diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/rff4410.txt | 16194 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/rff4410.zip | bin | 0 -> 256497 bytes |
2 files changed, 16194 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/rff4410.txt b/old/rff4410.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9102bb7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rff4410.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16194 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext Peter Ruff and the Double Four, by Oppenheim +#8 in our series by E. Phillips Oppenheim + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Peter Ruff and the Double Four + +by E. Phillips Oppenheim + +November, 1999 [Etext #1976] +[Date last updated: June 8, 2006] + + +Project Gutenberg Etext Peter Ruff and the Double Four, by Oppenheim +********This file should be named rff4410.txt or rff4410.zip******** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, rff4411.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rff4410a.txt + + +This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. + + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text +files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly +from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an +assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few +more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we +don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person. + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails. . .try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +We would prefer to send you this information by email. + +****** + +To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser +to view http://promo.net/pg. This site lists Etexts by +author and by title, and includes information about how +to get involved with Project Gutenberg. You could also +download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here. This +is one of our major sites, please email hart@pobox.com, +for a more complete list of our various sites. + +To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any +Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror +sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed +at http://promo.net/pg). + +Mac users, do NOT point and click, typing works better. + +Example FTP session: + +ftp sunsite.unc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + +*** + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** + +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. + + + + + + +Peter Ruff and the Double Four + +by E. Phillips Oppenheim + + + + + +CONTENTS + +BOOK ONE + +CHAPTER + +I INTRODUCING MR. PETER RUFF + +II A NEW CAREER + +III VINCENT CAWDOR, COMMISSION AGENT + +IV THE INDISCRETION OF LETTY SHAW + +V DELILAH FROM STREATHAM + +VI THE LITTLE LADY FROM SERVIA + +VII THE DEMAND OF THE DOUBLE-FOUR + +VIII MRS. BOGNOR'S STAR BOARDER + +IX THE PERFIDY OF MISS BROWN + +X WONDERFUL JOHN DORY + + + + BOOK TWO + +I RECALLED BY THE DOUBLE-FOUR + +II PRINCE ALBERT'S CARD DEBTS + +III THE AMBASSADOR'S WIFE + +IV THE MAN FROM THE OLD TESTAMENT + +V THE FIRST SHOT + +VI THE SEVEN SUPPERS OF ANDREA KORUST + +VII MAJOR KOSUTH'S MISSION + +VIII THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN + +IX THE GHOSTS OF HAVANA HARBOR + +X THE AFFAIR OF AN ALIEN SOCIETY + +XI THE THIRTEENTH ENCOUNTER + + + + +CHAPTER I + +INTRODUCING MR. PETER RUFF + + +There was nothing about the supper party on that particular Sunday +evening in November at Daisy Villa, Green Street, Streatham, which +seemed to indicate in any way that one of the most interesting +careers connected with the world history of crime was to owe its +very existence to the disaster which befell that little gathering. +The villa was the residence and also - to his credit - the +unmortgaged property of Mr. David Barnes, a struggling but fairly +prosperous coal merchant of excellent character, some means, and +Methodist proclivities. His habit of sitting without his coat when +carving, although deprecated by his wife and daughter on account of +the genteel aspirations of the latter, was a not unusual one in the +neighbourhood; and coupled with the proximity of a cold joint of +beef, his seat at the head of the table, and a carving knife and +fork grasped in his hands, established clearly the fact of his +position in the household, which a somewhat weak physiognomy might +otherwise have led the casual observer to doubt. Opposite him, at +the other end of the table, sat his wife, Mrs. Barnes, a somewhat +voluminous lady with a high colour, a black satin frock, and many +ornaments. On her left the son of the house, eighteen years old, +of moderate stature, somewhat pimply, with the fashion of the moment +reflected in his pink tie with white spots, drawn through a gold +ring, and curving outwards to seek obscurity underneath a dazzling +waistcoat. A white tube-rose in his buttonhole might have been +intended as a sort of compliment to the occasion, or an indication +of his intention to take a walk after supper in the fashionable +purlieus of the neighbourhood. Facing him sat his sister - a +fluffy-haired, blue-eyed young lady, pretty in her way, but chiefly +noticeable for a peculiar sort of self-consciousness blended with +self-satisfaction, and possessed only at a certain period in their +lives by young ladies of her age. It was almost the air of the cat +in whose interior reposes the missing canary, except that in this +instance the canary obviously existed in the person of the young +man who sat at her side, introduced formally to the household for +the first time. That young man's name was - at the moment - Mr. +Spencer Fitzgerald. + +It seems idle to attempt any description of a person who, in the +past, had secured a certain amount of fame under a varying +personality; and who, in the future, was to become more than ever +notorious under a far less aristocratic pseudonym than that by +which he was at present known to the inhabitants of Daisy Villa. +There are photographs of him in New York and Paris, St. Petersburg +and Chicago, Vienna and Cape Town, but there are no two pictures +which present to the casual observer the slightest likeness to one +another. To allude to him by the name under which he had won some +part, at least, of the affections of Miss Maud Barnes, Mr. Spencer +Fitzgerald, as he sat there, a suitor on probation for her hand, was +a young man of modest and genteel appearance. He wore a blue serge +suit - a little underdressed for the occasion, perhaps; but his tie +and collar were neat; his gold-rimmed spectacles - if a little +disapproved of by Maud on account of the air of steadiness which +they imparted - suggested excellent son-in-lawlike qualities to Mr. +and Mrs. Barnes. He had the promise of a fair moustache, but his +complexion generally was colourless. His features, except for a +certain regularity, were undistinguished. His speech was modest +and correct. His manner varied with his company. To-night it had +been pronounced, by excellent judges - genteel. + +The conversation consisted - naturally enough, under the +circumstances - of a course of subtle and judicious pumping, +tactfully prompted, for the most part, by Mrs. Barnes. Such, for +instance, as the following: + +"Talking about Marie Corelli's new book reminds me, Mr. Fitzgerald + - your occupation is connected with books, is it not?" his +prospective mother-in-law enquired, artlessly. + +Mr. Fitzgerald bowed assent. + +"I am cashier at Howell & Wilson's in Cheapside," he said. "We +sell a great many books there - as many, I should think, as any +retail establishment in London." + +"Indeed!" Mrs. Barnes purred. "Very interesting work, I am sure. +So nice and intellectual, too; for, of course, you must be looking +inside them sometimes." + +"I know the place well," Mr. Adolphus Barnes, Junior, announced +condescendingly, - "pass it every day on my way to lunch." + +"So much nicer," Mrs. Barnes continued, "than any of the ordinary +businesses - grocery or drapery, or anything of that sort." + +Miss Maud elevated her eyebrows slightly. Was it likely that she +would have looked with eyes of favour upon a young man engaged in +any of these inferior occupations? + +"There's money in books, too," Mr. Barnes declared with sudden +inspiration. His prospective son-in-law turned towards him +deferentially. + +"You are right, sir," he admitted. "There is money in them. There's +money for those who write, and there's money for those who sell. My +occupation," he continued, with a modest little cough, "brings me +often into touch with publishers, travellers and clerks, so I am, as +it were, behind the scenes to some extent. I can assure you," he +continued, looking from Mr. Barnes to his wife, and finally +transfixing Mr. Adolphus - "I can assure you that the money paid by +some firms of publishers to a few well-known authors - I will mention +no names - as advances against royalties, is something stupendous!" + +"Ah!" Mr. Barnes murmured, solemnly shaking his head. + +"Marie Corelli, I expect, and that Hall Caine," remarked young +Adolphus. + +"Seems easy enough to write a book, too," Mrs. Barnes said. "Why, I +declare that some of those we get from the library - we subscribe to +a library, Mr. Fitzgerald - are just as simple and straightforward that +a child might have written them. No plot whatsoever, no murders or +mysteries or anything of that sort - just stories about people like +ourselves. I don't see how they can pay people for writing stories +about people just like those one meets every day!" + +"I always say," Maud intervened, "that Spencer means to write a book +some day. He has quite the literary air, hasn't he, mother?" + +"Indeed he has!" Mrs. Barnes declared, with an appreciative glance +at the gold-rimmed spectacles. + +Mr. Fitzgerald modestly disclaimed any literary aspirations. + +"The thing is a gift, after all," he declared, generously. "I can +keep accounts, and earn a fair salary at it, but if I attempted +fiction I should soon be up a tree." + +Mr. Barnes nodded his approval of such sentiments. + +"Every one to his trade, I say," he remarked. "What sort of +salaries do they pay now in the book trade?" he asked guilelessly. + +"Very fair," Mr. Fitzgerald admitted candidly, - "very fair indeed." + +"When I was your age," Mr. Barnes said reflectively, "I was getting + - let me see - forty-two shillings a week. Pretty good pay, too, +for those days." + +Mr. Fitzgerald admitted the fact. + +"Of course," he said apologetically, "salaries are a little higher +now all round. Mr. Howell has been very kind to me, - in fact I +have had two raises this year. I am getting four pounds ten now." + +"Four pounds ten per week?" Mrs. Barnes exclaimed, laying down her +knife and fork. + +"Certainly," Mr. Fitzgerald answered. "After Christmas, I have +some reason to believe that it may be five pounds." + +Mr. Barnes whistled softly, and looked at the young man with a new +respect. + +"I told you that - Mr. - that Spencer was doing pretty well, Mother," +Maud simpered, looking down at her plate. + +"Any one to support?" her father asked, transferring a pickle from +the fork to his mouth. + +"No one," Mr. Fitzgerald answered. "In fact, I may say that I have +some small expectations. I haven't done badly, either, out of the +few investments I have made from time to time." + +"Saved a bit of money, eh?" Mr. Barnes enquired genially. + +"I have a matter of four hundred pounds put by," Mr. Fitzgerald +admitted modestly, "besides a few sticks of furniture. I never +cared much about lodging-house things, so I furnished a couple of +rooms myself some time ago." + +Mrs. Barnes rose slowly to her feet. + +"You are quite sure you won't have a small piece more of beef?" she +enquired anxiously. + +"Just a morsel?" Mr. Barnes asked, tapping the joint insinuatingly +with his carving knife. + +"No, I thank you!" Mr. Fitzgerald declared firmly. "I have done +excellently." + +"Then if you will put the joint on the sideboard, Adolphus," Mrs. +Barnes directed, "Maud and I will change the plates. We always let +the girl go out on Sundays, Mr. Fitzgerald," she explained, turning +to their guest. "It's very awkward, of course, but they seem to +expect it." + +"Quite natural, I'm sure," Mr. Fitzgerald murmured, watching Maud's +light movements with admiring eyes. "I like to see ladies interested +in domestic work." + +"There's one thing I will say for Maud," her proud mother declared, +plumping down a dish of jelly upon the table, "she does know what's +what in keeping house, and even if she hasn't to scrape and save as +I did when David and I were first married, economy is a great thing +when you're young. I have always said so, and I stick to it." + +"Quite right, Mother," Mr. Barnes declared. + +"If instead of sitting there," Mrs. Barnes continued in high good +humour, "you were to get a bottle of that port wine out of the +cellarette, we might drink Mr. Fitzgerald's health, being as it's +his first visit." + +Mr. Barnes rose to his feet with alacrity. "For a woman with sound +ideas," he declared, "commend me to your mother!" + +Maud, having finished her duties, resumed her place by the side of +the guest of the evening. Their hands met under the tablecloth for +a moment. To the girl, the pleasure of such a proceeding was natural +enough, but Fitzgerald asked himself for the fiftieth time why on +earth he, who, notwithstanding his present modest exterior, was a +young man of some experience, should from such primitive love-making +derive a rapture which nothing else in life afforded him. He was, +at that moment, content with his future, - a future which he had +absolutely and finally decided upon. He was content with his +father-in-law and his mother-in-law, with Daisy Villa, and the +prospect of a Daisy Villa for himself, - content, even, with Adolphus! +But for Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald, these things were not to be! The +awakening was even then at hand. + +The dining room of Daisy Villa fronted the street, and was removed +from it only a few feet. Consequently, the footsteps of passers-by +upon the flagged pavement were clearly distinguishable. It was just +at the moment when Mrs. Barnes was inserting a few fresh almonds +into a somewhat precarious tipsy cake, and Mr. Barnes was engaged +with the decanting of the port, that two pairs of footsteps, +considerably heavier than those of the ordinary promenader, paused +outside and finally stopped. The gate creaked. Mr. Barnes looked up. + +"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "What's that? Visitors?" + +They all listened. The front-door bell rang. Adolphus, in response +to a gesture from his mother, rose sulkily to his feet. + +"Job I hate!" he muttered as he left the room. + +The rest of the family, full of the small curiosity of people of +their class, were intent upon listening for voices outside. The +demeanour of Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald, therefore, escaped their notice. +It is doubtful, in any case, whether their perceptions would have +been sufficiently keen to have enabled them to trace the workings of +emotion in the countenance of a person so magnificently endowed by +Providence with the art of subterfuge. Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald seemed +simply to have stiffened in acute and earnest attention. It was only +for a moment that he hesitated. His unfailing inspiration told him +the truth! + +His course of action was simple, - he rose to his feet and strolled +to the window. + +"Some people who have lost their way in the fog, perhaps," he remarked. +"What a night!" + +He laid his hand upon the sash - simultaneously there was a rush of +cold air into the room, a half-angry, half-frightened exclamation +from Adolphus in the passage, a scream from Miss Maud - and no Mr. +Spencer Fitzgerald! No one had time to be more than blankly +astonished. The door was opened, and a police inspector, in very +nice dark braided uniform and a peaked cap, stood in the doorway. + +Mr. Barnes dropped the port, and Mrs. Barnes, emulating her daughter's +example, screamed. The inspector, as though conscious of the draught, +moved rapidly toward the window. + +"You had a visitor here, Mr. Barnes," he said quickly - "a Mr. +Spencer Fitzgerald. Where is he?" + +There was no one who could answer! Mr. Barnes was speechless between +the shock of the spilt port and the appearance of a couple of +uniformed policemen in his dining room. John Dory, the detective, +he knew well enough in his private capacity, but in his uniform, +and attended by policemen, he presented a new and startling +appearance! Mrs. Barnes was in hysterics, and Maud was gazing like +a creature turned to stone at the open window, through which little +puffs of fog were already drifting into the room. Adolphus, with +an air of bewilderment, was standing with his mouth and eyes wider +open than they had ever been in his life. And as for the honoured +guest of these admirable inhabitants of Daisy Villa, there was not +the slightest doubt but that Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald had disappeared +through the window! + + +Fitzgerald's expedition was nearly at an end. Soon he paused, +crossed the road to a block of flats, ascended to the eighth floor +by an automatic lift, and rang the bell at a door which bore simply +the number II. A trim parlourmaid opened it after a few minutes' +delay. + +"Is Miss Emerson at home?" he asked. + +"Miss Emerson is in," the maid admitted, with some hesitation, "but +I am not sure that she will see any one to-night." + +"I have a message for her," Fitzgerald said. + +"Will you give me your name, sir, please?" the maid asked. + +An inner door was suddenly opened. A slim girl, looking taller than +she really was by reason of the rug upon which she stood, looked out +into the hall - a girl with masses of brown hair loosely coiled on +her head, with pale face and strange eyes. She opened her lips as +though to call to her visitor by name, and as suddenly closed them +again. There was not much expression in her face, but there was +enough to show that his visit was not unwelcome. + +"You!" she exclaimed. "Come in! Please come in at once!" + +Fitzgerald obeyed the invitation of the girl whom he had come to +visit. She had retreated a little into the room, but the door was +no sooner closed than she held out her hands. + +"Peter!" she exclaimed. "Peter, you have come to me at last!" + +Her lips were a little parted; her eyes were bright with pleasure; +her whole expression was one of absolute delight. Fitzgerald +frowned, as though he found her welcome a little too enthusiastic +for his taste. + +"Violet," he said, "please don't look at me as though I were a +prodigal sheep. If you do, I shall be sorry that I came." + +Her hands fell to her side, the pleasure died out of her face - only +her eyes still questioned him. Fitzgerald carefully laid his hat +on a vacant chair. + +"Something has happened?" she said. "Tell me that all that madness +is over - that you are yourself again!" + +"So far as regards my engagement with Messrs. Howell & Wilson," he +said, despondently, "you are right. As regards - Miss Barnes, there +has been no direct misunderstanding between us, but I am afraid, for +the present, that I must consider that - well, in abeyance." + +"That is something!" she exclaimed, drawing a little breath of relief. +"Sit down, Peter. Will you have something to eat? I finished dinner +an hour ago, but - " + +"Thank you," Fitzgerald interrupted, "I supped - extremely well in +Streatham!" + +"In Streatham!" she repeated. "Why, how did you get there? The fog +is awful." + +"Fogs do not trouble me," Fitzgerald answered. "I walked. I could +have done it as well blindfold. I will take a whisky and soda, if +I may." + +She led him to an easy-chair. + +"I will mix it myself," she said. + +Without being remarkably good-looking, she was certainly a pleasant +and attractive-looking young woman. Her cheeks were a little pale; +her hair - perfectly natural - was a wonderful deep shade of soft +brown. Her eyes were long and narrow - almost Oriental in shape + - and they seemed in some queer way to match the room; he could +have sworn that in the firelight they flashed green. Her body and +limbs, notwithstanding her extreme slightness, were graceful, perhaps, +but with the grace of the tigress. She wore a green silk dressing +jacket, pulled together with a belt of lizard skin, and her neck was +bare. Her skirt was of some thin black material. She was obviously +in deshabille, and yet there was something neat and trim about the +smaller details of her toilette. + +"Go on, please, Peter," she begged. "You are keeping me in suspense." + +"There isn't much to tell," he answered. "It's over - that's all." + +She drew a sharp breath through her teeth. + +"You are not going to marry that girl - that bourgeois doll in +Streatham?" + +Fitzgerald sat up in his chair. + +"Look here," he said, seriously, "don't you call her names. If I'm +not going to marry her, it isn't my fault. She is the only girl I +have ever wanted, and probably - most probably - she will be the only +one I ever shall want. That's honest, isn't it?" + +The girl winced. + +"Yes," she said, "it is honest!" + +"I should have married her," the young man continued, "and I should +have been happy. I had my eye on a villa - not too near her parents + - and I saw my way to a little increase of salary. I should have +taken to gardening, to walks in the Park, with an occasional theatre, +and I should have thoroughly enjoyed a fortnight every summer at +Skegness or Sutton-on-Sea. We should have saved a little money. I +should have gone to church regularly, and if possible I should have +filled some minor public offices. You may call this bourgeois - it +was my idea of happiness." + +"Was!" she murmured. + +"Is still," he declared, sharply, "but I shall never attain to it. +To-night I had to leave Maud - to leave the supper table of Daisy +Villa - through the window!" + +She looked at him in amazement. + +"The police," he explained. "That brute Dory was at the bottom +of it." + +"But surely," she murmured, "you told me that you had a bona-fide +situation - " + +"So I had," he declared, "and I was a fool not to be content with +it. It was my habit of taking long country walks, and their rotten +auditing, which undid me! You understand that this was all before +I met Maud? Since the day I spoke to her, I turned over a new leaf. +I have left the night work alone, and I repaid every penny of the +firm's money which they could ever have possibly found out about. +There was only that one little affair of mine down at Sudbury." + +"Tell me what you are going to do?" she whispered. + +"I have no alternative," he answered. "The law has kicked me out +from the respectable places. The law shall pay!" + +She looked at him with glowing eyes. + +"Have you any plans?" she asked, softly. + +"I have," he answered. "I have considered the subject from a good +many points of view, and I have decided to start in business for +myself as a private detective." + +She raised her eyebrows. + +"My dear Peter!" she murmured. "Couldn't you be a little more +original?" + +"That is only what I am going to call myself," he answered. "I +may tell you that I am going to strike out on somewhat new lines." + +"Please explain," she begged. + +He recrossed his knees and made himself a little more comfortable. + +"The weak part of every great robbery, however successful," he began, +"is the great wastage in value which invariably results. For jewels +which cost - say five thousand pounds, and to procure which the +artist has to risk his life as well as his liberty, he has to +consider himself lucky if he clears eight hundred. For the Hermitage +rubies, for instance, where I nearly had to shoot a man dead, I +realized rather less than four hundred pounds. It doesn't pay." + +"Go on," she begged. + +"I am not clear," he continued, "how far this class of business will +attract me at all, but I do not propose, in any case, to enter into +any transactions on my own account. I shall work for other people, +and for cash down. Your experience of life, Violet, has been fairly +large. Have you not sometimes come into contact with people driven +into a situation from which they would willingly commit any crime to +escape if they dared? It is not with them a question of money at +all - it is simply a matter of ignorance. They do not know how to +commit a crime. They have had no experience, and if they attempt it, +they know perfectly well that they are likely to blunder. A person +thoroughly experienced in the ways of criminals - a person of genius +like myself - would have, without a doubt, an immense clientele, if +only he dared put up his signboard. Literally, I cannot do that. +Actually, I mean to do so! I shall be willing to accept contracts +either to help nervous people out of an undesirable crisis; or, on +the other hand, to measure my wits against the wits of Scotland Yard, +and to discover the criminals whom they have failed to secure. I +shall make my own bargains, and I shall be paid in cash. I shall +take on nothing that I am not certain about." + +"But your clients?" she asked, curiously. "How will you come into +contact with them?" + +He smiled. + +"I am not afraid of business being slack," he said. "The world is +full of fools." + +"You cannot live outside the law, Peter," she objected. "You are +clever, I know, but they are not all fools at Scotland Yard." + +"You forget," he reminded her, "that there will be a perfectly +legitimate side to my profession. The other sort of case I shall +only accept if I can see my way clear to make a success of it. +Needless to say, I shall have to refuse the majority that are +offered to me." + +She came a little nearer to him. + +"In any case," she said, with a little sigh, "you have given up that +foolish, bourgeois life of yours?" + +He looked down into her face, and his eyes were cold. + +"Violet," he said, "this is no time for misunderstandings. I should +like you to know that apart from one young lady, who possesses my +whole affection - " + +"All of it?" she pleaded. + +"All!" he declared emphatically. "She will doubtless be faithless +to me - under the circumstances, I cannot blame her - but so far as +I am concerned, I have no affection whatever for any one else." + +She crept back to her place. + +"I could be so useful to you," she murmured. + +"You could and you shall, if you will be sensible," he answered. + +"Tell me how?" she begged. + +He was silent for a moment. + +"Are you acting now?" he asked. + +"I am understudying Molly," she answered, "and I have a very small +part at the Globe." + +He nodded. + +"There is no reason to interfere with that," he said, "in fact, I +wish you to continue your connection with the profession. It brings +you into touch with the class of people among whom I am likely to +find clients." + +"Go on, please," she begged. + +"On two conditions - or rather one," he said, "you can, if you like, +become my secretary and partner - and find the money we shall +require to make a start." + +"Conditions?" she asked. + +"You must understand, once and for all," he said, "that I will not +be made love to, and that I can treat you only as a working; +companion. My name will be Peter Ruff, and yours Miss Brown. You +will have to dress like a secretary, and behave like one. Sometimes +there will be plenty of work for you, and sometimes there will be +none at all. Sometimes you will be bored to death, and sometimes +there will be excitement. I do not wish to make you vain, but I may +add, especially as you are aware of my personal feelings toward you, +that you are the only person in the world to whom I would make this +offer." + +She sighed gently. + +"Tell me, Peter," she asked, "when do you mean to start this new +enterprise?" + +"Not for six months - perhaps a year," he answered. "I must go to +Paris - perhaps Vienna. I might even have to go to New York. There +are certain associations with which I must come into touch - certain +information I must become possessed of." + +"Peter," she said, "I like your scheme, but there is just one thing. +Such men as you should be the brains of great enterprises. Don't +you understand what I mean? It shouldn't be you who does the actual +thing which brings you within the power of the law. I am not +over-scrupulous, you know. I hate wrongdoing, but I have never been +able to treat as equal criminals the poor man who steals for a +living, and the rich financier who robs right and left out of sheer +greed. I agree with you that crime is not an absolute thing. The +circumstances connected with every action in life determine its +morality or immorality. But, Peter, it isn't worth while to go +outside the law!" + +He nodded. + +"You are a sensible girl," he said, "I have always thought that. +We'll talk over my cases together, if they seem to run a little +too close to the line." + +"Very well, Peter," she said, "I accept." + + + +CHAPTER II + +A NEW CAREER + + +About twelve months after the interrupted festivities at Daisy Villa, +that particular neighbourhood was again the scene of some rejoicing. +Standing before the residence of Mr. Barnes were three carriages, +drawn in each case by a pair of grey horses. The coachmen and their +steeds were similarly adorned with white rosettes. It would have +been an insult to the intelligence of the most youthful of the +loungers-by to have informed them that a wedding was projected. + +At the neighbouring church all was ready. The clerk stood at the +door, the red drugget was down, the usual little crowd were standing +all agog upon the pavement. There was one unusual feature of the +proceedings: Instead of a solitary policeman, there were at least +a dozen who kept clear the entrance to the church. Their presence +greatly puzzled a little old gentleman who had joined the throng +of sightseers. He pushed himself to the front and touched one of +them upon the shoulder. + +"Mr. Policeman," he said, "will you tell me why there are so many +of you to keep such a small crowd in order?" + +"Bridegroom's a member of the force, sir, for one reason," the man +answered good-humouredly. + +"And the other?" the old gentleman persisted. + +The policeman behaved as though he had not heard - a proceeding +which his natural stolidity rendered easy. The little old gentleman, +however, was not so easily put off. He tapped the man once more +upon the shoulder. + +"And the other reason, Mr. Policeman?" he asked insinuatingly. + +"Not allowed to talk about that, sir," was the somewhat gruff +reply. + +The little old gentleman moved away, a trifle hurt. He was a +very nicely dressed old gentleman indeed, and everything about +him seemed to savour of prosperity. But he was certainly +garrulous. An obviously invited guest was standing upon the +edge of the pavement stroking a pair of lavender kid gloves. +The little old gentleman sidled up to him. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, raising his hat. "I am just +back from Australia - haven't seen a wedding in England for +fifty years. Do you think that they would let me into the church?" + +The invited guest looked down at his questioner and approved of him. +Furthermore, he seemed exceedingly glad to be interrupted in his +somewhat nervous task of waiting for the wedding party. + +"Certainly, sir," he replied cheerfully. "Come along in with me, +and I'll find you a seat." + +Down the scarlet drugget they went - the big best man with the red +hands and the lavender kid gloves and the opulent-looking old +gentleman with the gold-rimmed spectacles and the handsome walking +stick. + +"Dear me, this is very interesting!" the latter remarked. "Is it +the custom, sir, always, may I ask, in this country, to have so +many policemen at a wedding?" + +The big man looked downward and shook his head. + +"Special reason," he said mysteriously. "Fact is, young lady +was engaged once to a very bad character - a burglar whom the +police have been wanting for years. He had to leave the country, +but he has written her once or twice since in a mysterious sort +of way - wanted her to be true to him, and all that sort of thing. +Dory - that's the bridegroom - has got a sort of an idea that he +may turn up to-day." + +"This is very exciting - very!" the little old gentleman +remarked. "Reminds me of our younger days out in Australia." + +"You sit down here," the best man directed, ushering his companion +into an empty pew. "I must get back again outside, or I shall have +the bridegroom arriving." + +"Good-day to you, sir, and many thanks!" the little old gentleman +said politely. + +Soon the bridegroom arrived - a smart young officer, well thought +of at Scotland Yard, well set up, wearing a long tail coat a lilac +and white tie, and shaking in every limb. He walked up the aisle +accompanied by the best man, and the little old gentleman from +Australia watched him genially from behind those gold-rimmed +glasses. And, then, scarcely was he at the altar rails when +through the open church door one heard the sounds of horses' feet, +one heard a rustle, the murmur of voices, caught a glimpse of a +waiting group arranging themselves finally in the porch of the +church. Maud, on the arm of her father, came slowly up the aisle. +The little old gentleman turned his head as though this was +something upon which he feared to look. He saw nothing of Mr. +Barnes, in a new coat, with tuberose and spray of maidenhair in +his coat, and exceedingly tight patent leather boots on his feet; +he saw nothing of Mrs. Barnes, clad in a gown of the lightest +magenta, with a bonnet smothered with violets. + +It was in the vestry that the only untoward incident of that highly +successful wedding took place. The ceremony was over! Bride, +bridegroom and parents trooped in. And when the register was +opened, one witness had already signed! In the clear, precise +writing his name stood out upon the virgin page - + +Spencer Fitzgerald + + +The bridegroom swore, the bride nearly collapsed. The clerk pressed +into the hands of the latter an envelope. + +"From the little old gentleman," he announced, "who was fussing +round the church this morning." + +Mrs. Dory tore it open and gave a cry of delight. A diamond cross, +worth all the rest of her presents put together, flashed soft +lights from a background of dull velvet. Her husband had looked +over her shoulder, and with a scowl seized the morocco case and +threw it far from him. + +It was the only disturbing incident of a highly successful +function! + +At precisely the same moment when the wedding guests were seated +around the hospitable board of Daisy Villa, a celebration of a +somewhat different nature was taking place in the more aristocratic +neighbourhood of Curzon Street. Here, however, the little party +was a much smaller one, and the innocent gaiety of the gathering at +Daisy Villa was entirely lacking. The luncheon table around which +the four men were seated presented all the unlovely signs of a meal +where self-restraint had been abandoned - where conviviality has +passed the bounds of licence. Edibles were represented only by a +single dish of fruit; the tablecloth, stained with wine and cigar +ash, seemed crowded with every sort of bottle and every sort of +glass. A magnum of champagne, empty, another half full, stood in +the middle of the table; whisky, brandy, liqueurs of various sorts +were all represented; glasses - some full, some empty, some filled +with cigar ash and cigarette stumps - an ugly sight! + +The guest in chief arose. Short, thick-set, red-faced, with bulbous +eyes, and veins about his temples which just now were unpleasantly +prominent, he seemed, indeed, a very fitting person to have been the +recipient of such hospitality. He stood clutching a little at the +tablecloth and swaying upon his feet. He spoke as a drunken man, +but such words as he pronounced clearly showed him to be possessed +of a voice naturally thick and raspy. It was obvious that he was a +person of entirely different class from his three companions. + +"G - gentlemen," he said, "I must be off. I thank you very much for +this - hospitality. Honoured, I'm sure, to have sat down in such + - such company. Good afternoon, all!" + +He lurched a little toward the door, but his neighbour at the table + - who was also his host - caught hold of his coat tail and pulled +him back into his chair. + +"No hurry, Masters," he said. "One more liqueur, eh? It's a raw +afternoon." + +"N - not another drop, Sir Richard!" the man declared. "Not another +drop to drink. I am very much obliged to you all, but I must be off. +Must be off," he repeated, making another effort to rise. + +His host held him by the arm. The man resented it - he showed +signs of anger. + +"D - n it all! I - I'm not a prisoner, am I?" he exclaimed angrily. +"Tell you I've got - appointment - club. Can't you see it's past +five o'clock?" + +"That's all right, Masters," the man whom he had addressed as Sir +Richard declared soothingly. "We want just a word with you on +business first, before you go - Colonel Dickinson, Lord Merries +and myself." + +Masters shook his head. + +"See you to-morrow," he declared. "No time to talk business now. +Let me go!" + +He made another attempt to rise, which his host also prevented. + +"Masters, don't be a fool!" the latter said firmly. "You've got to +hear what we want to say to you. Sit down and listen." + +Masters relapsed sullenly into his chair. His little eyes seemed +to creep closer to one another. So they wanted to talk business! +Perhaps it was for that reason that they had bidden him sit at their +table - had entertained him so well! The very thought cleared his +brain. + +"Go on," he said shortly. + +Sir Richard lit a cigarette and leaned further back in his chair. +He was a man apparently about fifty years of age - tall, well dressed, +with good features, save for his mouth, which resembled more than +anything a rat trap. He was perfectly bald, and he had the air of +a man who was a careful liver. His eyes were bright, almost beadlike; +his fingers long and a trifle over-manicured. One would have judged +him to be what he was - a man of fashion and a patron of the turf. + +"Masters," he said, "we are all old friends here. We want to speak +to you plainly. We three have had a try, as you know - Merries, +Dickinson and myself - to make the coup of our lives. We failed, +and we're up against it hard." + +"Very hard, indeed," Lord Merries murmured softly. + +"Deuced hard!" Colonel Dickinson echoed. + +Masters was sitting tight, breathing a little hard, looking fixedly +at his host. + +"Take my own case first," the latter continued. "I am Sir Richard +Dyson, ninth baronet, with estates in Wiltshire and Scotland, and a +town house in Cleveland Place. I belong to the proper clubs for a +man in my position, and, somehow or other - we won't say how - I +have managed to pay my way. There isn't an acre of my property that +isn't mortgaged for more than its value. My town house - well, it +doesn't belong to me at all! I have twenty-six thousand pounds to +pay you on Monday. To save my life, I could not raise twenty-six +thousand farthings! So much for me." + +The man Masters ground his teeth. + +"So much for you!" he muttered. + +"Take the case next," Sir Richard continued, "of my friend Merries +here. Merries is an Earl, it is true, but he never had a penny to +bless himself with. He's tried acting, reporting, marrying - +anything to make an honest living. So far, I am afraid we must +consider Lord Merries as something of a failure, eh?" + +"A rotten failure, I should say," that young nobleman declared +gloomily. + +"Lord Merries is, to put it briefly, financially unsound," Sir +Richard declared. + +"What is the amount of your debt to Mr. Masters, Jim?" + +"Eleven thousand two hundred pounds," Lord Merries answered. + +"And we may take it, I presume, for granted that you have not that +sum, nor anything like it, at your disposal?" Sir Richard asked. + +"Not a fiver!" Lord Merries declared with emphasis. + +"We come now, Mr. Masters, to our friend Colonel Dickinson," Sir +Richard continued. "Colonel Dickinson is, perhaps, in a more +favourable situation than any of us. He has a small but regular +income, and he has expectations which it is not possible to mortgage +fully. At the same time, it will be many years before they can - er + - fructify. He is, therefore, with us in this somewhat unpleasant +predicament in which we find ourselves." + +"Cut it short," Masters growled. "I'm sick of so much talk. What's +it all mean?" + +"It means simply this, Mr. Masters," Sir Richard said, "we want you +to take six months' bills for our indebtedness to you." + +Masters rose to his feet. His thick lips were drawn a little apart. +He had the appearance of a savage and discontented animal. + +"So that's why I've been asked here and fed up with wine and stuff, +eh?" he exclaimed thickly. "Well, my answer to you is soon given. +NO! I'll take bills from no man! My terms are cash on settling +day - cash to pay or cash to receive. I'll have no other!" + +Sir Richard rose also to his feet. + +"Mr. Masters, I beg of you to be reasonable," he said. "You will do +yourself no good by adopting this attitude. Facts are facts. We +haven't got a thousand pounds between us." + +"I've heard that sort of a tale before," Masters answered, with a +sneer. "Job Masters is too old a bird to be caught by such chaff. +I'll take my risks, gentlemen. I'll take my risks." + +He moved toward the door. No one spoke a word. The silence as he +crossed the room seemed a little ominous. He looked over his +shoulder. They were all three standing in their places, looking at +him. A vague sense of uneasiness disturbed his equanimity. + +"No offence, gents," he said, "and good afternoon!" + +Still no reply. He reached the door and turned the handle. The door +was fast. He shook it - gently at first, and then violently. +Suddenly he realized that it was locked. He turned sharply around. + +"What game's this?" he exclaimed, fiercely. "Let me out!" + +They stood in their places without movement. There was something a +little ominous in their silence. Masters was fast becoming a sober +man. + +"Let me out of here," he exclaimed, "or I'll break the door down!" + +Sir Richard Dyson came slowly towards him. There was something in +his appearance which terrified Masters. He raised his fist to +strike the door. He was a fighting man, but he felt a sudden sense +of impotence. + +"Mr. Masters," Sir Richard said suavely, "the truth is that we +cannot afford to let you go - unless you agree to do what we have +asked. You see we really have not the money or any way of raising +it - and the inconvenience of being posted you have yourself very +ably pointed out. Change your mind, Mr. Masters. Take those +bills. We'll do our best to meet them." + +"I'll do nothing of the sort," Masters answered, striking the door +fiercely with his clenched fist. "I'll have cash - nothing but +the cash!" + +There was a dull, sickening thud, and the bookmaker went over like +a shot rabbit. His legs twitched for a moment - a little moan that +was scarcely audible broke from his lips. Then he lay quite still. +Sir Richard bent over him with the life preserver still in his hand. + +"I've done it!" he muttered, hoarsely. "One blow! Thank Heaven, he +didn't want another! His skull was as soft as pudding! Ugh!" + +He turned away. The man who lay stretched upon the floor was an +ugly sight. His two companions, cowering over the table, were not +much better. Dyson's trembling fingers went out for the brandy +decanter. Half of what he poured out was spilled upon the +tablecloth. The rest he drank from a tumbler, neat. + +"It's nervous work, this, you fellows," he said, hoarsely. + +"It's hellish!" Dickinson answered. "Let's have some air in the +room. By God, it's close!" + +He sank back into his chair, white to the lips. Dyson looked at +him sharply. + +"Look here," he exclaimed, "I hold you both to our bargain! I +was to be the one he attacked and who struck the blow - in +self-defence! Remember that - it was in self-defence! I've done +it! I've done my share! I hope to God I'll forget it some day. +Andrew, you know your task. Be a man, and get to work!" + +Dickinson rose to his feet unsteadily. "Yes!" he said. "What was +it? I have forgotten, for the moment, but I am ready." + +"You must get his betting book from his pocket," Sir Richard +directed. "Then you must help Merries downstairs with him, and +into the car. Merries is - to get rid of him." + +Merries shivered. His hand, too, went out for the brandy. + +"To get rid of him," he muttered. "It sounds easy!" + +"It is easy," Sir Richard declared. "You have only to keep your +nerve, and the thing is done. No one will see him inside the +car, in that motoring coat and glasses. You can drive somewhere +out into the country and leave him." + +"Leave him!" Merries repeated, trembling. "Leave him - yes!" + +Neither of the two men moved. + +"I must do more than my share, I suppose," Sir Richard declared +contemptuously. "Come!" + +They dragged the man's body on to a chair, wrapped a huge coat +around him, tied a motoring cap under his chin, fixed goggles over +his eyes. Sir Richard strolled into the hall and opened the front +door. He stood there for a moment, looking up and down the street. +When he gave the signal they dragged him out, supported between them, +across the pavement, into the car. Ugh! His attitude was so natural +as to be absolutely ghastly. Merries started the car and sprang +into the driver's seat. There were people in the Square now, but +the figure reclining in the dark, cushioned interior looked perfectly +natural. + +"So long, Jimmy," Sir Richard called out. "See you this evening." + +"Right O!" Merries replied, with a brave effort. + + +Peter Ruff, summoned by telephone from his sitting room, slipped +down the stairs like a cat - noiseless, swift. The voice which had +summoned him had been the voice of his secretary - a voice almost +unrecognisable - a voice shaken with fear. Fear? No, it had been +terror! + +On the landing below, exactly underneath the room from which he had +descended, there was a door upon which his name was written upon a +small brass plate - Mr. Peter Ruff. He opened and closed it behind +him with a swift movement which he had practised in his idle moments. +He found himself looking in upon a curious scene. + +Miss Brown, with the radiance of her hair effectually concealed, in +plain black skirt and simple blouse - the ideal secretary - had +risen from the seat in front of her typewriter, and was standing +facing the door through which he had entered, with a small revolver + - which he had given her for a birthday present only the day before + - clasped in her outstretched hand. The object of her solicitude +was, it seemed to Peter Ruff, the most pitiful-looking object upon +which he had ever looked. The hours had dwelt with Merries as the +years with some people, and worse. He had lost his cap; his hair +hung over his forehead in wild confusion; his eyes were red, +bloodshot, and absolutely aflame with the terrors through which he +had lived - underneath them the black marks might have been traced +with a charcoal pencil. His cheeks were livid save for one burning +spot. His clothes, too, were in disorder - the starch had gone from +his collar, his tie hung loosely outside his waistcoat. He was +cowering back against the wall. And between him and the girl, +stretched upon the floor, was the body of a man in a huge motor coat, +a limp, inert mass which neither moved nor seemed to have any sign +of life. No wonder that Peter Ruff looked around his office, whose +serenity had been so tragically disturbed, with an air of mild +surprise. + +"Dear me," he exclaimed, "something seems to have happened! My +dear Violet, you can put that revolver away. I have secured the +door." + +Her hand fell to her side. She gave a little shiver of relief. +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"That is more comfortable," he declared. "Now, perhaps, you will +explain - " + +"That young man," she interrupted, "or lunatic - whatever he calls +himself - burst in here a few minutes ago, dragging - that!" She +pointed to the motionless figure upon the floor. "If I had not +stopped him, he would have bolted off without a word of explanation." + +Peter Ruff, with his back against the door, shook his head gravely. + +"My dear Lord Merries," he said, "my office is not a mortuary." + +Merries gasped. + +"You know me, then?" he muttered, hoarsely. + +"Of course," Ruff answered. "It is my profession to know everybody. +Go and sit down upon that easy-chair, and drink the brandy and soda +which Miss Brown is about to mix for you. That's right." + +Merries staggered across the room and half fell into an easy-chair. +He leaned over the side with his face buried in his hands, unable +still to face the horror which lay upon the floor. A few seconds +later, the tumbler of brandy and soda was in his hands. He drank +it like a man who drains fresh life into his veins. + +"Perhaps now," Peter Ruff suggested, pointing to the motionless +figure, "you can give me some explanation as to this!" + +Merries looked away from him all the time he was speaking. His +voice was thick and nervous. + +"There were three of us lunching together," he began - "four in all. +There was a dispute, and this man threatened us. Afterwards there +was a fight. It fell to my lot to take him away, and I can't get +rid of him! I can't get rid of him!" he repeated, with something +that sounded like a sob. + +"I still do not see," Peter Ruff argued, "why you should have brought +him here and deposited him upon my perfectly new carpet." + +"You are Peter Ruff," Merries declared. "'Crime Investigator and +Private Detective,' you call yourself. You are used to this sort of +thing. You will know what to do with it. It is part of your +business." + +"I can assure you," Peter Ruff answered, "that you are under a +delusion as to the details of my profession. I am Peter Ruff," he +admitted, "and I call myself a crime investigator - in fact, I am +the only one worth speaking of in the world. But I certainly deny +that I am used to having dead bodies deposited upon my carpet, and +that I make a habit of disposing of them - especially gratis." + +Merries tore open his coat. + +"Listen," he said, his voice shaking hysterically, "I must get rid +of it or go mad. For two hours I have been driving about in a motor +car with - it for a passenger. I drove to a quiet spot and I tried +to lift it out - a policeman rode up! I tried again, a man rushed +by on a motor cycle, and turned to look at me! I tried a few minutes +later - the policeman came back! It was always the same. The night +seemed to have eyes. I was watched everywhere. The - the face +began to mock me. I'll swear that I heard it chuckle once!" + +Peter Ruff moved a little further away. + +"I don't think I'll have anything to do with it," he declared. "I +don't like your description at all." + +"It'll be all right with you," Merries declared eagerly. "It's my +nerves, that's all. You see, I was there - when the accident +happened. See here," he added, tearing a pocketbook from his coat, +"I have three hundred and seventy pounds saved up in case I had to +bolt. I'll keep seventy - three hundred for you - to dispose of it!" + +Ruff leaned over the motionless body, looked into its face, and +nodded. + +"Masters, the bookmaker," he remarked. "H'm! I did hear that he +had a lot of money coming to him over the Cambridgeshire." + +Merries shuddered. + +"May I go?" he pleaded. "There's the three hundred on the table. +For God's sake, let me go!" + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"I wish you'd saved a little more," he said. "However - " + +He turned the lock and Merries rushed out of the room. Ruff looked +across the room towards his secretary. + +"Ring up 1535 Central," he ordered, sharply. + + + +Peter Ruff had descended from his apartments on the top floor of +the building, in a new brown suit with which he was violently +displeased, to meet a caller. + +"I am sorry to intrude - Mr. Ruff, I believe it is?" Sir Richard +Dyson said, a little irritably - "but I have not a great deal of +time to spare - " + +"Most natural!" Peter Ruff declared. "Pray take a chair, Sir +Richard. You want to know, of course, about Lord Merries and poor +Masters." + +Sir Richard stared at his questioner, for a moment, without speech. +Once more the fear which he had succeeded in banishing for a while, +shone in his eyes - revealed itself in his white face. + +"Try the easy-chair, Sir Richard," Ruff continued, pleasantly. +"Leave your hat and cane on the table there, and make yourself +comfortable. I should like to understand exactly what you have +come to me for." + +Sir Richard moved his head toward Miss Brown. + +"My business with you," he said, "is more than ordinarily private. +I have the honour of knowing Miss - " + +"Miss Brown," Peter interrupted quickly. "In these offices, this +young lady's name is Miss Violet Brown." + +Sir Richard shrugged his shoulders. + +"It is of no importance," he said, "only, as you may understand, +my business with you scarcely requires the presence of a third +party, even one with the discretion which I am sure Miss - Brown +possesses." + +"In these matters," Ruff answered, "my secretary does not exist +apart from myself. Her presence is necessary. She takes down in +shorthand notes of our conversation. I have a shocking memory, +and there are always points which I forget. At the conclusion of +our business, whatever it may be, these notes are destroyed. I +could not work without them, however." + +Sir Richard glanced a little doubtfully at the long, slim back of +the girl who sat with her face turned away from him. "Of course," +he began, "if you make yourself personally responsible for her +discretion - " + +"I am willing to do so," Ruff interrupted, brusquely. "I guarantee +it. Go on, please." + +"I do not know, of course, where you got your information from," +Sir Richard began, "but it is perfectly true that I have come here +to consult you upon a matter in which the two people whose names +you have mentioned are concerned. The disappearance of Job Masters +is, of course, common talk; but I cannot tell what has led you to +associate with it the temporary absence of Lord Merries from this +country." + +"Let me ask you this question," Ruff said. "How are you affected +by the disappearance of Masters?" + +"Indirectly, it has caused me a great deal of inconvenience," Sir +Richard declared. + +"Facts, please," murmured Peter. + +"It has been rumoured," Sir Richard admitted, "that I owed Masters +a large sum of money which I could not pay." + +"Anything else?" + +"It has also been rumoured," Sir Richard continued, "that he was +seen to enter my house that day, and that he remained there until +late in the afternoon." + +"Did he?" asked Ruff. + +"Certainly not," Sir Richard answered. + +Peter Ruff yawned for a moment, but covered the indiscretion with +his hand. + +"Respecting this inconvenience," he said, "which you admit that the +disappearance of Job Masters has caused you, what is its tangible +side?" + +Sir Richard drew his chair a little nearer to the table where Ruff +was sitting. His voice dropped almost to a whisper. + +"It seems absurd," he said, "and yet, what I tell you is the truth. +I have been followed about - shadowed, in fact - for several days. +Men, even in my own social circle, seem to hold aloof from me. It +is as though," he continued slowly, "people were beginning to suspect +me of being connected in some way with the man's disappearance." + +Ruff, who had been making figures with a pencil on the edge of his +blotting paper, suddenly turned round. His eyes flashed with a new +light as they became fixed upon his companion's. + +"And are you not?" he asked, calmly. Sir Richard bore himself well. +For a moment he had shrunk back. Then he half rose to his feet. + +"Mr. Ruff!" he said. "I must protest - " + +"Stop!" + +Peter Ruff used no violent gesture. Only his forefinger tapped the +desk in front of him. His voice was as smooth as velvet. + +"Tell me as much or as little as you please, Sir Richard," he said, +"but let that little or that much be the truth! On those terms only +I may be able to help you. You do not go to your physician and +expect him to prescribe to you while you conceal your symptoms, or +to your lawyer for advice and tell him half the truth. I am not +asking for your confidence. I simply tell you that you are wasting +your time and mine if you choose to withhold it." + +Sir Richard was silent. He recognized a new quality in the man - +but the truth was an awful thing to tell! He considered - then told. + +Ruff briskly asked two questions. "In alluding to your heavy +settlement with Masters, you said just now that you could not have +paid him - then." + +"Quite so," Sir Richard admitted. "That is the rotten part of the +whole affair. Four days later a wonderful double came off - one in +which we were all interested, and one which not one of us expected. +We've drawn a considerable amount already from one or two bookies, +and I believe even Masters owes us a bit now." + +"Thank you," Ruff said. "I think that I know everything now. My +fee is five hundred guineas." + +Sir Richard looked at him. + +"What?" he exclaimed. + +"Five hundred guineas," Ruff repeated. + +"For a consultation?" Sir Richard asked. + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"More than that," he said. "You are a brave man in your way, Sir +Richard Dyson, but you are going about now shivering under a load +of fear. It sits like a devil incarnate upon your shoulders. It +poisons the air wherever you go. Write your cheque, Sir Richard, +and you can leave that little black devil in my wastebasket. You +are under my protection. Nothing will happen to you." + +Sir Richard sat like a man mesmerised. The little man with the +amiable expression and the badly fitting suit was leaning back in +his chair, his finger tips pressed together, waiting. + +"Nothing will happen!" Sir Richard repeated, incredulously. + +"Certainly not. I guarantee you against any inconvenience which +might arise to you from this recent unfortunate affair. Isn't +that all you want?" + +"It's all I want, certainly," Sir Richard declared, "but I must +understand a little how you propose to secure my immunity." + +Ruff shook his head. + +"I have my own methods," he said. "I can help only those who +trust me." + +Sir Richard drew a cheque book from his pocket. "I don't know why +I should believe in you," he said, as he wrote the cheque. + +"But you do," Peter Ruff said, smiling. "Fortunately for you, +you do!" + + + +It was not so easy to impart a similar confidence into the breast +of Colonel Dickinson, with whom Sir Richard dined that night +tete-a-tete. Dickinson was inclined to think that Sir Richard +ad been "had." + +"You've paid a ridiculous fee," he argued, "and all that you have +in return is the fellow's promise to see you through. It isn't like +you to part with money so easily, Richard. Did he hypnotise you?" + +"I don't think so," Sir Richard answered. "I wasn't conscious +of it." + +"What sort of a fellow is he?" Dickinson asked. + +Sir Richard looked reflectively into his glass. + +"He's a vulgar sort of little Johnny," he said. "Looks as though +he were always dressed in new clothes and couldn't get used to them." + +Three men entered the room. Two remained in the background. John +Dory came forward towards the table. + +"Sir Richard Dyson," he said, gravely, "I have come upon an +unpleasant errand." + +"Go on," Sir Richard said, fingering something hard inside pocket +of his coat. + +"I have a warrant for your arrest," Dory continued, "in connection +with the disappearance of Job Masters on Saturday, the 10th of +November last. I will read the terms of the warrant, if you choose. +It is my duty to warn you that anything you may now say can be used +in evidence against you. This gentleman, I believe, is Colonel +Dickinson?" + +"That is my name, sir," Dickinson answered, with unexpected fortitude. + +"I regret to say," the detective continued, "that I have also a +warrant for your arrest in connection with the same matter." + +Sir Richard had hold of the butt end of his revolver then. Like +grisly phantoms, the thoughts chased one another through his brain. +Should he shoot and end it - pass into black nothingness - escape +disgrace, but die like a rat in a corner? His finger was upon the +trigger. Then suddenly his heart gave a great leap. He raised his +head as though listening. Something flashed in his eyes - something +that was almost like hope. There was no mistaking that voice which +he had heard in the hall! He made a great rally. + +"I can only conclude," he said, turning to the detective, "that you +have made some absurd blunder. If you really possess the warrants +you speak of, however, Colonel Dickinson and I will accompany you +wherever you choose." + +Then the door opened and Peter Ruff walked in, followed by Job +Masters, whose head was still bandaged, and who seemed to have lost +a little flesh and a lot of colour. Peter Ruff looked round +apologetically. He seemed surprised not to find Sir Richard Dyson +and Colonel Dickinson alone. He seemed more than ever surprised +to recognize Dory. + +"I trust," he said smoothly, "that our visit is not inopportune. +Sir Richard Dyson, I believe?" he continued, bowing - "my friend, +Mr. Masters here, has consulted me as to the loss of a betting book, +and we ventured to call to ask you, sir, if by any chance on his +recent visit to your house - " + +"God in Heaven, it's Masters!" Dyson exclaimed. "It's Job Masters!" + +"That's me, sir," Masters admitted. "Mr. Ruff thought you might be +able to help me find that book." + +Sir Richard swayed upon his feet. Then the blood rushed once more +through his veins. + +"Your book's here in my cabinet, safe enough," he said. "You left +it here after our luncheon that day. Where on earth have you been +to, man?" he continued. "We want some money from you over Myopia." + +"I'll pay all right, sir," Masters answered. "Fact is, after our +luncheon party I'm afraid I got a bit fuddled. I don't seem to +remember much." + +He sat down a little heavily. Peter Ruff hastened to the table and +took up a glass. + +"You will excuse me if I give him a little brandy, won't you, sir?" +he said. "He's really not quite fit for getting about yet, but he +was worrying about his book." + +"Give him all the brandy he can drink," Sir Richard answered. + +The detective's face had been a study. He knew Masters well enough +by sight - there was no doubt about his identity! His teeth came +together with an angry little click. He had made a mistake! It +was a thing which would be remembered against him forever! It was +as bad as his failure to arrest that young man at Daisy Villa. + +"Your visit, Masters," Sir Richard said, with a curious smile at +the corners of his lips, "is, in some respects, a little opportune. +About that little matter we were speaking of," he continued, +turning towards the detective. + +"We have only to offer you our apologies, Sir Richard," Dory +answered. + +Then he crossed the room and confronted Peter Ruff. + +"Do I understand, sir, that your name is Ruff - Peter Ruff?" he +asked. + +"That is my name, sir," Peter Ruff admitted, pleasantly "Yours +I believe, is Dory. We are likely to come across one another +now and then, I suppose. Glad to know you." + +The detective stood quite still, and there was no geniality in +his face. + +"I wonder - have we ever met before?" he asked, without removing +his eyes from the other's face. Peter Ruff smiled. + +"Not professionally, at any rate," he answered. "I know that +Scotland Yard you don't think much of us small fry, but we find +out things sometimes!" + +"Why didn't you contradict all those rumours as to his disappearance?" +the detective asked, pointing to where Job Masters was contentedly +sipping his brandy and water. + +"I was acting for my client, and in my own interests," replied Peter. +"It was surely no part of my duty to save you gentlemen at Scotland +Yard from hunting up mare's nests!" + +John Dory went out, followed by his men. Sir Richard took Peter Ruff +by the arm, and, leading him to the sideboard, mixed him a drink. + +"Peter Ruff," he said, "you're a clever scoundrel, but you've earned +your five hundred guineas. Hang it, you're welcome to them! Is +there anything else I can do for you?" + +Peter Ruff raised his glass and set it down again. Once more he +eyed with admiration his client's well-turned out figure. + +"You might give me a letter to your tailors, Sir Richard," he begged. + +Sir Richard laughed outright - it was some time since he had laughed! + +"You shall have it, Peter Ruff," he declared, raising his glass - +"and here's to you!" + + + +CHAPTER III + +VINCENT CAWDOR, COMMISSION AGENT + + +For the second time since their new association, Peter Ruff had +surprised that look upon his secretary's face. This time he wheeled +around in his chair and addressed her. + +"My dear Violet," he said, "be frank with me. What is wrong?" + +Miss Brown turned to face her employer. Save for a greater +demureness of expression and the extreme simplicity of her attire, +she had changed very little since she had given up her life of +comparative luxury to become Peter Ruff's secretary. There was a +sort of personal elegance which clung to her, notwithstanding her +strenuous attempts to dress for her part, except for which she +looked precisely as a private secretary and typist should look. +She even wore a black bow at the back of her hair. + +"I have not complained, have I?" she asked. + +"Do not waste time," Peter Ruff said, coldly. "Proceed." + +"I have not enough to do," she said. "I do not understand why you +refuse so many cases." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"I did not bring my talents into this business," he said, "to watch +flirting wives, to ascertain the haunts of gay husbands, or to +detect the pilferings of servants." + +"Anything is better than sitting still," she protested. + +"I do not agree with you," Peter Ruff said. "I like sitting still +very much indeed - one has time to think. Is there anything else?" + +"Shall I really go on?" she asked. + +"By all means," he answered. + +"I have idea," she continued, "that you are subordinating your +general interests to your secret enmity - to one man. You are +waiting until you can find another case in which you are pitted +against him." + +"Sometimes," Peter Ruff said, "your intelligence surprises me!" + +"I came to you," she continued, looking at him earnestly, "for two +reasons. The personal one I will not touch upon. The other was my +love of excitement. I have tried many things in life, as you know, +Peter, but I have seemed to carry always with me the heritage of +weariness. I thought that my position here would help me to fight +against it." + +"You have seen me bring a corpse to life," Peter Ruff reminded her, +a little aggrieved. + +She smiled. + +"It was a month ago," she reminded him. + +"I can't do that sort of thing every day," he declared. + +"Naturally," she answered; "but you have refused four cases within +the last five days." + +Peter Ruff whistled softly to himself for several moments. + +"Seen anything of our new neighbour in the flat above?" he asked, +with apparent irrelevance. + +Miss Brown looked across at him with upraised eyebrows. + +"I have been in the lift with him twice," she answered. + +"Fancy his appearance?" Ruff asked, casually. + +"Not in the least!" Violet answered. "I thought him a vulgar, +offensive person!" + +Peter Ruff chuckled. He seemed immensely delighted. + +"Mr. Vincent Cawdor he calls himself, I believe," he remarked. + +"I have no idea," Miss Brown declared. The subject did not appeal +to her. + +"His name is on a small copper plate just over the letter-box," +Ruff said. "Rather neat idea, by the bye. He calls himself a +commission agent, I believe." + +Violet was suddenly interested. She realized, after all, that +Mr. Vincent Cawdor might be a person of some importance. + +"What is a commission agent?" she asked. + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"It might mean anything," he declared. "Never trust any one who +is not a little more explicit as to his profession. I am afraid +that this Mr. Vincent Cawdor, for instance, is a bad lot." + +"I am sure he is," Miss Brown declared. + +"Looks after a pretty girl, coughs in the lift - all that sort of +thing, eh?" Peter Ruff asked. + +She nodded. + +"Disgusting!" she exclaimed, with emphasis. + +Peter Ruff sighed, and glanced at the clock. The existence of Mr. +Vincent Cawdor seemed to pass out of his mind. + +"It is nearly one o'clock," he said. "Where do you usually lunch, +Violet?" + +"It depends upon my appetite," she answered, carelessly. "Most +often at an A B C." + +"To-day," Peter Ruff said, "you will be extravagant - at my expense." + +"I had a poor breakfast," Miss Brown remarked, complacently. + +"You will leave at once," Peter Ruff said, "and you will go to the +French Cafe at the Milan. Get a table facing the courtyard, and +towards the hotel side of the room. Keep your eyes open and tell +me exactly what you see." + +She looked at him with parted lips. Her eyes were full of eager +questioning. + +"Mere skirmishing," Peter Ruff continued, "but I think - yes, I +think that it may lead to something." + +"Whom am I to watch?" she asked. + +"Any one who looks interesting," Peter Ruff answered. "For instance, +if this person Vincent Cawdor should be about." + +"He would recognize me!" she declared. + +Peter Ruff shrugged his shoulders. + +"One must hold the candle," he remarked. + +"I decline to flirt with him," she declared. "Nothing would induce +me to be pleasant to such an odious creature." + +"He will be too busy to attempt anything of the sort. Of course +he may not be there. It may be the merest fancy on my part. At +any rate, you may rely upon it that he will not make any overtures +in a public place like the Milan. Mr. Vincent Cawdor may be a +curious sort of person, but I do not fancy that he is a fool!" + +"Very well," Miss Brown said, "I will go." + +"Be back soon after three," Peter Ruff said. "I am going up to my +room to do my exercises." + +"And afterwards?" she asked. + +"I shall have my lunch sent in," he answered. "Don't hurry back, +though. I shall not expect you till a quarter past three." + +It was a few minutes past that time when Miss Brown returned. Peter +Ruff was sitting at his desk, looking as though he had never moved. +He was absorbed by a book of patterns sent in by his new tailor, and +he only glanced up when she entered the room. + +"Violet," he said, earnestly, "come in and sit down. I want to +consult you. There is a new material here - a sort of +mouse-coloured cheviot. I wonder whether it would suit me?" + +Violet was looking very handsome and a little flushed. She raised +her veil and came over to his side. + +"Put that stupid book away, Peter," she said. "I want to tell you +about the Milan." + +He leaned back in his chair. + +"Ah!" he said. "I had forgotten! Was Mr. Vincent Cawdor there?" + +"Yes!" she answered, still a little breathless. "There was some one +else there, too, in whom you are still more interested." + +He nodded. + +"Go on," he said. + +"Mr. Vincent Cawdor," she continued, "came in alone. He looked just +as objectionable as ever, and he stared at me till I nearly threw +my wine glass at him." + +"He did not speak to you?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"I was afraid that he was going to," Miss Brown said, "but +fortunately he met a friend who came to his table and lunched with +him." + +"A friend," Ruff remarked. "Good! What was he like?" + +"Fair, slight, Teutonic," Miss Brown answered. "He wore thick +spectacles, and his moustache was positively yellow." + +Ruff nodded. + +"Go on," he said. + +"Towards the end of luncheon," she continued, "an American came +up to them." + +"An American?" Peter Ruff interrupted. "How do you know that?" + +Miss Brown smiled. + +"He was clean-shaven and he wore neat clothes," she said. "He +talked with an accent you could have cut with a knife and he had +a Baedeker sticking out of his pocket. After luncheon, they all +three went away to the smoking room." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"Anything else?" he asked. + +The girl smiled triumphantly. + +"Yes!" she declared. "There was something else - something which +I think you will find interesting. At the next table to me there +was a man - alone. Can you guess who he was?" + +"John Dory," Ruff said, calmly. + +The girl was disappointed. + +"You knew!" she exclaimed. + +"My dear Violet," he said, "I did not send you there on a fool's +errand." + +"There is something doing, then?" she exclaimed. + +"There is likely," he answered, grimly, "to be a great deal doing!" + + + +The two men who stood upon the hill, and Peter Ruff, who lay upon +his stomach behind a huge boulder, looked upon a new thing. + +Far down in the valley from out of a black shed - the only sign of +man's handiwork for many miles - it came - something grey at first, +moving slowly as though being pushed down a slight incline, then +afloat in the air, gathering speed - something between a torpedo +with wings and a great prehistoric insect. Now and then it +described strange circles, but mostly it came towards them as swift +and as true as an arrow shot from a bow. The two men looked at one +another - the shorter, to whose cheeks the Cumberland winds had +brought no trace of colour, gave vent to a hoarse exclamation. + +"He's done it!" he growled. + +"Wait!" the other answered. + +Over their heads the thing wheeled, and seemed to stand still in the +air. The beating of the engine was so faint that Peter Ruff from +behind the boulder, could hear all that was said. A man leaned out +from his seat - a man with wan cheeks but blazing eyes. + +"Listen," he said. "Take your glasses. There - due north - can you +see a steeple?" + +The men turned their field glasses in the direction toward which the +other pointed. "Yes!" they answered. "It is sixteen miles, as the +crow flies, to Barnham Church - thirty-two miles there and back. +Wait!" + +He swung round, dived till he seemed about to touch the hillside, +then soared upwards and straight away. Peter Ruff took out his +watch. The other two men gazed with fascinated eyes after the +disappearing speck. + +"If he does it - " the shorter one muttered. + +"He will do it!" the other answered. + +He was back again before their eyes were weary of watching. Peter +Ruff, from behind the boulder, closed his watch. Thirty-two miles +in less than half an hour! The youth leaned from his seat. + +"Is it enough?" he asked, hoarsely. + +"It is enough!" the two men answered together. "We will come down." + +The youth touched a lever and the machine glided down towards the +valley, falling all the while with the effortless grace a parachute. +The shed from which his machine had issued was midway down a slope, +with a short length of rails which ran, apparently, through it. The +machine seemed to hover for several moments above the building, then +descended slowly on to the rails and disappeared in the shed. The +two men were already half-way down the hill. Peter Ruff rose from +behind the boulder, stretched himself with a sense of immense relief, +and lit a pipe. As yet he dared not descend. He simply changed his +hiding place for a spot which enabled him to command a view of the +handful of cottages at the back of the hill. He had plenty to think +about. It was a wonderful thing - this - which he had seen! + +The youth, meanwhile, was drinking deep of the poisonous cup. He +walked between the two men - his cheeks were flushed, his eyes on +fire. + +"If all the world to-day had seen what we have seen," the older +man was saying, "there would be no more talk of Wilbur Wrights or +Farmans. Those men are babies, playing with their toys." + +"Mine is the ideal principle," the youth declared. "No one else +has thought of it, no one else has made use of it. Yet all the +time I am afraid - it is so simple." + +"Sell quick, then," the fair-headed man advised. "By to-morrow +night I can promise you fifty thousand pounds." + +The youth stopped. He drew a deep breath. + +"I shall sell," he declared. "I need money. I want to live. Fifty +thousand pounds is enough. Eleven weary months I have slept and +toiled there in the shed." + +"It is finished," the older man declared. "To-night you shall come +with us to London. To-morrow night your pockets shall be full of +gold. It will be a change for you." + +The youth sobbed. + +"God knows it will," he muttered. "I haven't two shillings in the +world, and I owe for my last petrol." + +The two men laughed heartily. The elder took a little bundle of +notes from his pocket and handed them to the boy. + +"Come," he said, "not for another moment shall you feel as poor as +that. Money will have no value for you in the future. The fifty +thousand pounds will only be a start. After that, you will get +royalties. If I had it, I would give you a quarter of a million now +for your plans; I know that I can get you more." + +The youth laughed hysterically. They entered the tiny inn and drank +home-made wine - the best they could get. Then a great car drew up +outside, and the older - the clean-shaven man, who looked like an +American - hurried out, and dragging a hamper from beneath the seat +returned with a gold-foiled bottle in his hand. + +"Come," he said, "a toast! We have one bottle left - one bottle of +the best!" + +"Champagne!" the youth cried eagerly, holding out his hand. + +"The only wine for the conquerors," the other declared, pouring it +out into the thick tumblers. "Drink, all of you, to the Franklin +Flying Machine, to the millions she will earn - to to-morrow night!" + +The youth drained his glass, watched it replenished, and drained it +again. Then they went out to the car. + +"There is one thing yet to be done," he said. "Wait here for me." + +They waited whilst he climbed up toward the shed. The two men +watched him. A little group of rustics stood open-mouthed around the +great car. Then there was a little shout. From above their heads +came the sound of a great explosion - red flames were leaping up from +that black barn to the sky. The two men looked at one another. They +rushed to the hill and met the youth descending. + +"What the - " + +He stopped them. + +"I dared not leave it here," he explained. "It would have been +madness. I am perfectly certain that I have been watched during the +last few days. I can build another in a week. I have the plans +in my pocket for every part." + +The older man wiped the perspiration from his forehead. + +"You are sure - that you have the plans?" he asked. + +The youth struck himself on the chest. + +"They are here," he answered, "every one of them!" + +"Perhaps you are right, then," the other man answered. "It gave +me a turn, though. You are sure that you can make it again in the +time you say?" + +"Of course!" the youth answered, impatiently. "Besides, the thing +is so simple. It speaks for itself." + +They climbed into the car, and in a few minutes were rushing away +southwards. + +"To-morrow night - to-morrow night it all begins!" the youth +continued. "I must start with ready-made clothes. I'll get the best +I can, eat the best I can, drink wine, go to the music halls. +To-morrow night." + +His speech ended in a wail - a strange, half-stifled cry which rang +out with a chill, ghostly sound upon the black silence. His face +was covered with a wet towel, a ghastly odor was in his nostrils, +his lips refused to utter any further sound. He lay back among the +cushions, senseless. The car slowed down. + +"Get the papers, quick!" the elder man muttered, opening the youth's +coat. "Here they are! Catch hold, Dick! My God! What's that?" + +He shook from head to foot. The little fair man looked at him with +contempt. + +"A sheep bell on the moor," he said. "Are you sure you have +everything?" + +"Yes!" the other muttered. + +They both stood up and raised the prostrate form between them. Below +them were the black waters of the lake. + +"Over with him!" the younger said. "Quick!" + +Once more his companion shrank away. + +"Listen!" he muttered, hoarsely. + +They both held their breaths. From somewhere along the road behind +came a faint sound like the beating of an engine. + +"It's a car!" the elder man exclaimed. "Quick! Over with him!" + +They lifted the body of the boy, whose lips were white and +speechless now, and threw him into the water. With a great splash +he disappeared. They watched for a moment. Only the ripples flowed +away from the place where he had sunk. They jumped back to their +seats. + +"There's something close behind," the older man muttered. "Get on! +Fast! Fast!" + +The younger man hesitated. + +"Perhaps," he said slowly, "it would be better to wait and see who +it is coming up behind. Our young friend there is safe. The current +has him, and the tarn is bottomless." + +There was a moment's indecision - a moment which was to count for much +in the lives of three men. Then the elder one's counsels prevailed. +They crept away down the hill, smoothly and noiselessly. Behind them, +the faint throbbing grew less and less distinct. Soon they heard it +no more. They drove into the dawn and through the long day. + + + +Side by side on one of the big leather couches in the small smoking +room of the Milan Hotel, Mr. James P. Rounceby and his friend Mr. +Richard Marnstam sat whispering together. It was nearly two o clock, +and they were alone in the room. Some of the lights had been turned +out. The roar of life in the streets without had ceased. It was an +uneasy hour for those whose consciences were not wholly at rest! + +The two men were in evening dress - Rounceby in dinner coat and +black tie, as befitted his role of travelling American. The glasses +in front of them were only half-filled, and had remained so for the +last hour. Their conversation had been nervous and spasmodic. It +was obvious that they were waiting for some one. + +Three o'clock struck by the little timepiece on the mantel shelf. A +little exclamation of a profane nature broke from Rounceby's lips. +He leaned toward his companion. + +"Say," he muttered, in a rather thick undertone, "how about this +fellow Vincent Cawdor? You haven't any doubts about him, I suppose? +He's on the square, all right, eh?" + +Marnstam wet his lips nervously. + +"Cawdor's all right," he said. "I had it direct from headquarters +at Paris. What are you uneasy about, eh?" + +Rounceby pointed towards the clock. + +"Do you see the time?" he asked. + +"He said he'd be late," Marnstam answered. + +Rounceby put his hand to his forehead and found it moist. + +"It's been a silly game, all along," he muttered. "We'd better have +brought the young ass up here and jostled him!" + +"Not so easy," Marnstam answered. "These young fools have a way of +turning obstinate. He'd have chucked us, sure. Anyhow, he's safer +where he is." + +They relapsed once more into silence. A storm of rain beat upon the +window. Rounceby glanced up. It was as black out there as were the +waters of that silent tarn! The man shivered as the thought struck +him. Marnstam, who had no nerves, twirled his moustache and watched +his companion with wonder. + +"You look as though you saw a ghost," he remarked. + +"Perhaps I do!" Rounceby growled. + +"You had better finish your drink, my dear fellow," Marnstam advised. +"Afterwards - " + +Suddenly he stiffened into attention. He laid his hand upon his +companion's knee. + +"Listen!" he said. "There is some one coming." + +They leaned a little forward. The swing doors were opened. A girl's +musical laugh rang out from the corridor. Tall and elegant, with +her black lace skirt trailing upon the floor, her left hand resting +upon the shoulder of the man into whose ear she was whispering, and +whom she led straight to one of the writing tables, Miss Violet +Brown swept into the room. On her right, and nearest to the two +men, was Mr. Vincent Cawdor. + +"Now you can go and talk to your friends!" she exclaimed, lightly. +"I am going to make Victor listen to me." + +Cawdor left his two companions and sank on to the couch by Rounceby's +side. The young man, with his opera hat still on his head, and the +light overcoat which he had been carrying on the floor by his side, +was seated before the writing table with his back to them. Miss +Brown was leaning over him, with her hand upon the back of his chair. +They were out of hearing of the other three men. + +"Well, Rounceby, my friend," Mr. Vincent Cawdor remarked, cheerfully, +"you're having a late sitting, eh?" + +"We've been waiting for you, you fool!" Rounceby answered. "What +on earth are you thinking about, bringing a crowd like this about +with you, eh?" + +Cawdor smiled, reassuringly. + +"Don't you worry," he said, in a lower tone. "I know my way in and +out of the ropes here better than you can teach me. A big hotel +like this is the safest and the most dangerous place in the world + - just how you choose to make it. You've got to bluff 'em all the +time. That's why I brought the young lady - particular friend of +mine - real nice girl, too!" + +"And the young man?" Rounceby asked, suspiciously. + +Cawdor grew more serious. + +"That's Captain Lowther," he said softly - "private secretary to +Colonel Dean, who's the chief of the aeronaut department at +Aldershot. He has a draft in his pocket for twenty thousand pounds. +It is yours if he is satisfied with the plans." + +"Twenty thousand pounds!" Marnstam said, thoughtfully. "It is very +little - very little indeed for the risks which we have run!" + +Cawdor moved his place and sat between the men. He laid a hand upon +Marnstam's shoulder - another on Rounceby's knee. + +"My dear friends," he said, impressively, "if you could have built +a model, or conducted these negotiations in the usual way, you might +have asked a million. As it is, I think I am the only man in +England who could have dealt with this matter - so satisfactorily." + +Rounceby glanced suspiciously at the young man to whom Miss Brown +was still devoting the whole of her attention. + +"Why don't he come out and talk like a man?" he asked. "What's the +idea of his sitting over there with his back to us?" + +"I want him never to see your faces - to deal only with me," Cawdor +explained. "Remember that he is in an official position. The money +he is going to part with is secret service money." + +The two men were beginning to be more reassured. Rounceby slowly +produced a roll of oilskin from his pocket. + +"He'll look at them as he sits there," he insisted. "There must be +no copying or making notes, mind." + +Cawdor smiled in a superior fashion. + +"My dear fellow," he said, "you are dealing with the emissary of a +government - not one of your own sort." + +Rounceby glanced at his companion, who nodded. Then he handed over +the plans. + +"Tell him to look sharp," he said. "It's not so late but that there +may be people in here yet." + +Cawdor crossed the room with the plans, and laid them down before +the writing table. Rounceby rose to his feet and lit a cigar. +Marnstam walked to the further window and back again. They stood +side by side. Rounceby's whole frame seemed to have stiffened with +some new emotion. + +"There's something wrong, Jim," Marnstam whispered softly in his ear. +"You've got the old lady in your pocket?" + +"Yes!" Rounceby answered thickly, "and, by Heavens, I'm going to +use it!" + +"Don't shoot unless it's the worst," Marnstam counselled. "I shall +go out of that window, into the tree, and run for the river. But +bluff first, Jim - bluff for your life!" + +There were swinging doors leading into the room from the hotel side, +and a small door exactly opposite which led to the residential part +of the place. Both of these doors were opened at precisely the +same moment. Through the former stepped two strong looking men in +long overcoats, and with the unmistakable appearance of policemen +in plain clothes. Through the latter came John Dory! He walked +straight up to the two men. It spoke volumes for his courage that, +knowing their characters and believing them to be in desperate +straits, he came unarmed. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I hold warrants for your arrest. I will not +trouble you with your aliases. You are known to-day, I believe, +as James Rounceby and Richard Marnstam. Will you come quietly?" + +Marnstam's expression was one of bland and beautiful surprise. + +"My dear sir," he said, edging, however, a little toward the +window - "you must be joking! What is the charge?" + +"You are charged with the wilful murder of a young man named Victor +Franklin," answered Dory. "His body was recovered from Longthorp +Tarn this afternoon. You had better say nothing. Also with the +theft of certain papers known to have been in his possession." + +Now it is possible that at this precise moment Marnstam would have +made his spring for the window and Rounceby his running fight for +liberty. The hands of both men were upon their revolvers, and John +Dory's life was a thing of no account. But at this juncture a +thing happened. There were in the room the two policemen guarding +the swing doors, and behind them the pale faces of a couple of night +porters looking anxiously in. Vincent Cawdor and Miss Brown were +standing side by side, a little in the background, and the young +man who had been their companion had risen also to his feet. As +though with some intention of intervening, he moved a step forward, +almost in line with Dory. Rounceby saw him, and a new fear gripped +him by the heart. He shrank back, his fingers relaxed their hold +of his weapon, the sweat was hot upon his forehead. Marnstam, +though he seemed for a moment stupefied, realised the miracle +which had happened and struck boldly for his own. + +"If this is a joke," he said, "it strikes me as being a particularly +bad one. I should like to know, sir, how you dare to come into +this room and charge me and my friend - Mr. Rounceby - with being +concerned in the murder of a young man who is even now actually +standing by your side." + +John Dory started back. He looked with something like apprehension +at the youth to whom Marnstam pointed. + +"My name is Victor Franklin," that young man declared. "What's all +this about?" + +Dory felt the ground give beneath his feet. Nevertheless, he set +his teeth and fought for his hand. + +"You say that your name is Victor Franklin?" he asked. + +"Certainly!" + +"You are the inventor of a flying machine?" + +"I am." + +"You were in Westmoreland with these two men a few days go?" + +"I was," the young man admitted. + +"You left the village of Scawton in a motor car with them?" + +"Yes! We quarrelled on the way, and parted." + +"You were robbed of nothing?" + +Victor Franklin smiled. + +"Certainly not," he answered. "I had nothing worth stealing except +my plans, and they are in my pocket now." + +There was a few moments' intense silence. Dory wheeled suddenly +round, and looked to where Mr. Vincent Cawdor had been standing. + +"Where is Mr. Cawdor?" he asked, sharply. + +"The gentleman with the grey moustache left a few seconds ago," one +of the men at the door said. Dory was very pale. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I have to offer you my apologies. I have +apparently been deceived by some false information. The charge +is withdrawn." + +He turned on his heel and left the room. The two policemen +followed him. + +"Keep them under observation," Dory ordered shortly, "but I am +afraid this fellow Cawdor has sold me." + +He found a hansom outside, and sprang into it. + +"Number 27, Southampton Row," he ordered. + +Rounceby and his partner were alone in the little smoking room. +The former was almost inarticulate. The night porter brought +them brandy, and both men drank. + +"We've got to get to the bottom of this, Marnstam," Mr. Rounceby +muttered. + +Mr. Marnstam was thinking. + +"Do you remember that sound through the darkness," he said - "the +beating of an engine way back on the road?" + +"What of it?" Rounceby demanded. + +"It was a motor bicycle," Marnstam said quietly. "I thought so +at the time." + +"Supposing some one followed us and pulled him out," Rounceby said, +hoarsely, "why are we treated like this? I tell you we've been +made fools of! We've been treated like children - not even to be +punished! We'll have the truth somehow out of that devil Cawdor! +Come!" + +They made their way to the courtyard and found a cab. + +"Number 27, Southampton Row!" they ordered. + +They reached their destination some time before Dory, whose horse +fell down in the Strand, and who had to walk. They ascended to the +fourth floor of the building and rang the bell of Vincent Cawdor's +room - no answer. They plied the knocker - no result. Rounceby +peered through the keyhole. + +"He hasn't come home yet," he remarked. "There is no light anywhere +in the place." + +The door of a flat across the passage was quietly opened. Mr. Peter +Ruff, in a neat black smoking suit and slippers, and holding a pipe +in his hand, looked out. + +"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "but I do not think that Mr. Cawdor +is in. He went out early this evening, and I have not heard him +return." + +The two men turned away. + +"We are much obliged to you, sir," Mr. Marnstam said. + +"Can I give him any message?" Peter Ruff asked, politely. "We +generally see something of one another in the morning." + +"You can tell him - " Rounceby began. + +"No message, thanks!" Marnstam interrupted. "We shall probably +run across him ourselves to-morrow." + +John Dory was nearly a quarter of an hour late. After his third +useless summons, Mr. Peter Ruff presented himself again. + +"I am afraid," he said, "you will not find my neighbour at home. +There have been several people enquiring for him to-night, without +any result." + +John Dory came slowly across the landing. + +"Good evening, Mr. Ruff!" he said. + +"Why, it's Mr. Dory!" Peter Ruff declared. "Come in, do, and have +a drink." + +John Dory accepted the invitation, and his eyes were busy in that +little sitting room during the few minutes which it took his host +to mix that whisky and soda. + +"Nothing wrong with our friend opposite, I hope?" Peter Ruff asked, +jerking his head across the landing. + +"I hope not, Mr. Ruff," John Dory said. "No doubt in the morning he +will be able to explain everything. I must say that I should like +to see him to-night, though." + +"He may turn up yet," Peter Ruff remarked, cheerfully. "He's like +myself - a late bird." + +"I fear not," Dory answered, drily. "Nice rooms you have here, sir. +Just a sitting room and bedroom, eh?" + +Peter Ruff stood up and threw open the door of the inner apartment. + +"That's so," he answered. "Care to have a look round?" + +The detective did look round, and pretty thoroughly. As soon as he +was sure that there was no one concealed upon the premises, he +drank his whisky and soda and went. + +"I'll look in again to see Cawdor," he remarked - "to-morrow, +perhaps, or the next day." + +"I'll let him know if I see him about," Peter Ruff declared. "Sorry +the lift's stopped. Three steps to the left and straight on. +Good-night!" + + + +Miss Brown arrived early the following morning, and was disposed +to be inquisitive. + +"I should like to know," she said, "exactly what has become of Mr. +Vincent Cawdor." + +Peter Ruff took her upstairs. There was a little mound of ashes +in the grate. + +She nodded. + +"I imagined that," she said. "But why did you send me out to +watch yourself?" + +"My dear Violet," Peter Ruff answered, "there is no man in the world +to-day who is my equal in the art of disguising himself. At the +same time, I wanted to know whether I could deceive you. I wanted +to be quite sure that my study of Mr. Vincent Cawdor was a safe one. +I took those rooms in his name and in his own person. I do not +think that it occurred even to our friend John Dory to connect us in +his mind." + +"Very well," she went on. "Now tell me, please, what took you up +to Westmoreland?" + +"I followed Rounceby and Marnstam," he answered, "I knew them when +I was abroad, studying crime - I could tell you a good deal about +both those men if it were worth while - and I knew, when they hired +a big motor car and engaged a crook to drive it, that they were +worth following. I saw the trial of the flying machine, and when +they started off with young Franklin, I followed on a motor bicycle. +I fished him out of the tarn where they left him for dead, brought +him on to London, and made my own terms with him." + +"What about the body which was found in the Longthorp Tarn?" she +asked. + +"I had that telegram sent myself," Peter Ruff answered. + +She looked at him severely. + +"You went out of your way to make a fool of John Dory!" she said, +frowning at him. + +"That I admit," he answered. + +"It seems to me," she continued, "that that, after all, has been +the chief object of the whole affair. I do not see that we - that +is the firm - profit in the least." + +Peter Ruff chuckled. + +"We've got a fourth share in the Franklin Flying Machine," he +answered, "and I'm hanged if I'd sell it for a hundred thousand +pounds." + +"You've taken advantage of that young man's gratitude," she declared. + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"I earned the money," he answered. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE INDISCRETION OF LETTY SHAW + + +Amidst a storm of whispered criticisms, the general opinion was +that Letty Shaw was a silly little fool who ought to have known +better. When she had entered the restaurant a few minutes before +midnight, followed by Austen Abbott, every one looked to see a third +person following them. No third person, however, appeared. Gustav +himself conducted them to a small table laid for two, covered with +pink roses, and handed his fair client the menu of a specially +ordered supper. There was no gainsaying the fact that Letty and +her escort proposed supping alone! + +The Cafe at the Milan was, without doubt, the fashionable rendezvous +of the moment for those ladies connected with the stage who, after +their performance, had not the time or the inclination to make the +conventional toilet demanded by the larger restaurants. Letty Shaw, +being one of the principal ornaments of the musical comedy stage, +was well known to every one in the room. There was scarcely a person +there who within the last fortnight had not found an opportunity of +congratulating her upon her engagement to Captain the Honourable +Brian Sotherst. Sotherst was rich, and one of the most popular +young men about town. Letty Shaw, although she had had one or two +harmless flirtations, was well known as a self-respecting and +hard-working young actress who loved her work, and against whom no +one had ever had a word to say. Consequently, the shock was all the +greater when, within a fortnight of her engagement, she was thus to be +seen openly supping alone with the most notorious woman hunter about +town - a man of bad reputation, a man, too, towards whom Sotherst was +known to have a special aversion. Nothing but a break with Sotherst +or a fit of temporary insanity seemed to explain, even inadequately, +the situation. + +Her best friend - the friend who knew her and believed in her - rose +to her feet and came sailing down the room. She nodded gaily to +Abbott, whom she hated, and whom she had not recognized for years, +and laid her hand upon Letty's arm. + +"Where's Brian?" she asked. + +Letty shrugged her shoulders - it was not altogether a natural +gesture. + +"On duty to-night," she answered. + +Her best friend paused for a moment. + +"Come over and join our party, both of you," she said. "Dicky +Pennell's here and Gracie Marsh - just landed. They'd love to meet +you." + +Letty shook her head slowly. There was a look in her face which +even her best friend did not understand. + +"I'm afraid that we can't do that," she said. "I am Mr. Abbott's +guest." + +"And to-night," Austen Abbott intervened, looking up at the woman +who stood between them, "I am not disposed to share Miss Shaw with +anybody." + +Her best friend could do no more than shake her head and go away. +The two were left alone for the rest of the evening. When they +departed together, people who knew felt that a whiff of tragedy had +passed through the room. Nobody understood - or pretended to +understand. Even before her engagement, Letty had never been known +to sup alone with a man. That she should do so now, and with this +particular man, was preposterous! + +"Something will come of it," her best friend murmured, sadly, as +she watched Austen Abbott help his companion on with her cloak. + +Something did! + + +Peter Ruff rose at his accustomed time the following morning, and +attired himself, if possible, with more than his usual care. He +wore the grey suit which he had carefully put out the night before, +but he hesitated long between the rival appeals of a red tie with +white spots and a plain mauve one. He finally chose the latter, +finding that it harmonised more satisfactorily with his socks, and +after a final survey of himself in the looking-glass, he entered +the next room, where his coffee was set out upon a small round table +near the fire, together with his letters and newspapers. + +Peter Ruff was, after all, like the rest of us, a creature of habit. +He made an invariable rule of glancing through the newspapers before +he paid any regard at all to his letters or his breakfast. In the +absence of anything of a particularly sensational character, he then +opened his letters in leisurely fashion, and went back afterwards +to the newspaper as he finished his meal. This morning, however, +both his breakfast and letters remained for some time untouched. +The first paragraph which caught his eye as he shook open the Daily +Telegraph was sufficiently absorbing. There it was in great black +type: + + + TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN THE FLAT OF A WELL-KNOWN ACTRESS! + AUSTEN ABBOTT SHOT DEAD! + ARREST OF CAPTAIN SOTHERST + +Beyond the inevitable shock which is always associated with the +taking of life, and the unusual position of the people concerned +in it, there was little in the brief account of the incident to +excite the imagination. A policeman on the pavement outside the +flat in which Miss Shaw and her mother lived fancied that he heard, +about two o'clock in the morning, the report of a revolver shot. +As nothing further transpired, and as the sound was very indistinct, +he did not at once enter the building, but kept it, so far as +possible, under observation. About twenty minutes later, a young +gentleman in evening dress came out into the street, and the +policeman noticed at once that he was carrying a small revolver, +which he attempted to conceal. The constable thereupon whistled +for his sergeant, and accompanied by the young gentleman - who made +no effort to escape - ascended to Miss Shaw's rooms, where the body +of Austen Abbott was discovered lying upon the threshold of the +sitting room with a small bullet mark through the forehead. The +inmates of the house were aroused and a doctor sent for. The +deceased man was identified as Austen Abbott - a well-known actor - +and the man under arrest gave his name at once as Captain the +Honourable Brian Sotherst. Peter Ruff sighed as he laid down the +paper. The case seemed to him perfectly clear, and his sympathies +were altogether with the young officer who had taken the law into +his own hands. He knew nothing of Miss Letty Shaw, and, consequently, +did her, perhaps, less than justice in his thoughts. Of Austen +Abbott, on the other hand, he knew a great deal - and nothing of +good. It was absurd, after all, that any one should be punished for +killing such a brute! + +He descended, a few minutes later, to his office, and found Miss +Brown busy arranging a bowl of violets upon his desk. + +"Isn't it horrible?" she cried, as he entered, carrying a bundle of +papers under his arm. "I never have had such a shock!" + +"Do you know any of them, then?" Peter Ruff asked, straightening his +tie in the mirror. + +"Of course!" she answered. "Why, I was in the same company as Letty +Shaw for a year. I was at the Milan, too, last night. Letty was +there having supper alone with Austen Abbott. We all said that +there'd be trouble, but of course we never dreamed of this! Isn't +there any chance for him, Peter? Can't he get off?" + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"I'm afraid not," he answered. "They may be able to bring evidence +of a quarrel and reduce it to manslaughter, but what you've just +told me about this supper party makes it all the worse. It will +come out in the evidence, of course." + +"Captain Sotherst is such a dear," Miss Brown declared, "and so +good-looking! And as for that brute Austen Abbott, he ought to +have been shot long ago!" + +Peter Ruff seated himself before his desk and hitched up his +trousers at the knees. + +"No doubt you are right, Violet," he said, "but people go about +these things so foolishly. To me it is simply exasperating to +reflect how little use is made of persons such as myself, whose +profession in life it is to arrange these little matters. Take +the present case, for example. Captain Sotherst had only to lay +these facts before me, and Austen Abbott was a ruined man. I +could have arranged the affair for him in half-a-dozen different +ways. Whereas now it must be a life for a life - the life of an +honest young English gentleman for that of a creature who should +have been kicked out of the world as vermin!... I have some +letters give you, Violet, if you please." + +She swung round in her chair reluctantly. + +"I can't help thinking of that poor young fellow," she said, with +a sigh. + +"Sentiment after office hours, if you please!" said Peter. + +Then there came a knock at the door. + + +His visitor lifted her veil, and Peter Ruff recognized her +immediately. + +"What can I do for you, Lady Mary?" he asked. + +She saw the recognition in his eyes even before he spoke, and +wondered at it. + +"You know me?" she exclaimed. + +"I know most people," he answered, drily; "it is part of my +profession." + +"Tell me - you are Mr. Peter Ruff," she said, "the famous specialist +in the detection of crime? You know that Brian Sotherst is my brother?" + +"Yes," he said, "I know it! I am sorry - very sorry, indeed." + +He handed her a chair. She seated herself with a little tightening +of the lips. + +"I want more than sympathy from you, Mr. Ruff," she warned him. +"I want your help." + +"It is my profession," he admitted, "but your brother's case makes +intervention difficult, does it not?" + +"You mean - " she began. + +"Your brother himself does not deny his guilt, I understand." + +"He has not denied it," she answered - "very likely he will not do +so before the magistrate - but neither has he admitted it. Mr. Ruff, +you are such a clever man. Can't you see the truth?" + +Peter Ruff looked at her steadily for several moments. + +"Lady Mary," he said, "I can see what you are going to suggest. You +are going on the assumption that Austen Abbott was shot by Letty +Shaw and that your brother is taking the thing on his shoulders." + +"I am sure of it!" she declared. "The girl did it herself, beyond +a doubt. Brian would never have shot any one. He might have +horsewhipped him, perhaps - even beaten him to death - but shot +him in cold blood - never!" + +"The provocation - " Ruff began. + +"There was no provocation," she interrupted. "He was engaged to +the girl, and of course we hated it, but she was an honest little +thing, and devoted to him." + +"Doubtless," Ruff admitted. "But all the same, as you will hear +before the magistrates, or at the inquest, she was having supper +alone with Austen Abbott that night at the Milan." + +Lady Mary's eyes flashed. + +"I don't believe it!" she declared. + +"It is nevertheless true," Peter Ruff assured her. "There is no +shadow of doubt about it." + +Lady Mary was staggered. For a few moment she seemed struggling +to rearrange her thoughts. + +"You see," Ruff continued, "the fact that Miss Shaw was willing to +sup with Austen Abbott tete-a-tete renders it more improbable that +she should shoot him in her sitting room, an hour or so later, and +then go calmly up to her mother's room as though nothing had +happened." + +Lady Mary had lost some of her confidence, but she was not daunted. + +"Even if we have been deceived in the girl," she said, thoughtfully + - "even if she were disposed to flirt with other men - even then +there might be a stronger motive than ever for her wishing to get +rid of Abbott. He may have become jealous, and threatened her." + +"It is, of course, possible," Ruff assented, politely. "Your +theory would, at any rate, account for your brother's present +attitude." + +She looked at him steadfastly. + +"You believe, then," she said, "that my brother shot Austen Abbott?" + +"I do," he admitted frankly. "So does every man or woman of common +sense in London. On the facts as they are stated in the newspapers, +with the addition of which I have told you, no other conclusion is +possible." + +Lady Mary rose. + +"Then I may as well go," she said tearfully. + +"Not at all," Peter Ruff declared. "Listen. This is a matter of +business with me. I say that on the facts as they are known, your +brother's guilt appears indubitable. I do not say that there may +not be other facts in the background which alter the state of +affairs. If you wish me to search for them, engage me, and I will +do my best." + +"Isn't that what I am here for?" the girl exclaimed. + +"Very well," Peter Ruff said. "My services are at your disposal." + +"You will do your best - more than your best, won't you?" she begged. +"Remember that he is my brother - my favourite brother!" + +"I will do what can be done," Peter Ruff promised. "Please sit down +at that desk and write me two letters of introduction." + +She drew off her gloves and prepared to obey him. + +"To whom?" she asked. + +"To the solicitors who are defending your brother," he said, "and +to Miss Letty Shaw." + +"You mean to go and see her?" Lady Mary asked, doubtfully. + +"Naturally," Peter Ruff answered. "If your supposition is correct, +she might easily give herself away under a little subtle +cross-examination. It is my business to know how to ask people +questions in such a way that if they do not speak the truth their +words give some indication of it. If she is innocent I shall know +that I have to make my effort in another direction." + +"What other direction can there be?" Lady Mary asked dismally. + +Peter Ruff said nothing. He was too kind-hearted to kindle false +hopes. + +"It's a hopeless case, of course," Miss Brown remarked, after Lady +Mary had departed. + +"I'm afraid so," Peter Ruff answered. "Still I must earn my money. +Please get some one to take you to supper to-night at the Milan, +and see if you can pick up any scandal." + +"About Letty?" she asked. + +"About either of them," he answered. "Particularly I should like +to know if any explanation has cropped up of her supping alone +with Austen Abbott." + +"I don't see why you can't take me yourself," she remarked. "You +are on the side of the law this time, at any rate." + +"I will," he answered, after a moment's hesitation. "I will call +for you at eleven o'clock to-night." + +He rose and closed his desk emphatically. + +"You are going out?" she asked. + +"I am going to see Miss Letty Shaw," he answered. + +He took a taxicab to the flats, and found a handful of curious people +still gazing up at the third floor. The parlourmaid who answered +his summons was absolutely certain that Miss Shaw would not see him. +He persuaded her, after some difficulty, to take in his letter while +he waited in the hall. When she returned, she showed him into a +small sitting room and pulled down the blinds. + +"Miss Shaw will see you, sir, for a few minutes," she announced, in +a subdued tone. "Poor dear young lady," she continued, "she has +been crying her eyes out all the morning." + +"No wonder," Peter Ruff said, sympathetically. "It's a terrible +business, this!" + +"One of the nicest young men as ever walked," the girl declared, +firmly. "As for that brute, he deserved all he's got, and more!" + +Peter Ruff was left alone for nearly a quarter of an hour. Then +the door was softly opened and Letty Shaw entered. There was no +doubt whatever about her suffering. Ruff, who had seen her only +lately at the theatre, was shocked. Under her eyes were blacker +lines than her pencil had ever traced. Not only was she ghastly +pale, but her face seemed wan and shrunken. She spoke to him the +moment she entered, leaning with on hand upon the sideboard. + +"Lady Mary writes that you want to help us," she said. "How can +you? How is it possible?" + +Even her voice had gone. She spoke hoarsely, and as though short +of breath. Her eyes searched his face feverishly. It seemed +cruelty not to answer her at once, and Peter Ruff was not a cruel +man. Nevertheless, he remained silent, and it seemed to her that +his eyes were like points of fire upon her face. + +"What is the matter?" she cried, with breaking voice. "What have +you come for? Why don't you speak to me?" + +"Madam," Peter Ruff said, "I should like to help you, and I will do +what I can. But in order that I may do so, it is necessary that you +should answer me two questions - truthfully!" + +Her eyes grew wider. It was the face of a terrified child. + +"Why not?" she exclaimed. "What have I to conceal?" + +Peter Ruff's expression never changed. There was nothing about +him, as he stood there with his hands behind him, his head thrown a +little forward, in the least inspiring - nothing calculated to +terrify the most timid person. Yet the girl looked at him with the +eyes of a frightened bird. + +"Remember, then," he continued, smoothly, "that what you say to me +is sacred. You and I are alone without witnesses or eavesdroppers. +Was it Brian Sotherst who shot Abbott - or was it you?" + +She gave a little cry. Her hands clasped the sides of her head in +horror. + +"I!" she exclaimed, "I! God help me!" + +He waited. In a moment she looked up. + +"You cannot believe that," she said, with a calmness for which he +was scarcely prepared. "It is absurd. I left the room by the +inner door as he took up his hat to step out into the hall." + +"Incidentally," he asked - "this is not my other question, mind - +why did you not let him out yourself?" + +"We had disagreed," she answered, curtly. + +Peter Ruff bent his head in assent. + +"I see," he remarked. "You had disagreed. Abbott probably hoped +that you would relent, so he waited for a few minutes. Brian +Sotherst, who had escaped from his engagement in time, he thought, +to come and wish you good night, must have walked in and found him +there. By the bye, how would Captain Sotherst get in?" + +"He had a key," the girl answered. "My mother lives here with me, +and we have only one maid. It was more convenient. I gave him one +washed in gold for a birthday present only a few days ago." + +"Thank you," Peter Ruff said. "The revolver, I understand, was +your property?" + +She nodded. + +"It was a present from Brian," she said. "He gave it to me in a +joke, and I had it on the table with some other curiosities." + +"The first question," Peter Ruff said, "is disposed of. May I +proceed to the second?" + +The girl moistened her lips. + +"Yes!" she answered. + +"Why did you sup alone with Austen Abbott last night?" + +She shrank a little away. + +"Why should I not?" she asked. + +"You have been on the stage, my dear Miss Shaw," Peter Ruff continued, +"for between four and five years. During the whole of that time, it +has been your very wise habit to join supper parties, of course, when +the company was agreeable to you, but to sup alone with no man! Am I +not right?" + +"You seem to know a great deal about me," she faltered. + +"Am I not right?" he repeated. + +"Yes!" + +"You break your rule for the first time," Peter Ruff continued, "in +favour of a man of notoriously bad character, a few weeks after the +announcement of your engagement to an honourable young English +gentleman. You know very well the construction likely to be put +upon your behaviour - you, of all people, would be the most likely +to appreciate the risk you ran. Why did you run it? In other words, +I repeat my question. Why did you sup alone with Austen Abbott +last night?" + +All this time she had been standing. She came a little forward now, +and threw herself into an easy-chair. + +"It doesn't help!" she exclaimed. "All this doesn't help!" + +"Nor can I help you, then," Peter Ruff said, stretching out his +hand for his hat. + +She waved to him to put it down. + +"I will tell you," she said. "It has nothing to do with the case, +but since you ask, you shall know. There is a dear little girl in +our company - Fluffy Dean we all call her - only eighteen years old. +We all love her, she is so sweet, and just like I was when I first +went on the stage, only much nicer. She is very pretty, she has no +money, and she is such an affectionate little dear that although she +is as good as gold, we are all terrified for her sake whenever she +makes acquaintances. Several of us who are most interested made a +sort of covenant. We all took it in turns to look after her, and +try to see that she did not meet any one she shouldn't. Yet, for +all our precautions, Austen Abbott got hold of her and turned her +silly little head. He was a man of experience, and she was only a +child. She wouldn't listen to us - she wouldn't hear a word against +him. I took what seemed to me to be the only chance. I went to him +myself - I begged for mercy, I begged him to spare the child. I +swore that if - anything happened to her, I would start a crusade +against him, I would pledge my word that he should be cut by every +decent man and woman on the stage! He listened to what I had to say +and at first he only smiled. When I had finished, he made me an +offer. He said that if I would sup with him alone at the Milan, +and permit him to escort me home afterwards, he would spare the +child. One further condition he made - that I was to tell no one +why I did it. It was the man's brutal vanity! I made the promise, +but I break it now. You have asked me and I have told you. I went +through with the supper, although I hated it. I let him come in for +a drink as though he had been a friend. Then he tried to make love +to me. I took the opportunity of telling him exactly what I thought +of him. Then I showed him the door, and left him. Afterwards - +afterwards - Brian came in! They must have met upon the very +threshold!" + +Peter Ruff took up his hat. + +"Thank you!" he said. + +"You see," she continued, drearily, "that it all has very little to +do with the case. I meant to keep it to myself, because, of course, +apart from anything else, apart from Brian's meeting him coming out +of my rooms, it supplies an additional cause for anger on Brian's part." + +"I see," he answered. "I am much obliged to you, Miss Shaw. Believe +me that you have my sincere sympathy!" + +Peter Ruff's farewell words were unheard. Letty had fallen forward +in her chair, her head buried in her hands. + +Peter Ruff went to Berkeley Square and found Lady Mary waiting for him. +Sir William Trencham, the great solicitor, was with her. Lady Mary +introduced the two men. All the time she was anxiously watching Ruff's +face. + +"Mr. Ruff has been to see Miss Shaw," she explained to Sir William. +"Mr. Ruff, tell me quickly," she continued, with her hand upon his +shoulder, "did she say anything? Did you find anything out?" + +He shook his head. + +"No!" he said. "I found nothing out!" + +"You don't think, then," Lady Mary gasped, "that there is any chance + - of getting her to confess - that she did it herself?" + +"Why should she have done it herself?" Peter Ruff asked. "She admits +that the man tried to make love to her. She simply left him. She +was in her own home, with her mother and servant within call. There +was no struggle in the room - we know that. There was no necessity +for any." + +"Have you made any other enquiries?" Lady Mary asked. + +"The few which I have made," Peter Ruff answered gravely, "point all +in the same direction. I ascertained at the Milan that your brother +called there late last night, and that he heard Miss Shaw had been +supping alone with Austen Abbott. He followed them home. I have +ascertained, too, that he had a key to Miss Shaw's flat. He +apparently met Austen Abbott upon the threshold." + +Lady Mary covered her face with her hands. She seemed to read in +Ruff's words the verdict of the two men - the verdict of common +sense. Nevertheless, he made one more request before leaving. + +"I should like to see Captain Sotherst, if you can get me an order," +he said to Sir William. + +"You can go with me to-morrow morning," the lawyer answered. "The +proceedings this morning, of course, were simply formal. Until +after the inquest it will be easy to arrange an interview." + +Lady Mary looked up quickly. + +"There is still something in your mind, then?" she asked. "You +think that there is a bare chance?" + +"There is always the hundredth chance!" Peter Ruff replied. + +Peter Ruff and Miss Brown supped at the Milan that night as they had +arranged, but it was not a cheerful evening. Brian Sotherst had been +very popular among Letty Shaw's little circle of friends, and the +general feeling was one of horror and consternation at this thing +which had befallen him. Austen Abbot, too, was known to all of them, +and although a good many of the men - and even the women - were +outspoken enough to declare at once that it served him right, +nevertheless, the shock of death - death without a second's warning + - had a paralysing effect even upon those who were his severest +critics. Violet Brown spoke to a few of her friends - introduced +Peter Ruff here and there - but nothing was said which could throw +in any way even the glimmerings of a new light upon the tragedy. It +all seemed too hopelessly and fatally obvious. + +About twenty minutes before closing time, the habitues of the place +were provided with something in the nature of a sensation. A little +party entered who seemed altogether free from the general air of +gloom. Foremost among them was a very young and exceedingly pretty +girl, with light golden hair waved in front of her forehead, deep +blue eyes, and the slight, airy figure of a child. She was +accompanied by another young woman, whose appearance was a little +too obvious to be prepossessing, and three or four young men - dark, +clean-shaven, dressed with the irritating exactness of their class + - young stockbrokers or boys about town. Miss Brown's eyes grew +very wide open. + +"What a little beast!" she exclaimed. + +"Who?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"That pretty girl there," she answered - "Fluffy Dean her name is. +She is Letty Shaw's protege, and she wouldn't have dreamed of +allowing her to come out with a crowd like that. Tonight, of all +nights," she continued, indignantly, "when Letty is away!" + +Peter Ruff was interested. + +"So that is Miss Fluffy Dean," he remarked, looking at her +curiously. "She seems a little excited." + +"She's a horrid little wretch!" Miss Brown declared. "I hope that +some one will tell Letty, and that she will drop her now. A girl +who would do such a thing as that when Letty is in such trouble +isn't worth taking care of! Just listen to them all!" + +They were certainly becoming a little boisterous. A magnum of +champagne was being opened. Fluffy Dean's cheeks were already +flushed, and her eyes glittering. Every one at the table was +talking a great deal and drinking toasts. + +"This is the end of Fluffy Dean," Violet Brown said, severely. "I +hate to be uncharitable, but it serves her right." + +Peter Ruff paid his bill. + +"Let us go," he said. + +In the taxicab, on their way back to Miss Brown's rooms, Ruff was +unusually silent, but just before he said good night to her - on +the pavement, in fact, outside her front door - he asked a question. + +"Violet," he said, "would you like to play detective for an hour +or two?" + +She looked at him in some surprise. + +"You know I always like to help in anything that's going," she +said. + +"Letty Shaw was an Australian, wasn't she?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"She was born there, and lived there till she was nearly eighteen + - is that true?" he asked again. + +"Quite true," Miss Brown answered. + +"You know the offices of the P.& O. line of steamers in Pall Mall?" +he asked. + +She nodded. + +"Well?" + +"Get a sailing list to Australia - there should be a boat going +Thursday. Present yourself as a prospective passenger. See how +many young women alone there are going out, and ask their names. +Incidentally put in a little spare time watching the office." + +She looked at him with parted lips and wide-open eyes. + +"Do you think - " she began. + +He shook her hand warmly and stepped back into the taxicab. + +"Good night!" he said. "No questions, please. I sha'n't expect +you at the office at the usual time to-morrow, at any rate. +Telephone or run around if you've anything to tell me." + +The taxicab disappeared round the corner of the street. Miss Brown +was standing still upon the pavement with the latchkey in her hand. + + + + + +It was afternoon before the inquest on the body of Austen Abbott, +and there was gathered together in Letty Shaw's parlor a curiously +assorted little group of people. There was Miss Shaw herself - or +rather what seemed to be the ghost of herself - and her mother; +Lady Mary and Sir William Trencham; Peter Ruff and Violet Brown - +and Mr. John Dory. The eyes of all of them were fixed upon Peter +Ruff, who was the latest arrival. He stood in the middle of the +room, calmly taking off his gloves, and glancing complacently down +at his well-creased trousers. + +"Lady Mary," he said, "and Miss Shaw, I know that you are both +anxious for me to explain why I ask you to meet me here this +afternoon, and why I also requested my friend Mr. Dory from Scotland +Yard, who has charge of the case against Captain Sotherst, to be +present. I will tell you." + +Mr. Dory nodded, a little impatiently. + +"Unless you have something very definite to say," he remarked, "I +think it would be as well to postpone any general discussion of this +matter until after the inquest. I must warn you that so far as I, +personally, am concerned, I must absolutely decline to allude to +the subject at all. It would be most unprofessional." + +"I have something definite to say," Peter Ruff declared, mildly. + +Lady Mary's eyes flashed with hope - Letty Shaw leaned forward in +her chair with white, drawn face. + +"Let it be understood," Peter Ruff said, with a slight note of +gravity creeping into his tone, "that I am here solely as the agent +of Lady Mary Sotherst. I am paid and employed by her. My sole +object is on her behalf, therefore, to discover proof of the +innocence of Captain Sotherst. I take it, however," he added, +turning towards the drooping figure in the easy-chair, "that Miss +Shaw is as anxious to have the truth known." + +"Of course! Of course!" she murmured. + +"In France," Peter Ruff continued, "there is a somewhat curious +custom, which, despite a certain theatricality, yet has its points. +The scene of a crime is visited, and its events, so far as may be, +reconstructed. Let us suppose for a moment that we are now engaged +upon something of the sort." + +Letty Shaw shrank back in her chair. Her thin white fingers were +gripping its sides. Her eyes seemed to look upon terrible things. + +"It is too - awful!" she faltered. + +"Madam," Peter Ruff said, firmly, "we seek the truth. Be so good +as to humour me in this. Dory, will you go to the front door, +stand upon the mat - so? You are Captain Sotherst - you have just +entered. I am Austen Abbott. You, Miss Shaw, have just ordered me +from the room. You see, I move toward the door. I open it - so. +Miss Shaw," he added, turning swiftly towards her, "once more will +you assure me that every one who was in the flat that night, with +the exception of your domestic servant, is present now?" + +"Yes," she murmured. + +"Good! Then who," he asked, suddenly pointing to a door on the +left - "who is in that room?" + +They had all crowded after him to the threshold - thronging around +him as he stood face to face with John Dory. His finger never +wavered - it was pointing steadily towards that closed door a few +feet to the left. Suddenly Letty Shaw rushed past them with a +loud shriek. + +"You shall not go in!" she cried. "What business is it of his?" + +She stood with her back to the door, her arms outstretched like a +cross. Her cheeks were livid. Her eyes seemed starting from her +head. + +Peter Ruff and John Dory laid their hands upon the girl's wrists. +She clung to her place frantically. She was dragged from it, +screaming. Peter Ruff, as was his right, entered first. Almost +immediately he turned round, and his face was very grave. + +"Something has happened in here, I am afraid," he said. "Please +come in quietly." + +On the bed lay Fluffy Dean, fully dressed - motionless. One hand +hung down toward the floor - from the lifeless fingers a little +phial had slipped. The room was full of trunks addressed to - + + MISS SMITH, + Passenger to Melborne. + S.S. Caroline. + +Peter Ruff moved over toward the bed and took up a piece of paper, +upon which were scribbled a few lines in pencil. + +"I think," he said, "that I must read these aloud. You all have +a right to hear them." + +No one spoke. He continued: + + +Forgive me, Letty, but I cannot go to Australia. They would only +bring me back. When I remember that awful moment, my brain burns + - I feel that I am going mad! Some day I should do this - better +now. Give my love to the girls. + FLUFFY. + + +They sent for a doctor, and John Dory rang up Scotland Yard. Letty +Shaw had fainted, and had been carried to her room. While they +waited about in strange, half-benumbed excitement, Peter Ruff once +more spoke to them. + +"The reconstruction is easy enough now," he remarked. "The partition +between this sitting room and that little bedroom is only an +artificial one - something almost as flimsy as a screen. You see," +he continued, tapping with his knuckles, "you can almost put your +hand through it. If you look a little lower down, you will see +where an opening has been made. Fluffy Dean was being taken care +of by Miss Shaw - staying with her here, even. Miss Dean hears her +lover's voice in this room - hears him pleading with Miss Shaw on +he night of the murder. She has been sent home early from the +theatre, and it is just possible that she saw or had been told that +Austen Abbott had fetched Miss Shaw after the performance and had +taken her to supper. She was mad with anger and jealousy. The +revolver was there upon the table, with a silver box of cartridges. +She possessed herself of it and waited in her room. What she heard +proved, at least, her lover's infidelity. She stood there at her +door, waiting. When Austen Abbott comes out, she shoots, throws the +revolver at him, closes her door, and goes off into a faint. Perhaps +she hears footsteps - a key in the door. At any rate, Captain +Sotherst arrives a few minutes later. He finds, half in the hall, +half on the threshold of the sitting room, Austen Abbott dead, and +Miss Shaw's revolver by the side of him. If he had been a wise +young man, he would have aroused the household. Why he did not do +so, we can perhaps guess. He put two and two together a little +too quickly. It is certain that he believed that the dead man had +been shot by his fiancee. His first thought was to get rid of the +revolver. At any rate, he walked down to the street with it in +his hand, and was promptly arrested by the policeman who had heard +the shot. Naturally he refused to plead, because he believed that +Miss Shaw had killed the man, probably in self-defence. She, at +first, believed her lover guilty, and when afterwards Fluffy Dean +confessed, she, with feminine lack of common sense, was trying to +get the girl out of the country before telling the truth. A visit +of hers to the office of the steamship company gave me the clue I +required." + +Lady Mary grasped both his hands. + +"And Scotland Yard," she exclaimed, with a withering glance at Dory, +"have done their best to hang my brother!" + +Peter Ruff raised his eyebrows. + +"Dear Lady Mary," he said, "remember that it is the business of +Scotland Yard to find a man guilty. It is mine, when I am employed +for that purpose, to find him innocent. You must not be too hard +upon my friend Mr. Dory. He and I seem to come up against each +other a little too often, as it is." + +"A little too often!" John Dory repeated, softly. "But one cannot +tell. Don't believe, Lady Mary," he added, "that we ever want to +kill an innocent man." + +"It is your profession, though," she answered, "to find criminals + - and his," she added, touching Peter Ruff on the shoulder, "to +look for the truth." + +Peter Ruff bowed low - the compliment pleased him. + + + +CHAPTER V + +DELILAH FROM STREATHAM + + +It was a favourite theory with Peter Ruff that the morning papers +received very insufficient consideration from the majority of the +British public. A glance at the headlines and a few of the spiciest +paragraphs, a vague look at the leading article, and the sheets +were thrown away to make room for more interesting literature. It +was not so with Peter Ruff. Novels he very seldom read - he did not, +in fact, appreciate the necessity for their existence. The whole +epitome of modern life was, he argued, to be found among the columns +of the daily press. The police news, perhaps, was his favourite +study, but he did not neglect the advertisements. It followed, +therefore, as a matter of course, that the appeal of "M" in the +personal column of the Daily Mail was read by him on the morning of +its appearance - read not once only nor twice - it was a paragraph +which had its own peculiar interest for him. + +Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald, if still in England, is requested to +communicate with "M," at Vagali's Library, Cook's Alley, Ledham +Street, Soho. + + + +Peter Ruff laid the paper down upon his desk and looked steadily at +a box of India-rubber bands. Almost his fingers, as he parted with +the newspaper, had seemed to be shaking. His eyes were certainly +set in an unusually retrospective stare. Who was this who sought +to probe his past, to renew an acquaintance with a dead personality? +"M" could be but one person! What did she want of him? Was it +possible that, after all, a little flame of sentiment had been kept +alight in her bosom, too - that in the quiet moments her thoughts +had turned towards him as his had so often done to her? Then a +sudden idea - an ugly thought - drove the tenderness from his face. +She was no longer Maud Barnes - she was Mrs. John Dory, and John +Dory was his enemy! Could there be treachery lurking beneath those +simple lines? Things had not gone well with John Dory lately. +Somehow or other, his cases seemed to have crumpled into dust. He +was no longer held in the same esteem at headquarters. Yet could +even John Dory stoop to such means as these? + +He turned in his chair. + +"Miss Brown," he said, "please take your pencil." + +"I am quite ready, sir," she answered. + +He marked the advertisement with a ring and passed it to her. + +"Reply to that as follows," he said: + +DEAR SIR: + +I notice in the Daily Mail of this morning that you are enquiring +through the "personal" column for the whereabouts of Mr. Spencer +Fitzgerald. That gentleman has been a client of mine, and I have +been in occasional communication with him. If you will inform +me of the nature of your business, I may, perhaps, be able to put +you in touch with Mr. Fitzgerald. You will understand, however, +that, under the circumstances, I shall require proofs of your +good faith. + Truly yours, + PETER RUFF. + +Miss Brown glanced through the advertisement and closed her +notebook with a little snap. + +"Did you say - 'Dear Sir'?" she asked. + +"Certainly!" Peter Ruff answered. + +"And you really mean," she continued, with obvious disapproval, +"that I am to send this?" + +"I do not usually waste my time," Peter Ruff reminded her, mildly, +"by giving you down communications destined for the waste-paper +basket." + +She turned unwillingly to her machine. + +"Mr. Fitzgerald is very much better where he is," she remarked. + +"That depends," he answered. + +She adjusted a sheet of paper into her typewriter. + +"Who do you suppose 'M' is?" she asked. + +"With your assistance," Peter Ruff remarked, a little sarcastically + - "with your very kind assistance - I propose to find out!" + +Miss Brown sniffed, and banged at the keys of her typewriter. + +"That coal-dealer's girl from Streatham!" she murmured to herself.... + + + +A few politely worded letters were exchanged. "M" declined to +reveal her identity, but made an appointment to visit Mr. Ruff at +his office. The morning she was expected, he wore an entirely new +suit of clothes and was palpably nervous. Miss Brown, who had +arrived a little late, sat with her back turned upon him, and +ignored even his usual morning greeting. The atmosphere of the +office was decidedly chilly! Fortunately, the expected visitor +arrived early. + +Peter Ruff rose to receive his former sweetheart with an agitation +perforce concealed, yet to him poignant indeed. For it was indeed +Maud who entered the room and came towards him with carefully +studied embarrassment and half doubtfully extended hand. He did +not see the cheap millinery, the slightly more developed figure, the +passing of that insipid prettiness which had once charmed him into +the bloom of an over-early maturity. His eyes were blinded with +that sort of masculine chivalry - the heritage only of fools and +very clever men - which takes no note of such things. It was Miss +Brown who, from her place in a corner of the room, ran over the +cheap attractions of this unwelcome visitor with an expression of +scornful wonder - who understood the tinsel of her jewellery, the +cheap shoddiness of her ready-made gown; who appreciated, with +merciless judgment, her mincing speech, her cheap, flirtatious +method. + +Maud, with a diffidence not altogether assumed, had accepted the +chair which Peter Ruff had placed for her, and sat fidgeting, for +a moment, with the imitation gold purse which she was carrying. + +"I am sure, Mr. Ruff," she said, looking demurely into her lap, "I +ought not to have come here. I feel terribly guilty. It's such +an uncomfortable sort of position, too, isn't it?" + +"I am sorry that you find it so," Peter Ruff said. "If there is +anything I can do - " + +"You are very kind," she murmured, half raising her eyes to his and +dropping them again, "but, you see, we are perfect strangers to one +another. You don't know me at all, do you? And I have only heard +of you through the newspapers. You might think all sorts of things +about my coming here to make enquiries about a gentleman." + +"I can assure you," Peter Ruff said, sincerely, "that you need have +no fears - no fears at all. Just speak to me quite frankly. Mr. +Fitzgerald was a friend of yours, was he not?" + +Maud simpered. + +"He was more than that," she answered, looking down. "We were +engaged to be married." + +Peter Ruff sighed. + +"I knew all about it," he declared. "Fitzgerald used to tell me +everything." + +"You were his friend?" she asked, looking him in the face. + +"I was," Peter Ruff answered fervently, "his best friend! No one +was more grieved than I about that - little mistake." + +She sighed. + +"In some ways," she remarked softly, "you remind me of him." + +"You could scarcely say anything," Peter Ruff murmured "which would +give me more pleasure. I am flattered." + +She shook her head. + +"It isn't flattery," she said, "it's the truth. You may be a few +years older, and Spencer had a very nice moustache, which you +haven't, but you are really not unlike. Mr. Ruff, do tell me where + he is!" + +Peter Ruff coughed. + +"You must remember," he said, "that Mr. Fitzgerald's absence was +caused by events of a somewhat unfortunate character." + +"I know all about it," she answered, with a little sigh. + +"You can appreciate the fact, therefore," Peter Ruff continued, +"that as his friend and well-wisher I can scarcely disclose his +whereabouts without his permission. Will you tell me exactly why +you want to meet him again?" + +She blushed - looked down and up again - betrayed, in fact, all +the signs of confusion which might have been expected from her. + +"Must I tell you that?" she asked. + +"You are married, are you not?" Peter Ruff asked, looking down at +her wedding ring. + +She bit her lip with vexation. What a fool she had been not to +take it off! + +"Yes! Well, no - that is to say - " + +"Never mind," Peter Ruff interrupted. "Please don't think that I +want to cross-examine you. I only asked these questions because I +have a sincere regard for Fitzgerald. I know how fond he was of +you, and I cannot see what there is to be gained, from his point +of view, by reopening old wounds." + +"I suppose, then," she remarked, looking at him in such a manner +that Miss Brown had to cover her mouth with her hands to prevent +her screaming out - "I suppose you are one of those who think it +a crime for a woman who is married even to want to see, for a few +moments, an old sweetheart?" + +"On the contrary," Peter Ruff answered, "as a bachelor, I have no +convictions of any sort upon the subject." + +She sighed. + +"I am glad of that," she said. + +"I am to understand, then," Peter Ruff remarked, "that your reason +for wishing to meet Mr. Fitzgerald again is purely a sentimental +one?" + +"I am afraid it is," she murmured; "I have thought of him so often +lately. He was such a dear!" she declared, with enthusiasm. + +"I have never been sufficiently thankful," she continued, "that he +got away that night. At the time, I was very angry, but often +since then I have wished that I could have passed out with him into +the fog and been lost - but I mustn't talk like this! Please don't +misunderstand me, Mr. Ruff. I am happily married - quite happily +married!" + +Peter Ruff sighed. + +"My friend Fitzgerald," he remarked, "will be glad to hear that." + +Maud fidgeted. It was not quite the effect she had intended to +produce! + +"Of course," she remarked, looking away with a pensive air, "one +has regrets." + +"Regrets!" Peter Ruff murmured. + +"Mr. Dory is not well off," she continued, "and I am afraid that I +am very fond of life and going about, and everything is so expensive +nowadays. Then I don't like his profession. I think it is hateful +to be always trying to catch people and put them in prison - don't +you, Mr. Ruff?" + +Peter Ruff smiled. + +"Naturally," he answered. "Your husband and I work from the opposite +poles of life. He is always seeking to make criminals of the people +whom I am always trying to prove worthy members of society." + +"How noble!" Maud exclaimed, clasping her hands and looking up at +him. "So much more remunerative, too, I should think," she added, +after a moment's pause. + +"Naturally," Peter Ruff admitted. "A private individual will pay +more to escape from the clutches of the law than the law will to +secure its victims. Scotland Yard expects them to come into its +arms automatically - regards them as a perquisite of its existence." + +"I wish my husband were in your profession, Mr. Ruff," Maud said, +with a sidelong glance of her blue eyes which she had always found so +effective upon her various admirers. "I am sure that I should be a +great deal fonder of him." + +Peter Ruff leaned forward in his chair. He, too, had expressive +eyes at times. + +"Madam," he said - and stopped. But Maud blushed, all the same. + +She looked down into her lap. + +"We are forgetting Mr. Fitzgerald," she murmured. + +Peter Ruff glanced up at the clock. + +"It is a long story," he said. "Are you in a hurry, Mrs. Dory? + +"Not at all," she assured him, "unless you want to close you office, +or anything. It must be nearly one o'clock." + +"I wonder," he asked, "if you would do me the honour of lunching +with me? We might go to the Prince's or the Carlton - whichever +you prefer. I will promise to talk about Mr. Fitzgerald all the +time." + +"Oh, I couldn't!" Maud declared, with a little gasp. "At least + - well, I'm sure I don't know!" + +"You have no engagement for luncheon?" Peter Ruff asked quietly. + +"Oh, no!" she answered; "but, you see, we live so quietly. I have +never been to one of those places. I'd love to go - but if we were +seen! Wouldn't people talk?" + +Peter Ruff smiled. Just the same dear, modest little thing! + +"I can assure you," he said, "that nothing whatever could be said +against our lunching together. People are not so strict nowadays, +you know, and a married lady has always a great deal of latitude." + +She looked up at him with a dazzling smile. + +"I'd simply love to go to Prince's!" she declared. + +"Cat!" Miss Brown murmured, as Peter Ruff and his client left the +room together. + +Peter Ruff returned from his luncheon in no very jubilant state of +mind. For some time he sat in his easy-chair, with his legs crossed +and his finger tips pressed close together, looking steadily into +space. Contrary to his usual custom, he did not smoke. Miss Brown +watched him from behind her machine. + +"Disenchanted?" she asked calmly. + +Peter Ruff did not reply for several moments. + +"I am afraid," he admitted, hesitatingly, "that marriage with John +Dory has - well, not had a beneficial effect. She allowed me, for +instance, to hold her hand in the cab! Maud would never have +permitted a stranger to take such a liberty in the old days." + +Miss Brown smiled curiously. + +"Is that all?" she asked. + +Peter Ruff felt that he was in the confessional. + +"She certainly did seem," he admitted, "to enjoy her champagne a +great deal, and she talked about her dull life at home a little +more, perhaps, than was discreet to one who was presumably a +stranger. She was curious, too, about dining out. Poor little +girl, though. Just fancy, John Dory has never taken her anywhere +but to Lyons' or an A B C, and the pit of a theatre!" + +"Which evening is it to be?" Miss Brown asked. + +"Something was said about Thursday," Peter Ruff admitted. + +"And her husband?" Miss Brown enquired. + +"He happens to be in Glasgow for a few days," Peter Ruff answered. + +Miss Brown looked at her employer steadily. She addressed him by +his Christian name, which was a thing she very seldom did in office +hours. + +"Peter," she said, "are you going to let that woman make a fool +of you?" + +He raised his eyebrows. + +"Go on," he said; "say anything you want to - only, if you please, +don't speak disrespectfully of Maud." + +"Hasn't it ever occurred to you at all," Miss Brown continued, +rising to her feet, "that this Maud, or whatever you want to call +her, may be playing a low-down game of her husband's? He hates you, +and he has vague suspicions. Can't you see that he is probably +making use of your infatuation for his common, middle-class little +wife, to try and get you to give yourself away? Can't you see it, +Peter? You are not going to tell me that you are so blind as all +that!" + +"I must admit," he answered with a sigh, "that, although I think +you go altogether too far, some suspicion of the sort has interfered +with my perfect enjoyment of the morning." + +Miss Brown drew a little breath of relief. After all, then, his +folly was not so consummate as it had seemed! + +"What are you going to do about it, then?" she asked. + +Peter Ruff coughed - he seemed in an unusually amenable frame of +mind, and submitted to cross-examination without murmur. + +"The subject of Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald," he remarked, "seemed, +somehow or other, to drop into the background during our luncheon. +I propose, therefore, to continue to offer to Mrs. John Dory my most +respectful admiration. If she accepts my friendship, and is +satisfied with it, so much the better. I must admit that it would +give me a great deal of pleasure to be her occasional companion - at +such times when her husband happens to be in Glasgow!" + +"And supposing," Miss Brown asked, "that this is not all she wants + - supposing, for instance, that she persists in her desire for +information concerning Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald?" + +"Then," Peter Ruff admitted, "I'm afraid that I must conclude that +her unchivalrous clod of a husband has indeed stooped to make a +fool of her." + +"And in that case," Miss Brown demanded, "what shall you do?" + +"I was just thinking that out," Peter Ruff said mildly, "when you +spoke...." + +The friendship of Peter Ruff with the wife of his enemy certainly +appeared to progress in most satisfactory fashion. The dinner and +visit to the theatre duly took place. Mr. Ruff was afterwards +permitted to offer a slight supper and to accompany his fair +companion a portion of the way home in a taxicab. She made several +half-hearted attempts to return to the subject of Spencer Fitzgerald, +but her companion had been able on each occasion to avoid the +subject. Whether or not she was the victim of her husband's guile, +there was no question about the reality of her enjoyment during the +evening. Ruff, when he remembered the flash of her eyes across the +table, the touch of her fingers in the taxi, was almost content to +believe her false to her truant lover. If only she had not been +married to John Dory, he realised, with a little sigh, that he might +have taught her to forget that such a person existed as Spencer +Fitzgerald, might have induced her to become Mrs. Peter Ruff! + +On their next meeting, however, Peter Ruff was forced to realise +that his secretary's instinct had not misled her. It was, alas, +no personal and sentimental regrets for her former lover which had +brought the fair Maud to his office. The pleasures of her evening + - they dined at Romano's and had a box at the Empire - were +insufficient this time to keep her from recurring continually to +the subject of her vanished lover. He tried strategy - jealousy +amongst other things. + +"Supposing," he said, as they sat quite close to one another in the +box during the interval, "supposing I were to induce our friend to +come to London - I imagine he would be fairly safe now if he kept +out of your husband's way - what would happen to me?" + +"You!" she murmured, glancing at him from behind her fan and then +dropping her eyes. + +"Certainly - me!" he continued. "Don't you think that I should be +doing myself a very ill turn if I brought you two together? I have +very few friends, and I cannot afford to lose one. I am quite sure +that you still care for him." + +She shook her head. + +"Not a scrap!" she declared. + +"Then why did you put that advertisement in the paper?" Ruff asked, +with smooth but swift directness. + +She was not quick enough to parry his question. He read the truth +in her disconcerted face. Knowing it now for a certainty, he +hastened to her aid. + +"Forgive me," he said, looking away. "I should not have asked that +question - it is not my business. I will write to Fitzgerald. I +will tell him that you want to see him, and that I think it would +be safe for him to come to London." + +Maud recovered herself quickly. She thanked him with her eyes as +well as her words. + +"And you needn't be jealous, really," she whispered behind her fan. +"I only want to see him once for a few minutes - to ask a question. +After that, I don't care what becomes of him." + +A poor sort of Delilah, really, with her flushed face, her too +elaborately coiffured hair with its ugly ornament, her ready-made +evening dress with its cheap attempts at smartness, her cleaned +gloves, indifferent shoes. But Peter Ruff thought otherwise. + +"You mean that, after I have found him for you, you will still come +out with me again sometimes?" he asked wistfully. + +"Of course!" she answered. "Whenever I can without John knowing," +she added, with an unpleasant little laugh. "If you only knew how +I loved the music and the theatres, and this sort of life! What a +good time your wife would have, Mr. Ruff!" she added archly. + +It was no joking matter with him. He had to remember that he was, +in effect, her tool, that she was making use of him, willing to +betray her former lover at her husband's bidding. It was enough to +make him, on his side, burn for revenge! Yet he put the thought +away from him with a shiver. She was still the woman he had loved + - she was still sacred to him! That night he pleaded an engagement, +and sent her home in a taxicab alone. + +John Dory, waiting patiently at home for his wife's return, felt a +certain uneasiness when she swept into their little sitting room in +all her cheap splendour, with flushed cheeks - an obvious air of +satisfaction with herself and disdain for her immediate surroundings. +John Dory was a commonplace looking man - the absence of his collar, +and his somewhat shabby carpet slippers, did not improve his +appearance. He had neglected to shave, and he was drinking beer. +At headquarters he was not considered quite the smart young officer +which he had once shown signs of becoming. He looked at his wife +with darkening face, and his wife, on her part, thought of Peter +Ruff in his immaculate evening clothes. + +"Well," he remarked, grumblingly, "you seem to find a good deal of +pleasure in this gadding about!" + +She threw her soiled fan on the table. + +"If I do," she answered, "you are not the one to sit there and +reproach me with it, are you?" + +"It's gone far enough, anyway," John Dory said. "It's gone further +than I meant it to go. Understand me, Maud - it's finished! I'll +find your old sweetheart for myself." + +She laughed heartily. + +"You needn't trouble," she answered, with a little toss of the head. +"I am not such a fool as you seem to think me. Mr. Ruff has made +an appointment with him." + +There was a change in John Dory's face. The man's eyes were bright + - they almost glittered. + +"You mean that your friend Mr. Ruff is going to produce Spencer +Fitzgerald?" he exclaimed. + +"He has promised to," she answered. "John," she declared, throwing +herself into an easy-chair, "I feel horrid about it. I wonder what +Mr. Ruff will think when he knows!" + +"You can feel how you like," John Dory answered bluntly, "so long as +I get the handcuffs on Spencer Fitzgerald's wrists!" + +She shuddered. She looked at her husband with distaste. + +"Don't talk about it!" she begged sharply. "It makes me feel the +meanest creature that ever crawled. I can't help feeling, too, +that Mr. Ruff will think me a wretch - quite the gentleman he's +been all the time! I never knew any one half so nice!" + +John Dory set down his empty glass. + +"I wonder," he said, looking at her thoughtfully, "what made him +take such a fancy to you! Rather sudden, wasn't it, eh?" + +Maud tossed her head. + +"I don't see anything so wonderful about that," she declared. + +"Listen to me, Maud," her husband said, rising to his feet. "You +aren't a fool - not quite. You've spent some time with Peter Ruff. +How much - think carefully - how much does he remind you of Spencer +Fitzgerald?" + +"Not at all," she answered promptly. "Why, he is years older, and +though Spencer was quite the gentleman, there's something about Mr. +Ruff, and the way he dresses and knows his way about - well, you can +tell he's been a gentleman all his life." + +John Dory's face fell. + +"Think again," he said. + +She shook her head. + +"Can't see any likeness," she declared. "He did remind me a little +of him just at first, though," she added, reflectively - "little +things he said, and sort of mannerisms. I've sort of lost sight of +them the last few times, though." + +"When is this meeting with Fitzgerald to come off?" John Dory asked +abruptly. + +She did not answer him at once. A low, triumphant smile had parted +her lips. + +"To-morrow night," she said; "he is to meet me in Mr. Ruff's office." + +"At what time?" John Dory asked. + +"At eight o'clock," she answered. "Mr. Ruff is keeping his office +open late on purpose. Spencer thinks that afterwards he is going +to take me out to dinner." + +"You are sure of this?" John Dory asked eagerly. "You are sure +that the man Ruff does not suspect you? You believe he means that +you shall meet Fitzgerald?" + +"I am sure of it," she answered. "He is even a little jealous," she +continued, with an affected laugh. "He told me - well, never mind!" + +"He told you what?" John Dory asked. + +She laughed. + +"Never you mind," she said. "I have done what you asked me anyway. +If Mr. Ruff had not found me an agreeable companion he would not +have bothered about getting Spencer to meet me. And now he's done +it," she added, "I do believe he's a little jealous." + +John Dory glared, but he said nothing. It seemed to him that his +hour of revenge was close at hand! + +It was the first occasion upon which words of this sort had passed +between Peter Ruff and his secretary. There was no denying the fact +that Miss Violet Brown was in a passion. It was an hour past the +time at which she usually left the office. For an hour she had +pleaded, and Peter Ruff remained unmoved. + +"You are a fool!" she cried to him at last. "I am a fool, too, that +I have ever wasted my thoughts and time upon you. Why can't I make +you see? In every other way, heaven knows, you are clever enough! +And yet there comes this vulgar, commonplace, tawdry little woman +from heaven knows where, and makes such a fool of you that you are +willing to fling away your career - to hold your wrists out for +John Dory's handcuffs!" + +"My dear Violet," Peter Ruff answered deprecatingly, "you really +worry me - you do indeed!" + +"Not half so much as you worry me," she declared. "Look at the +time. It's already past seven. At eight o'clock Mrs. Dory - your +Maud - is coming in here hoping to find her old sweetheart." + +"Why not?" he murmured. + +"Why not, indeed?" Miss Brown answered angrily. "Don't you know + - can't you believe - that close on her heels will come her +husband - that Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald, if ever he comes to life +in this room, will leave it between two policemen?" + +Peter Ruff sighed. + +"What a pessimist you are, my dear Violet!" he said. + +She came up to him and laid her hands upon his shoulders. + +"Peter," she said, "I will tell you something - I must! I am fond +of you, Peter. I always have been. Don't make me miserable if +there is no need for it. Tell me honestly - do you really believe +in this woman?" + +He removed her hands gently, and raised them to his lips. + +"My dear girl," he said, "I believe in every one until I find them +out. I look upon suspicion as a vice. But, at the same time," he +added, "there are always certain precautions which one takes." + +"What precautions can you take?" she cried. "Can you sit there and +make yourself invisible? John Dory is not a fool. The moment he +is in this room with the door closed behind him, it is the end." + +"We must hope not," Peter Ruff said cheerfully. "There are other +things which may happen, you know." + +She turned away from him a little drearily. + +"You do not mind if I stay?" she said. "I am not working to-night. +Perhaps, later on, I may be of use!" + +"As you will," he answered. "You will excuse me for a little time, +won't you? I have some preparations to make." + +She turned her head away from him. He left the room and ascended +the stairs to his own apartments. + +Eight o'clock was striking from St. Martin's Church when the door +of Peter Ruff's office was softly opened and closed again. A man +in a slouch hat and overcoat entered, and after feeling along the +wall for a moment, turned up the electric light. Violet Brown rose +from her place with a little sob. She stretched out her hand to him. + +"Peter!" she cried. "Peter!" + +"My name," the newcomer said calmly, "is Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald." + +"Oh, listen to me!" she begged. "There is still time, if you hurry. +Think how many clever men before you have been deceived by the +woman in whom they trusted. Please, please go! Hurry upstairs +and put those things away." + +"Madam," the newcomer said, "I am much obliged to you for your +interest, but I think that you are making a mistake. I have +come here to meet - " + +He stopped short. There was a soft knocking at the door. A stifled +scream broke from Violet Brown's lips. + +"It is too late!" she cried. "Peter! Peter!" + +She sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands. The +door was opened and Maud came in. When she saw who it was who sat +in Peter Ruff's place, she gave a little cry. Perhaps after all, +she had not believed that this thing would happen. + +"Spencer!" she cried, "Spencer! Have you really come back?" + +He held out his hands. + +"You are glad to see me?" he asked. + +She came slowly forward. The man rose from his place and came +towards her with outstretched hands. Then through the door came +John Dory, and one caught a glimpse of others behind him. + +"If my wife is not glad to see you, Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald," he +aid, in a tone from which he vainly tried to keep the note of +triumph, "I can assure you that I am. You slipped away from me +cleverly at Daisy Villa, but this time I think you will not find +it so easy." + +Maud shrank back, and her husband took her place. But Mr. Spencer +Fitzgerald looked upon them both as one who looks upon figures in +a dream. Miss Brown rose hurriedly from her seat. She came over +to him and thrust her arm through his. + +"Peter," she said, taking his hand in hers, "don't shoot. It isn't +worth while. You should have listened to me." + +The little man in the gold-rimmed spectacles looked at her, looked +at Mr. John Dory, looked at the woman who was shrinking back now +against the wall. + +"Really," he said, "this is the most extraordinary situation in +which I ever found myself!" + +"We will help you to realise it," John Dory cried, and the triumph +in his tone had swelled into a deeper note. "I came here to arrest +Mr. Fitzgerald, but I hear this young lady call you 'Peter.' +Perhaps this may be the solution - " + +The little man struck the table with the flat of his hand. + +"Come," he said, "this is getting a bit too thick. First of all + - you," he said, turning to Miss Brown - "my name is not Peter, +and I have no idea of shooting anybody. As for that lady against +the wall, I don't know her - never saw her before in my life. As +for you," he added, turning to John Dory, "you talk about +arresting me - what for?" + +Mr. John Dory smiled. + +"There is an old warrant," he said, "which I have in my pocket, but +I fancy that there are a few little things since then which we may +have to enquire into." + +"This beats me!" the little man declared. "Who do you think I am?" + +"Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald, to start with," John Dory said. "It seems +to me not impossible that we may find another pseudonym for you." + +"You can find as many as you like," the little man answered testily, +"but my name is James Fitzgerald, and I am an actor employed at the +Shaftesbury Theatre, as I can prove with the utmost ease. I never +called myself Spencer; nor, to my knowledge, was I ever called by +such a name. Nor, as I remarked before, have I ever seen any one of +you three people before with the exception of Miss Brown here, whom +I have seen on the stage." + +John Dory grunted. + +"It was Mr. Spencer Fitzgerald," he said, "a clerk in Howell & +Wilson's bookshop, who leapt out of the window of Daisy Villa two +years ago. It may be Mr. James Fitzgerald now. Gentlemen of your +profession have a knack of changing their names." + +"My profession's as good as yours, anyway!" the little man exclaimed. +"We aren't all fools in it! My friend Mr. Peter Ruff said to me that +there was a young lady whom I used to know who was anxious to meet me +again, and would I step around here about eight o'clock. Here I am, +and all I can say is, if that's the young lady, I never saw her +before in my life." + +There was a moment's breathless silence. Then the door was softly +opened. Violet Brown went staggering back like a woman who sees a +ghost. She bit her lips till the blood came. It was Peter Ruff who +stood looking in upon them - Peter Ruff, carefully dressed in evening +clothes, his silk hat at exactly the correct angle, his coat and +white kid gloves upon his arm. + +"Dear me," he said, "you don't seem to be getting on very well! +Mr. Dory," he added, with a note of surprise in his tone, "this is +indeed an unexpected pleasure!" + +The man who stood by the desk turned to him. The others were +stricken dumb. + +"Look here," he said, "there's some mistake. You told me to come +here at eight o'clock to meet a young lady whom I used to know. +Well, I never saw her before in my life," he added, pointing to Maud. +"There's a man there who wants to arrest me - Lord knows what for! +And here's Miss Brown, whom I have seen at the theatre several times +but who never condescended to speak to me before, telling me not to +shoot! What's it all about, Ruff? Is it a practical joke?" + + Peter Ruff laid down his coat and hat, and sat upon the table with +his hands in his pockets. + +"Is it possible," he said, "that I have made a mistake? Isn't your +second name Spencer?" + +The man shook his head. + +"My name is James Fitzgerald," he said. "I haven't missed a day at +the Shaftesbury Theatre for three years, as you can find out by +going round the corner. I never called myself Spencer, I was never +clerk in a bookshop, and I never saw that lady before in my life." + +Maud came out from her place against the wall, and leaned eagerly +forward. John Dory turned his head slowly towards his wife. A +sickening fear had arisen in his heart - gripped him by the throat. +Fooled once more, and by Peter Ruff! + +"It isn't Spencer!" Maud said huskily. "Mr. Ruff," she added, +turning to him, "you know very well that this is not the Mr. Spencer +Fitzgerald whom you promised to bring here to-night - Mr. Spencer +Fitzgerald to whom I was once engaged." + +Peter Ruff pointed to the figure of her husband. + +"Madam," he said, "my invitation did not include your husband." + +John Dory took a step forward, and laid his hands upon the shoulders +of the man who called himself Mr. James Fitzgerald. He looked into +his face long and carefully. Then he turned away, and, gripping his +wife by the arm, he passed out of the room. The door slammed behind +him. The sound of heavy footsteps was heard descending to the floor +below. + +Violet Brown crossed the room to where Peter Ruff was still sitting +with a queer look upon his face, and, gripping him by the shoulders, +shook him. + +"How dare you!" she exclaimed. "How dare you! Do you know that I +have nearly cried my eyes out?" + +Peter Ruff came back from the world into which, for the moment, his +thoughts had taken him. + +"Violet," he said, "you have known me for some years. You have +been my secretary for some months. If you choose still to take me +for a fool, I cannot help it." + +"But," she exclaimed, pointing to Mr. James Fitzgerald - + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"I have been practising on him for some time," he said, with an air +of self-satisfaction. + +"A thin, mobile face, you see, and plenty of experience in the art +of making up. It is astonishing what one can do if one tries." + +Mr. James Fitzgerald picked up his hat and coat. + +"It was worth more than five quid," he growled; "when I saw the +handcuffs in that fellow's hand, I felt a cold shiver go down +my spine." + +Peter Ruff counted out two banknotes and passed them to his +confederate. + +"You have earned the money," he said. "Go and spend it. Perhaps, +Violet," he added, turning towards her, "I have been a little +inconsiderate. Come and have dinner with me, and forget it." + +She drew a little sigh. + +"You are sure," she murmured, "that you wouldn't rather take Maud?" + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE LITTLE LADY FROM SERVIA + + +Westward sped the little electric brougham, driven without regard +to police regulations or any rule of the road: silent and swift, +wholly regardless of other vehicles - as though, indeed, its +occupants were assuming to themselves the rights of Royalty. Inside, +Peter Ruff, a little breathless, was leaning forward, tying his white +cravat with the aid of the little polished mirror set in the middle +of the dark green cushions. At his right hand was Lady Mary, +watching his proceedings with an air of agonised impatience. + +"Let me tell you - " she begged. + +"Kindly wait till I have tied this and put my studs in," Peter Ruff +interrupted. "It is impossible for me to arrive at a ball in this +condition, and I cannot give my whole attention to more than one +thing at a time." + +"We shall be there in five minutes!" she exclaimed. "What is the +good, unless you understand, of your coming at all?" + +Peter Ruff surveyed his tie critically. Fortunately, it pleased him. +He began to press the studs into their places with firm fingers. +Around them surged the traffic of Piccadilly; in front, the gleaming +arc of lights around Hyde Park Corner. They had several narrow +escapes. Once the brougham swayed dangerously as they cut in on the +wrong side of an island lamp-post. A policeman shouted after them, +another held up his hand - the driver of the brougham took no notice. + +"I am ready," Peter Ruff said, quietly. + +"My younger brother - Maurice," she began, breathlessly - "you've +never met him, I know, but you've heard me speak of him. He is +private secretary to Sir James Wentley - " + +"Minister for Foreign Affairs?" Ruff asked, swiftly. + +"Yes! Maurice wants to go in for the Diplomatic Service. He is a +dear, and so clever!" + +"Is it Maurice who is in trouble?" Peter Ruff asked. "Why didn't +he come himself?" + +"I am trying to explain," Lady Mary protested. "This afternoon he +had an important paper to turn into cipher and hand over to the +Prime Minister at the Duchess of Montford's dance to-night. The +Prime Minister will arrive in a motor car from the country at about +two o'clock, and the first thing he will ask for will be that paper. +It has been stolen!" + +"At what time did your brother finish copying it, and when did he +discover its loss?" Ruff asked, with a slight air of weariness. +These preliminary enquiries always bored him. + +"He finished it in his own rooms at half-past seven," Lady Mary +answered. "He discovered its loss at eleven o'clock - directly he +had arrived at the ball." + +"Why didn't he come to me himself?" Peter Ruff asked. "I like to +have these particulars at first hand." + +"He is in attendance upon Sir James at the ball," Lady Mary answered. +"There is trouble in the East, as you know, and Sir James is +expecting dispatches to-night. Maurice is not allowed to leave." + +"Has he told Sir James yet?" + +"He had not when I left," Lady Mary answered. "If he is forced to +do so, it will be ruin! Mr. Ruff, you must help us Maurice is such +a dear, but a mistake like this, at the very beginning of his career, +would be fatal. Here we are. That is my brother waiting just +inside the hall." + +A young man came up to them in the vestibule. He was somewhat +pale, but otherwise perfectly self-possessed. From the shine of +his glossy black hair to the tips of his patent boots he was, in +appearance, everything that a young Englishman of birth and athletic +tastes could hope to be. Peter Ruff liked the look of him. He +waited for no introduction, but laid his hand at once upon the young +man's shoulder. + +"Between seven-thirty and arriving here," he said, drawing him on +one side - "quick! Tell me, whom did you see? What opportunities +were there of stealing the paper, and by whom?" + +"I finished it at five and twenty past seven," the young man said, +"sealed it in an official envelope, and stood it up on my desk by +the side of my coat and hat and muffler, which my servant had laid +there, ready for me to put on. My bedroom opens out from my sitting +room. While I was dressing, two men called for me - Paul Jermyn and +Count von Hern. They walked through to my bedroom first, and then +sat together in the sitting room until I came out. The door was +wide open, and we talked all the time." + +"They called accidentally?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"No - by appointment," the young man replied. "We were all coming +on here to the dance, and we had agreed to dine together first at +the Savoy." + +"You say that you left the paper on your desk with your coat and +hat?" Peter Ruff asked. "Was it there when you came out?" + +"Apparently so," the young man answered. "It seemed to be standing +in exactly the same place as where I had left it. I put it into my +breast pocket, and it was only when I arrived here that I fancied +the envelope seemed lighter. I went off by myself and tore it open. +There was nothing inside but half a newspaper!" + +"What about the envelope?" Peter Ruff asked. "That must have been +the same sort of one as you had used or you would have noticed it?" + +"It was," the Honorable Maurice answered. + +"It was a sort which you kept in your room?" + +"Yes!" the young man admitted. + +"The packet was changed, then, by some one in your room, or some +one who had access to it," Peter Ruff said. "How about your servant?" + +"It was his evening off. I let him put out my things and go at +seven o'clock." + +"You must tell me the nature of the contents of the packet," Peter +Ruff declared. "Don't hesitate. You must do it. Remember the +alternative." + +The young man did hesitate for several moments, but a glance into +his sister's appealing face decided him. + +"It was our official reply to a secret communication from Russia +respecting - a certain matter in the Balkans." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"Where is Count von Hern?" he asked abruptly. + +"Inside, dancing." + +"I must use a telephone at once," Peter Ruff said. "Ask one of the +servants here where I can find one." + +Peter Ruff was conducted to a gloomy waiting room, on the table of +which stood a small telephone instrument. He closed the door, but +he was absent for only a few minutes. When he rejoined Lady Mary +and her brother they were talking together in agitated whispers. +The latter turned towards him at once. + +"Do you mean that you suspect Count von Hern?" he asked, doubtfully. +"He is a friend of the Danish Minister's, and every one says that +he's such a good chap. He doesn't seem to take the slightest +interest in politics - spends nearly all his time hunting or playing +polo." + +"I don't suspect any one," Peter Ruff answered. "I only know that +Count von Hern is an Austrian spy, and that he took your paper! Has +he been out of your sight at all since you rejoined him in the +sitting room? I mean to say - had he any opportunity of leaving you +during the time you were dining together, or did he make any calls +en route, either on the way to the Savoy or from the Savoy here?" + +The young man shook his head. + +"He has not been out of my sight for a second." + +"Who is the other man - Jermyn?" Peter Ruff asked. "I never heard +of him." + +"An American - cousin of the Duchess. He could not have had the +slightest interest in the affair." + +"Please take me into the ballroom," Peter Ruff said to Lady Mary. +"Your brother had better not come with us. I want to be as near +the Count von Hern as possible." + +They passed into the crowded rooms, unnoticed, purposely avoiding +the little space where the Duchess was still receiving the late +comers among her guests. They found progress difficult, and Lady +Mary felt her heart sink as she glanced at the little jewelled +watch which hung from her wrist. Suddenly Peter Ruff came to a +standstill. + +"Don't look for a moment," he said, "but tell me as soon as you can +- who is that tall young man, like a Goliath, talking to the little +dark woman? You see whom I mean?" + +Lady Mary nodded, and they passed on. In a moment or two she +answered him. + +"How strange that you should ask!" she whispered in his ear. "That +is Mr. Jermyn." + +They were on the outskirts now of the ballroom itself. One of Lady +Mary's partners came up with an open programme and a face full of +reproach. + +"Do please forgive me, Captain Henderson," Lady Mary begged. "I +have hurt my foot, and I am not dancing any more." + +"But surely I was to take you in to supper?" the young officer +protested, good-humouredly. "Don't tell me that you are going to +cut that?" + +"I am going to cut everything to-night with everybody," Lady Mary +said. "Please forgive me. Come to tea to-morrow and I'll explain." + +The young man bowed, and, with a curious glance at Ruff, accepted +his dismissal. Another partner was simply waved away. + +"Please turn round and come back," Peter Ruff said. "I want to see +those two again." + +"But we haven't found Count von Hern yet," she protested. "Surely +that is more important, is it not? I believe that I saw him dancing +just now - there, with the tall girl in yellow." + +"Never mind about him, for the moment," Ruff answered. "Walk down +this corridor with me. Do you mind talking all the time, please? +It will sound more natural, and I want to listen." + +The young American and his partner had found a more retired seat +now, about three quarters of the way down the pillared vestibule +which bordered the ballroom. He was bending over his companion +with an air of unmistakable devotion, but it was she who talked. +She seemed, indeed, to have a good deal to say to him. The slim +white fingers of one hand played all the time with a string of +magnificent pearls. Her dark, soft eyes - black as aloes and +absolutely un-English - flashed into his. A delightful smile +hovered at the corners of her lips. All the time she was talking +and he was listening. Lady Mary and her partner passed by unnoticed. +At the end of the vestibule they turned and retraced their steps. +Peter Ruff was very quiet - he had caught a few of those rapid words. +But the woman's foreign accent had troubled him. + +"If only she would speak in her own language!" he muttered. + +Lady Mary's hand suddenly tightened upon his arm. + +"Look!" she exclaimed. "That is Count von Hern!" + +A tall, fair young man, very exact in his dress, very stiff in his +carriage, with a not unpleasant face, was standing talking to Jermyn +and his companion. Jermyn, who apparently found the intrusion an +annoyance, was listening to the conversation between the two, with +a frown upon his face and a general attitude of irritation. As Lady +Mary and her escort drew near, the reason for the young American's +annoyance became clearer - his two companions were talking softly, +but with great animation, in a foreign language, which it was obvious +that he did not understand. Peter Ruff's elbow pressed against his +partner's arm, and their pace slackened. He ventured, even, to pause +for a moment, looking into the ballroom as though in search of some +one, and he had by no means the appearance of a man likely to +understand Hungarian. Then, to Lady Mary's surprise, he touched the +Count von Hern on the shoulder and addressed him. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but I fancy that we accidentally +exchanged programmes, a few minutes ago, at the buffet. I have lost +mine and picked up one which does not belong to me. As we were +standing side by side, it is possibly yours." + +"I believe not, sir," he answered, with that pleasant smile which +had gone such a long way toward winning him the reputation of being +"a good fellow" amongst a fairly large circle of friends. "I believe +at any rate," he added, glancing at his programme, "that this is my +own. You mistake me, probably, for some one else." + +Peter Ruff, without saying a word, was actor enough to suggest that +he was unconvinced. The Count good-humouredly held out his programme. + +"You shall see for yourself," he remarked. "That is not yours, is +it? Besides, I have not been to the buffet at all this evening." + +Peter Ruff cast a swift glance down the programme which the Count +had handed him. Then he apologised profusely. + +"I was mistaken," he admitted. "I am very sorry." + +The Count bowed. + +"It is of no consequence, sir," he said, and resumed his +conversation. + +Peter Ruff passed on with Lady Mary. At a safe distance, she +glanced at him enquiringly. + +"It was his programme I wanted to see," Peter Ruff explained. "It +is as I thought. He has had four dances with the Countess - " + +"Who is she?" Lady Mary asked, quickly. + +"The little dark lady with whom he is talking now," Peter Ruff +continued. "He seems, too, to be going early. He has no dances +reserved after the twelfth. We will go downstairs at once, if you +please. I must speak to your brother." + +"Have you been able to think of anything?" she asked, anxiously. +"Is there any chance at all, do you think?" + +"I believe so," Peter Ruff answered. "It is most interesting. +Don't be too sanguine, though. The odds are against us, and the +time is very short. Is the driver of your electric brougham to be +trusted?" + +"Absolutely," she assured him. "He is an old servant." + +"Will you lend him to me?" Peter Ruff asked, "and tell him that he +is to obey my instructions absolutely?" + +"Of course," she answered. "You are going away, then?" + +Peter Ruff nodded. He was a little sparing of words just then. The +thoughts were chasing one another through his brain. He was +listening, too, for the sweep of a dress behind. + +"Is there nothing I can do?" Lady Mary begged, eagerly. + +Peter Ruff shook his head. In the distance he saw the Honourable +Maurice come quickly toward them. With a firm but imperceptible +gesture he waved him away. + +"Don't let your brother speak to me," he said. "We can't tell who +is behind. What time did you say the Prime Minister was expected?" + +"At two o'clock," Lady Mary said, anxiously. + +Peter Ruff glanced at his watch. It was already half an hour past +midnight. + +"Very well," he said, "I will do what I can. If my theory is wrong, +it will be nothing. If I am right - well, there is a chance, +anyhow. In the meantime - " + +"In the meantime?" she repeated, breathlessly. + +"Take your brother back to the ballroom," Peter Ruff directed. +"Make him dance - dance yourself. Don't give yourselves away by +looking anxious. When the time is short - say at a quarter to two + - he can come down here and wait for me." + +"If you don't come!" she exclaimed. + +"Then we shall have lost," Peter Ruff said, calmly. "If you don't +see me again to-night, you had better read the newspapers carefully +for the next few days." + +"You are going to do something dangerous!" she protested. + +"There is danger in interfering at all in such a matter as this," +he answered, "but you must remember that it is not only my profession + - it is my hobby. Remember, too," he added, with a smile, "that I +do not often lose!" + +For twenty minutes Peter Ruff sat in the remote corner of Lady Mary's +electric brougham, drawn up at the other side of the Square, and +waited. At last he pressed a button. They glided off. Before them +was a large, closed motor car. They started in discreet chase. + +Fortunately, however, the chase was not a long one. The car which +Peter Ruff had been following was drawn up before a plain, +solid-looking house, unlit and of gloomy appearance. The little +lady with the wonderful eyes was already halfway up the flagged +steps. Hastily lifting the flap and looking behind as they passed, +her pursuer saw her open the door with a latchkey, and disappear. +Peter Ruff pulled the check-string and descended. For several +moments he stood and observed the house into which the lady whom +he had been following had disappeared. Then he turned to the driver. + +"I want you to watch that house," he said, "never to take your eyes +off it. When I reappear from it, if I do at all, I shall probably +be in a hurry. Directly you see me be on your box ready to start. +A good deal may depend upon our getting away quickly." + +"Very good, sir," the man answered. "How long am I to wait here for +you?" + +Peter Ruff's lips twisted into a curious little smile. + +"Until two o'clock," he answered. "If I am not out by then, you +needn't bother any more about me. You can return and tell your +mistress exactly what has happened." + +"Hadn't I better come and try and get you out, sir?" the man asked. +"Begging your pardon, but her Ladyship told me that there might be +queer doings. I'm a bit useful in a scrap, sir," he added. "I do +a bit of sparring regularly." + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"If there's any scrap at all," he said, "you had better be out of +it. Do as I have said." + +The motor car had turned round and disappeared now, and in a few +moments Peter Ruff stood before the door of the house into which +the little lady had disappeared. The problem of entrance was +already solved for him. The door had been left unlatched; only a +footstool had been placed against it inside. Peter Ruff, without +hesitation, pushed the door softly open and entered, replaced the +footstool in its former position, and stood with his back to the +wall, in the darkest corner of the hall, looking around him - +listening intently. Nearly opposite the door of a room stood ajar. +It was apparently lit up, but there was no sound of any one moving +inside. Upstairs, in one of the rooms on the first floor, he could +hear light footsteps - a woman's voice humming a song. He listened +to the first few bars, and understanding became easier. Those first +few bars were the opening ones of the Servian national anthem! + +With an effort, Peter Ruff concentrated his thoughts upon the +immediate present. The little lady was upstairs. The servants had +apparently retired for the night. He crept up to the half-open door +and peered in. The room, as he had hoped to find it, was empty, but +Madame's easy-chair was drawn up to the fire, and some coffee stood +upon the hob. Stealthily Peter Ruff crept in and glanced around, +seeking for a hiding place. A movement upstairs hastened his +decision. He pushed aside the massive curtains which separated this +from a connecting room. He had scarcely done so when light footsteps +were heard descending the stairs. + +Peter Ruff found his hiding place all that could have been desired. +This secondary room itself was almost in darkness, but he was just +able to appreciate the comforting fact that it possessed a separate +exit into the hall. Through the folds of the curtain he had a +complete view of the further apartment. The little lady had changed +her gown of stiff white satin for one of flimsier material, and, +seated in the easy-chair, she was busy pouring herself out some +coffee. She took a cigarette from a silver box, and lighting it, +curled herself up in the chair and composed herself as though to +listen. To her as well as to Peter Ruff, as he crouched in his +hiding place, the moments seemed to pass slowly enough. Yet, as he +realised afterward, it could not have been ten minutes before she sat +upright in a listening attitude. There was some one coming! Peter +Ruff, too, heard a man's firm footsteps come up the flagged stones. + +The little lady sprang to her feet. + +"Paul!" she exclaimed. + +Paul Jermyn came slowly to meet her. He seemed a little out of +breath. His tie was all disarranged and his collar unfastened. + +The little lady, however, noticed none of these things. She looked +only into his face. + +"Have you got it?" she asked, eagerly. + +He thrust his hand into his breast-coat pocket, and held an +envelope out toward her. + +"Sure!" he answered. "I promised!" + +She gave a little sob, and with the packet in her hand came running +straight toward the spot where Peter Ruff was hiding. + +He shrank back as far as possible. She stopped just short of the +curtain, opened the drawer of a table which stood there, and slipped +the packet in. Then she came back once more to where Paul Jermyn +was standing. + +"My friend!" she cried, holding out her hands - "my dear, dear +friend! Shall I ever be able to thank you enough?" + +"Why, if you try," he answered, smiling, "I think that you could!" + +She laid her hand upon his arm - a little caressing, foreign gesture. + +"Tell me," she said, "how did you manage it?" + +"We left the dance together," Jermyn said. "I could see that he +wanted to get rid of me, but I offered to take him in my motor car. +I told the man to choose some back streets, and while we were passing +through one of them, I took Von Hern by the throat. We had a +struggle, of course, but I got the paper." + +"What did you do with Von Hern?" she asked. + +"I left him on his doorstep," the young American answered. "He +wasn't really hurt, but he was only half conscious. I don't think +he'll bother any one to-night." + +"You dear, brave man!" she murmured. "Paul, what am I to say to +you?" + +He laughed. + +"That's what I'm here to ask," he declared. "You wouldn't give me +my answer at the ball. Perhaps you'll give it me now?" + +They sprang apart. Ruff felt his nerves stiffen - felt himself +constrained to hold even his breath as he widened a little the +crack in the curtains. This was no stealthy entrance. The door +had been flung open. Von Hern, his dress in wild disorder, pale +as a ghost, and with a great bloodstain upon his cheek, stood +confronting them. + +"When you have done with your love-making," he called out, "I'll +trouble you to restore my property!" + +The electric light gleamed upon a small revolver which flashed +out toward the young American. Paul Jermyn never hesitated for a +moment. He seized the chair by his side and flung it at Von Hern. +There was a shot, the crash of the falling chair, a cry from Jermyn, +who never hesitated, however, in his rush. The two men closed. A +second shot went harmlessly to the ceiling. The little lady stole +away - stole softly across the room toward the table. She opened +the drawer. Suddenly the blood in her veins was frozen into fear. +From nowhere, it seemed to her, came a hand which held her wrists +like iron! + +"Madam," Peter Ruff whispered from behind the curtain, "I am sorry +to deprive you of it, but this is stolen property." + +Her screams rang through the room. Even the two men released one +another. + +"It is gone! It is gone!" she cried. "Some one was hiding in the +room! Quick!" + +She sprang into the hall. The two men followed her. The front door +was slammed. They heard flying footsteps outside. Von Hern was out +first, clearing the little flight of steps in one bound. Across the +road he saw a flying figure. A level stream of fire poured from his +hand - twice, three times. But Peter Ruff never faltered. Round the +corner he tore. The man had kept his word - the brougham was already +moving slowly. + +"Jump in, sir," the man cried. "Throw yourself in. Never mind about +the door." + +They heard the shouts behind. Peter Ruff did as he was bid, and sat +upon the floor, raising himself gradually to the seat when they had +turned another corner. Then he put his head out of the window. + +"Back to the Duchess of Montford's!" he ordered. + +The latest of the guests had ceased to arrive - a few were already +departing. It was an idle time, however, with the servants who +loitered in the vestibules of Montford House, and they looked with +curiosity upon this strange guest who arrived at five minutes to two, +limping a little, and holding his left arm in his right hand. One +footman on the threshold nearly addressed him, but the words were +taken out of his mouth when he saw Lady Mary and her brother - the +Honorable Maurice Sotherst - hasten forward to greet him. + +Peter Ruff smiled upon them benignly. + +"You can take the paper out of my breast-coat pocket," he said. + +The young man's fingers gripped it. Through Lady Mary's great +thankfulness, however, the sudden fear came shivering. + +"You are hurt!" she whispered. "There is blood on your sleeve." + +"Just a graze," Peter Ruff answered. "Von Hern wasn't much good +at a running target. Back to the ballroom, young man," he added. +"Don't you see who's coming?" + +The Prime Minister came up the tented way into Montford House. He, +too, wondered a little at the man whom he met on his way out, holding +his left arm, and looking more as though he had emerged from a street +fight than from the Duchess of Montford's ball. Peter Ruff went home +smiling. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE DEMAND OF THE DOUBLE-FOUR + + +It was about this time that Peter Ruff found among his letters one +morning a highly-scented little missive, addressed to him in a +handwriting with which he had once been familiar. He looked at it +for several moments before opening it. Even as the paper cutter +slid through the top of the envelope, he felt that he had already +divined the nature of its contents. + + FRIVOLITY THEATRE + March 10th +MY DEAR Mr. RUFF: +I expect that you will be surprised to hear from me again, but +I do hope that you will not be annoyed. I know that I behaved +very horridly a little time ago, but it was not altogether my +fault, and I have been more sorry for it than I can tell you - +in fact, John and I have never been the same since, and for the +present, at any rate, I have left him and gone on the stage. A +lady whom I knew got me a place in the chorus here, and so far +I like it immensely. + +Won't you come and meet me after the show to-morrow night, and +I will tell you all about it? I should like so much to see you +again. + MAUD. + +Peter Ruff placed this letter in his breast-coat pocket, and +withheld it from his secretary's notice. He felt, however, very +little pleasure at the invitation it conveyed. He hesitated for +some time, in fact, whether to accept it or not. Finally, after +his modest dinner that evening, he bought a stall for the +Frivolity and watched the piece. The girl he had come to see was +there in the second row of the chorus, but she certainly did not +look her best in the somewhat scant costume required by the part. +She showed no signs whatever of any special ability - neither her +dancing nor her singing seemed to entitle her to any consideration. +She carried herself with a certain amount of self-consciousness, +and her eyes seemed perpetually fixed upon the occupants of the +stalls. Peter Ruff laid down his glasses with something between +a sigh and a groan. There was something to him inexpressibly sad +in the sight of his old sweetheart so transformed, so utterly +changed from the prim, somewhat genteel young person who had +accepted his modest advances with such ladylike diffidence. She +seemed, indeed, to have lost those very gifts which had first +attracted him. Nevertheless, he kept his appointment at the +stage-door. + +She was among the first to come out, and she greeted him warmly + - almost noisily. With her new profession, she seemed to have +adopted a different and certainly more flamboyant deportment. + +"I thought you'd come to-night," she declared, with an arch look. +"I felt certain I saw you in the stalls. You are going to take +me to supper, aren't you? Shall we go to the Milan?" + +Peter Ruff assented without enthusiasm, handed her into a hansom, +and took his place beside her. She wore a very large hat, untidily +put on; some of the paint seemed still to be upon her face; her +voice, too, seemed to have become louder, and her manner more +assertive. There were obvious indications that she no longer +considered brandy and soda an unladylike beverage. Peter Ruff was +not pleased with himself or proud of his companion. + +"You'll take some wine?" he suggested, after he had ordered, with +a few hints from her, a somewhat extensive supper. + +"Champagne," she answered, decidedly. "I've got quite used to it, +nowadays," she went on. "I could laugh to think how strange it +tasted when you first took me out." + +"Tell me," Peter Ruff said, "why you have left your husband?" + +She laughed. + +"Because he was dull and because he was cross," she answered, "and +because the life down at Streatham was simply intolerable. I think +it was a little your fault, too," she said, making eyes; at him +across the table. "You gave me a taste of what life was like outside +Streatham, and I never forgot it." + +Peter Ruff did not respond - he led the conversation, indeed, into +other channels. On the whole, the supper was scarcely a success. +Maud, who was growing to consider herself something of a Bohemian, +and who certainly looked for some touch of sentiment on the part of +her old admirer, was annoyed by the quiet deference with which he +treated her. She reproached him with it once, bluntly. + +"Say," she exclaimed, "you don't seem to want to be so friendly as +you did! You haven't forgiven me yet, I suppose?" + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"It is not that," he said, "but I think that you have scarcely done +a wise thing in leaving your husband. I cannot think that this +life on the stage is good for you." + +She laughed, scornfully. + +"Well," she said, "I never thought to have you preaching at me!" + +They finished their supper. Maud accepted a cigarette and did her +best to change her companion's mood. She only alluded once more +to her husband. + +"I don't see how I could have stayed with him, anyhow," she said. +"You know, he's been put back - he only gets two pounds fifteen a +week now. He couldn't expect me to live upon that." + +"Put back?" Peter Ruff repeated. + +She nodded. + +"He seemed to have a lot of bad luck this last year," she said. +"All his cases went wrong, and they don't think so much of him at +Scotland Yard as they did. I am not sure that he hasn't begun +to drink a little." + +"I am sorry to hear it," Peter Ruff said, gravely. + +"I don't see why you should be," she answered, bluntly. "He was no +friend of yours, nor isn't now. He may not be so dangerous as he +was, but if ever you come across him, you take my tip and be careful. +He means to do you a mischief some day, if he can. I am not sure," +she added, "that he doesn't believe that it was partly your fault +about my leaving home." + +"I should be sorry for him to think that," Peter Ruff answered. +"While we are upon the subject, can't you tell me exactly why your +husband dislikes me so?" + +"For one thing, because you have been up against him in several of +his cases, and have always won." + +"And for the other?" + +"Well," she said, doubtfully, "he seems to connect you in his mind, +somehow, with a boy who was in love with me once - Mr. Spencer +Fitzgerald - you know who I mean." + +Ruff nodded. + +"He still has that in his mind, has he?" he remarked. + +"Oh, he's mad!" she declared. "However, don't let us talk about +him any more." + +The lights were being put out. Peter Ruff paid his bill and they +rose together. + +"Come down to the fiat for an hour or so," she begged, taking his +arm. "I have a dear little place with another girl - Carrie Pearce. +I'll sing to you, if you like. Come down and have one drink, anyhow." + +Peter Ruff shook his head firmly. + +"I am sorry," he said, "but you must excuse me. In some ways, I +am very old-fashioned," he added. "I never sit up late, and I +hate music." + +"Just drive as far as the door with me, then," she begged. + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"You must excuse me," he said, handing her into the hansom. "And, +Maud," he added - "if I may call you so - take my advice: give it +up - go back to your husband and stick to him - you'll be better +off in the long run." + +She would have answered him scornfully, but there was something +impressive in the crisp, clear words - in his expression, too, as +he looked into her eyes. She threw herself back in a corner of the +cab with an affected little laugh, and turned her head away from +him. + +Peter Ruff walked back into the cloak-room for his coat and hat, +and sighed softly to himself. It was the end of the one sentimental +episode of his life! + +It had been the study of Peter Ruff's life, so far as possible, to +maintain under all circumstances an equable temperament, to refuse +to recognize the meaning of the word "nerves," and to be guided in +all his actions by that profound common sense which was one of his +natural gifts. Yet there were times when, like any other ordinary +person, he suffered acutely from presentiments. He left his rooms, +for instance, at five o'clock on the afternoon of the day following +his supper with Maud, suffering from a sense of depression for which +he found it altogether impossible to account. It was true that the +letter which he had in his pocket, the appointment which he was on +his way to keep, were both of them probable sources of embarrassment +and annoyance, if not of danger. He was being invited, without the +option of refusal, to enter upon some risky undertaking which would +yield him neither fee nor reward. Yet his common sense told him +that it was part of the game. In Paris, he had looked upon his +admittance into the order of the "Double-Four" as one of the +stepping-stones to success in his career. Through them he had +gained knowledge which he could have acquired in no other way. +Through them, for instance, he had acquired the information that +Madame la Comtesse de Pilitz was a Servian patriot and a friend of +the Crown Prince; and that the Count von Hern, posing in England as +a sportsman and an idler, was a highly paid and dangerous Austrian +spy. There had been other occasions, too, upon which they had come +to his aid. Now they had made an appeal to him - an appeal which +must be obeyed. His time - perhaps, even, his safety - must be +placed entirely at their disposal. It was only an ordinary return +a thing expected of him - a thing which he dared not refuse. Yet +he knew very well what he could not explain to them - that the whole +success of his life depended so absolutely upon his remaining free +from any suspicion of wrong-doing, that he had received his summons +with something like dismay, and proceeded to obey it with +unaccustomed reluctance. + +He drove to Cirey's cafe in Regent Street, where he dismissed the +driver of his hansom and strolled in with the air of an habitue. He +selected a corner table, ordered some refreshment, and asked for a +box of dominoes. The place was fairly well filled. A few women +were sitting about; a sprinkling of Frenchmen were taking their +aperitif; here and there a man of affairs, on his way from the city, +had called in for a glass of vermouth. Peter Ruff looked them over, +recognizing the type - recognizing, even, some of their faces. +Apparently, the person whom he was to meet had not yet arrived. + +He lit a cigarette and smoked slowly. Presently the door opened +and a woman entered in a long fur coat, a large hat, and a thick +veil. She raised it to glance around, disclosing the unnaturally +pale face and dark, swollen eyes of a certain type of Frenchwoman. +She seemed to notice no one in particular. Her eyes traveled over +Peter Ruff without any sign of interest. Nevertheless, she took a +seat somewhere near his and ordered some vermouth from the waiter, +whom she addressed by name. When she had been served and the waiter +had departed, she looked curiously at the dominoes which stood +before her neighbor. + +"Monsieur plays dominoes, perhaps?" she remarked, taking one of +them into her fingers and examining it. "A very interesting game!" + +Peter Ruff showed her a domino which he had been covering with his +hand - it was a double four. She nodded, and moved from her seat +to one immediately next him. + +"I had not imagined," Peter Ruff said, "that it was a lady whom I +was to meet." + +"Monsieur is not disappointed, I trust?" she said, smiling. "If I +talk banalities, Monsieur must pardon it. Both the waiters here +are spies, and there are always people who watch. Monsieur is ready +to do us a service?" + +"To the limits of my ability," Peter Ruff answered. "Madame will +remember that we are not in Paris; that our police system, if not so +wonderful as yours, is still a closer and a more present thing. They +have not the brains at Scotland Yard, but they are persistent - hard +to escape." + +"Do I not know it?" the woman said. "It is through them that we +send for you. One of us is in danger." + +"Do I know him?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"It is doubtful," she answered. "Monsieur's stay in Paris was so +brief. If Monsieur will recognize his name - it is Jean Lemaitre +himself." + +Peter Ruff started slightly. + +"I thought," he said, with some hesitation, "that Lemaitre did not +visit this country." + +"He came well disguised," the woman answered. "It was thought to +be safe. Nevertheless, it was a foolish thing. They have tracked +him down from hotel to apartments, till he lives now in the back +room of a wretched little cafe in Soho. Even from there we cannot +get him away - the whole district is watched by spies. We need help." + +"For a genius like Lemaitre," Peter Ruff said, thoughtfully, "to +have even thought of Soho, was foolish. He should have gone to +Hampstead or Balham. It is easy to fool our police if you know how. +On the other hand, they hang on to the scent like leeches when once +they are on the trail. How many warrants are there out against Jean +in this country?" + +"Better not ask that," the woman said, grimly. "You remember the +raid on a private house in the Holloway Road, two years ago, when +two policemen were shot and a spy was stabbed? Jean was in that + - it is sufficient!" + +"Are any plans made at all?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"But naturally," the woman answered. "There is a motor car, even +now, of sixty-horse-power, stands ready at a garage in Putney. If +Jean can once reach it, he can reach the coast. At a certain spot +near Southampton there is a small steamer waiting. After that, +everything is easy." + +"My task, then," Peter Ruff said, thoughtfully, "is to take Jean +Lemaitre from this cafe in Soho, as far as Putney, and get him a +fair start?" + +"It is enough," she answered. "There is a cordon of spies around +the district. Every day they seem to chose in upon us. They search +the houses, one by one. Only last night, the Hotel de Netherlands + - a miserable little place on the other side of the street - was +suddenly surrounded by policemen and every room ransacked. It may +be our turn to-night." + +"In one hour's time," Peter Ruff said, glancing at his watch, "I +shall present myself as a doctor at the cafe. Tell me the address. +Tell me what to say which will insure my admission to Jean Lemaitre!" + +"The cafe," she answered, "is called the Hotel de Flandres. You +enter the restaurant and you walk to the desk. There you find +always Monsieur Antoine. You say to him simply - 'The Double-Four!' +He will answer that he understands, and he will conduct you at once +to Lemaitre." + +Ruff nodded. + +"In the meantime," he said, "let it be understood in the cafe - if +there is any one who is not in the secret - that one of the waiters +is sick. I shall come to attend him." + +She nodded thoughtfully. + +"As well that way as any other," she answered. "Monsieur is very +kind. A bientot!" + +She shook hands and they parted. Peter Ruff drove back to his +rooms, rang up an adjoining garage for a small covered car such as +are usually let out to medical men, and commenced to pack a small +black bag with the outfit necessary for his purpose. Now that he +was actually immersed in his work, the sense of depression had +passed away. The keen stimulus of danger had quickened his blood. +He knew very well that the woman had not exaggerated. There was +no man more wanted by the French or the English police than the man +who had sought his aid, and the district in which he had taken +shelter was, in some respects, the very worst for his purpose. +Nevertheless, Peter Ruff, who believed, at the bottom of his heart, +in his star, went on with his preparations feeling morally certain +that Jean Lemaitre would sleep on the following night in his native +land. + +At precisely the hour agreed upon, a small motor brougham pulled up +outside the door of the Hotel de Flandres and its occupant - whom +ninety-nine men out of a hundred would at once, unhesitatingly, have +declared to be a doctor in moderate practice - pushed open the swing +doors of the restaurant and made his way to the desk. He was of +medium height; he wore a frock-coat - a little frayed; gray trousers +which had not been recently pressed; and thick boots. + +"I understand that one of your waiters requires my attendance," he +said, in a tone not unduly raised but still fairly audible. "I am +Dr. Gilette." + +"Dr. Gilette," Antoine repeated, slowly. + + +"And number Double-Four," the doctor murmured. + +Antoine descended from his desk. + +"But certainly, Monsieur!" he said. "The poor fellow declares that +he suffers. If he is really ill, he must go. It sounds brutal, but +what can one do? We have so few rooms here, and so much business. +Monsieur will come this way?" + +Antoine led the way from the cafe into a very smelly region of +narrow passages and steep stairs. + +"It is to be arranged?" Antoine whispered, as they ascended. + +"Without a doubt," the doctor answered. "Were there spies in the +cafe?" + +"Two," Antoine answered. + +The doctor nodded, and said no more. He mounted to the third story. +Antoine led him through a small sitting-room and knocked four times +upon the door of an inner room. It suddenly was opened. A man - +unshaven, terrified, with that nameless fear in his face which one +sees reflected in the expression of some trapped animal - stood +there looking out at them. + +"'Double-Four'!" the doctor said, softly. "Go back into the room, +please. Antoine will kindly leave us." + +"Who are you?" the man gasped. + +"'Double-Four'!" the doctor answered. "Obey me, and be quick for +your life! Strip!" + +The man obeyed. + +Barely twenty minutes later, the doctor - still carrying his bag - +descended the stairs. He entered the cafe from a somewhat remote +door. Antoine hurried to meet him, and walked by his side through +the place. He asked many questions, but the doctor contented +himself with shaking his head. Almost in silence he left Antoine, +who conducted him even to the door of his motor. The proprietor +of the cafe watched the brougham disappear, and then returned +to his desk, sighing heavily. + +A man who had been sipping a liqueur dose at hand, laid down his +paper. + +"One of your waiters ill, did I understand?" he asked. Monsieur +Antoine was at once eloquent. It was the ill-fortune which had +dogged him for the last four months! The man had been taken ill +there in the restaurant. He was a Gascon - spoke no English - and +had just arrived. It was not possible for him to be removed at the +moment, so he had been carried to an empty bedroom. Then had come +the doctor and forbidden his removal. Now for a week he had lain +there and several of his other voyageurs had departed. One did +not know how these things got about, but they spoke of infection. +The doctor, who had just left - Dr. Gilette of Russell Square, a +most famous physician - had assured him that there was no infection + - no fear of any. But what did it matter - that? People were so +hard to convince. Monsieur would like a cigar? But certainly! +There were here some of the best. + +Antoine undid the cabinet and opened a box of Havanas. John Dory +selected one and called for another liqueur. + +"You have trouble often with your waiters, I dare say," he remarked. +"They tell me that all Frenchmen who break the law in their own +country, find their way, sooner or later, to these parts. You have +to take them without characters, I suppose?" + +Antoine lifted his shoulders. + +"But what could one do?" he exclaimed. "Characters, they were easy +enough to write - but were they worth the paper they were written on? +Indeed no!" + +"Not only your waiters," Dory continued, "but those who stay in the +hotels round here have sometimes an evil name." + +Antoine shrugged his shoulders. + +"For myself," he said, "I am particular. We have but a few rooms, +but we are careful to whom we let them." + +"Do you keep a visitors' book?" + +"But no, Monsieur!" Antoine protested. "For why the necessity? +There are so few who come to stay for more than the night - just +now scarcely any one at all." + +There entered, at that moment, a tall, thin man dressed in dark +clothes, who walked with his hands in his overcoat pockets, as +though it were a habit. He came straight to Dory and handed him a +piece of paper. + +John Dory glanced it through and rose to his feet. A gleam of +satisfaction lit his eyes. + +"Monsieur Antoine," he said, "I am sorry to cause you any +inconvenience, but here is my card. I am a detective officer from +Scotland Yard, and I have received information which compels me +with your permission, to examine at once the sleeping apartments +in your hotel." + +Antoine was fiercely indignant. + +"But, Monsieur!" he exclaimed. "I do not understand! Examine my +rooms? But it is impossible! Who dares to say that I harbor +criminals?" + +"I have information upon which I can rely," John Dory answered, +firmly. "This comes from a man who is no friend of mine, but he is +well-known. You can read for yourself what he says." + +Monsieur Antoine, with trembling fingers, took the piece of paper +from John Dory's hands. It was addressed to - + + +Mr. JOHN DORY, DETECTIVE: + +If you wish to find Jean Lemaitre, search in the upper rooms of +the Hotel de Flandres. I have certain information that he is to be +found there. + PETER RUFF. + +"Never," Antoine declared, "will I suffer such an indignity!" + +Dory raised a police whistle to his lips. + +"You are foolish," he said. "Already there is a cordon of men about +the place. If you refuse to conduct me upstairs I shall at once +place you under arrest." + +Antoine, white with fear, poured himself out a liqueur of brandy. + +"Well, well," he said, "what must be done, then! Come!" + +He led the way out into that smelly network of passages, up the +stairs to the first floor. Room after room he threw open and +begged Dory to examine. Some of them were garishly furnished with +gilt mirrors, cheap lace curtains tied back with blue ribbons. +Others were dark, miserable holes, into which the fresh air seemed +never to have penetrated. On the third floor they reached the little +sitting-room, which bore more traces of occupation than some of the +rooms below. Antoine would have passed on, but Dory stopped him. + +"There is a door there," he said. "We will try that." + +"It is the sick waiter who lies within," Antoine protested. +"Monsieur can hear him groan." + +There was, indeed, something which sounded like a groan to be heard, +but Dory was obstinate. + +"If he is so ill," he demanded, "how is he able to lock the door on +the inside? Monsieur Antoine, that door must be opened." + +Antoine knocked at it softly. + +"Francois," he said, "there is another doctor here who would see +you. Let us in." + +There was no answer, Antoine turned to his companion with a little +shrug of the shoulders, as one who would say - "I have done my best. +What would you have?" + +Dory put his shoulder to the door. + +"Listen," he shouted through the keyhole, "Mr. Sick Waiter, or +whoever you are, if you do not unlock this door, I am coming in!" + +"I have no key," said a faint voice. "I am locked in. Please break +open the door." + +"But that is not the Voice of Francois!" Antoine exclaimed, in +amazement. + +"We'll soon see who it is," Dory answered. + +He charged at the door fiercely. At the third assault it gave way. +They found themselves in a small back bedroom, and stretched on the +floor, very pale, and apparently only half-conscious, lay Peter Ruff. +There was a strong smell of chloroform about. John Dory threw open +the window. His fingers trembled a little. It was like Fate - this! +At the end of every unsuccessful effort there was this man - Peter +Ruff! + +"What the devil are you doing here?" he asked. + +Peter Ruff groaned. + +"Help me up," he begged, "and give me a little brandy." + +Antoine set him in an easy-chair and rang the bell furiously. + +"It will come directly!" he exclaimed. "But who are you?" + +Peter Ruff waited for the brandy. When he had sipped it, he drew +a little breath as though of relief. + +"I heard," he said, speaking still with an evident effort, "that +Lemaitre was here. I had secret information. I thought at first +that I would let you know - I sent you a note early this morning. +Afterwards, I discovered that there was a reward, and I determined +to track him down myself. He was in here hiding as a sick waiter. +I do not think," Peter Ruff added, "that Monsieur Antoine had any +idea. I presented myself as representing a charitable society, and +I was shown here to visit him. He was too clever, though, was Jean +Lemaitre - too quick for me." + +"You were a fool to come alone!" John Dory said. "Don't you know +the man's record? How long ago did he leave?" + +"About ten minutes," Peter Ruff answered. "You must have missed +him somewhere as you came up. I crawled to the window and I watched +him go. He left the restaurant by the side entrance, and took a +taxicab at the corner there. It went northward toward New Oxford +Street." + +Dory turned on his heel - they heard him descending the stairs. +Peter Ruff rose to his feet. + +"I am afraid," he said, as he plunged his head into a basin of water, +and came into the middle of the room rubbing it vigorously with a +small towel, "I am afraid that our friend John Dory will get to +dislike me soon! He passed out unnoticed, eh, Antoine?" + +Antoine's face wore a look of great relief. + +"There was not a soul who looked," he said. "We passed under the +nose of the gentleman from Scotland Yard. He sat there reading his +paper; and he had no idea. I watched Jean step into the motor. +Even by now he is well on his way southwards. Twice he changes +from motor to train, and back. They will never trace him." + +Peter Ruff, who was looking amazingly better, sipped a further glass +of liqueur. Together he and Antoine descended to the street. + +"Mind," Peter Ruff whispered, "I consider that accounts are squared +between me and 'Double-Four' now. Let them know that. This sort of +thing isn't in my line." + +"For an amateur," Antoine said, bowing low, "Monsieur commands my +heartfelt congratulations!" + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Mrs. BOGNOR'S STAR BOARDER + +In these days, the duties of Miss Brown as Peter Ruff's secretary +had become multifarious. Together with the transcribing of a vast +number of notes concerning cases, some of which he undertook and +some of which he refused, she had also to keep his cash book, a +note of his investments and a record of his social engagements. +Notwithstanding all these demands upon her time, however, there +were occasions when she found herself, of necessity, idle. In one +of these she broached the subject which had often been in her mind. +They were alone, and not expecting callers. Consequently, she sat +upon the hearthrug and addressed her employer by his Christian name. + +"Peter," she said softly, "do you remember the night when you came +through the fog and burst into my little flat?" + +"Quite well," he answered, "but it is a subject to which I prefer +that you do not allude." + +"I will be careful," she answered. "I only spoke of it for this +reason. Before you left, when we were sitting together, you +sketched out the career which you proposed for yourself. In many +respects, I suppose, you have been highly successful, but I wonder +if it has ever occurred to you that your work has not proceeded +upon the lines which you first indicated?" + +He nodded. + +"I think I know what you mean," he said. "Go on." + +"That night," she murmured softly, "you spoke as a hunted man; you +spoke as one at war with Society; you spoke as one who proposes +almost a campaign against it. When you took your rooms here and +called yourself Peter Ruff, it was rather in your mind to aid the +criminal than to detect the crime. Fate seems to have decreed +otherwise. Why, I wonder?" + +"Things have gone that way," Peter Ruff remarked. + +"I will tell you why," she continued. "It is because, at the bottom +of your heart, there lurks a strong and unconquerable desire for +respectability. In your heart you are on the side of the law and +established things. You do not like crime; you do not like criminals. +You do not like the idea of associating with them. You prefer the +company of law-abiding people, even though their ways be narrow. It +was part of that sentiment, Peter, which led you to fall in love with +a coal-merchant's daughter. I can see that you will end your days +in the halo of respectability." + +Peter Ruff was a little thoughtful. He scratched his chin and +contemplated the tip of his faultless patent boot. Self-analysis +interested him, and he recognized the truth of the girl's words. + +"You know, I am rather like that," he admitted. "When I see a +family party, I envy them. When I hear of a man who has brothers +and sisters and aunts and cousins, and gives family dinner-parties +to family friends, I envy him. I do not care about the loose ends +of life. I do not care about restaurant life, and ladies who +transfer their regards with the same facility that they change their +toilettes. You have very admirable powers of observation, Violet. +You see me, I believe, as I really am." + +"That being so," she remarked, "what are you going to say to Sir +Richard Dyson?" + +Peter Ruff was frank. + +"Upon my soul," he answered, "I don't know!" + +"You'll have to make up your mind very soon," she reminded him. +"He is coming here at twelve o'clock." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"I shall wait until I hear what he has to say," he remarked. + +"His letter gave you a pretty clear hint," Violet said, "that it +was something outside the law." + +"The law has many outposts," Peter Ruff said. "One can thread one's +way in and out, if one knows the ropes. I don't like the man, but +he introduced me to his tailor. I have never had any clothes like +those he has made me." + +She sighed. + +"You are a vain little person," she said. + +"You are an impertinent young woman!" he answered. "Get back to +your work. Don't you hear the lift stop?" + +She rose reluctantly, and resumed her place in front of her desk. + +"If it's risky," she whispered, leaning round towards him, "don't +you take it on. I've heard one or two things about Sir Richard +lately." + +Peter Ruff nodded. He, too, quitted his easy-chair, and took up a +bundle of papers which lay upon his desk. There was a sharp tap at +the door. + +"Come in!" he said. + +Sir Richard Dyson entered. He was dressed quietly, but with the +perfect taste which was obviously an instinct with him, and he wore +a big bunch of violets in his buttonhole. Nevertheless, the spring +sunshine seemed to find out the lines in his face. His eyes were +baggy - he had aged even within the last few months. + +"Well, Mr. Ruff," he said, shaking hands, "how goes it?" + +"I am very well, Sir Richard," Peter Ruff answered. "Please take +a chair." + +Sir Richard took the easy-chair, and discovering a box of cigarettes +upon the table, helped himself. Then his eyes fell upon Miss Brown. + +"Can't do without your secretary?" he remarked. + +"Impossible!" Peter Ruff answered. "As I told you before, I am her +guarantee that what you say to me, or before her, is spoken as though +to the dead." + +Sir Richard nodded. + +"Just as well," he remarked, "for I am going to talk about a man who +I wish were dead!" + +"There are few of us," Peter Ruff said, "who have not our enemies." + +"Have you any experience of blackmailers?" Sir Richard asked. + +"In my profession," Peter Ruff answered, "I have come across such +persons." + +"I have come to see you about one," Sir Richard proceeded. "Many +years ago, there was a fellow in my regiment who went to the bad + - never mind his name. He passes to-day as Ted Jones - that name +will do as well as another. I am not," Sir Richard continued, "a +good-natured man, but some devilish impulse prompted me to help +that fellow. I gave him money three or four times. Somehow, I +don't think it's a very good thing to give a man money. He doesn't +value it - it comes too easily. He spends it and wants more." + +"There's a good deal of truth in what you say, Sir Richard," Peter +Ruff admitted. + +"Our friend, for instance, wanted more," Sir Richard continued. +"He came to me for it almost as a matter of course. I refused. +He came again; I lost my temper and punched his head. Then his +little game began." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"He had something to work upon, I suppose?" he remarked. + +"Most certainly he had," Sir Richard admitted. "If ever I achieved +sufficient distinction in any branch of life to make it necessary +that my biography should be written, I promise you that you would +find it in many places a little highly colored. In other words, Mr. +Ruff, I have not always adhered to the paths of righteousness." + +A faint smile flickered across Peter Ruff's face. + +"Sir Richard," he said, "your candor is admirable." + +"There was one time," Sir Richard continued, "when I was really on +my last legs. It was just before I came into the baronetcy. I had +borrowed every penny I could borrow. I was even hard put to it for +a meal. I went to Paris, and I called myself by another man's name. +I got introduced to a somewhat exclusive club there. My assumed +name was a good one - it was the name, in fact, of a relative whom +I somewhat resembled. I was accepted without question. I played +cards, and I lost somewhere about eighteen thousand francs." + +"A sum," Peter Ruff remarked, "which you probably found it +inconvenient to pay." + +"There was only one course," Sir Richard continued, "and I took it. +I went back the next night and gave checks for the amount of my +indebtedness - checks which had no more chance of being met than if +I were to draw to-night upon the Bank of England for a million pounds. +I went back, however, with another resolve. I was considered to have +discharged my liabilities, and we played again. I rose a winner of +something like sixty thousand francs. But I played to win, Mr. Ruff! +Do you know what that means?" + +"You cheated!" Peter Ruff said, in an undertone. + +"Quite true," Sir Richard admitted. "I cheated! There was a +scandal, and I disappeared. I had the money, and though my checks +for the eighteen thousand francs were met, there was a considerable +balance in my pocket when I escaped out of France. There was enough +to take me out to America - big game shooting in the far West. No +one ever associated me with the impostor who had robbed these young +French noblemen - no one, that is to say, except the person who +passes by the name of Teddy Jones." + +"How did he get to know?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"The story wouldn't interest you," Sir Richard answered. "He was +in Paris at the time - we came across one another twice. He heard +the scandal, and put two and two together. I shipped him off to +Australia when I came into the title. He has come back. Lately, +I can tell you, he has pretty well drained me dry. He has become +a regular parasite a cold-blooded leech. He doesn't get drunk now. +He looks after his health. I believe he even saves his, money. +There's scarcely a week I don't hear from him. He keeps me a pauper. +He has brought me at last to that state when I feel that there must +be an ending!" + +"You have come to seek my help," Peter Ruff said, slowly. "From +what you say about this man, I presume that he is not to be +frightened?" + +"Not for a single moment," Sir Richard answered. "The law has no +terrors for him. He is as slippery as an eel. He has his story pat. +He even has his witnesses ready. I can assure you that Mr. Teddy +Jones isn't by any means an ordinary sort of person." + +"He is not to be bluffed," Peter Ruff said, slowly; "he is not to +be bribed. What remains?" + +"I have come here," Sir Richard said, "for your advice, Mr. Ruff." + +"The blackmailer," Peter Ruff said, "is a criminal." + +"He is a scoundrel!" Sir Richard assented. + +"He is not fit to live," Peter Ruff repeated. + +"He contaminates the world with every breath he draws!" Sir Richard +assented. + +"Perhaps," Peter Ruff said, "you had better give me his address, +and the name he goes under." + +"He lives at a boarding-house in Russell Street, Bloomsbury," Sir +Richard said. "It is Mrs. Bognor's boarding-house. She calls it, +I believe, the 'American Home from Home.' The number is 17." + +"A boarding-house," Peter Ruff repeated, thoughtfully. "Makes it a +little hard to get at him privately, doesn't it?" + +"Fling him a bait and he will come to you," Sir Richard answered. +"He is an adventurer pure and simple, though perhaps you wouldn't +believe it to look at him now. He has grown fat on the money he +has wrung from me." + +"You had better leave the matter in my hands for a few days," Peter +Ruff said. "I will have a talk with this gentleman and see whether +he is really so unmanageable. If he is, there is, of course, only +one way, and for that way, Sir Richard, you would have to pay a +little high." + +"If I were to hear to-morrow," Sir Richard said quietly, "that Teddy +Jones was dead, I would give five thousand pounds to the man who +brought me the information!" + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"It would be worth that," he said - "quite! I will drop you a line +in the course of the next few days." + +Sir Richard took up his hat, lit another of Peter Ruff's cigarettes, +and departed. They heard the rattle of the lift as it descended. +Then Miss Brown turned round in her chair. + +"Don't you do it, Peter!" she said solemnly. "The time has gone by +for that sort of thing. The man may be unfit to live, but you don't +need to risk as much as that for a matter of five thousand pounds." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"Quite right," he said; "quite right, Violet. At the same time, +five thousand pounds is an excellent sum. We must see what can be +done." + +Peter Ruff's method of seeing what could be done was at first the +very obvious one of seeking to discover any incidents in the past +of the person known as Teddy Jones likely to reflect present +discredit upon him if brought to light. From the first, it was +quite clear that the career of this gentleman had been far from +immaculate. His researches proved, beyond a doubt, that the +gentleman in question had resorted, during the last ten or fifteen +years, to many and very questionable methods of obtaining a living. +At the same time, there was nothing which Peter Ruff felt that +the man might not brazen out. His present mode of life seemed + - on the surface, at any rate - to be beyond reproach. There +was only one association which was distinctly questionable, and it +was in this one direction, therefore, that Peter Ruff concentrated +himself. The case, for some reason, interested him so much that he +took a close and personal interest in it, and he was rewarded one +day by discovering this enemy of Sir Richard's sitting, toward five +o'clock in the afternoon, in a cafe in Regent Street, engrossed in +conversation with a person whom Peter Ruff knew to be a very black +sheep indeed - a man who had been tried for murder, and concerning +whom there were still many unpleasant rumors. From behind his paper +in a corner of the cafe, Peter Ruff watched these two men. Teddy +Jones - or Major Edward Jones, as it seemed he was now called - was +a person whose appearance no longer suggested the poverty against +which he had been struggling most of his life. He was well dressed +and tolerably well turned out. His face was a little puffy, and +he had put on flesh during these days of his ease. His eyes, too, +had a somewhat furtive expression, although his general deportment +was one of braggadocio. Peter Ruff, quick always in his likes or +dislikes, found the man repulsive from the start. He felt that he +would have a genuine pleasure, apart from the matter of the five +thousand pounds, in accelerating Major Jones's departure from a +world which he certainly did not adorn. + +The two men conducted their conversation in a subdued tone, which +made it quite impossible for Peter Ruff, in his somewhat distant +corner, to overhear a single word of it. It was obvious, however, +that they were not on the best of terms. Major Jones's companion +was protesting, and apparently without success, against some +course of action or speech of his companions. The conversation, +on the other hand, never reached a quarrel, and the two men left +the place together apparently on ordinary terms of friendliness. +Peter Ruff at once quitted his seat and crossed the room toward +the spot where they had been sitting. He dived under the table +and picked up a newspaper - it was the only clue left to him as +to the nature of their conversation. More than once, Major Jones +who had, soon after their arrival, sent a waiter for it, had +pointed to a certain paragraph as though to give weight to his +statements. Peter Ruff had noticed the exact position of that +paragraph. He smoothed out the paper and found it at once. It +was an account of the murder of a wealthy old woman, living on +the outskirts of a country village not far from London. Peter +Ruff's face did not change as he called for another vermouth and +read the description, slowly. Yet he was aware that he had +possibly stumbled across the very thing for which he had searched +so urgently! The particulars of the murder he already knew well, +as at one time he had felt inclined to aid the police in their +so far fruitless investigations. He therefore skipped the +description of the tragedy, and devoted his attention to the last +paragraph, toward which he fancied that the finger of Major Jones +had been chiefly directed. It was a list of the stolen property, +which consisted of jewelry, gold and notes to a very considerable +amount. With the waiter's permission, he annexed the paper, cut +out the list of articles with a sharp penknife, and placed it in +his pocketbook before he left the cafe. + +In the course of some of the smaller cases with which Peter Ruff +had been from time to time connected, he had more than once come +into contact with the authorities at Scotland Yard, and he had +several acquaintances there - not including Mr. John Dory - to +whom, at times, he had given valuable information. For the first +time, he now sought some return for his many courtesies. He drove +straight from the cafe to the office of the Chief of the Criminal +Investigation Department. The questions he asked there were only +two, but they were promptly and courteously answered. Peter Ruff +left the building and drove back to his rooms in a somewhat +congratulatory frame of mind. After all, it was chance which was +the chief factor in the solution of so many of these cases! Often +he had won less success after months of untiring effort than he +had gained during that few minutes in the cafe in Regent Street. + +Peter Ruff became an inmate of that very select boarding-house +carried on by Mrs. Bognor at number 17 Russell Street, Bloomsbury. +He arrived with a steamer trunk, an elaborate traveling-bag and a +dressing-case; took the best vacant room in the house, and dressed +for dinner. Mrs. Bognor looked upon him as a valuable addition +to her clientele, and introduced him freely to her other guests. +Among these was Major Edward Jones. Major Jones sat at Mrs. +Bognor's right hand, and was evidently the show guest of the +boarding-house. Peter Ruff, without the least desire to attack +his position, sat upon her left and monopolized the conversation. +On the third night it turned, by chance, upon precious stones. +Peter Ruff drew a little chamois leather bag from his pocket. + +"I am afraid," he said, "that my tastes are peculiar. I have been +in the East, and I have seen very many precious stones in their +uncut state. To my mind, there is nothing to be compared with opals. +These are a few I brought home from India. Perhaps you would like +to look at them, Mrs. Bognor." + +They were passed round, amidst a little chorus of admiration. + +"The large one with the blue fire," Peter Ruff remarked, "is, I think, +remarkably beautiful. I have never seen a stone quite like it." + +"It is wonderful!" murmured the young lady who was sitting at Major +Jones's right hand. "What a fortunate man you are, Mr. Ruff, to +have such a collection of treasures!" + +Peter Ruff bowed across the table. Major Jones, who was beginning +to feel that his position as show guest was in danger, thrust his +hand into his waistcoat pocket and produced a lady's ring, in which +was set a single opal. + +"Very pretty stones," he remarked carelessly, "but I can't say I am +very fond of them. Here's one that belonged to my sister, and my +grandmother before her. I have it in my pocket because I was +thinking of having the stone reset and making a present of it to a +friend of mine." + +Peter Ruff's popularity waned - he had said nothing about making +a present to any one of even the most insignificant of his opals! +And the one which Major Jones now handed round was certainly a +magnificent stone. Peter Ruff examined it with the rest, and under +the pretext of studying the setting, gazed steadfastly at the inside +through his eyeglass. Major Jones, from the other side of the table, +frowned, and held out his hand for the ring. + +"A very beautiful stone indeed!" Peter Ruff declared, passing it +across the tablecloth. "Really, I do not think that there is one +in my little collection to be compared with it. Have you many +treasures like this, Major Jones?" + +"Oh, a few!" the Major answered carelessly, "family heirlooms, +most of them." + +"You will have to give me the ring, Major Jones," the young lady +on his right remarked archly. "It's bad luck, you know, to give it +to any one who is not born in October, and my birthday is on the +twelfth." + +"My dear Miss Levey," Major Jones answered, whispering in her ear, +"more unlikely things have happened than that I should beg your +acceptance of this little trifle." + +"Sooner or later," Peter Ruff said genially, "I should like to have +a little conversation with you, Major. I fancy that we ought to be +able to find plenty of subjects of common interest." + +"Delighted, I'm sure!" the latter answered, utterly unsuspicious. +"Shall we go into the smoking-room now, or would you rather play a +rubber first?" + +"If it is all the same to you," Peter Ruff said, "I think we will +have a cigar first. There will be plenty of time for bridge +afterwards." + +"May I offer you a cigar, sir?" Major Jones inquired, passing across +a well-filled case. + +Peter Ruff sighed. + +"I am afraid, Major," he said, "that there is scarcely time. You +see, I have a warrant in my pocket for your arrest, and I am afraid +that by the time we got to the station - " + +Major Jones leaned forward in his chair. He gripped the sides +tightly with both hands. His eyes seemed to be protruding from +his head. + +"For my what?" he exclaimed, in a tone of horror. + +"For your arrest," Peter Ruff explained calmly. "Surely you must +have been expecting it! During all these years you must have grown +used to expecting it at every moment!" + +Major Jones collapsed. He looked at Ruff as one might look at a +man who has taken leave of his senses. Yet underneath it all was +the coward's fear! + +"What are you talking about, man?" he exclaimed. "What do you mean? +Lower your voice, for heaven's sake! Consider my position here! +Some one might overhear! If this is a joke, let me tell you that +it's a d-d foolish one!" + +Peter Ruff raised his eyebrows. + +"I do not wish," he said, "to create a disturbance - my manner of +coming here should have assured you of that. At the same time, +business is business. I hold a warrant for your arrest, and I am +forced to execute it." + +"Do you mean that you are a detective, then?" Major Jones demanded. + +He was a big man, but his voice seemed to have grown very small +indeed. + +"Naturally," Peter Ruff answered. "I should not come here without +authority." + +"What is the charge?" the other man faltered. + +"Blackmail," Peter Ruff said slowly. "The information against you +is lodged by Sir Richard Dyson." + +It seemed to Peter Ruff, who was watching his companion closely, +that a wave of relief passed over the face of the man who sat +cowering in his chair. He certainly drew a little gasp - stretched +out his hands, as though to thrust the shadow of some fear from him. +His voice, when he spoke, was stronger. Some faint show of courage +was returning to him. + +"There is some ridiculous mistake," he declared. "Let us talk this +over like sensible men, Mr. Ruff. If you will wait until I have +spoken to Sir Richard, I can promise you that the warrant shall be +withdrawn, and that you shall not be the loser." + +"I am afraid it is too late for anything of that sort," Peter Ruff +said. "Sir Richard's patience has been completely exhausted by your +repeated demands." + +"He never told me so," Major Jones whined. "I quite thought that +he was always glad to help an old friend. As a matter of fact, I +had not meant to ask him for anything else. The last few hundreds +I had from him was to have closed the thing up. It was the end." + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"No," he said, "it was not the end! It never would have been the +end! Sir Richard sought my advice, and I gave it him without +hesitation. Sooner or later, I told him, he would have to adopt +different measures. I convinced him. I represent those measures!" + +"But the matter can be arranged," Major Jones insisted, with a +little shudder, "I am perfectly certain it can be arranged. Mr. +Ruff, you are not an ordinary police officer - I am sure of that. +Give me a chance of having an interview with Sir Richard before +anything more is done. I will satisfy him, I promise you that. +Why, if we leave the place together like this, every one here will +get to know about it!" + +"Be reasonable," Peter Ruff answered. "Of course everyone will get +to know about it! Blackmailing cases always excite a considerable +amount of interest. Your photograph will probably be in the Daily +Mirror tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime, I must trouble +you to pay your respects to Mrs. Bognor and to come with me." + +"To Sir Richard's house?" Major Jones asked, eagerly. + +"To the police-stations," Peter Ruff answered. + +Major Jones did not rise. He sat for a few moments with his head +buried in his hands. + +"Mr. Ruff," he said hoarsely, "listen to me. I have been fortunate +lately in some investments. I am not so poor as I was. I have my +check-book in my pocket, and a larger balance in the bank now than +I have ever had before. If I write you a check for, say, a hundred + - no, two! - five!" he cried, desperately, watching Peter Ruff's +unchanging face - "five hundred pounds, will you come round with me +to Sir Richard's house in a hansom at once?" + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"Five thousand pounds would not buy your liberty from me, Major +Jones," he said. + +The man became abject. + +"Have pity, then," he pleaded. "My health is not good - I couldn't +stand imprisonment. Think of what it means to a man of my age +suddenly to leave everything worth having in life just because he +may have imposed a little on the generosity of a friend! Think how +you would feel, and be merciful!" + +Peter Ruff shook his head slowly. His face was immovable, but there +was a look in his eyes from which the other man shrank. + +"Major Jones," he said, "you ask me be merciful. You appeal to my +pity. For such as you I have no pity, nor have I ever shown any +mercy. You know very well, and I know, that when once the hand of +the law touches your shoulder, it will not be only a charge o + blackmail which the police will bring against you!" + +"There is nothing else - nothing else!" he cried. "Take half my +fortune, Mr. Ruff. Let me get away. Give me a chance - just a +sporting chance!" + +"I wonder," Peter Ruff said, "what chance that poor old lady in +Weston had? No, I am not saying you murdered her. You never had +the pluck. Your confederate did that, and you handled the booty. +What were the initials inside that ring you showed us to-night, +Major Jones?" + +"Let me go to my bedroom," he said, in a strange, far-away tone. +"You can come with me and stand outside." + +Peter Ruff assented. + +"To save scandal," he said, "yes!" + +Three flights of stairs they climbed. When at last they reached +the door, the trembling man made one last appeal. + +"Mr. Ruff," he said, "have a little mercy. Give me an hour's start + - just a chance for my life!" + +Peter Ruff pushed him in the door. + +"I am not a hard man," he said, "but I keep my mercy for men!" + +He took the key from the inside of the door, locked it, and with +the key in his pocket descended to the drawing-room. The young +lady who had sat on Major Jones's right was singing a ballad. +Suddenly she paused in the middle of her song. The four people +who were playing bridge looked up. Mrs. Bognor screamed. + +"What was that?" she asked quickly. + +"It sounded," Peter Ruff said, "very much like revolver shot." + +"I see," Sir Richard remarked, with a queer look in his eyes, as +he handed over a roll of notes to Peter Ruff, "the jury brought it +in 'Suicide'! What I can't understand is - " + +"Don't try," Peter Ruff interrupted briskly. "It isn't in the bond +that you should understand." + +Sir Richard helped himself to a drink. A great burden had passed +from his shoulders, but he was not feeling at his best that morning. +He could scarcely keep his eyes from Peter Ruff. + +"Ruff," he said, "I have known you some time, and I have known you +to be a square man. I have known you to do good-natured actions. +I came to you in desperation but I scarcely expected this!" + +Peter Ruff emptied his own tumbler and took up his hat. + +"Sir Richard," he said, "you are like a good many other people. Now +that the thing is done, you shrink from the thought of it. You even +wonder how I could have planned to bring about the death of this man. +Listen, Sir Richard. Pity for the deserving, or for those who have +in them one single quality, one single grain, of good, is a sentiment +which deserves respect. Pity for vermin, who crawl about the world +leaving a poisonous trail upon everything they touch, is a false +and unnatural sentiment. For every hopelessly corrupt man who is +induced to quit this life there is a more deserving one, somewhere +or other, for whom the world is a better place." + +"So that, after all, you are a philanthropist, Mr. Ruff," Sir Richard +said, with a forced smile. + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"A philosopher," he answered, buttoning up his notes. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE PERFIDY OF MISS BROWN + + +Peter Ruff came down to his office with a single letter in his hand, +bearing a French postmark. He returned his secretary's morning +greeting a little absently, and seated himself at his desk. + +"Violet," he asked, "have you ever been to Paris?" + +She looked at him compassionately. + +"More times than you, I think, Peter," she answered. + +He nodded. + +"That," he exclaimed, "is very possible! Could you get ready to +leave by the two-twenty this afternoon?" + +"What, alone?" she exclaimed. + +"No - with me," he answered. + +She shut down her desk with a bang. + +"Of course I can!" she exclaimed. "What a spree!" + +Then she caught sight of a certain expression on Peter Ruff's face, +and she looked at him wonderingly. + +"Is anything wrong, Peter?" she asked. + +"No," he answered, "I cannot say that anything is wrong. I have +had an invitation to present myself before a certain society in +Paris of which you have some indirect knowledge. What the summons +means I cannot say." + +"Yet you go?" she exclaimed. + +"I go," he answered. "I have no choice. If I waited here +twenty-four hours, I should hear of it." + +"They can have nothing against you," she said. "On the contrary, +the only time they have appealed for your aid, you gave it - very +valuable aid it must have been, too." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"I cannot see," he admitted, "what they can have against me. And +yet, somehow, the wording of my invitation seemed to me a little +ominous. Perhaps," he added, walking to the window and standing +looking out for a moment, "I have a liver this morning. I am +depressed. Violet, what does it mean when you are depressed?" + +"Shall you wear your gray clothes for traveling?" she asked, a +little irrelevantly. + +"I have not made up my mind," Peter Ruff answered. "I thought of +wearing my brown, with a brown overcoat. What do you suggest?" + +"I like you in brown," she answered, simply. "I should change, if +I were you." + +He smiled faintly. + +"I believe," he said, "that you have a sort of superstition that as +I change my clothes I change my humors." + +"Should I be so very far wrong?" she asked. "Don't think that I +am laughing at you, Peter. The greatest men in the world have had +their foibles." + +Peter Ruff frowned. + +"We shall be away for several days," he said. "Be sure that you +take some wraps. It will be cold, crossing." + +"Are you going to close the office altogether?" she asked. + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"Put up a notice," he said - "'Back on Friday.' Pack up your books +and take them round to the Bank before you leave. The lift man will +call you a taxi-cab." + +He watched her preparations with a sort of gloomy calm. + +"I wish you'd tell me what is the matter with you?" she asked, as +she turned to follow her belongings. + +"I do not know," Peter Ruff said. "I, suppose I am suffering from +what you would call presentiments. Be at Charing-Cross punctually." + +"Why do you go at all?" she asked. "These people are of no further +use to you. Only the other day, you were saying that you should +not accept any more outside cases." + +"I must go," Peter Ruff answered. "I am not afraid of many things, +but I should be afraid of disobeying this letter." + +They had a comfortable journey down, a cool, bright crossing, and +found their places duly reserved for them in the French train. +Miss Brown, in her neat traveling clothes and furs, was conscious +of looking her best, and she did all that was possible to entertain +her traveling companion. But Peter Ruff seemed like a man who labors +under some sense of apprehension. He had faced death more than once +during the last few years - faced it without flinching, and with a +certain cool disregard which can only come from the highest sort of +courage. Yet he knew, when he read over again in the train that +brief summons which he was on his way to obey, that he had passed +under the shadow of some new and indefinable fear. He was perfectly +well aware, too, that both on the steamer and on the French train +he was carefully shadowed. This fact, however, did not surprise him. +He even went out of his way to enter into conversation with one of +the two men whose furtive glances into their compartment and whose +constant proximity had first attracted his attention. The man was +civil but vague. Nevertheless, when they took their places in the +dining-car, they found the two men at the next table. Peter Ruff +pointed them out to his companion. + +"'Double-Fours'!" he whispered. "Don't you feel like a criminal?" + +She laughed, and they took no more notice of the men. But as the +train drew near Paris, he felt some return of the depression which +had troubled him during the earlier part of the day. He felt a +sense of comfort in his companion's presence which was a thing +utterly strange to him. On the other hand, he was conscious of a +certain regret that he had brought her with him into an adventure +of which he could not foresee the end. + +The lights of Paris flashed around them - the train was gradually +slackening speed. Peter Ruff, with a sigh, began to collect their +belongings. + +"Violet," he said, "I ought not to have brought you." Something +in his voice puzzled her. There had been every few times, during +all the years she had known him, when she had been able to detect +anything approaching sentiment in his tone - and those few times +had been when he had spoken of another woman. + +"Why not?" she asked, eagerly. + +Peter Ruff looked out into the blackness, through the glittering +arc of lights, and perhaps for once he suffered his fancy to build +for him visions of things that were not of earth. If so, however, +it was a moment which swiftly passed. His reply was in a tone as +matter of fact as his usual speech. + +"Because," he said, "I do not exactly see the end of my present +expedition - I do not understand its object." + +"You have some apprehension?" she asked. + +"None at all," he answered. "Why should I? There is an unwritten +bargain," he added, a little more slowly, "to which I subscribed +with our friends here, and I have certainly kept it. In fact, the +balance is on my side. There is nothing for me to fear." + +The train crept into the Gare du Nord, and they passed through the +usual routine of the Customs House. Then, in an omnibus, they +rumbled slowly over the cobblestones, through the region of barely +lit streets and untidy cafes, down the Rue Lafayette, across the +famous Square and into the Rue de Rivoli. + +"Our movements," Peter Ruff remarked dryly, "are too well known for +us to attempt to conceal them. We may as well stop at one of the +large hotels. It will be more cheerful for you while I am away." + +They engaged rooms at the Continental. Miss Brown, whose apartments +were in the wing of the hotel overlooking the gardens, ascended at +once to her room. Peter Ruff, who had chosen a small suite on the +other side, went into the bar for a whiskey and soda. A man touched +him on the elbow. + +"For Monsieur," he murmured, and vanished. + +Peter Ruff turned and opened the note. It bore a faint perfume, it +had a coronet upon the flap of the envelope, and it was written in +a delicate feminine handwriting. + +DEAR Mr. RUFF: +If you are not too tired with your journey, will you call soon after +one o'clock to meet some old friends? + BLANCHE DE MAUPASSIM. + +Peter Ruff drank his whiskey and soda, went up to his rooms, and +made a careful toilet. Then he sent a page up for Violet, who came +down within a few minutes. She was dressed with apparent simplicity +in a high-necked gown, a large hat, and a single rope of pearls. In +place of the usual gold purse, she carried a small white satin bag, +exquisitely hand-painted. Everything about her bespoke that elegant +restraint so much a feature of the Parisian woman of fashion herself. +Peter Ruff, who had told her to prepare for supping out, was at first +struck by the simplicity of her attire. Afterwards, he came to +appreciate its perfection. + +They went to the Cafe de Paris, where they were the first arrivals. +People, however, began to stream in before they had finished their +meal, and Peter Ruff, comparing his companion's appearance with the +more flamboyant charms of these ladies from the Opera and the +theatres, began to understand the numerous glances of admiration +which the impressionable Frenchmen so often turned in their direction. +There was between them, toward the end of the meal, something which +amounted almost to nervousness. + +"You are going to keep your appointment to-night, Peter?" his +companion asked. + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"As soon as I have taken you home," he said. "I shall probably +return late, so we will breakfast here to-morrow morning, if you +like, at half-past twelve. I will send a note to your room when I +am ready." + +She looked him in the eyes. + +"Peter," she said, "supposing that note doesn't come!" + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"My dear Violet," he said, "you and I - or rather I, for you are +not concerned in this - live a life which is a little different +from the lives of most of the people around us. The million pay +their taxes, and they expect police protection in times of danger. +For me there is no such resource. My life has its own splendid +compensations. I have weapons with which to fight any ordinary +danger. What I want to explain to you is this - that if you hear +no more of me, you can do nothing. If that note does not come to +you in the morning, you can do nothing. Wait here for three days, +and after that go back to England. You will find a letter on your +desk, telling you there exactly what to do." + +"You have something in your mind," she said, "of which you have not +told me." + +"I have nothing," he answered, firmly. "Upon my honor, I know of +no possible cause of offense which our friends could have against +me. Their summons is, I will admit, somewhat extraordinary, but I +go to obey it absolutely without fear. You can sleep well, Violet. +We lunch here to-morrow, without a doubt." + +They drove back to the hotel almost in silence. Violet was looking +fixedly out of the window of the taxicab, as though interested in +watching the crowds upon the street. Peter Ruff appeared to be +absorbed in his own thoughts. Yet perhaps they were both of them +nearer to one another than either surmised. Their parting in the +hall of the Continental Hotel was unemotional enough. For a moment +Peter Ruff had hesitated while her hand had lain in his. He had +opened his lips as though he had something to say. Her eyes grew +suddenly softer - seemed to seek his as though begging for those +unspoken words. But Peter Ruff did not say them then. + +"I shall be back all right," he said. "Good night, Violet! Sleep +well!" + +He turned back towards the waiting taxicab. + +"Number 16, Rue de St. Quintaine," he told the man. It was not a +long ride. In less than a quarter of an hour, Peter Ruff presented +himself before a handsome white house in a quiet, aristocratic-looking +street. At his summons, the postern door flew open, and a man-servant +in plain livery stood at the second entrance. + +"Madame la Marquise?" Peter Ruff asked. + +The man bowed in silence, and took the visitor's hat and overcoat. +He passed along a spacious hall and into a delightfully furnished +reception room, where an old lady with gray hair sat in the midst +of a little circle of men. Peter Ruff stood, for a moment, upon +the threshold, looking around him. She held out her hands. + +"It is Monsieur Peter Ruff, is it not? At last, then, I am +gratified. I have wished for so long to see one who has become so +famous." + +Peter Ruff took her hands in his and raised them gallantly to his +lips. + +"Madame," he said, "this is a pleasure indeed. At my last visit +here, you were in Italy." + +"I grow old," she answered. "I leave Paris but little now. Where +one has lived, one should at least be content to die." + +"Madame speaks a philosophy," Peter Ruff answered, "which as yet she +has no need to learn." + +The old lady turned to a man who stood upon her right: + +"And this from an Englishman!" she exclaimed. + +There were others who took Peter Ruff by the hand then. The servants +were handing round coffee in little Sevres cups. On the sideboard +was a choice of liqueurs and bottles of wine. Peter Ruff found +himself hospitably entertained with both small talk and refreshments. +But every now and then his eyes wandered back to where Madame sat in +her chair, her hair as white as snow - beautiful still, in spite of +the cruel mouth and the narrow eyes. + +"She is wonderful!" he murmured to a man who stood by his side. + +"She is eighty-six," was the answer in a whisper, "and she knows +everything." + +As the clock struck two, a tall footman entered the room and wheeled +Madame's chair away. Several of the guests left at the same time. +Ruff, when the door was closed, counted those who remained. As he +had imagined would be the case, he found that there were eight. + +A tall, gray-bearded man, who from the first had attached himself to +Ruff, and who seemed to act as a sort of master of ceremonies, now +approached him once more and laid his hand upon his shoulder. + +"Mon ami," he said, "we will now discuss, if it pleases you, the +little matter concerning which we took the liberty of asking you to +favor us with a visit." + +"What, here?" Peter Ruff asked, in some surprise. + +His friend, who had introduced himself as Monsieur de Founcelles, +smiled. + +"But why not?" he asked. "Ah, but I think I understand!" he added, +almost immediately. "You are English, Monsieur Peter Ruff, and in +some respects you have not moved with the times. Confess, now, that +your idea of a secret society is a collection of strangely attired +men who meet in a cellar, and build subterranean passages in case of +surprise. In Paris, I think, we have gone beyond that sort of thing. +We of the 'Double-Four' have no headquarters save the drawing-room +of Madame; no hiding-places whatsoever; no meeting-places save the +fashionable cafes or our own reception rooms. The police follow us + - what can they discover? - nothing! What is there to discover? + - nothing! Our lives are lived before the eyes of all Paris. There +is never any suspicion of mystery about any of our movements. We +have our hobbies, and we indulge in them. Monsieur the Marquis de +Sogrange here is a great sportsman. Monsieur le Comte owns many +racehorses. I myself am an authority on pictures, and own a +collection which I have bequeathed to the State. Paris knows us +well as men of fashion and mark - Paris does not guess that we have +perfected an organization so wonderful that the whole criminal world +pays toll to us." + +"Dear me," Peter Ruff said, "this is very interesting!" + +"We have a trained army at our disposal," Monsieur de Founcelles +continued, "who numerically, as well as in intelligence, outnumber +the whole force of gendarmes in Paris. No criminal from any other +country can settle down here and hope for success, unless he joins +us. An exploit which is inspired by us cannot fail. Our agents +may count on our protection, and receive it without question." + +"I am bewildered," Peter Ruff said, frankly. "I do not understand +how you gentlemen - whom one knows by name so well as patrons of +sport and society, can spare the time for affairs of such importance." + +Monsieur de Founcelles nodded. + +"We have very valuable aid," he said. "There is below us - the +'Double-Four'- the eight gentlemen now present, an executive council +composed of five of the shrewdest men in France. They take their +orders from us. We plan, and they obey. We have imagination, and +special sources of knowledge. They have the most perfect machinery +for carrying out our schemes that it is possible to imagine. I do +not wish to boast, Mr. Ruff, but if I take a directory of Paris and +place after any man's name, whatever his standing or estate, a black +cross, that man dies before seven days have passed. You buy your +evening paper - a man has committed suicide! You read of a letter +found by his side: an unfortunate love affair - a tale of jealousy or +reckless speculation. Mr. Ruff, the majority of these explanations +are false. They are invented and arranged for by us. This year +alone, five men in Paris, of position, have been found dead, and +accounted, for excellent reasons, suicides. In each one of these +cases, Monsieur Ruff, although not a soul has a suspicion of it, +the removal of these men was arranged for by the' Double-Four.'" + +"I trust," Peter Ruff said, "that it may never be my ill-fortune to +incur the displeasure of so marvelous an association." + +"On the contrary, Monsieur Ruff," the other answered, "the attention +of the association has been directed towards certain incidents of +your career in a most favorable manner. We have spoken of you often +lately, Mr. Ruff, between ourselves. We arrive now at the object for +which we begged the honor of your visit. It is to offer you the +Presidency of our Executive Council." + +Peter Ruff had thought of many things, but he had not thought of +this! He gasped, recovered himself, and realized at once the +dangers of the position in which he stood. + +"The Council of Five!" he said thoughtfully. + +"Precisely," Monsieur de Founcelles replied. "The salary - forgive +me for giving such prominence to a matter which you doubtless +consider of secondary importance - is ten thousand pounds a year, +with a residence here and in London - also servants." + +"It is princely!" Peter Ruff declared. "I cannot imagine, Monsieur, +how you could have believed me capable of filling such a position." + +"There is not much about you, Mr. Ruff, which we do not know," +Monsieur de Founcelles answered. "There are points about your career +which we have marked with admiration. Your work over here was rapid +and comprehensive. We know all about your checkmating the Count von +Hern and the Comtesse de Pilitz. We have appealed to you for aid +once only - your response was prompt and brilliant. You have all the +qualifications we desire. You are still young, physically you are +sound, you speak all languages, and you are unmarried." + +"I am what?" Peter Ruff asked, with a start. + +"A bachelor," Monsieur de Founcelles answered. "We who have made +crime and its detection a life-long study, have reduced many matters +concerning it to almost mathematical exactitude. Of one thing we +have become absolutely convinced - it is that the great majority of +cases in which the police triumph are due to the treachery of women. +The criminal who steers clear of the other sex escapes a greater +danger than the detectives who dog his heels. It is for that reason +that we choose only unmarried men for our executive council." + +Peter Ruff made a gesture of despair. "And I am to be married in a +month!" he exclaimed. + +There was a murmur of dismay. If those other seven men had not once +intervened, it was because the conduct of the affair had been voted +into the hands of Monsieur de Founcelles, and there was little which +he had left unsaid. Nevertheless, they had formed a little circle +around the two men. Every word passing between them had been +listened to eagerly. Gestures and murmured exclamations had been +frequent enough. There arose now a chorus of voices which their +leader had some difficulty in silencing. + +"It must be arranged!" + +"But it is impossible - this!" + +"Monsieur Ruff amuses himself with us!" + +"Gentlemen," Peter Ruff said, "I can assure you that I do nothing of +the sort. The affair was arranged some months ago, and the young +lady is even now in Paris, purchasing her trousseau." + +Monsieur de Founcelles, with a wave of the hand, commanded silence. +There was probably a way out. In any case, one must be found. + +"Monsieur Ruff," he said, "putting aside, for one moment, your sense +of honor, which of course forbids you even to consider the possibility +of breaking your word - supposing that the young lady herself should +withdraw - " + +"You don't know Miss Brown!" Peter Ruff interrupted. "It is a +pleasure to which I hope to attain," Monsieur de Founcelles declared, +smoothly. "Let us consider once more my proposition. I take it for +granted that, apart from this threatened complication, you find it +agreeable?" + +"I am deeply honored by it," Peter Ruff declared. + +"Well, that being so," Monsieur de Founcelles said, more cheerfully, +"we must see whether we cannot help you. Tell me, who is this +fortunate young lady - this Miss Brown?" + +"She is a young person of good birth and some means," Peter Ruff +declared. "She is, in a small way, an actress; she has also been my +secretary from the first." Monsieur de Founcelles nodded his head +thoughtfully. + +"Ah!" he said. "She knows your secrets, then, I presume?" + +"She does," Peter Ruff assented. "She knows a great deal!" + +"A young person to be conciliated by all means," Monsieur de +Founcelles declared. "Well, we must see. When, Monsieur Ruff, may +I have the opportunity of making the acquaintance of this young lady?" + +"To-morrow morning, or rather this morning, if you will," Peter Ruff +answered. "We are taking breakfast together at the cafe de Paris. +It will give me great pleasure if you will join us." + +"On the contrary," Monsieur de Founcelles declared, "I must beg of +you slightly to alter your plans. I will ask you and Mademoiselle +to do me the honor of breakfasting at the Ritz with the Marquis de +Sogrange and myself, at the same hour. We shall find there more +opportunity for a short discussion." + +"I am entirely at your service," Peter Ruff answered. There were +signs now of a breaking-up of the little party. + +"We must all regret, dear Monsieur Ruff," Monsieur de Founcelles +said, as he made his adieux, "this temporary obstruction to the +consummation of our hopes. Let us pray that Mademoiselle will not +be unreasonable." + +"You are very kind," Peter Ruff murmured. + +Peter Ruff drove through the gray dawn to his hotel, in the splendid +automobile of Monsieur de Founcelles, whose homeward route lay in +that direction. It was four o'clock when he accepted his key from +a sleepy-looking clerk, and turned towards the staircase. The hotel +was wrapped in semi-gloom. Sweepers and cleaners were at work. The +palms had been turned out into the courtyard. Dust sheets lay over +the furniture. One person only, save himself and the untidy-looking +servants, was astir. From a distant corner which commanded the +entrance, he saw Violet stealing away to the corridor which led to +her part of the hotel. She had sat there all through the night to +see him come in - to be assured of his safety! Peter Ruff stared +after her disappearing figure as one might have watched a ghost. + +The luncheon-party was a great success. Peter Ruff was human +enough to be proud of his companion - proud of her smartness, which +was indubitable even here, surrounded as they were by Frenchwomen +of the best class; proud of her accent, of the admiration which she +obviously excited in the two Frenchmen. His earlier enjoyment of +the meal was a little clouded from the fact that he felt himself +utterly outshone in the matter of general appearance. No tailor had +ever suggested to him a coat so daring and yet so perfect as that +which adorned the person of the Marquis de Sogrange. The deep violet +of his tie was a shade unknown in Bond Street - inimitable - a true +education in color. They had the bearing, too, these Frenchmen! He +watched Monsieur de Founcelles bending over Violet, and he was +suddenly conscious of a wholly new sensation. He did not recognize + - could not even classify it. He only knew that it was not +altogether pleasant, and that it set the warm blood tingling through +his veins. + +It was not until they were sitting out in the winter garden, taking +their coffee and liqueurs, that the object of their meeting was +referred to. Then Monsieur de Founcelles drew Violet a little away +from the others, and the Marquis, with a meaning smile, took Peter +Ruff's arm and led him on one side. Monsieur de Founcelles wasted +no words at all. + +"Mademoiselle," he said, "Monsieur Ruff has doubtless told you that +last night I made him the offer of a great position among us." + +She looked at him with twinkling eyes. + +"Go on, please," she said. + +"I offered him a position of great dignity - of great responsibility," +Monsieur de Founcelles continued. "I cannot explain to you its exact +nature, but it is in connection with the most wonderful organization +of its sort which the world has ever known." + +"The 'Double-Four,'" she murmured. + +"Attached to the post is a princely salary and but one condition," +Monsieur de Founcelles said, watching the girl's face. "The condition +is that Mr. Ruff remains a bachelor." + +Violet nodded. + +"Peter's told me all this," she remarked. "He wants me to give +him up." + +Monsieur de Founcelles drew a little closer to his companion. There +was a peculiar smile upon his lips. + +"My dear young lady," he said softly, "forgive me if I point out to +you that with your appearance and gifts a marriage with our excellent +friend is surely not the summit of your ambitions! Here in Paris, I +promise you, here - we can do much better than that for you. You +have not, perhaps, a dot? Good! That is our affair. Give up our +friend here, and we deposit in any bank you like to name the sum of +two hundred and fifty thousand francs." + +"Two hundred and fifty thousand francs!" Violet repeated, slowly. + +Monsieur de Founcelles nodded. + +"It is enough?" he asked. + +She shook her head. + +"It is not enough," she answered. + +Monsieur de Founcelles raised his eyebrows. + +"We do not bargain," he said coldly, "and money is not the chief +thing in the world. It is for you, then, to name a sum." + +"Monsieur de Founcelles," she said, "can you tell me the amount of +the national debt of France?" + +"Somewhere about nine hundred million francs, I believe," he answered. + +She nodded. + +"That is exactly my price," she declared. + +"For giving up Peter Ruff?" he gasped. + +She looked at her employer thoughtfully. + +"He doesn't look worth it, does he?" she said, with a queer little +smile. "I happen to care for him, though - that's all." + +Monsieur de Founcelles shrugged his shoulders. He knew men and +women, and for the present he accepted defeat. He sighed heavily. + +"I congratulate our friend, and I envy him," he said. "If ever you +should change your mind, Mademoiselle - " + +"It is our privilege, isn't it?" she remarked, with a brilliant +smile. "If I do, I shall certainly let you know." + +On the way home, Peter Ruff was genial - Miss Brown silent. He had +escaped from a difficult position, and his sense of gratitude toward +his companion was strong. He showed her many little attentions on +the voyage which sometimes escaped him. From Dover, they had a +carriage to themselves. + +"Peter," Miss Brown said, after he had made her comfortable, "when +is it to be?" + +"When is what to be?" he asked, puzzled. + +"Our marriage," she answered, looking at him for a moment in most +bewildering fashion and then suddenly dropping her eyes. + +Peter Ruff returned her gaze in blank amazement. + +"What do you mean, Violet?" he exclaimed. + +"Just what I say," she answered, composedly. "When are we going to +be married?" + +Peter Ruff frowned. + +"What nonsense!" he said. "We are not going to be married. You +know that quite well." + +"Oh, no, I don't!" she declared, smiling at him in a heavenly fashion. +"At your request I have told Monsieur de Founcelles that we were +engaged. Incidentally, I have refused two hundred and fifty thousand +francs and, I believe, an admirer, for your sake. I declared that I +was going to marry you, and I must keep my word." + +Peter Ruff began to feel giddy. + +"Look here, Violet," he said, "you know very well that we arranged +all that between ourselves." + +"Arranged all that?" she repeated, with a little laugh. "Perhaps +we did. You asked me to marry you, and you posed as my fiancee. +You kept it up just as long as you - it suits me to keep it up a +little longer." + +"Do you mean to say - do you seriously mean that you expect me to +marry you?" he asked, aghast. + +"I do," she admitted. "I have meant you to for some time, Peter!" + +She was very alluring, and Peter Ruff hesitated. She held out her +hands and leaned towards him. Her muff fell to the floor. She had +raised her veil, and a faint perfume of violets stole into the +carriage. Her lips were a little parted, her eyes were saying +unutterable things. + +"You don't want me to sue you, do you, Peter?" she murmured. + +Peter Ruff sighed - and yielded. + + + +CHAPTER X + +WONDERFUL JOHN DORY + + +The woman who had been Peter Ruff's first love had fallen upon evil +days. Her prettiness was on the wane - powder and rouge, late hours, +and excesses of many kinds, had played havoc with it, even in these +few months. Her clothes were showy but cheap. Her boots themselves, +unclean and down at heel, told the story. She stood upon the +threshold of Peter Ruff's office, and looked half defiantly, half +doubtfully at Violet, who was its sole occupant. + +"Can I do anything for you?" the latter asked, noticing the woman's +hesitation. + +"I want to see Mr. Ruff," the visitor said. + +"Mr. Ruff is out at present," Violet answered. + +"When will he be in?" + +"I cannot tell you," Violet said. "Perhaps you had better leave a +message. Or will you call again? Mr. Ruff is very uncertain in +his movements." + +Maud sank into a chair. + +"I'll wait," she declared. + +"I am not sure," Violet remarked, raising her eyebrows, "whether +that will be convenient. There may be other clients in. Mr. +Ruff himself may not be back for several hours." + +"Are you his secretary?" Maud asked, without moving. + +"I am his secretary and also his wife," Violet declared. The woman +raised herself a little in her chair. + +"Some people have all the luck," she muttered. "It's only a few +months ago that Mr. Ruff was glad enough to take me out. You +remember when I used to come here?" + +"I remember," Violet assented. + +"I was all right then," the woman continued, "and now - now I'm +down and out," she added, with a little sob. "You see what I am +like. You look as though you didn't care to have me in the +office, and I don't wonder at it. You look as though you were +afraid I'd come to beg, and you are right - I have come to beg." + +"I am sure Mr. Ruff will do what he can for you," Violet said, +"although - " + +"I see you know all about it," Maud interrupted, with a hard little +laugh. "I came once to wheedle information out of him. I came to +try and betray the only man who ever really cared for me. Mr. Ruff +was too clever, and I am thankful for it. I have been as big a fool +as a woman can be, but I am paying - oh, I am paying for it right +enough!" + +She swayed in her chair, and Violet was only just in time to catch +her. She led the fainting woman to an inner room, made her +comfortable upon a sofa, and sent out for some food and a bottle of +wine. Down in the street below, John Dory, who had tracked his wife +to the building, was walking away with face as black as night. He +knew that Maud had lost her position, that she was in need of money + - almost penniless. He had waited to see to whom she would turn, +hoping - poor fool as he called himself - that she would come back +to him. And it was his enemy to whom she had gone! He had seen +her enter the building; he knew that she had not left it. In the +morning they brought him another report - she was still within. It +was the end, this, he told himself! There must be a settlement +between him and Peter Ruff! + +Mr. John Dory, who had arrived at Clenarvon Court in a four-wheel +cab from the nearest railway station, was ushered by the butler to +the door of one of the rooms on the ground floor, overlooking the +Park. A policeman was there on guard - a policeman by his attitude +and salute, although he was in plain clothes. John Dory nodded, +and turned to the butler. + +"You see, the man knows me," he said. "Here is my card. I am John +Dory from Scotland Yard. I want to have a few words with the +sergeant." + +The butler hesitated. + +"Our orders are very strict, sir," he said. "I am afraid that I +cannot allow you to enter the room without a special permit from +his lordship. You see, we have had no advice of your coming." + +John Dory nodded. + +"Quite right," he answered. "If every one were to obey his orders +as literally, there would be fewer robberies. However, you see that +this man recognizes me." + +The butler turned toward an elderly gentleman in a pink coat and +riding-breeches, who had just descended into the hall. + +"His lordship is here," he said. "He will give you permission, +without a doubt. There is a gentleman from Scotland Yard, your +lordship," he explained, "who wishes to enter the morning-room to +speak with the sergeant." + +"Inspector John Dory, at your lordship's service," saluting. "I +have been sent down from town to help in this little business." + +Lord Clenarvon smiled. + +"I should have thought that, under the circumstances," he said, +"two of you would have been enough. Still, it is not for me to +complain. Pray go in and speak to the sergeant. You will find him +inside. Rather dull work for him, I'm afraid, and quite unnecessary." + +"I am not so sure, your lordship," Dory answered. "The Clenarvon +diamonds are known all over the world, and I suppose there isn't a +thieves' den in Europe that does not know that they will remain here +exposed with your daughter's other wedding presents." + +Lord Clenarvon smiled once more and shrugged his shoulders. He was +a man who had unbounded faith in his fellow-creatures. + +"I suppose," he said, "it is the penalty one has to pay for historical +possessions. Go in and talk to the sergeant, by all means, Mr. Dory. +I hope that Graves will succeed in making you comfortable during your +stay here." + +John Dory was accordingly admitted into the room which was so +jealously guarded. At first sight, it possessed a somewhat singular +appearance. The windows had every one of them been boarded up, and +the electric lights consequently fully turned on. A long table +stood in the middle of the apartment, serving as support for a long +glass showcase, open at the top. Within this, from end to end, +stretched the presents which a large circle of acquaintances were +presenting to one of the most popular young women in society, on +the occasion of her approaching marriage to the Duke of Rochester. +In the middle, the wonderful Clenarvon diamonds, set in the form of +a tiara, flashed strange lights into the somberly lit apartment. At +the end of the table a police sergeant was sitting, with a little +pile of newspapers and illustrated journals before him. He rose to +his feet with alacrity at his superior's entrance. + +"Good morning, Saunders," John Dory said. "I see you've got it +pretty snug in here." + +"Pretty well, thank you, sir," Saunders answered. "Is there +anything stirring?" + +John Dory looked behind to be sure that the door was closed. Then he +stopped for a moment to gaze at the wonderful diamonds, and finally +sat on the table by his subordinate's side. + +"Not exactly that, Saunders," he said. "To tell you the truth, I +came down here because of that list of guests you sent me up." + +Saunders smiled. + +"I think I can guess the name you singled out, sir," he said. + +"It was Peter Ruff, of course," Dory said. "What is he doing here +in the house, under his own name, and as a guest?" + +"I have asked no questions, sir," Saunders answered. "I underlined +the name in case it might seem worth your while to make inquiries." + +John Dory nodded. + +"Nothing has happened, of course?" he asked. + +"Nothing," Saunders answered. "You see, with the windows all boarded +up, there is practically only the ordinary door to guard, so we feel +fairly secure." + +"No one hanging about?" the detective asked. "Mr. Ruff himself, for +instance, hasn't been trying to make your acquaintance?" + +"No sign of it, sir," the man answered. "I saw him pass through the +hall yesterday afternoon, as I went off duty, and he was in riding +clothes all splashed with mud. I think he has been hunting every day." + +John Dory muttered something between his lips, and turned on his heel. + +"How many men have you here, Saunders?" he asked. + +"Only two, sir, beside myself," the man replied. + +The detective went round the boarded windows, examining the work +carefully until he reached the door. + +"I am going to see if I can have a word with his lordship," he said. + +He caught Lord Clenarvon in the act of mounting his horse in the +great courtyard. + +"What is it, Mr. Dory?" the Earl asked, stooping down. + +"There is one name, your lordship, among your list of guests, +concerning which I wish to have a word with you," the detective said + - "the name of Mr. Peter Ruff." + +"Don't know anything about him," Lord Clenarvon answered, cheerfully. +"You must see my daughter, Lady Mary. It was she who sent him his +invitation. Seems a decent little fellow, and rides as well as the +best. You'll find Lady Mary about somewhere, if you'd like to ask +her." + +Lord Clenarvon hurried off, with a little farewell wave of his crop, +and John Dory returned into the house to make inquiries respecting +Lady Mary. In a very few minutes he was shown into her presence. +She smiled at him cheerfully. + +"Another detective!" she exclaimed. "I am sure I ought to feel +quite safe now. What can I do for you, Mr. Dory?" + +"I have had a list of the guests sent to me," Dory answered, "in +which I notice the name of Mr. Peter Ruff." + +Lady Mary nodded. + +"Well?" she asked. + +"I have just spoken to his lordship," the detective continued, "and +he referred me to you." + +"Do you want to know all about Mr. Ruff?" Lady Mary asked, smiling. + +"If your ladyship will pardon my saying so, I think that neither +you nor any one else could tell me that. What I wished to say was +that I understood that we at Scotland Yard were placed in charge of +your jewels until after the wedding. Mr. Peter Ruff is, as you may +be aware, a private detective himself." + +"I understand perfectly," Lady Mary said. "I can assure you, Mr. +Dory, that Mr. Ruff is here entirely as a personal and very valued +friend of my own. On two occasions he has rendered very signal +service to my family - services which I am quite unable to requite." + +"In that case, your ladyship, there is nothing more to be said. I +conceive it, however, to be my duty to tell you that in our opinion + - the opinion of Scotland Yard- there are things about the career +of Mr. Peter Ruff which need explanation. He is a person whom we +seldom let altogether out of our sight." + +Lady Mary laughed frankly. + +"My dear Mr. Dory," she said, "this is one of the cases, then, in +which I can assure you that I know more than Scotland Yard. There +is no person in the world in whom I have more confidence, and with +more reason, than Mr. Peter Ruff." + +John Dory bowed. + +"I thank your ladyship," he said. "I trust that your confidence +will never be misplaced. May I ask one more question?" + +"Certainly," Lady Mary replied, "so long as you make no insinuations +whatever against my friend." + +"I should be very sorry to do so," John Dory declared. "I simply +wish to know whether Mr. Ruff has any instructions from you with +reference to the care of your jewels?" + +"Certainly not," Lady Mary replied, decidedly. "Mr. Ruff is here +entirely as my guest. He has been in the room with the rest of us, +to look at them, and it was he, by the bye, who discovered a much +more satisfactory way of boarding the windows. Anything else, Mr. +Dory?" + +"I thank your ladyship, nothing!" the detective answered. "With +your permission, I propose to remain here until after the ceremony." + +"Just as you like, of course," Lady Mary said. "I hope you will be +comfortable." + +John Dory bowed, and returned to confer with his sergeant. +Afterwards, finding the morning still fine, he took his hat and went +for a walk in the park. + +As a matter of fact, this, in some respects the most remarkable of +the adventures which had ever befallen Mr. Peter Ruff, came to him +by accident. Lady Mary had read the announcement of his marriage +in the paper, had driven at once to his office with a magnificent +present, and insisted upon his coming with his wife to the party +which was assembling at Clenarvon Court in honor of her own +approaching wedding. Peter Ruff had taken few holidays of late +years, and for several days had thoroughly enjoyed himself. The +matter of the Clenarvon jewels he considered, perhaps, with a +slight professional interest; but so far as he could see, the +precautions for guarding them were so adequate that the subject +did not remain in his memory. He had, however, a very distinct and +disagreeable shock when, on the night of John Dory's appearance, +he recognized among a few newly-arrived guests the Marquis de +Sogrange. He took the opportunity, as soon as possible, of +withdrawing his wife from a little circle among whom they had been +talking, to a more retired corner of the room. She saw at once +that something had happened to disturb him. + +"Violet," he said, "don't look behind now - " + +"I recognized him at once," she interrupted. "It is the Marquis +de Sogrange." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"It will be best for you," he said, "not to notice him. Of course, +his presence here may be accidental. He has a perfect right to +enter any society he chooses. At the same time, I am uneasy."' + +She understood in a moment. + +"The Clenarvon diamonds!" she whispered. He nodded. + +"It is just the sort of affair which would appeal to the +'Double-Four,'" he said. "They are worth anything up to a quarter +of a million, and it is an enterprise which could scarcely be +attempted except by some one in a peculiar position. Violet, if +I were not sure that he had seen me, I should leave the house this +minute." + +"Why?" she asked, wonderingly. + +"Don't you understand," Peter Ruff continued, softly, "that I myself +am still what they call a corresponding member of the 'Double-Four,' +and they have a right to appeal to me for help in this country, as +I have a right to appeal to them for help or information in France? +We have both made use of one another, to some extent. No doubt, if +the Marquis has any scheme in his mind, he would look upon me as a +valuable ally." + +She turned slowly pale. + +"Peter," she said, "you wouldn't dream - you wouldn't dare to be so +foolish?" + +He shook his head firmly. + +"My dear girl," he said, "we talked that all out long ago. A few +years since, I felt that I had been treated badly, that I was an +alien, and that the hand of the law was against me. I talked wildly +then, perhaps. When I put up my sign and sat down for clients, I +meant to cheat the law, if I could. Things have changed, Violet. +I want nothing of that sort. I have kept my hands clean and I mean +to do so. Why, years ago," he continued, "when I was feeling at +my wildest, these very jewels were within my grasp one foggy night, +and I never touched them." + +"What would happen if you refused to help?" + +"I do not know," Peter Ruff answered. "The conditions are a little +severe. But, after all, there are no hard and fast rules. It +rests with the Marquis himself to shrug his shoulders and appreciate +my position. Perhaps he may not even exchange a word with me. Here +is Lord Sotherst coming to talk to you, and Captain Hamilton is +waiting for me to tell him an address. Remember, don't recognize +Sogrange." + +Dinner that night was an unusually cheerful meal. Peter Ruff, who +was an excellent raconteur, told many stories. The Marquis de +Sogrange was perhaps the next successful in his efforts to entertain +his neighbors. Violet found him upon her left hand, and although +he showed not the slightest signs of having ever seen her before, +they were very soon excellent friends. After dinner, Sogrange and +Peter Ruff drifted together on their way to the billiard-room. +Sogrange, however, continued to talk courteously of trifles until, +having decided to watch the first game, they found themselves alone +on the leather divan surrounding the room. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure, my friend," Sogrange said, watching +the ash of his cigar. "Professional?" + +Peter Ruff shook his head. "Not in the least," he answered. "I +have had the good fortune to render Lady Mary and her brother, at +different times, services which they are pleased to value highly. +We are here as ordinary guests - my wife and I." The Marquis sighed. + +"Ah, that wife of yours, Ruff," he said. "She is charming, I admit, +and you are a lucky man; but it was a price - a very great price +to pay." + +"You, perhaps, are ambitious, Marquis," Peter Ruff answered. "I +have not done so badly. A little contents me." + +Sogrange looked at him as though he were some strange creature. + +"I see!" he murmured. "I see! With you, of course, the commercial +side comes uppermost. Mr. Ruff, what do you suppose the income from +my estate amounts to?" Peter Ruff shook his head. He did not even +know that the Marquis was possessed of estates! + +"Somewhere about seven millions of francs," Sogrange declared. +"There are few men in Paris more extravagant than I, and I think +that we Frenchmen know what extravagance means. But I cannot spend +my income. Do you think that it is for the sake of gain that I have +come across the Channel to add the Clenarvon diamonds to our coffers?" + +Peter Ruff sat very still. + +"You mean that?" he said. + +"Of course!" Sogrange answered. "Didn't you realize it directly you +saw me? What is there, do you think, in a dull English house-party +to attract a man like myself? Don't you understand that it is the +gambler's instinct - the restless desire to be playing pitch-and-toss +with fate, with honor, with life and death, if you will - that brings +such as myself into the ranks of the 'Double-Four'? It is the +weariness which kills, Peter Ruff. One must needs keep it from one's +bones." + +"Marquis," Peter Ruff answered, "I do not profess to understand you. +I am not weary of life, in fact I love it. I am looking forward to +the years when I have enough money - and it seems as though that +time is not far off - when I can buy a little place in the country, +and hunt a little and shoot a little, and live a simple out-of-door +life. You see, Marquis, we are as far removed as the poles." + +"Obviously!" Sogrange answered. + +"Your confidence," Peter Ruff continued, "the confidence with which +you have honored me, inspires me to make you one request. I am here, +indeed, as a friend of the family. You will not ask me to help in +any designs you may have against the Clenarvon jewels?" + +Sogrange leaned back in his chair and laughed softly. His lips, when +they parted from his white teeth, resolved themselves into lines +which at that moment seemed to Peter Ruff more menacing than mirthful. +Sogrange was, in many ways, a man of remarkable appearance. + +"Oh, Peter Ruff," he said, "you are a bourgeois little person! You +should have been the burgomaster in a little German town, or a +French mayor with a chain about your neck. We will see. I make no +promises. All that I insist upon, for the present, is that you do +not leave this house-party without advising me - that is to say, if +you are really looking forward to that pleasant life in the country, +where you will hunt a little and shoot a little, and grow into the +likeness of a vegetable. You, with your charming wife! Peter Ruff, +you should be ashamed to talk like that! Come, I must play bridge +with the Countess. I am engaged for a table." + +The two men parted. Peter Ruff was uneasy. On his way from the +room, Lord Sotherst insisted upon his joining a pool. + +"Charming fellow, Sogrange," the latter remarked, as he chalked his +cue. "He has been a great friend of the governor's - he and his +father before him. Our families have intermarried once or twice." + +"He seems very agreeable," Peter Ruff answered, devoting himself to +the game. + +The following night, being the last but one before the wedding +itself, a large dinner-party had been arranged for, and the +resources of even so princely a mansion as Clenarvon Court were +strained to their utmost by the entertainment of something like +one hundred guests in the great banqueting-hall. The meal was +about half-way through when those who were not too entirely +engrossed in conversation were startled by hearing a dull, rumbling +sound, like the moving of a number of pieces of heavy furniture. +People looked doubtfully at one another. Peter Ruff and the +Marquis de Sogrange were among the first to spring to their feet. + +"It's an explosion somewhere," the latter cried. "Sounds close at +hand, too." + +They made their way out into the hall. Exactly opposite now was +the room in which the wedding presents had been placed, and where +for days nothing had been seen but a closed door and a man on duty +outside. The door now stood wide open, and in place of the single +electric light which was left burning through the evening, the +place seemed almost aflame. + +Ruff, Sogrange and Lord Sotherst were the first three to cross the +threshold. They were met by a rush of cold wind. Opposite to them, +two of the windows, with their boardings, had been blown away. +Sergeant Saunders was still sitting in his usual place at the end +of the table, his head bent upon his folded arms. The man who had +been on duty outside was standing over him, white with horror. +Far away in the distance, down the park, one could faintly hear +the throbbing of an engine, and Peter Ruff, through the chasm, saw +the lights of a great motor-car flashing in and out amongst the +trees. The room itself - the whole glittering array of presents + - seemed untouched. Only the great center-piece - the Clenarvon +diamonds - had gone. Even as they stood there, the rest of the +guests crowding into the open door, John Dory tore through, his +face white with excitement. Peter Ruff's calm voice penetrated +the din of tongues. + +"Lord Sotherst," he said, "you have telephones in the keepers' +lodges. There is a motor-car being driven southwards at full speed. +Telephone down, and have your gates secured. Dory, I should keep +every one out of the room. Some one must telephone for a doctor. +I suppose your man has been hurt." + +The guests were wild with curiosity, but Lord Clenarvon, with an +insistent gesture, led the way back to the diningroom. + +"Whatever has happened," he said, "the people who are in charge +there know best how to deal with the situation. There is a +detective from Scotland Yard and his subordinates, and a gentleman +in whom I also have most implicit confidence. We will resume our +dinner, if you please, ladies and gentlemen." + +Unwillingly, the people were led away. John Dory was already in +his great-coat, ready to spring into the powerful motor-car which +had been ordered out from the garage. A doctor, who had been among +the guests, was examining the man Saunders, who sat in that still, +unnatural position at the head of the table. + +"The poor fellow has been shot in the back of the head with some +peculiar implement," he said. "The bullet is very long - almost +like a needle - and it seems to have penetrated very nearly to the +base of the brain." + +"Is he dead?" Peter Ruff asked. + +The doctor shook his head. + +"No!" he answered. "An inch higher up and he must have died at +once. I want some of the men-servants to help me carry him to a +bedroom, and plenty of hot water. Some one else must go for my +instrument case." + +Lord Sotherst took these things in charge, and John Dory turned to +the man whom they had found standing over him. + +"Tell us exactly what happened," he said, briefly. + +"I was standing outside the door," the man answered. "I heard no +sound inside - there was nothing to excite suspicion in any way. +Suddenly there was this explosion. It took me, perhaps, thirty or +forty seconds to get the key out of my pocket and unlock the door. +When I entered, the side of the room was blown in like that, the +diamonds were gone, Saunders was leaning forward just in the +position he is in now, and there wasn't another soul in sight. +Then you and the others came." + +John Dory rushed from the room; they had brought him word that the +car was waiting. At such a moment, he was ready even to forget his +ancient enmity. He turned towards Peter Ruff, whose calm bearing +somehow or other impressed even the detective with a sense of power. + +"Will you come along?" he asked. + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"Thank you, Dory, no!" he said. "I am glad you have asked me, but +I think you had better go alone." + +A few seconds later, the pursuit was started. Saunders was carried +out of the room, followed by the doctor. There remained only Peter +Ruff and the man who had been on duty outside. Peter Ruff seated +himself where Saunders had been sitting, and seemed to be closely +examining the table all round for some moments. Once he took up +something from between the pages of the book which the Sergeant had +apparently been reading, and put it carefully into his own +pocketbook. Then he leaned back in the chair, with his hands +clasped behind his head and his eyes fixed upon the ceiling, as +though thinking intently. + +"Hastings," he said to the policeman, who all the time was pursuing +a stream of garrulous, inconsequent remarks, "I wonder whether +you'd step outside and see Mr. Richards, the butler. Ask him if +he would be so good as to spare me a moment." + +"I'll do it, sir," the man answered, with one more glance through +the open space. "Lord!" he added, "they must have been in through +there and out again like cats!" + +"It was quick work, certainly," Peter Ruff answered, genially, "but +then, an enterprise like this would, of course, only be attempted +by experts." + +Peter Ruff was not left alone long. Mr. Richards came hurrying in. + +"This is a terrible business, sir!" he said. "His lordship has +excused me from superintending the service of the dinner. Anything +that I can do for you I am to give my whole attention to. These +were my orders." + +"Very good of you, Richards," Peter Ruff answered, "very thoughtful +of his lordship. In the first place, then, I think, we will have +the rest of this jewelry packed in cases at once. Not that anything +further is likely to happen," he continued, "but still, it would be +just as well out of the way. I will remain here and superintend this, +if you will send a couple of careful servants. In the meantime, I +want you to do something else for me." + +"Certainly, sir," the man answered. + +"I want a plan of the house," Peter Ruff said, "with the names of +the guests who occupy this wing." + +The butler nodded gravely. + +"I can supply you with it very shortly, sir," he said. "There is no +difficulty at all about the plan, as I have several in my room; but +it will take me some minutes to pencil in the names." + +Peter Ruff nodded. + +"I will superintend things here until you return," he said. + +"It is to be hoped, sir," the man said, as he retreated, "that the +gentleman from Scotland Yard will catch the thieves. After all, +they hadn't more than ten minutes' start, and our Daimler is a +flyer." + +"I'm sure I hope so," Peter Ruff answered, heartily. + +But, alas! no such fortune was in store for Mr. John Dory. At +daybreak he returned in a borrowed trap from a neighboring railway +station. + +"Our tires had been cut," he said, in reply to a storm of questions. +"They began to go, one after the other, as soon as we had any speed +on. We traced the car to Salisbury, and there isn't a village +within forty miles that isn't looking out for it." + +Peter Ruff, who had just returned from an early morning walk, nodded +sympathetically. + +"Shall you be here all day, Mr. Dory?" he asked. "There's just a +word or two I should like to have with you." + +Dory turned away. He had forced himself, in the excitement of the +moment, to speak to his ancient enemy, but in this hour of his +humility the man's presence was distasteful to him. + +"I am not sure," he said, shortly. "It depends on how things may +turn out." + +The daily life at Clenarvon Court proceeded exactly as usual. +Breakfast was served early, as there was to be big day's shoot. +The Marquis de Sogrange and Peter Ruff smoked their cigarettes +together afterwards in the great hall. Then it was that Peter +Ruff took the plunge. + +"Marquis," he said, "I should like to know exactly how I stand with +you - the 'Double-Four,' that is to say - supposing I range myself +for an hour or so on the side of the law?" + +Sogrange smiled. + +"You amuse yourself, Mr. Ruff," he remarked genially. + +"Not in the least," Peter Ruff answered. "I am serious." + +Sogrange watched the blue cigarette smoke come down his nose. + +"My dear friend," he said, "I am no amateur at this game. When I +choose to play it, I am not afraid of Scotland Yard. I am not +afraid," he concluded, with a little bow, "even of you!" + +"Do you ever bet, Marquis?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"Twenty-five thousand francs," Sogrange said, smiling, "that your +efforts to aid Mr. John Dory are unavailing." + +Peter Ruff entered the amount in his pocketbook. "It is a bargain," +he declared. "Our bet, I presume, carries immunity for me?" + +"By all means," Sogrange answered, with a little bow. + +The Marquis beckoned to Lord Sotherst, who was crossing the hall. + +"My dear fellow," he said, "do tell me the name of your hatter in +London. Delions failed me at the last moment, and I have not a hat +fit for the ceremony to-morrow." + +"I'll lend you half-a-dozen, if you can wear them," Lord Sotherst +answered, smiling. "The governor's sure to have plenty, too." + +Sogrange touched his head with a smile. + +"Alas!" he said. "My head is small, even for a Frenchman's. +Imagine me - otherwise, I trust, suitably attired - walking to the +church to-morrow in a hat which came to my ears!" + +Lord Sotherst laughed. + +"Scotts will do you all right," he said. "You can telephone." + +"I shall send my man up," Sogrange determined. "He can bring me +back a selection. Tell me, at what hour is the first drive this +morning, and are the places drawn yet?" + +"Come into the gun-room and we'll see," Lord Sotherst answered. + +Peter Ruff made his way to the back quarters of the house. In a +little sitting-room he found the man he sought, sitting alone. +Peter Ruff closed the door behind him. + +"John Dory," he said, "I have come to have a few words with you." + +The detective rose to his feet. He was in no pleasant mood. +Though the telephone wires had been flashing their news every few +minutes, it seemed, indeed, as though the car which they had chased +had vanished into space. + +"What do you want to say to me?" he asked gruffly. + +"I want, if I can," Peter Ruff said earnestly, "to do you a service." + +Dory's eyes glittered. + +"I think," he said, "that I can do without your services." + +"Don't be foolish," Peter Ruff said. "You are harboring a grievance +against me which is purely an imaginary one. Now listen to the +facts. You employ your wife - which after all, Dory, I think, was +not quite the straight thing - to try and track down a young man +named Spencer Fitzgerald, who was formerly, in a small way, a client +of mine. I find your wife an agreeable companion - we become +friends. Then I discover her object, and know that I am being +fooled. The end of that little episode you remember. But tell me +why should you bear me ill-will for defending my friend and myself?" + +The detective came slowly up to Peter Ruff. He took hold of the +lapel of the other's coat with his left hand, and his right hand +was clenched. But Peter Ruff did not falter. + +"Listen to me," said Dory. "I will tell you what grudge I bear +against you. It was your entertainment of my wife which gave her +the taste for luxury and for gadding about. Mind, I don't blame +you for that altogether, but there the fact remains. She left me. +She went on the stage." + +"Stop!" Peter Ruff said. "You must still hold me blameless. She +wrote to me. I went out with her once. The only advice I gave her +was to return to you. So far as I am concerned, I have treated +her with the respect that I would have shown my own sister." + +"You lie!" Dory cried, fiercely. "A month ago, I saw her come to +your fiat. I watched for hours. She did not leave it - she did +not leave it all that night!" + +"If you object to her visit," Peter Ruff said quietly, "it is my +wife whom you must blame." + +John Dory relaxed his hand and took a quick step backwards. + +"Your wife?" he muttered. + +"Exactly!" Peter Ruff answered. "Maud - Mrs. Dory - called to see +me; she was ill - she had lost her situation - she was even, I +believe, faint and hungry. I was not present. My wife talked to +her and was sorry for her. While the two women were there together, +your wife fainted. She was put to bed in our one spare room, and +she has been shown every attention and care. Tell me, how long +is it since you were at home?" + +"Not for ten days," Dory answered, bitterly. "Why?" + +"Because when you go back, you will find your wife there," Peter +Ruff answered. "She has given up the stage. Her one desire is to +settle down and repay you for the trouble she has caused you. You +needn't believe me unless you like. Ask my wife. She is here. +She will tell you." + +Dory was overcome. He went back to his seat by the window, and he +buried his face for a moment in his hands. + +"Ruff," he said, "I don't deserve this. I've had bad times lately, +though. Everything has gone against me. I think I have been a +bit careless, with the troubles at home and that." + +"Stop!" Peter Ruff insisted. "Now I come to the immediate object +of my visit to you. You have had some bad luck at headquarters. +I know of it. I am going to help you to reinstate yourself +brilliantly. With that, let us shake hands and bury all the +soreness that there may be between us." + +John Dory stared at his visitor. + +"Do you mean this?" he asked. + +"I do," answered Peter. "Please do not think that I mean to make +any reflection upon your skill. It is just a chance that I was +able to see what you were not able to see. In an hour's time, you +shall restore the Clenarvon diamonds to Lord Clenarvon. You shall +take the reward which he has just offered, of a thousand pounds. +And I promise you that the manner in which you shall recover the +jewels shall be such that you will be famous for a long time to +come." + +"You are a wonderful man!" said Dory, hoarsely. "Do you mean, +then, that the jewels were not with those men in the motor-car?" + +"Of course not!" Peter Ruff answered. "But come along. The +story will develop." + +At half-past ten that morning, a motor-car turned out from the +garage at Clenarvon Court, and made its way down the avenue. In +it was a single passenger - the dark-faced Parisian valet of the +Marquis de Sogrange. As the car left the avenue and struck into +the main road, it was hailed by Peter Ruff and John Dory, who were +walking together along the lane. + +"Say, my man," Peter Ruff said, addressing the chauffeur, "are you +going to the station?" + +"Yes, sir!" the man answered. "I am taking down the Marquis de +Sogrange's servant to catch the eleven o'clock train to town." + +"You don't mind giving us a lift?" Peter Ruff asked, already +opening the door. + +"Certainly not, sir," the man answered, touching his hat. + +Peter Ruff and John Dory stepped into the tonneau of the car. The +man civilly lifted the hatbox from the seat, and made room for his +enforced companions. Nevertheless, it was easy to see that he was +not pleased. + +"There's plenty of room here for three," Peter Ruff said, cheerfully, +as they sat on either side of him. "Drive slowly, please, chauffeur. +Now, Mr. Lemprise," Peter Ruff added, "we will trouble you to +change places." + +"What do you mean?" the man called out, suddenly pale as death. + +He was held as though in a vice. John Dory's arm was through his +on one side, and Peter Ruff's on the other. Apart from that, the +muzzle of a revolver was pressed to his forehead. + +"On second thoughts," Peter Ruff said, "I think we will keep you +like this. Driver," he called out, "please return to the Court at +once." + +The man hesitated. + +"You recognize the gentleman who is with me?" Peter Ruff said. "He +is the detective from Scotland Yard. I have full authority from +Lord Clenarvon over all his servants. Please do as I say." + +The man hesitated no more. The car was backed and turned, the +Frenchman struggling all the way like a wild cat. Once he tried +to kick the hatbox into the road, but John Dory was too quick for +him. So they drove up to the front door of the Court, to be +welcomed with cries of astonishment from the whole of the shooting +party, who were just starting. Foremost among them was Sogrange. +They crowded around the car. Peter Ruff touched the hatbox with +his foot. + +"If we could trouble your Lordship," he said, "to open that hatbox, +you will find something that will interest you. Mr. Dory has +planned a little surprise for you, in which I have been permitted +to help." + +The women, who gathered that something was happening, came hastening +out from the hall. They all crowded round Lord Clenarvon, who was +cutting through the leather strap of the hatbox. Inside the silk +hat which reposed there, were the Clenarvon diamonds. Monsieur le +Marquis de Sogrange was one of the foremost to give vent to an +exclamation of delight. + +"Monsieur le Marquis," Peter Ruff said, "this should be a lesson to +you, I hope, to have the characters of your servants more rigidly +verified. Mr. Dory tells me that this man came into your employ at +the last moment with a forged recommendation. He is, in effect, a +dangerous thief." + +"You amaze me!" Sogrange exclaimed. + +"We are all interested in this affair," Peter Ruff said, "and my +friend John Dory here is, perhaps, too modest properly to explain +the matter. If you care to come with me, we can reconstruct, in a +minute, the theft." + +John Dory and Peter Ruff first of all handed over their captive, who +was now calm and apparently resigned, to the two policemen who were +still on duty in the Court. Afterwards, Peter Ruff led the way up +one flight of stairs, and turned the handle of the door of an +apartment exactly over the morning-room. It was the bedroom of +the Marquis de Sogrange. + +"Mr. Dory's chase in the motor-car," he said, "was, as you have +doubtless gathered now, merely a blind. It was obvious to his +intelligence that the blowing away of the window was merely a ruse +to cover the real method of the theft. If you will allow me, I will +show you how it was done." + +The floor was of hardwood, covered with rugs. One of these, near +the fireplace, Peter Ruff brushed aside. The seventh square of +hardwood from the mantelpiece had evidently been tampered with. +With very little difficulty, he removed it. + +"You see," he explained, "the ceiling of the room below is also of +paneled wood. Having removed this, it is easy to lift the second +one, especially as light screws have been driven in and string +threaded about them. There is now a hole through which you can see +into the room below. Has Dory returned? Ah, here he is!" + +The detective came hurrying into the room, bearing in his hand a +peculiar-shaped weapon, a handful of little darts like those which +had been found in the wounded man's head, and an ordinary +fishing-rod in a linen case. + +"There is the weapon," Peter Ruff said, "which it was easy enough +to fire from here upon the man who was leaning forward exactly +below. Then here, you will see, is a somewhat peculiar instrument, +which shows a great deal of ingenuity in its details." + +He opened the linen case, which was, by the bye, secured by a +padlock, and drew out what was, to all appearance, an ordinary +fishing-rod, fitted at the end with something that looked like an +iron hand. Peter Ruff dropped it through the hole until it reached +the table, moved it backwards and forwards, and turned round with +a smile. + +"You see," he said, "the theft, after all, was very simple. +Personally, I must admit that it took me a great deal by surprise, +but my friend Mr. Dory has been on the right track from the first. +I congratulate him most heartily." + +Dory was a little overcome. Lady Mary shook him heartily by the +hand, but as they trooped downstairs she stooped and whispered in +Peter Ruff's ear. + +"I wonder how much of this was John Dory," she said, smiling. + +Peter Ruff said nothing. The detective was already on the telephone, +wiring his report to London. Every one was standing about in little +knots, discussing this wonderful event. Sogrange sought Lord +Clenarvon, and walked with him, arm in arm, down the stairs. + +"I cannot tell you, Clenarvon," he said, "how sorry I am that I +should have been the means of introducing a person like this to the +house. I had the most excellent references from the Prince of +Strelitz. No doubt they were forged. My own man was taken ill +just before I left, and I had to bring some one." + +"My dear Sogrange," Lord Clenarvon said, "don't think of it. What +we must be thankful for is that we had so brilliant a detective in +the house." + +"As John Dory?" Sogrange remarked, with a smile. Lord Clenarvon +nodded. + +"Come," he said, "I don't see why we should lose a day's sport +because the diamonds have been recovered. I always felt that they +would turn up again some day or other. You are keen, I know, +Sogrange." + +"Rather!" the Marquis answered. "But excuse me for one moment. +There is Mrs. Ruff looking charming there in the corner. I must +have just a word with her." + +He crossed the room and bowed before Violet. + +"My dear lady," he said, "I have come to congratulate you. You +have a clever husband - a little cleverer, even, than I thought. +I have just had the misfortune to lose to him a bet of twenty-five +thousand francs." + +Violet smiled, a little uneasily. + +"Peter doesn't gamble as a rule," she remarked. + +Sogrange sighed. + +"This, alas, was no gamble!" he said. "He was betting upon +certainties, but he won. Will you tell him from me, when you see +him, that although I have not the money in my pocket at the moment, +I shall pay my debts. Tell him that we are as careful to do that +in France as we are to keep our word!" + +He bowed, and passed out with the shooting-party on to the terrace. +Peter Ruff came up, a few minutes later, and his wife gave him the +message. + +"I did that man an injustice," Peter Ruff said with a sigh of relief. +"I can't explain now, dear. I'll tell you all about it later in the +day." + +"There's nothing wrong, is there?" she asked him, pleadingly. + +"On the contrary," Peter Ruff declared, "everything is right. I +have made friends with Dory, and I have won a thousand pounds. When +we leave here, I am going to look out for that little estate in the +country. If you come out with the lunch, dear, I want you to watch +that man Hamilton's coat. It's exactly what I should like to wear +myself at my own shooting parties. See if you can make a sketch of +it when he isn't looking." + +Violet laughed. + +"I'll try," she promised. + + + + + +BOOK TWO + + + +CHAPTER I + +RECALLED BY THE DOUBLE-FOUR + + +It is the desire of Madame that you should join our circle here +on Thursday evening next at ten o'clock. + +The man looked up from the sheet of note-paper which he held in +his hand, and gazed through the open French-windows before which +he was standing. It was a very pleasant and very peaceful prospect. +There was his croquet lawn, smooth-shaven, the hoops neatly arranged, +the chalk-mark firm and distinct upon the boundary. Beyond, the +tennis court, the flower gardens, and, to the left, the walled fruit +garden. A little farther away was the paddock and orchard, and a +little farther still, the farm, which for the last four years had +been the joy of his life. His meadows were yellow with buttercups; +a thin line of willows showed where the brook wound its lazy way +through the bottom fields. It was a home, this, in which a man +could well lead a peaceful life, could dream away his days to the +music of the west wind, the gurgling stream, the song of birds, and +the low murmuring of insects. Peter Ruff stood like a man turned +to stone, for, even as he looked, these things passed away from +before his eyes, the roar of the world beat in his ears - the world +of intrigue, of crime, the world where the strong man hewed his way +to power, and the weaklings fell like corn before the sickle. + +"It is the desire of Madame!" + +Peter Ruff clenched his fists as he stood there. It was a message +from a world every memory of which had been deliberately crushed, +a world, indeed, in which he had seemed no longer to hold any place. +Scarcely yet of middle age, well-preserved, upright, with neat +figure dressed in the conventional tweeds and gaiters of an English +country gentleman, he not only had loved his life, but he looked +the part. He was Peter Ruff, Esquire, of Aynesford Manor, in the +county of Somerset. It could not be for him, this strange summons. + +The rustle of a woman's soft draperies broke in upon his reverie. +He turned around with his usual morning greeting upon his lips. If +country life had agreed with Peter Ruff, it had transformed his wife. +Her cheeks were no longer pale; the extreme slimness of her figure +was no longer apparent. She was just a little more matronly, perhaps, +but without doubt a most beautiful woman. She came smiling across +the room - a dream of white muslin and pink ribbons. + +"Another forage bill, my dear Peter?" she demanded, passing her arm +through his. "Put it away and admire my new morning gown. It came +straight from Paris, and you will have to pay a great deal of money +for it." + +He pulled himself together - he had no secrets from his wife. + +"Listen," he said, and read aloud: + + RUE DE ST. QUINTAINE. + PARIS. +DEAR Mr. RUFF, +It is a long time since we had the pleasure of a visit from you. +It is the desire of Madame that you should join our circle here on +Thursday evening next at ten o'clock. + SOGRANGE. + +Violet was a little perplexed. She failed, somehow, to recognize +the sinister note underlying those few sentences, "It sounds +friendly enough," she remarked. "You are not obliged to go, of +course." + +Peter Ruff smiled grimly. + +"Yes, it sounds all right," he admitted. + +"They won't expect you to take any notice of it, surely?" she +continued. "When you bought this place, Peter, and left your +London offices, you gave them definitely to understand that you +had retired into private life, that all these things were finished +with you." + +"There are some things," Peter Ruff said, slowly, "which are never +finished." + +"But you resigned," she reminded him. "I remember your letter +distinctly." + +"From the Double-Four," he answered, "no resignation is recognized +save death. I did what I could and they accepted my explanations, +gracefully and without comment. Now that the time has come, however, +when they think they need my help, you see they do not hesitate to +claim it." + +"You will not go, Peter? You will not think of going?" she begged. + +He twisted the letter between his fingers and sat down to his +breakfast. + +"No," he said, "I shall not go." + +That morning Peter Ruff spent upon his farm, looking over his stock, +examining some new machinery, and talking crops with his bailiff. +In the afternoon he played his customary round of golf. It was the +sort of day which, as a rule, he found completely satisfactory, yet, +somehow or other, a certain sense of weariness crept in upon him +toward its close. + +Two days later he received another letter. This time it was couched +in different terms. On a square card, at the top of which was +stamped a small coronet, he read as follows: + +Madame de Maupassim at home, Saturday evening, May 2nd, at ten +o'clock. + +In small letters at the bottom left-hand corner were added the words: + +To meet friends. + +Peter Ruff put the card upon the fire and went out for a morning's +rabbit shooting with his keeper. When he returned luncheon was +ready, but Violet was absent. He rang the bell. + +"Where is your mistress, Jane?" he asked the parlor-maid. + +The girl had no idea. Mrs. Ruff had left for the village several +hours before; since then she had not been seen. Peter Ruff ate his +luncheon alone, and understood. The afternoon wore on, and at +night he traveled up to London. He knew better than to waste time +by purposeless inquiries. Instead he took the nine o'clock train +the next morning to Paris. + +It was a chamber of death into which he was ushered, dismal - yet, +of its sort, unique, marvelous. The room itself might have been +the sleeping apartment of an empress - lofty, with white paneled +walls, adorned simply with gilded lines; with high windows, closely +curtained now, so that neither sound nor the light of day might +penetrate into the room. In the middle of the apartment upon a +canopy bedside, which had once adorned a king's palace, lay Madame +de Maupassim. Her face was already touched with the finger of +death, yet her eyes were undimmed and her lips unquivering. Her +hands, covered with rings, lay out before her upon the lace coverlid. +Supported by many pillows, she was issuing her last instructions +with the cold precision of the man of affairs who makes the necessary +arrangements for a few days, absence from his business. + +Peter Ruff, who had not even been allowed sufficient time to change +his traveling clothes, was brought without hesitation to her bedside. +She looked at him in silence for a moment, with a cold glitter in +her eyes. + +"You are four days late, Monsieur Peter Ruff," she remarked. "Why +did you not obey your first summons? + +"Madame," he answered, "I thought there must be a misunderstanding. +Four years ago, I gave notice to the council that I had married and +retired into private life. A country farmer is of no further use +to the world." + +The woman's thin lip curled. + +"From death and the Double Four," she said, "there is no resignation +which counts. You are as much our creature to-day, as I am the +creature of the disease which is carrying me across the threshold of +death." + +Peter Ruff remained silent. The woman's words seemed full of dread +significance. Besides, how was it possible to contradict the dying? + +"It is upon the unwilling of the world," she continued, speaking +slowly, yet with extraordinary distinctness, "that its greatest +honors are often conferred. The name of my successor has been +balloted for, secretly. It is you, Peter Ruff, who have been +chosen." + +This time he was silent because he was literally bereft of words. +This woman was dying and fancying strange things! He looked from +one to the other of the stern, pale faces of those who were gathered +around her bedside. Seven of them there were - the same seven. At +that moment their eyes were all focused upon him. Peter Ruff shrank +back. + +"Madame," he murmured, "this cannot be." + +Her lips twitched as though she would have smiled. "What we have +decided," she said, "we have decided. Nothing can alter that, not +even the will of Mr. Peter Ruff." + +"I have been out of the world for four years," Peter Ruff protested. +"I have no longer ambitions, no longer any desire - " + +"You lie!" the woman interrupted. "You lie or you do yourself an +injustice. We gave you four years, and looking into your face, I +think that it has been enough. I think that the weariness is there +already. In any case, the charge which I lay upon you in these my +last moments, is one which you can escape by death only." + +A low murmur of voices from those others repeated her words. + +"By death only!" + +Peter Ruff opened his lips, but closed them again without speech. +A wave of emotion seemed passing through the room. Something +strange was happening. It was Death itself, which had come among +them. + +A morning journalist wrote of the death of Madame eloquently, and +with feeling. She had been a broad-minded aristocrat, a woman of +brilliant intellect and great friendships, a woman of whose inner +life during the last ten or fifteen years little was known, yet who, +in happier times, might well have played a great part in the history +of her country. + +Peter Ruff drove back from the cemetery with the Marquis de Sogrange, +and, for the first time since the death of Madame, serious subjects +were spoken of. + +"I have waited here patiently," he declared, "but there are limits. +I want my wife." + +Sogrange took him by the arm and led him into the library of the +house in the Rue de St. Quintaine. The six men who were already +there waiting rose to their feet. + +"Gentlemen," the Marquis said, "is it your will that I should be +spokesman?" + +There was a murmur of assent. Then Sogrange turned toward his +companion, and something new seemed to have crept into his manner + - a solemn, almost a threatening note. + +"Peter Ruff," he continued, "you have trifled with the one +organization in this world which has never allowed liberties to be +taken with it. Men who have done greater service than you have +died, for the disobedience of a day. You have been treated +leniently, according to the will of Madame. According to her will, +and in deference to the position which you must now take up among +us, we will treat you as no other has ever been treated by us. The +Double-Four admits your leadership and claims you for its own." + +"I am not prepared to discuss anything of the sort," Peter Ruff +declared, doggedly, "until my wife is restored to me." + +The Marquis smiled. + +"The traditions of your race, Mr. Ruff," he said, "are easily +manifest in you. Now hear our decision. Your wife shall be +restored to you on the day when you take up this position to which +you have become entitled. Sit down and listen." + +Peter Ruff was a rebel at heart, but he felt the grip of iron. + +"During these four years when you, my friend, have been growing +turnips and shooting your game, events in the great world have +marched, new powers have come into being, a new page of history +has been opened. As everything which has good at the heart evolves +toward the good, so we of the Double-Four have lifted our great +enterprise onto a higher plane. The world of criminals is still at +our beck and call, we still claim the right to draw the line between +moral theft and immoral honesty, but to-day the Double-Four is +concerned with greater things. Within the four walls of this room, +within the hearing of these my brothers, whose fidelity is as sure +as the stones of Paris, I tell you a great secret. The government +of our country has craved for our aid and the aid of our organization. +It is no longer the wealth of the world alone, which we may control, +but the actual destinies of nations." + +"What I suppose you mean to say is," Peter Ruff remarked, "that +you've been going in for politics?" + +"You put it crudely, my English bull-dog," Sogrange answered, "but +you are right. We are occupied now by affairs of international +importance. More than once, during the last few month, ours has +been the hand which has changed the policy of an empire." + +"Most interesting," Peter Ruff declared, "but so far as I, +personally, am concerned - " + +"Listen," interrupted the Marquis. "Not a hundred yards from the +French Embassy, in London, there is waiting for you a house and +servants no less magnificent than the Embassy itself. You will +become the ambassador in London of the Double-Four, titular head of +our association, a personage whose power is second to none in your +great city. I do not address words of caution to you, my friend, +because we have satisfied ourselves as to your character and +capacity before we consented that you should occupy your present +position. But I ask you to remember this. The will of Madame +lives even beyond the grave. The spirit which animated her when +alive breathes still in all of us. In London you will wield a great +power. Use it for the common good. And, remember this - the +Double-Four has never failed, the Double-Four never can fail." + +"I am glad to hear you are so confident," Peter Ruff said. "Of +course, if I have to take this thing on, I shall do my best, but if +I might venture to allude, for a moment, to anything so trifling as +my own domestic affairs, I am very anxious to know about my wife." + +Sogrange smiled. + +"You will find Mrs. Ruff awaiting you in London," he announced. +"Your address is Porchester House, Porchester Square." + +"When do I go there?" Peter Ruff asked. + +"To-night," was the answer. + +"And what do I do when I get there?" he persisted. + +"For three days," the Marquis told him, "you will remain indoors, +and give audience to whoever may come to you. At the end of that +time, you will understand a little more of our purpose and our +objects - perhaps, even, of our power." + +"I see difficulties," Peter Ruff remarked. "There will be a good +many people who will remember me when I had offices in Southampton +Row. My name, you see, is uncommon." + +Sogrange drew a document from the breast pocket of his coat. + +"When you leave this house to-night," he proclaimed, "we bid good-by +forever to Mr. Peter Ruff. You will find in this envelope the title +deeds of a small property which is our gift to you. Henceforth you +will be known by the name and title of your estates." + +"Title!" Peter Ruff gasped. + +"You will reappear in London," Sogrange continued, "as the Baron de +Grost." + +Peter Ruff shook his head. + +"It won't do," he declared, "people will find me out." + +"There is nothing to be found out," the Marquis went on, a little +wearily. "Your country life has dulled your wits, Baron. The title +and the name are justly yours - they go with the property. For the +rest, the history of your family, and of your career up to the moment +when you enter Porchester House to-night, will be inside this packet. +You can peruse it upon the journey, and remember that we can, at all +times, bring a hundred witnesses, if necessary, to prove that you +are who you declare yourself to be. When you get to Charing-Cross, +do not forget that it will be the carriage and servants of the Baron +de Grost which await you." + +Peter Ruff shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well," he said, thoughtfully, "I suppose I shall get used to it." + +"Naturally," Sogrange answered. "For the moment, we are passing +through a quiet time, necessitated by the mortal illness of Madame. +You will be able to spend the next few weeks in getting used to your +new position. You will have a great many callers, inspired by us, +who will see that you make the right acquaintances and that you join +the right clubs. At the same time, let me warn you always to be +ready. There is trouble brewing just now all over Europe. In one +way or another, we may become involved at any moment. The whole +machinery of our society will be explained to you by your secretary. +You will find him already installed at Porchester House. A glass +of wine, Baron, before you leave." + +Peter Ruff glanced at the clock. + +"There are my things to pack," he began - + +Sogrange smiled. + +"Your valet is already on the front seat of the automobile which is +waiting," he remarked. "You will find him attentive and trustworthy. +The clothes which you brought with you we have taken the liberty +of dispensing with. You will find others in your trunk, and at +Porchester House you can send for any tailor you choose. One toast, +Baron. We drink to the Double-Four - to the great cause!" + +There was a murmur of voices. Sogrange lifted once more his glass. + +"May Peter Ruff rest in peace!" he said. "We drink to his ashes. +We drink long life and prosperity to the Baron de Grost!" + + + +CHAPTER II + +PRINCE ALBERT'S CARD DEBTS + + +It was half past twelve, and every table at the Berkeley Bridge +Club was occupied. On the threshold of the principal room a +visitor, who was being shown around, was asking questions of the +secretary. + +"Is there any gambling here?" he inquired. + +The secretary shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am afraid that some of them go a little beyond the club points," +he answered. "You see that table against the wall? They are +playing shilling auction there." + +The table near the wall was, perhaps, the most silent. The visitor +looked at it last and most curiously. + +"Who is the dissipated-looking boy playing there?" he asked. + +"Prince Albert of Trent," the secretary answered. + +"And who is the little man, rather like Napoleon, who sits in the +easy-chair and watches?" + +"The Baron de Grost." + +"Never heard of him," the visitor declared. + +"He is a very rich financier who has recently blossomed out in +London," the secretary said. "One sees him everywhere. He has a +good-looking wife, who is playing in the other room." + +"A good-looking wife," the visitor remarked, thoughtfully. "But, yes! +I thank you very much, Mr. Courtledge for showing me round. I will +find my friends now." + +He turned away, leaving Courtledge alone, for a minute or two, on +the threshold of the card room. The secretary's attention was +riveted upon the table near the wall, and the frown on his face +deepened. Just as he was moving off, the Baron de Grost rose and +joined him. + +"They are playing a little high in here this evening," the latter +remarked quietly. + +Courtledge frowned. + +"I wish I had been in the club when they started," he said, gloomily. +"My task is all the more difficult now." + +The Baron de Grost looked pensively, for a moment, at the cigarette +which he was carrying. + +"By the bye, Mr. Courtledge," he asked, with apparent irrelevance, +"what was the name of the tall man with whom you were talking just +now?" + +"Count von Hern. He was brought in by one of the attaches at the +German Embassy." + +Baron de Grost passed his arm through the secretary's and led him +a little way through the corridor. + +"I thought I recognized our friend," he remarked. "His presence +here this evening is quite interesting." + +"Why this evening?" + +Baron de Grost avoided the question. + +"Mr. Courtledge," he said, "I think that you will allow me to ask +you something without thinking me impertinent. You know that my +wife and I have taken some interest in Prince Albert. It is on his +account, is it not, that you look so gloomy to-night, as though you +had an execution in front of you?" + +Courtledge nodded. + +"I am afraid," he announced, "that we have come to the end of our +tether with that young man. It's a pity, too, for he isn't a bad +sort, and it will do the club no good if it gets about. But he +hasn't settled up for a fortnight, and the matter came before the +committee this afternoon. He owes one man over seven hundred pounds." + +The Baron de Grost listened gravely. + +"Are you going to speak to him to-night?" he asked. + +"I must. I am instructed by the committee to ask him not to come to +the club again until he has discharged his obligations." + +De Grost smoked thoughtfully for a few moments. + +"Well," he said, "I suppose there is no getting out of it. Don't +rub it in too thick, though. I mean to have a talk with the boy +afterwards, and if I am satisfied with what he says, the money will +be all right." + +Courtledge raised his eyebrows. + +"You know, of course, that he has a very small income and no +expectations?" + +"I know that," Baron de Grost answered. "At the same time, it is +hard to forget that he really is a member of the royal house, even +though the kingdom is a small one." + +"Not only is the kingdom a small one," Courtledge remarked, "but +there are something like five lives between him and the succession. +However, it's very good-natured of you, Baron, to think of lending +him a hand. I'll let him down as lightly as I can. You know him +better than any one; I wonder if you could make an excuse to send +him out of the room? I'd rather no one saw me talking to him." + +"Quite easy," said the Baron. "I'll manage it." + +The rubber was just finishing as De Grost re-entered the room. +He touched the young man, who had been the subject of their +conversation, upon the shoulder. + +"My wife would like to speak to you for a moment," he said. "She +is in the other room." + +Prince Albert rose to his feet. He was looking very pale, and the +ash-tray in front of him was littered with cigarette ends. + +"I will go and pay my respects to the Baroness," he declared. "It +will change my luck, perhaps. Au revoir!" + +He passed out of the room and all eyes followed him. + +"Has the Prince been losing again to-night?" the Baron asked. + +One of the three men at the table shrugged his shoulders. + +"He owes me about five hundred pounds," he said, "and to tell you +the truth, I'd really rather not play any more. I don't mind high +points, but his doubles are absurd." + +"Why not break up the table?" the Baron suggested. "The boy can +scarcely afford such stakes." + +He strolled out of the room in time to meet the Prince, who was +standing in the corridor. A glance at his face was sufficient - the +secretary had spoken. He would have hurried off, but the Baron +intercepted him. + +"You are leaving, Prince?" he asked. + +"Yes!" was the somewhat curt reply. + +"I will walk a little way with you, if I may," De Grost continued. +"My wife brought Lady Brownloe, and the brougham only holds two +comfortably." + +Prince Albert made no reply. He seemed just then scarcely capable +of speech. When they had reached the pavement, however, the Baron +took his arm. + +"My young friend," he inquired, "how much does it all amount to?" + +The Prince turned towards him with darkening face. + +"You knew, then," he demanded, "that Mr. Courtledge was going to +speak to me of my debts?" + +"I was sorry to hear that it had become necessary," the Baron +answered. "You must not take it too seriously. You know very well +that at a club like the Berkeley, which has such a varied membership, +card debts must be settled on the spot." + +"Mine will be settled before mid-day to-morrow," the young man +declared, sullenly. "I am not sure that it may not be to-night." + +De Grost was silent for a moment. They had turned into Piccadilly. +He summoned a taxicab. + +"Do you mind coming round to my house and talking to me, for a few +minutes?" he asked. + +The young man hesitated. + +"I'll come round later on," he suggested. "I have a call to make +first." + +De Grost held open the door of the taxicab. + +"I want a talk with you," he said, "before you make that call." + +"You speak as though you knew where I was going," the Prince remarked. + +His companion made no reply, but the door of the taxicab was still +open and his hand had fallen ever so slightly upon the other's +shoulder. The Prince yielded to the stronger will. He stepped +inside. + +They drove in silence to Porchester Square. The Baron led the way +through into his own private sanctum, and closed the door carefully. +Cigars, cigarettes, whiskey and soda, and liqueurs were upon the +sideboard. + +"Help yourself, Prince," he begged, "and then, if you don't mind, +I am going to ask you a somewhat impertinent question." + +The Prince drank the greater part of a whiskey and soda and lit a +cigarette. Then he set his tumbler down and frowned. + +"Baron de Grost," he said, "you have been very kind to me since I +have had the pleasure of your acquaintance. I hope you will not ask +me any question that I cannot answer." + +"On the contrary," his host declared, "the question which I shall +ask will be one which it will be very much to your advantage to +answer. I will put it as plainly as possible. You are going, as +you admit yourself, to pay your card debts to-night or to-morrow +morning, and you are certainly not going to pay them out of your +income. Where is the money coming from?" + +Albert of Trent seemed suddenly to remember that after all he was +of royal descent. He drew himself up and bore himself, for a +moment, as a Prince should. + +"Baron de Grost," he said, "you pass the limits of friendship when +you ask such a question. I take the liberty of wishing you +good-night." + +He moved towards the door. The Baron, however, was in the way - a +strong, motionless figure, and his tone, when he spoke again, was +convincing. + +"Prince," he declared, "I speak in your own interests. You have +not chosen to answer my question. Let me answer it for you. The +money to pay your debts, and I know not how much besides, was to +come from the Government of a country with whom none of your name +or nationality should willingly have dealings." + +The Prince started violently. The shock caused him to forget his +new-found dignity. + +"How, in the devil's name, do you know that?" he demanded. + +"I know more," the Baron continued. "I know the consideration +which you were to give for this money." + +Then the Prince began plainly to show the terror which had crept +into his heart - the terror and the shame. He looked at his host +like a man dazed with hearing strange things. + +"It comes to nothing," he said, in a hard, unnatural tone. "It is +a foolish bargain, indeed. Between me and the throne are four +lives. My promise is not worth the paper it is written upon. I +shall never succeed." + +"That, Prince, is probably where you are misinformed," the Baron +replied. "You are just now in disgrace with your family, and you +hear from them only what the newspapers choose to tell." + +"Has anything been kept back from me?" the Prince asked. + +"Tell me this first," De Grost insisted. "Am I not right in assuming +that you have signed a solemn undertaking that, in the event of your +succeeding to the throne of your country, you will use the whole of +your influence towards concluding a treaty with a certain Power, one +of the provisions of which is that that Power shall have free access +to any one of your ports in the event of war with England?" + +There was a moment's silence. The Prince clutched the back of the +chair against which he was leaning. + +"Supposing it were true?" he muttered. "It is, after all, an idle +promise." + +The Baron shook his head slowly. + +"Prince," he said, "it is no such idle promise as it seems. The man +who is seeking to trade upon your poverty knew more than he would +tell you. You may have read in the newspapers that your two cousins +are confined to the palace with slight colds. The truth has been +kept quiet, but it is none the less known to a few of us. The +so-called cold is really a virulent attack of diphtheria, and, +according to to-night's reports, neither Prince Cyril nor Prince +Henry are expected to live." + +"Is this true?" the Prince gasped. + +"It is true," his host declared. "My information can be relied upon." + +The Prince sat down suddenly. He was looking whiter than ever, and +very scared. + +"Even then," he murmured, "there is John." + +"You have been out of touch with your family for some months," De +Grost reminded his visitor. "One or two of us, however, know what +you, probably, will soon hear. Prince John has taken the vows and +solemnly resigned, before the Archbishop, his heirship. He will +be admitted into the Roman Catholic Church in a week or two, and +will go straight to a monastery." + +"It's likely enough," the Prince gasped. "He always wanted to be a +monk." + +"You see now," the Baron continued, "that your friend's generosity +was not so wonderful a thing. Count von Hern was watching you +to-night at the Bridge Club. He has gone home; he is waiting now +to receive you. Apart from that, the man Nisch, with whom you have +played so much, is a confederate of his, a political tout, not to +say a spy." + +"The brute!" Prince Albert muttered. "I am obliged to you, Baron, +for having warned me," he added, rising slowly to his feet. "I shall +sign nothing. There is another way." + +De Grost shook his head. + +"My young friend," he said, "there is another way, indeed, but not +the way you have in your mind at this moment. I offer you an +alternative. I will give you notes for the full amount you owe +to-night, so that you can, if you will, go back to the club direct +from here and pay everything - on one condition." + +"Condition!" + +"You must promise to put your hand to no document which the Count +von Hern may place before you, and pledge your word that you have +no further dealings with him." + +"But why should you do this for me?" the Prince exclaimed. "I do +not know that I shall ever be able to pay you." + +"If you succeed to the throne, you will pay me," the Baron de Grost +said. "If you do not succeed, remember that I am a rich man, and +that I shall miss this money no more than the sixpence which you +might throw to a crossing-sweeper." + +The Prince was silent. His host unlocked a small cabinet and took +from it a bundle of notes. + +"Tell me the whole amount you owe," he insisted, "every penny, mind." + +"Sixteen hundred pounds," was the broken reply. + +De Grost counted a little roll and laid it upon the table. + +"There are two thousand pounds," he said. "Listen, Prince. A name +such as you bear carries with it certain obligations. Remember that, +and try and shape your life accordingly. Take my advice - go back +to your own country and find some useful occupation there, even if +you only rejoin your regiment and wear its uniform. The time may +come when your country will require you, for her work comes sooner +or later to every man. You are leading a rotten life over here, a +life which might have led to disaster and dishonor, a life, as you +know, which might have ended in your rooms to-night with a small +bullet hole in your forehead. Brave men do not die like that. Take +up the money, please." + +The Baron de Grost sent a cipher dispatch to Paris that night, and +received an answer which pleased him. + +"It is a small thing," he read, "but it is well done. Particulars +of a matter of grave importance will reach you to-morrow." +letter. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE AMBASSADOR'S WIFE + + +Alone in his study, with fast-locked door, Peter, Baron de Grost, +sat reading, word by word, with zealous care the despatch from +Paris which had just been delivered into his hands. From the +splendid suite of reception rooms which occupied the whole of the +left-hand side of the hall came the faint sound of music. The +street outside was filled with automobiles and carriages setting +down their guests. Madame was receiving to-night a gathering of +very distinguished men and women, and it was only for a few +moments, and on very urgent business indeed, that her husband had +dared to leave her side. + +The room in which he sat was in darkness except for the single +heavily shaded electric lamp which stood by his elbow. Nevertheless, +there was sufficient illumination to show that Peter had achieved +one, at least, of his ambitions. He was wearing court dress, with +immaculate black silk stockings and diamond buckles upon his shoes. +A red ribbon was in his buttonhole and a French order hung from his +neck. His passion for clothes was certainly amply ministered to by +the exigencies of his new position. Once more he read those last +few words of this unexpectedly received despatch, read them with a +frown upon his forehead and the light of trouble in his eyes. For +three months he had done nothing but live the life of an ordinary +man of fashion and wealth. His first task, for which, to tell the +truth, he had been anxiously waiting, was here before him, and he +found it little to his liking. Again, he read slowly to himself +the last paragraph of Sogrange's. + +As ever, dear friend, one of the greatest sayings which the men +of my race have ever perpetrated once more justifies itself - +"Cherchez la femme!" Of Monsieur we have no manner of doubt. We +have tested him in every way. And to all appearance Madame should +also be above suspicion. Yet those things of which I have spoken +have happened. For two hours this morning I was closeted with +Picon here. Very reluctantly he has placed the matter in my hands. +I pass it on to you. It is your first undertaking, cher Baron, +and I wish you bon fortune. A man of gallantry, as I know you are, +you may regret that it should be a woman, and a beautiful woman, +too, against whom the finger must be pointed. Yet, after all, the +fates are strong and the task is yours. + SOGRANGE. + +The music from the reception rooms grew louder and more insistent. +Peter rose to his feet, and moving to the fireplace, struck a match +and carefully destroyed the letter which he had been reading. Then +he straightened himself, glanced for a moment at the mirror, and +left the room to join his guests. + + +"Monsieur le Baron jests," the lady murmured. + +The Baron de Grost shook his head. + +"Indeed, no, Madame!" he answered earnestly. "France has offered +us nothing more delightful in the whole history of our entente than +the loan of yourself and your brilliant husband. Monsieur de +Lamborne makes history among us politically, while Madame - " + +The Baron sighed, and his companion leaned a little towards him; +her dark eyes were full of sentimental regard. + +"Yes?" she murmured. "Continue. It is my wish." + +"I am the good friend of Monsieur de Lamborne," the Baron said, +and in his tone there seemed to lurk some far-away touch of regret, +"yet Madame knows that her conquests here have been many." + +The Ambassador's wife fanned herself and remained silent for a +moment, a faint smile playing at the corners of her full, curving +lips. She was, indeed, a very beautiful woman - elegant, a +Parisienne to the finger-tips, with pale cheeks, but eyes dark and +soft, eyes trained to her service, whose flash was an inspiration, +whose very droop had set beating the hearts of men less susceptible +than the Baron de Grost. Her gown was magnificent, of amber satin, +a color daring, but splendid; the outline of her figure, as she +leaned slightly back in her seat, might indeed have been traced by +the inspired finger of some great sculptor. De Grost, whose +reputation as a man of gallantry was well established, felt the +whole charm of her presence - felt, too, the subtle indications of +preference which she seemed inclined to accord to him. There was +nothing which eyes could say which hers were not saying during those +few minutes. The Baron, indeed, glanced around a little nervously. +His wife had still her moments of unreasonableness; it was just as +well that she was engaged with some of her guests at the farther +end of the apartments. + +"You are trying to turn my head," his beautiful companion whispered. +"You flatter me." + +"It is not possible," he answered. + +Again the fan fluttered for a moment before her face. She sighed. + +"Ah. Monsieur!" she continued, dropping her voice until it scarcely +rose above a whisper, "there are not many men like you. You speak +of my husband and his political gifts. Yet what, after all, do they +amount to? What is his position, indeed, if one glanced behind the +scenes, compared with yours?" + +The face of the Baron de Grost became like a mask. It was as though +suddenly he had felt the thrill of danger close at hand, danger +even in that scented atmosphere wherein he sat. + +"Alas, Madame!" he answered, "it is you, now, who are pleased to +jest. Your husband is a great and powerful ambassador. I, +unfortunately, have no career, no place in life save the place +which the possession of a few millions gives to a successful +financier." + +She laughed very softly, and again her eyes spoke to him. "Monsieur," +she murmured, "you and I together could make a great alliance, is it +not so?" + +"Madame," he faltered, doubtfully, "if one dared hope -" + +Once more the fire of her eyes, this time not only voluptuous. Was +the man stupid, she wondered, or only cautious? + +"If that alliance were once concluded," she said, softly, "one might +hope for everything." + +"If it rests only with me," he began, seriously, "oh, Madame!" + +He seemed overcome. Madame was gracious, but was he really stupid +or only very much in earnest? + +"To be one of the world's money kings," she whispered, "it is +wonderful - that. It is power - supreme, absolute power. There +is nothing beyond, there is nothing greater." + +Then the Baron, who was watching her closely, caught another gleam +in her eyes, and he began to understand. He had seen it before +among a certain type of her countrywomen - the greed of money. He +looked at her jewels and he remembered that, for an ambassador, her +husband was reputed to be a poor man. The cloud of misgiving +passed away from him; he settled down to the game. + +"If money could only buy the desire of one's heart," he murmured. +"Alas!" + +His eyes seemed to seek out Monsieur de Lamborne among the moving +throngs. She laughed softly, and her hand brushed his. + +"Money and one other thing, Monsieur le Baron," she whispered in +his ear, "can buy the jewels from a crown - can buy, even, the +heart of a woman - " + +A movement of approaching guests caught them up, and parted them +for a time. The Baroness de Grost was at home from ten till one, +and her rooms were crowded. The Baron found himself drawn on one +side, a few minutes later, by Monsieur de Lamborne himself. + +"I have been looking for you, De Grost," the latter declared. +"Where can we talk for a moment?" + +His host took the ambassador by the arm and led him into a retired +corner. Monsieur de Lamborne was a tall, slight man, somewhat +cadaverous looking, with large features, hollow eyes, thin but +carefully arranged gray hair, and a pointed gray beard. He wore a +frilled shirt, and an eye-glass suspended by a broad black ribbon +hung down upon his chest. His face, as a rule, was imperturbable +enough, but he had the air, just now, of a man greatly disturbed. + +"We cannot be overheard here," De Grost remarked. "It must be an +affair of a few words only, though." + +Monsieur de Lamborne wasted no time in preliminaries. "This +afternoon," he said, "I received from my Government papers of +immense importance, which I am to hand over to your Foreign Minister +at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning." + +The Baron nodded. + +"Well?" + +De Lamborne's thin fingers trembled as they played nervously with +the ribbon of his eye-glass. + +"Listen," he continued, dropping his voice a little. "Bernadine has +undertaken to send a copy of their contents to Berlin by to-morrow +night's mail." + +"How do you know that?" + +The ambassador hesitated. + +"We, too, have spies at work," he remarked, grimly. "Bernadine +wrote and sent a messenger with the letter to Berlin. The man's +body is drifting down the Channel, but the letter is in my pocket." + +"The letter from Bernadine?" + +"Yes." + +"What does he say?" + +"Simply that a verbatim copy of the document in question will be +despatched to Berlin to-morrow evening, without fail." + +"There are no secrets between us," De Grost declared, smoothly. +"What is the special importance of this document?" + +De Lamborne shrugged his shoulders. + +"Since you ask," he said, "I will tell you. You know of the slight +coolness which there has been between our respective Governments. +Our people have felt that the policy of your ministers in expending +all their energies and resources in the building of a great fleet +to the utter neglect of your army is a wholly one-sided arrangement, +so far as we are concerned. In the event of a simultaneous attack +by Germany upon France and England, you would be utterly powerless +to render us any measure of assistance. If Germany should attack +England alone, it is the wish of your Government that we should be +pledged to occupy Alsace-Lorraine. You, on the other hand, could +do nothing for us, if Germany's first move were made against France." + +The Baron was deeply interested, although the matter was no new one +to him. + +"Go on," he directed. "I am waiting for you to tell me the specific +contents of this document." + +"The English Government has asked us two questions: first, how many +complete army corps we consider she ought to place at our disposal +in this eventuality; and, secondly, at what point should we expect +them to be concentrated. The despatch which I received to-night +contains the reply to these questions." + +"Which Bernadine has promised to forward to Berlin to-morrow night," +the Baron remarked, softly. + +De Lamborne nodded. + +"You perceive," he said, "the immense importance of the affair. The +very existence of that document is almost a casus belli." + +"At what time did the despatch arrive," the Baron asked, "and what +has been its history since?" + +"It arrived at six o'clock, and went straight into the inner pocket +of my coat; it has not been out of my possession for a single second. +Even while I talk to you I can feel it." + +"And your plans? How are you intending to dispose of it to-night?" + +"On my return to the Embassy I shall place it in the safe, lock it +up, and remain watching it until morning." + +"There doesn't seem to be much chance for Bernadine," the Baron +remarked, thoughtfully. + +"But there must be no chance - no chance at all," Monsieur de +Lamborne asserted, with a note of passion in his thin voice. "It +is incredible, preposterous, that he should even make the attempt. +I want you to come home with me and share my vigil. You shall be +my witness in case anything happens. We will watch together." + +De Grost reflected for a moment. + +"Bernadine makes few mistakes," he said, thoughtfully. Monsieur de +Lamborne passed his hand across his forehead. + +"Do I not know it?" he muttered. "In this instance, though, it +seems impossible for him to succeed. The time is so short and the +conditions so difficult. I may count upon your assistance, Baron?" + +The Baron drew from his pocket a crumpled piece of paper. + +"I received a telegram from headquarters this after noon," he said, +"with instructions to place myself entirely at your disposal." + +"You will return with me, then, to the Embassy?" Monsieur de +Lamborne asked, eagerly. + +The Baron de Grost did not at once reply. He was standing in one +of his characteristic attitudes, his hands clasped behind him, his +head a little thrust forward, watching with every appearance of +courteous interest the roomful of guests, stationary just now, +listening to the performance of a famous violinist. It was, perhaps, +by accident that his eyes met those of Madame de Lamborne, but she +smiled at him subtly, more, perhaps, with her wonderful eyes than +her lips themselves. She was the centre of a very brilliant group, +a most beautiful woman holding court, as was only right and proper, +among her admirers. The Baron sighed. + +"No," he said, "I shall not return with you, De Lamborne. I want +you to follow my suggestions, if you will." + +"But, assuredly!" + +"Leave here early and go to your club. Remain there until one, then +come to the Embassy. I shall be there awaiting your arrival." + +"You mean that you will go there alone? I do not understand," the +ambassador protested. "Why should I go to my club? I do not at +all understand." + +"Nevertheless, do as I say," De Grost insisted. "For the present, +excuse me. I must look after my guests." + +The music had ceased, there was a movement toward the supper-room. +The Baron offered his arm to Madame de Lamborne, who welcomed him +with a brilliant smile. Her husband, although, for a Frenchman, +he was by no means of a jealous disposition, was conscious of a +vague feeling of uneasiness as he watched them pass out of the room +together. A few minutes later he made his excuses to his wife and +with a reluctance for which he could scarcely account left the +house. There was something in the air, he felt, which he did not +understand. He would not have admitted it to himself, but he more +than half divined the truth. The vacant seat in his wife's carriage +was filled that night by the Baron de Grost. + +At one o'clock precisely Monsieur de Lamborne returned to his house +and heard with well-simulated interest that Monsieur le Baron de +Grost awaited his arrival in the library. He found De Grost gazing +with obvious respect at the ponderous safe let into the wall. + +"A very fine affair - this," he remarked, motioning with his head +toward it. + +"The best of its kind," Monsieur de Lamborne admitted. "No burglar +yet has ever succeeded in opening one of its type. Here is the +packet," he added, drawing the document from his pocket. "You shall +see me place it in safety myself." + +The Baron stretched out his hand and examined the sealed envelope for +a moment closely. Then he moved to the writing-table, and, placing +it upon the letter scales, made a note of its exact weight. Finally, +he watched it deposited in the ponderous safe, suggested the word to +which the lock was set, and closed the door. Monsieur de Lamborne +heaved a sigh of relief. + +"I fancy this time," he said, "that our friends at Berlin will be +disappointed. Couch or easy-chair, Baron?" + +"The couch, if you please," De Grost replied, "a strong cigar, and a +long whiskey and soda. So! Now, for our vigil." + +The hours crawled away. Once De Grost sat up and listened. + +"Any rats about?" he inquired. + +The ambassador was indignant. + +"I have never heard one in my life," he answered. "This is quite a +modern house." + +De Grost dropped his match-box and stooped to pick it up. + +"Any lights on anywhere, except in this room?" he asked. + +"Certainly not," Monsieur de Lamborne answered. "It is past three +o'clock, and every one has gone to bed." + +The Baron rose and softly unbolted the door. The passage outside +was in darkness. He listened intently, for a moment, and returned, +yawning. + +"One fancies things," he murmured, apologetically. + +"For example?" De Lamborne demanded. + +The Baron shook his head. + +"One mistakes," he declared. "The nerves become over sensitive." + +The dawn broke and the awakening hum of the city grew louder and +louder. De Grost rose and stretched himself. + +"Your servants are moving about in the house," he remarked. "I +think that we might consider our vigil at an end." + +Monsieur de Lamborne rose with alacrity. + +"My friend," he said, "I feel that I have made false pretenses to +you. With the day I have no fear. A thousand pardons for your +sleepless night." + +"My sleepless night counts for nothing," the Baron assured him, "but, +before I go, would it not be as well that we glance together inside +the safe?" + +De Lamborne shook out his keys. + +"I was about to suggest it," he replied. + +The ambassador arranged the combination and pressed the lever. +Slowly the great door swung back. The two men peered in. + +"Untouched!" De Lamborne exclaimed, a little note of triumph in his +tone. + +De Grost said nothing, but held out his hand. + +"Permit me," he interposed. + +De Lamborne was conscious of a faint sense of uneasiness. His +companion walked across the room and carefully weighed the packet. + +"Well?" De Lamborne cried. "Why do you do that? What is wrong?" + +The Baron turned and faced him. + +"My friend," he said, "this is not the same packet." The ambassador +stared at him incredulously. + +"You are jesting!" he exclaimed. "Miracles do not happen. The +thing is impossible." + +"It is the impossible, then, which has happened," De Grost replied, +swiftly. "This packet can scarcely have gained two ounces in the +night. Besides, the seal is fuller. I have an eye for these details." + +De Lamborne leaned against the back of the table. His eyes were a +little wild, but he laughed hoarsely. + +"We fight, then, against the creatures of another world," he declared. +"No human being could have opened that safe last night." + +The Baron hesitated. + +"Monsieur de Lamborne," he said, "the room adjoining is your wife's." + +"It is the salon of Madame," the ambassador admitted. + +"What are the electrical appliances doing there?" the Baron demanded. +"Don't look at me like that, De Lamborne. Remember that I was here +before you arrived." + +"My wife takes an electric massage every day," Monsieur de Lamborne +answered, in a hard, unnatural voice. "In what way is Monsieur le +Baron concerned in my wife's doings?" + +"I think that there need be no answer to that question," De Grost +said, quietly. "It is a greater tragedy which we have to face." + +Quick as lightning, the Frenchman's hand shot out. De Grost barely +avoided the blow. + +"You shall answer to me for this, sir," De Lamborne cried. "It is +the honor of my wife which you assail." + +"I maintain only," the Baron answered, "that your safe was entered +from that room. A search will prove it." + +"There will be no search there," De Lamborne declared, fiercely. +"I am the Ambassador of France, and my power under this roof is +absolute. I say that you shall not cross that threshold." + +De Grost's expression did not change. Only his hands were suddenly +outstretched with a curious gesture - the four fingers were raised, +the thumbs depressed. Monsieur De Lamborne collapsed. + +"I submit," he muttered. "It is you who are the master. Search +where you will." + + +"Monsieur has arrived?" the woman demanded, breathlessly. + +The proprietor of the restaurant himself bowed a reply. His client +was evidently well-known to him. He answered her in French - French, +with a very guttural accent. + +"Monsieur has ascended some few minutes ago. Myself, I have not +had the pleasure of wishing him bon aperitif, but Fritz announced +his coming." + +The woman drew a little sigh of relief. A vague misgiving had +troubled her during the last few hours. She raised her veil as she +mounted the narrow staircase which led to the one private room at +the Hotel de Lorraine. She entered, without tapping, the room at +the head of the stairs, pushing open the ill-varnished door with +its white-curtained top. At first she thought that the little +apartment was empty. + +"Are you there?" she exclaimed, advancing a few steps. + +The figure of a man glided from behind the worn screen close by her +side, and stood between her and the door. + +"Madame!" De Grost said, bowing low. + +Even then she scarcely realized that she was trapped. "You?" she +cried. "You, Baron? But I do not understand. You have followed +me here?" + +"On the contrary, Madame," he answered. "I have preceded you." + +Her colossal vanity triumphed over her natural astuteness. The man +had employed spies to watch her! He had lost his head. It was an +awkward matter, this, but it was to be arranged. She held out her +hands. + +"Monsieur," she said, "let me beg you now to go away. If you care +to, come and see me this evening. I will explain everything. It +is a little family affair which brings me here." + +"A family affair, Madame, with Bernadine, the enemy of France," De +Grost declared, gravely. + +She collapsed miserably, her fingers grasping at the air, the cry +which broke from her lips harsh and unnatural. Before he could tell +what was happening, she was on her knees before him. + +"Spare me," she begged, trying to seize his hands. + +"Madame," De Grost answered, "I am not your judge. You will kindly +hand over to me the document which you are carrying." + +She took it from the bosom of her dress. De Grost glanced at it, +and placed it in his breast-pocket. + +"And now?" she faltered. + +De Grost sighed - she was a very beautiful woman. + +"Madame," he said, "the career of a spy is, as you have doubtless +sometimes realized, a dangerous one." + +"It is finished," she assured him, breathlessly. "Monsieur le Baron, +you will keep my secret? Never again, I swear it, will I sin like +this. You, yourself, shall be the trustee of my honor." + +Her eyes and arms besought him, but it was surely a changed man - +this. There was none of the suaveness, the delicate responsiveness +of her late host at Porchester House. The man who faced her now +possessed the features of a sphinx. There was not even pity in his +face. + +"You will not tell my husband?" she gasped. + +"Your husband already knows, Madame," was the quiet reply. "Only +a few hours ago I proved to him whence had come the leakage of so +many of our secrets lately." + +She swayed upon her feet. + +"He will never forgive me," she cried. + +"There are others," De Grost declared, "who forgive more rarely, +even, than husbands." + +A sudden illuminating flash of horror told her the truth. She +closed her eyes and tried to run from the room. + +"I will not be told," she screamed. "I will not hear. I do not +know who you are. I will live a little longer." + +"Madame," De Grost said, "the Double-Four wages no war with women, +save with spies only. The spy has no sex. For the sake of your +family, permit me to send you back to your husband's house." + +That night, two receptions and a dinner party were postponed. All +London was sympathizing with Monsieur de Lamborne, and a great many +women swore never again to take a sleeping draught. Madame de +Lamborne lay dead behind the shelter of those drawn blinds, and by +her side an empty phial. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE MAN PROM THE OLD TESTAMENT + + +Bernadine, sometimes called the Count von Hern, was lunching at the +Savoy with the pretty wife of a Cabinet Minister, who was just +sufficiently conscious of the impropriety of her action to render +the situation interesting. + +"I wish you would tell me, Count von Hern," she said, soon after +they had settled down in their places, "why my husband seems to +object to you so much. I simply dared not tell him that we were +going to lunch together, and as a rule he doesn't mind what I do +in that way." + +Bernadine smiled slowly. + +"Ah, well," he remarked, "your husband is a politician and a very +cautious man. I dare say he is like some of those others, who +believe that, because I am a foreigner and live in London, therefore +I am a spy." + +"You a spy," she laughed. "What nonsense!" + +"Why nonsense?" + +She shrugged her shoulders. She was certainly a very pretty woman, +and her black gown set off to fullest advantage her deep red hair +and fair complexion. + +"I suppose because I can't imagine you anything of the sort," she +declared. "You see, you hunt and play polo, and do everything which +the ordinary Englishmen do. Then one meets you everywhere. I +think, Count von Hern, that you are much too spoilt, for one thing, +to take life seriously." + +"You do me an injustice," he murmured. + +"Of course," she chattered on, "I don't really know what spies do. +One reads about them in these silly stories, but I have never felt +sure that as live people they exist at all. Tell me, Count, what +could a foreign spy do in England?" + +Bernadine twirled his fair moustache and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Indeed, my dear lady," he admitted, "I scarcely know what a spy +could do nowadays. A few years ago, you English people were all +so trusting. Your fortifications, your battleships, not to speak +of your country itself, were wholly at the disposal of the +enterprising foreigner who desired to acquire information. The +party who governed Great Britain then seemed to have some strange +idea that these things made for peace. To-day, however, all that +is changed." + +"You seem to know something about it," she remarked. + +"I am afraid that mine is really only the superficial point of view," +he answered, "but I do know that there is a good deal of information, +which seems absolutely insignificant in itself, for which some +foreign countries are willing to pay. For instance, there was a +Cabinet Council yesterday, I believe, and some one was going to +suggest that a secret, but official, visit be paid to your new +harbor works up at Rosyth. An announcement will probably be made +in the papers during the next few days as to whether the visit is +to be undertaken or not. Yet there are countries who are willing +to pay for knowing even such an insignificant item of news as that, +a few hours before the rest of the world." + +Lady Maxwell laughed. + +"Well, I could earn that little sum of money," she declared gayly, +"for my husband has just made me cancel a dinner-party for next +Thursday, because he has to go up to the stupid place." + +Bernadine smiled. It was really a very unimportant matter, but he +loved to feel, even in his idle moments, that he was not altogether +wasting his time. + +"I am sorry," he said, "that I am not myself acquainted with one +of these mythical personages that I might return you the value of +your marvelous information. If I dared think, however, that it +would be in any way acceptable, I could offer you the diversion of +a restaurant dinner-party for that night. The Duchess of +Castleford has kindly offered to act as hostess for me and we are +all going on to the Gaiety afterwards." + +"Delightful!" Lady Maxwell exclaimed. "I should love to come." + +Bernadine bowed. + +"You have, then, dear lady, fulfilled your destiny," he said. "You +have given secret information to a foreign person of mysterious +identity, and accepted payment." + +Now, Bernadine was a man of easy manners and unruffled composure. +To the natural insouciance of his aristocratic bringing up, he had +added the steely reserve of a man moving in the large world, engaged +more often than not in some hazardous enterprise. Yet, for once in +his life, and in the midst of the idlest of conversations, he gave +himself away so utterly that even this woman with whom he was +lunching - a very butterfly lady, indeed could not fail to perceive +it. She looked at him in something like astonishment. Without the +slightest warning his face had become set in a rigid stare, his eyes +were filled with the expression of a man who sees into another world. +The healthy color faded from his cheeks, he was white even to the +parted lips, the wine dripped from his raised glass onto the +tablecloth. + +"Why, whatever is the matter with you?" she demanded. "Is it a ghost +that you see?" + +Bernadine's effort was superb, but he was too clever to deny the +shock. + +"A ghost, indeed," he answered, "the ghost of a man whom every +newspaper in Europe has declared to be dead." + +Her eyes followed his. The two people who were being ushered to a +seat in their immediate vicinity were certainly of somewhat unusual +appearance. The man was tall, and thin as a lath, and he wore the +clothes of the fashionable world without awkwardness, yet with the +air of one who was wholly unaccustomed to them. His cheek-bones +were remarkably high, and receded so quickly towards his pointed +chin that his cheeks were little more than hollows. His eyes were +dry and burning, flashing here and there as though the man himself +were continually oppressed by some furtive fear. His thick black +hair was short cropped, his forehead high and intellectual. He +was a strange figure, indeed, in such a gathering, and his companion +only served to accentuate the anachronisms of his appearance. She +was, above all things, a woman of the moment - fair, almost florid, +a little thick-set, with tightly-laced, yet passable figure. Her +eyes were blue, her hair light-colored. She wore magnificent furs, +and, as she threw aside her boa, she disclosed a mass of jewelry +around her neck and upon her bosom, almost barbaric in its profusion +and setting. + +"What an extraordinary couple!" Lady Maxwell whispered. + +Bernadine smiled. + +"The man looks as though he had stepped out of the Old Testament," +he murmured. + +Lady Maxwell's interest was purely feminine, and was riveted now +upon the jewelry worn by the woman. Bernadine, under the mask of +his habitual indifference, which had easily reassumed, seemed to be +looking away out of the restaurant into the great square of a +half-savage city, looking at that marvelous crowd, numbered by +their thousands, even by their hundreds of thousands, of men and +women whose arms flashed out toward the snow-hung heavens, whose +lips were parted in one chorus of rapturous acclamation; looking +beyond them to the tall, emaciated form of the bare-headed priest +in his long robes, his wind-tossed hair and wild eyes, standing +alone before that multitude, in danger of death, or worse, at any +moment - their idol, their hero. And again, as the memories came +flooding into his brain, the scene passed away, and he saw the bare +room with its whitewashed walls and blocked-up windows; he felt the +darkness, lit only by those flickering candles. He saw the white, +passion-wrung faces of the men who clustered together around the +rude table, waiting; he heard their murmurs, he saw the fear born +in their eyes. It was the night when their leader did not come. + +Bernadine poured himself out a glass of wine and drank it slowly. +The mists were clearing away now. He was in London, at the Savoy +Restaurant, and within a few yards of him sat the man with whose +name all Europe once had rung - the man hailed by some as martyr, +and loathed by others as the most fiendish Judas who ever drew +breath. Bernadine was not concerned with the moral side of this +strange encounter. How best to use his knowledge of this man's +identity was the question which beat upon his brain. What use could +be made of him, what profit for his country and himself? And then +a fear - a sudden, startling fear. Little profit, perhaps, to be +made, but the danger - the danger of this man alive with such secrets +locked in his bosom! The thought itself was terrifying, and even as +he realized it a significant thing happened - he caught the eye of +the Baron de Grost, lunching alone at a small table just inside the +restaurant. + +"You are not at all amusing," his guest declared. "It is nearly +five minutes since you have spoken." + +"You, too, have been absorbed," he reminded her. + +"It is that woman's jewels," she admitted. "I never saw anything +more wonderful. The people are not English, of course. I wonder +where they come from." + +"One of the Eastern countries, without a doubt," he replied, +carelessly. + +Lady Maxwell sighed. + +"He is a peculiar-looking man," she said, "but one could put up with +a good deal for jewels like that. What are you doing this afternoon + - picture-galleries or your club?" + +"Neither, unfortunately," Bernadine answered. "I have promised to +go with a friend to look at some polo ponies." + +"Do you know," she remarked, "that we have never been to see those +Japanese prints yet?" + +"The gallery is closed until Monday," he assured her, falsely. "If +you will honor me then, I shall be delighted." + +She shrugged her shoulders but said nothing. She had an idea that +she was being dismissed, but Bernadine, without the least appearance +of hurry, gave her no opportunity for any further suggestions. He +handed her into the automobile, and returned at once into the +restaurant. He touched Baron de Grost upon the shoulder. + +"My friend, the enemy!" he exclaimed, smiling. + +"At your service in either capacity," the Baron replied. Bernadine +made a grimace and accepted the chair which De Grost had indicated. + +"If I may, I will take my coffee with you," he said. "I am growing +old. It does not amuse me so much to lunch with a pretty woman. +One has to entertain, and one forgets the serious business of +lunching. I will take my coffee and cigarettes in peace." + +De Grost gave an order to the waiter and leaned back in his chair. + +"Now," he suggested, "tell me exactly what it is that has brought +you back into the restaurant?" + +Bernadine shrugged his shoulders. + +"Why not the pleasure of this few minutes' conversation with you?" +he asked. + +The Baron carefully selected a cigar, and lit it. + +"That," he said, "goes well, but there are other things." + +"As, for instance?" + +De Grost leaned back in his chair, and watched the smoke of his +cigar curl upwards. + +"One talks too much," he remarked. "Before the cards are upon the +table, it is not wise." + +They chatted upon various matters. De Grost himself seemed in no +hurry to depart, nor did his companion show any signs of impatience. +It was not until the two people whose entrance had had such a +remarkable effect upon Bernadine, rose to leave, that the mask was, +for a moment, lifted. De Grost had called for his bill and paid it. +The two men strolled out together. + +"Baron," Bernadine said, suavely, linking his arm through the other +man's as they passed into the foyer, "there are times when candor +even among enemies becomes an admirable quality." + +"Those times, I imagine," De Grost answered, grimly, "are rare. +Besides, who is to tell the real thing from the false?" + +"You do less than justice to your perceptions, my friend," Bernadine +declared, smiling. + +De Grost merely shrugged his shoulders. Bernadine persisted. + +"Come," he continued, "since you doubt me, let me be the first to +give you a proof that on this occasion, at any rate, I am candor +itself. You had a purpose in lunching at the Savoy to-day. That +purpose I have discovered by accident. We are both interested in +those people." The Baron de Grost shook his head slowly. + +"Really," he began - + +"Let me finish," Bernadine insisted. "Perhaps when you have heard +all that I have to say, you may change your attitude. We are +interested in the same people, but in different ways. If we both +move from opposite directions, our friend will vanish - he is clever +enough at disappearing, as he has proved before. We do not want the +same thing from him, I am convinced of that. Let us move together +and made sure that he does not evade us." + +"Is it an alliance which you are proposing?" De Grost asked, with +a quiet smile. + +"Why not? Enemies have united before to-day against a common foe." + +De Grost looked across the palm court to where the two people who +formed the subject of their discussion were sitting in a corner, +both smoking, both sipping some red-colored liqueur. + +"My dear Bernadine," he said, "I am much too afraid of you to listen +any more. You fancy because this man's presence here was an entire +surprise to you, and because you find me already on his track, that +I know more than you do and that an alliance with me would be to your +advantage. You would try to persuade me that your object with him +would not be my object. Listen. I am afraid of you - you are too +clever for me. I am going to leave you in sole possession." + +De Grost's tone was final and his bow valedictory. Bernadine watched +him stroll in a leisurely way through the foyer, exchanging greetings +here and there with friends, watched him enter the cloakroom, from +which he emerged with his hat and overcoat, watched him step into his +automobile and leave the restaurant. He turned back with a clouded +face, and threw himself into an easy chair. + +Ten minutes passed uneventfully. People were passing backwards and +forwards all the time, but Bernadine, through his half-closed eyes, +did little save watch the couple in whom he was so deeply interested. +At last the man rose, and, with a word of farewell to his companion, +came out from the lounge, and made his way up the foyer, turning +toward the hotel. He walked with quick, nervous strides, glancing +now and then restlessly about him. In his eyes, to those who +understood, there was the furtive gleam of the hunted man. It was +the passing of one who was afraid. + +The woman, left to herself, began to look around her with some +curiosity. Bernadine, to whom a new idea had occurred, moved his +chair nearer to hers, and was rewarded by a glance which certainly +betrayed some interest. A swift and unerring judge in such matters, +he came to the instant conclusion that she was not unapproachable. +He acted immediately and upon impulse. Rising to his feet, he +approached her, and bowed easily but respectfully. + +"Madame," he said, "it is impossible that I am mistaken. I have had +the pleasure, have I not, of meeting you in St. Petersburg?" + +Her first reception of his coming was reassuring enough. At his +mention of St. Petersburg, however, she frowned. + +"I do not think so," she answered, in French. "You are mistaken. +I do not know St. Petersburg." + +"Then it was in Paris," Bernadine continued, with conviction. +"Madame is Parisian, without a doubt." + +She shook her head, smiling. + +"I do not think that I remember meeting you, Monsieur," she replied, +doubtfully, "but perhaps - " + +She looked up, and her eyes dropped before his. He was certainly a +very personable looking man, and she had spoken to no one for so +many months. + +"Believe me, Madame, I could not possibly be mistaken," Bernadine +assured her, smoothly. "You are staying here for long?" + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Heaven knows!" she declared. "My husband he has, I think, what +you call the wander fever. For myself, I am tired of it. In Rome +we settle down, we stay five days, all seems pleasant, and suddenly +my husband's whim carries us away without an hour's notice. The same +thing at Monte Carlo, the same in Paris. Who can tell what will +happen here? To tell you the truth, Monsieur," she added, a little +archly, "I think that if he were to come back at this moment, we +should probably leave England to-night." + +"Your husband is very jealous?" Bernadine whispered, softly. + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Partly jealous, and partly, he has the most terrible distaste for +acquaintances. He will not speak to strangers himself, or suffer me +to do so. It is sometimes - oh! it is sometimes very triste." + +"Madame has my sympathy," Bernadine assured her. "It is an +impossible life - this. No husband should be so exacting." + +She looked at him with her round, blue eyes, a touch of added color +in her cheeks. + +"If one could but cure him!" she murmured. + +"I would ask your permission to sit down," Bernadine remarked, "but +I fear to intrude. You are afraid, perhaps, that your husband may +return." + +She shook her head. + +"It will be better that you do not stay," she declared. "For a +moment or two he is engaged. He has an appointment in his room with +a gentleman, but one never knows how long he may be." + +"You have friends in London, then," Bernadine remarked, thoughtfully. + +"Of my husband's affairs," the woman said, "there is no one so +ignorant as I. Yet since we left our own country, this is the first +time I have known him willingly speak to a soul." + +"Your own country," Bernadine repeated, softly. "That was Russia, +of course. Your husband's nationality is very apparent." + +The woman looked a little annoyed with herself. She remained silent. + +"May I not hope," Bernadine begged, "that you will give me the +pleasure of meeting you again?" + +She hesitated for a moment. + +"He does not leave me," she replied. "I am not alone for five +minutes during the day." + +Bernadine scribbled the name by which he was known in that locality, +on a card, and passed it to her. + +"I have rooms in St. James's Street, quite close to here," he said. +"If you could come and have tea with me to-day or to-morrow, it +would give me the utmost pleasure." + +She took the card, and crumpled it in her hand. All the time, +though, she shook her head. + +"Monsieur is very kind," she answered. "I am afraid - I do not +think that it would be possible. And now, if you please, you must +go away. I am terrified lest my husband should return." + +Bernadine bent low in a parting salute. + +"Madame," he pleaded, "you will come?" + +Bernadine was a handsome man, and he knew well enough how to use +his soft and extraordinarily musical voice. He knew very well, as +he retired, that somehow or other she would accept his invitation. +Even then, he felt dissatisfied and ill at ease, as he left the +place. He had made a little progress, but, after all, was it worth +while? Supposing that the man with whom her husband was even at +this moment closeted, was the Baron de Grost! He called a taxicab +and drove at once to the Embassy of his country. + +Even at that moment, De Grost and the Russian - Paul Hagon he called +himself - were standing face to face in the latter's sitting-room. +No conventional greetings of any sort had been exchanged. De Grost +had scarcely closed the door behind him before Hagon addressed him +breathlessly, almost fiercely. + +"Who are you, sir," he demanded, "and what do you want with me?" + +"You had my letter?" De Grost inquired. + +"I had your letter," the other admitted. "It told me nothing. You +speak of business. What business have I with any here?" + +"My business is soon told," De Grost replied, "but in the first +place, I beg that you will not unnecessarily alarm yourself. There +is, believe me, no need for it, no need whatever, although, to +prevent misunderstandings, I may as well tell you at once that I am +perfectly well aware who it is that I am addressing." + +Hagon collapsed into a chair. He buried his face in his hands and +groaned. + +"I am not here necessarily as an enemy," De Grost continued. "You +have very excellent reasons, I make no doubt, for remaining unknown +in this city, or wherever you may be. As yet, let me assure you +that your identity is not even suspected, except by myself and one +other. Those few who believe you alive, believe that you are in +America. There is no need for any one to know that Father -" + +"Stop!" the man begged, piteously. "Stop!" + +De Grost bowed. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. + +"Now tell me," the man demanded, "what is your price? I have had +money. There is not much left. Sophia is extravagant and traveling +costs a great deal. But why do I weary you with these things?" he +added. "Let me know what I have to pay for your silence." + +"I am not a blackmailer," De Grost answered, sternly. "I am myself +a wealthy man. I ask from you nothing in money - I ask you nothing +in that way at all. A few words of information, and a certain paper, +which I believe you have in your possession, is all that I require." + +"Information," Hagon repeated, shivering. + +"What I ask," De Grost declared, "is really a matter of justice. +At the time when you were the idol of all Russia and the leader of +the great revolutionary party, you received funds from abroad." + +"I accounted for them," Hagon muttered. "Up to a certain point I +accounted for everything." + +"You received funds from the Government of a European power," De +Grost continued, "funds to be applied towards developing the +revolution. I want the name of that Power, and proof of what I say." + +Hagon remained motionless for a moment. He had seated himself at +the table, his head resting upon his hand and his face turned away +from De Grost. + +"You are a politician, then?" he asked, slowly. + +"I am a politician," De Grost admitted. "I represent a great secret +power which has sprung into existence during the last few years. +Our aim, at present, is to bring closer together your country and +Great Britain. Russia hesitates because an actual rapprochement +with us is equivalent to a permanent estrangement with Germany." + +Hagon nodded. + +"I understand," he said, in a low tone. "I have finished with +politics. I have nothing to say to you." + +"I trust," De Grost persisted, suavely, "that you will be better +advised." + +Hagon turned round and faced him. + +"Sir," he demanded, "do you believe that I am afraid of death?" + +De Grost looked at him steadfastly. + +"No," he answered, "you have proved the contrary." + +"If my identity is discovered," Hagon continued, "I have the means +of instant death at hand. I do not use it because of my love for +the one person who links me to this world. For her sake I live, +and for her sake I bear always the memory of the shameful past. +Publish my name and whereabouts, if you will. I promise you that +I will make the tragedy complete. But for the rest, I refuse to +pay your price. A great power trusted me, and whatever its motives +may have been, its money came very near indeed to freeing my people. +I have nothing more to say to you, sir." + +The Baron de Grost was taken aback. He had scarcely contemplated +refusal. + +"You must understand," he explained, "that this is not a personal +matter. Even if I myself would spare you, those who are more +powerful than I will strike. The society to which I belong does +not tolerate failure. I am empowered even to offer you its +protection, if you will give me the information for which I ask." + +Hagon rose to his feet, and, before De Grost could foresee his +purpose, had rung the bell. + +"My decision is unchanging," he said. "You can pull down the roof +upon my head, but I carry next my heart an instant and unfailing +means of escape." + +A waiter stood in the doorway. + +"You will take this gentleman to the lift," Hagon directed. + +There was once more a touch in his manner of that half divine +authority which had thrilled the great multitude of his believers. +De Grost was forced to admit defeat. + +"Not defeat," he said to himself, as he followed the man to the +lift, "only a check." + +Nevertheless, it was a serious check. He could not, for the moment, +see his way further. Arrived at his house, he followed his usual +custom and made his way at once to his wife's rooms. Violet was +resting upon a sofa, but laid down her book at his entrance. + +"Violet," he declared, "I have come for your advice." + +"He refuses, then?" she asked, eagerly. + +"Absolutely. What am I to do? Bernadine is already upon the scent. +He saw him at the Savoy to-day, and recognized him." + +"Has Bernadine approached him yet?" Violet inquired. + +"Not yet. He is half afraid to move. I think he realizes, or will +very soon, how serious this man's existence may be for Germany." + +Violet was thoughtful for several moments, then she looked up quickly. + +"Bernadine will try the woman," she asserted. "You say that Hagon +is infatuated?" + +"Blindly," De Grost replied. "He scarcely lets her out of his sight." + +"Your people watch Bernadine?" + +"Always." + +"Very well, then," Violet went on, "you will find that he will +attempt an intrigue with the woman. The rest should be easy for you." + +De Grost sighed as he bent over his wife. + +"My dear," he said, "there is no subtlety like the subtlety of a +woman." + +Bernadine's instinct had not deceived him, and the following +afternoon his servant, who had already received orders, silently +ushered Madame Hagon into his apartments. She was wrapped in +magnificent sables and heavily veiled. Bernadine saw at once that +she was very nervous and wholly terrified. He welcomed her in as +matter-of-fact a manner as possible. + +"Madame," he declared, "this is quite charming of you. You must +sit in my easy-chair here, and my man shall bring us some tea. I +drink mine always after the fashion of your country, with lemon, but +I doubt whether we make it so well. Won't you unfasten your jacket? +I am afraid that my rooms are rather warm." + +Madame had collected herself, but it was quite obvious that she was +unused to adventures of this sort. Her hand, when he took it, +trembled, and more than once she glanced furtively toward the door. + +"Yes, I have come," she murmured. "I do not know why. It is not +right for me to come. Yet there are times when I am weary, times +when Paul seems fierce and when I am terrified. Sometimes I even +wish that I were back - " + +"Your husband seems very highly strung," Bernadine remarked. "He +has doubtless led an exciting life." + +"As to that," she replied, gazing around her now and gradually +becoming more at her ease, "I know but little. He was a student +professor at Moschaume, when I met him. I think that he was at +one of the universities in St. Petersburg." + +Bernadine glanced at her covertly. It came to him as an inspiration +that the woman did not know the truth. + +"You are from Russia, then, after all," he said, smiling. "I felt +sure of it." + +"Yes," reluctantly. "Paul is so queer in these things. He will +not let me talk of it. He prefers that we are taken for French +people. Indeed, it is not I who desire to think too much of Russia. +It is not a year since my father was killed in the riots, and two +of my brothers were sent to Siberia." + +Bernadine was deeply interested. + +"They were among the revolutionaries?" he asked. + +She nodded. + +"Yes," she answered. + +"And your husband?" + +"He, too, was with them in sympathy. Secretly, too, I believe that +he worked among them. Only he had to be careful. You see, his +position at the college made it difficult." + +Bernadine looked into the woman's eyes and he knew then that she +was speaking the truth. This man was, indeed, a great master; he +had kept her in ignorance! + +"Always," Bernadine said, a few minutes later, as he passed her tea, +"I read with the deepest interest of the people's movement in Russia. +Tell me, what became eventually of their great leader - the wonderful +Father Paul?" + +She set down her cup untasted, and her blue eyes flashed with a fire +which turned them almost to the color of steel. + +"Wonderful indeed!" she exclaimed "Wonderful Judas! It was he who +wrecked the cause. It was he who sold the lives and liberty of +all of us for gold." + +"I heard a rumor of that," Bernadine remarked, "but I never believed +it." + +"It was true," she declared passionately. + +"And where is he now?" Bernadine asked. + +"Dead!" she answered fiercely. "Torn to pieces, we believe, one +night in a house near Moscow. May it be so!" + +She was silent for a moment, as though engaged in prayer. Bernadine +spoke no more of these things. He talked to her kindly, keeping up +always his role of respectful but hopeful admirer. + +"You will come again soon?" he begged, when, at last, she insisted +upon going. + +She hesitated. + +"It is so difficult," she murmured. "If my husband knew - " + +Bernadine laughed, and touched her fingers caressingly. + +"Need one tell him?" he whispered. "You see, I trust you. I pray +that you will come-" + +Bernadine was a man rarely moved towards emotion of any sort. Yet +even he was conscious of a certain sense of excitement, as he stood +looking out upon the Embankment from the windows of Paul Hagon's +sitting-room, a few days later. Madame was sitting on the sofa, +close at hand. It was for her answer to a certain question that +he waited. + +"Monsieur," she said at last, turning slowly towards him, "it must +be no. Indeed, I am sorry, for you have been very charming to me, +and without you I should have been dull. But to come to your rooms +and dine alone to-night, it is impossible." + +"Your husband cannot return before the morning, Bernadine reminded +her. + +"It makes no difference," she answered. "Paul is sometimes fierce +and rough, but he is generous, and all his life he has worshiped me. +He behaves strangely at times, but I know that he cares - all the +time more, perhaps, than I deserve." + +"And there is no one else," Bernadine asked softly, "who can claim +even the smallest place in your heart?" + +"Monsieur," the woman begged, "you must not ask me that. I think +that you had better go away." + +Bernadine stood quite still for several moments. It was the climax +towards which he had steadfastly guided the course of this mild +intrigue. + +"Madame," he declared, "you must not send me away. You shall not." + +She held out her hand. + +"Then you must not ask impossible things," she answered. + +Then Bernadine took the plunge. He became suddenly very grave. + +"Sophia," he said, "I am keeping a great secret from you and I can +do it no longer. When you speak to me of your husband you drive me +mad. If I believed that you really loved him, I would go away and +leave it to chance whether or not you ever discovered the truth. +As it is - " + +"Well?" she interposed breathlessly. + +"As it is," he continued, "I am going to tell you now. Your husband +has deceived you - he is deceiving you every moment." + +She looked at him incredulously. + +"You mean that there is another woman?" + +Bernadine shook his head. + +"Worse than that," he answered. "Your husband stole even your love +under false pretenses. You think that his life is a strange one, +that his nerves have broken down, that he flies from place to place +for distraction, for change of scene. It is not so. He left Rome, +he left Nice, he left Paris, for one and the same reason. He left +because he was in peril of his life. I know little of your history, +but I know as much as this. If ever a man deserved the fate from +which he flees, your husband deserves it." + +"You are mad," she faltered. + +"No, I am sane," he went on. "It is you who are mad, not to have +understood. Your husband goes ever in fear of his life. His real +name is one branded with ignominy throughout the world. The man +whom you have married, to whom you are so scrupulously faithful, +is the man who sent your father to death and your brothers to +Siberia." + +"Father Paul!" she screamed. + +"You have lived with him, you are his wife," Bernadine declared. + +The color had left her cheeks; her eyes, with their penciled brows, +were fixed in an almost ghastly stare; her breath was coming in +uneven gasps. She looked at him in silent terror. + +"It is not true," she cried at last; "it cannot be true." + +"Sophia," he said, "you can prove it for yourself. I know a +little of your husband and his doings. Does he not carry always +with him a black box which he will not allow out of his sight?" + +"Always," she assented. "How did you know? By night his hand +rests upon it. By day, if he goes out, it is in my charge." + +"Fetch it now," Bernadine directed, "and I will prove my words." + +She did not hesitate for a moment. She disappeared into the inner +room; and came back, only a few moments absent, carrying in her +hand a black leather despatch-box. + +"You have the key?" he asked. + +"Yes," she answered, looking at him and trembling, "but I dare +not - oh, I dare not open it!" + +"Sophia," he said, "if my words are not true, I will pass out of +your life for always. I challenge you. If you open that box you +will know that your husband is, indeed, the greatest scoundrel in +Europe." + +She drew a key from a gold chain around her neck. + +"There are two locks," she told him. "The other is a combination, +but I know the word. Who's that?" + +She started suddenly. There was a loud tapping at the door. +Bernadine threw an antimacassar half over the box, but he was too +late. De Grost and Hagon had crossed the threshold. The woman +stood like some dumb creature. Hagon, transfixed, stood with his +eyes riveted upon Bernadine. His face was distorted with passion, +he seemed like a man beside himself with fury. De Grost came +slowly forward into the middle of the room. + +"Count von Hern," he said, "I think that you had better leave." + +The woman found words. + +"Not yet," she cried, "not yet! Paul, listen to me. This man has +told me a terrible thing." + +The breath seemed to come through Hagon's teeth like a hiss. + +"He has told you!" + +"Listen to me," she continued. "It is the truth which you must +tell now. He says that you - you are Father Paul." + +Hagon did not hesitate for a second. + +"It is true," he admitted. + +Then there was a silence - short, but tragical. Hagon seemed +suddenly to have collapsed. He was like a man who has just had a +stroke. He stood muttering to himself. + +"It is the end - this - the end!" he said, in a low tone. "Sophia!" + +She shrank away from him. He drew himself up. Once more the great +light flashed in his face. + +"It was for your sake," he said simply, "for your sake, Sophia. I +came to you poor and you would have nothing to say to me. My love +for you burned in my veins like fever. It was for you I did it - +for your sake I sold my honor, the love of my country, the freedom +of my brothers. For your sake I risked an awful death. For your +sake I have lived like a hunted man, with the cry of the wolves +always in my ears, and the fear of death and of eternal torture with +me day by day. No other man since the world was made has done more. +Have pity on me!" + +She was unmoved; her face had lost all expression. No one noticed +in that rapt moment that Bernadine had crept from the room. + +"It was you," she cried, "who killed my father, and sent my brothers +into exile." + +"God help me!" he moaned. + +She turned to De Grost. + +"Take him away with you, please," she said. "I have finished with +him." + +"Sophia!" he pleaded. + +She leaned across the table and struck him heavily upon the cheek. + +"If you stay here," she muttered, "I shall kill you myself ... " + +That night, the body of an unknown foreigner was found in the attic +of a cheap lodging-house in Soho. The discovery itself and the +verdict at the inquest occupied only a few lines in the morning +newspapers. Those few lines were the epitaph of one who was very +nearly a Rienzi. The greater part of his papers De Grost mercifully +destroyed, but one in particular he preserved. Within a week the +much delayed treaty was signed at Paris, London and St. Petersburg. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE FIRST SHOT + + +De Grost and his wife were dining together at the corner table in a +fashionable but somewhat Bohemian restaurant. Both had been in the +humor for reminiscences, and they had outstayed most of their +neighbors. + +"I wonder what people really think of us," Violet remarked pensively. +"I told Lady Amershal, when she asked us to go there this evening, +that we always dined together alone somewhere once a week, and she +absolutely refused to believe me. 'With your own husband, my dear?' +She kept on repeating." + +"Her Ladyship's tastes are more catholic," the Baron declared dryly. +"Yet, after all, Violet, the real philosophy of married life demands +something of this sort." + +Violet smiled and fingered her pearls for a minute. + +"What the real philosophy of married life may be I do not know," she +said, "but I am perfectly content with our rendering of it. What a +fortunate thing, Peter, with your intensely practical turn of mind, +that nature endowed you with so much sentiment." + +De Grost gazed reflectively at the cigarette which he had just +selected from his case. + +"Well," he remarked, "there have been times when I have cursed +myself for a fool, but, on the whole, sentiment keeps many fires +burning." + +She leaned towards him and dropped her voice a little. "Tell me," +she begged, "do you ever think of the years we spent together in +the country? Do you ever regret?" + +He smiled thoughtfully. + +"It is a hard question, that," he admitted. "There were days there +which I loved, but there were days, too, when the restlessness came, +days when I longed to hear the hum of the city and to hear men +speak whose words were of life and death and the great passions. I +am not sure, Violet, whether, after all, it is well for one who has +lived to withdraw absolutely from the thrill of life." + +She laughed, Softly but gayly. + +"I am with you," she declared, "absolutely. I think that the +fairies must have poured into my blood the joy of living for its +own sake. I should be an ungrateful woman indeed, if I found +anything to complain of, nowadays. Yet there is one thing that +troubles me," she went on, after a moment's pause. + +"And that?" he asked. + +"The danger," she said, slowly. "I do not want to lose you, Peter. +There are times when I am afraid." + +De Grost flicked the ash from his cigarette. + +"The days are passing," he remarked, "when men point revolvers at +one another, and hire assassins to gain their ends. Now, it is more +a battle of wits. We play chess on the board of Life still, but we +play with ivory pieces instead of steel and poison. Our brains +direct and not our muscles." + +She sighed. + +"It is only the one man of whom I am afraid. You have outwitted +him so often and he does not forgive." + +De Grost smiled. It was an immense compliment - this. + +"Bernadine," he murmured, softly, "otherwise, our friend the Count +von Hern." + +"Bernadine!" she repeated. "All that you say is true, but when one +fails with modern weapons, one changes the form of attack. Bernadine +at heart is a savage." + +"The hate of such a man," De Grost remarked complacently, "is worth +having. He has had his own way over here for years. He seems to +have found the knack of living in a maze of intrigue and remaining +untouchable. There were a dozen things before I came upon the scene +which ought to have ruined him. Yet there never appeared to be +anything to take hold of. Even the Criminal Department once thought +they had a chance. I remember John Dory telling me in disgust that +Bernadine was like one of those marvelous criminals one only reads +about in fiction, who seem, when they pass along the dangerous +places, to walk upon the air, and, leave no trace behind." + +"Before you came," she said, "he had never known a failure. Do you +think that he is a man likely to forgive?" + +"I do not," De Grost answered grimly. "It is a battle, of course, +a battle all the time. Yet, Violet, between you and me, if Bernadine +were to go, half the savor of life for me would depart with him." + +Then there came a curious and wholly unexpected interruption. A man +in dark, plain clothes, still wearing his overcoat, and carrying a +bowler hat, had been standing in the entrance of the restaurant for +a moment or two, looking around the room as though in search of some +one. At last he caught the eye of the Baron de Grost and came +quickly toward him. + +"Charles," the Baron remarked, raising his eyebrows. "I wonder what +he wants." + +A sudden cloud had fallen upon their little feast. Violet watched +the coming of her husband's servant, and the reading of the note +which he presented to his master, with an anxiety which she could +not wholly conceal. The Baron read the note twice, scrutinizing a +certain part of it closely with the aid of the monocle which he +seldom used. Then he folded it up and placed it in the breast +pocket of his coat. + +"At what hour did you receive this, Charles?" he asked. + +"A messenger brought it in a taxicab about ten minutes ago, sir," +the man replied. "He said that it was of the utmost importance, +and that I had better try and find you." + +"A district messenger?" + +"A man in ordinary clothes," Charles answered. "He looked like a +porter in a warehouse, or something of that sort. I forgot to say +that you were rung up on the telephone three times previously by +Mr. Greening." + +The Baron nodded. + +"You can go," he said. "There is no reply." + +The man bowed and retired. De Grost called for his bill. + +"Is it anything serious?" Violet inquired. + +"No, not exactly serious," he answered. "I do not understand what +has happened, but they have sent for me to go - well, where it was +agreed that I should not go except as a matter of urgent necessity." + +Violet knew better than to show any signs of disquietude. + +"It is in London?" she asked. + +"Certainly," her husband replied. "I shall take a taxicab from +here. I am sorry, dear, to have one of our evenings disturbed in +this manner. I have always done my best to avoid it, but this +summons is urgent." + +She rose and he wrapped her cloak around her. + +"You will drive straight home, won't you?" he begged. "I dare say +that I may be back within an hour myself." + +"And if not?" she asked, in a low tone. + +"If not, there is nothing to be done." + +Violet bit her lip, but, as he handed her into the small electric +brougham which was waiting, she smiled into his face. + +"You will come back, and soon, Peter," she declared, confidently. +"Wherever you go I am sure of that. You see, I have faith in my +star which watches over you." + +He kissed her fingers and turned away. The commissionaire had +already called him a taxicab. + +"To London Bridge," he ordered, after a moment's hesitation, and +drove off. + +The traffic citywards had long since finished for the day, and he +reached his destination within ten minutes of leaving the restaurant. +Here he paid the man, and, entering the station, turned to the +refreshment room and ordered a liqueur brandy. While he sipped it, +he smoked a cigarette and carefully reread in a strong light the +note which he had received. The signature especially he pored over +for some time. At last, however, he replaced it in his pocket, +paid his bill, and, stepping out once more on to the platform, +entered a telephone booth. A few minutes later he left the station, +and, turning to the right, walked slowly as far as Tooley Street. +He kept on the right-hand side until he arrived at the spot where +the great arches, with their scanty lights, make a gloomy +thoroughfare into Bermondsey. In the shadow of the first of these +he paused, and looked steadfastly across the street. There were +few people passing and practically no traffic. In front of him +was a row of warehouses, all save one of which was wrapped in +complete darkness. It was the one where some lights were still +burning which De Grost stood and watched. + +The lights, such as they were, seemed to illuminate the ground +floor only. From his hidden post he could see the shoulders of a +man apparently bending over a ledger, diligently writing. At the +next window a youth, seated upon a tall stool, was engaged in +presumably the same occupation. There was nothing about the place +in the least mysterious or out of the way. Even the blinds of the +offices had been left undrawn. The man and the boy, who were alone +visible, seemed, in a sense, to be working under protest. Every +now and then the former stopped to yawn, and the latter performed +a difficult balancing feat upon his stool. De Grost, having +satisfied his curiosity, came presently from his shelter, almost +running into the arms of a policeman, who looked at him closely. +The Baron, who had an unlighted cigarette in his mouth, stopped +to ask for a light, and his appearance at once set at rest any +suspicions the policeman might have had. + +"I have a warehouse myself down in these parts," he remarked, as +he struck the match, "but I don't allow my people to work as late +as that." + +He pointed across the way, and the policeman smiled. + +"They are very often late there, sir," he said. "It's a Continental +wine business, and there's always one or two of them over time." + +"It's bad business, all the same," De Grost declared pleasantly. +"Good night, policeman!" + +"Good night, sir!" + +De Grost crossed the road diagonally, as though about to take the +short cut across London Bridge, but as soon as the policeman was +out of sight he retraced his steps to the building which they had +been discussing, and turning the battered brass handle of the door, +walked calmly in. On his right and left were counting houses +framed with glass; in front, the cavernous and ugly depths of a +gloomy warehouse. He knocked upon the window-pane on the right +and passed forward a step or two, as though to enter the office. +The boy, who had been engaged in the left-hand counting house, +came gliding from his place, passed silently behind the visitor +and turned the key of the outer door. What followed seemed to +happen as though by some mysteriously directed force. The figures +of men came stealing out from the hidden places. The clerk who +had been working so hard at his desk calmly divested himself of a +false mustache and wig, and, assuming a more familiar appearance, +strolled out into the warehouse. De Grost looked around him with +absolutely unruffled composure. He was the centre of a little +circle of men, respectably dressed, but every one of them +hard-featured, with something in their faces which suggested not +the ordinary toiler, but the fighting animal - the man who lives +by his wits and knows something of danger. On the outskirts of +the circle stood Bernadine. + +"Really," De Grost declared, "this is most unexpected. In the +matter of dramatic surprises, my friend Bernadine, you are certainly +in a class by yourself." + +Bernadine smiled. + +"You will understand, of course," he said, "that this little +entertainment is entirely for your amusement - well stage-managed, +perhaps, but my supers are not to be taken seriously. Since you +are here, Baron, might I ask you to precede me a few steps to the +tasting office? + +"By all means," De Grost answered cheerfully. "It is this way, I +believe." + +He walked with unconcerned footsteps down the warehouse, on either +side of which were great bins and a wilderness of racking, until he +came to a small, glass-enclosed office, built out from the wall. +Without hesitation he entered it, and removing his hat, selected +the more comfortable of the two chairs. Bernadine alone of the +others followed him inside, closing the door behind. De Grost, +who appeared exceedingly comfortable, stretched out his hand and +took a small black bottle from a tiny mahogany racking fixed +against the wall by his side. + +"You will excuse me, my dear Bernadine," he said, "but I see my +friend Greening has been tasting a few wines. The 'XX' upon the +label here signifies approval. With your permission." + +He half filled a glass and pushed the bottle toward Bernadine. + +"Greening's taste is unimpeachable," De Grost declared, setting down +his glass empty. "No use being a director of a city business, you +know, unless one interests oneself personally in it. Greening's +judgment is simply marvelous. I have never tasted a more beautiful +wine. If the boom in sherry does come," he continued complacently, +"we shall be in an excellent position to deal with it." + +Bernadine laughed softly. + +"Oh, my friend - Peter Ruff, or Baron de Grost, or whatever you may +choose to call yourself," he said, "I am indeed wise to have come +to the conclusion that you and I are too big to occupy the same +little spot on earth!" + +De Grost nodded approvingly. + +"I was beginning to wonder," he remarked, "whether you would not +soon arrive at that decision." + +"Having arrived at it," Bernadine continued, looking intently at +his companion, "the logical sequence naturally occurs to you." + +"Precisely, my dear Bernadine," De Grost asserted. "You say to +yourself, no doubt, 'One of us two must go!' Being yourself, you +would naturally conclude that it must be I. To tell you the truth, +I have been expecting some sort of enterprise of this description +for a considerable time." + +Bernadine shrugged his shoulders. + +"Your expectations," he said, "seem scarcely to have provided you +with a safe conduct." + +De Grost gazed reflectively into his empty glass. + +"You see," he explained, "I am such a lucky person. Your +arrangements to-night, however, are, I perceive, unusually +complete." + +"I am glad you appreciate them," Bernadine remarked dryly. + +"I would not for a moment," De Grost continued, "ask an impertinent +or an unnecessary question, but I must confess that I am rather +concerned to know the fate of my manager - the gentleman whom you +yourself with the aid, I presume, of Mr. Clarkson, so ably +represented." + +Bernadine sighed. + +"Alas!" he said, "your manager was a very obstinate person." + +"And my clerk?" + +"Incorruptible, absolutely incorruptible. I congratulate you, De +Grost. Your society is one of the most wonderful upon the face of +this earth. I know little about it, but my admiration is very +sincere. Their attention to details, and the personnel of their +staff, is almost perfect. I may tell you at once that no sum that +could be offered, tempted either of these men." + +"I am delighted to hear it," De Grost replied, "but I must plead +guilty to a little temporary anxiety as to their present +whereabouts." + +"At this moment," Bernadine remarked, "they are within a few feet +of us, but, as you are doubtless aware, access to your delightful +river is obtainable from these premises. To be frank with you, my +dear Baron, we are waiting for the tide to rise." + +"So thoughtful about these trifles," De Grost murmured. "But their +present position? They are, I trust, not uncomfortable?" + +Bernadine stood up and moved to the further end of the office. He +beckoned his companion to his side and, drawing an electric torch +from his pocket, flashed the light into a dark corner behind an +immense bin. The forms of a man and a youth, bound with ropes and +gagged, lay stretched upon the floor. De Grost sighed. + +"I am afraid," he said, "that Mr. Greening, at any rate, is most +uncomfortable." + +Bernadine turned off the light. + +"At least, Baron," he declared, "if such extreme measures should +become necessary, I can promise you one thing - you shall have a +quicker passage into Eternity than they." + +De Grost resumed his seat. + +"Has it really come to that?" he asked. "Will nothing but so crude +a proceeding as my absolute removal satisfy you?" + +"Nothing else is, I fear, practicable," Bernadine replied, "unless +you decide to listen to reason. Believe me, my dear friend, I shall +miss you and our small encounters exceedingly, but, unfortunately, +you stand in the way of my career. You are the only man who has +persistently balked me. You have driven me to use against you means +which I had grown to look upon as absolutely extinct in the upper +circles of our profession." + +De Grost peered through the glass walls of the office. + +"Eight men, not counting yourself," he remarked, "and my poor +manager and his faithful clerk lying bound and helpless. It is +heavy odds, Bernadine." + +"There is no question of odds, I think," Bernadine answered smoothly. +"You are much too clever a person to refuse to admit that you are +entirely in my power." + +"And as regards terms? I really don't feel in the least anxious to +make my final bow with so little notice," De Grost said. "To tell +you the truth, I have been finding life quite interesting lately." + +Bernadine eyed his prisoner keenly. Such absolute composure was in +itself disturbing. He was, for the moment, aware of a slight +sensation of uneasiness, which his common sense, however, speedily +disposed of. + +"There are two ways," he announced, "of dealing with an opponent. +There is the old-fashioned one - crude, but in a sense eminently +satisfactory - which sends him finally to adorn some other sphere." + +"I don't like that one," De Grost interrupted. "Get on with the +alternative." + +"The alternative," Bernadine declared, "is when his capacity for +harm can be destroyed." + +"That needs a little explanation," De Grost murmured. + +"Precisely. For instance, if you were to become absolutely +discredited, I think that you would be effectually out of my way. +Your people do not forgive." + +"Then discredit me, by all means," De Grost begged. "It sounds +unpleasant, but I do not like your callous reference to the river." + +Bernadine gazed at his ancient opponent for several moments. After +all, what was this but the splendid bravado of a beaten man, who is +too clever not to recognize defeat? + +"I shall require," he said, "your code, the keys of your safe, +which contains a great many documents of interest to me, and a +free entry into your house." + +De Grost drew a bunch of keys reluctantly from his pocket and +laid them upon the desk. + +"You will find the code bound in green morocco leather," he +announced, "on the left-hand side, underneath the duplicate of a +proposed Treaty between Italy and some other Power. Between +ourselves, Bernadine, I really expect that that is what you are +after." + +Bernadine's eyes glistened. + +"What about the safe conduct into your house?" he asked. + +De Grost drew his case from his pocket and wrote few lines on the +back of one of his cards. + +"This will insure you entrance there," he said, "and access to my +study. If you see my wife, please reassure her as to my absence." + +"I shall certainly do so," Bernadine agreed, with a faint smile. + +"If I may be pardoned for alluding to a purely personal matter," De +Grost continued, "what is to become of me?" + +"You will be bound and gagged in the same manner as your manager +and his clerk," Bernadine replied, smoothly. "I regret the necessity, +but you see, I can afford to run no risks. At four o'clock in the +morning, you will be released. It must be part of our agreement that +you allow the man who stays behind the others for the purpose of +setting you free, to depart unmolested. I think I know you better +than to imagine you would be guilty of such gaucherie as an appeal +to the police." + +"That, unfortunately," De Grost declared, with a little sigh, "is, +as you well know, out of the question. You are too clever for me, +Bernadine. After all, I shall have to go back to my farm." + +Bernadine opened the door and called softly to one of his men. In +less than five minutes De Grost was bound hand and foot. Bernadine +stepped back and eyed his adversary with an air of ill-disguised +triumph. + +"I trust, Baron," he said, "that you will be as comfortable as +possible, under the circumstances." + +De Grost lay quite still. He was powerless to move or speak. + +"Immediately," Bernadine continued, "I have presented myself at +your house, verified your safe conduct, and helped myself to +certain papers which I am exceedingly anxious to obtain," he went +on, "I shall telephone here to the man whom I leave in charge and +you will be set at liberty in due course. If, for any reason, I +meet with treachery and I do not telephone, you will join Mr. +Greening and his young companion in a little - shall we call it +aquatic recreation? I wish you a pleasant hour and success in +the future, Baron - as a farmer." + +Bernadine withdrew and whispered his orders to his men. Soon the +electric light was turned out and the place was in darkness. The +front door was opened and closed; the group of confederates upon +the pavement lit cigarettes and wished one another good night with +the brisk air of tired employees, released at last from long labors. +Then there was silence. + +It was barely eleven when Bernadine reached the west end of London. +His clothes had become a trifle disarranged and he called for a +few minutes at his rooms in St. James's Street. Afterwards, he +walked to Porchester House and rang the bell. To the servant who +answered it, he handed his master's card. + +"Will you show me the way to the library?" he asked. "I have some +papers to collect for the Baron de Grost." + +The man hesitated. Even with the card in his hand, it seemed a +somewhat unusual proceeding. + +"Will you step inside, sir?" he begged. "I should like to show +this to the Baroness. The master is exceedingly particular about +any one entering his study." + +"Do what you like so long as you do not keep me waiting," Bernadine +replied. "Your master's instructions are clear enough." + +Violet came down the great staircase a few moments later, still in +her dinner gown, her face a little pale, her eyes luminous. +Bernadine smiled as he accepted her eagerly offered hand. She was +evidently anxious. A thrill of triumph warmed his blood. Once she +had been less kind to him than she seemed now. + +"My husband gave you this!" she exclaimed. + +"A few minutes ago," Bernadine answered. "He tried to make his +instructions as clear as possible. We are jointly interested in a +small matter which needs immediate action." + +She led the way to the study. + +"It seems strange," she remarked, "that you and he should be working +together. I always thought that you were on opposite sides." + +"It is a matter of chance," Bernadine told her. "Your husband is +a wise man, Baroness. He knows when to listen to reason." + +She threw open the door of the study, which was in darkness; + +"'If you will wait a moment," she said, closing the door, "I will +turn on the electric light." + +She touched the knobs in the wall and the room was suddenly flooded +with illumination. At the further end of the apartment was the +great safe. Close to it, in an easy chair, his evening coat changed +for a smoking jacket, with a neatly tied black tie replacing his +crumpled white cravat, the Baron de Grost sat awaiting his guest. +A fierce oath broke from Bernadine's lips. He turned toward the +door only in time to hear the key turn. Violet tossed it lightly +in the air across to her husband. + +"My dear Bernadine," the latter remarked, "on the whole, I do not +think that this has been one of your successes. My keys, if you +please." + +Bernadine stood for a moment, his face dark with passion. He bit +his lip till the blood came, and the veins at the back of his +clenched hands were swollen and thick. Nevertheless, when he +spoke he had recovered in great measure his self-control. + +"Your keys are here, Baron de Grost," he said, placing them upon +the table. "If a bungling amateur may make such a request of a +professor, may I inquire how you escaped from your bonds, passed +through the door of a locked warehouse and reached here before me?" + +The Baron de Grost smiled as he pushed the cigarettes across to +his visitor. + +"Really," he said, "you have only to think for yourself for a +moment, my dear Bernadine, and you will understand. In the first +place, the letter you sent me signed 'Greening' was clearly a +forgery. There was no one else anxious to get me into their power, +hence I associated it at once with you. Naturally, I telephoned +to the chief of my staff - I, too, am obliged to employ some of +these un-uniformed policemen, my dear Bernadine, as you may be +aware. It may interest you to know, further, that there are seven +entrances to the warehouse in Tooley Street. Through one of these +something like twenty of my men passed and were already concealed +in the place when I entered. At another of the doors a motor-car +waited for me. If I had chosen to lift my finger at any time, +your men would have been overpowered and I might have had the +pleasure of dictating terms to you in my own office. Such a course +did not appeal to me. You and I, as you know, dear Count von Hern, +conduct our peculiar business under very delicate conditions, and +the least thing we either of us desire is notoriety. I managed +things, as I thought, for the best. The moment you left the place +my men swarmed in. We kindly, but gently, ejected your guard, +released Greening and my clerk, and I passed you myself in Fleet +Street, a little more comfortable, I think, in my forty-horsepower +motor-car than you in that very disreputable hansom. As to my +presence here, I have an entrance from the street there which makes +me independent of my servants. The other details are too absurdly +simple; one need not enlarge upon them." + +Bernadine turned slowly to Violet. + +"You knew?" he muttered. "You knew when you brought me here?" + +"Naturally," she answered. "We have telephones in every room in +the house." + +"I am at your service," Bernadine declared, calmly. + +De Grost laughed. + +"My dear fellow," he said, "need I say that you are free to come +or go, to take a whiskey and soda with me, or to depart at once, +exactly as you feel inclined? The door was locked only until you +restored to me my keys." + +He crossed the room, fitted the key in the lock and turned it. + +"We do not make war as those others," he remarked, smiling. + +Bernadine drew himself up. + +"I will not drink with you," he said, "I will not smoke with you. +But some day this reckoning shall come." + +He turned to the door. De Grost laid his finger upon the bell. + +"Show Count von Hern out," he directed the astonished servant who +appeared a moment or two later. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE SEVEN SUPPERS OF ANDREA KORUST + + +Peter, Baron de Grost, was enjoying what he had confidently looked +forward to as an evening's relaxation, pure and simple. He sat in +one of the front rows of the stalls of the Alhambra, his wife by +his side and an excellent cigar in his mouth. An hour or so ago he +had been in telephonic communication with Paris, had spoken with +Sogrange himself, and received his assurance of a calm in political +and criminal affairs amounting almost to stagnation. It was out +of season, and, though his popularity was as great as ever, neither +he nor his wife had any social engagements; hence this evening at +a music hall, which Peter, for his part, was finding thoroughly +amusing. + +The place was packed - some said owing to the engagement of Andrea +Korust and his brother, others to the presence of Mademoiselle +Sophie Celaire in her wonderful danse des apaches. The violinist +that night had a great reception. Three times he was called before +the curtain; three times he was obliged to reiterate his grateful +but immutable resolve never to yield to the nightly storm which +demanded more from a man who has given of his best. Slim, with the +worn face and hollow eyes of a genius, he stood and bowed his thanks, +but when he thought the time had arrived, he disappeared, and though +the house shook for minutes afterwards, nothing could persuade him +to reappear. + +Afterwards came the turn which, notwithstanding the furore caused +by Andrea Korust's appearance, was generally considered to be +equally responsible for the packed house - the apache dance of +Mademoiselle Sophie Celaire. Peter sat slightly forward in his +chair as the curtain went up. For a time he seemed utterly +absorbed by the performance. Violet glanced at him once or twice +curiously. It began to occur to her that it was not so much the +dance as the dancer in whom her husband was interested. + +"You have seen her before - this Mademoiselle Celaire?" she +whispered. + +"Yes," said Peter, nodding, "I have seen her before." + +The dance proceeded. It was like many others of its sort, only a +little more daring, a little more finished. Mademoiselle Celaire, +in her tight-fitting, shabby black frock, with her wild mass of +hair, her flashing eyes, her seductive gestures, was, without doubt, +a marvelous person. Peter, Baron de Grost, watched her every +movement with absorbed attention. When the curtain went down he +forgot to clap. His eyes followed her off the stage. Violet +shrugged her shoulders. She was looking very handsome herself in +a black velvet dinner gown, and a hat so exceedingly Parisian that +no one had had the heart to ask her to remove it. + +"My dear Peter," she remarked, reprovingly, "a moderate amount of +admiration for that very agile young lady I might, perhaps, be +inclined to tolerate; but, having watched you for the last quarter +of an hour, I am bound to confess that I am becoming jealous." + +"Of Mademoiselle Celaire?" he asked. + +"Of Mademoiselle Sophie Celaire." + +He leaned a little towards her. His lips were parted; he was about +to make a statement or a confession. Just then a tall commissionaire +leaned over from behind and touched him on the shoulder. + +"For Monsieur le Baron de Grost," he announced, handing Peter a note. + +Peter glanced towards his wife. + +"You permit me?" he murmured, breaking the seal. + +Violet shrugged her shoulders, ever so slightly. Her husband was +already absorbed in the few lines hastily scrawled across the sheet +of notepaper which he held in his hand. + + MONSIEUR LE BARON DE GHOST. + Dear Monsieur le Baron, + 4 Come to my dressing-room, without 4 + fail, as soon as you receive this. + SOPHIE CELAIRE. + + +Violet looked over his shoulder. + +"The hussy!" she exclaimed, indignantly. Her husband raised his +eyebrows. With his forefinger he merely tapped the two numerals. + +"The Double-Four!" she gasped. + +He looked around and nodded. The commissionaire was waiting. Peter +took up his silk hat from under the seat. + +"If I am detained, dear," he whispered, "you'll make the best of it, +won't you? The car will be here and Frederick will be looking out +for you." + +"Of course," she answered, cheerfully. "I shall be quite all right." + +She nodded brightly and Peter took his departure. He passed through +a door on which was painted "Private," and through a maze of scenery +and stage hands and ballet ladies by a devious route to the region of +the dressing-rooms. His guide conducted him to the door of one of +these and knocked. + +"Entrez, monsieur," a shrill feminine voice replied. + +Peter entered and closed the door behind him. The commissionaire +remained outside. Mademoiselle Celaire turned to greet her visitor. + +"It is a few words I desire with you as quickly as possible, if you +please, Monsieur le Baron," she said, advancing towards him. +"Listen." + +She had brushed out her hair and it hung from her head straight and +a little stiff, almost like the hair of an Indian woman. She had +washed her face, too, free of all cosmetics and her pallor was almost +waxen. She wore a dressing gown of green silk. Her discarded black +frock lay upon the floor. + +"I am entirely at your service, mademoiselle," Peter answered, +bowing. "Continue, if you please." + +"You sup with me to-night - you are my guest." + +He hesitated. + +"I am very much honored," he murmured. "It is an affair of urgency, +then? Mademoiselle will remember that I am not alone here." + +She threw out her hands scornfully. + +"They told me in Paris that you were a genius!" she exclaimed. +"Cannot you feel, then, when a thing is urgent? Do you not know it +without being told? You must meet me with a carriage at the stage +door in forty minutes. We sup in Hamilton Place with Andrea Korust +and his brother." + +"With whom?" Peter asked, surprised. + +"With the Korust Brothers," she repeated. "I have just been talking +to Andrea. He calls himself a Hungarian. Bah! They are as much +Hungarian, those young men, as I am!" + +Peter leaned slightly against the table and looked thoughtfully at +his companion. He was trying to remember whether he had ever heard +anything of these young men. + +"Mademoiselle," he said, "the prospect of partaking of any meal in +your company is in itself enchanting, but I do not know your friends, +the Korust Brothers. Apart from their wonderful music, I do not +recollect ever having heard of them before in my life. What excuse +have I, then, for accepting their hospitality? Pardon me, too, if I +add that you have not as yet spoken as to the urgency of this affair." + +She turned from him impatiently and, throwing herself back into the +chair from which she had risen at his entrance, she began to exchange +the thick woolen stockings which she had been wearing upon the stage +for others of fine silk. + +"Oh, la, la!" she exclaimed. "You are very slow, Monsieur le Baron. +It is, perhaps, my stage name which has misled you. I am Marie +Lapouse. Does that convey anything to you?" + +"A great deal," Peter admitted, quickly. "You stand very high upon +the list of my agents whom I may trust." + +"Then stay here no longer," she begged, "for my maid waits outside +and I need her services. Go back and make your excuses to your wife. +In forty minutes I shall expect you at the stage door." + +"An affair of diplomacy, this, or brute force?" he inquired. + +"Heaven knows what may happen!" she replied. "To tell you the truth, +I do not know myself. Be prepared for anything, but, for Heaven's +sake, go now! I can dress no further without my maid, and Andrea +Korust may come in at any moment. I do not wish him to find you here." + +Peter made his way thoughtfully back to his seat. He explained the +situation to his wife so far as he could, and sent her home. Then +he waited about until the car returned, smoking a cigarette and +trying once more to remember if he had ever heard anything from +Sogrange of Andrea Korust or his brother. Punctually at the time +stated he was outside the stage door of the music-hall, and a few +minutes later Mademoiselle Celaire appeared, a dazzling vision of +fur and smiles and jewelry imperfectly concealed. A small crowd +pressed around to see the famous Frenchwoman. Peter handed her +gravely across the pavement into his waiting car. One or two of +the loungers gave vent to a groan of envy at the sight of the +diamonds which blazed from her neck and bosom. Peter smiled as he +gave the address to his servant and took his place by the side of +his companion. + +"They see only the externals, this mob," he remarked. "They picture +to themselves, perhaps, a little supper for two. Alas!" + +Mademoiselle Celaire laughed at him softly. + +"You need not trouble to assume that most disconsolate of expressions, +my dear Baron," she assured him. "Your reputation as a man of +gallantry is beyond question; but remember that I know you also for +the most devoted and loyal of husbands. We waste no time in folly, +you and I. It is the business of the Double-Four." + +Peter was relieved, but his innate politeness forbade his showing it. + +"Proceed," he said. + +"The Brothers Korust," she went on, leaning towards him, "have a +week's engagement at the Alhambra. Their salary is six hundred +pounds. They play very beautifully, of course, but I think that +it is as much as they are worth." + +Peter agreed with her fervently. He had no soul for music. + +"They have taken the furnished house belonging to one of your dukes, +in Hamilton Place, for which we are now bound; taken it, too, at a +fabulous rent," Mademoiselle Celaire continued. "They, have +installed there a chef and a whole retinue of servants. They are +here for seven nights; they have issued invitations for seven supper +parties." + +"Hospitable young men they seem to be," Peter murmured. "I read in +one of the stage papers that Andrea is a Count in his own country, +and that they perform in public only for the love of their music and +for the sake of the excitement and travel." + +"A paragraph wholly inspired and utterly false," Mademoiselle Celaire +declared, firmly, sitting a little forward in the car, and laying her +hand, ablaze with jewels, upon his coat sleeve. "Listen. They call +themselves Hungarians. Bah! I know that they are in touch with a +great European court, both of them, the court of the country to which +they belong. They have plans, plans and schemes connected with their +visit here, which I do not understand. I have done my best with +Andrea Korust, but he is not a man to be trusted. I know that there +is something more in these seven supper parties than idle hospitality. +I and others like me, artistes and musicians, are invited, to give +the assembly a properly Bohemian tone; but there are to be other +guests, attracted there, no doubt, because the papers have spoken of +these gatherings." + +"You have some idea of what it all means, in your mind?" Peter +suggested. + +"It is too vague to put into words," she declared, shaking her +head. "We must both watch. Afterwards, we will, if you like, +compare notes." + +The car drew up before the doors of a handsome house in Hamilton +Place. A footman received Peter and relieved him of his hat and +overcoat. A trim maid performed the same office for Mademoiselle +Celaire. They met, a moment or two later, and were ushered into a +large drawing-room in which a dozen or two of men and women were +already assembled, and from which came a pleasant murmur of voices +and laughter. The apartment was hung with pale green satin; the +furniture was mostly Chippendale, upholstered in the same shade. +A magnificent grand piano stood open in a smaller room, just +visible beyond. Only one thing seemed strange to the two newly +arrived guests. The room was entirely lit with shaded candles, +giving a certain mysterious but not unpleasant air of obscurity to +the whole suite of apartments. Through the gloom, the jewels and +eyes of the women seemed to shine with a new brilliance. Slight +eccentricities of toilette, for a part of the gathering was +distinctly Bohemian, were softened and subdued. The whole effect +was somewhat weird, but also picturesque. + +Andrea Korust advanced from a little group to meet his guests. Off +the stage he seemed at first sight frailer and slighter than ever. +His dress coat had been exchanged for a velvet dinner jacket, and +his white tie for a drooping black bow. He had a habit of blinking +nearly all the time, as though his large brown eyes, which he seldom +wholly opened, were weaker than they appeared to be. Nevertheless, +when he came to within a few paces of his newly arrived visitors, +they shone with plenty of expression. Without any change of +countenance, however, he held out his hand. + +"Dear Andrea," Mademoiselle Celaire exclaimed, "you permit me that +I present to you my dear friend, well known in Paris - alas! many +years ago - Monsieur le Baron de Grost. Monsieur le Baron was kind +enough to pay his respects to me this evening, and I have induced +him to become my escort here." + +"It was my good fortune," Peter remarked, smiling, "that I saw +Mademoiselle Celaire's name upon the bills this evening - my good +fortune, since it has procured for me the honor of an acquaintance +with a musician so distinguished." + +"You are very kind, Monsieur le Baron," Korust replied. + +"You stay here, I regret to hear, a very short time?" + +"Alas!" Andrea Korust admitted, "it is so. For myself I would that +it were longer. I find your London so attractive, the people so +friendly. They fall in with my whims so charmingly. I have a +hatred, you know, of solitude. I like to make acquaintances wherever +I go, to have delightful women and interesting men around, to forget +that life is not always gay. If I am too much alone, I am miserable, +and when I am miserable I am in a very bad way indeed. I cannot then +make music." + +Peter smiled gravely and sympathetically. + +"And your brother? Does he, too, share your gregarious instincts?" + +Korust paused for a moment before replying. His eyes were quite +wide open now. If one could judge from his expression, one would +certainly have said that the Baron de Grost's attempts to ingratiate +himself with his host were distinctly unsuccessful. + +"My brother has exactly opposite instincts," he said slowly. "He +finds no pleasure in society. At the sound of a woman's voice, he +hides." + +"He is not here, then?" Peter asked, glancing around. + +Andrea Korust shook his head. + +"It is doubtful whether he joins us this evening at all," he +declared. "My sister, however, is wholly of my disposition. +Monsieur le Baron will permit that I present him." + +Peter bowed low before a very handsome young woman with flashing +black eyes, and a type of features undoubtedly belonging to one +of the countries of eastern Europe. She was picturesquely dressed +in a gown of flaming red silk, made as though in one piece, without +trimming or flounces, and she seemed inclined to bestow upon her +new acquaintance all the attention that he might desire. She took +him at once into a corner and seated herself by his side. It was +impossible for Peter not to associate the empressement of her manner +with the few words which Andrea Korust had whispered into her ear +at the moment of their introduction. + +"So you," she murmured, "are the wonderful Baron de Grost. I have +heard of you so often." + +"Wonderful!" Peter repeated, with twinkling eyes. "I have never +been called that before. I feel that I have no claims whatever to +distinction, especially in a gathering like this." + +She shrugged her shoulders and glanced carelessly across the room. + +"They are well enough," she admitted, "but one wearies of genius on +every side of one. Genius is not the best thing in the world to +live with, you know. It has whims and fancies. For instance, look +at these rooms - the gloom, the obscurity - and I love so much the +light." + +Peter smiled. + +"It is the privilege of genius," he remarked, "to have whims and +to indulge in them." + +She sighed. + +"To do Andrea justice," she said, "it is, perhaps, scarcely a whim +that he chooses to receive his guests in semi-darkness. He has weak +eyes and he is much too vain to wear spectacles. Tell me, you know +every one here?" + +"No one," Peter declared. "Please enlighten me, if you think it +necessary. For myself," he added, dropping his voice a little, "I +feel that the happiness of my evening is assured, without making +any further acquaintances." + +"But you came as the guest of Mademoiselle Celaire," she reminded +him, doubtfully, with a faint regretful sigh and a provocative +gleam in her eyes. + +"I saw Mademoiselle Celaire to-night for the first time for years," +Peter replied. "I called to see her in her dressing-room and she +claimed me for an escort this evening. I am, alas! a very occasional +wanderer in the pleasant paths of Bohemia." + +"If that is really true," she murmured, "I suppose I must tell you +something about the people, or you will feel that you have wasted +your opportunity." + +"Mademoiselle," Peter whispered. + +She held out her hand and laughed into his face. + +"No!" she interrupted. "I shall do my duty. Opposite you is +Mademoiselle Trezani, the famous singer at Covent Garden. Do I +need to tell you that, I wonder? Rudolf Maesterling, the +dramatist, stands behind her there in the corner. He is talking +to the wonderful Cleo, whom all the world knows. Monsieur Guyer +there, he is manager, I believe, of the Alhambra; and talking to +him is Marborg, the great pianist. One of the ladies talking to +my brother is Esther Braithwaite, whom, of course, you know by +sight; she is leading lady, is she not, at the Hilarity? The +other is Miss Ransome; they tell me that she is your only really +great English actress." + +Peter nodded appreciatively. + +"It is all most interesting," he declared. "Now tell me, please, +who is the military person with the stiff figure and sallow +complexion, standing by the door? He seems quite alone." + +The girl made a little grimace. + +"I suppose I ought to be looking after him," she admitted, rising +reluctantly to her feet. "He is a soldier just back from India - a +General Noseworthy, with all sorts of letters after his name. If +Mademoiselle Celaire is generous, perhaps we may have a few minutes' +conversation later on," she added, with a parting smile. + +"Say, rather, if Mademoiselle Korust is kind," De Grost replied, +bowing. "It depends upon that only." + +He strolled across the room and rejoined Mademoiselle Celaire a few +moments later. They stood apart in a corner. + +"I should like my supper," Peter declared. + +"They wait for one more guest," Mademoiselle Celaire announced. + +"One more guest! Do you know who it is?" + +"No idea," she answered. "One would imagine that it was some one +of importance. Are you any wiser than when you came, dear master?" +she added, under her breath. + +"Not a whit," he replied, promptly. + +She took out her fan and waved it slowly in front of her face. + +"Yet you must discover what it all means to-night or not at all," +she whispered. "The dear Andrea has intimated to me most +delicately that another escort would be more acceptable if I should +honor him again." + +"That helps," he murmured. "See, our last guest arrives." + +A tall, - spare-looking man was just being announced. They heard +his name as Andrea presented him to a companion - + +"Colonel Mayson!" + +Mademoiselle Celaire saw a gleam in her companion's eyes. + +"It is coming - the idea?" she whispered. + +"Very vaguely," he admitted. + +"Who is this Colonel Mayson?" + +"Our only military aeronaut," Peter replied. + +She raised her eyebrows. + +"Aeronaut!" she repeated, doubtfully. "I see nothing in that. +Both my own country and Germany are years ahead of poor England +in the air. Is it not so?" + +Peter smiled and held out his arm. + +"See," he said, "supper has been announced. Afterwards, Andrea +Korust will play to us, and I think that Colonel Mayson and his +distinguished brother officer from India will talk. We shall see." + +They passed into a room whose existence had suddenly been +revealed by the drawing back of some beautiful brocaded curtains. +Supper was a delightful meal, charmingly served. Peter, putting +everything else out of his head for the moment, thoroughly enjoyed +himself, and, remembering his duty as a guest, contributed in no +small degree towards the success of the entertainment. He sat +between Mademoiselle Celaire and his hostess, both of whom demanded +much from him in the way of attention. But he still found time to +tell stories which were listened to by every one, and exchanged +sallies with the gayest. Only Andrea Korust, from his place at the +head of the table, glanced occasionally towards his popular guest +with a curious, half-hidden expression of distaste and suspicion. + +The more the Baron de Grost shone, the more uneasy he became. The +signal to rise from the meal was given almost abruptly. Mademoiselle +Korust hung on to Peter's arm. Her own wishes and her brother's +orders seemed absolutely to coincide. She led him towards a retiring +corner of the music room. On the way, however, Peter overheard the +introduction which he had expected. + +"General Noseworthy is just returned from India, Colonel Mayson," +Korust said, in his usual quiet, tired tone. "You will, perhaps, +find it interesting to talk together a little. As for me, I play +because all are polite enough to wish it, but conversation disturbs +me not in the least." + +Peter passed, smiling, on to the corner pointed out by his companion, +which was the darkest and most secluded in the room. He took her +fan and gloves, lit her cigarette, and leaned back by her side. + +"How does your brother, a stranger to London, find time to make the +acquaintance of so many interesting people?" he asked. + +"He brought many letters," she replied. "He has friends everywhere." + +"I have an idea," Peter remarked, "that an acquaintance of my own, +the Count von Hern, spoke to me once about him." + +She took her cigarette from her lips and turned her head slightly. +Peter's expression was one of amiable reminiscence. His cheeks +were a trifle flushed, his appearance was entirely reassuring. She +laughed at her brother's caution. She found her companion delightful. + +"Yes, the Count von Hern is a friend of my brother's," she admitted, +carelessly. + +"And of yours?" he whispered, his arm slightly pressed against hers. + +She laughed at him silently and their eyes met. Decidedly Peter, +Baron de Grost, found it hard to break away from his old weakness! +Andrea Korust, from his place near the piano, breathed a sigh of +relief as he watched. A moment or two later, however, Mademoiselle +Korust was obliged to leave her companion to receive a late but +unimportant guest, and almost simultaneously Colonel Mayson passed +by on his way to the farther end of the apartment. Andrea Korust +was bending over the piano to give some instructions to his +accompanist. Peter leaned forward and his face and tone were +strangely altered. + +"You will find General Noseworthy of the Indian Army a little +inquisitive, Colonel," he remarked. + +The latter turned sharply round. There was meaning in those few +words, without doubt! There was meaning, too, in the still, cold +face which seemed to repel his question. He passed on thoughtfully. +Mademoiselle Korust, with a gesture of relief, came back and threw +herself once more upon the couch. + +"We must talk in whispers," she said, gayly. "Andrea always +declares that he does not mind conversation, but too much noise is, +of course, impossible. Besides, Mademoiselle Celaire will not spare +you to me for long." + +"There is a whole language," he replied, "which was made for +whispers. And as for Mademoiselle Celaire -" + +"Well?" + +He laughed softly. + +"Mademoiselle Celaire is, I think, more your brother's friend than +mine," he murmured. "At least, I will be generous. He has given me +a delightful evening. I resign my claims upon Mademoiselle Celaire." + +"It would break your heart," she declared. + +His voice sank even below a whisper. Decidedly, Peter, Baron de Grost, +did not improve! + +He rose to leave precisely at the right time, neither too early nor +too late. He had spent altogether a most amusing evening. There +were one or two little comedies which had diverted him extremely. +At the moment of parting, the beautiful eyes of Mademoiselle Korust +had been raised to his very earnestly. + +"You will come again very soon - to-morrow night?" she had whispered. +"Is it necessary that you bring Mademoiselle Celaire?" + +"It is altogether unnecessary," Peter replied. + +"Let me try and entertain you instead, then!" + +It was precisely at that instant that Andrea had sent for his sister. +Peter watched their brief conversation with much interest and intense +amusement. She was being told not to invite him there again and she +was rebelling! Without a doubt, he had made a conquest! She returned +to him flushed and with a dangerous glitter in her eyes. + +"Monsieur le Baron," she said, leading him on one side, "I am ashamed +and angry." + +"Your brother is annoyed because you have asked me here to-morrow +night?" he asked, quickly. + +"It is so," she confessed. "Indeed, I thank you that you have spared +me the task of putting my brother's discourtesy into words. Andrea +takes violent fancies like that sometimes. I am ashamed, but what +can I do?" + +"Nothing, mademoiselle," he admitted, with a sigh. "I obey, of +course. Did your brother mention the source of his aversion to me?" + +"He is too absurd sometimes," she declared. "One must treat him +like a great baby." + +"Nevertheless, there must be a reason," Peter persisted, gently. + +"He has heard some foolish thing from Count von Hern," she admitted, +reluctantly. "Do not let us think anything more about it. In a +few days it will have passed. And meanwhile - " + +She paused. He leaned a little towards her. She was looking +intently at a ring upon her finger. + +"If you would really like to see me," she whispered, "and if you are +sure that Mademoiselle Celaire would not object, could you not ask +me to tea to-morrow - or the next day?" + +"To-morrow," Peter insisted, with a becoming show of eagerness. +"Shall we say at the Canton at five?" + +She hesitated. + +"Isn't that rather a public place?" she objected. + +"Anywhere else you like." + +She was silent for a moment. She seemed to be waiting for some +suggestion from him. None came, however. + +"The Carlton at five," she murmured. "I am angry with Andrea. I +feel, even, that I could break his wonderful violin in two!" + +Peter sighed once more. + +"I should like to twist von Hern's neck," he declared. "Lucky for +him that he's in St. Petersburg! Let us forget this unpleasant +matter, mademoiselle. The evening has been too delightful for such +memories." + +Mademoiselle Celaire turned to her escort eagerly as soon as they +were alone together in the car. + +"As an escort, let me tell you, my dear Baron," she exclaimed, with +some pique, "that you are a miserable failure! For the rest - " + +"For the rest, I will admit that I am puzzled," Peter said. "I need +to think. I have the glimmerings of an idea - no more." + +"You will act? It is an affair for us - for the Double-Four?" + +"Without a doubt - an affair and a serious one," Peter assured her. +"I shall act; exactly how I cannot say until after to-morrow." + +"To-morrow?" she repeated, inquiringly. + +"Mademoiselle Korust takes tea with me," he explained. + +In a quiet sort of way, the series of supper parties given by Andrea +Korust became the talk of London. The most famous dancer in the +world broke through her unvarying rule and night after night thrilled +the distinguished little gathering. An opera singer, the "star" of +the season, sang, a great genius recited, and Andrea himself gave +always of his best. Apart from this wonderful outpouring of talent, +Andrea Korust himself seemed to possess the peculiar art of bringing +into touch with one another people naturally interested in the same +subjects. On the night after the visit of Peter, Baron de Grost, +His Grace the Duke of Rosshire was present, the man in whose hands +lay the destinies of the British Navy; and, curiously enough, on +the same night, a great French writer on naval subjects was present, +whom the Duke had never met, and with whom he was delighted to talk +for some time apart. On another occasion, the Military Secretary +to the French Embassy was able to have a long and instructive chat +with a distinguished English general on the subject of the recent +maneuvers, and the latter received, in the strictest confidence, some +very interesting information concerning the new type of French guns. +On the following evening, the greatest of our Colonial statesmen, a +red-hot Imperialist, was able to chat about the resources of the +Empire with an English politician of similar views whom he chanced +never to have previously met. Altogether, these parties seemed to be +the means of bringing together a series of most interesting people, +interesting not only in themselves, but in their relations to one +another. It was noticeable, however, that from this side of his +little gatherings Andrea Korust remained wholly apart. He frankly +admitted that music and cheerful companionship were the only two +things in life he cared for. Politics or matters of world import +seemed to leave him unmoved. If a serious subject of conversation +were started at supper time, he was frankly bored, and took no +particular pains to hide the fact. It is certain that whatever +interesting topics were alluded to in his presence, he remained +entirely outside any understanding of them. Mademoiselle Celaire, +who was present most evenings, although with other escorts, was +entirely puzzled. She could see nothing whatever to account for +the warning which she had received, and which she had passed on, +as was her duty, to the Baron de Grost. She failed, also, to +understand the faint but perceptible enlightenment to which Peter +himself had admittedly attained after that first evening. Take +that important conversation, for instance, between the French +military attach, and the English general. Without a doubt it was +of interest, and especially so to the country which she was sure +claimed his allegiance, but it was equally without doubt that +Andrea Korust neither overheard a word of that conversation nor +betrayed the slightest curiosity concerning it. Mademoiselle +Celaire was a clever woman and she had never felt so hopelessly +at fault.... + +The seventh and last of these famous supper parties was in full +swing. Notwithstanding the shaded candles, which left the faces +of the guests a little indistinct, the scene was a brilliant one. +Mademoiselle Celaire was wearing her famous diamonds, which shone +through the gloom like pin-pricks of fire. Garda Desmaines, the +wonderful Garda, sat next to her host, her bosom and hair on fire +with jewels, yet with the most wonderful light of all glowing +in her eyes. A famous actor, who had thrown his proverbial +reticence to the winds, kept his immediate neighbors in a state +of semi-hysterical mirth. The clink of wine glasses, the laughter +of beautiful women, the murmur of cultivated voices, rising and +swelling through the faint, mysterious gloom, made a picturesque, +a wonderful scene. Pale as a marble statue, with the covert smile +of the gracious host, Andrea Korust sat at the head of his table, +well pleased with his company, as indeed he had the right to be. +By his side was a great American statesman, who was traveling +around the world and yet had refused all other invitations of this +sort. He had come for the pleasure of meeting the famous Dutch +writer and politician, Mr. Van Jool. The two were already talking +intimately. It was at this point that tragedy, or something like +it, intervened. A impatient voice was heard in the hall outside, +a voice which grew louder and louder, more impatient, finally +more passionate. People raised their heads to listen. The +American statesman, who was, perhaps, the only one to realize +exactly what was coming, slipped his hand into his pocket and +gripped something cold and hard. Then the door was flung open. +An apologetic and much disturbed butler made the announcement +which had evidently been demanded of him. + +"Mr. Von Tassen!" + +A silence followed - breathless - the silence before the bursting +of the storm. Mr. Von Tassen was the name of the American +statesman, and the man who rose slowly from his place by his host's +side was the exact double of the man who stood now upon the +threshold, gazing in upon the room. The expression of the two +alone was different. The newcomer was furiously angry, and looked +it. The sham Mr. Von Tassen was very much at his ease. It was he +who broke the silence, and his voice was curiously free from all +trace of emotion. He was looking his double over with an air of +professional interest. + +"On the whole," he said, calmly, "very good. A little stouter, I +perceive, and the eyebrows a trifle too regular. Of course, when +you make faces at me like that, it is hard to judge of the expression. +I can only say that I did the best I could." + +"Who the devil are you, masquerading in my name?" the newcomer +demanded, with emphasis. "This man is an impostor!" he added, +turning to Andrea Korust. "What is he doing at your table?" + +Andrea leaned forward and his face was an evil thing to look upon. + +"Who are you?" he hissed out. + +The sham Mr. Von Tassen turned away for a moment and stooped down. +The trick has been done often enough upon the stage, often in less +time, but seldom with more effect. The wonderful wig disappeared, +the spectacles, the lines in the face, the make-up of diabolical +cleverness. With his back to the wall and his fingers playing with +something in his pocket, Peter, Baron de Grost, smiled upon his host. + +"Since you insist upon knowing - the Baron de Grost, at your +service!" he announced. + +Andrea Korust was, for the moment, speechless. One of the women +shrieked. The real Mr. Von Tassen looked around him helplessly. + +"Will some one be good enough to enlighten me as to the meaning of +this?" he begged. "Is it a roast? If so, I only want to catch on. +Let me get to the joke, if there is one. If not, I should like a +few words of explanation from you, sir," he added, addressing Peter. + +"Presently," the latter replied. "In the meantime, let me persuade +you that I am not the only impostor here." + +He seized a glass of water and dashed it in the face of Mr. Van +Jool. There was a moment's scuffle, and no more of Mr. Van Jool. +What emerged was a good deal like the shy Maurice Korust, who +accompanied his brother at the music hall, but whose distaste for +these gatherings had been Andrea's continual lament. The Baron de +Grost stepped back once more against the wall. His host was +certainly looking dangerous. Mademoiselle Celaire was leaning +forward, staring through the gloom with distended eyes. Around the +table every head was turned towards the centre of the disturbance. +It was Peter again who spoke. + +"Let me suggest, Andrea Korust," he said, "that you send your guests + - those who are not immediately interested in this affair - into +the next room. I will offer Mr. Von Tassen then the explanation to +which he is entitled." + +Andrea Korust staggered to his feet. The nerve had failed. He +was shaking all over. He pointed to the music room. + +"If you would be so good, ladies and gentlemen?" he begged. "We +will follow you immediately." + +They went with obvious reluctance. All their eyes seemed focussed +upon Peter. He bore their scrutiny with calm cheerfulness. For a +moment he had feared Korust, but that moment had passed. A servant, +obeying his master's gesture, pulled back the curtains after the +departing crowd. The four men were alone. + +"Mr. Von Tassen," Peter said, easily, "you are a man who loves +adventures. To-night you experience a new sort of one. Over in +your great country, such methods are laughed at as the cheap +device of sensation mongers. Nevertheless, they exist. To-night +is a proof that they exist." + +"Get on to facts, sir," the American admonished. "You've got to +explain to me what you mean by passing yourself off as Thomas Von +Tassen, before you leave this room." + +Peter bowed. + +"With much pleasure, Mr. Von Tassen," he declared. "For your +information, I might tell you that you are not the only person in +whose guise I have figured. In fact, I have had quite a busy week. +I have been - let me see - I have been Monsieur le Marquis de Beau +Kunel on the night when our shy friend, Maurice Korust, was +playing the part of General Henderson. I have also been His Grace +the Duke of Rosshire when my friend Maurice here was introduced to +me as Francois Defayal, known by name to me as one of the greatest +writers on naval matters. A little awkward about the figure I +found His Grace, but otherwise I think that I should have passed +muster wherever he was known. I have also passed as Sir William +Laureston, on the evening when my rival artist here sang the +praises of Imperial England." + +Andrea Korust leaned forward with venomous eyes. + +"You mean that it was you who was here last night in Sir William +Laureston's place?" he almost shrieked. + +"Most certainly," Peter admitted, "but you must remember that, after +all, my performances have been no more difficult than those of your +shy but accomplished brother. Whenever I took to myself a strange +personality I found him there, equally good as to detail, and with +his subject always at his finger tips. We settled that little matter +of the canal, didn't we?" Peter remarked, cheerfully, laying his +hand upon the shoulder of the young man. + +They stared at him, those two white-faced brothers, like tiger-cats +about to spring. Mr. Von Tassen was getting impatient. + +"Look here," he protested, "you may be clearing matters up so far +as regards Mr. Andrea Korust and his brother, but I'm as much in +the fog as ever. Where do I come in?" + +"Your pardon, sir," Peter replied. "I am getting nearer things +now. These two young men - we will not call them hard names - are +suffering from an excess of patriotic zeal. They didn't come and +sit down on a camp stool and sketch obsolete forts, as those others +of their countrymen do when they want to pose as the bland and +really exceedingly ignorant foreigner. They went about the matter +with some skill. It occurred to them that it might be interesting +to their country to know what Sir William Laureston thought about +the strength of the Imperial Navy, and to what extent his country +was willing to go in maintaining their allegiance to Great Britain. +Then there was the Duke of Rosshire. They thought they'd like to +know his views as to the development of the Navy during the next +ten years. There was that little matter, too, of the French guns. +It would certainly be interesting to them to know what Monsieur le +Marquis de Beau Kunel had to say about them. These people were all +invited to sit at the hospitable board of our host here. I, however, +had an inkling on the first night of what was going on, and I was +easily able to persuade those in authority to let me play their +several parts. You, sir," Peter added, turning to Mr. Von Tassen, +"you, sir, floored me. You were not an Englishman, and there was +no appeal which I could make. I simply had to risk you. I counted +upon your not turning up. Unfortunately, you did. Fortunately, +you are the last guest. This is the seventh supper." + +Mr. Von Tassen glanced around at the three men and made up his mind. + +"What do you call yourself?" he asked Peter. + +"The Baron de Grost," Peter replied. + +"Then, my friend the Baron de Grost," Von Tassen said, "I think +that you and I had better get out of this. So I was to talk about +Germany with Mr. Van Jool, eh?" + +"I have already explained your views," Peter declared, with +twinkling eyes. "Mr. Van Jool was delighted." + +Mr. Von Tassen shook with laughter. + +"Say," he exclaimed, "this is a great story! If you're ready, +Baron de Grost, lead the way to where we can get a whiskey and +soda and a chat." + +Mademoiselle Celaire came gliding out to them. + +"I am not going to be left here," she whispered, taking Peter's arm. + +Peter looked back from the door. + +"At any rate, Mr. Andrea Korust," he said, "your first supper was +a success. Colonel Mayson was genuine. Our real English military +aeronaut was here, and he has disclosed to you, Maurice Korust, all +that he ever knew. Henceforth, I presume your great country will +dispute with us for the mastery of the air. + +"Queer country, this!" Mr. Von Tassen remarked, pausing on the step +to light a cigar. "Seems kind of humdrum after New York, but there's +no use talking. Things do happen over here, anyway!" + + + +CHAPTER VII + +MAJOR KOSUTH'S MISSION + + +His host, very fussy as he always was on the morning of his big +shoot, came bustling towards Peter, Baron de Grost, with a piece +of paper in his hand. The party of men had just descended from a +large brake and were standing about on the edge of the common, +examining cartridges, smoking a last cigarette before the business +of the morning, and chatting together over the prospects of the +day's sport. In the distance, a cloud of dust indicated the +approach of a fast traveling motor-car. + +"My dear Baron," Sir William Bounderby said, "I want you to change +your stand to-day. I must have a good man at the far corner as +the birds go off my hand from there, and Addington was missing them +shockingly yesterday. Besides, there is a new man coming on your +left and I know nothing of his shooting - nothing at all!" + +Peter smiled. + +"Anywhere you choose to put me, Sir William," he assented. "They +came badly for Addington yesterday, and well for me. However, +I'll do my best." + +"I wish people wouldn't bring strangers, especially to the one +shoot where I'm keen about the bag. I told Portal he could bring +his brother-in-law, and he's bringing this foreign fellow instead. +Don't suppose he can shoot for nuts! Did you ever hear of him, I +wonder? The Count von Hern, he calls himself." + +The motor-car had come to a standstill by this time. From it +descended Mr. Portal himself, a large neighboring land owner, a +man of culture and travel. With him was Bernadine, in a very +correct shooting suit and Tyrolese hat. On the other side of Mr. +Portal was a short, thick set man, with olive complexion, keen +black eyes, black mustache and imperial, who was dressed in city +clothes. Sir William's eyebrows were slightly raised as he +advanced to greet the party. Peter was at once profoundly +interested. + +Mr. Portal introduced his guests. + +"You will forgive me, I am sure, for bringing a spectator, Bounderby," +he said. "Major Kosuth, whom I have the honor to present - Major +Kosuth, Sir William Bounderby - is high up in the diplomatic service +of a country with whom we must feel every sympathy - the young Turks. +The Count von Hern, who takes my brother-in-law's place, is probably +known to you by name." + +Sir William welcomed his visitors cordially. + +"You do not shoot, Major Kosuth?" he asked. + +"Very seldom," the Turk answered. "I come to-day with my good +friend, Count von Hern, as a spectator, if you permit." + +"Delighted," Sir William replied. "We will find you +a safe place near your friend." + +The little party began to move toward the wood. It was just at this +moment that Bernadine felt a touch upon his shoulder, and, turning +around, found Peter by his side. + +"An unexpected pleasure, my dear Count," the latter declared, suavely. +"I had no idea that you took interest in such simple sports." + +The manners of Count von Hern were universally quoted as being almost +too perfect. It is a regrettable fact, however, that at that moment +he swore - softly, perhaps, but with distinct vehemence. A moment +later he was exchanging the most cordial of greetings with his old +friend. + +"You have the knack, my dear De Grost," he remarked, "of turning up +in the most surprising places. I certainly did not know that among +your many accomplishments was included a love for field sports." + +Peter smiled quietly. He was a very fine shot, and knew it. + +"One must amuse oneself these days," he said. "There is little else +to do." + +Bernadine bit his lip. + +"My absence from this country, I fear, has robbed you of an +occupation." + +"It has certainly deprived life of some of its savor," Peter +admitted, blandly. "By the bye, will you not present me to your +friend? I have the utmost sympathy with the intrepid political +party of which he is a member." + +Von Hern performed the introduction with a reluctance which he +wholly failed to conceal. The Turk, however, had been walking on +his other side, and his hat was already lifted. Peter had purposely +raised his voice. + +"It gives me the greatest pleasure, Major Kosuth," Peter said, "to +welcome you to this country. In common, I believe, with the majority +of my country people, I have the utmost respect and admiration for +the movement which you represent." + +Major Kosuth smiled slowly. His features were heavy and +unexpressive. There was something of gloom, however, in the manner +of his response. + +"You are very kind, Baron," he replied, "and I welcome very much +this expression of your interest in my party. I believe that the +hearts of your country people are turned towards us in the same +manner. I could wish that your country's political sympathies were +as easily aroused." + +Bernadine intervened promptly. + +"Major Kosuth has been here only one day," he remarked, lightly. "I +tell him that he is a little too impatient. See, we are approaching +the wood. It is as well here to refrain from conversation." + +"We will resume it later," Peter said, softly. "I have interests in +Turkey, and it would give me great pleasure to have a talk with Major +Kosuth." + +"Financial interests?" the latter inquired, with some eagerness. + +Peter nodded. + +"I will explain after the first drive," he said, turning away. + +Peter walked rather quickly until he reached a bend in the wood, and +overtaking his host, paused for a moment. + +"Lend me a loader for half an hour, Sir William," he begged. "I +have to send my servant to the village with a telegram." + +"With pleasure!" Sir William answered. "There are several to spare. +I'll send one to your stand. There's Von Hern going the wrong way!" +he exclaimed, in a tone of annoyance. + +Peter was just in time to stop the whistle from going to his mouth. + +"Do me another favor, Sir William," he pleaded. "Give me time to +send off my telegram before the Count sees what I'm doing. He's such +an inquisitive person," he went on, noticing his host's look of blank +surprise. "Thank you ever so much." + +Peter hurried on to his place. It was round the corner of the wood +and for the moment out of sight of the rest of the party. He tore +a sheet from his pocket-book and scribbled out a telegram. His man +had disappeared and a substitute taken his place by the time von +Hern arrived. The latter was now all amiability. It was hard to +believe, from his smiling salutation, that he and the man to whom +he waved his hand in so airy a fashion had ever declared war to the +death! + +The shooting began a few minutes later. Major Kosuth, from a +campstool a few yards behind his friend, watched with somewhat +languid interest. He gave one, indeed, the impression that his +thoughts were far removed from this simple country party, the main +object of whose existence for the present seemed to be the slaying +of a certain number of inoffensive birds. He watched the indifferent +performance of his friend and the remarkably fine shooting of his +neighbor on the left, with the same lack-luster eye and want of +enthusiasm. The beat was scarcely over before Peter, resigning his +smoking guns, lit a cigarette and strolled across to the next stand. +He plunged at once into a conversation with Kosuth, notwithstanding +Bernadine's ill-concealed annoyance. + +"Major Kosuth," he began, "I sympathize with you. It is a hard +task for a man whose mind is centered upon great events, to sit +still and watch a performance of this sort. Be kind to us all +and remember that this represents to us merely a few hours of +relaxation. We, too, have our more serious moments." + +"You read my thoughts well," Major Kosuth declared. "I do not +seek to excuse them. For half a life-time we Turks have toiled +and striven, always in danger of our lives, to help forward those +things which have now come to pass. I think that our lives have +become tinged with somberness and apprehension. Now that the +first step is achieved, we go forward, still with trepidation. +We need friends, Baron de Grost." + +"You cannot seriously doubt but that you will find them in this +country," Peter remarked. "There has never been a time when the +English nation has not sympathized with the cause of liberty." + +"It is not the hearts of your people," Major Kosuth said, "which I +fear. It is the antics of your politicians. Sympathy is a great +thing, and good to have, but Turkey to-day needs more. The heart of +a nation is big, but the number of those in whose hands it remains +to give practical expression to its promptings, is few." + +Bernadine, who had stood as much as he could, seized forcibly upon +his friend. + +"You must remember our bargain, Kosuth," he insisted, "no politics +to-day. Until to-morrow evening we rest. Now I want to introduce +you to a very old friend of mine - the Lord-Lieutenant of the county." + +No man was better informed in current political affairs, but Peter, +instead of joining the cheerful afternoon tea party at the close of +the day, raked out a file of the Times from the library, and studied +it carefully in his room. There were one or two items of news +concerning which he made pencil notes. He had scarcely finished his +task before a servant brought in a dispatch. He opened it with +interest and drew pencil and paper towards him. It was from Paris, +and in the code which he had learned by heart, no written key of +which existed. Carefully he transposed it on to paper and read it +through. It was dated from Paris a few hours back. + +Kosuth left for England yesterday. Envoy from new Turkish Government. +Requiring loan one million pounds. Asked for guarantee that it was +not for warlike movement against Bulgaria, declined to give same. +Communicated with English Ambassador and informed Kosuth yesterday +that neither government would sanction loan unless undertaking were +given that the same was not to be applied for war against Bulgaria. +Turkey is under covenant to enter into no financial obligations with +any other Power while the interest of former loans remains in +abeyance. Kosuth has made two efforts to obtain loan privately, +from prominent English financier and French Syndicate. Both have +declined to treat on representations from government. Kosuth was +expected return direct to Turkey. If, as you say, he is in England +with Bernadine, we commend the affair to your utmost vigilance. +Germany exceedingly anxious enter into close relations with new +government of Turkey. Fear Kosuth's association with Bernadine +proof of bad faith. Have had interview with Minister for foreign +affairs, who relies upon our help. French Secret Service at your +disposal, if necessary. + +Peter read the message three times with the greatest care. He was +on the point of destroying it when Violet came into the room. She +was wearing a long tea jacket of sheeny silk. Her beautiful hair +was most becomingly arranged, her figure as light and girlish as +ever. She came into the room humming gayly and swinging a gold +purse upon her finger. + +"Won three rubbers out of four, Peter," she declared, "and a +compliment from the Duchess. Am I a pupil to be proud of?" + +She stopped short. Her lips formed themselves into the shape of a +whistle. She knew very well the signs. Her husband's eyes were +kindling, there was a firm set about his lips, the palm of his hand +lay flat upon that sheet of paper. + +"It was true?" she murmured. "It was Bernadine who was shooting +to-day?" + +Peter nodded. + +"He was on the next stand," he replied. + +"Then there is something doing, of course," Violet continued. "My +dear Peter, you may be an enigma to other people. To me you have +the most expressive countenance I ever saw. You have had a cable +which you have just transcribed. If I had been a few minutes later, +I think you would have torn up the result. As it is, I think I have +come just in time to hear all about it." + +Peter smiled, grimly but fondly. He uncovered the sheet of paper +and placed it in her hands. + +"So far," he said, "there isn't much to tell you. Von Hern turned +up this morning with a Major Kosuth, who was one of the leaders of +the revolution in Turkey. I wired Paris and this is the reply." + +She read the message through thoughtfully and handed it back. Peter +lit a match, and standing over the fireplace calmly destroyed it. + +"A million pounds is not a great sum of money," Violet remarked. +"Why could not Kosuth borrow it for his country from a private +individual?" + +"A million pounds is not a large sum to talk about," Peter +replied, "but it is an exceedingly large sum for any one, even +a multi-millionaire, to handle in cash. And Turkey, I gather, +wants it at once. Besides, considerations which might be a +security from a government, are no security at all as applied +to a private individual." + +She nodded. + +"Do you think that Kosuth means to go behind the existing treaty +and borrow from Germany?" + +Peter shook his head. + +"I can't quite believe that," he said. "It would mean the +straining of diplomatic relations with both countries. It is out +of the question." + +"Then where does Bernadine come in?" + +"I do not know," Peter answered. + +Violet laughed. + +"What is it that you are going to try and find out?" she asked. + +"I am trying to discover who it is that Bernadine and Kosuth are +waiting to see," Peter replied. "The worst of it is, I daren't +leave here. I shall have to trust to the others." + +She glanced at the clock. + +"Well, go and dress," she said. "I'm afraid I've a little of your +blood in me, after all. Life seems more stirring when Bernadine +is on the scene." + + +The shooting party broke up two days later and Peter and his wife +returned at once to town. The former found the reports which were +awaiting his arrival disappointing. Bernadine and his guest were +not in London, or if they were they had carefully avoided all the +usual haunts. Peter read his reports over again, smoked a very +long cigar alone in his study, and finally drove down to the city +and called upon his stockbroker, who was also a personal friend. +Things were flat in the city, and the latter was glad enough to +welcome an important client. He began talking the usual market +shop until his visitor stopped him. + +"I have come to you, Edwardes, more for information than anything," +Peter declared, "although it may mean that I shall need to sell a lot +of stock. Can you tell me of any private financier who could raise +a loan of a million pounds in cash within the course of a week?" + +The stockbroker looked dubious. + +"In cash," he repeated. "Money isn't raised that way, you know. +I doubt whether there are many men in the whole city of London who +could put up such an amount with only a week's notice." + +"But there must be some one," Peter persisted. "Think! It would +probably be a firm or a man not obtrusively English. I don't think +the Jews would touch it, and a German citizen would be impossible." + +"Semi-political, eh?" + +Peter nodded. + +"It is rather that way," he admitted. + +"Would your friend Count von Hern be likely to be concerned in it?" + +"Why?" Peter asked, with immovable face. + +"Nothing, only I saw him coming out of Heseltine-Wrigge's office the +other day," the stockbroker remarked, carelessly. + +"And who is Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge?" + +"A very wealthy American financier," the stockbroker replied, "not +at all an unlikely person for a loan of the sort you mention." + +"American citizen?" Peter inquired. + +"Without a doubt. Of German descent, I should say, but nothing +much left of it in his appearance. He settled over here in a huff +because New York society wouldn't receive his wife." + +"I remember all about it," Peter declared. "She was a chorus girl, +wasn't she? Nothing particular against her, but the fellow had no +tact. Do you know him, Edwardes?" + +"Slightly," the stockbroker answered. + +"Give me a letter to him," Peter said. "Give my credit as good a +leg as you can. I shall probably go as a borrower." + +Mr. Edwardes wrote a few lines and handed them to his client. + +"Office is nearly opposite," he remarked. "Wish you luck, whatever +your scheme is." + +Peter crossed the street and entered the building which his friend +had pointed out. He ascended in the lift to the third floor, +knocked at the door which bore Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge's name, and +almost ran into the arms of a charmingly dressed little lady, who +was being shown out by a broad-shouldered, typical American. Peter +hastened to apologize. + +"I beg your pardon," he said, raising his hat. "I was rather in a +hurry and I quite thought I heard some one say 'Come in.'" + +The lady replied pleasantly. Her companion, who was carrying his +hat in his hand, paused reluctantly. + +"Did you want to see me?" he asked. + +"If you are Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge, I did," Peter admitted. "I am the +Baron de Grost, and I have a letter of introduction to you from Mr. +Edwardes." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge tore open the envelope and glanced through the +contents of the note. Peter, meanwhile, looked at his wife with +genuine but respectfully cloaked admiration. The lady obviously +returned his interest. + +"Why, if you're the Baron de Grost," she exclaimed, "didn't you +marry Vi Brown? She used to be at the Gaiety with me, years ago." + +"I certainly did marry Violet Brown," Peter confessed, "and, if you +will allow me to say so, Mrs. Heseltine-Wrigge, I should have +recognized you anywhere from your photographs." + +"Say, isn't that queer?" the little lady remarked, turning to her +husband. "I should love to see Vi again." + +"If you will give me your address," Peter declared, promptly, "my +wife will be delighted to call upon you." + +The man looked up from the note. + +"Do you want to talk business with me, Baron?" he asked. + +"For a few moments only," Peter answered. "I am afraid I am a great +nuisance, and if you wish it I will come down to the city again." + +"That's all right," Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge replied. "Myra won't mind +waiting a minute or two. Come through here." + +He turned and led the way into a quiet-looking suite of offices, +where one or two clerks were engaged writing at open desks. They all +three passed into an inner room. + +"Any objections to my wife coming in?" Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge asked. +"there's scarcely any place for her out there." + +"Delighted," Peter answered. + +She glanced at the clock. + +"Remember we have to meet the Count von Hern at half past one at +Prince's, Charles," she reminded him. + +Her husband nodded. There was nothing in Peter's expression to +denote that he had already achieved the first object of his visit! + +"I shall not detain you," he said. "Your name has been mentioned +to me, Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge, as a financier likely to have a large +sum of money at his disposal. I have a scheme which needs money. +Providing the security is unexceptionable, are you in a position to +do a deal?" + +"How much do you want?" Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge asked. + +"A million to a million and a half," Peter answered. + +"Dollars? + +"Pounds." + +It was not Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge's pose to appear surprised. +Nevertheless, his eyebrows were slightly raised. + +"Say, what is this scheme?" he inquired. + +"First of all," Peter replied, "I should like to know whether there's +any chance of business if I disclose it." + +"Not an atom," Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge declared. "I have just +committed myself to the biggest financial transaction of my +life and it will clean me out." + +"Then I won't waste your time," Peter announced, rising. + +"Sit down for a moment," Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge invited, biting the +end off a cigar and passing the box toward Peter. "That's all +right. My wife doesn't mind. Say, it strikes me as rather a +curious thing that you should come in here and talk about a +million and a half, when that's just the amount concerned in my +other little deal." + +Peter smiled. + +"As a matter of fact, it isn't at all queer," he answered. "I don't +want the money. I came to see whether you were really interested in +the other affair - the Turkish loan, you know." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge withdrew his cigar from his mouth and looked +steadily at his visitor. + +"Say, Baron," he declared, "you've got a nerve!" + +"Not at all," Peter replied. "I'm here as much in your interests +as my own." + +"Whom do you represent, anyway?" Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge inquired. + +"A company you have never heard of," Peter replied. "Our offices +are in the underground places of the world, and we don't run to +brass plates. I am here because I am curious about that loan. +Turkey hasn't a shadow of security to offer you. Everything which +she can pledge is pledged, to guarantee the interest on existing +loans to France and England. She is prevented by treaty from +borrowing in Germany. If you make a loan without security, Mr. +Heseltine-Wrigge, I suppose you understand your position. The +loan may be repudiated at any moment." + +"Kind of a philanthropist, aren't you, Baron?" Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge +remarked quietly. + +"Not in the least," Peter assured him. "I know there is some tricky +work going on and I haven't brains enough to get to the bottom of +it. That's why I've come blundering in to you, and why I suppose +you'll be telling the whole story to the Count von Hern at luncheon +in an hour's time." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge smoked in silence for a moment or two. + +"This transaction of mine," he said at last, "Isn't one I can talk +about. I guess I'm on to what you want to know, but I simply can't +tell you. The security is unusual, but it's good enough for me." + +"It seems so to you, beyond a doubt," Peter replied. "Still, you +have to do with a remarkably clever young man in the Count von Hern. +I don't want to ask you any questions you feel I ought not to, but +I do wish you'd tell me one thing." + +"Go right ahead," Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge invited. "Don't be shy." + +"What day are you concluding this affair?" + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully +and glanced at his diary. "Well, I'll risk that," he decided. +"A week to-day I hand over the coin." + +Peter drew a little breath of relief. A week was an immense time! +He rose to his feet. + +"That ends our business, then, for the present," he said. "Now I +am going to ask both of you a favor. Perhaps I have no right to, +but as a man of honor, Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge, you can take it from +me that I ask it in your interests as well as my own. Don't tell +the Count von Hern of my visit to you." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge held out his hand. + +"That's all right," he declared. "You hear, Myra?" + +"I'll be dumb, Baron," she promised. "Say, when do you think Vi +can come and see me?" + +Peter was guilty of snobbery. He considered it quite a justifiable +weapon. + +"She is at Windsor this afternoon," he remarked. + +"What, at the Garden-Party?" Mrs. Heseltine-Wrigge almost shrieked. + +Peter nodded. + +"I believe there's some fete or other to-morrow," he said, "but +we're alone this evening. Why won't you dine with us, say at the +Carlton?" + +"We'd love to," the lady assented, promptly. + +"At eight o'clock," Peter said, taking his leave. + +The dinner party was a great success. Mrs. Heseltine-Wrigge found +herself among the class of people with whom it was her earnest +desire to become acquainted, and her husband was well satisfied to +see her keen longing for society likely to be gratified. The +subject of Peter's call at the office in the city was studiously +ignored. It was not until the very end of the evening, indeed, that +the host of this very agreeable party was rewarded by a single hint. +It all came about in the most natural manner. They were speaking +of foreign capitals. + +"I love Paris," Mrs. Heseltine-Wrigge told her host. "Just adore +it. Charles is often there on business and I always go along." + +Peter smiled. There was just a chance here. + +"Your husband does not often have to leave London though," he +remarked, carelessly. + +She nodded. + +"Not often enough," she declared. "I just love getting about. Last +week we had a perfectly horrible trip, though. We started off for +Belfast quite unexpectedly, and I hated every minute of it." + +Peter smiled inwardly, but he said never a word. His companion was +already chattering on about something else. Peter crossed the hall +a few minutes later, to speak to an acquaintance, slipped out to the +telephone booth and spoke to his servant. + +"A bag and a change," he ordered, "at Euston Station at twelve +o'clock, in time for the Irish mail. Your mistress will be home +as usual." + +An hour later the dinner party broke up. Early the next morning, +Peter crossed the Irish Channel. He returned the following day +and crossed again within a few hours. In five days the affair was +finished, except for the denouement. + +Peter ascended in the lift to Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge's office the +following Thursday, calm and unruffled as usual, but nevertheless a +little exultant. It was barely half an hour since he had become +finally prepared for this interview. He was looking forward to it +now with feelings of undiluted satisfaction. Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge +was in, he was told, and he was at once admitted to his presence. +The financier greeted him with a somewhat curious smile. + +"Say, this is very nice of you to look me up again!" he exclaimed. +"Still worrying about that loan, eh?" + +Peter shook his head. + +"No, I'm not worrying about that any more," he answered, accepting +one of his host's cigars. "The fact of it is that if it were not +for me, you would be the one who would have to do the worrying." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge stopped short in the act of lighting his cigar. + +"I'm not quite on," he remarked. "What's the trouble?" + +"There is no trouble, fortunately," Peter replied. "Only a little +disappointment for our friends the Count von Hern and Major Kosuth. +I have brought you some information which I think will put an end +to that affair of the loan." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge sat quite still for a moment. He brows were +knitted, he showed no signs of nervousness. + +"Go right on," he said. + +"The security upon which you were going to advance a million and +a half to the Turkish Government," Peter continued, "consisted of +two Dreadnoughts and a cruiser, being built to the order of that +country by Messrs. Shepherd & Hargreaves at Belfast." + +"Quite right," Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge admitted, quietly. "I have +been up and seen the boats. I have seen the shipbuilders, too." + +"Did you happen to mention to the latter," Peter inquired, "that +you were advancing money upon those vessels?" + +"Certainly not," Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge replied. "Kosuth wouldn't +hear of such a thing. If the papers got wind of it, there'd be +the devil to pay. All the same, I have got an assignment from +the Turkish Government." + +"Not worth the paper it's written on," Peter declared, blandly. + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge rose unsteadily to his feet. He was a strong, +silent man, but there was a queer look about his mouth. + +"What the devil do you mean?" he demanded. + +"Briefly, this," Peter explained. "The first payment, when these +ships were laid down, was made not by Turkey but by an emissary +of the German Government, who arranged the whole affair in +Constantinople. The second payment was due ten months ago, and +not a penny has been paid. Notice was given to the late government +twice and absolutely ignored. According to the charter, therefore, +these ships reverted to the shipbuilding companies who retained +possession of the first payment as indemnity against loss. The +Count von Hern's position was this. He represents the German +Government. You were to find a million and a half of money with +the ships as security. You also have a contract from the Count +von Hern to take those ships off your hands provided the interest +on the loan became overdue, a state of affairs which I can assure +you would have happened within the next twelve months. Practically, +therefore, you were made use of as an independent financier to +provide the money with which the Turkish Government, broadly +speaking, have sold the ships to Germany. You see, according to +the charter of the shipbuilding company, these vessels cannot be +sold to any foreign government without the consent of Downing +Street. That is the reason why the affair had to be conducted in +such a roundabout manner." + +"All this is beyond me," Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge said, hoarsely. +"I don't care a d-n who has the ships in the end so long as I +get my money!" + +"But you would not get your money," Peter pointed out, "because +there will be no ships. I have had the shrewdest lawyers in the +world at work upon the charter, and there is not the slightest +doubt that these vessels are, or rather were, the entire property +of Messrs. Shepherd & Hargreaves. To-day they belong to me. I +have bought them and paid two hundred thousand pounds deposit. +I can show you the receipt and all the papers." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge, said only one word, but that word was profane. + +"I am sorry, of course, that you have lost the business," Peter +concluded, "but surely it's better than losing your money?" + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge struck the table fiercely with his fist. There +was a gray and unfamiliar look about his face. + +"D-n it, the money's gone!" he declared, hoarsely. "They changed +the day. Kosuth had to go back. I paid it twenty-four hours ago." + +Peter whistled softly. + +"If only you had trusted me a little more!" he murmured. "I tried +to warn you." + +Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge snatched up his hat. + +"They don't leave till the two-twenty," he shouted. "We'll catch +them at the Milan. If we don't, I'm ruined! By God, I'm ruined!" + +They found Major Kosuth in the hall of the hotel. He was wearing +a fur coat and was otherwise attired for traveling. His luggage +was already being piled upon a cab. Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge wasted +no words upon him. + +"You and I have got to have a talk, right here and now," he declared. +"Where's the Count?" + +Major Kosuth frowned gloomily. + +"I do not understand you," he said, shortly. "Our business is +concluded and I am leaving by the two-twenty train." + +"You are doing nothing of the sort," the American answered, +standing before him, grim and threatening. + +The Turk showed no sign of terror. He gripped his silver-headed +cane firmly. + +"I think," he said, "that there is no one here who will prevent me." + +Peter, who saw a fracas imminent, hastily intervened. "If you will +permit me for a moment," he said, "there is a little explanation I +should perhaps make to Major Kosuth." + +The Turk took a step towards the door. + +"I have no time to listen to explanations from you or any one," +he replied. "My cab is waiting. I depart. If Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge +is not satisfied with our transaction, I am sorry, but it is too +late to alter anything." + +For a moment it seemed as though a struggle between the two men was +inevitable. Already people were glancing at them curiously, for Mr. +Heseltine-Wrigge came of a primitive school, and he had no intention +whatever of letting his man escape. Fortunately, at that moment +Count von Hern came up and Peter at once appealed to him. + +"Count," he said, "may I beg for your good offices? My friend, Mr. +Heseltine-Wrigge here, is determined to have a few words with Major +Kosuth before he leaves. Surely this is not an unreasonable request +when you consider the magnitude of the transaction which has taken +place between them! Let me beg of you to persuade Major Kosuth to +give us ten minutes. There is plenty of time for the train, and +this is not the place for a brawl." + +"It will not take us long, Kosuth, to hear what our friend has to +say," he remarked. "We shall be quite quiet in the smoking-room. +Let us go in there and dispose of the affair." + +The Turk turned unwillingly in the direction indicated. All four +men passed through the cafe, up some stairs, and into the small +smoking-room. The room was deserted. Peter led the way to the far +corner, and standing with his elbow leaning upon the mantelpiece, +addressed them. + +"The position is this," he said. "Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge has parted +with a million and a half of his own money, a loan to the Turkish +Government, on security which is not worth a snap of the fingers." + +"It is a lie!" Major Kosuth exclaimed. + +"My dear Baron, you are woefully misinformed," the Count declared. + +Peter shook his head slowly. + +"No," he said, "I am not misinformed. My friend here has parted +with the money on the security of two battleships and a cruiser, +now building in Shepherd & Hargreaves' yard at Belfast. The two +battleships and cruiser in question belong to me. I have paid +two hundred thousand pounds on account of them, and hold the +shipbuilder's receipt." + +"You are mad!" Bernadine cried, contemptuously. + +Peter shook his head and continued. + +"The battleships were laid down for the Turkish Government, and +the money with which to start them was supplied by the Secret +Service of Germany. The second installment was due ten months ago +and has not been paid. The time of grace provided for has expired. +The shipbuilders, in accordance with their charter, were consequently +at liberty to dispose of the vessels as they thought fit. On the +statement of the whole of the facts to the head of the firm, he has +parted with these ships to me. I need not say that I have a +purchaser within a mile from here. It is a fancy of mine, Count von +Hern, that those ships will sail better under the British flag." + +There was a moment's tense silence. The face of the Turk was black +with anger. Bernadine was trembling with rage. + +"This is a tissue of lies!" he exclaimed. + +Peter shrugged his shoulders. + +"The facts are easy enough for you to prove," he said, "and I have +here," he added, producing a roll of papers, "copies of the various +documents for your inspection. Your scheme, of course, was simple +enough. It fell through for this one reason only. A final notice, +pressing for the second installment and stating the days of grace, +was forwarded to Constantinople about the time of the recent +political troubles. The late government ignored it. In fairness +to Major Kosuth, we will believe that the present government was +ignorant of it. But the fact remains that Messrs. Shepherd & +Hargreaves became at liberty to sell those vessels, and that I +have bought them. You will have to give up that money, Major Kosuth." + +"By God, he shall!" the American muttered. + +Bernadine leaned a little towards his enemy. + +"You must give us a minute or two," he insisted. "We shall not go +away, I promise you. Within five minutes you shall hear our decision." + +Peter sat down at the writing-table and commenced a letter. Mr. +Heseltine-Wrigge mounted guard over the door and stood there, a grim +figure of impatience. Before the five minutes was up, Bernadine +crossed the room. + +"I congratulate you, Baron," he said, dryly. "You are either an +exceedingly lucky person or you are more of a genius than I believe. +Kosuth is even now returning his letters of credit to your friend. +You are quite right. The loan cannot stand." + +"I was sure," Peter answered, "that you would see the matter +correctly." + +"You and I," Bernadine continued, "know very well that I don't care +a fig about Turkey, new or old. The ships I will admit that I +intended to have for my own country. As it is, I wish you joy of +them. Before they are completed, we may be fighting in the air." + +Peter smiled, and, side by side with Bernadine, strolled across to +Heseltine-Wrigge, who was buttoning up a pocket-book with trembling +fingers. + +"Personally," Peter said, "I believe that the days of wars are over." + +"That may or may not be," Bernadine answered. "One thing is very +certain. Even if the nations remain at peace, there are enmities +which strike only deeper as the years pass. I am going to take a +drink now with my disappointed friend Kosuth. If I raise my glass +'To the Day!' you will understand." + +Peter smiled. + +"My friend Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge and I are for the same destination," +he replied, pushing open the swing door which led to the bar. "I +return your good wishes, Count. I, too, drink 'To the Day!'" + +Bernadine and Kosuth left, a few minutes afterwards. Mr. +Heseltine-Wrigge, who was feeling himself again, watched them +depart with ill-concealed triumph. + +"Say, you had those fellows on toast, Baron," he declared, +admiringly. "I couldn't follow the whole affair, but I can see +that you're in for big things sometimes. Remember this. If money +counts at any time, I'm with you." + +Peter clasped his hand. + +"Money always counts," he said, "and friends!" + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN + + +Peter, Baron de Grost, glanced at the card which his butler had +brought in to him, carelessly at first, afterwards with that curious +rigidity of attention which usually denotes the setting free of a +flood of memories. + +"The gentleman would like to see you, sir," the man announced. + +"You can show him in at once," Peter replied. The servant withdrew. +Peter, during those few minutes of waiting, stood with his back to +the room and his face to the window, looking out across the square, +in reality seeing nothing, completely immersed in this strange +flood of memories. John Dory - Sir John Dory now - his quondam +enemy, and he, had met but seldom during these years of their +prosperity. The figure of this man, who had once loomed so largely +in his life, had gradually shrunk away into the background. Their +avoidance of each other arose, perhaps, from a sort of instinct +which was certainly no matter of ill-will. Still, the fact remained +that they had scarcely exchanged a word for years, and Peter turned +to receive his unexpected guest with a curiosity which he did not +trouble wholly to conceal. + +Sir John Dory - Chief Commissioner now of Scotland Yard, a person +of weight and importance - had changed a great deal during the last +few years. His hair had become gray, his walk more dignified. +There was the briskness, however, of his best days in his carriage +and in the flash of his brown eyes. He held out his hand to his +ancient foe with a smile. + +"My dear Baron," he said, "I hope you are going to say that you are +glad to see me." + +"Unless," Peter replied, with a good-humored grimace, "your visit +is official, I am more than glad - I am charmed. Sit down. I was +just going to take my morning cigar. You will join me? Good! Now +I am ready for the worst that can happen." + +The two men seated themselves. John Dory pulled at his cigar +appreciatively, sniffed its flavor for a moment, and then leaned +forward in his chair. + +"My visit, Baron," he announced, "is semi-official. I am here to +ask you a favor." + +"An official favor?" Peter demanded quickly. + +His visitor hesitated as though he found the question hard to answer. + +"To tell you the truth," he declared, "this call of mine is wholly +an inspiration. It does not in any way concern you personally, or +your position in this country. What that may be I do not know, +except that I am sure it is above any suspicion." + +"Quite so," Peter murmured. "How diplomatic you have become, my +dear friend!" + +John Dory smiled. + +"Perhaps I am fencing about too much," he said. "I know, of course, +that you are a member of a very powerful and wealthy French Society, +whose object and aims, so far as I know, are entirely harmless." + +"I am delighted to be assured that you recognize that fact," Peter +admitted. + +"I might add," John Dory continued, "that this harmlessness - is of +recent date." + +"Really, you do seem to know a good deal," Peter confessed. + +"I find myself still fencing," Dory declared. "A matter of habit, +I suppose. I didn't mean to when I came. I made up my mind to tell +you simply that Guillot was in London, and to ask you if you could +help me to get rid of him." + +Peter looked thoughtfully into his companion's face, but he did not +speak. He understood at such moments the value of silence. + +"We speak together," Dory continued softly, "as men who understand +one another. Guillot is the one criminal in Europe whom we all fear; +not I alone, mind you - it is the same in Berlin, in Petersburg, in +Vienna. He has never been caught. It is my honest belief that he +never will be caught. At the same time, wherever he arrives the +thunder-clouds gather. He leaves behind him always a trail of evil +deeds." + +"Very well put," Peter murmured. "Quite picturesque." + +"Can you help me to get rid of him?" Dory inquired. "I have my +hands full just now, as you can imagine, what with the political +crisis and these constant mass meetings. I want Guillot out of the +country. If you can manage this for me, I shall be your eternal +debtor." + +"Why do you imagine," Peter asked, "that I can help you in this +matter?" + +There was a brief silence. John Dory knocked the ash from his cigar. + +"Times have changed," he said. "The harmlessness of your great +Society, my dear Baron, is at present admitted. But there were +days - " + +"Exactly," Peter interrupted. "As shrewd as ever, I perceive. Do +you know anything of the object of his coming?" + +"Nothing." + +"Anything of his plans?" + +"Nothing." + +"You know where he is staying?" + +"Naturally," Dory answered. "He has taken a second-floor flat in +Crayshaw Mansions, Shaftesbury Avenue. As usual, he is above all +petty artifices. He has taken it under the name of Monsieur Guillot." + +"I really don't know whether there is anything I can do," Peter +decided, "but I will look into the matter for you, with pleasure. +Perhaps I may be able to bring a little influence to bear - +indirectly, of course. If so, it is at your service. Lady Dory +is well, I trust?" + +"In the best of health," Sir John replied, accepting the hint and +rising to his feet. "I shall hear from you soon?" + +"Without a doubt," Peter answered. "I must certainly call upon +Monsieur Guillot." + +Peter certainly wasted no time in paying his promised visit. That +same afternoon he rang the bell at the flat in Crayshaw Mansions. +A typical French butler showed him into the room where the great +man sat. Monsieur Guillot, slight, elegant, pre-eminently a dandy, +was lounging upon a sofa, being manicured by a young lady. He +threw down his Petit Journal and rose to his feet, however, at his +visitor's entrance. + +"My dear Baron," he exclaimed, "but this is charming of you! +Mademoiselle," he added, turning to the manicurist, "you will do me +the favor of retiring for a short time. Permit me." + +He opened the door and showed her out. Then he came back to Peter. + +"A visit of courtesy, Monsieur le Baron?" he asked. + +"Without a doubt," Peter replied. + +"It is beyond all measure charming of you," Guillot declared, "but +let me ask you a little question. Is it peace or war?" + +"It is what you choose to make it," Peter answered. + +The man threw out his hands. There was the shadow of a frown upon +his pale forehead. It was a matter for protest, this. + +"Why do you come?" he demanded. "What have we in common? The +Society has expelled me. Very well, I go my own way. Why not? I +am free of your control to-day. You have no more right to interfere +with my schemes than I with yours." + +"We have the ancient right of power," Peter said, grimly. "You +were once a prominent member of our organization, the spoilt protege +of Madame, a splendid maker, if you will, of criminal history. +Those days have passed. We offered you a pension which you have +refused. It is now our turn to speak. We require you to leave +this city in twenty-four hours." + +The face was livid with anger. He was of the fair type of Frenchman, +with deep-set eyes, and a straight, cruel mouth only partly concealed +by his golden mustache. Just now, notwithstanding the veneer of his +too perfect clothes and civilized air, the beast had leaped out. His +face was like the face of a snarling animal. + +"I refuse!" he cried. "It is I who refuse! I am here on my own +affairs. What they may be is no business of yours or of any one +else's. That is my answer to you, Baron de Grost, whether you come +to me for yourself or on behalf of the Society to which I no longer +belong. That is my answer - that and the door," he added, pressing +the bell. "If you will, we fight. If you are wise, forget this +visit as quickly as you can." + +Peter took up his hat. The man-servant was already in the room. + +"We shall probably meet again before your return, Monsieur Guillot," +he remarked. + +Guillot had recovered himself. His smile was wicked, but his bow +perfection. + +"To the fortunate hour, Monsieur le Baron!" he replied. + +Peter drove hack to Berkeley Square, and without a moment's +hesitation pressed the levers which set to work the whole +underground machinery of the great power which he controlled. +Thenceforward, Monsieur Guillot was surrounded with a vague army +of silent watchers. They passed in and out of his fiat, their +motor cars were as fast as his in the streets, their fancy in +restaurants identical with his. Guillot moved through it all +like a man wholly unconscious of espionage, showing nothing of +the murderous anger which burned in his blood. The reports came +to Peter every hour, although there was, indeed, nothing worth +chronicling. Monsieur Guillot's visit to London would seem, +indeed, to be a visit of gallantry. He spent most of his time +with Mademoiselle Louise, the famous dancer. He was prominent +at the Empire, to watch her nightly performance, they were a +noticeable couple supping together at the Milan afterwards. +Monsieur Guillot was indeed a man of gallantry, but he had the +reputation of using these affairs to cloak his real purposes. +Those who watched him, watched only the more closely. Monsieur +Guillot, who stood it very well at first, unfortunately lost +his temper. He drove in the great motor car which he had brought +with him from Paris, to Berkeley Square, and confronted Peter. + +"My friend," he exclaimed, though indeed the glitter in his eyes +knew nothing of friendship, "it is intolerable, this! Do you think +that I do not see through these dummy waiters, these obsequious +shopmen, these ladies who drop their eyes when I pass, these +commissionaires, these would-be acquaintances? I tell you that +they irritate me, this incompetent, futile crowd. You pit them +against me! Bah! You should know better. When I choose to +disappear, I shall disappear, and no one will follow me. When I +strike, I shall strike, and no one will discover what my will may +be. You are out of date, dear Baron, with your third-rate army of +stupid spies. You succeed in one thing only - you succeed in +making me angry." + +"It is at least an achievement, that," Peter declared. + +"Perhaps," Monsieur Guillot admitted, fiercely. "Yet mark now +the result. I defy you, you and all of them. Look at your clock. +It is five minutes to seven. It goes well, that clock, eh?" + +"It is the correct time," Peter said. + +"Then by midnight," Guillot continued, shaking his fist in the +other's face, "I shall have done that thing which brought me to +England and I shall have disappeared. I shall have done it in +spite of your watchers, in spite of your spies, in spite, even, +of you, Monsieur le Baron de Grost. There is my challenge. +Voila. Take it up if you will. At midnight you shall hear me +laugh. I have the honor to wish you good-night!" + +Peter opened the door with his own hands. + +"This is excellent," he declared. "You are now, indeed, the +Monsieur Guillot of old. Almost you persuade me to take up your +challenge." + +Guillot laughed derisively. + +"As you please!" he exclaimed. "By midnight tonight!" + +The challenge of Monsieur Guillot was issued precisely at four +minutes before seven. On his departure, Peter spent the next +half-hour studying certain notes and sending various telephone +messages. Afterwards, he changed his clothes at the usual time +and sat down to a tete-a-tete dinner with his wife. Three times +during the course of the meal he was summoned to the telephone, +and from each call he returned more perplexed. Finally, when the +servants had left the room, he took his chair around to his +wife's side. + +"Violet," he said, "you were asking me just now about the telephone. +You were quite right. These were not ordinary messages which I have +been receiving. I am engaged in a little matter which, I must +confess, perplexes me. I want your advice, perhaps your help." + +"I am quite ready," she answered, smiling. "It is a long time since +you gave me anything to do." + +"You have heard of Guillot?" + +She reflected for a moment. + +"You mean the wonderful Frenchman," she asked, "the head of the +criminal department of the Double-Four?" + +"The man who was at its head when it existed. The criminal +department, as you know, has all been done away with. The +Double-Four has now no more concern with those who break the law, +save in those few instances where great issues demand it." + +"But Monsieur Guillot still exists?" + +"He not only exists," answered Peter, "but he is here in London, a +rebel and a defiant one. Do you know who came to see me the other +morning?" + + She shook her head. + +"Sir John Dory," Peter continued. "He came here with a request. +He begged for my help. Guillot is here, committed to some +enterprise which no one can wholly fathom. Dory has enough to do +with other things, as you can imagine, just now. Besides, I +think he recognizes that Monsieur Guillot is rather a hard nut +for the ordinary English detective to crack." + +"And you?" she demanded, breathlessly. + +"I join forces with Dory," Peter admitted. "Sogrange agrees with +me. Guillot was associated with the Double-Four too long for us +to have him make scandalous history either here or in Paris." + +"You have seen him?" + +"I have not only seen him, but declared war against him." + +"And he?" + +"Guillot is defiant," Peter replied. "He has been here only this +evening. He mocks at me. He swears that he will bring off this +enterprise, whatever it may be, before midnight to-night, and he +has defied me to stop him." + +"But you will," she murmured, softly. + +Peter smiled. The conviction in his wife's tone was a subtle +compliment which he did not fail to appreciate. + +"I have hopes," he confessed, "and yet, let me tell you this, Violet. +I have never been more puzzled. Ask yourself, now. What enterprise +is there worthy of a man like Guillot, in which he could engage +himself here in London between now and midnight? Any ordinary theft +is beneath him. The purloining of the crown jewels, perhaps, he +might consider, but I don't think that anything less in the way of +robbery would bring him here. He has his code and he is as vain as +a peacock. Yet money is at the root of everything he does." + +"How does he spend his time here?" Violet asked. + +"He has a handsome flat in Shaftesbury Avenue," Peter answered, +"where he lives, to all appearance, the life of an idle man of +fashion. The whole of his spare time is spent with Mademoiselle +Louise, the danseuse at the Empire. You see, it is half-past eight +now. I have eleven men altogether at work, and according to my +last report he was dining with her in the grill-room at the Milan. +They have just ordered their coffee ten minutes ago, and the car +is waiting outside to take Mademoiselle to the Empire. Guillot's +box is engaged there, as usual. If he proposes to occupy it, he +is leaving himself a very narrow margin of time to carry out any +enterprise worth speaking of." + +Violet was thoughtful for several moments. Then she crossed the +room, took up a copy of an illustrated paper, and brought it across +to Peter. He smiled as he glanced at the picture to which she +pointed, and the few lines underneath. + +"It has struck you, too, then!" he exclaimed. "Good! You have +answered me exactly as I hoped. Somehow, I scarcely trusted myself. +I have both cars waiting outside. We may need them. You won't +mind coming to the Empire with me?" + +"Mind!" she laughed. "I only hope I may be in at the finish." + +"If the finish," Peter remarked, "is of the nature which I +anticipate, I shall take particularly good care that you are not." + +The curtain was rising upon the first act of the ballet as they +entered the most popular music-hall in London and were shown to +the box which Peter had engaged. The house was full - crowded, in +fact, almost to excess. They had scarcely taken their seats when +a roar of applause announced the coming of Mademoiselle Louise. +She stood for a moment to receive her nightly ovation, a slim, +beautiful creature, looking out upon the great house with that +faint, bewitching smile at the corners of her lips, which every +photographer in Europe had striven to reproduce. Then she moved +away to the music, an exquisite figure, the personification of all +that was alluring in her sex. Violet leaned forward to watch her +movements as she plunged into the first dance. Peter was occupied +looking around the house. Monsieur Guillot was there, sitting +insolently forward in his box, sleek and immaculate. He even waved +his hand and bowed as he met Peter's eye. Somehow or other, his +confidence had its effect. Peter began to feel vaguely troubled. +After all, his plans were built upon a surmise. It was so easy for +him to be wrong. No man would show his hand so openly, unless he +were sure of the game. Then his face cleared a little. In the box +adjoining Guillot's, the figure of a solitary man was just visible, +a man who had leaned over to applaud Louise, but who was now +sitting back in the shadows. Peter recognized him at once, +notwithstanding the obscurity. This was so much to the good, at +any rate. He took up his hat. + +"For a quarter of an hour you will excuse me, Violet," he said. +"Watch Guillot. If he leaves his place, knock at the door of your +own box, and one of my men, who is outside, will come to you at +once. He will know where to find me." + +Peter hurried away, pausing for a moment in the promenade, to +scribble a line or two at the back of one of his own cards. +Presently he knocked at the door of the box adjoining Guillot's +and was instantly admitted. Violet continued her watch. She +remained alone until the curtain fell upon the first act of the +ballet. A few minutes later, Peter returned. She knew at once +that things were going well. He sank into a chair by her side. + +"I have messages every five minutes," he whispered in her ear, +"and I am venturing upon a bold stroke. There is still something +about the affair, though, which I cannot understand. You are +absolutely sure that Guillot has not moved?" + +Violet pointed with her program across the house. "There he sits," +she remarked. "He left his chair as the curtain went down, but he +could scarcely have gone out of the box, for he was back within +ten seconds." + +Peter looked steadily across at the opposite box. Guillot was +sitting a little further back now, as though he no longer courted +observation. Something about his attitude puzzled the man who +watched him. With a sudden quick movement he caught up the +glasses which stood by his wife's side. The curtain was going up +for the second act, and Guillot had turned his head. Peter held +the glasses only for a moment to his eyes, and then glanced +down at the stage. + +"My God!" he muttered. "The man's a genius! Violet, the small +motor is coming for you." + +He was out of the box in a single step. Violet looked after him, +looked down upon the stage and across at Guillot's box. It was +hard to understand. + +The curtain had scarcely rung up upon the second act of the ballet +when a young lady who met from all the loungers, and even from the +doorkeeper himself, the most respectful attention, issued from the +stage-door at the Empire and stepped into the large motor car which +was waiting, drawn up against the curb. The door was opened from +inside and closed at once. She held out her hands, as yet ungloved, +to the man who sat back in the corner. + +"At last!" she murmured. "And I thought, indeed, that you had +forsaken me." + +He took her hands and held them tightly, but he answered only in a +whisper. He wore a sombre black cloak and a broad-brimmed black hat. +A muffler concealed the lower part of his face. She put her finger +upon the electric light, but he stopped her. + +"I must not be recognized," he said thickly. "Forgive me, Louise, +if I seem strange at first, but there is more in it than I can tell +you. No one must know that I am in London to-night. When we reach +this place to which you are taking me, and we are really alone, then +we can talk. I have so much to say." + +She looked at him doubtfully. It was indeed a moment of indecision +with her. Then she began to laugh softly. + +"Dear one, but you have changed!" she exclaimed, compassionately. +"After all, why not? I must not forget that things have gone so +hardly with you. It seems odd, indeed, to see you sitting there, +muffled up like an old man, afraid to show yourself. You know how +foolish you are? With your black cape and that queer hat, you are +so different from all the others. If you seek to remain unrecognized, +why do you not dress as all the men do? Any one who was suspicious +would recognize you from your clothes." + +"It is true," he muttered. "I did not think of it." + +She leaned towards him. + +"You will not even kiss me?" she murmured. + +"Not yet," he answered. + +She made a little grimace. + +"But you are cold!" + +"You do not understand," he answered. "They are watching me - even +to-night they are watching me. Oh, if you only knew, Louise, how I +have longed for this hour that is to come!" + +Her vanity was assuaged. She patted his hand but came no nearer. + +"You are a foolish man," she said, "very foolish." + +"It is not for you to say that," he replied. "If I have been +foolish, were not you often the cause of my folly?" Again she +laughed. + +"Oh, la, la! It is always the same! It is always you men who +accuse! For that presently I shall reprove you. But now - as +for now, behold, we have arrived!" + +"It is a crowded thoroughfare," the man remarked, nervously, looking +up and down Shaftesbury Avenue. + +"Stupid!" she cried, stepping out. "I do not recognize you +to-night, little one. Even your voice is different. Follow me +quickly across the pavement and up the stairs. There is only one +flight. The flat I have borrowed is on the second floor. I do +not care very much that people should recognize me either, under +the circumstances. There is nothing they love so much," she added, +with a toss of the head, "as finding an excuse to have my picture +in the paper." + +He followed her down the dim hall and up the broad, flat stairs, +keeping always some distance behind. On the first landing she drew +a key from her pocket and opened a door. It was the door of +Monsieur Guillot's sitting-room. A round table in the middle was +laid for supper. One light alone, and that heavily shaded, was burning. + +"Oh, la, la!" she exclaimed. "How I hate this darkness! Wait till I +can turn on the lights, dear friend, and then you must embrace me. +It is from outside, I believe. No, do not follow. I can find the +switch for myself. Remain where you are. I return instantly." + +She left him alone in the room, closing the door softly. In the +passage she reeled for a moment and caught at her side. She was +very pale. Guillot, coming swiftly up the steps, frowned as he +saw her. + +"He is there?" he demanded, harshly. + +"He is there," Louise replied, "but, indeed, I am angry with myself. +See, I am faint. It is a terrible thing, this, which I have done. +He did me no harm, that young man, except that he was stupid and +heavy, and that I never loved him. Who could love him, indeed! +But, Guillot - " + +He passed on, scarcely heeding her words, but she clung to his arm. + +"Dear one," she begged, "promise that you will not really hurt him. +Promise me that, or I will shriek out and call the people from the +streets here. You would not make an assassin of me? Promise!" + +Guillot turned suddenly towards her and there were strange things +in his face. He pointed down the stairs. + +"Go back, Louise," he ordered, "back to your rooms, for your own +sake. Remember that you have left the theatre too ill to finish +your performance. You have had plenty of time already to get home. +Quick! Leave me to deal with this young man. I tell you to go." + +She retreated down the stairs, dumb, her knees shaking with fear. +Guillot entered the room, closing the door behind him. Even as he +bowed to that dark figure standing in the corner, his left hand +shot forward the bolt. + +"Monsieur," he said - + +"What is the meaning of this?" the visitor interrupted, haughtily. +"I am expecting Mademoiselle Louise. I did not understand that +strangers had the right of entry into this room." + +Guillot bowed low. + +"Monsieur," he said once more, "it is a matter for my eternal +regret that I am forced to intrude even for a moment upon an +assignation so romantic. But there is a little matter which +must first be settled. I have some friends here who have a +thing to say to you." + +He walked softly, with catlike tread, along by the wall to where +the thick curtains shut out the inner apartment. He caught at +the thick velvet, dragged it back, and the two rooms were suddenly +flooded with light. In the recently discovered one, two +stalwart-looking men in plain clothes, but of very unmistakable +appearance, were standing waiting. Guillot staggered back. They +were strangers to him. He was like a man who looks upon a nightmare. +His eyes protruded. The words which he tried to utter, failed him. +Then, with a swift, nervous presentiment, he turned quickly around +towards the man who had been standing in the shadows. Here, too, +the unexpected had happened. It was Peter, Baron de Grost, who +threw his muffler and broad-brimmed hat upon the table. + +"Five minutes to eleven, I believe, Monsieur Guillot," Peter declared. +"I win by an hour and five minutes." + +Guillot said nothing for several seconds. After all, though, he +had great gifts. He recovered alike his power of speech and his +composure. + +"These gentlemen," he said, pointing with his left hand towards the +inner room - "I do not understand their presence in my apartments." + +Peter shrugged his shoulders. + +"They represent, I am afraid, the obvious end of things," he +explained. "You have given me a run for my money, I confess. A +Monsieur Guillot who is remarkably like you, still occupies your +box at the Empire, and Mademoiselle Jeanne Lemere, the accomplished +understudy of the lady who has just left us, is sufficiently like +the incomparable Louise to escape, perhaps, detection for the +first few minutes. But you gave the game away a little, my dear +Guillot, when you allowed your quarry to come and gaze even from +the shadows of his box at the woman he adored." + +"Where is - he?" Guillot faltered. + +"He is on his way back to his country home," Peter replied. "I +think that he will be cured of his infatuation for Mademoiselle. +The assassins whom you planted in that room are by this time in +Bow Street. The price which others beside you knew, my dear +Guillot, was placed upon that unfortunate young head, will not +pass this time into your pocket. For the rest - " + +"The rest is of no consequence," Guillot interrupted, bowing. "I +admit that I am vanquished. As for those gentlemen there," he +added, waving his hand towards the two men who had taken a step +forward, "I have a little oath which is sacred to me concerning +them. I take the liberty, therefore, to admit myself defeated, +Monsieur le Baron, and to take my leave." + +No one was quick enough to interfere. They had only a glimpse of +him as he stood there with the revolver pressed to his temple, an +impression of a sharp report, of Guillot staggering back as the +revolver slipped from his fingers on to the floor. Even his death +cry was stifled. They carried him away without any fuss, and Peter +was just in time, after all, to see the finish of the second act of +the ballet. The sham Monsieur Guillot still smirked at the sham +Louise, but the box by his side was empty. + +"It is over?" Violet asked, breathlessly. + +"It is over," Peter answered. + +It was, after all, an unrecorded tragedy. In an obscure corner of +the morning papers one learned the next day that a Frenchman, who +had apparently come to the end of his means, had committed suicide +in a furnished flat of Shaftesbury Avenue. Two foreigners were +deported without having been brought up for trial, for being +suspected persons. A little languid interest was aroused at the +inquest when one of the witnesses deposed to the deceased's having +been a famous French criminal. Nothing further transpired, however, +and the readers of the halfpenny press for once were deprived of +their sensation. For the rest, Peter received, with much +satisfaction, a remarkably handsome signet ring, bearing some +famous arms, and a telegram from Sogrange: "Well done, Baron! May +the successful termination of your enterprise nerve you for the +greater undertaking which is close at hand. I leave for London by +the night train. Sogrange." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE GHOSTS OF HAVANA HARBOR + + +"We may now," Sogrange remarked, buttoning up his ulster, and +stretching himself out to the full extent of his steamer chair, +"consider ourselves at sea. I trust, my friend, that you are +feeling quite comfortable." + +Peter, lying at his ease upon a neighboring chair, with a pillow +behind his head, a huge fur coat around his body, and a rug over +his feet, had all the appearance of being very comfortable indeed. +His reply, however, was a little short - almost peevish. + +"I am comfortable enough for the present, thank you. Heaven knows +how long it will last!" + +Sogrange waved his arms towards the great uneasy plain of blue sea, +the showers of foam leaping into the sunlight, away beyond the +disappearing coast of France. + +"Last!" he repeated. "For eight days, I hope. Consider, my dear +Baron! What could be more refreshing, more stimulating to our +jaded nerves than this? Think of the December fogs you have left +behind, the cold, driving rain, the puddles in the street, the +gray skies - London, in short, at her ugliest and worst." + +"That is all very well," Peter protested, "but I have left several +other things behind, too." + +"As, for instance?" Sogrange inquired, genially. + +"My wife," Peter informed him. "Violet objects very much to these +abrupt separations. This week, too, I was shooting at Saxthorpe, +and I had also several other engagements of a pleasant nature. +Besides, I have reached that age when I find it disconcerting to +be called out of bed in the middle of the night to answer a long +distance telephone call, and told to embark on a White Star liner +leaving Liverpool early the next morning. It may be your idea of +a pleasure trip. It isn't mine." + +Sogrange was amused. His smile, however, was hidden. Only the tip +of his cigarette was visible. + +"Anything else?" + +"Nothing much, except that I am always seasick," Peter replied +deliberately. "I can feel it coming on now. I wish that fellow +would keep away with his beastly mutton broth. The whole ship +seems to smell of it." + +Sogrange laughed, softly but without disguise. + +"Who said anything about a pleasure trip?" he demanded. + +Peter turned his head. + +"You did. You told me when you came on at Cherbourg that you had +to go to New York to look after some property there, that things +were very quiet in London, and that you hated traveling alone. +Therefore, you sent for me at a few hours' notice." + +"Is that what I told you?" Sogrange murmured. + +"Yes! Wasn't it true?" Peter asked, suddenly alert. + +"Not a word of it," Sogrange admitted. "It is quite amazing that +you should have believed it for a moment." + +"I was a fool," Peter confessed. "You see, I was tired and a +little cross. Besides, somehow or other, I never associated a +trip to America with - " + +Sogrange interrupted him quietly, but ruthlessly. + +"Lift up the label attached to the chair next to yours. Read it +out to me." + +Peter took it into his hand and turned it over. A quick +exclamation escaped him. + +"Great Heavens! The Count von Hern - Bernadine!" + +"Just so," Sogrange assented. "Nice clear writing, isn't it?" + +Peter sat bolt upright in his chair. + +"Do you mean to say that Bernadine is on board?" Sogrange shook +his head. + +"By the exercise, my dear Baron," he said, "of a superlative +amount of ingenuity, I was able to prevent that misfortune. Now +lean over and read the label on the next chair." + +Peter obeyed. His manner had acquired a new briskness. "La +Duchesse della Nermino," he announced. + +Sogrange nodded. + +"Everything just as it should be," he declared. "Change those +labels, my friend, as quickly as you can." + +Peter's fingers were nimble and the thing was done in a few +seconds. + +"So I am to sit next the Spanish lady," he remarked, feeling for +his tie. + +"Not only that, but you are to make friends with her," Sogrange +replied. "You are to be your captivating self, Baron. The Duchesse +is to forget her weakness for hot rooms. She is to develop a taste +for sea air and your society." + +"Is she," Peter asked, anxiously, "old or young?" + +Sogrange showed a disposition to fence with the question. "Not +old," he answered; "certainly not old. Fifteen years ago she was +considered to be one of the most beautiful women in the world." + +"The ladies of Spain," Peter remarked, with a sigh, "are inclined +to mature early." + +"In some cases," Sogrange assured him, "there are no women in the +world who preserve their good looks longer. You shall judge, my +friend. Madame comes! How about that sea-sickness now?" + +"Gone," Peter declared, briskly. "Absolutely a fancy of mine. +Never felt better in my life." + +An imposing little procession approached along the deck. There was +the deck steward leading the way; a very smart French maid carrying +a wonderful collection of wraps, cushions and books; a black-browed, +pallid man-servant, holding a hot water bottle in his hand, and +leading a tiny Pekinese spaniel, wrapped in a sealskin coat; and +finally Madame la Duchesse. It was so obviously a procession +intended to impress, that neither Peter nor Sogrange thought it +worth while to conceal their interest. + +The Duchesse, save that she was tall and wrapped in magnificent furs, +presented a somewhat mysterious appearance. Her features were +entirely obscured by an unusually thick veil of black lace, and the +voluminous nature of her outer garments only permitted a suspicion +as to her figure, which was, at that time, at once the despair and +the triumph of her corsetiere. With both hands she was holding her +fur-lined skirts from contact with the deck, disclosing at the same +time remarkably shapely feet encased in trim patent shoes with plain +silver buckles, and a little more black silk stocking than seemed +absolutely necessary. The deck steward, after a half-puzzled +scrutiny of the labels, let down the chair next to the two men. The +Duchesse contemplated her prospective neighbors with some curiosity, +mingled with a certain amount of hesitation. It was at that moment +that Sogrange, shaking away his rug, rose to his feet. + +"Madame la Duchesse permits me to remind her of my existence?" he +said, bowing low. "It is some years since we met, but I had the +honor of a dance at the Palace in Madrid." + +She held out her hand at once, yet somehow Peter felt sure that she +was thankful for her veil. Her voice was pleasant, and her air the +air of a great lady. She spoke French with the soft, sibilant +intonation of the Spaniard. + +"I remember the occasion perfectly, Marquis," she admitted. "Your +sister and I once shared a villa in Mentone." + +"I am flattered by your recollection, Duchesse," Sogrange murmured. + +"It is a great surprise to meet with you here, though," she +continued. "I did not see you at Cherbourg or on the train." + +"I motored from Paris," Sogrange explained, "and arrived, contrary +to my custom, I must confess, somewhat early. Will you permit that +I introduce an acquaintance, whom I have been fortunate enough to +find on board - Monsieur le Baron de Grost - Madame la Duchesse +della Nermino." + +Peter was graciously received and the conversation dealt, for a few +moments, with the usual banalities of the voyage. Then followed +the business of settling the Duchesse in her place. When she was +really installed, and surrounded with all the paraphernalia of a +great and fanciful lady, including a handful of long cigarettes, +she raised for the first time her veil. Peter, who was at the +moment engaged in conversation with her, was a little shocked by +the result. Her features were worn, her face dead-white, with +many signs of the ravages wrought by the constant use of cosmetics. +Only her eyes had retained something of their former splendor. These +latter were almost violet in color, deep-set, with dark rims, and +were sufficient almost in themselves to make one forget for a moment +the less prepossessing details of her appearance. A small library +of books was by her side, but after a while she no longer pretended +any interest in them. She was a born conversationalist, a creature +of her country entirely and absolutely feminine, to whom the subtle +and flattering deference of the other sex was the breath of life +itself. Peter burned his homage upon her altar with a craft which +amounted to genius. In less than half an hour, Madame la Duchesse +was looking many years younger. The vague look of apprehension +had passed from her face. Their voices had sunk to a confidential +undertone, punctuated often by the music of her laughter. Sogrange, +with a murmured word of apology, had slipped away long ago. +Decidedly, for an Englishman, Peter was something of a marvel! + +Madame la Duchesse moved her head towards the empty chair. + +"He is a great friend of yours - the Marquis de Sogrange?" she asked, +with a certain inflection in her tone which Peter was not slow to +notice. + +"Indeed no!" he answered. "A few years ago I was frequently in +Paris. I made his acquaintance then, but we have met very seldom +since." + +"You are not traveling together, then?" + +"By no means. I recognized him only as he boarded the steamer at +Cherbourg." + +"He is not a popular man in our world," she remarked. "One speaks +of him as a schemer." + +"Is there anything left to scheme for in France?" Peter asked, +carelessly. "He is, perhaps, a monarchist?" + +"His ancestry alone would compel a devoted allegiance to royalism," +the Duchesse declared, "but I do not think that he is interested +in any of these futile plots to reinstate the House of Orleans. +I, Monsieur le Baron, am Spanish." + +"I have scarcely lived so far out of the world as to have heard +nothing of the Duchesse della Nermino," Peter replied with +empressement. "The last time I saw you, Duchesse, you were in the +suite of the Infanta." + +"Like all Englishmen, I see you possess a memory," she said, smiling. + +"Duchesse," Peter answered, lowering his voice, "without the memories +which one is fortunate enough to collect as one passes along, life +would be a dreary place. The most beautiful things in the world +cannot remain always with us. It is well, then, that the shadow of +them can be recalled to us in the shape of dreams." + +Her eyes rewarded him for his gallantry. Peter felt that he was +doing very well indeed. He indulged himself in a brief silence. +Presently she returned to the subject of Sogrange. + +"I think," she remarked, "that of all the men in the world I expected +least to see the Marquis de Sogrange on board a steamer bound for New +York. What can a man of his type find to amuse him in the New World?" + +"One wonders, indeed," Peter assented. "As a matter of fact, I did +read in a newspaper a few days ago that he was going to Mexico in +connection with some excavations there. He spoke to me of it just +now. They seem to have discovered a ruined temple of the Incas, or +something of the sort." + +The Duchesse breathed what sounded very much like a sigh of relief. + +"I had forgotten," she admitted, "that New York itself need not +necessarily be his destination." + +"For my own part," Peter continued, "it is quite amazing, the +interest which the evening papers always take in the movements of +one connected ever so slightly with their world. I think that a +dozen newspapers have told their readers the exact amount of money +I am going to lend or borrow in New York, the stocks I am going +to bull or bear, the mines I am going to purchase. My presence on +an American steamer is accounted for by the journalists a dozen +times over. Yours, Duchesse, if one might say so without appearing +over curious, seems the most inexplicable. What attraction can +America possibly have for you?" + +She glanced at him covertly from under her sleepy eyelids. Peter's +face was like the face of a child. + +"You do not, perhaps, know," she said, "that I was born in Cuba. +I lived there, in fact, for many years. I still have estates in +the country." + +"Indeed?" he answered. "Are you interested, then, in this reported +salvage of the Maine?" + +There was a short silence. Peter, who had not been looking at her +when he had asked his question, turned his head, surprised at her +lack of response. His heart gave a little jump. The Duchesse had +all the appearance of a woman on the point of fainting. One hand +was holding a scent bottle to her nose; the other, thin and white, +ablaze with emeralds and diamonds, was gripping the side of her +chair. Her expression was one of blank terror. Peter felt a shiver +chill his own blood at the things he saw in her face. He himself +was confused, apologetic, yet absolutely without understanding. His +thoughts reverted at first to his own commonplace malady. + +"You are ill, Duchesse!" he exclaimed. "You will allow me to call +the deck steward? Or perhaps you would prefer your own maid? I +have some brandy in this flask." + +He had thrown off his rug, but her imperious gesture kept him seated. +She was looking at him with an intentness which was almost tragical. + +"What made you ask me that question?" she demanded. + +His innocence was entirely apparent. Not even Peter could have +dissembled so naturally. + +"That question?" he repeated, vaguely. "You mean about the Maine? +It was the idlest chance, Duchesse, I assure you. I saw something +about it in the paper yesterday and it seemed interesting. But if +I had had the slightest idea that the subject was distasteful to +you, I would not have dreamed of mentioning it. Even now - I do not +understand - " + +She interrupted him. All the time he had been speaking she had +shown signs of recovery. She was smiling now, faintly and with +obvious effort, but still smiling. + +"It is altogether my own fault, Baron," she admitted, graciously. +"Please forgive my little fit of emotion. The subject is a very +sore one among my countrypeople, and your sudden mention of it +upset me. It was very foolish." + +"Duchesse, I was a clumsy idiot!" Peter declared, penitently. "I +deserve that you should be unkind to me for the rest of the voyage." + +"I could not afford that," she answered, forcing another smile. "I +am relying too much upon you for companionship. Ah! could I trouble +you?" she added. "For the moment I need my maid. She passes there." + +Peter sprang up and called the young woman, who was slowly pacing +the deck. He himself did not at once return to his place. He went +instead in search of Sogrange, and found him in his stateroom. +Sogrange was lying upon a couch, in a silk smoking suit, with a +French novel in his hand and an air of contentment which was almost +fatuous. He laid down the volume at Peter's entrance. + +"Dear Baron," he murmured, "why this haste! No one is ever in a +hurry upon a steamer. Remember that we can't possibly get anywhere +in less than eight days, and there is no task in the world, nowadays, +which cannot be accomplished in that time. To hurry is a needless +waste of tissue, and, to a person of my nervous temperament, +exceedingly unpleasant." + +Peter sat down on the edge of the bunk. + +"I presume you have quite finished?" he said. "If so, listen to me. +I am moving in the dark. Is it my fault that I blunder? By the +merest accident I have already committed a hideous faux pas. You +ought to have warned me." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have spoken to the Duchesse of the Maine disaster." + +The eyes of Sogrange gleamed for a moment, but he lay perfectly +still. + +"Why not?" he asked. "A good many people are talking about it. +It is one of the strangest things I have ever heard of, that after +all these years they should be trying to salve the wreck." + +"It seems worse than strange," Peter declared. "What can be the +use of trying to stir up bitter feelings between two nations who +have fought their battles and buried the hatchet? I call it an +act of insanity." + +A bugle rang. Sogrange yawned and sat up. + +"Would you mind touching the bell for my servant, Baron," he asked. +"Dinner will be served in half an hour. Afterwards, we will talk, +you and I." + +Peter turned away, not wholly pleased. + +"The sooner, the better," he grumbled, "or I shall be putting my +foot into it again." . . . + +After dinner, the two men walked on deck together. The night was +dark but fine, with a strong wind blowing from the northwest. The +deck steward called their attention to a long line of lights, +stealing up from the horizon on their starboard side. + +"That's the Lusitania, sir. She'll be up to us in half an hour." + +They leaned over the rail. Soon the blue fires began to play about +their mast head. Sogrange watched them thoughtfully. + +"If one could only read those messages," he remarked, with a sigh, +"it might help us." + +Peter knocked the ash from his cigar and was silent for a time. +He was beginning to understand the situation. + +"My friend," he said at last, "I have been doing you an injustice. + I have come to the conclusion that you are not keeping me in +ignorance of the vital facts connected with our visit to America, +willfully. At the present moment you know just a little more, but +a very little more than I do." + +"What perception!" Sogrange murmured. "My dear Baron, sometimes +you amaze me. You are absolutely right. I have some pieces and I +am convinced that they would form a puzzle the solution of which +would be interesting to us, but how or where they fit in, I frankly +don't know. You have the facts so far." + +"Certainly," Peter replied. + +"You have heard of Sirdeller?" + +"You mean the Sirdeller?" Peter asked. + +"Naturally. I mean the man whose very movements sway the money +markets of the world, the man who could, if he chose, ruin any +nation, make war impossible; who could if he had ten more years +of life and was allowed to live, draw to himself and his own +following the entire wealth of the universe." + +"Very eloquent," Peter remarked. "We'll take the rest for granted." + +"Then," Sogrange continued, "you have probably also heard of Don +Pedro, Prince of Marsine, one time Pretender to the Throne of Spain?" + +"Quite a striking figure in European politics," Peter assented, +quickly. "He is suspected of radical proclivities, and is still, +it is rumored, an active plotter against the existing monarchy." + +"Very well," Sogrange said. "Now listen carefully. Four months ago, +Sirdeller was living at the Golden Villa, near Nice. He was visited +more than once by Marsine, introduced by the Count von Hern. The +result of those visits was a long series of cablegrams to certain +great engineering firms in America. Almost immediately, the salvage +of the Maine was started. It is a matter of common report that the +entire cost of these works is being undertaken by Sirdeller." + +"Now," Peter murmured, "you are really beginning to interest me." + +"This week," Sogrange went on, "it is expected that the result of the +salvage works will be made known. That is to say, it is highly +possible that the question of whether the Maine was blown up from +outside or inside, will be settled once and for all. This week, mind, +Baron. Now see what happens. Sirdeller returns to America. The +Count von Hern and Prince Marsine come to America. The Duchesse +della Nermino comes to America. The Duchesse, Sirdeller and Marsine +are upon this steamer. The Count von Hern travels by the Lusitania +only because it was reported that Sirdeller at the last minute +changed his mind and was traveling by that boat. Mix these things +up in your brain - the conjurer's hat, let us call it," Sogrange +concluded, laying his hand upon Peter's arm, "Sirdeller, the Duchesse, +Von Hern, Marsine, the raising of the Maine - mix them up and what +sort of an omelette appears?" + +Peter whistled softly. + +"No wonder," he said, "that you couldn't make the pieces of the +puzzle fit. Tell me more about the Duchesse?" + +Sogrange considered for a moment. + +"The principal thing about her which links her with the present +situation," he explained, "is that she was living in Cuba at the +time of the Maine disaster, married to a rich Cuban." + +The affair was suddenly illuminated by the searchlight of romance. +Peter, for the first time, saw not the light, but the possibility +of it. + +"Marsine has been living in Germany, has he not?" he asked. + +"He is a personal friend of the Kaiser," Sogrange replied. + +They both looked up and listened to the crackling of the electricity +above their heads. + +"I expect Bernadine is a little annoyed," Peter remarked. + +"It isn't pleasant to be out of the party," Sogrange agreed. +"Nearly everybody, however, believed at the last moment that +Sirdeller had transferred his passage to the Lusitania." + +"It's going to cost him an awful lot in marconigrams," Peter said. +"By the bye, wouldn't it have been better for us to have traveled +separately, and incognito?" + +Sogrange shrugged his shoulders slightly. + +"Von Hern has at least one man on board," he replied. "I do not +think that we could possibly have escaped observation. Besides, +I rather imagine that any move we are able to make in this matter +must come before we reach Fire Island." + +"Have you any theory at all?" Peter asked. + +"Not the ghost of a one," Sogrange admitted. "One more fact, though, +I forgot to mention. You may find it important. The Duchesse comes +entirely against Von Hern's wishes. They have been on intimate terms +for years, but for some reason or other he was exceedingly anxious +that she should not take this voyage. She, on the other hand, seemed +to have some equally strong reason for coming. The most useful piece +of advice I could give you would be to cultivate her acquaintance." + +"The Duchesse - " + +Peter never finished his sentence. His companion drew him suddenly +back into the shadow of a lifeboat. + +"Look!" + +A door had opened from lower down the deck, and a curious little +procession was coming towards them. A man, burly and +broad-shouldered, who had the air of a professional bully, walked +by himself ahead. Two others of similar build walked a few steps +behind. And between them a thin, insignificant figure, wrapped in +an immense fur coat and using a strong walking stick, came slowly +along the deck. It was like a procession of prison warders guarding +a murderer, or perhaps a nerve-racked royal personage moving +the end of his days in the midst of enemies. With halting steps +the little old man came shambling along. He looked neither to the +left nor to the right. His eyes were fixed and yet unseeing, his +features were pale and bony. There was no gleam of life, not even +in the stone-cold eyes. Like some machine-made man of a new and +physically degenerate age, he took his exercise under the eye of his +doctor, a strange and miserable-looking object. + +"There goes Sirdeller," Sogrange whispered. "Look at him - the man +whose might is greater than any emperor's. There is no haven in +the universe to which he does not hold the key. Look at him - master +of the world!" + +Peter shivered. There was something depressing in the sight of that +mournful procession. + +"He neither smokes nor drinks," Sogrange continued. "Women, as a +sex, do not exist for him. His religion is a doubting Calvinism. +He has a doctor and a clergyman always by his side to inject life +and hope if they can. Look at him well, my friend. He represents +a great moral lesson." + +"Thanks!" Peter replied. "I am going to take the taste of him out +of my mouth with a whiskey and soda. Afterwards, I'm for the +Duchesse." + +But the Duchesse, apparently, was not for Peter. He found her in the +music-room with several of the little Marconi missives spread out +before her, and she cut him dead. Peter, however, was a brave man, +and skilled at the game of bluff. So he stopped by her side and +without any preamble addressed her. + +"Duchesse," he said, "you are a woman of perceptions. Which do you +believe, then, in your heart to be the more trustworthy - the Count +von Hern or I?" + +She simply stared at him. He continued promptly. + +"You have received your warning, I see." + +"From whom?" + +"From the Count von Hern. Why believe what he says? He may be a +friend of yours - he may be a dear friend - but in your heart you +know that he is both unscrupulous and selfish. Why accept his +word and distrust me? I, at least, am honest." + +She raised her eyebrows. + +"Honest?" she repeated. "Whose word have I for that save your own? +And what concern is it of mine if you possess every one of the +bourgeois qualities in the world? You are presuming, sir." + +"My friend Sogrange will tell you that I am to be trusted," Peter +persisted. + +"I see no reason why I should trouble myself about your personal +characteristics," she replied, coldly. "They do not interest me." + +"On the contrary, Duchesse," Peter continued, fencing wildly, "you +have never in your life been more in need of any one's services than +you are of mine." + +The conflict was uneven. The Duchesse was a nervous, highly strung +woman. The calm assurance of Peter's manner oppressed her with a +sense of his mastery. She sank back upon the couch from which she +had arisen. + +"I wish you would tell me what you mean," she said. "You have no +right to talk to me in this fashion. What have you to do with my +affairs?" + +"I have as much to do with them as the Count von Hem," Peter +insisted, boldly. + +"I have known the Count von Hern," she answered, "for very many +years. You have been a shipboard acquaintance of mine for a few +hours." + +"If you have known the Count von Hern for many years," Peter +asserted, "you have found out by this time that he is an +absolutely untrustworthy person." + +"Supposing he is," she said, "will you tell me what concern it is +of yours? Do you suppose for one moment that I am likely to +discuss my private affairs with a perfect stranger?" + +"You have no private affairs," Peter declared, sternly. "They are +the affairs of a nation." + +She glanced at him with a little shiver. + +From that moment he felt that he was gaining ground. She looked +around the room. It was still filled, but in their corner they +were almost unobserved. + +"How much do you know?" she asked in a low tone which shook with +passion. + +Peter smiled enigmatically. + +"Perhaps more, even, than you, Duchesse," he replied. "I should +like to be your friend. You need one - you know that." + +She rose abruptly to her feet. + +"For to-night it is enough," she declared, wrapping her fur cloak +around her. "You may talk to me to-morrow, Baron. I must think. +If you desire really to be my friend, there is, perhaps, one +service which I may require of you. But to-night, no!" + +Peter stood aside and allowed her to step past him. He was perfectly +content with the progress he had made. Her farewell salute was by +no means ungracious. As soon as she was out of sight, he returned +to the couch where she had been sitting. She had taken away the +marconigrams, but she had left upon the floor several copies of the +New York Herald. He took them up and read them carefully through. +The last one he found particularly interesting, so much so that he +folded it up, placed it in his coat pocket, and went off to look for +Sogrange, whom he found at last in the saloon, watching a noisy game +of "Up Jenkins!" Peter sank upon the cushioned seat by his side. + +"You were right," he remarked. "Bernadine has been busy." + +Sogrange smiled. + +"I trust," he said, "that the Duchesse is not proving faithless?" + +"So far," Peter replied, "I have kept my end up. Tomorrow will be +the test. Bernadine had filled her with caution. She thinks that I +know everything -- whatever everything may be. Unless I can discover +a little more than I do now, to-morrow is going to be an exceedingly +awkward day for me." + +"There is every prospect of your acquiring a great deal of valuable +information before then," Sogrange declared. "Sit tight, my friend. +Something is going to happen." + +On the threshold of the saloon, ushered in by one of the stewards, +a tall, powerful-looking man, with a square, well-trimmed black beard, +was standing looking around as though in search of some one. The +steward pointed out, with an unmistakable movement of his head, Peter +and Sogrange. The man approached and took the next table. + +"Steward," he directed, "bring me a glass of Vermouth and some +dominoes." + +Peter's eyes were suddenly bright. Sogrange touched his foot under +the table and whispered a word of warning. The dominoes were brought. +The newcomer arranged them as though for a game. Then he calmly +withdrew the double-four and laid it before Sogrange. + +"It has been my misfortune, Marquis," he said, "never to have made +your acquaintance, although our mutual friends are many, and I think +I may say that I have the right to claim a certain amount of +consideration from you and your associates. You know me?" + +"Certainly, Prince," Sogrange replied. "I am charmed. Permit me to +present my friend, the Baron de Grost." + +The newcomer bowed and glanced a little nervously around. + +"You will permit me," he begged. "I travel incognito. I have lived +so long in England that I have permitted myself the name of an +Englishman. I am traveling under the name of Mr. James Fanshawe." + +"Mr. Fanshawe, by all means," Sogrange agreed. "In the meantime -" + +"I claim my rights as a corresponding member of the Double-Four," +the newcomer declared. "My friend the Count von Hern finds menace +to certain plans of ours in your presence upon this steamer. +Unknown to him, I come to you openly. I claim your aid, not your +enmity." + +"Let us understand one another clearly," Sogrange said. "You claim +our aid in what?" + +Mr. Fanshawe glanced around the saloon and lowered his voice. + +"I claim your aid towards the overthrowing of the usurping House of +Brangaza and the restoration to power in Spain of my own line." + +Sogrange was silent for several moments. Peter was leaning forward +in his place, deeply interested. Decidedly, this American trip +seemed destined to lead towards events! + +"Our active aid towards such an end," Sogrange said at last, "is +impossible. The Society of the Double-Four does not interfere in +the domestic policy of other nations for the sake of individual +members." + +"Then let me ask you why I find you upon this steamer?" Mr. Fanshawe +demanded, in a tone of suppressed excitement. "Is it for the sea +voyage that you and your friend the Baron de Grost cross the Atlantic +this particular week, on the same steamer as myself, as Mr. Sirdeller, +and - and the Duchesse? One does not believe in such coincidences! +One is driven to conclude that it is your intention to interfere." + +"The affair almost demands our interference," Sogrange replied, +smoothly. "With every due respect to you, Prince, there are great +interests involved in this move of yours." + +The Prince was a big man, but for all his large features and bearded +face his expression was the expression of a peevish and passionate +child. He controlled himself with an effort. + +"Marquis," he said, "this is necessary - I say that it is necessary +that we conclude an alliance." + +Sogrange nodded approvingly. + +"It is well spoken," he said, "but remember - the Baron de Grost +represents England and the English interests of our Society." + +The Prince of Marsine's face was not pleasant to look upon. + +"Forgive me if you are an Englishman by birth, Baron," he said, +turning towards him, "but a more interfering nation in other people's +affairs than England has never existed in the pages of history. She +must have a finger in every pie. Bah!" + +Peter leaned over from his place. + +"What about Germany - Mr. Fanshawe?" he asked, with emphasis. + +The Prince tugged at his beard. He was a little nonplussed. + +"The Count von Hern," he confessed, "has been a good friend to me. +The rulers of his country have always been hospitable and favorably +inclined towards my family. The whole affair is of his design. I +myself could scarcely have moved in it alone. One must reward one's +helpers. There is no reason, however," he added, with a meaning +glance at Peter, "why other helpers should not be admitted." + +"The reward which you offer to the Count von Hern," Peter remarked, +"is of itself absolutely inimical to the interests of my country." + +"Listen!" the Prince demanded, tapping the table before him. "It +is true that within a year I am pledged to reward the Count von Hern +in certain fashion. It is not possible that you know the terms of +our compact, but from your words it is possible that you have +guessed. Very well. Accept this from me. Remain neutral now, +allow this matter to proceed to its natural conclusion, let your +government address representations to me when the time comes, +adopting a bold front, and I promise that I will obey them. It will +not be my fault that I am compelled to disappoint the Count von Hern. +My seaboard would be at the mercy of your fleet. Superior force +must be obeyed." + +"It is a matter, this," Sogrange said, "for discussion between my +friend and me. I think that you will find that we are neither of +us unreasonable. In short, Prince, I see no insuperable reason why +we should not come to terms." + +"You encourage me," the Prince declared, in a gratified tone. "Do +not believe, Marquis, that I am actuated in this matter wholly by +motives of personal ambition. No, it is not so. A great desire +has burned always in my heart, but it is not that alone which moves +me. I assure you that of my certain knowledge Spain is honeycombed + - is rotten with treason. A revolution is a certainty. How much +better that that revolution should be conducted in a dignified +manner; that I, with my reputation for democracy which I have +carefully kept before the eyes of my people, should be elected +President of the new Spanish Republic, even if it is the gold of +the American which places me there. In a year or two, what may +happen who can say? This craving for a republic is but a passing +dream. Spain, at heart, is monarchial. She will be led back to the +light. It is but a short step from the president's chair to the +throne." + +Sogrange and his companion sat quite still. They avoided looking +at each other. + +"There is one thing more," the Prince continued, dropping his voice, +as if, even at that distance, he feared the man of whom he spoke. +"I shall not inform the Count von Hern of our conversation. It is +not necessary, and, between ourselves, the Count is jealous. He +sends me message after message that I remain in my stateroom, that +I seek no interview with Sirdeller, that I watch only. He is too +much of the spy - the Count von Hern. He does not understand that +code of honor, relying upon which I open my heart to you." + +"You have done your cause no harm," Sogrange assured him, with +subtle sarcasm. "We come now to the Duchesse." + +The Prince leaned towards him. It was just at this moment that a +steward entered with a marconigram, which he presented to the Prince. +The latter tore it open, glanced it through, and gave vent to a +little exclamation. The fingers which held the missive trembled. +His eyes blazed with excitement. He was absolutely unable to +control his feelings. + +"My two friends," he cried, in a tone broken with emotion, "it is +you first who shall hear the news! This message has just arrived. +Sirdeller will have received its duplicate. The final report of +the works in Havana Harbor will await us on our arrival in New York, +but the substance of it is this. The Maine was sunk by a torpedo, +discharged at close quarters underneath her magazine. Gentlemen, +the House of Brangaza is ruined!" + +There was a breathless silence. + +"Your information is genuine?" Sogrange asked, softly. + +"Without a doubt," the Prince replied. "I have been expecting this +message. I shall cable to Von Hern. We are still in communication. +He may not have heard." + +"We were about to speak of the Duchesse," Peter reminded him. + +The Prince shook his head. + +"Another time," he declared. "Another time." + +He hurried away. It was already half past ten and the saloon was +almost empty. The steward came up to them. + +"The saloon is being closed for the night, sir," he announced. + +"Let us go on deck," Peter suggested. + +They found their way up on to the windward side of the promenade, +which was absolutely deserted. Far away in front of them now were +the disappearing lights of the Lusitania. The wind roared by as +the great steamer rose and fell on the black stretch of waters. +Peter stood very near to his companion. + +"Listen, Sogrange," he said, "the affair is clear now save for +one thing." + +"You mean Sirdeller's motives?" + +"Not at all," Peter answered. "An hour ago, I came across the +explanation of these. The one thing I will tell you afterwards. +Now listen. Sirdeller came abroad last year for twelve months' +travel. He took a great house in San Sebastian." + +"Where did you hear this?" Sogrange asked. + +"I read the story in the New York Herald," Peter continued. "It +is grossly exaggerated, of course, but this is the substance of it. +Sirdeller and his suite were stopped upon the Spanish frontier and +treated in an abominable fashion by the customs officers. He was +forced to pay a very large sum, unjustly I should think. He paid +under protest, appealed to the authorities, with no result. At +San Sebastian he was robbed right and left, his privacy intruded +upon. In short, he took a violent dislike and hatred to the +country and every one concerned in it. He moved with his entire +suite to Nice, to the Golden Villa. There he expressed himself +freely concerning Spain and her Government. Count von Hern heard +of it and presented Marsine. The plot was, without doubt, +Bernadine's. Can't you imagine how he would put it? +'A revolution,' he would tell Sirdeller, 'is imminent in Spain. +Here is the new President of the Republic. Money is no more to +you than water. You are a patriotic American. Have you forgotten +that a warship of your country with six hundred of her devoted +citizens was sent to the bottom by the treachery of one of this +effete race? The war was an inefficient revenge. The country +still flourishes. It is for you to avenge America. With money +Marsine can establish a republic in Spain within twenty-four hours.' +Sirdeller hesitates. He would point out that it had never been +proved that the destruction of the Maine was really due to Spanish +treachery. It is the idea of a business man which followed. He, +at his own expense, would raise the Maine. If it were true that +the explosion occurred from outside, he would find the money. You +see, the message has arrived. After all these years the sea has +given up its secret. Marsine will return to Spain with an unlimited +credit behind him. The House of Brangaza will crumble up like a +pack of cards." + +Sogrange looked out into the darkness. Perhaps he saw in that great +black gulf the pictures of these happenings which his companion had +prophesied. Perhaps, for a moment, he saw the panorama of a city +in flames, the passing of a great country under the thrall of these +new ideas. At any rate, he turned abruptly away from the side of the +vessel, and taking Peter's arm, walked slowly down the deck. + +"You have solved the puzzle, Baron," he said, gravely. "Now tell me +the one thing. Your story seems to dovetail everywhere." + +"The one thing," Peter said, "is connected with the Duchesse. It +was she, of her own will, who decided to come to America. I +believe that, but for her coming, Bernadine and the Prince would +have waited in their own country. Money can flash from America to +England over the wires. It does not need to be fetched. They have +still one fear. It is connected with the Duchesse. Let me think." + +They walked up and down the deck. The lights were extinguished one +by one, except in the smoking-room. A strange breed of sailors +from the lower deck came up with mops and buckets. The wind changed +its quarter and the great ship began to roll. Peter stopped +abruptly. + +"I find this motion most unpleasant," he said. "I am going to bed. +To-night I cannot think. To-morrow, I promise you, we will solve +this. Hush!" + +He held out his hand and drew his companion back into the shadow of +a lifeboat. A tall figure was approaching them along the deck. As +he passed the little ray of light thrown out from the smoking-room, +the man's features were clearly visible. It was the Prince. He was +walking like one absorbed in thought. His eyes were set like a +sleep-walker's. With one hand he gesticulated. The fingers of the +other were twitching all the time. His head was lifted to the skies. +There was something in his face which redeemed it from its +disfiguring petulance. + +"It is the man who dreams of power," Peter whispered. "It is one +of his best moments, this. He forgets the vulgar means by which +he intends to rise. He thinks only of himself, the dictator, king, +perhaps emperor. He is of the breed of egoists." + +Again and again the Prince passed, manifestly unconscious even of +his whereabouts. Peter and Sogrange crept away unseen to their +staterooms. + +In many respects the room resembled a miniature court of justice. +The principal sitting-room of the royal suite, which was the chief +glory of the Adriatic, had been stripped of every superfluous article +of furniture or embellishment. Curtains had been removed, all +evidences of luxury disposed of. Temporarily the apartment had been +transformed into a bare, cheerless place. Seated on a high chair, +with his back to the wall, was Sirdeller. At his right hand was a +small table, on which stood a glass of milk, a phial, a stethoscope. +Behind his doctor. At his left hand a smooth-faced, silent young +man - his secretary. Before him stood the Duchesse, Peter and +Sogrange. Guarding the door was one of the watchmen, who, from his +great physique, might well have been a policeman out of livery. +Sirdeller himself, in the clear light which streamed through the +large window, seemed more aged and shrunken than ever. His eyes +were deep set. No tinge of color was visible in his cheeks. His +chin protruded, his shaggy gray eyebrows gave him an unkempt +appearance. He wore a black velvet gown, a strangely cut black +morning coat and trousers, felt slippers, and his hands were clasped +upon a stout ash walking-stick. He eyed the newcomers keenly but +without expression. + +"The lady may sit," he said. + +He spoke almost in an undertone, as though anxious to avoid the +fatigue of words. The guardian of the door placed a chair, into +which the Duchesse subsided. Sirdeller held his right hand towards +his doctor, who felt his pulse. All the time Sirdeller watched him, +his lips a little parted, a world of hungry excitement in his eyes. +The doctor closed his watch with a snap and whispered something in +Sirdeller's ear, apparently reassuring. + +"I will hear this story," Sirdeller announced. "In two minutes +every one must leave. If it takes longer, it must remain unfinished." + +Peter spoke up briskly. + +"The story is this," he began. "You have promised to assist the +Prince of Marsine to transform Spain into a republic, providing the +salvage operations on the Maine prove that that ship was destroyed +from outside. The salvage operations have been conducted at your +expense and finished. It has been proved that the Maine was +destroyed by a mine or torpedo from the outside. Therefore, on the +assumption that it was the treacherous deed of a Spaniard or Cuban +imagining himself to be a patriot, you are prepared to carry out +your undertaking and supply the Prince of Marsine with means to +overthrow the Kingdom of Spain." + +Peter paused. The figure on the chair remained motionless. No +flicker of intelligence or interest disturbed the calm of his features. +It was a silence almost unnatural. "I have brought the Duchesse here," +Peter continued, "to tell you the truth as to the Maine disaster." + +Not even then was there the slightest alteration in those ashen gray +features. The Duchesse looked up. She had the air of one only too +eager to speak and finish. + +"In those days," she said, "I was the wife of a rich Cuban gentleman, +whose name I withhold. The American officers on board the Maine used +to visit at our house. My husband was jealous; perhaps he had cause." + +The Duchesse paused. Even though the light of tragedy and romance +side by side seemed suddenly to creep into the room, Sirdeller +listened as one come back from a dead world. + +"One night," the Duchesse went on, "my husband's suspicions were +changed into knowledge. He came home unexpectedly. The American + - the officer - I loved him - he was there on the balcony with me. +My husband said nothing. The officer returned to the ship. That +night my husband came into my room. He bent over my bed. 'It is +not you,' he whispered, 'whom I shall destroy, for the pain of +death is short. Anguish of mind may live. To-night six hundred +ghosts may hang about your pillow!'" + +Her voice broke. There was something grim and unnatural in that +curious stillness. Even the secretary was at last breathing a +little faster. The watchman at the door was leaning forward. +Sirdeller simply moved his hand to the doctor, who held up his +finger while he felt the pulse. The beat of his watch seemed to +sound through the unnatural silence. In a minute he spoke. + +"The lady may proceed," he announced. + +"My husband," the Duchesse continued, "was an officer in charge of +the Mines and Ordnance Department. He went out that night in a +small boat, after a visit to the strong house. No soul has ever +seen or heard of him since, or his boat. It is only I who know!" + +Her voice died away. Sirdeller stretched out his hand and very +deliberately drank a tablespoonful or two of his milk. + +"I believe the lady's story," he declared. "The Marsine affair is +finished. Let no one be admitted to have speech with me again upon +this subject." + +He had half turned towards his secretary. The young man bowed. +The doctor pointed towards the door. The Duchesse, Peter and +Sogrange filed slowly out. In the bright sunlight the Duchesse +burst into a peal of hysterical laughter. Even Peter felt, for +a moment, unnerved. Suddenly he, too, laughed. + +"I think," he said, "that you and I had better get out of the way, +Sogrange, when the Count von Hern meets us at New York!" + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE AFFAIR or AN ALIEN SOCIETY + + +Sogrange and Peter, Baron de Grost, standing upon the threshold of +their hotel, gazed out upon New York and liked the look of it. They +had landed from the steamer a few hours before, had already enjoyed +the luxury of a bath, a visit to an American barber's, and a genuine +cocktail. + +"I see no reason," Sogrange declared, "why we should not take a +week's holiday." + +Peter, glancing up into the blue sky and down into the faces of the +well-dressed and beautiful women who were streaming up Fifth Avenue, +was wholly of the same mind. + +"If we return by this afternoon's steamer," he remarked, "we shall +have Bernadine for a fellow passenger. Bernadine is annoyed with us +just now. I must confess that I should feel more at my ease with a +few thousand miles of the Atlantic between us." + +"Let it be so," Sogrange assented. "We will explore this marvelous +city. Never," he added, taking his companion's arm, "did I expect to +see such women save in my own, the mistress of all cities. So chic, +my dear Baron, and such a carriage! We will lunch at one of the +fashionable restaurants and drive in the Park afterwards. First of +all, however, we must take a stroll along this wonderful Fifth Avenue." + +The two men spent a morning after their own hearts. They lunched +astonishingly well at Sherry's and drove afterwards in Central Park. +When they returned to the hotel, Sogrange was in excellent spirits. + +"I feel, my friend," he announced, "that we are going to have a +very pleasant and, in some respects, a unique week. To meet friends +and acquaintances, everywhere, as one must do in every capital in +Europe, is, of course, pleasant, but there is a monotony about it +from which one is glad sometimes to escape. We lunch here and we +promenade in the places frequented by those of a similar station to +our own, and behold! we know no one. We are lookers on. Perhaps +for a long time it might gall. For a brief period there is a +restfulness about it which pleases me." + +"I should have liked," Peter murmured, "an introduction to the lady +in the blue hat." + +"You are a gregarious animal," Sogrange declared. "You do not +understand the pleasures of a little comparative isolation with an +intellectual companion such as myself . . . What the devil is the +meaning of this!" + +They had reached their sitting-room and upon a small round table +stood a great collection of cards and notes. Sogrange took them up +helplessly, one after the other, reading the names aloud and letting +them fall through his fingers. Some were known to him, some were +not. He began to open the notes. In effect they were all the same + - what evening would the Marquis de Sogrange and his distinguished +friend care to dine, lunch, yacht, golf, shoot, go to the opera, join +a theatre party? Of what clubs would they care to become members? +What kind of hospitality would be most acceptable? + +Sogrange sank into a chair. + +"My friend," he exclaimed, "they all have to be answered - that +collection there! The visits have to be returned. It is magnificent, +this hospitality, but what can one do?" + +Peter looked at the pile of correspondence upon which Sogrange's +inroad, indeed, seemed to have had but little effect. + +"One could engage a secretary, of course," he suggested, doubtfully. +"But the visits! Our week's holiday is gone." + +"Not at all," Sogrange replied. "I have an idea." + +The telephone bell rang. Peter took up the receiver and listened +for a moment. He turned to Sogrange, still holding it in his hand. + +"You will be pleased, also, to hear," he announced, "that there are +half a dozen reporters downstairs waiting to interview [Transcriber's +note: word missing]." + +Sogrange received the information with interest. + +"Have them sent up at once," he directed, "every one of them." + +"What, all at the same time?" Peter asked. + +"All at the same time it must be," Sogrange answered. "Give them to +understand that it is an affair of five minutes only." + +They came trooping in. Sogrange welcomed them cordially. + +"My friend, the Baron de Grost," he explained, indicating Peter. +"I am the Marquis de Sogrange. Let us know what we can do to serve +you." + +One of the men stepped forward. + +"Very glad to meet you, Marquis, and you, Baron," he said. "I +won't bother you with any introductions, but I and the company +here represent the Press of New York. We should like some +information for our papers as to the object of your visit here and +the probable length of your stay." + +Sogrange extended his hands. + +"My dear friend," he exclaimed, "the object of our visit was, I +thought, already well known. We are on our way to Mexico. We +leave to-night. My friend the Baron is, as you know, a financier. +I, too, have a little money to invest. We are going out to meet +some business acquaintances with a view to inspecting some mining +properties. That is absolutely all I can tell you. You can +understand, of course, that fuller information would be impossible." + +"Why, that's quite natural, Marquis," the spokesman of the reporters +replied. "We don't like the idea of your hustling out of New York +like this, though?" + +Sogrange glanced at the clock. + +"It is unavoidable," he declared. "We are relying upon you, +gentlemen, to publish the fact, because you will see," he added, +pointing to the table, "that we have been the recipients of a +great many civilities, which it is impossible for us to acknowledge +properly. If it will give you any pleasure to see us upon our +return, you will be very welcome. In the meantime, you will +understand our haste." + +There were a few more civilities and the representatives of the +Press took their departure. Peter looked at his companion +doubtfully, as Sogrange returned from showing them out. + +"I suppose this means that we have to catch to-day's steamer, after +all?" he remarked. + +"Not necessarily," Sogrange answered. "I have a plan. We will +leave for the Southern depot, wherever it may be. Afterwards, you +shall use that wonderful skill of yours, of which I have heard so +much, to effect some slight change in our appearance. We will then +go to another hotel, in another quarter of New York, and take our +week's holiday incognito. What do you think of that for an idea?" + +"Not much," Peter replied. "It isn't so easy to dodge the newspapers +and the Press in this country. Besides, although I could manage +myself very well, you would be an exceedingly awkward subject. Your +tall and elegant figure, your aquiline nose, the shapeliness of your +hands and feet, give you a distinction which I should find it hard to +conceal." + +Sogrange smiled. + +"You are a remarkably observant fellow, Baron. I quite appreciate +your difficulty. Still, with a club foot, eh, and spectacles instead +of my eyeglass - " + +"Oh, no doubt, something could be managed," Peter interrupted. +"You're really in earnest about this, are you?" + +"Absolutely," Sogrange declared. "Come here!" + +He drew Peter to the window. They were on the twelfth story, and +to a European there was something magnificent in that tangled mass +of buildings threaded by the elevated railway, with its screaming +trains, the clearness of the atmosphere, and in the white streets +below, like polished belts through which the swarms of people +streamed like insects. + +"Imagine it all lit up!" Sogrange exclaimed. "The sky-signs all +ablaze, the flashing of fire from those cable wires, the lights +glittering from those tall buildings! This is a wonderful place, +Baron. We must see it. Ring for the bill. Order one of those + magnificent omnibuses. Press the button, too, for the personage +whom they call the valet. Perhaps, with a little gentle persuasion, +he could be induced to pack our clothes." + +With his finger upon the hell, Peter hesitated. He, too, loved +adventures, but the gloom of a presentiment had momentarily +depressed him. + +"We are marked men, remember, Sogrange," he said. "An escapade of +this sort means a certain amount of risk, even in New York." + +Sogrange laughed. + +"Bernadine caught the midday steamer! We have no enemies here that +I know of." + +Peter pressed the button. An hour or so later, the Marquis de +Sogrange and Peter, Baron de Grost, took their leave of New York. + +They chose a hotel on Broadway, within a stone's throw of Rector's. +Peter, with whitened hair, gold-rimmed spectacles, a slouch hat and +a fur coat, passed easily enough for an English maker of electrical +instruments; while Sogrange, shabbier, and in ready-made American +clothes, was transformed into a Canadian having some connection with +the theatrical business. They plunged into the heart of New York +life, and found the whole thing like a tonic. The intense vitality +of the people, the pandemonium of Broadway at midnight, with its +flaming illuminations, its eager crowd, its inimitable restlessness, +fascinated them both. Sogrange, indeed, remembering the decadent +languor of the crowds of pleasure seekers thronging his own boulevards, +was never weary of watching these men and women. They passed from +the streets to the restaurants, from the restaurants to the theatre, +out into the streets again, back to the restaurants, and once more +into the streets. Sogrange was like a glutton. The mention of bed +was hateful to him. For three days they existed without a moment's +boredom. + +On the fourth evening, Peter found Sogrange deep in conversation +with the head porter. In a few minutes he led Peter away to one +of the bars where they usually took their cocktail. + +"My friend," he announced, "to-night I have a treat for you. So +far we have looked on at the external night life of New York. +Wonderful and thrilling it has been, too. But there is the +underneath, also. Why not? There is a vast polyglot population +here, full of energy said life. A criminal class exists as a matter +of course. To-night we make our bow to it." + +"And by what means?" Peter inquired. + +"Our friend the hall-porter," Sogrange continued, "has given me the +card of an ex-detective who will be our escort. He calls for us +to-night, or rather to-morrow morning, at one o'clock. Then behold! +the wand is waved, the land of adventures opens before us." + +Peter grunted. + +"I don't want to damp your enthusiasm, my Canadian friend," he said, +"but the sort of adventures you may meet with to-night are scarcely +likely to fire your romantic nature. I know a little about what +they call this underneath world in New York. It will probably +resolve itself into a visit to Chinatown, where we shall find the +usual dummies taking opium and quite prepared to talk about it for +the usual tip. After that we shall visit a few low dancing halls, +be shown the scene of several murders, and the thing is done." + +"You are a cynic," Sogrange declared. "You would throw cold water +upon any enterprise. Anyway, our detective is coming. We must make +use of him, for I have engaged to pay him twenty-five dollars." + +"We'll go where you like," Peter assented, "so long as we dine on +a roof garden. This beastly fur coat keeps me in a state of chronic +perspiration." + +"Never mind," Sogrange said, consolingly, "it's most effective. A +roof garden, by all means." + +"And recollect," Peter insisted, "I bar Chinatown. We've both of +us seen the real thing, and there's nothing real about what they +show you here." + +"Chinatown is erased from our program," Sogrange agreed. "We go +now to dine. Remind me, Baron, that I inquire for those strange +dishes of which one hears Terrapin, Canvas-backed Duck, Green Corn, +Strawberry Shortcake." + +Peter smiled grimly. + +"How like a Frenchman," he exclaimed, "to take no account of seasons! +Never mind, Marquis, you shall give your order and I will sketch the +waiter's face. By the bye, if you're in earnest about this +expedition to-night, put your revolver into your pocket." + +"But we 're going with an ex-detective," Sogrange replied. + +"One never knows," Peter said, carelessly. + +They dined close to the stone palisading of one of New York's most +famous roof gardens. Sogrange ordered an immense dinner but spent +most of his time gazing downwards. They were higher up than at the +hotel and they could see across the tangled maze of lights even to +the river, across which the great ferry-boats were speeding all the +while - huge creatures of streaming fire and whistling sirens. The +air where they sat was pure and crisp. There was no fog, no smoke, +to cloud the almost crystalline clearness of the night. + +"Baron," Sogrange declared, "if I had lived in this city I should +have been a different man. No wonder the people are all conquering." + +"Too much electricity in the air for me," Peter answered. "I like a +little repose. I can't think where these people find it." + +"One hopes," Sogrange murmured, "that before they progress any +further in utilitarianism, they will find some artist, one of +themselves, to express all this." + +"In the meantime," Peter interrupted, "the waiter would like to know +what we are going to drink. I've eaten such a confounded jumble of +things of your ordering that I should like some champagne." + +"Who shall say that I am not generous!" Sogrange replied, taking up +the wine carte. "Champagne it shall be. We need something to nerve +us for our adventures." + +Peter leaned across the table. + +"Sogrange," he whispered, "for the last twenty-four hours I have +had some doubts as to the success of our little enterprise. It has +occurred to me more than once that we are being shadowed." + +Sogrange frowned. + +"I sometimes wonder," he remarked, "how a man of your suspicious +nature ever acquired the reputation you undoubtedly enjoy." + +"Perhaps it is because of my suspicious nature," Peter said. "There +is a man staying in our hotel whom we are beginning to see quite a +great deal of. He was talking to the head porter a few minutes +before you this afternoon. He supped at the same restaurant last +night. He is dining now three places behind you to the right, with +a young lady who has been making flagrant attempts at flirtation +with me, notwithstanding my gray hairs." + +"Your reputation, my dear Peter," Sogrange murmured - + +"As a decoy," Peter interrupted, "the young lady's methods are too +vigorous. She pretends to be terribly afraid of her companion, but +it is entirely obvious that she is acting on his instructions. Of +course, this may be a ruse of the reporters. On the other hand, I +think it would be wise to abandon our little expedition to-night." + +Sogrange shook his head. + +"So far as I am concerned," he said, "I am committed to it." + +"In which case," Peter replied, "I am certainly committed to being +your companion. The only question is whether one shall fall to the +decoy and suffer oneself to be led in the direction her companion +desires, or whether we shall go blundering into trouble on our own +account with your friend the ex-detective." + +Sogrange glanced over his shoulder, leaned back in his chair for a +moment, as though to look at the stars, and finally lit a cigarette. + +"There is a lack of subtlety about that young person, Baron," he +declared, "which stifles one's suspicions. I suspect her to be +merely one more victim to your undoubted charms. In the interests +of Madame your wife, I shall take you away. The decoy shall weave +her spells in vain." + +They paid their bill and departed a few minutes later. The man and +the girl were also in the act of leaving. The former seemed to be +having some dispute about the bill. The girl, standing with her +back to him, scribbled a line upon a piece of paper, and, as Peter +went by, pushed it into his hand with a little warning gesture. In +the lift he opened it. The few penciled words contained nothing but +an address: Number 15, 100th Street, East. + +"Lucky man!" Sogrange sighed. + +Peter made no remark, but he was thoughtful for the next hour or so. + +The ex-detective proved to be an individual of fairly obvious +appearance, whose complexion and thirst indicated a very possible +reason for his life of leisure. He heard with surprise that his +patrons were not inclined to visit Chinatown, but he showed a +laudable desire to fall in with their schemes, provided always +that they included a reasonable number of visits to places where +refreshment could be obtained. From first to last, the expedition +was a disappointment. They visited various smoke-hung dancing halls, +decorated for the most part with oleographs and cracked mirrors, in +which sickly-Looking young men of unwholesome aspect were dancing +with their feminine counterparts. The attitude of their guide was +alone amusing. + +"Say, you want to be careful in here!" he would declare, in an awed +tone, on entering one of these tawdry palaces. "Guess this is one +of the toughest spots in New York City. You stick close to me and +I'll make things all right." + +His method of making things all right was the same in every case. +He would form a circle of disreputable-looking youths, for whose +drinks Sogrange was called upon to pay. The attitude of these young +men was more dejected than positively vicious. They showed not the +slightest signs of any desire to make themselves unpleasant. Only +once, when Sogrange incautiously displayed a gold watch, did the +eyes of one or two of their number glisten. The ex-detective changed +his place and whispered hoarsely in his patron's ear. + +"Say, don't you flash anything of that sort about here! That young +cove right opposite to you is one of the best known sneak-thieves +in the city. You're asking for trouble that way." + +"If he or any other of them want my watch," Sogrange answered calmly, +"let them come and fetch it. However," he added, buttoning up his +coat, "no doubt you are right. Is there anywhere else to take us?" + +The man hesitated. + +"There ain't much that you haven't seen," he remarked. + +Sogrange laughed softly as he rose to his feet. + +"A sell, my dear friend," he said to Peter. "This terrible city +keeps its real criminal class somewhere else rather than in the +show places." + +A man who had been standing in the doorway, looking in for several +moments, strolled up to them. Peter recognized him at once and +touched Sogrange on the arm. The newcomer accosted them pleasantly. + +"Say, you'll excuse my butting in," he began, "but I can see you're +kind of disappointed. These suckers" - indicating the ex-detective - +"talk a lot about what they're going to show you, and when they get +you round it all amounts to nothing. This is the sort of thing they +bring you to, as representing the wickedness of New York! That's so, +Rastall, isn't it?" + +The ex-detective looked a little sheepish. + +"Yes, there ain't much more to be seen," he admitted. "Perhaps +you'll take the job on if you think there is." + +"Well, I'd show the gentlemen something of a sight more interesting +that this," the newcomer continued. "They don't want to sit down and +drink with the scum of the earth." + +"Perhaps," Sogrange suggested, "this gentleman has something in his +mind which he thinks would appeal to us. We have a motor car outside +and we are out for adventures." + +"What sort of adventures?" the newcomer asked, bluntly. + +Sogrange shrugged his shoulders lightly. + +"We are lookers-on merely," he explained. "My friend and I have +traveled a good deal. We have seen something of criminal life in +Paris and London, Vienna and Budapest. I shall not break any +confidence if I tell you that my friend is a writer, and material +such as this is useful." + +The newcomer smiled. + +"Well," he exclaimed, "in a way, it's fortunate for you that I +happened along! You come right with me and I'll show you something +that very few other people in this city know of. Guess you'd +better pay this fellow off," he added, indicating the ex-detective. +"He's no more use to you." + +Sogrange and Peter exchanged questioning glances. + +"It is very kind of you, sir," Peter decided, "but for my part I +have had enough for one evening." + +"Just as you like, of course," the other remarked, with studied +unconcern. + +"What sort of place would it be?" Sogrange asked. + +The newcomer drew them on one side, although, as a matter of fact, +every one else had already melted away. + +"Have you ever heard of the Secret Societies of New York?" he +inquired. "Well, I guess you haven't, any way - not to know +anything about them. Well, then, listen. There's a Society +meets within a few steps of here, which has more to do with +regulating the criminal classes of the city than any police +establishment. There'll be a man there within an hour or so, +who, to my knowledge, has committed seven murders. The police +can't get him. They never will. He's under our protection." + +"May we visit such a place as you describe without danger?" Peter +asked, calmly. + +"No!" the man answered. "There's danger in going anywhere, it seems +to me, if it's worth while. So long as you keep a still tongue in +your head and don't look about you too much, there's nothing will +happen to you. If you get gassing a lot, you might tumble in for +almost anything. Don't come unless you like. It's a chance for +your friend, as he's a writer, but you'd best keep out of it if +you're in any way nervous." + +"You said it was quite close?" Sogrange inquired. + +"Within a yard or two," the man replied. "It's right this way." + +They left the hall with their new escort. When they looked for +their motor car, they found it had gone. + +"It don't do to keep them things waiting about round here," their +new friend remarked, carelessly. "I guess I'll send you back to +your hotel all right. Step this way." + +"By the bye, what street is this we are in?" Peter asked. + +"100th Street," the man answered. + +Peter shook his head. + +"I'm a little superstitious about that number," he declared. "Is +that an elevated railway there? I think we've had enough, Sogrange." + +Sogrange hesitated. They were standing now in front of a tall +gloomy house, unkempt, with broken gate - a large but +miserable-looking abode. The passers-by in the street were few. +The whole character of the surroundings was squalid. The man pushed +open the broken gate. + +"You cross the street right there to the elevated," he directed. +"If you ain't coming, I'll bid you good-night." + +Once more they hesitated. Peter, perhaps, saw more than his +companion. He saw the dark shapes lurking under the railway arch. +He knew instinctively that they were in some sort of danger. And +yet the love of adventure was on fire in his blood. His belief +in himself was immense. He whispered to Sogrange. + +"I do not trust our guide," he said. "If you care to risk it, I +am with you." + +"Mind the broken pavement," the man called out. "This ain't exactly +an abode of luxury." + +They climbed some broken steps. Their guide opened a door with a +Yale key. The door swung to, after them, and they found themselves +in darkness. There had been no light in the windows; there was no +light, apparently, in the house. Their companion produced an +electric torch from his pocket. + +"You had best follow me," he advised. "Our quarters face out the +other way. We keep this end looking a little deserted." + +They passed through a swing door and everything was at once changed. +A multitude of lamps hung from the ceiling, the floor was carpeted, +the walls clean. + +"We don't go in for electric light," their guide explained, "as we +try not to give the place away. We manage to keep it fairly +comfortable, though." + +He pushed open the door and entered a somewhat gorgeously furnished +salon. There were signs here of feminine occupation, an open piano, +and the smell of cigarettes. Once more Peter hesitated. + +"Your friends seem to be in hiding," he remarked. "Personally, I +am losing my curiosity." + +"Guess you won't have to wait very long," the man replied, with +meaning. + +The room was suddenly invaded on all sides. Four doors, which +were quite hidden by the pattern of the wall, had opened almost +simultaneously, and at least a dozen men had entered. This time +both Sogrange and Peter knew that they were face to face with the +real thing. These were men who came silently in, no +cigarette-stunted youths. Two of them were in evening dress; +three or four had the appearance of prize fighters. In their +countenances was one expression common to all - an air of quiet +and conscious strength. + +A fair-headed man, in dinner jacket and black tie, became at once +their spokesman. He was possessed of a very slight American accent, +and he beamed at them through a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I am glad to meet you both." + +"Very kind of you, I'm sure," Sogrange answered. "Our friend here," +he added, indicating their guide, "found us trying to gain a little +insight into the more interesting part of New York life. He was +kind enough to express a wish to introduce us to you." + +The man smiled. He looked very much like some studious clerk, +except that his voice seemed to ring with some latent power. + +"I am afraid," he said, "that your friend's interest in you was +not entirely unselfish. For three days he has carried in his pocket +an order instructing him to produce you here." + +"I knew it!" Peter whispered, under his breath. + +"You interest me," Sogrange replied. "May I know whom I have the +honor of addressing?" + +"You can call me Burr," the man announced, "Philip Burr. Your +names it is not our wish to know." + +"I am afraid I do not quite understand," Sogrange said. + +"It was scarcely to be expected that you should," Mr. Philip Burr +admitted. "All I can tell you is that, in cases like yours, I +really prefer not to know with whom I have to deal." + +"You speak as though you had business with us," Peter remarked. + +"Without doubt, I have," the other replied, grimly. "It is my +business to see that you do not leave these premises alive." + +Sogrange drew up a chair against which he had been leaning, and +sat down. + +"Really," he said, "that would be most inconvenient." Peter, too, +shook his head, sitting upon the end of a sofa and folding his +arms. Something told him that the moment for fighting was not yet. + +"Inconvenient or not," Mr. Philip Burr continued, "I have orders to +carry out which I can assure you have never yet been disobeyed since +the formation of our Society. From what I can see of you, you +appear to be very amiable gentlemen, and if it would interest you +to choose the method - say, of your release - why, I can assure +you we'll do all we can to meet your views." + +"I am beginning," Sogrange remarked, "to feel quite at home." + +"You see, we've been through this sort of thing before," Peter +added, blandly. + +Mr. Philip Burr took a cigar from his case and lit it. At a motion +of his hand, one of the company passed the box to his two guests. + +"You're not counting upon a visit from the police, or anything of +that sort, I hope?" Mr. Philip Burr asked. + +Sogrange shook his head. + +"Certainly not," he replied. "I may say that much of the earlier +portion of my life was spent in frustrating the well-meant but +impossible schemes of that body of men." + +"If only we had a little more time," Mr. Burr declared, "it seems +to me I should like to make the acquaintance of you two gentlemen." + +"The matter is entirely in your own hands," Peter reminded him. "We +are in no hurry." + +Mr. Burr smiled genially. + +"You make me think better of humanity," he confessed. "A month ago +we had a man here - got him along somehow or another - and I had to +tell him that he was up against it like you two are. My! the fuss +he made! Kind of saddened me to think a man should be such a +coward." + +"Some people like that," Sogrange remarked. "By the bye, Mr. Burr, +you'll pardon my curiosity. Whom have we to thank for our +introduction here to-night?" + +"I don't know as there's any particular harm in telling you," Mr. +Burr replied - + +"Nor any particular good," a man who was standing by his side +interrupted. "Say, Phil, you drag these things out too much. +Are there any questions you've got to ask 'em, or any property +to collect?" + +"Nothing of the sort," Mr. Burr admitted. + +"Then let the gang get to work," the other declared. + +The two men were suddenly conscious that they were being surrounded. +Peter's hand stole on to the butt of his revolver. Sogrange rose +slowly to his feet. His hands were thrust out in front of him with +the thumbs turned down. The four fingers of each hand flashed for +a minute through the air. Mr. Philip Burr lost all his self-control. + +"Say, where the devil did you learn that trick?" he cried. + +Sogrange laughed scornfully. + +"Trick!" he exclaimed. "Philip Burr, you are unworthy of your +position. I am the Marquis de Sogrange, and my friend here is the +Baron de Grost." + +Mr. Philip Burr had no words. His cigar had dropped on to the +carpet. He was simply staring. + +"If you need proof," Sogrange continued, "further than any I have +given you, I have in my pocket, at the present moment, a letter, +signed by you yourself, pleading for formal reinstatement. This is +how you would qualify for it! You make use of your power to run a +common decoy house, to do away with men for money. What fool gave +you our names, pray?" + +Mr. Philip Burr was only the wreck of a man. He could not even +control his voice. + +"It was some German or Belgian nobleman," he faltered. "He brought +us excellent letters, and he made a large contribution. It was the +Count von Hern." + +The anger of Sogrange seemed suddenly to fade away. He threw himself +into a chair by the side of his companion. + +"My dear Baron," he exclaimed, "Bernadine has scored, indeed! Your +friend has a sense of humor which overwhelms me. Imagine it. He +has delivered the two heads of our great Society into the hands of +one of its cast-off branches! Bernadine is a genius, indeed!" + +Mr. Philip Burr began slowly to recover himself. He waved his hand. +Nine out of the twelve men left the room. + +"Marquis," he said, "for ten years there has been no one whom I +have desired to meet so much as you. I came to Europe but you +declined to receive me. I know very well we can't keep our end up +like you over there, because we haven't politics and that sort of +things to play with, but we've done our best. We've encouraged +only criminology of the highest order. We've tried all we can to +keep the profession select. The jail-bird, pure and simple, we +have cast out. The men who have suffered at our hands have been +men who have met with their deserts." + +"What about us?" Peter demanded. "It seems to me that you had most +unpleasant plans for our future." + +Philip Burr held up his hands. + +"As I live," he declared, "this is the first time that any money +consideration has induced me to break away from our principles. +That Count von Hern, he had powerful friends who were our friends, +and he gave me the word, straight, that you two had an appointment +down below which was considerably overdue. I don't know, even now, +why I consented. I guess it isn't much use apologizing." + +Sogrange rose to his feet. + +"Well," he said, "I am not inclined to bear malice, but you must +understand this from me, Philip Burr. As a Society, I dissolve you. +I deprive you of your title and of your signs. Call yourself what +you will, but never again mention the name of the 'Double-Four.' +With us in Europe, another era has dawned. We are on the side of +law and order. We protect only criminals of a certain class, in +whose operations we have faith. There is no future for such a +society in this country. Therefore, as I say, I dissolve it. Now, +if you are ready, perhaps you will be so good as to provide us with +the means of reaching our hotel." + +Philip Burr led them into a back street, where his own handsome +automobile was placed at their service. + +"This kind of breaks me all up," he declared, as he gave the +instructions to the chauffeur. "If there were two men on the face +of this earth whom I'd have been proud to meet in a friendly sort +of way, it's you two." + +"We bear no malice, Mr. Burr," Sogrange assured him. "You can, +if you will do us the honor, lunch with us to-morrow at one o'clock +at Rector's. My friend here is quite interested in the Count von +Hern, and he would probably like to hear exactly how this affair +was arranged." + +"I'll be there, sure," Philip Burr promised, with a farewell wave +of the hand. + +Sogrange and Peter drove back towards their hotel in silence. It +was only when they emerged into the civilized part of the city that +Sogrange began to laugh softly. + +"My friend," he murmured, "you bluffed fairly well, but you were +afraid. Oh, how I smiled to see your fingers close round the butt +of that revolver!" + +"What about you?" Peter asked, gruffly. "You don't suppose you +took me in, do you?" + +Sogrange smiled. + +"I had two reasons for coming to New York," he said. "One we +accomplished upon the steamer. The other was - " + +"Well?" + +"To reply personally to this letter of Mr. Philip Burr," Sogrange +replied, "which letter, by the bye, was dated from 15, 100th Street, +New York. An ordinary visit there would have been useless to me. +Something of this sort was necessary." + +"Then you knew!" Peter gasped. "Notwithstanding all your bravado, +you knew!" + +"I had a very fair idea," Sogrange admitted. "Don't be annoyed with +me, my friend. You have had a little experience. It is all useful. +It isn't the first time you've looked death in the face. Adventures +come to some men unasked. You, I think, were born with the habit +of them." + +Peter smiled. They had reached the hotel courtyard and he raised +himself stiffly. + +"There's a little fable about the pitcher that went once too often +to the well," he remarked. "I have had my share of luck - more than +my share. The end must come sometime, you know." + +"Is this superstition?" Sogrange asked. + +"Superstition, pure and simple," Peter confessed, taking his key +from the office. "It doesn't alter anything. I am fatalist enough +to shrug my shoulders and move on. But I tell you, Sogrange," he +added, after a moment's pause, "I wouldn't admit it to any one else +in the world, but I am afraid of Bernadine. I have had the best of +it so often. It can't last. In all we've had twelve encounters. +The next will be the thirteenth." + +Sogrange shrugged his shoulders slightly as he rang for the lift. + +"I'd propose you for the Thirteen Club, only there's some +uncomfortable clause about yearly suicides which might not suit +you," he remarked. "Good-night, and don't dream of Bernadine and +your thirteenth encounter." + +"I only hope," Peter murmured, "that I may be in a position to +dream after it." + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE THIRTEENTH ENCOUNTER + + +The Marquis de Sogrange arrived in Berkeley Square with the gray +dawn of an October morning, showing in his appearance and dress +few enough signs of his night journey. Yet he had traveled without +stopping from Paris, by fast motor car and the mail boat. + +"They telephoned me from Charing Cross," Peter said, "that you +could not possibly arrive until midday. The clerk assured me +that no train had yet reached Calais." + +"They had reason in what they told you," Sogrange remarked, as he +leaned back in a chair and sipped the coffee which had been waiting +for him in the Baron de Grost's study. "The train itself never got +more than a mile away from the Gare du Nord. The engine-driver +was shot through the head and the metals were torn from the way. +Paris is within a year now of a second and more terrible revolution." + +"You really believe this?" Peter asked, gravely. + +"It is a certainty," Sogrange replied. "Not I alone but many others +can see this clearly. Everywhere the Socialists have wormed +themselves into places of trust. They are to be met with in every +rank of life, under every form of disguise. The post-office strike +has already shown us what deplorable disasters even a skirmish can +bring about. To-day the railway strike has paralyzed France. +To-day our country lies absolutely at the mercy of any invader. As +it happens, none is, for the moment, prepared. Who can tell how it +may be next time?" + +"This is had news," Peter declared. "If this is really the +position of affairs, the matter is much more serious than the +newspapers would have us believe." + +"The newspapers," Sogrange muttered, "ignore what lies behind. Some +of them, I think, are paid to do it. As for the rest, our Press had +always an ostrich-like tendency. The Frenchman of the cafe does +not buy his journal to be made sad." + +"You believe, then," Peter asked, "that these strikes have some +definite tendency?" + +Sogrange set down his cup and smiled bitterly. In the early +sunlight, still a little cold and unloving, Peter could see that +there was a change in the man. He was no longer the debonair +aristocrat of the race-courses and the boulevards. The shadows +under his eyes were deeper, his cheeks more sunken. He had lost +something of the sprightliness of his bearing. His attitude, +indeed, was almost dejected. He was like a man who sees into the +future and finds there strange and gruesome things. + +"I do more than believe that," he declared. "I know it. It has +fallen to my lot to make a very definite discovery concerning them. +Listen, my friend. For more than six months the government has been +trying to discover the source of this stream of vile socialistic +literature which has contaminated the French working classes. The +pamphlets have been distributed with devilish ingenuity among all +national operatives, the army and the navy. The government has +failed. The Double-Four has succeeded." + +"You have really discovered their source?" Peter exclaimed. + +"Without a doubt," Sogrange assented. "The government appealed to +us first some months ago when I was in America. For a time we had +no success. Then a clue, and the rest was easy. The navy, the +army, the post-office employees, the telegraph and telephone +operators and the railway men, have been the chief recipients of +this incessant stream of foul literature. To-day one cannot tell +how much mischief has been actually done. The strikes which have +already occurred are only the mutterings of the coming storm. But +mark you, wherever those pamphlets have gone, trouble has followed. +What men may do the government is doing, but all the time the poison +is at work, the seed has been sown. Two millions of money have been +spent to corrupt that very class which should be the backbone of +France. Through the fingers of one man has come this shower of gold, +one man alone has stood at the head of the great organization which +has disseminated this loathsome disease. Behind him - well, we know." + +"The man?" + +"It is fitting that you should ask that question," Sogrange replied. +"The name of that man is Bernadine, Count von Hern." + +Peter remained speechless. There was something almost terrible in +the slow preciseness with which Sogrange had uttered the name of his +enemy, something unspeakably threatening in the cold glitter of his +angry eyes. + +"Up to the present," Sogrange continued, "I have watched - +sympathetically, of course, but with a certain amount of amusement + - the duel between you and Bernadine. It has been against your +country and your country's welfare that most of his efforts have +been directed, which perhaps accounts for the equanimity with which +I have been contented to remain a looker-on. It is apparent, my +dear Baron, that in most of your encounters the honors have remained +with you. Yet, as it has chanced, never once has Bernadine been +struck a real and crushing blow. The time has come when this and +more must happen. It is no longer a matter of polite exchanges. +It is a duel a outrance." + +"You mean," Peter began - + +"I mean that Bernadine must die," Sogrange declared. + +There was a brief silence. Outside, the early morning street noises +were increasing in volume as the great army of workers, streaming +towards the heart of the city from a hundred suburbs, passed on to +their tasks. A streak of sunshine had found its way into the room, +lay across the carpet and touched Sogrange's still, waxen features. +Peter glanced half fearfully at his friend and visitor. He himself +was no coward, no shrinker from the great issues. He, too, had +dealt in life and death. Yet there was something in the deliberate +preciseness of Sogrange's words, as he sat there only a few feet +away, unspeakably thrilling. It was like a death sentence +pronounced in all solemnity upon some shivering criminal. There +was something inevitable and tragical about the whole affair. A +pronouncement had been made from which there was no appeal - +Bernadine was to die! + +"Isn't this a little exceeding the usual exercise of our powers?" +Peter asked, slowly. + +"No such occasion as this has ever yet arisen," Sogrange reminded +him. "Bernadine has fled to this country with barely an hour to +spare. His offense is extraditable by a law of the last century +which has never been repealed. He is guilty of treason against +the Republic of France. Yet they do not want him back, they do +not want a trial. I have papers upon my person which, if I took +them into an English court, would procure for me a warrant for +Bernadine's arrest. It is not this we desire. Bernadine must die. +No fate could be too terrible for a man who has striven to corrupt +the soul of a nation. It is not war, this. It is not honest +conspiracy. Is it war, I ask you, to seek to poison the drinking +water of an enemy, to send stalking into their midst some loathsome +disease? Such things belong to the ages of barbarity. Bernadine +has striven to revive them and Bernadine shall die." + +"It is justice," Peter admitted. + +"The question remains," Sogrange continued, "by whose hand - yours +or mine?" + +Peter started uneasily. + +"Is that necessary?" he asked. + +"I fear that it is," Sogrange replied. "We had a brief meeting of +the executive council last night, and it was decided, for certain +reasons, to entrust this task into no other hands. You will smile +when I tell you that these accursed pamphlets have found their way +into the possession of many of the rank and file of our own order. +There is a marked disinclination on the part of those who have been +our slaves, to accept orders from any one. Espionage we can still +command - the best, perhaps, in Europe - because here we use a +different class of material. But of those underneath, we are, for +the moment, doubtful. Paris is all in a ferment. Under its outward +seemliness a million throats are ready to take up the brazen cry of +revolution. One trusts nobody. One fears all the time." + +"You or I!" Peter repeated, slowly. "It will not be sufficient, +then, that we find Bernadine and deliver him over to your country's +laws?" + +"It will not be sufficient," Sogrange answered, sternly. "From those +he may escape. For him there must be no escape." + +"Sogrange," Peter said, speaking in a low tone, "I have never yet +killed a human being." + +"Nor I," Sogrange admitted. "Nor have I yet set my heel upon its +head and stamped the life from a rat upon the pavement. But one +lives and one moves on. Bernadine is the enemy of your country and +mine. He makes war after the fashion of vermin. No ordinary +cut-throat would succeed against him. It must be you or I." + +"How shall we decide?" Peter asked. + +"The spin of a coin," Sogrange replied. "It is best that way. It +is best, too, done quickly." + +Peter produced a sovereign from his pocket and balanced it on the +palm of his hand. + +"Let it be understood," Sogrange continued, "that this is a dual +undertaking. We toss only for the final honor - for the last stroke. +If the choice falls upon me, I shall count upon you to help me to +the end. If it falls upon you, I shall be at your right hand even +when you strike the blow." + +"It is agreed," Peter said. "See, it is for you to call." + +He threw the coin high into the air. + +"I call heads," Sogrange decided. + +It fell upon the table. Peter covered it with his hand and then +slowly withdrew the fingers. A little shiver ran through his veins. +The harmless head that looked up at him was like the figure of death. +It was for him to strike the blow! + +"Where is Bernadine now?" he asked. + +"Get me a morning paper and I will tell you," Sogrange declared, +rising. "He was in the train which was stopped outside the Gare du +Nord, on his way to England. What became of the passengers I have +not heard. I knew what was likely to happen, and I left an hour +before in a 100 H. P. Charron." + +Peter rang the bell and ordered the servant who answered it to +procure the Daily Telegraph. As soon as it arrived, he spread it +open upon the table and Sogrange looked over his shoulder. These +are the headings which they saw in large black characters: + + RENEWED RIOTS IN PARIS + + THE GARE DU NORD IN FLAMES + + TERRIBLE ACCIDENT TO THE CALAIS-DOUVRES EXPRESS + + MANY DEATHS + + +Peter's forefinger traveled down the page swiftly. It paused at +the following paragraph: + +The 8.55 train from the Gare du Nord, carrying many passengers for +London, after being detained within a mile of Paris for over an +hour owing to the murder of the engine-driver, made an attempt +last night to proceed, with terrible results. Near Chantilly, +whilst travelling at over fifty miles an hour, the switches were +tampered with and the express dashed into a goods train laden with +minerals. Very few particulars are yet to hand, but the express +was completely wrecked and many lives have been lost. + +Among the dead are the following: + +One by one Peter read out the names. Then he stopped short. A +little exclamation broke from Sogrange's lips. The thirteenth name +upon that list of dead was that of Bernadine, Count von Hern. + +"Bernadine!" Peter faltered. "Bernadine is dead!" + +"Killed by the strikers!" Sogrange echoed! "It is a just thing, +this." + +The two men looked down at the paper and then up at one another. +A strange silence seemed to have found its way into the room. The +shadow of death lay between them. Peter touched his forehead and +found it wet. + +"It is a just thing, indeed," he repeated, "but justice and death +are alike terrible." . . . + +Late in the afternoon of the same day, a motor car, splashed with +mud, drew up before the door of the house in Berkeley Square. +Sogrange, who was standing talking to Peter before the library +window, suddenly broke off in the middle of a sentence. He stepped +back into the room and gripped his friend's shoulder. + +"It is the Baroness!" he exclaimed, quickly. "What does she want +here?" + +"The Baroness who? Peter demanded. + +"The Baroness von Ratten. You must have heard of her - she is the +friend of Bernadine." + +The two men had been out to lunch at the Ritz with Violet and had +walked across the Park home. Sogrange had been drawing on his +gloves in the act of starting out for a call at the Embassy. + +"Does your wife know this woman?" he asked. Peter shook his head. + +"I think not," he replied. + +"Then she has come to see you," Sogrange continued. "What does it +mean, I wonder?" + +Peter shrugged his shoulders. + +"We shall know in a minute." + +There was a knock at the door and his servant entered, bearing a +card. + +"This lady would like to see you, sir, on important business," he +said. + +"You can show her in here," Peter directed. + +There was a very short delay. The two men had no time to exchange +a word. They heard the rustling of a woman's gown, and immediately +afterwards the perfume of violets seemed to fill the room. + +"The Baroness von Ratten!" the butler announced. + +The door was closed behind her. The servant had disappeared. Peter +advanced to meet his guest. She was a little above medium height, +very slim, with extraordinarily fair hair, colorless face, and +strange eyes. She was not strictly beautiful and yet there was no +man upon whom her presence was without its effect. Her voice was +like her movements, slow and with a grace of its own. + +"You do not mind that I have come to see you?" she asked, raising +her eyes to Peter's. "I believe before I go that you will think +terrible things of me, but you must not begin before I have told +you my errand. It has been a great struggle with me before I made +up my mind to come here." + +"Won't you sit down, Baroness?" Peter invited. + +She saw Sogrange and hesitated. + +"You are not alone," she said, softly. "I wish to speak with you +alone." + +"Permit me to present to you the Marquis de Sogrange," Peter begged. +"He is my oldest friend, Baroness. I think that whatever you might +have to say to me you might very well say before him." + +"It is - of a private nature," she murmured. + +"The Marquis and I have no secrets," Peter declared, "either political +or private." + +She sat down and motioned Peter to take a place by her side upon +the sofa. + +"You will forgive me if I am a little incoherent," she implored. +"To-day I have had a shock. You, too, have read the news? You +must know that the Count von Hern is dead - killed in the railway +accident last night?" + +"We read it in the Daily Telegraph," Peter replied. + +"It is in all the papers," she continued. "You know that he was a +very dear friend of mine?" + +"I have heard so," Peter admitted. + +"Yet there was one subject," she insisted, earnestly, "upon which +we never agreed. He hated England. I have always loved it. +England was kind to me when my own country drove me out. I have +always felt grateful. It has been a sorrow to me that in so many +of his schemes, in so much of his work, Bernadine should consider +his own country at the expense of yours." + +Sogrange drew a little nearer. It began to be interesting, this. + +"I heard the news early this morning by telegram," she went on. +"For a long time I was prostrated. Then early this afternoon I +began to think - one must always think. Bernadine was a dear friend, +but things between us lately have been different, a little strained. +Was it his fault or mine - who can say? Does one tire with the +years, I wonder? I wonder!" + +Her eyes were lifted to his and Peter was conscious of the fact that +she wished him to know that they were beautiful. She looked slowly +away again. + +"This afternoon, as I sat alone," she proceeded, "I remembered that +in my keeping were many boxes of papers and many letters which have +recently arrived, all belonging to Bernadine. I reflected that +there were certainly some who were in his confidence, and that very +soon they would come from his country and take them all away. And +then I remembered what I owed to England, and how opposed I always +was to Bernadine's schemes, and I thought that the best thing I +could do to show my gratitude would be to place his papers all in +the hands of some Englishman, so that they might do no more harm to +the country which has been kind to me. So I came to you." + +Again her eyes were lifted to his and Peter was very sure indeed +that they were wonderfully beautiful. He began to realize the +fascination of this woman, of whom he had heard so much. Her very +absence of coloring was a charm. + +"You mean that you have brought me these papers?" he asked. + +She shook her head slowly. + +"No," she said, "I could not do that. There were too many of them + - they are too heavy, and there are piles of pamphlets - +revolutionary pamphlets, I am afraid - all in French, which I do +not understand. No, I could not bring them to you. But I ordered +my motor car and I drove up here to tell you that if you like to +come down to the house in the country where I have been living, to +which Bernadine was to have come to-night - yes, and bring your +friend, too, if you will - you shall look through them before any +one else can arrive." + +"You are very kind," Peter murmured. "Tell me where it is that you +live." + +"It is beyond Hitchin," she told him, "up the Great North Road. I +tell you at once, it is a horrible house in a horrible lonely spot. +Within a day or two I shall leave it myself forever. I hate it - it +gets on my nerves. I dream of all the terrible things which perhaps +have taken place there. Who can tell? It was Bernadine's long +before I came to England." + +"When are we to come?" Peter asked. + +"You must come back with me now, at once," the Baroness insisted. +"I cannot tell how soon some one in his confidence may arrive." + +"I will order my car," Peter declared. + +She laid her hand upon his arm. + +"Do you mind coming in mine?" she begged. "It is of no consequence, +if you object, but every servant in Bernadine's house is a German +and a spy. There are no women except my own maid. Your car is +likely enough known to them and there might be trouble. If you will +come with me now, you and your friend, if you like, I will send you +to the station to-night in time to catch the train home. I feel +that I must have this thing off my mind. You will come? Yes?" + +Peter rang the bell and ordered his coat. + +"Without a doubt," he answered. "May we not offer you some tea +first?" + +She shook her head. + +"To-day I cannot think of eating or drinking," she replied. +"Bernadine and I were no longer what we had been, but the shock of +his death seems none the less terrible. I feel like a traitor to +him for coming here, yet I believe that I am doing what is right," +she added, softly. + +"If you will excuse me for one moment," Peter said, "while I take +leave of my wife, I will rejoin you presently." + +Peter was absent for only a few minutes. Sogrange and the Baroness +exchanged the merest commonplaces. As they all passed down the hall, +Sogrange lingered behind. + +"If you will take the Baroness out to the car," he suggested, "I +will telephone to the Embassy and tell them not to expect me." + +Peter offered his arm to his companion. She seemed, indeed, to +need support. Her fingers clutched at his coat-sleeve as they +passed on to the pavement. + +"I am so glad to be no longer quite alone," she whispered. "Almost +I wish that your friend were not coming. I know that Bernadine and +you were enemies, but then you were enemies not personally, but +politically. After all, it is you who stand for the things which +have become so dear to me." + +"It is true that Bernadine and I were bitter antagonists," Peter +admitted, gravely. "Death, however, ends all that. I wish him no +further harm." + +She sighed. + +"As for me," she said, "I am growing used to being friendless. I +was friendless before Bernadine came, and latterly we have been +nothing to one another. Now, I suppose, I shall know what it is +to be an outcast once more. Did you ever hear my history, I wonder?" + +Peter shook his head. + +"Never, Baroness," he replied. "I understood, I believe, that your +marriage -" + +"My husband divorced me," she confessed, simply. "He was quite +within his rights. He was impossible. I was very young and very +sentimental. They say that Englishwomen are cold," she added. +"Perhaps that is so. People think that I look cold. Do you?" + +Sogrange suddenly opened the door of the car in which they were +already seated. She leaned back and half closed her eyes. + +"It is rather a long ride," she said, "and I am worn out. I hope +you will not mind, but for myself I cannot talk when motoring. +Smoke, if it pleases you." + +"Might one inquire as to our exact destination?" Sogrange asked. + +"We go beyond Hitchin, up the Great North Road," she told him again. +"The house is called the High House. It stands in the middle of a +heath and I think it is the loneliest and most miserable place that +was ever built. I hate it and I am frightened in it. For some +reason or other, it suited Bernadine, but that is all over now." + +The little party of three relapsed into silence. The car, driven +carefully enough through the busy streets, gradually increased its +pace as they drew clear of the suburbs. Peter leaned back in his +place, thinking. Bernadine was dead! Nothing else would have +convinced him so utterly of the fact as that simple sentence in the +Daily Telegraph, which had been followed up by a confirmation and a +brief obituary notice in all the evening papers. Curiously enough, +the fact seemed to have drawn a certain spice out of even this +adventure; to point, indeed, to a certain monotony in the future. +Their present enterprise, important though it might turn out to be, +was nothing to be proud of. A woman, greedy for gold, was selling +her lover's secrets before the breath was out of his body. Peter +turned in his cushioned seat to look at her. Without doubt, she +was beautiful to one who understood, beautiful in a strange, +colorless, feline fashion, the beauty of soft limbs, soft movements, +a caressing voice, with always the promise beyond of more than the +actual words. Her eyes now were closed, her face was a little weary. +Did she really rest, Peter wondered? He watched the rising and +falling of her bosom, the quivering now and then of her eyelids. +She had indeed the appearance of a woman who had suffered. + +The car rushed on into the darkness. Behind them lay that restless +phantasmagoria of lights streaming to the sky. In front, blank +space. Peter, through half-closed eyes, watched the woman by his +side. From the moment of her entrance into his library, he had +summed her up in his mind with a single word. She was, beyond a +doubt, an adventuress. No woman could have proposed the things +which she had proposed, who was not of that ilk. Yet for that +reason it behooved them to have a care in their dealings with her. +At her instigation they had set out upon this adventure, which +might well turn out according to any fashion that she chose. Yet +without Bernadine what could she do? She was not the woman to +carry on the work which he had left behind, for the love of him. +Her words had been frank, her action shameful but natural. +Bernadine was dead and she had realized quickly enough the best +market for his secrets. In a few days' time his friends would have +come and she would have received nothing. He told himself that he +was foolish to doubt her. There was not a flaw in the sequence of +events, no possible reason for the suspicions which yet lingered at +the back of his brain. Intrigue, it was certain, was to her as the +breath of her body. He was perfectly willing to believe that the +death of Bernadine would have affected her little more than the +sweeping aside of a fly. His very common sense bade him accept her +story. + +By degrees he became drowsy. Suddenly he was startled into a very +wide-awake state. Through half-closed eyes he had seen Sogrange +draw a sheet of paper from his pocket, a gold pencil from his chain, +and commence to write. In the middle of a sentence, his eyes were +abruptly lifted. He was looking at the Baroness. Peter, too, turned +his head; he, also, looked at the Baroness. Without a doubt, she had +been watching both of them. Sogrange's pencil continued its task, +only he traced no more characters. Instead, he seemed to be sketching +a face, which presently he tore carefully up into small pieces and +destroyed. He did not even glance towards Peter, but Peter +understood very well what had happened. He had been about to send him +a message, but had found the Baroness watching. Peter was fully awake +now. His faint sense of suspicion had deepened into a positive +foreboding. He had a reckless desire to stop the car, to descend upon +the road and let the secrets of Bernadine go where they would. Then +his natural love of adventure blazed up once more. His moment of +weakness had passed. The thrill was in his blood, his nerves were +tightened. He was ready for what might come, seemingly still half +asleep, yet, indeed, with every sense of intuition and observation +keenly alert. + +Sogrange leaned over from his place. + +"It is a lonely country, this, into which we are coming, madame," +he remarked. + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Indeed, it is not so lonely here as you will think it when we +arrive at our destination," she replied. "There are houses here, +but they are hidden by the trees. There are no houses near us." + +She rubbed the pane with her hand. + +"We are, I believe, very nearly there," she said. "This is the +nearest village. Afterwards, we just climb a hill and about half +a mile along the top of it is the High House." + +"And the name of the village," Sogrange inquired. + +"St Mary's," she told him, "In the summer people call it beautiful +around here. To me it is the most melancholy spot I ever saw. +There is so much rain, and one hears the drip, drip in the trees +all the day long. Alone I could not bear it. To-morrow or the +next day I shall pack up my belongings and come to London. I am, +unfortunately," she added, with a little sigh, "very, very poor, +but it is my hope that you may find the papers, of which I have +spoken to you, valuable." + +Sogrange smiled faintly. Peter and he could scarcely forbear to +exchange a single glance. The woman's candor was almost brutal. +She read their thoughts. + +"We ascend the hill," she continued. "We draw now very near to the +end of our journey. There is still one thing I would say to you. +Do not think too badly of me for what I am about to do. To +Bernadine, while he lived, I was faithful. Many a time I could have +told you of his plans and demanded a great sum of money, and you +would have given it me willingly, but my lips were sealed because, +in a way, I loved him. While he lived I gave him what I owed. +To-day he is dead, and, whatever I do, it cannot concern him any +more. To-day I am a free woman and I take the side I choose." + +"Dear madame," he replied, "what you have proposed to us is, after +all, quite natural and very gracious. If one has a fear at all +about the matter, it is as to the importance of these documents you +speak of. Bernadine, I know, has dealt in great affairs; but he +was a diplomat by instinct, experienced and calculating. One does +not keep incriminating papers." + +She leaned a little forward. The car had swung round a corner now +and was making its way up an avenue as dark as pitch. + +"The wisest of us, Monsieur le Marquis," she whispered, "reckon +sometimes without that one element of sudden death. What should +you say, I wonder, to a list of agents in France pledged to +circulate in certain places literature of an infamous sort? What +should you say, monsieur, to a copy of a secret report of your late +maneuvers, franked with the name of one of your own staff officers? +What should you say," she went on, "to a list of Socialist deputies +with amounts against their name, amounts paid in hard cash? Are +these of no importance to you?" + +"Madame," Sogrange answered, simply, "for such information, if it +were genuine, it would be hard to mention a price which we should +not be prepared to pay." + +The car came to a sudden standstill. The first impression of the +two men was that the Baroness had exaggerated the loneliness and +desolation of the place. There was nothing mysterious or forbidding +about the plain, brownstone house before which they had stopped. +The windows were streaming with light; the hall door, already thrown +open, disclosed a very comfortable hall, brilliantly illuminated. +A man-servant assisted his mistress to alight, another ushered them +in. In the background were other servants. The Baroness glanced at +the clock. + +"About dinner, Carl?" she asked. + +"It waits for madame," the man answered. + +She nodded. + +"Take care of these gentlemen till I descend," she ordered. "You +will not mind?" she added, turning pleadingly to Sogrange. "To-day +I have eaten nothing. I am faint with hunger. Afterwards, it will +be a matter but of half an hour. You can be in London again by ten +o'clock." + +"As you will, madame," Sogrange replied. "We are greatly indebted +to you for your hospitality. But for costume, you understand that +we are as we are?" + +"It is perfectly understood," she assured him. "For myself, I +rejoin you in ten minutes. A loose gown, that is all." + +Sogrange and Peter were shown into a modern bathroom by a servant +who was so anxious to wait upon them that they had difficulty in +sending him away. As soon as he was gone and the door closed +behind him, Peter put his foot against it and turned the key. + +"You were going to write something to me in the car?" + +Sogrange nodded. + +"There was a moment," he admitted, "when I had a suspicion. It has +passed. This woman is no Roman. She sells the secrets of Bernadine +as she would sell herself. Nevertheless, it is well always to be +prepared. There were probably others beside Bernadine who had the +entree here." + +"The only suspicious circumstance which I have noticed," Peter +remarked, "is the number of men-servants. I have seen five already." + +"It is only fair to remember," Sogrange reminded him, "that the +Baroness herself told us that there were no other save men-servants +here and that they were all spies. Without a master, I cannot see +that they are dangerous. One needs, however, to watch all the time." + +"If you see anything suspicious," Peter said, "tap the table with +your forefinger. Personally, I will admit that I have had my doubts +of the Baroness, but on the whole I have come to the conclusion that +they were groundless. She is not the sort of woman to take up a +vendetta, especially an unprofitable one." + +"She is an exceedingly dangerous person for an impressionable man +like myself," Sogrange remarked, arranging his tie. + +The butler fetched them in a very few moments and showed them into +a pleasantly-furnished library, where he mixed cocktails for them +from a collection of bottles upon the sideboard. He was quite +friendly and inclined to be loquacious, although he spoke with a +slight foreign accent. The house belonged to an English gentleman +from whom the honored Count had taken it, furnished. They were two +miles from a station and a mile from the village. It was a lonely +part, but there were always people coming or going. With one's +work one scarcely noticed it. He was gratified that the gentlemen +found his cocktails so excellent. Perhaps he might be permitted +the high honor of mixing them another? It was a day, this, of +deep sadness and gloom. One needed to drink something, indeed, to +forget the terrible thing which had happened. The Count had been +a good master, a little impatient sometimes, but kind-hearted. The +news had been a shock to them all. + + +Then, before they had expected her, the Baroness reappeared. She +wore a wonderful gray gown which seemed to be made in a single piece, +a gown which fitted her tightly, and yet gave her the curious +appearance of a woman walking without the burden of clothes. +Sogrange, Parisian to the finger-tips, watched her with admiring +approval. She laid her fingers upon his arm, although it was +towards Peter that her eyes traveled. + +"Will you take me in, Marquis?" she begged. "It is the only +formality we will allow ourselves." + +They entered a long, low dining-room, paneled with oak, and with +the family portraits of the owner of the house still left upon the +wall. Dinner was served upon a round table and was laid for four. +There was a profusion of silver, very beautiful glass, and a +wonderful cluster of orchids. The Marquis, as he handed his +hostess to her chair, glanced towards the vacant place. + +"It is for my companion, an Austrian lady," she explained. "To-night, +however, I think that she will not come. She was a distant +connection of Bernadine's and she is much upset. We leave her place +and see. You will sit on my other side, Baron." + +The fingers which touched Peter's arm brushed his hand, and were +withdrawn as though with reluctance. She sank into her chair with +a little sigh. + +"It is charming of you two, this," she declared, softly. "You help +me through this night of solitude and sadness. What I should do if +I were alone, I cannot tell. You must drink with me a toast, if +you will. Will you make it to our better acquaintance?" + +No soup had been offered and champagne was served with the hors +d'oeuvre. Peter raised his glass and looked into the eyes of the +woman who was leaning so closely towards him that her soft breath +fell upon his cheek. She whispered something in his ear. For a +moment, perhaps, he was carried away, but for a moment only. Then +Sogrange's voice and the beat of his forefinger upon the table +stiffened him into sudden alertness. They heard a motor car draw +up outside. + +"Who can it be?" the Baroness exclaimed, setting her glass down +abruptly. + +"It is, perhaps, our fourth guest who arrives," Sogrange remarked. + +They all three listened, Peter and Sogrange with their glasses +still suspended in the air. + +"Our fourth guest?" the Baroness repeated. "Madame von Estenier +is upstairs, lying down. I cannot tell who this may be." + +Her lips were parted. The lines of her forehead had suddenly +appeared. Her eyes were turned toward the door, hard and bright. +Then the glass which she had nervously picked up again and was +holding between her fingers, fell on to the tablecloth with a +little crash, and the yellow wine ran bubbling on to her plate. +Her scream echoed to the roof and rang through the room. It was +Bernadine who stood there in the doorway, Bernadine in a long +traveling ulster and the air of one newly arrived from a journey. +They all three looked at him, but there was not one who spoke. +The Baroness, after her one wild cry, was dumb. + +"I am indeed fortunate," Bernadine said. "You have as yet, I see, +scarcely commenced. You probably expected me. I am charmed to +find so agreeable a party awaiting my arrival." + +He divested himself of his ulster and threw it across the arm of +the butler, who stood behind him. + +"Come," he continued; "for a man who has just been killed in a +railway accident, I find myself with an appetite. A glass of wine, +Carl. I do not know what that toast was, the drinking of which +my coming interrupted, but let us all drink it together. Aimee, my +love to you, dear. Let me congratulate you upon the fortitude and +courage with which you ignored those lying reports of my death. I +had fears that I might find you alone in a darkened room, with +tear-stained eyes and sal volatile by your side. This is infinitely +better. Gentlemen, you are welcome." + +Sogrange lifted his glass and bowed courteously. Peter followed +suit. + +"Really," Sogrange murmured, "the Press nowadays becomes more +unreliable every day. It is apparent, my dear Von Hern, that this +account of your death was, to say the least of it, exaggerated." + +Peter said nothing. His eyes were fixed upon the Baroness. She +sat in her chair quite motionless, but her face had become like +the face of some graven image. She looked at Bernadine, but her +eyes said nothing. Every glint of expression seemed to have left +her features. Since that one wild shriek she had remained voiceless. +Encompassed by danger though he knew they now must be, Peter found +himself possessed by one thought only. Was this a trap into which +they had fallen, or was the woman, too, deceived? + +"You bring later news from Paris than I myself," Sogrange proceeded, +helping himself to one of the dishes which a footman was passing +round. "How did you reach the coast? The evening papers stated +distinctly that since the accident no attempt had been made to run +trains." + +"By motor car from Chantilly," Bernadine replied. "I had the +misfortune to lose my servant, who was wearing my coat, and who, I +gather from the newspaper reports, was mistaken for me. I myself +was unhurt. I hired a motor car and drove to Boulogne - not the +best of journeys, let me tell you, for we broke down three times. +There was no steamer there, but I hired a fishing boat, which +brought me across the Channel in something under eight hours. From +the coast I motored direct here. I was so anxious," he added, +raising his eyes, "to see how my dear friend - my dear Aimee - was +bearing the terrible news." + +She fluttered for a moment like a bird in a trap. Peter drew a +little sigh of relief. His self-respect was reinstated. He had +decided that she was innocent. Upon them, at least, would not fall +the ignominy of having been led into the simplest of traps by this +white-faced Delilah. The butler had brought her another glass, +which she raised to her lips. She drained its contents, but the +ghastliness of her appearance remained unchanged. Peter, watching +her, knew the signs. She was sick with terror. + +"The conditions throughout France are indeed awful," Sogrange +remarked. "They say, too, that this railway strike is only the +beginning of worse things." + +Bernadine smiled. + +"Your country, dear Marquis," he said, "is on its last legs. No +one knows better than I that it is, at the present moment, +honeycombed with sedition and anarchical impulses. The people are +rotten. For years the whole tone of France has been decadent. Its +fall must even now be close at hand." + +"You take a gloomy view of my country's future," Sogrange declared. + +"Why should one refuse to face facts?" Bernadine replied. "One does +not often talk so frankly, but we three are met together this evening +under somewhat peculiar circumstances. The days of the glory of +France are past. England has laid out her neck for the yoke of the +conqueror. Both are doomed to fall. Both are ripe for the great +humiliation. You two gentlemen whom I have the honor to receive as +my guests," he concluded, filling his glass and bowing towards them, +"in your present unfortunate predicament represent precisely the +position of your two countries." + +"Ave Caesar!" Peter muttered grimly, raising his glass to his lips. + +Bernadine accepted the challenge. + +"It is not I, alas! who may call myself Caesar," he replied, +"although it is certainly you who are about to die." + +Sogrange turned to the man who stood behind his chair. + +"If I might trouble you for a little dry toast?" he inquired. "A +modern but very uncomfortable ailment," he added, with a sigh. +"One's digestion must march with the years, I suppose." + +Bernadine smiled. + +"Your toast you shall have, with pleasure, Marquis," he said, "but +as for your indigestion, do not let that trouble you any longer. +I think that I can promise you immunity from that annoying +complaint for the rest of your life." + +"You are doing your best," Peter declared, leaning back in his chair, +"to take away my appetite." + +Bernadine looked searchingly from one to the other of his two guests. + +"Yes," he admitted, "you are brave men. I do not know why I should +ever have doubted it. Your pose is excellent. I have no wish, +however, to see you buoyed up by a baseless optimism. A somewhat +remarkable chance has delivered you into my hands. You are my +prisoners. You, Peter, Baron de Grost, I have hated all my days. +You have stood between me and the achievement of some of my most +dearly-cherished tasks. Always I have said to myself that the day +of reckoning must come. It has arrived. As for you, Marquis de +Sogrange, if my personal feelings towards you are less violent, you +still represent the things absolutely inimical to me and my interests. +The departure of you two men was the one thing necessary for the +successful completion of certain tasks which I have in hand at the +present moment." + +Peter pushed away his plate. + +"You have succeeded in destroying my appetite, Count," he declared. +"Now that you have gone so far in expounding your amiable resolutions +towards us, perhaps you will go a little further and explain exactly +how, in this eminently respectable house, situated, I understand, +in an eminently respectable neighborhood, with a police station +within a mile, and a dozen or so witnesses as to our present +whereabouts, you intend to expedite our removal?" + +Bernadine pointed toward the woman who sat facing him. + +"Ask the Baroness how these things are arranged." + +They turned towards her. She fell back in her chair with a little +gasp. She had fainted. Bernadine shrugged his shoulders. The +butler and one of the footmen, who during the whole of the +conversation had stolidly proceeded with their duties, in obedience +to a gesture from their master took her up in their arms and carried +her from the room. + +"The fear has come to her, too," Bernadine murmured, softly. "It +may come to you, my brave friends, before morning." + +"It is possible," Peter answered, his hand stealing around to his +hip pocket, "but in the meantime, what is to prevent -" + +The hip pocket was empty. Peter's sentence ended abruptly. +Bernadine mocked him. + +"To prevent your shooting me in cold blood, I suppose," he remarked. +"Nothing except that my servants are too clever. No one save myself +is allowed to remain under this roof with arms in their possession. +Your pocket was probably picked before you had been in the place +five minutes. No, my dear Baron, let me assure you that escape +will not be so easy! You were always just a little inclined to be +led away by the fair sex. The best men in the world, you know, have +shared that failing, and the Baroness, alone and unprotected, had +her attractions, eh?" + +Then something happened to Peter which had happened to him barely +a dozen times in his life. He lost his temper and lost it rather +badly. Without an instant's hesitation, he caught up the decanter +which stood by his side and flung it in his host's face. Bernadine +only partly avoided it by thrusting out his arms. The neck caught +his forehead and the blood came streaming over his tie and collar. +Peter had followed the decanter with a sudden spring. His fingers +were upon Bernadine's throat and he thrust his head back. Sogrange +sprang to the door to lock it, but he was too late. The room seemed +full of men-servants. Peter was dragged away, still struggling +fiercely. + +"Tie them up!" Bernadine gasped, swaying in his chair. "Tie them +up, do you hear? Carl, give me brandy." + +He swallowed half a wineglassful of the raw spirit. His eyes were +red with fury. + +"Take them to the gun room," he ordered, "three of you to each of +them, mind. I'll shoot the man who lets either escape." + +But Peter and Sogrange were both of them too wise to expend any more +of their strength in a useless struggle. They suffered themselves +to be conducted without resistance across the white stone hall, down +a long passage, and into a room at the end, the window and fireplace +of which were both blocked up. The floor was of red flags and the +walls whitewashed. The only furniture was a couple of kitchen chairs +and a long table. The door was of stout oak and fitted with a double +lock. The sole outlet, so far as they could see, was a small round +hole at the top of the roof. The door was locked behind them. They +were alone. + +"The odd trick to Bernadine!" Peter exclaimed hoarsely, wiping a spot +of blood from his forehead. "My dear Marquis, I scarcely know how +to apologize. It is not often that I lose my temper so completely." + +"The matter seems to be of very little consequence," Sogrange answered. +"This was probably our intended destination in any case. Seems to be +rather an unfortunate expedition of ours, I am afraid." + +"One cannot reckon upon men coming back from the dead," Peter declared. +"It isn't often that you find every morning and every evening paper +mistaken. As for the woman, I believe in her. She honestly meant to +sell us those papers of Bernadine's. I believe that she, too, will +have to face a day of reckoning." + +Sogrange strolled around the room, subjecting it everywhere to a close +scrutiny. The result was hopeless. There was no method of escape +save through the door. + +"There is certainly something strange about this apartment," Peter +remarked. "It is, to say the least of it, unusual to have windows +in the roof and a door of such proportions. All the same, I think +that those threats of Bernadine's were a little strained. One +cannot get rid of one's enemies, nowadays, in the old-fashioned, +melodramatic way. Bernadine must know quite well that you and I +are not the sort of men to walk into a trap of any one's setting, +just as I am quite sure that he is not the man to risk even a +scandal by breaking the law openly." + +"You interest me," Sogrange said. "I begin to suspect that you, +too, have made some plans." + +"But naturally," Peter replied. "Once before Bernadine set a trap +for me and he nearly had a chance of sending me for a swim in the +Thames. Since then one takes precautions as a matter of course. +We were followed down here, and by this time I should imagine that +the alarm is given. If all was well, I was to have telephoned an +hour ago." + +"You are really," Sogrange declared, "quite an agreeable companion, +my dear Baron. You think of everything." + +The door was suddenly opened. Bernadine stood upon the threshold +and behind him several of the servants. + +"You will oblige me by stepping back into the study, my friends," +he ordered. + +"With great pleasure," Sogrange answered, with alacrity. "We have +no fancy for this room, I can assure you." + +Once more they crossed the stone hall and entered the room into +which they had first been shown. On the threshold, Peter stopped +short and listened. It seemed to him that from somewhere upstairs +he could hear the sound of a woman's sobs. He turned to Bernadine. + +"The Baroness is not unwell, I trust?" he asked. + +"The Baroness is as well as she is likely to be for some time," +Bernadine replied, grimly. + +They were all in the study now. Upon a table stood a telephone +instrument. Bernadine drew a small revolver from his pocket. + +"Baron de Grost," he said, "I find that you are not quite such a +fool as I thought you. Some one is ringing up for you on the +telephone. You will reply that you are well and safe and that you +will be home as soon as your business here is finished. Your wife +is at the other end. If you breathe a single word to her of your +approaching end, she shall hear through the telephone the sound of +the revolver shot that sends you to Hell." + +"Dear me," Peter protested, "I find this most unpleasant. If you +will excuse me, I don't think I'll answer the call at all." + +"You will answer it as I have directed," Bernadine insisted. "Only +remember this - if you speak a single ill-advised word, the end +will be as I have said." + +Peter picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. + +"Who is there?" he asked. + +It was Violet whose voice he heard. He listened for a moment to +her anxious flood of questions. + +"There is not the slightest cause to be alarmed, dear," he said. +"Yes, I am down at the High House, near St. Mary's. Bernadine is +here. It seems that those reports of his death were absolutely +unfounded. . . . Danger? Unprotected? Why, my dear Violet, you +know how careful I always am. Simply because Bernadine used once +to live here, and because the Baroness was his friend, I spoke to +Sir John Dory over the telephone before we left, and an escort of +half-a-dozen police followed us. They are about the place now, +I have no doubt, but their presence is quite unnecessary. I shall +be home before long, dear. . . . Yes, perhaps it would be as well +to send the car down. Any one will direct him to the house - the +High House, St. Mary's, remember. Good-by!" + +Peter replaced the receiver and turned slowly round. Bernadine was +smiling. + +"You did well to reassure your wife, even though it was a pack of +lies you told her," he remarked. + +Peter shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. + +"My dear Bernadine," he said, "up till now I have tried to take +you seriously. You are really passing the limit. I must positively +ask you to reflect a little. Do men who live the life that you and +I live, trust any one? Am I - is the Marquis de Sogrange here - +after a lifetime of experience, likely to leave the safety of our +homes in company with a lady of whom we knew nothing except that +she was your companion, without precautions? I do you the justice +to believe you a person of commonsense. I know that we are as safe +in this house as we should be in our own. War cannot be made in +this fashion in an over-policed country like England." + +"Do not be too sure," Bernadine replied. "There are secrets about +this house which have not yet been disclosed to you. There are +means, my dear Baron, of transporting you into a world where you +are likely to do much less harm than here, means ready at hand, +and which would leave no more trace behind than those crumbling +ashes can tell of the coal mine from which they came." + +Peter preserved his attitude of bland incredulity. + +"Listen," he said, drawing a whistle from his pocket, "it is just +possible that you are in earnest. I will bet you, then, if you +like, a hundred pounds, that if I blow this whistle you will either +have to open your door within five minutes or find your house +invaded by the police." + +No one spoke for several moments. The veins were standing out upon +Bernadine's forehead. + +"We have had enough of this folly," he cried. "If you refuse to +realize your position, so much the worse for you. Blow your whistle, +if you will. I am content." + +Peter waited for no second bidding. He raised the whistle to his +lips and blew it, loudly and persistently. Again there was silence. +Bernadine mocked him. + +"Try once more, dear Baron," he advised. "Your friends are perhaps +a little hard of hearing. Try once more, and when you have finished, +you and I and the Marquis de Sogrange will find our way once more to +the gun room and conclude that trifling matter of business which +brought you here." + +Again Peter blew his whistle and again the silence was broken only +by Bernadine's laugh. Suddenly, however, that laugh was checked. +Every one had turned toward the door, listening. A bell was +ringing throughout the house. + +"It is the front door!" one of the servants exclaimed. + +No one moved. As though to put the matter beyond doubt, there was +a steady knocking to be heard from the same direction. + +"It is a telegram or some late caller," Bernadine declared, hoarsely. +"Answer it, Carl. If any one would speak with the Baroness, she is +indisposed and unable to receive. If any one desires me, I am here." + +The man left the room. They heard him withdraw the chain from the +door. Bernadine wiped the sweat from his forehead as he listened. +He still gripped the revolver in his hand. Peter had changed his +position a little and was standing now behind a high-backed chair. +They heard the door creak open, a voice outside, and presently the +tramp of heavy footsteps. Peter nodded understandingly. + +"It is exactly as I told you," he said. "You were wise not to bet, +my friend." + +Again the tramp of feet in the hall. There was something +unmistakable about the sound, something final and terrifying. +Bernadine saw his triumph slipping away. Once more this man who +had defied him so persistently, was to taste the sweets of victory. +With a roar of fury he sprang across the room. He fired his revolver +twice before Sogrange, with a terrible blow, knocked his arm upwards +and sent the weapon spinning to the ceiling. Peter struck his +assailant in the mouth, but the blow seemed scarcely to check him. +They rolled on the floor together, their arms around one another's +necks. It was an affair, that, but of a moment. Peter, as lithe +as a cat, was on his feet again almost at once, with a torn collar +and an ugly mark on his face. There were strangers in the room now +and the servants had mostly slipped away during the confusion. It +was Sir John Dory himself who locked the door. Bernadine struggled +slowly to his feet. He was face to face with half a dozen police +constables in plain clothes. + +"You have a charge against this man, Baron?" the police commissioner +asked. + +Peter shook his head. + +"The quarrel between us," he replied, "is not for the police courts, +although I will confess, Sir John, that your intervention was +opportune." + +"I, on the other hand," Sogrange put in, "demand the arrest of the +Count von Hern and the seizure of all papers in this house. I am +the bearer of an autograph letter from the President of France in +connection with this matter. The Count von Hern has committed +extraditable offenses against my country. I am prepared to swear +an information to that effect." + +The police commissioner turned to Peter. + +"Your friend's name?" he demanded. + +"The Marquis de Sogrange," Peter told him. + +"He is a person of authority?" + +"To my certain knowledge," Peter replied, "he has the implicit +confidence of the French Government." + +Sir John Dory made a sign. In another moment Bernadine would have +been arrested. It seemed, indeed, as though nothing could save +him now from this crowning humiliation. He himself, white and +furious, was at a loss how to deal with an unexpected situation. +Suddenly a thing happened stranger than any one of them there had +ever dreamed of, so strange that even men such as Peter, Sogrange +and Dory, whose nerves were of iron, faced one another, doubting +and amazed. The floor beneath them rocked and billowed like the +waves of a canvas sea. The windows were filled with flashes of +red light, a great fissure parted the wall, the pictures and +book-cases came crashing down beneath a shower of masonry. It was +the affair of a second. Above them shone the stars and around +them a noise like thunder. Bernadine, who alone understood, was +the first to recover himself. He stood in the midst of them, his +hands above his head, laughing as he looked around at the strange +storm, laughing like a madman. + +"The wonderful Carl," he cried. "Oh, matchless servant. Arrest me +now, if you will, you dogs of the police. Rout out my secrets, dear +Baron de Grost. Tuck them under your arm and hurry to Downing +Street. This is the hospitality of the High House, my friends. It +loves you so well that only your ashes shall leave it." + +His mouth was open for another sentence when he was struck. A whole +pillar of marble from one of the rooms above came crashing through +and buried him underneath a falling shower of masonry. Peter escaped +by a few inches. Those who were left unhurt sprang through the +yawning wall out into the garden. Sir John, Sogrange and Peter, three +of the men - one limping badly, came to a standstill in the middle of +the lawn. Before them, the house was crumbling like a pack of cards, +and louder even than the thunder of the falling structure was the +roar of the red flames. + +"The Baroness!" Peter cried, and took one leap forward. + +"I am here," she sobbed, running to them from out of the shadows. +"I have lost everything - my jewels, my clothes, all except what +I have on. They gave me but a moment's warning." + +"Is there any one else in the house?" Peter demanded. + +"No one but you who were in that room," she answered. + +"Your companion!" + +She shook her head. + +"There was no companion," she faltered. "I thought it sounded better +to speak of her. I had her place laid at table, but she never even +existed." + +Peter tore off his coat. + +"There are the others in the room!" he exclaimed. "We must go back." + +Sogrange caught him by the shoulder and pointed to a shadowy group +some distance away. + +"We are all out but Bernadine," he said. "For him were is no hope. +Quick!" + +They sprang back only just in time. The outside wall of the house +fell with a terrible crash. The room which they had quitted was +blotted now out of existence. From right and left, in all directions +along the country road, came the flashing of lights and little knots +of hurrying people. + +"It is the end!" Peter muttered. "Yesterday I should have regretted +the passing of a brave enemy. To-day I hail with joy the death of +a brute." + +The Baroness, who had been sitting upon a garden seat, sobbing, came +softly up to them. She laid her fingers upon Peter's arm imploringly. + +"You will not leave me friendless?" she begged. "The papers I +promised you are destroyed, but many of his secrets are here." + +She tapped her forehead. + +"Madame," Peter answered, "I have no wish to know them. Years ago +I swore that the passing of Bernadine should mark my own retirement +from the world in which we both lived. I shall keep my word. +To-night Bernadine is dead. To-night, Sogrange, my work is finished." +The Baroness began to sob again. + +"And I thought that you were a man," she moaned, "so gallant, so +honorable - " + +"Madame," Sogrange intervened, "I shall commend you to the pension +list of the Double-Four." + +She dried her eyes. + +"It is not money only I want," she whispered, her eyes following +Peter. + +Sogrange shook his head. + +"You have never seen the Baroness de Grost?" he asked her. + +"But no!" + +"Ah!" Sogrange murmured. . . . "Our escort, madame, is at your +service - as far as London." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext Peter Ruff and the Double Four, by Oppenheim + diff --git a/old/rff4410.zip b/old/rff4410.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d7985c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rff4410.zip |