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| author | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-09-20 18:22:01 -0700 |
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| committer | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-09-20 18:22:01 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/76903-0.txt b/76903-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f11fc4 --- /dev/null +++ b/76903-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8445 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76903 *** + + + + + + THE COPPER HOUSE + + _A Detective Story_ + + BY JULIUS REGIS + + AUTHOR OF "NO. 13 TORONI" + + NEW YORK + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + 1923 + + Copyright, 1923, + By + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + _First Printing, September, 1923_ + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PART I THE WHIRLPOOL + + PROLOGUE + +I. BARON FREDERICK FAYERLING WAITS IN VAIN FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT +DOCUMENT IN EUROPE + +II. A YOUNG MAN ARRIVES FROM CALIFORNIA, AND HEARS SOME UNEXPECTED NEWS + +III. WALLION MEETS B. 22, AND CERTAIN REMARKABLE EPISODES IN A GREAT +MAN'S CAREER ARE DESCRIBED WITH THE DESIRED EFFECT + +IV. LEONARD GRATH ACTS ON HIS OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND MEETS WITH A GIRL +WHO RUNS AWAY FROM HIM + +V. IN WHICH IT IS OBVIOUS THAT THE OWNER IS A GUEST IN HIS OWN HOUSE + +VI. THE PROBLEM-HUNTER + +VII. THE SLAYERS + + + PART II + + THE TWENTIETH OF JULY + +VIII. LONA IVANOVNA ASKS HER FIRST QUESTION + +IX. UNREST IN BOTH CAMPS; AN OUTPOST SKIRMISH AND A WARNING + +X. THE SITUATION BECOMES ACUTE + +XI. MAURICE WALLION LOOKS ABOUT HIM A BIT AND MAKES A NEW ACQUAINTANCE + +XII. IN WHICH WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF THE SHADOW OF NAPOLEON THE GREAT + +XIII. LONA IVANOVNA ASKS A SECOND QUESTION AND GETS AN UNEXPECTED REPLY + +XIV. THE STORY OF THE BERNIN FAMILY + + + PART III + + GABRIEL ORTIZ + +XV. THE STORM BURSTS + +XVI. GABRIEL ORTIZ MUSTERS HIS FORCES AND COUNTS HIS PRISONERS + +XVII. LEO AND SONIA DETERMINE TO STEAL A MOTOR-CAR BUT FALL INTO AN +UNEXPECTED TRAP + +XVIII. TARRASCHIN'S MEMORANDUM CHANGES OWNERS + +XIX. WALLION SPEAKS OUT AND RASTAKOV IS BALKED OF HIS PREY + +XX. IN WHICH WALLION SHOWS THAT A GREAT DEAL CAN BE DONE IN TEN MINUTES + +XXI. THE END OF A GLORIOUS DREAM + + + + + _Part I--The Whirlpool_ + + + + + PROLOGUE + + +This is the story of a great peril, and how it was averted. + +It is surprising to think how few persons were aware of this peril, or +had any suspicion of the extraordinary events that were taking place in +Stockholm during the fateful year 1917. + +Nevertheless, at the beginning of the year, a little weekly newspaper +published a very striking open letter, entitled: "Who is the Man in the +Whirlpool?" + +To whom was it addressed? There was no indication, but the writer was +evidently inspired by a deep and growing conviction of impending evil. +The article ran as follows: + + Have we lost all power of distinguishing between essentials and + non-essentials? Stockholm has become a caravanserai, a link between + East and West, a central clearing-house for all those who, under + various disguises and with varying aims, seek to enrich themselves + in the blood-stained arena of War. Can no one foresee what sort + of crop must ultimately spring from this strife-sodden soil? It + is tragic, while almost laughable, to see how people persist in + labeling as 'espionage' every new development whose purpose is + unintelligible to them, in the same way that they would probably + account for all unexplained conflagrations with the glib verdict: + 'a short-circuit.' + + What _is_ espionage? Of course, it exists. But is there nothing + more? + + Chips from many kinds of timber float on the surface of the + whirlpool. What a medley of strange faces, which nobody recognizes, + bob up from its mysterious depths! + + The short-sighted public are content to go on believing that in + Stockholm, where secret committees and conferences, planners and + plotters from every quarter of the earth, are struggling together + for the mastery, these dark deeds are one and all the work of + secret agents of the belligerent powers. + + Yet it is as certain as a problem of Euclid that at the vortex of + the Whirlpool we shall find a group of intelligences working solely + for their own interests. Let us suppose that amongst these, _one_ + alone is to be found who is strong enough to fight his way through + chaos, or rather let us say, to _dominate_ chaos. Would not such a + man establish himself at the very heart of the Whirlpool, to direct + the various powers of destruction whither he will? + + We need not limit ourselves to supposition: _He exists_. We do not + know who he is, and it is possible that his plans are known to no + one besides himself. The air is full of rumors, and no one can + tell what the future may bring forth. There is enough to show that + a powerful will is evidently directing the activities of many of + these lawless phenomena. Who is the Man in the Whirlpool? + + Can no one answer the question before it is too late? For he + certainly exists. + +This appeal fell on deaf ears. The few who read it shook their heads, +and laughed. The newspaper relapsed into silence with its next number. + +To this very day, nobody knows who wrote the article, though Maurice +Wallion can make a pretty shrewd guess. The article does not affect +our story except as an example of the characteristic and frequently +recurring collapse which precedes the fulfilment of a truth, as the +prophetic slump gives warning of a financial crisis. It is known now +that there _was_ a Man in the Whirlpool, and in order to give an +account of that daring adventurer's gigantic attempt to organize chaos, +the author has had recourse to the evidence of a number of persons, +in particular Messrs. Wallion and Raebel, and, above all, Mr. Leonard +Grath. + +But we must tell our tale methodically, and many things happened before +the actual appearance of the arch-villain himself. The story opens, +appropriately, with the arrival of two of the principal characters +in Stockholm, that is to say, on July 19th, 1917. From that moment, +the depths begin to seethe, the catastrophe looms nearer, and a Face +appears amidst the foaming waters.... + +The curtain rises.... + + + + + CHAPTER I + + _Baron Frederick Fayerling waits in vain for the most important + document in Europe_ + + +"Well, what else?" + +Baron Frederick Fayerling had a way of addressing his subordinates as +though he were cracking a dog-whip. He was standing by his writing +table, a strongly-built man of medium height, with cold blue eyes, and +a beard in the style that D'Annunzio brought into fashion. As he looked +down at the man who sat on a chair close by, he folded his arms, with a +look of disgust, as though he were thinking: "What a face! The fellow +is a regular freak." + +The baron's well-kept teeth showed slightly, and the whip cracked +again. "Next! The report on Tarraschin's memorandum." + +The man on the chair, who was slowly and sullenly twisting his hat in +his fingers, murmured in reply: "You forget, sir, that we are in a +hotel bedroom, with all sorts of folk within earshot." + +"And _you_ forget, that when I wish to hear a report, you have only +to obey my orders. What's wrong with a room in a hotel? Stockholm +is absolutely full of spies and adventurers: so much the better for +you--there is safety in numbers. Go ahead!" The fellow cringed to the +lash, and made a start. "The man whom you expect is called Bernard +Jenin," he said rapidly and softly. "I made his acquaintance, as you +instructed me, and gained his confidence to a considerable extent. He +is quite young, and was traveling to Sweden by way of Finland, as we +anticipated; I was his only companion in the north-bound train. I am +absolutely convinced that he is in possession of the document: but he +is cautious. I gathered that he is an ardent admirer of Kerensky, but +as a matter of fact, he comes as a hunted fugitive from Russia." + +"Did you manage to get a photograph of him?" + +"Yes, easily: here it is." + +Baron Fayerling took the snapshot and examined it closely. It showed +a portion of the gangway outside a railway carriage; a man, wearing +a very thin, almost ragged overcoat, was leaning against the iron +railing, and gazing dreamily at the landscape through which he was +passing; his clean-shaven face, with its broad brow and small mouth, +was youthful-looking and attractive, but with a striking expression of +calm resignation and patient expectation; his dark eyes were encircled +by a network of very fine wrinkles, which might be the result of bodily +suffering, or of many years of anxiety and strife. + +"He looks weak," remarked the baron, throwing the photograph on one +side. "It should not be difficult to--persuade him. Were you able to +make any overtures to him?" + +"No, he is not to be got at in that way; he is an honest revolutionary." + +The baron laughed a little. "Honest? A dangerous attribute in these +days of war! Where is he now?" + +"As soon as Bernard Jenin and I arrived at Stockholm this morning, +Rastakov took charge. Jenin believes that I am associated with his +friends; I have no idea who his friends are, I never saw him speak to +anybody or write a letter, but I persuaded him to engage a room in this +hotel, and to await a visit from a common acquaintance, who will give +him some important news." + +"In this very hotel?" asked the baron sharply. + +"Yes, he is at the present minute in room No. 23." + +"Ah, in 23, that's better. Have you arranged that our friends should +keep on the adjoining rooms?" + +"Yes, all is in order." + +Baron Fayerling nodded approvingly, and the man began to twirl his hat +a little faster. His employer, who could read the signs of the times, +smiled contemptuously, took out some banknotes and threw them down on +the table. + +"There you are!" said he. "One thing more: you have been in Finland +since the beginning of January; what is your number there?" + +"B.22," replied the man, gathering the notes together with a sort of +enveloping maneuver. + +"That is all right; in other words, we shall not require you here any +longer." + +B.22 rose obediently and went towards the door. + +"Send Rastakov here!" was the baron's parting salutation. + +The man disappeared, and two minutes later another person entered, +closing the door quietly after him. He was a tall, dark, taciturn +fellow, a regular Slav in appearance, about thirty years of age, with +bold, resolute eyes, and a touch of self-satisfied impudence in his +look. + +The baron's expression had altered, and he now spoke in a frank, +friendly tone. + +"Good morning, Rastakov, did you meet B.22?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you verify his reports?" + +"Yes, they are correct." + +"Good; I don't trust the fellow any longer, and for the future he must +be under supervision. Bernard Jenin is installed in room 23--with the +most important paper in Europe in his possession, and now, Rastakov, +the great thing is to get hold of it. If you are prepared to risk +something for our cause, that paper should be in our hands in an hour's +time." + +Rastakov made no reply, but he tightened his thin lips with a look of +determination. + +"Have you warned all our friends?" inquired the baron. + +"Yes, they will keep out of the way till it is done." + +"And you have nothing about you which would compromise us, should you +fail?" + +"I am not a child!" + +"Go in five minutes' time to Jenin's room, introduce yourself as the +friend of whom B.22 spoke to him, and talk to him for a bit in such +a way as not to arouse his suspicions, though he may feel a little +puzzled. Then act as swiftly and silently as circumstances permit. I +will give you a quarter of an hour. When you come out of the room, I +shall be sitting in one of the wicker chairs near the staircase: you +must pass me, and if you have the paper, bow slightly, and walk slowly +out towards the Park, where I will join you in an hour's time." + +The baron walked up to Rastakov, and looked meaningly at him: "If +anything goes wrong, you must look out for yourself," he added: "you +know our rules?" + +"Yes," replied the other without flinching: "you need not remind me of +them." And without another word, he left the room. The baron looked +after him; his face resumed its usual cynical expression, and he +laughed. "Poor fool!" he said half-aloud. + +He looked at the clock: it was half-past twelve. He yawned, examined +his finger-nails, and lighted a cigar. Then he took his coat, gloves +and Panama hat, and went towards the door, which burst open as he +approached it, and a short, stout, and very fashionably-dressed man +came in. The two men stood staring at one another, without a word of +greeting. + +"Marcus Tassler," exclaimed the baron, impatiently, "what are you doing +here? Be quick, I am in a hurry." + +"Two minutes, only two minutes, baron," replied the new-comer, in an +oily, businesslike voice. His flaccid sallow face, with its thick +red lips, was as Jewish as his voice, but his hair was fair and +close-cropped. + +"I met Rastakov, and I know everything. But let me just warn you...." + +"Warn me!" interrupted the baron, "it is too late for warnings. Our +preparations are made, and must come to a head shortly; the Tarraschin +memorandum will be the corner-stone of the edifice, and then the storm +may break! If you are afraid, you had better be silent." + +"No, I am not afraid." + +"Well, what is it then?" + +Marcus Tassler drew an opened telegram from an inner pocket and struck +it with the palm of his hand. "I warn you," he said again emphatically. +"This bomb business in Christiania has compromised our position, and +there is danger in the air. Though no one may have discovered our +plans, the Press are on the alert, and sniffing suspiciously in every +direction...." + +"Much that matters!" said the baron, coolly. "The fools believe that we +are working for one of the belligerent powers, as spies and dynamiters: +let them think so. The explosions in Christiania were a blunder, but +nothing worse; the idiot who managed the affair, acted on his own +initiative; I have isolated the consequences, and directed suspicion +towards a quarter which will make the whole of Scandinavia gasp." The +baron laughed contentedly. "We are stronger than any of the Great +Powers, and our plan is the most colossal ever conceived by the brain +of one man. So why need you worry?" + +Marcus Tassler nodded, rubbed his hands, and burst out with a sort of +enthusiastic eagerness: "Yes, I admit that Gabriel Ortiz...." + +The baron shot a threatening glance at him: "Hush! Never that name, +except in a whisper, or when you are alone." + +"All right, our Chief, then. I admit that his genius seems able to +surmount any obstacle: but, baron, his genius has not yet been put to +positive proof. I am of opinion that what is just beginning...." + +"Look here, are you ever coming to the point?" + +"I begin to suspect that we have an antagonist." + +"An antagonist? Are you mad? Since nobody knows us, how can anyone +become our antagonist?" + +"You think not? How about this wire from our Agent in Göteburg?" + +"What does he say?" + +"That Leonard Grath, the owner of the Copper House, arrived in Göteburg +yesterday, and is already in Stockholm by this time." + +The baron looked serious, took the telegram himself, and read it +through. + +"You can't think that this stripling will turn out to be our +antagonist?" said he. + +"No, but the fact of his arriving in Stockholm simultaneously with +Jenin, points to a premeditated plan. You know what the Copper House +means to us. No one expected that the owner would return, at any rate +so suddenly. Do you think, baron, that someone has sent for him to +turn us out of the house--that would be a catastrophe, wouldn't it?" +The baron returned to the table, where he stood and meditated for a +short time. "The Copper House--I didn't expect that news," he murmured, +then turned round and said: "We shall find some way out of it. For the +moment, Jenin is our chief consideration. Have you taken any steps +towards having Leonard Grath met?" + +"Yes, of course he is being shadowed, and the first thing to do will be +to go through his papers." + +"Right, and try to get me a photograph of him." + +"I believe that has been seen to already." + +"Presumably he will go down to the Copper House; that cannot be +avoided, but of course he must discover nothing there." + +"That is obvious!" replied Tassler. "But suppose he _should_ find out +anything?" + +"In that case, he need not survive it. He might meet with an accident, +the sea is close by--I leave it to you to work out the details." + +As if by mutual consent, the two gentlemen avoided looking at each +other at this moment. + +"Was there anything else?" asked the baron. + +"No." + +"Then you had better go. We will meet at four this afternoon in the +usual place. Don't come again to the hotel: Rastakov is in room 23 now." + +Tassler's complexion looked paler than ever, and he did not wait to +hear any more. When the baron turned round, he had left the room. + +Baron Fayerling took a good pull at his cigar. The big hotel was very +quiet, and the atmosphere felt close and lifeless under the heated +sunblinds. Through the open windows he could hear the monotonous hum +of the street, impregnated with the warm odor of sun-baked granite and +asphalt, and punctuated by the crescendo and diminuendo of the trams, +as they stopped, started, and rang their bells; in this third summer of +the Great War one heard rather less of the hooting of motor-cars, and +of the groaning and creaking of cables, behind the smoke-stained walls +of the central depot. The baron listened absently, whilst he bestowed +another minute's thought on Tassler. + +"They're a cowardly lot," he mused cynically. "Half of them are working +to promote their own feeble ideals, the rest care only for piling up +their banking-account, and they all imagine Ortiz to be an amiable +idiot, whose shekels will further their own ambitions. Let them muddle +along--the main thing is that we can make use of them." + +He threw his cigar into the ash-tray, and his cold, calculating eyes +glittered. "An amiable idiot? Why not? Time enough to decide about +that--afterwards." + +He left the room abruptly, closing the door behind him, and mounted +the stairs to the next floor, stopping on the landing. To the right +lay a red-carpeted corridor, similar to that in which his own room +was situated, and just at the bend of the passage he could see a door +numbered 23. This door, like all those near it, was shut, and the +corridor was empty. At the top of the stairs was a sort of recess, +with palms, three wicker armchairs, and a table with newspapers. In +the chair nearest the banisters sat a gentleman reading one of the +papers. The baron frowned: he would have preferred to find the place +unoccupied; still, not the ghost of a sound was to be heard from No. +23, and with a comforting recollection of Rastakov's proved skill +in transacting his business quietly and swiftly, he sat calmly down +on one of the chairs, and resigned himself to wait. He cast a hasty +glance at the reader, who appeared to be a middle-aged person, tall, +powerfully built, and very well-dressed: his face was buried in the +newspaper, and only the top of his sleek head could be seen. Then the +baron returned to his own meditations. He was surprised to find himself +a little excited: do what he would, his eyes kept straying towards +the closed door of room 23. The Tarraschin document would change the +whole situation; its possession meant an increase of power, its loss, +the renewal of such difficulties as are apt to wreck one's plans at +the last moment. To be disappointed now, when everything was ready, +and every day invaluable! Unthinkable, unless at great risk of an +even greater disaster. Peace overtures were already in the air--who +could tell, perhaps this very autumn.... The baron felt his excitement +increasing, the suspense was beginning to tell on him: what could be +the reason of Rastakov's delay! Perhaps Jenin had not the paper after +all. And so many precious months had gone by already--what was the date? + +The man reading the newspaper opposite to him, looked over the top of +it and said in a quiet, pleasant voice: "July 19th, 1917." The baron +started, and for a moment he wondered if he could have been thinking +aloud; then he said stiffly: "Were you speaking to me, sir?" "Yes," +replied the other, as pleasantly as before, "I noticed that you were +trying to make out the date of my newspaper, so I took the liberty of +supplying you with the information." + +The speaker had an intelligent, clean-shaven face, with aquiline +features, and smiling gray eyes that beamed with a keen and +irrepressible desire for information. Just now they were fixed on +Baron Fayerling with a look which that aristocrat endeavored to return +with equal self-possession. He said hastily: "I am not aware, sir, +that I asked you for any information." The other smiled, and answered +slowly: "That is true, but I am delighted to overlook the--the lack of +invitation." + +The baron suspected a hidden sarcasm in his neighbor's voice or +expression, but both were irreproachable. Confused by the situation in +which he found himself, he colored hotly, and replied sourly: "Sir, you +seem to me to be both persistent and inquisitive!" An instant later, +he realized that he had forgotten himself; but the other man did not +appear to notice what had been said: he struck a match, lighted a +cigarette, and returned to his paper as though the baron had ceased +to exist for him. The latter's self-control began to give way, and he +stared mutely at the newspaper, behind which a thin column of smoke +rose into the air. What business had the fellow on this landing? And +would Rastakov never come out of the mysterious door of room 23? The +silence seemed to become more intense with every moment that went by, +and at last the baron could stand it no longer. He got up. The reader +did not stir. He walked into the corridor and felt more comfortable now +that he was out of the other man's sight. He passed No. 23, turned and +walked past it again: not a sound to be heard. The quarter of an hour +allotted to Rastakov had expired long ago. The baron looked all round +him: not a human being was in sight. He put his ear to the key-hole: +deep silence reigned inside the room; he turned the handle: the door +was not locked. Finally he decided to enter. On the floor in front of +him lay a figure tied up like a parcel, with a handkerchief spread +over the face. The baron lifted the handkerchief, and saw Rastakov's +bloodshot eyes glaring at him in dumb fury, over a powerful gag. There +was nobody else in the room. + +A small envelope was sticking out of the prisoner's breast-pocket in +a very obvious way, and the baron noticed his own name on it. Ripping +it open, he took out a card, upon which a few lines were written in a +bold, clear hand: "Dear baron,--Bernard Jenin desires to be remembered +to you, and I return Rastakov to you undamaged, having no further use +for him. Maurice Wallion." + +The baron freed the captive, removing the gag, and cutting the cord +into fragments. Rastakov sat up, but did not speak. + +"Don't sit there, rubbing yourself like an ass!" exclaimed the baron. +"What have you done?" + +"Done?--nothing!" sputtered Rastakov. + +"So I see. Speak out, man, what have you to say for yourself?" + +Rastakov was like a madman: he beat his fists on the floor and shouted: +"The devil take the room, and Jenin too! I came straight here, and +nobody was about, except a man who was sitting by the staircase, +reading the paper. I opened the door, and saw Jenin walking towards the +window, and I saw nothing more, for somebody seized me by the arms from +behind, threw me on the floor, and had muffled me up before I had the +chance to get a sight of him. I am no weakling, but he must have been +twice as strong. When he had bound and gagged me, he suddenly threw a +cloth over my face, and immediately after I heard him whispering to +Jenin. This lasted about a minute, then they left the room together, +shutting the door after them." + +"And Tarraschin's document?" + +Rastakov made an expressive gesture, and the baron seemed to see the +most important paper in Europe fluttering away into space, so near, and +yet so far. The facts seemed to confirm Tassler's warning: "There are +things which make me suspect that we have an antagonist," and as this +dawned on him, he dragged Rastakov roughly up from the floor. + +"Who is Maurice Wallion?" he demanded sharply. The other made no reply, +and the baron rushed out of the room and along to the staircase. The +mysterious newspaper reader was no longer there, but on the table lay +an envelope similar to that which he had recently taken from Rastakov's +pocket. The baron tore it open, and read: "P.S.--I waited to see you in +actual communication with room 23. I am indeed _persistent_ when I have +to deal with those who traffic in criminal mysteries, and _inquisitive_ +about abuses which I intend to expose. Maurice Wallion." + +Baron Fayerling was no coward, but for a second even his blood ran +cold, and he felt the first gusts of possible defeat moaning round him. +But the blast subsided: he was himself again. Rastakov now joined him +and he said to him: "Take the next train to the Copper House. I will +telephone further orders this afternoon." + +With these words, he too went his way. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + _A young man arrives from California, and hears some unexpected + news_ + + +Mr. Burchardt the lawyer sat as stolidly as a grandfather clock beside +his writing-table, and stared over his spectacles at Leonard Grath. It +was an odd sort of reception for a lively young fellow who had just +arrived from the other side of the globe, and Leonard Grath burst out +laughing. + +"What's wrong?" he inquired. + +There was no harm in Leo, but he was young: to be quite accurate, +twenty-six years of age. He was of medium height, well-made, with an +honest, sunburnt face, merry blue eyes, brown hair, worn rather long +as a tribute to his artistic propensities, and a large but sensitive +mouth; to complete the description, he had the restless, flexible +hands of an artist, a clear, confident voice, and just the least touch +of foppishness in his appearance. The youth was no paragon; he was a +happy-go-lucky fellow, not only in his artistic fancies, but in every +detail of his daily life. + +"Wrong?" echoed the lawyer, and a look of something like emotion +flitted over his stolid features. "Things are no worse than they have +been all along, but they are quite bad enough, Leo." + +"Now for a homily!" muttered the young man, "and the title is: 'On the +danger of getting into debt.'" + +Mr. Burchardt looked pained. + +"My dear Leo," said he, gravely, "you have not been much troubled with +advice from me for some time: it must be quite six years since I last +saw you. I suppose you remember that I have been the adviser of your +family for the last thirty years. To all intents and purposes I have +stood to you _in loco parentis_. Your only belongings are your Aunt +Fernanda, her children and grandchildren in California, where you have +stayed for so long that we began to wonder if you ever intended to come +home...." + +"Well, what of that? The Copper House couldn't run away from me." + +"The Copper House _has_ run away from you!" retorted the lawyer +sharply. Leonard looked serious, and settled himself more firmly in his +chair. + +"That's impossible," he faltered. + +"My letter concerned the Copper House," continued Mr. Burchardt. "I +posted it to your address in Los Angeles, but you had already left. You +have got home in the nick of time--for some things," he added, rather +bitterly. + +"I arrived in Sweden yesterday," said Leo. "I had a fancy to take a +peep at the Copper House, and so I came over." + +"And so you came over," echoed the lawyer, with a wry face. "It is a +pity that the fancy did not seize you sooner. I fear that the Copper +House is no longer yours, Leo, and that's the truth." + +The young man colored up like a schoolboy, and said huskily: "Was that +what your letter was about?" + +"Yes, I wrote to request your consent to the sale of the Copper House." + +"The Copper House for sale?" + +"You may regard it as sold, my lad." + +"What the devil do you mean?" cried Leo, springing up from his chair. + +"What else can you expect, when a property has been neglected for +three generations? Your grandfather spent the whole of his life +abroad, and married in California, where he settled. When he died, +Karka was mortgaged for half its value, although his sister worked +herself to skin and bone in her efforts to reduce expenses. Your father +certainly remained at home, but he entertained very lavishly, and his +tobacco-growing hobby, which started very hopefully, proved a very +costly failure. You inherited your grandfather's love of travel, and +your idea of managing an estate apparently consists in telegraphing +incessantly for money from the four quarters of the earth. During the +last thirty years, I have warned first your father and then you how +things were going. Then the War broke out, and now matters have come +to a crisis. I can assure you, I have done my utmost to stave off the +debts...." + +Leo had been drumming on the window-pane, and now he turned round and +said: "I know you have; I'm not trying to excuse myself." + +The lawyer nodded, and continued in a slightly mollified tone: "I had +not put up the property for sale, but at the end of March a purchaser +appeared unexpectedly, and made a good--an uncommonly good offer, which +we have no choice but to accept. I have drawn up the contract already, +and was only awaiting your consent to my signature, but since you are +back, you can sign it yourself." + +"My signature!" repeated the young man. He was filled with a sullen, +boyish despair at the thought that, by a stroke of the pen, he +must sign away the property which had been in his family for eight +generations, and lose the old home which was the shrine of his childish +memories. + +"It can't be true, it's impossible!" he burst out. + +The lawyer looked at him as though he were taking a careful inventory +of the young man's weakness and lack of resource in this unforeseen +emergency. + +"Unfortunately it is only too possible," he said gently. The official +atmosphere of Mr. Burchardt's private room began to irritate Leo like +the touch of a hair shirt on a sensitive skin, and as the lawyer turned +suggestively towards his deed-box, the young man said hastily, almost +incoherently, as if attempting to stave off inevitable doom: "No, not +yet! Give me a little time to get accustomed to the idea. I must have +one more look at the Copper House whilst it is still mine...." + +Burchardt looked thoughtful. Inwardly, he was deeply touched, but his +severe expression remained unaltered, and he said to himself: "What a +pity the scatter-brained fellow did not make a rich marriage, while +there was time." + +Aloud he remarked: "As you wish. But I have not told you everything +yet. As you know, the Copper House, that is, the house itself, was let +in the summer of 1915 to a person named Andrei Bernin. He is a Russian +author, though I believe he has naturalized himself as a Swede, and +he is living in the Copper House with his sister and his daughter. As +regards the rest of the estate, and the woods, Suneson the bailiff +continued to look after them, at any rate until last year; perhaps +you remember him--a decent, trustworthy fellow. But he left the place +very suddenly last autumn without giving notice. Andrei Bernin now +rents the whole property, but the land is lying fallow. He's a strange +sort of man--shuts himself up altogether in the Copper House; he seems +to have plenty of money, and, not content with paying rent for the +place, he has now made a very generous offer to buy it. I have never +met him personally, as he is elderly and an invalid, and blind into +the bargain; but I carry on negotiations with his friend and solicitor +Marcus Tassler, who is managing the business with the most amazing +energy...." + +"Tassler," said Leo, with a slight grimace, "is he a German?" + +"I should say he is of a sort of German-Russian-Jewish extraction, +but all the same, he is a Swedish citizen," replied the +pedantically-accurate Burchardt. "He is one of those financial experts +who have come to the front during this War, and he is the Manager of +the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company. Personally, I don't find +him particularly congenial, but he certainly looks after his friend +Bernin's interests with exemplary zeal. They have not allowed us much +time to turn round; I have been obliged to give way a little here and +there. A considerable sum of caution-money has been paid down already: +if the sale does not go through, the lease holds good, and we are bound +to undertake expensive repairs, whilst, over and above all that, we +shall be held legally responsible for allowing the land to go out of +cultivation...." + +Leo turned quickly to the window; the truth seemed to dawn upon him for +the first time, and he said: "I suppose the Copper House is filled with +these people?" + +"Yes, and all the old servants have left. We are absolutely powerless, +Leo; the sale _must_ take place!" + +"Must it?" murmured Leo, still unconvinced. "Have you anything more to +tell me?" + +"Yes. Bernin, or, more correctly, Tassler acting for him, has bought up +all the mortgages, and the largest outstanding debts on the property, +and is bringing pressure to bear on us in that way." + +Leo felt as though a net was closing round him: he was furious, and +exclaimed: "The cheek of the fellow! So he threatens me, does he? I'll +have something to say to him!" + +"It is his way, I don't blame him. At any rate, we can't quarrel with +the price he offers: it will cover all your family liabilities." + +"Will there be any surplus?" + +"About twelve thousand kroner, I should think." + +"That isn't much," remarked Leo thoughtfully. His anger had evaporated, +and he was smiling. "After all, I have always been hard-up, so there +won't be a great difference. At any rate, the Copper House still +belongs to me--nominally." + +Burchardt came up to the young man and laid a hand on his shoulder. He +had laid aside his official manner, and said kindly: "Take my advice, +Leo. Life is hard on those who make no attempt to take it seriously, +and we are living in an age when individuals as well as nations are +being tested to the fullest extent of their capabilities. You are +young, mentally and physically: that is one asset. You have had a good +education: that is another. Face the future boldly, and win yourself a +place in the sun: you _can_ do it." + +Leo looked at him: "Yes," said he, "that doesn't sound bad. But how am +I to do it?" + +"By working." + +"Painting, do you mean?" + +"I mean, by hard work." + +"Chopping wood, perhaps?" + +"By all means, if you are fit for nothing better." + +The young man stretched his arms over his head, and laughed softly; +then he began to walk up and down the room. + +"I may be a ne'er-do-well, but I am not an invertebrate," said he. +"I expected all this in a way, but I don't know how it is.... I feel +somehow relieved. At any rate, I know now just how I stand. But," he +added, with renewed vehemence, "the loss of the Copper House is an idea +that it will take me some time to digest." + +"It is too late to prevent it now, Leo." + +"That is just what makes it so hard to bear! Besides, I can't get over +the fact of such people as these taking such a fancy to the Copper +House; I'm sure there's something wrong somewhere." + +"There is nothing wrong with their money, at all events," remarked +Burchardt patiently. + +"Money!" snorted Leo, turning round. His expressive face lighted up, +and he added eagerly: "Nobody knows yet that I am in Sweden. Suppose I +go straight back to California, and try to make a fortune. How's that +for an idea?" + +The lawyer remained silent: he had not the heart to reply. But the +young man's remark reminded him of something, and he bent down and took +an envelope from his desk. + +"Somebody seems to have expected your arrival," he said, "for this +letter has been waiting for you since yesterday." + +"A letter!" repeated Leo, taking it with surprise, "so it is, and by +the postmark a local one, posted here in Stockholm. Isn't that odd!" + +He opened and read it, first to himself, then aloud: + + "MR. LEONARD GRATH, c/o Burchardt & Co., + Stockholm. + + "Sir,--Should you intend taking any steps with regard to the Copper + House, may I beg you to wait for further information from me? The + matter is serious. Above all, let nobody know that you are in + Stockholm, and on no account go out to the Copper House. Ask Mr. + Burchardt to observe similar precautions. He can tell you who I am. + + "Yours in great haste, + "MAURICE WALLION." + +Leo read these lines once again. The lawyer pricked up his ears, as if +at the sound of a bugle. "Maurice Wallion," he repeated. + +"Yes, that's the name. What's all this about? Who is the fellow, and +what does he mean?" + +Burchardt took the letter, and read it in his turn, slowly and +attentively. Leo, who was watching him, noticed that the lawyer +actually looked disturbed, almost alarmed. + +"What is it?" asked the young man, quickly. "Who on earth is Maurice +Wallion?" + +"Unexpected, perfectly unexpected!" murmured the lawyer. "Serious? Yes, +that may well be, if _he_ says so. Leo, this message comes from a man +who wishes you well. I happen to know him; few persons have met him, +but many have heard of him. They call him 'the problem-hunter,' and his +nominal occupation is that of a contributor to the _Daily Courier_. But +he is more than a journalist: he has a way of turning up on the scene +of any crime or mystery, if he thinks there is anything abnormal about +it." + +Leo smiled slightly: "That sounds very mysterious," he said, "but as I +am not guilty of any deeds of darkness, I can't say I feel particularly +alarmed...." + +"I was engaged on young Ravenscrone's case, when Wallion recovered +his estate for him," replied the lawyer gravely; "that problem was a +hundred years old: but he solved it in an hour." + +"And now I suppose he will offer to recover mine," said Leo. "Why, +what business is it of his? How did he know, to begin with, that I was +coming here?" + +"How, indeed," echoed the lawyer significantly. + +They looked at one another, and the young man's smile gave place to a +frown. "I call it either great cheek or a very poor joke for anyone to +meddle unasked in my affairs," he said, taking up the letter to put it +in his pocket-book. + +Burchardt shook his head, and at the same moment Leo uttered a cry of +vexation. "My pocket-book!" he exclaimed, "that scoundrel has stolen +it!" + +"Who has?" asked the lawyer, jumping up. + +"A man who ran into me on the stairs about half an hour ago. It can +have been no one else, for I had it in my hand not five minutes before. +He was a tall, thin fellow, with black eyes; I thought he was drunk, +for he barged right into me, without saying a word; I gave him a good +shove, and he lurched out into the street. Of course the beggar was +after my pocket-book." + +"What had you in it?" + +"Not much money, but practically all my papers, passport and +everything." + +At this minute the door opened, and one of Burchardt's clerks came in. + +"A boy has just left this parcel for Mr. Grath," he said, putting +down an oblong packet, and departing. Leo tore open the white paper, +which bore no address, and looked up with a mixture of amusement and +bewilderment in his face. + +"What's the date to-day?" he inquired. + +"July 19, 1917," replied the puzzled lawyer. + +"Make a note of it, as being a day of surprises." + +"What is it now?" + +"I have got back my pocket-book. It is here, in this parcel." + +"You don't say so! Empty, of course?" + +"No," replied Leo, after looking through it, "that is the most +surprising thing of all. Nothing is missing. He has not taken a single +thing." + +"Impossible, it's too absurd. Look again more carefully." + +Both men examined the pocket-book again, but it was as Leo had stated: +both money and papers were totally undisturbed. + +"This is certainly a very striking commentary on our friend the +'problem-hunter's' letter," remarked the young man; "is he given to +playing such tricks as these?" + +"Nonsense," said Burchardt, curtly. "His letter is a warning, and +this incident is a case in point. Some person has had recourse to an +uncommonly daring way of finding out everything that concerns you, +evidently wishing to identify you by the aid of your own papers." + +In spite of himself, Leo began to feel rather uncomfortable but he +pulled himself together, and said: "I begin to think that there is a +general conspiracy to make a fool of me: a profiteering baron wants +to compel me to sell the Copper House: a thief steals my papers, and +sends them back untouched: a problem-hunter sends me unintelligible +warnings--my poor brain is getting quite muddled! I wish I was back in +California, there are such a queer lot of folk in Sweden, since last I +was here." + +"Listen to me, Leo," said the lawyer slowly. "There is something wrong +about all this. That fellow Tassler must have some motive of which +we know nothing. The first thing for you to do is to find out what +Maurice Wallion knows." + +"I am going straight to him." + +"Now? He is not easy to get hold of, unless he wishes, but at any rate +you can try." + +"I intend to. So long, sir!" + +Leonard Grath left the lawyer's office with his usual impetuosity, +and ran whistling down the stairs. Burchardt's office was near the +Kungstrad Park, and the young man crossed the road to get into the +shade of the lime-trees. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, the +beds were gay with flowers, and a great many people were about. A +well-dressed man, carrying a small but expensive camera, passed him, +turned quickly, and raised the camera; a click, and it was done. So +rapid were the man's movements, that Leo did not at first realize that +he himself had been the target of the camera. He took the cigarette +from his mouth, and shouted: "I say, you there! You, sir!" But at that +minute the unknown photographer boarded a passing tram, and was whirled +away. + +"What next?" wondered Leo. "Another one who wants to know what I +look like! I seem to be very much in demand!" He looked round him in +perplexity, and was presently aware of an uncanny feeling that he was +being watched by someone in the crowd. Yet wherever he turned, he could +see no one whom he knew, or who appeared to recognize him. Lights and +shadows flickered through the green leaves, and the sunshine lighted +up pretty faces and summer costumes. He began to feel dazed, and sat +down on one of the green benches. "I must be dreaming," he thought. +"This is all too strange to be true. Yes, of course I am dreaming." + +He got up, walked on a short way, then stopped again. "If only I had +the smallest idea what is up!" He laughed. "I shall go and see Wallion." + +Ten minutes later he entered the offices of the _Daily Courier_, and +asked for Maurice Wallion, half-expecting to be laughed at for his +pains, and informed that no such person was known there. But the young +and energetic reporter to whom he addressed his inquiries, looked at +him attentively, and said: "Did you make an appointment to meet him +here?" + +"Not exactly." + +"Then I'm afraid it is no use your waiting." + +"But I have had a letter from him." + +"Ah, that alters the case," observed the reporter, opening an +engagement book. "What name, please?" + +"Leonard Grath," replied the other in surprise. + +"That's good!" said the reporter with a smile, immediately becoming +much more friendly in his manner; "my name is Robert Lang, and you are +expected." + +"Expected!" echoed Leo, more astonished than ever. + +"Yes, but I can tell you at once that nobody knows why, except Wallion. +I am his assistant, and I believe he is most anxious to see you. +Unfortunately he is out at present. I haven't seen him since yesterday +evening, but step into his room, and we'll see." + +They went into a small room leading off the corridor, and the cheery +young reporter went briskly to the telephone. After ringing up several +places, he said: "I can't get on to him, he is neither at his house, +nor at any of the places where we can usually get word to him. It's +always the way! Sometimes he disappears for weeks on end, and we can do +nothing but wait until he thinks fit to turn up again." + +Leo smiled, but he felt terribly disappointed. + +"The worst of it is, that there is no time to lose," he remarked. "I +fear it may be too late as it is." + +"But you hinted that Wallion knows something about it already?" + +"Yes, so I understand." + +"Then you needn't worry. He won't let it be too late." + +Robert Lang said this with a calm certainty that impressed Leo, whilst +it made him feel more curious than ever. + +"Do _you_ know what your friend the Problem-hunter wants me for?" + +"No, but that doesn't matter. I am only his assistant, his +sub-lieutenant, so to speak...." + +Here, the conversation was interrupted, as Robert Lang was called away. +Leo wandered round the room, which was filled with bookcases, files of +newspapers, and card-index cabinets. On the large writing table lay +manuscripts, photographs, foreign newspapers, and several volumes of +works of reference. The young man could see from a distance that one +of the photographs was that of a charming girl, whose dark and rather +appealing eyes seemed to be gazing right into his own. He could not +resist the temptation to pick up the portrait and examine it more +closely. + +"What a pretty girl," he thought: "brown eyes, decidedly--and black +hair:--an Italian, perhaps? Or no, more likely a Russian, with that +heart-shaped face, arched eyebrows, and audacious though sensitive +mouth." + +And here, Leo noticed something which made him open his own mouth, +and stare like one bewitched. In the lower corner of the picture was +written: + + Sonia Bernin, + THE COPPER HOUSE. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + _Wallion meets B.22, and certain remarkable episodes in a great + man's career are described, with the desired effect_ + + +Maurice Wallion quitted the neighborhood of room 23 rather hurriedly, +as soon as the baron had gone in: not from fear--there was no such +word in his vocabulary--but because, in consequence of this somewhat +unexpected commencement of hostilities, he found himself suddenly +involved in a regular network of complicated problems. + +Bernard Jenin's unexpected arrival had completely upset his plans, +and forced him to show his hand prematurely to a powerful, prompt and +intelligent adversary, who would certainly stick at nothing in the way +of frustrating him. He did not regret the opportunity of dealing the +first blow, for his frankness had probably baffled the baron at the +start; but he foresaw that the approaching struggle would be a fierce +though brief one--brief, because in the course of a few hours he must +either be definitely beaten, or in possession of the information which +would make it possible for him to place the matter in the hands of the +police. It was, therefore, important for him to get quickly and surely +to work, before Baron Fayerling had had time to call up reinforcements. + +He slipped out of the hotel, and jumped into a tram, bound for the +northern district. He wondered which way Jenin had gone, for it +disturbed him a little that he had been able to do nothing for the +unfortunate young fellow, beyond hurrying him away, with an urgent +warning to keep clear of Fayerling's spies, and in case of need to take +refuge in the offices of the _Daily Courier_. + +There was undoubtedly something mysterious about Jenin himself, but +Wallion consoled himself with the thought that the young man's fate +would soon be settled in one way or another, and he decided to mention +the matter to Robert Lang. For the time being, he had more important +business to attend to. The tram turned into Tegnér Street and he got +out. He walked slowly up the street, stopped opposite one of the ugly, +gray, five-storied houses, and began, quite unostentatiously, to watch +the windows on the first floor. + +He had known for the last month, that this was one of Ortiz's +headquarters, and he suspected that Ortiz himself had stayed there for +some time at the beginning of the year. It was ostensibly a Finnish +boarding-house, but it was not advertised as such, and there never +seemed to be any rooms to let except to lodgers recommended by the +baron or by Tassler. For the time being, the only lodgers were three +persons who had recently arrived from Russia, and had some sort of +regular work at the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company. Rastakov, +too, generally stayed there, whenever he did not happen to be at the +Copper House. Wallion took it for granted that the man who was known as +B.22, and had shadowed Jenin on his journey to Stockholm, would come +here, and he was already considering the advisability of setting Robert +Lang to watch the house, when he suddenly saw B.22 himself come out of +the door, and go quickly down the street. + +The journalist was somewhat taken aback by this unexpected apparition; +it was quite obvious that something unusual had happened to the spy, +for he kept looking round, and Wallion could see that he appeared very +nervous. + +The journalist thought for a bit. What had happened? B.22 had evidently +gone straight to the boarding-house from the hotel, and had apparently +found some trouble awaiting him. Nothing was to be seen at the windows. + +Feeling rather puzzled, he began to follow the man, who turned +hurriedly down one side street after another, behaving more and more +strangely. He stood still now and then, staring anxiously behind him +with his large dark eyes, and not taking the slightest notice of the +journalist; his hands fidgeted in and out of his coat-pockets, and his +lips moved as though he were whispering to himself. Then he darted +forward again, through a passage that intersected a corner building, +and cut across an adjoining churchyard. + +Wallion, who began to grow tired of this extraordinary game, stepped +quickly up, and tapped him on the shoulder: "Good morning, my friend," +he exclaimed, "why this hurry?" + +The man started so violently that he nearly fell; Wallion caught hold +of him. "Now then, no nonsense!" he said sternly. "I know everything, +and I want to have a talk with you. If you tell me the truth, I may be +able to help you." + +He threw out this remark by way of a feeler, but the man took it +literally; a look of relief appeared on his haggard face, and he said +doubtfully: "Are you one of Jenin's friends? I don't know you, what +do you want with me? Are you a detective, by any chance?" he added +suspiciously. + +"No, I am a newspaper reporter," said Wallion, still keeping hold of +his arm. "Come along with me." + +They went into a small, empty café, and sat down at a table in an inner +room. B.22 remained silent and watchful, but Wallion left him no time +for consideration. + +"I won't ask you your real name, B.22," said he, "but you had better +be quite straight with me, or it may be the worse for you. You have a +rotten set of friends, my lad, and it is high time you quit working +with them. Now tell me, what is going on at the boarding-house?" + +"Yes, I will tell you," the fellow burst out excitedly. "I will have no +more to do with them, they are going too far. I don't want to lose my +life...." + +His eyes were bloodshot, and he tugged at his collar as though he felt +a halter round his neck already. He flung himself suddenly across +the table, and seized the journalist by the sleeve. "Help me," he +stammered, "I am afraid of them! Ortiz is coming, and he will ruin us +all, if nobody can stop him." + +Wallion looked sharply at him. He had already observed him in the +hotel, and had formed his conclusions as to the man's character. "Since +when have you made up your mind to betray Ortiz?" + +B.22 hung his head. "Since yesterday," he replied indistinctly. "When +Bernard Jenin told me what Tarraschin's memorandum was about, I was +afraid to have anything more to do with it--it is altogether too +ghastly...." + +He really seemed to be hesitating, and Wallion decided to come to +the point quickly, for there was no time to waste in unnecessary +preliminaries. + +"How much do you know about Ortiz?" he asked. + +"I? Nothing. They told me that he was the boss, and that we were paid +with his money: and he pays well." + +Wallion made a movement of disgust. The payment seemed all that this +man cared about. + +"Have you ever seen Ortiz?" + +"No. Baron Fayerling always gave me my orders, and paid me. They say +that Ortiz is a rich and powerful man, and that he will soon be one of +the greatest persons in Europe. But I have never seen him, and I know +nothing of him." + +"Well, I am going to tell you something about him; it is because you +know so little that you are so much afraid of him. He is one of the +most daring adventurers that ever lived, and anyone who espouses his +cause is on the road to ruin." + +B.22 shuddered, and Wallion watched him narrowly. + +"Did you ever hear of the Emperor of the Amazons?" he asked. + +B.22 shook his head in surprise. + +"Emperor of the Amazons?" he repeated; "it sounds like a farce." + +"It was a farce, too, at any rate the newspapers called it so, and +it was played seven years ago. A young Brazilian millionaire who +had already made himself conspicuous by his lavish and eccentric +propensities, concluded one fine day that he could no longer endure the +restrictions of life in a community of law-abiding citizens, and his +fertile brain, which was always revolving ambitious schemes, decided to +create an absolutely new environment. + +"His name was Gabriel Napoleon Ortiz, and he was a reputed descendant +of Napoleon the Great; he had already been implicated in a formidable +scandal in Paris, where he had attempted to organize a Monarchist +rising against the Republic, in the hope of getting himself recognized +as Napoleon IV. At that time he was only a youth of nineteen, and it +was an easy matter to deport him to Brazil. But the lion's claws +were not drawn, and by degrees he gathered round him quite a number +of adventurers, who aided and abetted him in his far-reaching plans. +One day, early in 1910, he steamed away up the River Amazon in his +armored pleasure yacht, and disappeared into the interior of Brazil. +It was given out that he was subsidizing an expedition for scientific +research, but about six months later, the Brazilian Government was +astounded to receive a highly-imposing document, signed Gabriel +Napoleon I, Emperor of the Amazons, in which the new monarch stated +that he had proclaimed himself Emperor over the tracts of land at the +sources of the River Amazon, the country being rich and extensive, but +chiefly inhabited by Indians. He demanded, first, official recognition +by the Brazilian Government, secondly, free access to the River Amazon, +and thirdly, an immediate and definite revision of boundary questions. +At the same time, through the medium of the South and North American +newspapers, he invited enterprising and energetic people to settle +as colonists in his dominion, declared his intention of founding a +capital, and purchased six liners for passenger traffic down the great +river. Of course, the whole thing was impossible; nobody took the man +seriously, and the papers treated the matter as a huge joke; it was +altogether too far-fetched! Before many months had gone by, the Emperor +of the Amazons was taken into custody by Brazilian troops: he was found +at the head of an army of a hundred and twenty men, which immediately +took to flight. He was handed over to his relations, amongst whom was +the famous aëroplane-constructor Ortiz; feeling rather crestfallen, he +was obliged to consent to leave the country quietly, and nobody gave +another thought to the Empire of the Amazons." + +"Emperor of the Amazons," muttered B.22 with a laugh. "I do seem to +have a hazy recollection of it now. And so that man was Ortiz! I begin +to understand...." + +The journalist saw that his story had made an impression, and he +continued: "You will notice that this Brazilian millionaire-adventurer +was not without certain elements of greatness. Such causes as his +have prospered before now. It was only that he lived in an age when, +under normal circumstances, adventures of that kind are absurd. Public +opinion is formed by the Press, and the Press laughed the Empire of the +Amazons to scorn. Fifteen years earlier, the man might have succeeded, +but, as it was, he had learnt a dearly-bought lesson--till next time! +He had not abandoned a single detail of his great project, but he could +bide his time: he could go on with his preparations. The next act in +the drama was played in New York. Ortiz proved himself a financial +genius of the first order, floated one gigantic speculation after +another, with truly Napoleonic strategy, and was acclaimed before long +as one of Wall Street's brightest stars, or, more correctly, meteors. +Finally, he 'swung' a 'corner' in coffee with unscrupulous skill, +increased his already colossal fortune tenfold, and gained the nickname +of 'The Coffee King.' The Emperor of the Amazons had become a Coffee +King! At any rate, you can see what he was aiming at. As 'emperor' he +had brought imprisonment on at most forty persons; as 'king' he had +ruined thousands. His power for evil had increased, but it was not yet +fully developed, and the great opportunity was still to come. He does +not advance step by step, like other men. No, his ambition demands +constant movement, culminating in some tremendous display of strength. +His motto is: 'Better a grand catastrophe than a meagre victory.' Laws +do not exist for a man with such ideas, and what can those persons +expect who are bold enough to follow him as assistants or subordinates, +but a prison cell, or something even worse, for their pains?" + +B.22 was listening as though he had been hypnotized, and Wallion went +on: "After his 'coup' on the coffee market, Gabriel Ortiz disappeared +from New York. He realized his assets, and was seen no more in Wall +Street. He had attained his primary aim, and provided himself with +the means of carrying out even the wildest and most ambitious of his +dreams. The episode in the Amazons had taught him experience: in New +York he had acquired millions. He was now fully equipped, and only +waited for a favorable opportunity. In August, 1914, the Great War +broke out." + +The journalist sat silent and thoughtful for a little while. Then he +continued: "It is horrible to think that a Brazilian freebooter should +find the great chance of his lifetime in the grimmest tragedy that has +ever befallen the human race. It is true that in this war, as never +before, there have been openings for adventurers who are ready to sell +their swords or their skill to the highest bidder. + +"Within the war-area, where, as in an earthquake, all the powers +of darkness rise to the surface, Ortiz found the desired field of +operations, where he might sow his millions, and reap an abundant +harvest of power. After due calculation, he fixed upon Russia as his +objective, and Stockholm as his starting-point. How long have you been +in his service?" + +"Since October, 1915." + +"Nearly from the beginning, then. I can tell by your accent that you +are a Finn. I suppose they made you believe that you would be working +for the liberty of Finland?" + +"That was so," said B.22 in a low voice. + +"Do you still think so, now that Finland is really free, in consequence +of the March Revolution? Was that Ortiz' work?" + +The man crimsoned with rage and shame. He struck his hand on the table, +and said: "No, since I got to know the contents of the Tarraschin +document, I can see that Ortiz is neither working for freedom nor for +the Tsar: he thinks only of himself." + +"Exactly," said Wallion, coldly, "and you should have realized that +long ago." + +"How could I?" replied B.22 piteously; "I knew nothing of him, until +you told me all this. What shall I do?" + +"Don't take it so hard. You have been too easily tempted by the thought +of quickly earned money, that's all, and now you're in a fix. You +haven't told me yet what happened in the boarding-house." + +"I had only just got there," said B.22 excitedly, "when I heard the +telephone ring. One of the Russians answered it, and I was in the room +alongside. I guessed that Rastakov had rung up, and I heard the Russian +say: 'Yes, he has just come in.' They were speaking about me, and I +was alarmed to hear the man say: 'We had better shadow him; it would +be easier to get rid of him in Finland than here. Yes, we will keep an +eye on him; if he gives any trouble, we will find a way which won't +attract attention. No, he hasn't spoken to anyone yet....' Then I was +sure that my fate was sealed, and at first I felt paralyzed with fear, +but I knew that they would be after me in a few seconds, and, without +even stopping to get my knapsack, I crept downstairs, and out of the +house...." + +Wallion could not help pitying the poor fellow, who looked like a man +sentenced to death, and could hardly speak coherently. + +"Was that all?" he asked. + +"It was quite enough for me; they mean to do something dreadful.... I +am not the first...." + +"I know. I will help you on one condition: has our conversation +convinced you how necessary it is for you to tell me honestly and +openly everything that may lead to the annihilation of Ortiz and his +gang?" + +"Yes, yes, only tell me what I can do." + +"You won't only think of saving your own skin? You promise to help me +to the best of your ability?" + +"Yes, yes, that's just what I want to do; only save me!" + +The man's sincerity was undoubted; Wallion's earnestness had entirely +conquered his feeble will. He gazed at the journalist with doglike +submission, whilst the latter wrote a few lines, and his address, on a +card. + +"Take this," he said, "go straight to my house in the Valhalla Road, +and hand the card to my housekeeper. Stay there till I come. Just wait +a minute, while I telephone to her." + +B.22 seized the card with an audible sigh of relief and gratitude. +The journalist went into the outer room, and rang up his house. The +housekeeper answered, and he informed her briefly what she was to do +with B.22, and what further precautions he must observe. Then, after a +little consideration, he rang up the offices of the _Daily Courier_, +and asked for Robert Lang, who came at once to the telephone. "Has +anyone been to ask for me?" said Wallion. "What? Leonard Grath? He's +just gone? What a nuisance, I wanted particularly to see him. Don't you +know where he has gone? He really is far too headstrong to be allowed +to go off by himself, you should have kept him. No, I can't come up at +present, I must go and see what the baron and Tassler are up to, but I +want you to come at once to Tegnér Street, and find out what is going +on at the boarding-house there, if you can. It is probable that we +shall soon have to give official information to the police; we ought +to have sufficient proof in our hands in a few hours' time. Look here: +before you leave the office, arrange for somebody trustworthy--say, +Steno Beyler--to receive a young man named Bernard Jenin, who may turn +up there in the course of the day, and not to let him out of his sight +before I have had a word with him. Yes, that's all, I can tell you more +later; I've a big job on hand at present...." + +He put down the receiver, and returned to the other room, but he +stopped short on the threshold: B.22 had disappeared. A door leading +to the passage stood open, and on the table lay a paper, with a few +hurried lines scrawled upon it. Wallion snatched it up, and ran into +the passage. After glancing into the garden, which was surrounded by +a high wall, he went out into the street, but B.22 was nowhere to be +seen. Feeling very anxious, the journalist read what was written on +the paper: "I must go. One of them is outside in the churchyard, and I +am sure he has seen me at the window. If they get to know that I have +anything to do with you, they will shoot me in the street. Expect me +early--about seven--to-morrow morning." + +The journalist crumpled up the paper and put it in his pocket, after +which he lighted a cigarette. Not a single person was visible in the +whole length of the silent street. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + _Leonard Grath acts on his own responsibility, and meets with a + girl who runs away from him_ + + +Leo left the problem-hunter's room like a man in a dream. It did not +occur to him to wait for Robert Lang's return, but when he got out into +the street, he found himself still holding the photograph in his hand. +Ought he not to put it back on Wallion's table? He looked hesitatingly +at it: "Sonia Bernin, the Copper House," he read once more. "So that's +Andrei Bernin's daughter. Well, there hasn't been such a beautiful girl +in the Copper House these last fifty years!" There spoke the artist; an +ordinary man would perhaps have called the girl striking, but certainly +not beautiful. Her face was not oval, but rather of an aquiline type; +her mouth was no Cupid's bow, but boyishly firm, above a self-willed +chin. But the large, dark eyes beneath their black, wing-like brows, +had a mysterious attraction for him--it seemed as though they were +calling to him, and the artist in him listened--who knows, perhaps the +man also! + +Burchardt's story, Wallion's warnings, vanished in a moment from Leo's +mind. He put the photograph into his pocket and made his way to the +general station, where he went up to the booking-office, and demanded: +"A single to Karkby." A philosopher could no doubt draw many ingenious +deductions from this simple action, knowing that it was to influence +his future to an extraordinary degree. But Leo, who was anything but a +philosopher, did not give the matter a thought, and, having received +a scrap of brown pasteboard in exchange for a few silver coins, he +made his way past all obstructions to the platform, where the train +for Nynäs stood blowing off steam. He studied with a critical eye +the effect of the sun shining through the puffs of steam, and made a +mental note of the colors, "Pink and silver in the sunlight, violet in +the shade." With that, he got into the train. He had chosen the last +compartment, which was still quite empty, but a minute later, one other +passenger entered, and sat quietly down opposite. He was a young or +middle-aged man, in a threadbare overcoat: his tired face was pale, +almost grayish, the eyes encircled with innumerable tiny wrinkles; +the neat leathern attaché-case which he carried in his hand seemed to +cause him some anxiety, for he evidently debated with himself whether +he should put it up in the rack, then cast an uneasy glance at Leo, +and finally decided to keep it on his knee. Leo's amused expression +appeared to embarrass the man, for he stared straight in front of +him, with that air of constraint which betrays that one feels oneself +under observation. At the same time, he seemed to be listening for +something outside, and Leo heard him give a little sigh of relief when +the train gave a sudden jerk, and steamed out of the station, with +rapidly-increasing speed. They were alone in the carriage, that is, in +their half of it, for it was divided into two sections, with a gangway +between. Leo's thoughts began to wander. He felt curious and rather +excited at the thought of what he should find when he arrived at the +Copper House. The recollection that he would soon have no right to go +there made him serious again. Take it all in all, he had certainly +been a thoughtless, easy-going fellow! In a flash of clear-sighted +self-criticism, he passed the last few years in review: gay parties +at the studio in Montmartre, seaside amusements at Ostend, yachting, +tennis and garden-parties in California--one long, sunny playtime in +company with other idlers, who talked a great deal, and accomplished +little. And now, what was the result? He must sell the Copper House, +and tune his life to a new key, with less play and more work ... it was +jolly hard lines! + +The conductor came round to clip the tickets, and as Leo put his back +into his pocket, his fingers came in contact with the photograph, and +he took it out for another look. Presently he heard a movement, and +the sound of a deep breath quite close to him, and he looked up. His +fellow-passenger had bent forward, and was gazing at the photograph +with wide-open eyes, but in a second he drew back, like a snail +into its shell, without meeting Leo's inquiring glance. The man sat +perfectly motionless, with his hands on his case, staring at the +opposite wall as before, but his lips were twitching, and his face, as +Leo put it to himself, had no more color in it than a pencil drawing. +All of a sudden Leo remembered Wallion's warning, the disappearance of +his pocket-book, the man with the camera, and Burchardt's anxious face. +He felt convinced that the strange figure opposite had been desperately +startled by the sight of the photograph, and he began to feel a chill +suspicion that he was somehow or other getting entangled in a huge net, +which was gradually tightening its meshes round him. What was up? Was +everybody going crazy? + +He resolved to say something, but changed his mind as hastily, for the +other man looked as impassive as an image of Buddha. The situation was +becoming awkward, and meanwhile the train rattled on towards Nynäs +and the sea. Leo quitted the field, and took refuge at the nearest +passage-window. Refreshed by the strong sea-breeze, he made a laudable +attempt to sum up the experiences of this eventful day, but soon tired +of this, and began instead to gaze aimlessly at the passing landscape. +Could he have guessed that the most eventful part of the day was still +to come, he would perhaps have jumped out of the train then and there, +and returned to Stockholm; but, not being endowed with second-sight, +he alighted calmly at Karkby station. The first person he saw as he +reached the platform was the stranger with the attaché-case, who left +the train at the same time by another door. Leo saw him go up to the +pointsman and address him in good Swedish. Seeing a look of surprise +pass over the pointsman's face, the young man could not repress his +curiosity but strolled past them, and heard the pointsman exclaim: +"Well, if it's to the Copper House you are going, I doubt if you'll +find yourself very welcome." + +"You think not?" said the man, in a low, nervous voice; "may I venture +to ask why?" + +"We never hear of there being any entertaining out there nowadays: a +nice sort of life they must lead. If it was a monastery they couldn't +shut themselves up more," added the pointsman mysteriously, as he +watched the train disappear round a curve. + +"A pack of foreigners, too; I suppose it's this here wretched war which +brings them over. Sweden's full of these heathen now, and they have to +have bread-tickets.... Well, if you must go to the Copper House, it +will take you the best part of half an hour to walk it...." + +Leo walked on out of earshot, and did not feel inclined to pass them +again, as he wished to avoid recognition. He crossed the railway, and +walked slowly past some newly-built villas, and the old deaf florist's +green-house ("wonder if the old boy is still alive?"). As he reached +the outskirts of the wood, he turned round and saw the man with the +case walking about a hundred yards behind him, like a gray shadow on +the white road. The fellow, like himself, was really on the way to +the Copper House, then? He looked down at the dark, solitary figure, +approaching in the sunshine, and wondered what he had better do: leave +things as they were, or force a closer acquaintance. But he was not +called upon to make a decision after all, for the other left the road +suddenly, leapt over a ditch, and vanished into the woods. + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour later, Leo stood outside the so-called Karka +gates. And here we must insert a bit of topography which will help our +readers to a clearer understanding of the events which followed. + +The port and watering-place of Nynäs is, so to speak, Stockholm's most +southerly outpost on the Baltic Sea, as Saltsjöbaden and Sandhamn are +its most easterly ones. The Nynäs railway runs throughout the length +of Söderström which lies between those two points, and the nearer it +gets to Nynäs, the narrower grows the hilly country between the railway +and the sea. As Karkby is one of the last stations before Nynäs, one +can easily reach the shore by walking for about half an hour in an +easterly direction. But, as the railway is a fairly recent innovation, +anyone who starts to walk, soon strikes the old main-road to Stockholm +(nowadays practically disused), and, by following it, he will come +suddenly upon the entrance to Karka, rising, as if by magic, out of +the deserted landscape. It is a ruinous archway, with rusty iron +gates, and a porter's lodge, behind which a carriage-road winds up +through an avenue of ancient trees. No house is visible, but this is +the boundary of the Graths' ancestral property, Karka, which occupies +a considerable portion of land between the sea and the road. It is +strangely impressive to see, in the midst of the wooded country, this +once stately entrance left desolate and crumbling, like a monument to +the wealth and prosperity of former times. + +What was the state of affairs at the Copper House, as the whole +property was generally called, from the appearance of the house itself, +we shall tell in due time. + +Leonard Grath, its present owner (and that only in name), stood outside +the gates, and looked through the bars. Outside the porter's lodge sat +a man cleaning a double-barreled gun; he did not look up. + +"Hullo, there!" cried the young man cheerily, "just let me in, there's +a good chap." + +The fellow looked into the road with evident surprise; he had a +swarthy, sunburnt face. + +"Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded roughly, and without +getting up. + +"I am Leonard Grath, the owner of the Copper House, and I want to come +in." + +The man stared at Leo with an insolent grin, and said: "Indeed, you +want to come in, do you? Why not say at once that you are the Emperor +of China?" + +"Don't you hear me say that this place belongs to me? Open the gate +at once, man!" exclaimed Leo angrily, and shaking the locked gate +violently. The porter slipped a cartridge into his gun, and laid the +weapon across his knees. + +"Don't you go trying that on," said he. "If you are the owner, you are +in California, and I guess you won't mind if I send a charge of shot in +your direction...." + +He cocked his gun and raised it. + +"Be off, now," he added, "we are tired of sending strangers off the +place." + +Leo returned his look, and retired unwillingly, but he could not help +laughing: the situation struck him as supremely ridiculous. + +"You may see my papers," said he. + +"Don't talk to me of your papers!" replied the man, following up his +words with a most unexpected action. Raising the gun, and without +getting up, he fired. The range was too short for the shot to spread, +but Leo saw chips of mortar fly from the gateway. + +"You--you scoundrel!" he burst out in amazement. "What do you mean by +that?" + +The man loaded again, without a word. They looked at one another; Leo +opened his mouth, closed it again, and returned to the road: he was not +inclined to laugh any longer. He walked cautiously alongside the iron +palings, for he knew that they came to an end about a hundred yards +further on, where a rustic fence took their place. When he was out of +sight from the gate, he clambered over the fence, and found himself +at length on his own property, with every inch of which he had been +familiar since childhood. He made his way up a slope, and came to a +small pine wood, which, after a little consideration, he entered by a +well-worn path. Suddenly he stopped, and drew a deep breath. "Home!" he +said aloud. The thought filled him with ecstasy; he had not expected +that the sight of this old-world, sun-steeped spot would move him so +deeply, and he sat down on a stone to recover himself. To think that he +was really home again, and that, in another ten minutes, he would be +inside the Copper House! Forgetting everything else, he sprang up, and +set off with swift, eager steps in the direction of a field which could +be seen through the trees. + +At that minute he heard a light footstep on the path ahead of him, and +a girl in a black riding-habit came running towards him, looking behind +her at every few steps. Two men with guns slung at their backs could be +seen some way off on the left, hastening with long strides, as though +to intercept her. The girl uttered a cry, as the two men leapt down on +the path just in front of her, and seized her by the arms. She easily +shook them off, and her riding-whip left a red wheal on the face of the +nearest. They said something in a rough voice, and the girl cried out +angrily: "I shall go where I like, you have no right...." + +"You be quiet, now, Miss, and go home to your Papa," said one of the +men, not uncivilly; and he lifted her up, and began to carry her back +along the same path by which they had come. She broke loose, and +struck him again across the face. The pain made him furious, and with +a shout, he pushed her violently away. By this time Leo had come up. +"We don't treat women like that, in this part of the world," said he, +pushing the fellow aside with a shove of his broad shoulder. The second +man reached for his gun, but Leo twisted the weapon out of his hands, +and motioned him back. "Keep still!" he ordered. + +The girl had recovered herself, and looked at him in silence. She +appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen, and the young man +immediately recognized the dark beauty of the photograph. He raised his +hat. + +"Miss Bernin, I believe? My name is Leonard Grath." + +As the girl stood looking uneasily at him, with a curious blank +expression in her big brown eyes, he added hastily: "Are you hurt?" + +She came up to him, laid both hands on his arm, and said in a low tone: +"Go! Go back the way you came!" + +Leo glanced at the two men, who stood a little way off between him and +the path, watching him attentively. + +"What are those two fellows doing?" he asked. + +"They are two of the forest-guards," answered the girl, "but do, do go +away!" + +"Why should I?" said Leo, with a pang of annoyance and disappointment. +"I have a right to come here, haven't I?" + +He offered her his arm, rather ironically, and added: "Although I seem +to be so unwelcome, allow me to escort you to the Copper House; I am +just on my way there." + +The girl colored, bit her lip, and, turning round, she walked away. +One of the men laughed, and Leo said sharply, glad of the opportunity +to give vent to the wrath that was boiling within: "Be quiet, if you +don't want me to thrash you off the premises! I have evidently arrived +unexpectedly, but I haven't begun yet. Just wait a bit, and you'll see!" + +The two men gave no sign that they had heard what he had said. Leo +threw down the gun, turned his back, and followed the girl. When he +caught her up, she hung her head, and he saw that she was very pale. He +fell into step at her left side, but she walked on as though she was +alone. + +"There seem to be great changes here," he remarked, without taking any +notice of her attitude. "The Copper House was always famous for its +hospitality, but now it seems that it won't even admit its own master." + +He paused, but there was no reply. + +"As for forest-guards," he continued, "such luxuries have been +superfluous in these woods for many years past. I suppose you keep them +to look after the squirrels? At any rate, one of them evidently took me +for a squirrel...." + +He described, with a sort of bitter enjoyment, the episode at the gate. +Quite unexpectedly the girl burst into tears and he looked at her with +sudden remorse. + +"I am a brute," he muttered. "Miss Bernin, for Heaven's sake, look at +me, you can see and hear that I'm only an awful idiot. Please do laugh +at me instead!" + +There was a sort of tearful laugh, then a sob, and finally the laugh +won the day. The girl looked up at him, and dried her eyes with a +little silk handkerchief. + +"It is silly to cry," she remarked seriously. "Were you very surprised?" + +"Not so very," he assured her. "Young ladies are allowed to shed a few +tears now and then, aren't they? It is perfectly natural...." + +"I have forgotten to thank you," she said, with a little bow. "It +wasn't as dangerous as it looked, but you came up at the right moment. +You see, my father and my aunt are very strict, and occasionally I +rebel, and the authorities send out the squirrel-police to quell the +disturbance. You arrived on the final scene of a domestic crisis...." + +The little lady was chattering away in the liveliest fashion with +quick, bird-like movements of her uncovered, dark head, which made the +jet earrings that she wore dance and quiver. She stepped out like a +boy, with a quick, firm tread, swinging her riding-whip. + +"You say now that I came at the right minute," said Leo reproachfully, +"but just before that you told me to go away!" + +"Don't you mean to?" she asked, with a rapid glance from a pair of eyes +that just then struck him as being as dark as night. + +"Not unless you ask me to again," he replied boldly. + +The girl stopped and turned round. "Things haven't altered, you know," +she said, and walked on. Leo looked round also. The two forest-guards +were still standing amongst the trees, looking down at them, but a +third had joined them, and each of the three men held his gun in his +hands. + +The young man felt a little shiver pass through him. Ahead of him, +though still some way off, he could see the greater part of the old +avenue, which stretched for more than a mile from Karka gates to the +house itself, which was still hidden behind some rising ground to the +left. He thought he caught sight of two or three figures patrolling +the avenue under the shade of the trees, but they vanished before he +was quite certain. He began to wonder whether the girl by his side +had given him the full explanation of the scene in the wood, but his +thoughts took another turn, for now, through the thick foliage, he had +a glimpse of the ponderous gables of the house, looking as though they +were moulded in green copper. The house, at all events, had not changed +in appearance. He stopped on the terrace with its crumbling balustrade, +and his eyes drank in the familiar scene, till the dust of years was +blown away, and he was a boy once more. There was the square, massive +building, its walls weather-stained and gray with age, supporting the +steep copper-sheathed roof, which, from its queer slope, seemed half +as high as the house, and looked like a mediæval helmet, profaned by +two tiers of windows; there were the two copper statues of Fortune with +her cornucopia, and Mercury with his winged heels, a forgotten figure +on either side of the steps, gazing blankly and silently at one another +from their never-changing positions. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + _In which it is obvious that the owner is a guest in his own house_ + + +Leonard Grath entered the Copper House like a visitor, hat in hand. A +sunbeam lay right across the polished oak floor of the hall, and in the +middle of the patch of light stood a tall, old lady, as upright as a +grenadier, and as thin and dark as a Bedouin, who fixed a penetrating +glance upon the new-comer. She went on crocheting a piece of lace, the +other end of which was hidden in an old-fashioned basket-work satchel +that hung on her left arm. + +Leo stopped short, as though her look was an actual barrier, and bowed. + +"Sonia Andreievna," said the old lady, in the tone of a drill sergeant +on parade, "where have you been?" + +The girl shot a covert glance at the young man, and threw down her +riding-whip. + +"Aunt Lona," she replied meekly, "this gentleman has just been mistaken +for a squirrel...." + +"Sonia Andreievna" ... the sharp voice interrupted, "speak sensibly; +you know that I detest riddles." + +"My name is Leonard Grath," the latter interposed, hastily, bowing +again and feeling somewhat embarrassed. + +The crochet-needles came to a standstill, and their owner took two +strides towards him, and stared unblinkingly into his eyes. He noticed +that, in spite of her iron-gray hair and lean, dried-up looks, she +could hardly be more than sixty. Her imperious eyes still flashed with +youthful energy, every movement betokened strength, and her whole +bearing was that of a well-bred lady, even though she might be a bit +of a martinet. Like her niece, she was plainly dressed in black, with +white ruffles, and a necklace of jet beads, which clicked gently as she +moved. + +"Leonard Grath," she echoed; "the owner?" + +"Yes, I am afraid I have arrived rather unexpectedly, and if I have in +any way...." + +"Sonia Andreievna! pick up your whip at once" (the young man was quite +startled) "and put it in its place. Yes, Mr. Grath, I cannot deny that +you _have_ taken us by surprise." + +"Oh dear, I certainly never meant...." + +"Sonia Andreievna! Do you see what time it is? Have I not told you a +thousand times that we have a fixed hour for dinner?" + +Her remarks seemed to Leo to be emphasized by a perfect regiment of +exclamation-points, and he did not wonder that the girl darted away +like an arrow from a bow. But to his surprise, no sooner were they +alone, than the old lady's tone became almost cordial. + +"I am Lona Ivanovna Bernin, and as your tenant I bid you welcome to the +Copper House. You will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner? +Good, let us have a cigarette while we are waiting." + +Still wondering, Leo allowed himself to be ushered to an armchair in +the familiar old Empire drawing-room on the left side of the hall. +Lona Ivanovna offered him a cigarette case, and herself took a Russian +cigarette, which she lighted with one hand. Leo was thinking what to +say next, when she forestalled him. + +"Have you come from abroad?" + +"Yes, from California." + +"Ah, California; a magnificent climate, I believe. No doubt you have +become tired of living out there?" + +"Not exactly, but I felt inclined to come home." + +"Hm--Do you think of making a long stay?" + +"That depends. You see, it isn't a question of climate, exactly...." + +She pursed up her mouth and frowned. + +"In my opinion, the climate of California is far preferable," she +remarked, looking sharply at him. + +"Very possibly, but this visit will be quite a change for me." + +"How so?" + +"Oh, there is so much that is new, I mean ... a whole lot of +strange ... well, in short...." + +Leo stopped short in confusion, and puffed away furiously at his +cigarette. The old lady blew a perfect ring, looked quizzically at him +through it, and said dryly: "Young man, whatever you do, don't go and +fall in love with Sonia!" + +Leo stared dumbfounded at his cigarette. The conversation dropped, and +silence reigned in the room, broken only by the buzzing of a stray bee +on the window pane. + + * * * * * + +Dinner was over, and Leonard Grath the richer by several experiences. +First of all, he had proved the truth of the old adage that: "guests +are hosts in the host's house," for was not he a guest and stranger, +and moreover a thoroughly unwelcome one, in his own home? It seemed to +him as though the girl and her aunt took it in turns to keep an eye on +him: he could see them exchanging glances and whispers whose meaning +was unintelligible to him, and, what struck him as strangest of all, +in the whole of that spacious house and its adjoining buildings there +appeared to be no living creature except the two ladies. He inquired, +as a matter of politeness, for Mr. Andrei Bernin, who was stated to be +in bed in his own room, and far too unwell to see the honored guest. + +As soon as the dinner was over, Sonia, obeying a signal from her aunt, +proposed a turn round the garden, and the two young people strolled +along for a while in silence. It was getting towards sunset, and the +rural orchestra was in full chorus: birds were fluting in a medley of +youthful emulation, bumble-bees droned in their drowsy baritones, +and in the grass the crickets added their violin notes to the evening +concert. + +Now that Sonia Bernin in the flesh was alongside of him, Leo found her +ten times more interesting than when he had first seen her portrait on +Wallion's table; her boyish unconstraint, added to a lissom, almost +kitten-like grace, and her ready wit, gave him a delightful sensation +of comradeship--but the minute he attempted to strike a note of +intimacy, he ran up against a barrier of chilly reserve, and the pose +of the boyish, black head became all of a sudden alarmingly ladylike. +Whatever the reason might be, she appeared totally unimpressed by his +masculine superiority, and this was a very novel experience for the +spoilt young man. + +At length he remarked: "I had thought of staying some time at the +Copper House, but it seems to me I am rather 'de trop' here." + +She twisted a leaf between her lips like a cigarette: "How so?" she +inquired. + +"Oh, there's no doubt about it. The man at the gate showed it quite +unmistakably--for one." + +"With his gun, you mean? It _was_ too bad; but you see, he naturally +took you for an impostor, having heard that the owner of the Copper +House was in America. I expect he will be discharged, in any case," she +added. + +"And you told me yourself to go away, as soon as ever you knew who I +was," he continued. + +"Wasn't it kind of me to warn you, when it is so dull here?" laughed +the girl. + +"It is not dull here, and that is not why you warned me," he retorted. +She looked up, and their eyes met: for the second time that day, Leo +saw hers dilate and darken. She did not reply, but hurried on a little, +as though to evade him, but he kept step with her, and proceeded: + +"As you know, your father wants to buy this property; it is a pity I +can't have a talk with him about it. Your aunt is reticent, and you are +mysterious. Won't you have a little pity on me?" + +They had walked to the top of a slight rise, from which they could see +down the greater part of the avenue. The girl stood still, panting a +little. Suddenly she asked: + +"Have you seen Mr. Tassler?" + +Leo shook his head, and they were silent again. The girl seemed to +be listening to something, rather uneasily. Far off in the sunlit +stillness a rhythmical throbbing sound became audible; it approached +with uncanny rapidity, getting louder every minute, then suddenly +ceased altogether. + +"Did you hear that?" whispered the girl. + +"Yes," he answered. "A motor cycle has apparently stopped at Karka +gates; it's a pity we can't see them from here, it must be someone from +Stockholm." + +As he said this, he remembered the young man with the attaché-case, +whom he had so unintentionally startled with Sonia's photograph, but +as he was about to tell her of the occurrence, there was a dramatic +interruption. A shot was fired at the gate, and it was followed by a +long, thrilling cry. A few seconds later, a man came dashing up the +avenue as though he was running for his life. Leo at once recognized +his fellow passenger, and the girl cried out in a voice of terrified +dismay: "Sergius, Sergius!" + +The fugitive raised his face, which was deathly pale, and without +stopping, he exclaimed: "Rastakov!" + +The girl turned round to Leo, and said in a rapid stifled voice: "Hide +yourself; and, mind, you have seen nothing!" + +With that, she sprang down from the little hill, followed by the +fugitive, and both disappeared. Almost immediately afterwards, two more +men came running up the avenue: one was the porter who had threatened +Leo with the same gun that he still carried in his hand, the other was +a tall fellow, dressed as a motor cyclist. They also vanished in the +direction of the house. + +Without further delay, Leo hastened back along the same path by which +he had come, and in five seconds he came in sight of the terrace in +front of the Copper House. He saw the man with the case run up the +steps, hesitate for a moment, then dash into the house. The girl +followed on his heels, and the porter and the cyclist reached the +terrace to find it deserted. Then, as though by the touch of a magic +wand, some more men appeared from both sides of the house. These, with +the two men already mentioned, made a party of nine, of whom four +carried guns. They approached the house at the double. The cyclist +called out some order in a commanding voice, and began to mount the +terrace-steps. Leo reached the spot at the same moment, and exclaimed: +"What's wrong?" + +The motor cyclist took no notice of him. + +Again a shot rang out, this time inside the Copper House; most of the +men had passed out of earshot on the other side of the house, but the +cyclist, the porter, and one other unknown man, ran into the hall, +together with Leo. + +The old lady advanced to meet them, with a revolver in her hand. She +looked firmly and menacingly at the intruder and said: "Rastakov, did I +invite you to come in?" + +The cyclist halted. + +"Who fired, Lona Ivanovna?" he demanded. + +"I did." + +"Where is he?" + +"Whom do you mean?" + +"Oh, you know perfectly well, that thief Bernard Jenin; what have you +done with him?" + +Lona Ivanovna thrust the revolver into her workbag, looked resignedly +at the cyclist, and said: "You may look for him." + +Leo, who understood nothing of this hurried interchange of questions, +looked on bewildered. Rastakov caught sight of the fugitive's case +lying open on the floor, caught it up, and flung it against the wall +with an oath, for it was empty. + +"I will have him, dead or alive," he shouted, "and the damned document +too!" + +He ran half-way up the stairs to the first floor, but turned round as +though he had remembered something. + +"And what's more," he cried across the hall, "I know how pigheaded you +are, Lona Ivanovna! All right, if you would rather have the Chief to +deal with, just let me know! But beware of meddling with Tarraschin's +memorandum, for it means death!" + +With that, he disappeared. Lona Ivanovna took Leo by the arm, and drew +him with unexpected force, though not unkindly, into the dining-room +after her. + +"Isn't it a case for the police?" he began. + +"Don't mix yourself up in this," she said kindly. "Sonia, they want +to search the house: you must see that Mr. Grath is spared hearing +anything more of Rastakov...." + +Sonia came up to them; she was very pale, but quite composed; the +boyish look had vanished, and she answered quietly: "If Mr. Grath is +determined to stay, I am afraid he will be obliged to see a good deal +both of Rastakov and of Baron Fayerling." + +The two women looked expectantly at him. They could hear the hasty +steps of the searchers echoing through the whole house. + +"I should like to know who this Rastakov is, that he takes so much upon +himself in a house where my honored guests are staying," said Leo, +emphasizing the word 'guests'--"neither have I heard anything of Baron +Fayerling. But I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of anyone who +is good enough to honor the Copper House with his presence." + +He was quite aware that his tone was not courteous, in spite of the +formality of his speech, but he was thoroughly roused. He could see +now, as though a curtain had been drawn back, that these people, +whose strange dark faces were stamped with furtive menace, were the +mysterious offspring of the lurid shadows of the World War. + +He thought of the panic-stricken fugitive whom he had just seen flying +for his life; of the shot which had so recently rung through the house: +of Lona Ivanovna with the revolver in her hand. The frenzied search +was still progressing overhead; footsteps and voices echoed through +the passages. "Living or dead!" As Rastakov's words recurred to Leo's +mind, he was seized with the horrible conviction that murder had been +committed already: what ought he to do? + +The two women were watching his face as though they longed to read his +thoughts. + +"Your room is quite ready," said the elder one gravely. + +Before Leo had decided what to answer, he found himself alone. He +began to pace up and down in great perturbation. He could see one of +the men, with his gun, outside on the terrace, silhouetted against the +rosy, sunset sky. For the last few minutes, such a silence had fallen, +that he could have fancied himself alone in the house. He listened +attentively, but could hear nothing. His thoughts circled irresolutely +over what had occurred, but he could find no explanation of it, and +began to feel more and more uneasy. An hour passed by, the shadows +lengthened and still no sound broke the stillness. Was no one coming +back? + +At last he could bear the suspense no longer, and he went into the +hall. He could still see, through the glass doors, the armed sentry on +the terrace, but inside the house all was empty and silent. He went +from one room to another, and ran upstairs to the first floor, but not +a soul did he meet. The thought that the fugitive was perhaps lying +dead, huddled away in some dark corner, obsessed him like a nightmare, +and his limbs trembled as though with fever. Suddenly a sort of panic +came over him, he ran breathlessly up another flight of stairs, burst +open the door of his bedroom, and shut it after him with a bang that +resounded through the house. Leaning against the door, and alone in the +little room, where everything was just as it always had been since his +earliest childhood, and where he had dreamed so many boyish dreams, he +breathed again. + +"Have I gone mad?" he asked himself. "What is going on here? The +Problem-hunter was right, the Copper House is full of mysteries!" + +He looked round for some water, for his lips felt parched, but there +was none in the room. "Can they have killed him!" he thought. "And is +it possible that I have stood by, without moving a finger, and allowed +a man to be done to death!" + +At last he heard a door creak outside, and he peeped out into the dusky +corridor. The door of the spare bedroom at the other end of the passage +was opening slowly, an inch at a time, and he could see first a feeble, +bony hand, and then a stooping figure outlined against the window +behind. + +The figure moved uncertainly, groping with a stick along the edge of +the carpet, and walked with short, senile steps towards the stairs. Leo +watched him narrowly, trying to get a glimpse of his face; he thought +he could make out a short white beard and straggling white hair under a +velvet skull-cap, and the glimmer of a pair of blue spectacles. A blind +man! In an instant he realized that his wealthy tenant, Andrei Bernin, +was before him for the first time. The old man seemed to hesitate, +and called softly: "Sonia!" but receiving no answer, he finally went +towards the staircase, tapping with his stick at every step. Leo could +hear his quavering voice calling to Lona Ivanovna, the sound getting +fainter as it receded. There was something so eerie about those feeble +tones, uttered in the silent, lonely house at nightfall, that the young +man, with a shudder, shut himself into his room again. After a minute +he double-locked the door, and went over to the open window. The sky +had faded to sulphur-yellow in the west, and night was closing in, +cool and dim, over the countryside. A soft breeze was blowing in from +the sea. He heard the crunching of gravel under his window, and leaned +out. Two figures passed beneath, one of whom pointed upwards, and said +something in an imperious tone. Leo fancied he recognized Rastakov's +voice. + +They knew, then, that he was in his bedroom, and they were keeping +an eye on him! The conviction awakened fresh misgivings. He sat down +on the bed, and buried his head in his hands. Was he afraid? Yes, he +had to confess that he _was_ afraid, because there was nobody within +reach in whom he could confide, or whom he could ask for advice.... The +Problem-hunter! He sprang to his feet. + +Five minutes later, he had climbed down the thick clumsy copper +gutter-spout, with the same soundless agility, and the same intense +excitement as had characterized such escapades twenty years ago. He +expected to be halted by a challenge from the shadowy avenue, but +none came, and the owner of Copper House crept away like a Red Indian +through the trees into the wood. Three times he caught a glimpse of +the dark forms of the men whom Sonia Bernin called forest-guards, +but, lucky for once, he did not attract their notice. When he turned +round, he could see in the far distance, behind the top of the massive +pile of the Copper House, a flickering, bluish glimmer, which seemed +to come from the direction of the Bay. He did not venture to delay +that he might investigate the source of this unusual light.... When he +strung himself aboard the last train to Stockholm, which was already +moving out of Karkby, he was gasping for breath, and drenched with +perspiration. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + _The Problem-hunter_ + + +It was past midnight, when a young man, evidently dead-tired, and +looking thoroughly exhausted, entered the office of the night Editor +of the _Daily Courier_, and asked to see Maurice Wallion. The night +Editor, a somewhat callous personage, looked at him without any special +interest. + +"Wallion?" he answered dryly. "He's not here." + +"Where can I find him?" + +"That's more than I can tell you--we haven't seen him ourselves! There +is just one chance in a thousand that he's at home, but if he is, he +doesn't answer the telephone, anyway--I have tried! He won't be best +pleased when he sees how his office here has been turned upside down." + +"Upside down?" + +"That's putting it mildly. You might tell him, if you find him, +that his room looks as though a squad of small hurricanes had been +performing war-dances in it, and that nobody knows how or when. Here's +his address, if you really feel you want the exercise of a night ramble +from here to Valhalla Road." + +The Editor pushed a scrap of paper into Leo's hand, and showed him out +with a polite, though rather suggestive, zeal. + +The young man stood for a while in the deserted street, to collect his +thoughts. He also turned up his coat-collar, for the keen air made him +shiver after his exertions in the wood; and with a gesture of undaunted +resolution, he started on his pilgrimage through the shadowy wilderness +of stone, beneath the rows of extinguished street lamps. + +Women accosted him with inviting glances and alluring voices: and knots +of revelers passed him with discordant bursts of laughter; further on, +a policeman with his hands behind him, stood gazing after him. + +These shadows, appearing and vanishing in the mists of night, recalled +the events of the last few hours, as did the glaring, owl-like orbs of +the clock-tower, and he hastened his steps, breaking into an occasional +run. + +When he at last reached the broad, lonely Valhalla Road, past the +Stadion and the barracks, his clothes were clinging to him, and he +was quite out of breath. It now occurred to him for the first time, +that the outer door of the block of flats, in one of which the +Problem-hunter lived, would probably be locked, but when he arrived +there, he saw that it was partly open, and, without stopping to +consider the reason for this, he ran quickly up the stairs.... + +He came to a standstill before the folding-doors, which bore a brass +plate with the name of Maurice Wallion. One of the doors stood ajar, +and on the stone floor of the lobby were scattered several splinters of +white wood. He heard the stairs creaking on the next landing, as though +someone were making his escape that way, startled by his unexpected +arrival. All was dark in front of him, but he pushed the door open and +stepped over the threshold. + +A hand hovered above his head like a swooping hawk and seized him by +the neck. The owner of the hand came out from behind the door, and a +strong voice said mockingly in his ear: "Come along in, young fellow! +No, don't struggle, I've been waiting for you impatiently. I can't say +you are much of a hand at forcing a Yale lock, it has taken you the +best part of half an hour--and now--glad to see you, take a seat!" + +With what seemed to Leo superhuman strength, he was lifted up and flung +headlong into a corner, where he fell on to a heap of something soft, +clothes evidently. The electric light was turned on with a click, and +he saw bending over him a tall man in shooting costume. A pair of keen +gray eyes, that sparkled with energy and humor, were peering down at +him, and Leo guessed instinctively who this must be. + +"Good morning, Mr. Wallion," he said. "Pleased to meet you...." + +"It's you, is it?" answered the Problem-hunter, without seeming in the +least taken aback. "Why are you sitting there?" + +Leo got up. + +"I was under the impression that there was an earthquake just as I came +in, but perhaps I was mistaken!" + +"It was I who was mistaken, my dear Mr. Grath. One of Baron Fayerling's +aides-de-camp has been playing about with the lock of my door +for the last half-hour, and I have been standing behind the door +waiting--naturally they thought I was out--and just as he was on +the point of getting in, you interrupted him, and fell into my trap +instead...." + +The Problem-hunter broke off, and sprang to the door, but at the same +instant, they heard a terrific clattering down the stairs, and the +outer door at the bottom was banged to. + +"He had evidently no wish to wait, when he knew that I was at home," +remarked Wallion. "I must really beg your pardon for the very rough +reception I gave you just now. The blackguard, he has quite ruined this +lock: however, that's easily remedied--just a minute, and then we shall +be able to have our little chat in comfort." + +As he spoke, he was quickly and deftly screwing a strong bolt on the +door. + +"There, that will do. Now, will you come this way?" + +They went into the study, and Wallion lighted a lamp with a yellow +shade, that stood upon his writing-table. + +"Of course, you are very much surprised at my knowing you again," +inquired Wallion, looking with interest, though not disconcertingly so, +at his belated visitor, whilst he brought out the ingredients for a +refreshing drink of "Johnnie Walker" and soda, fetched cigarettes, and +drew the curtains. "You see, I got to know what you looked like as much +as three months ago...." + +"That didn't surprise me so much," said Leo, who felt quite revived, as +he glanced round him at the comfortable room, with its bookshelves and +tables. "But how on earth did you know that I was coming to Stockholm? +Not two months ago, I hadn't an idea of it myself!" + +"A sudden fancy, I suppose?" + +"Yes, something put it into my mind, I don't know exactly what...." + +"And the minute you get back, you find yourself in a whirlpool of the +most extraordinary events?" + +"Extraordinary hardly expresses them!" + +Maurice Wallion smiled, and sat down opposite Leo. + +"I am afraid I owe you another apology," said he. "So you don't exactly +know why you came to Stockholm? I can tell you--it was to help me. Yes, +I know, you will say that you were not even aware of my existence, +until you got my letter in Burchardt's office. No matter. I knew that +you were in Los Angeles, where you were not required, and that you +ought to be in Stockholm, where you were not expected. If I had written +direct to you, and asked you to come, you would certainly have treated +it as a joke, especially as I could have given you no reasonable +explanation--just then. + +"But do you remember Mrs. Gregory at Los Angeles? Do you remember how +often she turned the conversation latterly on the Copper House, what +interest she showed in it, how she drew you on to give her such glowing +descriptions of it that you began to feel quite home-sick? And how, +by degrees, she inspired you with the idea of a voyage home, without +further delay. Don't you remember all that?" + +"Now you mention it--yes, I believe it really was that pretty Mrs. +Gregory who put the journey into my head." + +"You see, during my travels, I made friends in all sorts of places. +There were you in Los Angeles; I ransacked my memory--ha! Mrs. +Gregory!--capital, an intelligent lady, a regular diplomat. I sent her +an elaborate telegram. Can you forgive me?" + +"My dear Mr. Wallion," replied Leo at once; "I am flattered, delighted! +We must be friends now, and don't, whatever happens, spirit me back to +California, before you have explained how I have become the object of +such unbounded interest." + +"In your capacity as owner of the Copper House." + +"I haven't been a great success so far, in that line," remarked Leo. +"When I tell you that I have been as good as turned out of it...." + +He broke off his sentence in rather guilty confusion, at an +unexpectedly piercing look from the other. + +"Have you been there already, in spite of my warning?" + +The young man nodded. + +"And the immediate result is this nocturnal visit?" continued Wallion. +"So you have been there? I was wondering all the time what could have +happened to agitate you so much; I might have realized that you are one +of those folks who never take advice.... Well, never mind, I am rather +reluctant to take it myself, without knowing the reason for it. What +did you see, to scare you so desperately?" + +At this question, a sort of panic terror overwhelmed Leo. He saw once +more the fugitive stumbling into the hall: he heard the shot ring out. +He faltered: "I believe that a man has been killed--shot--at the Copper +House; they didn't want me to see...." + +Wallion bent down and looked into the young man's eyes, as a doctor +would examine his patient. + +"Tell me all about it," said he. + +Leo thereupon poured out a very disjointed story, which the journalist +heard in silence. + +"You are sure that the girl called out 'Sergius'?" + +"As sure as I am that Rastakov called the fugitive Bernard Jenin." + +"And you think that Jenin certainly came into the house, but did not +leave it again?" + +"No, for it was impossible for him to get away." + +"And you say that he disappeared altogether after that shot had been +fired?" + +"Yes, as though he had been instantaneously annihilated." + +Wallion looked puzzled, and threw himself back in his chair with a +gesture of vexation. + +"Things don't tally! Talk of magic! I am brought up short whichever +way I turn in this affair. Why should Lona Ivanovna shoot Bernard +Jenin?--they ought...." + +He scratched his head meditatively, and got up from his seat. "I know +where I am with Rastakov, he is quite definitely on my black list. But +Lona Ivanovna? and the girl who called out 'Sergius'?" + +Presently Leo ventured to ask a question which had been on the tip of +his tongue for a long time. + +"I think it's my turn now to ask you for some light on these +difficulties," said he; "you were joking, weren't you, when you said +you needed my help?" + +Wallion turned round and answered: "I suppose you know the Copper House +like the palm of your hand?" + +"Who should, if not I?" + +"Exactly, you know the house, and you have the _right_ to do so. Do you +understand why these people want to buy the property? Simply to deprive +you of that right. No one but yourself is in a position to know what is +going on at the Copper House; and some underhand work is on foot there, +which is bound to come to a head sooner or later. But I won't tantalize +you with riddles, I will speak out." + +He sat down again, and continued: + +"It is a good thing you didn't run off to the police; that will come +later, but not yet. I presume you did not meet Marcus Tassler?" + +"No," replied Leo. + +"That's just as well; it leaves us free to see the situation clearly." + +"Excuse me," interrupted Leo, "I don't see anything clearly, as yet!" + +"I am going to tell you a story," said Wallion. "Five months ago, I +was sent for early one morning to see a dying man. I asked his name, +and, to my surprise, I was given the name of a person who, several +years previously, had been a friend of mine, and who had had the +reputation of being a very promising journalist. But, in consequence +of an extremely unfortunate and ridiculous love-affair, he went all to +pieces, and finally disappeared, of his own accord, from our circle. + +"I hastened to him, and found a poor, battered, neglected creature, +lying, watch in hand, and speculating with a sort of childish +curiosity, as to who would reach him first--myself or Death. They had +told me beforehand that the unfortunate wretch had come home tipsy +the night before, and had fallen out of a passage window on the fifth +story, down to the stone pavement below. Everyone in the building had +been aroused by the cry he uttered as he fell. + +"I won't mention his name, for obvious reasons. + +"When I came into the poverty-stricken bedroom, he raised his head +from the pillow, and said very slowly and softly: 'I was afraid they +wouldn't let you come!' + +"I fancied he was delirious, and he looked as though he could barely +have another minute to live. + +"'Who do you mean?' I asked him. + +"'The men who killed me,' was his reply. + +"I hardly know what I said, for it was a dreadful shock to see the man +whom I remembered full of life and health, lying an utter wreck before +me. His back was broken. The change in him was so overwhelming that he +could not but notice my consternation. + +"'Yes, it is I,' he said, 'but in a minute or two I shall not be here +any longer ... quick, quick, bend down--no, do not touch my hand!' And +he turned away his head, as though in shame. + +"'Send away the doctor,' he murmured. I asked the doctor if he would +remain outside the room until I called him, and stooped down over the +dying man. His eyes glittered with fever, in his haggard, unshorn face. +'Do you know why I am dying?' said he. 'It's because I have seen too +far into the depths of the Whirlpool ... you are blind--all of you +blind! Can you see nothing?...' + +"He brought out these words with such an effort that it made him gasp +for breath, and I gave him some water. + +"'Mark my words,' he began again, in brief sentences and with repeated +pauses. 'I have thrown away my own life ... they bought me to do their +work, but I won't ... it is the beginning of Chaos ... first in +Russia ... then it will spread everywhere ... the man who dominates the +Whirlpool is called Gabriel Ortiz; I found that out yesterday, and last +night they killed me ... for I am as good as dead already.' + +"His failing energy beat out every word like the sparks from an anvil, +and I listened breathlessly, for I realized that he was husbanding the +last remnants of strength to make some amazing revelation. + +"'Gabriel Ortiz ... remember that name ... his right hand is Baron +Fayerling ... but there are many others ... their plan ... it's +appalling ... the wild beast shall possess the earth!...' + +"He groped for my hand, as though by clinging to me he could retain his +hold on life a little longer. His anguish was fearful to see. + +"'The War is nothing to what will happen, if Ortiz is not crushed ... +but be careful ... they kill'; ... his voice grew fainter, and he +lapsed into unconsciousness. I called in the doctor, but after a few +minutes, he died. + +"The dim room still seemed to echo with the sound of his voice. What +was it he wanted to tell me?" + +Wallion lighted a cigarette, and Leo could see that he was deeply moved. + +"You see for yourself what a fantastic confession it appeared. And +yet it never occurred to me to doubt the dead man's information, +though I could find nothing to confirm it amongst his papers. But I +made discreet inquiries of his neighbors, and when I went away, I was +convinced that he had really been murdered by two men, who had lain in +wait for him on the staircase, and pushed him through the window. I +felt sure he had been in his right mind, but that he had been unable +to complete a communication which would have been of incalculable +importance." + +"Could you find no clue to it?" + +"No, but I took it for granted that he was the author of an article, +headed: 'Who is the Man in the Whirlpool?' which had appeared a +few weeks previously, in a little popular weekly paper. It proved +impossible to verify it, because, for some unknown reason, the +newspaper came to an end shortly after, and its contributors were all +dispersed. In this remarkable article, attention was called to the +fact that, during the War, Stockholm had become a center of activity +for adventurers of a type hitherto unknown to civilization, and it was +asserted that amongst them was a man who, as it were behind the back of +the War, was organizing these mysterious forces, no one could say how +or why. + +"At all events, the writer of the article and the dying man took the +same view, that something was brewing, and I had suspected as much +already; things were going on in Stockholm which aroused my notice, +there was a sort of subterranean movement which puzzled me. The image +of a whirlpool was extraordinarily apt, and I could not doubt that the +poor fellow I had just seen die, had been sucked into the vortex by +sheer want, or by the temptation of easily earned money. Many weak and +unfortunate characters have gone that way in these times! But what he +caught sight of in the Whirlpool had evidently alarmed him, and he had +made an effort to save his soul alive. Had I only arrived on the scene +a few minutes earlier, I might have learned everything. At any rate, +he had not summoned me in vain; I knew now that the Master Villain was +called Gabriel Ortiz. + +"But when I tried to obtain particulars as to this Gabriel Ortiz, I +immediately met with the most extraordinary difficulties, which were +in themselves a proof that he existed, but that he had safeguarded +himself with the most intricate precautions. I had only just started +my investigations in earnest, when the Russian Revolution broke out in +March. At once I became aware, here in Stockholm, that under my very +eyes, the sinister development was gaining strength. The Whirlpool +was beginning to seethe. My attention had been directed towards Baron +Fayerling, but I had not succeeded in discovering anything mysterious +about him. He stays at one of the best hotels, goes everywhere, and +lives officially on the rents of his Roumanian property. But as +Roumanian property is just now a very uncertain source of income, Baron +Fayerling also does business of the most up-to-date kind, and has +associated himself for this purpose with Marcus Tassler, the manager +of the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company, a thorough going +profiteer, and even outside business matters a regular shark. + +"Meanwhile, the odd thing about Tassler is the interest he takes in the +Copper House. Mark this: we have at the Copper House three perfectly +inconspicuous persons, who seem to prefer living in the most complete +retirement; they are Andrei Bernin, his sister and his daughter. As +long as I have had my eye on them, they have never left the Copper +House, and have not evinced any particular friendship for Tassler +or the baron, who often stay there as self-invited guests. Tassler +has shown unremitting interest in the Copper House, and it is he who +has brought about, first the lease of the entire property, and now +the liberal offer to purchase it. He has installed there a staff of +attendants, whom he commands with almost military zeal. The gate-keeper +is called Tugan; no one knows his nationality, but he is a regular +watchdog, and only too glad to get food, drink and fighting, provided +gratis. He, of course, lives at the lodge. + +"Then we have the gardener, whom you have probably not seen yet; +his name is Rosenthal, a taciturn, meditative sort of fellow, with +something refined about him which distinguishes him slightly from the +rest. He has two underlings, and these three live in the gardener's +cottage behind the big house. + +"Next we have the cowhouse and the stable, which now contain only three +cows and two horses--but four cowherds and two grooms are kept to look +after them--what do you make of that? + +"Wait! The list is not complete yet. There are the six men whom Sonia +Bernin calls the forest-guards, and they really _do_ keep watch in the +wood, as you can testify from personal experience! + +"And finally, two individuals are installed at the little cottage +beside the pier that runs out into the Bay; they fish, and sail in and +out of the farther islands, but what they catch, neither you nor I can +say! + +"So there we have a retinue of eighteen men--but not a trace of either +men or women servants in the Copper House itself. Not counting the +three Bernins, who are Russians, every one of the others on the place +is a foreigner, although ten or eleven of them can speak Swedish, and +six have been naturalized as Swedish citizens." + +"And you said you didn't know the Copper House!" exclaimed Leo; "why, +you know it better than I do!" + +"Anybody can find out that sort of thing," replied Wallion. "There is +no secret about it. But the burning question is: what is _really_ going +on at the Copper House?" + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + _The slayers_ + + +"Let us try and see exactly how we stand," went on the Problem-hunter; +"up to now there has been a lot of vague talk about whirlpools, chaos, +wild beasts, and the like. Accurately speaking, we already have a +complete chain, with the Copper House at one end, and the mysterious +Gabriel Ortiz at the other. Two of the most important links in the +chain are Fayerling and Tassler. I might add a third: Rastakov, though +he is a subordinate, a sort of non-commissioned officer, so to speak, +who gets all the dirty jobs for his share. Now we will take this +extraordinary 'chain,' link by link, and sum up all we know about it. +Of its head, Ortiz, we are not yet in a position to say anything very +definite; most of our information about him dates from ten years back." + +Wallion proceeded to give a brief outline of the story which he had +related to B.22, a few hours earlier. + +"Baron Fayerling, the fashionable society man, with his Roumanian +property, is the next on our list," he continued; "he manages to invest +his money on the most extraordinarily favorable terms. He banks with +no fewer than six banks in Stockholm, two in Göteburg, and one in +Copenhagen, Malmö, Christiania, and Hälsingfors respectively. + +"The grand total of his outstanding account rises and falls in a +very peculiar way: at the beginning of February he had no less than +12,000,000 kroner, at the end of the same month only half that amount, +and at the end of March only a paltry 100,000. Two weeks later, he paid +in on one day, 1,000,000 kroner to every one of his banking accounts, +making another sum of 12,000,000 kroner. And now, in July, his account +has reached the enormous total of over 20,000,000 kroner. Whatever kind +of business does he carry on? No one can say. I have myself verified +the names of eighty-four different persons, who have cashed the baron's +checks; of these, all except four were foreigners, and half of them +left Sweden afterwards, mostly bound for Russia or Finland. This influx +of people, all of whom received money, and sometimes a great deal of +it, from Fayerling, was largest at the beginning of March. Each man +paid a short visit to the baron's room at the hotel, and two of them +were shadowed the whole time by Rastakov. Three of them went out to the +Copper House. + +"We mustn't forget to mention Tassler, whose interests are closely +allied to those of the baron. The Finno-Russian Import and Export +Company is a bona fide concern; you can go whenever you like to their +office in Drottning Street, and negotiate the buying or selling of +almost any conceivable thing, for, like most other modern business men, +Tassler deals in practically any goods, from clinical thermometers to +coffee, tea and cocoa. A small number of the articles in which they +deal are only to be found in the catalogue, but this is probably due to +the fact that their value fluctuates with the continual rise of prices. + +"Tassler's banking-accounts are as unimpeachable as those of the baron, +and are deposited in much the same way. In one or two cases, I have +ascertained that these two men had concluded a deal in which there was +a genuine exchange of cash and goods; but, on the whole, I have not +been able to discover that the Agents of the Company, who are to be +found in all the large Scandinavian towns, carry on any business beyond +an incessant correspondence, on the firm's stamped writing paper, with +Messrs. Tassler and Fayerling. + +"I have read through a whole pile of such letters; they are full of +lists of goods, and business terms. Sometimes if it is anything urgent, +they send telegrams. Tassler's agent in Göteburg did so when you +landed from the American vessel. One gets the impression of elaborate +machinery in full working-order, but it is not so easy to ascertain its +object, for, if it were to make money, Fayerling and Tassler would not +have a rag to their backs by this time. + +"To put the thing in a nutshell, we see two gentlemen who allow +millions to flow out through a hundred different channels, but we +search in vain for the source of these millions or for the ultimate +aim of such lavish expenditure. If it were a question of the usual +spy-business, it would be easily understood, but neither Fayerling +nor Tassler nor any of their associates in and around the Copper House +appear to have the slightest connection with the belligerent powers. +No, there is something else in the wind--but what? + +"When I began my investigations, I evolved two different theories. The +first was, that this was an organization for gun-running. It was a fact +that Fayerling had been somehow implicated in the infamously famous +expedition which attempted to smuggle explosives across the northern +boundary into Finland, but was quashed by the Swedish authorities, and +its promoters mysteriously dispersed. The equally famous motor-launch +'Nelly,' which attempted to cross the Gulf of Bothnia with a cargo +of modern rifles, was seen a week previously cruising off the Copper +House. But I could not obtain sufficient proof; and, above all, I was +soon convinced that neither of such incidents could be more than a +detail, a mere trifle, in Fayerling's daily program. I could see that +he only goes in for big things. Thereupon, I started a fresh theory: +that the whole affair was a federation to assist various political +fugitives and conspirators in the technical part of their plans, such +as forging passports, protecting them against counter-espionage, +financing their journeys, purchasing weapons ... in short, a kind +of revolutionary stock-jobbery. As a matter of fact, hundreds of +revolutionaries and the like, with weapons and 'red' literature, were +smuggled into Russia by way of Stockholm, at the beginning of this +year. It would certainly be an interesting interpretation of the +activities of the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company! + +"But that explanation proved inadequate also: its aims were far too +limited. Fayerling and Tassler were obviously interested in the Russian +Revolution, but even after a revolutionary Government came into power +in Petrograd, their mysterious work continued with unabated vigor, +directed by the still invisible Gabriel Ortiz. I felt quite at a +loss.... + +"Then, all of a sudden, a period of inactivity set in; it started +some weeks ago. No more streams of unknown visitors, no more of that +colossal expenditure ... absolute stagnation! I noticed that Fayerling +was beginning to get fidgety; about once a day, usually rather late, +he would hold a long conversation on the telephone, after which he +regularly countermanded certain orders, and substituted new ones. +I felt sure that Ortiz must be at the other end of the line during +these talks, but I found it impossible to verify this. It was soon +evident that some new plan was afoot, and I determined to redouble +my watchfulness. One day my assistant, Robert Lang, overheard in the +street a conversation between the baron and Tassler in which the latter +alluded several times to 'Tarraschin's memorandum.' This gave us a +fresh idea. + +"Do you know what 'Tarraschin's memorandum' is? + +"It has only once been referred to publicly, and that was by a +Bulgarian journalist, who had got into some trouble over a newspaper +controversy. He referred to 'Tarraschin's memorandum' as 'a bomb +which, if it came into the right hands, would annihilate Europe.' +The document must have been drawn up in Moscow immediately after the +March revolution, and Prince Tarraschin was the originator of it. It +contained a complete plan to destroy the Revolution and reinstate the +Tsar, and practically all the best-known names of the Russian 'ancien +régime' would be irrevocably compromised if the document came to light. +Strangely enough, or perhaps, naturally enough, Prince Tarraschin died +at the end of March, before his plan had gone further than the paper +on which it was written, and the whole thing seemed to have died out +altogether. + +"This is where Bernard Jenin comes in, and at the same moment, +Fayerling's attitude of suspense ends as though by magic! I see a +person, simply known as B.22, told off to escort Jenin; I see Rastakov +keeping an eye on them both; earnest consultations take place in the +baron's apartments. To my surprise, I learn that this Bernard Jenin +is in possession of nothing less than the Tarraschin document, and I +gather that there is a plot to rob him of it. + +"Then, having for a month past played the silent part of an unseen +spectator, I decide to step in! + +"I saw Rastakov go straight from the baron's room to that of Jenin, +and I put a spoke in his wheel. I warned Jenin to look out carefully +for a better hiding-place, and safer friends; he hardly said a word, +but simply vanished. I wondered which way he had gone, but I could not +follow him, because it became necessary for me, once for all, to take +up a definite attitude as regarded the baron. I now learn for the first +time, that Jenin dashed off to the Copper House, that Rastakov promptly +followed him, and that they have, in all probability, murdered him +there." + + * * * * * + +Maurice Wallion told his story rapidly, and almost without a pause. The +silence which succeeded it lasted so long that it began to get on Leo's +nerves. It seemed to him as though the mere fact of having listened to +this fantastic tale brought with it some sort of responsibility--an +awakening sense of duty. + +"Do you think, too, that Jenin is dead?" he asked, just to break the +silence. + +"One can think anything, when one knows nothing," replied Wallion +gravely. "I would rather have no theory than one which can be proved +to have no foundation. But that Jenin, as soon as I have rescued him +from one danger should run straight into another--that he should turn +up so apparently unnecessarily at the Copper House, right in the +middle of the hornets' nest, seems so senseless, that Lona Ivanovna's +revolver-shot only puts the finishing touch to the story! The only +thing that really puzzles me is why Sonia Bernin should have cried out: +'Sergius!'" + +"Where do you suppose Tarraschin's document can have got to now?" + +"Possibly into Lona Ivanovna's, or more accurately, into Andrei +Bernin's hands. At any rate, Rastakov did not get hold of it." + +"How can you be sure of that?" + +"In this way: if he had been able yesterday to report the discovery of +the document to the baron, and he in his turn to Ortiz, they would have +not made such a frantic search amongst all my belongings later in the +evening. They would have held all the trumps in their hands, and would +have considered me comparatively harmless. But instead of that, they +have turned my room at the office topsy-turvy, and have tried to do the +same thing here, to find that paper, and that assures me that Rastakov +has not discovered it at the Copper House--yet!" + +"That seems probable," Leo agreed; "so you knew how they had ransacked +your office?" + +"Yes, Robert Lang telephoned it. But they carried off nothing more +important than a photograph of Sonia Bernin." + +"They didn't even get that!" cried Leo, triumphantly. "Look what I +have! I got there first!" + +There was such simple pride in the young man's look and words, that the +Problem-hunter burst out laughing, and gave him a hearty slap on the +back. + +"Ah, now you are playing tricks on me," said he; "it's the Finger of +Destiny, or the Master Mind, or whatever else you like to call it. It +is quite evident that we two must coöperate!" + +"Yes, we _must_ do something," declared Leo, who had certainly never +shown himself so decided in the whole of his life. "I am glad you +summoned me home from California. We mustn't let things slide: we must +keep a sharp look-out on what is going on at the Copper House." + +The Problem-hunter looked pleasantly surprised at the reiterated "we +must," and began to think that this young fellow had something in him +after all. + +"You heard what I said about Ortiz," said he warningly. "Don't imagine +that the Man in the Whirlpool is a myth, and can be abolished in half +an hour. He exists, and he is dangerous." + +"Dangerous!" exclaimed Leo, coloring a little in his excitement. "With +you to back me, who can call a man from the other side of the world, +without saying a word to him! I know nothing of Ortiz, but at any rate, +he has got you for an enemy!" + +It was plain to see that the young man, like almost all those who met +Wallion, had surrendered unconditionally to his suggestive personality. +The calm voice and the keen eyes inspired Leo with unlimited +confidence, and, at this moment, his mobile, rather undecided face took +on a look of the journalist's, with his determined mouth and chin. + +Wallion, who was watching him, took up his tumbler quickly to hide a +smile, and said: "Unfortunately, though we know nothing about Ortiz, +he knows all about us. He has the advantage of us there. But he and his +satellites are suffering from one drawback: there are too many of them. +'A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.'" + +"And it's just that link we have got to find," cried Leo. + +"Yes, that's exactly what I was trying to do yesterday afternoon, +while I was keeping Fayerling's counterspies at arm's length. I found +that the man we know under the pseudonym of B.22, who escorted Bernard +Jenin to Stockholm, has in some way incurred the baron's suspicions. I +profited by this, and managed to fall in with B.22." + +Here the journalist looked at his watch, and broke off: "I say, how +time has flown! It is past six already!" + +He extinguished the lamp, and they could see a glimmer of daylight +between the thick curtains, which he now flung open. Waves of bright +sunshine streamed into the room, and when the window was opened a +refreshing morning-breeze blew softly in on their heated faces. They +both inhaled it with enjoyment, and Wallion said: "Another day! I +wonder if Gabriel Ortiz slept last night--not without dreaming, I'll +wager. As long as there is a doubt about Tarraschin's memorandum ... +but who knows, everything may be cleared up in an hour's time!" + +"Why are you looking out into the street?" + +"To see if the house is watched." + +"And is it?" + +"Fortunately not. We are lucky." + +"How odd you look! One might think you were waiting for somebody. +What's up?" + +"I am expecting B.22. He was to be here at about seven." + +Leo jumped up. "B.22 coming here?" + +"Yes, the poor chap is scared stiff, and is inclined to betray Ortiz +to save his own skin. I have promised to help him, as soon as he has +made a full confession, though I doubt whether he will prove a very +creditable witness...." + +The door-bell rang; Wallion went to answer it, and a man came +in hurriedly, holding a newspaper in his hand. It was the young +journalist, Robert Lang, and he was so much out of breath that he could +not speak for a minute, but handed the paper to his Chief with a silent +gesture. + +"You are out early," remarked Wallion coolly, though he already guessed +the truth. + +"No," retorted Lang hastily, "say rather, too late! Wallion, they have +forestalled us again--B.22 is dead!" + +"Dead!" echoed Leo and the Problem-hunter together. The latter, to +whom Lang had handed the paper, glanced through it, and came to an +underlined paragraph, which he read aloud: + + 'SUDDEN DEATH IN THE STREET LAST NIGHT.' + +"'About eleven o'clock last night, a middle-aged and rather poorly +dressed man was found dead upon one of the benches in the Railway Park. +The man, who was apparently one of the many unknown strangers who are +so frequently to be met with in Stockholm at the present time, seems to +have died quite suddenly, no doubt in consequence of a heart-attack. +Nothing was found in his pockets, except a card upon which was written +in red ink, "B.22." It is therefore impossible to identify him. He was +dressed....'" A brief description followed. Wallion threw down the +paper, and asked: + +"Is the _Morning Post_ the only paper that gives the news?" + +"Yes," replied Lang; "it must have been one of their reporters who came +across him." + +"Have you verified the report?" + +"Yes, the dead man is B.22, there's no doubt about that." + +"No," said Wallion slowly; "no doubt about it. We might have expected +it. Poor wretch! the Whirlpool has sucked him in!" + +"He makes the third," said Leo, looking much disturbed. "We _must_ give +notice to the police now!" + +Wallion, who was standing with his head bent, now looked up. + +"The third, if Bernard Jenin is really dead," he said. "But how can +the police help us? What's the good of bringing an accusation against +one Gabriel Ortiz, when no one has any idea where to find him? Or to +arrest Fayerling or Tassler, against whom we have not a shadow of +proof? Or to tell the fantastic history of Tarraschin's memorandum +which none of us has seen? Go to the police, if you like--and in +a week's time we shall be scoffed at as the most arrant liars and +slanderers in Europe, and that is saying a good deal in this year of +grace 1917!" + +"But--aren't we right?" asked Leo, amazed. + +"We haven't the _right_ to be right, as long as we can't _prove_ that +we are! And you see, they have robbed us of our proof before we could +take advantage of it." + +"What shall we do, then?" + +The Problem-hunter's gray eyes began to sparkle with indomitable +energy. He spoke rapidly, but in such a tone that every word was +impressed upon their minds. + +"Lang, you go straight off to Lawyer Burchardt as soon as his office is +open, and inform him on Mr. Grath's behalf that the Copper House is not +for sale. You may tell the lawyer, under the seal of secrecy, as much +of the truth as is necessary. After that, wait for further instructions +from me." + +Robert Lang looked at Leo. + +"Yes," said he quickly; "it's quite correct, I have no intention of +selling the Copper House to those people." + +"And you, Mr. Grath," continued Wallion, "are presumed to be locked +up in your bedroom at the present minute, fast asleep at the Copper +House. It's a grand position, at the very center of all that's going +on. So, catch the first train out to Karkby, and get back to your room +the same way you left it--as long as nobody sees you doing it!" + +Leo drew a deep breath. + +"But supposing anyone saw me in Stockholm last night?" + +"Nobody would have dreamed that you would be here, and that fellow +outside my door had quite enough to do to look after himself." + +"And what about you? what are you going to do?" + +"I am coming with you to the Copper House!" + + + + + _Part II--The Twentieth of July_ + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + _Lona Ivanovna asks her first question_ + + +When a house is guarded with such infinite precaution as was the +case with the Copper House, it becomes, as Wallion expressed it, "a +pleasantly exciting adventure" to enter it by broad daylight, without +being seen. + +By his advice, they had quitted the train one station beyond Karkby, +and gone the rest of the way on foot, through the wood. They crossed +the southern boundary as an invading army crosses the border of a +hostile country: by forced marches, and with intense caution. + +As soon as they reached the top of the hill, they could see at some +distance through the trees, the massive roof of copper which was their +goal. The sun shone brightly in the still atmosphere; no smoke issued +as yet from the chimneys of the great house; the unploughed field in +front of it lay bare and desolate. But, on looking to the left, they +caught sight of a man sitting motionless upon a stone at the outskirts +of the wood, with his face turned towards the field, and a gun between +his knees. It was one of the forest-guards. + +"We seem to be in luck," murmured Wallion. + +"Luck!" echoed Leo irritably. "They are watching the path and we shall +not be able to go a hundred steps without being seen...." + +"Just so. It is lucky that they are watching the Copper House _so +openly_. If we had not found that sentry posted there, I should have +felt uneasy, for it would certainly mean that your escapade last night +had been discovered, and a trap laid. But now they are keeping guard as +they always do, and we can go happily on." + +Wallion moved forward, but Leo pulled him back by the coat. + +"What are you going to do?" he whispered. + +"To make a flanking movement," replied the Problem-hunter. + +They skirted the hill behind the sentry, and approached the avenue by +slow degrees. Suddenly Wallion halted. + +"There's another of them!" he whispered. + +They could see another armed man some way beyond them; like the first, +he was staring idly at the field, and they heard him yawn loudly, after +which he filled and lighted his pipe; the smell of tobacco was wafted +up to them. + +"Look, they are waking up in the Copper House," whispered Leo. + +Smoke was rising from one of the chimneys, and the Problem-hunter gazed +critically at it, remarking: + +"In twenty minutes' time, they will knock at your door to tell you that +breakfast is ready." + +"They are bound to find out directly that I am not there," answered Leo +quickly; "we can't possibly get in now without being seen." + +"Where there's a will, there's a way! We'll try, at all events." + +Wallion spoke with irresistible decision, and Leo dared not protest. +They passed, at some distance, a third sentry, and were now close to +the avenue, and about half-way up it. The huge trees formed a sort of +roof above them, and the trunks bordered the path like a fourfold row +of dark, massive pillars. Wallion looked all round. + +"That's our best way," said he: "come along." + +"The avenue?" said Leo. + +"Yes, where else? Why go in by the back way, when we can arrive in +style, sheltered by these great trees? Remember that they keep a +look-out on the avenue from the porter's lodge, and anyone seeing us +here will take it for granted that we belong to the house. Forward!" + +He took Leo by the arm, and began to walk up the avenue. + +"Step out," he said smiling. "They see us now, but they aren't paying +us any attention." + +It was difficult to say whether any of the three sentries whom they had +just passed, and had now left on their right, took the slightest notice +of the two men in the avenue; at all events, they raised no alarm, +though Leo, hardly daring to breathe, expected them to do so at any +minute. + +Wallion moved softly and swiftly, as though making for some definite +point, and Leo followed him as best he could; five minutes later they +made a half-turn to the left, and saw the Copper House straight in +front of them. + +"Which is the window of your room?" whispered Wallion. + +"On the north side, second floor, hidden by the trees. I have climbed +up the spout to that window any number of times in my life, without +being caught...." + +"I fancy we shall manage it again now," remarked Wallion, but at the +same instant he pulled Leo back among the bushes. + +Somebody was coming. Steps crunched on the gravel, and a man passed +quite close. Presently they crept out of their hiding-place, and saw +the person, who had gone by without suspecting their proximity, mount +the terrace-steps, and disappear in the direction of the house. They +both recognized Rastakov. While they still hesitated to advance any +further, they heard his steps again; he had gone the round of the +house, and was now standing on the terrace. They dared not raise their +heads, for his face was turned their way. They could hear him light a +cigarette, and the next few seconds seemed interminable. Then the glass +door leading to the hall opened with a crash, and a harsh voice said: + +"Maxim Rastakov!" + +"What is it, Lona Ivanovna?" + +"Allow me to tell you, Rastakov, that if you don't turn out that filthy +tramp who is sitting in the kitchen, and the miserable object who +stands and yawns in the hall, I shall do it myself." + +"Not yet, my good Lona Ivanovna; not until you tell me where I can find +Bernard Jenin." + +"Haven't you searched the whole house? Do you think I have hidden him +in one of these drawers? You needn't make faces; you are quite ugly +enough as it is...." + +Rastakov laughed. + +"Lona Ivanovna," said he, "go upstairs and wake the young fellow who +fancies that he owns this house, and see that he comes out here without +noticing anything. We can talk about Bernard Jenin afterwards." + +"Don't I tell you that he has gone!" + +"Yes, I haven't a doubt of it! He's gone, but _the matter doesn't end +there_! When you can show me _how Bernard Jenin disappeared_, I will +remove those men. But only on one condition: mind that the blue light +appears every evening." + +There was something ominous in the cold, clear tones of Rastakov's +voice, which made Leo's blood run cold. A pause followed. Then the old +lady said, as harshly as before, but with rising anger in her voice: + +"See to the blue light yourself, Rastakov. Perhaps it may show up your +face in its proper setting, and let people see what a scoundrel you +are!" + +"They have realized that already, Lona Ivanovna, and that is why they +make use of me." + +He laughed again loudly, went down the steps of the terrace, and +disappeared down the avenue. The glass door slammed again, and all was +still. + +Wallion sprang up, pulling Leo with him. + +"Quick, quick," he whispered; "now we know how the land lies; they +are keeping watch indoors, and your absence last night has not been +discovered. Quick, to your room." + +They could see above them the open window of Leo's bedroom, and without +more ado, Wallion climbed with noiseless agility up the copper spout, +and swung himself over the window-sill. + +Leo followed him with greater difficulty, for, in his nervous +excitement, his heart was beating so rapidly that it made him feel +faint and breathless. + +"Here we are, at last!" said the Problem-hunter, seating himself on +a chair, and taking stock of his surroundings; "an uncommonly jolly +little room! Give me some idea as quickly as you can, of the geography +of the house, so that I may know how to find my way about it." + +But this was asking too much. Leo had thrown himself speechless on +the bed, and did not answer. Wallion looked at him more closely, and +saw that he was shivering as though with cold, and that beads of +perspiration stood on his forehead. + +"Look here, you must keep those nerves of yours in better order! Yes, +I know neither of us had a wink of sleep last night, but you will feel +another man when you have had a splash in cold water, and changed your +things: do it now!" + +"I left my luggage at Stockholm," murmured Leo, without moving. "But it +doesn't matter...." + +"Well then, take a nip out of my pocket-pistol," said his friend, +perseveringly. "There, you see, you're better already." + +And, in fact, Leo sat up, after a mouthful from Wallion's silver flask. + +"What's the good?" asked the young man slowly. "Now we are here, after +so much trouble, it seems to me we can't do anything. If we stop where +we are, we shall be no better than prisoners, and who knows what may +happen when they discover that you are here? We have voluntarily +deprived ourselves of liberty...." + +"No," replied the journalist decidedly; "we have gained it. Full, +unlimited liberty to be in the very place where they least want us. +They will do all in their power to get us out of it. I say 'us,' +because they will not remain long in ignorance of my presence here, +although several things will probably happen first." + +"No doubt about that. There will be plenty of movement--but as for +liberty--that's quite another matter!" + +"Don't misunderstand me," said the Problem-hunter, with a steely glint +in his eye. "In Stockholm I was obliged to keep a constant look-out, to +try and discover my opponents; here, I can see enemies freely on every +side of me, and may expect a fresh one at any minute. The situation is +perfectly simple--we have only to be prepared!" + +"Are you armed?" + +"Of course! I have a perfect arsenal, what with a pair of eyes, two +ears, a tongue, and my brains. Don't you think that's enough? Well, +here's a revolver into the bargain. That will do for Rastakov." + +"Or for Lona Ivanovna, who shot Bernard Jenin!" exclaimed Leo +impetuously. "You may joke, but I...." + +The journalist came and sat down beside him. + +"Why, now you are angry," he said calmly; "that's good, it shows you're +in working order again." + +Nobody could resist Maurice Wallion when he chose. Leo began to smile. + +A soft breeze from the wooded hills around them blew in upon them, +cooling and refreshing: a blue butterfly was fluttering in the folds of +the white window-curtains. + +"How can I be angry!" said Leo. "But you are so--different from other +people. Here we have just smuggled ourselves into a house which is full +of mysteries, and probably of powerful enemies as well, and you sit +down and deal in paradoxes. You are playing with danger!" + +"My dear fellow," replied the journalist, "when one has got to the +point of playing with danger, it means that one has first learned to +estimate it correctly. A hunter does not judge of the strength of a +lion merely by shooting it. He tracks it to its lair, 'plays' it, so to +speak--and in that way forms a true estimate of its individual powers." + +"Stop, stop!" entreated Leo, holding up his hands in mock surrender. +"You will be making me say next, that Rastakov is my dearest friend!" + +"And you couldn't do a wiser thing," retorted the journalist +imperturbably. "The wind would be quite taken out of his sails, and he +would become wax in your hands." + +He bent forward, and added impressively: + +"What you _must_ do--and now I am speaking quite seriously--is to be a +really staunch friend to Lona Ivanovna and Sonia Bernin." + +"What about Andrei Bernin?" + +"I intend to befriend him myself, for a reason that will probably +surprise you both. But now it is time for you to go downstairs." + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour later, Leonard Grath came down into the hall. Sure +enough, there by the glass door sat a man, his gun propped against the +wall, within easy reach; he got up as soon as he saw Leo, and stood at +attention. The young man went past him into the dining-room, where he +could hear low voices. The breakfast table was laid near the windows, +and with some surprise, he realized that they were waiting for him. + +Sonia Bernin was standing by the window, and when she turned and saw +him, she greeted him with a friendly smile. Lona Ivanovna, who had been +talking in a low and impressive tone, also turned round. Leo bowed. As +a self-invited guest, he found the situation a little awkward, but his +hostess said frankly: + +"Good morning, Mr. Grath. I am afraid we left you very unceremoniously +yesterday evening, but I trust you will remember that a place will +always be laid for you as long as you give us the pleasure of your +company." + +"It is most kind of you," mumbled Leo. He noticed for the first time +that the old blind author was also in the room. Andrei Bernin was +sitting in an armchair, stiff and upright, in a listening attitude, +near a window on the left, with the curtains drawn. In his dim corner +at the end of the room, he looked like some grotesque and inanimate +mask, with his white beard, blue spectacles, and black velvet +skull-cap: a pathetic and immovable figure, laid aside and forgotten. +As Lona Ivanovna's masculine profile and vigorous form bent over the +blind man, the contrast was so acute, that Leo could not help feeling +touched by it. + +"Andrei Ivanovitch," said his sister, "this is Mr. Grath." + +"I'm very glad to make your acquaintance, sir," said Leo. + +The blind man bowed, and held out a thin, but white and well-kept hand. + +"We are all glad that you have come," said he, in a voice as low and +gentle as a softly tinkling bell. "But why have you come alone?" + +After a pause, during which Sonia raised her head and looked at Leo, +the blind man repeated his question, still more slowly and mechanically. + +"Why have you come alone?" + +Lona Ivanovna also cast an inquiring glance at the young man. The +blind man had clutched the arms of his chair, and was bending forward; +little wrinkles undulated over his worn face, and the blue spectacles +gleamed like two steel mirrors. Leo, whose thoughts were centered on +the journalist hidden in his bedroom, felt like a prisoner at the bar. + +"I am certainly alone," he said slowly, "though I didn't come alone." + +"Ah, indeed," said the blind man, in a tone which suddenly resembled +his sister's. "Not alone? And who was your companion?" + +"He was a stranger to me," explained Leo. "Bernard Jenin was my +traveling companion in the train yesterday." + +The expression of the faces around him changed suddenly, and became +cold, strange, and secretive. It seemed almost as though the sunny +atmosphere of the room was charged with electricity, which sent a shock +through him, and a new light dawned upon him. He perceived that these +three persons were unhappy, weighed down by an unknown catastrophe, +or by the apprehension of an imminent one. He had been cruel: he had +reopened a wound. They were looking at him as though they saw in him +an executioner, and Sonia's eyes were misty with tears. The old man's +voice broke the silence: + +"We mustn't judge by appearances. Important conclusions are often based +on very slight grounds. And although I cannot see you, I can feel what +you are thinking. The question is, whether Bernard Jenin is still in +the Copper House, or whether Lona Ivanovna killed him last night, at +sunset." + +Leo raised his hand involuntarily, and took a step back. The blind man, +who sat with his white head turned towards him, continued softly: + +"What, are you afraid of your own suspicions? At sunset, that's a good +time to die! Why do you let the matter trouble you so deeply? There are +so many brave fellows, a hundred times better than Bernard Jenin, who +are lying dead in a hell of carnage, that it seems almost a luxury to +die of nothing worse than one little revolver-shot." + +"Mr. Bernin!" burst out Leo violently, "I have not expressed any such +suspicion!" + +"No, _I_ have expressed it. To banish a groundless suspicion it is +often enough just to put it into words. Some thoughts won't stand +that proof. You said you saw Bernard Jenin in the train, and you have +guessed that a mystery attaches to his arrival here. But why need the +mystery be a criminal one? Why must you feel obliged to extort an +explanation which would be willingly given to you, if it were possible?" + +Leo did not hesitate a moment. The frank words acted upon him like a +fresh breeze, blowing away the cobwebs, and he exclaimed: "I will not +insist upon any explanation. You do not know me; I cannot claim to be +your friend, but at any rate, do not regard me as your enemy." + +Lona Ivanovna had crossed her lean arms upon her breast and she laughed +grimly. It struck Leo how much alike Andrei Bernin and his sister were, +in spite of their outward dissimilarity. The same quiet and resigned +manner, the same intellectual strength, characterized them both. He +could not understand how he had seen in the blind author nothing more +than a weak and senile invalid. + +"Well, well!" said the old lady, "I see that we are agreed. So let us +have breakfast." + +The tension was eased, though a certain amount of constraint still +remained. Only Leo and Sonia Bernin exchanged a few commonplace remarks +every now and then. + +As soon as they got up from the table, the elder lady took out her +interminable crochet, as if it was the only thing that mattered; then +she leaned over the table, looked the young man straight in the face, +and inquired: + +"When is Maurice Wallion coming?" + +"I--I can't say," answered Leo, taken by surprise. "Why do you ask me?" + +"Because, if he has a mind to rescue Bernard Jenin a second time, he +has my permission to be quick about it!" + +Leo was tempted to tell the truth about the journalist's hiding-place, +but he contented himself with answering: "I am convinced that he will +come--but he will choose his own time." + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + _Unrest in both camps: an outpost skirmish and a warning_ + + +It was raining in Stockholm: heavy clouds were drifting over the sky, +and an occasional peal of thunder rolled over the wet, glistening +roofs. At the office of the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company, +Marcus Tassler stood looking gloomily out at the rain. He was alone in +the two showily-furnished rooms, for he had sent out the typist who was +his only assistant, if one excepts those who came and went on business +that had nothing to do with the purchase and sale of tea and coffee. He +was alone with his thoughts, hence his gloom. + +He was thinking principally of the baron--who had inspired him with +a certain amount of dread that morning--and of the future, which he +dreaded even more. He was aware that he was standing on dangerous +ground, and he knew that his one hope of escape was--in plain +English--to cut and run! That is an unpleasant conviction for anyone, +and especially for a man whose most prominent characteristics are an +oriental love of pleasure and a barbaric thirst for gold. + +Marcus Tassler gulped down half a glass of old cognac, and lighted a +dark cigar, with a band round it. He looked at that minute like some +fat, pagan high-priest, engaged in mystic rites, and in forecasting +gruesome omens from the sacrificial offerings. + +Baron Fayerling came in without knocking. He greeted his partner with +a diabolical smile, provoked partly by Tassler's harassed expression, +partly by his empty glass. He appeared to be in a hurry, for he kept +his hat on, and remained standing, leaning on his cane. + +"Well!" said Tassler sharply. "You are late. Have you caught him?" + +"No," replied the baron. "That duffer I sent up to his flat last night, +came back in a panic, reporting that the journalist was at home, +and had a visitor into the bargain--since then, Maurice Wallion has +vanished as completely as Pharaoh in the Red Sea." + +"Does nobody know who his visitor was?" + +"No." + +"And when our men searched his room at the office, did they find +nothing?" + +"No. Nothing! Nichts! Rien!" + +The baron uttered each successive negative with an explosive emphasis +which made his companion wince. He added: + +"His being away wouldn't matter so much if I had not the written proof +that the fellow is set on exterminating us. Can you imagine anything +cooler than his treatment of Rastakov and myself! Informing us frankly +that he will fight us for the Tarraschin document--for, of course, +that's what he is after." + +"At any rate, he can't get anything now out of B.22," remarked Tassler. + +"Out of whom?" said the baron sharply. "What may B.22 be? I'm not +acquainted with the witness." + +"Oh, come, baron, between ourselves! From the way in which he died, I +can pretty well guess whom you sent...." + +The baron collared the fat man, and shook him till he quivered like a +jelly. + +"Idiot!" he cried. "You will chatter your head off some day! We don't +speak about dead men." + +When the baron loosed his hold, Tassler filled and drained his glass +once more; his hands were trembling, and his eyes wandered uneasily +round the room. + +"I don't like that business with B.22," he muttered. "What's the sense +of employing persons whom one has to kill as soon as they get to know +anything? The Chief said nothing about murder, when we first discussed +our plans." + +"Nonsense. In such an undertaking as ours, there must always come a +time, sooner or later, when we can stick at nothing. But that's no +business of yours. Have you been to see Burchardt?" + +"Yes, I have been to him." + +Tassler thrust his hands into his trouser-pockets, and confronted the +baron. + +"Yes, _I have_ seen the damned lawyer! Fayerling, they _mean_ to fight +us: there is something up. Maurice Wallion is at the back of it, devil +take him!" + +His bloodshot eyes turned towards the glass, but he abstained, and went +on with dry lips: + +"That Burchardt is a fox. He looked at me quite differently when I +came in, and was twice as obliging as he had been before. I mistrust +people who grow politer the better one knows them! He was ready to lick +my boots! I thought everything was going smoothly, and I was saying +that as I had heard that the owner of the Copper House was in town, +and the matter was urgent--when suddenly, the old rascal, who had been +listening to me without turning a hair, said, quite softly: + +"'Mr. Grath has changed his mind. He is not thinking of selling the +Copper House, before he has gone into the matter thoroughly.' I can +tell you, I nearly fell off my chair: 'Not sell!' 'No, very sorry--old +traditions--family inheritance,' and all the rest of it. To hell with +the old traditions! They are on our track, Fayerling, they mean to 'go +into the matter thoroughly!'" + +Tassler almost groaned as he said these words, but after a minute, he +glanced at the baron with the humiliated surprise of a story-teller who +sees his best point fall flat; the baron looked perfectly unconcerned. + +"So they decline to sell," said he, slowly. "I guessed as much. Leonard +Grath is at the Copper House, and no doubt he has been warned by +Wallion. You are right, we are in for a fight." + +"Fayerling, Tarraschin's memorandum will be the ruin of us!" + +"It would, if we were all as blind and as cowardly as you. Can't you +understand that no human beings ever had greater luck than we had, when +Bernard Jenin, contrary to all expectation, fled for refuge to the +Copper House." + +"But Rastakov couldn't get hold of him!" + +"We have to thank the old she-grenadier for that. Andrei Bernin and +his sister evidently mean to play for their own hand, but I intend to +smoke out that wasp's nest--the Bernins won't be of any more use to us. +Of course, Bernard Jenin counted on their help, although Lona Ivanovna +seems to have played the wrong card. Oh well, the document is there, at +any rate, as safe as though it were in a strong-box...." + +"Who is Bernard Jenin really?" + +"How should I know? A knave or a fool. You have heard that in Moscow +he went by the name of Doctor Zero, and he managed to get the document +from our agent, who was on the point of bringing it here. At first I +thought it was all up, but thank goodness, Jenin was idiot enough to +travel direct to Stockholm, and had B.22 at his elbow during the whole +journey: he simply had him on a string! And, not content with coming to +Stockholm, no sooner had that journalist rescued him from room 23, than +the silly fool runs straight off to the Copper House. And then you +come and say that we have no luck!" + +Tassler sucked away at his cigar with his thick lips: his eyes looked +like two china marbles. + +"Can I see his photograph?" he asked in a hesitating voice. Fayerling +threw it down in front of him, without a word. + +One might have thought that Tassler was afraid of the picture: he held +it at arm's length, between his thumb and finger, whilst a curiously +fixed expression came over his face; he felt as though an electric +shock had gone through him, and he tottered slightly. + +"You must be drunk!" said the baron, with cold disapproval; but this +diagnosis, though founded on past experience, and supported by the +witness of the empty glass, was incorrect. Marcus Tassler was perfectly +sober, though his legs were giving away under him, and his brain was +spinning like a Catherine wheel. He sat down. + +"Fayerling," he whispered almost inaudibly, "do you know who Bernard +Jenin is?" + +"A common thief," replied the baron contemptuously. + +"Don't call him that!" snarled the other, with sudden vehemence. "A +common thief! And what are we, then?" + +"Well, who is the creature, then?" + +"It is Sergius!" + +The baron started. The news fell upon him like a bolt from the blue, +and he stared at Tassler with a look of keen inquiry. Finally he gave +a short and somewhat ironical laugh, and said: + +"Sergius! The much-talked-of Sergius, whom I have never seen! Of +course! Now we know what took him out to the Copper House. I might have +guessed." + +He reached for the photograph, and examined it carefully, after which +he put it back in his pocket. + +"So little Sergius has a finger in the pie--on his own account! This +will amuse Ortiz immensely. What a joke! Now we have only to hold out +our hands for Tarraschin's memorandum: Sergius will be delighted to +give it up to you as soon as he sees you, Tassler." + +"He loathes me." + +"That's no business of mine, it's your own affair. All I can say is +that you must manage to get speech with him, by Lona Ivanovna's help. +Why man, with such cards in our hands, we can't help winning the game. +When is the next train to Karkby?" + +Tassler's fishy eyes seemed to conceal all manner of dark and crafty +thoughts. + +"When is the Chief to arrive?" he asked after a pause. + +"This evening, or, at latest, to-morrow." + +"How much does he know?" + +"Nothing of Sergius' arrival, or Wallion's interference. He expects to +find Tarraschin's memorandum in our hands; his plans are ripe, and he +is growing impatient. Things are going to move a bit in the Copper +House, before we are many hours older. Every man is at his post, and we +mustn't let any risks hinder us now. Come along." + +He took Marcus Tassler by the arm, and they went out together. + + * * * * * + +As soon as breakfast was over, Leo hurried up to his room, but Maurice +Wallion was no longer there. A little thread of blue smoke was still +curling up from a cigarette in an ash-tray on the window-ledge; the +window had been fastened, which Leo interpreted to mean that the +Problem-hunter had not left the room that way, but was making a +reconnaissance inside the house. + +The young man went out into the corridor, and before he could say "Jack +Robinson" the journalist confronted him, calm and smiling. Leo started, +and looked anxiously round, but Wallion said: + +"Go downstairs again, and try not to look as though you were accessory +to a crime! I have only been looking about me a little. Where does that +winding staircase lead to, in the lumber-room at the back?" + +"Down to a little passage between the kitchen and the back door," +replied Leo. + +"Can one reach the first floor that way?" + +"Yes, there is a landing and a door there." + +"That's fine! Have you met Andrei Bernin?" + +Leo described in a few words what had taken place. + +Wallion smiled again, and said: + +"So they are expecting me?" + +"Yes, anxiously. Something seems to have alarmed them; they have quite +changed their attitude since yesterday." + +The Problem-hunter nodded thoughtfully. + +"That's to be expected; they are beginning to wake up now. I shall set +to work when Marcus Tassler has been here." + +"Do you think he is coming?" + +"Yes, he is bound to. You must receive him!" + +Wallion fixed his gray eyes for a moment on Leo. + +"You are keeping cool, that is right. Don't forget that I am here." + +He nodded once more, and slipped quietly away. Leo saw him vanish in +the direction of the back stairs; he was beginning to think that this +man was independent of sleep at night, and breakfast in the morning, +and he marveled at the buoyancy of his disposition. + +Sonia Bernin's voice called from below: + +"Mr. Grath, where are you?" and he went downstairs. + +A bank of cloud was drifting slowly up from the direction of Stockholm; +the sun shone palely from an almost colorless sky. A distant rumble of +thunder sounded through the uncomfortably close atmosphere like the +echo of a cannonade. + +The young man went out with the girl into the garden. He could see, +through the dining-room window, the blind man sitting in the shadow +of the curtain, with his sister, who was working as usual. At some +distance away in the garden, a man with a knife was cutting a bunch +of red flowers. He wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, and a blue apron. +It struck Leo that the garden was the only part of his property that +showed signs of being carefully, and even lovingly tended. It was +fragrant with the scent of old-fashioned flowers: silky-soft sweet peas, +white stocks, and modest mignonette, growing between beautiful crimson +and deep yellow roses. A carpet of velvety pansies contrasted with the +brilliant display of sunflowers, peonies and dahlias. Some way off, +the orderly ranks of the useful vegetables were marshaled; pale-green, +dark-green, and purple cabbages, crimson beetroots, and regular masses +of radishes, carrots and parsley. Cucumbers lay beneath the panes of +the forcing-frames, and behind the glass walls of the hothouses was a +mighty though nondescript array of reserve forces in green uniforms. + +"What colors!" said Leo. "Your gardener must be an artist...." + +"That's Rosenthal," said the girl, pointing towards the man in the blue +apron. "He is mad on flowers!" + +They approached the man, who looked up as they reached him. His face +was fair but sunburnt, with light-blue eyes and a kindly mouth. He +touched his cap, but in such a way that Leo saw at once that he was a +well-bred man. + +"Good morning," said Leo: "'il faut cultiver notre jardin,' +n'est-ce-pas?" + +"Voltaire was wrong there," replied the man quietly: "it is not a duty, +but a pleasure to cultivate a garden." + +He spoke as to an equal, and Leo raised his eyebrows and looked at him +more attentively. There was something military in his bearing, but his +speech was that of an educated man, and his thoughtful eyes were those +of a poet. + +"You love color, don't you?" Leo continued. + +"Yes," answered the man, "especially purple; it is the color of +royalty--and of revolution." + +"A good idea," Leo agreed. At that minute he felt the girl give his arm +a little tug. + +The man went on quietly with his flower-cutting, and after a second's +almost awkward silence, Leo turned away, feeling that he had been +tacitly dismissed. + +"Why did you pull my arm?" he asked, softly. + +"It is Rosenthal," whispered the girl: "he speaks in a way that somehow +frightens me. And Rastakov too...." Sonia's voice broke a little; her +complexion looked transparently clear this morning. + +"Everything seems so strange since last night," she went on: "something +is going to happen!" + +"What is it? Why won't you be frank with me?" + +The girl did not reply. They were standing amongst the rose-bushes at +the corner of the terrace. Some distance away in the garden, Rosenthal +straightened himself up, shading his eyes with his hand. As he looked +down the avenue a whistle sounded suddenly from the direction of the +gate; he threw down his knife, and went off to the kitchen, carrying +the cut flowers in his apron. He came out again almost immediately, and +walked quickly away. At the same time, Lona Ivanovna opened the front +door, and stepped out on to the terrace. + +Two persons now appeared in the avenue: one was Rastakov, the other a +short, stout gentleman, who looked very warm and agitated. + +"Do you know who that is?" whispered Sonia. + +"No," answered Leo. + +"It is Marcus Tassler." + +The newcomers went up to the terrace, where Lona Ivanovna received them +with what seemed to Leo to be an air of undisguised hostility. + +"You come in good company, Marcus! But, to make your trio quite +complete, you should have brought the baron with you. What do you want?" + +Tassler went up to her; his eyes were bloodshot, and his face had +turned a sort of sickly gray color. + +"Baron Fayerling is here," he answered hoarsely, "he is coming +immediately; where is Sergius?" + +"And _you_ ask for Sergius?" she exclaimed shrilly;--"you have no +right...." + +"Who has a better right than I?" + +"You have forfeited it. Besides, things have changed; I don't trust +you any longer, Marcus. Mind what you are about! The fire is kindled, +opposition awaits you at every turn--and as for Sergius, he is where +you will never get hold of him!" + +"Lona Ivanovna," said Tassler in a stifled voice: "I warn you, it is +impossible to stop us!" + +Sonia had seized Leo's hand quite unconsciously in hers, and was +squeezing it tightly. + +"Oh, God! Oh, God!" she moaned softly. + +Tassler turned his head and caught sight of them. Leo went up to him, +and both men raised their hats simultaneously, whilst the young man +said: + +"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Tassler; I am Leonard Grath. I don't +know if you have come out here to see me, but in any case...." + +"Yes, I have come to speak to you," said the other heavily. "I hear +that you no longer wish to sell the Copper House: is that true?" + +"Perfectly true," replied Leo politely. + +Marcus Tassler looked at him as though this reply was not unexpected, +and puffed away at his cigar. + +"My client is prepared to increase his offer," he said after a minute. + +Leo smiled. + +"It is not a question of increasing the offer, but of the entire +rejection of any offer whatsoever.... Besides, your client is Mr. +Andrei Bernin, isn't he? I have been talking to him, but he didn't +allude to the matter; it does not seem to interest him any longer," +added the young man boldly. Lona Ivanovna stood listening to them, her +eyes bright, and her lips tightly shut: but she said nothing. Tassler +turned to her: + +"Can I see Andrei Ivanovitch?" he asked sharply; "Rastakov tells me +that your brother is up...." + +The old lady turned, and went indoors. + +"Allow me to show you the way, gentlemen," she said, over her shoulder. +Her voice and look bore traces of an inward conflict. + +Another peal of thunder rumbled in the distance. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + _The situation becomes acute_ + + +Maurice Wallion had gone down the winding staircase just as the +gardener came into the kitchen, and from his hiding place he heard +Rosenthal inquire in a low voice: + +"Where is Rastakov?" + +A gruff voice, which obviously belonged to the man on guard by the +kitchen door, replied: + +"He is at the lodge." + +There was a little rustling sound, as Rosenthal threw the roses down on +a table, and he called out: + +"Here are your roses, Lona Ivanovna. I hear you have visitors, and +Tassler and the baron are expected," and without waiting for an answer, +the gardener went out again. Wallion, who had remained motionless on +the stairs, heard a distant sound from the front of the house, and +hesitated over his next move. Presently he went up to the first floor +and, after listening a little, he opened a window at the back of the +house, and jumped softly down. He slipped into the shrubbery, and +skirted the wall of the terrace until he came in sight of the main +entrance. He heard the old lady request the gentlemen to follow her, +and saw them enter the house behind her. Rastakov and the young girl +remained together, and the former said shortly: + +"What are you waiting for?" + +She went up to him, and said, in a grave voice that contrasted oddly +with her girlish appearance: + +"Justice must be done. That is what I am waiting for." She looked +straight at Rastakov's swarthy face, and he returned her gaze fixedly. + +"Justice! That is a wonderful word, Sonia Andreievna. There is no +justice nowadays; the bayonets have put an end to it. The future is +blood-red, Sonia Andreievna; don't pin your hopes to it." + +He spoke in a hard, bitter voice, then turned and left her. + +The girl put both her hands up to her face, and ran down the terrace; +like some little lost animal, she stood still, then ran on again, +crying softly to herself. At last she threw herself on to a bench, +under the shade of the syringa trees, crouched down in the farthest +corner of it, and buried her face in her arms. A low murmur of voices +could be heard through the open windows of the dining-room. + +Wallion, concealed by the trees, took a few steps towards the avenue, +and saw in the distance Baron Fayerling approaching, accompanied by the +lodge-keeper, Tugan, and two of the forest-guards. They were walking +briskly along, at the pace of a marching patrol. At the same moment, +the Problem-hunter made another, and far from reassuring discovery: +across the field on either side of the avenue, he noticed a number of +men, posted at equal distances from each other, and stretching as far +as the eye could reach ... a double "cordon" was being drawn round the +Copper House. Double, indeed: for when Wallion turned round, he saw +five or six fellows with guns file on to the terrace from the opposite +direction, and take up their position close to the house. No chance of +getting past them! + +He was caught in a trap: the outer "cordon," which embraced a +considerable area, was being gradually contracted. He calculated the +number of men to be about forty. + +"They have brought reinforcements," he reflected. "Something must be +going to happen; the gang is assembling--they only want the great, +invisible Gabriel Ortiz to make things complete"; and he looked all +round him, and bit his lips. A few raindrops were beginning to patter +on the dry leaves, and towards the sea, dark thunder-clouds were +gathering in heavy masses. + + * * * * * + +Lona Ivanovna appeared again; she went over to her niece and took her +by the shoulder. + +"Come indoors," she said softly and gently; "Sonia, I believe that a +miracle _might_ happen, but we must keep a brave face, and never cry +for quarter." + +The girl got up; her eyes were dry now, and she took her aunt's hand, +like a child, and went in with her. + +It was very quiet in the dining-room, where the others were assembled. +Tassler was standing in the middle of the room, Leo by the window on +the right-hand side, and Rastakov--his arms theatrically folded--by the +door. No one was speaking, but it was evident that something had just +been said which astonished them, and they were all looking at the blind +man in his armchair, as though they expected him to say something more. + +Andrei Bernin was sitting with his white head turned towards them: now +and then, he rubbed his hands as though they were cold, but he remained +silent. + +"It is very strange," said Tassler at length, in a thick, grumbling +voice: "it is most extraordinary, Andrei Bernin, that you did not find +this out before. You state that you no longer wish to buy the Copper +House, because you are too poor! You owe both Mr. Grath and myself an +explanation." + +"I never said that I was rich enough to buy the Copper House: it is as +much as I can afford to remain here as its tenant. Why do you ask me, +Marcus, when you know that you have always managed everything?" + +"Exactly, I undertook to see to all your business for you. You--poor? +Why, man, you have been ill for so long, that your ideas have grown +quite hazy! Your money has multiplied enormously, invested in the +Finno-Russian Import and Export Company: don't you realize that?" + +Tassler spoke rapidly and loudly, as though he anticipated some +interruption; he mopped his cheeks and forehead with his handkerchief, +and looked at Andrei Bernin with a very unwonted expression of +obsequious servility. + +"Surely you are capable of understanding as much of your business as +that," he continued ... "of course, I have done my best for you." + +"Perhaps," answered the blind man; "perhaps you have, Marcus; but I am +not going to buy the Copper House." + +Tassler lifted his small, plump hands, and turned to Lona Ivanovna. + +"Always the same! This poor brother of yours hasn't the slightest idea +of business! I begin to think that you must have acted on your own +responsibility during his illness. Can't you make him see reason?" + +"I don't think that is necessary," she answered quietly. + +"You don't?" + +"No, not since yesterday--when Sergius came here." + +"Sergius!" + +"Yes--Marcus, up to yesterday, I still believed in you, and allowed you +to act for us. That's all over. Now you must act for yourself." + +"And that is the most difficult of all," added the feeble voice of the +blind man, philosophically. + +Marcus Tassler turned distinctly paler; it was impossible to ignore the +challenge in Lona Ivanovna's tone and whole demeanor. Even Leo noticed +it, and to relieve the painful tension, he said pleasantly, and as +unconcernedly as he could: + +"Yes, there we are agreed, my dear Mr. Tassler. When the purchaser will +not buy, nor the seller sell, the whole transaction comes automatically +to an end. For the exact details, I must ask you to be so good as to +refer to Mr. Burchardt." + +Tassler turned to him, with the ponderous agility of a hippopotamus. + +"I will do so, Mr. Grath." + +"That will be all right, then." + +"And I shall tell him that you have refused the best offer that has +ever been made for a property," continued Tassler. "_My_ conscience is +clear, at any rate." + +"Not altogether, Marcus," said the blind man from his corner. + +Tassler's obsequiousness cracked like a mirror at a blow from a hammer, +and behind the mirror appeared a very different face, with angry eyes, +distorted features, and lips drawn back in an ugly snarl. + +"Listen to me, Andrei," he cried out quickly and breathlessly: "and +you too, Lona. I can see quite well that Sergius has bewitched you. +Take care! Sergius is not what he was, he has taken the wrong road, and +anyone who shelters him is bound to be ruined." + +"What do you want?" she asked. + +"I want to speak to him, before it is too late." + +"It is _too_ late, now!" + +"That's impossible!" + +"Marcus Tassler, it is all over. You cannot alter things now." + +"Not I, perhaps, but certainly...." + +"Certainly who?" a voice interrupted him, and the baron came into the +room. "Can you mean me, by any chance?" + +Tassler was silent. The baron had staged his entrance with the skill +and aplomb of an accomplished actor. He advanced with the friendly air +of a casual visitor, but no one could ignore the imperious gesture with +which he imposed silence upon his partner. The lash was inflicted with +a smile: + +"By Jove, Tassler, how you do hold forth! Madame Ivanovna, don't let us +dispute over trifles. Be so good as to introduce me to your brother and +to the owner of the Copper House." + +As the old lady did not move, he completed the ceremony himself, with +easy grace, pressing the blind man's passive hand, and bowing low to +Leo. + +"You have a remarkably fine old property, Mr. Grath," he remarked, "but +it is very much out of the world, and all sorts of queer things might +happen here, without anybody having the slightest suspicion of what was +going on. I am thinking more particularly of the case of Bernard Jenin, +and what is likely to be the result of it." + +He smoothed his D'Annunzio beard, looked from one face to another, and +repeated thoughtfully: + +"What the results may be." + +A pause followed these words. The blind man remarked: + +"Logic teaches us that one of two results will follow: either Bernard +Jenin will be captured, or he will not. I incline towards the latter +hypothesis." + +"Indeed!" replied the baron. "Logic is a wonderful science, my dear Mr. +Bernin; I also argue logically, and I say: Bernard Jenin certainly came +to the Copper House; he certainly did not leave it again: therefore he +must still be in the Copper House. It is as easy to prove as this other +little syllogism: Thieves deserve punishment: Bernard Jenin is a thief: +therefore Bernard Jenin deserves punishment." + +"Are you not first bound to prove that he is a thief?" suggested Leo, +and Sonia flashed a grateful look at him. + +The baron affected to be much surprised, and turned courteously to the +speaker: + +"Certainly," he admitted, "but only to those whose business it is to +plead for the thief." + +Leo colored. + +"As the owner of the Copper House," he said more sharply, "it seems to +me that I have a right to know whether I am harboring a thief in my +house, or not." + +"Most assuredly. Will it content you if I can show that the fellow +robbed me?" + +Leo replied with a stiff bow. + +"Well, Mr. Grath, allow me to inform you that an important paper--the +so-called Tarraschin memorandum--whilst on its way to me from Russia, +was stolen by Bernard Jenin, and is still in his possession. Tassler +and Rastakov are my witnesses; is that sufficient?" + +"Yes, if no one takes exception to your statement, or to your +witnesses." Leo looked at Lona Ivanovna, but, to his surprise, she +turned her face away. + +The baron smiled superciliously, and the young man, irritated, he knew +not why, said deliberately: + +"No doubt you are right; and you are quite at liberty to call in the +police." + +Rastakov made an involuntary movement, but the baron checked him with a +glance, and answered: + +"The police? Yes, I would do so, if I had plenty of time to spare, and +if I was not unwilling to compromise my dear friends here----," and he +looked at Andrei Bernin and the two ladies. "As it is essential that I +should have the paper by this evening, I must unfortunately take the +matter into my own hands." + +"Leave him alone!" interrupted Lona Ivanovna harshly, turning to Leo: +"haven't you had enough of his accursed conversation?" + +Rastakov, Tassler and the baron burst out laughing. + +"You are really _too_ delightful, Madame!" said the last named person; +"what do you say, Mr. Grath? Have we your leave to search for Bernard +Jenin?" + +"I am of the same opinion as Madame Bernin," replied the young man, +with equivocal civility. + +Baron Fayerling's smile vanished. + +"Then we quite understand one another, Mr. Grath?" + +"Perfectly, baron." + +The baron stepped out through the open window, and shouted a few words +in Russian. A dozen figures hurried up from the terrace, and marched +noisily into the hall. The baron exchanged a couple of sentences with +Tassler, in a rapid undertone, and went out into the hall with Rastakov. + +Marcus Tassler sat heavily down on a chair, and stared at Lona +Ivanovna, who, with unruffled composure, had returned to her place near +her brother; she went on with her crochet and took no notice of Tassler. + +"What a cold-blooded woman you are, Lona," said the merchant, in a +rather faltering voice. "After all, this affects Sergius...." + +"No need to tell me that," she replied, shrugging her shoulders; "you +may go to your lord and master: you have nothing to do with Sergius." + +He was silenced by the caustic bitterness of her voice, and remained +with his mouth open, staring vaguely and irresolutely across the room +at the blind man and his sister. + +Sonia went quietly up to her father, and leaned her head against his +shoulder; the blind man began to stroke her black hair clumsily. + +Leo felt acutely distressed: these three unfortunate beings, whom he +already regarded as his friends, seemed so far from him, that he could +not summon up courage to say another word to them. They were withdrawn +into the intimacy of their home-circle, and he remained outside like +a stranger. With the agonizing sensation of being the witness of a +tragedy into whose inner meaning he had no right to intrude, he left +the room silently, without looking at them again. + +As he came into the hall, which was empty, a new and alarming thought +struck him; what had become of Wallion? He heard the baron's voice, +echoing sharp and clear down the well of the staircase. + +"Take each floor in turn, and keep guard whilst you search the rooms. +You, over there, don't pass over that corner--don't leave a stone +unturned. Rastakov, take a couple of men with you, and search the +attics thoroughly. Be sharp, now!" + +It was evident that the searchers meant to leave nothing to chance +this time; the furniture was moved about, the walls sounded, and the +tramp of many feet was heard in each room in turn, till the whole house +seemed full of men. If there were really anyone hidden in the Copper +House, thought Leo, he would certainly be found within ten minutes: +what was the journalist doing? + +The young man listened, his heart beating fast. Now they were on +the second floor, and coming to his room. He ran upstairs, with the +desperate intention of preventing them from entering, but he was too +late. As he came into the corridor, Rastakov was just leaving the room, +and Leo saw with indescribable relief, that the Russian's face was dark +with disappointment. They passed one another without a word, and Leo +shut himself quickly in. + +He flung himself into a chair, and buried his head in his hands; what +should he do? His mind refused to work, and he stamped his foot in +impotent vexation. + +Had the journalist been caught in a trap, and helplessly resigned +himself to his fate? Had he discovered Bernard Jenin's hiding-place? + +"Did you look in here?" he heard the baron ask just outside the door. + +"Yes," answered another voice further along the passage; "Rastakov has +been there." + +"Go on, then." + +The steps and voices grew fainter. Leo had not raised his head. +Suddenly he heard a slight sound on the floor close to his feet; a +paper lay there, wrapped round a pebble. He picked it up, and saw that +there was something written on the paper; he unfolded it, and read: + + "Don't worry, things are going as I expected. I have concluded some + useful investigations, and shall soon make myself known. M. W." + +Leo sprang up. The window, which had been closed earlier in the day, +had been opened later, and he realized that the little note had been +thrown in through it. But he could not see a sign of the journalist +outside. Only Rosenthal was walking slowly along, in his blue apron and +broad-brimmed straw hat. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + _Maurice Wallion looks about him a bit and makes a new acquaintance_ + + +As soon as the Problem-hunter saw Baron Fayerling go into the Copper +House, he felt convinced that a crisis was at hand. + +"Fayerling's arrival is a bad sign," he thought, "I would rather see +Ortiz himself. Where on earth can he have got to?" + +He lay still for several minutes, wondering how he could manage to +dodge the cordon of men which was closing in round him from the +direction of the field. + +"It's high time I gave Robert Lang his final instructions--but how am I +going to do it?" he pondered. "It is important for me to remain here, +especially on Grath's account, as it is largely through me that he has +got into this fix. The Copper House is completely surrounded, and these +fellows would be able to shoot the lot of us, without anyone being near +enough to help us. It is odd that they should have left the telephone +at the lodge in working order, and cut off the one at the house. If +only I could get down to the lodge!" + +He took stock of the advancing forces, and made a wry face: as things +were, he was obliged to admit that it was impossible to get past them. +The only chance of escape was on the other side, towards the sea. He +might possibly be able to reach the railway station in some roundabout +way, and telegraph or telephone to Lang from there. He crept back along +the terrace-wall, almost within reach of the seven or eight men who +kept guard above, and began with great circumspection to make his way +seawards. He passed behind the stable and cowhouse without meeting +anybody, and as soon as he got in amongst the trees at the foot of the +ridge, he started running over the soft carpet of brown pine-needles, +and short grass. But in a few minutes, hearing steps and voices ahead +of him, he turned off to the right. He got an occasional glimpse of the +sea, gleaming through the trees, and went on boldly in that direction. + +Suddenly he shrank back, and crouched down behind a thick cluster of +bracken. Just where the ridge ended, on the left, he had seen three +forest-guards walking towards him, and further on his right, between +him and the sea, he espied yet another figure with a gun. + +Had he been seen? Apparently not, but he decided that with so many men +about, that way was impassable, too. + +He gazed longingly at the calm, glittering Bay, which was practically +an inland sea, the entrance being almost closed by a long, wooded +island. Exactly below him, a path ran from the house to a dilapidated +pier, on the left of which stood an even more tumble-down marine store, +or fisherman's cottage, with a tiled roof and one small, unglazed +window. A little way out from the pier was anchored a lighter, of the +type of those which one frequently sees being towed in long lines +through the island channels. A slender column of smoke was rising from +the cabin chimney, and on the gunwale sat a man in a cotton shirt, +fishing. While Wallion was watching him, he cautiously drew in his +line, and landed a fish, which gleamed like silver in the sunlight. + +But it was not the sight of the lonely fisherman which specially +attracted the journalist's attention: it was a long, white scar in +the side of the lighter, just above the water-line. It looked just as +though someone had taken a huge knife and made a gash three or four +yards long through the tarred planks. An ice-floe, swept along in a +strong current, might have done it--but the mark was fresh, and last +winter's ice had melted long ago, under the summer sun. + +Wallion roused himself from his speculations, for the men who were +descending the ridge were getting dangerously near him, and he beat a +retreat for the second time towards the house. He moved without hurry +or nervousness, but he was forced to admit that he had never been in +a tighter corner, and he felt certain that the men who now surrounded +the house had come to stay. It was worthy of notice that these extra +guards were drawn up facing the building: evidently their aim was +not so much to keep out any unauthorized visitor, as to prevent those +inside the house from getting into communication with the outer world. +Perhaps they already knew that Wallion was somewhere on the premises! +This possibility made him look serious: if they knew where he was to +be found, all was up with him. He stood still and listened. The three +men were slowly walking along behind him; on the right he could hear +other unwelcome sounds of twigs snapping and bushes rustling; there +was open ground to the left, but even that was not unoccupied--four of +the forest-guards were marching across the field in a line with his +hiding place, and if he remained there, nothing could prevent his being +discovered. + +"What a nuisance," he thought, with annoyance, "I have only one +resource left, and that is Rosenthal." + +Once more he retraced his steps, passed the cowhouse again, this time +on the other side, and scrambled over the palings into the orchard, +which at this lower end was neglected, and overgrown with tall, waving +grasses. + +He now found himself just behind the gardener's little red cottage, and +as he peeped cautiously round the corner, he could see one side of the +terrace, and the southern wing of the house, with the kitchen door. +He saw something else as well: that there was no chance of getting in +there now, for men were turning up on all sides, under the windows and +behind the bushes; something was going on indoors, probably a fresh +search for Bernard Jenin and the memorandum, but no voices could be +heard: an almost uncanny silence prevailed. + +Wallion kept close to the cottage wall, and stood on tiptoe to look +through one of the two windows. The gardener's house consisted +apparently of a living-room and a kitchen, with an adjoining +tool-house: it was at the window of the latter that he was standing. +Nobody was there: the sun shone on hoes, spades, rakes and watering +cans, shelves filled with flower pots of all sizes, worn-out scythes, +and a perfect arsenal of gardening-knives. + +Wallion opened the window with his penknife, and climbed in. Through a +door which stood ajar, he could see part of a room alongside: a table +by the window, with flowers growing in glasses and pots, a smaller +table with books and newspapers on it, and an old rocking-chair. + +And in the rocking-chair sat Rosenthal, who called out, as he caught +sight of him: + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Wallion; I was just expecting you!" + +The journalist stepped into the room. + +"Did you know that I was in this part of the world?" + +"I have seen you already this morning; you are every bit as venturesome +as I hoped you would be. I saw you as you were climbing in through the +window with Grath. You see, that happened to be my 'beat'; no one has +come to or from the Copper House since yesterday afternoon without my +knowledge. To avoid all misunderstanding, I may tell you that I also +observed our friend Grath's little escapade last evening." + +The gardener spoke very deliberately and accurately, with a slight +accent. His ruddy face and blue eyes were lighted up with pleasant +anticipation. The journalist sat down opposite, and lighted a +cigarette, first offering his case, which the other declined. They +looked at one another with an expression of mutual understanding. + +"You are far more daring than I," said Wallion, "since you have +ventured to live in this neighborhood for several months, Mr. Max +Raebel." + +The gardener got up, and shook Wallion warmly by the hand, then sat +down again, smiling all over his face. + +"Quite right, I am Max Raebel," he said; "how do you know that, as you +have never seen me before?" + +"I saw you when you were cutting roses in the garden; in talking to +Grath, you raised your head, and I recognized the best detective in +Austria, disguised as a gardener. Oh, no need to be modest about it--of +course I have heard of you a hundred times, and equally of course, I +have your portrait in my collection. I have long suspected that someone +of your calibre was taking a hand in the game, but couldn't find out +under what name that somebody was working. Since you have managed to +secure such a good place--right in the stalls!--I suppose you have +succeeded in gaining Fayerling's confidence in some extraordinary way?" + +"Not at all, it was perfectly easy; I got a recommendation from Madame +Sumensov in Petrograd." + +"From Madame herself?" + +"Yes, for nobody knows as yet that she serves two masters with equal +fidelity!" + +"No, it is news to me. You probably know, as I do, that she is a tool +of Ortiz? Are you not afraid she may betray you to him?" + +"That's one possibility. Another is that I shall have finished my work +here before she can do so," replied the Austrian very calmly. + +He glanced out of the window. + +"They are beginning to get nervous," he added; "nervousness is the +beginning of panic, and panic is half-way to defeat." + +They both looked at the Copper House for a minute, and saw Rastakov +appear at one of the upper windows, and shout an order to the men on +the terrace. The baron came out, and looked up at him. Rastakov made +an angry gesture, implying that he had had no luck, to which the baron +replied with a shrug of his shoulders, and called out in his cool, +clear voice: "Look more carefully!" + +The Austrian laughed. + +"Yes, look, my boy, look!" he echoed. + +Wallion turned round. + +"In the meantime, Ortiz is on his way here," he remarked. + +"Yes," said the other, "we are all waiting for him, aren't we?" + +Wallion pulled out his notebook and laid it on the table. + +"Mr. Max Raebel, let us compare notes: first, you have only been here +since April 29th, at all events under the name of Rosenthal. You only +began to interest yourself in Ortiz's affairs after the Tarraschin +document appeared on the scene; therefore this document is what you are +on the look-out for: may I ask why?" + +The Austrian's fair face and friendly eyes clouded over a little, and +he did not answer immediately. + +"I am no politician," he said finally; "I am a detective, and sent out +with a definite end in view. My task is to make sure that Tarraschin's +memorandum does not fall among thieves, to prevent it from being +illegally employed, and, in the last resort, to destroy it. One of +the statesmen of my country, whose name you may perhaps guess, but I +must not mention, would be deeply compromised were that document to be +unscrupulously handled." + +The Austrian bent forward. + +"And not only he, but a more exalted personage still," he added. + +Wallion opened his eyes. + +"Aha," he said, "that is worse than I feared!" He considered a little. +"I took it for granted that Tarraschin's scheme affected Russia only." + +The Austrian shook his head. + +"Let me tell you something, Mr. Wallion; everything that happens +nowadays is of world-wide importance; all that concerns Tarraschin's +memorandum is highly characteristic of the circumstances which have +produced it. Look back a bit; the Russian Revolution had long been +expected, but who could have foretold that it would break out in March, +1917? It fell upon Europe like an avalanche, the sudden upheaval of a +mighty mass; and not as the immediate result of some great ideal, or +political disturbance, but apparently in consequence of the scarcity +of food at Petrograd. At all events, the way was prepared for it, and +once set going, the landslide crashed down into the depths, leaving +devastation in its wake. Was it possible to restore order? This was +a question in which all countries were interested. Before anything +else, it was of the utmost importance to ascertain the policy of the +Russian Conservative party, the State officials, the officers of the +army, and certain members of the Tsar's immediate 'entourage'--all +those, in a word, who belonged to the governing class. Would they be +strong enough to organize a counter-revolution before the new men had +grown powerful enough to check them? Even on March 15th, the Tsar had +virtually abdicated the throne; was that a sign of the disintegration +and consequent ineffectiveness of the reactionary party? No, for +they still had a symbol round which to rally: there was the army. At +that moment, Prince Tarraschin appeared on the scene. Do you know his +history?" + +"Yes, more or less. He was one of the most typical leaders of the old +régime. It was he who got the reputation of having run through one +fortune every year! He was a daring politician, and a friend of the +Grand Duke Nicolai--an intelligent man, and perhaps an honorable one, +according to his lights." + +"There is no doubt as to his intelligence," said the Austrian; "now +let me tell you what he did. One can hardly say that the Revolution +ruined him, for he had just about ruined himself. But he could not +bring himself to accept it: to him, the Revolution was the end of all +things. His one idea was that power and mastery must be regained at +any cost. He set to work undauntedly, and for a short time it looked +as though he would succeed in winning over the strongest element in +the Conservative party to his cause. He drew up an ingenious scheme +of counter-revolution; he had two methods of dealing with waverers: +promises and money. The history of Tarraschin's promises you have +probably never heard: it is like a fairy tale." + +"Go on, go on," said Wallion, as the Austrian stopped; "I know +something about Tarraschin's correspondence with certain individuals in +Austria." + +Max Raebel raised his eyebrows. + +"You know that, do you? But you say 'certain individuals,' there was +only one, the Austrian statesman to whom I alluded just now. The +highly confidential correspondence between him and Tarraschin had to +do with Balkan affairs, and was concluded before the outbreak of the +March Revolution. There was no question, as people declared, of any +understanding with Austria, in the event of the establishment of a +democratic Russian monarchy desirous of peace; it was an absolutely +private discussion between two political specialists, so to speak; yet +at this crisis, Tarraschin did not hesitate to avail himself of this +correspondence. He represented my countryman's statements in the light +of promises inspired by a higher authority, an authority which had, +as the whole world knew, an intense desire for peace. In this way, +Tarraschin managed to secure one more means of support, calculated to +strengthen the weaker brethren amongst the reactionaries. It mattered +nothing to him that he was compromising two of the most highly-placed +dignitaries in my country. Next, as regards funds----" + +"Ah, there our paths meet, Mr. Raebel," broke in Wallion; "the funds +for Tarraschin's intended revolution were supplied by Gabriel Ortiz." + +"Exactly. Ortiz financed the enterprise through a channel, at one +end of which we find Tassler and Fayerling, but at the other, Madame +Sumensov and Tarraschin. How much gold has been distributed by their +means, is more than I can say." + +"I can give you a rough estimate: it was, in round numbers, fifteen to +twenty million roubles." + +The Austrian laughed. + +"Really! A perfect fortune, and the last which Tarraschin had the +pleasure of squandering, for, as you know, he died suddenly on the 29th +of March. There is no doubt that he was assassinated, and not by the +revolutionaries, but by his own friends." + +For the first time during their conversation the journalist looked +surprised. + +"Do you mean his political associates?" he asked. + +"Yes. They were mortally afraid, as soon as they realized how +irretrievably Tarraschin was about to compromise them. Instead of +replacing the crown on the Tsar's head, they were in danger of finding +their own heads removed from their shoulders. And with characteristic +Russian philosophy they said to themselves: 'It is better that one +man die for the people.'... Nevertheless, our friend Tarraschin had +already done his worst: he had drawn up a detailed memorandum of the +plans for the counter-revolution, in which he had set down with the +most scrupulous exactitude what each one of the participators had +pledged himself to do--with name, place and time, in full; everything +very skilfully thought out, and perfectly feasible, and from a military +point of view, quite certain to result in over a hundred executions. +And, in addition, as I said just now, it compromised two persons who, +like Cæsar's wife, must be above suspicion." + +"One might fancy," remarked the journalist, "that Ortiz had had a hand +in the production." + +"Not a doubt of it: he would want some hold over the men who were +receiving his money, and with this paper in his possession he can +compel them to do anything he likes. Tarraschin's death is of no +consequence in comparison with the possibilities raised by his +memorandum. It constitutes the keystone of Ortiz's gigantic scheme: +without the memorandum, the whole of his plan will melt into thin air." + +"And in consequence, we can pretty well guess his present designs," +supplied Wallion. + +They looked at one another. + +"He is magnificent!" said the Austrian. + +"But quite mad!" replied Wallion. + +A step was heard outside the window, and a shadow fell across the +glass. It was Rastakov. The journalist flattened himself against the +wall, with a noiseless wriggle of his body. The gardener got slowly up, +yawned loudly, and opened the window. + +"What do you want, Rastakov?" + +The man outside was breathing heavily. + +"Why are you not with us, Rosenthal? The baron wants to know if you +have seen anyone leave the Copper House; we cannot find Bernard Jenin +anywhere." + +"I have not seen any unauthorized person leave the house," said the +gardener; "why is the baron so persistent? I told you yesterday evening +that Bernard Jenin had disappeared, Comrade Rastakov." + +"He cannot have disappeared. He must be somewhere on the premises. The +baron has decided that the house and its surroundings are to be totally +isolated, I can tell you that. All those inside are prisoners, even +Grath. Be ready for anything; the Chief is due this evening, and within +the next twenty-four hours we shall probably have cleared out of this." + +"You may depend upon me," the gardener reassured him. + +Rastakov stood for a minute, shifting undecidedly from one foot to +another, then took his departure. + +The Austrian's face wore a new expression of military decision and +firmness. + +"Well, they have burnt their boats now!" said he; "and may I be there +to see the end of it," he added after a pause. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + _In which we catch a glimpse of the shadow of Napoleon the Great_ + + +The Problem-hunter and the Austrian detective remained standing +together, and watching from behind the curtains a commotion at the +house. Some kind of dispute seemed to be taking place there, the cause +of which became apparent when they heard Lona Ivanovna's commanding +voice exclaiming: "Out you all go!" + +Quite a number of men came tumbling out on to the terrace, and the old +lady appeared behind them at the kitchen door; she was like a Valkyrie +of old, and the men quailed before her as trees bend before a gale. + +"Why, goodness me, men, you have your precious master there, haven't +you?" said she, pointing one long, bony finger at the baron; "he can +tell you that there isn't a spot the size of a farthing in this house, +which hasn't been examined. You can all see that Bernard Jenin is not +here; ask your Roumanian baron if he can suggest any corner in which a +fugitive could still be hidden." + +"That will do, madam," said the baron, sourly; "we have not finished +yet: we know what we know...." + +"Perhaps you don't know what I know, for all that!" + +"And what may that be?" + +"That you are a worthy leader of the biggest set of blockheads I have +ever seen!" answered the old lady, with a loud laugh, as she shut the +door again. + +Baron Fayerling shrugged his shoulders, and went off with Rastakov; +Marcus Tassler hurried after them, and the three men disappeared down +the avenue. But they left the house under the close supervision of a +cordon of dark, determined, armed men, who, after a few apparently +aimless movements in different directions, extended their line in such +a way as to include the gardener's cottage within its limits. + +The two detectives at the window commented on this fresh turn of events +with critical approval, rather as though they had been two spectators +in a box at the Opera. + +"Rastakov has managed that well," said Wallion, smiling; "now all the +approaches to the house are effectively isolated--and we with them." + +At that instant, a sharp shower that almost amounted to a squall, swept +over the garden, whirling away, like a gray specter, across the woods +to the southwest. A deep stillness followed; everything was motionless, +and each little leaf shone like glass in the hot, dazzling sunshine. +The broad expanse of the steep copper roof, which was green with +verdigris, took on a more richly enameled glow, and the very roses in +the garden seemed to deepen in color. + +"_You_ are isolated," said the Austrian after a moment's silence, "but +_I_ have a certain amount of liberty--don't forget that I am one of +them--for the time being." + +The journalist laughed. + +"What's become of your two under-gardeners?" he asked. + +"Rastakov has mobilized them." + +"Are they...." + +"They are nothing more nor less than--Bolsheviks!" + +It was the first time that the word had been mentioned by either of +them, and Wallion bent forward. + +"Do you know that for certain? I presume you have discovered that +Rastakov has dealings with the Bolshevik gang?" + +The other nodded. + +"It set me thinking," he admitted; "they support Ortiz with +extraordinary keenness, though I don't believe he half knows what ideas +Rastakov cherishes inside that ugly mug of his. Of the men he has under +his orders, half, to my knowledge, are Bolsheviks, that is, they belong +to the extremist party which is working to overthrow Kerensky. Ortiz is +working for that also, but from another motive. + +"The situation is involved, and if Rastakov gets to know the real +import of Tarraschin's memorandum, there may be a surprise in store for +our friend Ortiz." + +"A Bolshevik revolt is in progress at Petrograd at the present time," +remarked Wallion, thoughtfully; "all depends upon what Ortiz intends +to do. Do you think he is still there?" + +"At Petrograd? I did not know he was there at all: I imagined him to be +in Finland!" exclaimed the Austrian. + +"Yes, at the beginning of this week I could tell, by various signs, +that he was in Petrograd. But now that the Tarraschin memorandum has +been snatched from under his very nose, he is naturally coming here, +and should arrive this evening, at latest." + +"Yes, as soon as it is dark enough." + +"Does he always come at night?" + +"Always, since the end of March." + +"I guessed as much," said the journalist, "when I saw how the side of +the lighter had been knocked about: some sort of craft had evidently +come alongside in the dark. But tell me, why does that blue light, +which looks like an acetylene flare, appear every evening?" + +"It is some kind of signal which they show from the lighter, and it +burns every evening at such times as Ortiz is expected. They do it +these nights, especially, as they are engaged in shifting a secret +cargo on board the lighter." + +"A secret cargo? Arms, you mean?" + +"Yes, a good deal of stuff was brought here on the motor-launch +_Nelly's_ contraband trips. It was a sad blow for Ortiz when the +_Nelly_ was captured, but, as one would expect, they had obliterated +all traces very skilfully, and the police made no search here. There +are still several thousand Mauser rifles, packed in wine-cases, as +well as a quantity of other articles, calculated to influence Russian +opinion as regards the reactionary program!" + +Whilst the Austrian talked, he was unconsciously smelling a fragrant, +red rose, which he had picked up, and his voice was as unruffled as a +mild spring day. + +"Where did they store all those things before they were moved to the +lighter?" asked Wallion. + +"Isn't that down in your notes, yet?" retorted the other, looking up +from his rose with a smile. + +"I was looking round a bit, and it struck me what a good hiding place +there would be under the hay in the cowhouse." + +"You've hit it! What sharp eyes you have! But I don't think we need +waste much time over contraband goods. Only a minimum of weapons have +been despatched from here; Ortiz has probably bought the greater +part of his stock in Russia itself, for the ruffians who once formed +the Tsar's fine army, sell everything they can lay hands on--rifles, +machine-guns, ammunition, everything--even heavy artillery! And to +anyone who wants them! And cheap!--eight or ten roubles for a nice +little cannon: five for a machine-gun." + +The Austrian burst out laughing, and Wallion smiled. + +"These are fine times for adventurers," said he; "we need only look out +of the window to see that. What an extraordinarily tangled web the War +has woven in this one little spot. Bernard Jenin with the Tarraschin +memorandum: Baron Fayerling and Marcus Tassler with Ortiz' millions: +Rastakov with his Bolsheviks: the Bernin family: the question of +contraband: and at the back of them all, the hitherto invisible Gabriel +Ortiz, with his shadowy and fantastic schemes." + +"If we could get hold of the memorandum, we could break up the whole +gang," interrupted the Austrian; "if only I knew what they had done +with Jenin!" + +"You still think he is in the house?" asked the journalist, with an odd +smile. + +"Most assuredly, for he has never left it, that I can swear to. You +have not once gone in or out unobserved: _I_ saw you. Oh, he is +certainly there--but where?" + +Maurice Wallion wrote a few lines on a piece of paper, and handed it to +his companion. + +"Will you do me the favor of getting this in some way or other to +Leonard Grath?" he said. "I won't show myself yet, though there is +little more for us to talk about, except the beginning of all these +mysteries. Perhaps you never heard of the Emperor of the Amazons?" + +"No," replied the gardener, looking surprised. + +"Then I'll tell you about him; I'll wait for you here, whilst you +deliver my message to Grath." + +The other man looked curiously at him, and said: "Good! I can see +you are better informed on some subjects than I am. You stay here, +and if you think you hear anyone else coming, just go into the +tool-house--you'll be safe there--or go up into the loft." + +He indicated a wooden staircase in the corner, took up the note, and +went out. Wallion watched him from the window go slowly up the garden, +and disappear round the house. Dark faces popped up here and there +behind the bushes at the sound of his footsteps, but on seeing that it +was Rosenthal, they vanished again noiselessly. + +Five minutes later he returned, and Wallion noticed, with some +annoyance, that he was now accompanied by two stalwart forest-guards, +of a peculiarly bovine cast of countenance. + +The three men stopped outside the door, and a lively conversation +followed, in which they were joined by five or six of the other men, +who came strolling up to listen. Suddenly a name was mentioned which +made the journalist prick up his ears. + +"Wallion isn't far off," said one of the men. + +"And who may he be?" growled another. + +"Rastakov says he is a detective. It looks as though we may have to get +out of this to-night, if we have a fellow of that sort on our track, +but if he turns up before we are ready to quit, I guess he'll find +trouble awaiting him. We needn't be too particular now, you know!" + +"But how shall we get away from here?" asked a doubtful voice. + +"Oh, don't bother me, that's the Chief's look-out: he'll see to that +when he comes. What are you going to do, Rosenthal?" + +"Go indoors, and get a bit of sleep," replied the gardener. "I was on +guard all last night, it's your turn now; besides, we've all got to be +up to-night." + +A chorus of protest greeted this announcement, but Rosenthal dispersed +them with a few vigorous expressions, and, as soon as they were gone, +he opened the door, and came in to his visitor. + +"Grath has got your note," he said quietly. "I threw it in at his +window, and made sure that he had picked it up, before I came away. Did +you hear what those fellows were saying?" + +"I seem to be in great demand!" replied Wallion. + +"They believe that you are on your way here; two men are awaiting +your arrival at the station, and others are patrolling the roads. +Practically the whole gang is assembled here, and ripe for anything. +The baron has shown them your portrait, so they know what you look +like, and if you attempt to leave here, and to get into communication +with your friends, you had better take the precaution of having an +aeroplane handy!" + +"I shall certainly stop where I am: it's very cosy here," said Wallion. +"But where did the baron get a picture of me?" + +"He probably cut it out of some newspaper. What do you say to having a +bit of lunch, whilst we discuss the situation?" + +"I say yes, with all my heart," laughed the journalist. "Can we count +on being left in peace for so long?" + +"Yes, on the whole. The baron and Tassler have returned to Stockholm, +and are not expected back for three or four hours: this is the calm +before the storm." + +The Austrian set to work on his preparations for lunch with the skill +of an old campaigner, and the journalist lent a hand, so that in a +quarter of an hour's time they were sitting down to a simple but +plentiful meal. + +When they had finished, Wallion lighted a cigarette, leaned back in his +chair, and looked at his watch. + +"Three o'clock," he remarked. "Let's have a chat, before things get +going again." + +"Yes," said the Austrian eagerly. "You mentioned a very curious title: +'Emperor of the Amazons,' I think it was; what sort of a Royal Nonesuch +was he?" + +"You don't know the history of Gabriel Ortiz's earlier fortunes, then?" + +"Oh, does it concern him? No, I have never heard his story: it ought to +be an interesting one: let's hear it, at all events." + +The journalist gave a brief sketch of Ortiz' youthful escapade in +Paris, his rash adventure as Emperor of the Amazons, and his daring +finance as the "Coffee-King" of Wall Street. The Austrian listened with +breathless interest, and as Wallion finished, he exclaimed: + +"All this is new to me. One may call it a fit prelude to the great +drama of his life. That he imagines himself to be descended from the +great Napoleon, explains a good deal; he is not the first to delude +himself with that fable, and I daresay that he, like most of the other +'soi-disant' descendants of Napoleon, has altogether omitted to provide +any proofs of his statement?" + +"He stated that his grandfather was a natural son of Napoleon the +Great, born during his captivity at St. Helena; the mother was said to +be a young Creole, named Anita Ortiz. To begin with, Gabriel Ortiz' +father, at that time a wealthy Brazilian citizen, became acquainted +with the great secret of his family, and for many years he sought +in vain to establish the facts. After the Amazon adventure, Ortiz +was interviewed by an American reporter, and was simple enough to +boast that, with his noble birth, and his genius, he would show the +world once again to what heights a descendant of Napoleon could +rise. The result was, that the well-known Professor Hichens devoted +twenty minutes of his valuable time to our friend, and within that +time, completely annihilated his claim. The Professor proved that +no woman named Anita Ortiz had ever been at St. Helena at the time +specified, and that all the so-called natural descendants of the +imprisoned Emperor had been shown beyond a doubt to be impostors. As +far as I know, Gabriel Ortiz had nothing to say in reply. The whole +thing was simply the creation of a young man's imagination, but very +characteristic of this particular man." + +"It is certainly most remarkable," said the Austrian thoughtfully. "I +have seen him out here twice, and he really does very strongly resemble +the Little Gray Corporal. He is short, pale and clean-shaven, with +thin dark hair, which he wears brushed over his forehead, a determined +mouth, and dark, gray-blue eyes, expressive of a despotic will and a +love of power. One is almost tempted to think...." + +Wallion interrupted him: + +"Don't let us worry ourselves over it, it doesn't really affect the +case: we can allow that Ortiz has a genuine talent for play-acting, +can't we? The important thing is to anticipate his wild schemes before +it is too late. Everything depends upon who has the Tarraschin document +in his possession by the end of to-day: and to get hold of it, we have +only to find Bernard Jenin." + +"Which is not going to be so easy as you seem to think!" said the +Austrian, rather abruptly. "My dear Mr. Wallion, don't underrate the +baron and Rastakov: they are admirable sleuth-hounds, though they have +had no luck so far." + +"And, therefore," retorted the journalist, "it must be a point of honor +with us to beat them at their own game! Don't you yourself insist that +Jenin must still be in the Copper House, living or dead? Why, my good +sir, the Copper House isn't like London: a man hidden in it can't +remain hidden indefinitely, after all! The sooner we can get speech +with him, the sooner we shall be able to control the entire situation. +I suggest...." + +He paused, frowning a little, then smiled and continued: + +"Of course, we must proceed with a certain amount of diplomacy, and +whatever happens, we must start with Lona Ivanovna as our ally; I'll +see to all that." + +"Have you a plan?" + +"I have three! But before anything else, you must, on my behalf, get +into communication with Robert Lang. You need only say a few words to +him, he will know what he has to do. Do you think you can manage it?" + +The Austrian nodded. + +"Yes, I can telephone at any time from the lodge; in case of need, I +have these to back me up," and he pointed with grim satisfaction to his +hip-pockets, in each of which reposed a burnished steel "Browning," of +the most powerful pattern. + +"I can make things pretty hot for them, if the worst comes to the +worst," he added; "this is my last resource, and when I use it, it will +mean that my own life is at stake. None of us will come out of this +alive, if they discover us too soon, but I think we still have a good +chance. What am I to tell your friend Lang?" + +Wallion considered: + +"Tell him that there is no need to get anxious about the baron and +Rastakov until they get back here, which they should be allowed to +do unmolested, though under surveillance. Also say to him that +'to-night's the night'.... Hallo, what's that?" + +He leaned forward and looked out of the window. + +"What is that young scatterbrain up to now?" + +Leo had come out of the house, accompanied by Sonia Bernin. The young +man seemed to have some special object in view, for, as the journalist +watched him, he ran quickly across the terrace, followed by the girl. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + _Lona Ivanovna asks a second question and gets an unexpected reply_ + + +As soon as Leo had read Wallion's message, a feeling of great relief +came over him. For the first time he dared to confess to himself that +he had been on the point of giving up hope altogether. The realization +of Baron Fayerling's true character had brought home to him his own +utter helplessness. No one knew better than he that the isolated +position of the Copper House gave, for the time being, a tremendous +advantage to this dangerous gang; the baron's high-handed proceedings +had also made him fear that the journalist--his only friend at this +crisis--had already been secretly done away with. But the little +slip of paper, so unexpectedly flung through his window, came like a +sunbeam into a darkened room: Wallion was evidently still free, and +at work. How, under present conditions, he had managed to evade the +enemy, was more than Leo could imagine, but the mere knowledge of the +fact exhilarated him like a glass of champagne; he drew a deep breath, +and his mind, which had seemed frozen, began to work once more. The +situation was, after all, full of possibilities as long as Wallion +was anywhere in the neighborhood. The wish to do something himself +returned to Leo with double force, and one idea after another chased +through his active brain; he had a dangerous craving to lend a hand, +to surprise his friend by some clever move, some stroke of genius that +might even settle the whole affair for good. + +He thrust the note into his waistcoat pocket, left his room, and ran +whistling downstairs. + +In the hall he found Lona Ivanovna, very quiet, and with a look of +painfully-concentrated thought on her thin face. He noticed at once +that the guard by the door had disappeared, and that quite a new kind +of silence reigned over the house; a silence that kept one's ears and +nerves perpetually on the stretch. The rooms, whose doors stood open +on every side of the hall, gave one the impression of having only just +been vacated, and that at any minute something might happen in them. + +A flash of lightning flickered from the heavy bank of clouds outside, +like the expiring ray of a searchlight, and was followed by a low growl +of very distant thunder. + +Lona Ivanovna turned, as she heard the young man's step on the stairs. + +"They have gone," said she, "and they have not found him yet." + +Leo glowed with satisfaction: for the first time the pugnacious old +lady addressed him in the friendly tone hitherto reserved for her +brother and Sonia. He was quite pleased to hear that Bernard Jenin had +not been found, but that was not the most important thing from his +point of view. + +"Has the baron gone away?" he asked, eagerly. + +"Yes, he went just now, with that miserable creature Tassler. But +it's too soon to rejoice, my boy, Rastakov is left behind, and we are +prisoners," she added in a dry sarcastic tone, as if she found this +fact rather amusing. + +"Prisoners!" echoed Leo; "how can that be? You must be joking. There is +no prison here." + +"Dear me, how shall I make you understand!" she muttered, scratching +her forehead with her crochet-hook; "have you ever been in the fortress +of St. Peter and St. Paul?" + +"No, never!" cried Leo, considerably taken aback. + +"So I should think. But _I_ have! It was in the days when I used to +throw bombs," she said confidentially; "well, it would have been easier +to escape from Peter and Paul than to get out of the Copper House now. +Of course, I was young then...." + +Leo stared at her, opened his mouth and--remained silent. He went over +to the glass door, threw it open, and hurried out on to the terrace. + +"Where are you off to?" demanded Rastakov, appearing in front of him, +with his right hand in his pocket. + +"Whatever business is it of yours!" retorted Leo furiously. "How dare +you speak to me like that! I go where I choose." + +Rastakov sneered provokingly. + +"Yes, after eleven or twelve o'clock to-night, maybe; but until then +you have got to keep quiet, or you may find yourself taken elsewhere +first thing in the morning. Go indoors, and get your friends to amuse +you; we have a small job on out here, and don't want to be interfered +with: so that's all there is to it." + +Leo took a couple of steps towards him, but the man quietly drew a huge +revolver from his pocket; his face was grim and watchful. + +"I mean it!" he said; "go indoors." + +Leo looked all round him; he could not repress a shudder as he counted +nine or ten armed men posted in front of the house, and he guessed that +it would be equally well guarded on the remaining sides; Lona Ivanovna +was right: they were prisoners. + +"You must be mad!" he exclaimed; "we are not in Russia. I have only to +report this to the police, and you would all be arrested." + +"Do so, by all means," replied the other scornfully; "perhaps you would +like me to send the message for you!" + +"I shall--I shall...." + +Leo checked himself, and turned back into the house. He was angry with +himself, with Rastakov, with the whole world; he was aware that he +played a sorry figure, and the knowledge did not improve his temper. +However, the recollection of Wallion's message was some consolation, +and by the time he saw Lona Ivanovna again in the hall, he was able to +speak to her almost cheerfully: + +"I must borrow one of those bombs of yours: I have had a dispute with +Rastakov, and couldn't find any argument strong enough to convince him." + +She stopped working, laid her bony hand on his arm, and said, with a +weary little laugh: + +"My boy, it is many years since I imagined that I could set the world +to rights with a handful of dynamite in a sardine tin: gunpowder, or +words, it all comes to the same in the long run." + +They entered the drawing-room as she was speaking, and the blind man's +feeble voice chimed in: + +"Yes, you are right, it doesn't matter: it all ends in noise. Though a +bomb is more straightforward, it seems to me," he added thoughtfully, +and as if to himself. + +This appeared to be a topic they had often discussed before, and Lona +Ivanovna immediately joined issue with her brother. + +"Not a single bomb that was ever thrown has improved the world in any +way. It was the folly of youth that blinded us to the truth, when we +were striving so desperately to bring about Russia's freedom. Russia +_is_ free now, but it is not our bombs that have brought it about." + +"Possibly," answered Andrei Bernin, his voice sounding somewhat +stronger; "but it is not finished yet. Who knows whether in this very +house...." + +His sister made a sudden movement, and he was silent. + +After a pause he asked: + +"Is the young man here?" + +"Yes, he is here. Rastakov has just told him that he cannot leave the +house.... Would you like to speak to him?" + +"I should like to do so," said Andrei Bernin; "let me give you a piece +of advice, Mr. Grath: leave this place as soon as you can." + +"How can I do that? You heard...." + +"Yes, yes, but give them your word that you will say nothing, and they +will let you go. It will be better for you." + +"He is right," said Lona Ivanovna, softly; "I will tell you the truth: +we who are obliged to stop here are expecting nothing less than a +catastrophe. I know you want to help us, but what can you do by +yourself? You can leave us with a clear conscience." + +"But you? What will you do?" + +"We? Oh, it will soon be over, we must just have patience." + +Before Leo could reply, Sonia sprang up, her eyes wide open, her hands +clutching at her throat. + +"Patience! I hate that word," she exclaimed. "I will not be patient, I +want to see those wretches beaten, who are using Russia's misery as a +stepping-stone for their own fortunes. It is cowardly to be patient, +and I won't...." + +Her voice broke, and she turned and went quickly out of the room. Her +passionate words left the others silent; they scarcely ventured to look +at one another, but at last Leo said: + +"She is right. What you said was kindly meant and I am grateful, but +let me tell you in my turn that I have no intention of leaving here. I +am not a pessimist, and I am intensely anxious to see what will happen, +especially as the matter concerns my own house." + +He waited an instant for their reply, but none was forthcoming. Andrei +Bernin sank back among his cushions, and his sister remained standing +by the window. Leo bowed, and went out to see what had become of +Sonia; she had not gone further than the stairs, where he found her +leaning against the banister. She turned her face to him with a dazed +expression, and, in her black dress, she looked so small and frail, +that the young man seized her little sunburnt hands impulsively, and +said: + +"Try to be patient a little longer, won't you? Perhaps help is nearer +than you think." + +"It will have to come pretty quickly, then," she answered in a low +voice; "all the same, I am not afraid." + +Leo did not know what to say next. A vague masculine sympathy prompted +him to try and console her, but he knew instinctively that she would +take it amiss. She drew her hands away, and said gravely: + +"There is no need for you to trouble yourself about us; we have been +uninvited guests in your house, but it won't last much longer; in a +short time we shall have gone for good." + +"Yes, but look here!" he cried out impetuously; "that is just what I +don't want, I ask nothing better than to know more of you, to be one of +your best friends; you persist in keeping me at a distance!" + +"You mustn't say that!" whispered Sonia, blushing deeply: "You +understand something of what we are suffering: a man's life is at +stake, and we are bound to keep silence for his sake...." + +"Do you mean Sergius?" + +"Yes," she answered softly. "He is hidden here, in spite of all their +searching; he is my cousin." + +This piece of news struck the young man like a flash of lightning. + +"Your cousin! Bernard Jenin your cousin! That explains it. Then he must +be...." + +"Lona Ivanovna's son." Sonia completed the sentence. Leo's hands +trembled with excitement. He felt that Wallion ought to know this at +once, and he looked round the hall, almost as though he expected the +journalist to be somewhere in it. + +"Come!" he exclaimed, "come! You ought to have told me that before. We +must go straight to him." + +"To whom?" + +"Maurice Wallion." + +The girl gave a little cry. + +"Is he here?" + +"I don't know. But we must find out where he is." + +Leo had no plan, no idea of what he was going to do. It did not occur +to him that by acting too precipitately he might spoil everything, he +was only conscious of a frantic desire to do something before it was +too late, and he rushed off, dragging the girl after him. + +They ran like two children through the silent house, and Leo began to +call Wallion loudly by name. + +"No, no," the girl hushed him; "don't call, they may hear us." + +"We must find him! If Bernard Jenin can hide himself, Wallion can do +the same." + +"No," said she, "your friend couldn't hide himself here, in the way +that Sergius has done." + +Leo felt that she was speaking the truth. She knew, then, where Jenin +was hidden. + +"Then it's impossible," he faltered dejectedly; "Wallion can't be here +after all." + +"No, he certainly isn't inside the Copper House." + +Leo began to wonder whether the journalist had abandoned them to +their fate, and his eyes grew dim, but he shook off the feeling of +hopelessness which was stealing over him, and said quickly: + +"He must be somewhere close by." + +A few minutes later, they went boldly out by the kitchen door, and took +the path to the garden, their intention being to walk right round the +house, in defiance of their jailers. + +Rastakov was fortunately not to be seen, but four or five of the +sentries shouted to them from a distance. + +The girl, who was the more level-headed of the two, picked a rose, and +arranged it deliberately in the lapel of her coat. + +"Look as unconcerned as you can," she whispered. "They oughtn't to mind +our taking a breath of fresh air: when they calm down, we will continue +our round...." + +But at this moment an unforeseen obstacle blocked their way. Rosenthal +came striding towards them from the gardener's cottage, and as soon as +he was within speaking distance, he called out in a threatening voice: + +"Hallo, my young cockerel, what are you doing out here?" + +Leo grew white with rage, and replied furiously: + +"Mind what you're saying!" + +Rosenthal closed with him, and gave him a formidable blow with his +fist, on the point of the chin. Leo staggered back, but noticed with +surprise that the blow was not so severe in reality as in appearance. +And, next minute, he could hardly believe his own ears, when Rosenthal +said, almost inaudibly: + +"Hit me back, make the hell of a row, it's for your own advantage!" + +The man's eyes were on a level with his, and he was aware of an +extraordinarily humorous look in them. But, the next instant, the +gardener was bellowing at the top of his voice: + +"I'll teach you! Ha! You'd hit me back, would you! Come on then!" + +He aimed another blow at Leo, who parried it mechanically, and in +another moment they were at it, hammer and tongs, making a fearful din, +though not before Rosenthal had whispered again: + +"Hit me, shout, and make as much noise as you can! You will soon know +the reason." + +A whole crowd of Rastakov's men collected round them, laughing loudly, +and Rastakov himself came hurrying up, looking exceedingly put out. +Leo and Rosenthal were pounding one another to the accompaniment of an +uninterrupted flow of strong language from the latter. + +"What's all this?" Rastakov's voice broke in sharply: "Back to your +posts, every one of you! Give it him well, Rosenthal: but you had +better leave enough life in the puppy for him to be able to crawl +indoors again." + +The combatants were separated, and Leo, still giddy with astonishment, +stood staring about him for a minute, then turned and reëntered the +house without a word. + +Sonia joined him with a radiant face. + +"That _was_ clever of you!" she said with boyish enthusiasm: "I wish +you had killed him!" + +"Killed him!" stammered the bewildered young man; "Rosenthal--didn't +you hear--he said...." + +But he found himself quite unable to explain what had happened: he had +a general impression of having had a fight with a good-natured giant, +who had been pommeling him out of sheer good will. He hurried in to +the brother and sister Bernin, and sat down near them, panting. Lona +Ivanovna, who was still standing by the window, turned to him and said +dryly: + +"May I ask the meaning of that comedy, Mr. Grath? I was watching all +the time, and neither of you struck a single blow in earnest." + +Leo saw with mortification a change in the expression of Sonia's face. + +"Weren't you really fighting?" she asked in a disappointed voice. He +made a poor attempt at a smile. + +"Either Rosenthal or I must be mad," he said frankly: "the man told me +to make as much noise as I could." + +"Oh-h," said the old lady, slowly: "is _that_ it!" Her bright, +bird-like eyes shone, and she added softly: + +"That being the case, I wonder if your friend Mr. Wallion would be so +kind as to come in now...." + +"Thanks, with the greatest pleasure," replied the journalist, coming in +from the hall. "Your powers of observation do you credit, Madame." + +His entrance seemed as though worked by magic: had he fallen from the +sky? Even the blind man half rose from his chair. + +"At last!" said Leo, from the bottom of his heart, as he made for the +journalist and grasped his hand. Wallion looked at him with a smile: + +"I hope you haven't quite crippled Rosenthal?" he inquired. "You two +knocked one another about splendidly; everybody crowded up to stare at +you; and I had only to walk straight in here. I hope soon to be able +to present Rosenthal to you, as a useful and trustworthy friend." + +"Do you mean to say," said Leo, amazed, "that Rosenthal faked the whole +affair in order that you might get into the Copper House unobserved?" + +"Yes, we planned it between us on the spur of the moment. What else +was there for us to do? What did you think _you_ were going to do, +single-handed?" + +"Why, of course, we meant to go and find you." + +"Me?" said Wallion, gravely. "Couldn't you have waited till I was +ready? Yes, I know, you had made a discovery, which we will talk about +in a minute." + +Leo introduced him to the two ladies; Sonia drew back a little after +the first greetings, as though to take stock unobtrusively of the +tall journalist, whose decided manner and piercing glance evidently +impressed her. Lona Ivanovna shook hands heartily with him, and they +seemed to understand one another at once: from that time on, they were +on terms of the warmest esteem. + +"I hope you will forgive me for keeping in the background until now," +said Wallion; "there are plenty of sharp eyes round the Copper House, +and I don't want Rastakov to take alarm too soon. But there need be no +secrets between us henceforward." + +He bent down over Andrei Bernin's chair, and took the invalid's hand in +his like a doctor. + +"Mr. Andrei Bernin," he continued, "your name has interested me +immensely since this morning; you need not be afraid of me: don't turn +away from me, for I am a friend." + +The journalist's keen eyes were very close now to the blue spectacles: + +"It is strange that no one but myself has noticed it!" + +"What are you talking about?" murmured the blind man, uneasily. + +"Of the fact that out of the letters forming the name Andrei Bernin, +one can just as easily make the name of Bernard Jenin." + +He patted the invalid's hand, and stood up. + +"You need not disguise yourself from me, Mr. Bernard Jenin," he added +in a low tone; "or may I say Sergius?" + +The man in the armchair swept off the blue spectacles, and looked up +into Wallion's face: + +"Say Sergius!" he replied as quietly. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + _The story of the Bernin family_ + + +The strange scene passed so rapidly, that the fact it conveyed had been +accepted by the three spectators before any of them thought of making a +move. + +"Why, the blind man can see!" was Leo's first thought; and before his +still incredulous eyes, the man in the armchair proceeded to divest +himself of his venerable white beard and his poetical white locks, +revealing a face twenty years younger, in which Leo recognized with +something of a shock, the fugitive of the railway carriage and the +avenue, the melancholy young man whose lined face was worn with recent +illness. The blind Bernin was merely a fiction: under that disguise the +hunted Bernard Jenin had been hidden the whole time. The truth dawned +upon Leo as though a blind had been suddenly pulled up. + +"Don't take off your wig," said Wallion, "and you had better put on the +blue spectacles again. Your disguise is perfectly wonderful: I can't +understand how you came to have it at hand yesterday evening?" + +Lona Ivanovna took up the tale. + +"We had better be quite open with our sharp-sighted guest, Sergius. +How long has it taken you to see through our poor little stratagem, Mr. +Wallion?" + +"I suspected something of the kind before I got here," explained +Wallion, "otherwise the disappearance of the fugitive would have been +nothing short of miraculous. And then the name helped me: how could you +be so daring as to call yourself Bernard Jenin, which is neither more +nor less than an anagram on Andrei Bernin?" + +"That was in case I came to grief," answered the fugitive; "if my +mother saw that name in the papers, she would know that it referred to +me. Years ago, sitting round the table after the lamp was lighted, we +used to amuse ourselves making anagrams on our names. For instance, +Sonia Bernin became Nina Biornsen; I chose my uncle's name, because he +is dead." + +"Dead! Is Andrei Bernin dead?" + +"Yes, he died at Moscow on the fourteenth of November, 1916." + +Maurice Wallion looked inquiringly at Lona Ivanovna, and she replied to +his unspoken question. + +"My brother left the Copper House in January, 1916, for a reason which +I will tell you by and by. For the same reason, Sonia and I allowed our +friends to believe that he was still here, but too ill to see anyone. +No one suspected the truth; I made for myself the disguise which +Sergius is wearing now, and on two occasions I purposely allowed Baron +Fayerling's spies to get a glimpse of the sick man, who was believed +to be, but really was not, here." + +It did not occur to Wallion to smile at the grotesque idea of the old +lady in a false beard and man's clothes: on the contrary, he found +something touching and pathetic in what she had done; he understood +that she had been driven to it by the direst necessity. + +"It was a hard blow for us when my brother died," she continued. "He +died secretly in the country which had rejected him. My son has carried +on his work, and now it is finished: but it has nearly cost him his +life...." + +She spoke slowly and composedly, and with a calm dignity which made +Wallion feel that he was standing on holy ground; he fixed his gray +eyes on her with a look of warm admiration. + +"Then," he asked, "is your son--here?" + +"Sergius is my son," she replied. + +Wallion nodded; the discovery did not surprise him, since it had +been one of his theories in the course of his attempts to arrive at +the truth during the last few hours. He understood too, from Leo's +expression, that this was the information which the young man had been +so anxious to convey to him. But he was silent, for he could see that +Lona Ivanovna had more to say. Presently she began again: + +"I know you are our friend, Mr. Wallion; we can never forget how you +saved Sergius yesterday, and to-day we have waited and hoped for you +hour after hour. You must think it very strange that we should be in +the Copper House, apparently at the beck and call of such creatures as +Baron Fayerling and his companions; but you may find the explanation +even more surprising. If you really are willing to help us, I will be +perfectly frank with you, and tell you the whole story." + +She spoke with a perceptible effort to keep to the point and to repress +any display of emotion, which she would have considered a sign of +weakness, but in spite of the quiet words, it was apparent that she was +deeply moved. Sergius leaned forward and stroked her hand, and Wallion +got up, shut the door into the hall, and said: + +"Miss Sonia, as you are nearest, will you kindly look out, and tell me +if you see anyone outside the window; I think it wisest not to show my +face yet." + +The girl complied; there was nobody outside: everything was quiet. Even +the great barrier of dark thunder-clouds seemed motionless. Wallion +looked round him once more with those keen eyes of his that nothing +escaped; he missed something, and it struck him that the Austrian's +calm, intelligent face would just have made their circle complete. But +for the present, that was impossible. + +Lona Ivanovna had seated herself beside her son, and waited for the +journalist to follow her example. He understood her look, and readily +obeyed it, saying with a smile: + +"I am sure that between us we shall find a way out of all our +difficulties: at any rate, I promise to do my best. I shall be +delighted to hear your story, to begin with." + +Lona Ivanovna took up her work-basket, which had been hanging neglected +on her arm, remarking: + +"I can think better when I am working," and as her crochet-needle +flashed in and out of the stitches, she began her tale. + +"Our father was a magistrate at Saratov. It was his wish that my +brother should obtain a commission in the army, but as both our +parents died early, we were left, whilst still quite young, to fend +for ourselves. We had a little money, but not much, because my father, +who had been sufficiently original not to make a fortune by means of +bribery and corruption, had left nothing but debts behind him. + +"We became students at Moscow, and you would scarcely believe how +cleverly we and our companions managed to live upon nothing! It was +a long time ago, in the days of Russia's slavery, and we youngsters +hated the oppressors. You know what a struggle we made; and in the free +countries around us the comfortable middle-classes sat still and called +us anarchists! We were revolutionaries, and I, Lona Ivanovna, have +risked my own life in active propaganda-work. My brother was weaker, +and he served the cause with his pen, whilst I did so with words and +deeds. We formed a little group of devoted enthusiasts, and there was +one man who constituted himself a leader among us, constantly urging +us on to fresh exertions. He became my husband, and Sergius is our son. +The name of that man was Marcus Tassler." + +"Marcus Tassler!" exclaimed Leo involuntarily, and with intense +astonishment. Lona Ivanovna looked at him steadily, and he dropped his +eyes and added confusedly: + +"Forgive my interruption, but somehow that man's name surprised me more +than anything else." + +Wallion moved impatiently. + +"Please go on," he murmured. + +"Yes, I married Marcus Tassler," she went on calmly. "He was at that +time a Russian subject, and we were just of an age. Perhaps he was not +so worthless then: I don't know; we change with time. Several years +passed; not all 'red,' but very often 'black' ones. I was imprisoned +for the cause of liberty in Peter-Paul fortress. Then came 1905, that +year of bloodshed and of barricades, with days of ardent enthusiasm, +and of bitter disappointment; when the soldiers mutinied at Sevastopol, +Poland was declared to be in a state of siege, and barricades were +set up in the streets of Moscow. Can you imagine the horrors we went +through? Spies and traitors were to be found, even amongst us.... +One night our house was surrounded by Cossacks. My brother was +there, Marcus Tassler, myself, and Sergius, who was then a boy of +fourteen...." + +"Fourteen!" echoed her son, "and I remember it all vividly: the wild +faces, the whips cracking, the shooting--I remember it all." + +"We were driven to prison like animals to the slaughter," she +continued, "and we expected nothing else but death, for we were guilty +of taking part in the December risings in Moscow. Then the examinations +began: we were called in one by one. A fortnight later, a miracle +happened! We were set at liberty, with no verdict, no conditions, +no supervision. We returned to our comrades, and a terrible and +inconceivable experience awaited us: they cast us out, accusing us of +having purchased our freedom by treachery. We denied it indignantly. +They reckoned up the names of all who had been shot, all who had +been sent to Siberia--we were the only ones who had been set free. +It was useless to protest, to ask for explanations, we were caught +in a net, and they shrank from us as though we were pariahs.... We +were even subjected to attacks from bombs, and it was due to one of +these that Andrei lost his sight. That ended it. We were obliged to +leave Russia, to escape from the vengeance of our former comrades. +For private reasons, into which I need not enter now, I obtained a +legal separation from Marcus Tassler;--perhaps I unconsciously saw +through him already--Sergius remained with me, and as exiles we sought +sanctuary in Sweden. I haven't mentioned my brother's marriage; during +a visit to Sweden in 1898, he had met and married Helena Flycht, a +young half-Finnish, half-Swedish girl, who followed him to Russia. +She died when Sonia was born, and the child was brought up by her +mother's parents in Finland. Well, when Andrei, Sergius and I settled +in Sweden, my brother sent for Sonia, and we were quite a little family +party again. But the circle was soon broken. As Sergius grew up, the +'liberty-fever' developed in him, and he returned to Russia under an +assumed name to take part in the work; for several years we heard no +more of him." + +"For a very good reason," interposed Sergius: "I was in prison the +greater part of the time!" + +"Then the World War began," Lona Ivanovna went on: "my brother made one +attempt to offer his services to the revolutionaries. They answered us: +'Unless you can prove that you did not betray us in 1905, we will have +nothing to do with you: we have forgotten nothing!' Prove it! How could +we hope to do so now, if we had not succeeded at the time? We felt that +we were excommunicated forever. Then Tassler reappeared. I had not +heard a word of him for nine years, but now, in the spring of 1915, he +came back. He undertook to prove our innocence of the accusation of +treachery, upon one condition, that we in our turn, should help him. +Bit by bit, he told us of a man called Gabriel Ortiz, who was planning +a gigantic attempt to organize the Russian efforts for freedom. It +sounded genuine, we should, at all events, be once more working for +the cause of liberty, and that decided us. In the summer of 1915, we +settled down here at the Copper House ... Andrei, Sonia and I." + +"Did Marcus Tassler really initiate you into Ortiz' plan?" asked +Wallion, thoughtfully. + +"Yes, into part of it, at any rate: that is to say, Baron Fayerling +did. Part of the business was carried on here: smuggling arms, +dispatching propagandist literature, and so forth. But we soon noticed +that our part in it was a very small one; we were simply used as +decoys, and all they wanted was Andrei's name on the contract and on +their papers. Just at first we were satisfied, but we soon began to +feel suspicious: it was too late for us to withdraw, and we found that +we were practically prisoners here. We had no means of discovering what +was really going on, but we had no intention of allowing ourselves to +be involved in some fresh deed of treachery. It was then that we began +to realize that Marcus Tassler was a dangerous character. We decided +to obtain our own proofs, and we planned everything with the greatest +precaution. In the spring of 1916, Andrei left the Copper House +secretly, and traveled to Russia with a passport which I had managed to +procure, and together with two revolutionaries who had still continued +our friends. Meantime, Sonia and I gave out that my brother was lying +ill in the Copper House, and no one suspected that he was far away! +Besides, the baron and Tassler left us more and more to ourselves; it +was enough for their purposes to have us here as figureheads. You can +understand how anxious I was, when you think that Andrei was blind, +and what a journey he had undertaken, and for what an object. I had a +presentiment--but perhaps you don't believe in presentiments?" + +"Yes," answered Wallion, "I certainly believe in them; a presentiment +is often a subconscious conclusion, and may have a definite value." + +"In January of this year, I received indirect information that my +brother was dead. He had died quite suddenly of heart disease, unknown +and alone in an infirmary at Moscow. Those were sad days for Sonia and +me." + +She stopped, for her voice was quivering suspiciously, and sat gazing +before her, with her grimmest and most unapproachable expression; but +Sonia understood, and nestled up more closely to her. + +"The night is darkest before the dawn," began the old lady again. +"Sergius sent us a letter, bidding us be of good courage; he had +arrived too late to see his uncle alive, but had taken possession +of his papers, and seen to the funeral. He wrote that he had made +important discoveries...." + +"Let me go on from there," said Sergius, turning towards the +journalist. "I was staying in Moscow under the name of Dr. Zero. +The March Revolution had changed everything, and my revolutionary +friends were triumphant. I suspected that their rejoicings were rather +premature, for I saw beneath the surface very definite symptoms of +reactionary currents; I found proofs of the existence of a conspiracy, +and Prince Tarraschin's death set me wondering.... Finally, after a +series of researches, I heard of Tarraschin's memorandum, its contents, +and the struggle that was being secretly carried on for its possession; +in the long run, I also discovered its whereabouts: then I acted." He +thought for a little while. + +"You must remember that my motive all along has been the vindication of +my own and my family's honor, also that I knew nothing of Ortiz, or of +what was going on here; and lastly, that I dared not approach the new +Russian government under my own name, as Kerensky had been one of those +who had driven out Andrei and his belongings, branded as traitors. All +this you must bear in mind. + +"Well, I took Tarraschin's memorandum, not from its rightful owners, +but from thieves. Of course, I know now, that it was from one of +Ortiz's spies that I took it. But what was I to do with it? I had found +my relatives' new address amongst my uncle's papers, and I determined +to travel home and ask my mother's advice. On the way back, I fell in +with B.22 and was very nearly caught in a trap...." + +"I suppose your plan was to come here, and by the aid of the document, +open negotiaions with Kerensky?" asked Wallion. + +"Yes, it was the only way I could think of to regain the esteem of the +revolutionaries." + +"Doesn't it look a little bit like--bribery?" + +Sergius Tassler was silent, and the journalist changed his tactics. + +"Ah, well, of course you were justified in taking such a step. We know +what happened afterwards, so...." + +"Let me say one thing," said Sergius. "It is not fair to call it a +bribe. I am prepared to surrender the paper unconditionally, but, by +giving it up at the right moment, I want to add weight to the proofs +I obtained in Moscow; I allude to the proofs of our innocence of the +accusation brought against us in 1905." + +"Really! You found them, then?" + +"Yes, after the Revolution the police-archives became at last +accessible, and there I found the name of the traitor; then everything +became clear to me: my own father had played the part of Judas!" + +"Marcus Tassler?" + +"Yes, he was an infamous spy, and only allowed himself to be arrested +for the sake of appearances, to escape any reprisals. He was, I +suppose, driven by his uneasy conscience to bring about our liberation. +But through him, hundreds of brave young students had gone to their +death, or to Siberia; and that was my father ... mine...." + +Lona Ivanovna checked him.... + +"That's enough, my boy, don't let us talk of the man any more. You can +understand now, Mr. Wallion, how, after Sergius' return yesterday, +Tassler's double-dealing became perfectly clear to me. In 1905 he had +made us accomplices in an act of treachery: what was his intention +now? Why were we in the Copper House? It was evidently not enough +for him that he had us outlawed twelve years ago; once again he must +drag us down to destruction! Ever since the March Revolution, this +year, I guessed that something was wrong, for Ortiz' activities did +not diminish, although Russia was now freed. It was, therefore, not +revolution, but something else that he was working for. The history of +Tarraschin's memorandum revealed the truth in a flash. From the moment +that Sergius told me about it, I became the enemy of Ortiz, and above +all, of Tassler who had dared to lie to me." + +"Tell me," said the journalist, "what exactly happened yesterday when +your son arrived?" + +"It all passed like a hurried dream. Suddenly, without any warning, he +was here, with Rastakov at his heels. I had barely a second to decide +what to do, and I did it. I sent him up with Sonia to Andrei's room, to +disguise himself as my brother, whom Rastakov was quite prepared to see +in the course of his investigations; I remained in the hall, and when I +heard Rastakov coming, I fired a shot, to mystify him, and gain time: a +shot always entails explanation and discussion, doesn't it?" + +"So that's the true story of Bernard Jenin's disappearance?" said +Wallion, amused. + +"Yes, Bernard Jenin will never be found now!" + +Wallion got up, walked up and down for a minute, and stopped before +Sergius, sitting quiet and aloof, in his apparent blindness. + +"And what about Tarraschin's memorandum?" he asked. + +"It is hidden in a place where Rastakov would never dream of looking +for it," answered Sergius; "in fact, it is actually in my hand at the +present moment: look here, I will show it you." + +All eyes were turned, as by common consent, on Sergius' right hand, in +which he was holding his stick. With a quick wrench, he unscrewed the +ivory handle, and they saw that the stick was hollow; without looking +into it, he handed it to the journalist. + +"Will you be so kind?" said he; "the most important document in Europe +will be found inside, rolled up like a cigarette! Don't stand on +ceremony, please." + +The journalist stretched out his hand, then drew it suddenly back; a +curious expression came into his eyes, and he thrust his hands into his +pockets. + +"You are joking, surely, sir!" + +"I? Certainly not. What do you mean?" + +"There is nothing in the stick!" + +Sergius Tassler grew pale, and stared, as though petrified, into the +hollow tube. Lona Ivanovna bent forward, and as the stick fell with a +thud on the floor, she said: + +"Are you perfectly sure you put the paper in there yesterday?" + +"Yes," he replied with a stupefied air; "I can't understand.... Sonia +saw it...." + +The young girl sprang forward like a little fury: + +"I saw you put the paper in the stick! Nobody else saw it, nobody knows +about it. Where is the document?" Her tone was almost an accusation, +but Sergius made no reply. His mother continued her work with +undisturbed equanimity, only remarking: + +"You see, Mr. Wallion, that Tarraschin's memorandum is still capable of +providing us with a sensation." + +"So it seems. I am sorry, for I should have liked to have your only +weapon in my hands." + +"Our only weapon!" she echoed. + +"Yes, without it, one doesn't know what may happen." + +"Could Rastakov have taken it?" suggested Leo. + +"Impossible," returned Sergius. "He hasn't even set eyes upon +the stick, and the baron said openly that their search had been +unsuccessful; it is a complete mystery to me...." + +"Did you keep watch last night?" asked Wallion. + +"Yes, all night, in turns." + +"And you noticed nothing unusual?" + +"Nothing whatsoever." + +"Had you disturbed the contents of the stick since yesterday?" + +"No, and I have never let it out of my sight." + +The journalist examined it cursorily, screwed on the handle, and +restored it to its owner. + +"Well, there you are!" said he. "You may console yourself with the +reflection that Ortiz would certainly never have suspected the +existence of such a highly-original hiding-place." + +"Console myself? Do you attach so little importance to the +disappearance of the paper?" exclaimed the mortified and astonished +Sergius. + +"No, not that, but I have an idea that it has not gone beyond recall. +The person who took it...." + +"But who can it be? Who?" + +"That remains to be seen. May I be allowed to examine Andrei Bernin's +bedroom with you?" + +"Most willingly." + +Sergius and Lona Ivanovna followed him upstairs, but they all three +returned very soon. Leo and Sonia, who were left sitting silent and +downcast, saw an expression in the journalist's face which they could +not quite fathom; it seemed almost as though he was quietly pleased +about something which nobody else had observed. + +"Have you found out anything?" Leo asked, in a low tone. + +"No," replied Wallion, abstractedly; "nothing that I didn't already +know." + +After a minute he left the room. + + * * * * * + +An oppressive silence lay heavy and stifling over the Copper House. +Premature darkness had set in; the massive thunder clouds seemed to +settle slowly down upon the woods and the lonely house, till they shut +out the last rays of fading daylight. + +Leo found the journalist at a window on the second floor, gazing out to +sea. His whole bearing was tense with expectation, and his gray eyes +dark and fixed. Leo wondered what he saw there, and placed himself +silently beside him. From this place they had an uninterrupted view of +the little bay, which lay gleaming inside its sheltering island. + +Two men were busy with something spread out on the deck of the lighter; +it appeared to be part of some apparatus; Wallion watched them intently. + +"What is it?" whispered Leo. + +His friend did not reply. + +Suddenly a cone of bluish light darted up into the dusk as a result of +the exertions of the two distant figures, and continued to burn with +a steady and far-reaching beam. The ray of light shifted hither and +thither, till it remained stationary between the islands and the right +shore of the bay, pointing towards the open sea. + +"The light!" murmured Wallion. "Ortiz is at hand!" + + + + + _Part III--Gabriel Ortiz_ + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + _The storm bursts_ + + +A gust of wind went soughing through the trees, which bowed their +crests before it in long, rippling lines. On the dark horizon, +lightning flashed in and out of the dense bank of clouds, and the +windows rattled as the peals of thunder sounded nearer and more +frequent. + +Then, from some way off, a short, sharp cry was heard through the +rising storm. Men's steps came crashing through the bushes, and +suddenly two shots rang out. Inside the Copper House, all sprang +to their feet, and looked apprehensively at one another, with the +conviction that the critical moment had arrived. + +Wallion ran noiselessly downstairs, with Leo after him, and saw Lona +Ivanovna crossing the hall, a revolver in her hand. Sonia had rushed to +the glass door, and was gazing out into the twilight: Sergius Tassler +stood in the entrance to the dining-room, with one hand in his pocket. + +"Someone is climbing over the balustrade of the terrace," said the girl +suddenly, "and he has a revolver!" + +"Who is it?" inquired Lona Ivanovna. + +"I can't see yet--it's a man. Now he's turning round again." + +Another revolver-shot cracked, and was answered by the report of a gun +further off. The revolver was fired once more, four shots in quick +succession; hasty steps sounded on the gravel, and the girl started +back from the door, as a shadow appeared just outside it, groping for +the handle. + +Wallion threw the door open, and a man ran right into his arms. It was +Rosenthal, hatless, and with his coat torn. + +"They discovered me," he panted, "shut the door, they are coming!" + +Wallion did so, and returned to him, saying: + +"What have you done?" + +The Austrian began to reload his Browning. + +"I went down to the lodge to telephone," said he. + +"Well?" + +"I got through to the _Daily Courier_, but Robert Lang was not there." + +"Then, of course, you haven't spoken to him." + +"No, I had no luck," said the Austrian stolidly; "and the worst of it +was, that while I was standing at the telephone, the baron and Marcus +Tassler returned from the station in a motor-car, and caught me. +Fayerling spotted me at once, and raised the alarm. I tried to hold my +ground, but was obliged to give in at last. Unfortunately, this puts an +end to anything I could do as Rosenthal the gardener, so from now on, I +become instead Max Raebel, the Austrian government detective, at your +service, ladies and gentlemen." + +He bowed to the assembled company. + +A step of an entirely different kind was now heard on the gravel: +light, firm, almost arrogant in its character. + +It was Baron Fayerling, who tried the handle and shook the glass door. +He was alone, and at a sign from the journalist, Lona Ivanovna went +forward and opened the door. + +"What do you want?" she demanded, looking him fearlessly in the face. + +"I am not looking for you," replied the baron hastily: "I want that +spy...." + +"Would you not rather talk to me?" suggested Wallion, pushing Max +Raebel on one side, and stepping forward. + +The two men looked at one another. The baron raised his eyebrows, but +his impassive face betrayed no other sign of surprise, though Wallion +observed with considerable satisfaction, that he hesitated a little +over his reply. + +"So you are tired of playing hide and seek?" he said at length. "I'm +afraid you must have found it very uncomfortable." + +"Not in the least, baron, but I was beginning to fear that you had +forgotten me." + +The baron looked round, as though he meditated raising an alarm, and +Wallion added quickly: + +"Won't you come in? Perhaps you have something to say to me?" + +"No, not yet. I suspected that you were here, when you were found to +have been out of Stockholm for a whole day. Our business will keep. I +presume that you have realized your mistake by this time?" + +"In coming here, you mean? On the contrary, I made a great mistake in +not coming sooner; it would have spared both you and myself a lot of +trouble." + +The baron looked narrowly at him. + +"You should not have ventured here without a strong force!" he remarked. + +"No, thanks, I prefer fair play." + +"You don't lack self-confidence; I could tell that yesterday, from your +letter, which I have kept." + +"Ah, as a keepsake, no doubt!" + +"No, to hand it over to my superior officer!" and the baron turned +away, and left the room. + +"What have you gained by that?" whispered Leo; "the fellow was white +with rage." + +"Did you notice that he absolutely ignored Max Raebel?" answered the +journalist; "I think we shall still be left in peace for a bit." + +"Not for long, though," Lona Ivanovna put in, pointing towards one of +the windows that faced seawards, from which they saw the reflection of +the blue light over the tops of the trees. + +"It's coming at last, is it?" murmured Wallion, and he went upstairs +three steps at a time, followed by Leo who guessed that he was +returning to his post of observation. When they reached the window +overlooking the shore, they saw that almost total darkness had set in. +Long shadows, and floods of bluish-white light drifted alternately +across the mirror-like surface of the bay, and only the dim outline of +the lighter could be distinguished. + +"Now you are going to see something which will surprise you," said a +voice behind Leo: it was that of the Austrian, who had followed them +upstairs. + +"Yes," Wallion chimed in, almost gaily, "if I am not mistaken, we may +look for Gabriel Ortiz at any minute now!" + +The journalist was worked up to a high pitch of excitement; he was +evidently in his element at the near prospect of a good tussle: a faint +flush mounted to his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled: he was smoking +continuously. + +Leo's eyes were fixed on the channel between the islands and the +shore, and there he saw something which made him suddenly grip the +window-ledge. In the center of the flood of light, something seemed to +be moving on the surface of the water: a spar had shot right up out +of the sea, and was approaching the lighter at an astounding rate. It +seemed to increase in height as it came nearer, and presently, out of +the foaming water there appeared a turret, and a convex shining mass, +like the back of a whale. + +"What is that?" he exclaimed; "why--but that's impossible!" The beam +of light followed the extraordinary object, which was now slackening +speed very noticeably: a hatchway was seen to open, and men's figures +began to emerge from the turret, which was still streaming wet from its +immersion. + +"It's too absurd!" cried Leo, staring harder than ever; "a submarine! I +don't understand...." + +"Why, what an unbelieving fellow you are!" growled the Austrian. "Can't +you see for yourself...." + +"Yes, but ... when you come to think of it ... a submarine!" + +"Well, it's evident that nothing less will do for Gabriel Ortiz. Of +course, that's his flagship. Surely you didn't expect him to come in a +rowing-boat!" + +Wallion smiled. + +"Did you know it?" demanded Leo quickly. + +"Yes," replied the journalist. "I guessed as much, when I saw how +the side of the lighter was damaged. The Russian submarine fleet has +practically gone the way of all flesh: half of it blown up, and the +remainder surrendered. Why shouldn't one or two of them have been +simply stolen? You can't deny that Ortiz is a man who knows how to +make the most of his opportunities. It is really a brilliant idea! He +always ran a certain amount of risk with the motor-launch 'Nelly,' but +with this one, he is never obliged to 'lie-to' and answer inconvenient +questions from the coastguards. There they go, bang against the +lighter!" + +The three spectators now heard a subdued creaking, and the flare +on board the lighter was extinguished. A sharp order was given, and +in a few minutes, a less powerful light appeared, and began to move +backwards and forwards. The respective silhouettes of the lighter and +the submarine were merged into one; a little yawl approached the ruined +pier, and several lanterns began to twinkle like glowworms. They were +arranged in a row on the beach, and by their light a party of six or +eight men could be seen, starting up the path that led to the Copper +House. At the same time, voices, amongst which they recognized the +baron's, were heard in excited conversation beneath the window: the +arrival of the submarine had been discovered. + +At the head of the little band, walked a solitary undersized figure, in +a flapping waterproof: it was obvious who this must be. + +"That's the man!" said the Austrian, in a low voice: "that's Ortiz!" + +As if the powers of the air had been waiting for this announcement, +the storm now burst upon them in earnest. An unusually dazzling glare +of violet lightning spread a network of phosphorescent light over the +whole extent of the blue-black sky, and as it faded out, a peal of +thunder crashed over the house like an avalanche, till the walls seemed +to shake, and the floors to rock. The rain fell in torrents, pouring +down in one continuous cascade; when the echo of the thunder at length +died away, the noise of the rain took its place, and the drops pattered +against the panes and the roof like machine-gun fire after the heavy +artillery has ceased. + +But nothing stopped the progress of the little band. The three men who +were watching them could see through the veil of rain the solitary +figure marching along at their head, the cape of his waterproof +fluttering like black wings about his shoulders. + +"Well," said Wallion, "our ally is rather late in arriving, but has +come at all events. Come along...." + +"Our ally?" echoed Raebel. + +"Yes, the storm. It deprives them of sight and hearing for the time +being. Let's go downstairs." + +They went down again, and joined the three Bernins, who were silently +awaiting them in the dark dining-room. + +"Now for it!" said the journalist, gathering them all round him. +"Quick's the word, and sharp the action! Sergius Tassler, whatever +happens, you must continue to play the part of Andrei Bernin as long +as it can be kept up--and you, Lona Ivanovna, must stand by him. +Above all, we must do nothing rashly: our chief aim is to gain time. +I propose to remain here and meet the first brunt of Ortiz' attack: +I think I shall be able to give him plenty to think about! But you, +gentlemen," turning to Leo and Raebel, "you must make a last attempt to +run the blockade: one or other of you will, in all probability be able +to get through. Do anything you like, steal the baron's car, or fight +your way to the station, but get word to Robert Lang of the arrival of +the submarine, and instruct him to take immediate steps to capture the +whole gang." + +"Yes, yes," answered Leo eagerly, "we ought to have thought of that +long ago!" + +"Thought! I have thought of little else!" said Wallion impatiently. +"But can't you see, that the rain and the darkness have given us our +chance?" + +"That's clear," interposed the Austrian, "so don't let's waste time in +talking." + +He went to a window, and opened it without a sound; the darkness +outside rose up like a wall in front of him. As Leo was following him, +he felt a hand on his arm: it was Sonia. + +"Let me come too!" she whispered. + +Wallion, who overheard her, was on the point of refusing, but Lona +Ivanovna said: + +"Let the child go, she can look after herself better than any boy!" + +The journalist, moved by the pleading in the girl's eyes, gave in to +the old lady, and offered no opposition, the more so, as every minute's +delay was dangerous. Sonia had changed into her black riding costume, +probably in the expectation of some such contingency, and was already +at the window; to Leo's whispered attempt to dissuade her, she only +replied with a shake of the head. + +"Be off, then, at once, all three of you," said Wallion briskly; "don't +stop, whatever happens; if one of you gets through, lose no time in +getting in touch with the nearest authorities; knock people up, +telephone to Stockholm, do everything you can...." + +He continued to whisper his instructions to them, whilst he was helping +them to get through the window. They were eager to start off, and carry +out their orders, and the storm seemed to swallow them up in a moment. +It was like being thrown into the sea. The rain lashed their faces, and +the wind tore at their clothes, but the three adventurers summoned up +all their courage, bent their heads, and began to cross the terrace. + +Darkness had obliterated the big house behind them, they could not hear +their own footsteps, and groped their way onwards, afraid of losing one +another. Sheets of rain enveloped them: it was impossible to see or +hear the sentries, who must certainly be near them; but this they had +to risk. + +"This way," said Leo, just above his breath. + +They were brought up short by the stone balustrade, over which they +scrambled, jumping down on to the grass. At that instant, the sky was +lit up by a flash, broad and blue as a stream of molten silver. For +one second, they, the trees and the bushes, stood out distinctly, then +the darkness wrapped them round again, and they were deafened by the +succeeding peal of thunder. Leo seized Sonia's hand, and dragged her +along with him: an alarming sight had met their eyes; crouching under +the shelter of the trees were a number of sentries, their hoods pulled +up over their heads, and their guns under their waterproof capes. The +fugitives had been seen. A shrill whistle was audible through the +dying reverberations of the thunder, and lanterns appeared at various +points. The darkness protected them for a moment, but they dreaded the +next flash. The lights seemed to move more rapidly, and voices called +out questions and answers. Leo and the girl ran on wildly through the +wet grass; suddenly a rough voice shouted something quite close to +them, and a lantern was flashed into their faces. Before the young man +knew what was happening, he found himself engaged in a hand-to-hand +combat; his left hand grasped a rifle-barrel, his right, a wet and +twisted collar. A shot rang out, and a red flame seemed to flash just +below his elbow: using his knee as a lever, he bent the gun across +it, wrenched it free, and flung it away. His panting assailant, whose +breath reeked of bad tobacco, seized him by the shoulders and tried to +force him down, but Leo got the fellow round the waist, lifted him off +the ground, and they rolled over together. His clenched fist came in +contact with a chin, and he received several kicks from feet tramping +backwards and forwards. He sprang up, caught hold of someone, who swore +violently, and hurled him far in amongst the bushes, just as another +flash lighted up the landscape. The vivid glare showed him the Austrian +struggling with three men at once. + +"They've got me!" Raebel cried; "see to yourself!" + +Leo turned to find yet another adversary, gave him a stinging blow on +the ear, and dodged past him into the shelter of the trees. Somebody +made a grab at his foot, but he kicked it loose, and after a minute's +frantic rush through soaking wet branches and leaves, which slapped him +in the face, he found himself on level ground, drew a deep breath, and +realized that he was in the avenue. Had he actually broken through the +cordon of sentries? It seemed almost impossible, but without stopping +to puzzle it out, he sped on down the avenue. He fancied he could hear +light footsteps running a little ahead of him; it was Sonia, and he +called out softly to her. But what was this? She was running towards +him: was she turning back? They stopped opposite one another. + +"Why have you turned back?" he panted; "are they in front of us?" + +"No, no," she whispered eagerly; "it is you ... if you go in this +direction ... it's you that are making a mistake ... look, look!" + +Sure enough, Leo noticed to his dismay that in the darkness he had +taken a wrong turn. Through the trees in front of them, he now saw +the terrace steps, full of lights and men. The little party from the +boat were just marching up the path from the bay, and the short figure +in the waterproof was ascending the steps, at a brisk, steady pace. +Someone held a lantern in front to guide him, and by its light they saw +his pale, determined face, looking upwards and onwards, as though he +intended to allow nothing to turn him from his purpose. + +Then Leo and Sonia turned and fled, without looking behind them. +Gabriel Ortiz' face had terrified them by its indomitable strength, and +they realized that all was lost, unless they succeeded in obtaining +help. Stumbling along through the pools of water, they hurried on +faster and faster. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + _Gabriel Ortiz musters his forces and counts his prisoners_ + + +Maurice Wallion remained at the window for some little time. The +lightning had shown him the terrace empty: would the three messengers +succeed in getting past the sentries? He was quivering all over with +excitement.... + +Ah, what was that! That ominous whistle must mean that someone had seen +them. There was a flash through the darkness as a shot was fired; he +leaned out, and heard a confused noise among the trees, where lights +now began to dance like will o' the wisps. + +Lona Ivanovna, at his elbow, gave a little gasp. + +"That was a shot," she said; "what is wrong out there?" The lights +clustered together, then shifted rapidly from one spot to another. + +"Hark, that's the Austrian's voice: it sounds as though they had caught +him ... but the others! Sonia!" she whispered anxiously; "if only we +could see!" + +They held their breath, but now nothing could be heard except the swish +of the rain, and most of the lights had disappeared. + +"They've done it!" said Wallion. "I believe they have got through." He +closed the window, and went out into the hall. + +"Our part of the task remains to be done," he added; "look, there +comes the procession, but without its band and colors. This begins to +get exciting! I wonder in which character the great man will appear +to-night: emperor or millionaire?" + +He posted himself just inside the glass doors, and watched with calm +interest the spectacle outside. It was really, as he said, a regular +procession that was advancing, though at present, one could only +distinguish a line of shadowy forms, interspersed with flickering white +lights. + +Five of Rastakov's men ran first up the terrace steps, and took up +their position at some distance from one another; they were followed by +Rastakov himself, calling out a series of orders in Russian. A minute +later, the whole terrace was illuminated by the powerful glare of four +acetylene lights, carried by as many torch-bearers, who halted at the +top of the steps, and looked round them expectantly: other shadows were +visible behind them. + +The short, upright figure in the waterproof now marched up the +steps, with Baron Fayerling on his left: his every movement was firm +and unhesitating. The baron was speaking: he was evidently giving +his report, to which the Chief listened without stopping, without +answering, without looking at his companion. Close behind them came +six men, wearing the uniform of marines, and armed with cutlasses and +carbines. + +"Look at his bodyguard!" murmured the journalist; "the great man +doesn't trust himself entirely to his friends: one might almost +imagine...." + +He broke off. The torch-bearers had shifted their position a little, +and the bright light fell directly on Ortiz' face. From that moment, +Wallion no longer saw anything ridiculous about his antagonist; he was +obliged to admit (like everyone else who had been brought into contact +with this man), that the first glimpse of Ortiz' face made a remarkable +impression upon him; its look of intense concentration fascinated him; +the man's whole self seemed bent on the attainment of an all-embracing, +all-absorbing, and as yet unrealized ambition. His face was pale, but +expressive of unlimited strength of will; the mouth small, straight, +thin-lipped, and unsmiling; the eyes, which were deep set and +penetrating, seemed to look far beyond their immediate surroundings +into some boundless realm of fancy, bright with the promise of +power and sovereignty; and from their depths shone the unquenchable +conviction which is the hall-mark of the fanatic. + +"Do you see him?" whispered Lona Ivanovna. + +"Yes," answered the journalist; "I see that I have made a +miscalculation." + +"What did you expect?" + +Wallion did not answer. What exactly had he expected? A caricature +of Napoleon? A common adventurer, acting a ridiculous part? No, and +yet he had perhaps unconsciously hoped that Gabriel Ortiz should turn +out to be--just the "Emperor of the Amazons." But the antagonist +who at length presented himself, after months of suspense, was no +comic hero--he was a man! A man who, in deadly earnest, was bent on +fulfilling his dearest ambition in defiance of law and order--and +between him and his ambition stood only one obstacle--Maurice Wallion. + +"What a fight it will be," said the journalist aloud; "one of us must +go under!" He breathed hard, and clenched and unclenched his fists. + +"Now!" whispered Lona Ivanovna. + +The group on the terrace advanced again; Baron Fayerling had finished +talking, and stepped on one side. Gabriel Ortiz was walking towards the +house, his head bent, and his hands clasped behind him. Suddenly he +looked up, and said sharply: + +"Who are in the house?" + +The baron's reply was inaudible, but Wallion was sure that he only +mentioned three names, as he made a gesture towards the dark garden. +Ortiz nodded shortly. Lona Ivanovna remarked, from her place by +Wallion's side: + +"If only I had that baron's throat between my fingers!" + +He hushed her with a look, and drew her back from the door as she was +on the point of sallying forth. + +"You must keep as cool as ice!" he warned her; "you will want all your +wits, all your cunning now. Our aim is to gain time, not to indulge in +heroics; put away your revolver, it would only make matters worse." + +She replaced the weapon reluctantly in her workbag, and they withdrew +silently. + +At a signal from the baron, the lights were turned upon the entire +front of the house, shining right into the windows; slanting, +flickering shafts of light illuminated the hall, and just as Lona +Ivanovna and the journalist were leaving it, the locked doors yielded +to a violent push, showers of glass tinkled over the oak floor, and the +walls echoed to the steady tramp of men. + +"Lights on everywhere!" ordered the baron. "Put a man at every door; +you two stop here." + +Steps approached the dining-room: the curtain that screened it from the +hall, was pulled aside with a rattle, and Ortiz appeared in the doorway. + +He looked coolly and critically at the persons who awaited him; then +he came in, still accompanied by the baron. Two of the men in uniform +stood on guard by the door, and two others placed their lamps on the +mantelpiece, filling the room with a dazzling light, in which faces +appeared unnaturally pale, and shadows unnaturally dark. There was +silence for an instant: Ortiz, his hands still behind him, signed to +his adjutant to draw back a little, that he might speak. His deep, +piercing glance travelled from the white-haired form in the armchair to +Lona Ivanovna's upright figure, and finally rested upon Wallion. He +seemed to be looking down upon them from a great height, taking stock +of everything, and coördinating all details into one complete whole. + +But the journalist, who was growing impatient, could not deny himself +the satisfaction of the first word. + +"Good evening, Gabriel Ortiz. I have long wished to meet you; dare I +hope that Baron Fayerling will introduce me?" + +Ortiz unfastened his dripping waterproof, and threw his hat on a chair. + +"It is not necessary, Maurice Wallion: I know you already." + +"And my--friends?" asked the journalist, emphasizing the word +"friends," and waving his hand towards Lona Ivanovna and the sick man. +"Do you...?" + +"I know them also." + +Ortiz' reply was short and sharp. His expression changed as he looked +at the journalist: it evinced more hostility but at the same time, more +interest than before, and he added: + +"Do you count them among your friends? That is risky; I am sorry that +you have come here, Maurice Wallion." + +"Would it not be more to the point if you explained by what right you +invade the Copper House in this brutal way?" + +"By the strongest right!" + +"You are on Swedish soil: let me remind you of its laws." + +"I have my own." + +"In other words, you are an outlaw." + +"From your point of view--not from mine." + +"Do you depend so much upon our being helpless?" + +"No, I depend only upon myself. I have not come here to make +terms: your point of view does not interest me. I have come to get +Tarraschin's memorandum." + +"Are you sure that it exists?" + +"Yes, for what else could you offer in exchange?" + +"In exchange for what?" + +"Your life." + +Ortiz uttered these two words in a perfectly ordinary tone, but his +deep-set eyes remained somber and remote; his inmost thoughts seemed +to have strayed into that far-off region where his future lay hidden. +Wallion realized that to this dark and dangerous being, one life +signified less than nothing, but he said quietly: + +"You are too hasty; threats are not a sign of strength." + +Ortiz turned away without answering him. + +"A table and a chair!" he commanded. The two men hastened to obey, and +placed what he asked for in the middle of the room; he seated himself, +and the baron took up his position close by. + +Wallion remained on the alert for any sounds from outside. By this +time, the three messengers ought to have solved their problem. No +sound issued from the darkness that surrounded the house; the rain +had abated, and there were longer intervals between the flashes of +lightning. Was it possible that all three had got safely away? + +"I miss three of your friends," said Ortiz suddenly; "where are they?" + +"Do you wish to see them?" + +"I do." + +"Then I regret that I can give you no information about them." + +Ortiz laid a paper on the table in front of him. It was covered with +names and dates; he ran his pen down the lines, making a mark against +three of them: finally he looked up. + +"Rosenthal, gardener. Bring the man in, Baron Fayerling." + +The baron went to the door, a scuffle was heard in the hall, and, +panting and dishevelled, a drenched figure was hustled up to the table: +it was the Austrian. + +"Look at me," said Ortiz coldly. "Are you Rosenthal?" + +"Yes," replied the gardener hoarsely. + +"You were engaged on the recommendation of Madame Sumensov, on the 29th +of April?" + +"Yes." + +"You have made two attempts to betray us to-day; what have you to say +for yourself?" + +The Austrian was silent. + +"Have you nothing to say?" + +"No." + +"Can you deny that you are an Austrian detective named Max Raebel?" +said Ortiz. + +The Austrian laughed bitterly: + +"No, I am glad you know it," he replied. "It doesn't matter now; I have +done with you and your associates in Russia; you may do your worst...." + +Ortiz seemed to ignore this remark; he made a sign to the baron, +pointed to the paper, and said a few words in an undertone. The baron +shrugged his shoulders: + +"That's impossible!" he replied with a contemptuous glance at the +Austrian. Ortiz got up, went across to the detective, and looked him +straight in the face. + +"You have been here two months," said he, reflectively; "have you made +any notes?" + +"Do you think so little of me as to ask me that?" retorted Raebel. "I +never take notes, but I have a good memory...." + +"What is your memory worth?" + +Raebel did not reply. + +"A million, perhaps?" + +"No. Do you wish me to name my terms?" + +"Yes." + +"Give me Tarraschin's memorandum, surrender yourself to the +authorities, and distribute your millions among the poor, and I may +consider the matter!" + +Ortiz turned his back upon him, returned to the table, and said, +without raising his voice: + +"See that this fellow is taken on board, when we leave here." + +"Would it not be better to do it at once?" suggested the baron. + +"No, I might require him again. Isn't Rastakov ready yet?" + +"Yes, he's just coming." + +Rastakov entered the room. + +"Well!" Ortiz greeted him. + +"I have searched Rosenthal's room," replied Rastakov; "he has made no +notes, and I have found nothing." + +"Good!" + +Ortiz sat silent for a little time. It did not escape Wallion that the +baron and Rastakov exchanged a rapid glance full of uneasiness; he +could guess the reason. + +Ortiz looked at his watch. + +"Rastakov--have you left any of your men in Stockholm?" + +"No, they are all here." + +"Nobody missing?" + +"No." + +"Is everything aboard the lighter?" + +"Yes." + +"Good!" said the Chief once again. "Bring in Leonard Grath and Sonia +Bernin immediately; I don't wish to wait any longer." + +The baron bit his lips and looked nervously at Rastakov. For several +seconds a dead silence reigned in the room, at the end of which +Rastakov went out, making an ambiguous sign to Fayerling. + +"Well!" said Ortiz, raising his voice, and looking round him. "Where is +Rastakov gone? What does this mean? Am I not to be obeyed?" + +Max Raebel had drawn close to Wallion, and said rapidly in a barely +audible voice: + +"They caught me almost directly, but I played my part for all it was +worth, I can tell you! Three of them seized me at once and dragged me +down, but I believe the youngsters got away safely." + +Ortiz fixed his dark eyes upon them, and exclaimed sharply: "Gentlemen! +You had better speak out loud; nobody whispers in my presence. Can +either of _you_ perhaps inform me where the two missing persons are to +be found?" + +Wallion replied: + +"They have gone to fetch some friends of mine, who might otherwise +arrive too late to meet you...." + +Ortiz' eyes blazed; this time he was visibly provoked, and patches of +red appeared on his cheeks. + +"So that is what you are waiting for! I saw through you from the first; +you are at the bottom of all this. You must be a very optimistic man, +Maurice Wallion, if you imagine that I have not anticipated your +action. Do I need to tell you that nothing can stop me?" + +He struck the table with the palm of his hand. + +"I am the master of Copper House for to-night, and I intend to show +it! You have sent them to alarm the authorities? That is a good move: +but do you suppose that Rastakov would be such a fool as to admit them? +And if he did, what would be the result? When the authorities get here, +they will find no one to tell them what has occurred. I sweep clean +after me, as you ought to know, after seeking me for so long." + +"Brooms don't always sweep quite clean enough!" answered Wallion; +"to begin with, how do you know that the runaways have not taken +Tarraschin's memorandum with them, as literature for the journey?" + +This shot struck home. Ortiz walked up to the journalist, and looked at +him intently. + +"If you have dared to do that!" said he, slowly; "but no, it is +impossible. You couldn't be so foolishly reckless!" + +He turned to Lona Ivanovna, who met his eyes without flinching. + +"I know you, Lona Ivanovna! For you, and for him there," and he nodded +contemptuously at the silent figure crouched in the armchair, "the +document is altogether too costly!" + +He swung round on his heel. + +"Baron Fayerling! What are you waiting for? If there is such delay in +bringing in my prisoners, I must take more vigorous measures." + +The baron bowed low. + +"I believe they are on the way here," he answered. + +The Austrian seized Wallion by the arm: + +"Hark, I hear people coming up the avenue! Either they have been +caught, or else...." + +A noise outside became audible. The journalist looked out of the +window, and saw a dozen lanterns coming up the avenue, in whose light +the dark faces of a band of men were visible; rifle-barrels gleamed, +and a voice shouted: + +"Are you all here? In with you, there is no time to lose!" + +A crowd of men surged into the hall. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + _Leo and Sonia determine to steal a motor-car but fall into an + unexpected trap_ + + +Never before had Leo found the avenue between the Copper House and +Karka gates so interminably long. Sometimes it seemed as wide as a +boulevard, at others no broader than a woodland path, where he kept on +bumping into the trees, and grazing his hands. The rain, which blew in +diagonal lines across their path, or fell upon their heads in heavy +drops from the thick foliage, drenched, but did not cool him; hot and +breathless, he stumbled continually, and at last stood still, perfectly +bewildered. + +"Wait!" he panted to the young girl. "It has never taken me more than +six minutes to walk down this avenue, but to-night it seems by some +sort of black magic to be five times longer than usual. If one could at +least see one's own nose!" + +"Hush!" whispered Sonia. "We are somewhere near the lodge; I fancied I +saw a light...." + +Leo started nervously. + +"Is there someone behind us?" he exclaimed, trying to peer between +the trees. But he could no longer see even the lights on the terrace, +and came to the conclusion that they must somehow have traversed the +entire length of the avenue. + +"No, it's nobody," said the girl, after listening for a minute; "they +are too busy now with Ortiz' arrival." + +"Ortiz! don't speak of him, I am scared to death when I think of his +face: supposing he comes after us!" + +"No, no," said the girl, catching hold of his coat. "Never mind Ortiz +now! Look, isn't that a light over there?" + +They went on through the trees; a flash of lightning flickered through +the darkness, but its momentary glimmer was not sufficient to show them +their exact whereabouts; it was succeeded by a brief peal of thunder, +echoing among the surrounding hills. Leo could see nothing of the light +which the girl had noticed. + +"Yes, yes!" she insisted; "it was just as though somebody was lighting +a pipe--ah, there it is again!" + +This time they really saw a faint glow, which threw an intermittent +light upon a brutal face, wreathed in smoke, whilst a burning match +ricochetted through the air and went out. Leo recognized the face of +the gate-keeper Tugan, who had fired at him on his first arrival at the +Copper House. + +They heard him grumbling to himself, and suddenly a light flared +out again: the man had opened a dark-lantern, and was flashing it +suspiciously first on one side, then on the other, but without +discovering the fugitives, who had taken cover behind the trunk of a +large tree. After some minutes the light vanished, and they thought +they heard steps moving away. Meanwhile, the temporary illumination had +shown them where they were: the lodge was not more than twenty paces +away from them, and twenty paces further on to the right, they could +make out the bars of the gates. The gate-keeper seemed to be the only +human being about. + +"He has gone," whispered Sonia. "He went out of the gate." + +"No," returned Leo, "he went inside: I heard a door shut." + +"Impossible, for we should see a light in the window." + +"Not necessarily; he would be on the look-out." + +They wrangled obstinately, though in subdued tones, assured that the +rain and the wind were sufficient to cover any sound they might make. + +"Let us wait a few seconds, and we shall know for certain"; Leo +proposed finally; "I don't feel quite comfortable about it; the old fox +may be lying in wait." + +They stood so close together, sheltering as best they could from the +rain, that the girl's soft hair brushed his face, and he could feel the +vibration of her hurried breathing. She was evidently strung-up to a +high pitch of excitement, and her agitation communicated itself to him, +making him feel strengthless and confused. + +"Sonia," said he, taking her hand, "I may call you Sonia, mayn't I? +Your fingers are like ice, are you very frightened? Things have gone +rather well, so far." + +"No," she answered in a low tone, not withdrawing her hand; "I am not +frightened...." + +He ventured to squeeze the little hand. + +"You'll see, if once we can get safely out of this, it will be all +right. We shall manage to outwit the lot of them, Ortiz and his +myrmidons; he shan't hurt your people, and to-morrow a happier future +will dawn...." + +"There can be no future for me," she burst out mournfully, "unless, +unless...." + +"Yes, unless what? Tell me." + +"Unless Sergius is saved. He runs the greatest risk of all, and if he +dies...." + +She broke off with a sob, and the sound struck Leo like a blow. + +"Yes, of course, Sergius," he murmured. "Oh, that'll be all right. +Sergius shan't be taken from you." + +In spite of his brave words he was conscious of a feeling of exhaustion +and disappointment, as he realized that he had been fixing his hopes on +something that was quite out of his reach ... no, it was best as it +was ... Sergius! So all her anxiety was for him. Ah well, perhaps it +was the most suitable.... + +He pulled himself together. + +"Come along!" he encouraged her; "let's go ahead to rescue Sergius." + +They went up to the lodge, and tried to look in through the window. + +"He isn't there," whispered the girl. + +"No, so it seems," muttered Leo; "but which way did he go?" + +"That doesn't matter, we needn't bother about him," she returned +impatiently. "Don't you remember that the telephone is here? We must +telephone for help." + +"Yes, you are right, let us do so at once." + +They skirted the wall, and approached the door. Leo turned the handle, +found the door unfastened, and entered. + +Something whizzed past him with an ominous sound, and struck the +door-post with a crack: it was a knife. + +"Ha!" cried the young man, "is that your game, you sneaking brute!" + +The burly form of the gate-keeper loomed dimly just inside the door, +and Leo flung himself unhesitatingly upon him, for he knew that it was +a matter of life or death. His enemy seized him in a bear's hug, but he +wriggled out of it, and planted his fist squarely in the center of the +brutal face. The fellow reeled backwards, slipped his right hand behind +him, and raised the butt of his gun over his head, with a furious +bellow. + +"Oh no, I have had enough of that gun of yours," said Leo; "I owe you +something for yesterday. Tit for tat, you know. Now then, come on and +get it! And there's another: and just one more!" + +Tugan had counted too much on his brute strength; the young man's +powerful onrush gave him no chance of inflicting his intended +death-blow with the clubbed rifle; a smashing blow on the point of the +chin knocked him off his feet, he fell backwards over chairs and table +with a crash, and lay motionless. + +Leo groped for the matches, and a tiny, flickering flame lighted up the +room. Tugan was stunned, and lay like a pole-axed steer on the floor; +Sonia stared at him in alarm. + +"Is he dead?" she whispered. + +"No, he will soon come to." + +With a certain satisfaction, Leo reflected that he must now have +regained the prestige which he had lost in her eyes by his sham fight +with the Austrian. The match went out, but he struck another, and +lighted a candle which stood on the table. The telephone became visible +on the wall near the door, and a thrill of triumph went through him, as +he picked up the receiver. At last he had succeeded! In another minute +their plight would be made known to the outside world, and help would +be forthcoming. + +"Hallo!" he shouted impatiently: "hallo! Now then, Exchange! Can't you +answer? Are you all asleep there? Hallo, hallo!" + +Sonia gave a cry and pointed to the wall. + +"Look! the wires are cut! The telephone is useless!" + +Leo saw that she was right: the cut wires were dangling down. With an +exclamation of dismay, he flung away the receiver. + +"It is dreadful," faltered Sonia; "it shows that they have no further +need of it; they just want to secure themselves against being +surprised. We are lost!" + +"Not yet," muttered Leo, "not yet." + +He extinguished the candle, and they hurried out again into the rain, +which had come on more heavily. They looked around them, and Leo said: + +"We must get out through the gates." + +"It's the only way," she agreed, but broke off. "Oh, look, look! +They're coming!" she whispered. + +Leo glanced instinctively up the avenue. Far back amongst the great +trees, lights began to be reflected in the puddles, and to throw +fantastic, leaping shadows on the path. There seemed to be four or five +lanterns, and their rapid movements showed that the men who carried +them were running. + +Without a word, Leo made for the gates; they were just ajar, and +creaked horribly as they were pushed open to let the fugitives through. +Out on the high-road they could hear voices inside the park, giving +the alarm. In the middle of the road, eight or ten steps away, stood a +large car, quivering with the throbbing of its engine. Two fugitives in +wet coats were crouching under the hood, but they sprang out, and their +black shadows were clearly defined against the beams of the headlights. + +"We must have this," said Leo, and he rushed forward ready to throw the +two figures into the mud. He immediately recognized one of them to be +Marcus Tassler; the other was, presumably, the chauffeur. The young man +"saw red," and he cried: + +"Ah, here is our excellent friend, our benefactor, the honest merchant! +So you persist in hanging about here, sir! I suppose you carry about +the mortgages in your pocket, to make quite sure that I am not running +off with the securities for your cash. Come along, old boy!--you fat +little Nebuchadnezzar!--just come along, and I'll reckon up what I owe +you!" + +He advanced threateningly, and, with a bound, Tassler placed himself in +safety on the other side of the car. + +"The fellow is mad!" he yelled. "Shoot him! Knock him down!" + +The chauffeur threw himself between them, with a spanner in his gloved +hand. He was a little bit of a man, and Leo put both arms around his +waist, lifted him up, in spite of his frantic struggles, and flung him +across the road, where he disappeared with a splash. Tassler continued +to shout and threaten from the further side of the car. + +"Easy there, old boy!" said Leo. "I haven't time...." + +Sonia had already clambered into the car, and he followed her. He threw +himself down behind the wheel, and grasped it as eagerly as though it +had been a life-buoy. It was a pleasant surprise to find that the car +was a "Mercedes," such as he had frequently driven in California. He +cast one more look through the gates, towards the avenue: the dancing +lights had almost caught them up. He touched the starting-gear with +a light and practiced hand, and the car began to purr gently, gave a +slight jerk, and rolled forward, as the tires took a grip of the wet +surface of the road. + +Tassler tore open his coat, snatched out a little nickelled revolver, +and--piff, piff!--a couple of bullets whizzed past them. "Bang!" a +rifle replied from the avenue. The young man laughed aloud. Sonia +looked at him with surprise, and with renewed interest: he seemed +transformed. The fighting blood of the Graths had for a few short +moments wakened into life in this last effeminate scion of the race. At +that minute he would have marched up to a battery of machine-guns: his +eyes sparkled, and his long, "artistic" hair seemed to stand out round +his head like a halo. The car shot away, its fifty horse-power obedient +to the touch of his hand: they were off on the road to freedom. The +dazzling headlights illuminated the darkness for ten yards ahead of +them, and made the wet road shine like polished marble. The trees +bordering the road stood motionless, their boughs heavy with moisture. +And still the rain streamed and splashed down on them, in a tepid, +unceasing shower-bath: it gurgled in the ditches, and drummed on the +glass wind-screen of the car. + +"Au revoir, Marcus!" Leo shouted over his shoulder. His voice was +drowned in a peal of thunder, but the girl clapped her hands. + +"That's splendid!" she exclaimed delightedly. "They can't catch us! +Where will you drive to?" + +"First of all to the nearest usable telephone," he replied. "And +then--well, I hope there may be some sort of police-station in this +neighborhood, otherwise we must make straight for Stockholm; it's all +plain sailing now." + +"Do you know the way?" + +"Don't I just! Like the inside of my pocket!" + +His self-confidence had gone up a hundred per cent., since he got his +hands on the steering-wheel. He let out the car to its fullest extent, +murmuring: + +"Good old Mercedes!--it's up to you, now! Show what you can do!" + +And almost at the same instant, as the car obeyed him, and shot out +at full speed, with the dizzying rush of a torpedo--at that instant +the catastrophe was upon them! Their triumph was changed into bitter +disappointment, and now they understood why so few shots had been sent +after them; it was not freedom, but a murderous trap that awaited them. + +"The wretches!" cried Leo. "They mean to murder us!" + +Across the road in front of them, they caught sight of a network +of slender, gleaming, sharp-edged threads; they were steel wires, +stretched like a barbed-wire entanglement from side to side. At the +speed at which they were going, every one of these wires must meet +them like a sword-blade: it was impossible to evade them, they were +everywhere. + +The steering-wheel spun round between the young man's +convulsively-working fingers; the car leaped from the track, swung +round on two wheels, gave a terrific lurch, and ran in under the trees +to a distance of several feet. The whole dead-weight of the ponderous +machine was flung crashing into the ditch. Leo was shot through the +air, and fell with outspread arms, and a sickening thud, deep into a +soft, water-logged swamp. He rolled over, felt the water spurt up under +his arms, and struggled to his knees. Both the lamps of the car had +been smashed, and impenetrable darkness surrounded him. Dizzy with the +shock, he felt as though he were still falling, and, faint with terror, +he managed to catch hold of a branch. At length his head cleared, and +he remembered his companion; what had become of her? + +"Sonia!" he called anxiously; "Sonia!" + +He scrambled to his feet. A sharp pain in his left shoulder showed +him that he had not escaped unhurt, but for the minute that seemed of +little consequence. + +"Sonia, Sonia, where are you?" + +"Here!" answered a faint voice. + +He took a few steps, and ran into her; she was on her feet, leaning +against the trunk of a tree, and trying to bandage her right hand with +her handkerchief. + +"Are you hurt?" he asked. "Can you walk?" + +"Yes," she replied; "it's only a scratch. What about you?" + +"Nothing to speak of." + +"Let's go on," she murmured, but tottered as she spoke, and fell into +his arms. "My head is a little giddy--never mind me--go...." + +He saw that she was on the point of fainting, lifted her up, and +carried her down to the road. + +"Put me down," she said in a weak voice: "I can walk; we must hurry." + +The lights from the gates were already quite near; they came on like a +swarm of flying gnats, and running footsteps splashed along the road. +At the sight of the wrecked car, a great shout of savage laughter was +raised, and a voice called out: + +"Stay there, you two, or I shall shoot!" + +They were surrounded, and rough hands caught hold of them. Marcus +Tassler's breathless voice panted in the background: + +"Keep a sharp look-out on them, and take them with you to the Copper +House. That was a very short drive, wasn't it, my young friends! You +haven't much fight left in you, have you?" + +He came up, laughing and rubbing his hands. Leo's excitement had died +away, his muscles relaxed, and he realized that he was beaten. Fate was +against them. Without a word, he and the young girl walked back side +by side to the gates, surrounded by eight or ten men who hustled them +along with coarse jests. They were prisoners once more. As Leo took a +last glance in the direction where their lost freedom awaited them, he +saw a little bright light shine out and twinkle, a long way off. It +seemed to come from one of the hills to the left of the road, about a +mile or so away, and was probably a signal. He wondered idly what it +meant, and took it for granted that it was exchanged between some of +Rastakov's men, but turned listlessly into the avenue, too worn-out +to think. He didn't care what happened now: he had done his best--and +failed! + +Yet when he remembered Gabriel Ortiz, whose face he had already seen +for one terrifying moment, he shuddered. The girl murmured softly: + +"Ortiz is waiting for us!" + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + _Tarraschin's memorandum changes owners_ + + +Inside the Copper House, the atmosphere of suspense became more and +more heavily charged; nobody quite knew the cause of the sounds +which now reached them from the avenue. It was impossible to guess +what Ortiz was thinking, for he had spread out a map on the table, +and was studying it carefully. Wallion could see that it was a map +of the environs of the Copper House. Suddenly Ortiz looked up into +the journalist's eyes, with a frown; at that moment he really looked +uncommonly like the "Little Gray Corporal." With his sparse, straggling +hair, his keen, rather preoccupied glance, his small mouth, and round +but determined chin, he was an exact copy of Napoleon, and the gray +coat enveloping his thick-set figure increased the realistic effect. + +Although he was evidently aware of this, and took pleasure in +maintaining the pose, he did not lay himself open to ridicule: there +was a threatening expression in his eyes, and his remarks were +emphasized by the presence of the carbines at the door. + +"Do you hear that?" he said, slowly; "there goes your last chance." + +"It may be help coming," retorted Wallion imperturbably. + +"Do you really think that?" + +"You yourself need to study a map: you would be powerless against a +well-planned surprise." + +Ortiz raised his eyebrows, but his immediate reply virtually admitted +the truth of the insinuation. + +"A whole regiment would not be able to prevent my getting away by sea." + +"As long as you did not fall in with two or three torpedo boats outside +the headland!" + +"Ah," murmured Ortiz, "is that why you sent off your friends?" + +"Yes, they will give the alarm to the coast guards, if they have not +already been warned. I had not counted on a stolen submarine when I +came here, but now I know where I have you...." + +As they talked, both men were on the alert for sounds from outside; +people were approaching, and as though at a given signal, those inside +the room re-grouped themselves. + +Ortiz and Fayerling took a few quick steps towards the door, and the +sentries grounded their rifles; Wallion, Raebel and Lona Ivanovna drew +back towards the window, and stood in front of the pretended Andrei +Bernin, in his armchair. The two groups kept a watchful eye on one +another across the room. + +"Discussion is useless," said Ortiz, presently; "your friends have +failed--look!" + +A confused mass of shadows became visible through the doorway, and +rifle-butts clanged on the hall floor. Two weary and dejected figures +were pushed forward into the circle of light in the middle of the room: +they were Leo and Sonia, and Wallion could not repress an exclamation +of disappointment. + +"You have failed?" he said, going up close to Leo; "haven't you +telephoned or done anything?" + +The young man shook his head wearily: + +"We did our best, but they were too clever for us: it was a trap." + +In a few words he told his story. Sonia had taken refuge in her aunt's +arms. + +The journalist perceived that he could no longer expect help from +any quarter, and that he must rely entirely upon his own skill and +resourcefulness; it was like the final moves in a game of chess, +when the board has been swept clean of all but a few pieces, and the +antagonists are two evenly-matched and quick-witted players. Leo Grath +and the others were pale with mortification: they had lost heart, and +were powerless to make any further attempt to save themselves, though +Max Raebel, who stood just behind the journalist, said in a low tone: + +"We are out of our depth, Mr. Wallion, things look bad for us. But if +you give the word, I am at your orders: at least, we can still use our +fists!" + +The journalist did not reply, but turned to Ortiz, who was listening +to Rastakov's and Tassler's obsequious report. + +"Gabriel Ortiz," he said quietly, "I warn you for the last time: we are +under the protection of the law of Sweden." + +The adventurer turned round, and inspected him from head to foot. + +"I presume I am to consider that as a formal protest?" + +"Yes. It is addressed to your friends as well as to yourself." + +"My friends!" echoed Ortiz, in an indescribably contemptuous tone; "if +I and my plans were dependent on my friends, I should be weaker than +you. Do you suppose I take either friends or enemies into account? Your +protest is futile, sir, and if you haven't perceived it already, I +shall convince you of it." + +He gave an order in Russian. The two marines stepped forward, and +took possession of Lona Ivanovna's revolver, the butt of which was +protruding from her workbag. The old Russian lady was taken off her +guard, but she quickly realized that she was disarmed, and rapped out +an indignant oath. Sonia caressed her soothingly: + +"Never mind, Auntie," she whispered. "Keep still; don't make Sergius +uneasy: he is looking this way, and I think he wants to say something +to you." + +"Yes, of course, child," murmured the old lady, irritably, "he wants +to fight, and so do I; it is only natural...." She leaned across to +the white-haired figure in the armchair, and a few brief sentences were +exchanged between mother and son. The journalist watched her closely, +for he feared that the hotheaded old Russian was contemplating some +rash step, and suddenly he guessed that Sergius was still armed. Lona +Ivanovna must be trying to persuade him to give her his revolver. Was +she determined to make a fight for the document? To his relief, Sergius +simply shook his head, and Lona Ivanovna drew back in high dudgeon. As +she looked at Wallion, he said softly: + +"Let sleeping dogs lie! Leave your son's revolver, we may need it later +on." + +The other marine now proceeded to search Wallion's clothes, turning +over his papers, and rummaging in his pockets. He seemed greatly +surprised at finding nothing, and called out something inquiringly. +Ortiz waved his hand, and the man returned to the door. Wallion had +allowed himself to be searched without saying a word, though he thought +the more. The man had over-hauled him thoroughly and rapidly, and had +probably been a policeman in former times: which would account for his +dexterity. Ortiz had chosen his men carefully; supposing one of them +had the inspiration to--no! The journalist resolutely banished that +thought from his mind. + +But some obscure association of ideas made him open his cigarette case, +and light a cigarette at the tiny blue flame of the cigar-lighter which +he always carried in his waistcoat pocket. A barely perceptible smile +flitted across his face. Perhaps Ortiz noticed the smile, for he said +in a harsh voice: + +"You are unarmed; you have no possible means of communicating with the +outer world; my will is paramount here: need I put things more plainly? +My will! In those two words you have the only law that carries weight +here to-night." + +"And before what court of law will you enforce it?" inquired the +journalist politely. + +"Do you insist upon a set trial?" + +"Oh, don't put yourself out on my account!" + +"Take care! I am not accustomed to be spoken to in such a tone. I +suppose you are trying to gain time? What can you hope for now? I +assure you we could blow the Copper House into atoms to-night, without +a single person being near enough to see even the reflection in the +sky. Don't you hear that?" + +Hear? Wallion _felt_, with every nerve in his body, the long-drawn out +reverberations of the thunder-storm which raged anew over their heads, +whilst the dark window-panes were continually lit up by the glare of +the lightning. He knew perfectly well that the adventurer was not +exaggerating. + +"A court of law," Ortiz repeated. "Baron Fayerling, these people seem +to expect us to perform a scene from comic opera!... Very good, if +they are such sticklers for form, I appoint you as general prosecutor, +baron, but be brief." + +The baron said slowly: + +"I accuse Maurice Wallion of having used force to hinder me in carrying +out an appointed task, of having attacked my assistant Rastakov, and of +having helped the thief, Bernard Jenin, to get away with Tarraschin's +memorandum." + +"A comprehensive indictment!" remarked Wallion. + +"Do you deny it?" + +"What would be the good?" + +After a minute's silence, the baron proceeded: + +"I accuse Lona Ivanovna, Andrei Ivanovitch, and Sonia Andreievna, +of having received and hidden the thief, whose real name is Sergius +Tassler." + +"And whose father stands there!" interrupted Lona Ivanovna in a +threatening voice, pointing at the merchant, who started back; "of +what can _you_ accuse your own son, and your former wife? Why are you +silent? Are you beginning to feel what an utter worm you are, little +Marcus? Speak, man! Out with it, or I am afraid you will choke...." + +The merchant tried to reply, but his trembling lips could only +articulate an indistinct murmur. + +"Silence!" said Ortiz sharply.... "You are to answer and not to ask +questions, Lona Ivanovna. Where have you hidden Sergius Tassler?" His +dark, steadfast gaze seemed to read her inmost thoughts.... + +"You refuse to answer?" + +He put his hands behind his back, and came up to her, thrusting out +his head, and compelling her to meet his eyes. + +"You are obstinate? Do you think I need your answer? I tell you, I saw +through the whole of your miserable little secret as soon as I got into +the room--but it amused me to play with you--look here!" + +Before anyone guessed his intention, he had snatched the wig from +the fugitive's head; the blue spectacles fell on the floor, and were +broken. Sergius sprang up with a cry, and stood unmasked, pale and +agitated before Ortiz, who continued with appalling composure: + +"The game is up. No, my lad, your plan was really too audacious! You +didn't calculate that I should be aware of the important fact that +Andrei Bernin was dead; and besides, the man who wears a flowing beard +on a young face, should be careful to keep in the dark...." + +This revelation produced an overwhelming impression. The baron and +Rastakov, realizing how they had been tricked, stood mute, glaring +malignantly at the man who had foiled them; Lona Ivanovna tried +to spring forward, but one of Rastakov's men pushed her back and +raised his gun threateningly, whilst, as though in obedience to some +preconcerted signal, four more armed men came in from the hall. + +"Let him alone!" cried Lona Ivanovna. "I forbid you to touch him!" + +Ortiz did not seem to hear her; without changing his position, he +stood and studied Sergius Tassler's face, as though he were bent on +solving a problem. Wallion, who in his turn, watched Ortiz narrowly and +quietly, guessed what the problem was. + +"So it was you who brought Tarraschin's memorandum out of Russia?" said +the adventurer at length, thoughtfully. "What have you done with it?" + +"I shall not tell you," replied Sergius vehemently; "what have you to +do with us? We have a right...." + +"I want no unnecessary explanations. I know all about you. Will you +give me the paper of your own free will?" + +"Never!" + +"Then I shall take it." + +"Don't be so sure that you can find it!" + +"I have no need to search," replied Ortiz, raising his hand. "I don't +think much of your intelligence: you are not wanting in brains, but you +rely too much on yourself, and you lack imagination. You have hidden +the paper somewhere about you--not in your clothes--they are liable to +be searched, aren't they?--what else have you? Ah, give me your stick!" + +A strange expression passed over Wallion's face, as Sergius +mechanically held out his stick, and he could not restrain an audible +"bravo," at the ingenuity of Ortiz' reasoning. + +Ortiz turned round, with the stick in his hand: + +"I appreciate your compliment, but the thing was perfectly simple. One +could see from here that the handle of the stick unscrews. Meantime, +your 'bravo' betrays that the secret was known to you, which makes it +less likely that the paper is still in its hiding-place; indeed, it is +hardly worth while looking inside." + +He tossed the stick to the baron, who with nervous haste unscrewed the +handle, and peeped into the cavity. + +"Manifestly empty!" remarked Ortiz, coolly; "that was to be expected: +it was a poor hiding-place, and no doubt you discovered it at once, Mr. +Wallion?" + +"Of course." + +"You have it then?" + +Wallion hesitated for the fractional part of a second. + +"I can give you my word of honor that I have not removed the paper from +the stick," he said then. "Are you so sure that it is not there after +all?" + +Leonard, who could not understand the journalist's intention, bit +his lips; he was beginning to think that Wallion was altogether too +complaisant, but Raebel gave him a dig in the ribs, and whispered with +a smile: + +"Have you ever seen an acrobat on the top of a pole? He's nothing to +Wallion: just keep your eye on him. He's not the sort of man who comes +to grief at the first round!" + +Although the Austrian spoke lightly, the perspiration stood on his +forehead: experience told him that the situation was critical, and he +could see that Ortiz was getting to an end of his patience. He did not +trouble further about the stick. + +"Sergius Tassler," he said sharply, "if you wish to live you must +answer me. Did you have Tarraschin's memorandum in your stick?" + +Sergius started back a little, but made no reply; his dark, resigned +face did not change, and he looked calmly at his tormentor. + +"Answer him, for Heaven's sake," sobbed Sonia; "answer, Sergius, I +won't have you die!" + +His face softened at her passionate appeal, and he said curtly: + +"I did hide the paper in my stick; I do not know who took it out; I +have nothing further to say." + +There was no mistaking his sincerity, and Ortiz showed no sign of +doubting his word. + +"You have said enough," he remarked, his eyes beginning to sparkle; +"you have said more than enough, but you are even more imprudent than I +thought: now I understand!" + +His eyes rested for an instant on the young girl, with a thoughtful +and not altogether unfriendly expression; then, with a shrug of the +shoulders, he dismissed her from his mind, and for the first time +turned his whole attention to Lona Ivanovna. + +"It must be you," he accused her. "You are intelligent and determined: +you said to yourself, 'It will be better for me to take the +responsibility, Sergius is too weak.' You watched over your son at +night, whilst he slept, didn't you? You need not answer: the thing is +obvious; you took the document secretly, that you might hide it more +securely. You felt yourself strong enough to bear the responsibility +alone. Very good. The entire responsibility is yours, since you will +have it so. Now you must answer me." + +Lona Ivanovna replied steadily and unhesitatingly: + +"Yes, I took it whilst Sergius was asleep. Only I know where it is to +be found now--and you cannot frighten me!" She laughed grimly: + +"I think I have baffled you this time. You may kill me, but you won't +find what you are looking for. Those brutes have ransacked the whole +house twice, and you may do it once again. You have no chance of +succeeding, and you may believe that I know what I am saying, when you +recollect that I have all my life been accustomed to play hide-and-seek +with the Tsar's secret police. Go your way, Gabriel Ortiz, you have +failed. An old woman has beaten you!" + +The adventurer showed no sign of discomposure; he allowed her biting +scorn to pass unobserved; not so her challenge. + +After a few minutes' calculation, he said, more to himself than to her: + +"There are only two or three places where you can have hidden it; but +why waste time in guessing? There is a much simpler way." + +As he said this, he showed his white, even teeth, not in a smile, but +rather in the fixed grin of a wild beast, while a grim look came over +his face, almost transforming its expression. He turned to the marines, +and gave the word of command: + +"Ready! The first to stir from his place will be shot." + +Half a dozen rifle-muzzles were pointed at the prisoners. + +"Rastakov, take your revolver and place it against Sergius Tassler's +forehead. I will count three--and at the word 'three,' you will fire." + +The six marines took careful aim, and nobody stirred, while Rastakov +crossed the room, and placed his heavy weapon against Sergius' right +temple. There was a breathless silence, for they all realized Ortiz' +intention. Marcus Tassler turned ashen-gray; without a sound he left +the room, and was not seen again. + +"I forbid anyone to stir a finger," Ortiz continued; "this business +is between you and me, Lona Ivanovna. I have your son--you have the +document: will you exchange?" + +A dead pause ensued. The old lady raised her hand slowly to her throat, +and gazed as though fascinated at Rastakov's forefinger, which was +touching the trigger. + +Sergius had closed his eyes. + +"Don't think of me, Mother," he said, softly; "think only of our cause." + +She opened her mouth, but no sound issued from her lips. + +"One!" + +Sonia sprang up, but Leo caught her in his arms, at a glance from the +journalist, who was now very pale. Lona Ivanovna remained stiff and +immovable. + +"Let me go!" cried the girl, hysterically. "Oh, +you--cowardly--wretches! If only I were a man!" + +She sank down, half fainting, but weeping as though her heart would +break. Wallion clenched his hands, but kept still; he seemed to be +waiting for something. + +"Two!" + +A glazed look came over Lona Ivanovna's eyes, and she stared at Ortiz +as though she had never seen him before; she seemed to look at him as +though from an immense distance, and to be straining every nerve to +control herself. She saw his pitiless eyes, his lips unclosing for the +third time ... she tore the workbag from her left arm, and threw it on +the table. + +"There!" she exclaimed. "Let Sergius go, you murderer! The paper is in +the bag." + +"In the bag!" + +The adventurer put out his hand, but drew it quickly back. + +"If you are lying, ..." he said threateningly. + +"I am not lying," she replied wearily. "I took the paper out of the +stick whilst Sergius was sleeping. I was certain that nobody would +look for it in a place that was so apparent to everyone. The paper is +very small, and in a tiny roll; it is lying amongst the lace-work.... +Forgive me, Sergius!" + +She sank down on a chair. Ortiz turned the bag upside down, and shook +out the work on the table. Wallion was carefully choosing a cigarette +from his case; he smiled: the matter was taking the turn for which he +had hoped from the beginning, and Ortiz had already wasted nearly two +precious hours; his own opportunity was come at last. + +"Well, Gabriel Ortiz," said he, in a nonchalant tone, "is the +memorandum there?" + +The adventurer had searched all through the contents of the workbag; he +now pushed it aside, and began to examine the folds of the lace with +nervous eagerness. + +"You won't find anything there," the journalist proceeded; "Lona +Ivanovna made a mistake. The paper is not in her workbag: _I_ have it!" + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + _Wallion speaks out and Rastakov is balked of his prey_ + + +The journalist's utterly unforeseen announcement electrified everyone, +and all faces were turned towards him, with intense surprise. That +Maurice Wallion could have obtained possession of Tarraschin's +memorandum, had occurred to none of them, least of all to Lona Ivanovna. + +"You, you!" she stammered. "How is it possible?" + +Ortiz' cold, hard voice broke in: + +"Are you trying to shield her son? She is lying, the bag is empty--I do +not believe you." + +"Allow me to explain the situation," said the journalist, who still +held in his left hand the cigarette which he had taken from his case, +and, in his right the cigar-lighter, whose little flame burned clearly +and evenly; his hands were perfectly steady. + +"The paper really was in Lona Ivanovna's bag--until the time when, +after hearing the story of the Bernin family, I demonstrated to them +that the stick was empty, to Sergius Tassler's great astonishment. +Following your example, Ortiz, I concluded that his mother, wishing +to shift the responsibility on to her own shoulders, had secretly +removed the paper, but, unlike you, I went a step further, and +assumed, from what I knew of her character, that she had hidden +it in her workbag, that well-known receptacle which everybody was +accustomed to see hanging on her arm. I fully anticipated that you, +my dear Ortiz, would proceed to the sort of compulsion we have just +witnessed, and what would have been the good of her stratagem then? +I at once decided to remove the precious document to its third, +best, and final hiding-place. Under the pretext of examining Andrei +Bernin's room, I was left alone with Lona Ivanovna for a few minutes, +and--'hey presto!'--Russia's fate lay snugly in my waistcoat pocket. +That is the story. You may conscientiously leave mother and son in +peace, my dear Ortiz; the thief--that thief who caused the baron such +heart-searchings--is none other than myself!" + +"Damnation!" ejaculated Ortiz, his eyes bloodshot and staring; "shall I +ever get hold of that infernal paper?" + +"The outlook doesn't seem very promising," agreed the journalist, +smiling. "It has passed through various hands in the last day or two, +and its present owner--well, I have a pretty good idea that he will not +let it out of his possession!" + +His unshaken audacity took Ortiz aback: he hesitated for a minute, and +the journalist availed himself of the pause. + +"Let us talk things over," said he. "If anyone attempts to come near +me, or to threaten me with his gun, I swear that you will never have +the document." + +"Where have you got it?" asked the adventurer reluctantly. + +"Ah, where!" laughed Wallion. "One of your men searched me just now, +didn't he? Did he find it? No. And yet I can assure you that he saw it. +I believe he even touched it! You see this tiny flame, and this little +cigarette? The moment I light my cigarette, your dreams for the future +will vanish in smoke, Ortiz." + +"You would pay dearly for it!" + +"_You_ would, you mean. A far too expensive cigarette, and that's a +fact! Now, then, stand still, all the lot of you. Ortiz, keep them +quiet. It wouldn't take me a second, and my death wouldn't be much of a +compensation for your loss." + +"I do not believe that Tarraschin's memorandum could be compressed into +so small a space," Ortiz objected incredulously. + +"Don't you?" returned the journalist. "Didn't Lona Ivanovna say that +the paper was quite small, and tightly-rolled up? The idea struck me +when I removed it from her bag, and just before you came, I made this +arrangement, on the chance of my things being searched. You don't +believe me? Look here, then." + +He squeezed the little cylinder between his fingers, so that the +cigarette paper burst, and fluttered to the ground, whilst a thin layer +of tobacco fell from the ends; there remained in his hand a tightly +rolled sheet of white paper, which began to uncurl as though a spring +had been released. Ortiz leaned forward. + +"No, keep back!" said the journalist. "You observe that the flame is +all but touching the paper now. You can see perfectly well where you +are--do you recognize Prince Tarraschin's handwriting? Shall I tell you +that it is written in French? Shall I read it out to you?" + +"You are mad!" muttered Ortiz hoarsely. "What can you do? If you leave +this room, you will be shot." + +"Yes, from behind, I suspect. But I prefer to stop here, I have +something to say to you...." + +"If you stay here with that paper in your hands, you will be shot. You +have never been in greater danger than you are now." + +"I'm not so sure of that! Have you really the moral courage to watch +Tarraschin's document burn? Make up your mind, I am waiting." + +Ortiz watched the journalist's movements like a lynx, but Wallion had +gauged him correctly: he could not bring himself to run the risk, +however willingly he would have given the order to shoot the man who +was daring to thwart him on the very threshold of success. He gave a +reluctant signal, and the weapons were lowered. + +"Speak out!" he said, "what do you want?" + +Wallion stepped back a few paces. His bold "coup" had made him master +of the situation for the time being, but the outlook was dangerous +in the extreme. He must keep an eye on practically all his enemies +at once: should but one of them succeed in raising his gun, he would +be lost; he was a prisoner, and compelled to plan his escape as best +he could, alone and unarmed, under the eyes of his captors. Speed +was all-important; never had he felt his mind clearer or cooler than +now, as he reviewed every possibility. He knew that Sergius Tassler +had a revolver within reach, hidden presumably among the rugs of his +armchair: and he remembered that Max Raebel only awaited a signal to +come to his assistance: on these two facts, his entire scheme must be +built up. + +"Order Rastakov to stand back," he said briefly; "Sergius Tassler has +nothing more to do with this case." + +The Russian had remained standing near Sergius, but at a nod from his +employer, he thrust his revolver back into his pocket, and returned to +his place by the door. As he did so, Wallion exchanged a rapid glance +with the Austrian. He saw Raebel's intelligent eyes widen inquiringly, +and he nodded almost imperceptibly. The Austrian understood the signal, +and would now be ready to play his part; Wallion relied implicitly upon +his experience and ready wit. The important thing now, was to engross +Ortiz' whole attention for the next few minutes, and the journalist +began again with a laugh: + +"Yes, I have something to say to you, Ortiz; this is a good +opportunity, for I am afraid we shall not meet again after to-night. +You intend to kill me, if you can; I intend to render you harmless, if +I can: the situation is not without its piquancy." + +Ortiz had pulled out his handkerchief, and was drying his hands +nervously: there was little of the Great Napoleon about his strained +features at this moment. + +"You talk too much," he said hoarsely; "get to business." + +"By all means. Your line has run out, my dear Ortiz. There was a time +when I admired you, in spite of my position as your natural enemy. Your +former adventures attracted me by a sort of simple and great-hearted +freshness which characterized them, but the gigantic plan which is now +dragging you to the verge of a precipice, is marked by an arrogance +which the gods might envy. I can no longer admire a man who allows +murder and robbery to be the milestones on his road to success; you +should have kept your hands clean, Ortiz: there is too much blood on +them! All the millions which you have distributed so lavishly, cannot +alter the fact that you are a murderer, at war with Society, and, +there, self-condemned." + +The adventurer glared angrily at him, and exclaimed: + +"I do not expect you to understand me! You and I stand at opposite ends +of the great, unimpressionable fabric of Society; how could you enter +into my plans and my dreams?" + +The journalist did not reply immediately. He had seen Max Raebel move a +shade closer to Sergius Tassler, and exchange two or three words with +him, and a suppressed excitement began to rise in him, as he continued: + +"Is your plan so difficult to fathom? You forget that I have read +Tarraschin's memorandum, that I know what has become of your millions, +and that I am well aware of the snare of specious promises in which you +have entangled your dupes. You are not so strong as you imagine; you +have worked to overthrow one party, and to support the other, so that +you might use the gratitude of the successful one as a stepping-stone +to power. But the Russian Revolution in March was none of your doing: +you made a start in the opposite direction, and threw in your lot with +the reactionaries, whose prospects seemed the more favorable. You made +a mistake there: Kerensky still sits firmly in the saddle, and Prince +Tarraschin's promises will never be fulfilled, for however strong your +followers may be, they will never restore the Tsar to power." + +He spoke slowly and impressively, and his words were now addressed to +the silent group by the door, rather than to their leader. He noticed a +strange expression in Rastakov's black eyes. + +Perhaps Ortiz saw it too, for he exclaimed furiously: + +"Silence! You lie!" + +"Shall I give you a summary of Tarraschin's written promises?" returned +Wallion, calmly, and, as Ortiz did not answer, he continued: + +"To be called 'Emperor of the Amazons' was, after all, a barren honor; +but as Governor-General of Siberia, you would rule over one of the +largest countries in the world. Can you deny that Prince Tarraschin +promised that post to you, on behalf of his party?" + +A murmur went round the room, and Rastakov's face wore a threatening +look, as he took in the full meaning of Wallion's information. Ortiz +fathomed his enemy's intention, and grew pale; it almost seemed that +his iron will was shaken, but he controlled himself with a tremendous +effort, and said: + +"You have read it yourself, and hold the proof of it in your hand. I +have never hesitated, and I do not hesitate now; but if you imagine +that my fate depends on a paper, you deceive yourself. I have many +strings to my bow. Governor-General of Siberia?--let that pass, as +you have said it, but it would only be a beginning: the whirlpool is +deep, I can subdue it." He raised his voice, and turned to the silent +audience round the door. + +"Have I not proved to you that I keep my promises? Has your future ever +looked so bright as it does now? I tell you, I can give you all that +your wildest dreams can picture. Power or riches, you have only to +choose; I have them both at my command." + +He chose his words cleverly, on the spur of the moment, and Wallion +realized that it was not only his millions that had attracted scores +of adherents to his cause. His personal strength fascinated them, and +his convincing arguments overruled their judgment. But the journalist +had no intention of allowing him time to vindicate himself. He gathered +that Max Raebel had by this time succeeded in conveying some sort of +brief, but evidently reinspiring intimation to Leonard Grath, Sonia, +and Lona Ivanovna in turn, for their faces had brightened with an +expression of eager anticipation. A moment later, seeing that Ortiz' +attention was temporarily diverted, the Austrian looked significantly +from Wallion to the two lamps. The journalist understood his meaning, +and nodded: it was nearly time! + +"Do not promise more than you can perform, Ortiz!" he exclaimed. "What +about those earlier promises of yours? Did you not assure Rastakov and +his people that the Bolshevists are your friends? You, the organizer of +the Reactionary Party in Russia?--for shame, what duplicity! What about +these last Bolshevist uprisings in Petrograd? Were they your work?" + +The vehemence of Wallion's attack struck Ortiz dumb. + +"I ... I am not obliged to answer," he said after a pause; "you are not +my judge!" + +"But you would like to be mine, wouldn't you? Perhaps you would rather +I burned the document?" + +The paper hovered nearer the little blue flame, and Ortiz exclaimed: + +"Name your own price!" + +It was a sign of weakening: he was ready to buy what he could not take +by force. + +Wallion laughed, feigning intense surprise: + +"Is this little flame so valuable? You would see it extinguished at any +price?" + +"I will give you ten millions if you will blow it out," sad the +adventurer. "And your liberty...." + +"A fantastic offer!" said Wallion, his eyes glittering. "Does the +future Governor of Siberia propose it?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I decline it. You are a beaten man, Ortiz. Kerensky's government +has suppressed the Bolshevist risings in Petrograd, and remains in +power till further notice. A reactionary rising would be even less +successful...." + +Hardly had the journalist completed his sentence, when a dramatic +interruption occurred. + +Rastakov sprang forward. All the savagery in his primitive nature had +risen to the surface, his face was convulsed, and his voice like the +snarl of some wild beast: + +"Is it true that the Bolshevists are beaten?" he cried. + +"Yes; did you not know it?" answered Wallion. + +"No! I thought ... Ortiz, you have played us false! Remember what you +promised!" + +Ortiz struck him full in the face. + +"How dare you, Rastakov!" he exclaimed harshly. "I have not paid you to +insult me." + +The blow left a red mark on Rastakov's white face. He staggered back, +his hands clutching the air; his eyes looked like those of a blind man. + +"Traitor!" he yelled. + +Slipping his right hand into his pocket, he raised it high over his +head, grasping a round, black object, which he was about to fling at +Ortiz, when the baron, throwing his whole weight upon him, wrenched the +deadly thing away, and dashed it through the nearest window, far out +into the park. + +The whole house was shaken by a terrific explosion, a column of earth +and flame rose high into the air, for a minute, and the atmospheric +pressure drove in the window-panes with a clatter of breaking glass. + +Before the last splinters had fallen on the carpet, Ortiz drew a +revolver from his pocket, and, apparently without even taking aim, shot +Rastakov through the head. The unfortunate Russian fell where he stood, +and did not move again. + +Rastakov was balked of his prey, and had paid for his mistake with his +life. + +The sudden tragedy paralyzed them all. Ortiz stared down at the dead +body. + +"One more!" he muttered; "one more!" + +At that minute, the journalist made an alarming discovery; the +draught from the broken window had blown out the little flame in the +cigar-lighter. There was not an instant to lose! + +"Now, Raebel!" he cried, and crouched down as quick as lightning. The +Austrian thrust his hand among the rugs on Sergius Tassler's armchair, +and pulled out a bright steel "Browning," which he aimed at the lamps. +Two shots rang out, and the lamps fell crashing to the floor. + +The room was plunged in darkness. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + _In which Wallion shows that a great deal can be done in ten + minutes_ + + +It seemed as though a black velvet pall had been dropped over them. The +sudden transition from brilliant light to impenetrable darkness, was +almost physically painful, and ten or fifteen seconds passed before +anyone attempted to stir; each man was listening with bated breath for +his enemy's movements. A flash pierced the darkness: Ortiz had fired +at the journalist, or rather, at the spot where he had last seen him +standing. An infernal hubbub broke out: someone turned on an electric +torch, which was immediately shattered by a shot; a dozen rifles rang +out simultaneously, furniture fell to the ground, and panes of glass +jingled. + +"Get lights!" cried Ortiz, imperiously; "let no one escape: stand by +the windows and doors!" + +The journalist had carefully placed Tarraschin's memorandum in his +pocket-book, and was now ready to avail himself of the opportunity; he +moved noiselessly forward, and suddenly threw himself into the tumult +round the door. Striking out to right and left, his broad shoulders +soon cleared him a passage. A last shot was fired almost under his +chin, and he found himself out in the hall--free! + +There was no time to lose. The hall was dark, but the tramp of feet +warned him that at least half a score of men were making their way +through the glass doors. That way was obviously impossible. Towards +the kitchen regions, a faint light could be seen through the half-open +door: that exit was blocked too; to reach the upper floor by the +staircase, was his only chance. He hastened in that direction, +blessing the thick carpet, which deadened his footsteps, and took the +twenty-five stairs in four bounds. As he gained the topmost stair, he +dropped down on the landing like a cat, and held his breath: he had +heard someone breathing close by. But in a moment he uttered a sigh of +relief, as a familiar voice said softly: + +"It is I, Max Raebel. I know your step again, Wallion; this way!" + +He discerned a shadowy form, and a hand grasped his. + +"I think we may congratulate ourselves that we have won the first +round," added the Austrian. + +"What about the others?" + +"Oh, I told Sergius Tassler and Grath to see to the ladies; I advised +them to offer no resistance, but if possible to take refuge in the +gardener's cottage. Ortiz will concentrate his attention on us." + +"It looks like it," Wallion agreed. + +The hall beneath them was filled with light. Fresh lamps had been +brought in and lighted, but a strange condition of uncertainty seemed +to prevail, and two or three voices were clamoring for Rastakov. Baron +Fayerling hurried forward, and the six marines marched across the +hall towards the stairs, with Ortiz behind them. At sight of him, the +threatening murmurs died away, and with a few decided orders the baron +quelled the disturbance. + +"The harmony seems slightly defective!" whispered the Austrian, "but it +will soon be too hot for us here; which way shall we go?" + +"To the winding-staircase on the back landing," replied Wallion +promptly. They crossed the passage, and he opened the door leading to +the backstairs, but immediately retreated, and bolted it hastily; he +had almost run into the arms of three of the forest-guards, who were +evidently on the look-out for him, and now began to batter on the door. + +"The deuce!" he murmured, "this is what one may call quick work! Back +again!" + +They ran back to the main staircase, which was now their only chance, +if they were not to be caught on that floor. + +"Are you armed?" asked Raebel. + +"No, are you?" + +"Yes, I have Sergius Tassler's revolver, but only four cartridges left." + +Ortiz' bodyguard had nearly reached the top, when the two detectives +appeared on the landing. A shout greeted them, but before anyone could +shoot, the fugitives had gained the second floor, where Raebel turned +and fired a shot down the stairs. + +"That'll just give them something to think about," he explained; "I am +generous, as long as I have anything to give away." + +"That leaves you with only three shots, doesn't it?" said Wallion. +"Wait, that is not enough; I must get hold of something for myself +also." + +They heard someone running up, and the journalist stood a little to one +side. One of the marines, more quick-footed than the rest, appeared at +the top of the stairs. Wallion sprang silently upon him, seized him by +the back of the neck, swung him round, wrested the carbine from the +hands of the surprised and bewildered man, and, with a violent push, +sent him reeling backwards down the stairs. The living projectile +evidently landed in the very midst of his advancing comrades, and +a chorus of shouts and execrations followed. Wallion examined the +carbine, which was loaded with five rounds of ammunition. + +"Come along," said he, "we can't stop here." + +They mounted the third flight, which was narrower, and led straight to +the attics, and they looked round them in the darkness. Every corner +was filled with dusty boxes, worn-out furniture, and a medley of +nondescript objects; on the far side, they made out a ladder, set up +against the ceiling, beneath a bolted trapdoor. Wallion struck a match, +and looked at his watch: it was half-past nine. Their pursuers came on +noisily, though rather out of breath. Raebel seized an old high-backed +oak armchair, swung it up over his head, and hurled it with a crash +down the attic-stairs. A shot answered the challenge, and a bullet +whistled past the Austrian's right ear, as he stepped back swearing +softly: + +"There's no stopping them," he grumbled; "a machine-gun is what we +want!" + +The journalist was already at the top of the ladder, and pushing up the +creaking trapdoor. The Austrian followed him, and they both crawled out +upon the sloping copper roof. The night air blew cool and refreshing on +their heated faces, and Wallion let the heavy trapdoor fall back into +its place. + +"Shall we stop here," asked Raebel eagerly. "We could give them a warm +reception from this position." + +Wallion considered. + +"No," he said; "we have too little ammunition, and besides, there are +several attic windows from which they might fire on us." + +"But where in the world can we go?" exclaimed the flabbergasted Raebel. +"It seems to me, we have come as far as we can without flying!" + +"Follow me: I have an idea." + +The journalist turned, and began to creep along the roof, which was wet +and slippery. The rain had ceased, and the thunder no longer rumbled, +but the sky was still overcast, and the darkness denser than ever. +Raebel was no coward, but he was beginning to find the situation far +from pleasant, and muttered wrathfully to himself. + +"Be careful here," the journalist's voice warned him; "it's a curb +roof, as you know, and slopes abruptly." + +"Where are you going?" asked Raebel. + +"I am crawling down to the eaves," explained Wallion, his voice seeming +to come unexpectedly from beneath the Austrian's feet. He followed his +companion's example, slid dizzily down, and fortunately brought up, +feet foremost, at the eaves. There, to his indescribable horror, he +heard an extraordinary creaking and crashing, out in the empty space +beyond the edge of the roof. + +"Where are you, Wallion?" he faltered. + +"Here," replied a calm voice. "Don't you remember the old oak tree +behind the house? Spring right out from where you are now, and you will +find it is almost like jumping on to a mattress." + +"Gracious Heaven!" thought the Austrian, shutting his eyes, and without +waiting for any miracle from above, he took the leap, just as two +carbines were fired through the trapdoor. + +It seemed an age before he fell into a network of yielding branches. +Wallion's hand grasped him, and he found himself sitting astride a +good-sized bough. + +"A bird couldn't have done it better," whispered his friend. "This is a +funny life, but at any rate, we are making them dance to our tune!" + +"And where next?" inquired Raebel faintly. + +"Down to terra firma again, of course!" + +They climbed down, and reached the ground breathless, but unhurt. A +loud shout was heard on the roof, and a shot was fired in reply from +the terrace. + +"We must get right away from the house!" cried Wallion; "there's just +one chance in ten that we may find the coast clear." + +They ran helter-skelter through the nearest bushes, and came out on the +open space in front of the stable and cowhouse. But they had not gone +ten steps, before lights began to twinkle on all sides, and they saw +dark figures hurrying to intercept them. + +"No," said Raebel, "not one chance in a thousand. It is not within +human power to shake them off: they are worse than teazles!" + +Both men felt that they were not up to a long chase, exhausted as they +were after their efforts, and they instinctively steered their course +towards the stable, rushed in, and fastened the massive bolt. Here +they would at least gain a moment's respite, though they could hear +the steps of their pursuers outside, surrounding the building. They +breathed more easily, and looked at each other by the light of a match. + +"Listen," said Wallion slowly. "If help doesn't come soon, we shall +both be done for; we have seen too much, and Tarraschin's memorandum is +in my pocket-book. The document is all-important. If either of us can +save it, well and good: but if the worst happens, it must be destroyed. +Agreed?" + +"Agreed!" replied Raebel, seriously. + +They shook hands. A bullet crashed through the door. The match went +out, but Wallion struck another. The two horses in the stalls turned +their heads uneasily, and blinked at them with great, solemn eyes. They +passed through the stable, climbed into the hay-loft, and pulled the +ladder up after them. A minute later, the stable door was burst open by +a powerful blow from a huge piece of timber, and the place was invaded +by a swarm of dark figures. Wallion and Raebel fired simultaneously, +and a cry betrayed that someone had been hit; the besiegers drew back a +little, and there was a pause which lasted for several minutes. + +"That was too risky for them," whispered the Austrian; "they are +evidently meditating something else, but what?" + +The silence made him uneasy. + +"I don't like this," he murmured. "Why haven't they returned?" + +Wallion said nothing. They could hear steps outside, voices, strange +noises of different kinds. A shout was heard in the distance. Suddenly +a heavy body fell upon the tiled roof, which was splintered by the +blow, something fell with a thud into the hay, and lay hissing close to +them. Wallion sprang up. + +"Fire!" he shouted. + +A violent explosion flung him against the wall, and a tongue of flame +shot up through the hole in the roof. The hay had caught fire, and was +beginning to burn with a dark, smoky blaze, which spread rapidly, +filling the loft with light, and making it intensely hot. In their +first bewilderment, Wallion and Raebel stood irresolute. + +"The swine!" exclaimed the Austrian indignantly. "The treacherous +brutes!" + +He would have tried to drop the ladder again through the trapdoor, +but a bale of burning hay fell into the aperture and blocked it. He +staggered back, shielding his face with his hands. + +"Shut in!" he said bitterly; "trapped like rats!" + +They retreated before the fire to the other end of the loft, where +there was still one portion which the flames had not reached, since +there was no hay in that half of the building. The journalist looked at +his watch, and the Austrian, irritated at the meaningless precision of +the action, exclaimed: + +"That's right, I suppose you are going to make a note of the exact +instant of our death!" + +"It is just ten o'clock," replied Wallion deliberately. Over their +heads, the tiles on the roof were cracking from the heat, with a noise +like the rattle of rifle-practice; the fire was speedily consuming the +woodwork, the roof-joists were burning, and the floor itself began to +give way. + +They heard the terrified horses break loose, and gallop away, neighing +wildly. The two men were now the only living creatures left in the +burning stable. + +Then the journalist went up to the great double trap-doors, which were +only opened to hoist up the bales of hay, and, as though to get air, +he unbarred them and threw them wide open. A loud shout greeted his +appearance, as his tall figure was unexpectedly outlined against the +glare of the fire. He looked down into the darkness, and became aware +of a crowd of upturned faces, and gleaming rifle-barrels. + +"Is Ortiz there?" he called out. + +The adventurer stepped slowly to the front, his hands behind his back +in his favorite attitude. + +"What do you want?" he asked. "Have you made up your mind to surrender?" + +"No, I only want to remind you that I still have the Tarraschin +memorandum, and it will not be much to your advantage to burn me alive." + +"What do you expect me to do, then? I should be no better off if I shot +you on the spot. The decision lies with you: give me the paper, and you +are free." + +The journalist seemed scarcely to hear him. A look of intense +excitement had come into his eyes, which were fixed on the wooded ridge +near the house, and a sigh of relief burst from him as he saw a white +light flash out once. + +"No, my dear Ortiz, I am not going to give you the document, but, on +the contrary, this!" he cried, and raising his carbine he fired three +successive shots into the darkness. Ortiz sprang back. + +"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. + +A rocket shot up from the bay, and burst in ten thousand stars. +Frantic whistles were heard from the Copper House, together with an +extraordinary medley of voices, knockings, shots and running feet. + +"Go and see what is happening!" ordered Ortiz. + +"Do not trouble, for I can tell you," said Wallion. "It is what I have +been waiting for the whole of this long evening; it is my lieutenant, +Robert Lang, who has come with the police." + +Ortiz did not stir, but his very soul seemed to look out of his eyes, +as he fixed them on his enemy. + +"Were you clever enough for that after all?" said he. "I could not have +believed it. I admit that I have underrated your powers. I suppose you +think you have trapped me now?" + +"That I cannot say: but I do know one thing, Ortiz: this is the end of +your glorious dream!" + +The adventurer seized a rifle, and fired at the black silhouette of the +man who had outwitted him. + +"You shall not survive it!" he shouted. "Farewell, Wallion!" + +The journalist staggered back, and fell on to the floor. A loud voice +was calling from some way off: + +"The police! Where is the Chief? The police are here!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + _The end of a glorious dream_ + + +The stampede began. Two minutes after the alarm had been given, +not a man was left near the stable, which was now burning on every +side, casting a vivid radiance over its immediate neighborhood. +It struck them later as extraordinary that the gang had retreated +without a single attempt at resistance. The last shot was that fired +by Ortiz himself, and aimed at his bitterest foe--Maurice Wallion. +From that hour, nobody set eyes upon the reincarnated Napoleon; it +is to be supposed that, like his great prototype after the defeat +at Waterloo, he apathetically allowed himself to be hurried away by +his panic-stricken followers. He was hopelessly beaten, he had lost +everything, and he must have realized this: he chose to vanish into the +night.... + +Wallion had not been hit. Together with Raebel he jumped down from the +granary, the floor of which collapsed a minute later. + +"That's what one may call a rescue at the eleventh hour!" exclaimed the +Austrian. "But what puzzles me is how did help come, when we had been +unable to send a word of our plight?" + +"I was prepared for the worst this morning," answered Wallion; "Robert +Lang had orders to come to our relief on the stroke of ten, if he had +heard nothing from me by then. The reason why I was so anxious to send +him a message, is very simple: the submarine, of course, necessitated +special measures, and I am afraid that Lang has omitted to take them." + +This simple explanation made the Austrian open his eyes; he gave a +prolonged whistle of admiration, and said: + +"Wallion, you're an out-and-outer!" + +Policemen, in plain clothes and in uniform, now began to spread round +the Copper House in a wide semi-circle, and they went to meet them. +Robert Lang was at the head, with several police officers of higher +grade. + +"Hallo, Lang!" cried Wallion. "You are punctual, thank goodness, but +tell me quickly, how things stand as regards the channel into the bay?" + +The young man stood still. + +"The channel into the bay?" he echoed. + +"Yes. Have you a patrol-boat outside?" + +"No. Is that necessary?" + +Raebel threw up his hands at this question, and exclaimed: + +"Then Ortiz will get away!" + +Wallion briefly explained the situation. The news of the submarine +created a sensation, and one of the policemen hurried off to alarm the +coast guard. After an instant's hesitation, the main body of police +resumed their march to the sea-shore. Not a light was to be seen in +the bay, but suddenly the noise of an engine was heard through the +damp, still atmosphere, and a strange, dark mass became visible in the +channel between the island and the shore. It was the submarine, towing +the lighter after it. The deck of the latter was crowded with men; a +gloomy silence reigned on board, and the ports of the submarine were +closed. + +Lona Ivanovna came running, followed by Sergius, Sonia and Leo. The +last-named wrung the journalist's hand, in silent gratitude, but the +old Russian exclaimed: + +"What are you doing, Mr. Wallion? You're not allowing Ortiz to escape!" + +The journalist replied, thoughtfully: + +"He can't escape from himself." + +She did not understand him. + +"And Tarraschin's memorandum?" she asked. + +"We'll talk of that by and by. I have it quite safe." + +On board the lighter, the clanking of machinery became audible, and the +tow-line was cast loose. The submarine shot away, and steered for the +open sea, leaving a white trail of foam in its wake. The spectators +began to run along the beach, and came out on the little promontory. +On land, the police had completed their "round-up," which yielded a +harvest of fourteen abandoned, dejected individuals, all captured +unarmed, and asserting their innocence. But it looked as though their +Chief was to get away in spite of everything. Wallion stood on the +furthest point, looking out to sea. + +"Fog!" he remarked, laconically. + +A dense, gray wall was rising out of the Baltic, and driving in towards +the land. The submarine continued to steer east at full speed, leaving +the lighter to shift for itself; both entered the fog-belt, and +disappeared. + +Robert Lang reproached himself bitterly for his remissness, but Wallion +said: + +"You couldn't have known it, and besides, what matter if he slips +through our fingers for the time being? He has nothing left to hope +for...." + +He spoke in a low tone, and without shifting his gaze from the sea. Was +he waiting for something? + +Ten minutes passed. Then the sea of fog was tinged with a sudden +crimson glow, which seemed to come from a point due east of the +outlying islands. A deafening and prolonged explosion rent the air; +then darkness settled down again, and silence reigned once more over +the sea. They looked at one another. + +"A mine-explosion?" suggested someone. + +"The submarine!" cried Robert Lang. "It came from that direction. A +catastrophe must have occurred on board." + +"Or--something else!" said Wallion. "Ortiz went on board as a defeated +man:--and Rastakov's comrades...." + +He bent his head and turned away. + +"It is late. Let us go." + + * * * * * + +Two days later, quite a little company was assembled in Lawyer +Burchardt's office. There were Leonard Grath, Lona Ivanovna, Sonia and +Sergius. The lawyer trotted up and down his sunny room, and looked +incessantly at the clock. All faces were cheerful and free from +anxiety, but a certain solemnity pervaded the atmosphere, and nobody +seemed inclined to talk. Twelve o'clock struck, and the lawyer stopped +his pacing, and looked expectantly at the door. + +It opened, and admitted Maurice Wallion in travelling costume. + +"Good morning," he said, with a smile. "I have to go abroad this +afternoon, so you must excuse me if I seem a little hurried." + +He shook hands with everybody, and gave Leo a small packet, saying as +he did so: + +"Take back your property; it is an atonement from a man who is +sincerely repentant." + +The young man opened the parcel, and colored with astonishment. + +"The mortgages on the Copper House!" he exclaimed. + +"Yes," answered the journalist, smiling. "Take them, you deserve a +reward after all you have gone through, but ask no questions." + +He turned to Lona Ivanovna. + +"I have a message for you. You know that Marcus Tassler quitted the +Copper House when Ortiz threatened your son's life. From that minute, +he became another man, and fled from Ortiz' neighborhood, never to +return. He wishes me to tell you that he regrets the past, and that you +will never see him again." + +The old Russian lady appeared deeply moved. + +"Did you go and look for him?" + +"Yes, I have had a talk with him." + +"And--you let him go?" + +"Yes, he is broken and changed. We must be merciful...." + +The old lady bowed. + +"I thank you," she said simply. + +"I have another very important piece of news for you," Wallion +continued. "Raebel and I, with the help of certain interested persons +in various quarters, have settled the question of Tarraschin's +memorandum, which is now in the hands of its rightful owner. Yes, +Sergius Tassler, you must forgive me, but you know you had really +no right to it at all! You shall not be a loser in the matter. I am +authorized to inform the Bernin family that they are at liberty to +return to Russia." + +He smilingly deprecated their delighted expressions of gratitude, and +continued: + +"This brings the whole matter to a definite conclusion. Gabriel Ortiz' +gigantic 'coup' has failed, and he himself has vanished without leaving +any trace. I suppose you have seen the notices in the newspapers +about the mysterious mine-explosion? That's the end of a many-sided +adventure. By special request from an influential quarter, no official +report will be published. The fourteen men who were arrested will be +deported. Whatever the future holds, my friends, none of you will ever +hear anything more of Gabriel Ortiz." + +He was silent for a little. + +"He was a man, after all!" he added, but he saw that none of them quite +understood him. Sonia had clasped Sergius' hand, and regardless of them +all, was pressing it to her cheek. Wallion bowed gallantly to her. + +"I wish you a happier and brighter future," he said, smiling; "you are +worthy of it!" + +With these words, he left the room, and they looked after him with a +pang of regret in the midst of their happiness, for they felt that they +were losing a friend, and that his path might never again cross their +own. + + * * * * * + +A letter from Maurice Wallion to the Author, dated Montreal, July 20th, +1918. + + "My dear Author, + + "I suppose it must be! Tell what happened at the Copper House in + your own way: of course, there will be more fiction than fact, but + that can't be helped! + + "You can say that I was mistaken as I have never been mistaken + before (except in the case of Madame Lorette Chandeloup, whose + story I will tell you some day). I believed that Gabriel Otiz + could be conquered, and I was wrong. The man died unconquered. I + salute his memory: I could have wished to be his friend. + + "Don't forget to lay stress upon one thing: that two important + points in this mad adventure have never been cleared up. First, + what became of all that was left of Ortiz' millions? They + disappeared, as though by magic, from the banks, between the 10th + and 20th of July, 1917. The Whirlpool engulfed them. I know that + Marcus Tassler did not embezzle them, and it is a mystery to me + what became of them. + + "The second point is: is Gabriel Ortiz really dead? What actually + happened that night out in the Baltic? That red glare haunts me! + + "You know that Russia is still suffering. Kerensky's fall soon + succeeded that of Ortiz: neither of them was strong enough to + steer the drifting ship, which still awaits its master-pilot. + Bolsheviks, Czecho-Slovaks, monarchists, and foreign powers are + injuring themselves without gaining one atom of honor or happiness + in exchange for all the blood they are shedding. Is Ortiz still + behind the scenes? Has he risen from his grave to play the 'grand + jeu'? I cannot tell. You may say: after all, he was only a grain of + dust in the whirlpool. Possibly. Has not a grain of dust been able + to change the course of the world before now? + + "It is just a year to-day since I fought him at the Copper House + for Tarraschin's memorandum. Somehow I feel that I shall see him + again: I would stake my life on it! + + "Good-bye, and, perhaps, 'au revoir'! + + "In haste, between two adventures, + "Yours very sincerely, + "MAURICE WALLION." + + + THE END + + + * * * * * + + _NEW FICTION_ + + + ANNETTE ET SYLVIE + + _by Romain Rolland_ + + + JEAN HUGUENOT + + _by Stephen Vincent Benét_ + + + DIFFERENT GODS + + _by Violet Quirk_ + + + QUEST + + _by Rosita Forbes_ + + * * * * * + + [Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation left as printed.] + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76903 *** diff --git a/76903-h/76903-h.htm b/76903-h/76903-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..62801d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/76903-h/76903-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8583 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Copper House | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; 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+ font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; + margin-top: 3em; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 4px; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph1 { font-size: x-large; margin: .83em auto; } + +.ph2 { text-align: right; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } + +.ph3 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph3 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76903 ***</div> + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>THE COPPER HOUSE</h1> + +<p><i>A Detective Story</i></p> + +<p class="ph1">BY JULIUS REGIS</p> + +<p>AUTHOR OF "NO. 13 TORONI"</p> + +<p>NEW YORK<br> +HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY<br> +1923</p> + +<p>Copyright, 1923,<br> +By<br> +HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY<br> +<i>First Printing, September, 1923</i></p> + +<p>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> + + +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table> + +<tr><td class="tdr"></td> <td class="tdc"><a href="#Part_I-The_Whirlpool">Part I-The Whirlpool</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"></td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#PROLOGUE">PROLOGUE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">BARON FREDERICK FAYERLING WAITS IN VAIN FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT +DOCUMENT IN EUROPE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">A YOUNG MAN ARRIVES FROM CALIFORNIA, AND HEARS SOME UNEXPECTED NEWS</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">WALLION MEETS B. 22, AND CERTAIN REMARKABLE EPISODES IN A GREAT +MAN'S CAREER ARE DESCRIBED WITH THE DESIRED EFFECT</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">LEONARD GRATH ACTS ON HIS OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND MEETS WITH A GIRL +WHO RUNS AWAY FROM HIM</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">IN WHICH IT IS OBVIOUS THAT THE OWNER IS A GUEST IN HIS OWN HOUSE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">THE PROBLEM-HUNTER</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">THE SLAYERS</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"></td> <td class="tdc"></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"></td> <td class="tdc"><a href="#Part_II-The_Twentieth_of_July">Part II-The Twentieth of July</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">LONA IVANOVNA ASKS HER FIRST QUESTION</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">IX.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">UNREST IN BOTH CAMPS; AN OUTPOST SKIRMISH AND A WARNING</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">X.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">THE SITUATION BECOMES ACUTE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XI.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">MAURICE WALLION LOOKS ABOUT HIM A BIT AND MAKES A NEW ACQUAINTANCE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">IN WHICH WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF THE SHADOW OF NAPOLEON THE GREAT</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XIII.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">LONA IVANOVNA ASKS A SECOND QUESTION AND GETS AN UNEXPECTED REPLY</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XIV.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">THE STORY OF THE BERNIN FAMILY</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"></td> <td class="tdc"></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"></td> <td class="tdc"><a href="#Part_III-Gabriel_Ortiz">Part III-Gabriel Ortiz</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XV.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">THE STORM BURSTS</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XVI.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">GABRIEL ORTIZ MUSTERS HIS FORCES AND COUNTS HIS PRISONERS</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XVII.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">LEO AND SONIA DETERMINE TO STEAL A MOTOR-CAR BUT FALL INTO AN +UNEXPECTED TRAP</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">TARRASCHIN'S MEMORANDUM CHANGES OWNERS</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XIX.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">WALLION SPEAKS OUT AND RASTAKOV IS BALKED OF HIS PREY</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XX.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">IN WHICH WALLION SHOWS THAT A GREAT DEAL CAN BE DONE IN TEN MINUTES</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXI.</td> <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">THE END OF A GLORIOUS DREAM</a></td></tr> + +</table> + + +<hr class="chap"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Part_I-The_Whirlpool"><i>Part I—The Whirlpool</i></h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="PROLOGUE">PROLOGUE</h2> +</div> + + +<p>This is the story of a great peril, and how it was averted.</p> + +<p>It is surprising to think how few persons were aware of this peril, or +had any suspicion of the extraordinary events that were taking place in +Stockholm during the fateful year 1917.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, at the beginning of the year, a little weekly newspaper +published a very striking open letter, entitled: "Who is the Man in the +Whirlpool?"</p> + +<p>To whom was it addressed? There was no indication, but the writer was +evidently inspired by a deep and growing conviction of impending evil. +The article ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>Have we lost all power of distinguishing between essentials and +non-essentials? Stockholm has become a caravanserai, a link between +East and West, a central clearing-house for all those who, under +various disguises and with varying aims, seek to enrich themselves in +the blood-stained arena of War. Can no one foresee what sort of crop +must ultimately spring from this strife-sodden soil? It is tragic, +while almost laughable, to see how people persist in labeling as +'espionage' every new development whose purpose is unintelligible +to them, in the same way that they would probably account for all +unexplained conflagrations with the glib verdict: 'a short-circuit.'</p> + +<p>What <i>is</i> espionage? Of course, it exists. But is there nothing more?</p> + +<p>Chips from many kinds of timber float on the surface of the whirlpool. +What a medley of strange faces, which nobody recognizes, bob up from +its mysterious depths!</p> + +<p>The short-sighted public are content to go on believing that in +Stockholm, where secret committees and conferences, planners and +plotters from every quarter of the earth, are struggling together for +the mastery, these dark deeds are one and all the work of secret agents +of the belligerent powers.</p> + +<p>Yet it is as certain as a problem of Euclid that at the vortex of the +Whirlpool we shall find a group of intelligences working solely for +their own interests. Let us suppose that amongst these, <i>one</i> alone is +to be found who is strong enough to fight his way through chaos, or +rather let us say, to <i>dominate</i> chaos. Would not such a man establish +himself at the very heart of the Whirlpool, to direct the various +powers of destruction whither he will?</p> + +<p>We need not limit ourselves to supposition: <i>He exists</i>. We do not +know who he is, and it is possible that his plans are known to no one +besides himself. The air is full of rumors, and no one can tell what +the future may bring forth. There is enough to show that a powerful +will is evidently directing the activities of many of these lawless +phenomena. Who is the Man in the Whirlpool?</p> + +<p>Can no one answer the question before it is too late? For he certainly +exists.</p> +</div> + +<p>This appeal fell on deaf ears. The few who read it shook their heads, +and laughed. The newspaper relapsed into silence with its next number.</p> + +<p>To this very day, nobody knows who wrote the article, though Maurice +Wallion can make a pretty shrewd guess. The article does not affect +our story except as an example of the characteristic and frequently +recurring collapse which precedes the fulfilment of a truth, as the +prophetic slump gives warning of a financial crisis. It is known now +that there <i>was</i> a Man in the Whirlpool, and in order to give an +account of that daring adventurer's gigantic attempt to organize chaos, +the author has had recourse to the evidence of a number of persons, +in particular Messrs. Wallion and Raebel, and, above all, Mr. Leonard +Grath.</p> + +<p>But we must tell our tale methodically, and many things happened before +the actual appearance of the arch-villain himself. The story opens, +appropriately, with the arrival of two of the principal characters +in Stockholm, that is to say, on July 19th, 1917. From that moment, +the depths begin to seethe, the catastrophe looms nearer, and a Face +appears amidst the foaming waters....</p> + +<p>The curtain rises....</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Baron Frederick Fayerling waits in vain for the most important +document in Europe</i></h3> + + +<p>"Well, what else?"</p> + +<p>Baron Frederick Fayerling had a way of addressing his subordinates as +though he were cracking a dog-whip. He was standing by his writing +table, a strongly-built man of medium height, with cold blue eyes, and +a beard in the style that D'Annunzio brought into fashion. As he looked +down at the man who sat on a chair close by, he folded his arms, with a +look of disgust, as though he were thinking: "What a face! The fellow +is a regular freak."</p> + +<p>The baron's well-kept teeth showed slightly, and the whip cracked +again. "Next! The report on Tarraschin's memorandum."</p> + +<p>The man on the chair, who was slowly and sullenly twisting his hat in +his fingers, murmured in reply: "You forget, sir, that we are in a +hotel bedroom, with all sorts of folk within earshot."</p> + +<p>"And <i>you</i> forget, that when I wish to hear a report, you have only +to obey my orders. What's wrong with a room in a hotel? Stockholm +is absolutely full of spies and adventurers: so much the better for +you—there is safety in numbers. Go ahead!" The fellow cringed to the +lash, and made a start. "The man whom you expect is called Bernard +Jenin," he said rapidly and softly. "I made his acquaintance, as you +instructed me, and gained his confidence to a considerable extent. He +is quite young, and was traveling to Sweden by way of Finland, as we +anticipated; I was his only companion in the north-bound train. I am +absolutely convinced that he is in possession of the document: but he +is cautious. I gathered that he is an ardent admirer of Kerensky, but +as a matter of fact, he comes as a hunted fugitive from Russia."</p> + +<p>"Did you manage to get a photograph of him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, easily: here it is."</p> + +<p>Baron Fayerling took the snapshot and examined it closely. It showed +a portion of the gangway outside a railway carriage; a man, wearing +a very thin, almost ragged overcoat, was leaning against the iron +railing, and gazing dreamily at the landscape through which he was +passing; his clean-shaven face, with its broad brow and small mouth, +was youthful-looking and attractive, but with a striking expression of +calm resignation and patient expectation; his dark eyes were encircled +by a network of very fine wrinkles, which might be the result of bodily +suffering, or of many years of anxiety and strife.</p> + +<p>"He looks weak," remarked the baron, throwing the photograph on one +side. "It should not be difficult to—persuade him. Were you able to +make any overtures to him?"</p> + +<p>"No, he is not to be got at in that way; he is an honest revolutionary."</p> + +<p>The baron laughed a little. "Honest? A dangerous attribute in these +days of war! Where is he now?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as Bernard Jenin and I arrived at Stockholm this morning, +Rastakov took charge. Jenin believes that I am associated with his +friends; I have no idea who his friends are, I never saw him speak to +anybody or write a letter, but I persuaded him to engage a room in this +hotel, and to await a visit from a common acquaintance, who will give +him some important news."</p> + +<p>"In this very hotel?" asked the baron sharply.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is at the present minute in room No. 23."</p> + +<p>"Ah, in 23, that's better. Have you arranged that our friends should +keep on the adjoining rooms?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all is in order."</p> + +<p>Baron Fayerling nodded approvingly, and the man began to twirl his hat +a little faster. His employer, who could read the signs of the times, +smiled contemptuously, took out some banknotes and threw them down on +the table.</p> + +<p>"There you are!" said he. "One thing more: you have been in Finland +since the beginning of January; what is your number there?"</p> + +<p>"B.22," replied the man, gathering the notes together with a sort of +enveloping maneuver.</p> + +<p>"That is all right; in other words, we shall not require you here any +longer."</p> + +<p>B.22 rose obediently and went towards the door.</p> + +<p>"Send Rastakov here!" was the baron's parting salutation.</p> + +<p>The man disappeared, and two minutes later another person entered, +closing the door quietly after him. He was a tall, dark, taciturn +fellow, a regular Slav in appearance, about thirty years of age, with +bold, resolute eyes, and a touch of self-satisfied impudence in his +look.</p> + +<p>The baron's expression had altered, and he now spoke in a frank, +friendly tone.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Rastakov, did you meet B.22?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Did you verify his reports?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are correct."</p> + +<p>"Good; I don't trust the fellow any longer, and for the future he must +be under supervision. Bernard Jenin is installed in room 23—with the +most important paper in Europe in his possession, and now, Rastakov, +the great thing is to get hold of it. If you are prepared to risk +something for our cause, that paper should be in our hands in an hour's +time."</p> + +<p>Rastakov made no reply, but he tightened his thin lips with a look of +determination.</p> + +<p>"Have you warned all our friends?" inquired the baron.</p> + +<p>"Yes, they will keep out of the way till it is done."</p> + +<p>"And you have nothing about you which would compromise us, should you +fail?"</p> + +<p>"I am not a child!"</p> + +<p>"Go in five minutes' time to Jenin's room, introduce yourself as the +friend of whom B.22 spoke to him, and talk to him for a bit in such +a way as not to arouse his suspicions, though he may feel a little +puzzled. Then act as swiftly and silently as circumstances permit. I +will give you a quarter of an hour. When you come out of the room, I +shall be sitting in one of the wicker chairs near the staircase: you +must pass me, and if you have the paper, bow slightly, and walk slowly +out towards the Park, where I will join you in an hour's time."</p> + +<p>The baron walked up to Rastakov, and looked meaningly at him: "If +anything goes wrong, you must look out for yourself," he added: "you +know our rules?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the other without flinching: "you need not remind me of +them." And without another word, he left the room. The baron looked +after him; his face resumed its usual cynical expression, and he +laughed. "Poor fool!" he said half-aloud.</p> + +<p>He looked at the clock: it was half-past twelve. He yawned, examined +his finger-nails, and lighted a cigar. Then he took his coat, gloves +and Panama hat, and went towards the door, which burst open as he +approached it, and a short, stout, and very fashionably-dressed man +came in. The two men stood staring at one another, without a word of +greeting.</p> + +<p>"Marcus Tassler," exclaimed the baron, impatiently, "what are you doing +here? Be quick, I am in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Two minutes, only two minutes, baron," replied the new-comer, in an +oily, businesslike voice. His flaccid sallow face, with its thick +red lips, was as Jewish as his voice, but his hair was fair and +close-cropped.</p> + +<p>"I met Rastakov, and I know everything. But let me just warn you...."</p> + +<p>"Warn me!" interrupted the baron, "it is too late for warnings. Our +preparations are made, and must come to a head shortly; the Tarraschin +memorandum will be the corner-stone of the edifice, and then the storm +may break! If you are afraid, you had better be silent."</p> + +<p>"No, I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it then?"</p> + +<p>Marcus Tassler drew an opened telegram from an inner pocket and struck +it with the palm of his hand. "I warn you," he said again emphatically. +"This bomb business in Christiania has compromised our position, and +there is danger in the air. Though no one may have discovered our +plans, the Press are on the alert, and sniffing suspiciously in every +direction...."</p> + +<p>"Much that matters!" said the baron, coolly. "The fools believe that we +are working for one of the belligerent powers, as spies and dynamiters: +let them think so. The explosions in Christiania were a blunder, but +nothing worse; the idiot who managed the affair, acted on his own +initiative; I have isolated the consequences, and directed suspicion +towards a quarter which will make the whole of Scandinavia gasp." The +baron laughed contentedly. "We are stronger than any of the Great +Powers, and our plan is the most colossal ever conceived by the brain +of one man. So why need you worry?"</p> + +<p>Marcus Tassler nodded, rubbed his hands, and burst out with a sort of +enthusiastic eagerness: "Yes, I admit that Gabriel Ortiz...."</p> + +<p>The baron shot a threatening glance at him: "Hush! Never that name, +except in a whisper, or when you are alone."</p> + +<p>"All right, our Chief, then. I admit that his genius seems able to +surmount any obstacle: but, baron, his genius has not yet been put to +positive proof. I am of opinion that what is just beginning...."</p> + +<p>"Look here, are you ever coming to the point?"</p> + +<p>"I begin to suspect that we have an antagonist."</p> + +<p>"An antagonist? Are you mad? Since nobody knows us, how can anyone +become our antagonist?"</p> + +<p>"You think not? How about this wire from our Agent in Göteburg?"</p> + +<p>"What does he say?"</p> + +<p>"That Leonard Grath, the owner of the Copper House, arrived in Göteburg +yesterday, and is already in Stockholm by this time."</p> + +<p>The baron looked serious, took the telegram himself, and read it +through.</p> + +<p>"You can't think that this stripling will turn out to be our +antagonist?" said he.</p> + +<p>"No, but the fact of his arriving in Stockholm simultaneously with +Jenin, points to a premeditated plan. You know what the Copper House +means to us. No one expected that the owner would return, at any rate +so suddenly. Do you think, baron, that someone has sent for him to +turn us out of the house—that would be a catastrophe, wouldn't it?" +The baron returned to the table, where he stood and meditated for a +short time. "The Copper House—I didn't expect that news," he murmured, +then turned round and said: "We shall find some way out of it. For the +moment, Jenin is our chief consideration. Have you taken any steps +towards having Leonard Grath met?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course he is being shadowed, and the first thing to do will be +to go through his papers."</p> + +<p>"Right, and try to get me a photograph of him."</p> + +<p>"I believe that has been seen to already."</p> + +<p>"Presumably he will go down to the Copper House; that cannot be +avoided, but of course he must discover nothing there."</p> + +<p>"That is obvious!" replied Tassler. "But suppose he <i>should</i> find out +anything?"</p> + +<p>"In that case, he need not survive it. He might meet with an accident, +the sea is close by—I leave it to you to work out the details."</p> + +<p>As if by mutual consent, the two gentlemen avoided looking at each +other at this moment.</p> + +<p>"Was there anything else?" asked the baron.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then you had better go. We will meet at four this afternoon in the +usual place. Don't come again to the hotel: Rastakov is in room 23 now."</p> + +<p>Tassler's complexion looked paler than ever, and he did not wait to +hear any more. When the baron turned round, he had left the room.</p> + +<p>Baron Fayerling took a good pull at his cigar. The big hotel was very +quiet, and the atmosphere felt close and lifeless under the heated +sunblinds. Through the open windows he could hear the monotonous hum +of the street, impregnated with the warm odor of sun-baked granite and +asphalt, and punctuated by the crescendo and diminuendo of the trams, +as they stopped, started, and rang their bells; in this third summer of +the Great War one heard rather less of the hooting of motor-cars, and +of the groaning and creaking of cables, behind the smoke-stained walls +of the central depot. The baron listened absently, whilst he bestowed +another minute's thought on Tassler.</p> + +<p>"They're a cowardly lot," he mused cynically. "Half of them are working +to promote their own feeble ideals, the rest care only for piling up +their banking-account, and they all imagine Ortiz to be an amiable +idiot, whose shekels will further their own ambitions. Let them muddle +along—the main thing is that we can make use of them."</p> + +<p>He threw his cigar into the ash-tray, and his cold, calculating eyes +glittered. "An amiable idiot? Why not? Time enough to decide about +that—afterwards."</p> + +<p>He left the room abruptly, closing the door behind him, and mounted +the stairs to the next floor, stopping on the landing. To the right +lay a red-carpeted corridor, similar to that in which his own room +was situated, and just at the bend of the passage he could see a door +numbered 23. This door, like all those near it, was shut, and the +corridor was empty. At the top of the stairs was a sort of recess, +with palms, three wicker armchairs, and a table with newspapers. In +the chair nearest the banisters sat a gentleman reading one of the +papers. The baron frowned: he would have preferred to find the place +unoccupied; still, not the ghost of a sound was to be heard from No. +23, and with a comforting recollection of Rastakov's proved skill +in transacting his business quietly and swiftly, he sat calmly down +on one of the chairs, and resigned himself to wait. He cast a hasty +glance at the reader, who appeared to be a middle-aged person, tall, +powerfully built, and very well-dressed: his face was buried in the +newspaper, and only the top of his sleek head could be seen. Then the +baron returned to his own meditations. He was surprised to find himself +a little excited: do what he would, his eyes kept straying towards +the closed door of room 23. The Tarraschin document would change the +whole situation; its possession meant an increase of power, its loss, +the renewal of such difficulties as are apt to wreck one's plans at +the last moment. To be disappointed now, when everything was ready, +and every day invaluable! Unthinkable, unless at great risk of an +even greater disaster. Peace overtures were already in the air—who +could tell, perhaps this very autumn.... The baron felt his excitement +increasing, the suspense was beginning to tell on him: what could be +the reason of Rastakov's delay! Perhaps Jenin had not the paper after +all. And so many precious months had gone by already—what was the date?</p> + +<p>The man reading the newspaper opposite to him, looked over the top of +it and said in a quiet, pleasant voice: "July 19th, 1917." The baron +started, and for a moment he wondered if he could have been thinking +aloud; then he said stiffly: "Were you speaking to me, sir?" "Yes," +replied the other, as pleasantly as before, "I noticed that you were +trying to make out the date of my newspaper, so I took the liberty of +supplying you with the information."</p> + +<p>The speaker had an intelligent, clean-shaven face, with aquiline +features, and smiling gray eyes that beamed with a keen and +irrepressible desire for information. Just now they were fixed on +Baron Fayerling with a look which that aristocrat endeavored to return +with equal self-possession. He said hastily: "I am not aware, sir, +that I asked you for any information." The other smiled, and answered +slowly: "That is true, but I am delighted to overlook the—the lack of +invitation."</p> + +<p>The baron suspected a hidden sarcasm in his neighbor's voice or +expression, but both were irreproachable. Confused by the situation in +which he found himself, he colored hotly, and replied sourly: "Sir, you +seem to me to be both persistent and inquisitive!" An instant later, +he realized that he had forgotten himself; but the other man did not +appear to notice what had been said: he struck a match, lighted a +cigarette, and returned to his paper as though the baron had ceased +to exist for him. The latter's self-control began to give way, and he +stared mutely at the newspaper, behind which a thin column of smoke +rose into the air. What business had the fellow on this landing? And +would Rastakov never come out of the mysterious door of room 23? The +silence seemed to become more intense with every moment that went by, +and at last the baron could stand it no longer. He got up. The reader +did not stir. He walked into the corridor and felt more comfortable now +that he was out of the other man's sight. He passed No. 23, turned and +walked past it again: not a sound to be heard. The quarter of an hour +allotted to Rastakov had expired long ago. The baron looked all round +him: not a human being was in sight. He put his ear to the key-hole: +deep silence reigned inside the room; he turned the handle: the door +was not locked. Finally he decided to enter. On the floor in front of +him lay a figure tied up like a parcel, with a handkerchief spread +over the face. The baron lifted the handkerchief, and saw Rastakov's +bloodshot eyes glaring at him in dumb fury, over a powerful gag. There +was nobody else in the room.</p> + +<p>A small envelope was sticking out of the prisoner's breast-pocket in +a very obvious way, and the baron noticed his own name on it. Ripping +it open, he took out a card, upon which a few lines were written in a +bold, clear hand: "Dear baron,—Bernard Jenin desires to be remembered +to you, and I return Rastakov to you undamaged, having no further use +for him. Maurice Wallion."</p> + +<p>The baron freed the captive, removing the gag, and cutting the cord +into fragments. Rastakov sat up, but did not speak.</p> + +<p>"Don't sit there, rubbing yourself like an ass!" exclaimed the baron. +"What have you done?"</p> + +<p>"Done?—nothing!" sputtered Rastakov.</p> + +<p>"So I see. Speak out, man, what have you to say for yourself?"</p> + +<p>Rastakov was like a madman: he beat his fists on the floor and shouted: +"The devil take the room, and Jenin too! I came straight here, and +nobody was about, except a man who was sitting by the staircase, +reading the paper. I opened the door, and saw Jenin walking towards the +window, and I saw nothing more, for somebody seized me by the arms from +behind, threw me on the floor, and had muffled me up before I had the +chance to get a sight of him. I am no weakling, but he must have been +twice as strong. When he had bound and gagged me, he suddenly threw a +cloth over my face, and immediately after I heard him whispering to +Jenin. This lasted about a minute, then they left the room together, +shutting the door after them."</p> + +<p>"And Tarraschin's document?"</p> + +<p>Rastakov made an expressive gesture, and the baron seemed to see the +most important paper in Europe fluttering away into space, so near, and +yet so far. The facts seemed to confirm Tassler's warning: "There are +things which make me suspect that we have an antagonist," and as this +dawned on him, he dragged Rastakov roughly up from the floor.</p> + +<p>"Who is Maurice Wallion?" he demanded sharply. The other made no reply, +and the baron rushed out of the room and along to the staircase. The +mysterious newspaper reader was no longer there, but on the table lay +an envelope similar to that which he had recently taken from Rastakov's +pocket. The baron tore it open, and read: "P.S.—I waited to see you in +actual communication with room 23. I am indeed <i>persistent</i> when I have +to deal with those who traffic in criminal mysteries, and <i>inquisitive</i> +about abuses which I intend to expose. Maurice Wallion."</p> + +<p>Baron Fayerling was no coward, but for a second even his blood ran +cold, and he felt the first gusts of possible defeat moaning round him. +But the blast subsided: he was himself again. Rastakov now joined him +and he said to him: "Take the next train to the Copper House. I will +telephone further orders this afternoon."</p> + +<p>With these words, he too went his way.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>A young man arrives from California, and hears some unexpected news</i></h3> + + +<p>Mr. Burchardt the lawyer sat as stolidly as a grandfather clock beside +his writing-table, and stared over his spectacles at Leonard Grath. It +was an odd sort of reception for a lively young fellow who had just +arrived from the other side of the globe, and Leonard Grath burst out +laughing.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>There was no harm in Leo, but he was young: to be quite accurate, +twenty-six years of age. He was of medium height, well-made, with an +honest, sunburnt face, merry blue eyes, brown hair, worn rather long +as a tribute to his artistic propensities, and a large but sensitive +mouth; to complete the description, he had the restless, flexible +hands of an artist, a clear, confident voice, and just the least touch +of foppishness in his appearance. The youth was no paragon; he was a +happy-go-lucky fellow, not only in his artistic fancies, but in every +detail of his daily life.</p> + +<p>"Wrong?" echoed the lawyer, and a look of something like emotion +flitted over his stolid features. "Things are no worse than they have +been all along, but they are quite bad enough, Leo."</p> + +<p>"Now for a homily!" muttered the young man, "and the title is: 'On the +danger of getting into debt.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Burchardt looked pained.</p> + +<p>"My dear Leo," said he, gravely, "you have not been much troubled with +advice from me for some time: it must be quite six years since I last +saw you. I suppose you remember that I have been the adviser of your +family for the last thirty years. To all intents and purposes I have +stood to you <i>in loco parentis</i>. Your only belongings are your Aunt +Fernanda, her children and grandchildren in California, where you have +stayed for so long that we began to wonder if you ever intended to come +home...."</p> + +<p>"Well, what of that? The Copper House couldn't run away from me."</p> + +<p>"The Copper House <i>has</i> run away from you!" retorted the lawyer +sharply. Leonard looked serious, and settled himself more firmly in his +chair.</p> + +<p>"That's impossible," he faltered.</p> + +<p>"My letter concerned the Copper House," continued Mr. Burchardt. "I +posted it to your address in Los Angeles, but you had already left. You +have got home in the nick of time—for some things," he added, rather +bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I arrived in Sweden yesterday," said Leo. "I had a fancy to take a +peep at the Copper House, and so I came over."</p> + +<p>"And so you came over," echoed the lawyer, with a wry face. "It is a +pity that the fancy did not seize you sooner. I fear that the Copper +House is no longer yours, Leo, and that's the truth."</p> + +<p>The young man colored up like a schoolboy, and said huskily: "Was that +what your letter was about?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I wrote to request your consent to the sale of the Copper House."</p> + +<p>"The Copper House for sale?"</p> + +<p>"You may regard it as sold, my lad."</p> + +<p>"What the devil do you mean?" cried Leo, springing up from his chair.</p> + +<p>"What else can you expect, when a property has been neglected for +three generations? Your grandfather spent the whole of his life +abroad, and married in California, where he settled. When he died, +Karka was mortgaged for half its value, although his sister worked +herself to skin and bone in her efforts to reduce expenses. Your father +certainly remained at home, but he entertained very lavishly, and his +tobacco-growing hobby, which started very hopefully, proved a very +costly failure. You inherited your grandfather's love of travel, and +your idea of managing an estate apparently consists in telegraphing +incessantly for money from the four quarters of the earth. During the +last thirty years, I have warned first your father and then you how +things were going. Then the War broke out, and now matters have come +to a crisis. I can assure you, I have done my utmost to stave off the +debts...."</p> + +<p>Leo had been drumming on the window-pane, and now he turned round and +said: "I know you have; I'm not trying to excuse myself."</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded, and continued in a slightly mollified tone: "I had +not put up the property for sale, but at the end of March a purchaser +appeared unexpectedly, and made a good—an uncommonly good offer, which +we have no choice but to accept. I have drawn up the contract already, +and was only awaiting your consent to my signature, but since you are +back, you can sign it yourself."</p> + +<p>"My signature!" repeated the young man. He was filled with a sullen, +boyish despair at the thought that, by a stroke of the pen, he +must sign away the property which had been in his family for eight +generations, and lose the old home which was the shrine of his childish +memories.</p> + +<p>"It can't be true, it's impossible!" he burst out.</p> + +<p>The lawyer looked at him as though he were taking a careful inventory +of the young man's weakness and lack of resource in this unforeseen +emergency.</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately it is only too possible," he said gently. The official +atmosphere of Mr. Burchardt's private room began to irritate Leo like +the touch of a hair shirt on a sensitive skin, and as the lawyer turned +suggestively towards his deed-box, the young man said hastily, almost +incoherently, as if attempting to stave off inevitable doom: "No, not +yet! Give me a little time to get accustomed to the idea. I must have +one more look at the Copper House whilst it is still mine...."</p> + +<p>Burchardt looked thoughtful. Inwardly, he was deeply touched, but his +severe expression remained unaltered, and he said to himself: "What a +pity the scatter-brained fellow did not make a rich marriage, while +there was time."</p> + +<p>Aloud he remarked: "As you wish. But I have not told you everything +yet. As you know, the Copper House, that is, the house itself, was let +in the summer of 1915 to a person named Andrei Bernin. He is a Russian +author, though I believe he has naturalized himself as a Swede, and +he is living in the Copper House with his sister and his daughter. As +regards the rest of the estate, and the woods, Suneson the bailiff +continued to look after them, at any rate until last year; perhaps +you remember him—a decent, trustworthy fellow. But he left the place +very suddenly last autumn without giving notice. Andrei Bernin now +rents the whole property, but the land is lying fallow. He's a strange +sort of man—shuts himself up altogether in the Copper House; he seems +to have plenty of money, and, not content with paying rent for the +place, he has now made a very generous offer to buy it. I have never +met him personally, as he is elderly and an invalid, and blind into +the bargain; but I carry on negotiations with his friend and solicitor +Marcus Tassler, who is managing the business with the most amazing +energy...."</p> + +<p>"Tassler," said Leo, with a slight grimace, "is he a German?"</p> + +<p>"I should say he is of a sort of German-Russian-Jewish extraction, +but all the same, he is a Swedish citizen," replied the +pedantically-accurate Burchardt. "He is one of those financial experts +who have come to the front during this War, and he is the Manager of +the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company. Personally, I don't find +him particularly congenial, but he certainly looks after his friend +Bernin's interests with exemplary zeal. They have not allowed us much +time to turn round; I have been obliged to give way a little here and +there. A considerable sum of caution-money has been paid down already: +if the sale does not go through, the lease holds good, and we are bound +to undertake expensive repairs, whilst, over and above all that, we +shall be held legally responsible for allowing the land to go out of +cultivation...."</p> + +<p>Leo turned quickly to the window; the truth seemed to dawn upon him for +the first time, and he said: "I suppose the Copper House is filled with +these people?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and all the old servants have left. We are absolutely powerless, +Leo; the sale <i>must</i> take place!"</p> + +<p>"Must it?" murmured Leo, still unconvinced. "Have you anything more to +tell me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Bernin, or, more correctly, Tassler acting for him, has bought up +all the mortgages, and the largest outstanding debts on the property, +and is bringing pressure to bear on us in that way."</p> + +<p>Leo felt as though a net was closing round him: he was furious, and +exclaimed: "The cheek of the fellow! So he threatens me, does he? I'll +have something to say to him!"</p> + +<p>"It is his way, I don't blame him. At any rate, we can't quarrel with +the price he offers: it will cover all your family liabilities."</p> + +<p>"Will there be any surplus?"</p> + +<p>"About twelve thousand kroner, I should think."</p> + +<p>"That isn't much," remarked Leo thoughtfully. His anger had evaporated, +and he was smiling. "After all, I have always been hard-up, so there +won't be a great difference. At any rate, the Copper House still +belongs to me—nominally."</p> + +<p>Burchardt came up to the young man and laid a hand on his shoulder. He +had laid aside his official manner, and said kindly: "Take my advice, +Leo. Life is hard on those who make no attempt to take it seriously, +and we are living in an age when individuals as well as nations are +being tested to the fullest extent of their capabilities. You are +young, mentally and physically: that is one asset. You have had a good +education: that is another. Face the future boldly, and win yourself a +place in the sun: you <i>can</i> do it."</p> + +<p>Leo looked at him: "Yes," said he, "that doesn't sound bad. But how am +I to do it?"</p> + +<p>"By working."</p> + +<p>"Painting, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean, by hard work."</p> + +<p>"Chopping wood, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"By all means, if you are fit for nothing better."</p> + +<p>The young man stretched his arms over his head, and laughed softly; +then he began to walk up and down the room.</p> + +<p>"I may be a ne'er-do-well, but I am not an invertebrate," said he. +"I expected all this in a way, but I don't know how it is.... I feel +somehow relieved. At any rate, I know now just how I stand. But," he +added, with renewed vehemence, "the loss of the Copper House is an idea +that it will take me some time to digest."</p> + +<p>"It is too late to prevent it now, Leo."</p> + +<p>"That is just what makes it so hard to bear! Besides, I can't get over +the fact of such people as these taking such a fancy to the Copper +House; I'm sure there's something wrong somewhere."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing wrong with their money, at all events," remarked +Burchardt patiently.</p> + +<p>"Money!" snorted Leo, turning round. His expressive face lighted up, +and he added eagerly: "Nobody knows yet that I am in Sweden. Suppose I +go straight back to California, and try to make a fortune. How's that +for an idea?"</p> + +<p>The lawyer remained silent: he had not the heart to reply. But the +young man's remark reminded him of something, and he bent down and took +an envelope from his desk.</p> + +<p>"Somebody seems to have expected your arrival," he said, "for this +letter has been waiting for you since yesterday."</p> + +<p>"A letter!" repeated Leo, taking it with surprise, "so it is, and by +the postmark a local one, posted here in Stockholm. Isn't that odd!"</p> + +<p>He opened and read it, first to himself, then aloud:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Mr. Leonard Grath</span>, c/o Burchardt & Co.,<br> +Stockholm.</p> + +<p>"Sir,—Should you intend taking any steps with regard to the Copper +House, may I beg you to wait for further information from me? The +matter is serious. Above all, let nobody know that you are in +Stockholm, and on no account go out to the Copper House. Ask Mr. +Burchardt to observe similar precautions. He can tell you who I am.</p> + +<p class="ph2">"Yours in great haste,<br> +"<span class="smcap">Maurice Wallion</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>Leo read these lines once again. The lawyer pricked up his ears, as if +at the sound of a bugle. "Maurice Wallion," he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the name. What's all this about? Who is the fellow, and +what does he mean?"</p> + +<p>Burchardt took the letter, and read it in his turn, slowly and +attentively. Leo, who was watching him, noticed that the lawyer +actually looked disturbed, almost alarmed.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked the young man, quickly. "Who on earth is Maurice +Wallion?"</p> + +<p>"Unexpected, perfectly unexpected!" murmured the lawyer. "Serious? Yes, +that may well be, if <i>he</i> says so. Leo, this message comes from a man +who wishes you well. I happen to know him; few persons have met him, +but many have heard of him. They call him 'the problem-hunter,' and his +nominal occupation is that of a contributor to the <i>Daily Courier</i>. But +he is more than a journalist: he has a way of turning up on the scene +of any crime or mystery, if he thinks there is anything abnormal about +it."</p> + +<p>Leo smiled slightly: "That sounds very mysterious," he said, "but as I +am not guilty of any deeds of darkness, I can't say I feel particularly +alarmed...."</p> + +<p>"I was engaged on young Ravenscrone's case, when Wallion recovered +his estate for him," replied the lawyer gravely; "that problem was a +hundred years old: but he solved it in an hour."</p> + +<p>"And now I suppose he will offer to recover mine," said Leo. "Why, +what business is it of his? How did he know, to begin with, that I was +coming here?"</p> + +<p>"How, indeed," echoed the lawyer significantly.</p> + +<p>They looked at one another, and the young man's smile gave place to a +frown. "I call it either great cheek or a very poor joke for anyone to +meddle unasked in my affairs," he said, taking up the letter to put it +in his pocket-book.</p> + +<p>Burchardt shook his head, and at the same moment Leo uttered a cry of +vexation. "My pocket-book!" he exclaimed, "that scoundrel has stolen +it!"</p> + +<p>"Who has?" asked the lawyer, jumping up.</p> + +<p>"A man who ran into me on the stairs about half an hour ago. It can +have been no one else, for I had it in my hand not five minutes before. +He was a tall, thin fellow, with black eyes; I thought he was drunk, +for he barged right into me, without saying a word; I gave him a good +shove, and he lurched out into the street. Of course the beggar was +after my pocket-book."</p> + +<p>"What had you in it?"</p> + +<p>"Not much money, but practically all my papers, passport and +everything."</p> + +<p>At this minute the door opened, and one of Burchardt's clerks came in.</p> + +<p>"A boy has just left this parcel for Mr. Grath," he said, putting +down an oblong packet, and departing. Leo tore open the white paper, +which bore no address, and looked up with a mixture of amusement and +bewilderment in his face.</p> + +<p>"What's the date to-day?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"July 19, 1917," replied the puzzled lawyer.</p> + +<p>"Make a note of it, as being a day of surprises."</p> + +<p>"What is it now?"</p> + +<p>"I have got back my pocket-book. It is here, in this parcel."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so! Empty, of course?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Leo, after looking through it, "that is the most +surprising thing of all. Nothing is missing. He has not taken a single +thing."</p> + +<p>"Impossible, it's too absurd. Look again more carefully."</p> + +<p>Both men examined the pocket-book again, but it was as Leo had stated: +both money and papers were totally undisturbed.</p> + +<p>"This is certainly a very striking commentary on our friend the +'problem-hunter's' letter," remarked the young man; "is he given to +playing such tricks as these?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Burchardt, curtly. "His letter is a warning, and +this incident is a case in point. Some person has had recourse to an +uncommonly daring way of finding out everything that concerns you, +evidently wishing to identify you by the aid of your own papers."</p> + +<p>In spite of himself, Leo began to feel rather uncomfortable but he +pulled himself together, and said: "I begin to think that there is a +general conspiracy to make a fool of me: a profiteering baron wants +to compel me to sell the Copper House: a thief steals my papers, and +sends them back untouched: a problem-hunter sends me unintelligible +warnings—my poor brain is getting quite muddled! I wish I was back in +California, there are such a queer lot of folk in Sweden, since last I +was here."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, Leo," said the lawyer slowly. "There is something wrong +about all this. That fellow Tassler must have some motive of which +we know nothing. The first thing for you to do is to find out what +Maurice Wallion knows."</p> + +<p>"I am going straight to him."</p> + +<p>"Now? He is not easy to get hold of, unless he wishes, but at any rate +you can try."</p> + +<p>"I intend to. So long, sir!"</p> + +<p>Leonard Grath left the lawyer's office with his usual impetuosity, +and ran whistling down the stairs. Burchardt's office was near the +Kungstrad Park, and the young man crossed the road to get into the +shade of the lime-trees. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, the +beds were gay with flowers, and a great many people were about. A +well-dressed man, carrying a small but expensive camera, passed him, +turned quickly, and raised the camera; a click, and it was done. So +rapid were the man's movements, that Leo did not at first realize that +he himself had been the target of the camera. He took the cigarette +from his mouth, and shouted: "I say, you there! You, sir!" But at that +minute the unknown photographer boarded a passing tram, and was whirled +away.</p> + +<p>"What next?" wondered Leo. "Another one who wants to know what I +look like! I seem to be very much in demand!" He looked round him in +perplexity, and was presently aware of an uncanny feeling that he was +being watched by someone in the crowd. Yet wherever he turned, he could +see no one whom he knew, or who appeared to recognize him. Lights and +shadows flickered through the green leaves, and the sunshine lighted +up pretty faces and summer costumes. He began to feel dazed, and sat +down on one of the green benches. "I must be dreaming," he thought. +"This is all too strange to be true. Yes, of course I am dreaming."</p> + +<p>He got up, walked on a short way, then stopped again. "If only I had +the smallest idea what is up!" He laughed. "I shall go and see Wallion."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later he entered the offices of the <i>Daily Courier</i>, and +asked for Maurice Wallion, half-expecting to be laughed at for his +pains, and informed that no such person was known there. But the young +and energetic reporter to whom he addressed his inquiries, looked at +him attentively, and said: "Did you make an appointment to meet him +here?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly."</p> + +<p>"Then I'm afraid it is no use your waiting."</p> + +<p>"But I have had a letter from him."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that alters the case," observed the reporter, opening an +engagement book. "What name, please?"</p> + +<p>"Leonard Grath," replied the other in surprise.</p> + +<p>"That's good!" said the reporter with a smile, immediately becoming +much more friendly in his manner; "my name is Robert Lang, and you are +expected."</p> + +<p>"Expected!" echoed Leo, more astonished than ever.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I can tell you at once that nobody knows why, except Wallion. +I am his assistant, and I believe he is most anxious to see you. +Unfortunately he is out at present. I haven't seen him since yesterday +evening, but step into his room, and we'll see."</p> + +<p>They went into a small room leading off the corridor, and the cheery +young reporter went briskly to the telephone. After ringing up several +places, he said: "I can't get on to him, he is neither at his house, +nor at any of the places where we can usually get word to him. It's +always the way! Sometimes he disappears for weeks on end, and we can do +nothing but wait until he thinks fit to turn up again."</p> + +<p>Leo smiled, but he felt terribly disappointed.</p> + +<p>"The worst of it is, that there is no time to lose," he remarked. "I +fear it may be too late as it is."</p> + +<p>"But you hinted that Wallion knows something about it already?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, so I understand."</p> + +<p>"Then you needn't worry. He won't let it be too late."</p> + +<p>Robert Lang said this with a calm certainty that impressed Leo, whilst +it made him feel more curious than ever.</p> + +<p>"Do <i>you</i> know what your friend the Problem-hunter wants me for?"</p> + +<p>"No, but that doesn't matter. I am only his assistant, his +sub-lieutenant, so to speak...."</p> + +<p>Here, the conversation was interrupted, as Robert Lang was called away. +Leo wandered round the room, which was filled with bookcases, files of +newspapers, and card-index cabinets. On the large writing table lay +manuscripts, photographs, foreign newspapers, and several volumes of +works of reference. The young man could see from a distance that one +of the photographs was that of a charming girl, whose dark and rather +appealing eyes seemed to be gazing right into his own. He could not +resist the temptation to pick up the portrait and examine it more +closely.</p> + +<p>"What a pretty girl," he thought: "brown eyes, decidedly—and black +hair:—an Italian, perhaps? Or no, more likely a Russian, with that +heart-shaped face, arched eyebrows, and audacious though sensitive +mouth."</p> + +<p>And here, Leo noticed something which made him open his own mouth, +and stare like one bewitched. In the lower corner of the picture was +written:</p> + + +<p class="ph3">Sonia Bernin,<br> +<span class="smcap">The Copper House</span>.</p> + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Wallion meets B.22, and certain remarkable episodes in a great man's +career are described, with the desired effect</i></h3> + + +<p>Maurice Wallion quitted the neighborhood of room 23 rather hurriedly, +as soon as the baron had gone in: not from fear—there was no such +word in his vocabulary—but because, in consequence of this somewhat +unexpected commencement of hostilities, he found himself suddenly +involved in a regular network of complicated problems.</p> + +<p>Bernard Jenin's unexpected arrival had completely upset his plans, +and forced him to show his hand prematurely to a powerful, prompt and +intelligent adversary, who would certainly stick at nothing in the way +of frustrating him. He did not regret the opportunity of dealing the +first blow, for his frankness had probably baffled the baron at the +start; but he foresaw that the approaching struggle would be a fierce +though brief one—brief, because in the course of a few hours he must +either be definitely beaten, or in possession of the information which +would make it possible for him to place the matter in the hands of the +police. It was, therefore, important for him to get quickly and surely +to work, before Baron Fayerling had had time to call up reinforcements.</p> + +<p>He slipped out of the hotel, and jumped into a tram, bound for the +northern district. He wondered which way Jenin had gone, for it +disturbed him a little that he had been able to do nothing for the +unfortunate young fellow, beyond hurrying him away, with an urgent +warning to keep clear of Fayerling's spies, and in case of need to take +refuge in the offices of the <i>Daily Courier</i>.</p> + +<p>There was undoubtedly something mysterious about Jenin himself, but +Wallion consoled himself with the thought that the young man's fate +would soon be settled in one way or another, and he decided to mention +the matter to Robert Lang. For the time being, he had more important +business to attend to. The tram turned into Tegnér Street and he got +out. He walked slowly up the street, stopped opposite one of the ugly, +gray, five-storied houses, and began, quite unostentatiously, to watch +the windows on the first floor.</p> + +<p>He had known for the last month, that this was one of Ortiz's +headquarters, and he suspected that Ortiz himself had stayed there for +some time at the beginning of the year. It was ostensibly a Finnish +boarding-house, but it was not advertised as such, and there never +seemed to be any rooms to let except to lodgers recommended by the +baron or by Tassler. For the time being, the only lodgers were three +persons who had recently arrived from Russia, and had some sort of +regular work at the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company. Rastakov, +too, generally stayed there, whenever he did not happen to be at the +Copper House. Wallion took it for granted that the man who was known as +B.22, and had shadowed Jenin on his journey to Stockholm, would come +here, and he was already considering the advisability of setting Robert +Lang to watch the house, when he suddenly saw B.22 himself come out of +the door, and go quickly down the street.</p> + +<p>The journalist was somewhat taken aback by this unexpected apparition; +it was quite obvious that something unusual had happened to the spy, +for he kept looking round, and Wallion could see that he appeared very +nervous.</p> + +<p>The journalist thought for a bit. What had happened? B.22 had evidently +gone straight to the boarding-house from the hotel, and had apparently +found some trouble awaiting him. Nothing was to be seen at the windows.</p> + +<p>Feeling rather puzzled, he began to follow the man, who turned +hurriedly down one side street after another, behaving more and more +strangely. He stood still now and then, staring anxiously behind him +with his large dark eyes, and not taking the slightest notice of the +journalist; his hands fidgeted in and out of his coat-pockets, and his +lips moved as though he were whispering to himself. Then he darted +forward again, through a passage that intersected a corner building, +and cut across an adjoining churchyard.</p> + +<p>Wallion, who began to grow tired of this extraordinary game, stepped +quickly up, and tapped him on the shoulder: "Good morning, my friend," +he exclaimed, "why this hurry?"</p> + +<p>The man started so violently that he nearly fell; Wallion caught hold +of him. "Now then, no nonsense!" he said sternly. "I know everything, +and I want to have a talk with you. If you tell me the truth, I may be +able to help you."</p> + +<p>He threw out this remark by way of a feeler, but the man took it +literally; a look of relief appeared on his haggard face, and he said +doubtfully: "Are you one of Jenin's friends? I don't know you, what +do you want with me? Are you a detective, by any chance?" he added +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"No, I am a newspaper reporter," said Wallion, still keeping hold of +his arm. "Come along with me."</p> + +<p>They went into a small, empty café, and sat down at a table in an inner +room. B.22 remained silent and watchful, but Wallion left him no time +for consideration.</p> + +<p>"I won't ask you your real name, B.22," said he, "but you had better +be quite straight with me, or it may be the worse for you. You have a +rotten set of friends, my lad, and it is high time you quit working +with them. Now tell me, what is going on at the boarding-house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will tell you," the fellow burst out excitedly. "I will have no +more to do with them, they are going too far. I don't want to lose my +life...."</p> + +<p>His eyes were bloodshot, and he tugged at his collar as though he felt +a halter round his neck already. He flung himself suddenly across +the table, and seized the journalist by the sleeve. "Help me," he +stammered, "I am afraid of them! Ortiz is coming, and he will ruin us +all, if nobody can stop him."</p> + +<p>Wallion looked sharply at him. He had already observed him in the +hotel, and had formed his conclusions as to the man's character. "Since +when have you made up your mind to betray Ortiz?"</p> + +<p>B.22 hung his head. "Since yesterday," he replied indistinctly. "When +Bernard Jenin told me what Tarraschin's memorandum was about, I was +afraid to have anything more to do with it—it is altogether too +ghastly...."</p> + +<p>He really seemed to be hesitating, and Wallion decided to come to +the point quickly, for there was no time to waste in unnecessary +preliminaries.</p> + +<p>"How much do you know about Ortiz?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I? Nothing. They told me that he was the boss, and that we were paid +with his money: and he pays well."</p> + +<p>Wallion made a movement of disgust. The payment seemed all that this +man cared about.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever seen Ortiz?"</p> + +<p>"No. Baron Fayerling always gave me my orders, and paid me. They say +that Ortiz is a rich and powerful man, and that he will soon be one of +the greatest persons in Europe. But I have never seen him, and I know +nothing of him."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am going to tell you something about him; it is because you +know so little that you are so much afraid of him. He is one of the +most daring adventurers that ever lived, and anyone who espouses his +cause is on the road to ruin."</p> + +<p>B.22 shuddered, and Wallion watched him narrowly.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever hear of the Emperor of the Amazons?" he asked.</p> + +<p>B.22 shook his head in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Emperor of the Amazons?" he repeated; "it sounds like a farce."</p> + +<p>"It was a farce, too, at any rate the newspapers called it so, and +it was played seven years ago. A young Brazilian millionaire who +had already made himself conspicuous by his lavish and eccentric +propensities, concluded one fine day that he could no longer endure the +restrictions of life in a community of law-abiding citizens, and his +fertile brain, which was always revolving ambitious schemes, decided to +create an absolutely new environment.</p> + +<p>"His name was Gabriel Napoleon Ortiz, and he was a reputed descendant +of Napoleon the Great; he had already been implicated in a formidable +scandal in Paris, where he had attempted to organize a Monarchist +rising against the Republic, in the hope of getting himself recognized +as Napoleon IV. At that time he was only a youth of nineteen, and it +was an easy matter to deport him to Brazil. But the lion's claws +were not drawn, and by degrees he gathered round him quite a number +of adventurers, who aided and abetted him in his far-reaching plans. +One day, early in 1910, he steamed away up the River Amazon in his +armored pleasure yacht, and disappeared into the interior of Brazil. +It was given out that he was subsidizing an expedition for scientific +research, but about six months later, the Brazilian Government was +astounded to receive a highly-imposing document, signed Gabriel +Napoleon I, Emperor of the Amazons, in which the new monarch stated +that he had proclaimed himself Emperor over the tracts of land at the +sources of the River Amazon, the country being rich and extensive, but +chiefly inhabited by Indians. He demanded, first, official recognition +by the Brazilian Government, secondly, free access to the River Amazon, +and thirdly, an immediate and definite revision of boundary questions. +At the same time, through the medium of the South and North American +newspapers, he invited enterprising and energetic people to settle +as colonists in his dominion, declared his intention of founding a +capital, and purchased six liners for passenger traffic down the great +river. Of course, the whole thing was impossible; nobody took the man +seriously, and the papers treated the matter as a huge joke; it was +altogether too far-fetched! Before many months had gone by, the Emperor +of the Amazons was taken into custody by Brazilian troops: he was found +at the head of an army of a hundred and twenty men, which immediately +took to flight. He was handed over to his relations, amongst whom was +the famous aëroplane-constructor Ortiz; feeling rather crestfallen, he +was obliged to consent to leave the country quietly, and nobody gave +another thought to the Empire of the Amazons."</p> + +<p>"Emperor of the Amazons," muttered B.22 with a laugh. "I do seem to +have a hazy recollection of it now. And so that man was Ortiz! I begin +to understand...."</p> + +<p>The journalist saw that his story had made an impression, and he +continued: "You will notice that this Brazilian millionaire-adventurer +was not without certain elements of greatness. Such causes as his +have prospered before now. It was only that he lived in an age when, +under normal circumstances, adventures of that kind are absurd. Public +opinion is formed by the Press, and the Press laughed the Empire of the +Amazons to scorn. Fifteen years earlier, the man might have succeeded, +but, as it was, he had learnt a dearly-bought lesson—till next time! +He had not abandoned a single detail of his great project, but he could +bide his time: he could go on with his preparations. The next act in +the drama was played in New York. Ortiz proved himself a financial +genius of the first order, floated one gigantic speculation after +another, with truly Napoleonic strategy, and was acclaimed before long +as one of Wall Street's brightest stars, or, more correctly, meteors. +Finally, he 'swung' a 'corner' in coffee with unscrupulous skill, +increased his already colossal fortune tenfold, and gained the nickname +of 'The Coffee King.' The Emperor of the Amazons had become a Coffee +King! At any rate, you can see what he was aiming at. As 'emperor' he +had brought imprisonment on at most forty persons; as 'king' he had +ruined thousands. His power for evil had increased, but it was not yet +fully developed, and the great opportunity was still to come. He does +not advance step by step, like other men. No, his ambition demands +constant movement, culminating in some tremendous display of strength. +His motto is: 'Better a grand catastrophe than a meagre victory.' Laws +do not exist for a man with such ideas, and what can those persons +expect who are bold enough to follow him as assistants or subordinates, +but a prison cell, or something even worse, for their pains?"</p> + +<p>B.22 was listening as though he had been hypnotized, and Wallion went +on: "After his 'coup' on the coffee market, Gabriel Ortiz disappeared +from New York. He realized his assets, and was seen no more in Wall +Street. He had attained his primary aim, and provided himself with +the means of carrying out even the wildest and most ambitious of his +dreams. The episode in the Amazons had taught him experience: in New +York he had acquired millions. He was now fully equipped, and only +waited for a favorable opportunity. In August, 1914, the Great War +broke out."</p> + +<p>The journalist sat silent and thoughtful for a little while. Then he +continued: "It is horrible to think that a Brazilian freebooter should +find the great chance of his lifetime in the grimmest tragedy that has +ever befallen the human race. It is true that in this war, as never +before, there have been openings for adventurers who are ready to sell +their swords or their skill to the highest bidder.</p> + +<p>"Within the war-area, where, as in an earthquake, all the powers +of darkness rise to the surface, Ortiz found the desired field of +operations, where he might sow his millions, and reap an abundant +harvest of power. After due calculation, he fixed upon Russia as his +objective, and Stockholm as his starting-point. How long have you been +in his service?"</p> + +<p>"Since October, 1915."</p> + +<p>"Nearly from the beginning, then. I can tell by your accent that you +are a Finn. I suppose they made you believe that you would be working +for the liberty of Finland?"</p> + +<p>"That was so," said B.22 in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Do you still think so, now that Finland is really free, in consequence +of the March Revolution? Was that Ortiz' work?"</p> + +<p>The man crimsoned with rage and shame. He struck his hand on the table, +and said: "No, since I got to know the contents of the Tarraschin +document, I can see that Ortiz is neither working for freedom nor for +the Tsar: he thinks only of himself."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Wallion, coldly, "and you should have realized that +long ago."</p> + +<p>"How could I?" replied B.22 piteously; "I knew nothing of him, until +you told me all this. What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"Don't take it so hard. You have been too easily tempted by the thought +of quickly earned money, that's all, and now you're in a fix. You +haven't told me yet what happened in the boarding-house."</p> + +<p>"I had only just got there," said B.22 excitedly, "when I heard the +telephone ring. One of the Russians answered it, and I was in the room +alongside. I guessed that Rastakov had rung up, and I heard the Russian +say: 'Yes, he has just come in.' They were speaking about me, and I +was alarmed to hear the man say: 'We had better shadow him; it would +be easier to get rid of him in Finland than here. Yes, we will keep an +eye on him; if he gives any trouble, we will find a way which won't +attract attention. No, he hasn't spoken to anyone yet....' Then I was +sure that my fate was sealed, and at first I felt paralyzed with fear, +but I knew that they would be after me in a few seconds, and, without +even stopping to get my knapsack, I crept downstairs, and out of the +house...."</p> + +<p>Wallion could not help pitying the poor fellow, who looked like a man +sentenced to death, and could hardly speak coherently.</p> + +<p>"Was that all?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It was quite enough for me; they mean to do something dreadful.... I +am not the first...."</p> + +<p>"I know. I will help you on one condition: has our conversation +convinced you how necessary it is for you to tell me honestly and +openly everything that may lead to the annihilation of Ortiz and his +gang?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, only tell me what I can do."</p> + +<p>"You won't only think of saving your own skin? You promise to help me +to the best of your ability?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, that's just what I want to do; only save me!"</p> + +<p>The man's sincerity was undoubted; Wallion's earnestness had entirely +conquered his feeble will. He gazed at the journalist with doglike +submission, whilst the latter wrote a few lines, and his address, on a +card.</p> + +<p>"Take this," he said, "go straight to my house in the Valhalla Road, +and hand the card to my housekeeper. Stay there till I come. Just wait +a minute, while I telephone to her."</p> + +<p>B.22 seized the card with an audible sigh of relief and gratitude. +The journalist went into the outer room, and rang up his house. The +housekeeper answered, and he informed her briefly what she was to do +with B.22, and what further precautions he must observe. Then, after a +little consideration, he rang up the offices of the <i>Daily Courier</i>, +and asked for Robert Lang, who came at once to the telephone. "Has +anyone been to ask for me?" said Wallion. "What? Leonard Grath? He's +just gone? What a nuisance, I wanted particularly to see him. Don't you +know where he has gone? He really is far too headstrong to be allowed +to go off by himself, you should have kept him. No, I can't come up at +present, I must go and see what the baron and Tassler are up to, but I +want you to come at once to Tegnér Street, and find out what is going +on at the boarding-house there, if you can. It is probable that we +shall soon have to give official information to the police; we ought +to have sufficient proof in our hands in a few hours' time. Look here: +before you leave the office, arrange for somebody trustworthy—say, +Steno Beyler—to receive a young man named Bernard Jenin, who may turn +up there in the course of the day, and not to let him out of his sight +before I have had a word with him. Yes, that's all, I can tell you more +later; I've a big job on hand at present...."</p> + +<p>He put down the receiver, and returned to the other room, but he +stopped short on the threshold: B.22 had disappeared. A door leading +to the passage stood open, and on the table lay a paper, with a few +hurried lines scrawled upon it. Wallion snatched it up, and ran into +the passage. After glancing into the garden, which was surrounded by +a high wall, he went out into the street, but B.22 was nowhere to be +seen. Feeling very anxious, the journalist read what was written on +the paper: "I must go. One of them is outside in the churchyard, and I +am sure he has seen me at the window. If they get to know that I have +anything to do with you, they will shoot me in the street. Expect me +early—about seven—to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>The journalist crumpled up the paper and put it in his pocket, after +which he lighted a cigarette. Not a single person was visible in the +whole length of the silent street.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Leonard Grath acts on his own responsibility, and meets with a girl +who runs away from him</i></h3> + + +<p>Leo left the problem-hunter's room like a man in a dream. It did not +occur to him to wait for Robert Lang's return, but when he got out into +the street, he found himself still holding the photograph in his hand. +Ought he not to put it back on Wallion's table? He looked hesitatingly +at it: "Sonia Bernin, the Copper House," he read once more. "So that's +Andrei Bernin's daughter. Well, there hasn't been such a beautiful girl +in the Copper House these last fifty years!" There spoke the artist; an +ordinary man would perhaps have called the girl striking, but certainly +not beautiful. Her face was not oval, but rather of an aquiline type; +her mouth was no Cupid's bow, but boyishly firm, above a self-willed +chin. But the large, dark eyes beneath their black, wing-like brows, +had a mysterious attraction for him—it seemed as though they were +calling to him, and the artist in him listened—who knows, perhaps the +man also!</p> + +<p>Burchardt's story, Wallion's warnings, vanished in a moment from Leo's +mind. He put the photograph into his pocket and made his way to the +general station, where he went up to the booking-office, and demanded: +"A single to Karkby." A philosopher could no doubt draw many ingenious +deductions from this simple action, knowing that it was to influence +his future to an extraordinary degree. But Leo, who was anything but a +philosopher, did not give the matter a thought, and, having received +a scrap of brown pasteboard in exchange for a few silver coins, he +made his way past all obstructions to the platform, where the train +for Nynäs stood blowing off steam. He studied with a critical eye +the effect of the sun shining through the puffs of steam, and made a +mental note of the colors, "Pink and silver in the sunlight, violet in +the shade." With that, he got into the train. He had chosen the last +compartment, which was still quite empty, but a minute later, one other +passenger entered, and sat quietly down opposite. He was a young or +middle-aged man, in a threadbare overcoat: his tired face was pale, +almost grayish, the eyes encircled with innumerable tiny wrinkles; +the neat leathern attaché-case which he carried in his hand seemed to +cause him some anxiety, for he evidently debated with himself whether +he should put it up in the rack, then cast an uneasy glance at Leo, +and finally decided to keep it on his knee. Leo's amused expression +appeared to embarrass the man, for he stared straight in front of +him, with that air of constraint which betrays that one feels oneself +under observation. At the same time, he seemed to be listening for +something outside, and Leo heard him give a little sigh of relief when +the train gave a sudden jerk, and steamed out of the station, with +rapidly-increasing speed. They were alone in the carriage, that is, in +their half of it, for it was divided into two sections, with a gangway +between. Leo's thoughts began to wander. He felt curious and rather +excited at the thought of what he should find when he arrived at the +Copper House. The recollection that he would soon have no right to go +there made him serious again. Take it all in all, he had certainly +been a thoughtless, easy-going fellow! In a flash of clear-sighted +self-criticism, he passed the last few years in review: gay parties +at the studio in Montmartre, seaside amusements at Ostend, yachting, +tennis and garden-parties in California—one long, sunny playtime in +company with other idlers, who talked a great deal, and accomplished +little. And now, what was the result? He must sell the Copper House, +and tune his life to a new key, with less play and more work ... it was +jolly hard lines!</p> + +<p>The conductor came round to clip the tickets, and as Leo put his back +into his pocket, his fingers came in contact with the photograph, and +he took it out for another look. Presently he heard a movement, and +the sound of a deep breath quite close to him, and he looked up. His +fellow-passenger had bent forward, and was gazing at the photograph +with wide-open eyes, but in a second he drew back, like a snail +into its shell, without meeting Leo's inquiring glance. The man sat +perfectly motionless, with his hands on his case, staring at the +opposite wall as before, but his lips were twitching, and his face, as +Leo put it to himself, had no more color in it than a pencil drawing. +All of a sudden Leo remembered Wallion's warning, the disappearance of +his pocket-book, the man with the camera, and Burchardt's anxious face. +He felt convinced that the strange figure opposite had been desperately +startled by the sight of the photograph, and he began to feel a chill +suspicion that he was somehow or other getting entangled in a huge net, +which was gradually tightening its meshes round him. What was up? Was +everybody going crazy?</p> + +<p>He resolved to say something, but changed his mind as hastily, for the +other man looked as impassive as an image of Buddha. The situation was +becoming awkward, and meanwhile the train rattled on towards Nynäs +and the sea. Leo quitted the field, and took refuge at the nearest +passage-window. Refreshed by the strong sea-breeze, he made a laudable +attempt to sum up the experiences of this eventful day, but soon tired +of this, and began instead to gaze aimlessly at the passing landscape. +Could he have guessed that the most eventful part of the day was still +to come, he would perhaps have jumped out of the train then and there, +and returned to Stockholm; but, not being endowed with second-sight, +he alighted calmly at Karkby station. The first person he saw as he +reached the platform was the stranger with the attaché-case, who left +the train at the same time by another door. Leo saw him go up to the +pointsman and address him in good Swedish. Seeing a look of surprise +pass over the pointsman's face, the young man could not repress his +curiosity but strolled past them, and heard the pointsman exclaim: +"Well, if it's to the Copper House you are going, I doubt if you'll +find yourself very welcome."</p> + +<p>"You think not?" said the man, in a low, nervous voice; "may I venture +to ask why?"</p> + +<p>"We never hear of there being any entertaining out there nowadays: a +nice sort of life they must lead. If it was a monastery they couldn't +shut themselves up more," added the pointsman mysteriously, as he +watched the train disappear round a curve.</p> + +<p>"A pack of foreigners, too; I suppose it's this here wretched war which +brings them over. Sweden's full of these heathen now, and they have to +have bread-tickets.... Well, if you must go to the Copper House, it +will take you the best part of half an hour to walk it...."</p> + +<p>Leo walked on out of earshot, and did not feel inclined to pass them +again, as he wished to avoid recognition. He crossed the railway, and +walked slowly past some newly-built villas, and the old deaf florist's +green-house ("wonder if the old boy is still alive?"). As he reached +the outskirts of the wood, he turned round and saw the man with the +case walking about a hundred yards behind him, like a gray shadow on +the white road. The fellow, like himself, was really on the way to +the Copper House, then? He looked down at the dark, solitary figure, +approaching in the sunshine, and wondered what he had better do: leave +things as they were, or force a closer acquaintance. But he was not +called upon to make a decision after all, for the other left the road +suddenly, leapt over a ditch, and vanished into the woods.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later, Leo stood outside the so-called Karka +gates. And here we must insert a bit of topography which will help our +readers to a clearer understanding of the events which followed.</p> + +<p>The port and watering-place of Nynäs is, so to speak, Stockholm's most +southerly outpost on the Baltic Sea, as Saltsjöbaden and Sandhamn are +its most easterly ones. The Nynäs railway runs throughout the length +of Söderström which lies between those two points, and the nearer it +gets to Nynäs, the narrower grows the hilly country between the railway +and the sea. As Karkby is one of the last stations before Nynäs, one +can easily reach the shore by walking for about half an hour in an +easterly direction. But, as the railway is a fairly recent innovation, +anyone who starts to walk, soon strikes the old main-road to Stockholm +(nowadays practically disused), and, by following it, he will come +suddenly upon the entrance to Karka, rising, as if by magic, out of +the deserted landscape. It is a ruinous archway, with rusty iron +gates, and a porter's lodge, behind which a carriage-road winds up +through an avenue of ancient trees. No house is visible, but this is +the boundary of the Graths' ancestral property, Karka, which occupies +a considerable portion of land between the sea and the road. It is +strangely impressive to see, in the midst of the wooded country, this +once stately entrance left desolate and crumbling, like a monument to +the wealth and prosperity of former times.</p> + +<p>What was the state of affairs at the Copper House, as the whole +property was generally called, from the appearance of the house itself, +we shall tell in due time.</p> + +<p>Leonard Grath, its present owner (and that only in name), stood outside +the gates, and looked through the bars. Outside the porter's lodge sat +a man cleaning a double-barreled gun; he did not look up.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, there!" cried the young man cheerily, "just let me in, there's +a good chap."</p> + +<p>The fellow looked into the road with evident surprise; he had a +swarthy, sunburnt face.</p> + +<p>"Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded roughly, and without +getting up.</p> + +<p>"I am Leonard Grath, the owner of the Copper House, and I want to come +in."</p> + +<p>The man stared at Leo with an insolent grin, and said: "Indeed, you +want to come in, do you? Why not say at once that you are the Emperor +of China?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you hear me say that this place belongs to me? Open the gate +at once, man!" exclaimed Leo angrily, and shaking the locked gate +violently. The porter slipped a cartridge into his gun, and laid the +weapon across his knees.</p> + +<p>"Don't you go trying that on," said he. "If you are the owner, you are +in California, and I guess you won't mind if I send a charge of shot in +your direction...."</p> + +<p>He cocked his gun and raised it.</p> + +<p>"Be off, now," he added, "we are tired of sending strangers off the +place."</p> + +<p>Leo returned his look, and retired unwillingly, but he could not help +laughing: the situation struck him as supremely ridiculous.</p> + +<p>"You may see my papers," said he.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk to me of your papers!" replied the man, following up his +words with a most unexpected action. Raising the gun, and without +getting up, he fired. The range was too short for the shot to spread, +but Leo saw chips of mortar fly from the gateway.</p> + +<p>"You—you scoundrel!" he burst out in amazement. "What do you mean by +that?"</p> + +<p>The man loaded again, without a word. They looked at one another; Leo +opened his mouth, closed it again, and returned to the road: he was not +inclined to laugh any longer. He walked cautiously alongside the iron +palings, for he knew that they came to an end about a hundred yards +further on, where a rustic fence took their place. When he was out of +sight from the gate, he clambered over the fence, and found himself +at length on his own property, with every inch of which he had been +familiar since childhood. He made his way up a slope, and came to a +small pine wood, which, after a little consideration, he entered by a +well-worn path. Suddenly he stopped, and drew a deep breath. "Home!" he +said aloud. The thought filled him with ecstasy; he had not expected +that the sight of this old-world, sun-steeped spot would move him so +deeply, and he sat down on a stone to recover himself. To think that he +was really home again, and that, in another ten minutes, he would be +inside the Copper House! Forgetting everything else, he sprang up, and +set off with swift, eager steps in the direction of a field which could +be seen through the trees.</p> + +<p>At that minute he heard a light footstep on the path ahead of him, and +a girl in a black riding-habit came running towards him, looking behind +her at every few steps. Two men with guns slung at their backs could be +seen some way off on the left, hastening with long strides, as though +to intercept her. The girl uttered a cry, as the two men leapt down on +the path just in front of her, and seized her by the arms. She easily +shook them off, and her riding-whip left a red wheal on the face of the +nearest. They said something in a rough voice, and the girl cried out +angrily: "I shall go where I like, you have no right...."</p> + +<p>"You be quiet, now, Miss, and go home to your Papa," said one of the +men, not uncivilly; and he lifted her up, and began to carry her back +along the same path by which they had come. She broke loose, and +struck him again across the face. The pain made him furious, and with +a shout, he pushed her violently away. By this time Leo had come up. +"We don't treat women like that, in this part of the world," said he, +pushing the fellow aside with a shove of his broad shoulder. The second +man reached for his gun, but Leo twisted the weapon out of his hands, +and motioned him back. "Keep still!" he ordered.</p> + +<p>The girl had recovered herself, and looked at him in silence. She +appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen, and the young man +immediately recognized the dark beauty of the photograph. He raised his +hat.</p> + +<p>"Miss Bernin, I believe? My name is Leonard Grath."</p> + +<p>As the girl stood looking uneasily at him, with a curious blank +expression in her big brown eyes, he added hastily: "Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>She came up to him, laid both hands on his arm, and said in a low tone: +"Go! Go back the way you came!"</p> + +<p>Leo glanced at the two men, who stood a little way off between him and +the path, watching him attentively.</p> + +<p>"What are those two fellows doing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"They are two of the forest-guards," answered the girl, "but do, do go +away!"</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" said Leo, with a pang of annoyance and disappointment. +"I have a right to come here, haven't I?"</p> + +<p>He offered her his arm, rather ironically, and added: "Although I seem +to be so unwelcome, allow me to escort you to the Copper House; I am +just on my way there."</p> + +<p>The girl colored, bit her lip, and, turning round, she walked away. +One of the men laughed, and Leo said sharply, glad of the opportunity +to give vent to the wrath that was boiling within: "Be quiet, if you +don't want me to thrash you off the premises! I have evidently arrived +unexpectedly, but I haven't begun yet. Just wait a bit, and you'll see!"</p> + +<p>The two men gave no sign that they had heard what he had said. Leo +threw down the gun, turned his back, and followed the girl. When he +caught her up, she hung her head, and he saw that she was very pale. He +fell into step at her left side, but she walked on as though she was +alone.</p> + +<p>"There seem to be great changes here," he remarked, without taking any +notice of her attitude. "The Copper House was always famous for its +hospitality, but now it seems that it won't even admit its own master."</p> + +<p>He paused, but there was no reply.</p> + +<p>"As for forest-guards," he continued, "such luxuries have been +superfluous in these woods for many years past. I suppose you keep them +to look after the squirrels? At any rate, one of them evidently took me +for a squirrel...."</p> + +<p>He described, with a sort of bitter enjoyment, the episode at the gate. +Quite unexpectedly the girl burst into tears and he looked at her with +sudden remorse.</p> + +<p>"I am a brute," he muttered. "Miss Bernin, for Heaven's sake, look at +me, you can see and hear that I'm only an awful idiot. Please do laugh +at me instead!"</p> + +<p>There was a sort of tearful laugh, then a sob, and finally the laugh +won the day. The girl looked up at him, and dried her eyes with a +little silk handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"It is silly to cry," she remarked seriously. "Were you very surprised?"</p> + +<p>"Not so very," he assured her. "Young ladies are allowed to shed a few +tears now and then, aren't they? It is perfectly natural...."</p> + +<p>"I have forgotten to thank you," she said, with a little bow. "It +wasn't as dangerous as it looked, but you came up at the right moment. +You see, my father and my aunt are very strict, and occasionally I +rebel, and the authorities send out the squirrel-police to quell the +disturbance. You arrived on the final scene of a domestic crisis...."</p> + +<p>The little lady was chattering away in the liveliest fashion with +quick, bird-like movements of her uncovered, dark head, which made the +jet earrings that she wore dance and quiver. She stepped out like a +boy, with a quick, firm tread, swinging her riding-whip.</p> + +<p>"You say now that I came at the right minute," said Leo reproachfully, +"but just before that you told me to go away!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you mean to?" she asked, with a rapid glance from a pair of eyes +that just then struck him as being as dark as night.</p> + +<p>"Not unless you ask me to again," he replied boldly.</p> + +<p>The girl stopped and turned round. "Things haven't altered, you know," +she said, and walked on. Leo looked round also. The two forest-guards +were still standing amongst the trees, looking down at them, but a +third had joined them, and each of the three men held his gun in his +hands.</p> + +<p>The young man felt a little shiver pass through him. Ahead of him, +though still some way off, he could see the greater part of the old +avenue, which stretched for more than a mile from Karka gates to the +house itself, which was still hidden behind some rising ground to the +left. He thought he caught sight of two or three figures patrolling +the avenue under the shade of the trees, but they vanished before he +was quite certain. He began to wonder whether the girl by his side +had given him the full explanation of the scene in the wood, but his +thoughts took another turn, for now, through the thick foliage, he had +a glimpse of the ponderous gables of the house, looking as though they +were moulded in green copper. The house, at all events, had not changed +in appearance. He stopped on the terrace with its crumbling balustrade, +and his eyes drank in the familiar scene, till the dust of years was +blown away, and he was a boy once more. There was the square, massive +building, its walls weather-stained and gray with age, supporting the +steep copper-sheathed roof, which, from its queer slope, seemed half +as high as the house, and looked like a mediæval helmet, profaned by +two tiers of windows; there were the two copper statues of Fortune with +her cornucopia, and Mercury with his winged heels, a forgotten figure +on either side of the steps, gazing blankly and silently at one another +from their never-changing positions.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>In which it is obvious that the owner is a guest in his own house</i></h3> + + +<p>Leonard Grath entered the Copper House like a visitor, hat in hand. A +sunbeam lay right across the polished oak floor of the hall, and in the +middle of the patch of light stood a tall, old lady, as upright as a +grenadier, and as thin and dark as a Bedouin, who fixed a penetrating +glance upon the new-comer. She went on crocheting a piece of lace, the +other end of which was hidden in an old-fashioned basket-work satchel +that hung on her left arm.</p> + +<p>Leo stopped short, as though her look was an actual barrier, and bowed.</p> + +<p>"Sonia Andreievna," said the old lady, in the tone of a drill sergeant +on parade, "where have you been?"</p> + +<p>The girl shot a covert glance at the young man, and threw down her +riding-whip.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Lona," she replied meekly, "this gentleman has just been mistaken +for a squirrel...."</p> + +<p>"Sonia Andreievna" ... the sharp voice interrupted, "speak sensibly; +you know that I detest riddles."</p> + +<p>"My name is Leonard Grath," the latter interposed, hastily, bowing +again and feeling somewhat embarrassed.</p> + +<p>The crochet-needles came to a standstill, and their owner took two +strides towards him, and stared unblinkingly into his eyes. He noticed +that, in spite of her iron-gray hair and lean, dried-up looks, she +could hardly be more than sixty. Her imperious eyes still flashed with +youthful energy, every movement betokened strength, and her whole +bearing was that of a well-bred lady, even though she might be a bit +of a martinet. Like her niece, she was plainly dressed in black, with +white ruffles, and a necklace of jet beads, which clicked gently as she +moved.</p> + +<p>"Leonard Grath," she echoed; "the owner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am afraid I have arrived rather unexpectedly, and if I have in +any way...."</p> + +<p>"Sonia Andreievna! pick up your whip at once" (the young man was quite +startled) "and put it in its place. Yes, Mr. Grath, I cannot deny that +you <i>have</i> taken us by surprise."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, I certainly never meant...."</p> + +<p>"Sonia Andreievna! Do you see what time it is? Have I not told you a +thousand times that we have a fixed hour for dinner?"</p> + +<p>Her remarks seemed to Leo to be emphasized by a perfect regiment of +exclamation-points, and he did not wonder that the girl darted away +like an arrow from a bow. But to his surprise, no sooner were they +alone, than the old lady's tone became almost cordial.</p> + +<p>"I am Lona Ivanovna Bernin, and as your tenant I bid you welcome to the +Copper House. You will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner? +Good, let us have a cigarette while we are waiting."</p> + +<p>Still wondering, Leo allowed himself to be ushered to an armchair in +the familiar old Empire drawing-room on the left side of the hall. +Lona Ivanovna offered him a cigarette case, and herself took a Russian +cigarette, which she lighted with one hand. Leo was thinking what to +say next, when she forestalled him.</p> + +<p>"Have you come from abroad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, from California."</p> + +<p>"Ah, California; a magnificent climate, I believe. No doubt you have +become tired of living out there?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, but I felt inclined to come home."</p> + +<p>"Hm—Do you think of making a long stay?"</p> + +<p>"That depends. You see, it isn't a question of climate, exactly...."</p> + +<p>She pursed up her mouth and frowned.</p> + +<p>"In my opinion, the climate of California is far preferable," she +remarked, looking sharply at him.</p> + +<p>"Very possibly, but this visit will be quite a change for me."</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there is so much that is new, I mean ... a whole lot of +strange ... well, in short...."</p> + +<p>Leo stopped short in confusion, and puffed away furiously at his +cigarette. The old lady blew a perfect ring, looked quizzically at him +through it, and said dryly: "Young man, whatever you do, don't go and +fall in love with Sonia!"</p> + +<p>Leo stared dumbfounded at his cigarette. The conversation dropped, and +silence reigned in the room, broken only by the buzzing of a stray bee +on the window pane.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Dinner was over, and Leonard Grath the richer by several experiences. +First of all, he had proved the truth of the old adage that: "guests +are hosts in the host's house," for was not he a guest and stranger, +and moreover a thoroughly unwelcome one, in his own home? It seemed to +him as though the girl and her aunt took it in turns to keep an eye on +him: he could see them exchanging glances and whispers whose meaning +was unintelligible to him, and, what struck him as strangest of all, +in the whole of that spacious house and its adjoining buildings there +appeared to be no living creature except the two ladies. He inquired, +as a matter of politeness, for Mr. Andrei Bernin, who was stated to be +in bed in his own room, and far too unwell to see the honored guest.</p> + +<p>As soon as the dinner was over, Sonia, obeying a signal from her aunt, +proposed a turn round the garden, and the two young people strolled +along for a while in silence. It was getting towards sunset, and the +rural orchestra was in full chorus: birds were fluting in a medley of +youthful emulation, bumble-bees droned in their drowsy baritones, +and in the grass the crickets added their violin notes to the evening +concert.</p> + +<p>Now that Sonia Bernin in the flesh was alongside of him, Leo found her +ten times more interesting than when he had first seen her portrait on +Wallion's table; her boyish unconstraint, added to a lissom, almost +kitten-like grace, and her ready wit, gave him a delightful sensation +of comradeship—but the minute he attempted to strike a note of +intimacy, he ran up against a barrier of chilly reserve, and the pose +of the boyish, black head became all of a sudden alarmingly ladylike. +Whatever the reason might be, she appeared totally unimpressed by his +masculine superiority, and this was a very novel experience for the +spoilt young man.</p> + +<p>At length he remarked: "I had thought of staying some time at the +Copper House, but it seems to me I am rather 'de trop' here."</p> + +<p>She twisted a leaf between her lips like a cigarette: "How so?" she +inquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no doubt about it. The man at the gate showed it quite +unmistakably—for one."</p> + +<p>"With his gun, you mean? It <i>was</i> too bad; but you see, he naturally +took you for an impostor, having heard that the owner of the Copper +House was in America. I expect he will be discharged, in any case," she +added.</p> + +<p>"And you told me yourself to go away, as soon as ever you knew who I +was," he continued.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it kind of me to warn you, when it is so dull here?" laughed +the girl.</p> + +<p>"It is not dull here, and that is not why you warned me," he retorted. +She looked up, and their eyes met: for the second time that day, Leo +saw hers dilate and darken. She did not reply, but hurried on a little, +as though to evade him, but he kept step with her, and proceeded:</p> + +<p>"As you know, your father wants to buy this property; it is a pity I +can't have a talk with him about it. Your aunt is reticent, and you are +mysterious. Won't you have a little pity on me?"</p> + +<p>They had walked to the top of a slight rise, from which they could see +down the greater part of the avenue. The girl stood still, panting a +little. Suddenly she asked:</p> + +<p>"Have you seen Mr. Tassler?"</p> + +<p>Leo shook his head, and they were silent again. The girl seemed to +be listening to something, rather uneasily. Far off in the sunlit +stillness a rhythmical throbbing sound became audible; it approached +with uncanny rapidity, getting louder every minute, then suddenly +ceased altogether.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear that?" whispered the girl.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered. "A motor cycle has apparently stopped at Karka +gates; it's a pity we can't see them from here, it must be someone from +Stockholm."</p> + +<p>As he said this, he remembered the young man with the attaché-case, +whom he had so unintentionally startled with Sonia's photograph, but +as he was about to tell her of the occurrence, there was a dramatic +interruption. A shot was fired at the gate, and it was followed by a +long, thrilling cry. A few seconds later, a man came dashing up the +avenue as though he was running for his life. Leo at once recognized +his fellow passenger, and the girl cried out in a voice of terrified +dismay: "Sergius, Sergius!"</p> + +<p>The fugitive raised his face, which was deathly pale, and without +stopping, he exclaimed: "Rastakov!"</p> + +<p>The girl turned round to Leo, and said in a rapid stifled voice: "Hide +yourself; and, mind, you have seen nothing!"</p> + +<p>With that, she sprang down from the little hill, followed by the +fugitive, and both disappeared. Almost immediately afterwards, two more +men came running up the avenue: one was the porter who had threatened +Leo with the same gun that he still carried in his hand, the other was +a tall fellow, dressed as a motor cyclist. They also vanished in the +direction of the house.</p> + +<p>Without further delay, Leo hastened back along the same path by which +he had come, and in five seconds he came in sight of the terrace in +front of the Copper House. He saw the man with the case run up the +steps, hesitate for a moment, then dash into the house. The girl +followed on his heels, and the porter and the cyclist reached the +terrace to find it deserted. Then, as though by the touch of a magic +wand, some more men appeared from both sides of the house. These, with +the two men already mentioned, made a party of nine, of whom four +carried guns. They approached the house at the double. The cyclist +called out some order in a commanding voice, and began to mount the +terrace-steps. Leo reached the spot at the same moment, and exclaimed: +"What's wrong?"</p> + +<p>The motor cyclist took no notice of him.</p> + +<p>Again a shot rang out, this time inside the Copper House; most of the +men had passed out of earshot on the other side of the house, but the +cyclist, the porter, and one other unknown man, ran into the hall, +together with Leo.</p> + +<p>The old lady advanced to meet them, with a revolver in her hand. She +looked firmly and menacingly at the intruder and said: "Rastakov, did I +invite you to come in?"</p> + +<p>The cyclist halted.</p> + +<p>"Who fired, Lona Ivanovna?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Whom do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know perfectly well, that thief Bernard Jenin; what have you +done with him?"</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna thrust the revolver into her workbag, looked resignedly +at the cyclist, and said: "You may look for him."</p> + +<p>Leo, who understood nothing of this hurried interchange of questions, +looked on bewildered. Rastakov caught sight of the fugitive's case +lying open on the floor, caught it up, and flung it against the wall +with an oath, for it was empty.</p> + +<p>"I will have him, dead or alive," he shouted, "and the damned document +too!"</p> + +<p>He ran half-way up the stairs to the first floor, but turned round as +though he had remembered something.</p> + +<p>"And what's more," he cried across the hall, "I know how pigheaded you +are, Lona Ivanovna! All right, if you would rather have the Chief to +deal with, just let me know! But beware of meddling with Tarraschin's +memorandum, for it means death!"</p> + +<p>With that, he disappeared. Lona Ivanovna took Leo by the arm, and drew +him with unexpected force, though not unkindly, into the dining-room +after her.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a case for the police?" he began.</p> + +<p>"Don't mix yourself up in this," she said kindly. "Sonia, they want +to search the house: you must see that Mr. Grath is spared hearing +anything more of Rastakov...."</p> + +<p>Sonia came up to them; she was very pale, but quite composed; the +boyish look had vanished, and she answered quietly: "If Mr. Grath is +determined to stay, I am afraid he will be obliged to see a good deal +both of Rastakov and of Baron Fayerling."</p> + +<p>The two women looked expectantly at him. They could hear the hasty +steps of the searchers echoing through the whole house.</p> + +<p>"I should like to know who this Rastakov is, that he takes so much upon +himself in a house where my honored guests are staying," said Leo, +emphasizing the word 'guests'—"neither have I heard anything of Baron +Fayerling. But I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of anyone who +is good enough to honor the Copper House with his presence."</p> + +<p>He was quite aware that his tone was not courteous, in spite of the +formality of his speech, but he was thoroughly roused. He could see +now, as though a curtain had been drawn back, that these people, +whose strange dark faces were stamped with furtive menace, were the +mysterious offspring of the lurid shadows of the World War.</p> + +<p>He thought of the panic-stricken fugitive whom he had just seen flying +for his life; of the shot which had so recently rung through the house: +of Lona Ivanovna with the revolver in her hand. The frenzied search +was still progressing overhead; footsteps and voices echoed through +the passages. "Living or dead!" As Rastakov's words recurred to Leo's +mind, he was seized with the horrible conviction that murder had been +committed already: what ought he to do?</p> + +<p>The two women were watching his face as though they longed to read his +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Your room is quite ready," said the elder one gravely.</p> + +<p>Before Leo had decided what to answer, he found himself alone. He +began to pace up and down in great perturbation. He could see one of +the men, with his gun, outside on the terrace, silhouetted against the +rosy, sunset sky. For the last few minutes, such a silence had fallen, +that he could have fancied himself alone in the house. He listened +attentively, but could hear nothing. His thoughts circled irresolutely +over what had occurred, but he could find no explanation of it, and +began to feel more and more uneasy. An hour passed by, the shadows +lengthened and still no sound broke the stillness. Was no one coming +back?</p> + +<p>At last he could bear the suspense no longer, and he went into the +hall. He could still see, through the glass doors, the armed sentry on +the terrace, but inside the house all was empty and silent. He went +from one room to another, and ran upstairs to the first floor, but not +a soul did he meet. The thought that the fugitive was perhaps lying +dead, huddled away in some dark corner, obsessed him like a nightmare, +and his limbs trembled as though with fever. Suddenly a sort of panic +came over him, he ran breathlessly up another flight of stairs, burst +open the door of his bedroom, and shut it after him with a bang that +resounded through the house. Leaning against the door, and alone in the +little room, where everything was just as it always had been since his +earliest childhood, and where he had dreamed so many boyish dreams, he +breathed again.</p> + +<p>"Have I gone mad?" he asked himself. "What is going on here? The +Problem-hunter was right, the Copper House is full of mysteries!"</p> + +<p>He looked round for some water, for his lips felt parched, but there +was none in the room. "Can they have killed him!" he thought. "And is +it possible that I have stood by, without moving a finger, and allowed +a man to be done to death!"</p> + +<p>At last he heard a door creak outside, and he peeped out into the dusky +corridor. The door of the spare bedroom at the other end of the passage +was opening slowly, an inch at a time, and he could see first a feeble, +bony hand, and then a stooping figure outlined against the window +behind.</p> + +<p>The figure moved uncertainly, groping with a stick along the edge of +the carpet, and walked with short, senile steps towards the stairs. Leo +watched him narrowly, trying to get a glimpse of his face; he thought +he could make out a short white beard and straggling white hair under a +velvet skull-cap, and the glimmer of a pair of blue spectacles. A blind +man! In an instant he realized that his wealthy tenant, Andrei Bernin, +was before him for the first time. The old man seemed to hesitate, +and called softly: "Sonia!" but receiving no answer, he finally went +towards the staircase, tapping with his stick at every step. Leo could +hear his quavering voice calling to Lona Ivanovna, the sound getting +fainter as it receded. There was something so eerie about those feeble +tones, uttered in the silent, lonely house at nightfall, that the young +man, with a shudder, shut himself into his room again. After a minute +he double-locked the door, and went over to the open window. The sky +had faded to sulphur-yellow in the west, and night was closing in, +cool and dim, over the countryside. A soft breeze was blowing in from +the sea. He heard the crunching of gravel under his window, and leaned +out. Two figures passed beneath, one of whom pointed upwards, and said +something in an imperious tone. Leo fancied he recognized Rastakov's +voice.</p> + +<p>They knew, then, that he was in his bedroom, and they were keeping +an eye on him! The conviction awakened fresh misgivings. He sat down +on the bed, and buried his head in his hands. Was he afraid? Yes, he +had to confess that he <i>was</i> afraid, because there was nobody within +reach in whom he could confide, or whom he could ask for advice.... The +Problem-hunter! He sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, he had climbed down the thick clumsy copper +gutter-spout, with the same soundless agility, and the same intense +excitement as had characterized such escapades twenty years ago. He +expected to be halted by a challenge from the shadowy avenue, but +none came, and the owner of Copper House crept away like a Red Indian +through the trees into the wood. Three times he caught a glimpse of +the dark forms of the men whom Sonia Bernin called forest-guards, +but, lucky for once, he did not attract their notice. When he turned +round, he could see in the far distance, behind the top of the massive +pile of the Copper House, a flickering, bluish glimmer, which seemed +to come from the direction of the Bay. He did not venture to delay +that he might investigate the source of this unusual light.... When he +strung himself aboard the last train to Stockholm, which was already +moving out of Karkby, he was gasping for breath, and drenched with +perspiration.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>The Problem-hunter</i></h3> + + +<p>It was past midnight, when a young man, evidently dead-tired, and +looking thoroughly exhausted, entered the office of the night Editor +of the <i>Daily Courier</i>, and asked to see Maurice Wallion. The night +Editor, a somewhat callous personage, looked at him without any special +interest.</p> + +<p>"Wallion?" he answered dryly. "He's not here."</p> + +<p>"Where can I find him?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can tell you—we haven't seen him ourselves! There +is just one chance in a thousand that he's at home, but if he is, he +doesn't answer the telephone, anyway—I have tried! He won't be best +pleased when he sees how his office here has been turned upside down."</p> + +<p>"Upside down?"</p> + +<p>"That's putting it mildly. You might tell him, if you find him, +that his room looks as though a squad of small hurricanes had been +performing war-dances in it, and that nobody knows how or when. Here's +his address, if you really feel you want the exercise of a night ramble +from here to Valhalla Road."</p> + +<p>The Editor pushed a scrap of paper into Leo's hand, and showed him out +with a polite, though rather suggestive, zeal.</p> + +<p>The young man stood for a while in the deserted street, to collect his +thoughts. He also turned up his coat-collar, for the keen air made him +shiver after his exertions in the wood; and with a gesture of undaunted +resolution, he started on his pilgrimage through the shadowy wilderness +of stone, beneath the rows of extinguished street lamps.</p> + +<p>Women accosted him with inviting glances and alluring voices: and knots +of revelers passed him with discordant bursts of laughter; further on, +a policeman with his hands behind him, stood gazing after him.</p> + +<p>These shadows, appearing and vanishing in the mists of night, recalled +the events of the last few hours, as did the glaring, owl-like orbs of +the clock-tower, and he hastened his steps, breaking into an occasional +run.</p> + +<p>When he at last reached the broad, lonely Valhalla Road, past the +Stadion and the barracks, his clothes were clinging to him, and he +was quite out of breath. It now occurred to him for the first time, +that the outer door of the block of flats, in one of which the +Problem-hunter lived, would probably be locked, but when he arrived +there, he saw that it was partly open, and, without stopping to +consider the reason for this, he ran quickly up the stairs....</p> + +<p>He came to a standstill before the folding-doors, which bore a brass +plate with the name of Maurice Wallion. One of the doors stood ajar, +and on the stone floor of the lobby were scattered several splinters of +white wood. He heard the stairs creaking on the next landing, as though +someone were making his escape that way, startled by his unexpected +arrival. All was dark in front of him, but he pushed the door open and +stepped over the threshold.</p> + +<p>A hand hovered above his head like a swooping hawk and seized him by +the neck. The owner of the hand came out from behind the door, and a +strong voice said mockingly in his ear: "Come along in, young fellow! +No, don't struggle, I've been waiting for you impatiently. I can't say +you are much of a hand at forcing a Yale lock, it has taken you the +best part of half an hour—and now—glad to see you, take a seat!"</p> + +<p>With what seemed to Leo superhuman strength, he was lifted up and flung +headlong into a corner, where he fell on to a heap of something soft, +clothes evidently. The electric light was turned on with a click, and +he saw bending over him a tall man in shooting costume. A pair of keen +gray eyes, that sparkled with energy and humor, were peering down at +him, and Leo guessed instinctively who this must be.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mr. Wallion," he said. "Pleased to meet you...."</p> + +<p>"It's you, is it?" answered the Problem-hunter, without seeming in the +least taken aback. "Why are you sitting there?"</p> + +<p>Leo got up.</p> + +<p>"I was under the impression that there was an earthquake just as I came +in, but perhaps I was mistaken!"</p> + +<p>"It was I who was mistaken, my dear Mr. Grath. One of Baron Fayerling's +aides-de-camp has been playing about with the lock of my door +for the last half-hour, and I have been standing behind the door +waiting—naturally they thought I was out—and just as he was on +the point of getting in, you interrupted him, and fell into my trap +instead...."</p> + +<p>The Problem-hunter broke off, and sprang to the door, but at the same +instant, they heard a terrific clattering down the stairs, and the +outer door at the bottom was banged to.</p> + +<p>"He had evidently no wish to wait, when he knew that I was at home," +remarked Wallion. "I must really beg your pardon for the very rough +reception I gave you just now. The blackguard, he has quite ruined this +lock: however, that's easily remedied—just a minute, and then we shall +be able to have our little chat in comfort."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he was quickly and deftly screwing a strong bolt on the +door.</p> + +<p>"There, that will do. Now, will you come this way?"</p> + +<p>They went into the study, and Wallion lighted a lamp with a yellow +shade, that stood upon his writing-table.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you are very much surprised at my knowing you again," +inquired Wallion, looking with interest, though not disconcertingly so, +at his belated visitor, whilst he brought out the ingredients for a +refreshing drink of "Johnnie Walker" and soda, fetched cigarettes, and +drew the curtains. "You see, I got to know what you looked like as much +as three months ago...."</p> + +<p>"That didn't surprise me so much," said Leo, who felt quite revived, as +he glanced round him at the comfortable room, with its bookshelves and +tables. "But how on earth did you know that I was coming to Stockholm? +Not two months ago, I hadn't an idea of it myself!"</p> + +<p>"A sudden fancy, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, something put it into my mind, I don't know exactly what...."</p> + +<p>"And the minute you get back, you find yourself in a whirlpool of the +most extraordinary events?"</p> + +<p>"Extraordinary hardly expresses them!"</p> + +<p>Maurice Wallion smiled, and sat down opposite Leo.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I owe you another apology," said he. "So you don't exactly +know why you came to Stockholm? I can tell you—it was to help me. Yes, +I know, you will say that you were not even aware of my existence, +until you got my letter in Burchardt's office. No matter. I knew that +you were in Los Angeles, where you were not required, and that you +ought to be in Stockholm, where you were not expected. If I had written +direct to you, and asked you to come, you would certainly have treated +it as a joke, especially as I could have given you no reasonable +explanation—just then.</p> + +<p>"But do you remember Mrs. Gregory at Los Angeles? Do you remember how +often she turned the conversation latterly on the Copper House, what +interest she showed in it, how she drew you on to give her such glowing +descriptions of it that you began to feel quite home-sick? And how, +by degrees, she inspired you with the idea of a voyage home, without +further delay. Don't you remember all that?"</p> + +<p>"Now you mention it—yes, I believe it really was that pretty Mrs. +Gregory who put the journey into my head."</p> + +<p>"You see, during my travels, I made friends in all sorts of places. +There were you in Los Angeles; I ransacked my memory—ha! Mrs. +Gregory!—capital, an intelligent lady, a regular diplomat. I sent her +an elaborate telegram. Can you forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Mr. Wallion," replied Leo at once; "I am flattered, delighted! +We must be friends now, and don't, whatever happens, spirit me back to +California, before you have explained how I have become the object of +such unbounded interest."</p> + +<p>"In your capacity as owner of the Copper House."</p> + +<p>"I haven't been a great success so far, in that line," remarked Leo. +"When I tell you that I have been as good as turned out of it...."</p> + +<p>He broke off his sentence in rather guilty confusion, at an +unexpectedly piercing look from the other.</p> + +<p>"Have you been there already, in spite of my warning?"</p> + +<p>The young man nodded.</p> + +<p>"And the immediate result is this nocturnal visit?" continued Wallion. +"So you have been there? I was wondering all the time what could have +happened to agitate you so much; I might have realized that you are one +of those folks who never take advice.... Well, never mind, I am rather +reluctant to take it myself, without knowing the reason for it. What +did you see, to scare you so desperately?"</p> + +<p>At this question, a sort of panic terror overwhelmed Leo. He saw once +more the fugitive stumbling into the hall: he heard the shot ring out. +He faltered: "I believe that a man has been killed—shot—at the Copper +House; they didn't want me to see...."</p> + +<p>Wallion bent down and looked into the young man's eyes, as a doctor +would examine his patient.</p> + +<p>"Tell me all about it," said he.</p> + +<p>Leo thereupon poured out a very disjointed story, which the journalist +heard in silence.</p> + +<p>"You are sure that the girl called out 'Sergius'?"</p> + +<p>"As sure as I am that Rastakov called the fugitive Bernard Jenin."</p> + +<p>"And you think that Jenin certainly came into the house, but did not +leave it again?"</p> + +<p>"No, for it was impossible for him to get away."</p> + +<p>"And you say that he disappeared altogether after that shot had been +fired?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, as though he had been instantaneously annihilated."</p> + +<p>Wallion looked puzzled, and threw himself back in his chair with a +gesture of vexation.</p> + +<p>"Things don't tally! Talk of magic! I am brought up short whichever +way I turn in this affair. Why should Lona Ivanovna shoot Bernard +Jenin?—they ought...."</p> + +<p>He scratched his head meditatively, and got up from his seat. "I know +where I am with Rastakov, he is quite definitely on my black list. But +Lona Ivanovna? and the girl who called out 'Sergius'?"</p> + +<p>Presently Leo ventured to ask a question which had been on the tip of +his tongue for a long time.</p> + +<p>"I think it's my turn now to ask you for some light on these +difficulties," said he; "you were joking, weren't you, when you said +you needed my help?"</p> + +<p>Wallion turned round and answered: "I suppose you know the Copper House +like the palm of your hand?"</p> + +<p>"Who should, if not I?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly, you know the house, and you have the <i>right</i> to do so. Do you +understand why these people want to buy the property? Simply to deprive +you of that right. No one but yourself is in a position to know what is +going on at the Copper House; and some underhand work is on foot there, +which is bound to come to a head sooner or later. But I won't tantalize +you with riddles, I will speak out."</p> + +<p>He sat down again, and continued:</p> + +<p>"It is a good thing you didn't run off to the police; that will come +later, but not yet. I presume you did not meet Marcus Tassler?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Leo.</p> + +<p>"That's just as well; it leaves us free to see the situation clearly."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," interrupted Leo, "I don't see anything clearly, as yet!"</p> + +<p>"I am going to tell you a story," said Wallion. "Five months ago, I +was sent for early one morning to see a dying man. I asked his name, +and, to my surprise, I was given the name of a person who, several +years previously, had been a friend of mine, and who had had the +reputation of being a very promising journalist. But, in consequence +of an extremely unfortunate and ridiculous love-affair, he went all to +pieces, and finally disappeared, of his own accord, from our circle.</p> + +<p>"I hastened to him, and found a poor, battered, neglected creature, +lying, watch in hand, and speculating with a sort of childish +curiosity, as to who would reach him first—myself or Death. They had +told me beforehand that the unfortunate wretch had come home tipsy +the night before, and had fallen out of a passage window on the fifth +story, down to the stone pavement below. Everyone in the building had +been aroused by the cry he uttered as he fell.</p> + +<p>"I won't mention his name, for obvious reasons.</p> + +<p>"When I came into the poverty-stricken bedroom, he raised his head +from the pillow, and said very slowly and softly: 'I was afraid they +wouldn't let you come!'</p> + +<p>"I fancied he was delirious, and he looked as though he could barely +have another minute to live.</p> + +<p>"'Who do you mean?' I asked him.</p> + +<p>"'The men who killed me,' was his reply.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what I said, for it was a dreadful shock to see the man +whom I remembered full of life and health, lying an utter wreck before +me. His back was broken. The change in him was so overwhelming that he +could not but notice my consternation.</p> + +<p>"'Yes, it is I,' he said, 'but in a minute or two I shall not be here +any longer ... quick, quick, bend down—no, do not touch my hand!' And +he turned away his head, as though in shame.</p> + +<p>"'Send away the doctor,' he murmured. I asked the doctor if he would +remain outside the room until I called him, and stooped down over the +dying man. His eyes glittered with fever, in his haggard, unshorn face. +'Do you know why I am dying?' said he. 'It's because I have seen too +far into the depths of the Whirlpool ... you are blind—all of you +blind! Can you see nothing?...'</p> + +<p>"He brought out these words with such an effort that it made him gasp +for breath, and I gave him some water.</p> + +<p>"'Mark my words,' he began again, in brief sentences and with repeated +pauses. 'I have thrown away my own life ... they bought me to do their +work, but I won't ... it is the beginning of Chaos ... first in +Russia ... then it will spread everywhere ... the man who dominates the +Whirlpool is called Gabriel Ortiz; I found that out yesterday, and last +night they killed me ... for I am as good as dead already.'</p> + +<p>"His failing energy beat out every word like the sparks from an anvil, +and I listened breathlessly, for I realized that he was husbanding the +last remnants of strength to make some amazing revelation.</p> + +<p>"'Gabriel Ortiz ... remember that name ... his right hand is Baron +Fayerling ... but there are many others ... their plan ... it's +appalling ... the wild beast shall possess the earth!...'</p> + +<p>"He groped for my hand, as though by clinging to me he could retain his +hold on life a little longer. His anguish was fearful to see.</p> + +<p>"'The War is nothing to what will happen, if Ortiz is not crushed ... +but be careful ... they kill'; ... his voice grew fainter, and he +lapsed into unconsciousness. I called in the doctor, but after a few +minutes, he died.</p> + +<p>"The dim room still seemed to echo with the sound of his voice. What +was it he wanted to tell me?"</p> + +<p>Wallion lighted a cigarette, and Leo could see that he was deeply moved.</p> + +<p>"You see for yourself what a fantastic confession it appeared. And +yet it never occurred to me to doubt the dead man's information, +though I could find nothing to confirm it amongst his papers. But I +made discreet inquiries of his neighbors, and when I went away, I was +convinced that he had really been murdered by two men, who had lain in +wait for him on the staircase, and pushed him through the window. I +felt sure he had been in his right mind, but that he had been unable +to complete a communication which would have been of incalculable +importance."</p> + +<p>"Could you find no clue to it?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I took it for granted that he was the author of an article, +headed: 'Who is the Man in the Whirlpool?' which had appeared a +few weeks previously, in a little popular weekly paper. It proved +impossible to verify it, because, for some unknown reason, the +newspaper came to an end shortly after, and its contributors were all +dispersed. In this remarkable article, attention was called to the +fact that, during the War, Stockholm had become a center of activity +for adventurers of a type hitherto unknown to civilization, and it was +asserted that amongst them was a man who, as it were behind the back of +the War, was organizing these mysterious forces, no one could say how +or why.</p> + +<p>"At all events, the writer of the article and the dying man took the +same view, that something was brewing, and I had suspected as much +already; things were going on in Stockholm which aroused my notice, +there was a sort of subterranean movement which puzzled me. The image +of a whirlpool was extraordinarily apt, and I could not doubt that the +poor fellow I had just seen die, had been sucked into the vortex by +sheer want, or by the temptation of easily earned money. Many weak and +unfortunate characters have gone that way in these times! But what he +caught sight of in the Whirlpool had evidently alarmed him, and he had +made an effort to save his soul alive. Had I only arrived on the scene +a few minutes earlier, I might have learned everything. At any rate, +he had not summoned me in vain; I knew now that the Master Villain was +called Gabriel Ortiz.</p> + +<p>"But when I tried to obtain particulars as to this Gabriel Ortiz, I +immediately met with the most extraordinary difficulties, which were +in themselves a proof that he existed, but that he had safeguarded +himself with the most intricate precautions. I had only just started +my investigations in earnest, when the Russian Revolution broke out in +March. At once I became aware, here in Stockholm, that under my very +eyes, the sinister development was gaining strength. The Whirlpool +was beginning to seethe. My attention had been directed towards Baron +Fayerling, but I had not succeeded in discovering anything mysterious +about him. He stays at one of the best hotels, goes everywhere, and +lives officially on the rents of his Roumanian property. But as +Roumanian property is just now a very uncertain source of income, Baron +Fayerling also does business of the most up-to-date kind, and has +associated himself for this purpose with Marcus Tassler, the manager +of the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company, a thorough going +profiteer, and even outside business matters a regular shark.</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, the odd thing about Tassler is the interest he takes in the +Copper House. Mark this: we have at the Copper House three perfectly +inconspicuous persons, who seem to prefer living in the most complete +retirement; they are Andrei Bernin, his sister and his daughter. As +long as I have had my eye on them, they have never left the Copper +House, and have not evinced any particular friendship for Tassler +or the baron, who often stay there as self-invited guests. Tassler +has shown unremitting interest in the Copper House, and it is he who +has brought about, first the lease of the entire property, and now +the liberal offer to purchase it. He has installed there a staff of +attendants, whom he commands with almost military zeal. The gate-keeper +is called Tugan; no one knows his nationality, but he is a regular +watchdog, and only too glad to get food, drink and fighting, provided +gratis. He, of course, lives at the lodge.</p> + +<p>"Then we have the gardener, whom you have probably not seen yet; +his name is Rosenthal, a taciturn, meditative sort of fellow, with +something refined about him which distinguishes him slightly from the +rest. He has two underlings, and these three live in the gardener's +cottage behind the big house.</p> + +<p>"Next we have the cowhouse and the stable, which now contain only three +cows and two horses—but four cowherds and two grooms are kept to look +after them—what do you make of that?</p> + +<p>"Wait! The list is not complete yet. There are the six men whom Sonia +Bernin calls the forest-guards, and they really <i>do</i> keep watch in the +wood, as you can testify from personal experience!</p> + +<p>"And finally, two individuals are installed at the little cottage +beside the pier that runs out into the Bay; they fish, and sail in and +out of the farther islands, but what they catch, neither you nor I can +say!</p> + +<p>"So there we have a retinue of eighteen men—but not a trace of either +men or women servants in the Copper House itself. Not counting the +three Bernins, who are Russians, every one of the others on the place +is a foreigner, although ten or eleven of them can speak Swedish, and +six have been naturalized as Swedish citizens."</p> + +<p>"And you said you didn't know the Copper House!" exclaimed Leo; "why, +you know it better than I do!"</p> + +<p>"Anybody can find out that sort of thing," replied Wallion. "There is +no secret about it. But the burning question is: what is <i>really</i> going +on at the Copper House?"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>The slayers</i></h3> + + +<p>"Let us try and see exactly how we stand," went on the Problem-hunter; +"up to now there has been a lot of vague talk about whirlpools, chaos, +wild beasts, and the like. Accurately speaking, we already have a +complete chain, with the Copper House at one end, and the mysterious +Gabriel Ortiz at the other. Two of the most important links in the +chain are Fayerling and Tassler. I might add a third: Rastakov, though +he is a subordinate, a sort of non-commissioned officer, so to speak, +who gets all the dirty jobs for his share. Now we will take this +extraordinary 'chain,' link by link, and sum up all we know about it. +Of its head, Ortiz, we are not yet in a position to say anything very +definite; most of our information about him dates from ten years back."</p> + +<p>Wallion proceeded to give a brief outline of the story which he had +related to B.22, a few hours earlier.</p> + +<p>"Baron Fayerling, the fashionable society man, with his Roumanian +property, is the next on our list," he continued; "he manages to invest +his money on the most extraordinarily favorable terms. He banks with +no fewer than six banks in Stockholm, two in Göteburg, and one in +Copenhagen, Malmö, Christiania, and Hälsingfors respectively.</p> + +<p>"The grand total of his outstanding account rises and falls in a +very peculiar way: at the beginning of February he had no less than +12,000,000 kroner, at the end of the same month only half that amount, +and at the end of March only a paltry 100,000. Two weeks later, he paid +in on one day, 1,000,000 kroner to every one of his banking accounts, +making another sum of 12,000,000 kroner. And now, in July, his account +has reached the enormous total of over 20,000,000 kroner. Whatever kind +of business does he carry on? No one can say. I have myself verified +the names of eighty-four different persons, who have cashed the baron's +checks; of these, all except four were foreigners, and half of them +left Sweden afterwards, mostly bound for Russia or Finland. This influx +of people, all of whom received money, and sometimes a great deal of +it, from Fayerling, was largest at the beginning of March. Each man +paid a short visit to the baron's room at the hotel, and two of them +were shadowed the whole time by Rastakov. Three of them went out to the +Copper House.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't forget to mention Tassler, whose interests are closely +allied to those of the baron. The Finno-Russian Import and Export +Company is a bona fide concern; you can go whenever you like to their +office in Drottning Street, and negotiate the buying or selling of +almost any conceivable thing, for, like most other modern business men, +Tassler deals in practically any goods, from clinical thermometers to +coffee, tea and cocoa. A small number of the articles in which they +deal are only to be found in the catalogue, but this is probably due to +the fact that their value fluctuates with the continual rise of prices.</p> + +<p>"Tassler's banking-accounts are as unimpeachable as those of the baron, +and are deposited in much the same way. In one or two cases, I have +ascertained that these two men had concluded a deal in which there was +a genuine exchange of cash and goods; but, on the whole, I have not +been able to discover that the Agents of the Company, who are to be +found in all the large Scandinavian towns, carry on any business beyond +an incessant correspondence, on the firm's stamped writing paper, with +Messrs. Tassler and Fayerling.</p> + +<p>"I have read through a whole pile of such letters; they are full of +lists of goods, and business terms. Sometimes if it is anything urgent, +they send telegrams. Tassler's agent in Göteburg did so when you +landed from the American vessel. One gets the impression of elaborate +machinery in full working-order, but it is not so easy to ascertain its +object, for, if it were to make money, Fayerling and Tassler would not +have a rag to their backs by this time.</p> + +<p>"To put the thing in a nutshell, we see two gentlemen who allow +millions to flow out through a hundred different channels, but we +search in vain for the source of these millions or for the ultimate +aim of such lavish expenditure. If it were a question of the usual +spy-business, it would be easily understood, but neither Fayerling +nor Tassler nor any of their associates in and around the Copper House +appear to have the slightest connection with the belligerent powers. +No, there is something else in the wind—but what?</p> + +<p>"When I began my investigations, I evolved two different theories. The +first was, that this was an organization for gun-running. It was a fact +that Fayerling had been somehow implicated in the infamously famous +expedition which attempted to smuggle explosives across the northern +boundary into Finland, but was quashed by the Swedish authorities, and +its promoters mysteriously dispersed. The equally famous motor-launch +'Nelly,' which attempted to cross the Gulf of Bothnia with a cargo +of modern rifles, was seen a week previously cruising off the Copper +House. But I could not obtain sufficient proof; and, above all, I was +soon convinced that neither of such incidents could be more than a +detail, a mere trifle, in Fayerling's daily program. I could see that +he only goes in for big things. Thereupon, I started a fresh theory: +that the whole affair was a federation to assist various political +fugitives and conspirators in the technical part of their plans, such +as forging passports, protecting them against counter-espionage, +financing their journeys, purchasing weapons ... in short, a kind +of revolutionary stock-jobbery. As a matter of fact, hundreds of +revolutionaries and the like, with weapons and 'red' literature, were +smuggled into Russia by way of Stockholm, at the beginning of this +year. It would certainly be an interesting interpretation of the +activities of the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company!</p> + +<p>"But that explanation proved inadequate also: its aims were far too +limited. Fayerling and Tassler were obviously interested in the Russian +Revolution, but even after a revolutionary Government came into power +in Petrograd, their mysterious work continued with unabated vigor, +directed by the still invisible Gabriel Ortiz. I felt quite at a +loss....</p> + +<p>"Then, all of a sudden, a period of inactivity set in; it started +some weeks ago. No more streams of unknown visitors, no more of that +colossal expenditure ... absolute stagnation! I noticed that Fayerling +was beginning to get fidgety; about once a day, usually rather late, +he would hold a long conversation on the telephone, after which he +regularly countermanded certain orders, and substituted new ones. +I felt sure that Ortiz must be at the other end of the line during +these talks, but I found it impossible to verify this. It was soon +evident that some new plan was afoot, and I determined to redouble +my watchfulness. One day my assistant, Robert Lang, overheard in the +street a conversation between the baron and Tassler in which the latter +alluded several times to 'Tarraschin's memorandum.' This gave us a +fresh idea.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what 'Tarraschin's memorandum' is?</p> + +<p>"It has only once been referred to publicly, and that was by a +Bulgarian journalist, who had got into some trouble over a newspaper +controversy. He referred to 'Tarraschin's memorandum' as 'a bomb +which, if it came into the right hands, would annihilate Europe.' +The document must have been drawn up in Moscow immediately after the +March revolution, and Prince Tarraschin was the originator of it. It +contained a complete plan to destroy the Revolution and reinstate the +Tsar, and practically all the best-known names of the Russian 'ancien +régime' would be irrevocably compromised if the document came to light. +Strangely enough, or perhaps, naturally enough, Prince Tarraschin died +at the end of March, before his plan had gone further than the paper +on which it was written, and the whole thing seemed to have died out +altogether.</p> + +<p>"This is where Bernard Jenin comes in, and at the same moment, +Fayerling's attitude of suspense ends as though by magic! I see a +person, simply known as B.22, told off to escort Jenin; I see Rastakov +keeping an eye on them both; earnest consultations take place in the +baron's apartments. To my surprise, I learn that this Bernard Jenin +is in possession of nothing less than the Tarraschin document, and I +gather that there is a plot to rob him of it.</p> + +<p>"Then, having for a month past played the silent part of an unseen +spectator, I decide to step in!</p> + +<p>"I saw Rastakov go straight from the baron's room to that of Jenin, +and I put a spoke in his wheel. I warned Jenin to look out carefully +for a better hiding-place, and safer friends; he hardly said a word, +but simply vanished. I wondered which way he had gone, but I could not +follow him, because it became necessary for me, once for all, to take +up a definite attitude as regarded the baron. I now learn for the first +time, that Jenin dashed off to the Copper House, that Rastakov promptly +followed him, and that they have, in all probability, murdered him +there."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Maurice Wallion told his story rapidly, and almost without a pause. The +silence which succeeded it lasted so long that it began to get on Leo's +nerves. It seemed to him as though the mere fact of having listened to +this fantastic tale brought with it some sort of responsibility—an +awakening sense of duty.</p> + +<p>"Do you think, too, that Jenin is dead?" he asked, just to break the +silence.</p> + +<p>"One can think anything, when one knows nothing," replied Wallion +gravely. "I would rather have no theory than one which can be proved +to have no foundation. But that Jenin, as soon as I have rescued him +from one danger should run straight into another—that he should turn +up so apparently unnecessarily at the Copper House, right in the +middle of the hornets' nest, seems so senseless, that Lona Ivanovna's +revolver-shot only puts the finishing touch to the story! The only +thing that really puzzles me is why Sonia Bernin should have cried out: +'Sergius!'"</p> + +<p>"Where do you suppose Tarraschin's document can have got to now?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly into Lona Ivanovna's, or more accurately, into Andrei +Bernin's hands. At any rate, Rastakov did not get hold of it."</p> + +<p>"How can you be sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"In this way: if he had been able yesterday to report the discovery of +the document to the baron, and he in his turn to Ortiz, they would have +not made such a frantic search amongst all my belongings later in the +evening. They would have held all the trumps in their hands, and would +have considered me comparatively harmless. But instead of that, they +have turned my room at the office topsy-turvy, and have tried to do the +same thing here, to find that paper, and that assures me that Rastakov +has not discovered it at the Copper House—yet!"</p> + +<p>"That seems probable," Leo agreed; "so you knew how they had ransacked +your office?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Robert Lang telephoned it. But they carried off nothing more +important than a photograph of Sonia Bernin."</p> + +<p>"They didn't even get that!" cried Leo, triumphantly. "Look what I +have! I got there first!"</p> + +<p>There was such simple pride in the young man's look and words, that the +Problem-hunter burst out laughing, and gave him a hearty slap on the +back.</p> + +<p>"Ah, now you are playing tricks on me," said he; "it's the Finger of +Destiny, or the Master Mind, or whatever else you like to call it. It +is quite evident that we two must coöperate!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we <i>must</i> do something," declared Leo, who had certainly never +shown himself so decided in the whole of his life. "I am glad you +summoned me home from California. We mustn't let things slide: we must +keep a sharp look-out on what is going on at the Copper House."</p> + +<p>The Problem-hunter looked pleasantly surprised at the reiterated "we +must," and began to think that this young fellow had something in him +after all.</p> + +<p>"You heard what I said about Ortiz," said he warningly. "Don't imagine +that the Man in the Whirlpool is a myth, and can be abolished in half +an hour. He exists, and he is dangerous."</p> + +<p>"Dangerous!" exclaimed Leo, coloring a little in his excitement. "With +you to back me, who can call a man from the other side of the world, +without saying a word to him! I know nothing of Ortiz, but at any rate, +he has got you for an enemy!"</p> + +<p>It was plain to see that the young man, like almost all those who met +Wallion, had surrendered unconditionally to his suggestive personality. +The calm voice and the keen eyes inspired Leo with unlimited +confidence, and, at this moment, his mobile, rather undecided face took +on a look of the journalist's, with his determined mouth and chin.</p> + +<p>Wallion, who was watching him, took up his tumbler quickly to hide a +smile, and said: "Unfortunately, though we know nothing about Ortiz, +he knows all about us. He has the advantage of us there. But he and his +satellites are suffering from one drawback: there are too many of them. +'A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.'"</p> + +<p>"And it's just that link we have got to find," cried Leo.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's exactly what I was trying to do yesterday afternoon, +while I was keeping Fayerling's counterspies at arm's length. I found +that the man we know under the pseudonym of B.22, who escorted Bernard +Jenin to Stockholm, has in some way incurred the baron's suspicions. I +profited by this, and managed to fall in with B.22."</p> + +<p>Here the journalist looked at his watch, and broke off: "I say, how +time has flown! It is past six already!"</p> + +<p>He extinguished the lamp, and they could see a glimmer of daylight +between the thick curtains, which he now flung open. Waves of bright +sunshine streamed into the room, and when the window was opened a +refreshing morning-breeze blew softly in on their heated faces. They +both inhaled it with enjoyment, and Wallion said: "Another day! I +wonder if Gabriel Ortiz slept last night—not without dreaming, I'll +wager. As long as there is a doubt about Tarraschin's memorandum ... +but who knows, everything may be cleared up in an hour's time!"</p> + +<p>"Why are you looking out into the street?"</p> + +<p>"To see if the house is watched."</p> + +<p>"And is it?"</p> + +<p>"Fortunately not. We are lucky."</p> + +<p>"How odd you look! One might think you were waiting for somebody. +What's up?"</p> + +<p>"I am expecting B.22. He was to be here at about seven."</p> + +<p>Leo jumped up. "B.22 coming here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the poor chap is scared stiff, and is inclined to betray Ortiz +to save his own skin. I have promised to help him, as soon as he has +made a full confession, though I doubt whether he will prove a very +creditable witness...."</p> + +<p>The door-bell rang; Wallion went to answer it, and a man came +in hurriedly, holding a newspaper in his hand. It was the young +journalist, Robert Lang, and he was so much out of breath that he could +not speak for a minute, but handed the paper to his Chief with a silent +gesture.</p> + +<p>"You are out early," remarked Wallion coolly, though he already guessed +the truth.</p> + +<p>"No," retorted Lang hastily, "say rather, too late! Wallion, they have +forestalled us again—B.22 is dead!"</p> + +<p>"Dead!" echoed Leo and the Problem-hunter together. The latter, to +whom Lang had handed the paper, glanced through it, and came to an +underlined paragraph, which he read aloud:</p> + +<p class="ph3">'<span class="smcap">Sudden Death in the Street Last Night.</span>'</p> + + +<p>"'About eleven o'clock last night, a middle-aged and rather poorly +dressed man was found dead upon one of the benches in the Railway Park. +The man, who was apparently one of the many unknown strangers who are +so frequently to be met with in Stockholm at the present time, seems to +have died quite suddenly, no doubt in consequence of a heart-attack. +Nothing was found in his pockets, except a card upon which was written +in red ink, "B.22." It is therefore impossible to identify him. He was +dressed....'" A brief description followed. Wallion threw down the +paper, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Is the <i>Morning Post</i> the only paper that gives the news?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Lang; "it must have been one of their reporters who came +across him."</p> + +<p>"Have you verified the report?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the dead man is B.22, there's no doubt about that."</p> + +<p>"No," said Wallion slowly; "no doubt about it. We might have expected +it. Poor wretch! the Whirlpool has sucked him in!"</p> + +<p>"He makes the third," said Leo, looking much disturbed. "We <i>must</i> give +notice to the police now!"</p> + +<p>Wallion, who was standing with his head bent, now looked up.</p> + +<p>"The third, if Bernard Jenin is really dead," he said. "But how can +the police help us? What's the good of bringing an accusation against +one Gabriel Ortiz, when no one has any idea where to find him? Or to +arrest Fayerling or Tassler, against whom we have not a shadow of +proof? Or to tell the fantastic history of Tarraschin's memorandum +which none of us has seen? Go to the police, if you like—and in +a week's time we shall be scoffed at as the most arrant liars and +slanderers in Europe, and that is saying a good deal in this year of +grace 1917!"</p> + +<p>"But—aren't we right?" asked Leo, amazed.</p> + +<p>"We haven't the <i>right</i> to be right, as long as we can't <i>prove</i> that +we are! And you see, they have robbed us of our proof before we could +take advantage of it."</p> + +<p>"What shall we do, then?"</p> + +<p>The Problem-hunter's gray eyes began to sparkle with indomitable +energy. He spoke rapidly, but in such a tone that every word was +impressed upon their minds.</p> + +<p>"Lang, you go straight off to Lawyer Burchardt as soon as his office is +open, and inform him on Mr. Grath's behalf that the Copper House is not +for sale. You may tell the lawyer, under the seal of secrecy, as much +of the truth as is necessary. After that, wait for further instructions +from me."</p> + +<p>Robert Lang looked at Leo.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he quickly; "it's quite correct, I have no intention of +selling the Copper House to those people."</p> + +<p>"And you, Mr. Grath," continued Wallion, "are presumed to be locked +up in your bedroom at the present minute, fast asleep at the Copper +House. It's a grand position, at the very center of all that's going +on. So, catch the first train out to Karkby, and get back to your room +the same way you left it—as long as nobody sees you doing it!"</p> + +<p>Leo drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"But supposing anyone saw me in Stockholm last night?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody would have dreamed that you would be here, and that fellow +outside my door had quite enough to do to look after himself."</p> + +<p>"And what about you? what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"I am coming with you to the Copper House!"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Part_II-The_Twentieth_of_July"><i>Part II—The Twentieth of July</i></h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Lona Ivanovna asks her first question</i></h3> + + +<p>When a house is guarded with such infinite precaution as was the +case with the Copper House, it becomes, as Wallion expressed it, "a +pleasantly exciting adventure" to enter it by broad daylight, without +being seen.</p> + +<p>By his advice, they had quitted the train one station beyond Karkby, +and gone the rest of the way on foot, through the wood. They crossed +the southern boundary as an invading army crosses the border of a +hostile country: by forced marches, and with intense caution.</p> + +<p>As soon as they reached the top of the hill, they could see at some +distance through the trees, the massive roof of copper which was their +goal. The sun shone brightly in the still atmosphere; no smoke issued +as yet from the chimneys of the great house; the unploughed field in +front of it lay bare and desolate. But, on looking to the left, they +caught sight of a man sitting motionless upon a stone at the outskirts +of the wood, with his face turned towards the field, and a gun between +his knees. It was one of the forest-guards.</p> + +<p>"We seem to be in luck," murmured Wallion.</p> + +<p>"Luck!" echoed Leo irritably. "They are watching the path and we shall +not be able to go a hundred steps without being seen...."</p> + +<p>"Just so. It is lucky that they are watching the Copper House <i>so +openly</i>. If we had not found that sentry posted there, I should have +felt uneasy, for it would certainly mean that your escapade last night +had been discovered, and a trap laid. But now they are keeping guard as +they always do, and we can go happily on."</p> + +<p>Wallion moved forward, but Leo pulled him back by the coat.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"To make a flanking movement," replied the Problem-hunter.</p> + +<p>They skirted the hill behind the sentry, and approached the avenue by +slow degrees. Suddenly Wallion halted.</p> + +<p>"There's another of them!" he whispered.</p> + +<p>They could see another armed man some way beyond them; like the first, +he was staring idly at the field, and they heard him yawn loudly, after +which he filled and lighted his pipe; the smell of tobacco was wafted +up to them.</p> + +<p>"Look, they are waking up in the Copper House," whispered Leo.</p> + +<p>Smoke was rising from one of the chimneys, and the Problem-hunter gazed +critically at it, remarking:</p> + +<p>"In twenty minutes' time, they will knock at your door to tell you that +breakfast is ready."</p> + +<p>"They are bound to find out directly that I am not there," answered Leo +quickly; "we can't possibly get in now without being seen."</p> + +<p>"Where there's a will, there's a way! We'll try, at all events."</p> + +<p>Wallion spoke with irresistible decision, and Leo dared not protest. +They passed, at some distance, a third sentry, and were now close to +the avenue, and about half-way up it. The huge trees formed a sort of +roof above them, and the trunks bordered the path like a fourfold row +of dark, massive pillars. Wallion looked all round.</p> + +<p>"That's our best way," said he: "come along."</p> + +<p>"The avenue?" said Leo.</p> + +<p>"Yes, where else? Why go in by the back way, when we can arrive in +style, sheltered by these great trees? Remember that they keep a +look-out on the avenue from the porter's lodge, and anyone seeing us +here will take it for granted that we belong to the house. Forward!"</p> + +<p>He took Leo by the arm, and began to walk up the avenue.</p> + +<p>"Step out," he said smiling. "They see us now, but they aren't paying +us any attention."</p> + +<p>It was difficult to say whether any of the three sentries whom they had +just passed, and had now left on their right, took the slightest notice +of the two men in the avenue; at all events, they raised no alarm, +though Leo, hardly daring to breathe, expected them to do so at any +minute.</p> + +<p>Wallion moved softly and swiftly, as though making for some definite +point, and Leo followed him as best he could; five minutes later they +made a half-turn to the left, and saw the Copper House straight in +front of them.</p> + +<p>"Which is the window of your room?" whispered Wallion.</p> + +<p>"On the north side, second floor, hidden by the trees. I have climbed +up the spout to that window any number of times in my life, without +being caught...."</p> + +<p>"I fancy we shall manage it again now," remarked Wallion, but at the +same instant he pulled Leo back among the bushes.</p> + +<p>Somebody was coming. Steps crunched on the gravel, and a man passed +quite close. Presently they crept out of their hiding-place, and saw +the person, who had gone by without suspecting their proximity, mount +the terrace-steps, and disappear in the direction of the house. They +both recognized Rastakov. While they still hesitated to advance any +further, they heard his steps again; he had gone the round of the +house, and was now standing on the terrace. They dared not raise their +heads, for his face was turned their way. They could hear him light a +cigarette, and the next few seconds seemed interminable. Then the glass +door leading to the hall opened with a crash, and a harsh voice said:</p> + +<p>"Maxim Rastakov!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Lona Ivanovna?"</p> + +<p>"Allow me to tell you, Rastakov, that if you don't turn out that filthy +tramp who is sitting in the kitchen, and the miserable object who +stands and yawns in the hall, I shall do it myself."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, my good Lona Ivanovna; not until you tell me where I can find +Bernard Jenin."</p> + +<p>"Haven't you searched the whole house? Do you think I have hidden him +in one of these drawers? You needn't make faces; you are quite ugly +enough as it is...."</p> + +<p>Rastakov laughed.</p> + +<p>"Lona Ivanovna," said he, "go upstairs and wake the young fellow who +fancies that he owns this house, and see that he comes out here without +noticing anything. We can talk about Bernard Jenin afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Don't I tell you that he has gone!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I haven't a doubt of it! He's gone, but <i>the matter doesn't end +there</i>! When you can show me <i>how Bernard Jenin disappeared</i>, I will +remove those men. But only on one condition: mind that the blue light +appears every evening."</p> + +<p>There was something ominous in the cold, clear tones of Rastakov's +voice, which made Leo's blood run cold. A pause followed. Then the old +lady said, as harshly as before, but with rising anger in her voice:</p> + +<p>"See to the blue light yourself, Rastakov. Perhaps it may show up your +face in its proper setting, and let people see what a scoundrel you +are!"</p> + +<p>"They have realized that already, Lona Ivanovna, and that is why they +make use of me."</p> + +<p>He laughed again loudly, went down the steps of the terrace, and +disappeared down the avenue. The glass door slammed again, and all was +still.</p> + +<p>Wallion sprang up, pulling Leo with him.</p> + +<p>"Quick, quick," he whispered; "now we know how the land lies; they +are keeping watch indoors, and your absence last night has not been +discovered. Quick, to your room."</p> + +<p>They could see above them the open window of Leo's bedroom, and without +more ado, Wallion climbed with noiseless agility up the copper spout, +and swung himself over the window-sill.</p> + +<p>Leo followed him with greater difficulty, for, in his nervous +excitement, his heart was beating so rapidly that it made him feel +faint and breathless.</p> + +<p>"Here we are, at last!" said the Problem-hunter, seating himself on +a chair, and taking stock of his surroundings; "an uncommonly jolly +little room! Give me some idea as quickly as you can, of the geography +of the house, so that I may know how to find my way about it."</p> + +<p>But this was asking too much. Leo had thrown himself speechless on +the bed, and did not answer. Wallion looked at him more closely, and +saw that he was shivering as though with cold, and that beads of +perspiration stood on his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Look here, you must keep those nerves of yours in better order! Yes, +I know neither of us had a wink of sleep last night, but you will feel +another man when you have had a splash in cold water, and changed your +things: do it now!"</p> + +<p>"I left my luggage at Stockholm," murmured Leo, without moving. "But it +doesn't matter...."</p> + +<p>"Well then, take a nip out of my pocket-pistol," said his friend, +perseveringly. "There, you see, you're better already."</p> + +<p>And, in fact, Leo sat up, after a mouthful from Wallion's silver flask.</p> + +<p>"What's the good?" asked the young man slowly. "Now we are here, after +so much trouble, it seems to me we can't do anything. If we stop where +we are, we shall be no better than prisoners, and who knows what may +happen when they discover that you are here? We have voluntarily +deprived ourselves of liberty...."</p> + +<p>"No," replied the journalist decidedly; "we have gained it. Full, +unlimited liberty to be in the very place where they least want us. +They will do all in their power to get us out of it. I say 'us,' +because they will not remain long in ignorance of my presence here, +although several things will probably happen first."</p> + +<p>"No doubt about that. There will be plenty of movement—but as for +liberty—that's quite another matter!"</p> + +<p>"Don't misunderstand me," said the Problem-hunter, with a steely glint +in his eye. "In Stockholm I was obliged to keep a constant look-out, to +try and discover my opponents; here, I can see enemies freely on every +side of me, and may expect a fresh one at any minute. The situation is +perfectly simple—we have only to be prepared!"</p> + +<p>"Are you armed?"</p> + +<p>"Of course! I have a perfect arsenal, what with a pair of eyes, two +ears, a tongue, and my brains. Don't you think that's enough? Well, +here's a revolver into the bargain. That will do for Rastakov."</p> + +<p>"Or for Lona Ivanovna, who shot Bernard Jenin!" exclaimed Leo +impetuously. "You may joke, but I...."</p> + +<p>The journalist came and sat down beside him.</p> + +<p>"Why, now you are angry," he said calmly; "that's good, it shows you're +in working order again."</p> + +<p>Nobody could resist Maurice Wallion when he chose. Leo began to smile.</p> + +<p>A soft breeze from the wooded hills around them blew in upon them, +cooling and refreshing: a blue butterfly was fluttering in the folds of +the white window-curtains.</p> + +<p>"How can I be angry!" said Leo. "But you are so—different from other +people. Here we have just smuggled ourselves into a house which is full +of mysteries, and probably of powerful enemies as well, and you sit +down and deal in paradoxes. You are playing with danger!"</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," replied the journalist, "when one has got to the +point of playing with danger, it means that one has first learned to +estimate it correctly. A hunter does not judge of the strength of a +lion merely by shooting it. He tracks it to its lair, 'plays' it, so to +speak—and in that way forms a true estimate of its individual powers."</p> + +<p>"Stop, stop!" entreated Leo, holding up his hands in mock surrender. +"You will be making me say next, that Rastakov is my dearest friend!"</p> + +<p>"And you couldn't do a wiser thing," retorted the journalist +imperturbably. "The wind would be quite taken out of his sails, and he +would become wax in your hands."</p> + +<p>He bent forward, and added impressively:</p> + +<p>"What you <i>must</i> do—and now I am speaking quite seriously—is to be a +really staunch friend to Lona Ivanovna and Sonia Bernin."</p> + +<p>"What about Andrei Bernin?"</p> + +<p>"I intend to befriend him myself, for a reason that will probably +surprise you both. But now it is time for you to go downstairs."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later, Leonard Grath came down into the hall. Sure +enough, there by the glass door sat a man, his gun propped against the +wall, within easy reach; he got up as soon as he saw Leo, and stood at +attention. The young man went past him into the dining-room, where he +could hear low voices. The breakfast table was laid near the windows, +and with some surprise, he realized that they were waiting for him.</p> + +<p>Sonia Bernin was standing by the window, and when she turned and saw +him, she greeted him with a friendly smile. Lona Ivanovna, who had been +talking in a low and impressive tone, also turned round. Leo bowed. As +a self-invited guest, he found the situation a little awkward, but his +hostess said frankly:</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mr. Grath. I am afraid we left you very unceremoniously +yesterday evening, but I trust you will remember that a place will +always be laid for you as long as you give us the pleasure of your +company."</p> + +<p>"It is most kind of you," mumbled Leo. He noticed for the first time +that the old blind author was also in the room. Andrei Bernin was +sitting in an armchair, stiff and upright, in a listening attitude, +near a window on the left, with the curtains drawn. In his dim corner +at the end of the room, he looked like some grotesque and inanimate +mask, with his white beard, blue spectacles, and black velvet +skull-cap: a pathetic and immovable figure, laid aside and forgotten. +As Lona Ivanovna's masculine profile and vigorous form bent over the +blind man, the contrast was so acute, that Leo could not help feeling +touched by it.</p> + +<p>"Andrei Ivanovitch," said his sister, "this is Mr. Grath."</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad to make your acquaintance, sir," said Leo.</p> + +<p>The blind man bowed, and held out a thin, but white and well-kept hand.</p> + +<p>"We are all glad that you have come," said he, in a voice as low and +gentle as a softly tinkling bell. "But why have you come alone?"</p> + +<p>After a pause, during which Sonia raised her head and looked at Leo, +the blind man repeated his question, still more slowly and mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Why have you come alone?"</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna also cast an inquiring glance at the young man. The +blind man had clutched the arms of his chair, and was bending forward; +little wrinkles undulated over his worn face, and the blue spectacles +gleamed like two steel mirrors. Leo, whose thoughts were centered on +the journalist hidden in his bedroom, felt like a prisoner at the bar.</p> + +<p>"I am certainly alone," he said slowly, "though I didn't come alone."</p> + +<p>"Ah, indeed," said the blind man, in a tone which suddenly resembled +his sister's. "Not alone? And who was your companion?"</p> + +<p>"He was a stranger to me," explained Leo. "Bernard Jenin was my +traveling companion in the train yesterday."</p> + +<p>The expression of the faces around him changed suddenly, and became +cold, strange, and secretive. It seemed almost as though the sunny +atmosphere of the room was charged with electricity, which sent a shock +through him, and a new light dawned upon him. He perceived that these +three persons were unhappy, weighed down by an unknown catastrophe, +or by the apprehension of an imminent one. He had been cruel: he had +reopened a wound. They were looking at him as though they saw in him +an executioner, and Sonia's eyes were misty with tears. The old man's +voice broke the silence:</p> + +<p>"We mustn't judge by appearances. Important conclusions are often based +on very slight grounds. And although I cannot see you, I can feel what +you are thinking. The question is, whether Bernard Jenin is still in +the Copper House, or whether Lona Ivanovna killed him last night, at +sunset."</p> + +<p>Leo raised his hand involuntarily, and took a step back. The blind man, +who sat with his white head turned towards him, continued softly:</p> + +<p>"What, are you afraid of your own suspicions? At sunset, that's a good +time to die! Why do you let the matter trouble you so deeply? There are +so many brave fellows, a hundred times better than Bernard Jenin, who +are lying dead in a hell of carnage, that it seems almost a luxury to +die of nothing worse than one little revolver-shot."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bernin!" burst out Leo violently, "I have not expressed any such +suspicion!"</p> + +<p>"No, <i>I</i> have expressed it. To banish a groundless suspicion it is +often enough just to put it into words. Some thoughts won't stand +that proof. You said you saw Bernard Jenin in the train, and you have +guessed that a mystery attaches to his arrival here. But why need the +mystery be a criminal one? Why must you feel obliged to extort an +explanation which would be willingly given to you, if it were possible?"</p> + +<p>Leo did not hesitate a moment. The frank words acted upon him like a +fresh breeze, blowing away the cobwebs, and he exclaimed: "I will not +insist upon any explanation. You do not know me; I cannot claim to be +your friend, but at any rate, do not regard me as your enemy."</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna had crossed her lean arms upon her breast and she laughed +grimly. It struck Leo how much alike Andrei Bernin and his sister were, +in spite of their outward dissimilarity. The same quiet and resigned +manner, the same intellectual strength, characterized them both. He +could not understand how he had seen in the blind author nothing more +than a weak and senile invalid.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" said the old lady, "I see that we are agreed. So let us +have breakfast."</p> + +<p>The tension was eased, though a certain amount of constraint still +remained. Only Leo and Sonia Bernin exchanged a few commonplace remarks +every now and then.</p> + +<p>As soon as they got up from the table, the elder lady took out her +interminable crochet, as if it was the only thing that mattered; then +she leaned over the table, looked the young man straight in the face, +and inquired:</p> + +<p>"When is Maurice Wallion coming?"</p> + +<p>"I—I can't say," answered Leo, taken by surprise. "Why do you ask me?"</p> + +<p>"Because, if he has a mind to rescue Bernard Jenin a second time, he +has my permission to be quick about it!"</p> + +<p>Leo was tempted to tell the truth about the journalist's hiding-place, +but he contented himself with answering: "I am convinced that he will +come—but he will choose his own time."</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Unrest in both camps: an outpost skirmish and a warning</i></h3> + + +<p>It was raining in Stockholm: heavy clouds were drifting over the sky, +and an occasional peal of thunder rolled over the wet, glistening +roofs. At the office of the Finno-Russian Import and Export Company, +Marcus Tassler stood looking gloomily out at the rain. He was alone in +the two showily-furnished rooms, for he had sent out the typist who was +his only assistant, if one excepts those who came and went on business +that had nothing to do with the purchase and sale of tea and coffee. He +was alone with his thoughts, hence his gloom.</p> + +<p>He was thinking principally of the baron—who had inspired him with +a certain amount of dread that morning—and of the future, which he +dreaded even more. He was aware that he was standing on dangerous +ground, and he knew that his one hope of escape was—in plain +English—to cut and run! That is an unpleasant conviction for anyone, +and especially for a man whose most prominent characteristics are an +oriental love of pleasure and a barbaric thirst for gold.</p> + +<p>Marcus Tassler gulped down half a glass of old cognac, and lighted a +dark cigar, with a band round it. He looked at that minute like some +fat, pagan high-priest, engaged in mystic rites, and in forecasting +gruesome omens from the sacrificial offerings.</p> + +<p>Baron Fayerling came in without knocking. He greeted his partner with +a diabolical smile, provoked partly by Tassler's harassed expression, +partly by his empty glass. He appeared to be in a hurry, for he kept +his hat on, and remained standing, leaning on his cane.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Tassler sharply. "You are late. Have you caught him?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the baron. "That duffer I sent up to his flat last night, +came back in a panic, reporting that the journalist was at home, +and had a visitor into the bargain—since then, Maurice Wallion has +vanished as completely as Pharaoh in the Red Sea."</p> + +<p>"Does nobody know who his visitor was?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And when our men searched his room at the office, did they find +nothing?"</p> + +<p>"No. Nothing! Nichts! Rien!"</p> + +<p>The baron uttered each successive negative with an explosive emphasis +which made his companion wince. He added:</p> + +<p>"His being away wouldn't matter so much if I had not the written proof +that the fellow is set on exterminating us. Can you imagine anything +cooler than his treatment of Rastakov and myself! Informing us frankly +that he will fight us for the Tarraschin document—for, of course, +that's what he is after."</p> + +<p>"At any rate, he can't get anything now out of B.22," remarked Tassler.</p> + +<p>"Out of whom?" said the baron sharply. "What may B.22 be? I'm not +acquainted with the witness."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, baron, between ourselves! From the way in which he died, I +can pretty well guess whom you sent...."</p> + +<p>The baron collared the fat man, and shook him till he quivered like a +jelly.</p> + +<p>"Idiot!" he cried. "You will chatter your head off some day! We don't +speak about dead men."</p> + +<p>When the baron loosed his hold, Tassler filled and drained his glass +once more; his hands were trembling, and his eyes wandered uneasily +round the room.</p> + +<p>"I don't like that business with B.22," he muttered. "What's the sense +of employing persons whom one has to kill as soon as they get to know +anything? The Chief said nothing about murder, when we first discussed +our plans."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. In such an undertaking as ours, there must always come a +time, sooner or later, when we can stick at nothing. But that's no +business of yours. Have you been to see Burchardt?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have been to him."</p> + +<p>Tassler thrust his hands into his trouser-pockets, and confronted the +baron.</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>I have</i> seen the damned lawyer! Fayerling, they <i>mean</i> to fight +us: there is something up. Maurice Wallion is at the back of it, devil +take him!"</p> + +<p>His bloodshot eyes turned towards the glass, but he abstained, and went +on with dry lips:</p> + +<p>"That Burchardt is a fox. He looked at me quite differently when I +came in, and was twice as obliging as he had been before. I mistrust +people who grow politer the better one knows them! He was ready to lick +my boots! I thought everything was going smoothly, and I was saying +that as I had heard that the owner of the Copper House was in town, +and the matter was urgent—when suddenly, the old rascal, who had been +listening to me without turning a hair, said, quite softly:</p> + +<p>"'Mr. Grath has changed his mind. He is not thinking of selling the +Copper House, before he has gone into the matter thoroughly.' I can +tell you, I nearly fell off my chair: 'Not sell!' 'No, very sorry—old +traditions—family inheritance,' and all the rest of it. To hell with +the old traditions! They are on our track, Fayerling, they mean to 'go +into the matter thoroughly!'"</p> + +<p>Tassler almost groaned as he said these words, but after a minute, he +glanced at the baron with the humiliated surprise of a story-teller who +sees his best point fall flat; the baron looked perfectly unconcerned.</p> + +<p>"So they decline to sell," said he, slowly. "I guessed as much. Leonard +Grath is at the Copper House, and no doubt he has been warned by +Wallion. You are right, we are in for a fight."</p> + +<p>"Fayerling, Tarraschin's memorandum will be the ruin of us!"</p> + +<p>"It would, if we were all as blind and as cowardly as you. Can't you +understand that no human beings ever had greater luck than we had, when +Bernard Jenin, contrary to all expectation, fled for refuge to the +Copper House."</p> + +<p>"But Rastakov couldn't get hold of him!"</p> + +<p>"We have to thank the old she-grenadier for that. Andrei Bernin and +his sister evidently mean to play for their own hand, but I intend to +smoke out that wasp's nest—the Bernins won't be of any more use to us. +Of course, Bernard Jenin counted on their help, although Lona Ivanovna +seems to have played the wrong card. Oh well, the document is there, at +any rate, as safe as though it were in a strong-box...."</p> + +<p>"Who is Bernard Jenin really?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know? A knave or a fool. You have heard that in Moscow +he went by the name of Doctor Zero, and he managed to get the document +from our agent, who was on the point of bringing it here. At first I +thought it was all up, but thank goodness, Jenin was idiot enough to +travel direct to Stockholm, and had B.22 at his elbow during the whole +journey: he simply had him on a string! And, not content with coming to +Stockholm, no sooner had that journalist rescued him from room 23, than +the silly fool runs straight off to the Copper House. And then you +come and say that we have no luck!"</p> + +<p>Tassler sucked away at his cigar with his thick lips: his eyes looked +like two china marbles.</p> + +<p>"Can I see his photograph?" he asked in a hesitating voice. Fayerling +threw it down in front of him, without a word.</p> + +<p>One might have thought that Tassler was afraid of the picture: he held +it at arm's length, between his thumb and finger, whilst a curiously +fixed expression came over his face; he felt as though an electric +shock had gone through him, and he tottered slightly.</p> + +<p>"You must be drunk!" said the baron, with cold disapproval; but this +diagnosis, though founded on past experience, and supported by the +witness of the empty glass, was incorrect. Marcus Tassler was perfectly +sober, though his legs were giving away under him, and his brain was +spinning like a Catherine wheel. He sat down.</p> + +<p>"Fayerling," he whispered almost inaudibly, "do you know who Bernard +Jenin is?"</p> + +<p>"A common thief," replied the baron contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"Don't call him that!" snarled the other, with sudden vehemence. "A +common thief! And what are we, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, who is the creature, then?"</p> + +<p>"It is Sergius!"</p> + +<p>The baron started. The news fell upon him like a bolt from the blue, +and he stared at Tassler with a look of keen inquiry. Finally he gave +a short and somewhat ironical laugh, and said:</p> + +<p>"Sergius! The much-talked-of Sergius, whom I have never seen! Of +course! Now we know what took him out to the Copper House. I might have +guessed."</p> + +<p>He reached for the photograph, and examined it carefully, after which +he put it back in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"So little Sergius has a finger in the pie—on his own account! This +will amuse Ortiz immensely. What a joke! Now we have only to hold out +our hands for Tarraschin's memorandum: Sergius will be delighted to +give it up to you as soon as he sees you, Tassler."</p> + +<p>"He loathes me."</p> + +<p>"That's no business of mine, it's your own affair. All I can say is +that you must manage to get speech with him, by Lona Ivanovna's help. +Why man, with such cards in our hands, we can't help winning the game. +When is the next train to Karkby?"</p> + +<p>Tassler's fishy eyes seemed to conceal all manner of dark and crafty +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"When is the Chief to arrive?" he asked after a pause.</p> + +<p>"This evening, or, at latest, to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"How much does he know?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of Sergius' arrival, or Wallion's interference. He expects to +find Tarraschin's memorandum in our hands; his plans are ripe, and he +is growing impatient. Things are going to move a bit in the Copper +House, before we are many hours older. Every man is at his post, and we +mustn't let any risks hinder us now. Come along."</p> + +<p>He took Marcus Tassler by the arm, and they went out together.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>As soon as breakfast was over, Leo hurried up to his room, but Maurice +Wallion was no longer there. A little thread of blue smoke was still +curling up from a cigarette in an ash-tray on the window-ledge; the +window had been fastened, which Leo interpreted to mean that the +Problem-hunter had not left the room that way, but was making a +reconnaissance inside the house.</p> + +<p>The young man went out into the corridor, and before he could say "Jack +Robinson" the journalist confronted him, calm and smiling. Leo started, +and looked anxiously round, but Wallion said:</p> + +<p>"Go downstairs again, and try not to look as though you were accessory +to a crime! I have only been looking about me a little. Where does that +winding staircase lead to, in the lumber-room at the back?"</p> + +<p>"Down to a little passage between the kitchen and the back door," +replied Leo.</p> + +<p>"Can one reach the first floor that way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is a landing and a door there."</p> + +<p>"That's fine! Have you met Andrei Bernin?"</p> + +<p>Leo described in a few words what had taken place.</p> + +<p>Wallion smiled again, and said:</p> + +<p>"So they are expecting me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, anxiously. Something seems to have alarmed them; they have quite +changed their attitude since yesterday."</p> + +<p>The Problem-hunter nodded thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"That's to be expected; they are beginning to wake up now. I shall set +to work when Marcus Tassler has been here."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he is coming?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is bound to. You must receive him!"</p> + +<p>Wallion fixed his gray eyes for a moment on Leo.</p> + +<p>"You are keeping cool, that is right. Don't forget that I am here."</p> + +<p>He nodded once more, and slipped quietly away. Leo saw him vanish in +the direction of the back stairs; he was beginning to think that this +man was independent of sleep at night, and breakfast in the morning, +and he marveled at the buoyancy of his disposition.</p> + +<p>Sonia Bernin's voice called from below:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Grath, where are you?" and he went downstairs.</p> + +<p>A bank of cloud was drifting slowly up from the direction of Stockholm; +the sun shone palely from an almost colorless sky. A distant rumble of +thunder sounded through the uncomfortably close atmosphere like the +echo of a cannonade.</p> + +<p>The young man went out with the girl into the garden. He could see, +through the dining-room window, the blind man sitting in the shadow +of the curtain, with his sister, who was working as usual. At some +distance away in the garden, a man with a knife was cutting a bunch +of red flowers. He wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, and a blue apron. +It struck Leo that the garden was the only part of his property that +showed signs of being carefully, and even lovingly tended. It was +fragrant with the scent of old-fashioned flowers: silky-soft sweet peas, +white stocks, and modest mignonette, growing between beautiful crimson +and deep yellow roses. A carpet of velvety pansies contrasted with the +brilliant display of sunflowers, peonies and dahlias. Some way off, +the orderly ranks of the useful vegetables were marshaled; pale-green, +dark-green, and purple cabbages, crimson beetroots, and regular masses +of radishes, carrots and parsley. Cucumbers lay beneath the panes of +the forcing-frames, and behind the glass walls of the hothouses was a +mighty though nondescript array of reserve forces in green uniforms.</p> + +<p>"What colors!" said Leo. "Your gardener must be an artist...."</p> + +<p>"That's Rosenthal," said the girl, pointing towards the man in the blue +apron. "He is mad on flowers!"</p> + +<p>They approached the man, who looked up as they reached him. His face +was fair but sunburnt, with light-blue eyes and a kindly mouth. He +touched his cap, but in such a way that Leo saw at once that he was a +well-bred man.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," said Leo: "'il faut cultiver notre jardin,' +n'est-ce-pas?"</p> + +<p>"Voltaire was wrong there," replied the man quietly: "it is not a duty, +but a pleasure to cultivate a garden."</p> + +<p>He spoke as to an equal, and Leo raised his eyebrows and looked at him +more attentively. There was something military in his bearing, but his +speech was that of an educated man, and his thoughtful eyes were those +of a poet.</p> + +<p>"You love color, don't you?" Leo continued.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the man, "especially purple; it is the color of +royalty—and of revolution."</p> + +<p>"A good idea," Leo agreed. At that minute he felt the girl give his arm +a little tug.</p> + +<p>The man went on quietly with his flower-cutting, and after a second's +almost awkward silence, Leo turned away, feeling that he had been +tacitly dismissed.</p> + +<p>"Why did you pull my arm?" he asked, softly.</p> + +<p>"It is Rosenthal," whispered the girl: "he speaks in a way that somehow +frightens me. And Rastakov too...." Sonia's voice broke a little; her +complexion looked transparently clear this morning.</p> + +<p>"Everything seems so strange since last night," she went on: "something +is going to happen!"</p> + +<p>"What is it? Why won't you be frank with me?"</p> + +<p>The girl did not reply. They were standing amongst the rose-bushes at +the corner of the terrace. Some distance away in the garden, Rosenthal +straightened himself up, shading his eyes with his hand. As he looked +down the avenue a whistle sounded suddenly from the direction of the +gate; he threw down his knife, and went off to the kitchen, carrying +the cut flowers in his apron. He came out again almost immediately, and +walked quickly away. At the same time, Lona Ivanovna opened the front +door, and stepped out on to the terrace.</p> + +<p>Two persons now appeared in the avenue: one was Rastakov, the other a +short, stout gentleman, who looked very warm and agitated.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who that is?" whispered Sonia.</p> + +<p>"No," answered Leo.</p> + +<p>"It is Marcus Tassler."</p> + +<p>The newcomers went up to the terrace, where Lona Ivanovna received them +with what seemed to Leo to be an air of undisguised hostility.</p> + +<p>"You come in good company, Marcus! But, to make your trio quite +complete, you should have brought the baron with you. What do you want?"</p> + +<p>Tassler went up to her; his eyes were bloodshot, and his face had +turned a sort of sickly gray color.</p> + +<p>"Baron Fayerling is here," he answered hoarsely, "he is coming +immediately; where is Sergius?"</p> + +<p>"And <i>you</i> ask for Sergius?" she exclaimed shrilly;—"you have no +right...."</p> + +<p>"Who has a better right than I?"</p> + +<p>"You have forfeited it. Besides, things have changed; I don't trust +you any longer, Marcus. Mind what you are about! The fire is kindled, +opposition awaits you at every turn—and as for Sergius, he is where +you will never get hold of him!"</p> + +<p>"Lona Ivanovna," said Tassler in a stifled voice: "I warn you, it is +impossible to stop us!"</p> + +<p>Sonia had seized Leo's hand quite unconsciously in hers, and was +squeezing it tightly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! Oh, God!" she moaned softly.</p> + +<p>Tassler turned his head and caught sight of them. Leo went up to him, +and both men raised their hats simultaneously, whilst the young man +said:</p> + +<p>"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Tassler; I am Leonard Grath. I don't +know if you have come out here to see me, but in any case...."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have come to speak to you," said the other heavily. "I hear +that you no longer wish to sell the Copper House: is that true?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly true," replied Leo politely.</p> + +<p>Marcus Tassler looked at him as though this reply was not unexpected, +and puffed away at his cigar.</p> + +<p>"My client is prepared to increase his offer," he said after a minute.</p> + +<p>Leo smiled.</p> + +<p>"It is not a question of increasing the offer, but of the entire +rejection of any offer whatsoever.... Besides, your client is Mr. +Andrei Bernin, isn't he? I have been talking to him, but he didn't +allude to the matter; it does not seem to interest him any longer," +added the young man boldly. Lona Ivanovna stood listening to them, her +eyes bright, and her lips tightly shut: but she said nothing. Tassler +turned to her:</p> + +<p>"Can I see Andrei Ivanovitch?" he asked sharply; "Rastakov tells me +that your brother is up...."</p> + +<p>The old lady turned, and went indoors.</p> + +<p>"Allow me to show you the way, gentlemen," she said, over her shoulder. +Her voice and look bore traces of an inward conflict.</p> + +<p>Another peal of thunder rumbled in the distance.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>The situation becomes acute</i></h3> + + +<p>Maurice Wallion had gone down the winding staircase just as the +gardener came into the kitchen, and from his hiding place he heard +Rosenthal inquire in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"Where is Rastakov?"</p> + +<p>A gruff voice, which obviously belonged to the man on guard by the +kitchen door, replied:</p> + +<p>"He is at the lodge."</p> + +<p>There was a little rustling sound, as Rosenthal threw the roses down on +a table, and he called out:</p> + +<p>"Here are your roses, Lona Ivanovna. I hear you have visitors, and +Tassler and the baron are expected," and without waiting for an answer, +the gardener went out again. Wallion, who had remained motionless on +the stairs, heard a distant sound from the front of the house, and +hesitated over his next move. Presently he went up to the first floor +and, after listening a little, he opened a window at the back of the +house, and jumped softly down. He slipped into the shrubbery, and +skirted the wall of the terrace until he came in sight of the main +entrance. He heard the old lady request the gentlemen to follow her, +and saw them enter the house behind her. Rastakov and the young girl +remained together, and the former said shortly:</p> + +<p>"What are you waiting for?"</p> + +<p>She went up to him, and said, in a grave voice that contrasted oddly +with her girlish appearance:</p> + +<p>"Justice must be done. That is what I am waiting for." She looked +straight at Rastakov's swarthy face, and he returned her gaze fixedly.</p> + +<p>"Justice! That is a wonderful word, Sonia Andreievna. There is no +justice nowadays; the bayonets have put an end to it. The future is +blood-red, Sonia Andreievna; don't pin your hopes to it."</p> + +<p>He spoke in a hard, bitter voice, then turned and left her.</p> + +<p>The girl put both her hands up to her face, and ran down the terrace; +like some little lost animal, she stood still, then ran on again, +crying softly to herself. At last she threw herself on to a bench, +under the shade of the syringa trees, crouched down in the farthest +corner of it, and buried her face in her arms. A low murmur of voices +could be heard through the open windows of the dining-room.</p> + +<p>Wallion, concealed by the trees, took a few steps towards the avenue, +and saw in the distance Baron Fayerling approaching, accompanied by the +lodge-keeper, Tugan, and two of the forest-guards. They were walking +briskly along, at the pace of a marching patrol. At the same moment, +the Problem-hunter made another, and far from reassuring discovery: +across the field on either side of the avenue, he noticed a number of +men, posted at equal distances from each other, and stretching as far +as the eye could reach ... a double "cordon" was being drawn round the +Copper House. Double, indeed: for when Wallion turned round, he saw +five or six fellows with guns file on to the terrace from the opposite +direction, and take up their position close to the house. No chance of +getting past them!</p> + +<p>He was caught in a trap: the outer "cordon," which embraced a +considerable area, was being gradually contracted. He calculated the +number of men to be about forty.</p> + +<p>"They have brought reinforcements," he reflected. "Something must be +going to happen; the gang is assembling—they only want the great, +invisible Gabriel Ortiz to make things complete"; and he looked all +round him, and bit his lips. A few raindrops were beginning to patter +on the dry leaves, and towards the sea, dark thunder-clouds were +gathering in heavy masses.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna appeared again; she went over to her niece and took her +by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Come indoors," she said softly and gently; "Sonia, I believe that a +miracle <i>might</i> happen, but we must keep a brave face, and never cry +for quarter."</p> + +<p>The girl got up; her eyes were dry now, and she took her aunt's hand, +like a child, and went in with her.</p> + +<p>It was very quiet in the dining-room, where the others were assembled. +Tassler was standing in the middle of the room, Leo by the window on +the right-hand side, and Rastakov—his arms theatrically folded—by the +door. No one was speaking, but it was evident that something had just +been said which astonished them, and they were all looking at the blind +man in his armchair, as though they expected him to say something more.</p> + +<p>Andrei Bernin was sitting with his white head turned towards them: now +and then, he rubbed his hands as though they were cold, but he remained +silent.</p> + +<p>"It is very strange," said Tassler at length, in a thick, grumbling +voice: "it is most extraordinary, Andrei Bernin, that you did not find +this out before. You state that you no longer wish to buy the Copper +House, because you are too poor! You owe both Mr. Grath and myself an +explanation."</p> + +<p>"I never said that I was rich enough to buy the Copper House: it is as +much as I can afford to remain here as its tenant. Why do you ask me, +Marcus, when you know that you have always managed everything?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly, I undertook to see to all your business for you. You—poor? +Why, man, you have been ill for so long, that your ideas have grown +quite hazy! Your money has multiplied enormously, invested in the +Finno-Russian Import and Export Company: don't you realize that?"</p> + +<p>Tassler spoke rapidly and loudly, as though he anticipated some +interruption; he mopped his cheeks and forehead with his handkerchief, +and looked at Andrei Bernin with a very unwonted expression of +obsequious servility.</p> + +<p>"Surely you are capable of understanding as much of your business as +that," he continued ... "of course, I have done my best for you."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," answered the blind man; "perhaps you have, Marcus; but I am +not going to buy the Copper House."</p> + +<p>Tassler lifted his small, plump hands, and turned to Lona Ivanovna.</p> + +<p>"Always the same! This poor brother of yours hasn't the slightest idea +of business! I begin to think that you must have acted on your own +responsibility during his illness. Can't you make him see reason?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think that is necessary," she answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"You don't?"</p> + +<p>"No, not since yesterday—when Sergius came here."</p> + +<p>"Sergius!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—Marcus, up to yesterday, I still believed in you, and allowed you +to act for us. That's all over. Now you must act for yourself."</p> + +<p>"And that is the most difficult of all," added the feeble voice of the +blind man, philosophically.</p> + +<p>Marcus Tassler turned distinctly paler; it was impossible to ignore the +challenge in Lona Ivanovna's tone and whole demeanor. Even Leo noticed +it, and to relieve the painful tension, he said pleasantly, and as +unconcernedly as he could:</p> + +<p>"Yes, there we are agreed, my dear Mr. Tassler. When the purchaser will +not buy, nor the seller sell, the whole transaction comes automatically +to an end. For the exact details, I must ask you to be so good as to +refer to Mr. Burchardt."</p> + +<p>Tassler turned to him, with the ponderous agility of a hippopotamus.</p> + +<p>"I will do so, Mr. Grath."</p> + +<p>"That will be all right, then."</p> + +<p>"And I shall tell him that you have refused the best offer that has +ever been made for a property," continued Tassler. "<i>My</i> conscience is +clear, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Not altogether, Marcus," said the blind man from his corner.</p> + +<p>Tassler's obsequiousness cracked like a mirror at a blow from a hammer, +and behind the mirror appeared a very different face, with angry eyes, +distorted features, and lips drawn back in an ugly snarl.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, Andrei," he cried out quickly and breathlessly: "and +you too, Lona. I can see quite well that Sergius has bewitched you. +Take care! Sergius is not what he was, he has taken the wrong road, and +anyone who shelters him is bound to be ruined."</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I want to speak to him, before it is too late."</p> + +<p>"It is <i>too</i> late, now!"</p> + +<p>"That's impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Marcus Tassler, it is all over. You cannot alter things now."</p> + +<p>"Not I, perhaps, but certainly...."</p> + +<p>"Certainly who?" a voice interrupted him, and the baron came into the +room. "Can you mean me, by any chance?"</p> + +<p>Tassler was silent. The baron had staged his entrance with the skill +and aplomb of an accomplished actor. He advanced with the friendly air +of a casual visitor, but no one could ignore the imperious gesture with +which he imposed silence upon his partner. The lash was inflicted with +a smile:</p> + +<p>"By Jove, Tassler, how you do hold forth! Madame Ivanovna, don't let us +dispute over trifles. Be so good as to introduce me to your brother and +to the owner of the Copper House."</p> + +<p>As the old lady did not move, he completed the ceremony himself, with +easy grace, pressing the blind man's passive hand, and bowing low to +Leo.</p> + +<p>"You have a remarkably fine old property, Mr. Grath," he remarked, "but +it is very much out of the world, and all sorts of queer things might +happen here, without anybody having the slightest suspicion of what was +going on. I am thinking more particularly of the case of Bernard Jenin, +and what is likely to be the result of it."</p> + +<p>He smoothed his D'Annunzio beard, looked from one face to another, and +repeated thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>"What the results may be."</p> + +<p>A pause followed these words. The blind man remarked:</p> + +<p>"Logic teaches us that one of two results will follow: either Bernard +Jenin will be captured, or he will not. I incline towards the latter +hypothesis."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" replied the baron. "Logic is a wonderful science, my dear Mr. +Bernin; I also argue logically, and I say: Bernard Jenin certainly came +to the Copper House; he certainly did not leave it again: therefore he +must still be in the Copper House. It is as easy to prove as this other +little syllogism: Thieves deserve punishment: Bernard Jenin is a thief: +therefore Bernard Jenin deserves punishment."</p> + +<p>"Are you not first bound to prove that he is a thief?" suggested Leo, +and Sonia flashed a grateful look at him.</p> + +<p>The baron affected to be much surprised, and turned courteously to the +speaker:</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he admitted, "but only to those whose business it is to +plead for the thief."</p> + +<p>Leo colored.</p> + +<p>"As the owner of the Copper House," he said more sharply, "it seems to +me that I have a right to know whether I am harboring a thief in my +house, or not."</p> + +<p>"Most assuredly. Will it content you if I can show that the fellow +robbed me?"</p> + +<p>Leo replied with a stiff bow.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Grath, allow me to inform you that an important paper—the +so-called Tarraschin memorandum—whilst on its way to me from Russia, +was stolen by Bernard Jenin, and is still in his possession. Tassler +and Rastakov are my witnesses; is that sufficient?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if no one takes exception to your statement, or to your +witnesses." Leo looked at Lona Ivanovna, but, to his surprise, she +turned her face away.</p> + +<p>The baron smiled superciliously, and the young man, irritated, he knew +not why, said deliberately:</p> + +<p>"No doubt you are right; and you are quite at liberty to call in the +police."</p> + +<p>Rastakov made an involuntary movement, but the baron checked him with a +glance, and answered:</p> + +<p>"The police? Yes, I would do so, if I had plenty of time to spare, and +if I was not unwilling to compromise my dear friends here——," and he +looked at Andrei Bernin and the two ladies. "As it is essential that I +should have the paper by this evening, I must unfortunately take the +matter into my own hands."</p> + +<p>"Leave him alone!" interrupted Lona Ivanovna harshly, turning to Leo: +"haven't you had enough of his accursed conversation?"</p> + +<p>Rastakov, Tassler and the baron burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"You are really <i>too</i> delightful, Madame!" said the last named person; +"what do you say, Mr. Grath? Have we your leave to search for Bernard +Jenin?"</p> + +<p>"I am of the same opinion as Madame Bernin," replied the young man, +with equivocal civility.</p> + +<p>Baron Fayerling's smile vanished.</p> + +<p>"Then we quite understand one another, Mr. Grath?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, baron."</p> + +<p>The baron stepped out through the open window, and shouted a few words +in Russian. A dozen figures hurried up from the terrace, and marched +noisily into the hall. The baron exchanged a couple of sentences with +Tassler, in a rapid undertone, and went out into the hall with Rastakov.</p> + +<p>Marcus Tassler sat heavily down on a chair, and stared at Lona +Ivanovna, who, with unruffled composure, had returned to her place near +her brother; she went on with her crochet and took no notice of Tassler.</p> + +<p>"What a cold-blooded woman you are, Lona," said the merchant, in a +rather faltering voice. "After all, this affects Sergius...."</p> + +<p>"No need to tell me that," she replied, shrugging her shoulders; "you +may go to your lord and master: you have nothing to do with Sergius."</p> + +<p>He was silenced by the caustic bitterness of her voice, and remained +with his mouth open, staring vaguely and irresolutely across the room +at the blind man and his sister.</p> + +<p>Sonia went quietly up to her father, and leaned her head against his +shoulder; the blind man began to stroke her black hair clumsily.</p> + +<p>Leo felt acutely distressed: these three unfortunate beings, whom he +already regarded as his friends, seemed so far from him, that he could +not summon up courage to say another word to them. They were withdrawn +into the intimacy of their home-circle, and he remained outside like +a stranger. With the agonizing sensation of being the witness of a +tragedy into whose inner meaning he had no right to intrude, he left +the room silently, without looking at them again.</p> + +<p>As he came into the hall, which was empty, a new and alarming thought +struck him; what had become of Wallion? He heard the baron's voice, +echoing sharp and clear down the well of the staircase.</p> + +<p>"Take each floor in turn, and keep guard whilst you search the rooms. +You, over there, don't pass over that corner—don't leave a stone +unturned. Rastakov, take a couple of men with you, and search the +attics thoroughly. Be sharp, now!"</p> + +<p>It was evident that the searchers meant to leave nothing to chance +this time; the furniture was moved about, the walls sounded, and the +tramp of many feet was heard in each room in turn, till the whole house +seemed full of men. If there were really anyone hidden in the Copper +House, thought Leo, he would certainly be found within ten minutes: +what was the journalist doing?</p> + +<p>The young man listened, his heart beating fast. Now they were on +the second floor, and coming to his room. He ran upstairs, with the +desperate intention of preventing them from entering, but he was too +late. As he came into the corridor, Rastakov was just leaving the room, +and Leo saw with indescribable relief, that the Russian's face was dark +with disappointment. They passed one another without a word, and Leo +shut himself quickly in.</p> + +<p>He flung himself into a chair, and buried his head in his hands; what +should he do? His mind refused to work, and he stamped his foot in +impotent vexation.</p> + +<p>Had the journalist been caught in a trap, and helplessly resigned +himself to his fate? Had he discovered Bernard Jenin's hiding-place?</p> + +<p>"Did you look in here?" he heard the baron ask just outside the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered another voice further along the passage; "Rastakov has +been there."</p> + +<p>"Go on, then."</p> + +<p>The steps and voices grew fainter. Leo had not raised his head. +Suddenly he heard a slight sound on the floor close to his feet; a +paper lay there, wrapped round a pebble. He picked it up, and saw that +there was something written on the paper; he unfolded it, and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"Don't worry, things are going as I expected. I have concluded some +useful investigations, and shall soon make myself known. M. W."</p> +</div> + +<p>Leo sprang up. The window, which had been closed earlier in the day, +had been opened later, and he realized that the little note had been +thrown in through it. But he could not see a sign of the journalist +outside. Only Rosenthal was walking slowly along, in his blue apron and +broad-brimmed straw hat.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Maurice Wallion looks about him a bit and makes a new acquaintance</i></h3> + + +<p>As soon as the Problem-hunter saw Baron Fayerling go into the Copper +House, he felt convinced that a crisis was at hand.</p> + +<p>"Fayerling's arrival is a bad sign," he thought, "I would rather see +Ortiz himself. Where on earth can he have got to?"</p> + +<p>He lay still for several minutes, wondering how he could manage to +dodge the cordon of men which was closing in round him from the +direction of the field.</p> + +<p>"It's high time I gave Robert Lang his final instructions—but how am I +going to do it?" he pondered. "It is important for me to remain here, +especially on Grath's account, as it is largely through me that he has +got into this fix. The Copper House is completely surrounded, and these +fellows would be able to shoot the lot of us, without anyone being near +enough to help us. It is odd that they should have left the telephone +at the lodge in working order, and cut off the one at the house. If +only I could get down to the lodge!"</p> + +<p>He took stock of the advancing forces, and made a wry face: as things +were, he was obliged to admit that it was impossible to get past them. +The only chance of escape was on the other side, towards the sea. He +might possibly be able to reach the railway station in some roundabout +way, and telegraph or telephone to Lang from there. He crept back along +the terrace-wall, almost within reach of the seven or eight men who +kept guard above, and began with great circumspection to make his way +seawards. He passed behind the stable and cowhouse without meeting +anybody, and as soon as he got in amongst the trees at the foot of the +ridge, he started running over the soft carpet of brown pine-needles, +and short grass. But in a few minutes, hearing steps and voices ahead +of him, he turned off to the right. He got an occasional glimpse of the +sea, gleaming through the trees, and went on boldly in that direction.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he shrank back, and crouched down behind a thick cluster of +bracken. Just where the ridge ended, on the left, he had seen three +forest-guards walking towards him, and further on his right, between +him and the sea, he espied yet another figure with a gun.</p> + +<p>Had he been seen? Apparently not, but he decided that with so many men +about, that way was impassable, too.</p> + +<p>He gazed longingly at the calm, glittering Bay, which was practically +an inland sea, the entrance being almost closed by a long, wooded +island. Exactly below him, a path ran from the house to a dilapidated +pier, on the left of which stood an even more tumble-down marine store, +or fisherman's cottage, with a tiled roof and one small, unglazed +window. A little way out from the pier was anchored a lighter, of the +type of those which one frequently sees being towed in long lines +through the island channels. A slender column of smoke was rising from +the cabin chimney, and on the gunwale sat a man in a cotton shirt, +fishing. While Wallion was watching him, he cautiously drew in his +line, and landed a fish, which gleamed like silver in the sunlight.</p> + +<p>But it was not the sight of the lonely fisherman which specially +attracted the journalist's attention: it was a long, white scar in +the side of the lighter, just above the water-line. It looked just as +though someone had taken a huge knife and made a gash three or four +yards long through the tarred planks. An ice-floe, swept along in a +strong current, might have done it—but the mark was fresh, and last +winter's ice had melted long ago, under the summer sun.</p> + +<p>Wallion roused himself from his speculations, for the men who were +descending the ridge were getting dangerously near him, and he beat a +retreat for the second time towards the house. He moved without hurry +or nervousness, but he was forced to admit that he had never been in +a tighter corner, and he felt certain that the men who now surrounded +the house had come to stay. It was worthy of notice that these extra +guards were drawn up facing the building: evidently their aim was +not so much to keep out any unauthorized visitor, as to prevent those +inside the house from getting into communication with the outer world. +Perhaps they already knew that Wallion was somewhere on the premises! +This possibility made him look serious: if they knew where he was to +be found, all was up with him. He stood still and listened. The three +men were slowly walking along behind him; on the right he could hear +other unwelcome sounds of twigs snapping and bushes rustling; there +was open ground to the left, but even that was not unoccupied—four of +the forest-guards were marching across the field in a line with his +hiding place, and if he remained there, nothing could prevent his being +discovered.</p> + +<p>"What a nuisance," he thought, with annoyance, "I have only one +resource left, and that is Rosenthal."</p> + +<p>Once more he retraced his steps, passed the cowhouse again, this time +on the other side, and scrambled over the palings into the orchard, +which at this lower end was neglected, and overgrown with tall, waving +grasses.</p> + +<p>He now found himself just behind the gardener's little red cottage, and +as he peeped cautiously round the corner, he could see one side of the +terrace, and the southern wing of the house, with the kitchen door. +He saw something else as well: that there was no chance of getting in +there now, for men were turning up on all sides, under the windows and +behind the bushes; something was going on indoors, probably a fresh +search for Bernard Jenin and the memorandum, but no voices could be +heard: an almost uncanny silence prevailed.</p> + +<p>Wallion kept close to the cottage wall, and stood on tiptoe to look +through one of the two windows. The gardener's house consisted +apparently of a living-room and a kitchen, with an adjoining +tool-house: it was at the window of the latter that he was standing. +Nobody was there: the sun shone on hoes, spades, rakes and watering +cans, shelves filled with flower pots of all sizes, worn-out scythes, +and a perfect arsenal of gardening-knives.</p> + +<p>Wallion opened the window with his penknife, and climbed in. Through a +door which stood ajar, he could see part of a room alongside: a table +by the window, with flowers growing in glasses and pots, a smaller +table with books and newspapers on it, and an old rocking-chair.</p> + +<p>And in the rocking-chair sat Rosenthal, who called out, as he caught +sight of him:</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Mr. Wallion; I was just expecting you!"</p> + +<p>The journalist stepped into the room.</p> + +<p>"Did you know that I was in this part of the world?"</p> + +<p>"I have seen you already this morning; you are every bit as venturesome +as I hoped you would be. I saw you as you were climbing in through the +window with Grath. You see, that happened to be my 'beat'; no one has +come to or from the Copper House since yesterday afternoon without my +knowledge. To avoid all misunderstanding, I may tell you that I also +observed our friend Grath's little escapade last evening."</p> + +<p>The gardener spoke very deliberately and accurately, with a slight +accent. His ruddy face and blue eyes were lighted up with pleasant +anticipation. The journalist sat down opposite, and lighted a +cigarette, first offering his case, which the other declined. They +looked at one another with an expression of mutual understanding.</p> + +<p>"You are far more daring than I," said Wallion, "since you have +ventured to live in this neighborhood for several months, Mr. Max +Raebel."</p> + +<p>The gardener got up, and shook Wallion warmly by the hand, then sat +down again, smiling all over his face.</p> + +<p>"Quite right, I am Max Raebel," he said; "how do you know that, as you +have never seen me before?"</p> + +<p>"I saw you when you were cutting roses in the garden; in talking to +Grath, you raised your head, and I recognized the best detective in +Austria, disguised as a gardener. Oh, no need to be modest about it—of +course I have heard of you a hundred times, and equally of course, I +have your portrait in my collection. I have long suspected that someone +of your calibre was taking a hand in the game, but couldn't find out +under what name that somebody was working. Since you have managed to +secure such a good place—right in the stalls!—I suppose you have +succeeded in gaining Fayerling's confidence in some extraordinary way?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, it was perfectly easy; I got a recommendation from Madame +Sumensov in Petrograd."</p> + +<p>"From Madame herself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for nobody knows as yet that she serves two masters with equal +fidelity!"</p> + +<p>"No, it is news to me. You probably know, as I do, that she is a tool +of Ortiz? Are you not afraid she may betray you to him?"</p> + +<p>"That's one possibility. Another is that I shall have finished my work +here before she can do so," replied the Austrian very calmly.</p> + +<p>He glanced out of the window.</p> + +<p>"They are beginning to get nervous," he added; "nervousness is the +beginning of panic, and panic is half-way to defeat."</p> + +<p>They both looked at the Copper House for a minute, and saw Rastakov +appear at one of the upper windows, and shout an order to the men on +the terrace. The baron came out, and looked up at him. Rastakov made +an angry gesture, implying that he had had no luck, to which the baron +replied with a shrug of his shoulders, and called out in his cool, +clear voice: "Look more carefully!"</p> + +<p>The Austrian laughed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, look, my boy, look!" he echoed.</p> + +<p>Wallion turned round.</p> + +<p>"In the meantime, Ortiz is on his way here," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other, "we are all waiting for him, aren't we?"</p> + +<p>Wallion pulled out his notebook and laid it on the table.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Max Raebel, let us compare notes: first, you have only been here +since April 29th, at all events under the name of Rosenthal. You only +began to interest yourself in Ortiz's affairs after the Tarraschin +document appeared on the scene; therefore this document is what you are +on the look-out for: may I ask why?"</p> + +<p>The Austrian's fair face and friendly eyes clouded over a little, and +he did not answer immediately.</p> + +<p>"I am no politician," he said finally; "I am a detective, and sent out +with a definite end in view. My task is to make sure that Tarraschin's +memorandum does not fall among thieves, to prevent it from being +illegally employed, and, in the last resort, to destroy it. One of +the statesmen of my country, whose name you may perhaps guess, but I +must not mention, would be deeply compromised were that document to be +unscrupulously handled."</p> + +<p>The Austrian bent forward.</p> + +<p>"And not only he, but a more exalted personage still," he added.</p> + +<p>Wallion opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Aha," he said, "that is worse than I feared!" He considered a little. +"I took it for granted that Tarraschin's scheme affected Russia only."</p> + +<p>The Austrian shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you something, Mr. Wallion; everything that happens +nowadays is of world-wide importance; all that concerns Tarraschin's +memorandum is highly characteristic of the circumstances which have +produced it. Look back a bit; the Russian Revolution had long been +expected, but who could have foretold that it would break out in March, +1917? It fell upon Europe like an avalanche, the sudden upheaval of a +mighty mass; and not as the immediate result of some great ideal, or +political disturbance, but apparently in consequence of the scarcity +of food at Petrograd. At all events, the way was prepared for it, and +once set going, the landslide crashed down into the depths, leaving +devastation in its wake. Was it possible to restore order? This was +a question in which all countries were interested. Before anything +else, it was of the utmost importance to ascertain the policy of the +Russian Conservative party, the State officials, the officers of the +army, and certain members of the Tsar's immediate 'entourage'—all +those, in a word, who belonged to the governing class. Would they be +strong enough to organize a counter-revolution before the new men had +grown powerful enough to check them? Even on March 15th, the Tsar had +virtually abdicated the throne; was that a sign of the disintegration +and consequent ineffectiveness of the reactionary party? No, for +they still had a symbol round which to rally: there was the army. At +that moment, Prince Tarraschin appeared on the scene. Do you know his +history?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, more or less. He was one of the most typical leaders of the old +régime. It was he who got the reputation of having run through one +fortune every year! He was a daring politician, and a friend of the +Grand Duke Nicolai—an intelligent man, and perhaps an honorable one, +according to his lights."</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt as to his intelligence," said the Austrian; "now +let me tell you what he did. One can hardly say that the Revolution +ruined him, for he had just about ruined himself. But he could not +bring himself to accept it: to him, the Revolution was the end of all +things. His one idea was that power and mastery must be regained at +any cost. He set to work undauntedly, and for a short time it looked +as though he would succeed in winning over the strongest element in +the Conservative party to his cause. He drew up an ingenious scheme +of counter-revolution; he had two methods of dealing with waverers: +promises and money. The history of Tarraschin's promises you have +probably never heard: it is like a fairy tale."</p> + +<p>"Go on, go on," said Wallion, as the Austrian stopped; "I know +something about Tarraschin's correspondence with certain individuals in +Austria."</p> + +<p>Max Raebel raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"You know that, do you? But you say 'certain individuals,' there was +only one, the Austrian statesman to whom I alluded just now. The +highly confidential correspondence between him and Tarraschin had to +do with Balkan affairs, and was concluded before the outbreak of the +March Revolution. There was no question, as people declared, of any +understanding with Austria, in the event of the establishment of a +democratic Russian monarchy desirous of peace; it was an absolutely +private discussion between two political specialists, so to speak; yet +at this crisis, Tarraschin did not hesitate to avail himself of this +correspondence. He represented my countryman's statements in the light +of promises inspired by a higher authority, an authority which had, +as the whole world knew, an intense desire for peace. In this way, +Tarraschin managed to secure one more means of support, calculated to +strengthen the weaker brethren amongst the reactionaries. It mattered +nothing to him that he was compromising two of the most highly-placed +dignitaries in my country. Next, as regards funds——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, there our paths meet, Mr. Raebel," broke in Wallion; "the funds +for Tarraschin's intended revolution were supplied by Gabriel Ortiz."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Ortiz financed the enterprise through a channel, at one +end of which we find Tassler and Fayerling, but at the other, Madame +Sumensov and Tarraschin. How much gold has been distributed by their +means, is more than I can say."</p> + +<p>"I can give you a rough estimate: it was, in round numbers, fifteen to +twenty million roubles."</p> + +<p>The Austrian laughed.</p> + +<p>"Really! A perfect fortune, and the last which Tarraschin had the +pleasure of squandering, for, as you know, he died suddenly on the 29th +of March. There is no doubt that he was assassinated, and not by the +revolutionaries, but by his own friends."</p> + +<p>For the first time during their conversation the journalist looked +surprised.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean his political associates?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes. They were mortally afraid, as soon as they realized how +irretrievably Tarraschin was about to compromise them. Instead of +replacing the crown on the Tsar's head, they were in danger of finding +their own heads removed from their shoulders. And with characteristic +Russian philosophy they said to themselves: 'It is better that one +man die for the people.'... Nevertheless, our friend Tarraschin had +already done his worst: he had drawn up a detailed memorandum of the +plans for the counter-revolution, in which he had set down with the +most scrupulous exactitude what each one of the participators had +pledged himself to do—with name, place and time, in full; everything +very skilfully thought out, and perfectly feasible, and from a military +point of view, quite certain to result in over a hundred executions. +And, in addition, as I said just now, it compromised two persons who, +like Cæsar's wife, must be above suspicion."</p> + +<p>"One might fancy," remarked the journalist, "that Ortiz had had a hand +in the production."</p> + +<p>"Not a doubt of it: he would want some hold over the men who were +receiving his money, and with this paper in his possession he can +compel them to do anything he likes. Tarraschin's death is of no +consequence in comparison with the possibilities raised by his +memorandum. It constitutes the keystone of Ortiz's gigantic scheme: +without the memorandum, the whole of his plan will melt into thin air."</p> + +<p>"And in consequence, we can pretty well guess his present designs," +supplied Wallion.</p> + +<p>They looked at one another.</p> + +<p>"He is magnificent!" said the Austrian.</p> + +<p>"But quite mad!" replied Wallion.</p> + +<p>A step was heard outside the window, and a shadow fell across the +glass. It was Rastakov. The journalist flattened himself against the +wall, with a noiseless wriggle of his body. The gardener got slowly up, +yawned loudly, and opened the window.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, Rastakov?"</p> + +<p>The man outside was breathing heavily.</p> + +<p>"Why are you not with us, Rosenthal? The baron wants to know if you +have seen anyone leave the Copper House; we cannot find Bernard Jenin +anywhere."</p> + +<p>"I have not seen any unauthorized person leave the house," said the +gardener; "why is the baron so persistent? I told you yesterday evening +that Bernard Jenin had disappeared, Comrade Rastakov."</p> + +<p>"He cannot have disappeared. He must be somewhere on the premises. The +baron has decided that the house and its surroundings are to be totally +isolated, I can tell you that. All those inside are prisoners, even +Grath. Be ready for anything; the Chief is due this evening, and within +the next twenty-four hours we shall probably have cleared out of this."</p> + +<p>"You may depend upon me," the gardener reassured him.</p> + +<p>Rastakov stood for a minute, shifting undecidedly from one foot to +another, then took his departure.</p> + +<p>The Austrian's face wore a new expression of military decision and +firmness.</p> + +<p>"Well, they have burnt their boats now!" said he; "and may I be there +to see the end of it," he added after a pause.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>In which we catch a glimpse of the shadow of Napoleon the Great</i></h3> + + +<p>The Problem-hunter and the Austrian detective remained standing +together, and watching from behind the curtains a commotion at the +house. Some kind of dispute seemed to be taking place there, the cause +of which became apparent when they heard Lona Ivanovna's commanding +voice exclaiming: "Out you all go!"</p> + +<p>Quite a number of men came tumbling out on to the terrace, and the old +lady appeared behind them at the kitchen door; she was like a Valkyrie +of old, and the men quailed before her as trees bend before a gale.</p> + +<p>"Why, goodness me, men, you have your precious master there, haven't +you?" said she, pointing one long, bony finger at the baron; "he can +tell you that there isn't a spot the size of a farthing in this house, +which hasn't been examined. You can all see that Bernard Jenin is not +here; ask your Roumanian baron if he can suggest any corner in which a +fugitive could still be hidden."</p> + +<p>"That will do, madam," said the baron, sourly; "we have not finished +yet: we know what we know...."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you don't know what I know, for all that!"</p> + +<p>"And what may that be?"</p> + +<p>"That you are a worthy leader of the biggest set of blockheads I have +ever seen!" answered the old lady, with a loud laugh, as she shut the +door again.</p> + +<p>Baron Fayerling shrugged his shoulders, and went off with Rastakov; +Marcus Tassler hurried after them, and the three men disappeared down +the avenue. But they left the house under the close supervision of a +cordon of dark, determined, armed men, who, after a few apparently +aimless movements in different directions, extended their line in such +a way as to include the gardener's cottage within its limits.</p> + +<p>The two detectives at the window commented on this fresh turn of events +with critical approval, rather as though they had been two spectators +in a box at the Opera.</p> + +<p>"Rastakov has managed that well," said Wallion, smiling; "now all the +approaches to the house are effectively isolated—and we with them."</p> + +<p>At that instant, a sharp shower that almost amounted to a squall, swept +over the garden, whirling away, like a gray specter, across the woods +to the southwest. A deep stillness followed; everything was motionless, +and each little leaf shone like glass in the hot, dazzling sunshine. +The broad expanse of the steep copper roof, which was green with +verdigris, took on a more richly enameled glow, and the very roses in +the garden seemed to deepen in color.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> are isolated," said the Austrian after a moment's silence, "but +<i>I</i> have a certain amount of liberty—don't forget that I am one of +them—for the time being."</p> + +<p>The journalist laughed.</p> + +<p>"What's become of your two under-gardeners?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Rastakov has mobilized them."</p> + +<p>"Are they...."</p> + +<p>"They are nothing more nor less than—Bolsheviks!"</p> + +<p>It was the first time that the word had been mentioned by either of +them, and Wallion bent forward.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that for certain? I presume you have discovered that +Rastakov has dealings with the Bolshevik gang?"</p> + +<p>The other nodded.</p> + +<p>"It set me thinking," he admitted; "they support Ortiz with +extraordinary keenness, though I don't believe he half knows what ideas +Rastakov cherishes inside that ugly mug of his. Of the men he has under +his orders, half, to my knowledge, are Bolsheviks, that is, they belong +to the extremist party which is working to overthrow Kerensky. Ortiz is +working for that also, but from another motive.</p> + +<p>"The situation is involved, and if Rastakov gets to know the real +import of Tarraschin's memorandum, there may be a surprise in store for +our friend Ortiz."</p> + +<p>"A Bolshevik revolt is in progress at Petrograd at the present time," +remarked Wallion, thoughtfully; "all depends upon what Ortiz intends +to do. Do you think he is still there?"</p> + +<p>"At Petrograd? I did not know he was there at all: I imagined him to be +in Finland!" exclaimed the Austrian.</p> + +<p>"Yes, at the beginning of this week I could tell, by various signs, +that he was in Petrograd. But now that the Tarraschin memorandum has +been snatched from under his very nose, he is naturally coming here, +and should arrive this evening, at latest."</p> + +<p>"Yes, as soon as it is dark enough."</p> + +<p>"Does he always come at night?"</p> + +<p>"Always, since the end of March."</p> + +<p>"I guessed as much," said the journalist, "when I saw how the side of +the lighter had been knocked about: some sort of craft had evidently +come alongside in the dark. But tell me, why does that blue light, +which looks like an acetylene flare, appear every evening?"</p> + +<p>"It is some kind of signal which they show from the lighter, and it +burns every evening at such times as Ortiz is expected. They do it +these nights, especially, as they are engaged in shifting a secret +cargo on board the lighter."</p> + +<p>"A secret cargo? Arms, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a good deal of stuff was brought here on the motor-launch +<i>Nelly's</i> contraband trips. It was a sad blow for Ortiz when the +<i>Nelly</i> was captured, but, as one would expect, they had obliterated +all traces very skilfully, and the police made no search here. There +are still several thousand Mauser rifles, packed in wine-cases, as +well as a quantity of other articles, calculated to influence Russian +opinion as regards the reactionary program!"</p> + +<p>Whilst the Austrian talked, he was unconsciously smelling a fragrant, +red rose, which he had picked up, and his voice was as unruffled as a +mild spring day.</p> + +<p>"Where did they store all those things before they were moved to the +lighter?" asked Wallion.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that down in your notes, yet?" retorted the other, looking up +from his rose with a smile.</p> + +<p>"I was looking round a bit, and it struck me what a good hiding place +there would be under the hay in the cowhouse."</p> + +<p>"You've hit it! What sharp eyes you have! But I don't think we need +waste much time over contraband goods. Only a minimum of weapons have +been despatched from here; Ortiz has probably bought the greater +part of his stock in Russia itself, for the ruffians who once formed +the Tsar's fine army, sell everything they can lay hands on—rifles, +machine-guns, ammunition, everything—even heavy artillery! And to +anyone who wants them! And cheap!—eight or ten roubles for a nice +little cannon: five for a machine-gun."</p> + +<p>The Austrian burst out laughing, and Wallion smiled.</p> + +<p>"These are fine times for adventurers," said he; "we need only look out +of the window to see that. What an extraordinarily tangled web the War +has woven in this one little spot. Bernard Jenin with the Tarraschin +memorandum: Baron Fayerling and Marcus Tassler with Ortiz' millions: +Rastakov with his Bolsheviks: the Bernin family: the question of +contraband: and at the back of them all, the hitherto invisible Gabriel +Ortiz, with his shadowy and fantastic schemes."</p> + +<p>"If we could get hold of the memorandum, we could break up the whole +gang," interrupted the Austrian; "if only I knew what they had done +with Jenin!"</p> + +<p>"You still think he is in the house?" asked the journalist, with an odd +smile.</p> + +<p>"Most assuredly, for he has never left it, that I can swear to. You +have not once gone in or out unobserved: <i>I</i> saw you. Oh, he is +certainly there—but where?"</p> + +<p>Maurice Wallion wrote a few lines on a piece of paper, and handed it to +his companion.</p> + +<p>"Will you do me the favor of getting this in some way or other to +Leonard Grath?" he said. "I won't show myself yet, though there is +little more for us to talk about, except the beginning of all these +mysteries. Perhaps you never heard of the Emperor of the Amazons?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the gardener, looking surprised.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll tell you about him; I'll wait for you here, whilst you +deliver my message to Grath."</p> + +<p>The other man looked curiously at him, and said: "Good! I can see +you are better informed on some subjects than I am. You stay here, +and if you think you hear anyone else coming, just go into the +tool-house—you'll be safe there—or go up into the loft."</p> + +<p>He indicated a wooden staircase in the corner, took up the note, and +went out. Wallion watched him from the window go slowly up the garden, +and disappear round the house. Dark faces popped up here and there +behind the bushes at the sound of his footsteps, but on seeing that it +was Rosenthal, they vanished again noiselessly.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later he returned, and Wallion noticed, with some +annoyance, that he was now accompanied by two stalwart forest-guards, +of a peculiarly bovine cast of countenance.</p> + +<p>The three men stopped outside the door, and a lively conversation +followed, in which they were joined by five or six of the other men, +who came strolling up to listen. Suddenly a name was mentioned which +made the journalist prick up his ears.</p> + +<p>"Wallion isn't far off," said one of the men.</p> + +<p>"And who may he be?" growled another.</p> + +<p>"Rastakov says he is a detective. It looks as though we may have to get +out of this to-night, if we have a fellow of that sort on our track, +but if he turns up before we are ready to quit, I guess he'll find +trouble awaiting him. We needn't be too particular now, you know!"</p> + +<p>"But how shall we get away from here?" asked a doubtful voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother me, that's the Chief's look-out: he'll see to that +when he comes. What are you going to do, Rosenthal?"</p> + +<p>"Go indoors, and get a bit of sleep," replied the gardener. "I was on +guard all last night, it's your turn now; besides, we've all got to be +up to-night."</p> + +<p>A chorus of protest greeted this announcement, but Rosenthal dispersed +them with a few vigorous expressions, and, as soon as they were gone, +he opened the door, and came in to his visitor.</p> + +<p>"Grath has got your note," he said quietly. "I threw it in at his +window, and made sure that he had picked it up, before I came away. Did +you hear what those fellows were saying?"</p> + +<p>"I seem to be in great demand!" replied Wallion.</p> + +<p>"They believe that you are on your way here; two men are awaiting +your arrival at the station, and others are patrolling the roads. +Practically the whole gang is assembled here, and ripe for anything. +The baron has shown them your portrait, so they know what you look +like, and if you attempt to leave here, and to get into communication +with your friends, you had better take the precaution of having an +aeroplane handy!"</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly stop where I am: it's very cosy here," said Wallion. +"But where did the baron get a picture of me?"</p> + +<p>"He probably cut it out of some newspaper. What do you say to having a +bit of lunch, whilst we discuss the situation?"</p> + +<p>"I say yes, with all my heart," laughed the journalist. "Can we count +on being left in peace for so long?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, on the whole. The baron and Tassler have returned to Stockholm, +and are not expected back for three or four hours: this is the calm +before the storm."</p> + +<p>The Austrian set to work on his preparations for lunch with the skill +of an old campaigner, and the journalist lent a hand, so that in a +quarter of an hour's time they were sitting down to a simple but +plentiful meal.</p> + +<p>When they had finished, Wallion lighted a cigarette, leaned back in his +chair, and looked at his watch.</p> + +<p>"Three o'clock," he remarked. "Let's have a chat, before things get +going again."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Austrian eagerly. "You mentioned a very curious title: +'Emperor of the Amazons,' I think it was; what sort of a Royal Nonesuch +was he?"</p> + +<p>"You don't know the history of Gabriel Ortiz's earlier fortunes, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, does it concern him? No, I have never heard his story: it ought to +be an interesting one: let's hear it, at all events."</p> + +<p>The journalist gave a brief sketch of Ortiz' youthful escapade in +Paris, his rash adventure as Emperor of the Amazons, and his daring +finance as the "Coffee-King" of Wall Street. The Austrian listened with +breathless interest, and as Wallion finished, he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"All this is new to me. One may call it a fit prelude to the great +drama of his life. That he imagines himself to be descended from the +great Napoleon, explains a good deal; he is not the first to delude +himself with that fable, and I daresay that he, like most of the other +'soi-disant' descendants of Napoleon, has altogether omitted to provide +any proofs of his statement?"</p> + +<p>"He stated that his grandfather was a natural son of Napoleon the +Great, born during his captivity at St. Helena; the mother was said to +be a young Creole, named Anita Ortiz. To begin with, Gabriel Ortiz' +father, at that time a wealthy Brazilian citizen, became acquainted +with the great secret of his family, and for many years he sought +in vain to establish the facts. After the Amazon adventure, Ortiz +was interviewed by an American reporter, and was simple enough to +boast that, with his noble birth, and his genius, he would show the +world once again to what heights a descendant of Napoleon could +rise. The result was, that the well-known Professor Hichens devoted +twenty minutes of his valuable time to our friend, and within that +time, completely annihilated his claim. The Professor proved that +no woman named Anita Ortiz had ever been at St. Helena at the time +specified, and that all the so-called natural descendants of the +imprisoned Emperor had been shown beyond a doubt to be impostors. As +far as I know, Gabriel Ortiz had nothing to say in reply. The whole +thing was simply the creation of a young man's imagination, but very +characteristic of this particular man."</p> + +<p>"It is certainly most remarkable," said the Austrian thoughtfully. "I +have seen him out here twice, and he really does very strongly resemble +the Little Gray Corporal. He is short, pale and clean-shaven, with +thin dark hair, which he wears brushed over his forehead, a determined +mouth, and dark, gray-blue eyes, expressive of a despotic will and a +love of power. One is almost tempted to think...."</p> + +<p>Wallion interrupted him:</p> + +<p>"Don't let us worry ourselves over it, it doesn't really affect the +case: we can allow that Ortiz has a genuine talent for play-acting, +can't we? The important thing is to anticipate his wild schemes before +it is too late. Everything depends upon who has the Tarraschin document +in his possession by the end of to-day: and to get hold of it, we have +only to find Bernard Jenin."</p> + +<p>"Which is not going to be so easy as you seem to think!" said the +Austrian, rather abruptly. "My dear Mr. Wallion, don't underrate the +baron and Rastakov: they are admirable sleuth-hounds, though they have +had no luck so far."</p> + +<p>"And, therefore," retorted the journalist, "it must be a point of honor +with us to beat them at their own game! Don't you yourself insist that +Jenin must still be in the Copper House, living or dead? Why, my good +sir, the Copper House isn't like London: a man hidden in it can't +remain hidden indefinitely, after all! The sooner we can get speech +with him, the sooner we shall be able to control the entire situation. +I suggest...."</p> + +<p>He paused, frowning a little, then smiled and continued:</p> + +<p>"Of course, we must proceed with a certain amount of diplomacy, and +whatever happens, we must start with Lona Ivanovna as our ally; I'll +see to all that."</p> + +<p>"Have you a plan?"</p> + +<p>"I have three! But before anything else, you must, on my behalf, get +into communication with Robert Lang. You need only say a few words to +him, he will know what he has to do. Do you think you can manage it?"</p> + +<p>The Austrian nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can telephone at any time from the lodge; in case of need, I +have these to back me up," and he pointed with grim satisfaction to his +hip-pockets, in each of which reposed a burnished steel "Browning," of +the most powerful pattern.</p> + +<p>"I can make things pretty hot for them, if the worst comes to the +worst," he added; "this is my last resource, and when I use it, it will +mean that my own life is at stake. None of us will come out of this +alive, if they discover us too soon, but I think we still have a good +chance. What am I to tell your friend Lang?"</p> + +<p>Wallion considered:</p> + +<p>"Tell him that there is no need to get anxious about the baron and +Rastakov until they get back here, which they should be allowed to +do unmolested, though under surveillance. Also say to him that +'to-night's the night'.... Hallo, what's that?"</p> + +<p>He leaned forward and looked out of the window.</p> + +<p>"What is that young scatterbrain up to now?"</p> + +<p>Leo had come out of the house, accompanied by Sonia Bernin. The young +man seemed to have some special object in view, for, as the journalist +watched him, he ran quickly across the terrace, followed by the girl.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Lona Ivanovna asks a second question and gets an unexpected reply</i></h3> + + +<p>As soon as Leo had read Wallion's message, a feeling of great relief +came over him. For the first time he dared to confess to himself that +he had been on the point of giving up hope altogether. The realization +of Baron Fayerling's true character had brought home to him his own +utter helplessness. No one knew better than he that the isolated +position of the Copper House gave, for the time being, a tremendous +advantage to this dangerous gang; the baron's high-handed proceedings +had also made him fear that the journalist—his only friend at this +crisis—had already been secretly done away with. But the little +slip of paper, so unexpectedly flung through his window, came like a +sunbeam into a darkened room: Wallion was evidently still free, and +at work. How, under present conditions, he had managed to evade the +enemy, was more than Leo could imagine, but the mere knowledge of the +fact exhilarated him like a glass of champagne; he drew a deep breath, +and his mind, which had seemed frozen, began to work once more. The +situation was, after all, full of possibilities as long as Wallion +was anywhere in the neighborhood. The wish to do something himself +returned to Leo with double force, and one idea after another chased +through his active brain; he had a dangerous craving to lend a hand, +to surprise his friend by some clever move, some stroke of genius that +might even settle the whole affair for good.</p> + +<p>He thrust the note into his waistcoat pocket, left his room, and ran +whistling downstairs.</p> + +<p>In the hall he found Lona Ivanovna, very quiet, and with a look of +painfully-concentrated thought on her thin face. He noticed at once +that the guard by the door had disappeared, and that quite a new kind +of silence reigned over the house; a silence that kept one's ears and +nerves perpetually on the stretch. The rooms, whose doors stood open +on every side of the hall, gave one the impression of having only just +been vacated, and that at any minute something might happen in them.</p> + +<p>A flash of lightning flickered from the heavy bank of clouds outside, +like the expiring ray of a searchlight, and was followed by a low growl +of very distant thunder.</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna turned, as she heard the young man's step on the stairs.</p> + +<p>"They have gone," said she, "and they have not found him yet."</p> + +<p>Leo glowed with satisfaction: for the first time the pugnacious old +lady addressed him in the friendly tone hitherto reserved for her +brother and Sonia. He was quite pleased to hear that Bernard Jenin had +not been found, but that was not the most important thing from his +point of view.</p> + +<p>"Has the baron gone away?" he asked, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he went just now, with that miserable creature Tassler. But +it's too soon to rejoice, my boy, Rastakov is left behind, and we are +prisoners," she added in a dry sarcastic tone, as if she found this +fact rather amusing.</p> + +<p>"Prisoners!" echoed Leo; "how can that be? You must be joking. There is +no prison here."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, how shall I make you understand!" she muttered, scratching +her forehead with her crochet-hook; "have you ever been in the fortress +of St. Peter and St. Paul?"</p> + +<p>"No, never!" cried Leo, considerably taken aback.</p> + +<p>"So I should think. But <i>I</i> have! It was in the days when I used to +throw bombs," she said confidentially; "well, it would have been easier +to escape from Peter and Paul than to get out of the Copper House now. +Of course, I was young then...."</p> + +<p>Leo stared at her, opened his mouth and—remained silent. He went over +to the glass door, threw it open, and hurried out on to the terrace.</p> + +<p>"Where are you off to?" demanded Rastakov, appearing in front of him, +with his right hand in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Whatever business is it of yours!" retorted Leo furiously. "How dare +you speak to me like that! I go where I choose."</p> + +<p>Rastakov sneered provokingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, after eleven or twelve o'clock to-night, maybe; but until then +you have got to keep quiet, or you may find yourself taken elsewhere +first thing in the morning. Go indoors, and get your friends to amuse +you; we have a small job on out here, and don't want to be interfered +with: so that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>Leo took a couple of steps towards him, but the man quietly drew a huge +revolver from his pocket; his face was grim and watchful.</p> + +<p>"I mean it!" he said; "go indoors."</p> + +<p>Leo looked all round him; he could not repress a shudder as he counted +nine or ten armed men posted in front of the house, and he guessed that +it would be equally well guarded on the remaining sides; Lona Ivanovna +was right: they were prisoners.</p> + +<p>"You must be mad!" he exclaimed; "we are not in Russia. I have only to +report this to the police, and you would all be arrested."</p> + +<p>"Do so, by all means," replied the other scornfully; "perhaps you would +like me to send the message for you!"</p> + +<p>"I shall—I shall...."</p> + +<p>Leo checked himself, and turned back into the house. He was angry with +himself, with Rastakov, with the whole world; he was aware that he +played a sorry figure, and the knowledge did not improve his temper. +However, the recollection of Wallion's message was some consolation, +and by the time he saw Lona Ivanovna again in the hall, he was able to +speak to her almost cheerfully:</p> + +<p>"I must borrow one of those bombs of yours: I have had a dispute with +Rastakov, and couldn't find any argument strong enough to convince him."</p> + +<p>She stopped working, laid her bony hand on his arm, and said, with a +weary little laugh:</p> + +<p>"My boy, it is many years since I imagined that I could set the world +to rights with a handful of dynamite in a sardine tin: gunpowder, or +words, it all comes to the same in the long run."</p> + +<p>They entered the drawing-room as she was speaking, and the blind man's +feeble voice chimed in:</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are right, it doesn't matter: it all ends in noise. Though a +bomb is more straightforward, it seems to me," he added thoughtfully, +and as if to himself.</p> + +<p>This appeared to be a topic they had often discussed before, and Lona +Ivanovna immediately joined issue with her brother.</p> + +<p>"Not a single bomb that was ever thrown has improved the world in any +way. It was the folly of youth that blinded us to the truth, when we +were striving so desperately to bring about Russia's freedom. Russia +<i>is</i> free now, but it is not our bombs that have brought it about."</p> + +<p>"Possibly," answered Andrei Bernin, his voice sounding somewhat +stronger; "but it is not finished yet. Who knows whether in this very +house...."</p> + +<p>His sister made a sudden movement, and he was silent.</p> + +<p>After a pause he asked:</p> + +<p>"Is the young man here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is here. Rastakov has just told him that he cannot leave the +house.... Would you like to speak to him?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to do so," said Andrei Bernin; "let me give you a piece +of advice, Mr. Grath: leave this place as soon as you can."</p> + +<p>"How can I do that? You heard...."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, but give them your word that you will say nothing, and they +will let you go. It will be better for you."</p> + +<p>"He is right," said Lona Ivanovna, softly; "I will tell you the truth: +we who are obliged to stop here are expecting nothing less than a +catastrophe. I know you want to help us, but what can you do by +yourself? You can leave us with a clear conscience."</p> + +<p>"But you? What will you do?"</p> + +<p>"We? Oh, it will soon be over, we must just have patience."</p> + +<p>Before Leo could reply, Sonia sprang up, her eyes wide open, her hands +clutching at her throat.</p> + +<p>"Patience! I hate that word," she exclaimed. "I will not be patient, I +want to see those wretches beaten, who are using Russia's misery as a +stepping-stone for their own fortunes. It is cowardly to be patient, +and I won't...."</p> + +<p>Her voice broke, and she turned and went quickly out of the room. Her +passionate words left the others silent; they scarcely ventured to look +at one another, but at last Leo said:</p> + +<p>"She is right. What you said was kindly meant and I am grateful, but +let me tell you in my turn that I have no intention of leaving here. I +am not a pessimist, and I am intensely anxious to see what will happen, +especially as the matter concerns my own house."</p> + +<p>He waited an instant for their reply, but none was forthcoming. Andrei +Bernin sank back among his cushions, and his sister remained standing +by the window. Leo bowed, and went out to see what had become of +Sonia; she had not gone further than the stairs, where he found her +leaning against the banister. She turned her face to him with a dazed +expression, and, in her black dress, she looked so small and frail, +that the young man seized her little sunburnt hands impulsively, and +said:</p> + +<p>"Try to be patient a little longer, won't you? Perhaps help is nearer +than you think."</p> + +<p>"It will have to come pretty quickly, then," she answered in a low +voice; "all the same, I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>Leo did not know what to say next. A vague masculine sympathy prompted +him to try and console her, but he knew instinctively that she would +take it amiss. She drew her hands away, and said gravely:</p> + +<p>"There is no need for you to trouble yourself about us; we have been +uninvited guests in your house, but it won't last much longer; in a +short time we shall have gone for good."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but look here!" he cried out impetuously; "that is just what I +don't want, I ask nothing better than to know more of you, to be one of +your best friends; you persist in keeping me at a distance!"</p> + +<p>"You mustn't say that!" whispered Sonia, blushing deeply: "You +understand something of what we are suffering: a man's life is at +stake, and we are bound to keep silence for his sake...."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Sergius?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered softly. "He is hidden here, in spite of all their +searching; he is my cousin."</p> + +<p>This piece of news struck the young man like a flash of lightning.</p> + +<p>"Your cousin! Bernard Jenin your cousin! That explains it. Then he must +be...."</p> + +<p>"Lona Ivanovna's son." Sonia completed the sentence. Leo's hands +trembled with excitement. He felt that Wallion ought to know this at +once, and he looked round the hall, almost as though he expected the +journalist to be somewhere in it.</p> + +<p>"Come!" he exclaimed, "come! You ought to have told me that before. We +must go straight to him."</p> + +<p>"To whom?"</p> + +<p>"Maurice Wallion."</p> + +<p>The girl gave a little cry.</p> + +<p>"Is he here?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. But we must find out where he is."</p> + +<p>Leo had no plan, no idea of what he was going to do. It did not occur +to him that by acting too precipitately he might spoil everything, he +was only conscious of a frantic desire to do something before it was +too late, and he rushed off, dragging the girl after him.</p> + +<p>They ran like two children through the silent house, and Leo began to +call Wallion loudly by name.</p> + +<p>"No, no," the girl hushed him; "don't call, they may hear us."</p> + +<p>"We must find him! If Bernard Jenin can hide himself, Wallion can do +the same."</p> + +<p>"No," said she, "your friend couldn't hide himself here, in the way +that Sergius has done."</p> + +<p>Leo felt that she was speaking the truth. She knew, then, where Jenin +was hidden.</p> + +<p>"Then it's impossible," he faltered dejectedly; "Wallion can't be here +after all."</p> + +<p>"No, he certainly isn't inside the Copper House."</p> + +<p>Leo began to wonder whether the journalist had abandoned them to +their fate, and his eyes grew dim, but he shook off the feeling of +hopelessness which was stealing over him, and said quickly:</p> + +<p>"He must be somewhere close by."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, they went boldly out by the kitchen door, and took +the path to the garden, their intention being to walk right round the +house, in defiance of their jailers.</p> + +<p>Rastakov was fortunately not to be seen, but four or five of the +sentries shouted to them from a distance.</p> + +<p>The girl, who was the more level-headed of the two, picked a rose, and +arranged it deliberately in the lapel of her coat.</p> + +<p>"Look as unconcerned as you can," she whispered. "They oughtn't to mind +our taking a breath of fresh air: when they calm down, we will continue +our round...."</p> + +<p>But at this moment an unforeseen obstacle blocked their way. Rosenthal +came striding towards them from the gardener's cottage, and as soon as +he was within speaking distance, he called out in a threatening voice:</p> + +<p>"Hallo, my young cockerel, what are you doing out here?"</p> + +<p>Leo grew white with rage, and replied furiously:</p> + +<p>"Mind what you're saying!"</p> + +<p>Rosenthal closed with him, and gave him a formidable blow with his +fist, on the point of the chin. Leo staggered back, but noticed with +surprise that the blow was not so severe in reality as in appearance. +And, next minute, he could hardly believe his own ears, when Rosenthal +said, almost inaudibly:</p> + +<p>"Hit me back, make the hell of a row, it's for your own advantage!"</p> + +<p>The man's eyes were on a level with his, and he was aware of an +extraordinarily humorous look in them. But, the next instant, the +gardener was bellowing at the top of his voice:</p> + +<p>"I'll teach you! Ha! You'd hit me back, would you! Come on then!"</p> + +<p>He aimed another blow at Leo, who parried it mechanically, and in +another moment they were at it, hammer and tongs, making a fearful din, +though not before Rosenthal had whispered again:</p> + +<p>"Hit me, shout, and make as much noise as you can! You will soon know +the reason."</p> + +<p>A whole crowd of Rastakov's men collected round them, laughing loudly, +and Rastakov himself came hurrying up, looking exceedingly put out. +Leo and Rosenthal were pounding one another to the accompaniment of an +uninterrupted flow of strong language from the latter.</p> + +<p>"What's all this?" Rastakov's voice broke in sharply: "Back to your +posts, every one of you! Give it him well, Rosenthal: but you had +better leave enough life in the puppy for him to be able to crawl +indoors again."</p> + +<p>The combatants were separated, and Leo, still giddy with astonishment, +stood staring about him for a minute, then turned and reëntered the +house without a word.</p> + +<p>Sonia joined him with a radiant face.</p> + +<p>"That <i>was</i> clever of you!" she said with boyish enthusiasm: "I wish +you had killed him!"</p> + +<p>"Killed him!" stammered the bewildered young man; "Rosenthal—didn't +you hear—he said...."</p> + +<p>But he found himself quite unable to explain what had happened: he had +a general impression of having had a fight with a good-natured giant, +who had been pommeling him out of sheer good will. He hurried in to +the brother and sister Bernin, and sat down near them, panting. Lona +Ivanovna, who was still standing by the window, turned to him and said +dryly:</p> + +<p>"May I ask the meaning of that comedy, Mr. Grath? I was watching all +the time, and neither of you struck a single blow in earnest."</p> + +<p>Leo saw with mortification a change in the expression of Sonia's face.</p> + +<p>"Weren't you really fighting?" she asked in a disappointed voice. He +made a poor attempt at a smile.</p> + +<p>"Either Rosenthal or I must be mad," he said frankly: "the man told me +to make as much noise as I could."</p> + +<p>"Oh-h," said the old lady, slowly: "is <i>that</i> it!" Her bright, +bird-like eyes shone, and she added softly:</p> + +<p>"That being the case, I wonder if your friend Mr. Wallion would be so +kind as to come in now...."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, with the greatest pleasure," replied the journalist, coming in +from the hall. "Your powers of observation do you credit, Madame."</p> + +<p>His entrance seemed as though worked by magic: had he fallen from the +sky? Even the blind man half rose from his chair.</p> + +<p>"At last!" said Leo, from the bottom of his heart, as he made for the +journalist and grasped his hand. Wallion looked at him with a smile:</p> + +<p>"I hope you haven't quite crippled Rosenthal?" he inquired. "You two +knocked one another about splendidly; everybody crowded up to stare at +you; and I had only to walk straight in here. I hope soon to be able +to present Rosenthal to you, as a useful and trustworthy friend."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say," said Leo, amazed, "that Rosenthal faked the whole +affair in order that you might get into the Copper House unobserved?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we planned it between us on the spur of the moment. What else +was there for us to do? What did you think <i>you</i> were going to do, +single-handed?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, we meant to go and find you."</p> + +<p>"Me?" said Wallion, gravely. "Couldn't you have waited till I was +ready? Yes, I know, you had made a discovery, which we will talk about +in a minute."</p> + +<p>Leo introduced him to the two ladies; Sonia drew back a little after +the first greetings, as though to take stock unobtrusively of the +tall journalist, whose decided manner and piercing glance evidently +impressed her. Lona Ivanovna shook hands heartily with him, and they +seemed to understand one another at once: from that time on, they were +on terms of the warmest esteem.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will forgive me for keeping in the background until now," +said Wallion; "there are plenty of sharp eyes round the Copper House, +and I don't want Rastakov to take alarm too soon. But there need be no +secrets between us henceforward."</p> + +<p>He bent down over Andrei Bernin's chair, and took the invalid's hand in +his like a doctor.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Andrei Bernin," he continued, "your name has interested me +immensely since this morning; you need not be afraid of me: don't turn +away from me, for I am a friend."</p> + +<p>The journalist's keen eyes were very close now to the blue spectacles:</p> + +<p>"It is strange that no one but myself has noticed it!"</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" murmured the blind man, uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Of the fact that out of the letters forming the name Andrei Bernin, +one can just as easily make the name of Bernard Jenin."</p> + +<p>He patted the invalid's hand, and stood up.</p> + +<p>"You need not disguise yourself from me, Mr. Bernard Jenin," he added +in a low tone; "or may I say Sergius?"</p> + +<p>The man in the armchair swept off the blue spectacles, and looked up +into Wallion's face:</p> + +<p>"Say Sergius!" he replied as quietly.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>The story of the Bernin family</i></h3> + + +<p>The strange scene passed so rapidly, that the fact it conveyed had been +accepted by the three spectators before any of them thought of making a +move.</p> + +<p>"Why, the blind man can see!" was Leo's first thought; and before his +still incredulous eyes, the man in the armchair proceeded to divest +himself of his venerable white beard and his poetical white locks, +revealing a face twenty years younger, in which Leo recognized with +something of a shock, the fugitive of the railway carriage and the +avenue, the melancholy young man whose lined face was worn with recent +illness. The blind Bernin was merely a fiction: under that disguise the +hunted Bernard Jenin had been hidden the whole time. The truth dawned +upon Leo as though a blind had been suddenly pulled up.</p> + +<p>"Don't take off your wig," said Wallion, "and you had better put on the +blue spectacles again. Your disguise is perfectly wonderful: I can't +understand how you came to have it at hand yesterday evening?"</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna took up the tale.</p> + +<p>"We had better be quite open with our sharp-sighted guest, Sergius. +How long has it taken you to see through our poor little stratagem, Mr. +Wallion?"</p> + +<p>"I suspected something of the kind before I got here," explained +Wallion, "otherwise the disappearance of the fugitive would have been +nothing short of miraculous. And then the name helped me: how could you +be so daring as to call yourself Bernard Jenin, which is neither more +nor less than an anagram on Andrei Bernin?"</p> + +<p>"That was in case I came to grief," answered the fugitive; "if my +mother saw that name in the papers, she would know that it referred to +me. Years ago, sitting round the table after the lamp was lighted, we +used to amuse ourselves making anagrams on our names. For instance, +Sonia Bernin became Nina Biornsen; I chose my uncle's name, because he +is dead."</p> + +<p>"Dead! Is Andrei Bernin dead?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he died at Moscow on the fourteenth of November, 1916."</p> + +<p>Maurice Wallion looked inquiringly at Lona Ivanovna, and she replied to +his unspoken question.</p> + +<p>"My brother left the Copper House in January, 1916, for a reason which +I will tell you by and by. For the same reason, Sonia and I allowed our +friends to believe that he was still here, but too ill to see anyone. +No one suspected the truth; I made for myself the disguise which +Sergius is wearing now, and on two occasions I purposely allowed Baron +Fayerling's spies to get a glimpse of the sick man, who was believed +to be, but really was not, here."</p> + +<p>It did not occur to Wallion to smile at the grotesque idea of the old +lady in a false beard and man's clothes: on the contrary, he found +something touching and pathetic in what she had done; he understood +that she had been driven to it by the direst necessity.</p> + +<p>"It was a hard blow for us when my brother died," she continued. "He +died secretly in the country which had rejected him. My son has carried +on his work, and now it is finished: but it has nearly cost him his +life...."</p> + +<p>She spoke slowly and composedly, and with a calm dignity which made +Wallion feel that he was standing on holy ground; he fixed his gray +eyes on her with a look of warm admiration.</p> + +<p>"Then," he asked, "is your son—here?"</p> + +<p>"Sergius is my son," she replied.</p> + +<p>Wallion nodded; the discovery did not surprise him, since it had +been one of his theories in the course of his attempts to arrive at +the truth during the last few hours. He understood too, from Leo's +expression, that this was the information which the young man had been +so anxious to convey to him. But he was silent, for he could see that +Lona Ivanovna had more to say. Presently she began again:</p> + +<p>"I know you are our friend, Mr. Wallion; we can never forget how you +saved Sergius yesterday, and to-day we have waited and hoped for you +hour after hour. You must think it very strange that we should be in +the Copper House, apparently at the beck and call of such creatures as +Baron Fayerling and his companions; but you may find the explanation +even more surprising. If you really are willing to help us, I will be +perfectly frank with you, and tell you the whole story."</p> + +<p>She spoke with a perceptible effort to keep to the point and to repress +any display of emotion, which she would have considered a sign of +weakness, but in spite of the quiet words, it was apparent that she was +deeply moved. Sergius leaned forward and stroked her hand, and Wallion +got up, shut the door into the hall, and said:</p> + +<p>"Miss Sonia, as you are nearest, will you kindly look out, and tell me +if you see anyone outside the window; I think it wisest not to show my +face yet."</p> + +<p>The girl complied; there was nobody outside: everything was quiet. Even +the great barrier of dark thunder-clouds seemed motionless. Wallion +looked round him once more with those keen eyes of his that nothing +escaped; he missed something, and it struck him that the Austrian's +calm, intelligent face would just have made their circle complete. But +for the present, that was impossible.</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna had seated herself beside her son, and waited for the +journalist to follow her example. He understood her look, and readily +obeyed it, saying with a smile:</p> + +<p>"I am sure that between us we shall find a way out of all our +difficulties: at any rate, I promise to do my best. I shall be +delighted to hear your story, to begin with."</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna took up her work-basket, which had been hanging neglected +on her arm, remarking:</p> + +<p>"I can think better when I am working," and as her crochet-needle +flashed in and out of the stitches, she began her tale.</p> + +<p>"Our father was a magistrate at Saratov. It was his wish that my +brother should obtain a commission in the army, but as both our +parents died early, we were left, whilst still quite young, to fend +for ourselves. We had a little money, but not much, because my father, +who had been sufficiently original not to make a fortune by means of +bribery and corruption, had left nothing but debts behind him.</p> + +<p>"We became students at Moscow, and you would scarcely believe how +cleverly we and our companions managed to live upon nothing! It was +a long time ago, in the days of Russia's slavery, and we youngsters +hated the oppressors. You know what a struggle we made; and in the free +countries around us the comfortable middle-classes sat still and called +us anarchists! We were revolutionaries, and I, Lona Ivanovna, have +risked my own life in active propaganda-work. My brother was weaker, +and he served the cause with his pen, whilst I did so with words and +deeds. We formed a little group of devoted enthusiasts, and there was +one man who constituted himself a leader among us, constantly urging +us on to fresh exertions. He became my husband, and Sergius is our son. +The name of that man was Marcus Tassler."</p> + +<p>"Marcus Tassler!" exclaimed Leo involuntarily, and with intense +astonishment. Lona Ivanovna looked at him steadily, and he dropped his +eyes and added confusedly:</p> + +<p>"Forgive my interruption, but somehow that man's name surprised me more +than anything else."</p> + +<p>Wallion moved impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Please go on," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I married Marcus Tassler," she went on calmly. "He was at that +time a Russian subject, and we were just of an age. Perhaps he was not +so worthless then: I don't know; we change with time. Several years +passed; not all 'red,' but very often 'black' ones. I was imprisoned +for the cause of liberty in Peter-Paul fortress. Then came 1905, that +year of bloodshed and of barricades, with days of ardent enthusiasm, +and of bitter disappointment; when the soldiers mutinied at Sevastopol, +Poland was declared to be in a state of siege, and barricades were +set up in the streets of Moscow. Can you imagine the horrors we went +through? Spies and traitors were to be found, even amongst us.... +One night our house was surrounded by Cossacks. My brother was +there, Marcus Tassler, myself, and Sergius, who was then a boy of +fourteen...."</p> + +<p>"Fourteen!" echoed her son, "and I remember it all vividly: the wild +faces, the whips cracking, the shooting—I remember it all."</p> + +<p>"We were driven to prison like animals to the slaughter," she +continued, "and we expected nothing else but death, for we were guilty +of taking part in the December risings in Moscow. Then the examinations +began: we were called in one by one. A fortnight later, a miracle +happened! We were set at liberty, with no verdict, no conditions, +no supervision. We returned to our comrades, and a terrible and +inconceivable experience awaited us: they cast us out, accusing us of +having purchased our freedom by treachery. We denied it indignantly. +They reckoned up the names of all who had been shot, all who had +been sent to Siberia—we were the only ones who had been set free. +It was useless to protest, to ask for explanations, we were caught +in a net, and they shrank from us as though we were pariahs.... We +were even subjected to attacks from bombs, and it was due to one of +these that Andrei lost his sight. That ended it. We were obliged to +leave Russia, to escape from the vengeance of our former comrades. +For private reasons, into which I need not enter now, I obtained a +legal separation from Marcus Tassler;—perhaps I unconsciously saw +through him already—Sergius remained with me, and as exiles we sought +sanctuary in Sweden. I haven't mentioned my brother's marriage; during +a visit to Sweden in 1898, he had met and married Helena Flycht, a +young half-Finnish, half-Swedish girl, who followed him to Russia. +She died when Sonia was born, and the child was brought up by her +mother's parents in Finland. Well, when Andrei, Sergius and I settled +in Sweden, my brother sent for Sonia, and we were quite a little family +party again. But the circle was soon broken. As Sergius grew up, the +'liberty-fever' developed in him, and he returned to Russia under an +assumed name to take part in the work; for several years we heard no +more of him."</p> + +<p>"For a very good reason," interposed Sergius: "I was in prison the +greater part of the time!"</p> + +<p>"Then the World War began," Lona Ivanovna went on: "my brother made one +attempt to offer his services to the revolutionaries. They answered us: +'Unless you can prove that you did not betray us in 1905, we will have +nothing to do with you: we have forgotten nothing!' Prove it! How could +we hope to do so now, if we had not succeeded at the time? We felt that +we were excommunicated forever. Then Tassler reappeared. I had not +heard a word of him for nine years, but now, in the spring of 1915, he +came back. He undertook to prove our innocence of the accusation of +treachery, upon one condition, that we in our turn, should help him. +Bit by bit, he told us of a man called Gabriel Ortiz, who was planning +a gigantic attempt to organize the Russian efforts for freedom. It +sounded genuine, we should, at all events, be once more working for +the cause of liberty, and that decided us. In the summer of 1915, we +settled down here at the Copper House ... Andrei, Sonia and I."</p> + +<p>"Did Marcus Tassler really initiate you into Ortiz' plan?" asked +Wallion, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, into part of it, at any rate: that is to say, Baron Fayerling +did. Part of the business was carried on here: smuggling arms, +dispatching propagandist literature, and so forth. But we soon noticed +that our part in it was a very small one; we were simply used as +decoys, and all they wanted was Andrei's name on the contract and on +their papers. Just at first we were satisfied, but we soon began to +feel suspicious: it was too late for us to withdraw, and we found that +we were practically prisoners here. We had no means of discovering what +was really going on, but we had no intention of allowing ourselves to +be involved in some fresh deed of treachery. It was then that we began +to realize that Marcus Tassler was a dangerous character. We decided +to obtain our own proofs, and we planned everything with the greatest +precaution. In the spring of 1916, Andrei left the Copper House +secretly, and traveled to Russia with a passport which I had managed to +procure, and together with two revolutionaries who had still continued +our friends. Meantime, Sonia and I gave out that my brother was lying +ill in the Copper House, and no one suspected that he was far away! +Besides, the baron and Tassler left us more and more to ourselves; it +was enough for their purposes to have us here as figureheads. You can +understand how anxious I was, when you think that Andrei was blind, +and what a journey he had undertaken, and for what an object. I had a +presentiment—but perhaps you don't believe in presentiments?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Wallion, "I certainly believe in them; a presentiment +is often a subconscious conclusion, and may have a definite value."</p> + +<p>"In January of this year, I received indirect information that my +brother was dead. He had died quite suddenly of heart disease, unknown +and alone in an infirmary at Moscow. Those were sad days for Sonia and +me."</p> + +<p>She stopped, for her voice was quivering suspiciously, and sat gazing +before her, with her grimmest and most unapproachable expression; but +Sonia understood, and nestled up more closely to her.</p> + +<p>"The night is darkest before the dawn," began the old lady again. +"Sergius sent us a letter, bidding us be of good courage; he had +arrived too late to see his uncle alive, but had taken possession +of his papers, and seen to the funeral. He wrote that he had made +important discoveries...."</p> + +<p>"Let me go on from there," said Sergius, turning towards the +journalist. "I was staying in Moscow under the name of Dr. Zero. +The March Revolution had changed everything, and my revolutionary +friends were triumphant. I suspected that their rejoicings were rather +premature, for I saw beneath the surface very definite symptoms of +reactionary currents; I found proofs of the existence of a conspiracy, +and Prince Tarraschin's death set me wondering.... Finally, after a +series of researches, I heard of Tarraschin's memorandum, its contents, +and the struggle that was being secretly carried on for its possession; +in the long run, I also discovered its whereabouts: then I acted." He +thought for a little while.</p> + +<p>"You must remember that my motive all along has been the vindication of +my own and my family's honor, also that I knew nothing of Ortiz, or of +what was going on here; and lastly, that I dared not approach the new +Russian government under my own name, as Kerensky had been one of those +who had driven out Andrei and his belongings, branded as traitors. All +this you must bear in mind.</p> + +<p>"Well, I took Tarraschin's memorandum, not from its rightful owners, +but from thieves. Of course, I know now, that it was from one of +Ortiz's spies that I took it. But what was I to do with it? I had found +my relatives' new address amongst my uncle's papers, and I determined +to travel home and ask my mother's advice. On the way back, I fell in +with B.22 and was very nearly caught in a trap...."</p> + +<p>"I suppose your plan was to come here, and by the aid of the document, +open negotiaions with Kerensky?" asked Wallion.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was the only way I could think of to regain the esteem of the +revolutionaries."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't it look a little bit like—bribery?"</p> + +<p>Sergius Tassler was silent, and the journalist changed his tactics.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, of course you were justified in taking such a step. We know +what happened afterwards, so...."</p> + +<p>"Let me say one thing," said Sergius. "It is not fair to call it a +bribe. I am prepared to surrender the paper unconditionally, but, by +giving it up at the right moment, I want to add weight to the proofs +I obtained in Moscow; I allude to the proofs of our innocence of the +accusation brought against us in 1905."</p> + +<p>"Really! You found them, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, after the Revolution the police-archives became at last +accessible, and there I found the name of the traitor; then everything +became clear to me: my own father had played the part of Judas!"</p> + +<p>"Marcus Tassler?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was an infamous spy, and only allowed himself to be arrested +for the sake of appearances, to escape any reprisals. He was, I +suppose, driven by his uneasy conscience to bring about our liberation. +But through him, hundreds of brave young students had gone to their +death, or to Siberia; and that was my father ... mine...."</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna checked him....</p> + +<p>"That's enough, my boy, don't let us talk of the man any more. You can +understand now, Mr. Wallion, how, after Sergius' return yesterday, +Tassler's double-dealing became perfectly clear to me. In 1905 he had +made us accomplices in an act of treachery: what was his intention +now? Why were we in the Copper House? It was evidently not enough +for him that he had us outlawed twelve years ago; once again he must +drag us down to destruction! Ever since the March Revolution, this +year, I guessed that something was wrong, for Ortiz' activities did +not diminish, although Russia was now freed. It was, therefore, not +revolution, but something else that he was working for. The history of +Tarraschin's memorandum revealed the truth in a flash. From the moment +that Sergius told me about it, I became the enemy of Ortiz, and above +all, of Tassler who had dared to lie to me."</p> + +<p>"Tell me," said the journalist, "what exactly happened yesterday when +your son arrived?"</p> + +<p>"It all passed like a hurried dream. Suddenly, without any warning, he +was here, with Rastakov at his heels. I had barely a second to decide +what to do, and I did it. I sent him up with Sonia to Andrei's room, to +disguise himself as my brother, whom Rastakov was quite prepared to see +in the course of his investigations; I remained in the hall, and when I +heard Rastakov coming, I fired a shot, to mystify him, and gain time: a +shot always entails explanation and discussion, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"So that's the true story of Bernard Jenin's disappearance?" said +Wallion, amused.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Bernard Jenin will never be found now!"</p> + +<p>Wallion got up, walked up and down for a minute, and stopped before +Sergius, sitting quiet and aloof, in his apparent blindness.</p> + +<p>"And what about Tarraschin's memorandum?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is hidden in a place where Rastakov would never dream of looking +for it," answered Sergius; "in fact, it is actually in my hand at the +present moment: look here, I will show it you."</p> + +<p>All eyes were turned, as by common consent, on Sergius' right hand, in +which he was holding his stick. With a quick wrench, he unscrewed the +ivory handle, and they saw that the stick was hollow; without looking +into it, he handed it to the journalist.</p> + +<p>"Will you be so kind?" said he; "the most important document in Europe +will be found inside, rolled up like a cigarette! Don't stand on +ceremony, please."</p> + +<p>The journalist stretched out his hand, then drew it suddenly back; a +curious expression came into his eyes, and he thrust his hands into his +pockets.</p> + +<p>"You are joking, surely, sir!"</p> + +<p>"I? Certainly not. What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing in the stick!"</p> + +<p>Sergius Tassler grew pale, and stared, as though petrified, into the +hollow tube. Lona Ivanovna bent forward, and as the stick fell with a +thud on the floor, she said:</p> + +<p>"Are you perfectly sure you put the paper in there yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied with a stupefied air; "I can't understand.... Sonia +saw it...."</p> + +<p>The young girl sprang forward like a little fury:</p> + +<p>"I saw you put the paper in the stick! Nobody else saw it, nobody knows +about it. Where is the document?" Her tone was almost an accusation, +but Sergius made no reply. His mother continued her work with +undisturbed equanimity, only remarking:</p> + +<p>"You see, Mr. Wallion, that Tarraschin's memorandum is still capable of +providing us with a sensation."</p> + +<p>"So it seems. I am sorry, for I should have liked to have your only +weapon in my hands."</p> + +<p>"Our only weapon!" she echoed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, without it, one doesn't know what may happen."</p> + +<p>"Could Rastakov have taken it?" suggested Leo.</p> + +<p>"Impossible," returned Sergius. "He hasn't even set eyes upon +the stick, and the baron said openly that their search had been +unsuccessful; it is a complete mystery to me...."</p> + +<p>"Did you keep watch last night?" asked Wallion.</p> + +<p>"Yes, all night, in turns."</p> + +<p>"And you noticed nothing unusual?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing whatsoever."</p> + +<p>"Had you disturbed the contents of the stick since yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"No, and I have never let it out of my sight."</p> + +<p>The journalist examined it cursorily, screwed on the handle, and +restored it to its owner.</p> + +<p>"Well, there you are!" said he. "You may console yourself with the +reflection that Ortiz would certainly never have suspected the +existence of such a highly-original hiding-place."</p> + +<p>"Console myself? Do you attach so little importance to the +disappearance of the paper?" exclaimed the mortified and astonished +Sergius.</p> + +<p>"No, not that, but I have an idea that it has not gone beyond recall. +The person who took it...."</p> + +<p>"But who can it be? Who?"</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen. May I be allowed to examine Andrei Bernin's +bedroom with you?"</p> + +<p>"Most willingly."</p> + +<p>Sergius and Lona Ivanovna followed him upstairs, but they all three +returned very soon. Leo and Sonia, who were left sitting silent and +downcast, saw an expression in the journalist's face which they could +not quite fathom; it seemed almost as though he was quietly pleased +about something which nobody else had observed.</p> + +<p>"Have you found out anything?" Leo asked, in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Wallion, abstractedly; "nothing that I didn't already +know."</p> + +<p>After a minute he left the room.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>An oppressive silence lay heavy and stifling over the Copper House. +Premature darkness had set in; the massive thunder clouds seemed to +settle slowly down upon the woods and the lonely house, till they shut +out the last rays of fading daylight.</p> + +<p>Leo found the journalist at a window on the second floor, gazing out to +sea. His whole bearing was tense with expectation, and his gray eyes +dark and fixed. Leo wondered what he saw there, and placed himself +silently beside him. From this place they had an uninterrupted view of +the little bay, which lay gleaming inside its sheltering island.</p> + +<p>Two men were busy with something spread out on the deck of the lighter; +it appeared to be part of some apparatus; Wallion watched them intently.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" whispered Leo.</p> + +<p>His friend did not reply.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a cone of bluish light darted up into the dusk as a result of +the exertions of the two distant figures, and continued to burn with +a steady and far-reaching beam. The ray of light shifted hither and +thither, till it remained stationary between the islands and the right +shore of the bay, pointing towards the open sea.</p> + +<p>"The light!" murmured Wallion. "Ortiz is at hand!"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Part_III-Gabriel_Ortiz"><i>Part III—Gabriel Ortiz</i></h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>The storm bursts</i></h3> + + +<p>A gust of wind went soughing through the trees, which bowed their +crests before it in long, rippling lines. On the dark horizon, +lightning flashed in and out of the dense bank of clouds, and the +windows rattled as the peals of thunder sounded nearer and more +frequent.</p> + +<p>Then, from some way off, a short, sharp cry was heard through the +rising storm. Men's steps came crashing through the bushes, and +suddenly two shots rang out. Inside the Copper House, all sprang +to their feet, and looked apprehensively at one another, with the +conviction that the critical moment had arrived.</p> + +<p>Wallion ran noiselessly downstairs, with Leo after him, and saw Lona +Ivanovna crossing the hall, a revolver in her hand. Sonia had rushed to +the glass door, and was gazing out into the twilight: Sergius Tassler +stood in the entrance to the dining-room, with one hand in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Someone is climbing over the balustrade of the terrace," said the girl +suddenly, "and he has a revolver!"</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" inquired Lona Ivanovna.</p> + +<p>"I can't see yet—it's a man. Now he's turning round again."</p> + +<p>Another revolver-shot cracked, and was answered by the report of a gun +further off. The revolver was fired once more, four shots in quick +succession; hasty steps sounded on the gravel, and the girl started +back from the door, as a shadow appeared just outside it, groping for +the handle.</p> + +<p>Wallion threw the door open, and a man ran right into his arms. It was +Rosenthal, hatless, and with his coat torn.</p> + +<p>"They discovered me," he panted, "shut the door, they are coming!"</p> + +<p>Wallion did so, and returned to him, saying:</p> + +<p>"What have you done?"</p> + +<p>The Austrian began to reload his Browning.</p> + +<p>"I went down to the lodge to telephone," said he.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I got through to the <i>Daily Courier</i>, but Robert Lang was not there."</p> + +<p>"Then, of course, you haven't spoken to him."</p> + +<p>"No, I had no luck," said the Austrian stolidly; "and the worst of it +was, that while I was standing at the telephone, the baron and Marcus +Tassler returned from the station in a motor-car, and caught me. +Fayerling spotted me at once, and raised the alarm. I tried to hold my +ground, but was obliged to give in at last. Unfortunately, this puts an +end to anything I could do as Rosenthal the gardener, so from now on, I +become instead Max Raebel, the Austrian government detective, at your +service, ladies and gentlemen."</p> + +<p>He bowed to the assembled company.</p> + +<p>A step of an entirely different kind was now heard on the gravel: +light, firm, almost arrogant in its character.</p> + +<p>It was Baron Fayerling, who tried the handle and shook the glass door. +He was alone, and at a sign from the journalist, Lona Ivanovna went +forward and opened the door.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" she demanded, looking him fearlessly in the face.</p> + +<p>"I am not looking for you," replied the baron hastily: "I want that +spy...."</p> + +<p>"Would you not rather talk to me?" suggested Wallion, pushing Max +Raebel on one side, and stepping forward.</p> + +<p>The two men looked at one another. The baron raised his eyebrows, but +his impassive face betrayed no other sign of surprise, though Wallion +observed with considerable satisfaction, that he hesitated a little +over his reply.</p> + +<p>"So you are tired of playing hide and seek?" he said at length. "I'm +afraid you must have found it very uncomfortable."</p> + +<p>"Not in the least, baron, but I was beginning to fear that you had +forgotten me."</p> + +<p>The baron looked round, as though he meditated raising an alarm, and +Wallion added quickly:</p> + +<p>"Won't you come in? Perhaps you have something to say to me?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet. I suspected that you were here, when you were found to +have been out of Stockholm for a whole day. Our business will keep. I +presume that you have realized your mistake by this time?"</p> + +<p>"In coming here, you mean? On the contrary, I made a great mistake in +not coming sooner; it would have spared both you and myself a lot of +trouble."</p> + +<p>The baron looked narrowly at him.</p> + +<p>"You should not have ventured here without a strong force!" he remarked.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks, I prefer fair play."</p> + +<p>"You don't lack self-confidence; I could tell that yesterday, from your +letter, which I have kept."</p> + +<p>"Ah, as a keepsake, no doubt!"</p> + +<p>"No, to hand it over to my superior officer!" and the baron turned +away, and left the room.</p> + +<p>"What have you gained by that?" whispered Leo; "the fellow was white +with rage."</p> + +<p>"Did you notice that he absolutely ignored Max Raebel?" answered the +journalist; "I think we shall still be left in peace for a bit."</p> + +<p>"Not for long, though," Lona Ivanovna put in, pointing towards one of +the windows that faced seawards, from which they saw the reflection of +the blue light over the tops of the trees.</p> + +<p>"It's coming at last, is it?" murmured Wallion, and he went upstairs +three steps at a time, followed by Leo who guessed that he was +returning to his post of observation. When they reached the window +overlooking the shore, they saw that almost total darkness had set in. +Long shadows, and floods of bluish-white light drifted alternately +across the mirror-like surface of the bay, and only the dim outline of +the lighter could be distinguished.</p> + +<p>"Now you are going to see something which will surprise you," said a +voice behind Leo: it was that of the Austrian, who had followed them +upstairs.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Wallion chimed in, almost gaily, "if I am not mistaken, we may +look for Gabriel Ortiz at any minute now!"</p> + +<p>The journalist was worked up to a high pitch of excitement; he was +evidently in his element at the near prospect of a good tussle: a faint +flush mounted to his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled: he was smoking +continuously.</p> + +<p>Leo's eyes were fixed on the channel between the islands and the +shore, and there he saw something which made him suddenly grip the +window-ledge. In the center of the flood of light, something seemed to +be moving on the surface of the water: a spar had shot right up out +of the sea, and was approaching the lighter at an astounding rate. It +seemed to increase in height as it came nearer, and presently, out of +the foaming water there appeared a turret, and a convex shining mass, +like the back of a whale.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" he exclaimed; "why—but that's impossible!" The beam +of light followed the extraordinary object, which was now slackening +speed very noticeably: a hatchway was seen to open, and men's figures +began to emerge from the turret, which was still streaming wet from its +immersion.</p> + +<p>"It's too absurd!" cried Leo, staring harder than ever; "a submarine! I +don't understand...."</p> + +<p>"Why, what an unbelieving fellow you are!" growled the Austrian. "Can't +you see for yourself...."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but ... when you come to think of it ... a submarine!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's evident that nothing less will do for Gabriel Ortiz. Of +course, that's his flagship. Surely you didn't expect him to come in a +rowing-boat!"</p> + +<p>Wallion smiled.</p> + +<p>"Did you know it?" demanded Leo quickly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the journalist. "I guessed as much, when I saw how +the side of the lighter was damaged. The Russian submarine fleet has +practically gone the way of all flesh: half of it blown up, and the +remainder surrendered. Why shouldn't one or two of them have been +simply stolen? You can't deny that Ortiz is a man who knows how to +make the most of his opportunities. It is really a brilliant idea! He +always ran a certain amount of risk with the motor-launch 'Nelly,' but +with this one, he is never obliged to 'lie-to' and answer inconvenient +questions from the coastguards. There they go, bang against the +lighter!"</p> + +<p>The three spectators now heard a subdued creaking, and the flare +on board the lighter was extinguished. A sharp order was given, and +in a few minutes, a less powerful light appeared, and began to move +backwards and forwards. The respective silhouettes of the lighter and +the submarine were merged into one; a little yawl approached the ruined +pier, and several lanterns began to twinkle like glowworms. They were +arranged in a row on the beach, and by their light a party of six or +eight men could be seen, starting up the path that led to the Copper +House. At the same time, voices, amongst which they recognized the +baron's, were heard in excited conversation beneath the window: the +arrival of the submarine had been discovered.</p> + +<p>At the head of the little band, walked a solitary undersized figure, in +a flapping waterproof: it was obvious who this must be.</p> + +<p>"That's the man!" said the Austrian, in a low voice: "that's Ortiz!"</p> + +<p>As if the powers of the air had been waiting for this announcement, +the storm now burst upon them in earnest. An unusually dazzling glare +of violet lightning spread a network of phosphorescent light over the +whole extent of the blue-black sky, and as it faded out, a peal of +thunder crashed over the house like an avalanche, till the walls seemed +to shake, and the floors to rock. The rain fell in torrents, pouring +down in one continuous cascade; when the echo of the thunder at length +died away, the noise of the rain took its place, and the drops pattered +against the panes and the roof like machine-gun fire after the heavy +artillery has ceased.</p> + +<p>But nothing stopped the progress of the little band. The three men who +were watching them could see through the veil of rain the solitary +figure marching along at their head, the cape of his waterproof +fluttering like black wings about his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Wallion, "our ally is rather late in arriving, but has +come at all events. Come along...."</p> + +<p>"Our ally?" echoed Raebel.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the storm. It deprives them of sight and hearing for the time +being. Let's go downstairs."</p> + +<p>They went down again, and joined the three Bernins, who were silently +awaiting them in the dark dining-room.</p> + +<p>"Now for it!" said the journalist, gathering them all round him. +"Quick's the word, and sharp the action! Sergius Tassler, whatever +happens, you must continue to play the part of Andrei Bernin as long +as it can be kept up—and you, Lona Ivanovna, must stand by him. +Above all, we must do nothing rashly: our chief aim is to gain time. +I propose to remain here and meet the first brunt of Ortiz' attack: +I think I shall be able to give him plenty to think about! But you, +gentlemen," turning to Leo and Raebel, "you must make a last attempt to +run the blockade: one or other of you will, in all probability be able +to get through. Do anything you like, steal the baron's car, or fight +your way to the station, but get word to Robert Lang of the arrival of +the submarine, and instruct him to take immediate steps to capture the +whole gang."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," answered Leo eagerly, "we ought to have thought of that +long ago!"</p> + +<p>"Thought! I have thought of little else!" said Wallion impatiently. +"But can't you see, that the rain and the darkness have given us our +chance?"</p> + +<p>"That's clear," interposed the Austrian, "so don't let's waste time in +talking."</p> + +<p>He went to a window, and opened it without a sound; the darkness +outside rose up like a wall in front of him. As Leo was following him, +he felt a hand on his arm: it was Sonia.</p> + +<p>"Let me come too!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Wallion, who overheard her, was on the point of refusing, but Lona +Ivanovna said:</p> + +<p>"Let the child go, she can look after herself better than any boy!"</p> + +<p>The journalist, moved by the pleading in the girl's eyes, gave in to +the old lady, and offered no opposition, the more so, as every minute's +delay was dangerous. Sonia had changed into her black riding costume, +probably in the expectation of some such contingency, and was already +at the window; to Leo's whispered attempt to dissuade her, she only +replied with a shake of the head.</p> + +<p>"Be off, then, at once, all three of you," said Wallion briskly; "don't +stop, whatever happens; if one of you gets through, lose no time in +getting in touch with the nearest authorities; knock people up, +telephone to Stockholm, do everything you can...."</p> + +<p>He continued to whisper his instructions to them, whilst he was helping +them to get through the window. They were eager to start off, and carry +out their orders, and the storm seemed to swallow them up in a moment. +It was like being thrown into the sea. The rain lashed their faces, and +the wind tore at their clothes, but the three adventurers summoned up +all their courage, bent their heads, and began to cross the terrace.</p> + +<p>Darkness had obliterated the big house behind them, they could not hear +their own footsteps, and groped their way onwards, afraid of losing one +another. Sheets of rain enveloped them: it was impossible to see or +hear the sentries, who must certainly be near them; but this they had +to risk.</p> + +<p>"This way," said Leo, just above his breath.</p> + +<p>They were brought up short by the stone balustrade, over which they +scrambled, jumping down on to the grass. At that instant, the sky was +lit up by a flash, broad and blue as a stream of molten silver. For +one second, they, the trees and the bushes, stood out distinctly, then +the darkness wrapped them round again, and they were deafened by the +succeeding peal of thunder. Leo seized Sonia's hand, and dragged her +along with him: an alarming sight had met their eyes; crouching under +the shelter of the trees were a number of sentries, their hoods pulled +up over their heads, and their guns under their waterproof capes. The +fugitives had been seen. A shrill whistle was audible through the +dying reverberations of the thunder, and lanterns appeared at various +points. The darkness protected them for a moment, but they dreaded the +next flash. The lights seemed to move more rapidly, and voices called +out questions and answers. Leo and the girl ran on wildly through the +wet grass; suddenly a rough voice shouted something quite close to +them, and a lantern was flashed into their faces. Before the young man +knew what was happening, he found himself engaged in a hand-to-hand +combat; his left hand grasped a rifle-barrel, his right, a wet and +twisted collar. A shot rang out, and a red flame seemed to flash just +below his elbow: using his knee as a lever, he bent the gun across +it, wrenched it free, and flung it away. His panting assailant, whose +breath reeked of bad tobacco, seized him by the shoulders and tried to +force him down, but Leo got the fellow round the waist, lifted him off +the ground, and they rolled over together. His clenched fist came in +contact with a chin, and he received several kicks from feet tramping +backwards and forwards. He sprang up, caught hold of someone, who swore +violently, and hurled him far in amongst the bushes, just as another +flash lighted up the landscape. The vivid glare showed him the Austrian +struggling with three men at once.</p> + +<p>"They've got me!" Raebel cried; "see to yourself!"</p> + +<p>Leo turned to find yet another adversary, gave him a stinging blow on +the ear, and dodged past him into the shelter of the trees. Somebody +made a grab at his foot, but he kicked it loose, and after a minute's +frantic rush through soaking wet branches and leaves, which slapped him +in the face, he found himself on level ground, drew a deep breath, and +realized that he was in the avenue. Had he actually broken through the +cordon of sentries? It seemed almost impossible, but without stopping +to puzzle it out, he sped on down the avenue. He fancied he could hear +light footsteps running a little ahead of him; it was Sonia, and he +called out softly to her. But what was this? She was running towards +him: was she turning back? They stopped opposite one another.</p> + +<p>"Why have you turned back?" he panted; "are they in front of us?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," she whispered eagerly; "it is you ... if you go in this +direction ... it's you that are making a mistake ... look, look!"</p> + +<p>Sure enough, Leo noticed to his dismay that in the darkness he had +taken a wrong turn. Through the trees in front of them, he now saw +the terrace steps, full of lights and men. The little party from the +boat were just marching up the path from the bay, and the short figure +in the waterproof was ascending the steps, at a brisk, steady pace. +Someone held a lantern in front to guide him, and by its light they saw +his pale, determined face, looking upwards and onwards, as though he +intended to allow nothing to turn him from his purpose.</p> + +<p>Then Leo and Sonia turned and fled, without looking behind them. +Gabriel Ortiz' face had terrified them by its indomitable strength, and +they realized that all was lost, unless they succeeded in obtaining +help. Stumbling along through the pools of water, they hurried on +faster and faster.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Gabriel Ortiz musters his forces and counts his prisoners</i></h3> + + +<p>Maurice Wallion remained at the window for some little time. The +lightning had shown him the terrace empty: would the three messengers +succeed in getting past the sentries? He was quivering all over with +excitement....</p> + +<p>Ah, what was that! That ominous whistle must mean that someone had seen +them. There was a flash through the darkness as a shot was fired; he +leaned out, and heard a confused noise among the trees, where lights +now began to dance like will o' the wisps.</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna, at his elbow, gave a little gasp.</p> + +<p>"That was a shot," she said; "what is wrong out there?" The lights +clustered together, then shifted rapidly from one spot to another.</p> + +<p>"Hark, that's the Austrian's voice: it sounds as though they had caught +him ... but the others! Sonia!" she whispered anxiously; "if only we +could see!"</p> + +<p>They held their breath, but now nothing could be heard except the swish +of the rain, and most of the lights had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"They've done it!" said Wallion. "I believe they have got through." He +closed the window, and went out into the hall.</p> + +<p>"Our part of the task remains to be done," he added; "look, there +comes the procession, but without its band and colors. This begins to +get exciting! I wonder in which character the great man will appear +to-night: emperor or millionaire?"</p> + +<p>He posted himself just inside the glass doors, and watched with calm +interest the spectacle outside. It was really, as he said, a regular +procession that was advancing, though at present, one could only +distinguish a line of shadowy forms, interspersed with flickering white +lights.</p> + +<p>Five of Rastakov's men ran first up the terrace steps, and took up +their position at some distance from one another; they were followed by +Rastakov himself, calling out a series of orders in Russian. A minute +later, the whole terrace was illuminated by the powerful glare of four +acetylene lights, carried by as many torch-bearers, who halted at the +top of the steps, and looked round them expectantly: other shadows were +visible behind them.</p> + +<p>The short, upright figure in the waterproof now marched up the +steps, with Baron Fayerling on his left: his every movement was firm +and unhesitating. The baron was speaking: he was evidently giving +his report, to which the Chief listened without stopping, without +answering, without looking at his companion. Close behind them came +six men, wearing the uniform of marines, and armed with cutlasses and +carbines.</p> + +<p>"Look at his bodyguard!" murmured the journalist; "the great man +doesn't trust himself entirely to his friends: one might almost +imagine...."</p> + +<p>He broke off. The torch-bearers had shifted their position a little, +and the bright light fell directly on Ortiz' face. From that moment, +Wallion no longer saw anything ridiculous about his antagonist; he was +obliged to admit (like everyone else who had been brought into contact +with this man), that the first glimpse of Ortiz' face made a remarkable +impression upon him; its look of intense concentration fascinated him; +the man's whole self seemed bent on the attainment of an all-embracing, +all-absorbing, and as yet unrealized ambition. His face was pale, but +expressive of unlimited strength of will; the mouth small, straight, +thin-lipped, and unsmiling; the eyes, which were deep set and +penetrating, seemed to look far beyond their immediate surroundings +into some boundless realm of fancy, bright with the promise of +power and sovereignty; and from their depths shone the unquenchable +conviction which is the hall-mark of the fanatic.</p> + +<p>"Do you see him?" whispered Lona Ivanovna.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the journalist; "I see that I have made a +miscalculation."</p> + +<p>"What did you expect?"</p> + +<p>Wallion did not answer. What exactly had he expected? A caricature +of Napoleon? A common adventurer, acting a ridiculous part? No, and +yet he had perhaps unconsciously hoped that Gabriel Ortiz should turn +out to be—just the "Emperor of the Amazons." But the antagonist +who at length presented himself, after months of suspense, was no +comic hero—he was a man! A man who, in deadly earnest, was bent on +fulfilling his dearest ambition in defiance of law and order—and +between him and his ambition stood only one obstacle—Maurice Wallion.</p> + +<p>"What a fight it will be," said the journalist aloud; "one of us must +go under!" He breathed hard, and clenched and unclenched his fists.</p> + +<p>"Now!" whispered Lona Ivanovna.</p> + +<p>The group on the terrace advanced again; Baron Fayerling had finished +talking, and stepped on one side. Gabriel Ortiz was walking towards the +house, his head bent, and his hands clasped behind him. Suddenly he +looked up, and said sharply:</p> + +<p>"Who are in the house?"</p> + +<p>The baron's reply was inaudible, but Wallion was sure that he only +mentioned three names, as he made a gesture towards the dark garden. +Ortiz nodded shortly. Lona Ivanovna remarked, from her place by +Wallion's side:</p> + +<p>"If only I had that baron's throat between my fingers!"</p> + +<p>He hushed her with a look, and drew her back from the door as she was +on the point of sallying forth.</p> + +<p>"You must keep as cool as ice!" he warned her; "you will want all your +wits, all your cunning now. Our aim is to gain time, not to indulge in +heroics; put away your revolver, it would only make matters worse."</p> + +<p>She replaced the weapon reluctantly in her workbag, and they withdrew +silently.</p> + +<p>At a signal from the baron, the lights were turned upon the entire +front of the house, shining right into the windows; slanting, +flickering shafts of light illuminated the hall, and just as Lona +Ivanovna and the journalist were leaving it, the locked doors yielded +to a violent push, showers of glass tinkled over the oak floor, and the +walls echoed to the steady tramp of men.</p> + +<p>"Lights on everywhere!" ordered the baron. "Put a man at every door; +you two stop here."</p> + +<p>Steps approached the dining-room: the curtain that screened it from the +hall, was pulled aside with a rattle, and Ortiz appeared in the doorway.</p> + +<p>He looked coolly and critically at the persons who awaited him; then +he came in, still accompanied by the baron. Two of the men in uniform +stood on guard by the door, and two others placed their lamps on the +mantelpiece, filling the room with a dazzling light, in which faces +appeared unnaturally pale, and shadows unnaturally dark. There was +silence for an instant: Ortiz, his hands still behind him, signed to +his adjutant to draw back a little, that he might speak. His deep, +piercing glance travelled from the white-haired form in the armchair to +Lona Ivanovna's upright figure, and finally rested upon Wallion. He +seemed to be looking down upon them from a great height, taking stock +of everything, and coördinating all details into one complete whole.</p> + +<p>But the journalist, who was growing impatient, could not deny himself +the satisfaction of the first word.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Gabriel Ortiz. I have long wished to meet you; dare I +hope that Baron Fayerling will introduce me?"</p> + +<p>Ortiz unfastened his dripping waterproof, and threw his hat on a chair.</p> + +<p>"It is not necessary, Maurice Wallion: I know you already."</p> + +<p>"And my—friends?" asked the journalist, emphasizing the word +"friends," and waving his hand towards Lona Ivanovna and the sick man. +"Do you...?"</p> + +<p>"I know them also."</p> + +<p>Ortiz' reply was short and sharp. His expression changed as he looked +at the journalist: it evinced more hostility but at the same time, more +interest than before, and he added:</p> + +<p>"Do you count them among your friends? That is risky; I am sorry that +you have come here, Maurice Wallion."</p> + +<p>"Would it not be more to the point if you explained by what right you +invade the Copper House in this brutal way?"</p> + +<p>"By the strongest right!"</p> + +<p>"You are on Swedish soil: let me remind you of its laws."</p> + +<p>"I have my own."</p> + +<p>"In other words, you are an outlaw."</p> + +<p>"From your point of view—not from mine."</p> + +<p>"Do you depend so much upon our being helpless?"</p> + +<p>"No, I depend only upon myself. I have not come here to make +terms: your point of view does not interest me. I have come to get +Tarraschin's memorandum."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that it exists?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for what else could you offer in exchange?"</p> + +<p>"In exchange for what?"</p> + +<p>"Your life."</p> + +<p>Ortiz uttered these two words in a perfectly ordinary tone, but his +deep-set eyes remained somber and remote; his inmost thoughts seemed +to have strayed into that far-off region where his future lay hidden. +Wallion realized that to this dark and dangerous being, one life +signified less than nothing, but he said quietly:</p> + +<p>"You are too hasty; threats are not a sign of strength."</p> + +<p>Ortiz turned away without answering him.</p> + +<p>"A table and a chair!" he commanded. The two men hastened to obey, and +placed what he asked for in the middle of the room; he seated himself, +and the baron took up his position close by.</p> + +<p>Wallion remained on the alert for any sounds from outside. By this +time, the three messengers ought to have solved their problem. No +sound issued from the darkness that surrounded the house; the rain +had abated, and there were longer intervals between the flashes of +lightning. Was it possible that all three had got safely away?</p> + +<p>"I miss three of your friends," said Ortiz suddenly; "where are they?"</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to see them?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"Then I regret that I can give you no information about them."</p> + +<p>Ortiz laid a paper on the table in front of him. It was covered with +names and dates; he ran his pen down the lines, making a mark against +three of them: finally he looked up.</p> + +<p>"Rosenthal, gardener. Bring the man in, Baron Fayerling."</p> + +<p>The baron went to the door, a scuffle was heard in the hall, and, +panting and dishevelled, a drenched figure was hustled up to the table: +it was the Austrian.</p> + +<p>"Look at me," said Ortiz coldly. "Are you Rosenthal?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the gardener hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"You were engaged on the recommendation of Madame Sumensov, on the 29th +of April?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You have made two attempts to betray us to-day; what have you to say +for yourself?"</p> + +<p>The Austrian was silent.</p> + +<p>"Have you nothing to say?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Can you deny that you are an Austrian detective named Max Raebel?" +said Ortiz.</p> + +<p>The Austrian laughed bitterly:</p> + +<p>"No, I am glad you know it," he replied. "It doesn't matter now; I have +done with you and your associates in Russia; you may do your worst...."</p> + +<p>Ortiz seemed to ignore this remark; he made a sign to the baron, +pointed to the paper, and said a few words in an undertone. The baron +shrugged his shoulders:</p> + +<p>"That's impossible!" he replied with a contemptuous glance at the +Austrian. Ortiz got up, went across to the detective, and looked him +straight in the face.</p> + +<p>"You have been here two months," said he, reflectively; "have you made +any notes?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think so little of me as to ask me that?" retorted Raebel. "I +never take notes, but I have a good memory...."</p> + +<p>"What is your memory worth?"</p> + +<p>Raebel did not reply.</p> + +<p>"A million, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"No. Do you wish me to name my terms?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Give me Tarraschin's memorandum, surrender yourself to the +authorities, and distribute your millions among the poor, and I may +consider the matter!"</p> + +<p>Ortiz turned his back upon him, returned to the table, and said, +without raising his voice:</p> + +<p>"See that this fellow is taken on board, when we leave here."</p> + +<p>"Would it not be better to do it at once?" suggested the baron.</p> + +<p>"No, I might require him again. Isn't Rastakov ready yet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's just coming."</p> + +<p>Rastakov entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Well!" Ortiz greeted him.</p> + +<p>"I have searched Rosenthal's room," replied Rastakov; "he has made no +notes, and I have found nothing."</p> + +<p>"Good!"</p> + +<p>Ortiz sat silent for a little time. It did not escape Wallion that the +baron and Rastakov exchanged a rapid glance full of uneasiness; he +could guess the reason.</p> + +<p>Ortiz looked at his watch.</p> + +<p>"Rastakov—have you left any of your men in Stockholm?"</p> + +<p>"No, they are all here."</p> + +<p>"Nobody missing?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Is everything aboard the lighter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said the Chief once again. "Bring in Leonard Grath and Sonia +Bernin immediately; I don't wish to wait any longer."</p> + +<p>The baron bit his lips and looked nervously at Rastakov. For several +seconds a dead silence reigned in the room, at the end of which +Rastakov went out, making an ambiguous sign to Fayerling.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Ortiz, raising his voice, and looking round him. "Where is +Rastakov gone? What does this mean? Am I not to be obeyed?"</p> + +<p>Max Raebel had drawn close to Wallion, and said rapidly in a barely +audible voice:</p> + +<p>"They caught me almost directly, but I played my part for all it was +worth, I can tell you! Three of them seized me at once and dragged me +down, but I believe the youngsters got away safely."</p> + +<p>Ortiz fixed his dark eyes upon them, and exclaimed sharply: "Gentlemen! +You had better speak out loud; nobody whispers in my presence. Can +either of <i>you</i> perhaps inform me where the two missing persons are to +be found?"</p> + +<p>Wallion replied:</p> + +<p>"They have gone to fetch some friends of mine, who might otherwise +arrive too late to meet you...."</p> + +<p>Ortiz' eyes blazed; this time he was visibly provoked, and patches of +red appeared on his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"So that is what you are waiting for! I saw through you from the first; +you are at the bottom of all this. You must be a very optimistic man, +Maurice Wallion, if you imagine that I have not anticipated your +action. Do I need to tell you that nothing can stop me?"</p> + +<p>He struck the table with the palm of his hand.</p> + +<p>"I am the master of Copper House for to-night, and I intend to show +it! You have sent them to alarm the authorities? That is a good move: +but do you suppose that Rastakov would be such a fool as to admit them? +And if he did, what would be the result? When the authorities get here, +they will find no one to tell them what has occurred. I sweep clean +after me, as you ought to know, after seeking me for so long."</p> + +<p>"Brooms don't always sweep quite clean enough!" answered Wallion; +"to begin with, how do you know that the runaways have not taken +Tarraschin's memorandum with them, as literature for the journey?"</p> + +<p>This shot struck home. Ortiz walked up to the journalist, and looked at +him intently.</p> + +<p>"If you have dared to do that!" said he, slowly; "but no, it is +impossible. You couldn't be so foolishly reckless!"</p> + +<p>He turned to Lona Ivanovna, who met his eyes without flinching.</p> + +<p>"I know you, Lona Ivanovna! For you, and for him there," and he nodded +contemptuously at the silent figure crouched in the armchair, "the +document is altogether too costly!"</p> + +<p>He swung round on his heel.</p> + +<p>"Baron Fayerling! What are you waiting for? If there is such delay in +bringing in my prisoners, I must take more vigorous measures."</p> + +<p>The baron bowed low.</p> + +<p>"I believe they are on the way here," he answered.</p> + +<p>The Austrian seized Wallion by the arm:</p> + +<p>"Hark, I hear people coming up the avenue! Either they have been +caught, or else...."</p> + +<p>A noise outside became audible. The journalist looked out of the +window, and saw a dozen lanterns coming up the avenue, in whose light +the dark faces of a band of men were visible; rifle-barrels gleamed, +and a voice shouted:</p> + +<p>"Are you all here? In with you, there is no time to lose!"</p> + +<p>A crowd of men surged into the hall.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Leo and Sonia determine to steal a motor-car but fall into an +unexpected trap</i></h3> + + +<p>Never before had Leo found the avenue between the Copper House and +Karka gates so interminably long. Sometimes it seemed as wide as a +boulevard, at others no broader than a woodland path, where he kept on +bumping into the trees, and grazing his hands. The rain, which blew in +diagonal lines across their path, or fell upon their heads in heavy +drops from the thick foliage, drenched, but did not cool him; hot and +breathless, he stumbled continually, and at last stood still, perfectly +bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" he panted to the young girl. "It has never taken me more than +six minutes to walk down this avenue, but to-night it seems by some +sort of black magic to be five times longer than usual. If one could at +least see one's own nose!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" whispered Sonia. "We are somewhere near the lodge; I fancied I +saw a light...."</p> + +<p>Leo started nervously.</p> + +<p>"Is there someone behind us?" he exclaimed, trying to peer between +the trees. But he could no longer see even the lights on the terrace, +and came to the conclusion that they must somehow have traversed the +entire length of the avenue.</p> + +<p>"No, it's nobody," said the girl, after listening for a minute; "they +are too busy now with Ortiz' arrival."</p> + +<p>"Ortiz! don't speak of him, I am scared to death when I think of his +face: supposing he comes after us!"</p> + +<p>"No, no," said the girl, catching hold of his coat. "Never mind Ortiz +now! Look, isn't that a light over there?"</p> + +<p>They went on through the trees; a flash of lightning flickered through +the darkness, but its momentary glimmer was not sufficient to show them +their exact whereabouts; it was succeeded by a brief peal of thunder, +echoing among the surrounding hills. Leo could see nothing of the light +which the girl had noticed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" she insisted; "it was just as though somebody was lighting +a pipe—ah, there it is again!"</p> + +<p>This time they really saw a faint glow, which threw an intermittent +light upon a brutal face, wreathed in smoke, whilst a burning match +ricochetted through the air and went out. Leo recognized the face of +the gate-keeper Tugan, who had fired at him on his first arrival at the +Copper House.</p> + +<p>They heard him grumbling to himself, and suddenly a light flared +out again: the man had opened a dark-lantern, and was flashing it +suspiciously first on one side, then on the other, but without +discovering the fugitives, who had taken cover behind the trunk of a +large tree. After some minutes the light vanished, and they thought +they heard steps moving away. Meanwhile, the temporary illumination had +shown them where they were: the lodge was not more than twenty paces +away from them, and twenty paces further on to the right, they could +make out the bars of the gates. The gate-keeper seemed to be the only +human being about.</p> + +<p>"He has gone," whispered Sonia. "He went out of the gate."</p> + +<p>"No," returned Leo, "he went inside: I heard a door shut."</p> + +<p>"Impossible, for we should see a light in the window."</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily; he would be on the look-out."</p> + +<p>They wrangled obstinately, though in subdued tones, assured that the +rain and the wind were sufficient to cover any sound they might make.</p> + +<p>"Let us wait a few seconds, and we shall know for certain"; Leo +proposed finally; "I don't feel quite comfortable about it; the old fox +may be lying in wait."</p> + +<p>They stood so close together, sheltering as best they could from the +rain, that the girl's soft hair brushed his face, and he could feel the +vibration of her hurried breathing. She was evidently strung-up to a +high pitch of excitement, and her agitation communicated itself to him, +making him feel strengthless and confused.</p> + +<p>"Sonia," said he, taking her hand, "I may call you Sonia, mayn't I? +Your fingers are like ice, are you very frightened? Things have gone +rather well, so far."</p> + +<p>"No," she answered in a low tone, not withdrawing her hand; "I am not +frightened...."</p> + +<p>He ventured to squeeze the little hand.</p> + +<p>"You'll see, if once we can get safely out of this, it will be all +right. We shall manage to outwit the lot of them, Ortiz and his +myrmidons; he shan't hurt your people, and to-morrow a happier future +will dawn...."</p> + +<p>"There can be no future for me," she burst out mournfully, "unless, +unless...."</p> + +<p>"Yes, unless what? Tell me."</p> + +<p>"Unless Sergius is saved. He runs the greatest risk of all, and if he +dies...."</p> + +<p>She broke off with a sob, and the sound struck Leo like a blow.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course, Sergius," he murmured. "Oh, that'll be all right. +Sergius shan't be taken from you."</p> + +<p>In spite of his brave words he was conscious of a feeling of exhaustion +and disappointment, as he realized that he had been fixing his hopes on +something that was quite out of his reach ... no, it was best as it +was ... Sergius! So all her anxiety was for him. Ah well, perhaps it +was the most suitable....</p> + +<p>He pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"Come along!" he encouraged her; "let's go ahead to rescue Sergius."</p> + +<p>They went up to the lodge, and tried to look in through the window.</p> + +<p>"He isn't there," whispered the girl.</p> + +<p>"No, so it seems," muttered Leo; "but which way did he go?"</p> + +<p>"That doesn't matter, we needn't bother about him," she returned +impatiently. "Don't you remember that the telephone is here? We must +telephone for help."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are right, let us do so at once."</p> + +<p>They skirted the wall, and approached the door. Leo turned the handle, +found the door unfastened, and entered.</p> + +<p>Something whizzed past him with an ominous sound, and struck the +door-post with a crack: it was a knife.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" cried the young man, "is that your game, you sneaking brute!"</p> + +<p>The burly form of the gate-keeper loomed dimly just inside the door, +and Leo flung himself unhesitatingly upon him, for he knew that it was +a matter of life or death. His enemy seized him in a bear's hug, but he +wriggled out of it, and planted his fist squarely in the center of the +brutal face. The fellow reeled backwards, slipped his right hand behind +him, and raised the butt of his gun over his head, with a furious +bellow.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I have had enough of that gun of yours," said Leo; "I owe you +something for yesterday. Tit for tat, you know. Now then, come on and +get it! And there's another: and just one more!"</p> + +<p>Tugan had counted too much on his brute strength; the young man's +powerful onrush gave him no chance of inflicting his intended +death-blow with the clubbed rifle; a smashing blow on the point of the +chin knocked him off his feet, he fell backwards over chairs and table +with a crash, and lay motionless.</p> + +<p>Leo groped for the matches, and a tiny, flickering flame lighted up the +room. Tugan was stunned, and lay like a pole-axed steer on the floor; +Sonia stared at him in alarm.</p> + +<p>"Is he dead?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"No, he will soon come to."</p> + +<p>With a certain satisfaction, Leo reflected that he must now have +regained the prestige which he had lost in her eyes by his sham fight +with the Austrian. The match went out, but he struck another, and +lighted a candle which stood on the table. The telephone became visible +on the wall near the door, and a thrill of triumph went through him, as +he picked up the receiver. At last he had succeeded! In another minute +their plight would be made known to the outside world, and help would +be forthcoming.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" he shouted impatiently: "hallo! Now then, Exchange! Can't you +answer? Are you all asleep there? Hallo, hallo!"</p> + +<p>Sonia gave a cry and pointed to the wall.</p> + +<p>"Look! the wires are cut! The telephone is useless!"</p> + +<p>Leo saw that she was right: the cut wires were dangling down. With an +exclamation of dismay, he flung away the receiver.</p> + +<p>"It is dreadful," faltered Sonia; "it shows that they have no further +need of it; they just want to secure themselves against being +surprised. We are lost!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," muttered Leo, "not yet."</p> + +<p>He extinguished the candle, and they hurried out again into the rain, +which had come on more heavily. They looked around them, and Leo said:</p> + +<p>"We must get out through the gates."</p> + +<p>"It's the only way," she agreed, but broke off. "Oh, look, look! +They're coming!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Leo glanced instinctively up the avenue. Far back amongst the great +trees, lights began to be reflected in the puddles, and to throw +fantastic, leaping shadows on the path. There seemed to be four or five +lanterns, and their rapid movements showed that the men who carried +them were running.</p> + +<p>Without a word, Leo made for the gates; they were just ajar, and +creaked horribly as they were pushed open to let the fugitives through. +Out on the high-road they could hear voices inside the park, giving +the alarm. In the middle of the road, eight or ten steps away, stood a +large car, quivering with the throbbing of its engine. Two fugitives in +wet coats were crouching under the hood, but they sprang out, and their +black shadows were clearly defined against the beams of the headlights.</p> + +<p>"We must have this," said Leo, and he rushed forward ready to throw the +two figures into the mud. He immediately recognized one of them to be +Marcus Tassler; the other was, presumably, the chauffeur. The young man +"saw red," and he cried:</p> + +<p>"Ah, here is our excellent friend, our benefactor, the honest merchant! +So you persist in hanging about here, sir! I suppose you carry about +the mortgages in your pocket, to make quite sure that I am not running +off with the securities for your cash. Come along, old boy!—you fat +little Nebuchadnezzar!—just come along, and I'll reckon up what I owe +you!"</p> + +<p>He advanced threateningly, and, with a bound, Tassler placed himself in +safety on the other side of the car.</p> + +<p>"The fellow is mad!" he yelled. "Shoot him! Knock him down!"</p> + +<p>The chauffeur threw himself between them, with a spanner in his gloved +hand. He was a little bit of a man, and Leo put both arms around his +waist, lifted him up, in spite of his frantic struggles, and flung him +across the road, where he disappeared with a splash. Tassler continued +to shout and threaten from the further side of the car.</p> + +<p>"Easy there, old boy!" said Leo. "I haven't time...."</p> + +<p>Sonia had already clambered into the car, and he followed her. He threw +himself down behind the wheel, and grasped it as eagerly as though it +had been a life-buoy. It was a pleasant surprise to find that the car +was a "Mercedes," such as he had frequently driven in California. He +cast one more look through the gates, towards the avenue: the dancing +lights had almost caught them up. He touched the starting-gear with +a light and practiced hand, and the car began to purr gently, gave a +slight jerk, and rolled forward, as the tires took a grip of the wet +surface of the road.</p> + +<p>Tassler tore open his coat, snatched out a little nickelled revolver, +and—piff, piff!—a couple of bullets whizzed past them. "Bang!" a +rifle replied from the avenue. The young man laughed aloud. Sonia +looked at him with surprise, and with renewed interest: he seemed +transformed. The fighting blood of the Graths had for a few short +moments wakened into life in this last effeminate scion of the race. At +that minute he would have marched up to a battery of machine-guns: his +eyes sparkled, and his long, "artistic" hair seemed to stand out round +his head like a halo. The car shot away, its fifty horse-power obedient +to the touch of his hand: they were off on the road to freedom. The +dazzling headlights illuminated the darkness for ten yards ahead of +them, and made the wet road shine like polished marble. The trees +bordering the road stood motionless, their boughs heavy with moisture. +And still the rain streamed and splashed down on them, in a tepid, +unceasing shower-bath: it gurgled in the ditches, and drummed on the +glass wind-screen of the car.</p> + +<p>"Au revoir, Marcus!" Leo shouted over his shoulder. His voice was +drowned in a peal of thunder, but the girl clapped her hands.</p> + +<p>"That's splendid!" she exclaimed delightedly. "They can't catch us! +Where will you drive to?"</p> + +<p>"First of all to the nearest usable telephone," he replied. "And +then—well, I hope there may be some sort of police-station in this +neighborhood, otherwise we must make straight for Stockholm; it's all +plain sailing now."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the way?"</p> + +<p>"Don't I just! Like the inside of my pocket!"</p> + +<p>His self-confidence had gone up a hundred per cent., since he got his +hands on the steering-wheel. He let out the car to its fullest extent, +murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Good old Mercedes!—it's up to you, now! Show what you can do!"</p> + +<p>And almost at the same instant, as the car obeyed him, and shot out +at full speed, with the dizzying rush of a torpedo—at that instant +the catastrophe was upon them! Their triumph was changed into bitter +disappointment, and now they understood why so few shots had been sent +after them; it was not freedom, but a murderous trap that awaited them.</p> + +<p>"The wretches!" cried Leo. "They mean to murder us!"</p> + +<p>Across the road in front of them, they caught sight of a network +of slender, gleaming, sharp-edged threads; they were steel wires, +stretched like a barbed-wire entanglement from side to side. At the +speed at which they were going, every one of these wires must meet +them like a sword-blade: it was impossible to evade them, they were +everywhere.</p> + +<p>The steering-wheel spun round between the young man's +convulsively-working fingers; the car leaped from the track, swung +round on two wheels, gave a terrific lurch, and ran in under the trees +to a distance of several feet. The whole dead-weight of the ponderous +machine was flung crashing into the ditch. Leo was shot through the +air, and fell with outspread arms, and a sickening thud, deep into a +soft, water-logged swamp. He rolled over, felt the water spurt up under +his arms, and struggled to his knees. Both the lamps of the car had +been smashed, and impenetrable darkness surrounded him. Dizzy with the +shock, he felt as though he were still falling, and, faint with terror, +he managed to catch hold of a branch. At length his head cleared, and +he remembered his companion; what had become of her?</p> + +<p>"Sonia!" he called anxiously; "Sonia!"</p> + +<p>He scrambled to his feet. A sharp pain in his left shoulder showed +him that he had not escaped unhurt, but for the minute that seemed of +little consequence.</p> + +<p>"Sonia, Sonia, where are you?"</p> + +<p>"Here!" answered a faint voice.</p> + +<p>He took a few steps, and ran into her; she was on her feet, leaning +against the trunk of a tree, and trying to bandage her right hand with +her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?" he asked. "Can you walk?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied; "it's only a scratch. What about you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing to speak of."</p> + +<p>"Let's go on," she murmured, but tottered as she spoke, and fell into +his arms. "My head is a little giddy—never mind me—go...."</p> + +<p>He saw that she was on the point of fainting, lifted her up, and +carried her down to the road.</p> + +<p>"Put me down," she said in a weak voice: "I can walk; we must hurry."</p> + +<p>The lights from the gates were already quite near; they came on like a +swarm of flying gnats, and running footsteps splashed along the road. +At the sight of the wrecked car, a great shout of savage laughter was +raised, and a voice called out:</p> + +<p>"Stay there, you two, or I shall shoot!"</p> + +<p>They were surrounded, and rough hands caught hold of them. Marcus +Tassler's breathless voice panted in the background:</p> + +<p>"Keep a sharp look-out on them, and take them with you to the Copper +House. That was a very short drive, wasn't it, my young friends! You +haven't much fight left in you, have you?"</p> + +<p>He came up, laughing and rubbing his hands. Leo's excitement had died +away, his muscles relaxed, and he realized that he was beaten. Fate was +against them. Without a word, he and the young girl walked back side +by side to the gates, surrounded by eight or ten men who hustled them +along with coarse jests. They were prisoners once more. As Leo took a +last glance in the direction where their lost freedom awaited them, he +saw a little bright light shine out and twinkle, a long way off. It +seemed to come from one of the hills to the left of the road, about a +mile or so away, and was probably a signal. He wondered idly what it +meant, and took it for granted that it was exchanged between some of +Rastakov's men, but turned listlessly into the avenue, too worn-out +to think. He didn't care what happened now: he had done his best—and +failed!</p> + +<p>Yet when he remembered Gabriel Ortiz, whose face he had already seen +for one terrifying moment, he shuddered. The girl murmured softly:</p> + +<p>"Ortiz is waiting for us!"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Tarraschin's memorandum changes owners</i></h3> + + +<p>Inside the Copper House, the atmosphere of suspense became more and +more heavily charged; nobody quite knew the cause of the sounds +which now reached them from the avenue. It was impossible to guess +what Ortiz was thinking, for he had spread out a map on the table, +and was studying it carefully. Wallion could see that it was a map +of the environs of the Copper House. Suddenly Ortiz looked up into +the journalist's eyes, with a frown; at that moment he really looked +uncommonly like the "Little Gray Corporal." With his sparse, straggling +hair, his keen, rather preoccupied glance, his small mouth, and round +but determined chin, he was an exact copy of Napoleon, and the gray +coat enveloping his thick-set figure increased the realistic effect.</p> + +<p>Although he was evidently aware of this, and took pleasure in +maintaining the pose, he did not lay himself open to ridicule: there +was a threatening expression in his eyes, and his remarks were +emphasized by the presence of the carbines at the door.</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that?" he said, slowly; "there goes your last chance."</p> + +<p>"It may be help coming," retorted Wallion imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"Do you really think that?"</p> + +<p>"You yourself need to study a map: you would be powerless against a +well-planned surprise."</p> + +<p>Ortiz raised his eyebrows, but his immediate reply virtually admitted +the truth of the insinuation.</p> + +<p>"A whole regiment would not be able to prevent my getting away by sea."</p> + +<p>"As long as you did not fall in with two or three torpedo boats outside +the headland!"</p> + +<p>"Ah," murmured Ortiz, "is that why you sent off your friends?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they will give the alarm to the coast guards, if they have not +already been warned. I had not counted on a stolen submarine when I +came here, but now I know where I have you...."</p> + +<p>As they talked, both men were on the alert for sounds from outside; +people were approaching, and as though at a given signal, those inside +the room re-grouped themselves.</p> + +<p>Ortiz and Fayerling took a few quick steps towards the door, and the +sentries grounded their rifles; Wallion, Raebel and Lona Ivanovna drew +back towards the window, and stood in front of the pretended Andrei +Bernin, in his armchair. The two groups kept a watchful eye on one +another across the room.</p> + +<p>"Discussion is useless," said Ortiz, presently; "your friends have +failed—look!"</p> + +<p>A confused mass of shadows became visible through the doorway, and +rifle-butts clanged on the hall floor. Two weary and dejected figures +were pushed forward into the circle of light in the middle of the room: +they were Leo and Sonia, and Wallion could not repress an exclamation +of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"You have failed?" he said, going up close to Leo; "haven't you +telephoned or done anything?"</p> + +<p>The young man shook his head wearily:</p> + +<p>"We did our best, but they were too clever for us: it was a trap."</p> + +<p>In a few words he told his story. Sonia had taken refuge in her aunt's +arms.</p> + +<p>The journalist perceived that he could no longer expect help from +any quarter, and that he must rely entirely upon his own skill and +resourcefulness; it was like the final moves in a game of chess, +when the board has been swept clean of all but a few pieces, and the +antagonists are two evenly-matched and quick-witted players. Leo Grath +and the others were pale with mortification: they had lost heart, and +were powerless to make any further attempt to save themselves, though +Max Raebel, who stood just behind the journalist, said in a low tone:</p> + +<p>"We are out of our depth, Mr. Wallion, things look bad for us. But if +you give the word, I am at your orders: at least, we can still use our +fists!"</p> + +<p>The journalist did not reply, but turned to Ortiz, who was listening +to Rastakov's and Tassler's obsequious report.</p> + +<p>"Gabriel Ortiz," he said quietly, "I warn you for the last time: we are +under the protection of the law of Sweden."</p> + +<p>The adventurer turned round, and inspected him from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"I presume I am to consider that as a formal protest?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It is addressed to your friends as well as to yourself."</p> + +<p>"My friends!" echoed Ortiz, in an indescribably contemptuous tone; "if +I and my plans were dependent on my friends, I should be weaker than +you. Do you suppose I take either friends or enemies into account? Your +protest is futile, sir, and if you haven't perceived it already, I +shall convince you of it."</p> + +<p>He gave an order in Russian. The two marines stepped forward, and +took possession of Lona Ivanovna's revolver, the butt of which was +protruding from her workbag. The old Russian lady was taken off her +guard, but she quickly realized that she was disarmed, and rapped out +an indignant oath. Sonia caressed her soothingly:</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Auntie," she whispered. "Keep still; don't make Sergius +uneasy: he is looking this way, and I think he wants to say something +to you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course, child," murmured the old lady, irritably, "he wants +to fight, and so do I; it is only natural...." She leaned across to +the white-haired figure in the armchair, and a few brief sentences were +exchanged between mother and son. The journalist watched her closely, +for he feared that the hotheaded old Russian was contemplating some +rash step, and suddenly he guessed that Sergius was still armed. Lona +Ivanovna must be trying to persuade him to give her his revolver. Was +she determined to make a fight for the document? To his relief, Sergius +simply shook his head, and Lona Ivanovna drew back in high dudgeon. As +she looked at Wallion, he said softly:</p> + +<p>"Let sleeping dogs lie! Leave your son's revolver, we may need it later +on."</p> + +<p>The other marine now proceeded to search Wallion's clothes, turning +over his papers, and rummaging in his pockets. He seemed greatly +surprised at finding nothing, and called out something inquiringly. +Ortiz waved his hand, and the man returned to the door. Wallion had +allowed himself to be searched without saying a word, though he thought +the more. The man had over-hauled him thoroughly and rapidly, and had +probably been a policeman in former times: which would account for his +dexterity. Ortiz had chosen his men carefully; supposing one of them +had the inspiration to—no! The journalist resolutely banished that +thought from his mind.</p> + +<p>But some obscure association of ideas made him open his cigarette case, +and light a cigarette at the tiny blue flame of the cigar-lighter which +he always carried in his waistcoat pocket. A barely perceptible smile +flitted across his face. Perhaps Ortiz noticed the smile, for he said +in a harsh voice:</p> + +<p>"You are unarmed; you have no possible means of communicating with the +outer world; my will is paramount here: need I put things more plainly? +My will! In those two words you have the only law that carries weight +here to-night."</p> + +<p>"And before what court of law will you enforce it?" inquired the +journalist politely.</p> + +<p>"Do you insist upon a set trial?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't put yourself out on my account!"</p> + +<p>"Take care! I am not accustomed to be spoken to in such a tone. I +suppose you are trying to gain time? What can you hope for now? I +assure you we could blow the Copper House into atoms to-night, without +a single person being near enough to see even the reflection in the +sky. Don't you hear that?"</p> + +<p>Hear? Wallion <i>felt</i>, with every nerve in his body, the long-drawn out +reverberations of the thunder-storm which raged anew over their heads, +whilst the dark window-panes were continually lit up by the glare of +the lightning. He knew perfectly well that the adventurer was not +exaggerating.</p> + +<p>"A court of law," Ortiz repeated. "Baron Fayerling, these people seem +to expect us to perform a scene from comic opera!... Very good, if +they are such sticklers for form, I appoint you as general prosecutor, +baron, but be brief."</p> + +<p>The baron said slowly:</p> + +<p>"I accuse Maurice Wallion of having used force to hinder me in carrying +out an appointed task, of having attacked my assistant Rastakov, and of +having helped the thief, Bernard Jenin, to get away with Tarraschin's +memorandum."</p> + +<p>"A comprehensive indictment!" remarked Wallion.</p> + +<p>"Do you deny it?"</p> + +<p>"What would be the good?"</p> + +<p>After a minute's silence, the baron proceeded:</p> + +<p>"I accuse Lona Ivanovna, Andrei Ivanovitch, and Sonia Andreievna, +of having received and hidden the thief, whose real name is Sergius +Tassler."</p> + +<p>"And whose father stands there!" interrupted Lona Ivanovna in a +threatening voice, pointing at the merchant, who started back; "of +what can <i>you</i> accuse your own son, and your former wife? Why are you +silent? Are you beginning to feel what an utter worm you are, little +Marcus? Speak, man! Out with it, or I am afraid you will choke...."</p> + +<p>The merchant tried to reply, but his trembling lips could only +articulate an indistinct murmur.</p> + +<p>"Silence!" said Ortiz sharply.... "You are to answer and not to ask +questions, Lona Ivanovna. Where have you hidden Sergius Tassler?" His +dark, steadfast gaze seemed to read her inmost thoughts....</p> + +<p>"You refuse to answer?"</p> + +<p>He put his hands behind his back, and came up to her, thrusting out +his head, and compelling her to meet his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You are obstinate? Do you think I need your answer? I tell you, I saw +through the whole of your miserable little secret as soon as I got into +the room—but it amused me to play with you—look here!"</p> + +<p>Before anyone guessed his intention, he had snatched the wig from +the fugitive's head; the blue spectacles fell on the floor, and were +broken. Sergius sprang up with a cry, and stood unmasked, pale and +agitated before Ortiz, who continued with appalling composure:</p> + +<p>"The game is up. No, my lad, your plan was really too audacious! You +didn't calculate that I should be aware of the important fact that +Andrei Bernin was dead; and besides, the man who wears a flowing beard +on a young face, should be careful to keep in the dark...."</p> + +<p>This revelation produced an overwhelming impression. The baron and +Rastakov, realizing how they had been tricked, stood mute, glaring +malignantly at the man who had foiled them; Lona Ivanovna tried +to spring forward, but one of Rastakov's men pushed her back and +raised his gun threateningly, whilst, as though in obedience to some +preconcerted signal, four more armed men came in from the hall.</p> + +<p>"Let him alone!" cried Lona Ivanovna. "I forbid you to touch him!"</p> + +<p>Ortiz did not seem to hear her; without changing his position, he +stood and studied Sergius Tassler's face, as though he were bent on +solving a problem. Wallion, who in his turn, watched Ortiz narrowly and +quietly, guessed what the problem was.</p> + +<p>"So it was you who brought Tarraschin's memorandum out of Russia?" said +the adventurer at length, thoughtfully. "What have you done with it?"</p> + +<p>"I shall not tell you," replied Sergius vehemently; "what have you to +do with us? We have a right...."</p> + +<p>"I want no unnecessary explanations. I know all about you. Will you +give me the paper of your own free will?"</p> + +<p>"Never!"</p> + +<p>"Then I shall take it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so sure that you can find it!"</p> + +<p>"I have no need to search," replied Ortiz, raising his hand. "I don't +think much of your intelligence: you are not wanting in brains, but you +rely too much on yourself, and you lack imagination. You have hidden +the paper somewhere about you—not in your clothes—they are liable to +be searched, aren't they?—what else have you? Ah, give me your stick!"</p> + +<p>A strange expression passed over Wallion's face, as Sergius +mechanically held out his stick, and he could not restrain an audible +"bravo," at the ingenuity of Ortiz' reasoning.</p> + +<p>Ortiz turned round, with the stick in his hand:</p> + +<p>"I appreciate your compliment, but the thing was perfectly simple. One +could see from here that the handle of the stick unscrews. Meantime, +your 'bravo' betrays that the secret was known to you, which makes it +less likely that the paper is still in its hiding-place; indeed, it is +hardly worth while looking inside."</p> + +<p>He tossed the stick to the baron, who with nervous haste unscrewed the +handle, and peeped into the cavity.</p> + +<p>"Manifestly empty!" remarked Ortiz, coolly; "that was to be expected: +it was a poor hiding-place, and no doubt you discovered it at once, Mr. +Wallion?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>"You have it then?"</p> + +<p>Wallion hesitated for the fractional part of a second.</p> + +<p>"I can give you my word of honor that I have not removed the paper from +the stick," he said then. "Are you so sure that it is not there after +all?"</p> + +<p>Leonard, who could not understand the journalist's intention, bit +his lips; he was beginning to think that Wallion was altogether too +complaisant, but Raebel gave him a dig in the ribs, and whispered with +a smile:</p> + +<p>"Have you ever seen an acrobat on the top of a pole? He's nothing to +Wallion: just keep your eye on him. He's not the sort of man who comes +to grief at the first round!"</p> + +<p>Although the Austrian spoke lightly, the perspiration stood on his +forehead: experience told him that the situation was critical, and he +could see that Ortiz was getting to an end of his patience. He did not +trouble further about the stick.</p> + +<p>"Sergius Tassler," he said sharply, "if you wish to live you must +answer me. Did you have Tarraschin's memorandum in your stick?"</p> + +<p>Sergius started back a little, but made no reply; his dark, resigned +face did not change, and he looked calmly at his tormentor.</p> + +<p>"Answer him, for Heaven's sake," sobbed Sonia; "answer, Sergius, I +won't have you die!"</p> + +<p>His face softened at her passionate appeal, and he said curtly:</p> + +<p>"I did hide the paper in my stick; I do not know who took it out; I +have nothing further to say."</p> + +<p>There was no mistaking his sincerity, and Ortiz showed no sign of +doubting his word.</p> + +<p>"You have said enough," he remarked, his eyes beginning to sparkle; +"you have said more than enough, but you are even more imprudent than I +thought: now I understand!"</p> + +<p>His eyes rested for an instant on the young girl, with a thoughtful +and not altogether unfriendly expression; then, with a shrug of the +shoulders, he dismissed her from his mind, and for the first time +turned his whole attention to Lona Ivanovna.</p> + +<p>"It must be you," he accused her. "You are intelligent and determined: +you said to yourself, 'It will be better for me to take the +responsibility, Sergius is too weak.' You watched over your son at +night, whilst he slept, didn't you? You need not answer: the thing is +obvious; you took the document secretly, that you might hide it more +securely. You felt yourself strong enough to bear the responsibility +alone. Very good. The entire responsibility is yours, since you will +have it so. Now you must answer me."</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna replied steadily and unhesitatingly:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I took it whilst Sergius was asleep. Only I know where it is to +be found now—and you cannot frighten me!" She laughed grimly:</p> + +<p>"I think I have baffled you this time. You may kill me, but you won't +find what you are looking for. Those brutes have ransacked the whole +house twice, and you may do it once again. You have no chance of +succeeding, and you may believe that I know what I am saying, when you +recollect that I have all my life been accustomed to play hide-and-seek +with the Tsar's secret police. Go your way, Gabriel Ortiz, you have +failed. An old woman has beaten you!"</p> + +<p>The adventurer showed no sign of discomposure; he allowed her biting +scorn to pass unobserved; not so her challenge.</p> + +<p>After a few minutes' calculation, he said, more to himself than to her:</p> + +<p>"There are only two or three places where you can have hidden it; but +why waste time in guessing? There is a much simpler way."</p> + +<p>As he said this, he showed his white, even teeth, not in a smile, but +rather in the fixed grin of a wild beast, while a grim look came over +his face, almost transforming its expression. He turned to the marines, +and gave the word of command:</p> + +<p>"Ready! The first to stir from his place will be shot."</p> + +<p>Half a dozen rifle-muzzles were pointed at the prisoners.</p> + +<p>"Rastakov, take your revolver and place it against Sergius Tassler's +forehead. I will count three—and at the word 'three,' you will fire."</p> + +<p>The six marines took careful aim, and nobody stirred, while Rastakov +crossed the room, and placed his heavy weapon against Sergius' right +temple. There was a breathless silence, for they all realized Ortiz' +intention. Marcus Tassler turned ashen-gray; without a sound he left +the room, and was not seen again.</p> + +<p>"I forbid anyone to stir a finger," Ortiz continued; "this business +is between you and me, Lona Ivanovna. I have your son—you have the +document: will you exchange?"</p> + +<p>A dead pause ensued. The old lady raised her hand slowly to her throat, +and gazed as though fascinated at Rastakov's forefinger, which was +touching the trigger.</p> + +<p>Sergius had closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't think of me, Mother," he said, softly; "think only of our cause."</p> + +<p>She opened her mouth, but no sound issued from her lips.</p> + +<p>"One!"</p> + +<p>Sonia sprang up, but Leo caught her in his arms, at a glance from the +journalist, who was now very pale. Lona Ivanovna remained stiff and +immovable.</p> + +<p>"Let me go!" cried the girl, hysterically. "Oh, +you—cowardly—wretches! If only I were a man!"</p> + +<p>She sank down, half fainting, but weeping as though her heart would +break. Wallion clenched his hands, but kept still; he seemed to be +waiting for something.</p> + +<p>"Two!"</p> + +<p>A glazed look came over Lona Ivanovna's eyes, and she stared at Ortiz +as though she had never seen him before; she seemed to look at him as +though from an immense distance, and to be straining every nerve to +control herself. She saw his pitiless eyes, his lips unclosing for the +third time ... she tore the workbag from her left arm, and threw it on +the table.</p> + +<p>"There!" she exclaimed. "Let Sergius go, you murderer! The paper is in +the bag."</p> + +<p>"In the bag!"</p> + +<p>The adventurer put out his hand, but drew it quickly back.</p> + +<p>"If you are lying, ..." he said threateningly.</p> + +<p>"I am not lying," she replied wearily. "I took the paper out of the +stick whilst Sergius was sleeping. I was certain that nobody would +look for it in a place that was so apparent to everyone. The paper is +very small, and in a tiny roll; it is lying amongst the lace-work.... +Forgive me, Sergius!"</p> + +<p>She sank down on a chair. Ortiz turned the bag upside down, and shook +out the work on the table. Wallion was carefully choosing a cigarette +from his case; he smiled: the matter was taking the turn for which he +had hoped from the beginning, and Ortiz had already wasted nearly two +precious hours; his own opportunity was come at last.</p> + +<p>"Well, Gabriel Ortiz," said he, in a nonchalant tone, "is the +memorandum there?"</p> + +<p>The adventurer had searched all through the contents of the workbag; he +now pushed it aside, and began to examine the folds of the lace with +nervous eagerness.</p> + +<p>"You won't find anything there," the journalist proceeded; "Lona +Ivanovna made a mistake. The paper is not in her workbag: <i>I</i> have it!"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>Wallion speaks out and Rastakov is balked of his prey</i></h3> + + +<p>The journalist's utterly unforeseen announcement electrified everyone, +and all faces were turned towards him, with intense surprise. That +Maurice Wallion could have obtained possession of Tarraschin's +memorandum, had occurred to none of them, least of all to Lona Ivanovna.</p> + +<p>"You, you!" she stammered. "How is it possible?"</p> + +<p>Ortiz' cold, hard voice broke in:</p> + +<p>"Are you trying to shield her son? She is lying, the bag is empty—I do +not believe you."</p> + +<p>"Allow me to explain the situation," said the journalist, who still +held in his left hand the cigarette which he had taken from his case, +and, in his right the cigar-lighter, whose little flame burned clearly +and evenly; his hands were perfectly steady.</p> + +<p>"The paper really was in Lona Ivanovna's bag—until the time when, +after hearing the story of the Bernin family, I demonstrated to them +that the stick was empty, to Sergius Tassler's great astonishment. +Following your example, Ortiz, I concluded that his mother, wishing +to shift the responsibility on to her own shoulders, had secretly +removed the paper, but, unlike you, I went a step further, and +assumed, from what I knew of her character, that she had hidden +it in her workbag, that well-known receptacle which everybody was +accustomed to see hanging on her arm. I fully anticipated that you, +my dear Ortiz, would proceed to the sort of compulsion we have just +witnessed, and what would have been the good of her stratagem then? +I at once decided to remove the precious document to its third, +best, and final hiding-place. Under the pretext of examining Andrei +Bernin's room, I was left alone with Lona Ivanovna for a few minutes, +and—'hey presto!'—Russia's fate lay snugly in my waistcoat pocket. +That is the story. You may conscientiously leave mother and son in +peace, my dear Ortiz; the thief—that thief who caused the baron such +heart-searchings—is none other than myself!"</p> + +<p>"Damnation!" ejaculated Ortiz, his eyes bloodshot and staring; "shall I +ever get hold of that infernal paper?"</p> + +<p>"The outlook doesn't seem very promising," agreed the journalist, +smiling. "It has passed through various hands in the last day or two, +and its present owner—well, I have a pretty good idea that he will not +let it out of his possession!"</p> + +<p>His unshaken audacity took Ortiz aback: he hesitated for a minute, and +the journalist availed himself of the pause.</p> + +<p>"Let us talk things over," said he. "If anyone attempts to come near +me, or to threaten me with his gun, I swear that you will never have +the document."</p> + +<p>"Where have you got it?" asked the adventurer reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, where!" laughed Wallion. "One of your men searched me just now, +didn't he? Did he find it? No. And yet I can assure you that he saw it. +I believe he even touched it! You see this tiny flame, and this little +cigarette? The moment I light my cigarette, your dreams for the future +will vanish in smoke, Ortiz."</p> + +<p>"You would pay dearly for it!"</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> would, you mean. A far too expensive cigarette, and that's a +fact! Now, then, stand still, all the lot of you. Ortiz, keep them +quiet. It wouldn't take me a second, and my death wouldn't be much of a +compensation for your loss."</p> + +<p>"I do not believe that Tarraschin's memorandum could be compressed into +so small a space," Ortiz objected incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" returned the journalist. "Didn't Lona Ivanovna say that +the paper was quite small, and tightly-rolled up? The idea struck me +when I removed it from her bag, and just before you came, I made this +arrangement, on the chance of my things being searched. You don't +believe me? Look here, then."</p> + +<p>He squeezed the little cylinder between his fingers, so that the +cigarette paper burst, and fluttered to the ground, whilst a thin layer +of tobacco fell from the ends; there remained in his hand a tightly +rolled sheet of white paper, which began to uncurl as though a spring +had been released. Ortiz leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"No, keep back!" said the journalist. "You observe that the flame is +all but touching the paper now. You can see perfectly well where you +are—do you recognize Prince Tarraschin's handwriting? Shall I tell you +that it is written in French? Shall I read it out to you?"</p> + +<p>"You are mad!" muttered Ortiz hoarsely. "What can you do? If you leave +this room, you will be shot."</p> + +<p>"Yes, from behind, I suspect. But I prefer to stop here, I have +something to say to you...."</p> + +<p>"If you stay here with that paper in your hands, you will be shot. You +have never been in greater danger than you are now."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure of that! Have you really the moral courage to watch +Tarraschin's document burn? Make up your mind, I am waiting."</p> + +<p>Ortiz watched the journalist's movements like a lynx, but Wallion had +gauged him correctly: he could not bring himself to run the risk, +however willingly he would have given the order to shoot the man who +was daring to thwart him on the very threshold of success. He gave a +reluctant signal, and the weapons were lowered.</p> + +<p>"Speak out!" he said, "what do you want?"</p> + +<p>Wallion stepped back a few paces. His bold "coup" had made him master +of the situation for the time being, but the outlook was dangerous +in the extreme. He must keep an eye on practically all his enemies +at once: should but one of them succeed in raising his gun, he would +be lost; he was a prisoner, and compelled to plan his escape as best +he could, alone and unarmed, under the eyes of his captors. Speed +was all-important; never had he felt his mind clearer or cooler than +now, as he reviewed every possibility. He knew that Sergius Tassler +had a revolver within reach, hidden presumably among the rugs of his +armchair: and he remembered that Max Raebel only awaited a signal to +come to his assistance: on these two facts, his entire scheme must be +built up.</p> + +<p>"Order Rastakov to stand back," he said briefly; "Sergius Tassler has +nothing more to do with this case."</p> + +<p>The Russian had remained standing near Sergius, but at a nod from his +employer, he thrust his revolver back into his pocket, and returned to +his place by the door. As he did so, Wallion exchanged a rapid glance +with the Austrian. He saw Raebel's intelligent eyes widen inquiringly, +and he nodded almost imperceptibly. The Austrian understood the signal, +and would now be ready to play his part; Wallion relied implicitly upon +his experience and ready wit. The important thing now, was to engross +Ortiz' whole attention for the next few minutes, and the journalist +began again with a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have something to say to you, Ortiz; this is a good +opportunity, for I am afraid we shall not meet again after to-night. +You intend to kill me, if you can; I intend to render you harmless, if +I can: the situation is not without its piquancy."</p> + +<p>Ortiz had pulled out his handkerchief, and was drying his hands +nervously: there was little of the Great Napoleon about his strained +features at this moment.</p> + +<p>"You talk too much," he said hoarsely; "get to business."</p> + +<p>"By all means. Your line has run out, my dear Ortiz. There was a time +when I admired you, in spite of my position as your natural enemy. Your +former adventures attracted me by a sort of simple and great-hearted +freshness which characterized them, but the gigantic plan which is now +dragging you to the verge of a precipice, is marked by an arrogance +which the gods might envy. I can no longer admire a man who allows +murder and robbery to be the milestones on his road to success; you +should have kept your hands clean, Ortiz: there is too much blood on +them! All the millions which you have distributed so lavishly, cannot +alter the fact that you are a murderer, at war with Society, and, +there, self-condemned."</p> + +<p>The adventurer glared angrily at him, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"I do not expect you to understand me! You and I stand at opposite ends +of the great, unimpressionable fabric of Society; how could you enter +into my plans and my dreams?"</p> + +<p>The journalist did not reply immediately. He had seen Max Raebel move a +shade closer to Sergius Tassler, and exchange two or three words with +him, and a suppressed excitement began to rise in him, as he continued:</p> + +<p>"Is your plan so difficult to fathom? You forget that I have read +Tarraschin's memorandum, that I know what has become of your millions, +and that I am well aware of the snare of specious promises in which you +have entangled your dupes. You are not so strong as you imagine; you +have worked to overthrow one party, and to support the other, so that +you might use the gratitude of the successful one as a stepping-stone +to power. But the Russian Revolution in March was none of your doing: +you made a start in the opposite direction, and threw in your lot with +the reactionaries, whose prospects seemed the more favorable. You made +a mistake there: Kerensky still sits firmly in the saddle, and Prince +Tarraschin's promises will never be fulfilled, for however strong your +followers may be, they will never restore the Tsar to power."</p> + +<p>He spoke slowly and impressively, and his words were now addressed to +the silent group by the door, rather than to their leader. He noticed a +strange expression in Rastakov's black eyes.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Ortiz saw it too, for he exclaimed furiously:</p> + +<p>"Silence! You lie!"</p> + +<p>"Shall I give you a summary of Tarraschin's written promises?" returned +Wallion, calmly, and, as Ortiz did not answer, he continued:</p> + +<p>"To be called 'Emperor of the Amazons' was, after all, a barren honor; +but as Governor-General of Siberia, you would rule over one of the +largest countries in the world. Can you deny that Prince Tarraschin +promised that post to you, on behalf of his party?"</p> + +<p>A murmur went round the room, and Rastakov's face wore a threatening +look, as he took in the full meaning of Wallion's information. Ortiz +fathomed his enemy's intention, and grew pale; it almost seemed that +his iron will was shaken, but he controlled himself with a tremendous +effort, and said:</p> + +<p>"You have read it yourself, and hold the proof of it in your hand. I +have never hesitated, and I do not hesitate now; but if you imagine +that my fate depends on a paper, you deceive yourself. I have many +strings to my bow. Governor-General of Siberia?—let that pass, as +you have said it, but it would only be a beginning: the whirlpool is +deep, I can subdue it." He raised his voice, and turned to the silent +audience round the door.</p> + +<p>"Have I not proved to you that I keep my promises? Has your future ever +looked so bright as it does now? I tell you, I can give you all that +your wildest dreams can picture. Power or riches, you have only to +choose; I have them both at my command."</p> + +<p>He chose his words cleverly, on the spur of the moment, and Wallion +realized that it was not only his millions that had attracted scores +of adherents to his cause. His personal strength fascinated them, and +his convincing arguments overruled their judgment. But the journalist +had no intention of allowing him time to vindicate himself. He gathered +that Max Raebel had by this time succeeded in conveying some sort of +brief, but evidently reinspiring intimation to Leonard Grath, Sonia, +and Lona Ivanovna in turn, for their faces had brightened with an +expression of eager anticipation. A moment later, seeing that Ortiz' +attention was temporarily diverted, the Austrian looked significantly +from Wallion to the two lamps. The journalist understood his meaning, +and nodded: it was nearly time!</p> + +<p>"Do not promise more than you can perform, Ortiz!" he exclaimed. "What +about those earlier promises of yours? Did you not assure Rastakov and +his people that the Bolshevists are your friends? You, the organizer of +the Reactionary Party in Russia?—for shame, what duplicity! What about +these last Bolshevist uprisings in Petrograd? Were they your work?"</p> + +<p>The vehemence of Wallion's attack struck Ortiz dumb.</p> + +<p>"I ... I am not obliged to answer," he said after a pause; "you are not +my judge!"</p> + +<p>"But you would like to be mine, wouldn't you? Perhaps you would rather +I burned the document?"</p> + +<p>The paper hovered nearer the little blue flame, and Ortiz exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Name your own price!"</p> + +<p>It was a sign of weakening: he was ready to buy what he could not take +by force.</p> + +<p>Wallion laughed, feigning intense surprise:</p> + +<p>"Is this little flame so valuable? You would see it extinguished at any +price?"</p> + +<p>"I will give you ten millions if you will blow it out," sad the +adventurer. "And your liberty...."</p> + +<p>"A fantastic offer!" said Wallion, his eyes glittering. "Does the +future Governor of Siberia propose it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, I decline it. You are a beaten man, Ortiz. Kerensky's government +has suppressed the Bolshevist risings in Petrograd, and remains in +power till further notice. A reactionary rising would be even less +successful...."</p> + +<p>Hardly had the journalist completed his sentence, when a dramatic +interruption occurred.</p> + +<p>Rastakov sprang forward. All the savagery in his primitive nature had +risen to the surface, his face was convulsed, and his voice like the +snarl of some wild beast:</p> + +<p>"Is it true that the Bolshevists are beaten?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes; did you not know it?" answered Wallion.</p> + +<p>"No! I thought ... Ortiz, you have played us false! Remember what you +promised!"</p> + +<p>Ortiz struck him full in the face.</p> + +<p>"How dare you, Rastakov!" he exclaimed harshly. "I have not paid you to +insult me."</p> + +<p>The blow left a red mark on Rastakov's white face. He staggered back, +his hands clutching the air; his eyes looked like those of a blind man.</p> + +<p>"Traitor!" he yelled.</p> + +<p>Slipping his right hand into his pocket, he raised it high over his +head, grasping a round, black object, which he was about to fling at +Ortiz, when the baron, throwing his whole weight upon him, wrenched the +deadly thing away, and dashed it through the nearest window, far out +into the park.</p> + +<p>The whole house was shaken by a terrific explosion, a column of earth +and flame rose high into the air, for a minute, and the atmospheric +pressure drove in the window-panes with a clatter of breaking glass.</p> + +<p>Before the last splinters had fallen on the carpet, Ortiz drew a +revolver from his pocket, and, apparently without even taking aim, shot +Rastakov through the head. The unfortunate Russian fell where he stood, +and did not move again.</p> + +<p>Rastakov was balked of his prey, and had paid for his mistake with his +life.</p> + +<p>The sudden tragedy paralyzed them all. Ortiz stared down at the dead +body.</p> + +<p>"One more!" he muttered; "one more!"</p> + +<p>At that minute, the journalist made an alarming discovery; the +draught from the broken window had blown out the little flame in the +cigar-lighter. There was not an instant to lose!</p> + +<p>"Now, Raebel!" he cried, and crouched down as quick as lightning. The +Austrian thrust his hand among the rugs on Sergius Tassler's armchair, +and pulled out a bright steel "Browning," which he aimed at the lamps. +Two shots rang out, and the lamps fell crashing to the floor.</p> + +<p>The room was plunged in darkness.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>In which Wallion shows that a great deal can be done in ten minutes</i></h3> + + +<p>It seemed as though a black velvet pall had been dropped over them. The +sudden transition from brilliant light to impenetrable darkness, was +almost physically painful, and ten or fifteen seconds passed before +anyone attempted to stir; each man was listening with bated breath for +his enemy's movements. A flash pierced the darkness: Ortiz had fired +at the journalist, or rather, at the spot where he had last seen him +standing. An infernal hubbub broke out: someone turned on an electric +torch, which was immediately shattered by a shot; a dozen rifles rang +out simultaneously, furniture fell to the ground, and panes of glass +jingled.</p> + +<p>"Get lights!" cried Ortiz, imperiously; "let no one escape: stand by +the windows and doors!"</p> + +<p>The journalist had carefully placed Tarraschin's memorandum in his +pocket-book, and was now ready to avail himself of the opportunity; he +moved noiselessly forward, and suddenly threw himself into the tumult +round the door. Striking out to right and left, his broad shoulders +soon cleared him a passage. A last shot was fired almost under his +chin, and he found himself out in the hall—free!</p> + +<p>There was no time to lose. The hall was dark, but the tramp of feet +warned him that at least half a score of men were making their way +through the glass doors. That way was obviously impossible. Towards +the kitchen regions, a faint light could be seen through the half-open +door: that exit was blocked too; to reach the upper floor by the +staircase, was his only chance. He hastened in that direction, +blessing the thick carpet, which deadened his footsteps, and took the +twenty-five stairs in four bounds. As he gained the topmost stair, he +dropped down on the landing like a cat, and held his breath: he had +heard someone breathing close by. But in a moment he uttered a sigh of +relief, as a familiar voice said softly:</p> + +<p>"It is I, Max Raebel. I know your step again, Wallion; this way!"</p> + +<p>He discerned a shadowy form, and a hand grasped his.</p> + +<p>"I think we may congratulate ourselves that we have won the first +round," added the Austrian.</p> + +<p>"What about the others?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I told Sergius Tassler and Grath to see to the ladies; I advised +them to offer no resistance, but if possible to take refuge in the +gardener's cottage. Ortiz will concentrate his attention on us."</p> + +<p>"It looks like it," Wallion agreed.</p> + +<p>The hall beneath them was filled with light. Fresh lamps had been +brought in and lighted, but a strange condition of uncertainty seemed +to prevail, and two or three voices were clamoring for Rastakov. Baron +Fayerling hurried forward, and the six marines marched across the +hall towards the stairs, with Ortiz behind them. At sight of him, the +threatening murmurs died away, and with a few decided orders the baron +quelled the disturbance.</p> + +<p>"The harmony seems slightly defective!" whispered the Austrian, "but it +will soon be too hot for us here; which way shall we go?"</p> + +<p>"To the winding-staircase on the back landing," replied Wallion +promptly. They crossed the passage, and he opened the door leading to +the backstairs, but immediately retreated, and bolted it hastily; he +had almost run into the arms of three of the forest-guards, who were +evidently on the look-out for him, and now began to batter on the door.</p> + +<p>"The deuce!" he murmured, "this is what one may call quick work! Back +again!"</p> + +<p>They ran back to the main staircase, which was now their only chance, +if they were not to be caught on that floor.</p> + +<p>"Are you armed?" asked Raebel.</p> + +<p>"No, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have Sergius Tassler's revolver, but only four cartridges left."</p> + +<p>Ortiz' bodyguard had nearly reached the top, when the two detectives +appeared on the landing. A shout greeted them, but before anyone could +shoot, the fugitives had gained the second floor, where Raebel turned +and fired a shot down the stairs.</p> + +<p>"That'll just give them something to think about," he explained; "I am +generous, as long as I have anything to give away."</p> + +<p>"That leaves you with only three shots, doesn't it?" said Wallion. +"Wait, that is not enough; I must get hold of something for myself +also."</p> + +<p>They heard someone running up, and the journalist stood a little to one +side. One of the marines, more quick-footed than the rest, appeared at +the top of the stairs. Wallion sprang silently upon him, seized him by +the back of the neck, swung him round, wrested the carbine from the +hands of the surprised and bewildered man, and, with a violent push, +sent him reeling backwards down the stairs. The living projectile +evidently landed in the very midst of his advancing comrades, and +a chorus of shouts and execrations followed. Wallion examined the +carbine, which was loaded with five rounds of ammunition.</p> + +<p>"Come along," said he, "we can't stop here."</p> + +<p>They mounted the third flight, which was narrower, and led straight to +the attics, and they looked round them in the darkness. Every corner +was filled with dusty boxes, worn-out furniture, and a medley of +nondescript objects; on the far side, they made out a ladder, set up +against the ceiling, beneath a bolted trapdoor. Wallion struck a match, +and looked at his watch: it was half-past nine. Their pursuers came on +noisily, though rather out of breath. Raebel seized an old high-backed +oak armchair, swung it up over his head, and hurled it with a crash +down the attic-stairs. A shot answered the challenge, and a bullet +whistled past the Austrian's right ear, as he stepped back swearing +softly:</p> + +<p>"There's no stopping them," he grumbled; "a machine-gun is what we +want!"</p> + +<p>The journalist was already at the top of the ladder, and pushing up the +creaking trapdoor. The Austrian followed him, and they both crawled out +upon the sloping copper roof. The night air blew cool and refreshing on +their heated faces, and Wallion let the heavy trapdoor fall back into +its place.</p> + +<p>"Shall we stop here," asked Raebel eagerly. "We could give them a warm +reception from this position."</p> + +<p>Wallion considered.</p> + +<p>"No," he said; "we have too little ammunition, and besides, there are +several attic windows from which they might fire on us."</p> + +<p>"But where in the world can we go?" exclaimed the flabbergasted Raebel. +"It seems to me, we have come as far as we can without flying!"</p> + +<p>"Follow me: I have an idea."</p> + +<p>The journalist turned, and began to creep along the roof, which was wet +and slippery. The rain had ceased, and the thunder no longer rumbled, +but the sky was still overcast, and the darkness denser than ever. +Raebel was no coward, but he was beginning to find the situation far +from pleasant, and muttered wrathfully to himself.</p> + +<p>"Be careful here," the journalist's voice warned him; "it's a curb +roof, as you know, and slopes abruptly."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked Raebel.</p> + +<p>"I am crawling down to the eaves," explained Wallion, his voice seeming +to come unexpectedly from beneath the Austrian's feet. He followed his +companion's example, slid dizzily down, and fortunately brought up, +feet foremost, at the eaves. There, to his indescribable horror, he +heard an extraordinary creaking and crashing, out in the empty space +beyond the edge of the roof.</p> + +<p>"Where are you, Wallion?" he faltered.</p> + +<p>"Here," replied a calm voice. "Don't you remember the old oak tree +behind the house? Spring right out from where you are now, and you will +find it is almost like jumping on to a mattress."</p> + +<p>"Gracious Heaven!" thought the Austrian, shutting his eyes, and without +waiting for any miracle from above, he took the leap, just as two +carbines were fired through the trapdoor.</p> + +<p>It seemed an age before he fell into a network of yielding branches. +Wallion's hand grasped him, and he found himself sitting astride a +good-sized bough.</p> + +<p>"A bird couldn't have done it better," whispered his friend. "This is a +funny life, but at any rate, we are making them dance to our tune!"</p> + +<p>"And where next?" inquired Raebel faintly.</p> + +<p>"Down to terra firma again, of course!"</p> + +<p>They climbed down, and reached the ground breathless, but unhurt. A +loud shout was heard on the roof, and a shot was fired in reply from +the terrace.</p> + +<p>"We must get right away from the house!" cried Wallion; "there's just +one chance in ten that we may find the coast clear."</p> + +<p>They ran helter-skelter through the nearest bushes, and came out on the +open space in front of the stable and cowhouse. But they had not gone +ten steps, before lights began to twinkle on all sides, and they saw +dark figures hurrying to intercept them.</p> + +<p>"No," said Raebel, "not one chance in a thousand. It is not within +human power to shake them off: they are worse than teazles!"</p> + +<p>Both men felt that they were not up to a long chase, exhausted as they +were after their efforts, and they instinctively steered their course +towards the stable, rushed in, and fastened the massive bolt. Here +they would at least gain a moment's respite, though they could hear +the steps of their pursuers outside, surrounding the building. They +breathed more easily, and looked at each other by the light of a match.</p> + +<p>"Listen," said Wallion slowly. "If help doesn't come soon, we shall +both be done for; we have seen too much, and Tarraschin's memorandum is +in my pocket-book. The document is all-important. If either of us can +save it, well and good: but if the worst happens, it must be destroyed. +Agreed?"</p> + +<p>"Agreed!" replied Raebel, seriously.</p> + +<p>They shook hands. A bullet crashed through the door. The match went +out, but Wallion struck another. The two horses in the stalls turned +their heads uneasily, and blinked at them with great, solemn eyes. They +passed through the stable, climbed into the hay-loft, and pulled the +ladder up after them. A minute later, the stable door was burst open by +a powerful blow from a huge piece of timber, and the place was invaded +by a swarm of dark figures. Wallion and Raebel fired simultaneously, +and a cry betrayed that someone had been hit; the besiegers drew back a +little, and there was a pause which lasted for several minutes.</p> + +<p>"That was too risky for them," whispered the Austrian; "they are +evidently meditating something else, but what?"</p> + +<p>The silence made him uneasy.</p> + +<p>"I don't like this," he murmured. "Why haven't they returned?"</p> + +<p>Wallion said nothing. They could hear steps outside, voices, strange +noises of different kinds. A shout was heard in the distance. Suddenly +a heavy body fell upon the tiled roof, which was splintered by the +blow, something fell with a thud into the hay, and lay hissing close to +them. Wallion sprang up.</p> + +<p>"Fire!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>A violent explosion flung him against the wall, and a tongue of flame +shot up through the hole in the roof. The hay had caught fire, and was +beginning to burn with a dark, smoky blaze, which spread rapidly, +filling the loft with light, and making it intensely hot. In their +first bewilderment, Wallion and Raebel stood irresolute.</p> + +<p>"The swine!" exclaimed the Austrian indignantly. "The treacherous +brutes!"</p> + +<p>He would have tried to drop the ladder again through the trapdoor, +but a bale of burning hay fell into the aperture and blocked it. He +staggered back, shielding his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Shut in!" he said bitterly; "trapped like rats!"</p> + +<p>They retreated before the fire to the other end of the loft, where +there was still one portion which the flames had not reached, since +there was no hay in that half of the building. The journalist looked at +his watch, and the Austrian, irritated at the meaningless precision of +the action, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"That's right, I suppose you are going to make a note of the exact +instant of our death!"</p> + +<p>"It is just ten o'clock," replied Wallion deliberately. Over their +heads, the tiles on the roof were cracking from the heat, with a noise +like the rattle of rifle-practice; the fire was speedily consuming the +woodwork, the roof-joists were burning, and the floor itself began to +give way.</p> + +<p>They heard the terrified horses break loose, and gallop away, neighing +wildly. The two men were now the only living creatures left in the +burning stable.</p> + +<p>Then the journalist went up to the great double trap-doors, which were +only opened to hoist up the bales of hay, and, as though to get air, +he unbarred them and threw them wide open. A loud shout greeted his +appearance, as his tall figure was unexpectedly outlined against the +glare of the fire. He looked down into the darkness, and became aware +of a crowd of upturned faces, and gleaming rifle-barrels.</p> + +<p>"Is Ortiz there?" he called out.</p> + +<p>The adventurer stepped slowly to the front, his hands behind his back +in his favorite attitude.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he asked. "Have you made up your mind to surrender?"</p> + +<p>"No, I only want to remind you that I still have the Tarraschin +memorandum, and it will not be much to your advantage to burn me alive."</p> + +<p>"What do you expect me to do, then? I should be no better off if I shot +you on the spot. The decision lies with you: give me the paper, and you +are free."</p> + +<p>The journalist seemed scarcely to hear him. A look of intense +excitement had come into his eyes, which were fixed on the wooded ridge +near the house, and a sigh of relief burst from him as he saw a white +light flash out once.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear Ortiz, I am not going to give you the document, but, on +the contrary, this!" he cried, and raising his carbine he fired three +successive shots into the darkness. Ortiz sprang back.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>A rocket shot up from the bay, and burst in ten thousand stars. +Frantic whistles were heard from the Copper House, together with an +extraordinary medley of voices, knockings, shots and running feet.</p> + +<p>"Go and see what is happening!" ordered Ortiz.</p> + +<p>"Do not trouble, for I can tell you," said Wallion. "It is what I have +been waiting for the whole of this long evening; it is my lieutenant, +Robert Lang, who has come with the police."</p> + +<p>Ortiz did not stir, but his very soul seemed to look out of his eyes, +as he fixed them on his enemy.</p> + +<p>"Were you clever enough for that after all?" said he. "I could not have +believed it. I admit that I have underrated your powers. I suppose you +think you have trapped me now?"</p> + +<p>"That I cannot say: but I do know one thing, Ortiz: this is the end of +your glorious dream!"</p> + +<p>The adventurer seized a rifle, and fired at the black silhouette of the +man who had outwitted him.</p> + +<p>"You shall not survive it!" he shouted. "Farewell, Wallion!"</p> + +<p>The journalist staggered back, and fell on to the floor. A loud voice +was calling from some way off:</p> + +<p>"The police! Where is the Chief? The police are here!"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</h2> +</div> + +<h3><i>The end of a glorious dream</i></h3> + + +<p>The stampede began. Two minutes after the alarm had been given, +not a man was left near the stable, which was now burning on every +side, casting a vivid radiance over its immediate neighborhood. +It struck them later as extraordinary that the gang had retreated +without a single attempt at resistance. The last shot was that fired +by Ortiz himself, and aimed at his bitterest foe—Maurice Wallion. +From that hour, nobody set eyes upon the reincarnated Napoleon; it +is to be supposed that, like his great prototype after the defeat +at Waterloo, he apathetically allowed himself to be hurried away by +his panic-stricken followers. He was hopelessly beaten, he had lost +everything, and he must have realized this: he chose to vanish into the +night....</p> + +<p>Wallion had not been hit. Together with Raebel he jumped down from the +granary, the floor of which collapsed a minute later.</p> + +<p>"That's what one may call a rescue at the eleventh hour!" exclaimed the +Austrian. "But what puzzles me is how did help come, when we had been +unable to send a word of our plight?"</p> + +<p>"I was prepared for the worst this morning," answered Wallion; "Robert +Lang had orders to come to our relief on the stroke of ten, if he had +heard nothing from me by then. The reason why I was so anxious to send +him a message, is very simple: the submarine, of course, necessitated +special measures, and I am afraid that Lang has omitted to take them."</p> + +<p>This simple explanation made the Austrian open his eyes; he gave a +prolonged whistle of admiration, and said:</p> + +<p>"Wallion, you're an out-and-outer!"</p> + +<p>Policemen, in plain clothes and in uniform, now began to spread round +the Copper House in a wide semi-circle, and they went to meet them. +Robert Lang was at the head, with several police officers of higher +grade.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Lang!" cried Wallion. "You are punctual, thank goodness, but +tell me quickly, how things stand as regards the channel into the bay?"</p> + +<p>The young man stood still.</p> + +<p>"The channel into the bay?" he echoed.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Have you a patrol-boat outside?"</p> + +<p>"No. Is that necessary?"</p> + +<p>Raebel threw up his hands at this question, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Then Ortiz will get away!"</p> + +<p>Wallion briefly explained the situation. The news of the submarine +created a sensation, and one of the policemen hurried off to alarm the +coast guard. After an instant's hesitation, the main body of police +resumed their march to the sea-shore. Not a light was to be seen in +the bay, but suddenly the noise of an engine was heard through the +damp, still atmosphere, and a strange, dark mass became visible in the +channel between the island and the shore. It was the submarine, towing +the lighter after it. The deck of the latter was crowded with men; a +gloomy silence reigned on board, and the ports of the submarine were +closed.</p> + +<p>Lona Ivanovna came running, followed by Sergius, Sonia and Leo. The +last-named wrung the journalist's hand, in silent gratitude, but the +old Russian exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, Mr. Wallion? You're not allowing Ortiz to escape!"</p> + +<p>The journalist replied, thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>"He can't escape from himself."</p> + +<p>She did not understand him.</p> + +<p>"And Tarraschin's memorandum?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk of that by and by. I have it quite safe."</p> + +<p>On board the lighter, the clanking of machinery became audible, and the +tow-line was cast loose. The submarine shot away, and steered for the +open sea, leaving a white trail of foam in its wake. The spectators +began to run along the beach, and came out on the little promontory. +On land, the police had completed their "round-up," which yielded a +harvest of fourteen abandoned, dejected individuals, all captured +unarmed, and asserting their innocence. But it looked as though their +Chief was to get away in spite of everything. Wallion stood on the +furthest point, looking out to sea.</p> + +<p>"Fog!" he remarked, laconically.</p> + +<p>A dense, gray wall was rising out of the Baltic, and driving in towards +the land. The submarine continued to steer east at full speed, leaving +the lighter to shift for itself; both entered the fog-belt, and +disappeared.</p> + +<p>Robert Lang reproached himself bitterly for his remissness, but Wallion +said:</p> + +<p>"You couldn't have known it, and besides, what matter if he slips +through our fingers for the time being? He has nothing left to hope +for...."</p> + +<p>He spoke in a low tone, and without shifting his gaze from the sea. Was +he waiting for something?</p> + +<p>Ten minutes passed. Then the sea of fog was tinged with a sudden +crimson glow, which seemed to come from a point due east of the +outlying islands. A deafening and prolonged explosion rent the air; +then darkness settled down again, and silence reigned once more over +the sea. They looked at one another.</p> + +<p>"A mine-explosion?" suggested someone.</p> + +<p>"The submarine!" cried Robert Lang. "It came from that direction. A +catastrophe must have occurred on board."</p> + +<p>"Or—something else!" said Wallion. "Ortiz went on board as a defeated +man:—and Rastakov's comrades...."</p> + +<p>He bent his head and turned away.</p> + +<p>"It is late. Let us go."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Two days later, quite a little company was assembled in Lawyer +Burchardt's office. There were Leonard Grath, Lona Ivanovna, Sonia and +Sergius. The lawyer trotted up and down his sunny room, and looked +incessantly at the clock. All faces were cheerful and free from +anxiety, but a certain solemnity pervaded the atmosphere, and nobody +seemed inclined to talk. Twelve o'clock struck, and the lawyer stopped +his pacing, and looked expectantly at the door.</p> + +<p>It opened, and admitted Maurice Wallion in travelling costume.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," he said, with a smile. "I have to go abroad this +afternoon, so you must excuse me if I seem a little hurried."</p> + +<p>He shook hands with everybody, and gave Leo a small packet, saying as +he did so:</p> + +<p>"Take back your property; it is an atonement from a man who is +sincerely repentant."</p> + +<p>The young man opened the parcel, and colored with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"The mortgages on the Copper House!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the journalist, smiling. "Take them, you deserve a +reward after all you have gone through, but ask no questions."</p> + +<p>He turned to Lona Ivanovna.</p> + +<p>"I have a message for you. You know that Marcus Tassler quitted the +Copper House when Ortiz threatened your son's life. From that minute, +he became another man, and fled from Ortiz' neighborhood, never to +return. He wishes me to tell you that he regrets the past, and that you +will never see him again."</p> + +<p>The old Russian lady appeared deeply moved.</p> + +<p>"Did you go and look for him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have had a talk with him."</p> + +<p>"And—you let him go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is broken and changed. We must be merciful...."</p> + +<p>The old lady bowed.</p> + +<p>"I thank you," she said simply.</p> + +<p>"I have another very important piece of news for you," Wallion +continued. "Raebel and I, with the help of certain interested persons +in various quarters, have settled the question of Tarraschin's +memorandum, which is now in the hands of its rightful owner. Yes, +Sergius Tassler, you must forgive me, but you know you had really +no right to it at all! You shall not be a loser in the matter. I am +authorized to inform the Bernin family that they are at liberty to +return to Russia."</p> + +<p>He smilingly deprecated their delighted expressions of gratitude, and +continued:</p> + +<p>"This brings the whole matter to a definite conclusion. Gabriel Ortiz' +gigantic 'coup' has failed, and he himself has vanished without leaving +any trace. I suppose you have seen the notices in the newspapers +about the mysterious mine-explosion? That's the end of a many-sided +adventure. By special request from an influential quarter, no official +report will be published. The fourteen men who were arrested will be +deported. Whatever the future holds, my friends, none of you will ever +hear anything more of Gabriel Ortiz."</p> + +<p>He was silent for a little.</p> + +<p>"He was a man, after all!" he added, but he saw that none of them quite +understood him. Sonia had clasped Sergius' hand, and regardless of them +all, was pressing it to her cheek. Wallion bowed gallantly to her.</p> + +<p>"I wish you a happier and brighter future," he said, smiling; "you are +worthy of it!"</p> + +<p>With these words, he left the room, and they looked after him with a +pang of regret in the midst of their happiness, for they felt that they +were losing a friend, and that his path might never again cross their +own.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A letter from Maurice Wallion to the Author, dated Montreal, July 20th, +1918.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"My dear Author,</p> + +<p>"I suppose it must be! Tell what happened at the Copper House in your +own way: of course, there will be more fiction than fact, but that +can't be helped!</p> + +<p>"You can say that I was mistaken as I have never been mistaken before +(except in the case of Madame Lorette Chandeloup, whose story I will +tell you some day). I believed that Gabriel Otiz could be conquered, +and I was wrong. The man died unconquered. I salute his memory: I +could have wished to be his friend.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget to lay stress upon one thing: that two important points +in this mad adventure have never been cleared up. First, what became +of all that was left of Ortiz' millions? They disappeared, as though +by magic, from the banks, between the 10th and 20th of July, 1917. The +Whirlpool engulfed them. I know that Marcus Tassler did not embezzle +them, and it is a mystery to me what became of them.</p> + +<p>"The second point is: is Gabriel Ortiz really dead? What actually +happened that night out in the Baltic? That red glare haunts me!</p> + +<p>"You know that Russia is still suffering. Kerensky's fall soon +succeeded that of Ortiz: neither of them was strong enough to steer +the drifting ship, which still awaits its master-pilot. Bolsheviks, +Czecho-Slovaks, monarchists, and foreign powers are injuring +themselves without gaining one atom of honor or happiness in exchange +for all the blood they are shedding. Is Ortiz still behind the scenes? +Has he risen from his grave to play the 'grand jeu'? I cannot tell. +You may say: after all, he was only a grain of dust in the whirlpool. +Possibly. Has not a grain of dust been able to change the course of +the world before now?</p> + +<p>"It is just a year to-day since I fought him at the Copper House for +Tarraschin's memorandum. Somehow I feel that I shall see him again: I +would stake my life on it!</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, and, perhaps, 'au revoir'!</p> + +<p class="ph2">"In haste, between two adventures,<br> +"Yours very sincerely,<br> +"<span class="smcap">Maurice Wallion</span>."</p> +</div> + + +<p class="ph3">THE END</p> + + +<hr class="tb"> + +<h3><i>NEW FICTION</i></h3> + + +<p class="ph3">ANNETTE ET SYLVIE</p> + +<p class="ph3"><i>by Romain Rolland</i></p> + + +<p class="ph3">JEAN HUGUENOT</p> + +<p class="ph3"><i>by Stephen Vincent Benét</i></p> + + +<p class="ph3">DIFFERENT GODS</p> + +<p class="ph3"><i>by Violet Quirk</i></p> + + +<p class="ph3">QUEST</p> + +<p class="ph3"><i>by Rosita Forbes</i></p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p class="ph3">[Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation left as printed.]</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76903 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76903-h/images/cover.jpg b/76903-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6e4f72 --- /dev/null +++ b/76903-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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