyed him warily.
+
+“And the nature of the work?” she demanded.
+
+“Nominal--purely nominal. A pleasant trip, that is all.”
+
+“Where to?”
+
+Mr. Whittington smiled again.
+
+“Paris.”
+
+“Oh!” said Tuppence thoughtfully. To herself she said: “Of course,
+if father heard that he would have a fit! But somehow I don’t see Mr.
+Whittington in the role of the gay deceiver.”
+
+“Yes,” continued Whittington. “What could be more delightful? To put the
+clock back a few years--a very few, I am sure--and re-enter one of those
+charming _pensionnats de jeunes filles_ with which Paris abounds----”
+
+Tuppence interrupted him.
+
+“A _pensionnat?_”
+
+“Exactly. Madame Colombier’s in the Avenue de Neuilly.”
+
+Tuppence knew the name well. Nothing could have been more select. She
+had had several American friends there. She was more than ever puzzled.
+
+“You want me to go to Madame Colombier’s? For how long?”
+
+“That depends. Possibly three months.”
+
+“And that is all? There are no other conditions?”
+
+“None whatever. You would, of course, go in the character of my ward,
+and you would hold no communication with your friends. I should have
+to request absolute secrecy for the time being. By the way, you are
+English, are you not?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Yet you speak with a slight American accent?”
+
+“My great pal in hospital was a little American girl. I dare say I
+picked it up from her. I can soon get out of it again.”
+
+“On the contrary, it might be simpler for you to pass as an American.
+Details about your past life in England might be more difficult to
+sustain. Yes, I think that would be decidedly better. Then----”
+
+“One moment, Mr. Whittington! You seem to be taking my consent for
+granted.”
+
+Whittington looked surprised.
+
+“Surely you are not thinking of refusing? I can assure you that Madame
+Colombier’s is a most high-class and orthodox establishment. And the
+terms are most liberal.”
+
+“Exactly,” said Tuppence. “That’s just it. The terms are almost too
+liberal, Mr. Whittington. I cannot see any way in which I can be worth
+that amount of money to you.”
+
+“No?” said Whittington softly. “Well, I will tell you. I could doubtless
+obtain some one else for very much less. What I am willing to pay for
+is a young lady with sufficient intelligence and presence of mind to
+sustain her part well, and also one who will have sufficient discretion
+not to ask too many questions.”
+
+Tuppence smiled a little. She felt that Whittington had scored.
+
+“There’s another thing. So far there has been no mention of Mr.
+Beresford. Where does he come in?”
+
+“Mr. Beresford?”
+
+“My partner,” said Tuppence with dignity. “You saw us together
+yesterday.”
+
+“Ah, yes. But I’m afraid we shan’t require his services.”
+
+“Then it’s off!” Tuppence rose. “It’s both or neither. Sorry--but that’s
+how it is. Good morning, Mr. Whittington.”
+
+“Wait a minute. Let us see if something can’t be managed. Sit down
+again, Miss----” He paused interrogatively.
+
+Tuppence’s conscience gave her a passing twinge as she remembered the
+archdeacon. She seized hurriedly on the first name that came into her
+head.
+
+“Jane Finn,” she said hastily; and then paused open-mouthed at the
+effect of those two simple words.
+
+All the geniality had faded out of Whittington’s face. It was purple
+with rage, and the veins stood out on the forehead. And behind it all
+there lurked a sort of incredulous dismay. He leaned forward and hissed
+savagely:
+
+“So that’s your little game, is it?”
+
+Tuppence, though utterly taken aback, nevertheless kept her head. She
+had not the faintest comprehension of his meaning, but she was naturally
+quick-witted, and felt it imperative to “keep her end up” as she phrased
+it.
+
+Whittington went on:
+
+“Been playing with me, have you, all the time, like a cat and mouse?
+Knew all the time what I wanted you for, but kept up the comedy. Is that
+it, eh?” He was cooling down. The red colour was ebbing out of his face.
+He eyed her keenly. “Who’s been blabbing? Rita?”
+
+Tuppence shook her head. She was doubtful as to how long she could
+sustain this illusion, but she realized the importance of not dragging
+an unknown Rita into it.
+
+“No,” she replied with perfect truth. “Rita knows nothing about me.”
+
+His eyes still bored into her like gimlets.
+
+“How much do you know?” he shot out.
+
+“Very little indeed,” answered Tuppence, and was pleased to note that
+Whittington’s uneasiness was augmented instead of allayed. To have
+boasted that she knew a lot might have raised doubts in his mind.
+
+“Anyway,” snarled Whittington, “you knew enough to come in here and
+plump out that name.”
+
+“It might be my own name,” Tuppence pointed out.
+
+“It’s likely, isn’t it, then there would be two girls with a name like
+that?”
+
+“Or I might just have hit upon it by chance,” continued Tuppence,
+intoxicated with the success of truthfulness.
+
+Mr. Whittington brought his fist down upon the desk with a bang.
+
+“Quit fooling! How much do you know? And how much do you want?”
+
+The last five words took Tuppence’s fancy mightily, especially after a
+meagre breakfast and a supper of buns the night before. Her present part
+was of the adventuress rather than the adventurous order, but she did
+not deny its possibilities. She sat up and smiled with the air of one
+who has the situation thoroughly well in hand.
+
+“My dear Mr. Whittington,” she said, “let us by all means lay our cards
+upon the table. And pray do not be so angry. You heard me say yesterday
+that I proposed to live by my wits. It seems to me that I have now
+proved I have some wits to live by! I admit I have knowledge of a
+certain name, but perhaps my knowledge ends there.”
+
+“Yes--and perhaps it doesn’t,” snarled Whittington.
+
+“You insist on misjudging me,” said Tuppence, and sighed gently.
+
+“As I said once before,” said Whittington angrily, “quit fooling, and
+come to the point. You can’t play the innocent with me. You know a great
+deal more than you’re willing to admit.”
+
+Tuppence paused a moment to admire her own ingenuity, and then said
+softly:
+
+“I shouldn’t like to contradict you, Mr. Whittington.”
+
+“So we come to the usual question--how much?”
+
+Tuppence was in a dilemma. So far she had fooled Whittington with
+complete success, but to mention a palpably impossible sum might awaken
+his suspicions. An idea flashed across her brain.
+
+“Suppose we say a little something down, and a fuller discussion of the
+matter later?”
+
+Whittington gave her an ugly glance.
+
+“Blackmail, eh?”
+
+Tuppence smiled sweetly.
+
+“Oh no! Shall we say payment of services in advance?”
+
+Whittington grunted.
+
+“You see,” explained Tuppence still sweetly, “I’m so very fond of
+money!”
+
+“You’re about the limit, that’s what you are,” growled Whittington, with
+a sort of unwilling admiration. “You took me in all right. Thought you
+were quite a meek little kid with just enough brains for my purpose.”
+
+“Life,” moralized Tuppence, “is full of surprises.”
+
+“All the same,” continued Whittington, “some one’s been talking. You say
+it isn’t Rita. Was it----? Oh, come in.”
+
+The clerk followed his discreet knock into the room, and laid a paper at
+his master’s elbow.
+
+“Telephone message just come for you, sir.”
+
+Whittington snatched it up and read it. A frown gathered on his brow.
+
+“That’ll do, Brown. You can go.”
+
+The clerk withdrew, closing the door behind him. Whittington turned to
+Tuppence.
+
+“Come to-morrow at the same time. I’m busy now. Here’s fifty to go on
+with.”
+
+He rapidly sorted out some notes, and pushed them across the table to
+Tuppence, then stood up, obviously impatient for her to go.
+
+The girl counted the notes in a businesslike manner, secured them in her
+handbag, and rose.
+
+“Good morning, Mr. Whittington,” she said politely. “At least, au
+revoir, I should say.”
+
+“Exactly. Au revoir!” Whittington looked almost genial again, a
+reversion that aroused in Tuppence a faint misgiving. “Au revoir, my
+clever and charming young lady.”
+
+Tuppence sped lightly down the stairs. A wild elation possessed her. A
+neighbouring clock showed the time to be five minutes to twelve.
+
+“Let’s give Tommy a surprise!” murmured Tuppence, and hailed a taxi.
+
+The cab drew up outside the tube station. Tommy was just within the
+entrance. His eyes opened to their fullest extent as he hurried forward
+to assist Tuppence to alight. She smiled at him affectionately, and
+remarked in a slightly affected voice:
+
+“Pay the thing, will you, old bean? I’ve got nothing smaller than a
+five-pound note!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. A SET BACK
+
+THE moment was not quite so triumphant as it ought to have been. To
+begin with, the resources of Tommy’s pockets were somewhat limited. In
+the end the fare was managed, the lady recollecting a plebeian twopence,
+and the driver, still holding the varied assortment of coins in his
+hand, was prevailed upon to move on, which he did after one last hoarse
+demand as to what the gentleman thought he was giving him?
+
+“I think you’ve given him too much, Tommy,” said Tuppence innocently. “I
+fancy he wants to give some of it back.”
+
+It was possibly this remark which induced the driver to move away.
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Beresford, at length able to relieve his feelings,
+“what the--dickens, did you want to take a taxi for?”
+
+“I was afraid I might be late and keep you waiting,” said Tuppence
+gently.
+
+“Afraid--you--might--be--late! Oh, Lord, I give it up!” said Mr.
+Beresford.
+
+“And really and truly,” continued Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide,
+“I haven’t got anything smaller than a five-pound note.”
+
+“You did that part of it very well, old bean, but all the same the
+fellow wasn’t taken in--not for a moment!”
+
+“No,” said Tuppence thoughtfully, “he didn’t believe it. That’s the
+curious part about speaking the truth. No one does believe it. I found
+that out this morning. Now let’s go to lunch. How about the _Savoy?_”
+
+Tommy grinned.
+
+“How about the _Ritz?_”
+
+“On second thoughts, I prefer the _Piccadilly_. It’s nearer. We shan’t
+have to take another taxi. Come along.”
+
+“Is this a new brand of humour? Or is your brain really unhinged?”
+ inquired Tommy.
+
+“Your last supposition is the correct one. I have come into money, and
+the shock has been too much for me! For that particular form of mental
+trouble an eminent physician recommends unlimited _Hors d’œuvre_,
+Lobster _à l’américane_, Chicken Newberg, and Pêche Melba! Let’s go
+and get them!”
+
+“Tuppence, old girl, what has really come over you?”
+
+“Oh, unbelieving one!” Tuppence wrenched open her bag. “Look here, and
+here, and here!”
+
+“Great Jehosaphat! My dear girl, don’t wave Fishers aloft like that!”
+
+“They’re not Fishers. They’re five times better than Fishers, and this
+one’s ten times better!”
+
+Tommy groaned.
+
+“I must have been drinking unawares! Am I dreaming, Tuppence, or do I
+really behold a large quantity of five-pound notes being waved about in
+a dangerous fashion?”
+
+“Even so, O King! _Now_, will you come and have lunch?”
+
+“I’ll come anywhere. But what have you been doing? Holding up a bank?”
+
+“All in good time. What an awful place Piccadilly Circus is. There’s a
+huge bus bearing down on us. It would be too terrible if they killed the
+five-pound notes!”
+
+“Grill room?” inquired Tommy, as they reached the opposite pavement in
+safety.
+
+“The other’s more expensive,” demurred Tuppence.
+
+“That’s mere wicked wanton extravagance. Come on below.”
+
+“Are you sure I can get all the things I want there?”
+
+“That extremely unwholesome menu you were outlining just now? Of course
+you can--or as much as is good for you, anyway.”
+
+“And now tell me,” said Tommy, unable to restrain his pent-up curiosity
+any longer, as they sat in state surrounded by the many _hors d’œuvre_
+of Tuppence’s dreams.
+
+Miss Cowley told him.
+
+“And the curious part of it is,” she ended, “that I really did invent
+the name of Jane Finn! I didn’t want to give my own because of poor
+father--in case I should get mixed up in anything shady.”
+
+“Perhaps that’s so,” said Tommy slowly. “But you didn’t invent it.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“No. _I_ told it to you. Don’t you remember, I said yesterday I’d
+overheard two people talking about a female called Jane Finn? That’s
+what brought the name into your mind so pat.”
+
+“So you did. I remember now. How extraordinary----” Tuppence tailed off
+into silence. Suddenly she aroused herself. “Tommy!”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+“What were they like, the two men you passed?”
+
+Tommy frowned in an effort at remembrance.
+
+“One was a big fat sort of chap. Clean shaven, I think--and dark.”
+
+“That’s him,” cried Tuppence, in an ungrammatical squeal. “That’s
+Whittington! What was the other man like?”
+
+“I can’t remember. I didn’t notice him particularly. It was really the
+outlandish name that caught my attention.”
+
+“And people say that coincidences don’t happen!” Tuppence tackled her
+Pêche Melba happily.
+
+But Tommy had become serious.
+
+“Look here, Tuppence, old girl, what is this going to lead to?”
+
+“More money,” replied his companion.
+
+“I know that. You’ve only got one idea in your head. What I mean is,
+what about the next step? How are you going to keep the game up?”
+
+“Oh!” Tuppence laid down her spoon. “You’re right, Tommy, it is a bit of
+a poser.”
+
+“After all, you know, you can’t bluff him forever. You’re sure to slip
+up sooner or later. And, anyway, I’m not at all sure that it isn’t
+actionable--blackmail, you know.”
+
+“Nonsense. Blackmail is saying you’ll tell unless you are given
+money. Now, there’s nothing I could tell, because I don’t really know
+anything.”
+
+“Hm,” said Tommy doubtfully. “Well, anyway, what _are_ we going to do?
+Whittington was in a hurry to get rid of you this morning, but next time
+he’ll want to know something more before he parts with his money. He’ll
+want to know how much _you_ know, and where you got your information
+from, and a lot of other things that you can’t cope with. What are you
+going to do about it?”
+
+Tuppence frowned severely.
+
+“We must think. Order some Turkish coffee, Tommy. Stimulating to the
+brain. Oh, dear, what a lot I have eaten!”
+
+“You have made rather a hog of yourself! So have I for that matter, but
+I flatter myself that my choice of dishes was more judicious than yours.
+Two coffees.” (This was to the waiter.) “One Turkish, one French.”
+
+Tuppence sipped her coffee with a deeply reflective air, and snubbed
+Tommy when he spoke to her.
+
+“Be quiet. I’m thinking.”
+
+“Shades of Pelmanism!” said Tommy, and relapsed into silence.
+
+“There!” said Tuppence at last. “I’ve got a plan. Obviously what we’ve
+got to do is to find out more about it all.”
+
+Tommy applauded.
+
+“Don’t jeer. We can only find out through Whittington. We must discover
+where he lives, what he does--sleuth him, in fact! Now I can’t do it,
+because he knows me, but he only saw you for a minute or two in Lyons’.
+He’s not likely to recognize you. After all, one young man is much like
+another.”
+
+“I repudiate that remark utterly. I’m sure my pleasing features and
+distinguished appearance would single me out from any crowd.”
+
+“My plan is this,” Tuppence went on calmly, “I’ll go alone to-morrow.
+I’ll put him off again like I did to-day. It doesn’t matter if I don’t
+get any more money at once. Fifty pounds ought to last us a few days.”
+
+“Or even longer!”
+
+“You’ll hang about outside. When I come out I shan’t speak to you in
+case he’s watching. But I’ll take up my stand somewhere near, and when
+he comes out of the building I’ll drop a handkerchief or something, and
+off you go!”
+
+“Off I go where?”
+
+“Follow him, of course, silly! What do you think of the idea?”
+
+“Sort of thing one reads about in books. I somehow feel that in real
+life one will feel a bit of an ass standing in the street for hours with
+nothing to do. People will wonder what I’m up to.”
+
+“Not in the city. Every one’s in such a hurry. Probably no one will even
+notice you at all.”
+
+“That’s the second time you’ve made that sort of remark. Never mind, I
+forgive you. Anyway, it will be rather a lark. What are you doing this
+afternoon?”
+
+“Well,” said Tuppence meditatively. “I _had_ thought of hats! Or perhaps
+silk stockings! Or perhaps----”
+
+“Hold hard,” admonished Tommy. “There’s a limit to fifty pounds! But
+let’s do dinner and a show to-night at all events.”
+
+“Rather.”
+
+The day passed pleasantly. The evening even more so. Two of the
+five-pound notes were now irretrievably dead.
+
+They met by arrangement the following morning and proceeded citywards.
+Tommy remained on the opposite side of the road while Tuppence plunged
+into the building.
+
+Tommy strolled slowly down to the end of the street, then back again.
+Just as he came abreast of the building, Tuppence darted across the
+road.
+
+“Tommy!”
+
+“Yes. What’s up?”
+
+“The place is shut. I can’t make anyone hear.”
+
+“That’s odd.”
+
+“Isn’t it? Come up with me, and let’s try again.”
+
+Tommy followed her. As they passed the third floor landing a young clerk
+came out of an office. He hesitated a moment, then addressed himself to
+Tuppence.
+
+“Were you wanting the Esthonia Glassware?”
+
+“Yes, please.”
+
+“It’s closed down. Since yesterday afternoon. Company being wound up,
+they say. Not that I’ve ever heard of it myself. But anyway the office
+is to let.”
+
+“Th--thank you,” faltered Tuppence. “I suppose you don’t know Mr.
+Whittington’s address?”
+
+“Afraid I don’t. They left rather suddenly.”
+
+“Thank you very much,” said Tommy. “Come on, Tuppence.”
+
+They descended to the street again where they gazed at one another
+blankly.
+
+“That’s torn it,” said Tommy at length.
+
+“And I never suspected it,” wailed Tuppence.
+
+“Cheer up, old thing, it can’t be helped.”
+
+“Can’t it, though!” Tuppence’s little chin shot out defiantly. “Do you
+think this is the end? If so, you’re wrong. It’s just the beginning!”
+
+“The beginning of what?”
+
+“Of our adventure! Tommy, don’t you see, if they are scared enough to
+run away like this, it shows that there must be a lot in this Jane Finn
+business! Well, we’ll get to the bottom of it. We’ll run them down!
+We’ll be sleuths in earnest!”
+
+“Yes, but there’s no one left to sleuth.”
+
+“No, that’s why we’ll have to start all over again. Lend me that bit of
+pencil. Thanks. Wait a minute--don’t interrupt. There!” Tuppence handed
+back the pencil, and surveyed the piece of paper on which she had
+written with a satisfied eye:
+
+“What’s that?”
+
+“Advertisement.”
+
+“You’re not going to put that thing in after all?”
+
+“No, it’s a different one.” She handed him the slip of paper.
+
+Tommy read the words on it aloud:
+
+“WANTED, any information respecting Jane Finn. Apply Y. A.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. WHO IS JANE FINN?
+
+THE next day passed slowly. It was necessary to curtail expenditure.
+Carefully husbanded, forty pounds will last a long time. Luckily the
+weather was fine, and “walking is cheap,” dictated Tuppence. An outlying
+picture house provided them with recreation for the evening.
+
+The day of disillusionment had been a Wednesday. On Thursday the
+advertisement had duly appeared. On Friday letters might be expected to
+arrive at Tommy’s rooms.
+
+He had been bound by an honourable promise not to open any such letters
+if they did arrive, but to repair to the National Gallery, where his
+colleague would meet him at ten o’clock.
+
+Tuppence was first at the rendezvous. She ensconced herself on a red
+velvet seat, and gazed at the Turners with unseeing eyes until she saw
+the familiar figure enter the room.
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well,” returned Mr. Beresford provokingly. “Which is your favourite
+picture?”
+
+“Don’t be a wretch. Aren’t there _any_ answers?”
+
+Tommy shook his head with a deep and somewhat overacted melancholy.
+
+“I didn’t want to disappoint you, old thing, by telling you right off.
+It’s too bad. Good money wasted.” He sighed. “Still, there it is. The
+advertisement has appeared, and--there are only two answers!”
+
+“Tommy, you devil!” almost screamed Tuppence. “Give them to me. How
+could you be so mean!”
+
+“Your language, Tuppence, your language! They’re very particular at the
+National Gallery. Government show, you know. And do remember, as I have
+pointed out to you before, that as a clergyman’s daughter----”
+
+“I ought to be on the stage!” finished Tuppence with a snap.
+
+“That is not what I intended to say. But if you are sure that you have
+enjoyed to the full the reaction of joy after despair with which I have
+kindly provided you free of charge, let us get down to our mail, as the
+saying goes.”
+
+Tuppence snatched the two precious envelopes from him unceremoniously,
+and scrutinized them carefully.
+
+“Thick paper, this one. It looks rich. We’ll keep it to the last and
+open the other first.”
+
+“Right you are. One, two, three, go!”
+
+Tuppence’s little thumb ripped open the envelope, and she extracted the
+contents.
+
+“DEAR SIR,
+
+“Referring to your advertisement in this morning’s paper, I may be able
+to be of some use to you. Perhaps you could call and see me at the above
+address at eleven o’clock to-morrow morning.
+
+“Yours truly,
+
+“A. CARTER.”
+
+“27 Carshalton Gardens,” said Tuppence, referring to the address.
+“That’s Gloucester Road way. Plenty of time to get there if we tube.”
+
+“The following,” said Tommy, “is the plan of campaign. It is my turn to
+assume the offensive. Ushered into the presence of Mr. Carter, he and I
+wish each other good morning as is customary. He then says: ‘Please take
+a seat, Mr.--er?’ To which I reply promptly and significantly: ‘Edward
+Whittington!’ whereupon Mr. Carter turns purple in the face and gasps
+out: ‘How much?’ Pocketing the usual fee of fifty pounds, I rejoin you
+in the road outside, and we proceed to the next address and repeat the
+performance.”
+
+“Don’t be absurd, Tommy. Now for the other letter. Oh, this is from the
+_Ritz!_”
+
+“A hundred pounds instead of fifty!”
+
+“I’ll read it:
+
+“DEAR SIR,
+
+“Re your advertisement, I should be glad if you would call round
+somewhere about lunch-time.
+
+“Yours truly,
+
+“JULIUS P. HERSHEIMMER.”
+
+“Ha!” said Tommy. “Do I smell a Boche? Or only an American millionaire
+of unfortunate ancestry? At all events we’ll call at lunch-time. It’s a
+good time--frequently leads to free food for two.”
+
+Tuppence nodded assent.
+
+“Now for Carter. We’ll have to hurry.”
+
+Carshalton Terrace proved to be an unimpeachable row of what Tuppence
+called “ladylike looking houses.” They rang the bell at No. 27, and a
+neat maid answered the door. She looked so respectable that Tuppence’s
+heart sank. Upon Tommy’s request for Mr. Carter, she showed them into
+a small study on the ground floor where she left them. Hardly a minute
+elapsed, however, before the door opened, and a tall man with a lean
+hawklike face and a tired manner entered the room.
+
+“Mr. Y. A.?” he said, and smiled. His smile was distinctly attractive.
+“Do sit down, both of you.”
+
+They obeyed. He himself took a chair opposite to Tuppence and smiled at
+her encouragingly. There was something in the quality of his smile that
+made the girl’s usual readiness desert her.
+
+As he did not seem inclined to open the conversation, Tuppence was
+forced to begin.
+
+“We wanted to know--that is, would you be so kind as to tell us anything
+you know about Jane Finn?”
+
+“Jane Finn? Ah!” Mr. Carter appeared to reflect. “Well, the question is,
+what do _you_ know about her?”
+
+Tuppence drew herself up.
+
+“I don’t see that that’s got anything to do with it.”
+
+“No? But it has, you know, really it has.” He smiled again in his tired
+way, and continued reflectively. “So that brings us down to it again.
+What do _you_ know about Jane Finn?
+
+“Come now,” he continued, as Tuppence remained silent. “You must know
+_something_ to have advertised as you did?” He leaned forward a little,
+his weary voice held a hint of persuasiveness. “Suppose you tell me....”
+
+There was something very magnetic about Mr. Carter’s personality.
+Tuppence seemed to shake herself free of it with an effort, as she said:
+
+“We couldn’t do that, could we, Tommy?”
+
+But to her surprise, her companion did not back her up. His eyes were
+fixed on Mr. Carter, and his tone when he spoke held an unusual note of
+deference.
+
+“I dare say the little we know won’t be any good to you, sir. But such
+as it is, you’re welcome to it.”
+
+“Tommy!” cried out Tuppence in surprise.
+
+Mr. Carter slewed round in his chair. His eyes asked a question.
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“Yes, sir, I recognized you at once. Saw you in France when I was with
+the Intelligence. As soon as you came into the room, I knew----”
+
+Mr. Carter held up his hand.
+
+“No names, please. I’m known as Mr. Carter here. It’s my cousin’s house,
+by the way. She’s willing to lend it to me sometimes when it’s a case of
+working on strictly unofficial lines. Well, now”--he looked from one to
+the other--“who’s going to tell me the story?”
+
+“Fire ahead, Tuppence,” directed Tommy. “It’s your yarn.”
+
+“Yes, little lady, out with it.”
+
+And obediently Tuppence did out with it, telling the whole story from
+the forming of the Young Adventurers, Ltd., downwards.
+
+Mr. Carter listened in silence with a resumption of his tired manner.
+Now and then he passed his hand across his lips as though to hide a
+smile. When she had finished he nodded gravely.
+
+“Not much. But suggestive. Quite suggestive. If you’ll excuse my saying
+so, you’re a curious young couple. I don’t know--you might succeed where
+others have failed ... I believe in luck, you know--always have....”
+
+He paused a moment, and then went on.
+
+“Well, how about it? You’re out for adventure. How would you like
+to work for me? All quite unofficial, you know. Expenses paid, and a
+moderate screw?”
+
+Tuppence gazed at him, her lips parted, her eyes growing wider and
+wider.
+
+“What should we have to do?” she breathed.
+
+Mr. Carter smiled.
+
+“Just go on with what you’re doing now. _Find Jane Finn_.”
+
+“Yes, but--who _is_ Jane Finn?”
+
+Mr. Carter nodded gravely.
+
+“Yes, you’re entitled to know that, I think.”
+
+He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, brought the tips of his
+fingers together, and began in a low monotone:
+
+“Secret diplomacy (which, by the way, is nearly always bad policy!) does
+not concern you. It will be sufficient to say that in the early days of
+1915 a certain document came into being. It was the draft of a secret
+agreement--treaty--call it what you like. It was drawn up ready for
+signature by the various representatives, and drawn up in America--at
+that time a neutral country. It was dispatched to England by a special
+messenger selected for that purpose, a young fellow called Danvers. It
+was hoped that the whole affair had been kept so secret that nothing
+would have leaked out. That kind of hope is usually disappointed.
+Somebody always talks!
+
+“Danvers sailed for England on the _Lusitania_. He carried the precious
+papers in an oilskin packet which he wore next his skin. It was on that
+particular voyage that the _Lusitania_ was torpedoed and sunk. Danvers
+was among the list of those missing. Eventually his body was washed
+ashore, and identified beyond any possible doubt. But the oilskin packet
+was missing!
+
+“The question was, had it been taken from him, or had he himself
+passed it on into another’s keeping? There were a few incidents that
+strengthened the possibility of the latter theory. After the torpedo
+struck the ship, in the few moments during the launching of the boats,
+Danvers was seen speaking to a young American girl. No one actually
+saw him pass anything to her, but he might have done so. It seems to me
+quite likely that he entrusted the papers to this girl, believing that
+she, as a woman, had a greater chance of bringing them safely to shore.
+
+“But if so, where was the girl, and what had she done with the papers?
+By later advice from America it seemed likely that Danvers had been
+closely shadowed on the way over. Was this girl in league with his
+enemies? Or had she, in her turn, been shadowed and either tricked or
+forced into handing over the precious packet?
+
+“We set to work to trace her out. It proved unexpectedly difficult.
+Her name was Jane Finn, and it duly appeared among the list of the
+survivors, but the girl herself seemed to have vanished completely.
+Inquiries into her antecedents did little to help us. She was an orphan,
+and had been what we should call over here a pupil teacher in a small
+school out West. Her passport had been made out for Paris, where she
+was going to join the staff of a hospital. She had offered her services
+voluntarily, and after some correspondence they had been accepted.
+Having seen her name in the list of the saved from the _Lusitania_, the
+staff of the hospital were naturally very surprised at her not arriving
+to take up her billet, and at not hearing from her in any way.
+
+“Well, every effort was made to trace the young lady--but all in vain.
+We tracked her across Ireland, but nothing could be heard of her after
+she set foot in England. No use was made of the draft treaty--as might
+very easily have been done--and we therefore came to the conclusion that
+Danvers had, after all, destroyed it. The war entered on another phase,
+the diplomatic aspect changed accordingly, and the treaty was never
+redrafted. Rumours as to its existence were emphatically denied. The
+disappearance of Jane Finn was forgotten and the whole affair was lost
+in oblivion.”
+
+Mr. Carter paused, and Tuppence broke in impatiently:
+
+“But why has it all cropped up again? The war’s over.”
+
+A hint of alertness came into Mr. Carter’s manner.
+
+“Because it seems that the papers were not destroyed after all, and that
+they might be resurrected to-day with a new and deadly significance.”
+
+Tuppence stared. Mr. Carter nodded.
+
+“Yes, five years ago, that draft treaty was a weapon in our hands;
+to-day it is a weapon against us. It was a gigantic blunder. If its
+terms were made public, it would mean disaster.... It might possibly
+bring about another war--not with Germany this time! That is an extreme
+possibility, and I do not believe in its likelihood myself, but that
+document undoubtedly implicates a number of our statesmen whom we cannot
+afford to have discredited in any way at the present moment. As a party
+cry for Labour it would be irresistible, and a Labour Government at this
+juncture would, in my opinion, be a grave disability for British trade,
+but that is a mere nothing to the _real_ danger.”
+
+He paused, and then said quietly:
+
+“You may perhaps have heard or read that there is Bolshevist influence
+at work behind the present Labour unrest?”
+
+Tuppence nodded.
+
+“That is the truth. Bolshevist gold is pouring into this country for the
+specific purpose of procuring a Revolution. And there is a certain man,
+a man whose real name is unknown to us, who is working in the dark for
+his own ends. The Bolshevists are behind the Labour unrest--but this
+man is _behind the Bolshevists_. Who is he? We do not know. He is always
+spoken of by the unassuming title of ‘Mr. Brown.’ But one thing is
+certain, he is the master criminal of this age. He controls a marvellous
+organization. Most of the Peace propaganda during the war was originated
+and financed by him. His spies are everywhere.”
+
+“A naturalized German?” asked Tommy.
+
+“On the contrary, I have every reason to believe he is an Englishman. He
+was pro-German, as he would have been pro-Boer. What he seeks to attain
+we do not know--probably supreme power for himself, of a kind unique in
+history. We have no clue as to his real personality. It is reported that
+even his own followers are ignorant of it. Where we have come across his
+tracks, he has always played a secondary part. Somebody else assumes
+the chief rôle. But afterwards we always find that there has been some
+nonentity, a servant or a clerk, who has remained in the background
+unnoticed, and that the elusive Mr. Brown has escaped us once more.”
+
+“Oh!” Tuppence jumped. “I wonder----”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+“I remember in Mr. Whittington’s office. The clerk--he called him Brown.
+You don’t think----”
+
+Carter nodded thoughtfully.
+
+“Very likely. A curious point is that the name is usually mentioned. An
+idiosyncrasy of genius. Can you describe him at all?”
+
+“I really didn’t notice. He was quite ordinary--just like anyone else.”
+
+Mr. Carter sighed in his tired manner.
+
+“That is the invariable description of Mr. Brown! Brought a telephone
+message to the man Whittington, did he? Notice a telephone in the outer
+office?”
+
+Tuppence thought.
+
+“No, I don’t think I did.”
+
+“Exactly. That ‘message’ was Mr. Brown’s way of giving an order to his
+subordinate. He overheard the whole conversation of course. Was it after
+that that Whittington handed you over the money, and told you to come
+the following day?”
+
+Tuppence nodded.
+
+“Yes, undoubtedly the hand of Mr. Brown!” Mr. Carter paused. “Well,
+there it is, you see what you are pitting yourselves against? Possibly
+the finest criminal brain of the age. I don’t quite like it, you know.
+You’re such young things, both of you. I shouldn’t like anything to
+happen to you.”
+
+“It won’t,” Tuppence assured him positively.
+
+“I’ll look after her, sir,” said Tommy.
+
+“And _I_‘ll look after _you_,” retorted Tuppence, resenting the manly
+assertion.
+
+“Well, then, look after each other,” said Mr. Carter, smiling. “Now
+let’s get back to business. There’s something mysterious about this
+draft treaty that we haven’t fathomed yet. We’ve been threatened with
+it--in plain and unmistakable terms. The Revolutionary element as good
+as declare that it’s in their hands, and that they intend to produce it
+at a given moment. On the other hand, they are clearly at fault about
+many of its provisions. The Government consider it as mere bluff
+on their part, and, rightly or wrongly, have stuck to the policy of
+absolute denial. I’m not so sure. There have been hints, indiscreet
+allusions, that seem to indicate that the menace is a real one. The
+position is much as though they had got hold of an incriminating
+document, but couldn’t read it because it was in cipher--but we know
+that the draft treaty wasn’t in cipher--couldn’t be in the nature of
+things--so that won’t wash. But there’s _something_. Of course, Jane
+Finn may be dead for all we know--but I don’t think so. The curious
+thing is that _they’re trying to get information about the girl from
+us_.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Yes. One or two little things have cropped up. And your story, little
+lady, confirms my idea. They know we’re looking for Jane Finn. Well,
+they’ll produce a Jane Finn of their own--say at a _pensionnat_ in
+Paris.” Tuppence gasped, and Mr. Carter smiled. “No one knows in the
+least what she looks like, so that’s all right. She’s primed with a
+trumped-up tale, and her real business is to get as much information as
+possible out of us. See the idea?”
+
+“Then you think”--Tuppence paused to grasp the supposition fully--“that
+it _was_ as Jane Finn that they wanted me to go to Paris?”
+
+Mr. Carter smiled more wearily than ever.
+
+“I believe in coincidences, you know,” he said.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. MR. JULIUS P. HERSHEIMMER
+
+“WELL,” said Tuppence, recovering herself, “it really seems as though it
+were meant to be.”
+
+Carter nodded.
+
+“I know what you mean. I’m superstitious myself. Luck, and all that sort
+of thing. Fate seems to have chosen you out to be mixed up in this.”
+
+Tommy indulged in a chuckle.
+
+“My word! I don’t wonder Whittington got the wind up when Tuppence
+plumped out that name! I should have myself. But look here, sir, we’re
+taking up an awful lot of your time. Have you any tips to give us before
+we clear out?”
+
+“I think not. My experts, working in stereotyped ways, have failed.
+You will bring imagination and an open mind to the task. Don’t be
+discouraged if that too does not succeed. For one thing there is a
+likelihood of the pace being forced.”
+
+Tuppence frowned uncomprehendingly.
+
+“When you had that interview with Whittington, they had time before
+them. I have information that the big _coup_ was planned for early in
+the new year. But the Government is contemplating legislative action
+which will deal effectually with the strike menace. They’ll get wind of
+it soon, if they haven’t already, and it’s possible that that may bring
+things to a head. I hope it will myself. The less time they have to
+mature their plans the better. I’m just warning you that you haven’t
+much time before you, and that you needn’t be cast down if you fail.
+It’s not an easy proposition anyway. That’s all.”
+
+Tuppence rose.
+
+“I think we ought to be businesslike. What exactly can we count upon you
+for, Mr. Carter?” Mr. Carter’s lips twitched slightly, but he replied
+succinctly: “Funds within reason, detailed information on any point,
+and _no official recognition_. I mean that if you get yourselves into
+trouble with the police, I can’t officially help you out of it. You’re
+on your own.”
+
+Tuppence nodded sagely.
+
+“I quite understand that. I’ll write out a list of the things I want to
+know when I’ve had time to think. Now--about money----”
+
+“Yes, Miss Tuppence. Do you want to say how much?”
+
+“Not exactly. We’ve got plenty to go with for the present, but when we
+want more----”
+
+“It will be waiting for you.”
+
+“Yes, but--I’m sure I don’t want to be rude about the Government if
+you’ve got anything to do with it, but you know one really has the devil
+of a time getting anything out of it! And if we have to fill up a blue
+form and send it in, and then, after three months, they send us a green
+one, and so on--well, that won’t be much use, will it?”
+
+Mr. Carter laughed outright.
+
+“Don’t worry, Miss Tuppence. You will send a personal demand to me here,
+and the money, in notes, shall be sent by return of post. As to salary,
+shall we say at the rate of three hundred a year? And an equal sum for
+Mr. Beresford, of course.”
+
+Tuppence beamed upon him.
+
+“How lovely. You are kind. I do love money! I’ll keep beautiful accounts
+of our expenses all debit and credit, and the balance on the right side,
+and red line drawn sideways with the totals the same at the bottom. I
+really know how to do it when I think.”
+
+“I’m sure you do. Well, good-bye, and good luck to you both.”
+
+He shook hands with them, and in another minute they were descending the
+steps of 27 Carshalton Terrace with their heads in a whirl.
+
+“Tommy! Tell me at once, who is ‘Mr. Carter’?”
+
+Tommy murmured a name in her ear.
+
+“Oh!” said Tuppence, impressed.
+
+“And I can tell you, old bean, he’s IT!”
+
+“Oh!” said Tuppence again. Then she added reflectively,
+
+“I like him, don’t you? He looks so awfully tired and bored, and yet you
+feel that underneath he’s just like steel, all keen and flashing. Oh!”
+ She gave a skip. “Pinch me, Tommy, do pinch me. I can’t believe it’s
+real!”
+
+Mr. Beresford obliged.
+
+“Ow! That’s enough! Yes, we’re not dreaming. We’ve got a job!”
+
+“And what a job! The joint venture has really begun.”
+
+“It’s more respectable than I thought it would be,” said Tuppence
+thoughtfully.
+
+“Luckily I haven’t got your craving for crime! What time is it? Let’s
+have lunch--oh!”
+
+The same thought sprang to the minds of each. Tommy voiced it first.
+
+“Julius P. Hersheimmer!”
+
+“We never told Mr. Carter about hearing from him.”
+
+“Well, there wasn’t much to tell--not till we’ve seen him. Come on, we’d
+better take a taxi.”
+
+“Now who’s being extravagant?”
+
+“All expenses paid, remember. Hop in.”
+
+“At any rate, we shall make a better effect arriving this way,” said
+Tuppence, leaning back luxuriously. “I’m sure blackmailers never arrive
+in buses!”
+
+“We’ve ceased being blackmailers,” Tommy pointed out.
+
+“I’m not sure I have,” said Tuppence darkly.
+
+On inquiring for Mr. Hersheimmer, they were at once taken up to his
+suite. An impatient voice cried “Come in” in answer to the page-boy’s
+knock, and the lad stood aside to let them pass in.
+
+Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer was a great deal younger than either Tommy or
+Tuppence had pictured him. The girl put him down as thirty-five. He
+was of middle height, and squarely built to match his jaw. His face was
+pugnacious but pleasant. No one could have mistaken him for anything but
+an American, though he spoke with very little accent.
+
+“Get my note? Sit down and tell me right away all you know about my
+cousin.”
+
+“Your cousin?”
+
+“Sure thing. Jane Finn.”
+
+“Is she your cousin?”
+
+“My father and her mother were brother and sister,” explained Mr.
+Hersheimmer meticulously.
+
+“Oh!” cried Tuppence. “Then you know where she is?”
+
+“No!” Mr. Hersheimmer brought down his fist with a bang on the table.
+“I’m darned if I do! Don’t you?”
+
+“We advertised to receive information, not to give it,” said Tuppence
+severely.
+
+“I guess I know that. I can read. But I thought maybe it was her back
+history you were after, and that you’d know where she was now?”
+
+“Well, we wouldn’t mind hearing her back history,” said Tuppence
+guardedly.
+
+But Mr. Hersheimmer seemed to grow suddenly suspicious.
+
+“See here,” he declared. “This isn’t Sicily! No demanding ransom or
+threatening to crop her ears if I refuse. These are the British Isles,
+so quit the funny business, or I’ll just sing out for that beautiful big
+British policeman I see out there in Piccadilly.”
+
+Tommy hastened to explain.
+
+“We haven’t kidnapped your cousin. On the contrary, we’re trying to find
+her. We’re employed to do so.”
+
+Mr. Hersheimmer leant back in his chair.
+
+“Put me wise,” he said succinctly.
+
+Tommy fell in with this demand in so far as he gave him a guarded
+version of the disappearance of Jane Finn, and of the possibility of her
+having been mixed up unawares in “some political show.” He alluded to
+Tuppence and himself as “private inquiry agents” commissioned to find
+her, and added that they would therefore be glad of any details Mr.
+Hersheimmer could give them.
+
+That gentleman nodded approval.
+
+“I guess that’s all right. I was just a mite hasty. But London gets my
+goat! I only know little old New York. Just trot out your questions and
+I’ll answer.”
+
+For the moment this paralysed the Young Adventurers, but Tuppence,
+recovering herself, plunged boldly into the breach with a reminiscence
+culled from detective fiction.
+
+“When did you last see the dece--your cousin, I mean?”
+
+“Never seen her,” responded Mr. Hersheimmer.
+
+“What?” demanded Tommy, astonished.
+
+Hersheimmer turned to him.
+
+“No, sir. As I said before, my father and her mother were brother and
+sister, just as you might be”--Tommy did not correct this view of their
+relationship--“but they didn’t always get on together. And when my aunt
+made up her mind to marry Amos Finn, who was a poor school teacher out
+West, my father was just mad! Said if he made his pile, as he seemed
+in a fair way to do, she’d never see a cent of it. Well, the upshot was
+that Aunt Jane went out West and we never heard from her again.
+
+“The old man _did_ pile it up. He went into oil, and he went into steel,
+and he played a bit with railroads, and I can tell you he made Wall
+Street sit up!” He paused. “Then he died--last fall--and I got the
+dollars. Well, would you believe it, my conscience got busy! Kept
+knocking me up and saying: What about your Aunt Jane, way out West? It
+worried me some. You see, I figured it out that Amos Finn would never
+make good. He wasn’t the sort. End of it was, I hired a man to hunt her
+down. Result, she was dead, and Amos Finn was dead, but they’d left a
+daughter--Jane--who’d been torpedoed in the _Lusitania_ on her way to
+Paris. She was saved all right, but they didn’t seem able to hear of her
+over this side. I guessed they weren’t hustling any, so I thought I’d
+come along over, and speed things up. I phoned Scotland Yard and the
+Admiralty first thing. The Admiralty rather choked me off, but Scotland
+Yard were very civil--said they would make inquiries, even sent a man
+round this morning to get her photograph. I’m off to Paris to-morrow,
+just to see what the Prefecture is doing. I guess if I go to and fro
+hustling them, they ought to get busy!”
+
+The energy of Mr. Hersheimmer was tremendous. They bowed before it.
+
+“But say now,” he ended, “you’re not after her for anything? Contempt of
+court, or something British? A proud-spirited young American girl might
+find your rules and regulations in war time rather irksome, and get up
+against it. If that’s the case, and there’s such a thing as graft in
+this country, I’ll buy her off.”
+
+Tuppence reassured him.
+
+“That’s good. Then we can work together. What about some lunch? Shall we
+have it up here, or go down to the restaurant?”
+
+Tuppence expressed a preference for the latter, and Julius bowed to her
+decision.
+
+Oysters had just given place to Sole Colbert when a card was brought to
+Hersheimmer.
+
+“Inspector Japp, C.I.D. Scotland Yard again. Another man this time. What
+does he expect I can tell him that I didn’t tell the first chap? I hope
+they haven’t lost that photograph. That Western photographer’s place was
+burned down and all his negatives destroyed--this is the only copy in
+existence. I got it from the principal of the college there.”
+
+An unformulated dread swept over Tuppence.
+
+“You--you don’t know the name of the man who came this morning?”
+
+“Yes, I do. No, I don’t. Half a second. It was on his card. Oh, I know!
+Inspector Brown. Quiet, unassuming sort of chap.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A PLAN OF CAMPAIGN
+
+A veil might with profit be drawn over the events of the next half-hour.
+Suffice it to say that no such person as “Inspector Brown” was known to
+Scotland Yard. The photograph of Jane Finn, which would have been of
+the utmost value to the police in tracing her, was lost beyond recovery.
+Once again “Mr. Brown” had triumphed.
+
+The immediate result of this set-back was to effect a _rapprochement_
+between Julius Hersheimmer and the Young Adventurers. All barriers went
+down with a crash, and Tommy and Tuppence felt they had known the young
+American all their lives. They abandoned the discreet reticence of
+“private inquiry agents,” and revealed to him the whole history of
+the joint venture, whereat the young man declared himself “tickled to
+death.”
+
+He turned to Tuppence at the close of the narration.
+
+“I’ve always had a kind of idea that English girls were just a mite
+moss-grown. Old-fashioned and sweet, you know, but scared to move round
+without a footman or a maiden aunt. I guess I’m a bit behind the times!”
+
+The upshot of these confidential relations was that Tommy and Tuppence
+took up their abode forthwith at the _Ritz_, in order, as Tuppence put
+it, to keep in touch with Jane Finn’s only living relation. “And put
+like that,” she added confidentially to Tommy, “nobody could boggle at
+the expense!”
+
+Nobody did, which was the great thing.
+
+“And now,” said the young lady on the morning after their installation,
+“to work!”
+
+Mr. Beresford put down the _Daily Mail_, which he was reading, and
+applauded with somewhat unnecessary vigour. He was politely requested by
+his colleague not to be an ass.
+
+“Dash it all, Tommy, we’ve got to _do_ something for our money.”
+
+Tommy sighed.
+
+“Yes, I fear even the dear old Government will not support us at the
+_Ritz_ in idleness for ever.”
+
+“Therefore, as I said before, we must _do_ something.”
+
+“Well,” said Tommy, picking up the _Daily Mail_ again, “_do_ it. I
+shan’t stop you.”
+
+“You see,” continued Tuppence. “I’ve been thinking----”
+
+She was interrupted by a fresh bout of applause.
+
+“It’s all very well for you to sit there being funny, Tommy. It would do
+you no harm to do a little brain work too.”
+
+“My union, Tuppence, my union! It does not permit me to work before 11
+a.m.”
+
+“Tommy, do you want something thrown at you? It is absolutely essential
+that we should without delay map out a plan of campaign.”
+
+“Hear, hear!”
+
+“Well, let’s do it.”
+
+Tommy laid his paper finally aside. “There’s something of the simplicity
+of the truly great mind about you, Tuppence. Fire ahead. I’m listening.”
+
+“To begin with,” said Tuppence, “what have we to go upon?”
+
+“Absolutely nothing,” said Tommy cheerily.
+
+“Wrong!” Tuppence wagged an energetic finger. “We have two distinct
+clues.”
+
+“What are they?”
+
+“First clue, we know one of the gang.”
+
+“Whittington?”
+
+“Yes. I’d recognize him anywhere.”
+
+“Hum,” said Tommy doubtfully, “I don’t call that much of a clue. You
+don’t know where to look for him, and it’s about a thousand to one
+against your running against him by accident.”
+
+“I’m not so sure about that,” replied Tuppence thoughtfully. “I’ve often
+noticed that once coincidences start happening they go on happening in
+the most extraordinary way. I dare say it’s some natural law that we
+haven’t found out. Still, as you say, we can’t rely on that. But there
+_are_ places in London where simply every one is bound to turn up sooner
+or later. Piccadilly Circus, for instance. One of my ideas was to take
+up my stand there every day with a tray of flags.”
+
+“What about meals?” inquired the practical Tommy.
+
+“How like a man! What does mere food matter?”
+
+“That’s all very well. You’ve just had a thundering good breakfast. No
+one’s got a better appetite than you have, Tuppence, and by tea-time
+you’d be eating the flags, pins and all. But, honestly, I don’t think
+much of the idea. Whittington mayn’t be in London at all.”
+
+“That’s true. Anyway, I think clue No. 2 is more promising.”
+
+“Let’s hear it.”
+
+“It’s nothing much. Only a Christian name--Rita. Whittington mentioned
+it that day.”
+
+“Are you proposing a third advertisement: Wanted, female crook,
+answering to the name of Rita?”
+
+“I am not. I propose to reason in a logical manner. That man, Danvers,
+was shadowed on the way over, wasn’t he? And it’s more likely to have
+been a woman than a man----”
+
+“I don’t see that at all.”
+
+“I am absolutely certain that it would be a woman, and a good-looking
+one,” replied Tuppence calmly.
+
+“On these technical points I bow to your decision,” murmured Mr.
+Beresford.
+
+“Now, obviously this woman, whoever she was, was saved.”
+
+“How do you make that out?”
+
+“If she wasn’t, how would they have known Jane Finn had got the papers?”
+
+“Correct. Proceed, O Sherlock!”
+
+“Now there’s just a chance, I admit it’s only a chance, that this woman
+may have been ‘Rita.’”
+
+“And if so?”
+
+“If so, we’ve got to hunt through the survivors of the _Lusitania_ till
+we find her.”
+
+“Then the first thing is to get a list of the survivors.”
+
+“I’ve got it. I wrote a long list of things I wanted to know, and sent
+it to Mr. Carter. I got his reply this morning, and among other things
+it encloses the official statement of those saved from the _Lusitania_.
+How’s that for clever little Tuppence?”
+
+“Full marks for industry, zero for modesty. But the great point is, is
+there a ‘Rita’ on the list?”
+
+“That’s just what I don’t know,” confessed Tuppence.
+
+“Don’t know?”
+
+“Yes. Look here.” Together they bent over the list. “You see, very few
+Christian names are given. They’re nearly all Mrs. or Miss.”
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“That complicates matters,” he murmured thoughtfully.
+
+Tuppence gave her characteristic “terrier” shake.
+
+“Well, we’ve just got to get down to it, that’s all. We’ll start with
+the London area. Just note down the addresses of any of the females who
+live in London or roundabout, while I put on my hat.”
+
+Five minutes later the young couple emerged into Piccadilly, and a few
+seconds later a taxi was bearing them to The Laurels, Glendower Road,
+N.7, the residence of Mrs. Edgar Keith, whose name figured first in a
+list of seven reposing in Tommy’s pocket-book.
+
+The Laurels was a dilapidated house, standing back from the road with
+a few grimy bushes to support the fiction of a front garden. Tommy paid
+off the taxi, and accompanied Tuppence to the front door bell. As she
+was about to ring it, he arrested her hand.
+
+“What are you going to say?”
+
+“What am I going to say? Why, I shall say--Oh dear, I don’t know. It’s
+very awkward.”
+
+“I thought as much,” said Tommy with satisfaction. “How like a woman! No
+foresight! Now just stand aside, and see how easily the mere male
+deals with the situation.” He pressed the bell. Tuppence withdrew to a
+suitable spot.
+
+A slatternly looking servant, with an extremely dirty face and a pair of
+eyes that did not match, answered the door.
+
+Tommy had produced a notebook and pencil.
+
+“Good morning,” he said briskly and cheerfully. “From the Hampstead
+Borough Council. The new Voting Register. Mrs. Edgar Keith lives here,
+does she not?”
+
+“Yaas,” said the servant.
+
+“Christian name?” asked Tommy, his pencil poised.
+
+“Missus’s? Eleanor Jane.”
+
+“Eleanor,” spelt Tommy. “Any sons or daughters over twenty-one?”
+
+“Naow.”
+
+“Thank you.” Tommy closed the notebook with a brisk snap. “Good
+morning.”
+
+The servant volunteered her first remark:
+
+“I thought perhaps as you’d come about the gas,” she observed
+cryptically, and shut the door.
+
+Tommy rejoined his accomplice.
+
+“You see, Tuppence,” he observed. “Child’s play to the masculine mind.”
+
+“I don’t mind admitting that for once you’ve scored handsomely. I should
+never have thought of that.”
+
+“Good wheeze, wasn’t it? And we can repeat it _ad lib_.”
+
+Lunch-time found the young couple attacking a steak and chips in an
+obscure hostelry with avidity. They had collected a Gladys Mary and a
+Marjorie, been baffled by one change of address, and had been forced to
+listen to a long lecture on universal suffrage from a vivacious American
+lady whose Christian name had proved to be Sadie.
+
+“Ah!” said Tommy, imbibing a long draught of beer, “I feel better.
+Where’s the next draw?”
+
+The notebook lay on the table between them. Tuppence picked it up.
+
+“Mrs. Vandemeyer,” she read, “20 South Audley Mansions. Miss Wheeler, 43
+Clapington Road, Battersea. She’s a lady’s maid, as far as I remember,
+so probably won’t be there, and, anyway, she’s not likely.”
+
+“Then the Mayfair lady is clearly indicated as the first port of call.”
+
+“Tommy, I’m getting discouraged.”
+
+“Buck up, old bean. We always knew it was an outside chance. And,
+anyway, we’re only starting. If we draw a blank in London, there’s a
+fine tour of England, Ireland and Scotland before us.”
+
+“True,” said Tuppence, her flagging spirits reviving. “And all expenses
+paid! But, oh, Tommy, I do like things to happen quickly. So far,
+adventure has succeeded adventure, but this morning has been dull as
+dull.”
+
+“You must stifle this longing for vulgar sensation, Tuppence. Remember
+that if Mr. Brown is all he is reported to be, it’s a wonder that he has
+not ere now done us to death. That’s a good sentence, quite a literary
+flavour about it.”
+
+“You’re really more conceited than I am--with less excuse! Ahem! But it
+certainly is queer that Mr. Brown has not yet wreaked vengeance upon us.
+(You see, I can do it too.) We pass on our way unscathed.”
+
+“Perhaps he doesn’t think us worth bothering about,” suggested the young
+man simply.
+
+Tuppence received the remark with great disfavour.
+
+“How horrid you are, Tommy. Just as though we didn’t count.”
+
+“Sorry, Tuppence. What I meant was that we work like moles in the dark,
+and that he has no suspicion of our nefarious schemes. Ha ha!”
+
+“Ha ha!” echoed Tuppence approvingly, as she rose.
+
+South Audley Mansions was an imposing-looking block of flats just off
+Park Lane. No. 20 was on the second floor.
+
+Tommy had by this time the glibness born of practice. He rattled off
+the formula to the elderly woman, looking more like a housekeeper than a
+servant, who opened the door to him.
+
+“Christian name?”
+
+“Margaret.”
+
+Tommy spelt it, but the other interrupted him.
+
+“No, _g u e_.”
+
+“Oh, Marguerite; French way, I see.” He paused, then plunged boldly. “We
+had her down as Rita Vandemeyer, but I suppose that’s incorrect?”
+
+“She’s mostly called that, sir, but Marguerite’s her name.”
+
+“Thank you. That’s all. Good morning.”
+
+Hardly able to contain his excitement, Tommy hurried down the stairs.
+Tuppence was waiting at the angle of the turn.
+
+“You heard?”
+
+“Yes. Oh, _Tommy!_”
+
+Tommy squeezed her arm sympathetically.
+
+“I know, old thing. I feel the same.”
+
+“It’s--it’s so lovely to think of things--and then for them really to
+happen!” cried Tuppence enthusiastically.
+
+Her hand was still in Tommy’s. They had reached the entrance hall. There
+were footsteps on the stairs above them, and voices.
+
+Suddenly, to Tommy’s complete surprise, Tuppence dragged him into the
+little space by the side of the lift where the shadow was deepest.
+
+“What the----”
+
+“Hush!”
+
+Two men came down the stairs and passed out through the entrance.
+Tuppence’s hand closed tighter on Tommy’s arm.
+
+“Quick--follow them. I daren’t. He might recognize me. I don’t know who
+the other man is, but the bigger of the two was Whittington.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE HOUSE IN SOHO
+
+WHITTINGTON and his companion were walking at a good pace. Tommy started
+in pursuit at once, and was in time to see them turn the corner of the
+street. His vigorous strides soon enabled him to gain upon them, and by
+the time he, in his turn, reached the corner the distance between them
+was sensibly lessened. The small Mayfair streets were comparatively
+deserted, and he judged it wise to content himself with keeping them in
+sight.
+
+The sport was a new one to him. Though familiar with the technicalities
+from a course of novel reading, he had never before attempted to
+“follow” anyone, and it appeared to him at once that, in actual
+practice, the proceeding was fraught with difficulties. Supposing, for
+instance, that they should suddenly hail a taxi? In books, you simply
+leapt into another, promised the driver a sovereign--or its modern
+equivalent--and there you were. In actual fact, Tommy foresaw that it
+was extremely likely there would be no second taxi. Therefore he
+would have to run. What happened in actual fact to a young man who ran
+incessantly and persistently through the London streets? In a main road
+he might hope to create the illusion that he was merely running for a
+bus. But in these obscure aristocratic byways he could not but feel that
+an officious policeman might stop him to explain matters.
+
+At this juncture in his thoughts a taxi with flag erect turned the
+corner of the street ahead. Tommy held his breath. Would they hail it?
+
+He drew a sigh of relief as they allowed it to pass unchallenged. Their
+course was a zigzag one designed to bring them as quickly as possible
+to Oxford Street. When at length they turned into it, proceeding in an
+easterly direction, Tommy slightly increased his pace. Little by little
+he gained upon them. On the crowded pavement there was little chance of
+his attracting their notice, and he was anxious if possible to catch
+a word or two of their conversation. In this he was completely
+foiled; they spoke low and the din of the traffic drowned their voices
+effectually.
+
+Just before the Bond Street Tube station they crossed the road, Tommy,
+unperceived, faithfully at their heels, and entered the big Lyons’.
+There they went up to the first floor, and sat at a small table in the
+window. It was late, and the place was thinning out. Tommy took a seat
+at the table next to them, sitting directly behind Whittington in case
+of recognition. On the other hand, he had a full view of the second man
+and studied him attentively. He was fair, with a weak, unpleasant face,
+and Tommy put him down as being either a Russian or a Pole. He was
+probably about fifty years of age, his shoulders cringed a little as he
+talked, and his eyes, small and crafty, shifted unceasingly.
+
+Having already lunched heartily, Tommy contented himself with ordering
+a Welsh rarebit and a cup of coffee. Whittington ordered a substantial
+lunch for himself and his companion; then, as the waitress withdrew, he
+moved his chair a little closer to the table and began to talk earnestly
+in a low voice. The other man joined in. Listen as he would, Tommy could
+only catch a word here and there; but the gist of it seemed to be some
+directions or orders which the big man was impressing on his companion,
+and with which the latter seemed from time to time to disagree.
+Whittington addressed the other as Boris.
+
+Tommy caught the word “Ireland” several times, also “propaganda,” but
+of Jane Finn there was no mention. Suddenly, in a lull in the clatter of
+the room, he got one phrase entire. Whittington was speaking. “Ah, but
+you don’t know Flossie. She’s a marvel. An archbishop would swear she
+was his own mother. She gets the voice right every time, and that’s
+really the principal thing.”
+
+Tommy did not hear Boris’s reply, but in response to it Whittington said
+something that sounded like: “Of course--only in an emergency....”
+
+Then he lost the thread again. But presently the phrases became distinct
+again whether because the other two had insensibly raised their voices,
+or because Tommy’s ears were getting more attuned, he could not tell.
+But two words certainly had a most stimulating effect upon the listener.
+They were uttered by Boris and they were: “Mr. Brown.”
+
+Whittington seemed to remonstrate with him, but he merely laughed.
+
+“Why not, my friend? It is a name most respectable--most common. Did
+he not choose it for that reason? Ah, I should like to meet him--Mr.
+Brown.”
+
+There was a steely ring in Whittington’s voice as he replied:
+
+“Who knows? You may have met him already.”
+
+“Bah!” retorted the other. “That is children’s talk--a fable for the
+police. Do you know what I say to myself sometimes? That he is a fable
+invented by the Inner Ring, a bogy to frighten us with. It might be so.”
+
+“And it might not.”
+
+“I wonder ... or is it indeed true that he is with us and amongst us,
+unknown to all but a chosen few? If so, he keeps his secret well. And
+the idea is a good one, yes. We never know. We look at each other--
+_one of us is Mr. Brown_--which? He commands--but also he serves. Among
+us--in the midst of us. And no one knows which he is....”
+
+With an effort the Russian shook off the vagary of his fancy. He looked
+at his watch.
+
+“Yes,” said Whittington. “We might as well go.”
+
+He called the waitress and asked for his bill. Tommy did likewise, and a
+few moments later was following the two men down the stairs.
+
+Outside, Whittington hailed a taxi, and directed the driver to go to
+Waterloo.
+
+Taxis were plentiful here, and before Whittington’s had driven off
+another was drawing up to the curb in obedience to Tommy’s peremptory
+hand.
+
+“Follow that other taxi,” directed the young man. “Don’t lose it.”
+
+The elderly chauffeur showed no interest. He merely grunted and jerked
+down his flag. The drive was uneventful. Tommy’s taxi came to rest at
+the departure platform just after Whittington’s. Tommy was behind him at
+the booking-office. He took a first-class single ticket to Bournemouth,
+Tommy did the same. As he emerged, Boris remarked, glancing up at the
+clock: “You are early. You have nearly half an hour.”
+
+Boris’s words had aroused a new train of thought in Tommy’s mind.
+Clearly Whittington was making the journey alone, while the other
+remained in London. Therefore he was left with a choice as to which he
+would follow. Obviously, he could not follow both of them unless----
+Like Boris, he glanced up at the clock, and then to the announcement
+board of the trains. The Bournemouth train left at 3.30. It was now ten
+past. Whittington and Boris were walking up and down by the bookstall.
+He gave one doubtful look at them, then hurried into an adjacent
+telephone box. He dared not waste time in trying to get hold of
+Tuppence. In all probability she was still in the neighbourhood of South
+Audley Mansions. But there remained another ally. He rang up the _Ritz_
+and asked for Julius Hersheimmer. There was a click and a buzz. Oh, if
+only the young American was in his room! There was another click, and
+then “Hello” in unmistakable accents came over the wire.
+
+“That you, Hersheimmer? Beresford speaking. I’m at Waterloo. I’ve
+followed Whittington and another man here. No time to explain.
+Whittington’s off to Bournemouth by the 3.30. Can you get there by
+then?”
+
+The reply was reassuring.
+
+“Sure. I’ll hustle.”
+
+The telephone rang off. Tommy put back the receiver with a sigh of
+relief. His opinion of Julius’s power of hustling was high. He felt
+instinctively that the American would arrive in time.
+
+Whittington and Boris were still where he had left them. If Boris
+remained to see his friend off, all was well. Then Tommy fingered his
+pocket thoughtfully. In spite of the carte blanche assured to him, he
+had not yet acquired the habit of going about with any considerable sum
+of money on him. The taking of the first-class ticket to Bournemouth
+had left him with only a few shillings in his pocket. It was to be hoped
+that Julius would arrive better provided.
+
+In the meantime, the minutes were creeping by: 3.15, 3.20, 3.25, 3.27.
+Supposing Julius did not get there in time. 3.29.... Doors were banging.
+Tommy felt cold waves of despair pass over him. Then a hand fell on his
+shoulder.
+
+“Here I am, son. Your British traffic beats description! Put me wise to
+the crooks right away.”
+
+“That’s Whittington--there, getting in now, that big dark man. The other
+is the foreign chap he’s talking to.”
+
+“I’m on to them. Which of the two is my bird?”
+
+Tommy had thought out this question.
+
+“Got any money with you?”
+
+Julius shook his head, and Tommy’s face fell.
+
+“I guess I haven’t more than three or four hundred dollars with me at
+the moment,” explained the American.
+
+Tommy gave a faint whoop of relief.
+
+“Oh, Lord, you millionaires! You don’t talk the same language! Climb
+aboard the lugger. Here’s your ticket. Whittington’s your man.”
+
+“Me for Whittington!” said Julius darkly. The train was just starting
+as he swung himself aboard. “So long, Tommy.” The train slid out of the
+station.
+
+Tommy drew a deep breath. The man Boris was coming along the platform
+towards him. Tommy allowed him to pass and then took up the chase once
+more.
+
+From Waterloo Boris took the tube as far as Piccadilly Circus. Then he
+walked up Shaftesbury Avenue, finally turning off into the maze of mean
+streets round Soho. Tommy followed him at a judicious distance.
+
+They reached at length a small dilapidated square. The houses there had
+a sinister air in the midst of their dirt and decay. Boris looked round,
+and Tommy drew back into the shelter of a friendly porch. The place was
+almost deserted. It was a cul-de-sac, and consequently no traffic passed
+that way. The stealthy way the other had looked round stimulated Tommy’s
+imagination. From the shelter of the doorway he watched him go up the
+steps of a particularly evil-looking house and rap sharply, with a
+peculiar rhythm, on the door. It was opened promptly, he said a word or
+two to the doorkeeper, then passed inside. The door was shut to again.
+
+It was at this juncture that Tommy lost his head. What he ought to have
+done, what any sane man would have done, was to remain patiently where
+he was and wait for his man to come out again. What he did do was
+entirely foreign to the sober common sense which was, as a rule, his
+leading characteristic. Something, as he expressed it, seemed to snap in
+his brain. Without a moment’s pause for reflection he, too, went up the
+steps, and reproduced as far as he was able the peculiar knock.
+
+The door swung open with the same promptness as before. A
+villainous-faced man with close-cropped hair stood in the doorway.
+
+“Well?” he grunted.
+
+It was at that moment that the full realization of his folly began to
+come home to Tommy. But he dared not hesitate. He seized at the first
+words that came into his mind.
+
+“Mr. Brown?” he said.
+
+To his surprise the man stood aside.
+
+“Upstairs,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, “second door
+on your left.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE ADVENTURES OF TOMMY
+
+TAKEN aback though he was by the man’s words, Tommy did not hesitate.
+If audacity had successfully carried him so far, it was to be hoped
+it would carry him yet farther. He quietly passed into the house and
+mounted the ramshackle staircase. Everything in the house was filthy
+beyond words. The grimy paper, of a pattern now indistinguishable,
+hung in loose festoons from the wall. In every angle was a grey mass of
+cobweb.
+
+Tommy proceeded leisurely. By the time he reached the bend of the
+staircase, he had heard the man below disappear into a back room.
+Clearly no suspicion attached to him as yet. To come to the house and
+ask for “Mr. Brown” appeared indeed to be a reasonable and natural
+proceeding.
+
+At the top of the stairs Tommy halted to consider his next move. In
+front of him ran a narrow passage, with doors opening on either side of
+it. From the one nearest him on the left came a low murmur of voices.
+It was this room which he had been directed to enter. But what held
+his glance fascinated was a small recess immediately on his right,
+half concealed by a torn velvet curtain. It was directly opposite the
+left-handed door and, owing to its angle, it also commanded a good view
+of the upper part of the staircase. As a hiding-place for one or, at a
+pinch, two men, it was ideal, being about two feet deep and three feet
+wide. It attracted Tommy mightily. He thought things over in his usual
+slow and steady way, deciding that the mention of “Mr. Brown” was not a
+request for an individual, but in all probability a password used by
+the gang. His lucky use of it had gained him admission. So far he had
+aroused no suspicion. But he must decide quickly on his next step.
+
+Suppose he were boldly to enter the room on the left of the passage.
+Would the mere fact of his having been admitted to the house be
+sufficient? Perhaps a further password would be required, or, at any
+rate, some proof of identity. The doorkeeper clearly did not know all
+the members of the gang by sight, but it might be different upstairs.
+On the whole it seemed to him that luck had served him very well so far,
+but that there was such a thing as trusting it too far. To enter
+that room was a colossal risk. He could not hope to sustain his part
+indefinitely; sooner or later he was almost bound to betray himself, and
+then he would have thrown away a vital chance in mere foolhardiness.
+
+A repetition of the signal knock sounded on the door below, and Tommy,
+his mind made up, slipped quickly into the recess, and cautiously drew
+the curtain farther across so that it shielded him completely from
+sight. There were several rents and slits in the ancient material which
+afforded him a good view. He would watch events, and any time he chose
+could, after all, join the assembly, modelling his behaviour on that of
+the new arrival.
+
+The man who came up the staircase with a furtive, soft-footed tread was
+quite unknown to Tommy. He was obviously of the very dregs of society.
+The low beetling brows, and the criminal jaw, the bestiality of the
+whole countenance were new to the young man, though he was a type that
+Scotland Yard would have recognized at a glance.
+
+The man passed the recess, breathing heavily as he went. He stopped at
+the door opposite, and gave a repetition of the signal knock. A voice
+inside called out something, and the man opened the door and passed in,
+affording Tommy a momentary glimpse of the room inside. He thought there
+must be about four or five people seated round a long table that took up
+most of the space, but his attention was caught and held by a tall man
+with close-cropped hair and a short, pointed, naval-looking beard,
+who sat at the head of the table with papers in front of him. As the
+new-comer entered he glanced up, and with a correct, but curiously
+precise enunciation, which attracted Tommy’s notice, he asked:
+
+“Your number, comrade?”
+
+“Fourteen, gov’nor,” replied the other hoarsely.
+
+“Correct.”
+
+The door shut again.
+
+“If that isn’t a Hun, I’m a Dutchman!” said Tommy to himself. “And
+running the show darned systematically too--as they always do. Lucky I
+didn’t roll in. I’d have given the wrong number, and there would have
+been the deuce to pay. No, this is the place for me. Hullo, here’s
+another knock.”
+
+This visitor proved to be of an entirely different type to the last.
+Tommy recognized in him an Irish Sinn Feiner. Certainly Mr. Brown’s
+organization was a far-reaching concern. The common criminal, the
+well-bred Irish gentleman, the pale Russian, and the efficient German
+master of the ceremonies! Truly a strange and sinister gathering! Who
+was this man who held in his finger these curiously variegated links of
+an unknown chain?
+
+In this case, the procedure was exactly the same. The signal knock, the
+demand for a number, and the reply “Correct.”
+
+Two knocks followed in quick succession on the door below. The first man
+was quite unknown to Tommy, who put him down as a city clerk. A quiet,
+intelligent-looking man, rather shabbily dressed. The second was of the
+working classes, and his face was vaguely familiar to the young man.
+
+Three minutes later came another, a man of commanding appearance,
+exquisitely dressed, and evidently well born. His face, again, was not
+unknown to the watcher, though he could not for the moment put a name to
+it.
+
+After his arrival there was a long wait. In fact Tommy concluded that
+the gathering was now complete, and was just cautiously creeping out
+from his hiding-place, when another knock sent him scuttling back to
+cover.
+
+This last-comer came up the stairs so quietly that he was almost abreast
+of Tommy before the young man had realized his presence.
+
+He was a small man, very pale, with a gentle almost womanish air. The
+angle of the cheek-bones hinted at his Slavonic ancestry, otherwise
+there was nothing to indicate his nationality. As he passed the recess,
+he turned his head slowly. The strange light eyes seemed to burn through
+the curtain; Tommy could hardly believe that the man did not know he was
+there and in spite of himself he shivered. He was no more fanciful than
+the majority of young Englishmen, but he could not rid himself of the
+impression that some unusually potent force emanated from the man. The
+creature reminded him of a venomous snake.
+
+A moment later his impression was proved correct. The new-comer knocked
+on the door as all had done, but his reception was very different. The
+bearded man rose to his feet, and all the others followed suit. The
+German came forward and shook hands. His heels clicked together.
+
+“We are honoured,” he said. “We are greatly honoured. I much feared that
+it would be impossible.”
+
+The other answered in a low voice that had a kind of hiss in it:
+
+“There were difficulties. It will not be possible again, I fear. But one
+meeting is essential--to define my policy. I can do nothing without--Mr.
+Brown. He is here?”
+
+The change in the German’s voice was audible as he replied with slight
+hesitation:
+
+“We have received a message. It is impossible for him to be present
+in person.” He stopped, giving a curious impression of having left the
+sentence unfinished.
+
+A very slow smile overspread the face of the other. He looked round at a
+circle of uneasy faces.
+
+“Ah! I understand. I have read of his methods. He works in the dark and
+trusts no one. But, all the same, it is possible that he is among us
+now....” He looked round him again, and again that expression of fear
+swept over the group. Each man seemed eyeing his neighbour doubtfully.
+
+The Russian tapped his cheek.
+
+“So be it. Let us proceed.”
+
+The German seemed to pull himself together. He indicated the place he
+had been occupying at the head of the table. The Russian demurred, but
+the other insisted.
+
+“It is the only possible place,” he said, “for--Number One. Perhaps
+Number Fourteen will shut the door?”
+
+In another moment Tommy was once more confronting bare wooden panels,
+and the voices within had sunk once more to a mere undistinguishable
+murmur. Tommy became restive. The conversation he had overheard had
+stimulated his curiosity. He felt that, by hook or by crook, he must
+hear more.
+
+There was no sound from below, and it did not seem likely that the
+doorkeeper would come upstairs. After listening intently for a minute or
+two, he put his head round the curtain. The passage was deserted. Tommy
+bent down and removed his shoes, then, leaving them behind the curtain,
+he walked gingerly out on his stockinged feet, and kneeling down by
+the closed door he laid his ear cautiously to the crack. To his intense
+annoyance he could distinguish little more; just a chance word here and
+there if a voice was raised, which merely served to whet his curiosity
+still farther.
+
+He eyed the handle of the door tentatively. Could he turn it by degrees
+so gently and imperceptibly that those in the room would notice nothing?
+He decided that with great care it could be done. Very slowly, a
+fraction of an inch at a time, he moved it round, holding his breath in
+his excessive care. A little more--a little more still--would it never
+be finished? Ah! at last it would turn no farther.
+
+He stayed so for a minute or two, then drew a deep breath, and pressed
+it ever so slightly inward. The door did not budge. Tommy was annoyed.
+If he had to use too much force, it would almost certainly creak.
+He waited until the voices rose a little, then he tried again. Still
+nothing happened. He increased the pressure. Had the beastly thing
+stuck? Finally, in desperation, he pushed with all his might. But the
+door remained firm, and at last the truth dawned upon him. It was locked
+or bolted on the inside.
+
+For a moment or two Tommy’s indignation got the better of him.
+
+“Well, I’m damned!” he said. “What a dirty trick!”
+
+As his indignation cooled, he prepared to face the situation. Clearly
+the first thing to be done was to restore the handle to its original
+position. If he let it go suddenly, the men inside would be almost
+certain to notice it, so, with the same infinite pains, he reversed his
+former tactics. All went well, and with a sigh of relief the young man
+rose to his feet. There was a certain bulldog tenacity about Tommy that
+made him slow to admit defeat. Checkmated for the moment, he was far
+from abandoning the conflict. He still intended to hear what was going
+on in the locked room. As one plan had failed, he must hunt about for
+another.
+
+He looked round him. A little farther along the passage on the left was
+a second door. He slipped silently along to it. He listened for a moment
+or two, then tried the handle. It yielded, and he slipped inside.
+
+The room, which was untenanted, was furnished as a bedroom. Like
+everything else in the house, the furniture was falling to pieces, and
+the dirt was, if anything, more abundant.
+
+But what interested Tommy was the thing he had hoped to find, a
+communicating door between the two rooms, up on the left by the window.
+Carefully closing the door into the passage behind him, he stepped
+across to the other and examined it closely. The bolt was shot across
+it. It was very rusty, and had clearly not been used for some time. By
+gently wriggling it to and fro, Tommy managed to draw it back without
+making too much noise. Then he repeated his former manœuvres with the
+handle--this time with complete success. The door swung open--a crack,
+a mere fraction, but enough for Tommy to hear what went on. There was a
+velvet _portière_ on the inside of this door which prevented him from
+seeing, but he was able to recognize the voices with a reasonable amount
+of accuracy.
+
+The Sinn Feiner was speaking. His rich Irish voice was unmistakable:
+
+“That’s all very well. But more money is essential. No money--no
+results!”
+
+Another voice which Tommy rather thought was that of Boris replied:
+
+“Will you guarantee that there _are_ results?”
+
+“In a month from now--sooner or later as you wish--I will guarantee you
+such a reign of terror in Ireland as shall shake the British Empire to
+its foundations.”
+
+There was a pause, and then came the soft, sibilant accents of Number
+One:
+
+“Good! You shall have the money. Boris, you will see to that.”
+
+Boris asked a question:
+
+“Via the Irish Americans, and Mr. Potter as usual?”
+
+“I guess that’ll be all right!” said a new voice, with a transatlantic
+intonation, “though I’d like to point out, here and now, that things
+are getting a mite difficult. There’s not the sympathy there was, and
+a growing disposition to let the Irish settle their own affairs without
+interference from America.”
+
+Tommy felt that Boris had shrugged his shoulders as he answered:
+
+“Does that matter, since the money only nominally comes from the
+States?”
+
+“The chief difficulty is the landing of the ammunition,” said the Sinn
+Feiner. “The money is conveyed in easily enough--thanks to our colleague
+here.”
+
+Another voice, which Tommy fancied was that of the tall,
+commanding-looking man whose face had seemed familiar to him, said:
+
+“Think of the feelings of Belfast if they could hear you!”
+
+“That is settled, then,” said the sibilant tones. “Now, in the matter
+of the loan to an English newspaper, you have arranged the details
+satisfactorily, Boris?”
+
+“I think so.”
+
+“That is good. An official denial from Moscow will be forthcoming if
+necessary.”
+
+There was a pause, and then the clear voice of the German broke the
+silence:
+
+“I am directed by--Mr. Brown, to place the summaries of the reports
+from the different unions before you. That of the miners is most
+satisfactory. We must hold back the railways. There may be trouble with
+the A.S.E.”
+
+For a long time there was a silence, broken only by the rustle of papers
+and an occasional word of explanation from the German. Then Tommy heard
+the light tap-tap of fingers, drumming on the table.
+
+“And--the date, my friend?” said Number One.
+
+“The 29th.”
+
+The Russian seemed to consider:
+
+“That is rather soon.”
+
+“I know. But it was settled by the principal Labour leaders, and we
+cannot seem to interfere too much. They must believe it to be entirely
+their own show.”
+
+The Russian laughed softly, as though amused.
+
+“Yes, yes,” he said. “That is true. They must have no inkling that we
+are using them for our own ends. They are honest men--and that is their
+value to us. It is curious--but you cannot make a revolution without
+honest men. The instinct of the populace is infallible.” He paused, and
+then repeated, as though the phrase pleased him: “Every revolution has
+had its honest men. They are soon disposed of afterwards.”
+
+There was a sinister note in his voice.
+
+The German resumed:
+
+“Clymes must go. He is too far-seeing. Number Fourteen will see to
+that.”
+
+There was a hoarse murmur.
+
+“That’s all right, gov’nor.” And then after a moment or two: “Suppose
+I’m nabbed.”
+
+“You will have the best legal talent to defend you,” replied the
+German quietly. “But in any case you will wear gloves fitted with the
+finger-prints of a notorious housebreaker. You have little to fear.”
+
+“Oh, I ain’t afraid, gov’nor. All for the good of the cause. The streets
+is going to run with blood, so they say.” He spoke with a grim relish.
+“Dreams of it, sometimes, I does. And diamonds and pearls rolling about
+in the gutter for anyone to pick up!”
+
+Tommy heard a chair shifted. Then Number One spoke:
+
+“Then all is arranged. We are assured of success?”
+
+“I--think so.” But the German spoke with less than his usual confidence.
+
+Number One’s voice held suddenly a dangerous quality:
+
+“What has gone wrong?”
+
+“Nothing; but----”
+
+“But what?”
+
+“The Labour leaders. Without them, as you say, we can do nothing. If
+they do not declare a general strike on the 29th----”
+
+“Why should they not?”
+
+“As you’ve said, they’re honest. And, in spite of everything we’ve
+done to discredit the Government in their eyes, I’m not sure that they
+haven’t got a sneaking faith and belief in it.”
+
+“But----”
+
+“I know. They abuse it unceasingly. But, on the whole, public opinion
+swings to the side of the Government. They will not go against it.”
+
+Again the Russian’s fingers drummed on the table.
+
+“To the point, my friend. I was given to understand that there was a
+certain document in existence which assured success.”
+
+“That is so. If that document were placed before the leaders, the result
+would be immediate. They would publish it broadcast throughout England,
+and declare for the revolution without a moment’s hesitation. The
+Government would be broken finally and completely.”
+
+“Then what more do you want?”
+
+“The document itself,” said the German bluntly.
+
+“Ah! It is not in your possession? But you know where it is?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Does anyone know where it is?”
+
+“One person--perhaps. And we are not sure of that even.”
+
+“Who is this person?”
+
+“A girl.”
+
+Tommy held his breath.
+
+“A girl?” The Russian’s voice rose contemptuously. “And you have not
+made her speak? In Russia we have ways of making a girl talk.”
+
+“This case is different,” said the German sullenly.
+
+“How--different?” He paused a moment, then went on: “Where is the girl
+now?”
+
+“The girl?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“She is----”
+
+But Tommy heard no more. A crashing blow descended on his head, and all
+was darkness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. TUPPENCE ENTERS DOMESTIC SERVICE
+
+WHEN Tommy set forth on the trail of the two men, it took all Tuppence’s
+self-command to refrain from accompanying him. However, she contained
+herself as best she might, consoled by the reflection that her reasoning
+had been justified by events. The two men had undoubtedly come from the
+second floor flat, and that one slender thread of the name “Rita” had
+set the Young Adventurers once more upon the track of the abductors of
+Jane Finn.
+
+The question was what to do next? Tuppence hated letting the grass grow
+under her feet. Tommy was amply employed, and debarred from joining him
+in the chase, the girl felt at a loose end. She retraced her steps
+to the entrance hall of the mansions. It was now tenanted by a small
+lift-boy, who was polishing brass fittings, and whistling the latest air
+with a good deal of vigour and a reasonable amount of accuracy.
+
+He glanced round at Tuppence’s entry. There was a certain amount of the
+gamin element in the girl, at all events she invariably got on well
+with small boys. A sympathetic bond seemed instantly to be formed. She
+reflected that an ally in the enemy’s camp, so to speak, was not to be
+despised.
+
+“Well, William,” she remarked cheerfully, in the best approved
+hospital-early-morning style, “getting a good shine up?”
+
+The boy grinned responsively.
+
+“Albert, miss,” he corrected.
+
+“Albert be it,” said Tuppence. She glanced mysteriously round the hall.
+The effect was purposely a broad one in case Albert should miss it. She
+leaned towards the boy and dropped her voice: “I want a word with you,
+Albert.”
+
+Albert ceased operations on the fittings and opened his mouth slightly.
+
+“Look! Do you know what this is?” With a dramatic gesture she flung back
+the left side of her coat and exposed a small enamelled badge. It was
+extremely unlikely that Albert would have any knowledge of it--indeed,
+it would have been fatal for Tuppence’s plans, since the badge in
+question was the device of a local training corps originated by the
+archdeacon in the early days of the war. Its presence in Tuppence’s coat
+was due to the fact that she had used it for pinning in some flowers a
+day or two before. But Tuppence had sharp eyes, and had noted the corner
+of a threepenny detective novel protruding from Albert’s pocket, and the
+immediate enlargement of his eyes told her that her tactics were good,
+and that the fish would rise to the bait.
+
+“American Detective Force!” she hissed.
+
+Albert fell for it.
+
+“Lord!” he murmured ecstatically.
+
+Tuppence nodded at him with the air of one who has established a
+thorough understanding.
+
+“Know who I’m after?” she inquired genially.
+
+Albert, still round-eyed, demanded breathlessly:
+
+“One of the flats?”
+
+Tuppence nodded and jerked a thumb up the stairs.
+
+“No. 20. Calls herself Vandemeyer. Vandemeyer! Ha! ha!”
+
+Albert’s hand stole to his pocket.
+
+“A crook?” he queried eagerly.
+
+“A crook? I should say so. Ready Rita they call her in the States.”
+
+“Ready Rita,” repeated Albert deliriously. “Oh, ain’t it just like the
+pictures!”
+
+It was. Tuppence was a great frequenter of the cinema.
+
+“Annie always said as how she was a bad lot,” continued the boy.
+
+“Who’s Annie?” inquired Tuppence idly.
+
+“‘Ouse-parlourmaid. She’s leaving to-day. Many’s the time Annie’s said
+to me: ‘Mark my words, Albert, I wouldn’t wonder if the police was to
+come after her one of these days.’ Just like that. But she’s a stunner
+to look at, ain’t she?”
+
+“She’s some peach,” allowed Tuppence carelessly. “Finds it useful in her
+lay-out, you bet. Has she been wearing any of the emeralds, by the way?”
+
+“Emeralds? Them’s the green stones, isn’t they?”
+
+Tuppence nodded.
+
+“That’s what we’re after her for. You know old man Rysdale?”
+
+Albert shook his head.
+
+“Peter B. Rysdale, the oil king?”
+
+“It seems sort of familiar to me.”
+
+“The sparklers belonged to him. Finest collection of emeralds in the
+world. Worth a million dollars!”
+
+“Lumme!” came ecstatically from Albert. “It sounds more like the
+pictures every minute.”
+
+Tuppence smiled, gratified at the success of her efforts.
+
+“We haven’t exactly proved it yet. But we’re after her. And”--she
+produced a long-drawn-out wink--“I guess she won’t get away with the
+goods this time.”
+
+Albert uttered another ejaculation indicative of delight.
+
+“Mind you, sonny, not a word of this,” said Tuppence suddenly. “I guess
+I oughtn’t to have put you wise, but in the States we know a real smart
+lad when we see one.”
+
+“I’ll not breathe a word,” protested Albert eagerly. “Ain’t there
+anything I could do? A bit of shadowing, maybe, or such like?”
+
+Tuppence affected to consider, then shook her head.
+
+“Not at the moment, but I’ll bear you in mind, son. What’s this about
+the girl you say is leaving?”
+
+“Annie? Regular turn up, they ‘ad. As Annie said, servants is some one
+nowadays, and to be treated accordingly, and, what with her passing the
+word round, she won’t find it so easy to get another.”
+
+“Won’t she?” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “I wonder----”
+
+An idea was dawning in her brain. She thought a minute or two, then
+tapped Albert on the shoulder.
+
+“See here, son, my brain’s got busy. How would it be if you mentioned
+that you’d got a young cousin, or a friend of yours had, that might suit
+the place. You get me?”
+
+“I’m there,” said Albert instantly. “You leave it to me, miss, and I’ll
+fix the whole thing up in two ticks.”
+
+“Some lad!” commented Tuppence, with a nod of approval. “You might say
+that the young woman could come in right away. You let me know, and if
+it’s O.K. I’ll be round to-morrow at eleven o’clock.”
+
+“Where am I to let you know to?”
+
+“_Ritz_,” replied Tuppence laconically. “Name of Cowley.”
+
+Albert eyed her enviously.
+
+“It must be a good job, this tec business.”
+
+“It sure is,” drawled Tuppence, “especially when old man Rysdale backs
+the bill. But don’t fret, son. If this goes well, you shall come in on
+the ground floor.”
+
+With which promise she took leave of her new ally, and walked briskly
+away from South Audley Mansions, well pleased with her morning’s work.
+
+But there was no time to be lost. She went straight back to the _Ritz_
+and wrote a few brief words to Mr. Carter. Having dispatched this, and
+Tommy not having yet returned--which did not surprise her--she started
+off on a shopping expedition which, with an interval for tea and
+assorted creamy cakes, occupied her until well after six o’clock, and
+she returned to the hotel jaded, but satisfied with her purchases.
+Starting with a cheap clothing store, and passing through one or two
+second-hand establishments, she had finished the day at a well-known
+hairdresser’s. Now, in the seclusion of her bedroom, she unwrapped
+that final purchase. Five minutes later she smiled contentedly at her
+reflection in the glass. With an actress’s pencil she had slightly
+altered the line of her eyebrows, and that, taken in conjunction with
+the new luxuriant growth of fair hair above, so changed her appearance
+that she felt confident that even if she came face to face with
+Whittington he would not recognize her. She would wear elevators in her
+shoes, and the cap and apron would be an even more valuable disguise.
+From hospital experience she knew only too well that a nurse out of
+uniform is frequently unrecognized by her patients.
+
+“Yes,” said Tuppence aloud, nodding at the pert reflection in the glass,
+“you’ll do.” She then resumed her normal appearance.
+
+Dinner was a solitary meal. Tuppence was rather surprised at Tommy’s
+non-return. Julius, too, was absent--but that to the girl’s mind was
+more easily explained. His “hustling” activities were not confined
+to London, and his abrupt appearances and disappearances were fully
+accepted by the Young Adventurers as part of the day’s work. It
+was quite on the cards that Julius P. Hersheimmer had left for
+Constantinople at a moment’s notice if he fancied that a clue to his
+cousin’s disappearance was to be found there. The energetic young
+man had succeeded in making the lives of several Scotland Yard men
+unbearable to them, and the telephone girls at the Admiralty had learned
+to know and dread the familiar “Hullo!” He had spent three hours in
+Paris hustling the Prefecture, and had returned from there imbued with
+the idea, possibly inspired by a weary French official, that the true
+clue to the mystery was to be found in Ireland.
+
+“I dare say he’s dashed off there now,” thought Tuppence. “All very
+well, but this is very dull for _me!_ Here I am bursting with news, and
+absolutely no one to tell it to! Tommy might have wired, or something. I
+wonder where he is. Anyway, he can’t have ‘lost the trail’ as they say.
+That reminds me----” And Miss Cowley broke off in her meditations, and
+summoned a small boy.
+
+Ten minutes later the lady was ensconced comfortably on her bed,
+smoking cigarettes and deep in the perusal of _Garnaby Williams, the Boy
+Detective_, which, with other threepenny works of lurid fiction, she had
+sent out to purchase. She felt, and rightly, that before the strain
+of attempting further intercourse with Albert, it would be as well to
+fortify herself with a good supply of local colour.
+
+The morning brought a note from Mr. Carter:
+
+“DEAR MISS TUPPENCE,
+
+“You have made a splendid start, and I congratulate you. I feel, though,
+that I should like to point out to you once more the risks you are
+running, especially if you pursue the course you indicate. Those people
+are absolutely desperate and incapable of either mercy or pity. I feel
+that you probably underestimate the danger, and therefore warn you
+again that I can promise you no protection. You have given us valuable
+information, and if you choose to withdraw now no one could blame you.
+At any rate, think the matter over well before you decide.
+
+“If, in spite of my warnings, you make up your mind to go through with
+it, you will find everything arranged. You have lived for two years with
+Miss Dufferin, The Parsonage, Llanelly, and Mrs. Vandemeyer can apply to
+her for a reference.
+
+“May I be permitted a word or two of advice? Stick as near to the truth
+as possible--it minimizes the danger of ‘slips.’ I suggest that you
+should represent yourself to be what you are, a former V.A.D., who has
+chosen domestic service as a profession. There are many such at the
+present time. That explains away any incongruities of voice or manner
+which otherwise might awaken suspicion.
+
+“Whichever way you decide, good luck to you.
+
+“Your sincere friend,
+
+“MR. CARTER.”
+
+Tuppence’s spirits rose mercurially. Mr. Carter’s warnings passed
+unheeded. The young lady had far too much confidence in herself to pay
+any heed to them.
+
+With some reluctance she abandoned the interesting part she had sketched
+out for herself. Although she had no doubts of her own powers to sustain
+a role indefinitely, she had too much common sense not to recognize the
+force of Mr. Carter’s arguments.
+
+There was still no word or message from Tommy, but the morning post
+brought a somewhat dirty postcard with the words: “It’s O.K.” scrawled
+upon it.
+
+At ten-thirty Tuppence surveyed with pride a slightly battered tin trunk
+containing her new possessions. It was artistically corded. It was with
+a slight blush that she rang the bell and ordered it to be placed in a
+taxi. She drove to Paddington, and left the box in the cloak room.
+She then repaired with a handbag to the fastnesses of the ladies’
+waiting-room. Ten minutes later a metamorphosed Tuppence walked demurely
+out of the station and entered a bus.
+
+It was a few minutes past eleven when Tuppence again entered the hall
+of South Audley Mansions. Albert was on the look-out, attending to his
+duties in a somewhat desultory fashion. He did not immediately recognize
+Tuppence. When he did, his admiration was unbounded.
+
+“Blest if I’d have known you! That rig-out’s top-hole.”
+
+“Glad you like it, Albert,” replied Tuppence modestly. “By the way, am I
+your cousin, or am I not?”
+
+“Your voice too,” cried the delighted boy. “It’s as English as anything!
+No, I said as a friend of mine knew a young gal. Annie wasn’t best
+pleased. She’s stopped on till to-day--to oblige, _she_ said, but really
+it’s so as to put you against the place.”
+
+“Nice girl,” said Tuppence.
+
+Albert suspected no irony.
+
+“She’s style about her, and keeps her silver a treat--but, my word,
+ain’t she got a temper. Are you going up now, miss? Step inside the
+lift. No. 20 did you say?” And he winked.
+
+Tuppence quelled him with a stern glance, and stepped inside.
+
+As she rang the bell of No. 20 she was conscious of Albert’s eyes slowly
+descending beneath the level of the floor.
+
+A smart young woman opened the door.
+
+“I’ve come about the place,” said Tuppence.
+
+“It’s a rotten place,” said the young woman without hesitation. “Regular
+old cat--always interfering. Accused me of tampering with her letters.
+Me! The flap was half undone anyway. There’s never anything in the
+waste-paper basket--she burns everything. She’s a wrong ‘un, that’s what
+she is. Swell clothes, but no class. Cook knows something about her--but
+she won’t tell--scared to death of her. And suspicious! She’s on to you
+in a minute if you as much as speak to a fellow. I can tell you----”
+
+But what more Annie could tell, Tuppence was never destined to learn,
+for at that moment a clear voice with a peculiarly steely ring to it
+called:
+
+“Annie!”
+
+The smart young woman jumped as if she had been shot.
+
+“Yes, ma’am.”
+
+“Who are you talking to?”
+
+“It’s a young woman about the situation, ma’am.”
+
+“Show her in then. At once.”
+
+“Yes, ma’am.”
+
+Tuppence was ushered into a room on the right of the long passage. A
+woman was standing by the fireplace. She was no longer in her first
+youth, and the beauty she undeniably possessed was hardened and
+coarsened. In her youth she must have been dazzling. Her pale gold hair,
+owing a slight assistance to art, was coiled low on her neck, her eyes,
+of a piercing electric blue, seemed to possess a faculty of boring into
+the very soul of the person she was looking at. Her exquisite figure was
+enhanced by a wonderful gown of indigo charmeuse. And yet, despite her
+swaying grace, and the almost ethereal beauty of her face, you felt
+instinctively the presence of something hard and menacing, a kind of
+metallic strength that found expression in the tones of her voice and in
+that gimlet-like quality of her eyes.
+
+For the first time Tuppence felt afraid. She had not feared Whittington,
+but this woman was different. As if fascinated, she watched the long
+cruel line of the red curving mouth, and again she felt that sensation
+of panic pass over her. Her usual self-confidence deserted her. Vaguely
+she felt that deceiving this woman would be very different to deceiving
+Whittington. Mr. Carter’s warning recurred to her mind. Here, indeed,
+she might expect no mercy.
+
+Fighting down that instinct of panic which urged her to turn tail and
+run without further delay, Tuppence returned the lady’s gaze firmly and
+respectfully.
+
+As though that first scrutiny had been satisfactory, Mrs. Vandemeyer
+motioned to a chair.
+
+“You can sit down. How did you hear I wanted a house-parlourmaid?”
+
+“Through a friend who knows the lift boy here. He thought the place
+might suit me.”
+
+Again that basilisk glance seemed to pierce her through.
+
+“You speak like an educated girl?”
+
+Glibly enough, Tuppence ran through her imaginary career on the lines
+suggested by Mr. Carter. It seemed to her, as she did so, that the
+tension of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s attitude relaxed.
+
+“I see,” she remarked at length. “Is there anyone I can write to for a
+reference?”
+
+“I lived last with a Miss Dufferin, The Parsonage, Llanelly. I was with
+her two years.”
+
+“And then you thought you would get more money by coming to London,
+I suppose? Well, it doesn’t matter to me. I will give you
+£50--£60--whatever you want. You can come in at once?”
+
+“Yes, ma’am. To-day, if you like. My box is at Paddington.”
+
+“Go and fetch it in a taxi, then. It’s an easy place. I am out a good
+deal. By the way, what’s your name?”
+
+“Prudence Cooper, ma’am.”
+
+“Very well, Prudence. Go away and fetch your box. I shall be out to
+lunch. The cook will show you where everything is.”
+
+“Thank you, ma’am.”
+
+Tuppence withdrew. The smart Annie was not in evidence. In the hall
+below a magnificent hall porter had relegated Albert to the background.
+Tuppence did not even glance at him as she passed meekly out.
+
+The adventure had begun, but she felt less elated than she had done
+earlier in the morning. It crossed her mind that if the unknown Jane
+Finn had fallen into the hands of Mrs. Vandemeyer, it was likely to have
+gone hard with her.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. ENTER SIR JAMES PEEL EDGERTON
+
+TUPPENCE betrayed no awkwardness in her new duties. The daughters of the
+archdeacon were well grounded in household tasks. They were also experts
+in training a “raw girl,” the inevitable result being that the raw girl,
+once trained, departed elsewhere where her newly acquired knowledge
+commanded a more substantial remuneration than the archdeacon’s meagre
+purse allowed.
+
+Tuppence had therefore very little fear of proving inefficient. Mrs.
+Vandemeyer’s cook puzzled her. She evidently went in deadly terror of
+her mistress. The girl thought it probable that the other woman had some
+hold over her. For the rest, she cooked like a _chef_, as Tuppence had
+an opportunity of judging that evening. Mrs. Vandemeyer was expecting a
+guest to dinner, and Tuppence accordingly laid the beautifully polished
+table for two. She was a little exercised in her own mind as to this
+visitor. It was highly possible that it might prove to be Whittington.
+Although she felt fairly confident that he would not recognize her, yet
+she would have been better pleased had the guest proved to be a total
+stranger. However, there was nothing for it but to hope for the best.
+
+At a few minutes past eight the front door bell rang, and Tuppence went
+to answer it with some inward trepidation. She was relieved to see that
+the visitor was the second of the two men whom Tommy had taken upon
+himself to follow.
+
+He gave his name as Count Stepanov. Tuppence announced him, and Mrs.
+Vandemeyer rose from her seat on a low divan with a quick murmur of
+pleasure.
+
+“It is delightful to see you, Boris Ivanovitch,” she said.
+
+“And you, madame!” He bowed low over her hand.
+
+Tuppence returned to the kitchen.
+
+“Count Stepanov, or some such,” she remarked, and affecting a frank and
+unvarnished curiosity: “Who’s he?”
+
+“A Russian gentleman, I believe.”
+
+“Come here much?”
+
+“Once in a while. What d’you want to know for?”
+
+“Fancied he might be sweet on the missus, that’s all,” explained the
+girl, adding with an appearance of sulkiness: “How you do take one up!”
+
+“I’m not quite easy in my mind about the _soufflé_,” explained the
+other.
+
+“You know something,” thought Tuppence to herself, but aloud she only
+said: “Going to dish up now? Right-o.”
+
+Whilst waiting at table, Tuppence listened closely to all that was said.
+She remembered that this was one of the men Tommy was shadowing when she
+had last seen him. Already, although she would hardly admit it, she was
+becoming uneasy about her partner. Where was he? Why had no word of any
+kind come from him? She had arranged before leaving the _Ritz_ to have
+all letters or messages sent on at once by special messenger to a small
+stationer’s shop near at hand where Albert was to call in frequently.
+True, it was only yesterday morning that she had parted from Tommy, and
+she told herself that any anxiety on his behalf would be absurd. Still,
+it was strange that he had sent no word of any kind.
+
+But, listen as she might, the conversation presented no clue. Boris and
+Mrs. Vandemeyer talked on purely indifferent subjects: plays they had
+seen, new dances, and the latest society gossip. After dinner they
+repaired to the small boudoir where Mrs. Vandemeyer, stretched on the
+divan, looked more wickedly beautiful than ever. Tuppence brought in the
+coffee and liqueurs and unwillingly retired. As she did so, she heard
+Boris say:
+
+“New, isn’t she?”
+
+“She came in to-day. The other was a fiend. This girl seems all right.
+She waits well.”
+
+Tuppence lingered a moment longer by the door which she had carefully
+neglected to close, and heard him say:
+
+“Quite safe, I suppose?”
+
+“Really, Boris, you are absurdly suspicious. I believe she’s the cousin
+of the hall porter, or something of the kind. And nobody even dreams
+that I have any connection with our--mutual friend, Mr. Brown.”
+
+“For heaven’s sake, be careful, Rita. That door isn’t shut.”
+
+“Well, shut it then,” laughed the woman.
+
+Tuppence removed herself speedily.
+
+She dared not absent herself longer from the back premises, but she
+cleared away and washed up with a breathless speed acquired in hospital.
+Then she slipped quietly back to the boudoir door. The cook, more
+leisurely, was still busy in the kitchen and, if she missed the other,
+would only suppose her to be turning down the beds.
+
+Alas! The conversation inside was being carried on in too low a tone
+to permit of her hearing anything of it. She dared not reopen the
+door, however gently. Mrs. Vandemeyer was sitting almost facing it, and
+Tuppence respected her mistress’s lynx-eyed powers of observation.
+
+Nevertheless, she felt she would give a good deal to overhear what was
+going on. Possibly, if anything unforeseen had happened, she might get
+news of Tommy. For some moments she reflected desperately, then her
+face brightened. She went quickly along the passage to Mrs. Vandemeyer’s
+bedroom, which had long French windows leading on to a balcony that ran
+the length of the flat. Slipping quickly through the window, Tuppence
+crept noiselessly along till she reached the boudoir window. As she
+had thought it stood a little ajar, and the voices within were plainly
+audible.
+
+Tuppence listened attentively, but there was no mention of anything
+that could be twisted to apply to Tommy. Mrs. Vandemeyer and the Russian
+seemed to be at variance over some matter, and finally the latter
+exclaimed bitterly:
+
+“With your persistent recklessness, you will end by ruining us!”
+
+“Bah!” laughed the woman. “Notoriety of the right kind is the best way
+of disarming suspicion. You will realize that one of these days--perhaps
+sooner than you think!”
+
+“In the meantime, you are going about everywhere with Peel Edgerton.
+Not only is he, perhaps, the most celebrated K.C. in England, but his
+special hobby is criminology! It is madness!”
+
+“I know that his eloquence has saved untold men from the gallows,” said
+Mrs. Vandemeyer calmly. “What of it? I may need his assistance in that
+line myself some day. If so, how fortunate to have such a friend at
+court--or perhaps it would be more to the point to say _in_ court.”
+
+Boris got up and began striding up and down. He was very excited.
+
+“You are a clever woman, Rita; but you are also a fool! Be guided by me,
+and give up Peel Edgerton.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer shook her head gently.
+
+“I think not.”
+
+“You refuse?” There was an ugly ring in the Russian’s voice.
+
+“I do.”
+
+“Then, by Heaven,” snarled the Russian, “we will see----”
+
+But Mrs. Vandemeyer also rose to her feet, her eyes flashing.
+
+“You forget, Boris,” she said. “I am accountable to no one. I take my
+orders only from--Mr. Brown.”
+
+The other threw up his hands in despair.
+
+“You are impossible,” he muttered. “Impossible! Already it may be too
+late. They say Peel Edgerton can _smell_ a criminal! How do we know what
+is at the bottom of his sudden interest in you? Perhaps even now his
+suspicions are aroused. He guesses----”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer eyed him scornfully.
+
+“Reassure yourself, my dear Boris. He suspects nothing. With less than
+your usual chivalry, you seem to forget that I am commonly accounted a
+beautiful woman. I assure you that is all that interests Peel Edgerton.”
+
+Boris shook his head doubtfully.
+
+“He has studied crime as no other man in this kingdom has studied it. Do
+you fancy that you can deceive him?”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes narrowed.
+
+“If he is all that you say--it would amuse me to try!”
+
+“Good heavens, Rita----”
+
+“Besides,” added Mrs. Vandemeyer, “he is extremely rich. I am not one
+who despises money. The ‘sinews of war,’ you know, Boris!”
+
+“Money--money! That is always the danger with you, Rita. I believe you
+would sell your soul for money. I believe----” He paused, then in a
+low, sinister voice he said slowly: “Sometimes I believe that you would
+sell-- _us!_”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“The price, at any rate, would have to be enormous,” she said lightly.
+“It would be beyond the power of anyone but a millionaire to pay.”
+
+“Ah!” snarled the Russian. “You see, I was right!”
+
+“My dear Boris, can you not take a joke?”
+
+“Was it a joke?”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“Then all I can say is that your ideas of humour are peculiar, my dear
+Rita.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer smiled.
+
+“Let us not quarrel, Boris. Touch the bell. We will have some drinks.”
+
+Tuppence beat a hasty retreat. She paused a moment to survey herself in
+Mrs. Vandemeyer’s long glass, and be sure that nothing was amiss with
+her appearance. Then she answered the bell demurely.
+
+The conversation that she had overheard, although interesting in that
+it proved beyond doubt the complicity of both Rita and Boris, threw very
+little light on the present preoccupations. The name of Jane Finn had
+not even been mentioned.
+
+The following morning a few brief words with Albert informed her that
+nothing was waiting for her at the stationer’s. It seemed incredible
+that Tommy, if all was well with him, should not send any word to her.
+A cold hand seemed to close round her heart.... Supposing.... She choked
+her fears down bravely. It was no good worrying. But she leapt at a
+chance offered her by Mrs. Vandemeyer.
+
+“What day do you usually go out, Prudence?”
+
+“Friday’s my usual day, ma’am.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer lifted her eyebrows.
+
+“And to-day is Friday! But I suppose you hardly wish to go out to-day,
+as you only came yesterday.”
+
+“I was thinking of asking you if I might, ma’am.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer looked at her a minute longer, and then smiled.
+
+“I wish Count Stepanov could hear you. He made a suggestion about
+you last night.” Her smile broadened, catlike. “Your request is
+very--typical. I am satisfied. You do not understand all this--but
+you can go out to-day. It makes no difference to me, as I shall not be
+dining at home.”
+
+“Thank you, ma’am.”
+
+Tuppence felt a sensation of relief once she was out of the other’s
+presence. Once again she admitted to herself that she was afraid,
+horribly afraid, of the beautiful woman with the cruel eyes.
+
+In the midst of a final desultory polishing of her silver, Tuppence was
+disturbed by the ringing of the front door bell, and went to answer it.
+This time the visitor was neither Whittington nor Boris, but a man of
+striking appearance.
+
+Just a shade over average height, he nevertheless conveyed the
+impression of a big man. His face, clean-shaven and exquisitely mobile,
+was stamped with an expression of power and force far beyond the
+ordinary. Magnetism seemed to radiate from him.
+
+Tuppence was undecided for the moment whether to put him down as an
+actor or a lawyer, but her doubts were soon solved as he gave her his
+name: Sir James Peel Edgerton.
+
+She looked at him with renewed interest. This, then, was the famous K.C.
+whose name was familiar all over England. She had heard it said that he
+might one day be Prime Minister. He was known to have refused office in
+the interests of his profession, preferring to remain a simple Member
+for a Scotch constituency.
+
+Tuppence went back to her pantry thoughtfully. The great man had
+impressed her. She understood Boris’s agitation. Peel Edgerton would not
+be an easy man to deceive.
+
+In about a quarter of an hour the bell rang, and Tuppence repaired to
+the hall to show the visitor out. He had given her a piercing glance
+before. Now, as she handed him his hat and stick, she was conscious of
+his eyes raking her through. As she opened the door and stood aside to
+let him pass out, he stopped in the doorway.
+
+“Not been doing this long, eh?”
+
+Tuppence raised her eyes, astonished. She read in his glance kindliness,
+and something else more difficult to fathom.
+
+He nodded as though she had answered.
+
+“V.A.D. and hard up, I suppose?”
+
+“Did Mrs. Vandemeyer tell you that?” asked Tuppence suspiciously.
+
+“No, child. The look of you told me. Good place here?”
+
+“Very good, thank you, sir.”
+
+“Ah, but there are plenty of good places nowadays. And a change does no
+harm sometimes.”
+
+“Do you mean----?” began Tuppence.
+
+But Sir James was already on the topmost stair. He looked back with his
+kindly, shrewd glance.
+
+“Just a hint,” he said. “That’s all.”
+
+Tuppence went back to the pantry more thoughtful than ever.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. JULIUS TELLS A STORY
+
+DRESSED appropriately, Tuppence duly sallied forth for her “afternoon
+out.” Albert was in temporary abeyance, but Tuppence went herself to the
+stationer’s to make quite sure that nothing had come for her. Satisfied
+on this point, she made her way to the _Ritz_. On inquiry she learnt
+that Tommy had not yet returned. It was the answer she had expected, but
+it was another nail in the coffin of her hopes. She resolved to appeal
+to Mr. Carter, telling him when and where Tommy had started on his
+quest, and asking him to do something to trace him. The prospect of
+his aid revived her mercurial spirits, and she next inquired for Julius
+Hersheimmer. The reply she got was to the effect that he had returned
+about half an hour ago, but had gone out immediately.
+
+Tuppence’s spirits revived still more. It would be something to see
+Julius. Perhaps he could devise some plan for finding out what
+had become of Tommy. She wrote her note to Mr. Carter in Julius’s
+sitting-room, and was just addressing the envelope when the door burst
+open.
+
+“What the hell----” began Julius, but checked himself abruptly. “I beg
+your pardon, Miss Tuppence. Those fools down at the office would have it
+that Beresford wasn’t here any longer--hadn’t been here since Wednesday.
+Is that so?”
+
+Tuppence nodded.
+
+“You don’t know where he is?” she asked faintly.
+
+“I? How should I know? I haven’t had one darned word from him, though I
+wired him yesterday morning.”
+
+“I expect your wire’s at the office unopened.”
+
+“But where is he?”
+
+“I don’t know. I hoped you might.”
+
+“I tell you I haven’t had one darned word from him since we parted at
+the depot on Wednesday.”
+
+“What depot?”
+
+“Waterloo. Your London and South Western road.”
+
+“Waterloo?” frowned Tuppence.
+
+“Why, yes. Didn’t he tell you?”
+
+“I haven’t seen him either,” replied Tuppence impatiently. “Go on about
+Waterloo. What were you doing there?”
+
+“He gave me a call. Over the phone. Told me to get a move on, and
+hustle. Said he was trailing two crooks.”
+
+“Oh!” said Tuppence, her eyes opening. “I see. Go on.”
+
+“I hurried along right away. Beresford was there. He pointed out the
+crooks. The big one was mine, the guy you bluffed. Tommy shoved a ticket
+into my hand and told me to get aboard the cars. He was going to sleuth
+the other crook.” Julius paused. “I thought for sure you’d know all
+this.”
+
+“Julius,” said Tuppence firmly, “stop walking up and down. It makes me
+giddy. Sit down in that armchair, and tell me the whole story with as
+few fancy turns of speech as possible.”
+
+Mr. Hersheimmer obeyed.
+
+“Sure,” he said. “Where shall I begin?”
+
+“Where you left off. At Waterloo.”
+
+“Well,” began Julius, “I got into one of your dear old-fashioned
+first-class British compartments. The train was just off. First thing I
+knew a guard came along and informed me mighty politely that I wasn’t
+in a smoking-carriage. I handed him out half a dollar, and that settled
+that. I did a bit of prospecting along the corridor to the next coach.
+Whittington was there right enough. When I saw the skunk, with his big
+sleek fat face, and thought of poor little Jane in his clutches, I felt
+real mad that I hadn’t got a gun with me. I’d have tickled him up some.
+
+“We got to Bournemouth all right. Whittington took a cab and gave the
+name of an hotel. I did likewise, and we drove up within three minutes
+of each other. He hired a room, and I hired one too. So far it was all
+plain sailing. He hadn’t the remotest notion that anyone was on to him.
+Well, he just sat around in the hotel lounge, reading the papers and so
+on, till it was time for dinner. He didn’t hurry any over that either.
+
+“I began to think that there was nothing doing, that he’d just come on
+the trip for his health, but I remembered that he hadn’t changed for
+dinner, though it was by way of being a slap-up hotel, so it seemed
+likely enough that he’d be going out on his real business afterwards.
+
+“Sure enough, about nine o’clock, so he did. Took a car across the
+town--mighty pretty place by the way, I guess I’ll take Jane there for
+a spell when I find her--and then paid it off and struck out along those
+pine-woods on the top of the cliff. I was there too, you understand.
+We walked, maybe, for half an hour. There’s a lot of villas all the way
+along, but by degrees they seemed to get more and more thinned out, and
+in the end we got to one that seemed the last of the bunch. Big house it
+was, with a lot of piny grounds around it.
+
+“It was a pretty black night, and the carriage drive up to the house was
+dark as pitch. I could hear him ahead, though I couldn’t see him. I
+had to walk carefully in case he might get on to it that he was being
+followed. I turned a curve and I was just in time to see him ring the
+bell and get admitted to the house. I just stopped where I was. It was
+beginning to rain, and I was soon pretty near soaked through. Also, it
+was almighty cold.
+
+“Whittington didn’t come out again, and by and by I got kind of restive,
+and began to mouch around. All the ground floor windows were shuttered
+tight, but upstairs, on the first floor (it was a two-storied house) I
+noticed a window with a light burning and the curtains not drawn.
+
+“Now, just opposite to that window, there was a tree growing. It was
+about thirty foot away from the house, maybe, and I sort of got it into
+my head that, if I climbed up that tree, I’d very likely be able to see
+into that room. Of course, I knew there was no reason why Whittington
+should be in that room rather than in any other--less reason, in fact,
+for the betting would be on his being in one of the reception-rooms
+downstairs. But I guess I’d got the hump from standing so long in the
+rain, and anything seemed better than going on doing nothing. So I
+started up.
+
+“It wasn’t so easy, by a long chalk! The rain had made the boughs mighty
+slippery, and it was all I could do to keep a foothold, but bit by bit I
+managed it, until at last there I was level with the window.
+
+“But then I was disappointed. I was too far to the left. I could only
+see sideways into the room. A bit of curtain, and a yard of wallpaper
+was all I could command. Well, that wasn’t any manner of good to me, but
+just as I was going to give it up, and climb down ignominiously, some
+one inside moved and threw his shadow on my little bit of wall--and, by
+gum, it was Whittington!
+
+“After that, my blood was up. I’d just _got_ to get a look into that
+room. It was up to me to figure out how. I noticed that there was a long
+branch running out from the tree in the right direction. If I could only
+swarm about half-way along it, the proposition would be solved. But it
+was mighty uncertain whether it would bear my weight. I decided I’d
+just got to risk that, and I started. Very cautiously, inch by inch, I
+crawled along. The bough creaked and swayed in a nasty fashion, and it
+didn’t do to think of the drop below, but at last I got safely to where
+I wanted to be.
+
+“The room was medium-sized, furnished in a kind of bare hygienic way.
+There was a table with a lamp on it in the middle of the room, and
+sitting at that table, facing towards me, was Whittington right enough.
+He was talking to a woman dressed as a hospital nurse. She was sitting
+with her back to me, so I couldn’t see her face. Although the blinds
+were up, the window itself was shut, so I couldn’t catch a word of what
+they said. Whittington seemed to be doing all the talking, and the nurse
+just listened. Now and then she nodded, and sometimes she’d shake
+her head, as though she were answering questions. He seemed very
+emphatic--once or twice he beat with his fist on the table. The rain had
+stopped now, and the sky was clearing in that sudden way it does.
+
+“Presently, he seemed to get to the end of what he was saying. He got
+up, and so did she. He looked towards the window and asked something--I
+guess it was whether it was raining. Anyway, she came right across and
+looked out. Just then the moon came out from behind the clouds. I
+was scared the woman would catch sight of me, for I was full in the
+moonlight. I tried to move back a bit. The jerk I gave was too much for
+that rotten old branch. With an almighty crash, down it came, and Julius
+P. Hersheimmer with it!”
+
+“Oh, Julius,” breathed Tuppence, “how exciting! Go on.”
+
+“Well, luckily for me, I pitched down into a good soft bed of earth--but
+it put me out of action for the time, sure enough. The next thing I
+knew, I was lying in bed with a hospital nurse (not Whittington’s one)
+on one side of me, and a little black-bearded man with gold glasses,
+and medical man written all over him, on the other. He rubbed his hands
+together, and raised his eyebrows as I stared at him. ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘So
+our young friend is coming round again. Capital. Capital.’
+
+“I did the usual stunt. Said: ‘What’s happened?’ And ‘Where am I?’ But
+I knew the answer to the last well enough. There’s no moss growing on
+my brain. ‘I think that’ll do for the present, sister,’ said the little
+man, and the nurse left the room in a sort of brisk well-trained way.
+But I caught her handing me out a look of deep curiosity as she passed
+through the door.
+
+“That look of hers gave me an idea. ‘Now then, doc,’ I said, and tried
+to sit up in bed, but my right foot gave me a nasty twinge as I did so.
+‘A slight sprain,’ explained the doctor. ‘Nothing serious. You’ll be
+about again in a couple of days.’”
+
+“I noticed you walked lame,” interpolated Tuppence.
+
+Julius nodded, and continued:
+
+“‘How did it happen?’ I asked again. He replied dryly. ‘You fell, with
+a considerable portion of one of my trees, into one of my newly planted
+flower-beds.’
+
+“I liked the man. He seemed to have a sense of humour. I felt sure that
+he, at least, was plumb straight. ‘Sure, doc,’ I said, ‘I’m sorry about
+the tree, and I guess the new bulbs will be on me. But perhaps you’d
+like to know what I was doing in your garden?’ ‘I think the facts do
+call for an explanation,’ he replied. ‘Well, to begin with, I wasn’t
+after the spoons.’
+
+“He smiled. ‘My first theory. But I soon altered my mind. By the way,
+you are an American, are you not?’ I told him my name. ‘And you?’ ‘I am
+Dr. Hall, and this, as you doubtless know, is my private nursing home.’
+
+“I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to put him wise. I was just thankful
+for the information. I liked the man, and I felt he was straight, but
+I wasn’t going to give him the whole story. For one thing he probably
+wouldn’t have believed it.
+
+“I made up my mind in a flash. ‘Why, doctor,’ I said, ‘I guess I feel
+an almighty fool, but I owe it to you to let you know that it wasn’t
+the Bill Sikes business I was up to.’ Then I went on and mumbled out
+something about a girl. I trotted out the stern guardian business, and a
+nervous breakdown, and finally explained that I had fancied I recognized
+her among the patients at the home, hence my nocturnal adventures. I
+guess it was just the kind of story he was expecting. ‘Quite a romance,’
+he said genially, when I’d finished. ‘Now, doc,’ I went on, ‘will you
+be frank with me? Have you here now, or have you had here at any time,
+a young girl called Jane Finn?’ He repeated the name thoughtfully. ‘Jane
+Finn?’ he said. ‘No.’
+
+“I was chagrined, and I guess I showed it. ‘You are sure?’ ‘Quite sure,
+Mr. Hersheimmer. It is an uncommon name, and I should not have been
+likely to forget it.’
+
+“Well, that was flat. It laid me out for a space. I’d kind of hoped
+my search was at an end. ‘That’s that,’ I said at last. ‘Now, there’s
+another matter. When I was hugging that darned branch I thought I
+recognized an old friend of mine talking to one of your nurses.’ I
+purposely didn’t mention any name because, of course, Whittington might
+be calling himself something quite different down here, but the doctor
+answered at once. ‘Mr. Whittington, perhaps?’ ‘That’s the fellow,’ I
+replied. ‘What’s he doing down here? Don’t tell me _his_ nerves are out
+of order?’
+
+“Dr. Hall laughed. ‘No. He came down to see one of my nurses, Nurse
+Edith, who is a niece of his.’ ‘Why, fancy that!’ I exclaimed. ‘Is he
+still here?’ ‘No, he went back to town almost immediately.’ ‘What a
+pity!’ I ejaculated. ‘But perhaps I could speak to his niece--Nurse
+Edith, did you say her name was?’
+
+“But the doctor shook his head. ‘I’m afraid that, too, is impossible.
+Nurse Edith left with a patient to-night also.’ ‘I seem to be real
+unlucky,’ I remarked. ‘Have you Mr. Whittington’s address in town?
+I guess I’d like to look him up when I get back.’ ‘I don’t know his
+address. I can write to Nurse Edith for it if you like.’ I thanked him.
+‘Don’t say who it is wants it. I’d like to give him a little surprise.’
+
+“That was about all I could do for the moment. Of course, if the girl
+was really Whittington’s niece, she might be too cute to fall into the
+trap, but it was worth trying. Next thing I did was to write out a wire
+to Beresford saying where I was, and that I was laid up with a sprained
+foot, and telling him to come down if he wasn’t busy. I had to be
+guarded in what I said. However, I didn’t hear from him, and my foot
+soon got all right. It was only ricked, not really sprained, so to-day I
+said good-bye to the little doctor chap, asked him to send me word if
+he heard from Nurse Edith, and came right away back to town. Say, Miss
+Tuppence, you’re looking mighty pale!”
+
+“It’s Tommy,” said Tuppence. “What can have happened to him?”
+
+“Buck up, I guess he’s all right really. Why shouldn’t he be? See here,
+it was a foreign-looking guy he went off after. Maybe they’ve gone
+abroad--to Poland, or something like that?”
+
+Tuppence shook her head.
+
+“He couldn’t without passports and things. Besides I’ve seen that man,
+Boris Something, since. He dined with Mrs. Vandemeyer last night.”
+
+“Mrs. Who?”
+
+“I forgot. Of course you don’t know all that.”
+
+“I’m listening,” said Julius, and gave vent to his favourite expression.
+“Put me wise.”
+
+Tuppence thereupon related the events of the last two days. Julius’s
+astonishment and admiration were unbounded.
+
+“Bully for you! Fancy you a menial. It just tickles me to death!” Then
+he added seriously: “But say now, I don’t like it, Miss Tuppence, I sure
+don’t. You’re just as plucky as they make ‘em, but I wish you’d keep
+right out of this. These crooks we’re up against would as soon croak a
+girl as a man any day.”
+
+“Do you think I’m afraid?” said Tuppence indignantly, valiantly
+repressing memories of the steely glitter in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes.
+
+“I said before you were darned plucky. But that doesn’t alter facts.”
+
+“Oh, bother _me!_” said Tuppence impatiently. “Let’s think about what
+can have happened to Tommy. I’ve written to Mr. Carter about it,” she
+added, and told him the gist of her letter.
+
+Julius nodded gravely.
+
+“I guess that’s good as far as it goes. But it’s for us to get busy and
+do something.”
+
+“What can we do?” asked Tuppence, her spirits rising.
+
+“I guess we’d better get on the track of Boris. You say he’s been to
+your place. Is he likely to come again?”
+
+“He might. I really don’t know.”
+
+“I see. Well, I guess I’d better buy a car, a slap-up one, dress as a
+chauffeur and hang about outside. Then if Boris comes, you could make
+some kind of signal, and I’d trail him. How’s that?”
+
+“Splendid, but he mightn’t come for weeks.”
+
+“We’ll have to chance that. I’m glad you like the plan.” He rose.
+
+“Where are you going?”
+
+“To buy the car, of course,” replied Julius, surprised. “What make do
+you like? I guess you’ll do some riding in it before we’ve finished.”
+
+“Oh,” said Tuppence faintly, “I _like_ Rolls-Royces, but----”
+
+“Sure,” agreed Julius. “What you say goes. I’ll get one.”
+
+“But you can’t at once,” cried Tuppence. “People wait ages sometimes.”
+
+“Little Julius doesn’t,” affirmed Mr. Hersheimmer. “Don’t you worry any.
+I’ll be round in the car in half an hour.”
+
+Tuppence got up.
+
+“You’re awfully good, Julius. But I can’t help feeling that it’s rather
+a forlorn hope. I’m really pinning my faith to Mr. Carter.”
+
+“Then I shouldn’t.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Just an idea of mine.”
+
+“Oh; but he must do something. There’s no one else. By the way, I forgot
+to tell you of a queer thing that happened this morning.”
+
+And she narrated her encounter with Sir James Peel Edgerton. Julius was
+interested.
+
+“What did the guy mean, do you think?” he asked.
+
+“I don’t quite know,” said Tuppence meditatively. “But I think that, in
+an ambiguous, legal, without prejudishish lawyer’s way, he was trying to
+warn me.”
+
+“Why should he?”
+
+“I don’t know,” confessed Tuppence. “But he looked kind, and
+simply awfully clever. I wouldn’t mind going to him and telling him
+everything.”
+
+Somewhat to her surprise, Julius negatived the idea sharply.
+
+“See here,” he said, “we don’t want any lawyers mixed up in this. That
+guy couldn’t help us any.”
+
+“Well, I believe he could,” reiterated Tuppence obstinately.
+
+“Don’t you think it. So long. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
+
+Thirty-five minutes had elapsed when Julius returned. He took Tuppence
+by the arm, and walked her to the window.
+
+“There she is.”
+
+“Oh!” said Tuppence with a note of reverence in her voice, as she gazed
+down at the enormous car.
+
+“She’s some pace-maker, I can tell you,” said Julius complacently.
+
+“How did you get it?” gasped Tuppence.
+
+“She was just being sent home to some bigwig.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“I went round to his house,” said Julius. “I said that I reckoned a car
+like that was worth every penny of twenty thousand dollars. Then I told
+him that it was worth just about fifty thousand dollars to me if he’d
+get out.”
+
+“Well?” said Tuppence, intoxicated.
+
+“Well,” returned Julius, “he got out, that’s all.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. A FRIEND IN NEED
+
+FRIDAY and Saturday passed uneventfully. Tuppence had received a brief
+answer to her appeal from Mr. Carter. In it he pointed out that the
+Young Adventurers had undertaken the work at their own risk, and had
+been fully warned of the dangers. If anything had happened to Tommy he
+regretted it deeply, but he could do nothing.
+
+This was cold comfort. Somehow, without Tommy, all the savour went out
+of the adventure, and, for the first time, Tuppence felt doubtful of
+success. While they had been together she had never questioned it for
+a minute. Although she was accustomed to take the lead, and to pride
+herself on her quick-wittedness, in reality she had relied upon Tommy
+more than she realized at the time. There was something so eminently
+sober and clear-headed about him, his common sense and soundness of
+vision were so unvarying, that without him Tuppence felt much like a
+rudderless ship. It was curious that Julius, who was undoubtedly much
+cleverer than Tommy, did not give her the same feeling of support. She
+had accused Tommy of being a pessimist, and it is certain that he
+always saw the disadvantages and difficulties which she herself was
+optimistically given to overlooking, but nevertheless she had really
+relied a good deal on his judgment. He might be slow, but he was very
+sure.
+
+It seemed to the girl that, for the first time, she realized the
+sinister character of the mission they had undertaken so lightheartedly.
+It had begun like a page of romance. Now, shorn of its glamour, it
+seemed to be turning to grim reality. Tommy--that was all that mattered.
+Many times in the day Tuppence blinked the tears out of her eyes
+resolutely. “Little fool,” she would apostrophize herself, “don’t
+snivel. Of course you’re fond of him. You’ve known him all your life.
+But there’s no need to be sentimental about it.”
+
+In the meantime, nothing more was seen of Boris. He did not come to the
+flat, and Julius and the car waited in vain. Tuppence gave herself over
+to new meditations. Whilst admitting the truth of Julius’s objections,
+she had nevertheless not entirely relinquished the idea of appealing to
+Sir James Peel Edgerton. Indeed, she had gone so far as to look up his
+address in the _Red Book_. Had he meant to warn her that day? If so,
+why? Surely she was at least entitled to demand an explanation. He had
+looked at her so kindly. Perhaps he might tell them something concerning
+Mrs. Vandemeyer which might lead to a clue to Tommy’s whereabouts.
+
+Anyway, Tuppence decided, with her usual shake of the shoulders, it was
+worth trying, and try it she would. Sunday was her afternoon out. She
+would meet Julius, persuade him to her point of view, and they would
+beard the lion in his den.
+
+When the day arrived Julius needed a considerable amount of persuading,
+but Tuppence held firm. “It can do no harm,” was what she always came
+back to. In the end Julius gave in, and they proceeded in the car to
+Carlton House Terrace.
+
+The door was opened by an irreproachable butler. Tuppence felt a little
+nervous. After all, perhaps it _was_ colossal cheek on her part. She
+had decided not to ask if Sir James was “at home,” but to adopt a more
+personal attitude.
+
+“Will you ask Sir James if I can see him for a few minutes? I have an
+important message for him.”
+
+The butler retired, returning a moment or two later.
+
+“Sir James will see you. Will you step this way?”
+
+He ushered them into a room at the back of the house, furnished as a
+library. The collection of books was a magnificent one, and Tuppence
+noticed that all one wall was devoted to works on crime and criminology.
+There were several deep-padded leather arm-chairs, and an old-fashioned
+open hearth. In the window was a big roll-top desk strewn with papers at
+which the master of the house was sitting.
+
+He rose as they entered.
+
+“You have a message for me? Ah”--he recognized Tuppence with a
+smile--“it’s you, is it? Brought a message from Mrs. Vandemeyer, I
+suppose?”
+
+“Not exactly,” said Tuppence. “In fact, I’m afraid I only said that to
+be quite sure of getting in. Oh, by the way, this is Mr. Hersheimmer,
+Sir James Peel Edgerton.”
+
+“Pleased to meet you,” said the American, shooting out a hand.
+
+“Won’t you both sit down?” asked Sir James. He drew forward two chairs.
+
+“Sir James,” said Tuppence, plunging boldly, “I dare say you will think
+it is most awful cheek of me coming here like this. Because, of course,
+it’s nothing whatever to do with you, and then you’re a very important
+person, and of course Tommy and I are very unimportant.” She paused for
+breath.
+
+“Tommy?” queried Sir James, looking across at the American.
+
+“No, that’s Julius,” explained Tuppence. “I’m rather nervous, and that
+makes me tell it badly. What I really want to know is what you meant by
+what you said to me the other day? Did you mean to warn me against Mrs.
+Vandemeyer? You did, didn’t you?”
+
+“My dear young lady, as far as I recollect I only mentioned that there
+were equally good situations to be obtained elsewhere.”
+
+“Yes, I know. But it was a hint, wasn’t it?”
+
+“Well, perhaps it was,” admitted Sir James gravely.
+
+“Well, I want to know more. I want to know just _why_ you gave me a
+hint.”
+
+Sir James smiled at her earnestness.
+
+“Suppose the lady brings a libel action against me for defamation of
+character?”
+
+“Of course,” said Tuppence. “I know lawyers are always dreadfully
+careful. But can’t we say ‘without prejudice’ first, and then say just
+what we want to.”
+
+“Well,” said Sir James, still smiling, “without prejudice, then, if I
+had a young sister forced to earn her living, I should not like to see
+her in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s service. I felt it incumbent on me just to give
+you a hint. It is no place for a young and inexperienced girl. That is
+all I can tell you.”
+
+“I see,” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “Thank you very much. But I’m not
+_really_ inexperienced, you know. I knew perfectly that she was a bad
+lot when I went there--as a matter of fact that’s _why_ I went----” She
+broke off, seeing some bewilderment on the lawyer’s face, and went on:
+“I think perhaps I’d better tell you the whole story, Sir James. I’ve a
+sort of feeling that you’d know in a minute if I didn’t tell the truth,
+and so you might as well know all about it from the beginning. What do
+you think, Julius?”
+
+“As you’re bent on it, I’d go right ahead with the facts,” replied the
+American, who had so far sat in silence.
+
+“Yes, tell me all about it,” said Sir James. “I want to know who Tommy
+is.”
+
+Thus encouraged Tuppence plunged into her tale, and the lawyer listened
+with close attention.
+
+“Very interesting,” he said, when she finished. “A great deal of what
+you tell me, child, is already known to me. I’ve had certain theories
+of my own about this Jane Finn. You’ve done extraordinarily well so
+far, but it’s rather too bad of--what do you know him as?--Mr. Carter to
+pitchfork you two young things into an affair of this kind. By the
+way, where did Mr. Hersheimmer come in originally? You didn’t make that
+clear?”
+
+Julius answered for himself.
+
+“I’m Jane’s first cousin,” he explained, returning the lawyer’s keen
+gaze.
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“Oh, Sir James,” broke out Tuppence, “what do you think has become of
+Tommy?”
+
+“H’m.” The lawyer rose, and paced slowly up and down. “When you arrived,
+young lady, I was just packing up my traps. Going to Scotland by the
+night train for a few days’ fishing. But there are different kinds of
+fishing. I’ve a good mind to stay, and see if we can’t get on the track
+of that young chap.”
+
+“Oh!” Tuppence clasped her hands ecstatically.
+
+“All the same, as I said before, it’s too bad of--of Carter to set you
+two babies on a job like this. Now, don’t get offended, Miss--er----”
+
+“Cowley. Prudence Cowley. But my friends call me Tuppence.”
+
+“Well, Miss Tuppence, then, as I’m certainly going to be a friend. Don’t
+be offended because I think you’re young. Youth is a failing only too
+easily outgrown. Now, about this young Tommy of yours----”
+
+“Yes.” Tuppence clasped her hands.
+
+“Frankly, things look bad for him. He’s been butting in somewhere where
+he wasn’t wanted. Not a doubt of it. But don’t give up hope.”
+
+“And you really will help us? There, Julius! He didn’t want me to come,”
+ she added by way of explanation.
+
+“H’m,” said the lawyer, favouring Julius with another keen glance. “And
+why was that?”
+
+“I reckoned it would be no good worrying you with a petty little
+business like this.”
+
+“I see.” He paused a moment. “This petty little business, as you call
+it, bears directly on a very big business, bigger perhaps than either
+you or Miss Tuppence know. If this boy is alive, he may have very
+valuable information to give us. Therefore, we must find him.”
+
+“Yes, but how?” cried Tuppence. “I’ve tried to think of everything.”
+
+Sir James smiled.
+
+“And yet there’s one person quite near at hand who in all probability
+knows where he is, or at all events where he is likely to be.”
+
+“Who is that?” asked Tuppence, puzzled.
+
+“Mrs. Vandemeyer.”
+
+“Yes, but she’d never tell us.”
+
+“Ah, that is where I come in. I think it quite likely that I shall be
+able to make Mrs. Vandemeyer tell me what I want to know.”
+
+“How?” demanded Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide.
+
+“Oh, just by asking her questions,” replied Sir James easily. “That’s
+the way we do it, you know.”
+
+He tapped with his finger on the table, and Tuppence felt again the
+intense power that radiated from the man.
+
+“And if she won’t tell?” asked Julius suddenly.
+
+“I think she will. I have one or two powerful levers. Still, in that
+unlikely event, there is always the possibility of bribery.”
+
+“Sure. And that’s where I come in!” cried Julius, bringing his fist down
+on the table with a bang. “You can count on me, if necessary, for one
+million dollars. Yes, sir, one million dollars!”
+
+Sir James sat down and subjected Julius to a long scrutiny.
+
+“Mr. Hersheimmer,” he said at last, “that is a very large sum.”
+
+“I guess it’ll have to be. These aren’t the kind of folk to offer
+sixpence to.”
+
+“At the present rate of exchange it amounts to considerably over two
+hundred and fifty thousand pounds.”
+
+“That’s so. Maybe you think I’m talking through my hat, but I can
+deliver the goods all right, with enough over to spare for your fee.”
+
+Sir James flushed slightly.
+
+“There is no question of a fee, Mr. Hersheimmer. I am not a private
+detective.”
+
+“Sorry. I guess I was just a mite hasty, but I’ve been feeling bad about
+this money question. I wanted to offer a big reward for news of Jane
+some days ago, but your crusted institution of Scotland Yard advised me
+against it. Said it was undesirable.”
+
+“They were probably right,” said Sir James dryly.
+
+“But it’s all O.K. about Julius,” put in Tuppence. “He’s not pulling
+your leg. He’s got simply pots of money.”
+
+“The old man piled it up in style,” explained Julius. “Now, let’s get
+down to it. What’s your idea?”
+
+Sir James considered for a moment or two.
+
+“There is no time to be lost. The sooner we strike the better.” He
+turned to Tuppence. “Is Mrs. Vandemeyer dining out to-night, do you
+know?”
+
+“Yes, I think so, but she will not be out late. Otherwise, she would
+have taken the latchkey.”
+
+“Good. I will call upon her about ten o’clock. What time are you
+supposed to return?”
+
+“About nine-thirty or ten, but I could go back earlier.”
+
+“You must not do that on any account. It might arouse suspicion if you
+did not stay out till the usual time. Be back by nine-thirty. I will
+arrive at ten. Mr. Hersheimmer will wait below in a taxi perhaps.”
+
+“He’s got a new Rolls-Royce car,” said Tuppence with vicarious pride.
+
+“Even better. If I succeed in obtaining the address from her, we can
+go there at once, taking Mrs. Vandemeyer with us if necessary. You
+understand?”
+
+“Yes.” Tuppence rose to her feet with a skip of delight. “Oh, I feel so
+much better!”
+
+“Don’t build on it too much, Miss Tuppence. Go easy.”
+
+Julius turned to the lawyer.
+
+“Say, then. I’ll call for you in the car round about nine-thirty. Is
+that right?”
+
+“Perhaps that will be the best plan. It would be unnecessary to have two
+cars waiting about. Now, Miss Tuppence, my advice to you is to go and
+have a good dinner, a _really_ good one, mind. And don’t think ahead
+more than you can help.”
+
+He shook hands with them both, and a moment later they were outside.
+
+“Isn’t he a duck?” inquired Tuppence ecstatically, as she skipped down
+the steps. “Oh, Julius, isn’t he just a duck?”
+
+“Well, I allow he seems to be the goods all right. And I was wrong about
+its being useless to go to him. Say, shall we go right away back to the
+_Ritz?_”
+
+“I must walk a bit, I think. I feel so excited. Drop me in the park,
+will you? Unless you’d like to come too?”
+
+“I want to get some petrol,” he explained. “And send off a cable or
+two.”
+
+“All right. I’ll meet you at the _Ritz_ at seven. We’ll have to dine
+upstairs. I can’t show myself in these glad rags.”
+
+“Sure. I’ll get Felix help me choose the menu. He’s some head waiter,
+that. So long.”
+
+Tuppence walked briskly along towards the Serpentine, first glancing at
+her watch. It was nearly six o’clock. She remembered that she had had no
+tea, but felt too excited to be conscious of hunger. She walked as
+far as Kensington Gardens and then slowly retraced her steps, feeling
+infinitely better for the fresh air and exercise. It was not so easy to
+follow Sir James’s advice, and put the possible events of the evening
+out of her head. As she drew nearer and nearer to Hyde Park corner, the
+temptation to return to South Audley Mansions was almost irresistible.
+
+At any rate, she decided, it would do no harm just to go and _look_
+at the building. Perhaps, then, she could resign herself to waiting
+patiently for ten o’clock.
+
+South Audley Mansions looked exactly the same as usual. What Tuppence
+had expected she hardly knew, but the sight of its red brick stolidity
+slightly assuaged the growing and entirely unreasonable uneasiness
+that possessed her. She was just turning away when she heard a piercing
+whistle, and the faithful Albert came running from the building to join
+her.
+
+Tuppence frowned. It was no part of the programme to have attention
+called to her presence in the neighbourhood, but Albert was purple with
+suppressed excitement.
+
+“I say, miss, she’s a-going!”
+
+“Who’s going?” demanded Tuppence sharply.
+
+“The crook. Ready Rita. Mrs. Vandemeyer. She’s a-packing up, and she’s
+just sent down word for me to get her a taxi.”
+
+“What?” Tuppence clutched his arm.
+
+“It’s the truth, miss. I thought maybe as you didn’t know about it.”
+
+“Albert,” cried Tuppence, “you’re a brick. If it hadn’t been for you
+we’d have lost her.”
+
+Albert flushed with pleasure at this tribute.
+
+“There’s no time to lose,” said Tuppence, crossing the road. “I’ve got
+to stop her. At all costs I must keep her here until----” She broke off.
+“Albert, there’s a telephone here, isn’t there?”
+
+The boy shook his head.
+
+“The flats mostly have their own, miss. But there’s a box just round the
+corner.”
+
+“Go to it then, at once, and ring up the _Ritz Hotel_. Ask for Mr.
+Hersheimmer, and when you get him tell him to get Sir James and come on
+at once, as Mrs. Vandemeyer is trying to hook it. If you can’t get him,
+ring up Sir James Peel Edgerton, you’ll find his number in the book, and
+tell him what’s happening. You won’t forget the names, will you?”
+
+Albert repeated them glibly. “You trust to me, miss, it’ll be all right.
+But what about you? Aren’t you afraid to trust yourself with her?”
+
+“No, no, that’s all right. _But go and telephone_. Be quick.”
+
+Drawing a long breath, Tuppence entered the Mansions and ran up to the
+door of No. 20. How she was to detain Mrs. Vandemeyer until the two men
+arrived, she did not know, but somehow or other it had to be done, and
+she must accomplish the task single-handed. What had occasioned this
+precipitate departure? Did Mrs. Vandemeyer suspect her?
+
+Speculations were idle. Tuppence pressed the bell firmly. She might
+learn something from the cook.
+
+Nothing happened and, after waiting some minutes, Tuppence pressed the
+bell again, keeping her finger on the button for some little while.
+At last she heard footsteps inside, and a moment later Mrs. Vandemeyer
+herself opened the door. She lifted her eyebrows at the sight of the
+girl.
+
+“You?”
+
+“I had a touch of toothache, ma’am,” said Tuppence glibly. “So thought
+it better to come home and have a quiet evening.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer said nothing, but she drew back and let Tuppence pass
+into the hall.
+
+“How unfortunate for you,” she said coldly. “You had better go to bed.”
+
+“Oh, I shall be all right in the kitchen, ma’am. Cook will----”
+
+“Cook is out,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer, in a rather disagreeable tone. “I
+sent her out. So you see you had better go to bed.”
+
+Suddenly Tuppence felt afraid. There was a ring in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s
+voice that she did not like at all. Also, the other woman was slowly
+edging her up the passage. Tuppence turned at bay.
+
+“I don’t want----”
+
+Then, in a flash, a rim of cold steel touched her temple, and Mrs.
+Vandemeyer’s voice rose cold and menacing:
+
+“You damned little fool! Do you think I don’t know? No, don’t answer. If
+you struggle or cry out, I’ll shoot you like a dog.”
+
+The rim of steel pressed a little harder against the girl’s temple.
+
+“Now then, march,” went on Mrs. Vandemeyer. “This way--into my room. In
+a minute, when I’ve done with you, you’ll go to bed as I told you to.
+And you’ll sleep--oh yes, my little spy, you’ll sleep all right!”
+
+There was a sort of hideous geniality in the last words which Tuppence
+did not at all like. For the moment there was nothing to be done, and
+she walked obediently into Mrs. Vandemeyer’s bedroom. The pistol never
+left her forehead. The room was in a state of wild disorder, clothes
+were flung about right and left, a suit-case and a hat box, half-packed,
+stood in the middle of the floor.
+
+Tuppence pulled herself together with an effort. Her voice shook a
+little, but she spoke out bravely.
+
+“Come now,” she said. “This is nonsense. You can’t shoot me. Why, every
+one in the building would hear the report.”
+
+“I’d risk that,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer cheerfully. “But, as long as you
+don’t sing out for help, you’re all right--and I don’t think you will.
+You’re a clever girl. You deceived _me_ all right. I hadn’t a suspicion
+of you! So I’ve no doubt that you understand perfectly well that this
+is where I’m on top and you’re underneath. Now then--sit on the bed. Put
+your hands above your head, and if you value your life don’t move them.”
+
+Tuppence obeyed passively. Her good sense told her that there was
+nothing else to do but accept the situation. If she shrieked for help
+there was very little chance of anyone hearing her, whereas there was
+probably quite a good chance of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s shooting her. In the
+meantime, every minute of delay gained was valuable.
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer laid down the revolver on the edge of the washstand
+within reach of her hand, and, still eyeing Tuppence like a lynx in case
+the girl should attempt to move, she took a little stoppered bottle from
+its place on the marble and poured some of its contents into a glass
+which she filled up with water.
+
+“What’s that?” asked Tuppence sharply.
+
+“Something to make you sleep soundly.”
+
+Tuppence paled a little.
+
+“Are you going to poison me?” she asked in a whisper.
+
+“Perhaps,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer, smiling agreeably.
+
+“Then I shan’t drink it,” said Tuppence firmly. “I’d much rather be
+shot. At any rate that would make a row, and some one might hear it. But
+I won’t be killed off quietly like a lamb.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer stamped her foot.
+
+“Don’t be a little fool! Do you really think I want a hue and cry for
+murder out after me? If you’ve any sense at all, you’ll realize that
+poisoning you wouldn’t suit my book at all. It’s a sleeping draught,
+that’s all. You’ll wake up to-morrow morning none the worse. I simply
+don’t want the bother of tying you up and gagging you. That’s the
+alternative--and you won’t like it, I can tell you! I can be very rough
+if I choose. So drink this down like a good girl, and you’ll be none the
+worse for it.”
+
+In her heart of hearts Tuppence believed her. The arguments she had
+adduced rang true. It was a simple and effective method of getting her
+out of the way for the time being. Nevertheless, the girl did not take
+kindly to the idea of being tamely put to sleep without as much as one
+bid for freedom. She felt that once Mrs. Vandemeyer gave them the slip,
+the last hope of finding Tommy would be gone.
+
+Tuppence was quick in her mental processes. All these reflections
+passed through her mind in a flash, and she saw where a chance, a very
+problematical chance, lay, and she determined to risk all in one supreme
+effort.
+
+Accordingly, she lurched suddenly off the bed and fell on her knees
+before Mrs. Vandemeyer, clutching her skirts frantically.
+
+“I don’t believe it,” she moaned. “It’s poison--I know it’s poison.
+Oh, don’t make me drink it”--her voice rose to a shriek--“don’t make me
+drink it!”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer, glass in hand, looked down with a curling lip at this
+sudden collapse.
+
+“Get up, you little idiot! Don’t go on drivelling there. How you ever
+had the nerve to play your part as you did I can’t think.” She stamped
+her foot. “Get up, I say.”
+
+But Tuppence continued to cling and sob, interjecting her sobs with
+incoherent appeals for mercy. Every minute gained was to the good.
+Moreover, as she grovelled, she moved imperceptibly nearer to her
+objective.
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer gave a sharp impatient exclamation, and jerked the girl
+to her knees.
+
+“Drink it at once!” Imperiously she pressed the glass to the girl’s
+lips.
+
+Tuppence gave one last despairing moan.
+
+“You swear it won’t hurt me?” she temporized.
+
+“Of course it won’t hurt you. Don’t be a fool.”
+
+“Will you swear it?”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the other impatiently. “I swear it.”
+
+Tuppence raised a trembling left hand to the glass.
+
+“Very well.” Her mouth opened meekly.
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer gave a sigh of relief, off her guard for the moment.
+Then, quick as a flash, Tuppence jerked the glass upward as hard as she
+could. The fluid in it splashed into Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face, and during
+her momentary gasp, Tuppence’s right hand shot out and grasped the
+revolver where it lay on the edge of the washstand. The next moment
+she had sprung back a pace, and the revolver pointed straight at Mrs.
+Vandemeyer’s heart, with no unsteadiness in the hand that held it.
+
+In the moment of victory, Tuppence betrayed a somewhat unsportsmanlike
+triumph.
+
+“Now who’s on top and who’s underneath?” she crowed.
+
+The other’s face was convulsed with rage. For a minute Tuppence thought
+she was going to spring upon her, which would have placed the girl in an
+unpleasant dilemma, since she meant to draw the line at actually letting
+off the revolver. However, with an effort Mrs. Vandemeyer controlled
+herself, and at last a slow evil smile crept over her face.
+
+“Not a fool, then, after all! You did that well, girl. But you shall pay
+for it--oh, yes, you shall pay for it! I have a long memory!”
+
+“I’m surprised you should have been gulled so easily,” said Tuppence
+scornfully. “Did you really think I was the kind of girl to roll about
+on the floor and whine for mercy?”
+
+“You may do--some day!” said the other significantly.
+
+The cold malignity of her manner sent an unpleasant chill down
+Tuppence’s spine, but she was not going to give in to it.
+
+“Supposing we sit down,” she said pleasantly. “Our present attitude is
+a little melodramatic. No--not on the bed. Draw a chair up to the table,
+that’s right. Now I’ll sit opposite you with the revolver in front of
+me--just in case of accidents. Splendid. Now, let’s talk.”
+
+“What about?” said Mrs. Vandemeyer sullenly.
+
+Tuppence eyed her thoughtfully for a minute. She was remembering several
+things. Boris’s words, “I believe you would sell-- _us!_” and her
+answer, “The price would have to be enormous,” given lightly, it was
+true, yet might not there be a substratum of truth in it? Long ago,
+had not Whittington asked: “Who’s been blabbing? Rita?” Would Rita
+Vandemeyer prove to be the weak spot in the armour of Mr. Brown?
+
+Keeping her eyes fixed steadily on the other’s face, Tuppence replied
+quietly:
+
+“Money----”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer started. Clearly, the reply was unexpected.
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I’ll tell you. You said just now that you had a long memory. A long
+memory isn’t half as useful as a long purse! I dare say it relieves your
+feelings a good deal to plan out all sorts of dreadful things to do to
+me, but is that _practical?_ Revenge is very unsatisfactory. Every one
+always says so. But money”--Tuppence warmed to her pet creed--“well,
+there’s nothing unsatisfactory about money, is there?”
+
+“Do you think,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer scornfully, “that I am the kind of
+woman to sell my friends?”
+
+“Yes,” said Tuppence promptly. “If the price was big enough.”
+
+“A paltry hundred pounds or so!”
+
+“No,” said Tuppence. “I should suggest--a hundred thousand!”
+
+Her economical spirit did not permit her to mention the whole million
+dollars suggested by Julius.
+
+A flush crept over Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
+
+“What did you say?” she asked, her fingers playing nervously with a
+brooch on her breast. In that moment Tuppence knew that the fish was
+hooked, and for the first time she felt a horror of her own money-loving
+spirit. It gave her a dreadful sense of kinship to the woman fronting
+her.
+
+“A hundred thousand pounds,” repeated Tuppence.
+
+The light died out of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes. She leaned back in her
+chair.
+
+“Bah!” she said. “You haven’t got it.”
+
+“No,” admitted Tuppence, “I haven’t--but I know some one who has.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“A friend of mine.”
+
+“Must be a millionaire,” remarked Mrs. Vandemeyer unbelievingly.
+
+“As a matter of fact he is. He’s an American. He’ll pay you that
+without a murmur. You can take it from me that it’s a perfectly genuine
+proposition.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer sat up again.
+
+“I’m inclined to believe you,” she said slowly.
+
+There was silence between them for some time, then Mrs. Vandemeyer
+looked up.
+
+“What does he want to know, this friend of yours?”
+
+Tuppence went through a momentary struggle, but it was Julius’s money,
+and his interests must come first.
+
+“He wants to know where Jane Finn is,” she said boldly.
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer showed no surprise.
+
+“I’m not sure where she is at the present moment,” she replied.
+
+“But you could find out?”
+
+“Oh, yes,” returned Mrs. Vandemeyer carelessly. “There would be no
+difficulty about that.”
+
+“Then”--Tuppence’s voice shook a little--“there’s a boy, a friend of
+mine. I’m afraid something’s happened to him, through your pal Boris.”
+
+“What’s his name?”
+
+“Tommy Beresford.”
+
+“Never heard of him. But I’ll ask Boris. He’ll tell me anything he
+knows.”
+
+“Thank you.” Tuppence felt a terrific rise in her spirits. It impelled
+her to more audacious efforts. “There’s one thing more.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+Tuppence leaned forward and lowered her voice.
+
+_“Who is Mr. Brown?”_
+
+Her quick eyes saw the sudden paling of the beautiful face. With an
+effort Mrs. Vandemeyer pulled herself together and tried to resume her
+former manner. But the attempt was a mere parody.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“You can’t have learnt much about us if you don’t know that _nobody
+knows who Mr. Brown is_....”
+
+“You do,” said Tuppence quietly.
+
+Again the colour deserted the other’s face.
+
+“What makes you think that?”
+
+“I don’t know,” said the girl truthfully. “But I’m sure.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer stared in front of her for a long time.
+
+“Yes,” she said hoarsely, at last, “_I_ know. I was beautiful, you
+see--very beautiful----”
+
+“You are still,” said Tuppence with admiration.
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer shook her head. There was a strange gleam in her
+electric-blue eyes.
+
+“Not beautiful enough,” she said in a soft dangerous voice.
+“Not--beautiful--enough! And sometimes, lately, I’ve been afraid....
+It’s dangerous to know too much!” She leaned forward across the table.
+“Swear that my name shan’t be brought into it--that no one shall ever
+know.”
+
+“I swear it. And, once’s he caught, you’ll be out of danger.”
+
+A terrified look swept across Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
+
+“Shall I? Shall I ever be?” She clutched Tuppence’s arm. “You’re sure
+about the money?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+“When shall I have it? There must be no delay.”
+
+“This friend of mine will be here presently. He may have to send cables,
+or something like that. But there won’t be any delay--he’s a terrific
+hustler.”
+
+A resolute look settled on Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
+
+“I’ll do it. It’s a great sum of money, and besides”--she gave a curious
+smile--“it is not--wise to throw over a woman like me!”
+
+For a moment or two, she remained smiling, and lightly tapping her
+fingers on the table. Suddenly she started, and her face blanched.
+
+“What was that?”
+
+“I heard nothing.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer gazed round her fearfully.
+
+“If there should be some one listening----”
+
+“Nonsense. Who could there be?”
+
+“Even the walls might have ears,” whispered the other. “I tell you I’m
+frightened. You don’t know him!”
+
+“Think of the hundred thousand pounds,” said Tuppence soothingly.
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer passed her tongue over her dried lips.
+
+“You don’t know him,” she reiterated hoarsely. “He’s--ah!”
+
+With a shriek of terror she sprang to her feet. Her outstretched hand
+pointed over Tuppence’s head. Then she swayed to the ground in a dead
+faint.
+
+Tuppence looked round to see what had startled her.
+
+In the doorway were Sir James Peel Edgerton and Julius Hersheimmer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. THE VIGIL
+
+SIR James brushed past Julius and hurriedly bent over the fallen woman.
+
+“Heart,” he said sharply. “Seeing us so suddenly must have given her a
+shock. Brandy--and quickly, or she’ll slip through our fingers.”
+
+Julius hurried to the washstand.
+
+“Not there,” said Tuppence over her shoulder. “In the tantalus in the
+dining-room. Second door down the passage.”
+
+Between them Sir James and Tuppence lifted Mrs. Vandemeyer and carried
+her to the bed. There they dashed water on her face, but with no result.
+The lawyer fingered her pulse.
+
+“Touch and go,” he muttered. “I wish that young fellow would hurry up
+with the brandy.”
+
+At that moment Julius re-entered the room, carrying a glass half full of
+the spirit which he handed to Sir James. While Tuppence lifted her head
+the lawyer tried to force a little of the spirit between her closed
+lips. Finally the woman opened her eyes feebly. Tuppence held the glass
+to her lips.
+
+“Drink this.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer complied. The brandy brought the colour back to her
+white cheeks, and revived her in a marvellous fashion. She tried to sit
+up--then fell back with a groan, her hand to her side.
+
+“It’s my heart,” she whispered. “I mustn’t talk.”
+
+She lay back with closed eyes.
+
+Sir James kept his finger on her wrist a minute longer, then withdrew it
+with a nod.
+
+“She’ll do now.”
+
+All three moved away, and stood together talking in low voices. One
+and all were conscious of a certain feeling of anticlimax. Clearly any
+scheme for cross-questioning the lady was out of the question for the
+moment. For the time being they were baffled, and could do nothing.
+
+Tuppence related how Mrs. Vandemeyer had declared herself willing
+to disclose the identity of Mr. Brown, and how she had consented to
+discover and reveal to them the whereabouts of Jane Finn. Julius was
+congratulatory.
+
+“That’s all right, Miss Tuppence. Splendid! I guess that hundred
+thousand pounds will look just as good in the morning to the lady as it
+did over night. There’s nothing to worry over. She won’t speak without
+the cash anyway, you bet!”
+
+There was certainly a good deal of common sense in this, and Tuppence
+felt a little comforted.
+
+“What you say is true,” said Sir James meditatively. “I must confess,
+however, that I cannot help wishing we had not interrupted at the minute
+we did. Still, it cannot be helped, it is only a matter of waiting until
+the morning.”
+
+He looked across at the inert figure on the bed. Mrs. Vandemeyer lay
+perfectly passive with closed eyes. He shook his head.
+
+“Well,” said Tuppence, with an attempt at cheerfulness, “we must wait
+until the morning, that’s all. But I don’t think we ought to leave the
+flat.”
+
+“What about leaving that bright boy of yours on guard?”
+
+“Albert? And suppose she came round again and hooked it. Albert couldn’t
+stop her.”
+
+“I guess she won’t want to make tracks away from the dollars.”
+
+“She might. She seemed very frightened of ‘Mr. Brown.’”
+
+“What? Real plumb scared of him?”
+
+“Yes. She looked round and said even walls had ears.”
+
+“Maybe she meant a dictaphone,” said Julius with interest.
+
+“Miss Tuppence is right,” said Sir James quietly. “We must not leave the
+flat--if only for Mrs. Vandemeyer’s sake.”
+
+Julius stared at him.
+
+“You think he’d get after her? Between now and to-morrow morning. How
+could he know, even?”
+
+“You forget your own suggestion of a dictaphone,” said Sir James dryly.
+“We have a very formidable adversary. I believe, if we exercise all due
+care, that there is a very good chance of his being delivered into our
+hands. But we must neglect no precaution. We have an important witness,
+but she must be safeguarded. I would suggest that Miss Tuppence should
+go to bed, and that you and I, Mr. Hersheimmer, should share the vigil.”
+
+Tuppence was about to protest, but happening to glance at the bed she
+saw Mrs. Vandemeyer, her eyes half-open, with such an expression of
+mingled fear and malevolence on her face that it quite froze the words
+on her lips.
+
+For a moment she wondered whether the faint and the heart attack had
+been a gigantic sham, but remembering the deadly pallor she could hardly
+credit the supposition. As she looked the expression disappeared as by
+magic, and Mrs. Vandemeyer lay inert and motionless as before. For a
+moment the girl fancied she must have dreamt it. But she determined
+nevertheless to be on the alert.
+
+“Well,” said Julius, “I guess we’d better make a move out of here any
+way.”
+
+The others fell in with his suggestion. Sir James again felt Mrs.
+Vandemeyer’s pulse.
+
+“Perfectly satisfactory,” he said in a low voice to Tuppence. “She’ll be
+absolutely all right after a night’s rest.”
+
+The girl hesitated a moment by the bed. The intensity of the expression
+she had surprised had impressed her powerfully. Mrs. Vandemeyer lifted
+her lids. She seemed to be struggling to speak. Tuppence bent over her.
+
+“Don’t--leave----” she seemed unable to proceed, murmuring something
+that sounded like “sleepy.” Then she tried again.
+
+Tuppence bent lower still. It was only a breath.
+
+“Mr.--Brown----” The voice stopped.
+
+But the half-closed eyes seemed still to send an agonized message.
+
+Moved by a sudden impulse, the girl said quickly:
+
+“I shan’t leave the flat. I shall sit up all night.”
+
+A flash of relief showed before the lids descended once more. Apparently
+Mrs. Vandemeyer slept. But her words had awakened a new uneasiness in
+Tuppence. What had she meant by that low murmur: “Mr. Brown?” Tuppence
+caught herself nervously looking over her shoulder. The big wardrobe
+loomed up in a sinister fashion before her eyes. Plenty of room for a
+man to hide in that.... Half-ashamed of herself, Tuppence pulled it open
+and looked inside. No one--of course! She stooped down and looked under
+the bed. There was no other possible hiding-place.
+
+Tuppence gave her familiar shake of the shoulders. It was absurd, this
+giving way to nerves! Slowly she went out of the room. Julius and Sir
+James were talking in a low voice. Sir James turned to her.
+
+“Lock the door on the outside, please, Miss Tuppence, and take out the
+key. There must be no chance of anyone entering that room.”
+
+The gravity of his manner impressed them, and Tuppence felt less ashamed
+of her attack of “nerves.”
+
+“Say,” remarked Julius suddenly, “there’s Tuppence’s bright boy. I guess
+I’d better go down and ease his young mind. That’s some lad, Tuppence.”
+
+“How did you get in, by the way?” asked Tuppence suddenly. “I forgot to
+ask.”
+
+“Well, Albert got me on the phone all right. I ran round for Sir James
+here, and we came right on. The boy was on the look out for us, and was
+just a mite worried about what might have happened to you. He’d been
+listening outside the door of the flat, but couldn’t hear anything.
+Anyhow he suggested sending us up in the coal lift instead of ringing
+the bell. And sure enough we landed in the scullery and came right along
+to find you. Albert’s still below, and must be just hopping mad by this
+time.” With which Julius departed abruptly.
+
+“Now then, Miss Tuppence,” said Sir James, “you know this place better
+than I do. Where do you suggest we should take up our quarters?”
+
+Tuppence considered for a moment or two.
+
+“I think Mrs. Vandemeyer’s boudoir would be the most comfortable,” she
+said at last, and led the way there.
+
+Sir James looked round approvingly.
+
+“This will do very well, and now, my dear young lady, do go to bed and
+get some sleep.”
+
+Tuppence shook her head resolutely.
+
+“I couldn’t, thank you, Sir James. I should dream of Mr. Brown all
+night!”
+
+“But you’ll be so tired, child.”
+
+“No, I shan’t. I’d rather stay up--really.”
+
+The lawyer gave in.
+
+Julius reappeared some minutes later, having reassured Albert and
+rewarded him lavishly for his services. Having in his turn failed to
+persuade Tuppence to go to bed, he said decisively:
+
+“At any rate, you’ve got to have something to eat right away. Where’s
+the larder?”
+
+Tuppence directed him, and he returned in a few minutes with a cold pie
+and three plates.
+
+After a hearty meal, the girl felt inclined to pooh-pooh her fancies of
+half an hour before. The power of the money bribe could not fail.
+
+“And now, Miss Tuppence,” said Sir James, “we want to hear your
+adventures.”
+
+“That’s so,” agreed Julius.
+
+Tuppence narrated her adventures with some complacence. Julius
+occasionally interjected an admiring “Bully.” Sir James said nothing
+until she had finished, when his quiet “well done, Miss Tuppence,” made
+her flush with pleasure.
+
+“There’s one thing I don’t get clearly,” said Julius. “What put her up
+to clearing out?”
+
+“I don’t know,” confessed Tuppence.
+
+Sir James stroked his chin thoughtfully.
+
+“The room was in great disorder. That looks as though her flight was
+unpremeditated. Almost as though she got a sudden warning to go from
+some one.”
+
+“Mr. Brown, I suppose,” said Julius scoffingly.
+
+The lawyer looked at him deliberately for a minute or two.
+
+“Why not?” he said. “Remember, you yourself have once been worsted by
+him.”
+
+Julius flushed with vexation.
+
+“I feel just mad when I think of how I handed out Jane’s photograph to
+him like a lamb. Gee, if I ever lay hands on it again, I’ll freeze on to
+it like--like hell!”
+
+“That contingency is likely to be a remote one,” said the other dryly.
+
+“I guess you’re right,” said Julius frankly. “And, in any case, it’s the
+original I’m out after. Where do you think she can be, Sir James?”
+
+The lawyer shook his head.
+
+“Impossible to say. But I’ve a very good idea where she _has_ been.”
+
+“You have? Where?”
+
+Sir James smiled.
+
+“At the scene of your nocturnal adventures, the Bournemouth nursing
+home.”
+
+“There? Impossible. I asked.”
+
+“No, my dear sir, you asked if anyone of the name of Jane Finn had been
+there. Now, if the girl had been placed there it would almost certainly
+be under an assumed name.”
+
+“Bully for you,” cried Julius. “I never thought of that!”
+
+“It was fairly obvious,” said the other.
+
+“Perhaps the doctor’s in it too,” suggested Tuppence.
+
+Julius shook his head.
+
+“I don’t think so. I took to him at once. No, I’m pretty sure Dr. Hall’s
+all right.”
+
+“Hall, did you say?” asked Sir James. “That is curious--really very
+curious.”
+
+“Why?” demanded Tuppence.
+
+“Because I happened to meet him this morning. I’ve known him slightly on
+and off for some years, and this morning I ran across him in the street.
+Staying at the _Métropole_, he told me.” He turned to Julius. “Didn’t
+he tell you he was coming up to town?”
+
+Julius shook his head.
+
+“Curious,” mused Sir James. “You did not mention his name this
+afternoon, or I would have suggested your going to him for further
+information with my card as introduction.”
+
+“I guess I’m a mutt,” said Julius with unusual humility. “I ought to
+have thought of the false name stunt.”
+
+“How could you think of anything after falling out of that tree?” cried
+Tuppence. “I’m sure anyone else would have been killed right off.”
+
+“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now, anyway,” said Julius. “We’ve got
+Mrs. Vandemeyer on a string, and that’s all we need.”
+
+“Yes,” said Tuppence, but there was a lack of assurance in her voice.
+
+A silence settled down over the party. Little by little the magic of
+the night began to gain a hold on them. There were sudden creaks of the
+furniture, imperceptible rustlings in the curtains. Suddenly Tuppence
+sprang up with a cry.
+
+“I can’t help it. I know Mr. Brown’s somewhere in the flat! I can _feel_
+him.”
+
+“Sure, Tuppence, how could he be? This door’s open into the hall. No
+one could have come in by the front door without our seeing and hearing
+him.”
+
+“I can’t help it. I _feel_ he’s here!”
+
+She looked appealingly at Sir James, who replied gravely:
+
+“With due deference to your feelings, Miss Tuppence (and mine as well
+for that matter), I do not see how it is humanly possible for anyone to
+be in the flat without our knowledge.”
+
+The girl was a little comforted by his words.
+
+“Sitting up at night is always rather jumpy,” she confessed.
+
+“Yes,” said Sir James. “We are in the condition of people holding a
+séance. Perhaps if a medium were present we might get some marvellous
+results.”
+
+“Do you believe in spiritualism?” asked Tuppence, opening her eyes wide.
+
+The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“There is some truth in it, without a doubt. But most of the testimony
+would not pass muster in the witness-box.”
+
+The hours drew on. With the first faint glimmerings of dawn, Sir James
+drew aside the curtains. They beheld, what few Londoners see, the slow
+rising of the sun over the sleeping city. Somehow, with the coming
+of the light, the dreads and fancies of the past night seemed absurd.
+Tuppence’s spirits revived to the normal.
+
+“Hooray!” she said. “It’s going to be a gorgeous day. And we shall find
+Tommy. And Jane Finn. And everything will be lovely. I shall ask Mr.
+Carter if I can’t be made a Dame!”
+
+At seven o’clock Tuppence volunteered to go and make some tea. She
+returned with a tray, containing the teapot and four cups.
+
+“Who’s the other cup for?” inquired Julius.
+
+“The prisoner, of course. I suppose we might call her that?”
+
+“Taking her tea seems a kind of anticlimax to last night,” said Julius
+thoughtfully.
+
+“Yes, it does,” admitted Tuppence. “But, anyway, here goes. Perhaps
+you’d both come, too, in case she springs on me, or anything. You see,
+we don’t know what mood she’ll wake up in.”
+
+Sir James and Julius accompanied her to the door.
+
+“Where’s the key? Oh, of course, I’ve got it myself.”
+
+She put it in the lock, and turned it, then paused.
+
+“Supposing, after all, she’s escaped?” she murmured in a whisper.
+
+“Plumb impossible,” replied Julius reassuringly.
+
+But Sir James said nothing.
+
+Tuppence drew a long breath and entered. She heaved a sigh of relief as
+she saw that Mrs. Vandemeyer was lying on the bed.
+
+“Good morning,” she remarked cheerfully. “I’ve brought you some tea.”
+
+Mrs. Vandemeyer did not reply. Tuppence put down the cup on the table
+by the bed and went across to draw up the blinds. When she turned, Mrs.
+Vandemeyer still lay without a movement. With a sudden fear clutching
+at her heart, Tuppence ran to the bed. The hand she lifted was cold as
+ice.... Mrs. Vandemeyer would never speak now....
+
+Her cry brought the others. A very few minutes sufficed. Mrs. Vandemeyer
+was dead--must have been dead some hours. She had evidently died in her
+sleep.
+
+“If that isn’t the cruellest luck,” cried Julius in despair.
+
+The lawyer was calmer, but there was a curious gleam in his eyes.
+
+“If it is luck,” he replied.
+
+“You don’t think--but, say, that’s plumb impossible--no one could have
+got in.”
+
+“No,” admitted the lawyer. “I don’t see how they could. And yet--she is
+on the point of betraying Mr. Brown, and--she dies. Is it only chance?”
+
+“But how----”
+
+“Yes, _how!_ That is what we must find out.” He stood there silently,
+gently stroking his chin. “We must find out,” he said quietly, and
+Tuppence felt that if she was Mr. Brown she would not like the tone of
+those simple words.
+
+Julius’s glance went to the window.
+
+“The window’s open,” he remarked. “Do you think----”
+
+Tuppence shook her head.
+
+“The balcony only goes along as far as the boudoir. We were there.”
+
+“He might have slipped out----” suggested Julius.
+
+But Sir James interrupted him.
+
+“Mr. Brown’s methods are not so crude. In the meantime we must send for
+a doctor, but before we do so, is there anything in this room that might
+be of value to us?”
+
+Hastily, the three searched. A charred mass in the grate indicated
+that Mrs. Vandemeyer had been burning papers on the eve of her flight.
+Nothing of importance remained, though they searched the other rooms as
+well.
+
+“There’s that,” said Tuppence suddenly, pointing to a small,
+old-fashioned safe let into the wall. “It’s for jewellery, I believe,
+but there might be something else in it.”
+
+The key was in the lock, and Julius swung open the door, and searched
+inside. He was some time over the task.
+
+“Well,” said Tuppence impatiently.
+
+There was a pause before Julius answered, then he withdrew his head and
+shut to the door.
+
+“Nothing,” he said.
+
+In five minutes a brisk young doctor arrived, hastily summoned. He was
+deferential to Sir James, whom he recognized.
+
+“Heart failure, or possibly an overdose of some sleeping-draught.” He
+sniffed. “Rather an odour of chloral in the air.”
+
+Tuppence remembered the glass she had upset. A new thought drove her to
+the washstand. She found the little bottle from which Mrs. Vandemeyer
+had poured a few drops.
+
+It had been three parts full. Now-- _it was empty_.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. A CONSULTATION
+
+NOTHING was more surprising and bewildering to Tuppence than the ease
+and simplicity with which everything was arranged, owing to Sir James’s
+skilful handling. The doctor accepted quite readily the theory that Mrs.
+Vandemeyer had accidentally taken an overdose of chloral. He doubted
+whether an inquest would be necessary. If so, he would let Sir James
+know. He understood that Mrs. Vandemeyer was on the eve of departure for
+abroad, and that the servants had already left? Sir James and his young
+friends had been paying a call upon her, when she was suddenly stricken
+down and they had spent the night in the flat, not liking to leave
+her alone. Did they know of any relatives? They did not, but Sir James
+referred him to Mrs. Vandemeyer’s solicitor.
+
+Shortly afterwards a nurse arrived to take charge, and the other left
+the ill-omened building.
+
+“And what now?” asked Julius, with a gesture of despair. “I guess we’re
+down and out for good.”
+
+Sir James stroked his chin thoughtfully.
+
+“No,” he said quietly. “There is still the chance that Dr. Hall may be
+able to tell us something.”
+
+“Gee! I’d forgotten him.”
+
+“The chance is slight, but it must not be neglected. I think I told you
+that he is staying at the _Métropole_. I should suggest that we call
+upon him there as soon as possible. Shall we say after a bath and
+breakfast?”
+
+It was arranged that Tuppence and Julius should return to the _Ritz_,
+and call for Sir James in the car. This programme was faithfully carried
+out, and a little after eleven they drew up before the _Métropole_.
+They asked for Dr. Hall, and a page-boy went in search of him. In a few
+minutes the little doctor came hurrying towards them.
+
+“Can you spare us a few minutes, Dr. Hall?” said Sir James pleasantly.
+“Let me introduce you to Miss Cowley. Mr. Hersheimmer, I think, you
+already know.”
+
+A quizzical gleam came into the doctor’s eye as he shook hands with
+Julius.
+
+“Ah, yes, my young friend of the tree episode! Ankle all right, eh?”
+
+“I guess it’s cured owing to your skilful treatment, doc.”
+
+“And the heart trouble? Ha ha!”
+
+“Still searching,” said Julius briefly.
+
+“To come to the point, can we have a word with you in private?” asked
+Sir James.
+
+“Certainly. I think there is a room here where we shall be quite
+undisturbed.”
+
+He led the way, and the others followed him. They sat down, and the
+doctor looked inquiringly at Sir James.
+
+“Dr. Hall, I am very anxious to find a certain young lady for the
+purpose of obtaining a statement from her. I have reason to believe
+that she has been at one time or another in your establishment at
+Bournemouth. I hope I am transgressing no professional etiquette in
+questioning you on the subject?”
+
+“I suppose it is a matter of testimony?”
+
+Sir James hesitated a moment, then he replied:
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I shall be pleased to give you any information in my power. What is
+the young lady’s name? Mr. Hersheimmer asked me, I remember----” He half
+turned to Julius.
+
+“The name,” said Sir James bluntly, “is really immaterial. She would be
+almost certainly sent to you under an assumed one. But I should like to
+know if you are acquainted with a Mrs. Vandemeyer?”
+
+“Mrs. Vandemeyer, of 20 South Audley Mansions? I know her slightly.”
+
+“You are not aware of what has happened?”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“You do not know that Mrs. Vandemeyer is dead?”
+
+“Dear, dear, I had no idea of it! When did it happen?”
+
+“She took an overdose of chloral last night.”
+
+“Purposely?”
+
+“Accidentally, it is believed. I should not like to say myself. Anyway,
+she was found dead this morning.”
+
+“Very sad. A singularly handsome woman. I presume she was a friend of
+yours, since you are acquainted with all these details.”
+
+“I am acquainted with the details because--well, it was I who found her
+dead.”
+
+“Indeed,” said the doctor, starting.
+
+“Yes,” said Sir James, and stroked his chin reflectively.
+
+“This is very sad news, but you will excuse me if I say that I do not
+see how it bears on the subject of your inquiry?”
+
+“It bears on it in this way, is it not a fact that Mrs. Vandemeyer
+committed a young relative of hers to your charge?”
+
+Julius leaned forward eagerly.
+
+“That is the case,” said the doctor quietly.
+
+“Under the name of----?”
+
+“Janet Vandemeyer. I understood her to be a niece of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s.”
+
+“And she came to you?”
+
+“As far as I can remember in June or July of 1915.”
+
+“Was she a mental case?”
+
+“She is perfectly sane, if that is what you mean. I understood from Mrs.
+Vandemeyer that the girl had been with her on the _Lusitania_ when
+that ill-fated ship was sunk, and had suffered a severe shock in
+consequence.”
+
+“We’re on the right track, I think?” Sir James looked round.
+
+“As I said before, I’m a mutt!” returned Julius.
+
+The doctor looked at them all curiously.
+
+“You spoke of wanting a statement from her,” he said. “Supposing she is
+not able to give one?”
+
+“What? You have just said that she is perfectly sane.”
+
+“So she is. Nevertheless, if you want a statement from her concerning
+any events prior to May 7, 1915, she will not be able to give it to
+you.”
+
+They looked at the little man, stupefied. He nodded cheerfully.
+
+“It’s a pity,” he said. “A great pity, especially as I gather, Sir
+James, that the matter is important. But there it is, she can tell you
+nothing.”
+
+“But why, man? Darn it all, why?”
+
+The little man shifted his benevolent glance to the excited young
+American.
+
+“Because Janet Vandemeyer is suffering from a complete loss of memory.”
+
+_“What?”_
+
+“Quite so. An interesting case, a _very_ interesting case. Not so
+uncommon, really, as you would think. There are several very well known
+parallels. It’s the first case of the kind that I’ve had under my own
+personal observation, and I must admit that I’ve found it of absorbing
+interest.” There was something rather ghoulish in the little man’s
+satisfaction.
+
+“And she remembers nothing,” said Sir James slowly.
+
+“Nothing prior to May 7, 1915. After that date her memory is as good as
+yours or mine.”
+
+“Then the first thing she remembers?”
+
+“Is landing with the survivors. Everything before that is a blank. She
+did not know her own name, or where she had come from, or where she was.
+She couldn’t even speak her own tongue.”
+
+“But surely all this is most unusual?” put in Julius.
+
+“No, my dear sir. Quite normal under the circumstances. Severe shock to
+the nervous system. Loss of memory proceeds nearly always on the same
+lines. I suggested a specialist, of course. There’s a very good man in
+Paris--makes a study of these cases--but Mrs. Vandemeyer opposed the
+idea of publicity that might result from such a course.”
+
+“I can imagine she would,” said Sir James grimly.
+
+“I fell in with her views. There is a certain notoriety given to these
+cases. And the girl was very young--nineteen, I believe. It seemed
+a pity that her infirmity should be talked about--might damage her
+prospects. Besides, there is no special treatment to pursue in such
+cases. It is really a matter of waiting.”
+
+“Waiting?”
+
+“Yes, sooner or later, the memory will return--as suddenly as it
+went. But in all probability the girl will have entirely forgotten the
+intervening period, and will take up life where she left off--at the
+sinking of the _Lusitania_.”
+
+“And when do you expect this to happen?”
+
+The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Ah, that I cannot say. Sometimes it is a matter of months, sometimes
+it has been known to be as long as twenty years! Sometimes another shock
+does the trick. One restores what the other took away.”
+
+“Another shock, eh?” said Julius thoughtfully.
+
+“Exactly. There was a case in Colorado----” The little man’s voice
+trailed on, voluble, mildly enthusiastic.
+
+Julius did not seem to be listening. He had relapsed into his own
+thoughts and was frowning. Suddenly he came out of his brown study,
+and hit the table such a resounding bang with his fist that every one
+jumped, the doctor most of all.
+
+“I’ve got it! I guess, doc, I’d like your medical opinion on the plan
+I’m about to outline. Say Jane was to cross the herring pond again, and
+the same thing was to happen. The submarine, the sinking ship, every one
+to take to the boats--and so on. Wouldn’t that do the trick? Wouldn’t it
+give a mighty big bump to her subconscious self, or whatever the jargon
+is, and start it functioning again right away?”
+
+“A very interesting speculation, Mr. Hersheimmer. In my own opinion, it
+would be successful. It is unfortunate that there is no chance of the
+conditions repeating themselves as you suggest.”
+
+“Not by nature, perhaps, doc. But I’m talking about art.”
+
+“Art?”
+
+“Why, yes. What’s the difficulty? Hire a liner----”
+
+“A liner!” murmured Dr. Hall faintly.
+
+“Hire some passengers, hire a submarine--that’s the only difficulty, I
+guess. Governments are apt to be a bit hide-bound over their engines of
+war. They won’t sell to the first-comer. Still, I guess that can be got
+over. Ever heard of the word ‘graft,’ sir? Well, graft gets there every
+time! I reckon that we shan’t really need to fire a torpedo. If every
+one hustles round and screams loud enough that the ship is sinking, it
+ought to be enough for an innocent young girl like Jane. By the time
+she’s got a life-belt on her, and is being hustled into a boat, with
+a well-drilled lot of artistes doing the hysterical stunt on deck,
+why--she ought to be right back where she was in May, 1915. How’s that
+for the bare outline?”
+
+Dr. Hall looked at Julius. Everything that he was for the moment
+incapable of saying was eloquent in that look.
+
+“No,” said Julius, in answer to it, “I’m not crazy. The thing’s
+perfectly possible. It’s done every day in the States for the movies.
+Haven’t you seen trains in collision on the screen? What’s the
+difference between buying up a train and buying up a liner? Get the
+properties and you can go right ahead!”
+
+Dr. Hall found his voice.
+
+“But the expense, my dear sir.” His voice rose. “The expense! It will be
+_colossal!_”
+
+“Money doesn’t worry me any,” explained Julius simply.
+
+Dr. Hall turned an appealing face to Sir James, who smiled slightly.
+
+“Mr. Hersheimmer is very well off--very well off indeed.”
+
+The doctor’s glance came back to Julius with a new and subtle quality in
+it. This was no longer an eccentric young fellow with a habit of falling
+off trees. The doctor’s eyes held the deference accorded to a really
+rich man.
+
+“Very remarkable plan. Very remarkable,” he murmured. “The movies--of
+course! Your American word for the kinema. Very interesting. I fear we
+are perhaps a little behind the times over here in our methods. And you
+really mean to carry out this remarkable plan of yours.”
+
+“You bet your bottom dollar I do.”
+
+The doctor believed him--which was a tribute to his nationality. If an
+Englishman had suggested such a thing, he would have had grave doubts as
+to his sanity.
+
+“I cannot guarantee a cure,” he pointed out. “Perhaps I ought to make
+that quite clear.”
+
+“Sure, that’s all right,” said Julius. “You just trot out Jane, and
+leave the rest to me.”
+
+“Jane?”
+
+“Miss Janet Vandemeyer, then. Can we get on the long distance to your
+place right away, and ask them to send her up; or shall I run down and
+fetch her in my car?”
+
+The doctor stared.
+
+“I beg your pardon, Mr. Hersheimmer. I thought you understood.”
+
+“Understood what?”
+
+“That Miss Vandemeyer is no longer under my care.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. TUPPENCE RECEIVES A PROPOSAL
+
+JULIUS sprang up.
+
+“What?”
+
+“I thought you were aware of that.”
+
+“When did she leave?”
+
+“Let me see. To-day is Monday, is it not? It must have been last
+Wednesday--why, surely--yes, it was the same evening that you--er--fell
+out of my tree.”
+
+“That evening? Before, or after?”
+
+“Let me see--oh yes, afterwards. A very urgent message arrived from Mrs.
+Vandemeyer. The young lady and the nurse who was in charge of her left
+by the night train.”
+
+Julius sank back again into his chair.
+
+“Nurse Edith--left with a patient--I remember,” he muttered. “My God, to
+have been so near!”
+
+Dr. Hall looked bewildered.
+
+“I don’t understand. Is the young lady not with her aunt, after all?”
+
+Tuppence shook her head. She was about to speak when a warning glance
+from Sir James made her hold her tongue. The lawyer rose.
+
+“I’m much obliged to you, Hall. We’re very grateful for all you’ve
+told us. I’m afraid we’re now in the position of having to track Miss
+Vandemeyer anew. What about the nurse who accompanied her; I suppose you
+don’t know where she is?”
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+“We’ve not heard from her, as it happens. I understood she was to remain
+with Miss Vandemeyer for a while. But what can have happened? Surely the
+girl has not been kidnapped.”
+
+“That remains to be seen,” said Sir James gravely.
+
+The other hesitated.
+
+“You do not think I ought to go to the police?”
+
+“No, no. In all probability the young lady is with other relations.”
+
+The doctor was not completely satisfied, but he saw that Sir James was
+determined to say no more, and realized that to try and extract
+more information from the famous K.C. would be mere waste of labour.
+Accordingly, he wished them goodbye, and they left the hotel. For a few
+minutes they stood by the car talking.
+
+“How maddening,” cried Tuppence. “To think that Julius must have been
+actually under the same roof with her for a few hours.”
+
+“I was a darned idiot,” muttered Julius gloomily.
+
+“You couldn’t know,” Tuppence consoled him. “Could he?” She appealed to
+Sir James.
+
+“I should advise you not to worry,” said the latter kindly. “No use
+crying over spilt milk, you know.”
+
+“The great thing is what to do next,” added Tuppence the practical.
+
+Sir James shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“You might advertise for the nurse who accompanied the girl. That is
+the only course I can suggest, and I must confess I do not hope for much
+result. Otherwise there is nothing to be done.”
+
+“Nothing?” said Tuppence blankly. “And--Tommy?”
+
+“We must hope for the best,” said Sir James. “Oh yes, we must go on
+hoping.”
+
+But over her downcast head his eyes met Julius’s, and almost
+imperceptibly he shook his head. Julius understood. The lawyer
+considered the case hopeless. The young American’s face grew grave. Sir
+James took Tuppence’s hand.
+
+“You must let me know if anything further comes to light. Letters will
+always be forwarded.”
+
+Tuppence stared at him blankly.
+
+“You are going away?”
+
+“I told you. Don’t you remember? To Scotland.”
+
+“Yes, but I thought----” The girl hesitated.
+
+Sir James shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“My dear young lady, I can do nothing more, I fear. Our clues have all
+ended in thin air. You can take my word for it that there is nothing
+more to be done. If anything should arise, I shall be glad to advise you
+in any way I can.”
+
+His words gave Tuppence an extraordinarily desolate feeling.
+
+“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Anyway, thank you very much for
+trying to help us. Good-bye.”
+
+Julius was bending over the car. A momentary pity came into Sir James’s
+keen eyes, as he gazed into the girl’s downcast face.
+
+“Don’t be too disconsolate, Miss Tuppence,” he said in a low voice.
+“Remember, holiday-time isn’t always all playtime. One sometimes manages
+to put in some work as well.”
+
+Something in his tone made Tuppence glance up sharply. He shook his head
+with a smile.
+
+“No, I shan’t say any more. Great mistake to say too much. Remember
+that. Never tell all you know--not even to the person you know best.
+Understand? Good-bye.”
+
+He strode away. Tuppence stared after him. She was beginning to
+understand Sir James’s methods. Once before he had thrown her a hint
+in the same careless fashion. Was this a hint? What exactly lay
+behind those last brief words? Did he mean that, after all, he had not
+abandoned the case; that, secretly, he would be working on it still
+while----
+
+Her meditations were interrupted by Julius, who adjured her to “get
+right in.”
+
+“You’re looking kind of thoughtful,” he remarked as they started off.
+“Did the old guy say anything more?”
+
+Tuppence opened her mouth impulsively, and then shut it again. Sir
+James’s words sounded in her ears: “Never tell all you know--not even
+to the person you know best.” And like a flash there came into her mind
+another memory. Julius before the safe in the flat, her own question and
+the pause before his reply, “Nothing.” Was there really nothing? Or
+had he found something he wished to keep to himself? If he could make a
+reservation, so could she.
+
+“Nothing particular,” she replied.
+
+She felt rather than saw Julius throw a sideways glance at her.
+
+“Say, shall we go for a spin in the park?”
+
+“If you like.”
+
+For a while they ran on under the trees in silence. It was a beautiful
+day. The keen rush through the air brought a new exhilaration to
+Tuppence.
+
+“Say, Miss Tuppence, do you think I’m ever going to find Jane?”
+
+Julius spoke in a discouraged voice. The mood was so alien to him that
+Tuppence turned and stared at him in surprise. He nodded.
+
+“That’s so. I’m getting down and out over the business. Sir James to-day
+hadn’t got any hope at all, I could see that. I don’t like him--we don’t
+gee together somehow--but he’s pretty cute, and I guess he wouldn’t quit
+if there was any chance of success--now, would he?”
+
+Tuppence felt rather uncomfortable, but clinging to her belief that
+Julius also had withheld something from her, she remained firm.
+
+“He suggested advertising for the nurse,” she reminded him.
+
+“Yes, with a ‘forlorn hope’ flavour to his voice! No--I’m about fed up.
+I’ve half a mind to go back to the States right away.”
+
+“Oh no!” cried Tuppence. “We’ve got to find Tommy.”
+
+“I sure forgot Beresford,” said Julius contritely. “That’s so. We must
+find him. But after--well, I’ve been day-dreaming ever since I started
+on this trip--and these dreams are rotten poor business. I’m quit of
+them. Say, Miss Tuppence, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+“You and Beresford. What about it?”
+
+“I don’t understand you,” replied Tuppence with dignity, adding rather
+inconsequently: “And, anyway, you’re wrong!”
+
+“Not got a sort of kindly feeling for one another?”
+
+“Certainly not,” said Tuppence with warmth. “Tommy and I are
+friends--nothing more.”
+
+“I guess every pair of lovers has said that sometime or another,”
+ observed Julius.
+
+“Nonsense!” snapped Tuppence. “Do I look the sort of girl that’s always
+falling in love with every man she meets?”
+
+“You do not. You look the sort of girl that’s mighty often getting
+fallen in love with!”
+
+“Oh!” said Tuppence, rather taken aback. “That’s a compliment, I
+suppose?”
+
+“Sure. Now let’s get down to this. Supposing we never find Beresford
+and--and----”
+
+“All right--say it! I can face facts. Supposing he’s--dead! Well?”
+
+“And all this business fiddles out. What are you going to do?”
+
+“I don’t know,” said Tuppence forlornly.
+
+“You’ll be darned lonesome, you poor kid.”
+
+“I shall be all right,” snapped Tuppence with her usual resentment of
+any kind of pity.
+
+“What about marriage?” inquired Julius. “Got any views on the subject?”
+
+“I intend to marry, of course,” replied Tuppence. “That is, if”--she
+paused, knew a momentary longing to draw back, and then stuck to her
+guns bravely--“I can find some one rich enough to make it worth my
+while. That’s frank, isn’t it? I dare say you despise me for it.”
+
+“I never despise business instinct,” said Julius. “What particular
+figure have you in mind?”
+
+“Figure?” asked Tuppence, puzzled. “Do you mean tall or short?”
+
+“No. Sum--income.”
+
+“Oh, I--I haven’t quite worked that out.”
+
+“What about me?”
+
+_“You?”_
+
+“Sure thing.”
+
+“Oh, I couldn’t!”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“I tell you I couldn’t.”
+
+“Again, why not?”
+
+“It would seem so unfair.”
+
+“I don’t see anything unfair about it. I call your bluff, that’s all. I
+admire you immensely, Miss Tuppence, more than any girl I’ve ever met.
+You’re so darned plucky. I’d just love to give you a real, rattling good
+time. Say the word, and we’ll run round right away to some high-class
+jeweller, and fix up the ring business.”
+
+“I can’t,” gasped Tuppence.
+
+“Because of Beresford?”
+
+“No, no, _no!_”
+
+“Well then?”
+
+Tuppence merely continued to shake her head violently.
+
+“You can’t reasonably expect more dollars than I’ve got.”
+
+“Oh, it isn’t that,” gasped Tuppence with an almost hysterical laugh.
+“But thanking you very much, and all that, I think I’d better say no.”
+
+“I’d be obliged if you’d do me the favour to think it over until
+to-morrow.”
+
+“It’s no use.”
+
+“Still, I guess we’ll leave it like that.”
+
+“Very well,” said Tuppence meekly.
+
+Neither of them spoke again until they reached the _Ritz_.
+
+Tuppence went upstairs to her room. She felt morally battered to the
+ground after her conflict with Julius’s vigorous personality. Sitting
+down in front of the glass, she stared at her own reflection for some
+minutes.
+
+“Fool,” murmured Tuppence at length, making a grimace. “Little fool.
+Everything you want--everything you’ve ever hoped for, and you go and
+bleat out ‘no’ like an idiotic little sheep. It’s your one chance. Why
+don’t you take it? Grab it? Snatch at it? What more do you want?”
+
+As if in answer to her own question, her eyes fell on a small snapshot
+of Tommy that stood on her dressing-table in a shabby frame. For a
+moment she struggled for self-control, and then abandoning all presence,
+she held it to her lips and burst into a fit of sobbing.
+
+“Oh, Tommy, Tommy,” she cried, “I do love you so--and I may never see
+you again....”
+
+At the end of five minutes Tuppence sat up, blew her nose, and pushed
+back her hair.
+
+“That’s that,” she observed sternly. “Let’s look facts in the face. I
+seem to have fallen in love--with an idiot of a boy who probably doesn’t
+care two straws about me.” Here she paused. “Anyway,” she resumed, as
+though arguing with an unseen opponent, “I don’t _know_ that he does.
+He’d never have dared to say so. I’ve always jumped on sentiment--and
+here I am being more sentimental than anybody. What idiots girls are!
+I’ve always thought so. I suppose I shall sleep with his photograph
+under my pillow, and dream about him all night. It’s dreadful to feel
+you’ve been false to your principles.”
+
+Tuppence shook her head sadly, as she reviewed her backsliding.
+
+“I don’t know what to say to Julius, I’m sure. Oh, what a fool I feel!
+I’ll have to say _something_--he’s so American and thorough, he’ll
+insist upon having a reason. I wonder if he did find anything in that
+safe----”
+
+Tuppence’s meditations went off on another tack. She reviewed the events
+of last night carefully and persistently. Somehow, they seemed bound up
+with Sir James’s enigmatical words....
+
+Suddenly she gave a great start--the colour faded out of her face. Her
+eyes, fascinated, gazed in front of her, the pupils dilated.
+
+“Impossible,” she murmured. “Impossible! I must be going mad even to
+think of such a thing....”
+
+Monstrous--yet it explained everything....
+
+After a moment’s reflection she sat down and wrote a note, weighing each
+word as she did so. Finally she nodded her head as though satisfied, and
+slipped it into an envelope which she addressed to Julius. She went
+down the passage to his sitting-room and knocked at the door. As she had
+expected, the room was empty. She left the note on the table.
+
+A small page-boy was waiting outside her own door when she returned to
+it.
+
+“Telegram for you, miss.”
+
+Tuppence took it from the salver, and tore it open carelessly. Then she
+gave a cry. The telegram was from Tommy!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOMMY
+
+FROM a darkness punctuated with throbbing stabs of fire, Tommy dragged
+his senses slowly back to life. When he at last opened his eyes, he was
+conscious of nothing but an excruciating pain through his temples. He
+was vaguely aware of unfamiliar surroundings. Where was he? What had
+happened? He blinked feebly. This was not his bedroom at the _Ritz_. And
+what the devil was the matter with his head?
+
+“Damn!” said Tommy, and tried to sit up. He had remembered. He was in
+that sinister house in Soho. He uttered a groan and fell back. Through
+his almost-closed lids he reconnoitred carefully.
+
+“He is coming to,” remarked a voice very near Tommy’s ear. He recognized
+it at once for that of the bearded and efficient German, and lay
+artistically inert. He felt that it would be a pity to come round too
+soon; and until the pain in his head became a little less acute, he felt
+quite incapable of collecting his wits. Painfully he tried to puzzle out
+what had happened. Obviously somebody must have crept up behind him as
+he listened and struck him down with a blow on the head. They knew
+him now for a spy, and would in all probability give him short shrift.
+Undoubtedly he was in a tight place. Nobody knew where he was, therefore
+he need expect no outside assistance, and must depend solely on his own
+wits.
+
+“Well, here goes,” murmured Tommy to himself, and repeated his former
+remark.
+
+“Damn!” he observed, and this time succeeded in sitting up.
+
+In a minute the German stepped forward and placed a glass to his lips,
+with the brief command “Drink.” Tommy obeyed. The potency of the draught
+made him choke, but it cleared his brain in a marvellous manner.
+
+He was lying on a couch in the room in which the meeting had been held.
+On one side of him was the German, on the other the villainous-faced
+doorkeeper who had let him in. The others were grouped together at a
+little distance away. But Tommy missed one face. The man known as Number
+One was no longer of the company.
+
+“Feel better?” asked the German, as he removed the empty glass.
+
+“Yes, thanks,” returned Tommy cheerfully.
+
+“Ah, my young friend, it is lucky for you your skull is so thick. The
+good Conrad struck hard.” He indicated the evil-faced doorkeeper by a
+nod. The man grinned.
+
+Tommy twisted his head round with an effort.
+
+“Oh,” he said, “so you’re Conrad, are you? It strikes me the thickness
+of my skull was lucky for you too. When I look at you I feel it’s almost
+a pity I’ve enabled you to cheat the hangman.”
+
+The man snarled, and the bearded man said quietly:
+
+“He would have run no risk of that.”
+
+“Just as you like,” replied Tommy. “I know it’s the fashion to run down
+the police. I rather believe in them myself.”
+
+His manner was nonchalant to the last degree. Tommy Beresford was one
+of those young Englishmen not distinguished by any special intellectual
+ability, but who are emphatically at their best in what is known as a
+“tight place.” Their natural diffidence and caution fall from them like
+a glove. Tommy realized perfectly that in his own wits lay the only
+chance of escape, and behind his casual manner he was racking his brains
+furiously.
+
+The cold accents of the German took up the conversation:
+
+“Have you anything to say before you are put to death as a spy?”
+
+“Simply lots of things,” replied Tommy with the same urbanity as before.
+
+“Do you deny that you were listening at that door?”
+
+“I do not. I must really apologize--but your conversation was so
+interesting that it overcame my scruples.”
+
+“How did you get in?”
+
+“Dear old Conrad here.” Tommy smiled deprecatingly at him. “I hesitate
+to suggest pensioning off a faithful servant, but you really ought to
+have a better watchdog.”
+
+Conrad snarled impotently, and said sullenly, as the man with the beard
+swung round upon him:
+
+“He gave the word. How was I to know?”
+
+“Yes,” Tommy chimed in. “How was he to know? Don’t blame the poor
+fellow. His hasty action has given me the pleasure of seeing you all
+face to face.”
+
+He fancied that his words caused some discomposure among the group, but
+the watchful German stilled it with a wave of his hand.
+
+“Dead men tell no tales,” he said evenly.
+
+“Ah,” said Tommy, “but I’m not dead yet!”
+
+“You soon will be, my young friend,” said the German.
+
+An assenting murmur came from the others.
+
+Tommy’s heart beat faster, but his casual pleasantness did not waver.
+
+“I think not,” he said firmly. “I should have a great objection to
+dying.”
+
+He had got them puzzled, he saw that by the look on his captor’s face.
+
+“Can you give us any reason why we should not put you to death?” asked
+the German.
+
+“Several,” replied Tommy. “Look here, you’ve been asking me a lot of
+questions. Let me ask you one for a change. Why didn’t you kill me off
+at once before I regained consciousness?”
+
+The German hesitated, and Tommy seized his advantage.
+
+“Because you didn’t know how much I knew--and where I obtained that
+knowledge. If you kill me now, you never will know.”
+
+But here the emotions of Boris became too much for him. He stepped
+forward waving his arms.
+
+“You hell-hound of a spy,” he screamed. “We will give you short shrift.
+Kill him! Kill him!”
+
+There was a roar of applause.
+
+“You hear?” said the German, his eyes on Tommy. “What have you to say to
+that?”
+
+“Say?” Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “Pack of fools. Let them ask
+themselves a few questions. How did I get into this place? Remember what
+dear old Conrad said-- _with your own password_, wasn’t it? How did I
+get hold of that? You don’t suppose I came up those steps haphazard and
+said the first thing that came into my head?”
+
+Tommy was pleased with the concluding words of this speech. His only
+regret was that Tuppence was not present to appreciate its full flavour.
+
+“That is true,” said the working man suddenly. “Comrades, we have been
+betrayed!”
+
+An ugly murmur arose. Tommy smiled at them encouragingly.
+
+“That’s better. How can you hope to make a success of any job if you
+don’t use your brains?”
+
+“You will tell us who has betrayed us,” said the German. “But that shall
+not save you--oh, no! You shall tell us all that you know. Boris, here,
+knows pretty ways of making people speak!”
+
+“Bah!” said Tommy scornfully, fighting down a singularly unpleasant
+feeling in the pit of his stomach. “You will neither torture me nor kill
+me.”
+
+“And why not?” asked Boris.
+
+“Because you’d kill the goose that lays the golden eggs,” replied Tommy
+quietly.
+
+There was a momentary pause. It seemed as though Tommy’s persistent
+assurance was at last conquering. They were no longer completely sure of
+themselves. The man in the shabby clothes stared at Tommy searchingly.
+
+“He’s bluffing you, Boris,” he said quietly.
+
+Tommy hated him. Had the man seen through him?
+
+The German, with an effort, turned roughly to Tommy.
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“What do you think I mean?” parried Tommy, searching desperately in his
+own mind.
+
+Suddenly Boris stepped forward, and shook his fist in Tommy’s face.
+
+“Speak, you swine of an Englishman--speak!”
+
+“Don’t get so excited, my good fellow,” said Tommy calmly. “That’s the
+worst of you foreigners. You can’t keep calm. Now, I ask you, do I look
+as though I thought there were the least chance of your killing me?”
+
+He looked confidently round, and was glad they could not hear the
+persistent beating of his heart which gave the lie to his words.
+
+“No,” admitted Boris at last sullenly, “you do not.”
+
+“Thank God, he’s not a mind reader,” thought Tommy. Aloud he pursued his
+advantage:
+
+“And why am I so confident? Because I know something that puts me in a
+position to propose a bargain.”
+
+“A bargain?” The bearded man took him up sharply.
+
+“Yes--a bargain. My life and liberty against----” He paused.
+
+“Against what?”
+
+The group pressed forward. You could have heard a pin drop.
+
+Slowly Tommy spoke.
+
+“The papers that Danvers brought over from America in the _Lusitania_.”
+
+The effect of his words was electrical. Every one was on his feet.
+The German waved them back. He leaned over Tommy, his face purple with
+excitement.
+
+“_Himmel!_ You have got them, then?”
+
+With magnificent calm Tommy shook his head.
+
+“You know where they are?” persisted the German.
+
+Again Tommy shook his head. “Not in the least.”
+
+“Then--then----” angry and baffled, the words failed him.
+
+Tommy looked round. He saw anger and bewilderment on every face, but his
+calm assurance had done its work--no one doubted but that something lay
+behind his words.
+
+“I don’t know where the papers are--but I believe that I can find them.
+I have a theory----”
+
+“Pah!”
+
+Tommy raised his hand, and silenced the clamours of disgust.
+
+“I call it a theory--but I’m pretty sure of my facts--facts that are
+known to no one but myself. In any case what do you lose? If I can
+produce the papers--you give me my life and liberty in exchange. Is it a
+bargain?”
+
+“And if we refuse?” said the German quietly.
+
+Tommy lay back on the couch.
+
+“The 29th,” he said thoughtfully, “is less than a fortnight ahead----”
+
+For a moment the German hesitated. Then he made a sign to Conrad.
+
+“Take him into the other room.”
+
+For five minutes, Tommy sat on the bed in the dingy room next door. His
+heart was beating violently. He had risked all on this throw. How would
+they decide? And all the while that this agonized questioning went on
+within him, he talked flippantly to Conrad, enraging the cross-grained
+doorkeeper to the point of homicidal mania.
+
+At last the door opened, and the German called imperiously to Conrad to
+return.
+
+“Let’s hope the judge hasn’t put his black cap on,” remarked Tommy
+frivolously. “That’s right, Conrad, march me in. The prisoner is at the
+bar, gentlemen.”
+
+The German was seated once more behind the table. He motioned to Tommy
+to sit down opposite to him.
+
+“We accept,” he said harshly, “on terms. The papers must be delivered to
+us before you go free.”
+
+“Idiot!” said Tommy amiably. “How do you think I can look for them if
+you keep me tied by the leg here?”
+
+“What do you expect, then?”
+
+“I must have liberty to go about the business in my own way.”
+
+The German laughed.
+
+“Do you think we are little children to let you walk out of here leaving
+us a pretty story full of promises?”
+
+“No,” said Tommy thoughtfully. “Though infinitely simpler for me, I
+did not really think you would agree to that plan. Very well, we must
+arrange a compromise. How would it be if you attached little Conrad here
+to my person. He’s a faithful fellow, and very ready with the fist.”
+
+“We prefer,” said the German coldly, “that you should remain here.
+One of our number will carry out your instructions minutely. If the
+operations are complicated, he will return to you with a report and you
+can instruct him further.”
+
+“You’re tying my hands,” complained Tommy. “It’s a very delicate affair,
+and the other fellow will muff it up as likely as not, and then where
+shall I be? I don’t believe one of you has got an ounce of tact.”
+
+The German rapped the table.
+
+“Those are our terms. Otherwise, death!”
+
+Tommy leaned back wearily.
+
+“I like your style. Curt, but attractive. So be it, then. But one thing
+is essential, I must see the girl.”
+
+“What girl?”
+
+“Jane Finn, of course.”
+
+The other looked at him curiously for some minutes, then he said slowly,
+and as though choosing his words with care:
+
+“Do you not know that she can tell you nothing?”
+
+Tommy’s heart beat a little faster. Would he succeed in coming face to
+face with the girl he was seeking?
+
+“I shall not ask her to tell me anything,” he said quietly. “Not in so
+many words, that is.”
+
+“Then why see her?”
+
+Tommy paused.
+
+“To watch her face when I ask her one question,” he replied at last.
+
+Again there was a look in the German’s eyes that Tommy did not quite
+understand.
+
+“She will not be able to answer your question.”
+
+“That does not matter. I shall have seen her face when I ask it.”
+
+“And you think that will tell you anything?” He gave a short
+disagreeable laugh. More than ever, Tommy felt that there was a
+factor somewhere that he did not understand. The German looked at
+him searchingly. “I wonder whether, after all, you know as much as we
+think?” he said softly.
+
+Tommy felt his ascendancy less sure than a moment before. His hold had
+slipped a little. But he was puzzled. What had he said wrong? He spoke
+out on the impulse of the moment.
+
+“There may be things that you know which I do not. I have not pretended
+to be aware of all the details of your show. But equally I’ve got
+something up my sleeve that _you_ don’t know about. And that’s where I
+mean to score. Danvers was a damned clever fellow----” He broke off as
+if he had said too much.
+
+But the German’s face had lightened a little.
+
+“Danvers,” he murmured. “I see----” He paused a minute, then waved to
+Conrad. “Take him away. Upstairs--you know.”
+
+“Wait a minute,” said Tommy. “What about the girl?”
+
+“That may perhaps be arranged.”
+
+“It must be.”
+
+“We will see about it. Only one person can decide that.”
+
+“Who?” asked Tommy. But he knew the answer.
+
+“Mr. Brown----”
+
+“Shall I see him?”
+
+“Perhaps.”
+
+“Come,” said Conrad harshly.
+
+Tommy rose obediently. Outside the door his gaoler motioned to him to
+mount the stairs. He himself followed close behind. On the floor above
+Conrad opened a door and Tommy passed into a small room. Conrad lit a
+hissing gas burner and went out. Tommy heard the sound of the key being
+turned in the lock.
+
+He set to work to examine his prison. It was a smaller room than the
+one downstairs, and there was something peculiarly airless about the
+atmosphere of it. Then he realized that there was no window. He walked
+round it. The walls were filthily dirty, as everywhere else. Four
+pictures hung crookedly on the wall representing scenes from Faust.
+Marguerite with her box of jewels, the church scene, Siebel and his
+flowers, and Faust and Mephistopheles. The latter brought Tommy’s mind
+back to Mr. Brown again. In this sealed and closed chamber, with its
+close-fitting heavy door, he felt cut off from the world, and the
+sinister power of the arch-criminal seemed more real. Shout as he would,
+no one could ever hear him. The place was a living tomb....
+
+With an effort Tommy pulled himself together. He sank on to the bed
+and gave himself up to reflection. His head ached badly; also, he was
+hungry. The silence of the place was dispiriting.
+
+“Anyway,” said Tommy, trying to cheer himself, “I shall see the
+chief--the mysterious Mr. Brown and with a bit of luck in bluffing I
+shall see the mysterious Jane Finn also. After that----”
+
+After that Tommy was forced to admit the prospect looked dreary.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. ANNETTE
+
+THE troubles of the future, however, soon faded before the troubles of
+the present. And of these, the most immediate and pressing was that of
+hunger. Tommy had a healthy and vigorous appetite. The steak and
+chips partaken of for lunch seemed now to belong to another decade. He
+regretfully recognized the fact that he would not make a success of a
+hunger strike.
+
+He prowled aimlessly about his prison. Once or twice he discarded
+dignity, and pounded on the door. But nobody answered the summons.
+
+“Hang it all!” said Tommy indignantly. “They can’t mean to starve me
+to death.” A new-born fear passed through his mind that this might,
+perhaps, be one of those “pretty ways” of making a prisoner speak, which
+had been attributed to Boris. But on reflection he dismissed the idea.
+
+“It’s that sour-faced brute Conrad,” he decided. “That’s a fellow I
+shall enjoy getting even with one of these days. This is just a bit of
+spite on his part. I’m certain of it.”
+
+Further meditations induced in him the feeling that it would be
+extremely pleasant to bring something down with a whack on Conrad’s
+egg-shaped head. Tommy stroked his own head tenderly, and gave himself
+up to the pleasures of imagination. Finally a bright idea flashed
+across his brain. Why not convert imagination into reality? Conrad
+was undoubtedly the tenant of the house. The others, with the possible
+exception of the bearded German, merely used it as a rendezvous.
+Therefore, why not wait in ambush for Conrad behind the door, and when
+he entered bring down a chair, or one of the decrepit pictures, smartly
+on to his head. One would, of course, be careful not to hit too hard.
+And then--and then, simply walk out! If he met anyone on the way down,
+well---- Tommy brightened at the thought of an encounter with his fists.
+Such an affair was infinitely more in his line than the verbal encounter
+of this afternoon. Intoxicated by his plan, Tommy gently unhooked the
+picture of the Devil and Faust, and settled himself in position. His
+hopes were high. The plan seemed to him simple but excellent.
+
+Time went on, but Conrad did not appear. Night and day were the same
+in this prison room, but Tommy’s wrist-watch, which enjoyed a certain
+degree of accuracy, informed him that it was nine o’clock in the
+evening. Tommy reflected gloomily that if supper did not arrive soon
+it would be a question of waiting for breakfast. At ten o’clock hope
+deserted him, and he flung himself on the bed to seek consolation in
+sleep. In five minutes his woes were forgotten.
+
+The sound of the key turning in the lock awoke him from his slumbers.
+Not belonging to the type of hero who is famous for awaking in full
+possession of his faculties, Tommy merely blinked at the ceiling and
+wondered vaguely where he was. Then he remembered, and looked at his
+watch. It was eight o’clock.
+
+“It’s either early morning tea or breakfast,” deduced the young man,
+“and pray God it’s the latter!”
+
+The door swung open. Too late, Tommy remembered his scheme of
+obliterating the unprepossessing Conrad. A moment later he was glad that
+he had, for it was not Conrad who entered, but a girl. She carried a
+tray which she set down on the table.
+
+In the feeble light of the gas burner Tommy blinked at her. He decided
+at once that she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.
+Her hair was a full rich brown, with sudden glints of gold in it as
+though there were imprisoned sunbeams struggling in its depths. There
+was a wild-rose quality about her face. Her eyes, set wide apart, were
+hazel, a golden hazel that again recalled a memory of sunbeams.
+
+A delirious thought shot through Tommy’s mind.
+
+“Are you Jane Finn?” he asked breathlessly.
+
+The girl shook her head wonderingly.
+
+“My name is Annette, monsieur.”
+
+She spoke in a soft, broken English.
+
+“Oh!” said Tommy, rather taken aback. _“Française?”_ he hazarded.
+
+“Oui, monsieur. Monsieur parle français?”
+
+“Not for any length of time,” said Tommy. “What’s that? Breakfast?”
+
+The girl nodded. Tommy dropped off the bed and came and inspected the
+contents of the tray. It consisted of a loaf, some margarine, and a jug
+of coffee.
+
+“The living is not equal to the _Ritz_,” he observed with a sigh. “But
+for what we are at last about to receive the Lord has made me truly
+thankful. Amen.”
+
+He drew up a chair, and the girl turned away to the door.
+
+“Wait a sec,” cried Tommy. “There are lots of things I want to ask you,
+Annette. What are you doing in this house? Don’t tell me you’re Conrad’s
+niece, or daughter, or anything, because I can’t believe it.”
+
+“I do the _service_, monsieur. I am not related to anybody.”
+
+“I see,” said Tommy. “You know what I asked you just now. Have you ever
+heard that name?”
+
+“I have heard people speak of Jane Finn, I think.”
+
+“You don’t know where she is?”
+
+Annette shook her head.
+
+“She’s not in this house, for instance?”
+
+“Oh no, monsieur. I must go now--they will be waiting for me.”
+
+She hurried out. The key turned in the lock.
+
+“I wonder who ‘they’ are,” mused Tommy, as he continued to make inroads
+on the loaf. “With a bit of luck, that girl might help me to get out of
+here. She doesn’t look like one of the gang.”
+
+At one o’clock Annette reappeared with another tray, but this time
+Conrad accompanied her.
+
+“Good morning,” said Tommy amiably. “You have _not_ used Pear’s soap, I
+see.”
+
+Conrad growled threateningly.
+
+“No light repartee, have you, old bean? There, there, we can’t always
+have brains as well as beauty. What have we for lunch? Stew? How did I
+know? Elementary, my dear Watson--the smell of onions is unmistakable.”
+
+“Talk away,” grunted the man. “It’s little enough time you’ll have to
+talk in, maybe.”
+
+The remark was unpleasant in its suggestion, but Tommy ignored it. He
+sat down at the table.
+
+“Retire, varlet,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “Prate not to thy
+betters.”
+
+That evening Tommy sat on the bed, and cogitated deeply. Would Conrad
+again accompany the girl? If he did not, should he risk trying to make
+an ally of her? He decided that he must leave no stone unturned. His
+position was desperate.
+
+At eight o’clock the familiar sound of the key turning made him spring
+to his feet. The girl was alone.
+
+“Shut the door,” he commanded. “I want to speak to you.” She obeyed.
+
+“Look here, Annette, I want you to help me get out of this.” She shook
+her head.
+
+“Impossible. There are three of them on the floor below.”
+
+“Oh!” Tommy was secretly grateful for the information. “But you would
+help me if you could?”
+
+“No, monsieur.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+The girl hesitated.
+
+“I think--they are my own people. You have spied upon them. They are
+quite right to keep you here.”
+
+“They’re a bad lot, Annette. If you’ll help me, I’ll take you away from
+the lot of them. And you’d probably get a good whack of money.”
+
+But the girl merely shook her head.
+
+“I dare not, monsieur; I am afraid of them.”
+
+She turned away.
+
+“Wouldn’t you do anything to help another girl?” cried Tommy. “She’s
+about your age too. Won’t you save her from their clutches?”
+
+“You mean Jane Finn?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“It is her you came here to look for? Yes?”
+
+“That’s it.”
+
+The girl looked at him, then passed her hand across her forehead.
+
+“Jane Finn. Always I hear that name. It is familiar.”
+
+Tommy came forward eagerly.
+
+“You must know _something_ about her?”
+
+But the girl turned away abruptly.
+
+“I know nothing--only the name.” She walked towards the door. Suddenly
+she uttered a cry. Tommy stared. She had caught sight of the picture
+he had laid against the wall the night before. For a moment he caught a
+look of terror in her eyes. As inexplicably it changed to relief. Then
+abruptly she went out of the room. Tommy could make nothing of it. Did
+she fancy that he had meant to attack her with it? Surely not. He rehung
+the picture on the wall thoughtfully.
+
+Three more days went by in dreary inaction. Tommy felt the strain
+telling on his nerves. He saw no one but Conrad and Annette, and the
+girl had become dumb. She spoke only in monosyllables. A kind of dark
+suspicion smouldered in her eyes. Tommy felt that if this solitary
+confinement went on much longer he would go mad. He gathered from Conrad
+that they were waiting for orders from “Mr. Brown.” Perhaps, thought
+Tommy, he was abroad or away, and they were obliged to wait for his
+return.
+
+But the evening of the third day brought a rude awakening.
+
+It was barely seven o’clock when he heard the tramp of footsteps outside
+in the passage. In another minute the door was flung open. Conrad
+entered. With him was the evil-looking Number 14. Tommy’s heart sank at
+the sight of them.
+
+“Evenin’, gov’nor,” said the man with a leer. “Got those ropes, mate?”
+
+The silent Conrad produced a length of fine cord. The next minute Number
+14’s hands, horribly dexterous, were winding the cord round his limbs,
+while Conrad held him down.
+
+“What the devil----?” began Tommy.
+
+But the slow, speechless grin of the silent Conrad froze the words on
+his lips.
+
+Number 14 proceeded deftly with his task. In another minute Tommy was a
+mere helpless bundle. Then at last Conrad spoke:
+
+“Thought you’d bluffed us, did you? With what you knew, and what you
+didn’t know. Bargained with us! And all the time it was bluff! Bluff!
+You know less than a kitten. But your number’s up now all right, you
+b---- swine.”
+
+Tommy lay silent. There was nothing to say. He had failed. Somehow
+or other the omnipotent Mr. Brown had seen through his pretensions.
+Suddenly a thought occurred to him.
+
+“A very good speech, Conrad,” he said approvingly. “But wherefore the
+bonds and fetters? Why not let this kind gentleman here cut my throat
+without delay?”
+
+“Garn,” said Number 14 unexpectedly. “Think we’re as green as to do you
+in here, and have the police nosing round? Not ‘alf! We’ve ordered the
+carriage for your lordship to-morrow mornin’, but in the meantime we’re
+not taking any chances, see!”
+
+“Nothing,” said Tommy, “could be plainer than your words--unless it was
+your face.”
+
+“Stow it,” said Number 14.
+
+“With pleasure,” replied Tommy. “You’re making a sad mistake--but yours
+will be the loss.”
+
+“You don’t kid us that way again,” said Number 14. “Talking as though
+you were still at the blooming _Ritz_, aren’t you?”
+
+Tommy made no reply. He was engaged in wondering how Mr. Brown had
+discovered his identity. He decided that Tuppence, in the throes of
+anxiety, had gone to the police, and that his disappearance having been
+made public the gang had not been slow to put two and two together.
+
+The two men departed and the door slammed. Tommy was left to his
+meditations. They were not pleasant ones. Already his limbs felt cramped
+and stiff. He was utterly helpless, and he could see no hope anywhere.
+
+About an hour had passed when he heard the key softly turned, and the
+door opened. It was Annette. Tommy’s heart beat a little faster. He had
+forgotten the girl. Was it possible that she had come to his help?
+
+Suddenly he heard Conrad’s voice:
+
+“Come out of it, Annette. He doesn’t want any supper to-night.”
+
+“Oui, oui, je sais bien. But I must take the other tray. We need the
+things on it.”
+
+“Well, hurry up,” growled Conrad.
+
+Without looking at Tommy the girl went over to the table, and picked up
+the tray. She raised a hand and turned out the light.
+
+“Curse you”--Conrad had come to the door--“why did you do that?”
+
+“I always turn it out. You should have told me. Shall I relight it,
+Monsieur Conrad?”
+
+“No, come on out of it.”
+
+“Le beau petit monsieur,” cried Annette, pausing by the bed in the
+darkness. “You have tied him up well, _hein?_ He is like a trussed
+chicken!” The frank amusement in her tone jarred on the boy; but at
+that moment, to his amazement, he felt her hand running lightly over
+his bonds, and something small and cold was pressed into the palm of his
+hand.
+
+“Come on, Annette.”
+
+“Mais me voilà.”
+
+The door shut. Tommy heard Conrad say:
+
+“Lock it and give me the key.”
+
+The footsteps died away. Tommy lay petrified with amazement. The object
+Annette had thrust into his hand was a small penknife, the blade open.
+From the way she had studiously avoided looking at him, and her action
+with the light, he came to the conclusion that the room was overlooked.
+There must be a peep-hole somewhere in the walls. Remembering how
+guarded she had always been in her manner, he saw that he had probably
+been under observation all the time. Had he said anything to give
+himself away? Hardly. He had revealed a wish to escape and a desire
+to find Jane Finn, but nothing that could have given a clue to his
+own identity. True, his question to Annette had proved that he was
+personally unacquainted with Jane Finn, but he had never pretended
+otherwise. The question now was, did Annette really know more? Were her
+denials intended primarily for the listeners? On that point he could
+come to no conclusion.
+
+But there was a more vital question that drove out all others. Could he,
+bound as he was, manage to cut his bonds? He essayed cautiously to
+rub the open blade up and down on the cord that bound his two wrists
+together. It was an awkward business, and drew a smothered “Ow” of pain
+from him as the knife cut into his wrist. But slowly and doggedly he
+went on sawing to and fro. He cut the flesh badly, but at last he felt
+the cord slacken. With his hands free, the rest was easy. Five minutes
+later he stood upright with some difficulty, owing to the cramp in his
+limbs. His first care was to bind up his bleeding wrist. Then he sat on
+the edge of the bed to think. Conrad had taken the key of the door, so
+he could expect little more assistance from Annette. The only outlet
+from the room was the door, consequently he would perforce have to wait
+until the two men returned to fetch him. But when they did.... Tommy
+smiled! Moving with infinite caution in the dark room, he found and
+unhooked the famous picture. He felt an economical pleasure that his
+first plan would not be wasted. There was now nothing to do but to wait.
+He waited.
+
+The night passed slowly. Tommy lived through an eternity of hours, but
+at last he heard footsteps. He stood upright, drew a deep breath, and
+clutched the picture firmly.
+
+The door opened. A faint light streamed in from outside. Conrad went
+straight towards the gas to light it. Tommy deeply regretted that it was
+he who had entered first. It would have been pleasant to get even with
+Conrad. Number 14 followed. As he stepped across the threshold, Tommy
+brought the picture down with terrific force on his head. Number 14 went
+down amidst a stupendous crash of broken glass. In a minute Tommy had
+slipped out and pulled to the door. The key was in the lock. He turned
+it and withdrew it just as Conrad hurled himself against the door from
+the inside with a volley of curses.
+
+For a moment Tommy hesitated. There was the sound of some one stirring
+on the floor below. Then the German’s voice came up the stairs.
+
+“Gott im Himmel! Conrad, what is it?”
+
+Tommy felt a small hand thrust into his. Beside him stood Annette. She
+pointed up a rickety ladder that apparently led to some attics.
+
+“Quick--up here!” She dragged him after her up the ladder. In another
+moment they were standing in a dusty garret littered with lumber. Tommy
+looked round.
+
+“This won’t do. It’s a regular trap. There’s no way out.”
+
+“Hush! Wait.” The girl put her finger to her lips. She crept to the top
+of the ladder and listened.
+
+The banging and beating on the door was terrific. The German and another
+were trying to force the door in. Annette explained in a whisper:
+
+“They will think you are still inside. They cannot hear what Conrad
+says. The door is too thick.”
+
+“I thought you could hear what went on in the room?”
+
+“There is a peep-hole into the next room. It was clever of you to guess.
+But they will not think of that--they are only anxious to get in.”
+
+“Yes--but look here----”
+
+“Leave it to me.” She bent down. To his amazement, Tommy saw that she
+was fastening the end of a long piece of string to the handle of a big
+cracked jug. She arranged it carefully, then turned to Tommy.
+
+“Have you the key of the door?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Give it to me.”
+
+He handed it to her.
+
+“I am going down. Do you think you can go halfway, and then swing
+yourself down _behind_ the ladder, so that they will not see you?”
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“There’s a big cupboard in the shadow of the landing. Stand behind it.
+Take the end of this string in your hand. When I’ve let the others out--
+_pull! _”
+
+Before he had time to ask her anything more, she had flitted lightly
+down the ladder and was in the midst of the group with a loud cry:
+
+“Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?”
+
+The German turned on her with an oath.
+
+“Get out of this. Go to your room!”
+
+Very cautiously Tommy swung himself down the back of the ladder. So
+long as they did not turn round ... all was well. He crouched behind the
+cupboard. They were still between him and the stairs.
+
+“Ah!” Annette appeared to stumble over something. She stooped. “Mon
+Dieu, voilà la clef!”
+
+The German snatched it from her. He unlocked the door. Conrad stumbled
+out, swearing.
+
+“Where is he? Have you got him?”
+
+“We have seen no one,” said the German sharply. His face paled. “Who do
+you mean?”
+
+Conrad gave vent to another oath.
+
+“He’s got away.”
+
+“Impossible. He would have passed us.”
+
+At that moment, with an ecstatic smile Tommy pulled the string. A crash
+of crockery came from the attic above. In a trice the men were pushing
+each other up the rickety ladder and had disappeared into the darkness
+above.
+
+Quick as a flash Tommy leapt from his hiding-place and dashed down the
+stairs, pulling the girl with him. There was no one in the hall. He
+fumbled over the bolts and chain. At last they yielded, the door swung
+open. He turned. Annette had disappeared.
+
+Tommy stood spell-bound. Had she run upstairs again? What madness
+possessed her! He fumed with impatience, but he stood his ground. He
+would not go without her.
+
+And suddenly there was an outcry overhead, an exclamation from the
+German, and then Annette’s voice, clear and high:
+
+“Ma foi, he has escaped! And quickly! Who would have thought it?”
+
+Tommy still stood rooted to the ground. Was that a command to him to go?
+He fancied it was.
+
+And then, louder still, the words floated down to him:
+
+“This is a terrible house. I want to go back to Marguerite. To
+Marguerite. _To Marguerite!_”
+
+Tommy had run back to the stairs. She wanted him to go and leave her.
+But why? At all costs he must try and get her away with him. Then his
+heart sank. Conrad was leaping down the stairs, uttering a savage cry at
+the sight of him. After him came the others.
+
+Tommy stopped Conrad’s rush with a straight blow with his fist. It
+caught the other on the point of the jaw and he fell like a log. The
+second man tripped over his body and fell. From higher up the staircase
+there was a flash, and a bullet grazed Tommy’s ear. He realized that
+it would be good for his health to get out of this house as soon as
+possible. As regards Annette he could do nothing. He had got even with
+Conrad, which was one satisfaction. The blow had been a good one.
+
+He leapt for the door, slamming it behind him. The square was deserted.
+In front of the house was a baker’s van. Evidently he was to have been
+taken out of London in that, and his body found many miles from the
+house in Soho. The driver jumped to the pavement and tried to bar
+Tommy’s way. Again Tommy’s fist shot out, and the driver sprawled on the
+pavement.
+
+Tommy took to his heels and ran--none too soon. The front door opened
+and a hail of bullets followed him. Fortunately none of them hit him. He
+turned the corner of the square.
+
+“There’s one thing,” he thought to himself, “they can’t go on shooting.
+They’ll have the police after them if they do. I wonder they dared to
+there.”
+
+He heard the footsteps of his pursuers behind him, and redoubled his own
+pace. Once he got out of these by-ways he would be safe. There would be
+a policeman about somewhere--not that he really wanted to invoke the aid
+of the police if he could possibly do without it. It meant explanations,
+and general awkwardness. In another moment he had reason to bless his
+luck. He stumbled over a prostrate figure, which started up with a yell
+of alarm and dashed off down the street. Tommy drew back into a doorway.
+In a minute he had the pleasure of seeing his two pursuers, of whom the
+German was one, industriously tracking down the red herring!
+
+Tommy sat down quietly on the doorstep and allowed a few moments to
+elapse while he recovered his breath. Then he strolled gently in the
+opposite direction. He glanced at his watch. It was a little after
+half-past five. It was rapidly growing light. At the next corner he
+passed a policeman. The policeman cast a suspicious eye on him. Tommy
+felt slightly offended. Then, passing his hand over his face, he
+laughed. He had not shaved or washed for three days! What a guy he must
+look.
+
+He betook himself without more ado to a Turkish Bath establishment which
+he knew to be open all night. He emerged into the busy daylight feeling
+himself once more, and able to make plans.
+
+First of all, he must have a square meal. He had eaten nothing since
+midday yesterday. He turned into an A.B.C. shop and ordered eggs and
+bacon and coffee. Whilst he ate, he read a morning paper propped up
+in front of him. Suddenly he stiffened. There was a long article on
+Kramenin, who was described as the “man behind Bolshevism” in Russia,
+and who had just arrived in London--some thought as an unofficial envoy.
+His career was sketched lightly, and it was firmly asserted that he,
+and not the figurehead leaders, had been the author of the Russian
+Revolution.
+
+In the centre of the page was his portrait.
+
+“So that’s who Number 1 is,” said Tommy with his mouth full of eggs and
+bacon. “Not a doubt about it, I must push on.”
+
+He paid for his breakfast, and betook himself to Whitehall. There he
+sent up his name, and the message that it was urgent. A few minutes
+later he was in the presence of the man who did not here go by the name
+of “Mr. Carter.” There was a frown on his face.
+
+“Look here, you’ve no business to come asking for me in this way. I
+thought that was distinctly understood?”
+
+“It was, sir. But I judged it important to lose no time.”
+
+And as briefly and succinctly as possible he detailed the experiences of
+the last few days.
+
+Half-way through, Mr. Carter interrupted him to give a few cryptic
+orders through the telephone. All traces of displeasure had now left his
+face. He nodded energetically when Tommy had finished.
+
+“Quite right. Every moment’s of value. Fear we shall be too late anyway.
+They wouldn’t wait. Would clear out at once. Still, they may have left
+something behind them that will be a clue. You say you’ve recognized
+Number 1 to be Kramenin? That’s important. We want something against him
+badly to prevent the Cabinet falling on his neck too freely. What about
+the others? You say two faces were familiar to you? One’s a Labour man,
+you think? Just look through these photos, and see if you can spot him.”
+
+A minute later, Tommy held one up. Mr. Carter exhibited some surprise.
+
+“Ah, Westway! Shouldn’t have thought it. Poses as being moderate. As for
+the other fellow, I think I can give a good guess.” He handed another
+photograph to Tommy, and smiled at the other’s exclamation. “I’m right,
+then. Who is he? Irishman. Prominent Unionist M.P. All a blind, of
+course. We’ve suspected it--but couldn’t get any proof. Yes, you’ve done
+very well, young man. The 29th, you say, is the date. That gives us very
+little time--very little time indeed.”
+
+“But----” Tommy hesitated.
+
+Mr. Carter read his thoughts.
+
+“We can deal with the General Strike menace, I think. It’s a
+toss-up--but we’ve got a sporting chance! But if that draft treaty turns
+up--we’re done. England will be plunged in anarchy. Ah, what’s that?
+The car? Come on, Beresford, we’ll go and have a look at this house of
+yours.”
+
+Two constables were on duty in front of the house in Soho. An inspector
+reported to Mr. Carter in a low voice. The latter turned to Tommy.
+
+“The birds have flown--as we thought. We might as well go over it.”
+
+Going over the deserted house seemed to Tommy to partake of the
+character of a dream. Everything was just as it had been. The prison
+room with the crooked pictures, the broken jug in the attic, the meeting
+room with its long table. But nowhere was there a trace of papers.
+Everything of that kind had either been destroyed or taken away. And
+there was no sign of Annette.
+
+“What you tell me about the girl puzzled me,” said Mr. Carter. “You
+believe that she deliberately went back?”
+
+“It would seem so, sir. She ran upstairs while I was getting the door
+open.”
+
+“H’m, she must belong to the gang, then; but, being a woman, didn’t feel
+like standing by to see a personable young man killed. But evidently
+she’s in with them, or she wouldn’t have gone back.”
+
+“I can’t believe she’s really one of them, sir. She--seemed so
+different----”
+
+“Good-looking, I suppose?” said Mr. Carter with a smile that made Tommy
+flush to the roots of his hair. He admitted Annette’s beauty rather
+shamefacedly.
+
+“By the way,” observed Mr. Carter, “have you shown yourself to Miss
+Tuppence yet? She’s been bombarding me with letters about you.”
+
+“Tuppence? I was afraid she might get a bit rattled. Did she go to the
+police?”
+
+Mr. Carter shook his head.
+
+“Then I wonder how they twigged me.”
+
+Mr. Carter looked inquiringly at him, and Tommy explained. The other
+nodded thoughtfully.
+
+“True, that’s rather a curious point. Unless the mention of the _Ritz_
+was an accidental remark?”
+
+“It might have been, sir. But they must have found out about me suddenly
+in some way.”
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Carter, looking round him, “there’s nothing more to be
+done here. What about some lunch with me?”
+
+“Thanks awfully, sir. But I think I’d better get back and rout out
+Tuppence.”
+
+“Of course. Give her my kind regards and tell her not to believe you’re
+killed too readily next time.”
+
+Tommy grinned.
+
+“I take a lot of killing, sir.”
+
+“So I perceive,” said Mr. Carter dryly. “Well, good-bye. Remember you’re
+a marked man now, and take reasonable care of yourself.”
+
+“Thank you, sir.”
+
+Hailing a taxi briskly Tommy stepped in, and was swiftly borne to the
+_Ritz_, dwelling the while on the pleasurable anticipation of startling
+Tuppence.
+
+“Wonder what she’s been up to. Dogging ‘Rita’ most likely. By the way,
+I suppose that’s who Annette meant by Marguerite. I didn’t get it at the
+time.” The thought saddened him a little, for it seemed to prove that
+Mrs. Vandemeyer and the girl were on intimate terms.
+
+The taxi drew up at the _Ritz_. Tommy burst into its sacred portals
+eagerly, but his enthusiasm received a check. He was informed that Miss
+Cowley had gone out a quarter of an hour ago.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE TELEGRAM
+
+BAFFLED for the moment, Tommy strolled into the restaurant, and ordered
+a meal of surpassing excellence. His four days’ imprisonment had taught
+him anew to value good food.
+
+He was in the middle of conveying a particularly choice morsel of Sole
+à la Jeanette to his mouth, when he caught sight of Julius entering
+the room. Tommy waved a menu cheerfully, and succeeded in attracting the
+other’s attention. At the sight of Tommy, Julius’s eyes seemed as though
+they would pop out of his head. He strode across, and pump-handled
+Tommy’s hand with what seemed to the latter quite unnecessary vigour.
+
+“Holy snakes!” he ejaculated. “Is it really you?”
+
+“Of course it is. Why shouldn’t it be?”
+
+“Why shouldn’t it be? Say, man, don’t you know you’ve been given up
+for dead? I guess we’d have had a solemn requiem for you in another few
+days.”
+
+“Who thought I was dead?” demanded Tommy.
+
+“Tuppence.”
+
+“She remembered the proverb about the good dying young, I suppose. There
+must be a certain amount of original sin in me to have survived. Where
+is Tuppence, by the way?”
+
+“Isn’t she here?”
+
+“No, the fellows at the office said she’d just gone out.”
+
+“Gone shopping, I guess. I dropped her here in the car about an hour
+ago. But, say, can’t you shed that British calm of yours, and get down
+to it? What on God’s earth have you been doing all this time?”
+
+“If you’re feeding here,” replied Tommy, “order now. It’s going to be a
+long story.”
+
+Julius drew up a chair to the opposite side of the table, summoned a
+hovering waiter, and dictated his wishes. Then he turned to Tommy.
+
+“Fire ahead. I guess you’ve had some few adventures.”
+
+“One or two,” replied Tommy modestly, and plunged into his recital.
+
+Julius listened spellbound. Half the dishes that were placed before him
+he forgot to eat. At the end he heaved a long sigh.
+
+“Bully for you. Reads like a dime novel!”
+
+“And now for the home front,” said Tommy, stretching out his hand for a
+peach.
+
+“We-el,” drawled Julius, “I don’t mind admitting we’ve had some
+adventures too.”
+
+He, in his turn, assumed the rôle of narrator. Beginning with his
+unsuccessful reconnoitring at Bournemouth, he passed on to his return
+to London, the buying of the car, the growing anxieties of Tuppence,
+the call upon Sir James, and the sensational occurrences of the previous
+night.
+
+“But who killed her?” asked Tommy. “I don’t quite understand.”
+
+“The doctor kidded himself she took it herself,” replied Julius dryly.
+
+“And Sir James? What did he think?”
+
+“Being a legal luminary, he is likewise a human oyster,” replied Julius.
+“I should say he ‘reserved judgment.’” He went on to detail the events
+of the morning.
+
+“Lost her memory, eh?” said Tommy with interest. “By Jove, that explains
+why they looked at me so queerly when I spoke of questioning her. Bit of
+a slip on my part, that! But it wasn’t the sort of thing a fellow would
+be likely to guess.”
+
+“They didn’t give you any sort of hint as to where Jane was?”
+
+Tommy shook his head regretfully.
+
+“Not a word. I’m a bit of an ass, as you know. I ought to have got more
+out of them somehow.”
+
+“I guess you’re lucky to be here at all. That bluff of yours was the
+goods all right. How you ever came to think of it all so pat beats me to
+a frazzle!”
+
+“I was in such a funk I had to think of something,” said Tommy simply.
+
+There was a moment’s pause, and then Tommy reverted to Mrs. Vandemeyer’s
+death.
+
+“There’s no doubt it was chloral?”
+
+“I believe not. At least they call it heart failure induced by an
+overdose, or some such claptrap. It’s all right. We don’t want to
+be worried with an inquest. But I guess Tuppence and I and even the
+highbrow Sir James have all got the same idea.”
+
+“Mr. Brown?” hazarded Tommy.
+
+“Sure thing.”
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“All the same,” he said thoughtfully, “Mr. Brown hasn’t got wings. I
+don’t see how he got in and out.”
+
+“How about some high-class thought transference stunt? Some magnetic
+influence that irresistibly impelled Mrs. Vandemeyer to commit suicide?”
+
+Tommy looked at him with respect.
+
+“Good, Julius. Distinctly good. Especially the phraseology. But it
+leaves me cold. I yearn for a real Mr. Brown of flesh and blood. I think
+the gifted young detectives must get to work, study the entrances and
+exits, and tap the bumps on their foreheads until the solution of the
+mystery dawns on them. Let’s go round to the scene of the crime. I wish
+we could get hold of Tuppence. The _Ritz_ would enjoy the spectacle of
+the glad reunion.”
+
+Inquiry at the office revealed the fact that Tuppence had not yet
+returned.
+
+“All the same, I guess I’ll have a look round upstairs,” said Julius.
+“She might be in my sitting-room.” He disappeared.
+
+Suddenly a diminutive boy spoke at Tommy’s elbow:
+
+“The young lady--she’s gone away by train, I think, sir,” he murmured
+shyly.
+
+“What?” Tommy wheeled round upon him.
+
+The small boy became pinker than before.
+
+“The taxi, sir. I heard her tell the driver Charing Cross and to look
+sharp.”
+
+Tommy stared at him, his eyes opening wide in surprise. Emboldened, the
+small boy proceeded. “So I thought, having asked for an A.B.C. and a
+Bradshaw.”
+
+Tommy interrupted him:
+
+“When did she ask for an A.B.C. and a Bradshaw?”
+
+“When I took her the telegram, sir.”
+
+“A telegram?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“When was that?”
+
+“About half-past twelve, sir.”
+
+“Tell me exactly what happened.”
+
+The small boy drew a long breath.
+
+“I took up a telegram to No. 891--the lady was there. She opened it
+and gave a gasp, and then she said, very jolly like: ‘Bring me up a
+Bradshaw, and an A.B.C., and look sharp, Henry.’ My name isn’t Henry,
+but----”
+
+“Never mind your name,” said Tommy impatiently. “Go on.”
+
+“Yes, sir. I brought them, and she told me to wait, and looked up
+something. And then she looks up at the clock, and ‘Hurry up,’ she says.
+‘Tell them to get me a taxi,’ and she begins a-shoving on of her hat in
+front of the glass, and she was down in two ticks, almost as quick as I
+was, and I seed her going down the steps and into the taxi, and I heard
+her call out what I told you.”
+
+The small boy stopped and replenished his lungs. Tommy continued to
+stare at him. At that moment Julius rejoined him. He held an open letter
+in his hand.
+
+“I say, Hersheimmer”--Tommy turned to him--“Tuppence has gone off
+sleuthing on her own.”
+
+“Shucks!”
+
+“Yes, she has. She went off in a taxi to Charing Cross in the deuce of a
+hurry after getting a telegram.” His eye fell on the letter in Julius’s
+hand. “Oh; she left a note for you. That’s all right. Where’s she off
+to?”
+
+Almost unconsciously, he held out his hand for the letter, but
+Julius folded it up and placed it in his pocket. He seemed a trifle
+embarrassed.
+
+“I guess this is nothing to do with it. It’s about something
+else--something I asked her that she was to let me know about.”
+
+“Oh!” Tommy looked puzzled, and seemed waiting for more.
+
+“See here,” said Julius suddenly, “I’d better put you wise. I asked Miss
+Tuppence to marry me this morning.”
+
+“Oh!” said Tommy mechanically. He felt dazed. Julius’s words were
+totally unexpected. For the moment they benumbed his brain.
+
+“I’d like to tell you,” continued Julius, “that before I suggested
+anything of the kind to Miss Tuppence, I made it clear that I didn’t
+want to butt in in any way between her and you----”
+
+Tommy roused himself.
+
+“That’s all right,” he said quickly. “Tuppence and I have been pals for
+years. Nothing more.” He lit a cigarette with a hand that shook ever
+so little. “That’s quite all right. Tuppence always said that she was
+looking out for----”
+
+He stopped abruptly, his face crimsoning, but Julius was in no way
+discomposed.
+
+“Oh, I guess it’ll be the dollars that’ll do the trick. Miss Tuppence
+put me wise to that right away. There’s no humbug about her. We ought to
+gee along together very well.”
+
+Tommy looked at him curiously for a minute, as though he were about
+to speak, then changed his mind and said nothing. Tuppence and Julius!
+Well, why not? Had she not lamented the fact that she knew no rich men?
+Had she not openly avowed her intention of marrying for money if she
+ever had the chance? Her meeting with the young American millionaire
+had given her the chance--and it was unlikely she would be slow to avail
+herself of it. She was out for money. She had always said so. Why blame
+her because she had been true to her creed?
+
+Nevertheless, Tommy did blame her. He was filled with a passionate and
+utterly illogical resentment. It was all very well to _say_ things
+like that--but a _real_ girl would never marry for money. Tuppence was
+utterly cold-blooded and selfish, and he would be delighted if he never
+saw her again! And it was a rotten world!
+
+Julius’s voice broke in on these meditations.
+
+“Yes, we ought to gee along together very well. I’ve heard that a girl
+always refuses you once--a sort of convention.”
+
+Tommy caught his arm.
+
+“Refuses? Did you say _refuses?_”
+
+“Sure thing. Didn’t I tell you that? She just rapped out a ‘no’ without
+any kind of reason to it. The eternal feminine, the Huns call it, I’ve
+heard. But she’ll come round right enough. Likely enough, I hustled her
+some----”
+
+But Tommy interrupted regardless of decorum.
+
+“What did she say in that note?” he demanded fiercely.
+
+The obliging Julius handed it to him.
+
+“There’s no earthly clue in it as to where she’s gone,” he assured
+Tommy. “But you might as well see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
+
+The note, in Tuppence’s well-known schoolboy writing, ran as follows:
+
+“DEAR JULIUS,
+
+“It’s always better to have things in black and white. I don’t feel I
+can be bothered to think of marriage until Tommy is found. Let’s leave
+it till then.
+
+“Yours affectionately,
+
+“TUPPENCE.”
+
+Tommy handed it back, his eyes shining. His feelings had undergone a
+sharp reaction. He now felt that Tuppence was all that was noble and
+disinterested. Had she not refused Julius without hesitation? True, the
+note betokened signs of weakening, but he could excuse that. It read
+almost like a bribe to Julius to spur him on in his efforts to find
+Tommy, but he supposed she had not really meant it that way. Darling
+Tuppence, there was not a girl in the world to touch her! When he saw
+her----His thoughts were brought up with a sudden jerk.
+
+“As you say,” he remarked, pulling himself together, “there’s not a hint
+here as to what she’s up to. Hi--Henry!”
+
+The small boy came obediently. Tommy produced five shillings.
+
+“One thing more. Do you remember what the young lady did with the
+telegram?”
+
+Henry gasped and spoke.
+
+“She crumpled it up into a ball and threw it into the grate, and made a
+sort of noise like ‘Whoop!’ sir.”
+
+“Very graphic, Henry,” said Tommy. “Here’s your five shillings. Come on,
+Julius. We must find that telegram.”
+
+They hurried upstairs. Tuppence had left the key in her door. The room
+was as she had left it. In the fireplace was a crumpled ball of orange
+and white. Tommy disentangled it and smoothed out the telegram.
+
+“Come at once, Moat House, Ebury, Yorkshire, great developments--TOMMY.”
+
+They looked at each other in stupefaction. Julius spoke first:
+
+“You didn’t send it?”
+
+“Of course not. What does it mean?”
+
+“I guess it means the worst,” said Julius quietly. “They’ve got her.”
+
+_“What?”_
+
+“Sure thing! They signed your name, and she fell into the trap like a
+lamb.”
+
+“My God! What shall we do?”
+
+“Get busy, and go after her! Right now! There’s no time to waste. It’s
+almighty luck that she didn’t take the wire with her. If she had we’d
+probably never have traced her. But we’ve got to hustle. Where’s that
+Bradshaw?”
+
+The energy of Julius was infectious. Left to himself, Tommy would
+probably have sat down to think things out for a good half-hour before
+he decided on a plan of action. But with Julius Hersheimmer about,
+hustling was inevitable.
+
+After a few muttered imprecations he handed the Bradshaw to Tommy as
+being more conversant with its mysteries. Tommy abandoned it in favour
+of an A.B.C.
+
+“Here we are. Ebury, Yorks. From King’s Cross. Or St. Pancras. (Boy must
+have made a mistake. It was King’s Cross, not _Charing_ Cross.) 12.50,
+that’s the train she went by. 2.10, that’s gone. 3.20 is the next--and a
+damned slow train too.”
+
+“What about the car?”
+
+Tommy shook his head.
+
+“Send it up if you like, but we’d better stick to the train. The great
+thing is to keep calm.”
+
+Julius groaned.
+
+“That’s so. But it gets my goat to think of that innocent young girl in
+danger!”
+
+Tommy nodded abstractedly. He was thinking. In a moment or two, he said:
+
+“I say, Julius, what do they want her for, anyway?”
+
+“Eh? I don’t get you?”
+
+“What I mean is that I don’t think it’s their game to do her any harm,”
+ explained Tommy, puckering his brow with the strain of his mental
+processes. “She’s a hostage, that’s what she is. She’s in no immediate
+danger, because if we tumble on to anything, she’d be damned useful to
+them. As long as they’ve got her, they’ve got the whip hand of us. See?”
+
+“Sure thing,” said Julius thoughtfully. “That’s so.”
+
+“Besides,” added Tommy, as an afterthought, “I’ve great faith in
+Tuppence.”
+
+The journey was wearisome, with many stops, and crowded carriages. They
+had to change twice, once at Doncaster, once at a small junction. Ebury
+was a deserted station with a solitary porter, to whom Tommy addressed
+himself:
+
+“Can you tell me the way to the Moat House?”
+
+“The Moat House? It’s a tidy step from here. The big house near the sea,
+you mean?”
+
+Tommy assented brazenly. After listening to the porter’s meticulous
+but perplexing directions, they prepared to leave the station. It was
+beginning to rain, and they turned up the collars of their coats as they
+trudged through the slush of the road. Suddenly Tommy halted.
+
+“Wait a moment.” He ran back to the station and tackled the porter anew.
+
+“Look here, do you remember a young lady who arrived by an earlier
+train, the 12.50 from London? She’d probably ask you the way to the Moat
+House.”
+
+He described Tuppence as well as he could, but the porter shook his
+head. Several people had arrived by the train in question. He could not
+call to mind one young lady in particular. But he was quite certain that
+no one had asked him the way to the Moat House.
+
+Tommy rejoined Julius, and explained. Depression was settling on him
+like a leaden weight. He felt convinced that their quest was going to
+be unsuccessful. The enemy had over three hours’ start. Three hours was
+more than enough for Mr. Brown. He would not ignore the possibility of
+the telegram having been found.
+
+The way seemed endless. Once they took the wrong turning and went nearly
+half a mile out of their direction. It was past seven o’clock when a
+small boy told them that “t’ Moat House” was just past the next corner.
+
+A rusty iron gate swinging dismally on its hinges! An overgrown drive
+thick with leaves. There was something about the place that struck a
+chill to both their hearts. They went up the deserted drive. The leaves
+deadened their footsteps. The daylight was almost gone. It was like
+walking in a world of ghosts. Overhead the branches flapped and creaked
+with a mournful note. Occasionally a sodden leaf drifted silently down,
+startling them with its cold touch on their cheek.
+
+A turn of the drive brought them in sight of the house. That, too,
+seemed empty and deserted. The shutters were closed, the steps up to
+the door overgrown with moss. Was it indeed to this desolate spot
+that Tuppence had been decoyed? It seemed hard to believe that a human
+footstep had passed this way for months.
+
+Julius jerked the rusty bell handle. A jangling peal rang discordantly,
+echoing through the emptiness within. No one came. They rang again and
+again--but there was no sign of life. Then they walked completely round
+the house. Everywhere silence, and shuttered windows. If they could
+believe the evidence of their eyes the place was empty.
+
+“Nothing doing,” said Julius.
+
+They retraced their steps slowly to the gate.
+
+“There must be a village handy,” continued the young American. “We’d
+better make inquiries there. They’ll know something about the place, and
+whether there’s been anyone there lately.”
+
+“Yes, that’s not a bad idea.”
+
+Proceeding up the road, they soon came to a little hamlet. On the
+outskirts of it, they met a workman swinging his bag of tools, and Tommy
+stopped him with a question.
+
+“The Moat House? It’s empty. Been empty for years. Mrs. Sweeny’s got the
+key if you want to go over it--next to the post office.”
+
+Tommy thanked him. They soon found the post office, which was also a
+sweet and general fancy shop, and knocked at the door of the cottage
+next to it. A clean, wholesome-looking woman opened it. She readily
+produced the key of the Moat House.
+
+“Though I doubt if it’s the kind of place to suit you, sir. In a
+terrible state of repair. Ceilings leaking and all. ‘Twould need a lot
+of money spent on it.”
+
+“Thanks,” said Tommy cheerily. “I dare say it’ll be a washout, but
+houses are scarce nowadays.”
+
+“That they are,” declared the woman heartily. “My daughter and
+son-in-law have been looking for a decent cottage for I don’t know how
+long. It’s all the war. Upset things terribly, it has. But excuse me,
+sir, it’ll be too dark for you to see much of the house. Hadn’t you
+better wait until to-morrow?”
+
+“That’s all right. We’ll have a look around this evening, anyway. We’d
+have been here before only we lost our way. What’s the best place to
+stay at for the night round here?”
+
+Mrs. Sweeny looked doubtful.
+
+“There’s the _Yorkshire Arms_, but it’s not much of a place for
+gentlemen like you.”
+
+“Oh, it will do very well. Thanks. By the way, you’ve not had a young
+lady here asking for this key to-day?”
+
+The woman shook her head.
+
+“No one’s been over the place for a long time.”
+
+“Thanks very much.”
+
+They retraced their steps to the Moat House. As the front door swung
+back on its hinges, protesting loudly, Julius struck a match and
+examined the floor carefully. Then he shook his head.
+
+“I’d swear no one’s passed this way. Look at the dust. Thick. Not a sign
+of a footmark.”
+
+They wandered round the deserted house. Everywhere the same tale. Thick
+layers of dust apparently undisturbed.
+
+“This gets me,” said Julius. “I don’t believe Tuppence was ever in this
+house.”
+
+“She must have been.”
+
+Julius shook his head without replying.
+
+“We’ll go over it again to-morrow,” said Tommy. “Perhaps we’ll see more
+in the daylight.”
+
+On the morrow they took up the search once more, and were reluctantly
+forced to the conclusion that the house had not been invaded for some
+considerable time. They might have left the village altogether but for
+a fortunate discovery of Tommy’s. As they were retracing their steps to
+the gate, he gave a sudden cry, and stooping, picked something up from
+among the leaves, and held it out to Julius. It was a small gold brooch.
+
+“That’s Tuppence’s!”
+
+“Are you sure?”
+
+“Absolutely. I’ve often seen her wear it.”
+
+Julius drew a deep breath.
+
+“I guess that settles it. She came as far as here, anyway. We’ll make
+that pub our head-quarters, and raise hell round here until we find her.
+Somebody _must_ have seen her.”
+
+Forthwith the campaign began. Tommy and Julius worked separately and
+together, but the result was the same. Nobody answering to Tuppence’s
+description had been seen in the vicinity. They were baffled--but not
+discouraged. Finally they altered their tactics. Tuppence had certainly
+not remained long in the neighbourhood of the Moat House. That pointed
+to her having been overcome and carried away in a car. They renewed
+inquiries. Had anyone seen a car standing somewhere near the Moat House
+that day? Again they met with no success.
+
+Julius wired to town for his own car, and they scoured the neighbourhood
+daily with unflagging zeal. A grey limousine on which they had set high
+hopes was traced to Harrogate, and turned out to be the property of a
+highly respectable maiden lady!
+
+Each day saw them set out on a new quest. Julius was like a hound on
+the leash. He followed up the slenderest clue. Every car that had passed
+through the village on the fateful day was tracked down. He forced his
+way into country properties and submitted the owners of the motors to
+a searching cross-examination. His apologies were as thorough as his
+methods, and seldom failed in disarming the indignation of his victims;
+but, as day succeeded day, they were no nearer to discovering Tuppence’s
+whereabouts. So well had the abduction been planned that the girl seemed
+literally to have vanished into thin air.
+
+And another preoccupation was weighing on Tommy’s mind.
+
+“Do you know how long we’ve been here?” he asked one morning as they
+sat facing each other at breakfast. “A week! We’re no nearer to finding
+Tuppence, _and next Sunday is the_ 29_th!_”
+
+“Shucks!” said Julius thoughtfully. “I’d almost forgotten about the
+29th. I’ve been thinking of nothing but Tuppence.”
+
+“So have I. At least, I hadn’t forgotten about the 29th, but it didn’t
+seem to matter a damn in comparison to finding Tuppence. But to-day’s
+the 23rd, and time’s getting short. If we’re ever going to get hold of
+her at all, we must do it before the 29th--her life won’t be worth an
+hour’s purchase afterwards. The hostage game will be played out by then.
+I’m beginning to feel that we’ve made a big mistake in the way we’ve set
+about this. We’ve wasted time and we’re no forrader.”
+
+“I’m with you there. We’ve been a couple of mutts, who’ve bitten off a
+bigger bit than they can chew. I’m going to quit fooling right away!”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I’ll tell you. I’m going to do what we ought to have done a week ago.
+I’m going right back to London to put the case in the hands of your
+British police. We fancied ourselves as sleuths. Sleuths! It was a piece
+of damn-fool foolishness! I’m through! I’ve had enough of it. Scotland
+Yard for me!”
+
+“You’re right,” said Tommy slowly. “I wish to God we’d gone there right
+away.”
+
+“Better late than never. We’ve been like a couple of babes playing ‘Here
+we go round the Mulberry Bush.’ Now I’m going right along to Scotland
+Yard to ask them to take me by the hand and show me the way I should go.
+I guess the professional always scores over the amateur in the end. Are
+you coming along with me?”
+
+Tommy shook his head.
+
+“What’s the good? One of us is enough. I might as well stay here and
+nose round a bit longer. Something _might_ turn up. One never knows.”
+
+“Sure thing. Well, so long. I’ll be back in a couple of shakes with a
+few inspectors along. I shall tell them to pick out their brightest and
+best.”
+
+But the course of events was not to follow the plan Julius had laid
+down. Later in the day Tommy received a wire:
+
+“Join me Manchester Midland Hotel. Important news--JULIUS.”
+
+At 7.30 that night Tommy alighted from a slow cross-country train.
+Julius was on the platform.
+
+“Thought you’d come by this train if you weren’t out when my wire
+arrived.”
+
+Tommy grasped him by the arm.
+
+“What is it? Is Tuppence found?”
+
+Julius shook his head.
+
+“No. But I found this waiting in London. Just arrived.”
+
+He handed the telegraph form to the other. Tommy’s eyes opened as he
+read:
+
+“Jane Finn found. Come Manchester Midland Hotel immediately--PEEL
+EDGERTON.”
+
+Julius took the form back and folded it up.
+
+“Queer,” he said thoughtfully. “I thought that lawyer chap had quit!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. JANE FINN
+
+“MY train got in half an hour ago,” explained Julius, as he led the way
+out of the station. “I reckoned you’d come by this before I left London,
+and wired accordingly to Sir James. He’s booked rooms for us, and will
+be round to dine at eight.”
+
+“What made you think he’d ceased to take any interest in the case?”
+ asked Tommy curiously.
+
+“What he said,” replied Julius dryly. “The old bird’s as close as an
+oyster! Like all the darned lot of them, he wasn’t going to commit
+himself till he was sure he could deliver the goods.”
+
+“I wonder,” said Tommy thoughtfully.
+
+Julius turned on him.
+
+“You wonder what?”
+
+“Whether that was his real reason.”
+
+“Sure. You bet your life it was.”
+
+Tommy shook his head unconvinced.
+
+Sir James arrived punctually at eight o’clock, and Julius introduced
+Tommy. Sir James shook hands with him warmly.
+
+“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Beresford. I have heard
+so much about you from Miss Tuppence”--he smiled involuntarily--“that it
+really seems as though I already know you quite well.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said Tommy with his cheerful grin. He scanned the
+great lawyer eagerly. Like Tuppence, he felt the magnetism of the
+other’s personality. He was reminded of Mr. Carter. The two men, totally
+unlike so far as physical resemblance went, produced a similar effect.
+Beneath the weary manner of the one and the professional reserve of the
+other, lay the same quality of mind, keen-edged like a rapier.
+
+In the meantime he was conscious of Sir James’s close scrutiny. When the
+lawyer dropped his eyes the young man had the feeling that the other had
+read him through and through like an open book. He could not but wonder
+what the final judgment was, but there was little chance of learning
+that. Sir James took in everything, but gave out only what he chose. A
+proof of that occurred almost at once.
+
+Immediately the first greetings were over Julius broke out into a flood
+of eager questions. How had Sir James managed to track the girl? Why had
+he not let them know that he was still working on the case? And so on.
+
+Sir James stroked his chin and smiled. At last he said:
+
+“Just so, just so. Well, she’s found. And that’s the great thing, isn’t
+it? Eh! Come now, that’s the great thing?”
+
+“Sure it is. But just how did you strike her trail? Miss Tuppence and I
+thought you’d quit for good and all.”
+
+“Ah!” The lawyer shot a lightning glance at him, then resumed operations
+on his chin. “You thought that, did you? Did you really? H’m, dear me.”
+
+“But I guess I can take it we were wrong,” pursued Julius.
+
+“Well, I don’t know that I should go so far as to say that. But it’s
+certainly fortunate for all parties that we’ve managed to find the young
+lady.”
+
+“But where is she?” demanded Julius, his thoughts flying off on another
+tack. “I thought you’d be sure to bring her along?”
+
+“That would hardly be possible,” said Sir James gravely.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because the young lady was knocked down in a street accident, and has
+sustained slight injuries to the head. She was taken to the infirmary,
+and on recovering consciousness gave her name as Jane Finn. When--ah!--I
+heard that, I arranged for her to be removed to the house of a
+doctor--a friend of mine, and wired at once for you. She relapsed into
+unconsciousness and has not spoken since.”
+
+“She’s not seriously hurt?”
+
+“Oh, a bruise and a cut or two; really, from a medical point of view,
+absurdly slight injuries to have produced such a condition. Her state is
+probably to be attributed to the mental shock consequent on recovering
+her memory.”
+
+“It’s come back?” cried Julius excitedly.
+
+Sir James tapped the table rather impatiently.
+
+“Undoubtedly, Mr. Hersheimmer, since she was able to give her real name.
+I thought you had appreciated that point.”
+
+“And you just happened to be on the spot,” said Tommy. “Seems quite like
+a fairy tale.”
+
+But Sir James was far too wary to be drawn.
+
+“Coincidences are curious things,” he said dryly.
+
+Nevertheless Tommy was now certain of what he had before only suspected.
+Sir James’s presence in Manchester was not accidental. Far from
+abandoning the case, as Julius supposed, he had by some means of his own
+successfully run the missing girl to earth. The only thing that puzzled
+Tommy was the reason for all this secrecy. He concluded that it was a
+foible of the legal mind.
+
+Julius was speaking.
+
+“After dinner,” he announced, “I shall go right away and see Jane.”
+
+“That will be impossible, I fear,” said Sir James. “It is very unlikely
+they would allow her to see visitors at this time of night. I should
+suggest to-morrow morning about ten o’clock.”
+
+Julius flushed. There was something in Sir James which always stirred
+him to antagonism. It was a conflict of two masterful personalities.
+
+“All the same, I reckon I’ll go round there to-night and see if I can’t
+ginger them up to break through their silly rules.”
+
+“It will be quite useless, Mr. Hersheimmer.”
+
+The words came out like the crack of a pistol, and Tommy looked up with
+a start. Julius was nervous and excited. The hand with which he raised
+his glass to his lips shook slightly, but his eyes held Sir James’s
+defiantly. For a moment the hostility between the two seemed likely to
+burst into flame, but in the end Julius lowered his eyes, defeated.
+
+“For the moment, I reckon you’re the boss.”
+
+“Thank you,” said the other. “We will say ten o’clock then?” With
+consummate ease of manner he turned to Tommy. “I must confess, Mr.
+Beresford, that it was something of a surprise to me to see you here
+this evening. The last I heard of you was that your friends were in
+grave anxiety on your behalf. Nothing had been heard of you for
+some days, and Miss Tuppence was inclined to think you had got into
+difficulties.”
+
+“I had, sir!” Tommy grinned reminiscently. “I was never in a tighter
+place in my life.”
+
+Helped out by questions from Sir James, he gave an abbreviated account
+of his adventures. The lawyer looked at him with renewed interest as he
+brought the tale to a close.
+
+“You got yourself out of a tight place very well,” he said gravely. “I
+congratulate you. You displayed a great deal of ingenuity and carried
+your part through well.”
+
+Tommy blushed, his face assuming a prawnlike hue at the praise.
+
+“I couldn’t have got away but for the girl, sir.”
+
+“No.” Sir James smiled a little. “It was lucky for you she happened
+to--er--take a fancy to you.” Tommy appeared about to protest, but Sir
+James went on. “There’s no doubt about her being one of the gang, I
+suppose?”
+
+“I’m afraid not, sir. I thought perhaps they were keeping her there by
+force, but the way she acted didn’t fit in with that. You see, she went
+back to them when she could have got away.”
+
+Sir James nodded thoughtfully.
+
+“What did she say? Something about wanting to be taken to Marguerite?”
+
+“Yes, sir. I suppose she meant Mrs. Vandemeyer.”
+
+“She always signed herself Rita Vandemeyer. All her friends spoke of
+her as Rita. Still, I suppose the girl must have been in the habit of
+calling her by her full name. And, at the moment she was crying out to
+her, Mrs. Vandemeyer was either dead or dying! Curious! There are one
+or two points that strike me as being obscure--their sudden change
+of attitude towards yourself, for instance. By the way, the house was
+raided, of course?”
+
+“Yes, sir, but they’d all cleared out.”
+
+“Naturally,” said Sir James dryly.
+
+“And not a clue left behind.”
+
+“I wonder----” The lawyer tapped the table thoughtfully.
+
+Something in his voice made Tommy look up. Would this man’s eyes have
+seen something where theirs had been blind? He spoke impulsively:
+
+“I wish you’d been there, sir, to go over the house!”
+
+“I wish I had,” said Sir James quietly. He sat for a moment in silence.
+Then he looked up. “And since then? What have you been doing?”
+
+For a moment, Tommy stared at him. Then it dawned on him that of course
+the lawyer did not know.
+
+“I forgot that you didn’t know about Tuppence,” he said slowly. The
+sickening anxiety, forgotten for a while in the excitement of knowing
+Jane Finn was found at last, swept over him again.
+
+The lawyer laid down his knife and fork sharply.
+
+“Has anything happened to Miss Tuppence?” His voice was keen-edged.
+
+“She’s disappeared,” said Julius.
+
+“When?”
+
+“A week ago.”
+
+“How?”
+
+Sir James’s questions fairly shot out. Between them Tommy and Julius
+gave the history of the last week and their futile search.
+
+Sir James went at once to the root of the matter.
+
+“A wire signed with your name? They knew enough of you both for that.
+They weren’t sure of how much you had learnt in that house. Their
+kidnapping of Miss Tuppence is the counter-move to your escape. If
+necessary they could seal your lips with a threat of what might happen
+to her.”
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“That’s just what I thought, sir.”
+
+Sir James looked at him keenly. “You had worked that out, had you? Not
+bad--not at all bad. The curious thing is that they certainly did not
+know anything about you when they first held you prisoner. You are sure
+that you did not in any way disclose your identity?”
+
+Tommy shook his head.
+
+“That’s so,” said Julius with a nod. “Therefore I reckon some one put
+them wise--and not earlier than Sunday afternoon.”
+
+“Yes, but who?”
+
+“That almighty omniscient Mr. Brown, of course!”
+
+There was a faint note of derision in the American’s voice which made
+Sir James look up sharply.
+
+“You don’t believe in Mr. Brown, Mr. Hersheimmer?”
+
+“No, sir, I do not,” returned the young American with emphasis. “Not
+as such, that is to say. I reckon it out that he’s a figurehead--just a
+bogy name to frighten the children with. The real head of this business
+is that Russian chap Kramenin. I guess he’s quite capable of running
+revolutions in three countries at once if he chose! The man Whittington
+is probably the head of the English branch.”
+
+“I disagree with you,” said Sir James shortly. “Mr. Brown exists.” He
+turned to Tommy. “Did you happen to notice where that wire was handed
+in?”
+
+“No, sir, I’m afraid I didn’t.”
+
+“H’m. Got it with you?”
+
+“It’s upstairs, sir, in my kit.”
+
+“I’d like to have a look at it sometime. No hurry. You’ve wasted a
+week”--Tommy hung his head--“a day or so more is immaterial. We’ll deal
+with Miss Jane Finn first. Afterwards, we’ll set to work to rescue Miss
+Tuppence from bondage. I don’t think she’s in any immediate danger. That
+is, so long as they don’t know that we’ve got Jane Finn, and that
+her memory has returned. We must keep that dark at all costs. You
+understand?”
+
+The other two assented, and, after making arrangements for meeting on
+the morrow, the great lawyer took his leave.
+
+At ten o’clock, the two young men were at the appointed spot. Sir
+James had joined them on the doorstep. He alone appeared unexcited. He
+introduced them to the doctor.
+
+“Mr. Hersheimmer--Mr. Beresford--Dr. Roylance. How’s the patient?”
+
+“Going on well. Evidently no idea of the flight of time. Asked this
+morning how many had been saved from the _Lusitania_. Was it in the
+papers yet? That, of course, was only what was to be expected. She seems
+to have something on her mind, though.”
+
+“I think we can relieve her anxiety. May we go up?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+Tommy’s heart beat sensibly faster as they followed the doctor upstairs.
+Jane Finn at last! The long-sought, the mysterious, the elusive Jane
+Finn! How wildly improbable success had seemed! And here in this house,
+her memory almost miraculously restored, lay the girl who held the
+future of England in her hands. A half groan broke from Tommy’s lips.
+If only Tuppence could have been at his side to share in the triumphant
+conclusion of their joint venture! Then he put the thought of Tuppence
+resolutely aside. His confidence in Sir James was growing. There was
+a man who would unerringly ferret out Tuppence’s whereabouts. In the
+meantime Jane Finn! And suddenly a dread clutched at his heart. It
+seemed too easy.... Suppose they should find her dead ... stricken down
+by the hand of Mr. Brown?
+
+In another minute he was laughing at these melodramatic fancies. The
+doctor held open the door of a room and they passed in. On the white
+bed, bandages round her head, lay the girl. Somehow the whole scene
+seemed unreal. It was so exactly what one expected that it gave the
+effect of being beautifully staged.
+
+The girl looked from one to the other of them with large wondering eyes.
+Sir James spoke first.
+
+“Miss Finn,” he said, “this is your cousin, Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer.”
+
+A faint flush flitted over the girl’s face, as Julius stepped forward
+and took her hand.
+
+“How do, Cousin Jane?” he said lightly.
+
+But Tommy caught the tremor in his voice.
+
+“Are you really Uncle Hiram’s son?” she asked wonderingly.
+
+Her voice, with the slight warmth of the Western accent, had an almost
+thrilling quality. It seemed vaguely familiar to Tommy, but he thrust
+the impression aside as impossible.
+
+“Sure thing.”
+
+“We used to read about Uncle Hiram in the papers,” continued the girl,
+in her low soft tones. “But I never thought I’d meet you one day. Mother
+figured it out that Uncle Hiram would never get over being mad with
+her.”
+
+“The old man was like that,” admitted Julius. “But I guess the new
+generation’s sort of different. Got no use for the family feud business.
+First thing I thought about, soon as the war was over, was to come along
+and hunt you up.”
+
+A shadow passed over the girl’s face.
+
+“They’ve been telling me things--dreadful things--that my memory went,
+and that there are years I shall never know about--years lost out of my
+life.”
+
+“You didn’t realize that yourself?”
+
+The girl’s eyes opened wide.
+
+“Why, no. It seems to me as though it were no time since we were being
+hustled into those boats. I can see it all now.” She closed her eyes
+with a shudder.
+
+Julius looked across at Sir James, who nodded.
+
+“Don’t worry any. It isn’t worth it. Now, see here, Jane, there’s
+something we want to know about. There was a man aboard that boat with
+some mighty important papers on him, and the big guns in this country
+have got a notion that he passed on the goods to you. Is that so?”
+
+The girl hesitated, her glance shifting to the other two. Julius
+understood.
+
+“Mr. Beresford is commissioned by the British Government to get those
+papers back. Sir James Peel Edgerton is an English Member of Parliament,
+and might be a big gun in the Cabinet if he liked. It’s owing to him
+that we’ve ferreted you out at last. So you can go right ahead and tell
+us the whole story. Did Danvers give you the papers?”
+
+“Yes. He said they’d have a better chance with me, because they would
+save the women and children first.”
+
+“Just as we thought,” said Sir James.
+
+“He said they were very important--that they might make all the
+difference to the Allies. But, if it’s all so long ago, and the war’s
+over, what does it matter now?”
+
+“I guess history repeats itself, Jane. First there was a great hue
+and cry over those papers, then it all died down, and now the whole
+caboodle’s started all over again--for rather different reasons. Then
+you can hand them over to us right away?”
+
+“But I can’t.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“I haven’t got them.”
+
+“You--haven’t--got them?” Julius punctuated the words with little
+pauses.
+
+“No--I hid them.”
+
+“You _hid_ them?”
+
+“Yes. I got uneasy. People seemed to be watching me. It scared
+me--badly.” She put her hand to her head. “It’s almost the last thing I
+remember before waking up in the hospital....”
+
+“Go on,” said Sir James, in his quiet penetrating tones. “What do you
+remember?”
+
+She turned to him obediently.
+
+“It was at Holyhead. I came that way--I don’t remember why....”
+
+“That doesn’t matter. Go on.”
+
+“In the confusion on the quay I slipped away. Nobody saw me. I took a
+car. Told the man to drive me out of the town. I watched when we got on
+the open road. No other car was following us. I saw a path at the side
+of the road. I told the man to wait.”
+
+She paused, then went on. “The path led to the cliff, and down to the
+sea between big yellow gorse bushes--they were like golden flames. I
+looked round. There wasn’t a soul in sight. But just level with my head
+there was a hole in the rock. It was quite small--I could only just get
+my hand in, but it went a long way back. I took the oilskin packet from
+round my neck and shoved it right in as far as I could. Then I tore off
+a bit of gorse--My! but it did prick--and plugged the hole with it so
+that you’d never guess there was a crevice of any kind there. Then I
+marked the place carefully in my own mind, so that I’d find it again.
+There was a queer boulder in the path just there--for all the world
+like a dog sitting up begging. Then I went back to the road. The car was
+waiting, and I drove back. I just caught the train. I was a bit ashamed
+of myself for fancying things maybe, but, by and by, I saw the man
+opposite me wink at a woman who was sitting next to me, and I felt
+scared again, and was glad the papers were safe. I went out in the
+corridor to get a little air. I thought I’d slip into another carriage.
+But the woman called me back, said I’d dropped something, and when I
+stooped to look, something seemed to hit me--here.” She placed her hand
+to the back of her head. “I don’t remember anything more until I woke up
+in the hospital.”
+
+There was a pause.
+
+“Thank you, Miss Finn.” It was Sir James who spoke. “I hope we have not
+tired you?”
+
+“Oh, that’s all right. My head aches a little, but otherwise I feel
+fine.”
+
+Julius stepped forward and took her hand again.
+
+“So long, Cousin Jane. I’m going to get busy after those papers, but
+I’ll be back in two shakes of a dog’s tail, and I’ll tote you up to
+London and give you the time of your young life before we go back to the
+States! I mean it--so hurry up and get well.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. TOO LATE
+
+IN the street they held an informal council of war. Sir James had drawn
+a watch from his pocket. “The boat train to Holyhead stops at Chester at
+12.14. If you start at once I think you can catch the connection.”
+
+Tommy looked up, puzzled.
+
+“Is there any need to hurry, sir? To-day is only the 24th.”
+
+“I guess it’s always well to get up early in the morning,” said Julius,
+before the lawyer had time to reply. “We’ll make tracks for the depot
+right away.”
+
+A little frown had settled on Sir James’s brow.
+
+“I wish I could come with you. I am due to speak at a meeting at two
+o’clock. It is unfortunate.”
+
+The reluctance in his tone was very evident. It was clear, on the other
+hand, that Julius was easily disposed to put up with the loss of the
+other’s company.
+
+“I guess there’s nothing complicated about this deal,” he remarked.
+“Just a game of hide-and-seek, that’s all.”
+
+“I hope so,” said Sir James.
+
+“Sure thing. What else could it be?”
+
+“You are still young, Mr. Hersheimmer. At my age you will probably have
+learnt one lesson. ‘Never underestimate your adversary.’”
+
+The gravity of his tone impressed Tommy, but had little effect upon
+Julius.
+
+“You think Mr. Brown might come along and take a hand? If he does, I’m
+ready for him.” He slapped his pocket. “I carry a gun. Little Willie
+here travels round with me everywhere.” He produced a murderous-looking
+automatic, and tapped it affectionately before returning it to its
+home. “But he won’t be needed this trip. There’s nobody to put Mr. Brown
+wise.”
+
+The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“There was nobody to put Mr. Brown wise to the fact that Mrs. Vandemeyer
+meant to betray him. Nevertheless, _Mrs. Vandemeyer died without
+speaking_.”
+
+Julius was silenced for once, and Sir James added on a lighter note:
+
+“I only want to put you on your guard. Good-bye, and good luck. Take
+no unnecessary risks once the papers are in your hands. If there is any
+reason to believe that you have been shadowed, destroy them at once.
+Good luck to you. The game is in your hands now.” He shook hands with
+them both.
+
+Ten minutes later the two young men were seated in a first-class
+carriage _en route_ for Chester.
+
+For a long time neither of them spoke. When at length Julius broke the
+silence, it was with a totally unexpected remark.
+
+“Say,” he observed thoughtfully, “did you ever make a darned fool of
+yourself over a girl’s face?”
+
+Tommy, after a moment’s astonishment, searched his mind.
+
+“Can’t say I have,” he replied at last. “Not that I can recollect,
+anyhow. Why?”
+
+“Because for the last two months I’ve been making a sentimental idiot of
+myself over Jane! First moment I clapped eyes on her photograph my heart
+did all the usual stunts you read about in novels. I guess I’m ashamed
+to admit it, but I came over here determined to find her and fix it all
+up, and take her back as Mrs. Julius P. Hersheimmer!”
+
+“Oh!” said Tommy, amazed.
+
+Julius uncrossed his legs brusquely and continued:
+
+“Just shows what an almighty fool a man can make of himself! One look at
+the girl in the flesh, and I was cured!”
+
+Feeling more tongue-tied than ever, Tommy ejaculated “Oh!” again.
+
+“No disparagement to Jane, mind you,” continued the other. “She’s a real
+nice girl, and some fellow will fall in love with her right away.”
+
+“I thought her a very good-looking girl,” said Tommy, finding his
+tongue.
+
+“Sure she is. But she’s not like her photo one bit. At least I suppose
+she is in a way--must be--because I recognized her right off. If I’d
+seen her in a crowd I’d have said ‘There’s a girl whose face I know’
+right away without any hesitation. But there was something about that
+photo”--Julius shook his head, and heaved a sigh--“I guess romance is a
+mighty queer thing!”
+
+“It must be,” said Tommy coldly, “if you can come over here in love with
+one girl, and propose to another within a fortnight.”
+
+Julius had the grace to look discomposed.
+
+“Well, you see, I’d got a sort of tired feeling that I’d never find
+Jane--and that it was all plumb foolishness anyway. And then--oh, well,
+the French, for instance, are much more sensible in the way they look at
+things. They keep romance and marriage apart----”
+
+Tommy flushed.
+
+“Well, I’m damned! If that’s----”
+
+Julius hastened to interrupt.
+
+“Say now, don’t be hasty. I don’t mean what you mean. I take it
+Americans have a higher opinion of morality than you have even. What I
+meant was that the French set about marriage in a businesslike way--find
+two people who are suited to one another, look after the money affairs,
+and see the whole thing practically, and in a businesslike spirit.”
+
+“If you ask me,” said Tommy, “we’re all too damned businesslike
+nowadays. We’re always saying, ‘Will it pay?’ The men are bad enough,
+and the girls are worse!”
+
+“Cool down, son. Don’t get so heated.”
+
+“I feel heated,” said Tommy.
+
+Julius looked at him and judged it wise to say no more.
+
+However, Tommy had plenty of time to cool down before they reached
+Holyhead, and the cheerful grin had returned to his countenance as they
+alighted at their destination.
+
+After consultation, and with the aid of a road map, they were fairly
+well agreed as to direction, so were able to hire a taxi without more
+ado and drive out on the road leading to Treaddur Bay. They instructed
+the man to go slowly, and watched narrowly so as not to miss the path.
+They came to it not long after leaving the town, and Tommy stopped the
+car promptly, asked in a casual tone whether the path led down to the
+sea, and hearing it did paid off the man in handsome style.
+
+A moment later the taxi was slowly chugging back to Holyhead. Tommy and
+Julius watched it out of sight, and then turned to the narrow path.
+
+“It’s the right one, I suppose?” asked Tommy doubtfully. “There must be
+simply heaps along here.”
+
+“Sure it is. Look at the gorse. Remember what Jane said?”
+
+Tommy looked at the swelling hedges of golden blossom which bordered the
+path on either side, and was convinced.
+
+They went down in single file, Julius leading. Twice Tommy turned his
+head uneasily. Julius looked back.
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I don’t know. I’ve got the wind up somehow. Keep fancying there’s some
+one following us.”
+
+“Can’t be,” said Julius positively. “We’d see him.”
+
+Tommy had to admit that this was true. Nevertheless, his sense of
+uneasiness deepened. In spite of himself he believed in the omniscience
+of the enemy.
+
+“I rather wish that fellow would come along,” said Julius. He patted his
+pocket. “Little William here is just aching for exercise!”
+
+“Do you always carry it--him--with you?” inquired Tommy with burning
+curiosity.
+
+“Most always. I guess you never know what might turn up.”
+
+Tommy kept a respectful silence. He was impressed by little William. It
+seemed to remove the menace of Mr. Brown farther away.
+
+The path was now running along the side of the cliff, parallel to the
+sea. Suddenly Julius came to such an abrupt halt that Tommy cannoned
+into him.
+
+“What’s up?” he inquired.
+
+“Look there. If that doesn’t beat the band!”
+
+Tommy looked. Standing out half obstructing the path was a huge boulder
+which certainly bore a fanciful resemblance to a “begging” terrier.
+
+“Well,” said Tommy, refusing to share Julius’s emotion, “it’s what we
+expected to see, isn’t it?”
+
+Julius looked at him sadly and shook his head.
+
+“British phlegm! Sure we expected it--but it kind of rattles me, all the
+same, to see it sitting there just where we expected to find it!”
+
+Tommy, whose calm was, perhaps, more assumed than natural, moved his
+feet impatiently.
+
+“Push on. What about the hole?”
+
+They scanned the cliff-side narrowly. Tommy heard himself saying
+idiotically:
+
+“The gorse won’t be there after all these years.”
+
+And Julius replied solemnly:
+
+“I guess you’re right.”
+
+Tommy suddenly pointed with a shaking hand.
+
+“What about that crevice there?”
+
+Julius replied in an awestricken voice:
+
+“That’s it--for sure.”
+
+They looked at each other.
+
+“When I was in France,” said Tommy reminiscently, “whenever my batman
+failed to call me, he always said that he had come over queer. I never
+believed it. But whether he felt it or not, there _is_ such a sensation.
+I’ve got it now! Badly!”
+
+He looked at the rock with a kind of agonized passion.
+
+“Damn it!” he cried. “It’s impossible! Five years! Think of it!
+Bird’s-nesting boys, picnic parties, thousands of people passing! It
+can’t be there! It’s a hundred to one against its being there! It’s
+against all reason!”
+
+Indeed, he felt it to be impossible--more, perhaps, because he could not
+believe in his own success where so many others had failed. The thing
+was too easy, therefore it could not be. The hole would be empty.
+
+Julius looked at him with a widening smile.
+
+“I guess you’re rattled now all right,” he drawled with some enjoyment.
+“Well, here goes!” He thrust his hand into the crevice, and made a
+slight grimace. “It’s a tight fit. Jane’s hand must be a few sizes
+smaller than mine. I don’t feel anything--no--say, what’s this? Gee
+whiz!” And with a flourish he waved aloft a small discoloured packet.
+“It’s the goods all right. Sewn up in oilskin. Hold it while I get my
+penknife.”
+
+The unbelievable had happened. Tommy held the precious packet tenderly
+between his hands. They had succeeded!
+
+“It’s queer,” he murmured idly, “you’d think the stitches would have
+rotted. They look just as good as new.”
+
+They cut them carefully and ripped away the oilskin. Inside was a small
+folded sheet of paper. With trembling fingers they unfolded it. The
+sheet was blank! They stared at each other, puzzled.
+
+“A dummy?” hazarded Julius. “Was Danvers just a decoy?”
+
+Tommy shook his head. That solution did not satisfy him. Suddenly his
+face cleared.
+
+“I’ve got it! _Sympathetic ink!_”
+
+“You think so?”
+
+“Worth trying anyhow. Heat usually does the trick. Get some sticks.
+We’ll make a fire.”
+
+In a few minutes the little fire of twigs and leaves was blazing
+merrily. Tommy held the sheet of paper near the glow. The paper curled a
+little with the heat. Nothing more.
+
+Suddenly Julius grasped his arm, and pointed to where characters were
+appearing in a faint brown colour.
+
+“Gee whiz! You’ve got it! Say, that idea of yours was great. It never
+occurred to me.”
+
+Tommy held the paper in position some minutes longer until he judged the
+heat had done its work. Then he withdrew it. A moment later he uttered a
+cry.
+
+Across the sheet in neat brown printing ran the words: WITH THE
+COMPLIMENTS OF MR. BROWN.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. TOMMY MAKES A DISCOVERY
+
+FOR a moment or two they stood staring at each other stupidly, dazed
+with the shock. Somehow, inexplicably, Mr. Brown had forestalled them.
+Tommy accepted defeat quietly. Not so Julius.
+
+“How in tarnation did he get ahead of us? That’s what beats me!” he
+ended up.
+
+Tommy shook his head, and said dully:
+
+“It accounts for the stitches being new. We might have guessed....”
+
+“Never mind the darned stitches. How did he get ahead of us? We hustled
+all we knew. It’s downright impossible for anyone to get here quicker
+than we did. And, anyway, how did he know? Do you reckon there was a
+dictaphone in Jane’s room? I guess there must have been.”
+
+But Tommy’s common sense pointed out objections.
+
+“No one could have known beforehand that she was going to be in that
+house--much less that particular room.”
+
+“That’s so,” admitted Julius. “Then one of the nurses was a crook and
+listened at the door. How’s that?”
+
+“I don’t see that it matters anyway,” said Tommy wearily. “He may have
+found out some months ago, and removed the papers, then----No, by Jove,
+that won’t wash! They’d have been published at once.”
+
+“Sure thing they would! No, some one’s got ahead of us to-day by an hour
+or so. But how they did it gets my goat.”
+
+“I wish that chap Peel Edgerton had been with us,” said Tommy
+thoughtfully.
+
+“Why?” Julius stared. “The mischief was done when we came.”
+
+“Yes----” Tommy hesitated. He could not explain his own feeling--the
+illogical idea that the K.C.’s presence would somehow have averted the
+catastrophe. He reverted to his former point of view. “It’s no good
+arguing about how it was done. The game’s up. We’ve failed. There’s only
+one thing for me to do.”
+
+“What’s that?”
+
+“Get back to London as soon as possible. Mr. Carter must be warned. It’s
+only a matter of hours now before the blow falls. But, at any rate, he
+ought to know the worst.”
+
+The duty was an unpleasant one, but Tommy had no intention of shirking
+it. He must report his failure to Mr. Carter. After that his work was
+done. He took the midnight mail to London. Julius elected to stay the
+night at Holyhead.
+
+Half an hour after arrival, haggard and pale, Tommy stood before his
+chief.
+
+“I’ve come to report, sir. I’ve failed--failed badly.”
+
+Mr. Carter eyed him sharply.
+
+“You mean that the treaty----”
+
+“Is in the hands of Mr. Brown, sir.”
+
+“Ah!” said Mr. Carter quietly. The expression on his face did not
+change, but Tommy caught the flicker of despair in his eyes. It
+convinced him as nothing else had done that the outlook was hopeless.
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Carter after a minute or two, “we mustn’t sag at the
+knees, I suppose. I’m glad to know definitely. We must do what we can.”
+
+Through Tommy’s mind flashed the assurance: “It’s hopeless, and he knows
+it’s hopeless!”
+
+The other looked up at him.
+
+“Don’t take it to heart, lad,” he said kindly. “You did your best. You
+were up against one of the biggest brains of the century. And you came
+very near success. Remember that.”
+
+“Thank you, sir. It’s awfully decent of you.”
+
+“I blame myself. I have been blaming myself ever since I heard this
+other news.”
+
+Something in his tone attracted Tommy’s attention. A new fear gripped at
+his heart.
+
+“Is there--something more, sir?”
+
+“I’m afraid so,” said Mr. Carter gravely. He stretched out his hand to a
+sheet on the table.
+
+“Tuppence----?” faltered Tommy.
+
+“Read for yourself.”
+
+The typewritten words danced before his eyes. The description of a green
+toque, a coat with a handkerchief in the pocket marked P.L.C. He looked
+an agonized question at Mr. Carter. The latter replied to it:
+
+“Washed up on the Yorkshire coast--near Ebury. I’m afraid--it looks very
+much like foul play.”
+
+“My God!” gasped Tommy. “_Tuppence!_ Those devils--I’ll never rest till
+I’ve got even with them! I’ll hunt them down! I’ll----”
+
+The pity on Mr. Carter’s face stopped him.
+
+“I know what you feel like, my poor boy. But it’s no good. You’ll waste
+your strength uselessly. It may sound harsh, but my advice to you is:
+Cut your losses. Time’s merciful. You’ll forget.”
+
+“Forget Tuppence? Never!”
+
+Mr. Carter shook his head.
+
+“So you think now. Well, it won’t bear thinking of--that brave little
+girl! I’m sorry about the whole business--confoundedly sorry.”
+
+Tommy came to himself with a start.
+
+“I’m taking up your time, sir,” he said with an effort. “There’s no need
+for you to blame yourself. I dare say we were a couple of young fools to
+take on such a job. You warned us all right. But I wish to God I’d been
+the one to get it in the neck. Good-bye, sir.”
+
+Back at the _Ritz_, Tommy packed up his few belongings mechanically,
+his thoughts far away. He was still bewildered by the introduction of
+tragedy into his cheerful commonplace existence. What fun they had
+had together, he and Tuppence! And now--oh, he couldn’t believe it--it
+couldn’t be true! _Tuppence--dead!_ Little Tuppence, brimming over with
+life! It was a dream, a horrible dream. Nothing more.
+
+They brought him a note, a few kind words of sympathy from Peel
+Edgerton, who had read the news in the paper. (There had been a large
+headline: EX-V.A.D. FEARED DROWNED.) The letter ended with the offer
+of a post on a ranch in the Argentine, where Sir James had considerable
+interests.
+
+“Kind old beggar,” muttered Tommy, as he flung it aside.
+
+The door opened, and Julius burst in with his usual violence. He held an
+open newspaper in his hand.
+
+“Say, what’s all this? They seem to have got some fool idea about
+Tuppence.”
+
+“It’s true,” said Tommy quietly.
+
+“You mean they’ve done her in?”
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“I suppose when they got the treaty she--wasn’t any good to them any
+longer, and they were afraid to let her go.”
+
+“Well, I’m darned!” said Julius. “Little Tuppence. She sure was the
+pluckiest little girl----”
+
+But suddenly something seemed to crack in Tommy’s brain. He rose to his
+feet.
+
+“Oh, get out! You don’t really care, damn you! You asked her to marry
+you in your rotten cold-blooded way, but I _loved_ her. I’d have given
+the soul out of my body to save her from harm. I’d have stood by without
+a word and let her marry you, because you could have given her the sort
+of time she ought to have had, and I was only a poor devil without a
+penny to bless himself with. But it wouldn’t have been because I didn’t
+care!”
+
+“See here,” began Julius temperately.
+
+“Oh, go to the devil! I can’t stand your coming here and talking about
+‘little Tuppence.’ Go and look after your cousin. Tuppence is my girl!
+I’ve always loved her, from the time we played together as kids. We
+grew up and it was just the same. I shall never forget when I was in
+hospital, and she came in in that ridiculous cap and apron! It was like
+a miracle to see the girl I loved turn up in a nurse’s kit----”
+
+But Julius interrupted him.
+
+“A nurse’s kit! Gee whiz! I must be going to Colney Hatch! I could swear
+I’ve seen Jane in a nurse’s cap too. And that’s plumb impossible! No,
+by gum, I’ve got it! It was her I saw talking to Whittington at that
+nursing home in Bournemouth. She wasn’t a patient there! She was a
+nurse!”
+
+“I dare say,” said Tommy angrily, “she’s probably been in with them from
+the start. I shouldn’t wonder if she stole those papers from Danvers to
+begin with.”
+
+“I’m darned if she did!” shouted Julius. “She’s my cousin, and as
+patriotic a girl as ever stepped.”
+
+“I don’t care a damn what she is, but get out of here!” retorted Tommy
+also at the top of his voice.
+
+The young men were on the point of coming to blows. But suddenly, with
+an almost magical abruptness, Julius’s anger abated.
+
+“All right, son,” he said quietly, “I’m going. I don’t blame you any for
+what you’ve been saying. It’s mighty lucky you did say it. I’ve been
+the most almighty blithering darned idiot that it’s possible to imagine.
+Calm down”--Tommy had made an impatient gesture--“I’m going right away
+now--going to the London and North Western Railway depot, if you want to
+know.”
+
+“I don’t care a damn where you’re going,” growled Tommy.
+
+As the door closed behind Julius, he returned to his suit-case.
+
+“That’s the lot,” he murmured, and rang the bell.
+
+“Take my luggage down.”
+
+“Yes, sir. Going away, sir?”
+
+“I’m going to the devil,” said Tommy, regardless of the menial’s
+feelings.
+
+That functionary, however, merely replied respectfully:
+
+“Yes, sir. Shall I call a taxi?”
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+Where was he going? He hadn’t the faintest idea. Beyond a fixed
+determination to get even with Mr. Brown he had no plans. He re-read Sir
+James’s letter, and shook his head. Tuppence must be avenged. Still, it
+was kind of the old fellow.
+
+“Better answer it, I suppose.” He went across to the writing-table.
+With the usual perversity of bedroom stationery, there were innumerable
+envelopes and no paper. He rang. No one came. Tommy fumed at the
+delay. Then he remembered that there was a good supply in Julius’s
+sitting-room. The American had announced his immediate departure, there
+would be no fear of running up against him. Besides, he wouldn’t mind if
+he did. He was beginning to be rather ashamed of the things he had said.
+Old Julius had taken them jolly well. He’d apologize if he found him
+there.
+
+But the room was deserted. Tommy walked across to the writing-table,
+and opened the middle drawer. A photograph, carelessly thrust in face
+upwards, caught his eye. For a moment he stood rooted to the ground.
+Then he took it out, shut the drawer, walked slowly over to an
+arm-chair, and sat down still staring at the photograph in his hand.
+
+What on earth was a photograph of the French girl Annette doing in
+Julius Hersheimmer’s writing-table?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. IN DOWNING STREET
+
+THE Prime Minister tapped the desk in front of him with nervous fingers.
+His face was worn and harassed. He took up his conversation with Mr.
+Carter at the point it had broken off. “I don’t understand,” he said.
+“Do you really mean that things are not so desperate after all?”
+
+“So this lad seems to think.”
+
+“Let’s have a look at his letter again.”
+
+Mr. Carter handed it over. It was written in a sprawling boyish hand.
+
+“DEAR MR. CARTER,
+
+“Something’s turned up that has given me a jar. Of course I may be
+simply making an awful ass of myself, but I don’t think so. If my
+conclusions are right, that girl at Manchester was just a plant. The
+whole thing was prearranged, sham packet and all, with the object of
+making us think the game was up--therefore I fancy that we must have
+been pretty hot on the scent.
+
+“I think I know who the real Jane Finn is, and I’ve even got an idea
+where the papers are. That last’s only a guess, of course, but I’ve a
+sort of feeling it’ll turn out right. Anyhow, I enclose it in a sealed
+envelope for what it’s worth. I’m going to ask you not to open it until
+the very last moment, midnight on the 28th, in fact. You’ll understand
+why in a minute. You see, I’ve figured it out that those things of
+Tuppence’s are a plant too, and she’s no more drowned than I am. The way
+I reason is this: as a last chance they’ll let Jane Finn escape in
+the hope that she’s been shamming this memory stunt, and that once she
+thinks she’s free she’ll go right away to the cache. Of course it’s
+an awful risk for them to take, because she knows all about them--but
+they’re pretty desperate to get hold of that treaty. _But if they know
+that the papers have been recovered by us_, neither of those two girls’
+lives will be worth an hour’s purchase. I must try and get hold of
+Tuppence before Jane escapes.
+
+“I want a repeat of that telegram that was sent to Tuppence at the
+_Ritz_. Sir James Peel Edgerton said you would be able to manage that
+for me. He’s frightfully clever.
+
+“One last thing--please have that house in Soho watched day and night.
+
+“Yours, etc.,
+
+“THOMAS BERESFORD.”
+
+The Prime Minister looked up.
+
+“The enclosure?”
+
+Mr. Carter smiled dryly.
+
+“In the vaults of the Bank. I am taking no chances.”
+
+“You don’t think”--the Prime Minister hesitated a minute--“that it would
+be better to open it now? Surely we ought to secure the document, that
+is, provided the young man’s guess turns out to be correct, at once. We
+can keep the fact of having done so quite secret.”
+
+“Can we? I’m not so sure. There are spies all round us. Once it’s known
+I wouldn’t give that”--he snapped his fingers--“for the life of those
+two girls. No, the boy trusted me, and I shan’t let him down.”
+
+“Well, well, we must leave it at that, then. What’s he like, this lad?”
+
+“Outwardly, he’s an ordinary clean-limbed, rather block-headed young
+Englishman. Slow in his mental processes. On the other hand, it’s quite
+impossible to lead him astray through his imagination. He hasn’t got
+any--so he’s difficult to deceive. He worries things out slowly, and
+once he’s got hold of anything he doesn’t let go. The little lady’s
+quite different. More intuition and less common sense. They make a
+pretty pair working together. Pace and stamina.”
+
+“He seems confident,” mused the Prime Minister.
+
+“Yes, and that’s what gives me hope. He’s the kind of diffident youth
+who would have to be _very_ sure before he ventured an opinion at all.”
+
+A half smile came to the other’s lips.
+
+“And it is this--boy who will defeat the master criminal of our time?”
+
+“This--boy, as you say! But I sometimes fancy I see a shadow behind.”
+
+“You mean?”
+
+“Peel Edgerton.”
+
+“Peel Edgerton?” said the Prime Minister in astonishment.
+
+“Yes. I see his hand in _this_.” He struck the open letter. “He’s
+there--working in the dark, silently, unobtrusively. I’ve always felt
+that if anyone was to run Mr. Brown to earth, Peel Edgerton would be the
+man. I tell you he’s on the case now, but doesn’t want it known. By the
+way, I got rather an odd request from him the other day.”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+“He sent me a cutting from some American paper. It referred to a man’s
+body found near the docks in New York about three weeks ago. He asked me
+to collect any information on the subject I could.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+Carter shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I couldn’t get much. Young fellow about thirty-five--poorly
+dressed--face very badly disfigured. He was never identified.”
+
+“And you fancy that the two matters are connected in some way?”
+
+“Somehow I do. I may be wrong, of course.”
+
+There was a pause, then Mr. Carter continued:
+
+“I asked him to come round here. Not that we’ll get anything out of him
+he doesn’t want to tell. His legal instincts are too strong. But there’s
+no doubt he can throw light on one or two obscure points in young
+Beresford’s letter. Ah, here he is!”
+
+The two men rose to greet the new-comer. A half whimsical thought
+flashed across the Premier’s mind. “My successor, perhaps!”
+
+“We’ve had a letter from young Beresford,” said Mr. Carter, coming to
+the point at once. “You’ve seen him, I suppose?”
+
+“You suppose wrong,” said the lawyer.
+
+“Oh!” Mr. Carter was a little nonplussed.
+
+Sir James smiled, and stroked his chin.
+
+“He rang me up,” he volunteered.
+
+“Would you have any objection to telling us exactly what passed between
+you?”
+
+“Not at all. He thanked me for a certain letter which I had written to
+him--as a matter of fact, I had offered him a job. Then he reminded
+me of something I had said to him at Manchester respecting that bogus
+telegram which lured Miss Cowley away. I asked him if anything untoward
+had occurred. He said it had--that in a drawer in Mr. Hersheimmer’s room
+he had discovered a photograph.” The lawyer paused, then continued: “I
+asked him if the photograph bore the name and address of a Californian
+photographer. He replied: ‘You’re on to it, sir. It had.’ Then he went
+on to tell me something I _didn’t_ know. The original of that photograph
+was the French girl, Annette, who saved his life.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Exactly. I asked the young man with some curiosity what he had done
+with the photograph. He replied that he had put it back where he found
+it.” The lawyer paused again. “That was good, you know--distinctly
+good. He can use his brains, that young fellow. I congratulated him. The
+discovery was a providential one. Of course, from the moment that the
+girl in Manchester was proved to be a plant everything was altered.
+Young Beresford saw that for himself without my having to tell it
+him. But he felt he couldn’t trust his judgment on the subject of
+Miss Cowley. Did I think she was alive? I told him, duly weighing the
+evidence, that there was a very decided chance in favour of it. That
+brought us back to the telegram.”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+“I advised him to apply to you for a copy of the original wire. It
+had occurred to me as probable that, after Miss Cowley flung it on the
+floor, certain words might have been erased and altered with the express
+intention of setting searchers on a false trail.”
+
+Carter nodded. He took a sheet from his pocket, and read aloud:
+
+“Come at once, Astley Priors, Gatehouse, Kent. Great
+developments--TOMMY.”
+
+“Very simple,” said Sir James, “and very ingenious. Just a few words
+to alter, and the thing was done. And the one important clue they
+overlooked.”
+
+“What was that?”
+
+“The page-boy’s statement that Miss Cowley drove to Charing Cross. They
+were so sure of themselves that they took it for granted he had made a
+mistake.”
+
+“Then young Beresford is now?”
+
+“At Gatehouse, Kent, unless I am much mistaken.”
+
+Mr. Carter looked at him curiously.
+
+“I rather wonder you’re not there too, Peel Edgerton?”
+
+“Ah, I’m busy on a case.”
+
+“I thought you were on your holiday?”
+
+“Oh, I’ve not been briefed. Perhaps it would be more correct to say I’m
+preparing a case. Any more facts about that American chap for me?”
+
+“I’m afraid not. Is it important to find out who he was?”
+
+“Oh, I know who he was,” said Sir James easily. “I can’t prove it
+yet--but I know.”
+
+The other two asked no questions. They had an instinct that it would be
+mere waste of breath.
+
+“But what I don’t understand,” said the Prime-Minister suddenly, “is how
+that photograph came to be in Mr. Hersheimmer’s drawer?”
+
+“Perhaps it never left it,” suggested the lawyer gently.
+
+“But the bogus inspector? Inspector Brown?”
+
+“Ah!” said Sir James thoughtfully. He rose to his feet. “I mustn’t keep
+you. Go on with the affairs of the nation. I must get back to--my case.”
+
+Two days later Julius Hersheimmer returned from Manchester. A note from
+Tommy lay on his table:
+
+“DEAR HERSHEIMMER,
+
+“Sorry I lost my temper. In case I don’t see you again, good-bye. I’ve
+been offered a job in the Argentine, and might as well take it.
+
+“Yours,
+
+“TOMMY BERESFORD.”
+
+A peculiar smile lingered for a moment on Julius’s face. He threw the
+letter into the waste-paper basket.
+
+“The darned fool!” he murmured.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. A RACE AGAINST TIME
+
+AFTER ringing up Sir James, Tommy’s next procedure was to make a call
+at South Audley Mansions. He found Albert discharging his professional
+duties, and introduced himself without more ado as a friend of
+Tuppence’s. Albert unbent immediately.
+
+“Things has been very quiet here lately,” he said wistfully. “Hope the
+young lady’s keeping well, sir?”
+
+“That’s just the point, Albert. She’s disappeared.”
+
+“You don’t mean as the crooks have got her?”
+
+“They have.”
+
+“In the Underworld?”
+
+“No, dash it all, in this world!”
+
+“It’s a h’expression, sir,” explained Albert. “At the pictures the
+crooks always have a restoorant in the Underworld. But do you think as
+they’ve done her in, sir?”
+
+“I hope not. By the way, have you by any chance an aunt, a cousin,
+a grandmother, or any other suitable female relation who might be
+represented as being likely to kick the bucket?”
+
+A delighted grin spread slowly over Albert’s countenance.
+
+“I’m on, sir. My poor aunt what lives in the country has been mortal bad
+for a long time, and she’s asking for me with her dying breath.”
+
+Tommy nodded approval.
+
+“Can you report this in the proper quarter and meet me at Charing Cross
+in an hour’s time?”
+
+“I’ll be there, sir. You can count on me.”
+
+As Tommy had judged, the faithful Albert proved an invaluable ally. The
+two took up their quarters at the inn in Gatehouse. To Albert fell the
+task of collecting information. There was no difficulty about it.
+
+Astley Priors was the property of a Dr. Adams. The doctor no longer
+practiced, had retired, the landlord believed, but he took a few private
+patients--here the good fellow tapped his forehead knowingly--“balmy
+ones! You understand!” The doctor was a popular figure in the village,
+subscribed freely to all the local sports--“a very pleasant, affable
+gentleman.” Been there long? Oh, a matter of ten years or so--might be
+longer. Scientific gentleman, he was. Professors and people often came
+down from town to see him. Anyway, it was a gay house, always visitors.
+
+In the face of all this volubility, Tommy felt doubts. Was it possible
+that this genial, well-known figure could be in reality a dangerous
+criminal? His life seemed so open and aboveboard. No hint of sinister
+doings. Suppose it was all a gigantic mistake? Tommy felt a cold chill
+at the thought.
+
+Then he remembered the private patients--“balmy ones.” He inquired
+carefully if there was a young lady amongst them, describing Tuppence.
+But nothing much seemed to be known about the patients--they were seldom
+seen outside the grounds. A guarded description of Annette also failed
+to provoke recognition.
+
+Astley Priors was a pleasant red-brick edifice, surrounded by
+well-wooded grounds which effectually shielded the house from
+observation from the road.
+
+On the first evening Tommy, accompanied by Albert, explored the grounds.
+Owing to Albert’s insistence they dragged themselves along painfully on
+their stomachs, thereby producing a great deal more noise than if
+they had stood upright. In any case, these precautions were totally
+unnecessary. The grounds, like those of any other private house after
+nightfall, seemed untenanted. Tommy had imagined a possible fierce
+watchdog. Albert’s fancy ran to a puma, or a tame cobra. But they
+reached a shrubbery near the house quite unmolested.
+
+The blinds of the dining-room window were up. There was a large company
+assembled round the table. The port was passing from hand to hand. It
+seemed a normal, pleasant company. Through the open window scraps of
+conversation floated out disjointedly on the night air. It was a heated
+discussion on county cricket!
+
+Again Tommy felt that cold chill of uncertainty. It seemed impossible
+to believe that these people were other than they seemed. Had he been
+fooled once more? The fair-bearded, spectacled gentleman who sat at the
+head of the table looked singularly honest and normal.
+
+Tommy slept badly that night. The following morning the indefatigable
+Albert, having cemented an alliance with the greengrocer’s boy, took the
+latter’s place and ingratiated himself with the cook at Malthouse.
+He returned with the information that she was undoubtedly “one of
+the crooks,” but Tommy mistrusted the vividness of his imagination.
+Questioned, he could adduce nothing in support of his statement except
+his own opinion that she wasn’t the usual kind. You could see that at a
+glance.
+
+The substitution being repeated (much to the pecuniary advantage of the
+real greengrocer’s boy) on the following day, Albert brought back the
+first piece of hopeful news. There _was_ a French young lady staying
+in the house. Tommy put his doubts aside. Here was confirmation of
+his theory. But time pressed. To-day was the 27th. The 29th was the
+much-talked-of “Labour Day,” about which all sorts of rumours were
+running riot. Newspapers were getting agitated. Sensational hints of a
+Labour _coup d’état_ were freely reported. The Government said nothing.
+It knew and was prepared. There were rumours of dissension among the
+Labour leaders. They were not of one mind. The more far-seeing among
+them realized that what they proposed might well be a death-blow to the
+England that at heart they loved. They shrank from the starvation and
+misery a general strike would entail, and were willing to meet the
+Government half-way. But behind them were subtle, insistent forces at
+work, urging the memories of old wrongs, deprecating the weakness of
+half-and-half measures, fomenting misunderstandings.
+
+Tommy felt that, thanks to Mr. Carter, he understood the position fairly
+accurately. With the fatal document in the hands of Mr. Brown,
+public opinion would swing to the side of the Labour extremists and
+revolutionists. Failing that, the battle was an even chance. The
+Government with a loyal army and police force behind them might
+win--but at a cost of great suffering. But Tommy nourished another and
+a preposterous dream. With Mr. Brown unmasked and captured he
+believed, rightly or wrongly, that the whole organization would crumble
+ignominiously and instantaneously. The strange permeating influence
+of the unseen chief held it together. Without him, Tommy believed an
+instant panic would set in; and, the honest men left to themselves, an
+eleventh-hour reconciliation would be possible.
+
+“This is a one-man show,” said Tommy to himself. “The thing to do is to
+get hold of the man.”
+
+It was partly in furtherance of this ambitious design that he had
+requested Mr. Carter not to open the sealed envelope. The draft
+treaty was Tommy’s bait. Every now and then he was aghast at his own
+presumption. How dared he think that he had discovered what so many
+wiser and clever men had overlooked? Nevertheless, he stuck tenaciously
+to his idea.
+
+That evening he and Albert once more penetrated the grounds of Astley
+Priors. Tommy’s ambition was somehow or other to gain admission to the
+house itself. As they approached cautiously, Tommy gave a sudden gasp.
+
+On the second floor window some one standing between the window and
+the light in the room threw a silhouette on the blind. It was one Tommy
+would have recognized anywhere! Tuppence was in that house!
+
+He clutched Albert by the shoulder.
+
+“Stay here! When I begin to sing, watch that window.”
+
+He retreated hastily to a position on the main drive, and began in a
+deep roar, coupled with an unsteady gait, the following ditty:
+
+
+          I am a Soldier
+          A jolly British Soldier;
+          You can see that I’m a Soldier by my feet....
+
+It had been a favourite on the gramophone in Tuppence’s hospital days.
+He did not doubt but that she would recognize it and draw her own
+conclusions. Tommy had not a note of music in his voice, but his lungs
+were excellent. The noise he produced was terrific.
+
+Presently an unimpeachable butler, accompanied by an equally
+unimpeachable footman, issued from the front door. The butler
+remonstrated with him. Tommy continued to sing, addressing the butler
+affectionately as “dear old whiskers.” The footman took him by one arm,
+the butler by the other. They ran him down the drive, and neatly out
+of the gate. The butler threatened him with the police if he intruded
+again. It was beautifully done--soberly and with perfect decorum. Anyone
+would have sworn that the butler was a real butler, the footman a real
+footman--only, as it happened, the butler was Whittington!
+
+Tommy retired to the inn and waited for Albert’s return. At last that
+worthy made his appearance.
+
+“Well?” cried Tommy eagerly.
+
+“It’s all right. While they was a-running of you out the window opened,
+and something was chucked out.” He handed a scrap of paper to Tommy. “It
+was wrapped round a letterweight.”
+
+On the paper were scrawled three words: “To-morrow--same time.”
+
+“Good egg!” cried Tommy. “We’re getting going.”
+
+“I wrote a message on a piece of paper, wrapped it round a stone, and
+chucked it through the window,” continued Albert breathlessly.
+
+Tommy groaned.
+
+“Your zeal will be the undoing of us, Albert. What did you say?”
+
+“Said we was a-staying at the inn. If she could get away, to come there
+and croak like a frog.”
+
+“She’ll know that’s you,” said Tommy with a sigh of relief. “Your
+imagination runs away with you, you know, Albert. Why, you wouldn’t
+recognize a frog croaking if you heard it.”
+
+Albert looked rather crest-fallen.
+
+“Cheer up,” said Tommy. “No harm done. That butler’s an old friend of
+mine--I bet he knew who I was, though he didn’t let on. It’s not their
+game to show suspicion. That’s why we’ve found it fairly plain sailing.
+They don’t want to discourage me altogether. On the other hand, they
+don’t want to make it too easy. I’m a pawn in their game, Albert, that’s
+what I am. You see, if the spider lets the fly walk out too easily,
+the fly might suspect it was a put-up job. Hence the usefulness of that
+promising youth, Mr. T. Beresford, who’s blundered in just at the right
+moment for them. But later, Mr. T. Beresford had better look out!”
+
+Tommy retired for the night in a state of some elation. He had
+elaborated a careful plan for the following evening. He felt sure that
+the inhabitants of Astley Priors would not interfere with him up to
+a certain point. It was after that that Tommy proposed to give them a
+surprise.
+
+About twelve o’clock, however, his calm was rudely shaken. He was told
+that some one was demanding him in the bar. The applicant proved to be a
+rude-looking carter well coated with mud.
+
+“Well, my good fellow, what is it?” asked Tommy.
+
+“Might this be for you, sir?” The carter held out a very dirty folded
+note, on the outside of which was written: “Take this to the gentleman
+at the inn near Astley Priors. He will give you ten shillings.”
+
+The handwriting was Tuppence’s. Tommy appreciated her quick-wittedness
+in realizing that he might be staying at the inn under an assumed name.
+He snatched at it.
+
+“That’s all right.”
+
+The man withheld it.
+
+“What about my ten shillings?”
+
+Tommy hastily produced a ten-shilling note, and the man relinquished his
+find. Tommy unfastened it.
+
+“DEAR TOMMY,
+
+“I knew it was you last night. Don’t go this evening. They’ll be lying
+in wait for you. They’re taking us away this morning. I heard something
+about Wales--Holyhead, I think. I’ll drop this on the road if I get a
+chance. Annette told me how you’d escaped. Buck up.
+
+“Yours,
+
+“TWOPENCE.”
+
+Tommy raised a shout for Albert before he had even finished perusing
+this characteristic epistle.
+
+“Pack my bag! We’re off!”
+
+“Yes, sir.” The boots of Albert could be heard racing upstairs.
+Holyhead? Did that mean that, after all---- Tommy was puzzled. He read
+on slowly.
+
+The boots of Albert continued to be active on the floor above.
+
+Suddenly a second shout came from below.
+
+“Albert! I’m a damned fool! Unpack that bag!”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+Tommy smoothed out the note thoughtfully.
+
+“Yes, a damned fool,” he said softly. “But so’s some one else! And at
+last I know who it is!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. JULIUS TAKES A HAND
+
+IN his suite at Claridge’s, Kramenin reclined on a couch and dictated to
+his secretary in sibilant Russian.
+
+Presently the telephone at the secretary’s elbow purred, and he took up
+the receiver, spoke for a minute or two, then turned to his employer.
+
+“Some one below is asking for you.”
+
+“Who is it?”
+
+“He gives the name of Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer.”
+
+“Hersheimmer,” repeated Kramenin thoughtfully. “I have heard that name
+before.”
+
+“His father was one of the steel kings of America,” explained the
+secretary, whose business it was to know everything. “This young man
+must be a millionaire several times over.”
+
+The other’s eyes narrowed appreciatively.
+
+“You had better go down and see him, Ivan. Find out what he wants.”
+
+The secretary obeyed, closing the door noiselessly behind him. In a few
+minutes he returned.
+
+“He declines to state his business--says it is entirely private and
+personal, and that he must see you.”
+
+“A millionaire several times over,” murmured Kramenin. “Bring him up, my
+dear Ivan.”
+
+The secretary left the room once more, and returned escorting Julius.
+
+“Monsieur Kramenin?” said the latter abruptly.
+
+The Russian, studying him attentively with his pale venomous eyes,
+bowed.
+
+“Pleased to meet you,” said the American. “I’ve got some very important
+business I’d like to talk over with you, if I can see you alone.” He
+looked pointedly at the other.
+
+“My secretary, Monsieur Grieber, from whom I have no secrets.”
+
+“That may be so--but I have,” said Julius dryly. “So I’d be obliged if
+you’d tell him to scoot.”
+
+“Ivan,” said the Russian softly, “perhaps you would not mind retiring
+into the next room----”
+
+“The next room won’t do,” interrupted Julius. “I know these ducal
+suites--and I want this one plumb empty except for you and me. Send him
+round to a store to buy a penn’orth of peanuts.”
+
+Though not particularly enjoying the American’s free and easy manner
+of speech, Kramenin was devoured by curiosity. “Will your business take
+long to state?”
+
+“Might be an all night job if you caught on.”
+
+“Very good, Ivan. I shall not require you again this evening. Go to the
+theatre--take a night off.”
+
+“Thank you, your excellency.”
+
+The secretary bowed and departed.
+
+Julius stood at the door watching his retreat. Finally, with a satisfied
+sigh, he closed it, and came back to his position in the centre of the
+room.
+
+“Now, Mr. Hersheimmer, perhaps you will be so kind as to come to the
+point?”
+
+“I guess that won’t take a minute,” drawled Julius. Then, with an abrupt
+change of manner: “Hands up--or I shoot!”
+
+For a moment Kramenin stared blindly into the big automatic, then, with
+almost comical haste, he flung up his hands above his head. In that
+instant Julius had taken his measure. The man he had to deal with was an
+abject physical coward--the rest would be easy.
+
+“This is an outrage,” cried the Russian in a high hysterical voice. “An
+outrage! Do you mean to kill me?”
+
+“Not if you keep your voice down. Don’t go edging sideways towards that
+bell. That’s better.”
+
+“What do you want? Do nothing rashly. Remember my life is of the utmost
+value to my country. I may have been maligned----”
+
+“I reckon,” said Julius, “that the man who let daylight into you would
+be doing humanity a good turn. But you needn’t worry any. I’m not
+proposing to kill you this trip--that is, if you’re reasonable.”
+
+The Russian quailed before the stern menace in the other’s eyes. He
+passed his tongue over his dry lips.
+
+“What do you want? Money?”
+
+“No. I want Jane Finn.”
+
+“Jane Finn? I--never heard of her!”
+
+“You’re a darned liar! You know perfectly who I mean.”
+
+“I tell you I’ve never heard of the girl.”
+
+“And I tell you,” retorted Julius, “that Little Willie here is just
+hopping mad to go off!”
+
+The Russian wilted visibly.
+
+“You wouldn’t dare----”
+
+“Oh, yes, I would, son!”
+
+Kramenin must have recognized something in the voice that carried
+conviction, for he said sullenly:
+
+“Well? Granted I do know who you mean--what of it?”
+
+“You will tell me now--right here--where she is to be found.”
+
+Kramenin shook his head.
+
+“I daren’t.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“I daren’t. You ask an impossibility.”
+
+“Afraid, eh? Of whom? Mr. Brown? Ah, that tickles you up! There is such
+a person, then? I doubted it. And the mere mention of him scares you
+stiff!”
+
+“I have seen him,” said the Russian slowly. “Spoken to him face to face.
+I did not know it until afterwards. He was one of a crowd. I should not
+know him again. Who is he really? I do not know. But I know this--he is
+a man to fear.”
+
+“He’ll never know,” said Julius.
+
+“He knows everything--and his vengeance is swift. Even
+I--Kramenin!--would not be exempt!”
+
+“Then you won’t do as I ask you?”
+
+“You ask an impossibility.”
+
+“Sure that’s a pity for you,” said Julius cheerfully. “But the world in
+general will benefit.” He raised the revolver.
+
+“Stop,” shrieked the Russian. “You cannot mean to shoot me?”
+
+“Of course I do. I’ve always heard you Revolutionists held life cheap,
+but it seems there’s a difference when it’s your own life in question.
+I gave you just one chance of saving your dirty skin, and that you
+wouldn’t take!”
+
+“They would kill me!”
+
+“Well,” said Julius pleasantly, “it’s up to you. But I’ll just say this.
+Little Willie here is a dead cert, and if I was you I’d take a sporting
+chance with Mr. Brown!”
+
+“You will hang if you shoot me,” muttered the Russian irresolutely.
+
+“No, stranger, that’s where you’re wrong. You forget the dollars. A
+big crowd of solicitors will get busy, and they’ll get some high-brow
+doctors on the job, and the end of it all will be that they’ll say my
+brain was unhinged. I shall spend a few months in a quiet sanatorium, my
+mental health will improve, the doctors will declare me sane again, and
+all will end happily for little Julius. I guess I can bear a few months’
+retirement in order to rid the world of you, but don’t you kid yourself
+I’ll hang for it!”
+
+The Russian believed him. Corrupt himself, he believed implicitly in the
+power of money. He had read of American murder trials running much on
+the lines indicated by Julius. He had bought and sold justice himself.
+This virile young American, with the significant drawling voice, had the
+whip hand of him.
+
+“I’m going to count five,” continued Julius, “and I guess, if you let me
+get past four, you needn’t worry any about Mr. Brown. Maybe he’ll send
+some flowers to the funeral, but _you_ won’t smell them! Are you ready?
+I’ll begin. One--two--three--four----”
+
+The Russian interrupted with a shriek:
+
+“Do not shoot. I will do all you wish.”
+
+Julius lowered the revolver.
+
+“I thought you’d hear sense. Where is the girl?”
+
+“At Gatehouse, in Kent. Astley Priors, the place is called.”
+
+“Is she a prisoner there?”
+
+“She’s not allowed to leave the house--though it’s safe enough really.
+The little fool has lost her memory, curse her!”
+
+“That’s been annoying for you and your friends, I reckon. What about the
+other girl, the one you decoyed away over a week ago?”
+
+“She’s there too,” said the Russian sullenly.
+
+“That’s good,” said Julius. “Isn’t it all panning out beautifully? And a
+lovely night for the run!”
+
+“What run?” demanded Kramenin, with a stare.
+
+“Down to Gatehouse, sure. I hope you’re fond of motoring?”
+
+“What do you mean? I refuse to go.”
+
+“Now don’t get mad. You must see I’m not such a kid as to leave you
+here. You’d ring up your friends on that telephone first thing! Ah!” He
+observed the fall on the other’s face. “You see, you’d got it all fixed.
+No, sir, you’re coming along with me. This your bedroom next door here?
+Walk right in. Little Willie and I will come behind. Put on a thick
+coat, that’s right. Fur lined? And you a Socialist! Now we’re ready. We
+walk downstairs and out through the hall to where my car’s waiting. And
+don’t you forget I’ve got you covered every inch of the way. I can shoot
+just as well through my coat pocket. One word, or a glance even, at one
+of those liveried menials, and there’ll sure be a strange face in the
+Sulphur and Brimstone Works!”
+
+Together they descended the stairs, and passed out to the waiting car.
+The Russian was shaking with rage. The hotel servants surrounded them.
+A cry hovered on his lips, but at the last minute his nerve failed him.
+The American was a man of his word.
+
+When they reached the car, Julius breathed a sigh of relief. The
+danger-zone was passed. Fear had successfully hypnotized the man by his
+side.
+
+“Get in,” he ordered. Then as he caught the other’s sidelong glance,
+“No, the chauffeur won’t help you any. Naval man. Was on a submarine in
+Russia when the Revolution broke out. A brother of his was murdered by
+your people. George!”
+
+“Yes, sir?” The chauffeur turned his head.
+
+“This gentleman is a Russian Bolshevik. We don’t want to shoot him, but
+it may be necessary. You understand?”
+
+“Perfectly, sir.”
+
+“I want to go to Gatehouse in Kent. Know the road at all?”
+
+“Yes, sir, it will be about an hour and a half’s run.”
+
+“Make it an hour. I’m in a hurry.”
+
+“I’ll do my best, sir.” The car shot forward through the traffic.
+
+Julius ensconced himself comfortably by the side of his victim. He kept
+his hand in the pocket of his coat, but his manner was urbane to the
+last degree.
+
+“There was a man I shot once in Arizona----” he began cheerfully.
+
+At the end of the hour’s run the unfortunate Kramenin was more dead than
+alive. In succession to the anecdote of the Arizona man, there had been
+a tough from ‘Frisco, and an episode in the Rockies. Julius’s narrative
+style, if not strictly accurate, was picturesque!
+
+Slowing down, the chauffeur called over his shoulder that they were just
+coming into Gatehouse. Julius bade the Russian direct them. His plan was
+to drive straight up to the house. There Kramenin was to ask for the two
+girls. Julius explained to him that Little Willie would not be tolerant
+of failure. Kramenin, by this time, was as putty in the other’s hands.
+The terrific pace they had come had still further unmanned him. He had
+given himself up for dead at every corner.
+
+The car swept up the drive, and stopped before the porch. The chauffeur
+looked round for orders.
+
+“Turn the car first, George. Then ring the bell, and get back to your
+place. Keep the engine going, and be ready to scoot like hell when I
+give the word.”
+
+“Very good, sir.”
+
+The front door was opened by the butler. Kramenin felt the muzzle of the
+revolver pressed against his ribs.
+
+“Now,” hissed Julius. “And be careful.”
+
+The Russian beckoned. His lips were white, and his voice was not very
+steady:
+
+“It is I--Kramenin! Bring down the girl at once! There is no time to
+lose!”
+
+Whittington had come down the steps. He uttered an exclamation of
+astonishment at seeing the other.
+
+“You! What’s up? Surely you know the plan----”
+
+Kramenin interrupted him, using the words that have created many
+unnecessary panics:
+
+“We have been betrayed! Plans must be abandoned. We must save our own
+skins. The girl! And at once! It’s our only chance.”
+
+Whittington hesitated, but for hardly a moment.
+
+“You have orders--from _him?_”
+
+“Naturally! Should I be here otherwise? Hurry! There is no time to be
+lost. The other little fool had better come too.”
+
+Whittington turned and ran back into the house. The agonizing minutes
+went by. Then--two figures hastily huddled in cloaks appeared on the
+steps and were hustled into the car. The smaller of the two was inclined
+to resist and Whittington shoved her in unceremoniously. Julius leaned
+forward, and in doing so the light from the open door lit up his face.
+Another man on the steps behind Whittington gave a startled exclamation.
+Concealment was at an end.
+
+“Get a move on, George,” shouted Julius.
+
+The chauffeur slipped in his clutch, and with a bound the car started.
+
+The man on the steps uttered an oath. His hand went to his pocket. There
+was a flash and a report. The bullet just missed the taller girl by an
+inch.
+
+“Get down, Jane,” cried Julius. “Flat on the bottom of the car.” He
+thrust her sharply forward, then standing up, he took careful aim and
+fired.
+
+“Have you hit him?” cried Tuppence eagerly.
+
+“Sure,” replied Julius. “He isn’t killed, though. Skunks like that take
+a lot of killing. Are you all right, Tuppence?”
+
+“Of course I am. Where’s Tommy? And who’s this?” She indicated the
+shivering Kramenin.
+
+“Tommy’s making tracks for the Argentine. I guess he thought you’d
+turned up your toes. Steady through the gate, George! That’s right.
+It’ll take ‘em at least five minutes to get busy after us. They’ll use
+the telephone, I guess, so look out for snares ahead--and don’t take the
+direct route. Who’s this, did you say, Tuppence? Let me present Monsieur
+Kramenin. I persuaded him to come on the trip for his health.”
+
+The Russian remained mute, still livid with terror.
+
+“But what made them let us go?” demanded Tuppence suspiciously.
+
+“I reckon Monsieur Kramenin here asked them so prettily they just
+couldn’t refuse!”
+
+This was too much for the Russian. He burst out vehemently:
+
+“Curse you--curse you! They know now that I betrayed them. My life won’t
+be safe for an hour in this country.”
+
+“That’s so,” assented Julius. “I’d advise you to make tracks for Russia
+right away.”
+
+“Let me go, then,” cried the other. “I have done what you asked. Why do
+you still keep me with you?”
+
+“Not for the pleasure of your company. I guess you can get right off now
+if you want to. I thought you’d rather I tooled you back to London.”
+
+“You may never reach London,” snarled the other. “Let me go here and
+now.”
+
+“Sure thing. Pull up, George. The gentleman’s not making the return
+trip. If I ever come to Russia, Monsieur Kramenin, I shall expect a
+rousing welcome, and----”
+
+But before Julius had finished his speech, and before the car had
+finally halted, the Russian had swung himself out and disappeared into
+the night.
+
+“Just a mite impatient to leave us,” commented Julius, as the car
+gathered way again. “And no idea of saying good-bye politely to the
+ladies. Say, Jane, you can get up on the seat now.”
+
+For the first time the girl spoke.
+
+“How did you ‘persuade’ him?” she asked.
+
+Julius tapped his revolver.
+
+“Little Willie here takes the credit!”
+
+“Splendid!” cried the girl. The colour surged into her face, her eyes
+looked admiringly at Julius.
+
+“Annette and I didn’t know what was going to happen to us,” said
+Tuppence. “Old Whittington hurried us off. _We_ thought it was lambs to
+the slaughter.”
+
+“Annette,” said Julius. “Is that what you call her?”
+
+His mind seemed to be trying to adjust itself to a new idea.
+
+“It’s her name,” said Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide.
+
+“Shucks!” retorted Julius. “She may think it’s her name, because her
+memory’s gone, poor kid. But it’s the one real and original Jane Finn
+we’ve got here.”
+
+“What?” cried Tuppence.
+
+But she was interrupted. With an angry spurt, a bullet embedded itself
+in the upholstery of the car just behind her head.
+
+“Down with you,” cried Julius. “It’s an ambush. These guys have got busy
+pretty quickly. Push her a bit, George.”
+
+The car fairly leapt forward. Three more shots rang out, but went
+happily wide. Julius, upright, leant over the back of the car.
+
+“Nothing to shoot at,” he announced gloomily. “But I guess there’ll be
+another little picnic soon. Ah!”
+
+He raised his hand to his cheek.
+
+“You are hurt?” said Annette quickly.
+
+“Only a scratch.”
+
+The girl sprang to her feet.
+
+“Let me out! Let me out, I say! Stop the car. It is me they’re after.
+I’m the one they want. You shall not lose your lives because of me. Let
+me go.” She was fumbling with the fastenings of the door.
+
+Julius took her by both arms, and looked at her. She had spoken with no
+trace of foreign accent.
+
+“Sit down, kid,” he said gently. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with
+your memory. Been fooling them all the time, eh?”
+
+The girl looked at him, nodded, and then suddenly burst into tears.
+Julius patted her on the shoulder.
+
+“There, there--just you sit tight. We’re not going to let you quit.”
+
+Through her sobs the girl said indistinctly:
+
+“You’re from home. I can tell by your voice. It makes me home-sick.”
+
+“Sure I’m from home. I’m your cousin--Julius Hersheimmer. I came over to
+Europe on purpose to find you--and a pretty dance you’ve led me.”
+
+The car slackened speed. George spoke over his shoulder:
+
+“Cross-roads here, sir. I’m not sure of the way.”
+
+The car slowed down till it hardly moved. As it did so a figure climbed
+suddenly over the back, and plunged head first into the midst of them.
+
+“Sorry,” said Tommy, extricating himself.
+
+A mass of confused exclamations greeted him. He replied to them
+severally:
+
+“Was in the bushes by the drive. Hung on behind. Couldn’t let you know
+before at the pace you were going. It was all I could do to hang on. Now
+then, you girls, get out!”
+
+“Get out?”
+
+“Yes. There’s a station just up that road. Train due in three minutes.
+You’ll catch it if you hurry.”
+
+“What the devil are you driving at?” demanded Julius. “Do you think you
+can fool them by leaving the car?”
+
+“You and I aren’t going to leave the car. Only the girls.”
+
+“You’re crazed, Beresford. Stark staring mad! You can’t let those girls
+go off alone. It’ll be the end of it if you do.”
+
+Tommy turned to Tuppence.
+
+“Get out at once, Tuppence. Take her with you, and do just as I say.
+No one will do you any harm. You’re safe. Take the train to London. Go
+straight to Sir James Peel Edgerton. Mr. Carter lives out of town, but
+you’ll be safe with him.”
+
+“Darn you!” cried Julius. “You’re mad. Jane, you stay where you are.”
+
+With a sudden swift movement, Tommy snatched the revolver from Julius’s
+hand, and levelled it at him.
+
+“Now will you believe I’m in earnest? Get out, both of you, and do as I
+say--or I’ll shoot!”
+
+Tuppence sprang out, dragging the unwilling Jane after her.
+
+“Come on, it’s all right. If Tommy’s sure--he’s sure. Be quick. We’ll
+miss the train.”
+
+They started running.
+
+Julius’s pent-up rage burst forth.
+
+“What the hell----”
+
+Tommy interrupted him.
+
+“Dry up! I want a few words with you, Mr. Julius Hersheimmer.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. JANE’S STORY
+
+HER arm through Jane’s, dragging her along, Tuppence reached the
+station. Her quick ears caught the sound of the approaching train.
+
+“Hurry up,” she panted, “or we’ll miss it.”
+
+They arrived on the platform just as the train came to a standstill.
+Tuppence opened the door of an empty first-class compartment, and the
+two girls sank down breathless on the padded seats.
+
+A man looked in, then passed on to the next carriage. Jane started
+nervously. Her eyes dilated with terror. She looked questioningly at
+Tuppence.
+
+“Is he one of them, do you think?” she breathed.
+
+Tuppence shook her head.
+
+“No, no. It’s all right.” She took Jane’s hand in hers. “Tommy wouldn’t
+have told us to do this unless he was sure we’d be all right.”
+
+“But he doesn’t know them as I do!” The girl shivered. “You can’t
+understand. Five years! Five long years! Sometimes I thought I should go
+mad.”
+
+“Never mind. It’s all over.”
+
+“Is it?”
+
+The train was moving now, speeding through the night at a gradually
+increasing rate. Suddenly Jane Finn started up.
+
+“What was that? I thought I saw a face--looking in through the window.”
+
+“No, there’s nothing. See.” Tuppence went to the window, and lifting the
+strap let the pane down.
+
+“You’re sure?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+The other seemed to feel some excuse was necessary:
+
+“I guess I’m acting like a frightened rabbit, but I can’t help it. If
+they caught me now they’d----” Her eyes opened wide and staring.
+
+“_Don’t!_” implored Tuppence. “Lie back, and _don’t think_. You can be
+quite sure that Tommy wouldn’t have said it was safe if it wasn’t.”
+
+“My cousin didn’t think so. He didn’t want us to do this.”
+
+“No,” said Tuppence, rather embarrassed.
+
+“What are you thinking of?” said Jane sharply.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Your voice was so--queer!”
+
+“I _was_ thinking of something,” confessed Tuppence. “But I don’t want
+to tell you--not now. I may be wrong, but I don’t think so. It’s just
+an idea that came into my head a long time ago. Tommy’s got it too--I’m
+almost sure he has. But don’t _you_ worry--there’ll be time enough for
+that later. And it mayn’t be so at all! Do what I tell you--lie back and
+don’t think of anything.”
+
+“I’ll try.” The long lashes drooped over the hazel eyes.
+
+Tuppence, for her part, sat bolt upright--much in the attitude of a
+watchful terrier on guard. In spite of herself she was nervous. Her eyes
+flashed continually from one window to the other. She noted the exact
+position of the communication cord. What it was that she feared, she
+would have been hard put to it to say. But in her own mind she was
+far from feeling the confidence displayed in her words. Not that she
+disbelieved in Tommy, but occasionally she was shaken with doubts as to
+whether anyone so simple and honest as he was could ever be a match for
+the fiendish subtlety of the arch-criminal.
+
+If they once reached Sir James Peel Edgerton in safety, all would be
+well. But would they reach him? Would not the silent forces of Mr. Brown
+already be assembling against them? Even that last picture of Tommy,
+revolver in hand, failed to comfort her. By now he might be overpowered,
+borne down by sheer force of numbers.... Tuppence mapped out her plan of
+campaign.
+
+As the train at length drew slowly into Charing Cross, Jane Finn sat up
+with a start.
+
+“Have we arrived? I never thought we should!”
+
+“Oh, I thought we’d get to London all right. If there’s going to be any
+fun, now is when it will begin. Quick, get out. We’ll nip into a taxi.”
+
+In another minute they were passing the barrier, had paid the necessary
+fares, and were stepping into a taxi.
+
+“King’s Cross,” directed Tuppence. Then she gave a jump. A man looked in
+at the window, just as they started. She was almost certain it was the
+same man who had got into the carriage next to them. She had a horrible
+feeling of being slowly hemmed in on every side.
+
+“You see,” she explained to Jane, “if they think we’re going to Sir
+James, this will put them off the scent. Now they’ll imagine we’re going
+to Mr. Carter. His country place is north of London somewhere.”
+
+Crossing Holborn there was a block, and the taxi was held up. This was
+what Tuppence had been waiting for.
+
+“Quick,” she whispered. “Open the right-hand door!”
+
+The two girls stepped out into the traffic. Two minutes later they were
+seated in another taxi and were retracing their steps, this time direct
+to Carlton House Terrace.
+
+“There,” said Tuppence, with great satisfaction, “this ought to do them.
+I can’t help thinking that I’m really rather clever! How that other taxi
+man will swear! But I took his number, and I’ll send him a postal order
+to-morrow, so that he won’t lose by it if he happens to be genuine.
+What’s this thing swerving----Oh!”
+
+There was a grinding noise and a bump. Another taxi had collided with
+them.
+
+In a flash Tuppence was out on the pavement. A policeman was
+approaching. Before he arrived Tuppence had handed the driver five
+shillings, and she and Jane had merged themselves in the crowd.
+
+“It’s only a step or two now,” said Tuppence breathlessly. The accident
+had taken place in Trafalgar Square.
+
+“Do you think the collision was an accident, or done deliberately?”
+
+“I don’t know. It might have been either.”
+
+Hand-in-hand, the two girls hurried along.
+
+“It may be my fancy,” said Tuppence suddenly, “but I feel as though
+there was some one behind us.”
+
+“Hurry!” murmured the other. “Oh, hurry!”
+
+They were now at the corner of Carlton House Terrace, and their spirits
+lightened. Suddenly a large and apparently intoxicated man barred their
+way.
+
+“Good evening, ladies,” he hiccupped. “Whither away so fast?”
+
+“Let us pass, please,” said Tuppence imperiously.
+
+“Just a word with your pretty friend here.” He stretched out an unsteady
+hand, and clutched Jane by the shoulder. Tuppence heard other footsteps
+behind. She did not pause to ascertain whether they were friends or
+foes. Lowering her head, she repeated a manœuvre of childish days,
+and butted their aggressor full in the capacious middle. The success of
+these unsportsmanlike tactics was immediate. The man sat down abruptly
+on the pavement. Tuppence and Jane took to their heels. The house they
+sought was some way down. Other footsteps echoed behind them. Their
+breath was coming in choking gasps as they reached Sir James’s door.
+Tuppence seized the bell and Jane the knocker.
+
+The man who had stopped them reached the foot of the steps. For a moment
+he hesitated, and as he did so the door opened. They fell into the hall
+together. Sir James came forward from the library door.
+
+“Hullo! What’s this?”
+
+He stepped forward, and put his arm round Jane as she swayed
+uncertainly. He half carried her into the library, and laid her on the
+leather couch. From a tantalus on the table he poured out a few drops of
+brandy, and forced her to drink them. With a sigh she sat up, her eyes
+still wild and frightened.
+
+“It’s all right. Don’t be afraid, my child. You’re quite safe.”
+
+Her breath came more normally, and the colour was returning to her
+cheeks. Sir James looked at Tuppence quizzically.
+
+“So you’re not dead, Miss Tuppence, any more than that Tommy boy of
+yours was!”
+
+“The Young Adventurers take a lot of killing,” boasted Tuppence.
+
+“So it seems,” said Sir James dryly. “Am I right in thinking that the
+joint venture has ended in success, and that this”--he turned to the
+girl on the couch--“is Miss Jane Finn?”
+
+Jane sat up.
+
+“Yes,” she said quietly, “I am Jane Finn. I have a lot to tell you.”
+
+“When you are stronger----”
+
+“No--now!” Her voice rose a little. “I shall feel safer when I have told
+everything.”
+
+“As you please,” said the lawyer.
+
+He sat down in one of the big arm-chairs facing the couch. In a low
+voice Jane began her story.
+
+“I came over on the _Lusitania_ to take up a post in Paris. I was
+fearfully keen about the war, and just dying to help somehow or other. I
+had been studying French, and my teacher said they were wanting help in
+a hospital in Paris, so I wrote and offered my services, and they were
+accepted. I hadn’t got any folk of my own, so it made it easy to arrange
+things.
+
+“When the _Lusitania_ was torpedoed, a man came up to me. I’d noticed
+him more than once--and I’d figured it out in my own mind that he
+was afraid of somebody or something. He asked me if I was a patriotic
+American, and told me he was carrying papers which were just life or
+death to the Allies. He asked me to take charge of them. I was to watch
+for an advertisement in the _Times_. If it didn’t appear, I was to take
+them to the American Ambassador.
+
+“Most of what followed seems like a nightmare still. I see it in my
+dreams sometimes.... I’ll hurry over that part. Mr. Danvers had told me
+to watch out. He might have been shadowed from New York, but he didn’t
+think so. At first I had no suspicions, but on the boat to Holyhead I
+began to get uneasy. There was one woman who had been very keen to look
+after me, and chum up with me generally--a Mrs. Vandemeyer. At first I’d
+been only grateful to her for being so kind to me; but all the time I
+felt there was something about her I didn’t like, and on the Irish
+boat I saw her talking to some queer-looking men, and from the way they
+looked I saw that they were talking about me. I remembered that she’d
+been quite near me on the _Lusitania_ when Mr. Danvers gave me the
+packet, and before that she’d tried to talk to him once or twice. I
+began to get scared, but I didn’t quite see what to do.
+
+“I had a wild idea of stopping at Holyhead, and not going on to London
+that day, but I soon saw that that would be plumb foolishness. The only
+thing was to act as though I’d noticed nothing, and hope for the best.
+I couldn’t see how they could get me if I was on my guard. One thing
+I’d done already as a precaution--ripped open the oilskin packet and
+substituted blank paper, and then sewn it up again. So, if anyone did
+manage to rob me of it, it wouldn’t matter.
+
+“What to do with the real thing worried me no end. Finally I opened it
+out flat--there were only two sheets--and laid it between two of the
+advertisement pages of a magazine. I stuck the two pages together
+round the edge with some gum off an envelope. I carried the magazine
+carelessly stuffed into the pocket of my ulster.
+
+“At Holyhead I tried to get into a carriage with people that looked all
+right, but in a queer way there seemed always to be a crowd round me
+shoving and pushing me just the way I didn’t want to go. There was
+something uncanny and frightening about it. In the end I found myself in
+a carriage with Mrs. Vandemeyer after all. I went out into the corridor,
+but all the other carriages were full, so I had to go back and sit down.
+I consoled myself with the thought that there were other people in the
+carriage--there was quite a nice-looking man and his wife sitting just
+opposite. So I felt almost happy about it until just outside London. I
+had leaned back and closed my eyes. I guess they thought I was asleep,
+but my eyes weren’t quite shut, and suddenly I saw the nice-looking man
+get something out of his bag and hand it to Mrs. Vandemeyer, and as he
+did so he _winked_....
+
+“I can’t tell you how that wink sort of froze me through and through. My
+only thought was to get out in the corridor as quick as ever I could. I
+got up, trying to look natural and easy. Perhaps they saw something--I
+don’t know--but suddenly Mrs. Vandemeyer said ‘Now,’ and flung something
+over my nose and mouth as I tried to scream. At the same moment I felt a
+terrific blow on the back of my head....”
+
+She shuddered. Sir James murmured something sympathetically. In a minute
+she resumed:
+
+“I don’t know how long it was before I came back to consciousness. I
+felt very ill and sick. I was lying on a dirty bed. There was a
+screen round it, but I could hear two people talking in the room. Mrs.
+Vandemeyer was one of them. I tried to listen, but at first I couldn’t
+take much in. When at last I did begin to grasp what was going on--I was
+just terrified! I wonder I didn’t scream right out there and then.
+
+“They hadn’t found the papers. They’d got the oilskin packet with the
+blanks, and they were just mad! They didn’t know whether _I_‘d changed
+the papers, or whether Danvers had been carrying a dummy message,
+while the real one was sent another way. They spoke of”--she closed her
+eyes--“torturing me to find out!
+
+“I’d never known what fear--really sickening fear--was before! Once
+they came to look at me. I shut my eyes and pretended to be still
+unconscious, but I was afraid they’d hear the beating of my heart.
+However, they went away again. I began thinking madly. What could I do?
+I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand up against torture very long.
+
+“Suddenly something put the thought of loss of memory into my head. The
+subject had always interested me, and I’d read an awful lot about it.
+I had the whole thing at my finger-tips. If only I could succeed in
+carrying the bluff through, it might save me. I said a prayer, and drew
+a long breath. Then I opened my eyes and started babbling in _French!_
+
+“Mrs. Vandemeyer came round the screen at once. Her face was so wicked I
+nearly died, but I smiled up at her doubtfully, and asked her in French
+where I was.
+
+“It puzzled her, I could see. She called the man she had been talking
+to. He stood by the screen with his face in shadow. He spoke to me in
+French. His voice was very ordinary and quiet, but somehow, I don’t know
+why, he scared me worse than the woman. I felt he’d seen right through
+me, but I went on playing my part. I asked again where I was, and
+then went on that there was something I _must_ remember--_must_
+remember--only for the moment it was all gone. I worked myself up to
+be more and more distressed. He asked me my name. I said I didn’t
+know--that I couldn’t remember anything at all.
+
+“Suddenly he caught my wrist, and began twisting it. The pain was awful.
+I screamed. He went on. I screamed and screamed, but I managed to shriek
+out things in French. I don’t know how long I could have gone on, but
+luckily I fainted. The last thing I heard was his voice saying: ‘That’s
+not bluff! Anyway, a kid of her age wouldn’t know enough.’ I guess he
+forgot American girls are older for their age than English ones, and
+take more interest in scientific subjects.
+
+“When I came to, Mrs. Vandemeyer was sweet as honey to me. She’d had her
+orders, I guess. She spoke to me in French--told me I’d had a shock
+and been very ill. I should be better soon. I pretended to be rather
+dazed--murmured something about the ‘doctor’ having hurt my wrist. She
+looked relieved when I said that.
+
+“By and by she went out of the room altogether. I was suspicious still,
+and lay quite quiet for some time. In the end, however, I got up and
+walked round the room, examining it. I thought that even if anyone
+_was_ watching me from somewhere, it would seem natural enough under
+the circumstances. It was a squalid, dirty place. There were no windows,
+which seemed queer. I guessed the door would be locked, but I didn’t
+try it. There were some battered old pictures on the walls, representing
+scenes from _Faust_.”
+
+Jane’s two listeners gave a simultaneous “Ah!” The girl nodded.
+
+“Yes--it was the place in Soho where Mr. Beresford was imprisoned. Of
+course, at the time I didn’t even know if I was in London. One thing was
+worrying me dreadfully, but my heart gave a great throb of relief when
+I saw my ulster lying carelessly over the back of a chair. _And the
+magazine was still rolled up in the pocket!_
+
+“If only I could be certain that I was not being overlooked! I looked
+carefully round the walls. There didn’t seem to be a peep-hole of any
+kind--nevertheless I felt kind of sure there must be. All of a sudden I
+sat down on the edge of the table, and put my face in my hands, sobbing
+out a ‘Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!’ I’ve got very sharp ears. I distinctly heard
+the rustle of a dress, and slight creak. That was enough for me. I was
+being watched!
+
+“I lay down on the bed again, and by and by Mrs. Vandemeyer brought me
+some supper. She was still sweet as they make them. I guess she’d been
+told to win my confidence. Presently she produced the oilskin packet,
+and asked me if I recognized it, watching me like a lynx all the time.
+
+“I took it and turned it over in a puzzled sort of way. Then I shook my
+head. I said that I felt I _ought_ to remember something about it, that
+it was just as though it was all coming back, and then, before I could
+get hold of it, it went again. Then she told me that I was her niece,
+and that I was to call her ‘Aunt Rita.’ I did obediently, and she told
+me not to worry--my memory would soon come back.
+
+“That was an awful night. I’d made my plan whilst I was waiting for her.
+The papers were safe so far, but I couldn’t take the risk of leaving
+them there any longer. They might throw that magazine away any minute.
+I lay awake waiting until I judged it must be about two o’clock in the
+morning. Then I got up as softly as I could, and felt in the dark along
+the left-hand wall. Very gently, I unhooked one of the pictures from its
+nail--Marguerite with her casket of jewels. I crept over to my coat and
+took out the magazine, and an odd envelope or two that I had shoved in.
+Then I went to the washstand, and damped the brown paper at the back
+of the picture all round. Presently I was able to pull it away. I had
+already torn out the two stuck-together pages from the magazine, and now
+I slipped them with their precious enclosure between the picture and its
+brown paper backing. A little gum from the envelopes helped me to
+stick the latter up again. No one would dream the picture had ever been
+tampered with. I rehung it on the wall, put the magazine back in my
+coat pocket, and crept back to bed. I was pleased with my hiding-place.
+They’d never think of pulling to pieces one of their own pictures. I
+hoped that they’d come to the conclusion that Danvers had been carrying
+a dummy all along, and that, in the end, they’d let me go.
+
+“As a matter of fact, I guess that’s what they did think at first, and,
+in a way, it was dangerous for me. I learnt afterwards that they nearly
+did away with me then and there--there was never much chance of their
+‘letting me go’--but the first man, who was the boss, preferred to keep
+me alive on the chance of my having hidden them, and being able to tell
+where if I recovered my memory. They watched me constantly for weeks.
+Sometimes they’d ask me questions by the hour--I guess there was nothing
+they didn’t know about the third degree!--but somehow I managed to hold
+my own. The strain of it was awful, though....
+
+“They took me back to Ireland, and over every step of the journey again,
+in case I’d hidden it somewhere _en route_. Mrs. Vandemeyer and another
+woman never left me for a moment. They spoke of me as a young relative
+of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s whose mind was affected by the shock of the
+_Lusitania_. There was no one I could appeal to for help without
+giving myself away to _them_, and if I risked it and failed--and Mrs.
+Vandemeyer looked so rich, and so beautifully dressed, that I felt
+convinced they’d take her word against mine, and think it was part of my
+mental trouble to think myself ‘persecuted’--I felt that the horrors in
+store for me would be too awful once they knew I’d been only shamming.”
+
+Sir James nodded comprehendingly.
+
+“Mrs. Vandemeyer was a woman of great personality. With that and her
+social position she would have had little difficulty in imposing her
+point of view in preference to yours. Your sensational accusations
+against her would not easily have found credence.”
+
+“That’s what I thought. It ended in my being sent to a sanatorium at
+Bournemouth. I couldn’t make up my mind at first whether it was a sham
+affair or genuine. A hospital nurse had charge of me. I was a special
+patient. She seemed so nice and normal that at last I determined to
+confide in her. A merciful providence just saved me in time from falling
+into the trap. My door happened to be ajar, and I heard her talking to
+some one in the passage. _She was one of them!_ They still fancied it
+might be a bluff on my part, and she was put in charge of me to make
+sure! After that, my nerve went completely. I dared trust nobody.
+
+“I think I almost hypnotized myself. After a while, I almost forgot
+that I was really Jane Finn. I was so bent on playing the part of Janet
+Vandemeyer that my nerves began to play me tricks. I became really
+ill--for months I sank into a sort of stupor. I felt sure I should
+die soon, and that nothing really mattered. A sane person shut up in a
+lunatic asylum often ends by becoming insane, they say. I guess I was
+like that. Playing my part had become second nature to me. I wasn’t even
+unhappy in the end--just apathetic. Nothing seemed to matter. And the
+years went on.
+
+“And then suddenly things seemed to change. Mrs. Vandemeyer came down
+from London. She and the doctor asked me questions, experimented with
+various treatments. There was some talk of sending me to a specialist in
+Paris. In the end, they did not dare risk it. I overheard something that
+seemed to show that other people--friends--were looking for me. I
+learnt later that the nurse who had looked after me went to Paris,
+and consulted a specialist, representing herself to be me. He put her
+through some searching tests, and exposed her loss of memory to be
+fraudulent; but she had taken a note of his methods and reproduced
+them on me. I dare say I couldn’t have deceived the specialist for a
+minute--a man who has made a lifelong study of a thing is unique--but
+I managed once again to hold my own with them. The fact that I’d not
+thought of myself as Jane Finn for so long made it easier.
+
+“One night I was whisked off to London at a moment’s notice. They took
+me back to the house in Soho. Once I got away from the sanatorium I felt
+different--as though something in me that had been buried for a long
+time was waking up again.
+
+“They sent me in to wait on Mr. Beresford. (Of course I didn’t know
+his name then.) I was suspicious--I thought it was another trap. But he
+looked so honest, I could hardly believe it. However, I was careful in
+all I said, for I knew we could be overheard. There’s a small hole, high
+up in the wall.
+
+“But on the Sunday afternoon a message was brought to the house. They
+were all very disturbed. Without their knowing, I listened. Word had
+come that he was to be killed. I needn’t tell the next part, because
+you know it. I thought I’d have time to rush up and get the papers from
+their hiding-place, but I was caught. So I screamed out that he was
+escaping, and I said I wanted to go back to Marguerite. I shouted the
+name three times very loud. I knew the others would think I meant
+Mrs. Vandemeyer, but I hoped it might make Mr. Beresford think of the
+picture. He’d unhooked one the first day--that’s what made me hesitate
+to trust him.”
+
+She paused.
+
+“Then the papers,” said Sir James slowly, “are still at the back of the
+picture in that room.”
+
+“Yes.” The girl had sunk back on the sofa exhausted with the strain of
+the long story.
+
+Sir James rose to his feet. He looked at his watch.
+
+“Come,” he said, “we must go at once.”
+
+“To-night?” queried Tuppence, surprised.
+
+“To-morrow may be too late,” said Sir James gravely. “Besides, by
+going to-night we have the chance of capturing that great man and
+super-criminal--Mr. Brown!”
+
+There was dead silence, and Sir James continued:
+
+“You have been followed here--not a doubt of it. When we leave the house
+we shall be followed again, but not molested, _for it is Mr. Brown’s
+plan that we are to lead him_. But the Soho house is under police
+supervision night and day. There are several men watching it. When we
+enter that house, Mr. Brown will not draw back--he will risk all, on the
+chance of obtaining the spark to fire his mine. And he fancies the risk
+not great--since he will enter in the guise of a friend!”
+
+Tuppence flushed, then opened her mouth impulsively.
+
+“But there’s something you don’t know--that we haven’t told you.” Her
+eyes dwelt on Jane in perplexity.
+
+“What is that?” asked the other sharply. “No hesitations, Miss Tuppence.
+We need to be sure of our going.”
+
+But Tuppence, for once, seemed tongue-tied.
+
+“It’s so difficult--you see, if I’m wrong--oh, it would be dreadful.”
+ She made a grimace at the unconscious Jane. “Never forgive me,” she
+observed cryptically.
+
+“You want me to help you out, eh?”
+
+“Yes, please. _You_ know who Mr. Brown is, don’t you?”
+
+“Yes,” said Sir James gravely. “At last I do.”
+
+“At last?” queried Tuppence doubtfully. “Oh, but I thought----” She
+paused.
+
+“You thought correctly, Miss Tuppence. I have been morally certain of
+his identity for some time--ever since the night of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s
+mysterious death.”
+
+“Ah!” breathed Tuppence.
+
+“For there we are up against the logic of facts. There are only two
+solutions. Either the chloral was administered by her own hand, which
+theory I reject utterly, or else----”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+“Or else it was administered in the brandy you gave her. Only three
+people touched that brandy--you, Miss Tuppence, I myself, and one
+other--Mr. Julius Hersheimmer!”
+
+Jane Finn stirred and sat up, regarding the speaker with wide astonished
+eyes.
+
+“At first, the thing seemed utterly impossible. Mr. Hersheimmer, as the
+son of a prominent millionaire, was a well-known figure in America. It
+seemed utterly impossible that he and Mr. Brown could be one and the
+same. But you cannot escape from the logic of facts. Since the thing
+was so--it must be accepted. Remember Mrs. Vandemeyer’s sudden and
+inexplicable agitation. Another proof, if proof was needed.
+
+“I took an early opportunity of giving you a hint. From some words of
+Mr. Hersheimmer’s at Manchester, I gathered that you had understood and
+acted on that hint. Then I set to work to prove the impossible possible.
+Mr. Beresford rang me up and told me, what I had already suspected,
+that the photograph of Miss Jane Finn had never really been out of Mr.
+Hersheimmer’s possession----”
+
+But the girl interrupted. Springing to her feet, she cried out angrily:
+
+“What do you mean? What are you trying to suggest? That Mr. Brown is
+_Julius?_ Julius--my own cousin!”
+
+“No, Miss Finn,” said Sir James unexpectedly. “Not your cousin. The man
+who calls himself Julius Hersheimmer is no relation to you whatsoever.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. MR. BROWN
+
+SIR James’s words came like a bomb-shell. Both girls looked equally
+puzzled. The lawyer went across to his desk, and returned with a small
+newspaper cutting, which he handed to Jane. Tuppence read it over
+her shoulder. Mr. Carter would have recognized it. It referred to the
+mysterious man found dead in New York.
+
+“As I was saying to Miss Tuppence,” resumed the lawyer, “I set to work
+to prove the impossible possible. The great stumbling-block was the
+undeniable fact that Julius Hersheimmer was not an assumed name. When I
+came across this paragraph my problem was solved. Julius Hersheimmer set
+out to discover what had become of his cousin. He went out West, where
+he obtained news of her and her photograph to aid him in his search. On
+the eve of his departure from New York he was set upon and murdered. His
+body was dressed in shabby clothes, and the face disfigured to prevent
+identification. Mr. Brown took his place. He sailed immediately for
+England. None of the real Hersheimmer’s friends or intimates saw him
+before he sailed--though indeed it would hardly have mattered if they
+had, the impersonation was so perfect. Since then he had been hand and
+glove with those sworn to hunt him down. Every secret of theirs has been
+known to him. Only once did he come near disaster. Mrs. Vandemeyer knew
+his secret. It was no part of his plan that that huge bribe should ever
+be offered to her. But for Miss Tuppence’s fortunate change of plan, she
+would have been far away from the flat when we arrived there. Exposure
+stared him in the face. He took a desperate step, trusting in his
+assumed character to avert suspicion. He nearly succeeded--but not
+quite.”
+
+“I can’t believe it,” murmured Jane. “He seemed so splendid.”
+
+“The real Julius Hersheimmer _was_ a splendid fellow! And Mr. Brown is
+a consummate actor. But ask Miss Tuppence if she also has not had her
+suspicions.”
+
+Jane turned mutely to Tuppence. The latter nodded.
+
+“I didn’t want to say it, Jane--I knew it would hurt you. And, after
+all, I couldn’t be sure. I still don’t understand why, if he’s Mr.
+Brown, he rescued us.”
+
+“Was it Julius Hersheimmer who helped you to escape?”
+
+Tuppence recounted to Sir James the exciting events of the evening,
+ending up: “But I can’t see _why!_”
+
+“Can’t you? I can. So can young Beresford, by his actions. As a last
+hope Jane Finn was to be allowed to escape--and the escape must be
+managed so that she harbours no suspicions of its being a put-up job.
+They’re not averse to young Beresford’s being in the neighbourhood, and,
+if necessary, communicating with you. They’ll take care to get him out
+of the way at the right minute. Then Julius Hersheimmer dashes up and
+rescues you in true melodramatic style. Bullets fly--but don’t hit
+anybody. What would have happened next? You would have driven straight
+to the house in Soho and secured the document which Miss Finn would
+probably have entrusted to her cousin’s keeping. Or, if he conducted the
+search, he would have pretended to find the hiding-place already rifled.
+He would have had a dozen ways of dealing with the situation, but the
+result would have been the same. And I rather fancy some accident would
+have happened to both of you. You see, you know rather an inconvenient
+amount. That’s a rough outline. I admit I was caught napping; but
+somebody else wasn’t.”
+
+“Tommy,” said Tuppence softly.
+
+“Yes. Evidently when the right moment came to get rid of him--he was too
+sharp for them. All the same, I’m not too easy in my mind about him.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because Julius Hersheimmer is Mr. Brown,” said Sir James dryly. “And it
+takes more than one man and a revolver to hold up Mr. Brown....”
+
+Tuppence paled a little.
+
+“What can we do?”
+
+“Nothing until we’ve been to the house in Soho. If Beresford has still
+got the upper hand, there’s nothing to fear. If otherwise, our enemy
+will come to find us, and he will not find us unprepared!” From a drawer
+in the desk, he took a service revolver, and placed it in his coat
+pocket.
+
+“Now we’re ready. I know better than even to suggest going without you,
+Miss Tuppence----”
+
+“I should think so indeed!”
+
+“But I do suggest that Miss Finn should remain here. She will be
+perfectly safe, and I am afraid she is absolutely worn out with all she
+has been through.”
+
+But to Tuppence’s surprise Jane shook her head.
+
+“No. I guess I’m going too. Those papers were my trust. I must go
+through with this business to the end. I’m heaps better now anyway.”
+
+Sir James’s car was ordered round. During the short drive Tuppence’s
+heart beat tumultuously. In spite of momentary qualms of uneasiness
+respecting Tommy, she could not but feel exultation. They were going to
+win!
+
+The car drew up at the corner of the square and they got out. Sir James
+went up to a plain-clothes man who was on duty with several others, and
+spoke to him. Then he rejoined the girls.
+
+“No one has gone into the house so far. It is being watched at the back
+as well, so they are quite sure of that. Anyone who attempts to enter
+after we have done so will be arrested immediately. Shall we go in?”
+
+A policeman produced a key. They all knew Sir James well. They had also
+had orders respecting Tuppence. Only the third member of the party was
+unknown to them. The three entered the house, pulling the door to behind
+them. Slowly they mounted the rickety stairs. At the top was the ragged
+curtain hiding the recess where Tommy had hidden that day. Tuppence had
+heard the story from Jane in her character of “Annette.” She looked at
+the tattered velvet with interest. Even now she could almost swear it
+moved--as though _some one_ was behind it. So strong was the illusion
+that she almost fancied she could make out the outline of a form....
+Supposing Mr. Brown--Julius--was there waiting....
+
+Impossible of course! Yet she almost went back to put the curtain aside
+and make sure....
+
+Now they were entering the prison room. No place for anyone to hide
+here, thought Tuppence, with a sigh of relief, then chided herself
+indignantly. She must not give way to this foolish fancying--this
+curious insistent feeling that _Mr. Brown was in the house_.... Hark!
+what was that? A stealthy footstep on the stairs? There _was_ some one
+in the house! Absurd! She was becoming hysterical.
+
+Jane had gone straight to the picture of Marguerite. She unhooked it
+with a steady hand. The dust lay thick upon it, and festoons of cobwebs
+lay between it and the wall. Sir James handed her a pocket-knife, and
+she ripped away the brown paper from the back.... The advertisement
+page of a magazine fell out. Jane picked it up. Holding apart the frayed
+inner edges she extracted two thin sheets covered with writing!
+
+No dummy this time! The real thing!
+
+“We’ve got it,” said Tuppence. “At last....”
+
+The moment was almost breathless in its emotion. Forgotten the faint
+creakings, the imagined noises of a minute ago. None of them had eyes
+for anything but what Jane held in her hand.
+
+Sir James took it, and scrutinized it attentively.
+
+“Yes,” he said quietly, “this is the ill-fated draft treaty!”
+
+“We’ve succeeded,” said Tuppence. There was awe and an almost wondering
+unbelief in her voice.
+
+Sir James echoed her words as he folded the paper carefully and put it
+away in his pocket-book, then he looked curiously round the dingy room.
+
+“It was here that our young friend was confined for so long, was
+it not?” he said. “A truly sinister room. You notice the absence of
+windows, and the thickness of the close-fitting door. Whatever took
+place here would never be heard by the outside world.”
+
+Tuppence shivered. His words woke a vague alarm in her. What if there
+_was_ some one concealed in the house? Some one who might bar that door
+on them, and leave them to die like rats in a trap? Then she realized
+the absurdity of her thought. The house was surrounded by police who,
+if they failed to reappear, would not hesitate to break in and make a
+thorough search. She smiled at her own foolishness--then looked up with
+a start to find Sir James watching her. He gave her an emphatic little
+nod.
+
+“Quite right, Miss Tuppence. You scent danger. So do I. So does Miss
+Finn.”
+
+“Yes,” admitted Jane. “It’s absurd--but I can’t help it.”
+
+Sir James nodded again.
+
+“You feel--as we all feel-- _the presence of Mr. Bown_. Yes”--as
+Tuppence made a movement--“not a doubt of it-- _Mr. Brown is here_....”
+
+“In this house?”
+
+“In this room.... You don’t understand? _I am Mr. Brown_....”
+
+Stupefied, unbelieving, they stared at him. The very lines of his face
+had changed. It was a different man who stood before them. He smiled a
+slow cruel smile.
+
+“Neither of you will leave this room alive! You said just now we had
+succeeded. _I_ have succeeded! The draft treaty is mine.” His smile grew
+wider as he looked at Tuppence. “Shall I tell you how it will be? Sooner
+or later the police will break in, and they will find three victims of
+Mr. Brown--three, not two, you understand, but fortunately the third
+will not be dead, only wounded, and will be able to describe the attack
+with a wealth of detail! The treaty? It is in the hands of Mr. Brown. So
+no one will think of searching the pockets of Sir James Peel Edgerton!”
+
+He turned to Jane.
+
+“You outwitted me. I make my acknowledgments. But you will not do it
+again.”
+
+There was a faint sound behind him, but, intoxicated with success, he
+did not turn his head.
+
+He slipped his hand into his pocket.
+
+“Checkmate to the Young Adventurers,” he said, and slowly raised the big
+automatic.
+
+But, even as he did so, he felt himself seized from behind in a grip of
+iron. The revolver was wrenched from his hand, and the voice of Julius
+Hersheimmer said drawlingly:
+
+“I guess you’re caught redhanded with the goods upon you.”
+
+The blood rushed to the K.C.’s face, but his self-control was
+marvellous, as he looked from one to the other of his two captors. He
+looked longest at Tommy.
+
+“You,” he said beneath his breath. “_You!_ I might have known.”
+
+Seeing that he was disposed to offer no resistance, their grip
+slackened. Quick as a flash his left hand, the hand which bore the big
+signet ring, was raised to his lips....
+
+“‘_Ave, Cæsar! te morituri salutant_,’” he said, still looking at
+Tommy.
+
+Then his face changed, and with a long convulsive shudder he fell
+forward in a crumpled heap, whilst an odour of bitter almonds filled the
+air.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. A SUPPER PARTY AT THE _SAVOY_
+
+THE supper party given by Mr. Julius Hersheimmer to a few friends on the
+evening of the 30th will long be remembered in catering circles. It took
+place in a private room, and Mr. Hersheimmer’s orders were brief and
+forcible. He gave carte blanche--and when a millionaire gives carte
+blanche he usually gets it!
+
+Every delicacy out of season was duly provided. Waiters carried bottles
+of ancient and royal vintage with loving care. The floral decorations
+defied the seasons, and fruits of the earth as far apart as May and
+November found themselves miraculously side by side. The list of guests
+was small and select. The American Ambassador, Mr. Carter, who had taken
+the liberty, he said, of bringing an old friend, Sir William Beresford,
+with him, Archdeacon Cowley, Dr. Hall, those two youthful adventurers,
+Miss Prudence Cowley and Mr. Thomas Beresford, and last, but not least,
+as guest of honour, Miss Jane Finn.
+
+Julius had spared no pains to make Jane’s appearance a success. A
+mysterious knock had brought Tuppence to the door of the apartment she
+was sharing with the American girl. It was Julius. In his hand he held a
+cheque.
+
+“Say, Tuppence,” he began, “will you do me a good turn? Take this, and
+get Jane regularly togged up for this evening. You’re all coming to
+supper with me at the _Savoy_. See? Spare no expense. You get me?”
+
+“Sure thing,” mimicked Tuppence. “We shall enjoy ourselves. It will be a
+pleasure dressing Jane. She’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
+
+“That’s so,” agreed Mr. Hersheimmer fervently.
+
+His fervour brought a momentary twinkle to Tuppence’s eye.
+
+“By the way, Julius,” she remarked demurely, “I--haven’t given you my
+answer yet.”
+
+“Answer?” said Julius. His face paled.
+
+“You know--when you asked me to--marry you,” faltered Tuppence, her
+eyes downcast in the true manner of the early Victorian heroine, “and
+wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’ve thought it well over----”
+
+“Yes?” said Julius. The perspiration stood on his forehead.
+
+Tuppence relented suddenly.
+
+“You great idiot!” she said. “What on earth induced you to do it? I
+could see at the time you didn’t care a twopenny dip for me!”
+
+“Not at all. I had--and still have--the highest sentiments of esteem and
+respect--and admiration for you----”
+
+“H’m!” said Tuppence. “Those are the kind of sentiments that very soon
+go to the wall when the other sentiment comes along! Don’t they, old
+thing?”
+
+“I don’t know what you mean,” said Julius stiffly, but a large and
+burning blush overspread his countenance.
+
+“Shucks!” retorted Tuppence. She laughed, and closed the door, reopening
+it to add with dignity: “Morally, I shall always consider I have been
+jilted!”
+
+“What was it?” asked Jane as Tuppence rejoined her.
+
+“Julius.”
+
+“What did he want?”
+
+“Really, I think, he wanted to see you, but I wasn’t going to let him.
+Not until to-night, when you’re going to burst upon every one like King
+Solomon in his glory! Come on! _We’re going to shop!_”
+
+To most people the 29th, the much-heralded “Labour Day,” had passed much
+as any other day. Speeches were made in the Park and Trafalgar Square.
+Straggling processions, singing the _Red Flag_, wandered through the
+streets in a more or less aimless manner. Newspapers which had hinted at
+a general strike, and the inauguration of a reign of terror, were forced
+to hide their diminished heads. The bolder and more astute among
+them sought to prove that peace had been effected by following their
+counsels. In the Sunday papers a brief notice of the sudden death of Sir
+James Peel Edgerton, the famous K.C., had appeared. Monday’s paper
+dealt appreciatively with the dead man’s career. The exact manner of his
+sudden death was never made public.
+
+Tommy had been right in his forecast of the situation. It had been a
+one-man show. Deprived of their chief, the organization fell to pieces.
+Kramenin had made a precipitate return to Russia, leaving England early
+on Sunday morning. The gang had fled from Astley Priors in a panic,
+leaving behind, in their haste, various damaging documents which
+compromised them hopelessly. With these proofs of conspiracy in their
+hands, aided further by a small brown diary taken from the pocket of the
+dead man which had contained a full and damning résumé of the whole
+plot, the Government had called an eleventh-hour conference. The Labour
+leaders were forced to recognize that they had been used as a cat’s
+paw. Certain concessions were made by the Government, and were eagerly
+accepted. It was to be Peace, not War!
+
+But the Cabinet knew by how narrow a margin they had escaped utter
+disaster. And burnt in on Mr. Carter’s brain was the strange scene which
+had taken place in the house in Soho the night before.
+
+He had entered the squalid room to find that great man, the friend of
+a lifetime, dead--betrayed out of his own mouth. From the dead man’s
+pocket-book he had retrieved the ill-omened draft treaty, and then
+and there, in the presence of the other three, it had been reduced to
+ashes.... England was saved!
+
+And now, on the evening of the 30th, in a private room at the _Savoy_,
+Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer was receiving his guests.
+
+Mr. Carter was the first to arrive. With him was a choleric-looking old
+gentleman, at sight of whom Tommy flushed up to the roots of his hair.
+He came forward.
+
+“Ha!” said the old gentleman, surveying him apoplectically. “So you’re
+my nephew, are you? Not much to look at--but you’ve done good work, it
+seems. Your mother must have brought you up well after all. Shall we
+let bygones be bygones, eh? You’re my heir, you know; and in future I
+propose to make you an allowance--and you can look upon Chalmers Park as
+your home.”
+
+“Thank you, sir, it’s awfully decent of you.”
+
+“Where’s this young lady I’ve been hearing such a lot about?”
+
+Tommy introduced Tuppence.
+
+“Ha!” said Sir William, eyeing her. “Girls aren’t what they used to be
+in my young days.”
+
+“Yes, they are,” said Tuppence. “Their clothes are different, perhaps,
+but they themselves are just the same.”
+
+“Well, perhaps you’re right. Minxes then--minxes now!”
+
+“That’s it,” said Tuppence. “I’m a frightful minx myself.”
+
+“I believe you,” said the old gentleman, chuckling, and pinched her ear
+in high good-humour. Most young women were terrified of the “old bear,”
+ as they termed him. Tuppence’s pertness delighted the old misogynist.
+
+Then came the timid archdeacon, a little bewildered by the company in
+which he found himself, glad that his daughter was considered to have
+distinguished herself, but unable to help glancing at her from time
+to time with nervous apprehension. But Tuppence behaved admirably. She
+forbore to cross her legs, set a guard upon her tongue, and steadfastly
+refused to smoke.
+
+Dr. Hall came next, and he was followed by the American Ambassador.
+
+“We might as well sit down,” said Julius, when he had introduced all his
+guests to each other. “Tuppence, will you----”
+
+He indicated the place of honour with a wave of his hand.
+
+But Tuppence shook her head.
+
+“No--that’s Jane’s place! When one thinks of how she’s held out all
+these years, she ought to be made the queen of the feast to-night.”
+
+Julius flung her a grateful glance, and Jane came forward shyly to the
+allotted seat. Beautiful as she had seemed before, it was as nothing to
+the loveliness that now went fully adorned. Tuppence had performed her
+part faithfully. The model gown supplied by a famous dressmaker had been
+entitled “A tiger lily.” It was all golds and reds and browns, and out
+of it rose the pure column of the girl’s white throat, and the bronze
+masses of hair that crowned her lovely head. There was admiration in
+every eye, as she took her seat.
+
+Soon the supper party was in full swing, and with one accord Tommy was
+called upon for a full and complete explanation.
+
+“You’ve been too darned close about the whole business,” Julius accused
+him. “You let on to me that you were off to the Argentine--though I
+guess you had your reasons for that. The idea of both you and Tuppence
+casting me for the part of Mr. Brown just tickles me to death!”
+
+“The idea was not original to them,” said Mr. Carter gravely. “It was
+suggested, and the poison very carefully instilled, by a past-master in
+the art. The paragraph in the New York paper suggested the plan to him,
+and by means of it he wove a web that nearly enmeshed you fatally.”
+
+“I never liked him,” said Julius. “I felt from the first that there was
+something wrong about him, and I always suspected that it was he who
+silenced Mrs. Vandemeyer so appositely. But it wasn’t till I heard that
+the order for Tommy’s execution came right on the heels of our interview
+with him that Sunday that I began to tumble to the fact that he was the
+big bug himself.”
+
+“I never suspected it at all,” lamented Tuppence. “I’ve always thought
+I was so much cleverer than Tommy--but he’s undoubtedly scored over me
+handsomely.”
+
+Julius agreed.
+
+“Tommy’s been the goods this trip! And, instead of sitting there as dumb
+as a fish, let him banish his blushes, and tell us all about it.”
+
+“Hear! hear!”
+
+“There’s nothing to tell,” said Tommy, acutely uncomfortable. “I was an
+awful mug--right up to the time I found that photograph of Annette, and
+realized that she was Jane Finn. Then I remembered how persistently she
+had shouted out that word ‘Marguerite’--and I thought of the pictures,
+and--well, that’s that. Then of course I went over the whole thing to
+see where I’d made an ass of myself.”
+
+“Go on,” said Mr. Carter, as Tommy showed signs of taking refuge in
+silence once more.
+
+“That business about Mrs. Vandemeyer had worried me when Julius told me
+about it. On the face of it, it seemed that he or Sir James must have
+done the trick. But I didn’t know which. Finding that photograph in the
+drawer, after that story of how it had been got from him by Inspector
+Brown, made me suspect Julius. Then I remembered that it was Sir James
+who had discovered the false Jane Finn. In the end, I couldn’t make up
+my mind--and just decided to take no chances either way. I left a note
+for Julius, in case he was Mr. Brown, saying I was off to the Argentine,
+and I dropped Sir James’s letter with the offer of the job by the desk
+so that he would see it was a genuine stunt. Then I wrote my letter to
+Mr. Carter and rang up Sir James. Taking him into my confidence would
+be the best thing either way, so I told him everything except where I
+believed the papers to be hidden. The way he helped me to get on the
+track of Tuppence and Annette almost disarmed me, but not quite. I kept
+my mind open between the two of them. And then I got a bogus note from
+Tuppence--and I knew!”
+
+“But how?”
+
+Tommy took the note in question from his pocket and passed it round the
+table.
+
+“It’s her handwriting all right, but I knew it wasn’t from her because
+of the signature. She’d never spell her name ‘Twopence,’ but anyone
+who’d never seen it written might quite easily do so. Julius _had_ seen
+it--he showed me a note of hers to him once--but _Sir James hadn’t!_
+After that everything was plain sailing. I sent off Albert post-haste to
+Mr. Carter. I pretended to go away, but doubled back again. When Julius
+came bursting up in his car, I felt it wasn’t part of Mr. Brown’s
+plan--and that there would probably be trouble. Unless Sir James was
+actually caught in the act, so to speak, I knew Mr. Carter would never
+believe it of him on my bare word----”
+
+“I didn’t,” interposed Mr. Carter ruefully.
+
+“That’s why I sent the girls off to Sir James. I was sure they’d fetch
+up at the house in Soho sooner or later. I threatened Julius with the
+revolver, because I wanted Tuppence to repeat that to Sir James, so that
+he wouldn’t worry about us. The moment the girls were out of sight I
+told Julius to drive like hell for London, and as we went along I told
+him the whole story. We got to the Soho house in plenty of time and met
+Mr. Carter outside. After arranging things with him we went in and hid
+behind the curtain in the recess. The policemen had orders to say, if
+they were asked, that no one had gone into the house. That’s all.”
+
+And Tommy came to an abrupt halt.
+
+There was silence for a moment.
+
+“By the way,” said Julius suddenly, “you’re all wrong about that
+photograph of Jane. It _was_ taken from me, but I found it again.”
+
+“Where?” cried Tuppence.
+
+“In that little safe on the wall in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s bedroom.”
+
+“I knew you found something,” said Tuppence reproachfully. “To tell you
+the truth, that’s what started me off suspecting you. Why didn’t you
+say?”
+
+“I guess I was a mite suspicious too. It had been got away from me once,
+and I determined I wouldn’t let on I’d got it until a photographer had
+made a dozen copies of it!”
+
+“We all kept back something or other,” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “I
+suppose secret service work makes you like that!”
+
+In the pause that ensued, Mr. Carter took from his pocket a small shabby
+brown book.
+
+“Beresford has just said that I would not have believed Sir James Peel
+Edgerton to be guilty unless, so to speak, he was caught in the act.
+That is so. Indeed, not until I read the entries in this little book
+could I bring myself fully to credit the amazing truth. This book will
+pass into the possession of Scotland Yard, but it will never be publicly
+exhibited. Sir James’s long association with the law would make it
+undesirable. But to you, who know the truth, I propose to read certain
+passages which will throw some light on the extraordinary mentality of
+this great man.”
+
+He opened the book, and turned the thin pages.
+
+“... It is madness to keep this book. I know that. It is documentary
+evidence against me. But I have never shrunk from taking risks. And I
+feel an urgent need for self-expression.... The book will only be taken
+from my dead body....
+
+“... From an early age I realized that I had exceptional abilities. Only
+a fool underestimates his capabilities. My brain power was greatly above
+the average. I know that I was born to succeed. My appearance was
+the only thing against me. I was quiet and insignificant--utterly
+nondescript....
+
+“... When I was a boy I heard a famous murder trial. I was deeply
+impressed by the power and eloquence of the counsel for the defence.
+For the first time I entertained the idea of taking my talents to that
+particular market.... Then I studied the criminal in the dock.... The
+man was a fool--he had been incredibly, unbelievably stupid. Even
+the eloquence of his counsel was hardly likely to save him. I felt
+an immeasurable contempt for him.... Then it occurred to me that the
+criminal standard was a low one. It was the wastrels, the failures, the
+general riff-raff of civilization who drifted into crime....
+Strange that men of brains had never realized its extraordinary
+opportunities.... I played with the idea.... What a magnificent
+field--what unlimited possibilities! It made my brain reel....
+
+“... I read standard works on crime and criminals. They all confirmed my
+opinion. Degeneracy, disease--never the deliberate embracing of a career
+by a far-seeing man. Then I considered. Supposing my utmost ambitions
+were realized--that I was called to the bar, and rose to the height of
+my profession? That I entered politics--say, even, that I became Prime
+Minister of England? What then? Was that power? Hampered at every turn
+by my colleagues, fettered by the democratic system of which I should
+be the mere figurehead! No--the power I dreamed of was absolute! An
+autocrat! A dictator! And such power could only be obtained by working
+outside the law. To play on the weaknesses of human nature, then on the
+weaknesses of nations--to get together and control a vast organization,
+and finally to overthrow the existing order, and rule! The thought
+intoxicated me....
+
+“... I saw that I must lead two lives. A man like myself is bound to
+attract notice. I must have a successful career which would mask my true
+activities.... Also I must cultivate a personality. I modelled myself
+upon famous K.C.’s. I reproduced their mannerisms, their magnetism. If I
+had chosen to be an actor, I should have been the greatest actor living!
+No disguises--no grease paint--no false beards! Personality! I put it
+on like a glove! When I shed it, I was myself, quiet, unobtrusive, a man
+like every other man. I called myself Mr. Brown. There are hundreds of
+men called Brown--there are hundreds of men looking just like me....
+
+“... I succeeded in my false career. I was bound to succeed. I shall
+succeed in the other. A man like me cannot fail....
+
+“... I have been reading a life of Napoleon. He and I have much in
+common....
+
+“... I make a practice of defending criminals. A man should look after
+his own people....
+
+“... Once or twice I have felt afraid. The first time was in Italy.
+There was a dinner given. Professor D----, the great alienist, was
+present. The talk fell on insanity. He said, ‘A great many men are
+mad, and no one knows it. They do not know it themselves.’ I do not
+understand why he looked at me when he said that. His glance was
+strange.... I did not like it....
+
+“... The war has disturbed me.... I thought it would further my plans.
+The Germans are so efficient. Their spy system, too, was excellent.
+The streets are full of these boys in khaki. All empty-headed young
+fools.... Yet I do not know.... They won the war.... It disturbs me....
+
+“... My plans are going well.... A girl butted in--I do not think she
+really knew anything.... But we must give up the Esthonia.... No risks
+now....
+
+“.... All goes well. The loss of memory is vexing. It cannot be a fake.
+No girl could deceive ME!...
+
+“...The 29th.... That is very soon....” Mr. Carter paused.
+
+“I will not read the details of the _coup_ that was planned. But there
+are just two small entries that refer to the three of you. In the light
+of what happened they are interesting.
+
+“... By inducing the girl to come to me of her own accord, I have
+succeeded in disarming her. But she has intuitive flashes that might be
+dangerous.... She must be got out of the way.... I can do nothing with
+the American. He suspects and dislikes me. But he cannot know. I fancy
+my armour is impregnable.... Sometimes I fear I have underestimated
+the other boy. He is not clever, but it is hard to blind his eyes to
+facts....”
+
+Mr. Carter shut the book.
+
+“A great man,” he said. “Genius, or insanity, who can say?”
+
+There was silence.
+
+Then Mr. Carter rose to his feet.
+
+“I will give you a toast. The Joint Venture which has so amply justified
+itself by success!”
+
+It was drunk with acclamation.
+
+“There’s something more we want to hear,” continued Mr. Carter. He
+looked at the American Ambassador. “I speak for you also, I know. We’ll
+ask Miss Jane Finn to tell us the story that only Miss Tuppence has
+heard so far--but before we do so we’ll drink her health. The health of
+one of the bravest of America’s daughters, to whom is due the thanks and
+gratitude of two great countries!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. AND AFTER
+
+“THAT was a mighty good toast, Jane,” said Mr. Hersheimmer, as he and
+his cousin were being driven back in the Rolls-Royce to the _Ritz_.
+
+“The one to the joint venture?”
+
+“No--the one to you. There isn’t another girl in the world who could
+have carried it through as you did. You were just wonderful!”
+
+Jane shook her head.
+
+“I don’t feel wonderful. At heart I’m just tired and lonesome--and
+longing for my own country.”
+
+“That brings me to something I wanted to say. I heard the Ambassador
+telling you his wife hoped you would come to them at the Embassy right
+away. That’s good enough, but I’ve got another plan. Jane--I want you to
+marry me! Don’t get scared and say no at once. You can’t love me right
+away, of course, that’s impossible. But I’ve loved you from the very
+moment I set eyes on your photo--and now I’ve seen you I’m simply crazy
+about you! If you’ll only marry me, I won’t worry you any--you shall
+take your own time. Maybe you’ll never come to love me, and if that’s
+the case I’ll manage to set you free. But I want the right to look after
+you, and take care of you.”
+
+“That’s what I want,” said the girl wistfully. “Some one who’ll be good
+to me. Oh, you don’t know how lonesome I feel!”
+
+“Sure thing I do. Then I guess that’s all fixed up, and I’ll see the
+archbishop about a special license to-morrow morning.”
+
+“Oh, Julius!”
+
+“Well, I don’t want to hustle you any, Jane, but there’s no sense in
+waiting about. Don’t be scared--I shan’t expect you to love me all at
+once.”
+
+But a small hand was slipped into his.
+
+“I love you now, Julius,” said Jane Finn. “I loved you that first moment
+in the car when the bullet grazed your cheek....”
+
+Five minutes later Jane murmured softly:
+
+“I don’t know London very well, Julius, but is it such a very long way
+from the _Savoy_ to the _Ritz?_”
+
+“It depends how you go,” explained Julius unblushingly. “We’re going by
+way of Regent’s Park!”
+
+“Oh, Julius--what will the chauffeur think?”
+
+“At the wages I pay him, he knows better than to do any independent
+thinking. Why, Jane, the only reason I had the supper at the _Savoy_ was
+so that I could drive you home. I didn’t see how I was ever going to
+get hold of you alone. You and Tuppence have been sticking together
+like Siamese twins. I guess another day of it would have driven me and
+Beresford stark staring mad!”
+
+“Oh. Is he----?”
+
+“Of course he is. Head over ears.”
+
+“I thought so,” said Jane thoughtfully.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“From all the things Tuppence didn’t say!”
+
+“There you have me beat,” said Mr. Hersheimmer. But Jane only laughed.
+
+In the meantime, the Young Adventurers were sitting bolt upright,
+very stiff and ill at ease, in a taxi which, with a singular lack of
+originality, was also returning to the _Ritz_ via Regent’s Park.
+
+A terrible constraint seemed to have settled down between them. Without
+quite knowing what had happened, everything seemed changed. They were
+tongue-tied--paralysed. All the old _camaraderie_ was gone.
+
+Tuppence could think of nothing to say.
+
+Tommy was equally afflicted.
+
+They sat very straight and forbore to look at each other.
+
+At last Tuppence made a desperate effort.
+
+“Rather fun, wasn’t it?”
+
+“Rather.”
+
+Another silence.
+
+“I like Julius,” essayed Tuppence again.
+
+Tommy was suddenly galvanized into life.
+
+“You’re not going to marry him, do you hear?” he said dictatorially. “I
+forbid it.”
+
+“Oh!” said Tuppence meekly.
+
+“Absolutely, you understand.”
+
+“He doesn’t want to marry me--he really only asked me out of kindness.”
+
+“That’s not very likely,” scoffed Tommy.
+
+“It’s quite true. He’s head over ears in love with Jane. I expect he’s
+proposing to her now.”
+
+“She’ll do for him very nicely,” said Tommy condescendingly.
+
+“Don’t you think she’s the most lovely creature you’ve ever seen?”
+
+“Oh, I dare say.”
+
+“But I suppose you prefer sterling worth,” said Tuppence demurely.
+
+“I--oh, dash it all, Tuppence, you know!”
+
+“I like your uncle, Tommy,” said Tuppence, hastily creating a diversion.
+“By the way, what are you going to do, accept Mr. Carter’s offer of
+a Government job, or accept Julius’s invitation and take a richly
+remunerated post in America on his ranch?”
+
+“I shall stick to the old ship, I think, though it’s awfully good of
+Hersheimmer. But I feel you’d be more at home in London.”
+
+“I don’t see where I come in.”
+
+“I do,” said Tommy positively.
+
+Tuppence stole a glance at him sideways.
+
+“There’s the money, too,” she observed thoughtfully.
+
+“What money?”
+
+“We’re going to get a cheque each. Mr. Carter told me so.”
+
+“Did you ask how much?” inquired Tommy sarcastically.
+
+“Yes,” said Tuppence triumphantly. “But I shan’t tell you.”
+
+“Tuppence, you are the limit!”
+
+“It has been fun, hasn’t it, Tommy? I do hope we shall have lots more
+adventures.”
+
+“You’re insatiable, Tuppence. I’ve had quite enough adventures for the
+present.”
+
+“Well, shopping is almost as good,” said Tuppence dreamily. “Think of
+buying old furniture, and bright carpets, and futurist silk curtains,
+and a polished dining-table, and a divan with lots of cushions.”
+
+“Hold hard,” said Tommy. “What’s all this for?”
+
+“Possibly a house--but I think a flat.”
+
+“Whose flat?”
+
+“You think I mind saying it, but I don’t in the least! _Ours_, so
+there!”
+
+“You darling!” cried Tommy, his arms tightly round her. “I was
+determined to make you say it. I owe you something for the relentless
+way you’ve squashed me whenever I’ve tried to be sentimental.”
+
+Tuppence raised her face to his. The taxi proceeded on its course round
+the north side of Regent’s Park.
+
+“You haven’t really proposed now,” pointed out Tuppence. “Not what our
+grandmothers would call a proposal. But after listening to a rotten one
+like Julius’s, I’m inclined to let you off.”
+
+“You won’t be able to get out of marrying me, so don’t you think it.”
+
+“What fun it will be,” responded Tuppence. “Marriage is called all sorts
+of things, a haven, and a refuge, and a crowning glory, and a state of
+bondage, and lots more. But do you know what I think it is?”
+
+“What?”
+
+“A sport!”
+
+“And a damned good sport too,” said Tommy.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1155 ***