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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/9908-8.txt b/9908-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c14f20e --- /dev/null +++ b/9908-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10775 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The False Faces, by Louis Joseph Vance + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The False Faces + +Author: Louis Joseph Vance + +Posting Date: November 15, 2011 [EBook #9908] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: October 30, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, Tom +Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +THE FALSE FACES + +FURTHER ADVENTURES FROM THE HISTORY OF THE LONE WOLF + +BY LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE + +1918 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I Out of No Man's Land + +II From a British Port + +III In the Barred Zone + +IV In Deep Waters + +V On the Banks + +VI Under Suspicion + +VII In Stateroom 29 + +VIII Off Nantucket + +IX Sub Sea + +X At Base + +XI Under the Rose + +XII Resurrection + +XIII Reincarnation + +XIV Defamation + +XV Recognition + +XVI Au Printemps + +XVII Finesse + +XVIII Danse Macabre + +XIX Force Majeure + +XX Riposte + +XXI Question + +XXII Chicane + +XXIII Amnesty + + + + +I + +OUT OF NO MAN'S LAND + + +On the muddy verge of a shallow little pool the man lay prone and still, as +still as those poor dead whose broken bodies rested all about him, where +they had fallen, months or days, hours or weeks ago, in those grim contests +which the quick were wont insensately to wage for a few charnel yards of +that debatable ground. + +Alone of all that awful company this man lived and, though he ached with +the misery of hunger and cold and rain-drenched garments, was unharmed. + +Ever since nightfall and a brisk skirmish had made practicable an +undetected escape through the German lines, he had been in the open, +alternately creeping toward the British trenches under cover of darkness +and resting in deathlike immobility, as he now rested, while pistol-lights +and star-shells flamed overhead, flooding the night with ghastly glare +and disclosing in pitiless detail that two-hundred-yard ribbon of earth, +littered with indescribable abominations, which set apart the combatants. +When this happened, the living had no other choice than to ape the dead, +lest the least movement, detected by eyes that peered without rest through +loopholes in the sandbag parapets, invite a bullet's blow. + +Now it was midnight, and lights were flaring less frequently, even as +rifle-fire had grown more intermittent ... as if many waters might quench +out hate in the heart of man! + +For it was raining hard--a dogged, dreary downpour drilling through a heavy +atmosphere whose enervation was like the oppression of some malign and +inexorable incubus; its incessant crepitation resembling the mutter of +a weary, sullen drum, dwarfing to insignificance the stuttering of +machine-guns remote in the northward, dominating even a dull thunder of +cannonading somewhere down the far horizon; lowering a vast and shimmering +curtain of slender lances, steel-bright, close-ranked, between the trenches +and over all that weary land. Thus had it rained since noon, and thus--for +want of any hint of slackening--it might rain for another twelve hours, or +eighteen, or twenty-four.... + +The star-rocket, whose rays had transfixed him beside the pool, paled and +winked out in mid-air, and for several minutes unbroken darkness obtained +while, on hands and knees, the man crept on toward that gap in the British +barbed-wire entanglements which he had marked down ere daylight waned, +shaping a tolerably straight course despite frequent detours to avoid the +unspeakable. Only once was his progress interrupted--when straining senses +apprised him that a British patrol was taking advantage of the false truce +to reconnoitre toward the enemy lines, its approach betrayed by a nearing +_squash_ of furtive feet in the boggy earth, the rasp of constrained +respiration, a muttered curse when someone slipped and narrowly escaped a +fall, the edged hiss of an officer's whisper reprimanding the offender. +Incontinently he who crawled dropped flat to the greasy mud and lay +moveless. + +Almost at the same instant, warned by a trail of sparks rising in a long +arc from the German trenches, the soldiers imitated his action, and, as +long as those triple stars shone in the murk, made themselves one with him +and the heedless dead. Two lay so close beside him that the man could have +touched either by moving a hand a mere six inches; he was at pains to do +nothing of the sort; he was sedulous to clench his teeth against their +chattering, even to hold his breath, and regretted that he might not mute +the thumping of his heart. Nor dared he stir until, the lights fading out, +the patrol rose and skulked onward. + +Thereafter his movements were less stealthy; with a detachment of their +own abroad in No Man's Land, the British would refrain from shooting at +shadows. One had now to fear only German bullets in event the patrol were +discovered. + +Rising, the man slipped and stumbled on in semi-crouching posture, ready +to flatten to earth as soon as any one of his many overshoulder glances +detected another sky-spearing flight of sparks. But this necessity he was +spared; no more lights were discharged before he groped through the wires +to the parapet, with almost uncanny good luck, finding the very spot where +the British had come over the top, indicated by protruding uprights of a +rough wooden scaling ladder. + +As he turned, felt with a foot for the uppermost rung, and began to +descend, he was saluted by a voice hoarse with exposure, from the black +bowels of the trench: + +"Blimy! but ye're back in a 'urry! Wot's up? Forget to put perfume on yer +pocket-'andkerchief--or wot?" + +The man's response, if he made any, was lost in a heavy splash as his feet +slipped on the slimy rungs, delivering him precipitately into a knee-deep +stream of foul water which moved sluggishly through the trench like the +current of a half-choked sewer--a circumstance which neither suprised him +nor added to his physical discomfort, who could be no more wet or defiled +than he had been. + +Floundering to a foothold, he cast about vainly for a clue to the other's +whereabouts; for if the night was thick in the open, here in the trench +its density was as that of the pit; the man could distinguish positively +nothing more than a pallid rift where the walls opened overhead. + +"Well, sullen, w'ere's yer manners? Carn't yer answer a civil question?" + +Turning toward the speaker, the man replied in good if rather carefully +enunciated English: + +"I am not of your comrades. I am come from the enemy trenches." + +"The 'ell yer are! 'Ands up!" + +The muzzle of a rifle prodded the man's stomach. Obediently he lifted both +hands above his head. A thought later, he was half blinded by the sudden +spot-light of an electric flash-lamp. + +"Deserter, eh? You kamerad--wot?" + +"Kamerad!" the man echoed with an accent of contempt. "I am no German--I +am French. I have come through the Boche lines to-night with important +information which I desire to communicate forthwith to your commanding +officer." + +"Strike me!" his catechist breathed, skeptical. + +There was a new sound of splashing in the trench. A third voice chimed in: +"'Ello? Wot's all the row abaht?" + +"Step up and tike a look for yerself. 'Ere's a blighter wot sez 'e's com +from the Germ trenches with important information for the O.C." + +"Bloody liar," the newcomer commented dispassionately. "Mind yer eye. +Likely it's just another pl'yful little trick of the giddy Boche. 'Ere +you!" The splashing drew nearer. "Wot's yer gime? Speak up if yer don't +want a bullet through yer in'ards." + +"I play no game," the man said patiently. "I am unarmed--your prisoner, if +you like." + +"I like, all right. Mike yer mind easy abaht that. But wot's all this +'important information'?" + +"I shall divulge that only to the proper authorities. Be good enough to +conduct me to your commanding officer without more delay." + +"Wot do yer mike of 'im, corp'ril?" the first soldier enquired. "'Ow abaht +an inch or two o' the bay'net to loosen 'is tongue?" + +After a moment's hesitation in perplexed silence, the corporal took the +flash-lamp from the private and with its beam raked the prisoner from head +to foot, gaining little enlightenment from this review of a tall, spare +figure clothed in the familiar gray overcoat of the German private--its +face a mere mask of mud through which shone eyes of singular brilliance and +steadiness, the eyes of a man of intelligence, determination, and courage. + +"Keep yer 'ands 'igh," the corporal advised curtly. "Ginger, you search +'im." + +Propping his rifle against the wall of the trench, its butt on the +firing-step just out of water, the private proceeded painstakingly +to examine the person of the prisoner; in course of which process he +unbuttoned and threw open the gray overcoat, exposing a shapeless tunic and +trousers of shoddy drab stuff. + +"'E 'asn't got no arms--'e 'asn't got nothink, not so much as 'is blinkin' +latch-key." + +"Very good. Get back on yer post. I'll tike charge o' this one." + +Grounding his own rifle, the corporal fixed its bayonet, then employed it +in a gesture of unpleasant significance. + +"'Bout fice," he ordered. "March. Yer can drop yer 'ands--but don't go +forgettin' I'm right 'ere be'ind yer." + +In silence the prisoner obeyed, wading down the flooded trench, the +spot-light playing on his back, striking sullen gleams from the inky water +that swirled about his knees, and disclosing glimpses of coated figures +stationed at regular intervals along the firing-step, faces steadfast to +loopholes in the parapet. + +Now and again they passed narrow rifts in the walls of the trench, +entrances to dugouts betrayed by glimmers of candle-light through the +cracks of makeshift doors or the coarse mesh of gunnysack curtains. + +From one of these, at the corporal's summons, a sleepy subaltern stumbled +to attend ungraciously to his subordinate's report, and promptly ordered +the prisoner taken on to the regimental headquarters behind the lines. + +A little farther on captive and captor turned off into a narrow and +tortuous communication trench. Thereafter for upward of ten minutes they +threaded a labyrinth of deep, constricted, reeking ditches, with so little +to differentiate one from another that the prisoner wondered at the sure +sense of direction which enabled the corporal to find his way without +mis-step, with the added handicap of the abysmal darkness. Then, of a +sudden, the sides of the trench shelved sharply downward, and the two +debouched into a broad, open field. Here many men lay sleeping, with only +waterproof sheets for protection from that bitter deluge which whipped the +earth into an ankle-deep lake of slimy ooze and lent keener accent to the +abiding stench of filth and decomposing flesh. A slight hillock stood +between this field and the firing-line--where now lively fusillades +were being exchanged--its profile crowned with a spectral rank of +shell-shattered poplars sharply silhouetted against a sky in which +star-shells and Verey lights flowered like blooms of hell. + +Here the corporal abruptly commanded his prisoner to halt and himself +paused and stood stiffly at attention, saluting a group of three officers +who were approaching with the evident intention of entering the trench. One +of these loosed upon the pair the flash of a pocket lamp. At sight of the +gray overcoat all three stopped short. + +A voice with the intonation of habitual command enquired: "What have we +here?" + +The corporal replied: "A prisoner, sir--sez 'e's French--come across the +open to-night with important information--so 'e sez." + +The spot-light picked out the prisoner's face. The officer addressed him +directly. + +"What is your name, my man?" + +"That," said the prisoner, "is something which--like my intelligence--I +should prefer to communicate privately." + +With a startled gesture the officer took a step forward and peered intently +into that mud-smeared countenance. + +"I seem to know your voice," he said in a speculative tone. + +"You should," the prisoner returned. + +"Gentlemen," said the officer to his companions, "you may continue your +rounds. Corporal, follow me with your prisoner." + +He swung round and slopped off heavily through the mud of the open field. + +Behind them the sound of firing in the forward trenches swelled to an +uproar augmented by the shrewish chattering of machine-guns. Then a battery +hidden somewhere in the blackness in front of them came into action, +barking viciously. Shells whined hungrily overhead. The prisoner glanced +back: the maimed poplars stood out stark against a sky washed with wave +after wave of infernal light.... + +Some time later he was conscious of a cobbled way beneath his sodden +footgear. They were entering the outskirts of a ruined village. On either +hand fragments of walls reared up with sashless windows and gaping doors +like death masks of mad folk stricken in paroxysm. + +Within one doorway a dim light burned; through it the officer made his way, +prisoner and corporal at his heels, passing a sentry, then descending a +flight of crazy wooden steps to a dank and gloomy cellar, stone-walled +and vaulted. In the middle of the cellar stood a broad table at which an +orderly sat writing by the light of two candles stuck in the necks of empty +bottles. At another table, in a corner, a sergeant and an operator of the +Signal Corps were busy with field telephone and telegraph instruments. On a +meagre bed of damp and mouldy straw, against the farther wall, several men, +orderlies and subalterns, rested in stertorous slumbers. Despite the cold +the atmosphere was a reek of tobacco smoke, sweat, and steam from wet +clothing. + +The man at the centre table rose and saluted, offering the commanding +officer a sheaf of scribbled messages and reports. Taking the chair thus +vacated, the officer ran an eye over the papers, issued several orders +inspired by them, then turned attention to the prisoner. + +"You may return to your post, corporal." + +The corporal executed a smart about-face and clumped up the steps. In +answer to the officer's steadfast gaze the prisoner stepped forward and +confronted him across the table. + +"Who are you?" + +"My name," said the prisoner, after looking around to make sure that none +of the other tenants of the cellar was within earshot, "is Lanyard--Michael +Lanyard." + +"The Lone Wolf!" + +Involuntarily the officer jumped up, almost overturning his chair. + +"That same," the prisoner affirmed, adding with a grimace of besmirched and +emaciated features that was meant for a smile--"General Wertheimer." + +"Wertheimer is not my name." + +"I am aware of that. I uttered it merely to confirm my identity to you; it +is the only name I ever knew you by in the old days, when you were in the +British Secret Service and I a famous thief with a price upon my head, when +you and I played hide and seek across half Europe and back again--in the +days of Troyon's and 'the Pack,' the days of De Morbihan and Popinot +and...." + +"Ekstrom," the officer supplied as the prisoner hesitated oddly. + +"And Ekstrom," the other agreed. + +There was a little silence between the two; then the officer mused aloud: +"All dead!" + +"All ... but one." + +The officer looked up sharply. "Which--?" + +"The last-named." + +"Ekstrom? But we saw him die! You yourself fired the shot that--" + +"It was not Ekstrom. Trust that one not to imperil his precious carcase +when he could find an underling to run the risk for him! I tell you I have +seen Ekstrom within this last month, alive and serving the Fatherland as +the genius of that system of espionage which keeps the enemy advised of +your every move, down to the least considerable--that system which makes it +possible for the Boche to greet every regiment by name when it moves up to +serve its time in your advanced trenches." + +"You amaze me!" + +"I shall convince you; I bring intelligence which will enable you to tear +apart this web of treason within your own lines and...." + +Lanyard's voice broke. The officer remarked that he was +trembling--trembling so violently that to support himself he must grip the +edge of the table with both hands. + +"You are wounded?" + +"No--but cold to my very marrow, and faint with hunger. Even the German +soldiers are on starvation rations, now; the civilians are worse off; and +I--I have been over there for years, a spy, a hunted thing, subsisting as +casually as a sparrow!" + +"Sit down. Orderly!" + +And there was no more talk between these two for a time. Not only did the +officer refuse to hear another word before Lanyard had gorged his fill of +food and drink, but an exigent communication from the front, transmitted +through the trench telephone system, diverted his attention temporarily. + +Gnawing ravenously at bread and meat, Lanyard watched curiously the scenes +in the cellar, following, as best he might, the tides of combat; gathering +that German resentment of a British bombing enterprise (doubtless the work +of that same squad which had stolen past him in the gloom of No Man's Land) +had developed into a violent attempt to storm the forward trenches. +In these a desperate struggle was taking place. Reinforcements were +imperatively wanted. + +Activities at the signallers' table became feverish; the commanding officer +stood over it, reading incoming messages as they were jotted down and +taking such action thereupon as his judgment dictated. Orderlies, dragged +half asleep from their nests of straw, were shaken awake and despatched to +rouse and rush to the front the troops Lanyard had seen sleeping in the +open field. Other orderlies limped or reeled down the cellar steps, +delivered their despatches, and, staggered out through a breach in the wall +to have their injuries attended to in the field dressing-station in the +adjoining cellar, or else threw themselves down on the straw to fall +instantly asleep despite the deafening din. + +The Boche artillery, seeking blindly to silence the field batteries whose +fire was galling their offensive, had begun to bombard the village. Shells +fled shrieking overhead, to break in thunderous bellows. Walls toppled +with appalling crashes, now near at hand, now far. The ebb and flow of +rifle-fire at the front contributed a background of sound not unlike the +roaring of an angry surf. Machine-guns gibbered like maniacs. Heavier +artillery was brought into play behind the British lines, apparently at no +great distance from the village; the very flag-stones of the cellar floor +quaked to the concussions of big-calibre guns. + +Through the breach in the wall echoed the screams and groans of wounded. +The foul air became saturated with a sickening stench of iodoform. Gusts of +wet wind eddied hither and yon. Candles flickered and flared, guttered out, +were renewed. Monstrous shadows stole out from black corners, crept along +mouldy walls, crouched, sprang and vanished, or, inscrutably baffled, +retreated sullenly to their lairs.... + +For the better part of an hour the struggle continued; then its vigour +began to wane. The heaviest British metal went out of action; some time +later the field batteries discontinued their activities. The volume of +firing in the advance trenches dwindled, was fiercely renewed some half a +dozen times, died away to normal. Once more the Boche had been beaten back. + +Returning to his chair, the commanding officer rested his elbows upon the +table and bowed his head between his hands in an attitude of profound +fatigue. He seemed to remind himself of Lanyard's presence only at 'cost of +a racking effort, lifting heavy-lidded eyes to stare almost incredulously +at his face. + +"I presumed you were in America," he said in dulled accents. + +"I was ... for a time." + +"You came back to serve France?" + +Lanyard shook his head. "I returned to Europe after a year, the spring +before the war." + +"Why?" + +"I was hunted out of New York. The Boche would not let me be." + +The officer looked startled. "The Boche?" + +"More precisely, Herr Ekstrom--to name him as we knew him. But this I did +not suspect for a long time, that it was he who was responsible for my +persecution. I knew only that the police of America, informed of my +identity with the Lone Wolf, sought to deport me, that every avenue to +an honourable livelihood was closed. So I had to leave, to try to lose +myself." + +"Your wife ... I mean to say, you married, didn't you?" + +Lanyard nodded. "Lucy stuck by me till ... the end.... She had a little +money of her own. It financed our flight from the States. We made a +round-about journey of it, to elude surveillance--and, I think, succeeded." + +"You returned to Paris?" + +"No: France, like England, was barred to the Lone Wolf.... We settled down +in Belgium, Lucy and I and our boy. He was three months old. We found a +quiet little home in Louvain--" + +The officer interrupted with a low cry of apprehension, Lanyard checked him +with a sombre gesture. "Let me tell you.... + +"We might have been happy. None knew us. We were sufficient unto ourselves. +But I was without occupation; it occurred to me that my memoirs might +make good reading--for Paris; my friends the French are as fond of their +criminals as you English of your actors. On the second of August I +journeyed to Paris to negotiate with a publisher. While I was away the +Boche invaded Belgium. Before I could get back Louvain had been occupied, +sacked...." + +He sat for a time in brooding silence; the officer made no attempt to +rouse him, but the gaze he bent upon the man's lowered head was grave and +pitiful. Abruptly, in a level and toneless voice, Lanyard resumed: + +"In order to regain my home I had to go round by way of England and +Holland. I crossed the Dutch frontier disguised as a Belgian peasant. When +I reentered Louvain it was to find ... But all the world knows what the +blond beast did in Louvain. My wife and little son had vanished utterly. I +searched three months before I found trace of either. Then ... Lucy died in +my arms in a wretched hovel near Aerschot. She had seen our child butchered +before her eyes. She herself...." + +Lanyard's hand, that rested on the table, clenched and whitened beneath its +begrimed skin. His eyes fathomed distances immeasurably removed beyond the +confines of that grim cellar. But he presently continued: + +"Ekstrom had accompanied the army of invasion, had seen and recognized Lucy +in passing through Louvain. Therefore she and my son were among the first +to be sacrificed.... When I stood over her grave I dedicated my life to the +extermination of Ekstrom and all his breed. I have since done things I do +not like to think about. But the Prussian spy system is the weaker for my +work.... + +"But Ekstrom I could never find. It was as if he knew I hunted him. He was +seldom twenty-four hours ahead of me, yet I never caught up with him but +once; and then he was too closely guarded.... I pursued him to Berlin, +to Potsdam, three times to the western front, to Serbia, once to +Constantinople, twice to Petrograd." + +The officer uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Lanyard looked his way +with a depreciatory air. + +"Nothing strange about that. To one of my early training that was +easy--everything was easy but the end I sought.... En passant I collected +information concerning the workings of the Prussian spy system. From time +to time I found means to communicate somewhat of this to the Surété in +Paris. I believe France and England have already profited a little through +my efforts. They shall profit more, and quickly, when I have told all that +I have to tell.... + +"Of a sudden Ekstrom vanished. Overnight he disappeared from Germany. A +false lead brought me back to this front. Two days ago I learned he had +been sent to America on a secret mission. Knowing that the States have +severed diplomatic relations with Berlin and tremble on the verge of a +declaration of war, we can surmise something of the nature of his mission. +I mean to see that he fails.... To follow him to America, making my way +out through Belgium and Holland, pursuing such furtive ways as I must in +territory dominated by the Boche, meant much time lost. So I came through +the lines to-night. Fortune was kind in throwing me into your hands: I +count upon your assistance. As an ex-agent of the Secret Service you are in +a position to make smooth my path; as an Englishman, you will advance the +interests of a prospective ally of England if you help me to the limit of +your ability; for what I mean to do in America will serve that country, by +exposing the conspiracies of the Boche across the water, as much as it will +serve my private ends." + +The officer's hand fell across the table and closed upon the knotted fist +of the Lone Wolf. + +"As an Englishman," he said simply--"of course. But no less as your +friend." + + + + +II + +FROM A BRITISH PORT + + +"And one man in his time plays many parts": few more than this same +Lanyard. In no way to be identified with the hunted creature who crept into +the British lines out of No Man's Land was the Monsieur Duchemin who, ten +days after that wintry midnight, took passage for New York from "a British +port," aboard the steamship _Assyrian_. + +André Duchemin was the name inscribed in the credentials furnished him in +recognition of signal assistance rendered the British Secret Service in its +task of scotching the Prussian spy system. And the personality he chose +to assume suited well the name. A man of modest and amiable deportment, +viewing the world with eyes intelligent and curious, his temper reacting +from its ways in terms of grave humour, Monsieur Duchemin passed peaceably +on his lawful occasions, took life as he found it, made the best of irksome +circumstances. + +This last idiosyncrasy stood him in good stead. For the _Assyrian_ failed +to clear upon her proposed sailing date and for a livelong week thereafter +chafed alongside her landing stage, steam up, cargo laden and stowed, +nothing lacking but the Admiralty's permission to begin her westbound +voyage--a permission inscrutably withheld, giving rise to a common +discontent which the passengers dissembled to the various best of their +abilities, that is to say, in most cases thinly or not at all. + +Yet they were none of them unreasonable beings. They had come aboard one +and all keyed up to a high nervous pitch, pardonable in such as must commit +their lives to the dread adventure of the barred zone, wanting nothing +so much as to get it over with, whatever its upshot. And everlasting +procrastination required them day after day to steel their hearts anew +against that Terror which followed its furtive ways beneath the leaden +waters of the Channel! + +Alone among them this Monsieur Duchemin paraded successfully a false face +of resignation, protesting no predilection whatsoever for a watery grave, +no infatuate haste to challenge the Hun upon his chosen hunting-ground. In +the fullness of time it would be permitted to him to go down to the sea in +this ship. Meanwhile he found it apparently pleasant and restful to explore +the winding cobbled ways of that antiquated waterside community, made over +by the hand of War into a bustling seaport, or to tramp the sunken lanes +that seamed those green old Cornish hills which embosomed the wide harbour +waters, or to lounge about the broad white decks of the _Assyrian_ watching +the diurnal traffic of the haven--a restless, warlike pageant. + +Daily, in earliest dusk of dawn, the wakeful might watch the faring forth +of a weirdly assorted fleet of small craft, the day patrol, to relieve a +night patrol as weirdly heterogeneous. Daily, at all hours, mine-sweepers +came and went, by twos and twos, in flocks, in schools; and daily bellowing +offshore detonations advertised their success in garnering those horned +black seeds of death which the Hun and his kin were sedulous to sow in the +fairways. While daily battleships both great and small rolled in wearily to +refit and dress their wounds, or took swift departure on grim and secret +errands. + +There was, moreover, the not-infrequent spectacle of some minor ship of +war--a truculent, gray destroyer as like as not--shepherding in a sleek +submarine, like a felon whale armoured and strangely caparisoned in +gray-brown steel, to be moored in chains with a considerable company of its +fellows on the far side of the roadstead, while its crew was taken ashore +and consigned to some dark limbo of oblivion. + +And once, with a light cruiser snapping at her heels, a drab Norwegian +tramp plodded sullenly into port, a mine-layer caught red-handed, plying +its assassin's trade beneath a neutral flag. + +Not long after its crew had been landed, volleys of musketry crashed in the +town gaol-yard. + +One of a group of three idling on the promenade deck of the _Assyrian_, +Lanyard turned sharply and stared through narrowed eyelids into the quarter +whence the sounds reverberated. + +The man at his side, a loose-jointed American of the commercial caste, +paused momentarily in his task of masticating a fat dark cigar. + +"This way out," he commented thoughtfully. + +Lanyard nodded; but the third, a plumply ingratiative native of Geneva, +known to the ship as Emil Dressier, frowned in puzzlement. + +"Pardon, Monsieur Crane, but what is that you say--'this way out'?" + +"Simply," Crane explained, "I take the firing to mean the execution of our +nootral friends from Norway." + +The Swiss shuddered. "It is most terrible!" + +"Well, I don't know about that. They done their damnedest to fix it for us +to drown somewhere out there in the nice, cold English Channel. I'm just as +satisfied it's them, instead, with their backs to a stone wall in the +warm sunlight, getting their needin's. That's only justice. Eh, Monsieur +Duchemin?" + +"It is war," said Lanyard with a shrug. + +"And war is ... No: Sherman was all wrong. Hell's got perfectly good +grounds for a libel suit against William Tecumseh for what he up and said +about it and war, all in the same breath." + +Lanyard smiled faintly, but Dressler pondered this obscure reference with +patent distress. Crane champed his cigar reflectively. + +"What's more to our purpose," he said presently: "I shouldn't be surprised +if this meant the wind-up of our rest-cure here. That's the third +mine-layer they've collected this week--two subs, and now this benevolent +nootral. Am I right, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Who knows?" Lanyard replied with a smile. "Even now the mine-sweeping +flotilla is coming home, as you see; which means, the neighbouring waters +have been cleared. It is altogether a possibility that we may be permitted +to depart this night." + +Even so the event: as that day's sun declined amid a portentous welter of +crimson and purple and gold, the moorings were cast off and the _Assyrian_ +warped out into mid-channel and anchored there for the night. + +Inasmuch as she was to sail as the tide served, some time before sunrise, +the passengers were advised to seek their berths at an early hour. Thirty +minutes before the steamship entered the danger zone (as she would soon +after leaving the harbour) they would be roused and were expected promptly +to assemble on deck, with life-preservers, and station themselves near the +boats to which they were individually assigned. + +For their further comforting they were treated, in the ebb of the chill +blue twilight, to boat-drill and final instructions in the right adjustment +of life-belts. + +A preoccupied company assembled in the dining saloon for what might be +its last meal. In the shadow of the general apprehension, conversation +languished; expressions of relief on the part of those who had been loudest +in complaining at the delays were notably unheard; even Crane, Lanyard's +nearest neighbour at table, was abnormally subdued. Reviewing that array of +sobered and anxious faces, Lanyard remarked--not for the first time, but +with renewed gratitude--that in all the roster of passengers none were +children and but two were women: the American widow of an English officer +and her very English daughter, an angular and superior spinster. + +Avoiding the customary post-prandial symposium in the smoking room, Lanyard +slipped away with his cigar for a lonely turn on deck. + +Beneath a sky heavily canopied, the night was stark black and loud with +clashing waters. A fitful wind played in gusts now grim, now groping, like +a lost thing blundering blindly about in that deep darkness. Ashore a +few wan lights, widely spaced, winked uncertainly, withdrawn in vast +remoteness; those near at hand, of the anchored shipping, skipped and +swayed and flickered in mad mazes of goblin dance. To him who paced those +vacant, darkened decks, the sense of dissociation from all the common, +kindly phenomena of civilization was something intimate and inescapable. +Melancholy as well rode upon that black-winged wind. + +At pause beneath the bridge, the adventurer rested elbows upon the teakwood +rail and with importunate eyes searched the masked face of his destiny. +There was great fear in his heart, not of death, but lest death overtake +him before that scarlet hour when he should encounter the man whom he must +always think of as "Ekstrom." + +After that, nothing would matter: let Death come then as swiftly as it +willed.... + +He was not even middle-aged, on the hither side of thirty; yet his attitude +was that of one who had already crossed the great divide of the average +mortal span: he looked backward upon a life, never forward to one. To him +his history seemed a thing written, lacking the one word Finis: he had +lived and loved and lost--had arrayed himself insolently against God and +Man, had been lifted toward the light a little way by a woman's love, had +been thrust relentlessly back into the black pit of his damnation. He made +no pretense that it was otherwise with him: remained now merely the thing +he had been in the beginning, minus that divine spark which love had once +kindled into consuming aspiration toward the right; the Lone Wolf prowled +again to-day and would henceforth forevermore, the beast of prey callous +to every human emotion, animated by one deadly purpose, existing but to +destroy and be in turn destroyed.... + +Two decks below, about amidships, a cargo port was thrust open to the +night. A thick, broad beam of light leaped out, buffeting the murk, +striking evanescent glimmers from the rocking facets of the waters. +Deckhands busied themselves rigging out an accommodation ladder. A tender +of little tonnage panted nervously up out of nowhere and was made fast +alongside. The light raked its upper deck, picking out in passing a group +of men in uniforms. Fugitively something resembling a petticoat snapped +in the wind. Then several persons moved toward the accommodation ladder, +climbed it, disappeared through the cargo port. The wearer of the petticoat +did not accompany them. + +Lanyard noted these matters subconsciously, for the time altogether +preoccupied, casting forward his thoughts along those dim trails his feet +must tread who followed his dark star.... + +Ten minutes later a deck-steward found him, and paused, touching his cap. + +"Beg pardon, sir, but all passingers is requested to report immedately in +the music room." + +Indifferently Lanyard thanked the man and went below, to find the music +room tenanted by a full muster of his fellow passengers, all more or less +indignantly waiting to be cross-examined by the party of port officials +from the tender--the ship's purser standing by together with the second and +third officers and a number of stewards. + +Resentment was not unwarranted: already, before being suffered to take up +quarters on board the _Assyrian_, each passenger had submitted to a most +comprehensive survey of his credentials, his mental, moral, and social +status, his past record, present affairs, and future purposes. A formality +to be expected by all such as travel in war time, it had been rigid but +mild in contrast with this eleventh-hour inquisition--a proceeding so +drastic and exhaustive that the only plausible inference was official +determination to find excuse for ordering somebody ashore in irons. Nothing +was overlooked: once passports and other proofs of identity had been +scrutinized, each passenger was conducted to his stateroom and his person +and luggage subjected to painstaking search. None escaped; on the other +hand, not one was found guilty of flagitious peculiarity. In the upshot the +inquisitors, baffled and betraying every symptom of disappointment, were +fain to give over and return to their tender. + +By this time Lanyard, one of the last to be grilled and passed, found +himself as little inclined for sleep as the most timorous soul on board. +Selecting an American novel from the ship's library, he repaired to +the smoking room, where, established in a corner apart, he became an +involuntary and, at first, a largely inattentive, eavesdropper upon an +animated debate involving some eight or ten gentlemen at a table in the +middle of the saloon--its subject, the recent visitation. + +Measures so extraordinary were generally held to indicate an incentive more +extraordinary still. + +"You can't get away from it," he heard Crane declare: "there's some sort of +funny business going on, or liable to go on, aboard this ship. She wasn't +held up for a solid week out of pure cussedness. Neither did they come +aboard to-night to give us another once-over through sheer voluptuousness. +There's a reason." + +"And what," a satiric English voice enquired, "do you assume that reason to +be?" + +"Search me. 'Sfar's I'm concerned the processes of the British Intelligence +Office are a long sight past finding out." + +"It is simple enough," one of Crane's compatriots suggested: "the +_Assyrian_ is suspected of entertaining a devil unawares." + +"Monsieur means--?" the Swiss enquired. + +"I mean, the authorities may have been led to believe some one of us a +questionable character." + +"German spy?" + +"Possibly." + +"Or an English traitor?" + +"Impossible," asserted another Briton heavily. "There is to-day no such +thing in England. Two years ago the supposition might have been plausible. +But that breed has long since been stamped out--in England." + +"Another guess," Crane cut in: "they've taken considerable trouble to clear +the track for us. Maybe it occurred to somebody at the last moment to make +sure none of us was likely to pull off an inside job." + +"'Inside job?'" Dressler pleaded. + +"Planting bombs in the coal bunkers--things like that--anything to crab our +getting through the barred zone in spite of mines and U-boats." + +"Any such attempt would mean almost certain death!" + +"What of it? It's been tried before--and got away with. You've got to hand +it to Fritz, he'll risk hell-for-breakfast cheerful any time he gets it in +his bean he's serving Gott und Vaterland." + +"Granted," said the Englishman. "But I fancy such an one would find it far +from easy to secure passage upon this or any other vessel." + +"How so? You may have haltered all your traitors, but there's still +a-plenty German spies living in England. Even you admit that. And if they +can get by your Secret Service, to say nothing of Scotland Yard, what's to +prevent their fixing to leave the country?" + +"Nothing, certainly. But I still contend it is hardly likely." + +"Of course it's hardly likely. Look at these guys to-night--dead set on +making an awful example of anybody that couldn't come clean. I didn't +notice them missing any bets. They combed me to the Queen's taste; for +a while I was sure scared they'd extract my pivot tooth to see if there +wasn't something incriminating and degrading secreted inside it. And nobody +got off any easier. _I_ say the good ship _Assyrian_ has a pretty clean +bill of health to go sailing with." + +"On the other hand"--yet another American voice was speaking--"no spy or +criminal worth his salt would try to ship without preparations thorough +enough to insure success, barring accidents." + +"Criminal?" drawled the Briton incredulously. + +"The enterprisin' burglar keeps a-burglin', even in war time. There have +been notable burglaries in London of late, according to your newspapers." + +"And you think the thief would attempt to smuggle his loot out of the +country aboard such a ship as this?" + +"Why not?" + +"Scotland Yard to the contrary notwithstanding?" + +"If Scotland Yard is as efficient as you think, sir, certainly any sane +thief would make every effort to leave a country it was making too hot for +him." + +"Considerable criminal!" Crane jeered. + +"Undeceive yourself, seńor." This was a Brazilian, a quiet little dark body +who commonly contented himself with a listening rôle in the smoking-room +discussions. "There are truly criminals of intelligence. And war conditions +are driving them out of Europe." + +Of a sudden Lanyard--stretched out at length upon the leather cushions, +in full view of these gossips--became aware that he was being closely +scrutinised. By whom, with what reason or purpose, he could not surmise; +and it were unwise to look up from that printed page. But that sixth sense +of his--intuition, what you will--that exquisitively sensitive sentinel +admonished that at least one person in the room was watching him narrowly. + +Though he made no move other than to turn a page, his glance followed +blindly blurring lines of text, and his quickened wits overlooked no shade +of meaning or intonation as that talk continued. + +"A criminal of intelligence," some one observed, "is a giddy paradox whose +fatuous existence is quite fittingly confined to the realm of fable." + +"You took the identical words right out of my mouth," Crane complained +bitterly. + +"Your pardon, seńores: history confutes your incredulity." + +"But we are talking about to-day." + +"Even to-day--can you deny it?--men attain high places by means which the +law would construe as criminal, were they not intelligent enough to outwit +it." + +"Big game," Crane objected; "something else again. What we contend is no +man of ordinary common sense could get his own consent to crack a safe, or +pick a pocket, or do second-story work, or pull any rough stuff like that." + +"Again you overlook living facts," persisted the Brazilian. + +"Name one--just one." + +"The Lone Wolf, then." + +"Unnatural history is out of my line," Crane objected. "Why is a lone wolf, +anyway?" + +The Brazilian's voice took on an accent of exasperation. "Seńores, I do not +jest. I am a student of psychology, more especially of criminal psychology. +I lived long in Paris before this war, and took deep interest in the case +of the Lone Wolf." + +"Well, you've got me all excited. Go on with your story." + +"With much pleasure.... This gentleman, then, this Michael Lanyard, as he +called himself, was a distinguished Parisian figure, a man of extraordinary +attainment, esteemed the foremost connoisseur d'art in all Europe. +Suddenly, at the zenith of his career, he disappeared. Subsequently it +became known that he had been identical with that great Parisian criminal, +the Lone Wolf, a superman of thieves who had plundered all Europe with +unvarying success for almost a decade." + +"Then what made the silly ass quit?" + +"According to my information, he won the love of a young woman--" + +"And reformed for her sake, of course?" + +"To the contrary, seńor; Lanyard renounced his double life because of a +theory on which he had founded his astonishing success. According to this +theory, any man of intelligence may defy society as long as he will, always +providing he has no friend, lover, or confederate in whom to confide. A man +self-contained can never be betrayed; the stupid police seldom apprehend +even the most stupid criminal, save through the treachery of some intimate. +This Lanyard proved his theory by confounding not only the utmost +efforts of the police but even the jealous enmity of that association of +Continental criminals known as the Bande Noire--until he became a lover. +Then he proved his intelligence: in one stroke he flouted the police, +delivered into their hands the inner circle of the Bande Noire, and +vanished with the woman he loved." + +"And then--?" + +"The rest," said the Brazilian, "is silence." + +"It is for to-night, anyway," Crane observed, yawning. "It's bedtime. Here +comes the busy steward to put the lights and us out." + +There was a general stir; men drained glasses, knocked out pipes, got up, +murmured good-nights. Lanyard closed the American novel upon a forefinger, +looked up abstractedly, rose, moved toward the door. The utmost effort of +exceptional powers of covert observation assured him that, at the moment, +none of the company favoured him with especial attention; the author of +that interest whose intensity had so weighed upon his consciousness had +been swift to dissemble. + +On his way forward he exchanged bows and smiles with Crane and one or two +others, his gesture completely casual. Yet when he entered the starboard +alleyway he carried with him a complete catalogue of those who had +contributed to the conversation. With all, thanks to seven days' +association, he stood on terms of shipboard acquaintance. Not one, in his +esteem, was more potentially mischievous than any other--not even the +Brazilian Velasco, though he had been the first to name the Lone Wolf. + +It was, furthermore, quite possible that the mention of his erstwhile +sobriquet had been utterly fortuitous. + +And yet, one might not forget that sensation of being under intent +surveillance.... + +In his stateroom Lanyard stood for several minutes gravely peering into the +mirror above the washstand. + +The face he scanned was lean and worn in feature, darkly weathered, framed +in hair whose jet already boasted an accent of silver at either temple--the +face of a man inured to hardship, seasoned in suffering, strong in +self-knowledge. The incandescence of an intelligence coldly dispassionate, +quick and shrewd, lighted those dark eyes. Distinctively a face of Gallic +cast, three years of long-drawn torment had served in part to erase from +it wellnigh all resemblance to both the brilliant social freebooter of +ante-bellum Paris and that undesirable alien whom the authorities had +sought to deport from the States. Amazing facility in impersonation had +done the rest; unrecognisable as what he had been, he was to-day flawlessly +the incarnation of what he elected to seem--Monsieur Duchemin, gentleman, +of Paris. + +Impossible to believe his disguise had been so soon penetrated.... + +And yet, again, that gossip of the smoking room.... + +Police work? Or had Ekstrom's creatures picked up his trail once more? + +Beneath that urbane mask of his, a hunted, wild thing poised in question, +mistrustful of the very wind, prick-eared, fangs agleam, eyes grimly +apprehensive.... + +A little sound, the least of metallic clicks, breaking the hush of his +solitude, froze the adventurer to attention. Only his glance swerved +swiftly to a fastened door in the forward partition--his stateroom being +the aftermost of three that might be thrown together to form a suite. The +nickeled knob was being tried with infinite precaution. On the half turn it +checked with a faint repetition of the click. Then the door itself quivered +almost imperceptibly to pressure, though it yielded not a fraction of an +inch. + +Lanyard's eyes hardened. He did not stir from where he stood, but one hand +whipped an automatic from his pocket while the other darted out to the +switch-box by the head of his berth and extinguished the light. + +Instantly a glimmer of light in the forward stateroom showed through +a narrow strip of iron grill-work set in the top of the partition for +ventilating purposes. + +Simultaneously the door-knob was gently released, and with another louder +click the light in the adjoining cubicle was blotted out. + +Mystified, Lanyard undressed and turned in, but not to sleep--not for a +little, at least. + +Who might this neighbour be who tried his door so stealthily? Before +to-night that room had had no tenant. Apparently one of the passengers had +seen fit to shift his quarters. To what end? To keep a jealous eye on +the Lone Wolf, perhaps? So much the better, then: Lanyard need only make +enquiry in the morning to identify his enemy. + +Deliberately closing his eyes, he dismissed the enigma. He possessed in +marked degree that attribute of genius, ability to command slumber at will. +Swiftly the troubled deeps of thought grew calm; on their placid surface +inconsequent visions were mirrored darkly, fugitive scenes from the store +of subconscious memory: Crane's lantern-jawed physiognomy, keen eyes +semi-veiled by humorously drooping lids, the extreme corner of his mouth +bulging round his everlasting cigar ... grimy lions in Trafalgar Square of +a rainy afternoon ... the octagonal room of L'Abbaye Thęléme at three in +the morning, a swirl of Bacchanalian shapes ... Wertheimer's soldierly +figure beside the telegraphers' table in that noisome cave at the Front ... +the deck of a tender in darkness swept by a shaft of yellow light which +momentarily revealed a group of folk with upturned faces, a petticoat +fluttering in its midst.... + + + + +III + +IN THE BARRED ZONE + + +Day broke with rather more than half a gale blowing beneath a louring sky. +Once clear of the bottleneck mouth of the harbour, the _Assyrian_ ran into +brutal quartering seas. An old hand at such work, for upward of a decade +a steady-paced Dobbin of the transatlantic lanes, she buckled down to it +doggedly and, remembering her duty by her passengers, rolled no more than +she had to, buried her nose in the foaming green only when she must. For +all her care, the main deck forward was alternately raked by stinging +volleys of spray and scoured by frantic cascades. More than once the crew +of the bow gun narrowly escaped being carried overboard to a man. Blue with +cold, soaked to the buff despite oilskins, they stuck stubbornly to their +posts. Perched beyond reach of shattering wavecrests, the passengers on the +boat-deck huddled unhappily in the lee of the superstructure--and snarled +in response to the cheering information that better conditions for baffling +the ubiquitous U-boat could hardly have been brewed by an indulgent +Providence. Sheeting spindrift contributed to lower visibility: two +destroyers standing on parallel courses about a mile distant to port and +to starboard were more often than not barely discernible, spectral vessels +reeling and dipping in the haze. The ceaseless whistle of wind in the +rigging was punctuated by long-drawn howls which must have filled any +conscientious banshee with corrosive envy. + +Toward mid-morning rain fell in torrents, driving even the most fearful +passengers to shelter within the superstructure. A majority crowded the +landing at the head of the main companionway close by the leeward door. +Bolder spirits marched off to the smoking room--Crane starting this +movement with the declaration that, for his part, he would as lief drown +like a rat in a trap as battling to keep up in the frigid inferno of those +raging seas. A handful of miserables, too seasick to care whether the ship +swam or sank, mutinously took to their berths. + +Stateroom 27--adjoining Lanyard's--sported obstinately a shut door. +Lanyard, sedulous not to discover his interest by questioning the stewards, +caught never a glimpse of its occupant. For his own satisfaction he took a +covert census of passengers on deck as the vessel entered the danger zone, +and made the tally seventy-one all told--the number on the passenger list +when the _Assyrian_ had left her landing stage the previous evening. + +It seemed probable, therefore, that the person in 27 had come aboard from +the tender, either with or following the official party. Lanyard was +unable to say that more had not left the tender than appeared to sit in +inquisition in the music room. + +By noon the wind was beginning to moderate, and the sea was being beaten +down by that relentlessly lashing rain. Visibility, however, was more low +than ever. A fairly representative number descended to the dining saloon +for luncheon--a meal which none finished. Midway in its course a thunderous +explosion to starboard drove all in panic once more to the decks. + +Within two hundred yards of the _Assyrian_ a floating mine had destroyed a +patrol boat. No more was left of it than an oil-filmed welter of splintered +wreckage: of its crew, never a trace. + +Imperturbably the _Assyrian_ proceeded. Not so her passengers: now the +smoking room was deserted even by the insouciant Crane, and the seasick to +a woman brought their troubles back to the boat-deck. + +Alone the tenant of 27 stopped below. And the riddle of this ostensible +indifference to terrors that clawed at the vitals of every other soul on +board grew to intrigue Lanyard to the point of obsession. Was the reason +brute apathy or sheer foolhardihood? He refused either explanation, +feeling sure some darker and more momentous motive dictated this obstinate +avoidance of the public eye. Exasperation aroused by failure to fathom the +mystery took precedence in his thoughts even to the personal solicitude +excited by last night's gossip of the smoking room.... + +With no other disturbing incident the afternoon wore away, the wind +steadily flagging, the waves as steadily subsiding. When twilight closed in +there was nothing more disturbing to one's equilibrium than a sea of long +and sullen rolls scored by the pelting downpour. + +Perhaps as many as ten venturesome souls dined in the saloon, their fellows +sticking desperately to the decks and contenting themselves with coffee and +sandwiches. + +Daylight waned, terrors waxed: passengers instinctively gravitated into +little knots and clusters, conversing guardedly as if fearful lest their +normal accents bring down upon them those Apaches of the underseas for +signs of whom their frightened glances incessantly ranged over-rail and +searched the heaving wastes. + +The understanding was tacit that all would spend the night on deck. + +Dusk at length blotted out the shadows of their guardian destroyers, and a +great and desolating loneliness settled down upon the ship. One by one +the passengers grew dumb; still they clung together, but seemingly their +tongues would no more function. + +With nightfall, the rain ceased, the breeze freshened a trifle, the pall of +cloud lifted and broke, giving glimpses of remote, impersonal stars. Later +a gibbous moon leered through the flying wrack, checkering the sea with +a restless pattern of black and silver. In this ghastly setting the +_Assyrian_, showing no lights, a shape of flying darkness pursuing a course +secret to all save her navigators, strained ever onward, panting, groaning, +quivering from stem to stern ... like an enchanted thing doomed to +perpetual labours, striving vainly to break bonds invisible that transfixed +her to one spot forever-more, in the midst of that bleak purgatory of +shadow and moonshine and dread.... + +Sensitive to the eerie influence of the hour, Lanyard interrupted the tour +of the decks which he had steadily pursued for the better part of the +evening, and rested at the forward rail, looking down over the main deck, +its bleached planking dotted with dark shapes of fixed machinery. In the +bows the formless, uncouth bulk of the gun squatted in its tarpaulin. Its +crew tramped heavily to and fro, shivering in heavy jackets, hands in +pockets, shoulders hunched up to ears. Farther aft an iron door clanged +heavily behind a sailor emerging from an alleyway; he approached the ship's +bell, with practised hand sounded two double strokes, then turned and sang +out in the weird minor traditional in his calling: + +"_Four bells--and a-a-all's well_!" + +Even as the wind made free with the melancholy echoes of that assurance, +the spell upon the ship was exorcised. + +Overhead, from the foremast crow's-nest, a voice screamed, hoarsely urgent: + +"_Torpedo! 'Ware submarine to port_!" + +Many things happened simultaneously, or in a span of seconds strangely +scant. The gunners sprang to station, whipping away the tarpaulin, while +their lieutenant focussed binoculars upon the confused distances of the +night. Obedient to his instructions, the long, gleaming tube of steel +pivoted smoothly to port. + +From the bridge a signal rocket soared, hissing. The whistle loosed +stentorian squalls of indignation and distress--one long and four short. +Commands were shouted; the engine-room telegraph wrangled madly. The +momentum of the _Assyrian_ was checked startlingly; her bows sheered +smartly off to port. + +A rumour of frightened voices and pounding feet came from the leeward +boat-deck, where the main body of the passengers was congregated, hidden +from Lanyard by the shoulder of the foreward deck-house. A number of men +ran forward, paused by the rail, stared, and scurried back, yelling in +alarm. At this the din swelled to uproar. + +Scanning closely the surface of the sea, Lanyard himself descried a silvery +arrow of spray lancing the swells, making with deadly speed toward the port +bow of the _Assyrian_. But now both screws were churning full speed astern; +the vessel lost headway altogether. Then her engines stopped. For a +breathless instant she rested inert, like something paralyzed with fright, +bows-on to the torpedo, the telegraph ringing frantically. Then the +starboard screw began to turn full ahead, the port remaining idle. The +bows swung off still more sharply to port. The torpedo shot in under them, +vanished for a breathless moment, reappeared a boat's-length to starboard, +plunged harmlessly on its unhindered way down the side of the vessel, and +disappeared astern. + +Amidships terrified passengers milled like sheep, hampering the work of the +boat-crews at the davits. Ship's officers raged among them, endeavouring +to restore order. Half a mile or so dead ahead a tiny tongue of flame spat +viciously in the murk. A projectile shrieked overhead, and dropped into the +sea astern. Another followed and fell short. + +The U-boat was shelling the _Assyrian_. + +The forward gun barked violent expostulation, if without visible effect; +the submarine lobbing two more shells at the steamship with an indifference +to its own peril astonishing in one of its craven breed, trained to strike +and run before counterstroke may be delivered. Its extraordinary temerity, +indeed, argued ignorance of the convoying destroyers. + +Coincident with the second shot, however, these unleashed searchlights +slashed the dark through and through with their great, white, fanlike +blades, till first one then the other picked up and steadied relentlessly +upon a toy-boat shape that swam the swells about midway between the +_Assyrian_ and the destroyer off the port bows. + +Simultaneously the quickfirers of the latter went into action, jetting +orange flame. In the searchlights' glare, spurts of white water danced all +round the submarine. A mutter of gunfire rolled over to the _Assyrian_, +abruptly silenced by an imperative deep voice of heavier metal--which spoke +but once. + +With the lurid unreality of clap-trap theatrical illusion the U-boat +vomited a great, spreading sheet of flame.... + +Someone at the rail, near Lanyard's shoulder, uttered a hushed cry of +horror. + +He paid no heed, his interest wholly focussed upon that distant patch of +shining water. As his dazzled vision cleared he saw that the submarine had +disappeared. + +Unconsciously, in French, he commented: "So that is finished!" + +Likewise in French, but in a woman's voice of uncommon quality, deep +and bell-sweet, came the protest from the passenger at his side: "But, +monsieur, what are we doing? We turn away from them--those poor things +drowning there!" + +That was quite true: under forced draught the _Assyrian_ was heading away +on a new course. + +"They drown out there in that black water--and we leave them to that!" + +Lanyard turned. "The destroyers will take care of them," he said--"if any +survived that explosion with strength enough to swim." + +He spoke from the surface of his thoughts and with a calm that veiled +profound surprise. The woman by his side was neither the American widow nor +her English daughter, but wholly a stranger to the ship's company he knew. + +The training of the Lone Wolf had been wasted if one swift glance had +failed to comprehend every essential detail: that tall, straight, slender +figure cloaked in the folds of a garment whose hood framed a face of +singular pallor and sweetness in the moonlight, its shadowed eyes wide with +emotion, its lips a little parted.... + +With a shiver she lifted her hands to her eyes as if to darken the visions +of her imagination. + +"They die out there," she said, in murmurs barely audible.... "We turn our +backs on them.... You think that right?" + +"We play the game by the rules the enemy himself laid down," Lanyard +returned. "They would have sunk us without one qualm of pity--would, in all +probability, have shelled our boats had any succeeded in getting off. They +have done as much before, and will again. It is out of reason to insist +that the captain risk his ship in the hope of picking up one or two +drowning assassins." + +"Risk his ship? How? They are helpless--" + +"As a rule, U-boats hunt in pairs; always, when specially charged to sink +one certain vessel. It was so with the _Lusitania_, with the _Arabic_ as +well; I don't doubt it was so in this instance--that we should have heard +from a second submarine had not the destroyers opened fire when they did." + +The woman stared. "You think that--?" + +"That the Boche had specific instructions to waylay and sink the +_Assyrian_? I begin to think that--yes." + +This declaration affected the woman curiously; she shrank away a little, as +from a blow, her eyes winced, her pale lips quivered. When she spoke, it +was, strangely enough, in English so naturally enunciated that Lanyard +could not doubt that this was her mother tongue. + +"Then you think it is because...." + +Of a sudden she wilted, clinging to the rail and trembling wildly. + +Lanyard shot a glance aft. The disorder among the passengers was measurably +less, though excitement still ran so high that he felt sure they were as +yet unnoticed. On impulse he stepped nearer. + +"Pardon, mademoiselle," he said quietly; "you are excusably unstrung. +But all danger is past; and there is still time to regain your stateroom +unobserved. If you will permit me to escort you...." + +He watched her narrowly, but she showed no surprise at this suggestion of +intimacy with her affairs. After a brief moment she pulled herself together +and dropped a hand upon the arm he offered. In another minute he was +helping her over the raised watersill of the door. + +Like all the ship the landing and main companionway were dark; but below, +on the promenade deck, the second doorway aft on the starboard side stood +ajar, affording a glimpse of a dimly lighted stateroom. + +With neither hesitation nor surprise--for he was already satisfied in this +matter--Lanyard conducted the woman to this door and stopped. + +Her hand fell from his arm. She faltered on the threshold of Stateroom 27, +eyeing him dubiously. + +"Thank you, monsieur...?" + +There was just enough accent of enquiry to warrant his giving her the name: +"Duchemin, mademoiselle." + +"Monsieur Duchemin.... Please to tell me how you knew this was my +stateroom?" + +"I occupy Stateroom 29. There was no one in 27 till after the tender came +out last night. Furthermore, your face was strange, and I have come to know +all others on board during our week's delay in port." + +The light was at her back; he could distinguish little of her shadowed +features, but fancied her a bit discountenanced. + +In a subdued voice she said, "Thank you," once more, a hand resting +significantly on the door-knob. But still he lingered. + +"If mademoiselle would be so good as to tell me something in return--?" + +"If I can...." + +"Then why, mademoiselle, did you try my door last night?" + +"It was neither locked nor bolted on my side. I wished to make sure--" + +"So one fancied. Thank you. Good-night, mademoiselle...?" + +She was impervious to his hint. "Good-night, Monsieur Duchemin," she said, +and closed the door. + +Now Lanyard's quarters opened not on this alleyway fore-and-aft but on a +short and narrow athwartship passage. And as he turned away he saw out of +the corner of an eye a white-jacketed figure emerge from this passageway +and move hurriedly aft. Something furtive in the round of the fellow's +shoulders challenged his curiosity. He called quietly: + +"Steward!" + +There was no answer. By now the white jacket was no more than a blur moving +in that deep gloom. He cried again, more loudly: + +"I say, steward!" + +He could hardly see, but fancied that the man quickened his steps: in +another instant he vanished altogether. + +Smothering an impulse to give chase, the adventurer swung alertly into the +narrow passage and opened the door to Stateroom 29. The room was dark, but +as he fumbled for the switch, the door in the forward partition was thrust +open and the girl's slight figure showed, tensely poised against the light +behind her. + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" she cried, in a voice sharp with doubt. + +Lanyard turned the switch. "Mademoiselle," he said, and coolly crossed to +the port, drawing the light-proof curtains. + +"This door was locked all day--locked when the firing alarmed me and I went +out to the deck." + +"And on my side, mademoiselle, it was locked and bolted when last I was +here, shortly before dinner." "Whoever unfastened it entered my room during +my absence and tampered with my luggage." + +"You have missed something?" + +Gaze intent to his she nodded. He shrugged and cast shrewdly round his +quarters for some clue to the enigma. His glance fastened on a leather +bellows-bag beneath the berth. Dropping to his knees he pulled this out, +and looked up with a quizzical grimace, his forefinger indicating the lock, +which was uncaught. + +"I left this latched but not locked," he said. "Perhaps I, too, have lost +something." + +Opening the bag out flat, he sat back on his heels, with practised eye +inspecting its neat arrangement of intimate things. + +"Nothing has been taken, mademoiselle," he announced gravely. "But +something--I think--has been generously added. I seem to have an anonymous +admirer on board." + +Bending forward, he rummaged beneath a sheaf of shirts and brought forth +a small jewel-box of grained leather, with a monogram stamped on the +lid--"C.B." + +"The lock is broken," he observed, and handed it up to the woman. "As to +its contents, mademoiselle herself knows best...." + +The woman opened the box. + +"Nothing is missing," she said in a thoughtful voice. + +"I am relieved." Lanyard closed the bag, thrust it back beneath the berth, +and got upon his feet. "But you are quite sure--?" + +"My jewels are all in order," she affirmed, without meeting his gaze. + +"And you miss nothing else?" + +"Nothing." + +Was there an accent of hesitation in this response? + +"Then, I take it, the thief was disappointed." + +Now she glanced quickly at his eyes. "Why do you say that?" + +"If the thief had found what he sought, he would never have presented it +to me, mademoiselle would never again have seen her jewels. Failing in +his object, after breaking that lock, and interrupted by your unexpected +return, he planted the case with me, hoping to have me suspected. I am +fortunately able to prove the best of alibis.... So then," said Lanyard, +smiling, "it would appear that, though we met ten minutes ago for the first +time--and I have yet to know mademoiselle by name--we are allies in a +common cause." + +"My name is Brooke--Cecelia Brooke," she said quietly--"if it matters. But +why 'allies'?" + +"It appears we own a common enemy. Each of us possesses something which +that one desires--you a secret, I a good name. (Duchemin, indeed, I have +always held to be an excellent name.) I shall not hesitate to call on you +if my treasure is again violated. May I venture to hope mademoiselle will +prove as ready to command my services?" + +"Thank you. I fancy, however, there will be no need." + +She moved irresolutely toward the communicating door, paused in its frame, +eyeing him speculatively from under level brows. He detected, or imagined, +a tremor of impulse toward him, as though she faltered on the verge of some +grave confidence. If so, she curbed her tongue in time. Her gaze dropped, +fixed itself abstractedly on the door.... "This must be fastened," she +said, in a tone of complete disinterest. + +"I will speak to the chief steward immediately." + +"Don't trouble." She roused. "It doesn't matter, really, for to-night. I +shall leave what valuables I have in the purser's care and stop on deck +till daybreak." + +He gave a gesture of bewilderment. "You abandon your seclusion--leave your +secret unguarded?" + +"Why not?" She shrugged slightly with a little _moue_ of discontent. "If, +as you assume, I had a secret, it was that for certain reasons I did not +wish my presence on board to become known. But it seems it has become +known: my secret is no more. So I need no longer risk being cut off from +the boats in the event of any accident." + +Momentarily her gravity was dissipated by a smile at once delightful and +provocative. + +"Once more, monsieur--good-night!" + +After some moments Lanyard, with a start, found himself staring blankly at +a blankly incommunicative communicating door. + + + + +IV + +IN DEEP WATERS + + +Following this abrupt introduction to his interesting neighbour, Lanyard +went back to his deck-chair and, bundling himself up against the cold, +settled down to ponder the affair and await developments in a spirit of +chastened resignation. That a dénouement would duly unfold he was quite +satisfied; that he himself must willy-nilly play some part therein he was +too well persuaded. + +Not that he wished to meddle. If this Miss Cecelia Brooke (as she named +herself) fostered any sort of intrigue, he wanted nothing so fervently +as to be left altogether out of it. But already he had been dragged in, +without wish or consent of his; whoever coveted her secret--whatever that +was, more precious to her than jewels--harboured designs upon his own as +well. It was his duty henceforth to go warily, overlooking no circumstance, +however trifling and inconsiderable it might appear. The slenderest thread +may lead to the heart of the most intricate maze--and the heart of this was +become Lanyard's immediate goal, for there his enemy lay perdu. + +It was never this man's fault to underrate an enemy, least of all +an unknown; and he entertained wholesome respect for Secret Service +operators--picked men, as a rule, the meanest no mean antagonist. And this +business, he fancied, had all the flavour of Secret Service work--one +of those blind duels, desperate and grim affairs of masked combatants +feinting, thrusting, guarding in the dark, each with the other's sword ever +feeling for his throat, fighting for life itself and making his own rules +as the contest swayed. + +But what was this Brooke girl doing in that galley? What conceivable motive +induced her to dabble those slender hands in the muck and blood of Secret +Service work? + +Lanyard was fain to let that question rest. After all, it was no concern of +his. There she was, up to her pretty eyebrows in some dark, bad business; +and it was not for him to play the gratuitous ass, rush in unasked, and +seek to extricate her.... + +Through endless hours he sat brooding, vision blindly focussed upon the +misty, shimmering mystery of that night. + +Ekstrom!... Slowly in his understanding intuition shaped the conviction +that it was Ekstrom whom he was fighting now, Ekstrom in the guise of one +of his creatures, some agent of the Prussian spy system who had contrived +to smuggle himself aboard this British steamship. + +Out of those nine in the smoking room the previous night, then, he must +beware of one primarily, perhaps of more. + +Four he was disposed, with reservations, to reckon negligible: Baron von +Harden, head of a Netherlands banking house, a silent body whose acute +mental processes went on behind a pallid screen of flabby features; Julius +Becker, a theatrical manager of New York, whose right name ended in ski; +Bartlett Putnam, late chargé d'affaires of the American embassy in Madrid; +Edmund O'Reilly, naturalized citizen of the United States, interested in +the manufacture of motor tractors somewhere in Michigan. + +Of the other five, two were English: Lieutenant Thackeray, a civilly +reticent gentleman whose right arm rested in a black silk sling, making +a flying trip to visit a married sister in New York; Archer Bartholomew, +Esq., solicitor, a red-cheeked, bright-eyed, white-haired, brisk little +Cockney, beyond the military age. + +There remained Dressier, the stout, self-satisfied Swiss, whose fawning +manner was possibly accounted for by his statement that he journeyed to +New York to engage in the trade of restaurateur in partnership with his +brother; Crane, long and awkward and homely, of saturnine cast, slow of +gesture and negligent as to dress, his humorous sense clouding a power +of shrewd intelligence; and Seńor Arturo Velasco, of Buenos Aires, +middle-aged, apparently extremely well-to-do, a thoughtful type, more +self-contained than most of his countrymen. + +One of these probably ... But which?... + +Nor must he permit himself to forget that the _Assyrian_ carried fifty-nine +other male passengers, in addition to her complement of officers, crew, and +stewards, that any one of these might prove to be Potsdam's cat's-paw. + +Awesome pallor tinged the eastern horizon, gaining strength, spread in +imperceptible yet rapid gradations toward the zenith. Stars faded, winked +out, vanished. Silver and purple in the sea gave place to livid gray. +Almost visibly the routed night rolled back over the western rim of the +world. Shafts of supernal radiance lanced the formless void between sky +and sea. Swollen and angry, the sun lifted up its enormous, ensanguined +portent. And the discountenanced moon withdrew hastily into the +immeasurable fastnessness of a cloudless firmament, yet failed therein to +find complete concealment. Keen, sweet airs of dawn raked the decks, now +to port, now to starboard, as the _Assyrian_ twisted and writhed on her +corkscrew way. + +Passengers whose fears had become sufficiently numb to permit them to +drowse, stirred in their chairs, roused blinking and blear-eyed, arose +and stretched cramped, cold bodies. Others lay listless, enervated by the +sleepless misery of that night. Crane found Lanyard awake and marched him +off for coffee and cigarettes in the smoking room. + +Later, starting out for a turn around the decks, they passed a deck-chair +sheltered in a jog where the engine-room ventilating shaft joined the +forward deck-house, in which Miss Brooke lay cocooned in wraps and furs, +her profile, turned aside from the sea, exquisitely etched against the rich +blackness of a fox stole. She slept as quietly as the most carefree, a +shadowy smile touching her lips. + +Crane's stride faltered. He whistled low. + +"In the name of all things wonderful! how did that get on board?" + +Lanyard mentioned the girl's name. "She has the stateroom next to +mine--came off that tender, night before last." + +"And me sore on that darn' li'l boat because it brought aboard all the +nosey Johnnies! Ain't it the truth, you never know your luck?" + +The American ruminated in silence till another lap of their walk took them +past the girl again. + +"Funny," he mused, "if that's why they held us up...." + +"Comment, monsieur?" + +"Oh, I was just wondering if it was on that young lady's account they kept +us kicking our heels back there so long." + +"I am still stupid," Lanyard confessed. + +"Why, she might be a special messenger, you know--something like that--the +British Government wanted to smuggle out of the country without anybody +suspecting." + +"Monsieur is a romantic." + +"You can't trust me," Crane averred unblushingly. + +When they passed the chair again it was empty. + +At breakfast Lanyard saw the girl from a distance: their places were +separated by the width of the saloon. She had no neighbours at her table, +did not look up when Lanyard entered, finished her meal some time before +he did, and retired immediately to her stateroom, in whose seclusion she +remained for the rest of the day. + +That second day was altogether innocent of untoward incident. At least +superficially the life of the ship settled into the groove of "business +as usual." Only the company of the _Assyrian's_ faithful convoys was an +ever-present reminder of peril. + +And in the middle of the afternoon she passed close by a derelict, a +torpedoed tramp, deep down by the stern, her bows helplessly high in air +and crimson with rust, the melancholy haunt of a great multitude of gulls. + +More than slightly to Lanyard's surprise he received no quiet invitation +to the captain's quarters to be interrogated concerning the burglary in +Stateroom 27. Apparently, the young woman had contented herself with +reporting merely that the communicating door had carelessly been left +unfastened. + +For his own part, neither seeking nor avoiding individual members of the +smoking-room group, Lanyard permitted himself to be drawn into their +company, and sat among them amiably receptive. But this profited him +scantily; there was no further talk of the Lone Wolf; he was not again +aware of that covert surveillance. + +But when--the evening chill driving him below to don a fur-lined +topcoat--the Brooke girl, coming up the companionway, acknowledged his look +of recognition with the most distant of nods, he accepted the apparent +rebuff without resentment. He understood. She was playing the game. The +enemy was watching, listening. After that he was studious to refrain from +seeming either to avoid or to seek her neighbourhood; and if he did keep a +sharp eye on her, it was so circumspectly as to mock detection. To the +best of his observation she found no friends on board, contracted no new +acquaintances, kept herself to herself within walls of inexorable reserve. + +Dawn, ending the second night at sea, found the _Assyrian_ pursuing a +course still devious, and now alone; the destroyers had turned back during +the night. The western boundary of the barred zone lay astern. Ahead, at +the end of a brief interval of time, the ivory towers of New York loomed, +a-shimmer with endless sunlight, glorious in golden promise. Accordingly, +the spirits of the passengers were exalted. The very ship seemed to grin in +self-complacence; she had won safely through. + +Unremitting vigilance was none the less maintained. No hour of the +twenty-four found either gun, forward or aft, wanting a full working crew +on the keen qui vive. The life boats remained on outswung davits; boat +drills for passengers as well as crew were features of the daily programme. +Regulations concerning light and smoking on deck after dark were rigidly +enforced. Fuel was never spared in the effort to widen the blue gulf +between the steamship and those waters wherein she had so nearly met her +end. By day a hunted thing, racing frantically toward a port of refuge in +the West, all her stout fabric labouring with titanic pulsations, shying in +panic from the faintest suspicion of smoke upon the horizon, the _Assyrian_ +slipped into the grateful obscurity of night like a snake into a thicket, +made herself akin to its densest shadows, strained hopelessly not to be +outdistanced by its fugitive mantle. + +And the benison of unseasonably clement weather was hers; day after shining +day, night after placid night, the Atlantic revealed a singularly gracious +humour, mirrored the changeful panorama of the heavens in a surface little +flawed. So that the most squeamish voyagers, as well as those most beset +with fears, slept sweetly in the comfort of their berths. + +Lanyard, however, never went to bed without first securing his door so that +it might be opened by force alone; and never slept without a pistol beneath +his pillow. + +But the truth is, he slept little. For the first time in his history he +learned what it meant to will sleep to come and have his will defied. He +lay for hours staring wide-eyed into darkness, hearkening to the steady +throbbing of the engines, unable to dismiss the thought that their every +revolution brought him so much nearer to America, so much the nearer to +his hour with Ekstrom. In vain he sought to fatigue his senses by +over-indulgence in his weakness for gambling. Day-long sessions at poker +and auction in the smoking room--where he found formidable antagonists, +principally in the persons of Crane, Bartlett Putnam, Velasco, Bartholomew, +Julius Becker and Baron von Harden--served only to forward his financial +fortunes; his luck was phenomenal; he multiplied many times that slender +store of English banknotes with which he had embarked upon this adventure. +But he left each exhausting sitting only to toss upon a wakeful pillow or +to roam uneasily the dark and desolate decks, a man haunted by ghosts of +his own raising, hagridden by passions of his own nurturing.... + +About two o'clock on the third night (the first outside the danger zone, +when every other passenger might reasonably be expected to be in his berth) +Lanyard lay in a deck-chair deep in shadows, wondering if it was worthwhile +to go below and woo sleep in his stateroom. By way of experiment he shut +his eyes. When after a moment he opened them again he was no longer alone. + +Some distance away, at the rail, the woman of Stateroom 27 was standing +with her back to Lanyard, looking intently forward, unquestionably ignorant +of his presence. + +Without moving, he watched in listless incuriosity till he saw her +straighten and stand away from the rail as if bracing herself against some +crisis. + +A man was coming aft from the entrance to the main companionway, impatience +in his stride--a tall man, of good carriage, muffled almost to the heels in +a heavy ulster, a steamer-cap well forward over his eyes. But the light was +poor, the pale shine of the aged moon blending trickily with the swaying +shadows; Lanyard was unable to place him among the passengers. There was +a suggestion of Lieutenant Thackeray--but that one was handicapped by one +shell-shattered arm, whereas this man had the use of both. + +He demonstrated that promptly, taking the girl into them. She yielded +herself gladly, with a hushed little cry, hiding her face in the bosom of +his ulster, clinging to him. + +This, then, was an assignation prearranged! Miss Cecelia Brooke had a lover +aboard the _Assyrian_, a lover whom she denied by day but met in stealth by +night! + +And yet, after that first, swift embrace, their conduct became oddly +unloverlike. The man released her of his own initiative, held her by the +shoulders at arm's length. There was irritation in his manner. He seemed +tempted to shake the young woman. + +"Celia! what madness!" + +So much, at least, Lanyard overheard; the rest was a mumble into the hand +which the girl placed over the man's lips. She cried breathlessly: "Hush! +not so loud!" + +And then she remembered to guard her own voice. In an undertone she spoke +passionately for a moment. The man interrupted in a tone of profound +vexation. She drew away, as if hurt, caught him up as he hesitated for a +word, returned, clung to the lapels of his coat, her accents rapid and +pitiful, eloquent of explanation, entreaty, determination. The man lifted +his hands to her wrists, broke her grasp, cut her brusquely short, put her +forcibly from him. She sobbed softly.... + +Thus swiftly the scene suffered disillusioning transition. The pretty +fiction of lovers meeting in secret was no more. Remained a man annoyed to +the verge of anger, a woman desperately importunate. + +The wind, sweeping aft, carried broken snatches of their communications: + +"... _all I have ... could not let you go_...." + +"_Insanity_!" + +"_I was desperate_...." + +"... _drive me mad with your nonsense_...." + +Lanyard sat up, scraping his chair harshly on the deck. Stricken mute, +the pair at the rail moved only to turn his way the pallid ovals of their +faces. + +Heedless of the prohibition, he struck a vesta, cupped its flame in his +hands, bending his face close and deliberately lighting a cigarette. +Appreciably longer than necessary he permitted the flare to reveal his +features. Then he blew it out, rose, sauntered to the rail, cast the +cigarette into the sea, went aft and so below, satisfied that the girl must +have recognised him and so knew that her secret was safe. + +But it was in an oddly disgruntled humour that he turned in--he who had +been so ready to twit Crane with his fantastic speculations concerning +the English girl, who had himself been the readiest to endue her with the +romantic attributes becoming a heroine of her country's Secret Service! +What if he must now esteem her in the merciless light of to-night's +exposure, as the most pitiable of all human spectacles, a poor lovesick +thing sans dignity, sans pride, sans heed for the world's respect, a woman +pursuing a man weary of her? + +He resented unreasonably the unreasonable resentment which the affair +inspired in him. + +What was it to him? He who had struck off all fettering bonds of common +human interests, who had renounced all common human emotions, who had set +his hand against all mankind that stood between him and that vengeful +purpose to which he had dedicated his life! He, the Lone Wolf, the +heartless, soulless, pitiless beast of prey! + +God in Heaven! what was any woman to him? + + + + +V + +ON THE BANKS + + +Unaccountably enough in his esteem, and more and more to Lanyard's +exasperation, the evil flavour of that overnight incident lasted; it +tinctured distastefully his first waking thoughts; and through all that +fourth day at sea his mood was dark with irrational depression. + +And the fifth day and the sixth were like unto the fourth. + +Constantly he caught himself on watch for the young woman, wondering how +she would comport herself toward him, unwilling witness though he had been +to that shabby scene. + +But, save distantly at meal times, he saw nothing of her. + +And though he knew that she was much on deck after midnight, he was +studious to keep out of her way. The tedium of stopping in a stuffy +stateroom, when the spell of restlessness was on him, waiting for the +sounds of his neighbour's return before he might venture forth, was +nothing; anything were preferable to figuring as the innocent bystander at +another encounter between the Brooke girl and her reluctant lover.... + +Then that happened which lent the business another complexion altogether. +Its second phase, of close development, drew toward an end. Subtle +underlying forces began to stir in their portentous latency. + +The rapiers which thus far had merely touched, shivering lightly against +each other, measuring each its opponent's strength, feeling out his skill, +fell apart, then re-engaged in sharp and deadly play. Steel met steel and, +clashing, struck off sparks whose fugitive glimmerings lightened measurably +the murk.... + +On the sixth night out, at eleven o'clock as a matter of routine, the +smoking room was closed for the night, terminating an uncommonly protracted +and, in Lanyard's esteem, irksome sitting at cards. Well tired, he went +immediately to his quarters, undressed, stretched out in his berth, and +switched off the light. + +Incontinently he found himself bedevilled by thoughts that would not rest. + +For upward of an hour he lay moveless, seeking oblivion in that very effort +to preserve immobility, while the _Assyrian_, lunging heavily on her way, +moaned and muttered tedious accompaniment to the chant of the working +engines. + +Despairing at length, and fretted by the closeness of his quarters, he got +up, dressed sketchily, and was shrugging into his fur-lined coat when he +heard the door to the adjoining stateroom open and close, stealth in the +sound of it. + +At that he hung up his overcoat, and threw himself down with a book on the +lounge seat beneath the port. The novel was dull enough in all conscience; +for that matter no tale within the compass of the cunningest weaver of +words could have enthralled his temper at that time. + +He read and read again page after page, but without intelligence. + +Between his eyes and the type-blackened paper mirages of the past trembled +and wavered; old faces, old scenes, old illusions took unsubstantial form, +dissolved, blended, faded away: a saddening show of shadows. + +His heavy eyelids drooped; slumber's drowsy vestments trailed lazily +athwart the sea of consciousness.... + +A slight noise startled him, either the shutting of the door to Stateroom +27, or the sound of the book dropping from his relaxed grasp. He sat up and +consulted his watch. The hour was half after twelve. + +The ship's bell sounded remotely a single, doleful stroke. + +He might have dozed five minutes or fifteen--long enough at least to leave +its tantalising effect of sleep desperately desirable, mockingly elusive, +almost grasped, whisked beyond grasping. And with this he was aware of +something even less tangible, a sense of something amiss, of something +vaguely wrong, as of an evil spirit stalking furtively through the darkened +labyrinth of the ship ... as impalpable and ineluctable as miasmic +exhalations of a morass.... + +Lanyard passed a hand across his forehead. Had he been dreaming, then? Was +this merely the reaction from some bitter nightmare? He could not remember. + +On sheer impulse he stood up, extinguished the light, opened the door. As +he did this he noted that a light burned in Stateroom 27, visible through +the ventilating grille. So the girl must have returned while he slept. Or +had she neglected to turn the switch when she went out? He could not be +certain. + +On the threshold he paused a little, attentive to the familiar rumour of +the ship by night: the prolonged sloughing of riven waters down the side, +gnashing of swells hurled back by the bows, sibilance of draughts in +alleyways, groaning of frames, a thin metallic rattle of indeterminate +origin, the crunching grind of the steering gear, the everlasting +deep-throated diapason of the engines, somewhere aft in that tier of +staterooms a persistent human snore ... nothing unusual, no alarming +discordance.... + +Yet the feeling that mischief was afoot would not be still. + +Lanyard moved down to the junction of the thwartship passage with the +fore-and-aft alleyway. + +Here he commanded a view of the promenade-deck landing and the main +companionway, all in darkness but for a feeble glimmer of reflected +starlight through the open deck port on the far side of the vessel. Beyond +this the rail was stencilled against the dull face of the sea with its far +lifting and falling horizon; within, no more was visible than the dimmed +whiteness of the forward partition, the dense, indefinite mass of balusters +winding up to the boat-deck, and the flat plane of the tiled landing. + +On this last, near the mouth of the port alleyway, half obscured by the +intervening balusters, something moved, something huge, black, and formless +swayed and writhed strangely, and in the strangest silence, like a dumb, +tormented misshapen brute transfixed to one spot from which its most +anguished efforts might not avail to budge it. + +Lanyard ran forward, rounded the well of the companionway, and pulled up. + +Now the nature of the thing was revealed. Blackly silhouetted against the +square of the doorway two human figures were close-locked and struggling +desperately, straining, resisting, thrusting, giving, recovering ... and +all with never a sound more than the deadened thump of a shifting foot or +the rasp of hard-won breathing. + +For several seconds the spectator could not distinguish one contestant from +the other. Then a change in the fortunes of war enabled him to make out +that one was a woman, the other, and momentarily more successful, a man. +Slender and youthful and strong, she fought with the indomitable fury of +a pantheress. He on his part had won this much temporary advantage--had +broken the woman's clutch upon his throat and was bending her back over +his hip, one hand fumbling at her windpipe, the other imprisoning her two +wrists. + +Yet she was far from being vanquished. Even as Lanyard moved toward the +pair, she drove a savage knee into the man's middle and, as he checked +instantaneously with a grunt of pained surprise, regained her footing and +planted both elbows against his chest, striving frantically to free her +hands. + +Simultaneously Lanyard took the fellow from behind, wound an arm around his +neck, jerked his head sharply back, twisted his forearm till he released +the woman's wrists, and threw him with a force that must have jarred his +every bone. + +The woman staggered back against the partition, panting and sobbing beneath +her breath. The man rebounded from his fall with astonishing agility, and +flew back at Lanyard. An object in his right hand gave off the dull gleam +of polished steel. + +Lanyard, his automatic in his stateroom, in the pocket of the overcoat +where he had deposited it when meaning to go out on deck, lacked any means +of defense other than his two hands; but his one-time fame as an amateur +pugilist had been second only to his fame as a connaisseur d'art; and to +one whose youth had been passed in association with the Apaches of Paris, +some mastery of la savate was an inevitable accomplishment. + +A lightning coup de pied planted a heel against one of the man's shins, +and his onslaught faltered in a gust of curses. Then the point of his jaw +received the full force of Lanyard's right fist with all the ill will +imaginable behind it. The man reared back, reeled into the black mouth of +the alleyway, fell heavily. + +Even so, he demonstrated extraordinary vitality and appetite for +punishment. He had no more gone down than the adventurer, peering into the +gloom, saw him struggle up on his knees. Instantly Lanyard made toward +him, intent on finishing this work so well begun, but in his second stride +tripped over a heavy body hidden in the shadows, and pitched headlong. +Falling, he was conscious of a flashing thing that sped past his cheek, +immediately above his shoulder. There followed an echoing thud against the +forward partition. + +Picking himself up smartly, Lanyard crept several paces down the alleyway, +flattening against the wall, straining his vision, listening intently, +rewarded by neither sign nor sound of his antagonist. + +That one must have been swift to advantage himself of Lanyard's tumble. +If he had not vanished into thin air, or gone to earth in some untenanted +stateroom thereabouts, he found in the close blackness of that narrow +passage a cloak of positive invisibility to cover his escape. + +And there is little wisdom in stalking an armed man whom one cannot see, +with what little light there is at one's own back. + +So Lanyard went back to the landing, stepping carefully over the obstacle +which had both thrown him and saved his life--the supine body of a third +man, motionless; whether dead or merely insensible, he did not stop to +investigate. His immediate concern was for the woman. + +As he came upon her now, she stood en profile to the partition, tugging +strongly at something embedded in the woodwork close by her side, between +her waist and armpit. At the sound of his approach she looked up with a +tremor of apprehension quickly calmed. + +"Monsieur Duchemin! If you please--" + +Lanyard, in no way surprised to recognise the voice of Miss Cecelia Brooke, +stepped closer. "What is it?" he enquired; and then, bending over to look, +found that her cloak was pinned to the partition by the blade of a heavy +knife buried a full half of its considerable length. + +"He threw it as you fell," the girl explained. "I was in the direct line." + +"Permit me, mademoiselle...." + +He laid hold of the haft of the weapon and with some difficulty withdrew +it. + +"Who was it?" he asked, weighing the knife in his palm and examining it as +closely as he could without the aid of light. + +There was no reply. Directly her cloak was freed, the girl had moved +hastily away to the body over which Lanyard had stumbled. He heard an +imploring whisper--"Please!"--and looked up to see her on her knees. + +"Who, then, is this?" he demanded, joining her. + +"Lionel--Lieutenant Thackeray. Please--O please!--tell me he is not dead." + +Her voice broke; he saw her slender body convulsed with racking emotions. +Kneeling, Lanyard made a hasty and superficial examination, necessarily no +more under the conditions. + +"His heart beats," he announced--"he breathes. I do not think him seriously +injured." He made as if to get up. "I will get a light--a flash-lamp from +my stateroom--or, better still, the ship's surgeon--" + +Her hand fell upon his arm. "Please, no! Not that--not now. Later, if +necessary; but now--surely, you can help me carry him to his stateroom." + +"You know the number?" + +"It's close by--30." + +"Find it, and light up. No--leave this to me; I can carry him without +assistance." + +The girl rose and disappeared. Lanyard passed his arms beneath the +Englishman's body, gathered him into them, and struggled to his feet: no +inconsiderable task. + +Light gushed from an open doorway, the third aft from the landing. +Staggering, the adventurer entered and deposited the body upon the berth. +Immediately the girl closed and bolted the door, then passed between him +and the berth to bend over the unconscious man. He lay in deep coma, limbs +a-sprawl, unpleasant glints of white between his half-closed eyelids, his +breathing stertorous through parted lips. Free of its sling, his wounded +arm dangled over the edge of the berth. In putting him down, Lanyard had +remarked that its sleeve had been slit to the shoulder, and that its +bandages were undone. Now, in amazement, he saw the arm was firm and +muscular, with an unbroken skin, never a sign of any injury in all its +length. + +Gently the girl lifted the lieutenant's head to the light, discovering a +hideously bruised swelling at the base of the skull, blood darkly matting +the close-clipped hair. + +She requested without looking round: "Water, please--and a towel." + +Obediently Lanyard ran hot and cold water into the hand-basin in equal +proportions. + +"Would it not be well now to call the ship's surgeon?" he suggested +diffidently. + +"Is that necessary? I am something of a nurse. This is simply a bad +contusion--no worse, I believe. He was struck down from behind, a cowardly +blow in the dark, as he started to go up on deck. I had been waiting for +him. When he didn't come I suspected something was wrong. I came down, +found him lying there, that brute kneeling over him." + +She spoke coolly enough, in contrast with the high excitement that inflamed +her eyes as she turned away from the berth. + +"Monsieur Duchemin, are you armed?" + +"I have this," he said, exhibiting the knife thrown by the would-be +murderer--a simple trench dagger, without distinguishing marks of any sort. + +"Then take this, please." Extracting an automatic pistol from a holster +belted beneath Thackeray's coat, she proffered it. "You won't mind staying +here a moment, standing guard, while I fetch a dressing from my room?" + +Before he could utter a word of protest she had slipped out into the +alleyway, shutting the door behind her. + +When several minutes had passed the adventurer found himself beset by +increasing concern. This long delay seemed not only inconsistent with her +solicitude, but indicated a possibility that the girl had braved unwisely +the chance of a resumption of hostilities on the part of her late and as +yet anonymous assailant. + +Darkening the room as a matter of common-sense precaution, Lanyard, pistol +in hand, stepped out into the alleyway in time to see the girl in the act +of rising from her knees on the landing, near the spot where Thackeray had +fallen. The light of her flash-lamp was blotted out as she came hurriedly +aft. + +Perplexed, he turned back and switched on the light as she entered. + +Her eyes challenged his almost defiantly. + +"Was I long?" she asked, breathless. "I dropped something...." + +Lanyard bowed without speaking. Instinctively he knew that she was lying; +and divining this in his attitude, she coloured and, disconcerted, turned +away. For a moment, while she busied herself arranging on a convenient +chair an assortment of first-aid accessories, he fancied that her +half-averted face wore a look of sullen chagrin, with its compressed lips, +downcast eyes, and faintly gathered brows. + +But directly she needed assistance, and requested it of him in a subdued +and impersonal manner, showing a countenance devoid of any incongruous +emotion. + +Lanyard, lifting the lieutenant's head and heavy torso, helped turn him +face downward on the berth, then stood aside, thoughtfully watching the +girl's deft fingers sop absorbent cotton in an antiseptic wash and apply it +to the injury. + +After a little, he said: "If mademoiselle has no more immediate use for +me--" + +"Thank you, monsieur. You have already done so very much!" + +"Then, if mademoiselle will supply the name of this assassin--" + +"I know it no more than you, monsieur!" She glanced up at him, startled. +"What do you mean to do?" + +"Why, naturally, lodge an information with the captain concerning this +outrage--" + +"Oh, please, no!" + +At a loss, Lanyard shrugged eloquently. + +"Not yet, at all events," she hastened to amend. "Let Lionel judge what is +best to be done when he comes to." + +"But, mademoiselle, who can say when that will be?" He pointed out the +ugly, ragged abrasion in the young Englishman's scalp exposed by the +cleansing away of the clotted blood. "No ordinary blow," he commented; +"something very like a slung-shot or a loaded cane did that work. If I may +venture again to advise--unless mademoiselle is herself a surgeon--" + +Her colour faded and she caught her breath sharply. "You think it as +serious as all that?" + +"I do not know. Such a blow might easily fracture the skull, possibly bring +about a concussion of the brain. Regard, likewise, his laborious breathing. +I most assuredly advise consulting competent authority." + +She did not immediately answer, turning back undivided attention to her +task; but he noticed that her hands were tremulous, however, dextrously +they finished dressing and bandaging the hurt; and deep distress troubled +the handsome eyes she turned to his when she rose. + +"You are right," she murmured--"unquestionably right, monsieur. We must +have the surgeon in...." + +But when Lanyard advanced a hand toward the bell-push, to call the steward, +she interposed in quick alarm: + +"No--if you please, a moment; I must have time to think!" Her slender +fingers writhed together in her agony of doubt and irresolution. "If only I +knew what to do...." + +Lanyard was dumb. There was, indeed, nothing helpful he could offer, who +was without a solitary tangible or trustworthy clue to the nature of this +strange business. + +He owned himself sadly mystified. In the light--or, rather, the shadow--of +this latest development, his revised suspicions seemed unwarranted to the +point of impertinence; unless, of course, one assumed the unknown assailant +to be a rejected lover or wronged husband. And somehow one did not, in +the presence of this clear-eyed, straight-limbed, courageous young +Englishwoman, so wanting in self-consciousness. + +And yet ... what the deuce was she to this man whom, indisputably, she +followed against his wish? + +And what conceivable chain of circumstances linked their fortunes with his, +and that double burglary of the first night out with this murderous assault +of to-night? + +Nor was to-night's work, considered by itself, lacking in questionable +features. + +Why had Thackeray carried that sound arm in a sling? How had its bandages +come to be unwrapped? Not in struggles before being placed hors de combat, +for he had never had a chance to resist. Had his assailant, then, unwrapped +it subsequently? If so, with what end in view? + +Why had this Miss Cecelia Brooke, surprising the thug at his work, joined +battle with him so bravely and so madly without calling for help? + +What hidden motive excused this singular hesitation to summon the surgeon, +this reluctance to inform the officers of the ship? + +What duplicity was that which the girl had paraded concerning her +procrastination when Lanyard had surprised her on her knees out there on +the landing? + +If this were what Lanyard had first inclined to think it, Secret Service +intrigue, surely it was weirdly intricate when an English girl hesitated +to safeguard an Englishman by taking into her confidence the officers of a +British ship, British manned! + +Nevertheless, and however much he might wonder and doubt, Lanyard would +never question her. Never of his own volition would he probe more deeply +into this mystery, take one farther step into the intricacies of its maze. + +So, in silence, he waited, passively courteous, at her further service if +she had need of him, content if she had not, tolerant of her tacit prayer +for time in which to think a way out of her difficulties. + +After some few moments he grew uncomfortably aware that he had become the +object of a speculative regard not at all unfavourable. + +He indulged in a mental gesture of resignation. + +Then what he had feared befell, not altogether as he had apprehended, but +in the girl's own fashion, if without material difference in the upshot. + +"I am afraid," said she in an even voice, so quietly pitched as to be +inaudible to any eavesdropper. "This becomes a task greater than I had +dreamed, more than my wits can cope with. Monsieur Duchemin...." + +She hesitated. He bowed slightly. "If mademoiselle can make any use of my +poor abilities, she has but to command me." + +"We--I have much to thank you for already, monsieur, much more than I can +ever hope to reward adequately--" + +"Reward?" he echoed. "But, mademoiselle--!" + +"Please don't misunderstand." She flushed a little, very prettily. "I am +simply trying to express my sense of obligation, not only for what you have +already done, but for what I mean to ask you to do." + +Again he bowed, without comment, amiably receptive. + +She resumed with perceptible effort: "I can trust you--" + +"You must make sure of that before you do," he warned her, smiling. + +"I am sure," she averred gravely. + +"You know nothing concerning me, mademoiselle--pardon! For all you know +I may be the greatest rogue in Christendom. And I must tell you in all +candour, sometimes I think I am." + +"What I may or may not know concerning you, Monsieur Duchemin, is +immaterial as long as I know you are what you have proved yourself to me, a +gentleman, considerate, generous, brave, and--not inquisitive." + +He was frankly touched. If this were flattery, tone and manner robbed it of +fulsomeness, rendered it subtle beyond the coarser perceptions of the man. +He knew himself for what he was, knew himself unworthy; and that part +of him which was unaffectedly French, whether by accident of birth or +influence of environment, and so impulsive and emotional, reacted in +spontaneous gratitude to this implicit acceptance of him for what he strove +to seem to be. + +"Mademoiselle is gracious beyond my deserts," he protested. "Only let me +know how I may be of use...." + +"In three ways: Continue to be lenient in your judgments, and ask me no +more questions than you must because ... I may not answer...." Her hands +worked together again. She added unhappily, in a faint voice: "I dare not." + +That, too, moved him, since he had been far from lenient in his judgments. +He responded the more readily: "All that is understood, mademoiselle." + +"Please go at once back to your stateroom, and as quietly as possible. +There is a bare chance you were not recognised, that nobody knows who came +to my aid to-night. If you can slip away without attracting attention, so +much the better for us, for all of us. You may not be suspected." + +"Trust me to use my best discretion." + +"Lastly ... take and keep this for me, till I ask you for it again. Hide it +as secretly as you can. It may be sought for, is certain to be if you are +believed to be in my confidence. It must not be found. And I may not want +it again before we land in New York." + +She extended a hand on whose palm rested a small and slender white +cylinder, no longer and little thicker than the toy pencil that dangles +from a dance-card: a tight roll of plain white paper enclosed in a wrapping +of transparent oiled silk, gummed fast down its length and, at either end, +sealed with miniature blobs of black wax. + +"Will you do this for me, Monsieur Duchemin? I warn you, it may cost you +your life." + +He took it, his temper veering to the whimsical. "What is life?" he +questioned. "A prelude--perhaps an overture to that great drama, Death. Who +knows? Who cares?" + +She heard him in a stare. "You place no value on life?" + +"Mademoiselle," he said, "I have lived nearly thirty years in this world, +three years in the theatre of war, seldom far from the trenches of one +front or another. I tell you, I know death too well...." + +He shrugged and put the roll of paper away in a pocket. + +"You understand it must not be taken from you under any circumstance? As a +last resort, it must be destroyed rather than yielded up." + +"It shall be," he said quietly. "Is there anything more?" + +She shook her head, thoughtfully knuckling her underlip. + +"How can I communicate with you in event of necessity after we get to New +York?" she asked. + +"I shall stop for a week or two at the Hotel Knickerbocker." + +"If anything should happen"--with a swift glance of anxiety toward the +motionless figure in the berth--"if anything should prevent my calling for +it within a week after our arrival, you will be good enough to deliver it +to--" She caught herself up quickly, the unuttered words trembling on her +lip. "I will write down the address of the person to whom you will deliver +it, and slip it underneath the door between our rooms--first making +certain you are there to receive it--if I do not ask you to return +the--thing--before we land." + +"That shall be as you will." + +"When you have memorized the address you will destroy it?" + +"Depend on that." + +"I think that is all. Thank you, Monsieur Duchemin--and good-night." + +She extended her hand. He saluted it punctiliously with fingertips and +lips. + +"If you will put out the light, mademoiselle, it may aid me to get away +unseen." + +She nodded and offered him Thackeray's pistol. "Take this. O, I have +another with me." + +Lanyard accepted the weapon and, when she had darkened the room, opened the +door, slipped out, and closed it behind him so noiselessly that the girl +could not believe he was gone. + +Nothing hindered his return to Stateroom 29. + +Fully two minutes after he had locked himself in he heard the distant +clamour of the annunciator, calling a steward to Stateroom 30. + + + + +VI + +UNDER SUSPICION + + +He sat for a long time on the edge of his berth, elbow on knee, chin in +hand, unstirring, gaze fixed upon that little cylinder of white paper +resting in the hollow of his palm, in profoundest concentration pondering +the problems it presented: what it was, what possession of it meant to +Michael Lanyard, what safe disposition to make of it pending welcome relief +from this unsought and most unwelcome trust. + +This last question alone bade fair to confound his utmost ingenuity. + +As for what it was, Lanyard was well satisfied that he now held the true +focus of this conspiracy, a secret of the first consequence, far too +momentous to the designs of England to be entrusted, though couched in the +most cryptic cipher ever mind of man devised, even to cables or mails which +England herself controlled. + +Solely to prevent this communication from reaching America, Lanyard +believed, Germany had sown mines broadcast in all the waters which the +_Assyrian_ must cross, and had commissioned her U-boats, without fail and +at whatever cost, to sink the vessel if by any accident she won safely +through the mine-fields. + +In the effort to steal this secret, German spies had sailed on the +_Assyrian_ knowing well the double risk they ran, of being shot like rats +if found out, of being drowned like neutrals if the ship went down through +the efforts of their compatriots. + +It was the zeal of Potsdam's agents, seeking the bearer of this secret, +which had caused the rifling of Miss Brooke's luggage when she fell under +suspicion, thanks to her clandestine way of coming aboard; and through the +same agency young Thackeray had been all but murdered when suspicion, for +whatever reason, shifted to him. + +To insure safe transmission of this communication, England had held the +_Assyrian_ idle in port, day after day, while her augmented patrols scoured +the seas, hunting down ruthlessly every submarine whose periscope dared +peer above the surface, and while her trawlers innumerable swept the +channels clear of mines. + +To prevent its theft, Lieutenant Thackeray had invented the subterfuge of +the "wounded" arm, amid whose splints and bandages (Lanyard never doubted) +the cylinder had been secreted. + +Finally, it was as a special agent, deep in her country's confidence, that +this English girl had smuggled herself aboard at the last moment, bringing, +no doubt, this very cylinder to be transferred to the keeping of Lieutenant +Thackeray or, perhaps, another confrčre, should she find reason to think +herself suspected, her trust endangered. + +Nothing strange in that; women had served their countries in such +capacities before; the secret archives of European chancellories are +replete with their records. Lanyard himself remembered many such women, +brilliant mondaines from many lands domiciled in that Paris of the so-dead +yesterday to serve by stealth their respective governments; but never, it +was true, a woman of the caste of Cecelia Brooke; unless, indeed, this were +an actress of surpassing talent, gifted to hoodwink the most skeptical and +least susceptible of men. + +And yet.... + +Lanyard's train of thought faltered. New doubt of the girl began to shadow +his meditations. Contradictory circumstances he had noted intruded, +uninvited, to challenge overcredulous conclusions concerning her. + +Would any secret agent worth her salt invite suspicion by making such a +conspicuously furtive embarkation, by such ostentatious avoidance of her +fellow passengers, by surrounding herself with an atmosphere of such +palpable mystery? Would such an one confess she had a "secret" to an utter +stranger, as she had to Lanyard that first night out? Would she, under any +conceivable circumstances, entrust to that same stranger that selfsame +secret upon whose inviolate preservation so much depended? + +And would she make love-trysts on the decks by night? + +Would a brother-agent take her in his arms, then reprove her with every +symptom of vexation for her "madness," her "insanity," her "nonsense" that +was like to "drive me mad"?--Thackeray's own words! + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits for some plausible reading of this +riddle. + +Was this Brooke girl possibly (of a sudden he sat bolt upright) a Prussian +agent infatuated with this young Englishman and by him beloved in spite of +all that forbade their passion? + +Did not this explanation reconcile every apparent inconsistency in her +conduct, even to the entrusting to a stranger of the stolen secret, the +purloined paper she dared not keep about her lest it be found in her +possession? + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. Visibly his features hardened. If this surmise of +his were any way justified in the outcome, he promised Miss Cecelia Brooke +an hour of most painful penitence. + +Woman or not, she need not look for mercy from him, who must ever be +merciless in his dealings with Ekstrom's crew. + +To be made that one's tool! + +The very thought was intolerable.... + +As for himself, possession of this paper meant that pitfalls were digged +for his every step. + +If ever the British found cause to suspect him, his certain portion would +be to face a firing squad in dusk of early day. + +If, on the other hand, these Prussian agents on board the _Assyrian_ ever +got wind of the fact that the cylinder was in his care, his fate was apt to +be a knife between his ribs the first time he was caught alone and--with +his back to the assassin. + +Two courses, then, were open to him: the most sensible and obvious, to go +straightway to the captain of the _Assyrian_, report all that he knew or +surmised, and turn over the paper for safekeeping; one alternative, to hide +the cylinder so absolutely that the most drastic search would overlook it, +yet so handily that he could rid himself of it at an instant's notice. + +But the first course involved denunciation of the Brooke girl. And what +if she were innocent? What if, after all, these doubts of her were the +specious spawn of facts misinterpreted, misconstrued? What if she proved to +be all she seemed? Could he, even though what he had warned her he might +be, the greatest rogue unhung, be false to a trust reposed in him by such a +woman? + +As to that, there was no question in his mind; he would never betray her, +lacking irrefutable conviction that she was an employee of the Prussian spy +system. + +Then how to hide the paper? + +Kneeling, Lanyard drew from beneath the berth his bellows-bag, selected +from its contents a black japanned tin case containing a rather elaborate +though compact trench medicine kit, the idle purchase of an empty afternoon +in London. Extracting from its fittings a small leather-covered case, he +replaced the kit, relocked and shoved the bag back beneath the berth. + +Then, standing over the hand-basin, he opened the leather-covered case. Its +velvet-lined compartments held a hypodermic syringe and needle, and a glass +phial of twenty-four one-thirtieth grain morphia tablets. + +Uncorking the phial, he shook out all the tablets, replaced three, then +slid the paper cylinder into the tube; it fitted precisely, concealed by +the label of the manufacturing chemist, leaving room for six more tablets. +Lanyard inserted four on top of the cylinder, moistening the lowermost +slightly to make it stick, recorked the phial, and returned it to its +compartment. + +Next he dissolved three morphia tablets in a little water in the bottom of +a glass, filled the syringe with the strong solution, fitted on the needle, +squirted most of the contents down the waste-pipe, and consigned the +remaining tablets to the same innocuous fate. + +Finally he replaced needle and syringe in the case, let the glass which had +held the solution stand without rinsing, and put the open case upon the +shelf above the basin. + +A light tapping sounded on the panels of his door. + +"Well? Who's there?" + +"Your steward, sir. Captain Osborne's compliments, an' 'e'd like to see you +in 'is room as soon as convenient, sir." + +"You may say I will come at once." + +"'Nk you, sir." + +A summons to have been expected as a sequel to the surgeon's report after +attending Lieutenant Thackeray; none the less, Lanyard had not expected it +so soon. + +Authority, he reflected, ran true to form afloat as well as ashore; it was +prompt enough when required to apply a pound or so of cure. Surely the +officers, at least the captain, must have been advised why this voyage +was apt to prove exceptionally hazardous; and surely in the light of such +information it had been wiser to set armed watches on every deck by night, +rather than permit the lives of passengers to be imperilled through the +possible activities of Prussian agents among them incogniti. + +And now that he was reminded of it, was not this, perhaps, but a device of +the enemy's to decoy him from the comparative safety of his stateroom? + +It was with a hand in his jacket pocket, grasping Thackeray's automatic, +that he presently left the room. The alleyway, however, was deserted except +for his steward; who, as he appeared, turned and led the way up to the +boat-deck. + +Rounding the foot of the companionway, Lanyard contrived a hasty glance +down the port alleyway. The door to Stateroom 30 was on the hook; a light +burned within. Outside a guard was stationed, a sailor with a cutlass: the +first application of the pound of cure! + +At the heels of his guide, he approached a door in the deck-house, devoted +to officers' accommodations, beneath the bridge. Here the steward knocked +discreetly. A heavy voice grumbling within was stilled for a moment, then +barked a sharp invitation to enter. The steward turned the knob, announced +dispassionately "Monseer Duchemin," and stood aside. Lanyard entered a +well-lighted room, simply but comfortably furnished as the captain's office +and sitting room; sleeping quarters adjoined, the head of a berth with a +battered pillow showing through a door a foot or so ajar. + +Four persons were present; the notion entered Lanyard's head that a fifth +possibly lurked in the room beyond, spying, eavesdropping: not a bad scheme +if Thackeray had an associate on board whose identity it was desirable to +keep under cover. + +The door closed gently behind him as he stood politely bowing, conscious +that the four faces turned his way were distinguished by a singular variety +of expression. + +Miss Cecelia Brooke was nearest him, beside a chair from which she had +evidently just risen, her pretty young face rather pale and set, a scared +look in her candid eyes. + +Beyond her, the captain sat with his back to a desk: a broad-beamed, +vigorous body, intensely masculine, choleric by habit, and just now in an +extraordinarily grim temper, his iron-gray hair bristling from his +pillow, and his stout person visibly suffering the discomfort of wearing +night-clothes beneath his uniform coat and trousers. Bending upon Lanyard +the steel-hard regard of small, steel-blue eyes, he drummed the arms of his +chair with thick and stubby fingers. + +To one side, standing, was the third officer, a Mr. Sherry, a youngish man +with a pleasant cast of countenance which temporarily wore a look, rarely +British, of ingrained sense of duty at odds with much embarrassment. + +Lastly Mr. Crane's lanky person was draped, with its customary effect of +carelessness, on one end of the lounge seat. He looked up, nodded shortly +but cheerfully to Lanyard, then resumed a somewhat quizzical contemplation +of the half-smoked cigar which etiquette obliged him to neglect in the +presence of a lady. + +"This is the gentleman?" Captain Osborne queried heavily of the girl. +Receiving a murmured affirmative, he continued: "Good morning, Monsieur +Duchemin.... Thanks, Miss Brooke; we won't keep you up any longer +to-night." + +He rose, bowed stiffly as Mr. Sherry opened the door for the girl, and when +she was gone threw himself back into his chair with a force which made it +enter a violent protest. + +"Sit down, sir. Daresay you know what we want of you." + +"It is not difficult to guess," Lanyard admitted. "A sad business, +monsieur." + +"Sad!" the captain iterated in a tone of harsh sarcasm. "That's a mild name +to give murder." + +Even had it not been blurted violently at him, that word was staggering. +The adventurer echoed it blankly. "You can't mean Lieutenant Thackeray--?" + +"Not yet, though doctor says it may come to that; the poor chap's in a bad +way--concussion." + +"So one feared. But monsieur said 'murder'...." + +Captain Osborne sat forward, steely gaze mercilessly boring into Lanyard's +eyes. "Monsieur Duchemin," he said slowly, "Lieutenant Thackeray was not +the only passenger to suffer through to-night's villainy. The other died +instantly." + +"In God's name, monsieur--who?" + +"Bartholomew." + +"Mr. Bartholomew!" A memory of that brisk little body's ruddy, cheerful, +British personality flashed athwart the screen of memory. Lanyard murmured: +"Incredible!" + +"Murdered," the captain proceeded, "in Stateroom 28. Lieutenant Thackeray +and he were friends, shared the suite. Apparently Mr. Bartholomew heard +some unusual noise in 30 and left his berth to investigate. He was struck +down from behind as he approached the communicating door. The murderer had +got in by way of the sitting room, 26." + +Mr. Sherry added in an awed voice: "Frightful blow--skull crushed like an +eggshell." + +There was a pause. Crane thoughtfully relighted his cigar, and wrapped his +right cheek round it. The captain glared glassily at Lanyard. Mr. Sherry +looked, if possible, more uncomfortable than ever. Lanyard pondered, +aghast. + +Ekstrom's work, of a certainty! This was his way, the way he imposed upon +his creatures. Ekstrom, ever a killer, obsessed by the fallacious notion +that dead men tell no tales.... + +And Bartholomew had been in this mess with Thackeray, both of them +operatives of the British Secret Service! + +"Miss Brooke has given her version of the attack on Lieutenant Thackeray," +the captain pursued. "Be good enough to let us have yours." + +Succinctly Lanyard recounted the happenings between the moment when +premonition of evil drew him from his stateroom and the moment when he +returned thereto. + +He was at pains, however, to omit all mention of the cylinder of paper; +that, pending definite knowledge to the contrary, was a sacred trust, a +matter of his honour, solely the affair of the Brooke girl. + +The captain squared himself toward Lanyard, his face louring, his jaw +pugnacious. + +"How did you happen to be up and dressed at that late hour, so ready to +respond to this--ah--premonition of yours?" + +"I sleep not well, monsieur. It was my intention to go on deck and +endeavour to walk off my insomnia." + +Captain Osborne commented with a snort. + +"Why did you leave Miss Brooke alone before she called the doctor?" + +"At mademoiselle's request, naturally." + +"You'd been deuced gallant up to that time. I presume it didn't occur to +you that the young woman might need further protection?" + +Lanyard shrugged. "It did not occur to me to refuse her request, monsieur." + +"Didn't it strike you as odd she should wish to be left alone with +Lieutenant Thackeray?" + +"It was not my affair, monsieur. It was her wish." + +"Excuse me, cap'n." Crane sat up. "I'd like to ask Mr. Lanyard a question." + +But Lanyard had prepared himself against that, and acknowledged the touch +with a quiet smile and the hint of a bow. + +"Monsieur Crane...." + +"U.S. Secret Service," Crane informed him with a grin. "Velasco spotted +you--had seen you years ago in Paruss--tipped me off." + +"So one inferred. And these gentlemen?" Lanyard indicated the captain and +third officer. + +"I wised them up--had to, when this happened." + +"Naturally, monsieur. Proceed...." + +"I only wanted to ask if you noticed anything to make you think perhaps +there was an understanding between Miss Brooke and the lieutenant?" + +"Why should I?" + +"I ain't curious why you should. What I want to know is, did you?" + +"No, monsieur," Lanyard lied blandly. + +"The little lady didn't seem to take on more'n she naturally would if the +lieutenant'd been a stranger, eh?" "How to judge, when one has never seen +mademoiselle distressed on behalf of another?" + +Crane abandoned his effort, resuming contemplation of his cigar. + +"Now we come to the point. Monsieur Lanyard, or whatever your name is." + +"I have found Duchemin very agreeable, monsieur le capitaine." + +"I daresay," Captain Osborne sneered. He hesitated, glowering in the +difficulty of thinking. "See here, Monsieur Duchemin--since you prefer that +style--I'm not going to beat about the bush with you. I'm a plain man, +plain-spoken. They tell me you reformed. I don't know anything about that. +It's my conviction, once a thief, always a thief. I may be wrong." + +"Right or wrong, monsieur might easily be less offensive." + +The captain's dark countenance became still more darkly congested. +Implacable prejudice glinted in his small eyes. Nor was his temper softened +by the effrontery of this offender in giving back look for look with a calm +poise that overshadowed his arrogance of an honest, law-abiding man. + +He made a vague gesture of impatience. + +"The point is," he said, "this crime was accompanied by robbery." + +"Am I to understand I am accused?" + +"Nobody is accused," Crane cut in hastily. + +"You have found no clues--?" + +"Nary clue." + +"What I want to say to you, Monsieur Duchemin, is this: the stolen property +has got to be recovered before this ship makes her dock in New York. +It means the loss of my command if it isn't. It means more than that, +according to my information; it means a disastrous calamity to the Allied +cause. And you're a Frenchman, Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"And a thief. Monsieur le capitaine must not forget his pet conviction." + +"As to that, a man can't always be particular about the tools he employs. I +believe the old saying, set a thief to catch a thief, holds good." + +"Do I understand," Lanyard suggested sweetly, "you are about to honour me +by utilizing my reputed talents, by commissioning a thief to catch this +thief of to-night?" + +"Precisely. You know more of this matter than any of us here. You were at +hand-grips with the murderer--and let him get away." + +"To my deep regret. But I have told you how that happened." + +"Seems a bit strange you made no real effort to find out what the scoundrel +looked like." + +"It was dark in that alleyway, monsieur." + +The captain made an inarticulate noise, apparently meant to convey an +effect of ironic incredulity. More intelligible comment was interrupted by +a ring of the telephone. He swung around, clapped receiver to ear, snapped +an impatient "Well?" and listened with evident exasperation. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. This business of telephoning was conceivably +well-timed; not improbably the captain was receiving the report of somebody +who had been sent to search Stateroom 29 in Lanyard's absence. He wondered +and, wondering, glanced at Crane, to find that gentleman watching him with +a whimsical glimmer which he was quick to extinguish when the captain said +curtly, "Very good, Mr. Warde," and turned back from the telephone, his +manner more than ever truculent. + +"Mr. Lanyard," he said--"Monsieur Duchemin, that is--a valuable paper has +been stolen, an exceedingly valuable document. I don't know which carried +it, Lieutenant Thackeray or Mr. Bartholomew. But I do know such a paper was +in their possession. And to the best of my knowledge, we three were the +only ones on board that did know it. And it has disappeared. Now, sir, you +may or may not be deeper in this affair than you have admitted. If you are, +I'd advise you to own up." + +"Monsieur le capitaine implies my complicity in this dastardly crime!" + +Osborne shook his head doggedly. "I imply nothing. I only say this: if you +know anything you haven't told us, my advice is to make a clean breast of +it." + +"I have nothing to tell you, monsieur, beyond the fact that I find you, +your tone, your manner, and your choice of words, intolerably insolent." + +"Then you know nothing--?" + +"Monsieur!" Lanyard cried sharply. + +"Very good," the captain persisted. "I'll take your word for it--and give +you till we take on our pilot to find the real criminal and make him give +up that paper." + +"And if I fail?" + +"Not a soul on board leaves the _Assyrian_ till the murderer and thief are +found--if they are not one." + +"But that is a general threat; whereas monsieur has honoured me by +making this a personal matter. What punishment have you prepared for +me specifically, if I fail to accomplish this task which baffles +your--shrewdness?" + +"I'll at least inform the port authorities in New York, tell them who you +are, and have you barred out of the country." + +"I want to say, Lanyard," Crane interposed, "this isn't my notion of how to +deal with you, or in any way by my advice." + +"Thank you, monsieur," the adventurer replied icily, without removing his +attention from the captain. "What else, Captain Osborne?" + +"That is all I have to say to you to-night, sir. Good-night." + +"But I have something more to say to you, monsieur le capitaine. First, I +desire to give over to you this article which it will doubtless please you +to consider stolen property." Lanyard placed the automatic pistol on the +desk. "One of Lieutenant Thackeray's," he explained; "at Miss Brooke's +suggestion, I borrowed it as a life-preserver, in event of another brush +with this homicidal maniac." + +"She told us about that," Osborne said heavily, fumbling with the weapon. +"What else, sir?" + +"Only this, monsieur le capitaine: I shall use my best endeavour to uncover +the author of these crimes. If I succeed, be sure I shall denounce him. If +I succeed only in securing this valuable paper you speak of, be equally +sure you will never see it; for it shall leave my hands only to pass into +those which I consider entirely trustworthy." + +"The devil!" Captain Osborne leaped from his chair quaking with fury. "You +dare accuse me of disloyalty--!" + +"Now you mention it...." Lanyard cocked his head to one side with a +maddening effect of deliberation. "No," he concluded--"no; I wouldn't +accuse you of intentional treason, monsieur; for that would involve an +imputation of intelligence...." + +He opened the door and nodded pleasantly to Crane and the third officer. + +"Good-night, gentlemen," he said silkily. "Oh, and you, too, Captain +Osborne--good-night, I'm sure." + + + + +VII + +IN STATEROOM 29 + + +In spite of his own anger, something far from being either assumed or +inconsiderable, Lanyard was fain to pause, a few paces from the deck-house, +and laugh quietly at a vast and incoherent booming which was resounding in +the room he had just quitted--Captain Osborne trying to do justice to +the emotions inspired in his virtuous bosom by the cheek of this damned +gaol-bird. + +But suddenly, reminded of the grim reason for all this wretched brawling, +Lanyard shrugged off his amusement. Beneath his very feet, almost a man +lay dead, another perhaps dying, while the beast who had wrought that +devilishness remained at large. + +He comprehended in a wondering regard that wide, star-blazoned arch of +skies, that broad, dark, restful mystery of waters, that still, sweet world +of peace through which the _Assyrian_ forged, muttering contentedly at her +toil ... while Murder with foul hands and slavering chops skulked somewhere +in the darkened fabric of her, somewhere beyond that black mouth of the +deck-port yawning at Lanyard's elbow. + +From that same portal a man came abruptly but quietly, saw Lanyard standing +there, gave him a staring look and grudging nod, and strode forward to the +captain's quarters: Mr. Warde, the first officer. + +Lanyard recollected himself, and went below. + +Still the sailor guarded the door in that port alleyway; but now it stood +wide, and Cecelia Brooke was on its threshold, conversing guardedly with +the surgeon. Even as Lanyard caught sight of them, the latter bowed and +turned aft, while the girl retreated and refastened the door on its hook. + +Thus reminded of Crane's shrewd questions, Lanyard was speculating rather +foggily concerning the reason therefor as he turned down the passage to +his own quarters. What had the American noticed, or been told, to make him +surmise covert sympathy between the girl and the lieutenant? + +He caught himself yawning. Drowsiness buzzed in his brain. He had an +incoherent feeling that he would now sleep long and heavily. Entering his +stateroom, he put a shoulder against the door, pushing it to as he fumbled +for the switch. The circumstance that the lights were no longer burning as +he had left them failed to impress him as noteworthy in view of his belief +that, by the captain's orders, Mr. Warde had been ransacking his effects in +his absence. + +But when no more than a click responded to a turn of the switch, the room +remaining quite dark, Lanyard uttered an imprecation, abruptly very wide +awake indeed. + +Before he could move he stiffened to positive immobility: the cool, hard +nose of a pistol had come into contact with his skull, just behind the ear. + +Simultaneously a softly-modulated voice advised him in purest German: "Be +quite still, Herr Lanyard, and hold up your hands--so! Also, see that you +utter no sound till I give you leave.... Karl, the handkerchief." + +Lanyard stood motionless, hands well elevated, while a heavy silk blindfold +was whipped over his eyes and knotted tight at the back of his head. + +"Now your paws, Herr Lone Wolf--put them together behind your back, +prudently making no attempt to reach a pocket." + +Obediently Lanyard permitted his wrists to be caught together with a second +silk handkerchief. He could feel a slight sensation of heat upon his hands, +and guessed that this was caused by the light of a flash-lamp held close +to the flesh. None the less he took the chance of clenching his fists and +tensing the muscles of his wrists. + +"Tightly, Karl." + +The bonds were made painfully fast. Still it did not seem to occur to his +captors to oblige their prisoner to open his hands and relax his wrists. +Lanyard perceived a glimmer of hope in this oversight: the enemy was +normally stupid. + +"Now the lights again." + +After a little wait, during which he could hear the bulbs being pressed +back into their sockets, the switch clicked once more. + +"And now, swine-dog!"--the pistol tapped his skull significantly--"if you +value your life, speak, and speak quickly. Where is that document?" + +"Document?" Lanyard repeated in a tone of wonder. + +"Unless you are eager to explore the hereafter, tell us where we may find +it without delay." + +"Upon my word, I don't know what you're talking about." + +"You lie!" the German snapped. "Face about!" + +Somebody grasped his shoulders roughly and swung him round to the light, +the nose of the pistol shifting to press against his abdomen. + +"Search him, Karl." + +Unseen hands investigated his pockets cunningly. As they finished, the man +who answered to the name of Karl became articulate for the first time, +following a grunt of disappointment: + +"Nothing--he has it not upon him." + +"Look more thoroughly. Did you think him idiot enough to carry it where +you'd find it at the first dip? Imbecile!" + +For the purpose of this second search Lanyard's garments were ripped +open, and the enemy made sure that he carried nothing next his skin more +incriminating than a money-belt, which was forcibly removed. + +"His shoes--see to his shoes!" the first speaker insisted irritably. "Sit +down, Lanyard!" + +A petulant push sent the adventurer reeling across the cabin to fall upon +the lounge seat beneath the port. With some effort he assumed a sitting +position, while Karl, kneeling, hastily unlaced and tore off his shoes and +socks. + +"Nothing, captain," was the report. + +"Damnation!... Continue to search his luggage. Leave nothing unexamined. +In particular look into every hole and corner where none but a fool would +attempt to hide anything. This fine gentleman imagines we value his +intelligence too highly to believe he would leave the paper in plain +sight." + +To an accompaniment of sounds indicating that Karl was obeying his +superior, this last resumed in a tone of lofty contempt: + +"How is it you have abandoned the habit of going armed, Herr Lone Wolf? +That is not like you. Is it that you grow unwary through drug-using? But +that matters nothing. We have more important business to speak over, you +and I. You will be very, very docile, and answer promptly, also in a low +voice, if you would avoid getting hurt. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," Lanyard replied, furtively working at the bonds on his wrists. + +"Good. We speak together like good friends, yes?" + +"Naturally," said Lanyard. "It is so conducive to chumminess to be caressed +with an automatic pistol--you've no idea!" + +"Oblige by speaking German. Our ears are sick with all this bastard +English. Also, more quietly speak. Do not put me to the regrettable +necessity of shooting you." + +"How regrettable? You didn't stick at braining those others--" + +"Hardly the same thing. You are not like those English swine. You are +French; and Germany has no hatred for France, but only pity that it so +fatuously opposes manifest destiny. In truth, you are not even French, but +a great thief; and criminals have no patriotism, nor loyalty to any State +but their own, the state of moral turpitude." + +The speaker interrupted himself to relish his wit with a thick chuckle. And +Lanyard's jaws ached with the strain of self-control. He continued to pluck +at the folds of silk while concentrating in effort to memorise the voice, +which he failed utterly to place. Undoubtedly this animal was a shipboard +acquaintance, one who knew him well; but those detestable German gutturals +disguised his accents quite beyond identification. + +"For all that, you are not wise so to try my patience. I permit you five +minutes by my watch in which to make up your mind to surrender that +document." + +"How often must I tell you," Lanyard enquired, "all this talk of documents +is Greek to me?" + +"Then you have five minutes to brush up your classical education, and +translate into terms suited to your intelligence. I will have that document +from you or--in four more minutes--shoot you dead." + +To this Lanyard said nothing. But his patient attentions to the +handkerchief round his wrists were beginning perceptibly to be rewarded. + +"Moreover, Herr Lanyard, you will do yourself a very good turn by +confessing--entirely aside from saving your life." + +"How is that?" + +"Providing you persuade me of your good faith, I am empowered to offer you +employment in our service." + +Lanyard's breath passed hardly through a throat swollen with rage, chagrin, +and hatred, all hopelessly impotent. But he succeeded in preserving an +unruffled countenance, as his captor's next words demonstrated. + +"You are surprised, yes? You are thinking it over? Take your time--you have +three minutes more. Or perhaps you are sulky, resenting that our cleverness +has found you out? Be reasonable, my good man. Think: you cannot be +insensible to the honour my offer does you." + +"What do you want of me?" + +"First, that paper--thereafter to use your surpassing talents to the glory +of God and Fatherland. In addition, you will be greatly rewarded." + +"Now you do begin to interest me," Lanyard said coolly.... Surely he could +contrive some way to slay this beast with his naked hands! He must play for +time.... "How rewarded?" + +"As I say, with a place in the Prussian Secret Service, its protection, +freedom to ply your trade unhindered in America, even countenanced, till +that country becomes a German province under German laws." + +"But do I hear you offer this to a Frenchman?" + +"Undeceive yourself. Men of all nations to-day, recognising that the star +of Germany is in the ascendant, that soon all nations will be German, +are hastening to make their peace beforehand by rendering Germany good +service." + +"Something in that, perhaps," Lanyard admitted thoughtfully. + +"Think well, my friend.... Yes, Karl?" + +The voice of the other spy responded sullenly: "Nothing--absolutely +nothing." + +"Two minutes, Herr Lanyard." + +Of a sudden Lanyard's face was violently distorted in a grimace of terror. +He lurched his shoulders forward, openly struggling with his bonds. + +"But--good God!" he protested in a voice of terror, "you can't possibly be +so unreasonable! I tell you, I haven't got your damned paper!" + +A loop of the handkerchief slipped over one hand. + +"Be still! Cease your struggles. And not so loud, my friend!" The +peremptory voice dropped into mockery as Lanyard, pale and exhausted, sat +back trembling--and a second loop of silk dropped over the other hand. "So +you begin to appreciate that we mean business, yes? One minute and thirty +seconds!" + +"Have mercy!" the adventurer whined desperately--and licked his lips as if +he found them dry with fear. Now both hands were all but wholly free. True: +he remained blindfolded and covered by a deadly weapon. "Give me a chance. +I'll do anything you wish! But I can't give you what I haven't got." + +"Be silent! Here, Karl." + +There was a sound of unintelligible murmuring as the two spies conferred +together. Lanyard writhed in apparent extremity of terror. His hands were +free. He sought hopelessly for inspiration. What to do without arms? + +"Be grateful to Karl. He urges that perhaps you know nothing of the +document." + +"Don't you think I'd tell if I did know?" + +"Then you have one minute--no, forty seconds--in which to pledge yourself +to the Prussian Secret Service." + +"You want me to swear--?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then hear me," said Lanyard earnestly: "_You damned canaille_!" And in +one movement he tore the bandage from his eyes and launched himself head +foremost at the man who stood over him. + +He caught part of an oath drowned out by the splitting report of a pistol +that went off within an inch of his ear. Then his head took the man full +in the belly, and both went sprawling to the deck, Lanyard fighting like a +maniac. + +Sheer luck had guided clawing fingers to the right wrist of his antagonist, +round which they shut like jaws of a trap. At the same time he wrenched the +other's arm high above his head. + +Momentarily expecting the shock of a bullet from the pistol of the second +spy, he found time to wonder that it was so long deferred, and even in +the fury of his struggles, out of the corner of one eye caught a fugitive +glimpse of a tallish man, masked, standing back to the forward partition in +a pose of singular indecision, pistol poised in his grasp. + +Then the efforts of his immediate adversary threw him into a position in +which he was unable to see the other. + +Of a sudden the stateroom was filled with the thunder of an automatic, its +seven cartridges discharged in one brisk, rippling crash. + +It was as if a white-hot iron had been laid across Lanyard's shoulder. +Beneath him the man started convulsively, with such force as almost to +throw him off bodily, then relaxed altogether and lay limp and still, +pinning one of Lanyard's arms under him. + +Its visor displaced, the face of Baron von Harden was revealed, features +distorted, eyes glaring, a frozen mask of hate and terror. + +His arm free, the adventurer rolled away from the corpse in time to see the +open window-port blocked by the body of the other spy. + +Gathering himself together, he snatched up the pistol that dropped from the +inert grasp of the dead man, and levelled it at the port. + +But now that space was empty. + +He rose and paused for an instant, his glance instinctively seeking the +ledge above the hand-basin. + +The hypodermic outfit was there, but minus the phial. + +In the alleyway rose a confusion of running feet and shouting tongues. +A heavy banging rang on the door to Stateroom 29. Crane's nasal accents +called upon Lanyard to open. + + + + +VIII + +OFF NANTUCKET + + +Upon the authors of that commotion Lanyard wasted no consideration +whatever. Let them knock and clamour; he had more urgent work in hand, and +knew too well the penalty were he stupid enough to unbolt to them. Their +bodies would dam the doorway hopelessly; insistent hands would hinder him; +innumerable importunate enquiries would be dinned at him, all immaterial +in contrast with this emergency, a catechism one would need an hour to +satisfy. And all attempts would be futile to make them understand that, +while they plagued him with futile questions, a murderer and spy and thief +was making good his escape, being afforded ample opportunity to slough all +traces of his recent work and resume unchallenged his place among them. + +No; if by any freak of good fortune, any exertion of wit or daring, that +one were to be apprehended, it must be within the next few minutes, it +could only be through immediate pursuit. + +Nor did the adventurer waste time debating the better course. With him, +whose ways of life were ceaselessly beset by instant and mortal perils, +each with its especial and imperative demand upon his readiness and +ingenuity, action must ever press so hard upon the heels of thought as to +make the two seem one. + +For that matter, the whole transaction had been characterised by almost +unbelievable rapidity. And that square opening of the window-port was +hardly vacant when Lanyard sprang to his feet; the fugitive had barely time +to find his own upon the outer deck before Lanyard leaped after him; the +first thumps upon the panels of his door were still echoing when he thrust +head and shoulders out of the port and began to pump the automatic at a +shadow fleeing aft upon that narrow breadth of planking between rail and +wall. + +Then, at the third shot, the automatic jammed upon a discharged shell. + +Exasperated, the adventurer cast the weapon from him, shrugged hastily out +of his unfastened coat and waistcoat, hitched tight his belt, and clambered +through the port. + +Dropping to the deck, he turned in time to see the fugitive dart round the +shoulder of the superstructure. + +As Lanyard gained the after rail of the promenade deck a man standing on +the boat-deck at the head of the companion-ladder greeted him with pistol +fire. He dodged back, untouched, and instantaneously devised a stratagem to +cope with this untoward development. + +Overhead, at the side, a lifeboat hung on its davits, ready for emergency +launching, the gap in the rail which it filled when normally swung inboard +spanned only by a length of line. And the darkness in the shadow of the +boat was dense, an excellent screen. + +Climbing upon the rail, Lanyard grasped the edge of the deck overhead and +drew himself up undetected by his quarry, whom he espied still holding +the head of the companion ladder, hidden from the bridge by the after +deck-house, standing ready to shoot Lanyard should he attempt to renew the +pursuit by that approach. + +At the same time, "Karl" seemed mysteriously occupied with some object or +objects in whose manipulation he was hampered to a degree by the necessity +under which he laboured of holding his pistol ready and dividing his +attention. + +A man of good stature, broad at the shoulders, slender at the hips, he +poised himself with athletic grace--the lower part of his face masked by +what Lanyard took to be a dark silk handkerchief. + +Lanyard heard him swearing in German. + +Then a brisk little spray of sparks jetted from the flint and steel of a +patent cigar-lighter in the hands of the spy. And as Lanyard rose from his +knees after ducking beneath the line, a stream of fatter sparks spat from +the end of a fuse. + +The man leaned over the rail and cast a small black object to which the +sputtering fuse was attached, down to the main deck. + +As it struck midway between superstructure and stern it burst into +brilliant flame, releasing upon the night an electric-blue glare that must +have been visible from any point within the compass of the horizon. + +A yell of profane remonstrance saluted the light, and throughout the brief +passage that followed Lanyard was conscious that pistols and rifles on the +after deck below were making him and his antagonist their targets. + +Before the German could face about, Lanyard, moving almost noiselessly in +his bare feet, had covered more than half the intervening space. In another +breath he might have had the fellow at a disadvantage. But the distance +was too great. Twice the automatic blazed in his face as he closed in, the +bullets clearing narrowly--or else he fancied that their deadly cold breath +fanned his cheek. + +Then the spy's weapon in turn went out of action. Half blinded, Lanyard +clipped the man round the body and hugged him tight, exerting all his skill +and strength to effect a throw. + +That effort failed; his onslaught was met with address and ability that +all but matched his own. The animal he embraced had muscles like tempered +springs and the cunning and fury of a wild beast in a trap. For a moment +Lanyard was able to accomplish no more than to smother resistance in a +rib-crushing embrace; no sooner did he relax it than all attempts to shift +his hold were anticipated and met half way, forcing him back upon the +defensive. + +Yet he was given little chance to prove himself the master. The first phase +of the struggle was still in contest when the rear door of the smoking room +opened and a man stepped out, paused, summed up the situation in a glance, +seized Lanyard from behind. + +The adventurer felt his arms grasped by hands whose strength seemed little +short of superhuman, and wrenched back so violently that his very bones +cracked. Fairly lifted from his feet, he was held as helpless as an infant +kicking in the arms of its nurse. + +Released, the other spy stepped back and swung his left fist viciously to +Lanyard's jaw. Something in the brain of the adventurer seemed to let +go; his head dropped weakly to one side. The man who had struck him said +quietly, "Loose the fool, Ed," and followed as Lanyard reeled away, +striking him repeatedly. + +For a giddy moment Lanyard was darkly conscious--as one dreams an evil +dream--of blows raining mercilessly about his head and body, blows that +drove him back athwartships toward a fate dark and terrible, a great void +of blackness. He felt unutterably weary, and was weakened by a sensation of +nausea. Beneath him his knees buckled. There fell one final blow, ruthless +as the wrath of God. + +He was falling backward into nothingness, into an everlasting gulf of night +that yawned for him.... + +As he shot under the guard rope and into space between the edge of the deck +and the keel of the lifeboat, the spy rounded smartly on a heel and darted +to the smoking-room door. His confederate was in the act of stepping across +the raised threshold. He followed, closed the door. + +The first officer, charging aft from the bridge, rounded the deck-house and +pulled up with a grunt of surprise to find the deck completely deserted.... + +The shock of icy immersion reanimated Lanyard. + +He felt himself plunging headlong down, down, and down to inky depths +unguessable. The sheer habit of an accustomed swimmer alone bade him hold +his breath. + +Then came a pause: he was no more descending; for a time of indeterminate +duration, an age of anguish, he seemed to float without motion, suspended +in frigid purgatory. Against his ribs something hammered like a racing +engine. In his ears sounded a vast roaring, the deafening voices of a +thousand waterfalls. His head felt swollen and enormous, on the point of +bursting wide. + +Without warning expelled from those depths, he shot full half-length out of +water, and fell back into the milky welter of the _Assyrian's_ wake. + +Instinctively he kept afloat with feeble strokes. + +The cold was bitter, as sharp as the teeth of death; but his head was now +clear, he was able to appreciate what had befallen him. + +Already the _Assyrian_, forging onward unchecked, had left him well astern, +her progress distinctly disclosed by that infernal bluish glare spouting +from her after deck. + +She seemed absurdly small. Incredulity infected Lanyard's mind. Nothing so +tiny, so insignificant, so make-believe as that silhouette of a ship could +conceivably be that great liner, the _Assyrian_.... + +Temporarily a burning pain in his left shoulder drove all other +considerations out of mind. The salt water was beginning to smart in the +raw, superficial wound made by that assassin's bullet ... back there in the +stateroom ... long ago.... + +Then the cold began to bite into his marrow, and he struggled manfully +to swim, taking long, slow strokes, at first comparatively powerful, by +insensible degrees losing force. + +Just why he took this trouble he did not know: for some dim reason it +seemed desirable to live as long as possible. Withal he was aware he could +not live. Whether careless or utterly ignorant of his fate, the _Assyrian_ +was trudging on and on, leaving him ever farther astern, lost beyond rescue +in that weird, bleak waste. Even were an alarm to be given, were she to +stop now and put out a boat, it would find him, if it found him at all, too +late. + +The cold was killing. + +He felt very sleepy. Drowsily he apprehended the beginning of the end. +His senses, growing numb with cold, presently must cease to function +altogether. Then he would forget, and nothing would matter any more. + +Yet the will to live persisted amazingly. Had Lanyard wished it he could +not have ceased to swim, at least to keep afloat. Vaguely he wondered how +people ever managed to commit suicide by drowning; it seemed to pass human +power to resist that buoyancy which sustained one, to let go, let one's +self go down. Impossible to conceive how that was ever done.... + +Why should he care to go on living? + +No reading that riddle!... + +On obscure impulse he gave up swimming, turned upon his back, floated face +to the sky, derelict, resigning himself to the cradling arms of the sea. +The gradual, slow rocking of the swells soothed his passion like a kindly +opiate. The cold no more irked him, but seemed somehow strangely anodynous. +Imperturbably he envisaged death, without fear, without welcome. What must +be, must.... + +For all that, life clutched at him with jealous hands. More than ever +sleepy, before he slept that last, long sleep he must somehow solve this +enigma, learn the reason why life continued so to allure his failing +senses. + +Athwart the drab texture of consciousness wild fancies played like heat +lightning in a still midsummer night. + +Death's countenance was kind. + +That wide field of stars, drooping low and lifting away with rhythmic +motion, would sometime dip swiftly down to the very sea itself and, +swinging back, take with it his soul to some remote bourne.... + +The deeps were yielding up their mysteries. Past him a huge pale monster +swept at furious pace, hissing grimly as it passed, like some spectral +Nemesis pursuing the _Assyrian_. + +Indifferently he speculated concerning the reality of this phenomenon. + +The heave of a swell enabled him to glance incuriously after the steamship. +She seemed smaller, less genuine than ever, a shadow shape that boasted +visibility solely through that unearthly light on her after deck. Even +that now had waned to a mere glimmer, the flicker of a candle lost in the +immensities of that night-bound world of empty sky and empty ocean. Even as +he that had been named Michael Lanyard was a lost light, a tiny flame that +guttered toward its swift extinction.... + +Why live, when one might die and, dying, find endless rest? + +Like a blazing thunderbolt one word rent the slumbrous web of sentience: +_Ekstrom_! + +Galvanised by the flood of hatred unpent by the syllables of that name, +Lanyard began again to swim, flailing the water with frantic arms as if to +win somewhither by the very violence of his efforts. + +This the one cogent reason why he must not, could not, die.... + +Unjust to require him to give up life while that one lived. Unfair.... It +must not be!... + +Across the sea rolled a dull, brutish detonation. The swimmer, swung high +on the bosom of a great swell, saw a vast sheet of fire raving heavenward +from the _Assyrian_. + +It vanished instantly. + +When his dazzled vision cleared, he could see no more of the ship. He +imagined a faint, wild rumour of panic voices, conjured up scenes of horror +indescribable as that great fabric sank almost instantaneously, as if some +gigantic hand plucked her under. + +What had happened? Had the accomplices of the dead Baron von Harden set off +an infernal machine aboard the vessel? In the name of reason, why? They had +got what they sought, that accursed document, whatever it was, that page +torn from the Book of Doom. Then why...? + +And to what end had they exploded that light bomb on the after deck? + +To make the _Assyrian_ a glaring target in the night--what else? A target +for what?... + +Of a sudden all rational mental processes were erased from Lanyard's +consciousness. A wave of pure fear flooded him, body, mind, and soul. He +began to struggle like a maniac, fighting the waters that hindered his +flight from some hideous thing that was lifting up from the ocean's ooze to +drag him down. + +He heard a voice screaming thinly, and knew it was his own. + +The impossible was happening to him, out there, alone and helpless on the +face of the waters. A shape of horror was rising out of the deep to engorge +him. He could feel distinctly the slow, irresistible heave of its bulk +beneath him. His feet touched and slipped upon its horrible sleek flanks. + +His most desperate efforts were all unavailing. He could not escape. The +thing came up too rapidly. Following that first mad thrill of contact with +it underfoot, he was lifted swiftly and irresistibly into the air. Almost +instantly he was floundering in knee-deep waters that parted, cascading +away on either hand. Then, elevated well above the sea, he slid and fell +prone upon a slimy wet surface. + +His clawing hands clutched something solid and substantial, an upright bar +of metal. + +Incredulously Lanyard pawed the body of the monster beneath him. His hands +passed over a riveted joint of metal plates. Looking up, he made out the +truncated cone of a conning tower with its antennae-like periscope tubes +stencilled black upon the soft purple of the star-strewn sky. + +Slowly the truth came home: a submarine had risen beneath him. He lay upon +its after deck, grasping a stanchion that supported the small raised bridge +round the conning tower. + +He sobbed a little in sheer hysteric gratitude, that this miracle had been +vouchsafed unto him, that he had thus been spared to live on against his +hour with Ekstrom. + +But when he sought to drag himself up to the bridge, he could not, he +was too weak and faint. Ceasing to struggle, he rested in half stupour, +panting. + +With a harsh clang a hatch was thrown back. Rousing, Lanyard saw several +figures emerge from the conning tower. Men uncouthly clothed in shapeless, +shiny leather garments, straddled and stretched above him, filling their +lungs with the sweet air. He tried to call to them, but evoked a mere +rattle from his throat. + +Two came to the edge of the bridge and stood immediately over him, fixing +binoculars to their eyes, their voices quite audible. + +A pang of despair shot through Lanyard when he heard them conferring +together in the German tongue. + +Death, then, was but a little delayed. + +Thereafter he lay in dumb apathy, save that he shivered and his teeth +chattered uncontrollably. + +Through the torpor that rested like a black cloud upon his senses he caught +broken phrases, snatches of sentences: + +"... _sinking fast ... struck square amidships ... broke her back_...." + +"... _trouble with her boats. There goes one over_!..." + +"... _fools jumping overboard like cattle_...." + +"_What's that rocket? Do the swine want us to shell their boats_?" + +"_Why not? They're asking for it_!" + +One of the officers lowered his glasses and barked a series of sharp +commands. The crew on deck leaped to attention. One leaned over the +conning-tower hatch and shouted to his mates below. A hatch forward of +the tower opened, and a quick-firing gun on a disappearing carriage swung +smoothly and silently up from its lair. + +The other officer, looking down, started violently. + +"_Verdammt_! What's this?" + +The first rejoined him. "Impossible!" + +"Impossible or not--a man or a cadaver!" + +"Have him up and see...." + +By order, two of the crew dragged Lanyard up to the bridge, supporting him +by main strength while the officers examined him. + +"At the last gasp, but alive," one announced. + +"How the devil did he get out here?" + +"From the _Assyrian_--" + +"Impossible for any man to swim this far since our torpedo struck--" + +"Then he must have gone overboard before it struck--or was thrown--" + +A cry of alarm from the group about the gun, awaiting final orders to open +fire upon the _Assyrian's_ boats, interrupted the conference. The officers +swung away in haste. + +"Hell's fury! what's that searchlight?" + +"A Yankee destroyer--in all probability the one we dodged yesterday +afternoon." + +"She'll find us yet if we don't submerge. Forward, there--house that gun! +And get below--quickly!" + +During a moment of apparent confusion, one of the men sustaining Lanyard +caught the attention of an officer. + +"What shall we do with this fellow, sir?" he enquired. + +"Leave him here to sink or swim as we go down," snapped the officer--"and +be damned to him!" + +With a supreme effort the adventurer sank his fingers deep into the arms of +the two men. + +"Wait!" he gasped faintly in German. "On the Emperor's service--" + +"What's that?" The officer turned back sharply. + +"Imperial Secret Service," Lanyard faltered--"Personal +Division--Wilhelmstrasse Number 27--" + +A brilliant glare settled suddenly upon the deck of the submarine, and was +welcomed by a panicky gust of oaths. One officer had already popped through +the conning-tower hatch, followed by several of the crew. There remained +only those supporting Lanyard, and the second officer. + +"Take him below!" the latter ordered. "He may be telling the truth. If +not...." + +In the distance a gun boomed. A shell shrieked over the submarine and +dropped into the sea not a hundred yards to starboard. The men rushed +Lanyard toward the conning tower. He tried feebly to help them. In that +effort consciousness was altogether blotted out.... + + + + +IX + +SUB SEA + + +When he opened his eyes again he was resting, after a fashion, naked +between harsh, damp blankets in a narrow, low-ceiled bunk inches too short +for one of his stature. + +After an experimental squirm or two he lay very still; his back and all his +limbs were stiff and sore, his bullet-seared shoulder burned intolerably +beneath a rudely applied first-aid dressing, and he was breathing heavily +long, labouring inhalations of an atmosphere sickeningly dank, close, and +foul with unspeakable stenches, for which the fumes of sulphuric acid with +a rank reek of petroleum and lubricating oils formed but a modest and +retiring background. + +Also his head felt very thick and dull. He found it extremely difficult to +think, and for some time, indeed, was quite unable to think to any purpose. + +His very eyes ached in their sockets. + +In the ceiling glowed an electric bulb, dimly illuminating a cubicle barely +big enough to accommodate the bunk, a dresser, and a small desk with a +folding seat. The inner wall was a slightly concave surface of steel plates +whose seams oozed moisture. In the opposite wall was a sliding door, open, +beyond which ran a narrow alleyway floored with metal grating. Everything +in sight was enamelled with white paint and clammy with the sweat of that +foetid air. + +Over all an unnatural hush brooded, now and again accentuated by a rumble +of distant voices and gusts of vacant laughter, once or twice by a curious +popping. For a long time he heard nothing else whatever. The effect was +singularly disquieting and did its bit to quicken torpid senses to grasp +his plight. + +Sluggishly enough Lanyard pieced together fragments of lurid memories, +reconstructing the sequence of last night's events scene by scene to the +moment of his rescue by the U-boat. + +So, it appeared, he was aboard a German submersible, virtually a prisoner, +though posing as an agent of the Personal Intelligence Department of the +German Secret Service. + +To that inspiration of failing consciousness he owed his life, or such +of its span as now remained to him, a term whose duration could only be +defined by his ability to carry off the imposture pending problematic +opportunity to escape. And, assuming that this last were ever offered him, +there was no present possibility of guessing how long it might not be +deferred. + +Its butcher's mission successfully accomplished, the U-boat was not +improbably even now en route for Heligoland, beginning a transatlantic +cruise of weeks that might never end save in a nameless grave at the bottom +of the Four Seas. + +Only the matter of impersonation failed to embarrass in prospect. A natural +linguist, Lanyard's three years within the German lines had put a rare +finish upon his mastery of German. More than this, he was well versed in +the workings of the Prussian spy system. As Dr. Paul Rodiek, Wilhelmstrasse +Agent Number 27, he was safe as long as he found no acquaintance of that +gentleman in the complement of the submarine; for, largely upon information +furnished by Lanyard himself, Dr. Rodiek had been secretly apprehended +and executed in the Tower the day before Lanyard left London to join the +_Assyrian_. + +But the question of the U-boat's present whereabouts and its movements +in the immediate future disturbed the adventurer profoundly. He was +elaborately incurious about Heligoland; and several weeks' association +with the Boche in the close quarters of a submarine was a prospect that +revolted. Wellnigh any fate were preferable.... + +Uncertain footsteps sounded in the alleyway, paused at the entrance to his +cubicle. He turned his head wearily on the pillow. In the doorway stood +a man whose slenderly elegant carriage of a Prussian officer was not +disguised even by his shapeless wreck of a naval lieutenant's uniform, a +man with a countenance of singularly unpleasant cast, leaving out of all +consideration the grease and grime that discoloured it. His narrow forehead +slanted back just a trace too sharply, his nose was thin and overlong, his +mouth thin and cruel beneath its ambitious mustache ŕ la Kaiser; his small +black eyes, set much too close together, blazed with unholy exhilaration. + +As soon as he spoke Lanyard understood that he was drunk, drunk with more +than the champagne of which he presently boasted. + +"Awake, eh?" he greeted Lanyard with a mirthless snarl. "You've slept like +the dead man I took you for at first, my friend--a solid fourteen hours, my +word for it! Feeling better now?" + +Lanyard's essays to reply began and ended in a croak for water. The +Prussian nodded, disappeared, returned with an aluminium cup of stale cold +water mixed with a little brandy. + +"Champagne if you like," he offered, as Lanyard, painfully propping himself +up on an elbow, gulped like an animal from the vessel held to his lips. "We +are holding a little celebration, you know." + +Lanyard dropped back to the pillow, the question in his eyes. + +"Celebrating our success," the Prussian responded. "We got her, and that +means much honour and a long furlough to boot, when we get home, just as +failure would have spelled--I don't like to think what. I shouldn't care to +fill the shoes of those poor devils who let the _Assyrian_ escape them off +Ireland, I can tell you." + +Something very much like true fear flickered in his small eyes as he +pondered the punishment meted out to those who failed. + +So the U-boat was homeward bound! Strange one noticed no motion of her +progress, heard no noise of machinery. + +"Where are we?" Lanyard whispered. + +"Peacefully asleep on the bottom, about five miles south of Martha's +Vineyard, waiting till it is dark enough to slip in to our base." + +"Base?" + +The Prussian hiccoughed and giggled. "On the south shore of the Vineyard," +he confided with alcoholic glee: "snuggest little haven heart could wish, +well to the north of all deep-sea traffic; and the coastwise trade runs +still farther north, through Vineyard Sound, other side the island. Not +a soul ever comes that way, not a soul suspects. How should they? +The admirable charts of the Yankee Coast and Geodetic Survey"--he +sneered--"show no break in the south beach of the island, between the ocean +and the ponds. But there is one. The sea made the breach during a gale, our +people helped with a little Trotyl, tides and storms did the rest. Now we +can enter a secluded, landlocked harbour with just enough water at low +tide, and lie hidden there till the word comes to move again--three miles +of dense scrub forest, all privately owned as a game preserve, fenced and +patrolled, between us and the nearest cultivated land--and friends in +plenty on the island to keep all our needs supplied--petroleum, fresh +vegetables, champagne, all that. Just the same we take no chances--never +make our landfall by day, never enter or leave harbour except at night." + +He paused, contemplating Lanyard owlishly. "Ought not to tell you all +this, I presume," he continued, more soberly, though the wild light still +flickered ominously in his eyes. "But it is safe enough; you will see for +yourself in a few hours; and then ... either you are all right, or you will +never live to tell of it. We radio'd for information about Wilhelmstrasse +Number 27 just before dawn, after we had dodged that damned Yankee +destroyer. Ought to get an answer to-night, when we come up." + +Heavier footsteps rang in the alleyway. The Prussian made a grimace of +dislike. + +"Here comes the commander," he cautioned uneasily. + +A great blond Viking of a German in the uniform of a captain shouldered +heavily through the doorway and, acknowledging the salute of the rat-faced +subaltern with a bare nod, stood looking down at Lanyard in taciturn +silence, hostility in his blood-shot blue eyes. + +"How long since he wakened?" he asked thickly, with the accent of a +Bavarian. + +"A minute or two ago." + +"Why did you not inform me?" + +The tone was offensively domineering, thanks like enough to drink, nerves, +and hatred of his job and all things and persons pertaining to it. + +The subaltern coloured. "He asked for water--I got it for him." + +The commander stared churlishly, then addressed Lanyard: "How are you now?" + +"Very faint," Lanyard said truthfully. But he would have lied had it been +otherwise with him. It was his book to make time in which to collect his +thoughts, concoct a bullet-proof story, plan against an adverse answer to +that wireless enquiry. + +"Can you eat, drink a little champagne?" + +Lanyard nodded slightly, adding a feeble "Please." + +The Bavarian glanced significantly at his subaltern, who hastened to leave +them. + +"Who are you? What is your name?" + +"Dr. Paul Rodiek." + +"Your employment?" + +"Personal Intelligence Bureau--confidential agent." + +"What were you doing on board the _Assyrian_?" + +Lanyard mustered enough strength to look the man squarely in the eye. + +"Pardon," he said coldly. "You must know your question is indiscreet." + +"I must know more about you." + +"It should be enough," Lanyard ventured boldly, "to know that I set off +that flare as arranged, at risk of my life." + +"How came you overboard?" + +"In the scuffle caused by my lighting the flare." + +"So you tell me. But we found you half clothed, lacking any sort of +identification. Am I to accept your unsupported word?" + +"My papers are naturally at the bottom of the sea, in the garments I +discarded lest their weight drag me down. If you have doubts," Lanyard +continued firmly, "it is your privilege to settle them by communicating via +radio with Seventy-ninth Street." + +He shut his eyes wearily and turned his head aside on the pillow, confident +that this reference to the headquarters and secret wireless station of the +Prussian spy system in New York would win him peace for a time at least. + +After a moment the commander uttered a non-committal grunt. "We shall see," +he prophesied darkly, and went away. + +Later, one of the crew brought Lanyard a dish of greasy stew and potatoes, +lukewarm, with bread and a half-bottle of excellent champagne. + +He ate all he could stomach of the first, devoured the second ravenously, +and drained the bottle of its ultimate life-giving drop. + +Then, immeasurably refreshed and fortified in body and spirit, he turned +face to the wall, composed himself as if to sleep, shut his eyes, adjusted +the tempo of his respiration, and lay quite still, wide awake and thinking +hard. + +After a while somebody tramped into the cubicle, bent over Lanyard +inquisitively and, satisfied that he slept, retired, taking away the empty +bottle and dishes. + +Otherwise his meditations were disturbed only by those echoes of revelry +in honour of the late manifestation of the Hun's divine right to do wanton +murder on the high seas. + +The rumour waxed and waned, died into dull mutterings, broke out afresh in +spurts of merriment that held an hysterical note. Once a quarrel sprang up +and was silenced by the commander's deep, unpleasant tones. Corks popped +spasmodically. Again there were sounds much like a man's sobbing; but these +were promptly blared down by a phonograph with a typically American accent. +When that palled, a sentimental disciple of frightfulness sang Tannenbaum +in a melting tenor. + +Everything tended to effect an impression that all, commander and meanest +mechanic alike, were making forlorn efforts to forget. + +Devoutly Lanyard prayed they might be successful, at least until the +submarine made her secret base. If too much alcohol was bad, too much +brooding was infinitely worse for the German temperament. He remembered +one U-boat commander who, returning to the home port after a conspicuously +successful cruise, had been taken ashore in a strait-jacket. + +Lanyard himself did not care to dwell upon those scenes which must have +been enacted on board the _Assyrian_ after the torpedo struck.... + +Deliberately ignoring all else, he set himself the task of reviewing those +events which had led up to his going overboard. + +One by one he considered the incidents of that night, painstakingly +dissected them, examined their every phase in minute analysis, weighing for +ulterior meaning every word uttered in his presence, harking even farther +back to reconstruct his acquaintance with each actor from the very moment +of its inception, seeking that hint which he was convinced must be +somewhere hidden in the history of the affair, waiting only recognition to +lead straightway out of this gloomy maze of mystery into a sunlit open of +understanding. + +In vain: there was an ambiguity in that business to baffle the keenest and +most pertinacious investigation. + +The conduct of Cecelia Brooke alone bristled with inconsistencies +inexplicable, the conduct of the German spies no less. + +To get better perspective upon the problem, he reduced the premises to +their barest summary: + +A valuable dossier brought on board the _Assyrian_ (no matter by whom) had +come into the possession of British agents, with the knowledge of Captain +Osborne. Thackeray had secreted it in that fraudulent bandage. German +agents, apparently under the leadership of Baron von Harden, had waylaid +him, knocked him senseless, unwrapped the bandage, but somehow (probably +in the first instance through the interference of the Brooke girl) had +overlooked the document. Subsequently the Brooke girl had found and +entrusted it to Lanyard. (No matter why!) He on his part had exerted his +utmost inventiveness in hiding it away. Nevertheless it had been discovered +and abstracted within an hour. + +By whom? + +Not improbably by the Brooke girl herself. Repenting her impulsiveness, +after leaving Lanyard with the captain, from whom she had doubtless learned +the truth about "Monsieur Duchemin," she might well have gone directly to +Lanyard's stateroom and hit upon the morphia phial as the likeliest hiding +place without delay, thanks to prior acquaintance with the proportions of +the paper cylinder. + +But why should she have assumed that Lanyard had not disposed of the trust +about his person? + +Not impossibly the thing had been found by the first officer of the +_Assyrian_, searching by order of the captain--as Lanyard assumed he had. + +But, if Mr. Warde had found it, he had not reported his find when +telephoning to Captain Osborne; or else the latter had gone to great +lengths to mystify Lanyard. + +There remained the chance that the paper had been stolen by one of the two +German agents--by either without the knowledge of the other. + +If Baron von Harden had found it--necessarily before Lanyard returned +to the room--he had subsequently been at elaborate pains to conceal his +success from both his victim and his confederate. Why? Did he distrust the +latter? Again, why? + +If "Karl" had been the thief, it must have been after Lanyard's return, +and while the Baron was preoccupied with the task of keeping the prisoner +quiet, to let the search proceed. + +In that event "Karl" had lied deliberately to his superior. Why? Because +the document was salable, and "Karl" intended to realize its value for his +personal benefit? + +Not an unlikely explanation. Nor could this be called the first instance in +which the Prussian spy system, admirably organized though it was, had been +betrayed by one of its own agents. + +This hypothesis, too, accounted for that most perplexing circumstance of +all, the murder of Baron von Harden. For Lanyard was fully persuaded that +had been nothing less than premeditated murder, in no way an accident of +faulty aim. Even the most nervous and unstrung man could hardly have missed +six shots out of seven, point blank. A nervous man, indeed, could hardly +have gained his own consent to take so hideous a chance of injuring or +killing a collaborator. + +It appeared, then, that one of four things had happened to the cylinder of +paper: + +Miss Brooke had taken it back into her own care. In which case Lanyard was +no more concerned. + +Captain Osborne had secured it through Mr. Warde. This, however, Lanyard +did not seriously credit. + +It had gone to the bottom when the _Assyrian_ sank with the body--among +others--of Baron von Harden. + +Or "Karl" had stolen it. + +Privately, indeed, Lanyard rather inclined to hope that the last might +prove to be the true solution. He desired earnestly to meet "Karl" once +more, on equal terms. And the more counts in the score, the greater his +satisfaction in exacting a reckoning in full. + +But he anticipated. That chapter might only too possibly have been closed +forever by the hand of Death. As yet he knew nothing concerning the +mortality of the _Assyrian_ débâcle. He had not enquired of the officers of +the U-boat because they knew little if anything more than he. Their glasses +had discovered to them trouble with the lifeboats; they had spoken of one +boat capsizing, of "people going overboard like cattle." There must have +been many drownings, even with a United States destroyer near by and +speeding to the rescue. + +A single question troubled Lanyard greatly. Officers and crew of the U-boat +had betrayed profoundest consternation upon the advent of that destroyer, +presumably a warship of a neutral nation. And that same ship had without +hesitation fired upon the submarine. + +Was it possible, then, that the United States had already declared war on +Germany? + +It seemed extremely probable; in such event these Germans would have been +notified instantly by wireless from the New York bureau of their country's +Secret Service; whereas, Captain Osborne, receiving the same advice by +wireless, might reasonably have kept it quiet lest the news stir to more +formidable activity those agents of the Wilhelmstrasse whose presence among +the passengers he must at least have strongly suspected. + +Presently the closeness of the atmosphere began to work upon Lanyard's +perceptions. In spite of his long rest, a new drowsiness drugged his +senses. He yielded without struggle, knowing he would soon need every ounce +of strength and vitality that sleep could give him.... + +The din of an inferno startled him awake. Those narrow metal walls were +echoing a clangour of machinery maniacal in character and overpowering in +volume. Clankings, tappings, hissings, coughings, clatterings, stridulation +of a wireless spark, drone of dynamos, shrewdish scolding of Diesel motors +developing two thousand horsepower, individual efforts of some two thousand +valves, combined--or, declined to combine--in a cacophony like nothing +under the sun but the chant of a submersible under way on the surface. + +Lanyard, gratefully aware of a current of fresh air sweeping through the +hold, rolled out of his bunk to find that, while he slept, clothing had +been provided for him, rough but adequate; heavy woollen underwear and +socks, a sweater, a dungaree coat, trousers of the same stuff, all vilely +damp, and a friendless pair of oil-sodden shoes: the sweepings of a dozen +lockers, but as welcome as disreputable. + +Dressed, he turned aft through the alleyway, entering immediately the +central operating room and storm center of that typhoon of noise, a +wilderness of polished machinery in active being. + +Of the score or more leather-clad machinists silent at their posts, none +paid him more heed than a passing, incurious glance as he crossed to a +narrow steel companion ladder and ascended to the conning tower. This he +found deserted; but its deck-hatch was open. He climbed out to the bridge. + +The night was calm and heavily overcast, with no sea more than long, slow +swells. Through its windless quiet the U-boat racketed with the raving +abandon of the Spirit of Discord on a spree in a boiler factory. To the +riot of its internal strife was added the remonstrance of waters sliced by +the stem and flung back by the sides, a prolonged and stertorous hiss like +the rending of an endless sheet of canvas. + +To eyes new from the electric illumination of the hold, the blackness was +positive, with the palpable quality of an element, relieved alone by the +dull glow of the binnacle housing the gyroscope telltale, from which the +faintest of golden reflections struck back to pick out a pair of seemingly +severed fists gripping the handles of the bridge steering wheel with a +singular effect of desperation. + +For some moments Lanyard could see nothing more. + +The mirthless chuckle of the lieutenant sounded at his elbow. + +"So the good Herr Doctor thought he had better come up for air, eh? My +friend, the very dead might envy you the sincerity of your slumbers. We +have been half an hour on the surface, with all this uproar--and you are +only just wakened!" + +"Half an hour?" Lanyard repeated thoughtfully. "Then we should be close +in...." + +"Give us ten minutes more ... if we don't go aground in this accursed +blackness!" + +A broad-shouldered body passed between Lanyard and the binnacle, +momentarily eclipsing its light. Down below in the operating room a bell +shrilled, and of a sudden the Diesels were silenced. + +The dead quiet that followed the sharp extinction of that hubbub was as +startling as the detonation of high explosive had been. + +Through this sudden stillness the submarine slipped stealthily, the hissing +beneath her bows dying down to gentle sibilance. + +From forward the calls of an invisible leadsman were audible. In response +the commander uttered throaty orders to the helmsman at his elbow, and +those unattached hands shifted the wheel minutely. + +Lanyard started to speak, but a growl from the captain, and a touch of the +lieutenant's hand on his sleeve cautioned him to silence. + +There was a small pause. The vessel seemed to have lost way altogether, to +swim like a spirit ship that Stygian tide. The lieutenant moved forward, +leaving Lanyard alone. The voice of the leadsman was stilled. By the wheel +the captain stood absolutely motionless, his body vaguely silhouetted +against the glow of the binnacle. The hands that gripped the wheel so +savagely were as steady as if carven out of stone. An atmosphere of +suspense enveloped the boat like a cloud. + +Lanyard grew conscious of something huge and formidable, a denser shadow in +the darkness beyond the bows, the loom of land. Off to starboard a point +of light appeared abruptly, precisely as if a golden pin had punctured the +black blanket of the night. The captain growled gutturals of relief and +command. The hands on the wheel shifted, steering exceeding small. A second +light shone out to port, then shifted slowly into range with the first, +till the two were as one. Again the bell sang in the operating room, and +the vessel forged ahead quietly to the urge of electric motors alone. A +third light and a fourth appeared, well apart to port and starboard, the +range lights precisely equidistant between them. Between these the U-boat +moved swiftly. They swam back on either hand and were abruptly extinguished +as if the night, resenting their insolent trespass, had gobbled both at a +gulp. + +The temperature became sensibly warmer and the salt air of the sea was +strongly tinctured with the sweet smell of pines and forest mould. + +Up forward carbons sputtered and spat; a searchlight was unsheathed and +carved the gloom as if it was butter, ranging swiftly over the tree-clad +shore of a burnished black lagoon, picking out en passant several unpainted +wooden structures, then steadying on a long and substantial landing stage, +on which several men stood waiting. + + + + +X + +AT BASE + + +As the U-boat, with motors dead and way lessening, glided up alongside +the head of that T-shaped landing stage and was made fast, the wireless +operator popped up from below, saluted the commander, and delivered a +written message. + +Lanyard, instinctively aware that this was the expected report from +Seventy-ninth Street on Dr. Paul Rodiek, quietly pulled himself together +and took quick observations. + +At best his chances in the all-too-probable emergency were far from +brilliant. Yet one might better perish trying, however hopelessly, than +passively submit to being shot down. + +The lieutenant, waspishly superintending the work of crew and base guards +at the mooring lines, stood preoccupied within an arm's length; while the +landing stage was a fair six feet away. From its T-head to the shore, the +distance was nothing less than two hundred yards. + +Desperate action and miraculous luck might take the Prussian by surprise +and enable one to snatch the service automatic from its holster at his +belt, leap to the stage, and shoot a way landward through the guards +clustered there; after which everything would depend on swiftness of foot +and the uncertain light permitting one to gain a refuge in the surrounding +woodland without a bullet in one's back. + +It was a sorry hope.... + +With catlike attention Lanyard watched the hands holding that paper to the +binnacle light--large hands, heavy and muscular but tremulous with drink +and nervous reaction from the long strain and cumulative horror of the +cruise then ending. Their aim would not be good, except by accident. None +the less, if the report were unfavourable, their first gesture would be +toward the holster, signalling to Lanyard that the moment had come to +initiate heroic measures. + +The Bavarian was an unconscionable time absorbing the import of the +message. Bending his face close to the paper, the better to make out the +writing, he read with moving lips, slowly, a doltish frown of concentration +clouding his congested countenance. + +At length, however, he stood up, swaying a little as he folded and pocketed +the paper. + +Lanyard relaxed. The man was too far gone in drink to be crafty, too sure +of his absolute power of life and death to imagine a need for craft. Since +his hand had not immediately sought the holster, it would not. + +Turbid accents uttered the name of Dr. Rodiek. + +Lanyard stepped forward alertly. "Yes, Herr Captain?" + +"New York says it had no knowledge of your intention to leave England on +the _Assyrian_, but that you may well have done so. The Wilhelmstrasse will +know, of course. It has already been telegraphed. Pending its reply, I am +to detain you." + +"How long?" Lanyard demurred. + +"As you know, transatlantic communications must now go by land telegraph to +the Border, by hand into Mexico, thence by radio via Venezuela to Berlin. +All that takes time. Also, we may not signal New York but at stated times +of night. You will be detained another twenty-four hours at least, possibly +longer." + +"My errand cannot wait." + +"It must." + +"You will obstruct the business of the Imperial Government at your peril." + +"I would incur still greater peril did I let you go," the commander replied +nervously. "With these swine-dogs at war with the Fatherland, our lives are +not worth _that_ should this base be betrayed." + +"Do I understand America has declared war?" + +"Two days since. Did you not know?" + +"The _Assyrian's_ wireless room was under guard: the captain published no +bulletins whatever." + +The Bavarian gave a gesture of impatience. + +"You will remain on board for the night," he announced heavily. + +"Pardon!" Lanyard insisted with every evidence of anxious excitement. +"What you tell me makes it more than ever imperative that I reach New York +without an hour's avoidable delay. I warn you, think well before you hinder +the discharge of my duty." + +"It is not necessary that I think," the commander replied. "My thinking has +all been done for me. Me, I obey my orders; it is not my part to question +their wisdom. Moreover, Herr Doctor, to my mind your insistence is to say +the least suspicious. Even had I discretion in the matter, I should hold +you. Therefore, you will keep a civil tongue in your head, or go below in +irons immediately!" + +He swung on his heel, showing an insolent back while he conferred with his +subaltern. + +And Lanyard shrugged appreciation of the futility of more contention +against such mulishness. Not that the Bavarian was not right enough! As to +that, one had really hoped for no better issue; but every shift is worth +trial till proved worthless; and he was no worse off now than if he had +submitted without complaint. Still one had Chance to look to for aid and +comfort in this stress; and Chance, the jade, is not always unkind to her +audacious suitors. + +Even now she flashed upon Lanyard a provoking intimation of her smile. +He began to divine possibilities in this overt ill-feeling between the +officers; advantage might be made of the racial hostility of Prussian and +Bavarian. + +The commander's attitude and tone were consistently overbearing, if his +words were inaudible to Lanyard. The lieutenant quite evidently submitted +only in form; his salute was punctiliously correct and curt; and as the +commander lumbered off down the landing stage, he grumbled indistinctly in +Lanyard's hearing: + +"Dog of a Bavarian!" + +"The good Herr Captain," Lanyard suggested pleasantly, "is not in the most +agreeable of tempers, yes?" + +The high and well-born lieutenant spat comprehensively into the darkness +overside. After a moment of hesitation he moved nearer and spoke in +confidential accents. And the fragrant air of the night was tainted with +the vinous effluvium of his breath. + +"Always he prattles of his precious duty!" the Prussian muttered. "Damn his +duty! Look you, Herr Doctor: months we have been on this cruise, yes, more +than three months out of Heligoland, penned together in this ramshackle +stinkpot, or isolated here in this God-forgotten hole, seeing nothing of +life, hearing nothing of the world but what little the radio tells +us--sick of the very sight of one another's faces! And now, when we have +accomplished a glorious feat and have every right to look for prompt recall +and the rewards of heroes, orders come to remain indefinitely and operate +against the North Atlantic fleet of the contemptible Yankee navy! The life +of a dog! And that noble commander of mine pretends to welcome it, talks +of one's duty to the Fatherland--as if he liked the work any better than +I!--solely to spite me!" + +"But why?" + +"Because he hates me," the lieutenant snarled passionately--"hates me even +as I hate him--he knows how well!" + +He interrupted himself to define his conception of the commander's +character in the freest vernacular of the Berlin underworld. + +Lanyard laughed amiably. "They are like that," he agreed--"those +Bavarians!" + +Which inspired the Prussian to deliver a phosphorescent diatribe on the +racial traits of the Bavarian people as comprehended by the North German +junker. + +"To be cooped up God knows how long in this putrescent death-trap with such +cattle," he concluded mutinously--"it passes all endurance!" + +"I wonder you stand it," Lanyard sympathised--"a man of spirit and good +birth, as one readily perceives. Though the life of a secret agent is not +altogether heavenly either, if you ask me," he added gratuitously. "Regard +me now, charged with a mission of most vital moment--more than ever so +since the Yankees have shown their teeth--delayed here indefinitely because +your excellent Herr Captain chooses to doubt my word." + +"Patience. Maybe your release comes quickly. Then he will regret--or would +had he wit enough. There is no cure for a fool." The sententiousness of +this aphorism was unhappily marred by a hiccough. "Anybody with eyes in his +head could see you are what you are...." + +The last of the operating-room crew piled up the hatchway, saluted, and +hurried ashore to join in noisy jubilations. There remained on the U-boat +only the lieutenant with Lanyard, and two base guards detailed as anchor +watch. + +"I must go," the lieutenant volunteered. "And believe me, one welcomes a +change of clothing and a dry bed after a week in this reeking sieve. As for +you, my friend, if it lay with me, you should receive the treatment due +a gentleman." A wave of maudlin camaraderie affected him. He passed an +affectionate arm through Lanyard's and was suffered, though the gorge of +the adventurer revolted at the familiarity. "I am sorry to leave you. No, +do not be astonished! No protestations, please! It is quite true. I know a +man of the right sort when I meet one, the sort even I can associate with +without loss of self-respect. It is a great pity you may not come with me +and make a night of it." + +"Another time, perhaps," Lanyard said. "The night may yet come when you and +I shall meet at the Metropole or the Admiral's Palace.... Who knows?" + +"Ah!" sighed the Prussian, enchanted. "What a night that will be, my +friend!... But now, it is too bad, I really must ask you to step below. +Such are my silly orders. I am made responsible for you. What do you think +of that for a joke, eh?" + +He laughed vacantly but loudly, and, attempting to poke a derisive thumb +into Lanyard's ribs, lost his balance. + +"What a responsibility!" said Lanyard gravely, holding him up. + +"Nonsense, that's what it is. You have no possible chance to escape." + +"Suppose I make one--tip you overboard, take to my heels--?" + +"You would be shot like a rabbit before you got half way to the shore." + +"Ah, but grant, for the sake of argument, that these brave fellows, the +guards, aim poorly in this gloom?" + +"Where would you go? Into the forest, naturally. But how far? You may +believe me when I tell you, not a hundred yards. It's a true wilderness, +scrub-oak and cedar and second growth choked with underbrush, almost +trackless. In five minutes you would be helplessly lost, in this blackness, +with no stars to steer by. We need only wait till daylight to find you +walking in a circle." + +"You can't mean," Lanyard pursued, learning something helpful every moment, +"there is no communicating road?" + +"The main woods road, yes: but that is far too well patrolled. Without the +countersign, you would be caught or shot a dozen times before you reached +the end of it." + +"Ah, well!"--with the sigh of a philosopher--"then I presume there's no way +out but by swimming." + +"Over to the beach you mean? Well, what then? You have got a twenty-mile +walk either way through deep sand sure to betray your footprints. At dawn +we follow and bag you at our leisure." + +"You are discouraging!" Lanyard complained. "I see I may as well go below +and be good. It's a dull life." + +"Tell you what," giggled the lieutenant, leading his prisoner to the +conning-tower hatch and lowering his voice: "do just that, go below and be +nice, and presently I will come back and we'll split a bottle. What do you +say to that, eh?" + +"Colossal!" + +"Not a bad notion, is it? I like it myself. One gets weary for the society +of a gentleman, you've no idea.... As soon as my commander is drunk enough, +I will slip away. How's that?" + +"Grossartig!" Lanyard approved, turning to descend. + +"Wait. You shall see for yourself what it means to have the friendship of +a man of my stamp." The lieutenant raised his voice, addressing the anchor +watch: "Attention. Heed with care: this gentleman is my friend. He is +detained merely as a matter of form. I do not wish him to be annoyed. Do +you understand? You are to leave him to himself as long as he remains +quietly below. But he is not to come on deck again till I return. Is all +that clear, imbeciles?" + +The imbeciles, saluting mechanically, indicated glimmerings of +comprehension. + +"Then below you go, Dr. Rodiek. And don't get impatient: I will rejoin you +as soon as possible." + +"Don't be long," Lanyard implored. + +As he lowered himself through the hatch he saw the Prussian stumble down +the gangplank and reel shoreward. + +Well satisfied with his diplomacy, Lanyard lingered a while in the conning +tower, closely studying and memorising the more salient features of the +Island of Martha's Vineyard and its adjacent waters and mainland as +delineated on a most comprehensive large-scale chart published by the +German Admiralty from exhaustive soundings and surveys of its own +navigators and typographers, with corrections of as recent date as the +first part of the year 1917. + +Here the breach in the south coast line which permitted the utilisation +of what had formerly been an extensive fresh-water pond as this secret +submarine base, was clearly shown. And a single glance confirmed the +lieutenant's statement concerning its remote isolation from settled +sections of the island. + +Somewhat dismayed, Lanyard descended to the central operating compartment +and scouted through the hold from bow bulkhead to stern, making certain he +enjoyed undisputed privacy. And it was so; every man-jack of the U-boat's +personnel--jaded to the marrow with its cramped accommodations, unremitting +toil and care, unsanitary smells and forbidding associations--having +naturally seized the earliest opportunity to escape so loathsome a prison. + +Lanyard, however, was anything but resentful of condemnation to this +solitary confinement. His interest in the interior arrangements of +submersibles seemed all but feverish, as intense as sudden; witness the +minute attention to detail which marked his second tour of inspection. On +this round he took his time. He had all night in which to work out his +salvation; the wildest schemes were revolving in his mind, the least +fantastic utterly impracticable without accurate knowledge of many matters; +and such knowledge might be gained only through patient investigation and +ungrudging expenditure of time. + +It was now something past ten by the chronometers. He could hardly do much +before dawn, lacking the instinct of a red Indian to guide him through +that night-bound waste of woodland. So he felt little need to slight his +researches through haste, except in anticipation of his lieutenant's +return. And as to that, Lanyard was moderately incredulous: he expected to +see nothing more of this new-found friend, unless the infatuation of the +Prussian proved far stronger than his head. + +Turning first to the private quarters of the commander, a somewhat more +commodious cubicle than that across the alleyway in which Lanyard had been +berthed, his interest was attracted by a small safe anchored to the deck +beneath the desk. + +To this Lanyard addressed himself without hesitation, solving the secret +of its combination readily through exercise of the most rudimentary of +professional principles. The problem it offered, indeed, was child's play +to such cunning of touch and hearing as had made the reputation of the Lone +Wolf. + +Open, the safe discovered to him a variety of articles of interest: +some five thousand dollars in English and American banknotes of large +denomination, several hundred in American gold; three distinct cipher +codes, one of these wholly novel in Lanyard's experience and so, he +believed, in the knowledge of the Allied secret services; the log of the +U-boat and the intimate diary of its commander, both in cryptograph; a +compact directory of German agents domiciled in Atlantic coast ports; a +very considerable accumulation of German Admiralty orders; together with +many documents of lesser moment. + +Rapidly sorting out the more valuable of these, Lanyard disposed them about +his person, then confiscated the banknotes as indemnity for his stolen +money-belt, replaced the rejections, and reclosed and locked the safe. + +His next interest was to arm himself. After several disappointments he +discovered arms-lockers beneath the berths for the crew in the forward +compartment just aft of that devoted to torpedo tubes. Here he selected +a latest pattern German navy automatic pistol with three extra cartridge +clips and, after some hesitation, a peculiarly devilish magazine rifle +firing explosive bullets. The latter he placed handily, yet out of sight, +near the foot of the companion ladder. The pistol fitted snugly a trousers +pocket, its bulk hidden by the sag of his sweater.... + +Some time later the lieutenant, slipping down the ladder, found Lanyard +studying with a convincing aspect of childlike bewilderment the complicated +combinations of machinery which crowded the central operating compartment. + +Fresh from a bath and shave and wearing a clean uniform, the Prussian +showed vast improvement in looks if not in equilibrium. But his mouth +twitched fitfully, his eyes wandered and disclosed a disquieting +superabundance of white, and his tongue was noticeably thicker than before. + +"Well, my friend!" he said--"you are truly disappointing. The watch said +you had made no sound since going below. I was afraid of another of those +famous naps of yours." + +"With the prospect of a bottle with you? Impossible! I have been waiting +and waiting, with my tongue hanging out." + +"Too bad. Why did you not look around, help yourself? Why not?" the +lieutenant demanded. "Have I not given you freedom of ship? It is yours, +everything here 'yours!" + +"I want nothing but an end to this great thirst," Lanyard protested. + +"Then--God in Heaven!--why we standing here? Come!" + +Releasing the handrail the Prussian took careful aim for the alleyway door, +launched himself toward it, slipped on the greasy metal grating, and would +have fallen heavily but for Lanyard. + +Cursing pettishly, he stood up, threw off Lanyard's arms without thanks, +and made a new attempt, this time shooting headlong through the alleyway, +to bring up against the wing table in the third forward compartment, the +kitchen and messroom in one. + +"A great pity," he muttered, opening a locker and fumbling in its +depths--"rotten pity...." + +"What?" + +"Keep you waiting so long. Not my fault." The lieutenant brought forth two +bottles of champagne and one of brandy. "You open them, Herr Doctor, like +'good fellow," he said, placing the three on the table. "I just wish you +'understand no discourtesy meant ... unavoidably detained ... beastly +commander ... drunk. Give 'my word, hopelessly drunk. Poor fool...." + +"If my judgment is sound," Lanyard said, "this noble vessel will soon need +a new commander." + +"True. Quite true." The Prussian placed two aluminium cups upon the table +and half filled one with brandy, then brimmed it with champagne. "Try +that," he said thickly, "That will keep your tail up, my friend." + +"Many thanks," Lanyard protested, filling another cup with undiluted +champagne. "I prefer one thing at a time." + +"Unfortunate ... don't know what is good ... King's peg ... wonderful +drink. No matter. To 'new commander--prosit!" + +He drained his cup at a gulp. + +"To the new commander!" Lanyard echoed, and drank judiciously. +"Excellent.... How long can he last, do you think, at this pace?" + +"No telling--not long--too long for my liking. Shall I tell 'something?" +He filled his cup again, half and half, and sat down, his wicked, rat-like +face more than ever pale and repulsive. "Not 'whisper of this, mind--though +I think 'crew sometimes suspects: he's going mad!" + +"Not that Bavarian?" + +The lieutenant nodded wisely. "If 'knew him as I know him, 'never be +surprised, my friend. You think too much drink. Yes, but not entirely. He +keeps seeing things, hearing them, especially by night." + +"What sort of things?" + +"Faces." The Prussian licked his lips, glanced furtively over his shoulder, +and drank. "Dead faces, eyes eaten out, seaweed in their hair.... And +voices--he's forever hearing voices ... people trying to talk, 'can't +make him understand because 'mouths 'full of water, you know. But they +understand one another, keep discussing how to get at him.... He tells me +about it ... I tell you, it is Hell to hear him talk ... especially when +submerged, as last night. Then he hears them fumbling all over the hull +with their stumpy fingers, trying to find 'way in, talking about him. And +he tells me, and keeps insisting, till sometimes I seem to hear them, too. +But I don't. Before God, I don't! You don't believe I do, do you?" + +His eyes rolled wildly. + +"Why should you?" + +"Just so: why should I?" The lieutenant's accents rose to a shrill pitch. +"I have not his record ... still in training when he sent _Lusitania_ to +the bottom. Yes: it was he, second-in-command, in charge of torpedo tubes. +His own hand fired that torpedo...." + +He fell silent, staring moodily into his cup, perhaps thinking of the +number of torpedoes it had been his own lot to discharge upon errands of +slaughter. + +And the dead silence of the ship was made audible by a stealthy drip-drip +of water from the seams, and the furtive slaver of the tide on the outer +plates. + +A shiver ran through the body of the Prussian. He pulled himself together +with obvious effort, looked up with an uncertain grin, and passed a shaking +hand across his writhing lips. + +"All foolishness, of course, but 'gets on one's nerves ... constant +association with man like that.... 'Know what he's doing now, or was, when +I came away? Sitting up with doors and windows locked and blinds drawn, +drinking brandy neat. He can't sleep by night if sober, or without 'light +in the room. If he does, he knows they will get him ... people he hears +crawling up from the sea, slopping round the house, mumbling, whimpering in +the dark--" + +He broke off abruptly, with a whisper more dreadful than a +shriek--"_God_!"--and jumped to his feet, whipping the automatic from his +belt. + +A footfall sounded in one of the after compartments. Others followed. + +Someone was coming slowly down the alleyway, someone with dragging, heavy +feet. + +The lieutenant waited motionless, as one petrified with terror. + +The bulkhead doorway framed the figure of the commander. He paused there, +louring at his subaltern with haunted eyes ablaze in a face like parchment. + +"So!" he said, nodding. "As I thought. It is thus I find you, fraternising +with one who may be, for all we know, an enemy to the Fatherland. You +drunken, babbling fool! Get ashore!" His angry foot thumped the grating. +"Get ashore, and report yourself under arrest!" + +With no more warning than a strangled snarl, the lieutenant shot him +through the head. + + + + +XI + +UNDER THE ROSE + + +Vague stupefaction replaced the scowl upon the countenance of the +commander. He swayed, a hand faltering to his forehead, where dark blood +was beginning to well from a cleanly drilled puncture. Then he collapsed +completely, falling prone across the raised sill of the bulkhead opening. A +convulsive tremor shook savagely his huge frame. + +Thereafter he was quite still. + +The report of that one shot had reverberated stunningly within those narrow +walls of steel. Momentarily Lanyard looked to see the alarmed anchor watch +appear; so too, apparently, the lieutenant, who remained immobile, pistol +poised in a hand for the moment strangely steady, gaze fixed upon the mouth +of the alleyway. + +But through a long minute no other sounds were audible than that ceaseless +dripping from frames and seams, with that muted, terrible mouthing of +waters on the plates. + +Unable either to fathom or forecast the workings of the drink-maddened +mentality masked by that rat-like face, Lanyard waited with a hand covertly +grasping the automatic in his pocket. There was no telling; at any moment +that murderous mania might veer his way. And he was not content to die, not +yet, not in any event by the hand of a decadent little beast of a Boche. + +Slowly the arm of the lieutenant dropped, lowering the pistol till its +muzzle chattered on the top of the table: a noise that broke the spell upon +his senses. He looked down in dull brutish wonder, then roused and with a +gesture of horror let the weapon fall clattering. + +His glance shifting to the body of his commander, he started violently, +backing up against the plates to put all possible distance between himself +and his handiwork. His lips moved, framing phrases at first incoherent, +presently articulate in part: + +"... _done it at last!... Knew I must soon_...." + +Abruptly he looked up at Lanyard. + +"Bear witness," he cried: "I was provoked beyond human endurance. He +insulted me in your presence ... me!... that scum!" + +Lanyard said nothing, but met his gaze with a blank, non-committal stare, +under which the eyes of the lieutenant wavered and fell. + +Then with a start he realised anew the significance of that still figure at +his feet, and tried to shake some of the swagger back into his wretched, +fear-racked being. + +"A good job!" he muttered defiantly. "And you will stand by me, I know.... +Only there is nothing in that, of course, no justification possible before +a court martial. Even your testimony could not save me ... I am done for, +utterly...." + +He hung his head. Lanyard heard whispered words: "_degraded," "dishonour," +"firing squad_".... + +A chronometer in the central operating compartment tolled eight bells. + +With a sharp cry the lieutenant dropped to his knees. "He can't be dead!" +he shrilled. "It is all play-acting, to frighten me!" + +Frantically he sought to turn the body over. + +Lanyard's hand shot swiftly out, capturing the automatic on the table. With +rapid and sure gestures he extracted and pocketed the clip, drew back the +breech, ejecting into his palm the one shell in the barrel, and replaced +the weapon, all before the Prussian gave over his insane efforts to +resurrect the dead. + +"He is dead enough," he announced, eyeing Lanyard morosely--"beyond +helping.... Look here; are you with me or against me?" + +"Need you ask?" + +"I count on you, then. Good. I think we can cover this up." + +He checked and stood for a while lost in thought. + +"How?" Lanyard roused him. + +"Simply enough: I go on deck, send the watch ashore on some trumped-up +errand. They suspect nothing, thinking the commander and I have you in +charge. If they heard that shot, I will say one of us dropped a bottle +of champagne, and it exploded.... When they are gone, I bring the dory +alongside; and with your help it should be an easy matter to carry this +body up, weight it, row it out to the middle of the lagoon, dump it +overboard. Then we return. Our story is, the commander followed the anchor +watch ashore; if later he wandered off, got lost in the woods in his +alcoholic delirium, that is no affair of ours. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," said Lanyard with a look of fatuous innocence. "But how about +the water--is it deep enough?" + +The Prussian took no pains to dissemble his scorn of this question, +seemingly so witless. "To cover the body? Why, even here there is +sufficient depth at low tide for us to submerge completely, barring the +periscopes. And it is deeper yet in the middle." + +"Thanks," Lanyard replied meekly. + +"Have another drink? No?" The Prussian tossed off a half cupful of +undiluted brandy, and shuddered. "Then stop here. I'll be back in a--" + +"Half a minute." The lieutenant halted in the act of stepping across the +body. Lanyard levelled a hand at the automatic. "Do you mind taking that +with you? I have no desire to be found here with it and a dead man, should +anything prevent your return." + +With a sickly grimace the murderer snatched up the weapon, thrust it in its +holster, and hurriedly departed. + +Lanyard watched him pass through the alleyway and turn toward the companion +ladder, then followed quietly. + +As the lieutenant climbed out on deck, Lanyard ascended to the conning +tower and waited there, listening. He could not quite make out what was +said; but after a few brusque words of command two pair of boots rang on +the gangplank and thumped away down the stage. At the same time Lanyard let +himself noiselessly out through the hatch. + +As soon as his vision grew reconciled to the change from light to darkness, +he discovered the slender figure of the lieutenant skulking on tip-toe +after the retreating anchor watch; about midway on the landing stage, +however, he paused and bent over one of the piles, apparently fumbling with +the painter of a small boat moored in the black shadows below. + +At this Lanyard began to move along the deck, one by one working the +mooring lines clear of their cleats and dropping them gently overboard, +till but two were left to hold the U-boat in place. + +Throughout he kept watch upon the manoeuvres of the lieutenant--saw him +drop over the side of the stage, heard a thump of feet as he landed in a +boat, and a subsequent creak of oar-locks. + +The small boat was rounding the bows of the submarine when the adventurer +ducked back through conning tower to hold. + +He was standing where he had been left when the lieutenant came below. + +"It's all right," this last announced with shabby bravado as he stepped +over the body in the doorway. "We are rid of that damned watch for a time. +They won't return within half an hour at least. I have the dory moored +amidships. If we are lively, this dirty job will be over in no time at +all." + +Lanyard nodded. "I am ready." + +"No need to hurry--plenty of time for one more drink." The Prussian +splashed brandy into the cup, filling it to the brim. "And God knows I need +it!" + +Lanyard watched critically as, with head well back, he drained that +staggering dose of raw spirit gulp by gulp without once removing the cup +from his lips. No mortal man could drink like that and stand up under it: +it was now a mere question of time.... + +Hardly that: the hand of the murderer shook and wavered widely as he put +down the cup. For a moment he swayed with eyes fixed and glazing, features +visibly losing plasticity, then lurched forward, knocking the brandy bottle +to the floor, swung around a full half turn in blind effort to re-establish +equilibrium, fell backward upon the table, and lay racked from head to foot +with savage spasms, hands clawing empty air, chest labouring vainly to win +sufficient oxygen to combat the poison with which his system was saturated. + +Moving to his side, Lanyard laid a hand upon the left breast. The man's +heart was hammering his ribs with agonizing blows, at first rapid, by +degrees more slow and feeble. + +No power on earth could save him now: he had committed suicide as surely as +murder. + +Wasting not another glance or thought upon him Lanyard hurried aft to the +central operating room. + +The time he had spent there, an hour earlier, was by no means lost in +purposeless marvelling. He boasted a certain aptitude for mechanics, +perhaps legitimately inherited from that obscure origin of his, largely +fostered by the requirements of his craft; into the bargain, he had been +privileged ere now to gain some slight insight into the principles of +submersible operation. If obliged to work swiftly and in some instances +upon the advice of intuition rather than practical knowledge, he went not +unintelligently about his task, made few false moves. + +Turning first to the diving controls, he adjusted the hydroplanes to their +extreme downward inclination, then made the rounds of the vent valves, +opening all wide. With a sharp hissing and whistling the air from the +auxiliary tanks was driven inboard, and as Lanyard manipulated the wheels +operating the forward and aft groups of Kingston valves, to the hissing was +added the suck and gurgle of water flooding the main and auxiliary ballast +and adjusting tanks. + +Immediately the U-boat began to sink. Lanyard delayed only to close the +switches which controlled the electric motors. As their drone gained volume +he grasped the rifle and swarmed up the companion-ladder, passing through +the conning tower to deck with little or nothing to spare--with, in fact, +barely time to throw off the two mooring lines and jump into the small boat +before water, sweeping hungrily up over deck and bridge, began to cascade +through conning tower and torpedo hatchways. + +Constrained to cut the painter lest the dory be drawn down with the +fast-sinking submarine, he fitted oars to locks and put his back to them, +swinging the small boat hastily clear of whirlpools which formed as the +waves closed over the spot where the U-boat had rested. + +From first to last less than five minutes' activity had been needed for +the task of scotching this water-moccasin of the salt seas and putting its +keepers at the mercy of the country whose hospitality they had too long +abused. + +Well content, after a little, Lanyard lay on his oars and contemplated with +much interest what the night permitted to be visible: the landing stage, no +more than a dark, vague mass in the darkness; the land picked out with but +few lights, mainly at windows of the base buildings, painting dim ribbons +upon the polished floor of the lagoon. + +Methodically these were eclipsed as a moving figure passed before them. + +Listening intently, Lanyard could distinguish the slow footfalls of an +unsuspecting sentry--no other sounds, more than gentle voices of the night: +murmurs of blind wavelets, the plaintive whisper of a little breeze belated +amid the tree-tops of that dark forest, and a slow, weary soughing of +swells upon the distant ocean shore. + +Perceiving as yet not the slightest indication of an alarm ashore, Lanyard +ventured to continue rowing, but with utmost caution, lifting and dipping +his blades as gingerly as though they were fashioned of brittle glass, and +for want of a better guide keeping the stern of the dory square to the +shank of the T-stage. + +In time the bows grounded lightly on sand. The melancholy voice of the sea +now seemed a heavier sighing in the stillness. He pushed off and rowed on +parallel with a dark shore line, so close in that his starboard oar touched +bottom at each stroke. + +At intervals he paused and rested, striving vainly to garner some clue to +his bearings. Inexorably the blackness forbade that. He might have failed +ere dawn to grope a way out of that trap had not the disappearance of the +submarine been discovered within the hour. + +A sudden clamour rose in the quarter of the landing stage, first one great +shout of dismay, then two voices bellowing together, then others. Several +rifle-shots were fired in the air. More lights broke out in windows ashore. +Many feet drummed resoundingly upon the stage, and the confusion of voices +attained a pitch of wild, hysteric uproar. Of a sudden a flare was lighted +and tossed far out upon the bosom of the lagoon. + +Surprised by that sharp and merciless blue glare, Lanyard instinctively +shipped oars and picked up the rifle. He could see so clearly that +huddle of figures upon the head of the landing stage that he confidently +apprehended being fired upon at any moment; but minutes lengthened and +he was not. Either the Germans were looking for bigger game than a dory +adrift, or the dazzling flare hindered more than aided their vision. + +At length persuaded that he had not been detected, Lanyard put aside the +rifle and resumed the oars. Now his course was made beautifully clear to +him: the blue light showed him that outlet to the sea which he sought +within a hundred yards' distance. + +Presently the flare began to wane. It was not renewed. Altogether unseen, +unsuspected, Lanyard swung the dory into the breach, and drove it seaward +with all his might. + +Swiftly the lagoon was shut out by narrow closing banks. The blue glare +died out behind a black profile of rounded dunes. Lanyard turned the bow +eastward, rowing broadside to the shore. + +After something more than an hour of this mode of progress, he struck in +toward the beach, disembarked in ankle-deep waters, slung the rifle over +his shoulder by its strap and, pushing the dory off, abandoned it to the +whim of the sea. + +Then again he set his face to the east, following the contour of the beach +just within the wash of the tide: thereby making sure that there should +be no trail of footprints in the sand to guide a possible pursuit in the +morning. + +The rising sun found him purposefully splashing on, weary but enheartened +by the discovery that he had left behind the more thickly wooded section of +the island. + +Presently, turning in to the dry beach for the first time, he climbed +to the summit of a dune somewhat higher than its fellows, and took +observations, finding that he had come near to the eastern extremity of the +island. + +At some distance to his right a wagon road, faintly rutted in sand and +overgrown with beach grass, struck inland. + +Following this at a venture, he came, at about eight o'clock, upon the +outskirts of a waterside community. + +Before proceeding he hid the magazine rifle in a thicket, then made a wide +detour, and picked up a roadway which entered the village from the north. + +If his disreputable appearance was calculated to excite comment, readiness +in disbursing money to remedy such shortcomings made amends for Lanyard's +taciturnity. Within two hours, shaved, bathed, and inconspicuously dressed +in a cheap suit of ready-made clothing, he was breakfasting famously upon +the plain fare of a commercial tavern. + +The town, he learned, was the one-time important whaling port of Edgartown. +He would be able to leave for the mainland on a ferry steamer sailing early +in the afternoon. + +Ten minutes before going abroad he filed a long telegram in code addressed +to the head of the British Secret Service in New York.... + +Consequences manifold and various ensued. + +When the telegram had been delivered and decoded--both transactions being +marked by reasonable promptitude--the head of the British Secret Service +in New York called the British Embassy in Washington on the long distance +telephone. + +Shortly thereafter an attaché of the British Embassy jumped into a +motor-car and had himself driven to one of the cardinal departments of the +Federal Government. + +When he had kicked his heels in an antechamber upward of an hour, he was +received, affably enough, by the head of the department, a smug, open-faced +gentleman whose mood was largely preoccupied with illusions of grandeur, +who was, in short, interested far more in considering how splendid it was +to be himself than in hearing about any mare's-nest of a German U-boat base +on the south shore of Martha's Vineyard. + +He was, however, indulgent enough to promise to give the matter his +distinguished consideration in due course. + +He even went so far as to have his secretary make a note of what alleged +information this young Englishman had to impart. + +During the night he chanced to wake up and recall the matter, and concluded +that, all things considered, it would do no harm to give the United States +Navy a little amusement and exercise, even if it should turn out that the +rumour of this submarine base was a canard. + +So, the next morning, he went to his desk some time before noon, and issued +a lot of orders. One of them had to do with the necessity for absolute +secrecy. + +During the day several minor officials of the department might have been, +and indeed were, observed going about their business with painfully +tight-lipped expressions. + +Also many messages were transmitted by wireless, telephone, and telegraph, +to various persons charged with the defense of the Atlantic Coast; some of +these were code messages, some were not. + +That same night a great forest fire sprang up on the south shore of +Martha's Vineyard, both preceded and accompanied by a series of heavy +explosions. + +The first United States vessel to reach the lagoon found only charred +remains of a landing stage and several buildings and, at the bottom of the +lagoon, an incoherent mass of wreckage, a twisted and shattered chaos of +steel plates and framework that might possibly have been a perfectly sound +submarine, though sunken, had somebody not been warned in ample time +to permit its destruction through the agency of trinitrotoluene, that +enormously efficient modern explosive nicknamed by British military and +naval experts "T.N.T.," and by the Germans "Trotyl." + + + + +XII + +RESURRECTION + + +The early editions of those New York evening newspapers which Lanyard +purchased in Providence, when he changed trains there en route from New +Bedford to New York, carried multi-column and most picturesque accounts of +the _Assyrian_ disaster. + +But the whole truth was in none. + +Lanyard laid aside the last paper privately satisfied that, for no-doubt +praiseworthy reasons of its own, Washington had seen fit to dictate the +suppression of a number of extremely pertinent circumstances and facts +which could hardly have escaped governmental knowledge. + +Already, one inferred, a sort of censorship was at work, an effective if +comparatively modest precursor to that noble volunteer committee which was +presently with touching spontaneity to fasten itself upon an astonished +Ship of State before it could gather enough way to escape such cirripede +attachments. + +Presumably it was not thought wise to disconcert a great people, in the +complacence of its awakening to the fact that it was remotely at war with +the Hun, with information that a Boche submersible was, or of late had +been, operating in the neighbourhood of Nantucket. + +Unanimously the sinking of the _Assyrian_ was ascribed to an internal +explosion of unknown origin. No paper hinted that German secret agents +might possibly have figured incogniti among her passengers. There was +mention neither of the flare which had burned on her after deck to make +the _Assyrian_ a conspicuous target in the night, nor of any of the other +untoward events which had led up to the explosion. Nothing whatever +was said of the shot fired at the submerging U-boat by a United States +torpedo-boat destroyer speeding to the rescue. + +Still, the bare facts alone were sufficiently appalling. Reading what had +been permitted to gain publication, Lanyard experienced a qualm of horror +together with the thought that, even had he drowned as he had expected to +drown, such a fate had almost been preferable to participation in those +awful ten minutes precipitated by that pale messenger of death which had so +narrowly missed Lanyard himself as he rested on the bosom of the sea. + +Within ten minutes after receiving her coup de grâce the _Assyrian_ had +gone under; barely that much time had been permitted a passenger list of +seventy-two and a personnel of nearly three hundred souls in which to rouse +from dreams of security and take to the lifeboats. + +Thanks to the frenzied haste compelled by the swift settling of the ship, +more than one boat had been capsized. Others had been sunk--literally +driven under--by masses of humanity cascading into them from slanting +decks. Others, again, had never been launched at all. + +The utmost efforts of the destroyer, fortuitously so near at hand, had +served to rescue but thirty-one passengers and one hundred and eighty of +the crew. + +In the list of survivors Lanyard found these names: + + Becker, Julius--New York + Brooke, Cecelia--London + Crane, Robert T.--New York + Dressier, Emil--Geneva + O'Reilly, Edmund--Detroit + Putnam, Bartlett--Philadelphia + Velasco, Arturo--Buenos Aires + +Among the injured, Lieutenant Lionel Thackeray, D.S.O., was listed as +suffering from concussion of the brain, said to have been contracted +through a fall while attempting to aid the launching of a lifeboat. + +In the long roster of the drowned these names appeared: + + Bartholomew, Archer--London + Duchemin, André--Paris + Von Harden, Baron Gustav--Amsterdam + Osborne, Captain E. W.--London + +Of all the officers, Mr. Sherry was a solitary survivor, fished out of the +sea after going down with his ship. + +No list boasted the name "Karl." + +Lacking accommodations for the rescued, it was stated, the destroyer had +summoned by wireless the east-bound freight steamship _Saratoga_, which had +trans-shipped the unfortunates and turned back to New York.... + +Throughout the best part of that journey from Providence to New York +Lanyard sat blankly staring into the black mirror of the window beside +his chair, revolving schemes for his immediate future in the light of +information derived, indirectly as much as directly, from these newspaper +stories. + +Retrospective consideration of that voyage left little room for doubt that +the designs of the German agents had been thoughtfully matured. They had +been quiet enough between their first stroke in the dark and their last, +between the burglary of Cecelia Brooke's stateroom the first night out and +those murderous attacks on Bartholomew and Thackeray. Unquestionably, +had they bided their time pending that hour when, according to their +information, the submersible would be off Nantucket, awaiting their signal +to sink the _Assyrian_--a signal which would never have been given had +their plans proved successful, had they not made the ship too hot to hold +them, and finally had they not made every provision for their own escape +when the ship went down. + +Lanyard was confident that all of their company had been warned to hold +themselves ready, and consequently had come off scot free--all, that is, +save that victim of treachery, the unhappy Baron von Harden. + +If the number of that group which Lanyard had selected as comprising a +majority of his enemies, those nine who had discussed the Lone Wolf in the +smoking room, was now reduced to five--Becker, Dressier, O'Reilly, Putnam, +and Velasco--or four, eliminating Putnam, of whose loyalty there could be +no question--Lanyard still had no means of knowing how many confederates +among the other passengers these four might not have had. + +And even four men who appreciated what peril to their plans inhered in the +Lone Wolf, even four made a ponderable array of desperate enemies to have +at large in New York, apt to be encountered at any corner, apt at any time +to espy and recognise him without his knowledge. + +This situation imposed upon him two major tasks of immediate moment: he +must hunt down those four one by one and either satisfy himself as to their +innocence of harmful intent or put them permanently _hors de combat_; and +he must extinguish utterly, once and for all time, that amiable personality +whose brief span had been restricted to the decks of the _Assyrian_, +Monsieur André Duchemin. + +That one must be buried deep, beyond all peradventure of involuntary +resurrection. + +Fortunately the last step toward the positive metamorphosis indicated had +been taken that very morning, when the Gallic beard of Monsieur Duchemin +was erased by the razor of a New England barber, whose shears had likewise +eradicated every trace of a Continental mode of hair-dressing. There +remained about Lanyard little to remind of André Duchemin but his eyes; and +the look of one's eyes, as every good actor knows, is something far more +easy to disguise than is commonly believed. + +But it was hardly in human nature not to mourn the untimely demise of so +useful a body, one who carried such beautiful credentials and serviceable +letters of introduction, whose character boasted so much charm with a +solitary fault--too facile vulnerability to the prying eyes of those to +whom Paris meant those days and social strata in which Michael Lanyard +had moved and had his being. Witness--according to Crane--the demoniac +cleverness of the Brazilian in unmasking the Duchemin incognito. + +Suspicion was taking form in Lanyard's reflections that he had paid far +too little attention to Seńor Arturo Velasco of Buenos Aires, whose +avowed avocation of amateur criminologist might easily be synonymous with +interests much less innocuous. + +Or why had Velasco been so quick to communicate recognition of Lanyard to +an employee of the United States Secret Service? + +For that matter, why had he felt called so publicly to descant upon the +natural history of the Lone Wolf? In order to focus upon that one the +attentions of his enemies? Or to put him on guard? + +It was altogether perplexing. Was one to esteem Velasco friend or foe? + +Lanyard could comfort himself only with the promise he should one day know, +and that without undue delay. + +Alighting in Grand Central Terminus late at night, he made his way to +Forty-second Street and there, in the staring headlines of a "Late Extra," +read the news that the steamship _Saratoga_ had suffered a crippling +engine-room accident and was limping slowly toward port, still something +like eighteen hours out. + +Wondering if it were presumption to construe this as an omen that the stars +in their courses fought for him, Lanyard went west to Broadway afoot, all +the way beset with a sense of incredulity; it was difficult to believe that +he was himself, alive and at large in this city of wonder and space, where +people moved at leisure and without fear on broad streets that resembled +deep-bitten channels for rivers of light. He was all too wont with nights +of dread and trembling, with the mediaeval gloom that enwrapped the cities +of Europe by night, their grim black streets desolate but for a few, +infrequent, scurrying shapes of fright.... While here the very beggars +walked with heads unbowed, and men and women of happier estate laughed and +played and made love lightly in the scampering taxis that whisked them +homeward from restaurants of the feverish midnight. + +A people at war, actually at grips with the Blond Beast, arrayed to +defend itself and all humanity against conquest by that loathsome incubus +incarnate, a people heedless, carefree, irresponsible, refusing to credit +its peril.... + +Here and there a recruiting poster, down the broad reaches of Fifth Avenue +a display of bunting, no other hint of war-time spirit and gravity.... + +Longacre Square, a weltering lake of kaleidoscopic radiance, even at this +late hour thronged with carnival crowds, not one note of sobriety in the +night.... + +Lanyard lifted a wondering gaze to the livid sky whose far, clear stars +were paled and shamed by the up-flung glare, like eyes of innocence peering +down into a pit of hell. + +Inscrutable! + +Yet one could hardly be numb to the subtle, heady intoxication of those +cool, immaculate, sea-sweet airs which swept the streets, instilling +self-confidence and lightness of spirit even in heads shadowed with the woe +of war-worn Europe. + +Lanyard had not crossed the Avenue before he found himself walking with a +brisker stride, holding his own head high.... + +On impulse, despite the lateness of the hour, albeit with misgivings +justified in the issue, he hailed a taxicab and had himself driven to the +headquarters of the British Secret Service in America, an unostentatious +dwelling on the northwest corner of West End Avenue at Ninety-fifth Street. + +Here a civil footman answered the door and Lanyard's enquiries with the +information that Colonel Stanistreet had unexpectedly been called out +of town and would not return before evening of the next day, while his +secretary, Mr. Blensop, had gone to a play and might not come home till all +hours. + +More impatient than disappointed, Lanyard climbed back into his cab, and in +consequence of consultation with its friendly minded chauffeur, eventually +put up for the night in an Eighth Avenue hotel of the class that made +Senator Raines famous, a hostelry brazenly proclaiming accommodations "for +gentlemen only," whereas it offered entertainment for both man and beast +and catered rather more to beast than to man. + +However, it served; it was inconspicuous and made no demands upon a shabby +traveller sans luggage, more than payment in advance. + +Early abroad, Lanyard breakfasted with attention fixed to the advertising +columns of the _Herald_, and by mid-morning was established as sub-tenant +of a furnished bachelor apartment on Fifty-eighth Street near Seventh +Avenue, a tiny nest of few rooms on the street level, with entrances from +both the general lobby and the street direct: an admirable arrangement for +one who might choose to come and go without supervision or challenge. + +Lacking local references as to his character, Lanyard was obliged to pay +three months' rent in advance in addition to making a substantial deposit +to cover possible damage to the furnishings. + +His name, a spur-of-the-moment selection, was recorded in the lease as +Anthony Ember. + +At noon he brought to his lodgings two trunks salvaged from a storage +warehouse wherein they had been deposited more than three years since, on +the eve of his flight with his family from America, an affair of haste and +secrecy forbidding the handicap of heavy impedimenta. + +Thus Lanyard became once more possessor of a tolerably comprehensive +wardrobe. + +But, those trunks released more than his personal belongings; intermingled +were possessions that had been his wife's and his boy's. As he unpacked, +memories peopled those perfunctorily luxurious lodgings of the transient +with melancholy ghosts as sweet and sad as lavender and rue. + +For hours on end the man sat idle, head bowed down, hands plucking +aimlessly at small broidered garments. + +And if in the sweep and turmoil of late events he seemed to have forgotten +for a little that feud which had brought him overseas, he roused from this +brief interlude of saddened dreaming with the iron of deadly purpose newly +entered into his soul, and in his heart one dominant thought, that now his +hour with Ekstrom could not, must not, be long deferred. + +In the street there rose an uproar of inhuman bawling. Lanyard went to the +private door, hailed one of the husky authors of the din, an itinerant +news-vendor, and disbursed a nickel coin for one cent's worth of spushul +uxtry and four cents' worth of howling impudence. + +He found no more of interest in the newspaper than the information that the +_Saratoga_ had been sighted off Fire Island and was expected to dock in New +York not later than eight o'clock that night. + +This, however, was acceptable reading. Lanyard had work to do which were +better done before "Karl" and his crew found opportunity to communicate +directly with their collaborators ashore, work which it were unwise +to initiate before nightfall lent a cloak of shadows to hoodwink the +ever-possible adventitious German spy. + +Nor was he so fatuous as to fancy it would profit him to call before nine +o'clock at the house on West End Avenue. No earlier might he hope to find +Colonel the Honourable George Fleetwood-Stanistreet near the end of his +dinner, and so in a mood approachable and receptive. + +But there could be no harm in reconnaissance by daylight. + +He whiled away the latter part of the afternoon in taxicabs, by dint of +frequent changes contriving in the most casual fashion imaginable to pass +the Seventy-ninth Street branch of the Wilhelmstrasse no less than four +times. + +Little rewarded these tactics other than a fairly accurate mental +photograph of the building and its situation--and a growing suspicion that +the United States Government had profited nothing by England's lessons +of early war days in respect of the one way to cope with resident enemy +aliens. + +The house stood upon a corner, occupying half of an avenue block--the +northern half of which was the site of a towering apartment house in +course of construction--and loomed over its lesser neighbours a monumental +monstrosity of architecture, as formidable as a fortress, its lower tiers +of windows barred with iron, substantial iron grilles ready to bar its +main entrance, even heavier gates guarding the carriage court in the +side street. In all a stronghold not easy for the most accomplished +house-breaker to force; yet the heart of it was Lanyard's goal; for there, +he believed, Ekstrom (under whatever _nom de guerre_) lay hidden, or if not +Ekstrom, at least a clear lead to his whereabouts. + +Certainly that one could not be far from the powerful wireless station +secretly maintained on the roof of this weird jumble of architectural +periods, its aërials cunningly hidden in the crowning atrocity of its +minaret: a station reputedly so powerful that it could receive Berlin's +nightly outgivings of news and orders, and, in emergency, transmit them to +other secret stations in Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela. + +Yet the shrewdest scrutiny of eyes trained to detect police agents at +sight, however well disguised, failed to espy one sign of any sort of +espionage upon this nest of rattlesnakes. + +Apparently its tenants came and went as they willed, untroubled by and +contemptuous of governmental surveillance. + +A handsome limousine car pulled up at its carriage block as Lanyard drove +by, one time, and a pretty woman, exquisitely gowned, alighted and was +welcomed by hospitable front doors that opened before she could ring: a +woman Lanyard knew as one of the most daring, diabolically clever, and +unscrupulous creatures of the Wilhelmstrasse, one whose life would not have +been worth an hour's purchase had she ventured to show herself in Paris, +London, or Petrograd at any time since the outbreak of the war. + +He drove on, deep in amaze. + +Indications were not wanting, on the other hand, that enemy spies +maintained close watch upon the movements of those who frequented the house +on West End Avenue. A German agent whom Lanyard knew by sight was strolling +by as his taxi rounded its corner and swung on down toward Riverside Drive. + +This more modest residence possessed a brick-walled garden at the back, on +the Ninety-fifth Street side. And if the top of the wall was crusted with +broken glass in a fashion truly British, it had a door, and the door a +lock. And Lanyard made a note thereon. + +And when he went home to dress for dinner, he opened up the false bottom +of one of his trunks and selected from a store of cloth-wrapped bundles +therein one which contained a small bunch of innocent-looking keys whose +true _raison d'ętre_ was anything in the world but guileless. + +Later he did himself very well at Delmonico's, enjoying for the first time +in many years a well-balanced dinner faultlessly cooked and served amid +quiet surroundings that carried memory back half a decade to the Paris that +was, the Paris that nevermore will be.... + +At nine precisely he paid off a taxicab at the corner of Ninety-fifth +Street. + +While waiting on the doorstep of the corner house, he raked the street +right and left with searching glances, and was somewhat reassured. +Apparently he called at an hour when the Boche pickets were off duty; at +the moment there was no pedestrian visible within a block's distance +on either hand, nobody that he could see skulked in the areas of the +old-fashioned brownstone houses across the way. + +The neighbourhood was, indeed, quiet even for an upper West Side +residential quarter. A block over to the east Broadway was strident in the +flood of its nocturnal traffic; a like distance to the west Riverside Drive +hummed with pleasure cars taking advantage of the first bland night of that +belated spring. But here, now that the taxi had wheeled away, there was +never a car in sight, nor even a strolling brace of sidewalk lovers. + +The door opened, revealing the same footman. + +"Colonel Stanistreet? I will see, sir." + +Lanyard entered. + +"If you will be kind enough to be seated," the footman suggested, +indicating a small waiting room. "And what name shall I say?" + +It had been Lanyard's intention to have himself announced simply as the +author of that telegram from Edgartown. Obscure impulse made him change his +mind, some premonition so tenuous as to defy analysis. + +"Mr. Anthony Ember." + +"Thank you, sir." + +After a little the footman returned. + +"If you will come this way, sir...." + +He led toward the back of the house, introducing Lanyard to a spacious +apartment, a library uncommonly well furnished, rather more than +comfortably yet without a trace of ostentation in its complete luxury, a +warm room, a room intimately lived in, a room, in short, characteristically +British in atmosphere. + +Waist-high bookcases lined the walls, broken on the right by a cheerful +fireplace with a grate of glowing cannel coal, in front of it a great club +lounge upholstered, like all the chairs, in well-used leather. Opposite the +chimney-piece, a handsome thing in carved oak, a door was draped with a +curtain that swung with it. In the back of the room two long and wide +French windows stood open to the night, beyond them that garden whose +wall had attracted Lanyard's attention. There were a number of paintings, +portraits for the most part, heavily framed, with overhead picture-lights. +In the middle of the room was a table-desk, broad and long, supporting a +shaded reading lamp. On the far side of the table a young man sat writing, +with several dockets of papers arranged before him. + +As Lanyard entered, this one put down his pen, pushed back his chair, and +came round the table: a tallish, well-made young man, dressed a shade too +foppishly in spite of an unceremonious dinner coat, his manner assured, +amiable, unconstrained, perhaps a little over-tolerant. + +"Mr. Ember, I believe?" he said in a voice studiously musical. + +"Yes," Lanyard replied, vaguely annoyed with himself because of an +unreasoning resentment of this musical quality. "Mr. Blensop?" + +"I am Mr. Blensop," that one admitted gracefully. "And how may I have the +pleasure of being of service?" + +He waved a hand toward an easy chair beside the table, and resumed his own. +But Lanyard hesitated. + +"I wished to see Colonel Stanistreet." + +Mr. Blensop looked up with an indulgent smile. His face was round and +smooth but for a perfectly docile little moustache, his lips full and red, +his nose delicately chiselled; but his eyes, though large, were set cannily +close together. + +"Colonel Stanistreet is unfortunately not at home. I am his secretary." + +"Yes," said Lanyard, still standing. "In that case I'd be glad if you would +be good enough to make an appointment for me with Colonel Stanistreet." + +"I am afraid he will not be home till very late to-night, but--" + +"Then to-morrow?" + +Mr. Blensop smiled patiently. "Colonel Stanistreet is a very busy man," he +uttered melodiously. "If you could let me know something about the nature +of your business...." + +"It is the King's," said Lanyard bluntly. + +The secretary went so far as to betray well-bred surprise. "You are an +Englishman, Mr. Ember?" + +"Yes." + +And for all he knew to the contrary, so Lanyard was. + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet's secretary," the young man again suggested +hopefully. + +"That is precisely why I ask you to make an appointment for me with your +employer," Lanyard retorted politely. + +"You won't say what you wish to see him about?" + +A trace of asperity marred the music of those tones; Mr. Blensop further +indicated distaste of the innuendo inherent in Lanyard's use of the word +"employer" by delicately wrinkling his nose. + +"I am sorry," Lanyard replied sufficiently. + +The door behind him opened, and the footman intruded. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop...." + +"Yes, Walker?" + +The servant advanced to the table and proffered a visiting card on a tray. +Mr. Blensop took it, arched pencilled brows over it. + +"To see me, Walker?" + +"The gentleman asked for Colonel Stanistreet, sir." + +"H'm.... You may show him in when I ring." + +The footman retired. Mr. Blensop looked up brightly, bending the card with +nervous fingers. + +"You were saying your business was...?" + +"I was not," Lanyard replied with disarming good humour. "I'm afraid that +is something much too important and confidential to reveal even to Colonel +Stanistreet's secretary, if you don't mind my saying so." + +Mr. Blensop did mind, and betrayed vexation with an impatient little +gesture which caused the card to fly from his fingers and fall face +uppermost on the table. Almost instantly he recovered it, but not before +Lanyard had read the name it bore. + +"Of course not," said the secretary pleasantly, rising. "But you understand +my instructions are rigid ... I'm sorry." + +"You refuse me the appointment?" + +"Unless you can give me an inkling of your business--or perhaps bring a +letter of introduction." + +"I can do neither, Mr. Blensop," said Lanyard earnestly. "I have +information of the gravest moment to communicate to the head of the British +Secret Service in this country." + +The secretary looked startled. "What makes you think Colonel Stanistreet is +connected with the British Secret Service?" + +"I don't think so; I know it." + +After a moment of hesitation Mr. Blensop yielded graciously. "If you can +come back at nine to-morrow morning, Mr. Ember, I'll do my best to persuade +Colonel Stanistreet--" + +"I repeat, my business is of the most pressing nature. Can't you arrange +for me to see your employer to-night?" + +"It is utterly impossible." + +Lanyard accepted defeat with a bow. + +"To-morrow at nine, then," he said, turning toward the door by which he had +entered. + +"At nine," said Mr. Blensop, generous in triumph. "But do you mind going +out this way?" + +He moved toward the curtained door opposite the chimney-piece. Lanyard +paused, shrugged, and followed. Mr. Blensop opened the door, disclosing a +vista of Ninety-fifth Street. + +"Thank _you_, Mr. Ember. _Good_-night," he intoned. + +The door closed with the click of a spring latch. + +Lanyard stood alone in the street, looking swiftly this way and that, his +hand closing upon that little bunch of keys in his pocket, his humour +lawless. + +For the name inscribed on that card which Mr. Blensop had so carelessly +dropped was one to fill Lanyard with consuming anxiety for better +acquaintance with its present wearer. + +Written in pencil, with all the individual angularity of French +chirography, the name was André Duchemin. + + + + +XIII + +REINCARNATION + + +It took a little time and patience but, on his third essay, Lanyard found +a key which agreed with the lock. He permitted himself a sigh of relief; +Ninety-fifth Street was bare, the door set flush with the outside of the +wall afforded no concealment to the trespasser, while the direct light of a +street lamp at the corner made his lonely figure uncomfortably conspicuous. + +Apparently, however, he had not been observed. + +Gently pushing the door open, he slipped in, as gently closed it, then for +a full minute stood stirless, spying out the lay of the land. + +Fitting precisely his anticipations, the garden discovered a fine English +flavour; it was well-kept, modest, fragrant and, best of all, quite dark, +especially so in the shadow of the street wall. Only a glimmer of starlight +enabled him to pick out the course of a pebbled footpath. A border of deep +turf between this and the wall muffled his footsteps as he moved toward the +back of the house. + +The library windows, deeply recessed, opened on a low, broad stoop of +concrete, with a pergola effect above, and a few wicker pieces upon a grass +mat underfoot. + +Noiselessly Lanyard stepped across the low sill and paused in the cover of +heavy draperies, commanding a tolerably full view of the library if one +somewhat unsatisfactory, since the light within was by no means bright. +Still, this circumstance had its advantages for him; with his dark topcoat +buttoned to the throat and its collar turned up to hide his linen, he was +confident he would not be detected unless he gave his presence away by an +abrupt movement--something which the Lone Wolf never made. + +At the moment Mr. Blensop seemed to be engaged in the surprising occupation +of discoursing upon art to his caller. + +The latter occupied that chair which Lanyard had refused, on the far side +of the table. Thus placed, the lamplight masked more than revealed him, +throwing a dull glare into Lanyard's eyes. His man sat in a pose of earnest +attention, bending forward a trifle to follow the exposition of Mr. +Blensop, who stood beneath a portrait on the wall between the chimney-piece +and the windows, his attitude incurably graceful, a hand on the switch +controlling the picture-light. Apparently he had just finished speaking, +for he paused, looking toward his guest with a quiet and intimate smile as +he turned off the light. + +"And that's all there is to it," he declared, moving back to the table. + +"I see," said the other thoughtfully. + +Lanyard felt himself start almost uncontrollably: rage swept through him, +storming brain and body, like a black squall over a hill-bound lake. For +the moment he could neither see or hear clearly nor think coherently. + +For the voice of this latest incarnation of André Duchemin was the voice of +"Karl." + +When the tumult of his senses subsided he heard Blensop saying, "I'll +write it out for you," and saw him pick up a pad and pencil and jot down a +memorandum. + +"There you are," he added, ripping off the sheet and passing it across the +table. "Now you can't go wrong." + +"I precious seldom do," his caller commented drily. + +"I think--" Blensop began, and checked sharply as the man Walker came into +the room. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop--" + +There was an accent of impatience in those beautifully modulated tones: +"Well, what is it now?" + +"A lady to see you, sir." + +Blensop took the card from the proffered salver. "Never heard of her," he +announced brusquely at a glance. "She asked for Colonel Stanistreet or for +me?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, sir. But when I said he was not at home, she asked to +see his secretary." + +"Any idea what she wants?" + +"She didn't say, sir--but she seemed much distressed." + +"They always are. H'm.... Young and good-looking?" + +"Quite, sir." + +"Dessay I may as well see her," said Mr. Blensop wearily. "Show her in when +I ring." + +Walker shut himself out of the room. + +"It's just as well," Blensop added to his caller. "You understand, my clear +fellow--?" + +"Assuredly." The man got up; but Blensop contrived exasperatingly to keep +between him and the windows. "I'm to be back at midnight?" + +"Twelve sharp; you'll be sure to find him here then. Mind leaving by this +emergency exit?" + +"Not in the least." + +"Then _good_-night, my dear Monsieur Duchemin!" + +Was there a hint of irony in Blensop's employment of that style? Lanyard +half fancied there was, but did not linger to analyse the impression. +Already the secretary had opened the side door. + +In a bound Lanyard cleared the stoop, then ran back to the door in the +wall. But with all his quickness he was all too slow; already, as he +emerged to Ninety-fifth Street, his quarry was rounding the Avenue corner. + +Defiant of discretion, Lanyard gave chase at speed but, though he had not +thirty yards to cover, again was baffled by the swiftness with which "Karl" +got about. + +He had still some distance to go when the peace of the quarter was +shattered by a door that slammed like a pistol shot, and with roaring +motor and grinding gears a cab swung away from the curb in front of the +Stanistreet residence and tore off down the Avenue. + +Swearing petulantly in his disappointment, Lanyard pulled up on the corner. +The number on the license plate was plainly revealed as the vehicle showed +its back to the street lamp. But what good was that to him? He memorised +it mechanically, in mutinous appreciation of the fact that the taxi was +setting a pace with which he could not hope to compete afoot. + +The rumble of another motor-car caught his ear, and he looked round +eagerly. A second taxicab--undoubtedly that which had brought the young +woman now presumably closeted with Mr. Blensop--was moving up into the +place vacated by the first. + +In two strides Lanyard was at its side. + +"Follow that taxi!" he cried--"number seventy-six, three-eighty-five. Don't +lose sight of it, but don't pass it--don't let them know we're following!" + +"Engaged," the driver growled. + +"Hang your engagement! Here"--Lanyard pressed a golden eagle into the +fellow's palm--"there will be another of those if you do as I say!" + +"Le's go!" the driver agreed with resignation. + +If the cab was moving before Lanyard could hop in and shut the door, the +other had already established a killing lead; and though Lanyard's man +demonstrated characteristic contempt for municipal regulations governing +the speed of motor-driven vehicles, and racketed his own madly down the +Avenue, he was wholly helpless to do more than keep the tail-lamp of the +first in sight. + +More than once that dull red eye seemed sardonically to wink. + +Still, Lanyard did not think "Karl" knew he was pursued. His conveyance had +passed the corner before Lanyard emerged from the side street. There being +no reason that Lanyard knew of why the spy should believe himself under +suspicion, his haste seemed most probably due to natural desire to avoid +adventitious recognition, coupled with, no doubt, other urgent business. + +At Seventy-second Street the chase turned east, with Lanyard two blocks +behind, and for a few agonizing moments was altogether lost to him. But at +Broadway the tide of southbound traffic hindered it momentarily, and it +swung into that stream with its pursuer only a block astern. + +Thereafter through a ride of another mile and a half, the distance between +the two was augmented or abbreviated arbitrarily by the rules of the road. + +At one time less than two cab-lengths separated them; then a Ford, driven +Fordishly, wandered vaguely out of a crosstown street and hesitated in the +middle of the thoroughfare with precisely the air of a staring yokel on +a first visit to the city; and Lanyard's driver slammed on the emergency +brake barely in time to escape committing involuntary but justifiable +flivvercide. + +When he was able once more to throw the gears into high, the chase was a +long block ahead. + +They were entering Longacre Square before he made up that loss. + +And at Forty-fourth Street, again, a stream of east-bound cars edged in +between the two, reducing Lanyard's driver to the verge of gibbering +lunacy. + +A car resembling "Karl's" was crossing Broadway at Forty-second Street when +Lanyard was still on Seventh Avenue north of the Times Building. + +But only a minute later his driver pulled up in front of the Hotel +Knickerbocker, and Lanyard, peering through the forward window, saw the +number 76-385 on the license plate of a taxicab drawing away, empty, from +the curb beneath the hotel canopy. + +He tossed the second gold piece to the driver as his feet touched the +sidewalk, and shouldered through a cluster of men and women at the main +entrance to the lobby. + +That rendezvous of Broadway was fairly thronged despite the slack +mid-evening hour, between the dinner and the supper crushes; but Lanyard +reviewed in vain the little knots of guests and loungers; if "Karl" were +among them, he was nobody whom Lanyard had learned to know by sight on +board the _Assyrian_. + +With as little success he searched unobtrusively all public rooms on the +main floor. + +It was, of course, both possible and probable that "Karl," himself a guest +of the hotel, had crossed directly to the elevators and been whisked aloft +to his room. + +With this in mind, Lanyard paused at the desk, asked permission to examine +the register and, being accommodated, was somewhat consoled; if his chase +had failed of its immediate objective, it now proved not altogether +fruitless. A majority of the _Assyrian_ survivors seemed to have elected to +stop at the Knickerbocker. One after another Lanyard, scanning the entries, +found these names: + + Edmund O'Reilly--Detroit + Arturo Velasco--Buenos Aires + Bartlett Putnam--Philadelphia + Cecelia Brooke--London + Emil Dressier--Genčve + +Half inclined to commit the imprudence of sending a name up to Miss +Brooke--any name but André Duchemin, Michael Lanyard, or Anthony +Ember--together with a message artfully worded to fix her interest without +giving comfort to the enemy, should it chance to go astray, the adventurer +hesitated by the desk; and of a sudden was satisfied that such a move would +be not only injudicious but waste of time; for, now that he paused to think +of it, he surmised that the young woman--"young and good-looking", on +Walker's word--who had called to see Colonel Stanistreet was none other +than this same Cecelia Brooke. + +What more natural than that she should make early occasion to consult the +head of the British Secret Service in America? + +A pity he had not waited there in the window! If he had, no doubt the +mystery with which the girl had surrounded herself would be no more mystery +to Lanyard; he would have learned the secret of that paper cylinder as well +as the part the girl had played in the intrigue for its possession, and so +be the better advised as to his own future conduct. + +But in his insensate passion for revenge upon one who had all but murdered +him, he had forgotten all else but the moment's specious opportunity. + +With a grunt of impatience Lanyard turned away from the desk, and came face +to face with Crane. + +The Secret Service man was coming from the direction of the bar in company +with Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier. + +Of the three last named but one looked Lanyard's way, O'Reilly, and his +gaze, resting transiently on the countenance of André Duchemin minus the +Duchemin beard, passed on without perceptible glimmer of recognition. + +Why not? Why should it enter his head that one lived and had anticipated +his own arrival in New York by twenty hours whom be believed to be buried +many fathoms deep off Nantucket? + +As for Crane, his cool gray, humorous eyes, half-hooded with their heavy +lids, favoured Lanyard with casual regard and never a tremor of interest +or surprise; but as he passed his right eye closed deliberately and with a +significance not to be ignored. + +To this Lanyard responded only with a look of blankest amaze. + +Chatting with an air of subdued self-congratulation pardonable in such +as have come safe to land through many dangers of the deep, the quartet +strolled round the desk and boarded one of the elevators. + +Not till its gate had closed did Lanyard stir. Then he went away from there +with all haste and cunning at his command. + +The route through the café to Broadway offered the speediest and least +conspicuous of exits. From the side door of the hotel he plunged directly +into the mouth of the Subway kiosk and, chance favouring him, managed to +purchase a ticket and board a southbound local train an instant before its +doors ground shut. + +Believing Crane would take the next elevator down, once he had seen the +others safely in their rooms, Lanyard was content to let him find the lobby +destitute of ghosts, to let him fume and wonder and think himself perhaps +mistaken. + +The last thing he desired was entanglement with the American Secret +Service. For Crane he entertained personal respect and temperate liking, +thought the man socially an amusing creature, professionally a deadly peril +to one who had a feud to pursue. + +Leaving the train at Grand Central, the adventurer passed through the back +ways of the Terminus, into the Hotel Biltmore, upstairs to its lobby, +thence out by the Vanderbilt Avenue entrance, walking through Forty-fourth +Street to Fifth Avenue, where he chartered a taxicab, gave the address +of his lodgings, and lay back in the corner of its seat satisfied he had +successfully eluded pursuit and very, very grateful to the Subway system +for the facilities it afforded fugitives like himself through its warren of +underground passages. + +One thing troubled him, however, without respite: the Brooke girl was on +his conscience. To her he owed an accounting of his stewardship of that +trust which she had reposed in him. It was intolerable in his understanding +that she should be permitted to go one unnecessary hour in ignorance of the +truth about that business--the truth, that is, as far as he himself knew +it. + +If through Crane or in some unforseeable fashion she were to learn that +André Duchemin lived, she would think him faithless. If she knew that +Duchemin had been one with Michael Lanyard, the Lone Wolf, she would not be +surprised. But that, too, was intolerable; even the Lone Wolf had his code +of honour. + +Again, if she remained in ignorance of the fact that Lanyard had escaped +drowning, she would continue to believe her secret at the bottom of the sea +with him; whereas, in the hands of the enemy, in the possession of "Karl" +and his, confederates, it was potentially Heaven only knew how dangerous a +weapon. + +Abruptly Lanyard reflected that at least one doubt had been eliminated by +that encounter in the Knickerbocker. It was barely possible that "Karl" had +gone to the bar on entering and added himself to Crane's party, but it +was hardly creditable in Lanyard's consideration. He was convinced that, +whether or not Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier were parties to the Hun +conspiracy, none of these was "Karl." + +As for the Brooke matter, he felt it incumbent upon him immediately to find +some safe means of communicating with the girl. She could be trusted not to +betray him to the police, however much she might at first incline to doubt +him. But he would persuade her of his sincerity, never fear! + +The telephone offered one solution of his difficulty, an agency +non-committal enough, provided one were at pains not to call from one's +private station, to which the call might be traced back. + +With this in mind he stopped and dismissed his taxicab at Fifty-seventh +Street and Sixth Avenue, and availed himself of a coin-box telephone booth +in the corner druggist's. + +The experience that followed was nothing out of the ordinary. Lanyard, +connected with the Knickerbocker promptly, with the customary expenditure +of patience laboriously spelled out the name B-r-double-o-k-e, and was told +to hold the wire. + +Several minutes later he began to agitate the receiver hook and was +eventually rewarded with the advice that the Knickerbocker operator, being +informed his party was in the rest'runt, was having her paged. + +Still later the central operator told him his five minutes was up and +consented to continue the connection only on deposit of an additional +nickel. + +Eventually, in sequel to more abuse of the hook, he received this response +from the Knickerbocker switchboard: "Wait a min'te, can't you? Here's your +party." + +Lanyard was surprised at the eagerness with which he cried: "Hello!" + +A click answered, and a bland voice which was not the voice he had expected +to hear: "Hello? That you, Jack?" + +He said wearily: "I am waiting to speak with Miss Cecelia Brooke." + +"Oh, then there _must_ be some mistake. This is Miss _Crooke_ speaking." + +Lanyard uttered a strangled "Sorry!" and hung up, abandoning further effort +as hopeless. + +That matter would have to stand over till morning. + +Time now pressed: it was nearly eleven; he had a rendezvous with Destiny to +keep at midnight, and meant to be more than punctual. + +Walking to his apartment house, he proceeded to establish an alibi by +entering through the public hallway and registering with the telephone +attendant a call for seven o'clock the next morning. + +In the course of the next half hour Lanyard let himself quietly out of the +private door, slipped around the block and boarded a Riverside Drive bus. + +Alighting at Ninety-third Street, he walked two blocks north on the Drive, +turned east, and without misadventure admitted himself a second time to the +Stanistreet garden. + + + + +XIV + +DEFAMATION + + +It was hardly possible to watch Mr. Blensop functioning in his vocational +capacity without reflecting on that cruel injustice which Nature only too +often practises upon her offspring in secreting most praiseworthy qualities +within fleshy envelopes of hopelessly frivolous cast. + +The flowing gestures of this young man, his fluting accents, poetic eyes, +and modestly ingratiating moustache, the preciosity of his taste in dress, +assorted singularly with an austere devotion to duty rare if unaffected. + +Beyond question, whether or not naturally a man of studious and +conscientious temper, Mr. Blensop figured to admiration in the role of such +an one. + +Seated, the shaded lamplight an aureole for his fair young head, he wrought +industriously with a beautiful gold-mounted fountain pen for fully five +minutes after Lanyard had stolen into the draped recess of the French +window, pausing only now and again to take a fresh sheet of paper or +consult one of the sheaves of documents that lay before him. + +At length, however, he hesitated with pen lifted and abstracted gaze +focussed upon vacancy, shook a bewildered head, and rose, moving directly +toward the windows. + +For as long as thirty breathless seconds Lanyard remained in doubt; there +was the barest chance that in his preoccupation Blensop might pass through +to the garden without noticing that dark figure flattened against the +inswung half of the window, in the dense shadow of the portičre. Otherwise +the game was altogether up; Lanyard could see no way to avoid the necessity +of staggering Blensop with a blow, racing for freedom, abandoning utterly +further effort to learn the motive of "Karl's" impersonation of Duchemin. + +He gathered himself together, waited poised in readiness for any +eventuality--and blessed his lucky stars to find his apprehensions idle. + +Three paces from the windows, Mr. Blensop made it plain that he was after +all not minded to stroll in the garden. Pausing, he swung a high-backed +wing chair round to face the corner of the room, switched on a reading +lamp, sat down and selected a volume of some work of reference from the +well-stocked book shelves. + +For several minutes, seated within arm's length of the trespasser, he +studied intently, then with a cluck of satisfaction replaced the volume, +extinguished the light, and went back to his writing. + +But presently he checked with a vexed little exclamation, shook his pen +impatiently, and fixed it with a frown of pained reproach. + +But that did no good. The cussedness of the inanimate was strong in this +pen: since its reservoir was quite empty it mulishly refused more service +without refilling. + +With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Blensop found a filler in one of the desk +drawers, and unscrewed the nib of the pen. + +This accomplished, he paused, listened for a moment with head cocked +intelligently to one side, dropped the dismembered implement, and got up +alertly. At the same moment the door to the hallway opened, and two women +entered, apparently sisters: one a lady of mature and distinguished charm, +the other an equally prepossessing creature much her junior, the one +strongly animated with intelligent interest in life, the other a listless +prey to habitual ennui. + +To these fluttered Mr. Blensop, offering to relieve them of their wraps. + +"Permit me, Mrs. Arden," he addressed the elder woman, who tolerated him +dispassionately. "And Mrs. Stanistreet ... I say, aren't you a bit late?" + +"Frightfully," assented Mrs. Stanistreet in a weary voice. "It must be all +of midnight." + +"Hardly that, Adele," said Mrs. Arden with a humorous glance. + +"Dinner, the play, supper, and home before twelve!" commented Blensop, +shocked. "I say, that is going some, you know." + +"George would insist on hurrying home," the young wife complained. +"Frightfully tiresome. We were so comfy at the Ritz, too...." + +"The Crystal Room?" Dissembled envy poisoned Blensop's accents. + +"Frightfully interestin'--everybody was there. I did so want to +dance--missed you, Arthur." + +"I say, you didn't, did you, really?" + +"Poor Mr. Blensop!" Mrs. Arden interjected with just a hint of malice. +"What a pity you must be chained down by inexorable duty, while we fly +round and amuse ourselves." + +"I must not complain," Blensop stated with humility becoming in a dutiful +martyr, a pose which he saw fit quickly to discard as another man came +briskly into the room. "Ah, good evening, Colonel Stanistreet." + +"Evening, Blensop." + +With a brusque nod, Colonel Stanistreet went straightway to the desk, +stopping there to take up and examine the work upon which his secretary had +been engaged: a gentleman considerably older than his wife, of grave and +sturdy cast, with the habit of standing solidly on his feet and giving +undivided attention to the matter in hand. + +"Anything of consequence turned up?" he enquired abstractedly, running +through the sheets of pen-blackened paper. + +"Three persons called," Blensop admitted discreetly. "One returns at +midnight." + +Stanistreet threw him a keen look. "Eh!" he said, making swift inference, +and turned to his wife and sister-in-law. "It is nearly twelve now. Forgive +me if I hurry you off." + +"Patience," said Mrs. Arden indulgently. "Not for worlds would I hinder +your weighty affairs, dear old thing, but I sleep more sound o' nights when +I know my trinkets are locked up securely in your safe." + +With a graceful gesture she unfastened a magnificent necklace and deposited +it on the desk. + +"Frightful rot," her sister commented from the doorway. "As if anybody +would dare break in here." + +"Why not?" Mrs. Arden enquired calmly, stripping her fingers of their +rings. + +"With a watchman patrolling the grounds all night--" + +"Letty is sensible," Stanistreet interrupted. "Howson's faithful enough, +and these American police dependable, but second-storey men happen in the +best-guarded neighbourhoods. Be advised, Adele: leave your things here with +Letty's." + +"No fear," his wife returned coolly. "Too frightfully weird...." + +She drifted across the threshold, then hesitated, a pretty figure of +disdainful discontent. + +"But really, Colonel Stanistreet is right," Blensop interposed vivaciously. +"What do you imagine I heard to-night? The Lone Wolf is in America!" + +"What is that you say?" Mrs. Arden demanded sharply. + +"The Lone Wolf ... Fact. Have it on most excellent authority." + +"The Lone Wolf!" Mrs. Stanistreet drawled. "If you ask me, I think the Lone +Wolf nothing in the world but a scapegoat for police stupidity." + +"You wouldn't say that," Mrs. Arden retorted, "if you had lived in Paris as +long as I. There, in the dear old days, we paid that rogue too heavy a tax +not to believe in him." + +"Frightful nonsense," insisted the other. "I'm off. 'Night, Arthur. Shall +you be long, George?" + +"Oh, half an hour or so," her husband responded absently as she +disappeared. + +With a little gesture consigning her jewellery, heaped upon the desk, to +the care of her brother-in-law, Mrs. Arden uttered good-nights and followed +her sister. + +Blensop bowed her out respectfully, shut the door and returned to the desk. + +"What's this about the Lone Wolf?" Stanistreet enquired, sitting down to +con the papers more intently. + +"Oh!" Blensop laughed lightly. "I was merely repeating the blighter's own +assertion. I mean to say, he boasted he was the Lone Wolf." + +"Who boasted he was the Lone Wolf?" + +"Chap who called to-night, giving the name of Duchemin--André Duchemin. Had +French passports, and letters from the Home Office recommending him rather +highly. Useful creature, one would fancy, with his knowledge of the right +way to go about the wrong thing. What? Ought to be especially helpful to us +in hunting down the Hun over here." + +"Is this the man who returns at midnight?" + +"Yes, sir. I thought it best to make the appointment." + +"Why?" + +"He said he had crossed on the _Assyrian_, said it significantly, you know. +I fancied he might be the person you have been expecting." + +Stanistreet looked up with a frown. "Hardly," he said--"if, that is, he is +really what he claims to be. I wonder how he came by those letters." + +"Does seem odd, doesn't it, sir? A confessed criminal!" + +"An extraordinary man, by all accounts.... Those other callers--?" + +"Nobody of importance, I should say. A man who gave his name as Ember and +got a bit shirty when I asked his business. Told him you might consent to +see him at nine in the morning." + +"And the other?" + +"A young woman--deuced pretty girl--also reticent. What was her name? +Brooke--that was it: Cecelia Brooke." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet exclaimed, dropping the papers. "What did you say +to her?" + +"What could I say, sir? She refused to divulge a word about her business +with us. I told her--" + +Warned by a gesture from Colonel Stanistreet, Blensop broke off. Walker was +opening the door. + +"Well, Walker?" + +"A Mr. Duchemin, sir, says Mr. Blensop made an appointment with you for +twelve to-night." + +"Show him in, please." + +The footman shut himself out. Blensop clutched nervously at Mrs. Arden's +jewels. + +"Hadn't I better put these in the safe first?" + +"No--no time." Stanistreet opened a drawer of the desk--"Here!"--and closed +it as Blensop hastily swept the jewellery into it. "Safe enough there--as +long as he doesn't know, at all events. But don't forget to put them away +after he goes." + +"No, sir." + +Again the door opened. Walker announced: "Mr. Duchemin." Stanistreet rose +in his place. A man strode in with the assurance of one who has discounted +a cordial welcome. + +Through the gap which he had quietly created between the portičre and the +side of the window, Lanyard stared hungrily, and for the second time that +night damned heartily the inadequate light in the library. + +The impostor's face, barely distinguishable in the up-thrown penumbra +of the lampshade, wore a beard--a rather thick, dark beard of negligent +abundance, after a mode popular among Frenchmen--above which his features +were an indefinite blur. + +Lanyard endeavoured with ill success to identify the fellow by his +carriage; there was a perceptible suggestion of a military strut, but that +is something hardly to be termed distinctive in these days. Otherwise, he +was tall, quite as tall as Lanyard, and had much the same character of +body, slender and lithe. + +But he was "Karl" beyond question, confederate and murderer of Baron von +Harden, the man who had thrown the light bomb to signal the U-boat, +the brute with whom Lanyard had struggled on the boat deck of the +_Assyrian_--though the latter, in the confusion of that struggle, had +thought the German's beard a masking handkerchief of black silk. + +Now by that same token he was no member of that smoking-room coterie upon +which Lanyard's suspicions had centered. + +On the other hand, any number of passengers had worn beards, not a few of +much the same mode as that sported by this nonchalant fraud. + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits to aid a laggard memory, haunted by a +feeling that he ought to know this man instantly, even in so poor a light. +Something in his habit, something in that insouciance which so narrowly +escaped insolence, was at once strongly reminiscent and provokingly +elusive.... + +Pausing a little ways within the room, the fellow clicked heels and bowed +punctiliously in Continental fashion, from the hips. + +"Colonel Stanistreet, I believe," he said in a sonorous voice--"Karl's" +unmistakable voice--"chief of the American bureau of the British Secret +Service?" + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet," that gentleman admitted. "And you, sir--?" + +"I have adopted the name of André Duchemin," the impostor stated. "With +permission I retain it." + +Colonel Stanistreet inclined his head slightly. "As you will. Pray be +seated." + +He dropped back into his chair, while "Karl" with a murmur of +acknowledgment again took the armchair on the far side of the desk, where +the lamp stood between him and the secret watcher. + +"My secretary tells me you have letters of introduction...." + +"Here." Calmly "Karl" produced and offered those purloined papers. + +"You will smoke?" Stanistreet indicated a cigarette-box and leaned back to +glance through the letters. + +During a brief pause Blensop busied himself with collecting together the +documents which had occupied him and began reassorting them, while "Karl," +helping himself to a cigarette, smoked with manifest enjoyment. + +"These seem to be in order," Stanistreet observed. "I note from this code +letter that your true name is Michael Lanyard, you were once a professional +French thief known as 'The Lone Wolf', but have since displayed every +indication of desire to reform your ways, and have been of considerable +use to the Intelligence Office. I am desired to employ your services in my +discretion, contingent--pardon me--upon your continued good behaviour." + +"Precisely," assented "Karl." + +"Proceed, Monsieur Duchemin." + +"It is an affair of some delicacy.... Do we speak alone, Colonel +Stanistreet?" + +"Mr. Blensop is my confidential secretary...." + +"Oh, no objection. Still--if I may venture the suggestion--those windows +open upon a garden, I take it?" + +"Yes. Blensop, be good enough to close the windows." + +"Certainly, sir." + +Stepping delicately, Blensop moved toward the end of the room. + +Again Lanyard was confronted with the alternatives of incontinent flight or +attempting to remain undetected through the adoption of an expedient of the +most desperate audacity. He had prepared against such contingency, he did +not mean to go; but the feasibility of his contemplated manoeuvre depended +entirely upon chance, its success in any event was forlornly problematic. + +"Karl" remained hidden from him by the lamp, so he from "Karl." Colonel +Stanistreet, facing his caller, sat half turned away from the windows. +Everything rested with Blensop's choice, which of the two windows he would +elect first to close. + +A right-handed man, he turned, as Lanyard had foreseen, to the right, and +momentarily disappeared in the recess of the farther window. + +In the same instant Lanyard slipped noiselessly from behind the portičre, +and dropped into that capacious wing chair which Blensop had thoughtfully +placed for him some time since. + +Thus seated, making himself as small and still as possible, he was wholly +concealed from all other occupants of the library but Blensop; and even +this last was little likely to discover him. + +He did not. He closed and latched the farther window, then that wherein +Lanyard had lurked, and ambled back into the room with never a glance +toward that shadowed corner which held the wing chair. + +And Lanyard drew a deep breath, if a quiet one. Behind him the conversation +had continued without break. It was true, he could see nothing; but he +could hear all that was said, he had missed no syllable, and now every +second was informing him to his profit.... + +"Your secretary, no doubt, has told you I am a survivor of the _Assyrian_ +disaster." + +"Yes...." + +"You were, I believe, expecting a certain communication of extraordinary +character by the _Assyrian_, to be brought, that is, by an agent of the +British Secret Service." + +After an almost imperceptible pause Stanistreet said evenly: "It is +possible." + +"A communication, in fact, of such character that it was impossible to +entrust it to the mails or to cable transmission, even in code." + +"And if so, sir...?" + +"And you are aware that, of the two gentlemen entrusted with the care of +this document, one was drowned when the _Assyrian_ went down, and the other +so seriously injured that he has not yet recovered consciousness, but +was transferred directly from the pier to a hospital when the _Saratoga_ +docked." + +"What then, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet," said the impostor deliberately, "I have that +communication. I will ask you not to question me too closely as to how it +came into my possession. I have it: that is sufficient." + +"If you possess any document which you conceive to be so valuable to the +British Government, monsieur, and consequently to the Allied cause, I have +every confidence in your intention to deliver it to me without delay." + +A note of mild derision crept into the accents of "Karl." + +"I have every intention of so doing, my dear sir.... But you must +appreciate I have incurred considerable personal danger, hardship, and +inconvenience in taking good care of this document, in seeing that it did +not fall into the wrong hands; in short, in bringing it safely here to you +to-night." + +A slightly longer pause prefaced Stanistreet's reply, something which +he delivered in measured tones: "I am able to promise you the British +Government will show due appreciation of your disinterested services, +Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"Not disinterested--not that!" the cheat protested. "Gentlemen of my +kidney, sir, seldom put themselves out except in lively anticipation of +favours to come." + +"Be good enough to make yourself more clear." + +"Cheerfully. I possess this document. I understand its character is such +that Germany would pay a round price for it. But I am a good patriot. In +spite of the fact that nobody knew I possessed it, in spite of the fact +that I need only have quietly taken it to Seventy-ninth Street to-night--" + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" Stanistreet's voice was icy. "Your price?" + +"Sorry you feel that way about it," said "Karl" with ill-concealed +insincerity. "You must know thieving is no more what it once was. Even I, +too, often am put to it to make both ends--" + +"If you please, sir--how much?" + +"Ten thousand dollars." + +Silence greeted this demand, a lull that to Lanyard seemed endless. For in +his fury he was trembling so that he feared lest his agitation betray him. +The very walls before his eyes seemed to quake in sympathy. He was aware of +the ache of swollen veins in his temples, his teeth hurt with the pressure +put upon them, his breath came heavily, and his nails were digging +painfully into his palms. + +"Blensop?" + +"Sir?" + +"How much have we on hand, in the emergency fund?" + +"Between ten and twelve thousand dollars, sir." + +"Intuition, monsieur, is an indispensable item in the equipment of a +successful _chevalier d'Industrie_. So, at least, the good novelists tell +us...." + +"Open the safe, Blensop, and fetch me ten thousand dollars." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I presume you won't object to satisfying me that you really have this +document, before I pay you your price." + +"It is this which makes it a pleasure to deal with an Englishman, monsieur: +one may safely trust his word of honour." + +"Indeed...." + +"Permit me: here is the document. Use that magnifying glass I see by your +elbow, monsieur; take your time, satisfy yourself." + +"Thanks; I mean to." + +Another break in the dialogue, during which the eavesdropper heard an +odd sound, a sort of muffled swishing ending in a slight thud, then the +peculiar metallic whine of a combination dial rapidly manipulated, finally +the dull clank of bolts falling back into their sockets. + +"Your _coffre-fort_--what do you say?--strong-box--safe--is cleverly +concealed, Colonel Stanistreet." + +There was no direct reply, but after a moment Stanistreet announced +quietly: "This seems to be an authentic paper.... Monsieur Duchemin, what +knowledge precisely have you of the nature of this document?" + +"Surely monsieur cannot have overlooked the circumstance that its seals +were intact." + +"True," Stanistreet admitted. "Still...." + +"I trust Monsieur does not question my good faith?" + +"Why not?" Stanistreet enquired drily. + +"Monsieur!" + +"Oh, damn your play-acting, sir! If you can be capable of one infamy, you +are capable of more. None the less, you are right about an Englishman's +word: here is your money. Count it and--get out!" + +"Thanks"--the impostor's tone was an impertinently exact imitation of +Stanistreet's--"I mean to." + +"Permit me to excuse myself," Stanistreet added; and Lanyard heard the +muffled scrape of chair-legs on the rug as the Englishman got up. + +"Gladly," the spy returned--"and ten thousand thanks, monsieur!" + +The secretary intoned melodiously: "This way, Monsieur Duchemin, if you +please." + +"Pardon. Is it material which way I leave?" + +"What do you mean?" Stanistreet demanded. + +"I should be far easier in my mind if monsieur would permit me to go by way +of his garden, rather than run the risk of his front door." + +"What's this?" + +"In these little affairs, monsieur, I try to make it a rule to avoid +covering the same ground twice." + +"You have the insolence to imply I would lend myself to treachery!" + +"I beg monsieur's pardon very truly for suggesting such a thing. +Nevertheless, one cannot well be overcautious when one is a hunted man." + +"Blensop ... be good enough to see this man out through the garden." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Again, monsieur, my thanks." + +"Good-night," said Stanistreet curtly. + +Blensop passed Lanyard's chair, unlatched and opened the window and stood +aside. An instant later "Karl" joined him, swung on a heel, facing back, +clicked heels again and bowed mockingly. Apparently he got no response, for +he laughed quietly, then turned and went out through the window, Blensop +mincing after. + +With a struggle Lanyard mastered the temptation to dash after the spy, +overtake and overpower him, expose and give him up to justice. Only the +knowledge that by remaining quiescent, by biding his time, he might be +enabled to redeem his word to the Brooke girl, gave him strength to be +still. + +But he suffered exquisitely, maddened by the defamation imposed upon his +nick-name of a thief by this brazen impostor. + +Nor was wounded _amour-propre_ mended by an exclamation in the room behind +his chair, the accents of Colonel Stanistreet thick with contempt: + +"The Lone Wolf! Faugh!" + + + + +XV + +RECOGNITION + + +Presently Blensop came back, closed the window, and passed blindly by +Lanyard, his reappearance saluted by Stanistreet in tones that shook with +contained temper. + +"You saw that animal outside the walls?" + +Mildly injured surprise was indicated in the reply: "Surely, sir!" + +"And locked the door after him?" + +"Yes, sir--securely." + +"Howson anywhere about?" + +"I didn't see him. Daresay he's prowling somewhere within call. Do you wish +to speak to him?" + +"No.... But you might, if you see anything of him, tell him to keep an +extra eye open to-night. I don't trust this self-styled Lone Wolf." + +"Naturally not, sir, under the circumstances." + +Stanistreet acknowledged this with an irritated snort. "No matter," he +thought aloud; "if it has cost us a pretty penny, we have got this safe in +hand at last. I've not had too much sleep, I can promise you, since the +report came through of Bartholomew's death and Thackeray's disablement. +Nor am I satisfied that this Monsieur Duchemin came by the document +fairly--confound his impudence! If he hadn't put me on honour, tacitly, I'd +not hesitate an instant about informing the police." + +"Rather chancy course to take in this business, what?" + +"I don't know.... That Yankee invention known as the 'frame-up' would +easily make America too small for the Lone Wolf without the British Secret +Service ever being mentioned in the matter." + +"Yes; but suppose the beast knows the contents of this paper, suspects +the authorship of the 'frame-up'--as he instinctively would--and blabs? +Messages have been unsealed and copied and resealed before this." + +"That one consideration ties my hands.... Here, my boy: take this and +put it in the safe--and don't forget Mrs. Arden's things, of course. +Good-night." + +"Trust me, sir. Good-night." + +A door closed with a slight jar, and for half a minute the room was so +positively quiet that Lanyard was beginning to wonder if Blensop himself +had gone out with his employer, when he heard a low and musical chuckle, +followed by a soft clashing as the secretary scooped Mrs. Arden's jewellery +out of the desk drawer. + +Itching with curiosity, Lanyard turned with infinite care and peered round +the wing of the chair, thus gaining a view of the wall farthest from the +street. + +Blensop remaining invisible, Lanyard's interest centred immediately upon +the safe the ingenuity of whose concealment had excited "Karl's" favourable +comment, and with much excuse. + +One of the portraits--that upon whose merits Blensop had descanted to +"Karl" earlier in the night--was, Lanyard saw, so mounted upon a solid +panel of wood that, by means of hidden mechanism, it could be moved +sidelong from its frame, uncovering the face of a safe built into the wall. + +This last now stood open, its door, swung out toward Lanyard, showing +a simple arrangement of dials and locks with which he was on terms of +contemptuous familiarity; only the veriest tyro of a cracksman would want +more than a good ear and a subtle sense of touch in order to open it +without knowledge of the combination. + +With all its reputation for efficiency and astuteness the British Secret +Service entrusted its mysteries to an antiquated contraption such as this! + +Humming a blithe little air, Blensop moved into Lanyard's field of vision +and stopped between him and the safe, deftly pigeonholing therein the +docketed papers and Mrs. Arden's jewels. Then, closing the door, he shot +its bolts, gave the dial a brisk twirl, located a lever in the side of the +frame and thrust it into its socket. + +With the same swish and thud which had puzzled Lanyard at first hearing, +the portrait slipped back into place. + +Rounding on a heel, Blensop paused, head to one side, a slight frown +shadowing his bland countenance, and stood briefly rooted in some +perplexity of obscure origin. Twice he shook a peevish head, then smiled +radiantly and brought his hands together in an audible clap. + +"I have it!" he cried in delight and, dancing briskly toward the desk, once +more disappeared. + +Now what was this which Mr. Blensop so spontaneously had, and from the +having of which he derived so much apparently innocent enjoyment? Wanting +an answer, Lanyard settled back in disgust, then sat sharply forward, gaze +riveted to the near sash of the adjacent window. + +In showing "Karl" out, Blensop had moved the portičres, exposing more +glass than previously had been visible. Now this mirrored darkly to the +adventurer a somewhat distorted vision of Blensop standing over the +desk, seemingly employed in no more amusing occupation than filling his +fountain-pen. But undoubtedly he was in the highest spirits; for the lilt +of his humming rose sweet and clear and ever louder. + +To this accompaniment he pocketed his pen, two-stepped to the windows, +drew the portičres jealously close, returned to the desk, switched off the +reading lamp, and left the room completely dark but for a dim glow from the +ash-filmed embers of the fire. + +But before he went out the secretary interrupted his humming to laugh +with a mischievous élan which completely confounded Lanyard. He was not +unacquainted with the Blensop type, but the secret glee which seemed to +animate this specimen was something far beyond his comprehension. + +As the door softly closed Lanyard moved silently across the room and bent +an ear to its panels, meanwhile drawing over his hands a pair of thin white +kid gloves. + +From beyond came no sound other than a faint creaking of stair-treads +quickly silenced. + +Opening the door, Lanyard peered out, finding the hallway deserted and +dimly lighted by a single bulb of little candle-power at its far end, then +scouted out as far as the foot of the stairs, listened there for a little, +hearing no sounds above, and reconnoitred through the other living rooms, +at length returning to the library persuaded he was alone on the ground +floor of the house. + +A Yale lock was fixed to the library side of the door. Lanyard released its +catch, insuring freedom from interruption on the part of anybody who lacked +the key, crossed to the other side door, left this on the latch and, having +thus provided an avenue for escape, turned attention to business, in brief, +to the safe. + +Turning on the picture-light he found and operated the lever, with his +other hand so restraining the action of the panel that it moved aside +without perceptible jar. + +Then with an ear to that smooth, cold face of enamelled steel, he began +to manipulate the combination. From within the door a succession of soft +clicks and knocks punctuated the muted whine of the dial, speaking +a language only too intelligible to the trained hearing of a thief; +synchronous breaks and resistance in the action of the dial conveyed +additional information through the medium of supersensitive finger tips. +Within two minutes he had learned all he needed to know, and standing back +twirled the knob right and left with a confident hand. At its fourth stop +he heard the dull bump of released tumblers, grasped the handle, and +twisted it strongly. The door swung open. + +Systematically Lanyard searched the pigeonholes, emptying all but one, +examining minutely their contents without finding that slender roll of +paper. + +Mystified, he hesitated. The thing, of course, was somewhere there, only +hidden more cunningly than he had hoped. It was possible, even probable, +that Blensop had stowed the cylinder away in a secret compartment. + +But the interior arrangement was disconcertingly simple. Lanyard saw no +sign of waste space in which such a drawer might be secreted. Unless, to be +sure, one of the pigeonholes had a false back.... + +He began a fresh examination, again emptying each pigeonhole and sounding +its rear wall without result till there remained only that in which Blensop +had placed the Arden jewels. + +It was necessary to move these, but Lanyard long withheld his hand, +reluctant to touch them, for that same reason which had influenced him to +avoid them in his first search. + +Jewels such as these he both worshipped and desired with the passionate +adoration of connoisseur and lover in one. He feared violently the +temptation of physical contact with such stuff. + +For his was no thief's errand to-night, but a matter, as he conceived +it, of his private honour, something apart and distinct from the code of +rogue's ethics which guided his professional activities. He had pledged +his word to Cecelia Brooke to keep safe for her that cylinder of paper, to +return it upon her demand for whatsoever disposition she might choose to +make of it. It was no concern of his what that choice might turn out to +be, any more than it was his affair if the document were a paper of +international importance. But she must and should, if act of his could +compass it, be given opportunity to redeem her word of honour if, as one +believed, that likewise were involved in the fate of the document. + +He had stolen into this house like a thief because he had given his pledge +and perforce had been made false to that pledge, because he had been +despoiled of the concrete evidence of the trust reposed unasked in him, and +because he had learned that his spoiler was to meet Stanistreet in this +room at midnight. + +He was here solely to make good his word, to take away that cylinder, could +he find it, and to return it to the girl ... not to thieve.... + +Never that!... + +Slowly, reluctantly, inevitably he put forth his hand and selected from +among those brilliant symbols of his soul's profound damnation the +necklace, a rope of diamonds consummately matched, a rivulet of frozen +fire, no single stone less lovely than another. + +"Admirable!" he whispered. "Oh, admirable!" + +Hesitant to do this thing which to him, by the strange standard of his +warped code, spelled dishonour, he would and he would not; and while he +paltered, was visited by an oddly vivid memory of the clear and candid eyes +of Cecelia Brooke, seemed veritably to see them searching his own with +their look of grieving wonder ... the eyes of one woman who had reckoned +him worthy of her trust.... + +Almost he won victory in this fight he was foredoomed to lose. Under the +level and steadfast regard of those eyes his hand went out to replace the +necklace, moved unsteadily, faltered.... + +Beyond the windows an incautious footfall sounded. In the darkness out +there someone blundered into a piece of wicker furniture and disturbed it +with a small scraping sound, all but inaudible, but to the thief as loud as +the blast of a police whistle. + +Instantly and instinctively, in two simultaneous gestures, Lanyard dropped +the necklace into an inner pocket of his coat and switched off the +picture-light. + +With hands now as steady and sure as they had been vacillant a moment +since, he closed the safe door noiselessly, shot its bolts, and was yards +away, crouching behind an armchair, before the man outside had ceased to +fumble with the window fastenings. + +If this were the watchman Howson, doubtless he would be satisfied with +finding the room dark and apparently untenanted, and would go off upon his +rounds unsuspecting. If he did not, or if he noticed the displaced panel, +then would come Lanyard's time to break cover and run for it. + +With a faint creak one of the windows swung inward. Curtain-rings clashed +dully on their poles. Someone came through the portičres and paused, +pulling them together behind him. The beam of an electric flash-lamp lanced +the gloom and its spotlight danced erratically round the walls. + +Now there was no more thought of flight in Lanyard's humour, but rather a +firm determination to stand his ground. This was no night watchman, but a +housebreaker, one with no more title to trespass upon those premises than +himself; and at that an unskilled hand at such work, the rawest of amateurs +practising methods as clumsy and childish as any actor playing at burglary +on a stage before a simple-minded audience. + +The noise he made on entering alone proved that, then this fatuous business +with the flash-lamp. And as he moved inward from the windows it became +evident that he had not even had the wit to close the portičres completely; +a violet glimmer of starlight shone in through a deep triangular gap +between them at the top. + +For all that, the intruder seemed to know what he wanted and where to seek +it, betrayed a nice acquaintance with the room, proceeding directly to the +safe picked out by his lamp. + +Arrived beneath it he uttered a low sound which might have been interpreted +as surprise due to finding the panel already out of place. If so, surprise +evidently roused in him no suspicion that all might not be well. On the +contrary, he quite calmly located and turned the switch controlling the +picture-light. + +Immediately, as its rays gushed down and disclosed the man, Lanyard +rose boldly from his place in hiding. Now there was no more need for +concealment; now was his enemy delivered into his hands. + +The man was "Karl." + +His back to Lanyard, unconscious of that one's catlike approach, the spy +put up his flash-lamp, searched in a waistcoat pocket and produced a slip +of paper, and bent his face close to the combination dial, studying its +figures; but abruptly, like a startled animal, whirled round to face the +windows. + +One of the sashes was thrown back roughly, and a figure clad in the gray +livery of a private watchman parted the portičres and entered the library. + +"Everything all right in here, Mr. Blensop?" + +Lanyard saw the sheen of blue steel in the hands of "Karl," and leaped too +late: even as he fell upon the spy's shoulders, the pistol exploded. + +The watchman reeled back with a choking cry, caught wildly at the +portičres, and dragged them down with him as he fell. + +His screams of agony made hideous the night. And the second cry was no more +than uttered when Lanyard, even in the heat of his struggle, heard sounds +indicating that already the household was alarmed. + +But the door would hold for a while; it was not probable that the first to +come downstairs would think to bring with him the key. Time enough to +think of escape when Lanyard had settled his score with this one: no light +undertaking; not only was the score a long one, longer than Lanyard then +dreamed, but, as he had learned to his cost, the man was an antagonist of +skill and strength not to be despised. + +Nevertheless, aided by the surprise of his onslaught, Lanyard succeeded +in disarming the spy, forcing him to drop the pistol at the outset, and +through attacking from behind had him at a further disadvantage. For all +that he found his hands full till, by a trick of jiu-jitsu, he wrenched one +of the fellow's arms behind him so roughly as almost to dislocate it at the +shoulder and, forcing the forearm up toward his shoulder blades, held him +temporarily helpless. + +"Be still, you murderous canaille!" he growled--"or must I tear your arm +from its socket? Still, I say!" + +"Karl" uttered a grunt of pain and ceased to struggle. + +Pinning him against the bookcase, Lanyard hastily rifled his pockets, at +the first dip bringing forth a thin sheaf of American bank-notes with the +figures $1000 conspicuous on the uppermost. + +"Ten thousand dollars," he said grimly--"precisely my fee for the use of my +name--to say nothing of its abuse!" + +A torrent of untranslatable German blasphemy answered him. Intelligible was +the half-frantic demand: "Who the devil are you?" + +"Take a look, assassin--see for yourself!" Lanyard twisted the spy around +to face him, holding him helpless against the wall with a knee in his +middle and a hand gripping his throat inexorably. "Do you know me now--the +man you thought you'd drowned a hundred fathoms deep?" + +Blows thundered on the hallway door. Neither heeded. The spy was staring +into Lanyard's face, his eyes starting with horror and affright. + +"Lanyard!" he gasped. "Good God! will you never die?" + +"Never by your hand--" Lanyard began, but stopped sharply. + +For a moment he glared incredulously, and in that moment knew his enemy. + +"Ekstrom!" he cried; and the man at his mercy winced and quailed. + +The din in the hallway grew louder. Voices cried out for the key. Somebody +threw himself against the door so heavily that it shook. + +The emergency forced itself upon Lanyard's consciousness, would not be +denied. Its dilemma seemed calculated to unseat his reason. If he lingered, +he was lost. Either he must grant this creature new lease of life, or be +caught and pay the penalty of murder for an execution as surely just as any +in the history of mankind. + +It was bitter, too bitter to have come to this his hour so long desired, so +long deferred, so arduously sought, and have the fruits of it snatched from +his craving grasp. + +He could not bring himself to this renunciation; slowly his fingers +tightened on the other's throat. + +Driven to desperation by the light of madness that began to flicker in +Lanyard's eyes, the Prussian abruptly put all he had of might and fury into +one final effort, threw Lanyard off, and in turn attacked him, fighting +like a lunatic for footroom, for space enough to turn and make for the +windows. + +In spite of all he could do Lanyard saw the man work away from the wall and +manoeuvre his back toward the windows; then he flew at him with redoubled +fury, driving home blow after blow that beat down Ekstrom's guard and sent +him staggering helplessly, till an uppercut, swinging in under his uplifted +forearms, put an end to the combat. Ekstrom shot backward half a dozen +feet, stumbled over the prostrate body of the watchman, and crashed +headlong into the windows, going down in a shower of shattered glass. + +In one and the same instant Lanyard darted back and dropped upon his knees +in the shadow of the club lounge, and the door to the hallway slammed open. +A knot of men, to the number of half a dozen, tumbling into the library, +saw that figure floundering amid the ruins of the window, and made for it, +passing on the other side of the lounge, between it and the fireplace. + +Unseen, Lanyard rose, ran crouching across the room; found the side door, +opened it just far enough to permit the passage of his body, and drew it to +behind him. + +Ninety-fifth Street was a lonely lane of midnight quiet. He sped across it +like the shadow of a cloud wind-hunted. + + + + +XVI + +AU PRINTEMPS + + +In those days New York nights were long; this was still young when Lanyard +sauntered sedately from a side street and stopped on a corner of Broadway +in the Nineties; he had not long to wait ere a southbound taxicab hove in +sight and sheered over to the curb in answer to his signal. + +It was still something short of one o'clock when he was set down at his +door. + +Wearily he let himself in by the private entrance, made a light, and +without troubling even to discard his overcoat threw himself into a chair. +Leaden depression weighed down his heart, and the flavour of failure was +as aloes in his mouth. Thrice within an hour he had fallen short of his +promises, to Cecelia Brooke, to himself, to his _idée fixe_. His three +chances, to redeem his word to the girl, to measure up to his queer +criterion of honour, to rid his world of Ekstrom, all had slipped through +fingers seemingly too infirm to profit by them. + +He felt of a sudden old; old, and tired, and lonely. + +The uses of his world, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable! What was +his life? An emptiness. Himself? A shuttlecock, the helpless sport of +his own failings, a vain thing alternately strutting and stumbling, now +swaggering in the guise of an avenger self-appointed, now sneaking in the +shameful habiliments of a felon self-condemned. + +What had prevented his dealing out to Ekstrom the punishment he had so well +earned? That insatiable lust for loot of his. But for that damning evidence +against him of the stolen necklace in his pocket he might have had his will +of Ekstrom, and justified himself when discovered by proving that he had +merely done justice to a thief who sold what he had stolen and stole back +to steal again what he had sold. + +Self-contempt attacked self-conceit like an acid. He saw Michael Lanyard +a sorry figure, sitting stultified with self-pity ... crying over spilt +milk.... + +Impatiently he shook himself. What though he had to-night forfeited his +chances? He could, nay, would, make others. He must.... + +To what end? Would life be sweeter if one found a way to restore to Cecelia +Brooke her precious document and to smuggle back to Mrs. Arden her pilfered +diamonds? Would this deadly ache of loneliness be less poignant with +Ekstrom dead? + +With lack-lustre eyes he looked round that cheerless room, reckoning its +perfunctory pretense of comfort the forlornest mockery. To lodgings such as +this he was condemned for life, to an interminable sequence of transient +quarters, sordid or splendid, rich or mean, alike in this common quality of +hollow loneliness.... + +His aimless gaze wandered toward the door opening on the public hallway, +and became fixed upon a triangular shape of white paper, the half of an +envelope tucked between door and sill. + +Presently he rose and got the thing, not until he touched it quite +persuaded he was not the victim of an optical hallucination. + +A square envelope of creamy paper, it was superscribed simply in a hand +strange to him, _Anthony Ember, Esq_., with the address of his apartment +house. + +Tearing the envelope he found within a double sheet of plain notepaper +bearing a message of five words penned hastily: + + "_Au Printemps_-- + "_one o'clock_-- + "_Please_!" + +Nothing else, not another word or pen-scratch.... + +Opening the door Lanyard hailed the hall-attendant, a sleepy and not +over-intelligent negro. + +"When did this come for me?" + +"'Bout anour ago, Mistuh Embuh." + +"Who brought it?" + +"A messenger boy done fotch it, suh--look lak th' same boy." + +"What same boy?" + +"Same as come in when you do, 'bout 'leven o'clock--remembuh?" + +Lanyard nodded, recalling that on his way up the street from Sixth Avenue +he had been subconsciously irritated by the shrill, untuneful whistling of +a loutish youth in Western Union uniform, who had followed him into the +house and become engaged in some minor altercation with the attendants +while Lanyard was unlocking the door to his apartment. + +"What of him?" + +"Why, he bulge in heah an' say we done send a call, an' we tell him we don' +know nuffin' 'bout no call, an' he sweah an' carry on, an' aftuh you done +gone in he ast whut is yo' name, an' somebody tell him an' he go away. An' +then 'bout haffanour aftuhwuds he come back with that theah lettuh--say to +stick it undeh yo' do, ef yo' ain't home. Leastways he look to me lak th' +same boy. Ah dunno fo' suah." + +Repeated efforts failing to extract more enlightenment from this source, +Lanyard again shut himself in with the puzzle. + +Somebody had set a messenger boy to dog him and find out his name and +address. Not Crane: Lanyard had seen that one disappear in the elevator of +the Knickerbocker and had thereafter moved too quickly to permit of Crane's +returning to the lobby, calling a messenger boy, and pointing out Lanyard. + +For that matter, Lanyard was prepared to swear nobody had followed him from +the Knickerbocker to the Biltmore. + +Vaguely he seemed to recall a first impression of the boy at the time when +he emerged from the drug store after his unprofitable effort to telephone +Cecelia Brooke, an indefinite memory of a shambling figure with nose +flattened against the druggist's window, apparently fascinated by the +display of a catch-penny corn cure. + +Was there a link between that circumstance and the long delay which Lanyard +had suffered in the telephone booth? Had the Knickerbocker operator been +less stupid and negligent than she seemed? Was the truth of the matter that +Crane had surmised Lanyard would attempt communication with the Brooke girl +and had set a watch on the switchboard for the call? + +Assuming that the Secret Service man had been clever enough for that, +it was not difficult to understand that Lanyard had purposely been kept +dangling at the other end of the wire till the call could be traced back to +its source and a messenger despatched from the nearest Western Union office +with instructions to follow the man who left the booth, and report his name +and local habitation. + +Sharp work, if these inferences were reasonable. And, satisfied that +they were, Lanyard inclined to accord increased respect to the detective +abilities of the American. + +But this note, this hurried, unsigned scrawl of five unintelligible words: +what the deuce did it mean? + +On the evidence of the handwriting a woman had penned it. Cecelia Brooke? +Who else? Crane might well have been taken into her confidence, subsequent +to the sinking of the _Assyrian_, and on discovering that Lanyard had +survived have used this means of relieving the girl's distress of mind. + +But its significance?... "Au Printemps" translated literally meant "in the +springtime," and "in the springtime at one o'clock" was mere gibberish, +incomprehensible. There is in Paris a department store calling itself "Au +Printemps"; but surely no one was suggesting to Lanyard in New York a +rendezvous in Paris! + +Nevertheless that "Please!" intrigued with a note at once pleading and +imperative which decided Lanyard to answer it without delay, in person. + +"_Au Printemps--one o'clock--please_!" + +Upon the screen of memory there flashed a blurred vision of an electric +sign emblazoning the phrase, "Au Printemps," against the façade of a +building with windows all blind and dark save those of the street level, +which glowed pink with light filtered through silken hangings; a building +which Lanyard had already passed thrice that night without, in the +preoccupation of his purpose, paying it any heed; a building on Broadway +somewhere above Columbus Circle, if he were not mistaken. + +Already it was one o'clock. Fortunately he was still in evening dress, and +needed only to change collar and tie to repair the disarray caused by his +encounter with Ekstrom. + +In two minutes he was once more in the street. + +Within five a cab deposited him in front of the Restaurant Au Printemps, an +institution of midnight New York whose title for distinction resided mainly +in the fact that it opened its upper floors for the diversion of "members" +about the time when others put up their shutters. + +Lanyard's advent occurred at the height of its traffic. The dining rooms on +the street level were closed and unlighted: but men and women in pairs +and parties were streaming across the sidewalk from an endless chain of +motor-cars and being ground through the revolving doors like grist in the +hopper of an unhallowed mill, the men all in evening dress, the women in +garments whose insolence outrivalled the most Byzantine nights of L'Abbaye +Thęlčme. + +Drawn in with the current through the turnstile door, Lanyard found himself +in an absurdly little lobby thronged to suffocation, largely with people +of the half-world--here and there a few celebrities, here and there small +tight clusters of respectabilities making a brave show of feeling at +ease--all waiting their turn to be lifted to delectable regions aloft in an +elevator barely big enough to serve in a private residence. + +For a moment Lanyard lingered unnoticed on the outskirts of this +assemblage, searching its pretty faces for the prettier face he had come to +find and wondering that she should have chosen for her purpose with him a +resort of this character. His memory of her was sweet with the clean smell +of the sea; there was incongruity to spare in this atmosphere heady with +the odours of wine, flesh, scent, and tobacco. Perplexing.... + +A harpy with a painted leer and predacious eyes pounced upon him, tore away +his hat and coat, gave him a numbered slip of pasteboard by presenting +which he would be permitted to ransom his property on extortionate terms. + +And still he saw no Cecelia Brooke, though his aloof attitude coupled with +an intent but impersonal inspection of every feminine face within his +radius of vision earned him more than one smile at once furtively +provocative and unwelcome. + +By degrees the crowd emptied itself into the toy elevator--such of it, that +is, as was passed by a committee on membership consisting of one chubby, +bearded gentleman with the look of a French diplomatist, the empressement +of a head waiter and the authority of the Angel with the Flaming Sword. +_Personae non gratae_ to the management--inexplicably so in most +instances--were civilly requested to produce membership cards and, upon +failure to comply, were inexorably rejected, and departed strangely +shamefaced. Others of acceptable aspect were permitted to mingle with +the upper circles of the elect without being required to prove their +"membership." + +In the person of this suave but inflexible arbiter Lanyard identified a +former maître d'hôtel of the Carlton who had abruptly and discreetly fled +London soon after the outbreak of war. + +He fancied that this one knew him and was sedulous both to keep him in the +corner of his eye and never to meet his regard directly. + +And once he saw the man speak covertly with the elevator attendant, +guarding his lips with a hand, and suspected that he was the subject of +their communication. + +The lobby was still comfortably filled, a constant trickle of arrivals +replacing in measure the losses by election and rejection, when Lanyard, +watching the revolving doors, saw Cecelia Brooke coming in. + +She was alone, at least momentarily; and in his sight very creditably +turned out, remembering that all her luggage must have been lost with the +_Assyrian_. But what Englishwoman of her caste ever permitted herself to be +visible after nightfall except in an evening gown of some sort, even though +a shabby sort? Not that Miss Brooke to-night was shabbily attired: she was +much otherwise; from some mysterious source of wardrobe she had conjured +wraps, furs, and a dancing frock as fresh and becoming as it was, oddly +enough, not immodest. And with whatever cares preying upon her secret mind, +she entered with the light step and bright countenance of any girl of her +age embarked upon a lark. + +All that was changed at sight of Lanyard. + +He bowed formally at a moment when her glance, resting on him, seemed about +to wander on; instead it became fixed in recognition. Instantly her smile +was erased, her features stiffened, her eyes widened, her lips parted, the +colour ebbed from her cheeks. And she stopped quite still in front of the +door till lightly jostled by other arrivals. + +Then moving uncertainly toward him, she said, "Monsieur Duchemin!" not +loudly, for she was not a woman to give excuse for a scene under any +circumstances, but in a tone of complete dumbfounderment. + +Covering his own dashed contenance with a semblance of unruffled +amiability, he bowed again, now over the hand which the girl tentatively +offered, letting it rest lightly on his fingers, touching it as lightly +with his lips. + +"It is such a pleasant surprise," he said at a venture, then added +guardedly: "But my name--I thought you knew it was now Anthony Ember." + +Her eyes were blank. "I don't understand," she faltered. "I thought you ... +I never dreamed.... Is it really you?" + +"Truly," he averred, lips smiling but mind rife with suspicion and +distrust. + +This was not acting; he was convinced that her surprise was absolutely +unfeigned. + +So she had not expected to find him "Au Printemps" at one o'clock in the +morning, till that very moment had believed him as dead as any of those +poor souls who had perished with the _Assyrian_! + +Therefore that note had not come from her, therefore Lanyard had +complimented Crane without warrant, crediting him with another's +cleverness. Then whose...? + +And while Lanyard's head buzzed with these thoughts, an independent chamber +of his mind was engaged in admiring the address with which the girl was +recovering from what must have been, what plainly had been, a staggering +shock. Already she had begun to grapple with the situation, to take herself +in hand and dissemble; already her face was regaining its accustomed cast +of self-confidence, composure, and intelligent animation. Throughout she +pursued without a break the thread of conventional small talk. + +"It is a surprise," she said calmly. "Really, you are a most astonishing +person, Mr. Ember. One never knows where to look for you." + +"That is my good fortune, since it provides me with unexpected pleasures +such as this. You are with friends?" + +"With a friend," she corrected quietly--"with Mr. Crane. He stopped outside +to pay our taxi-driver. How odd it seems to find any place in the world as +much alive as this New York!" + +"It seems almost impossible," Lanyard averred--"indeed, somehow wrong. I've +a feeling one has no right to encourage so much frivolity. And yet...." + +"Yes," she responded quickly. "It is good to hear people laugh once more. +That is why Mr. Crane suggested coming here to-night, to cheer me up. He +said Au Printemps was unique, promised I'd find it most amusing." + +"I'm sure...." Lanyard began as Crane entered, breezing through the +turnstile and comprehending the situation in a glance. + +"Hello!" he cried. "Didn't I tell you everybody alive would be here?" + +Nor was Cecelia Brooke less ready. "But fancy meeting Mr. Ember here! I had +no idea he was in New York--had you?" + +"Perhaps a dim suspicion," Crane admitted with a twinkle, taking Lanyard's +hand. "Howdy, Ember? Glad to see you, gladder'n you'd think." + +"How is that?" Lanyard asked, returning the cordiality of his grasp. + +Crane's penetrating accents must have been audible in the remotest corner +of the ground-floor rooms: he made no effort to modulate them to a quieter +pitch. + +"You can help me out of a fix if you feel like it. You see, I promised Miss +Brooke if she'd take me for her guide, she'd see life to-night; and now, +just when we're going good, I've got to renig. Man I know held me up +outside, says I'm wanted down town on special business and must go. I might +be able to toddle back later, but can't bank on it. Do you mind taking over +my job?" + +"Chaperoning Miss Brooke's investigations into the seamy side of current +social history? That will be delightful." + +"Attaboy! If I'm not back in half an hour you'll see her safely home, of +course?" + +"Trust me." + +"And you'll excuse me, Miss Brooke? I hope you don't think--" + +"What I do think, Mr. Crane, is that you have been most kind to a lonely +stranger. Of course I'll excuse you, not willingly, but understanding you +must go." + +"That makes me a heap easier in my mind. But I' got to run. So it's +good-night, unless maybe I see you later. So long, Ember!" + +With a flirt of a raw-boned hand, Crane swung about, threw himself +spiritedly into the revolving door, was gone. + +"Amazing creature," Lanyard commented, laughing. + +"I think him delightful," the girl replied, surrendering her wraps to a +maid. "If all Americans are like that--" + +"Shall we go up?" + +She nodded--"Please!"--and turned with him. + +The committee on membership himself bowed them into the elevator. Several +others crowded in after them. For thirty seconds, while the car moved +slowly upward, Lanyard was free to think without interruption. + +But what to think now? That Crane, actuated by some motive occult to +Lanyard, had engineered this apparently adventitious _rencontre_ for the +purpose of throwing him and the Brooke girl together? Or, again, that Crane +was innocent of guile in this matter--that other persons unknown, causing +Lanyard to be traced to his lodgings, had framed that note to entice him to +this place to-night? In the latter event, who was conceivably responsible +but Velasco, Dressier, O'Reilly--any one of these, or all three working in +concert? The last-named had looked Lanyard squarely in the face without +sign of recognition, back there in the lobby of the Knickerbocker, +precisely as he should, if implicated in the conspiracies of the Boche; +though it might easily have been Velasco or Dressier who had recognized the +adventurer without his knowledge.... + +The car stopped, a narrow-chested door slid open, a gush of hectic light +coloured morbidly the faces of alighting passengers, a blare of syncopated +noise singularly unmusical saluted the astonished ears of Lanyard and +Cecelia Brooke. She met his gaze with a smiling _moue_ and slightly lifted +eyebrows. + +"More than we bargained for?" he laughed. "But there is always something +new in this America, I promise you. Au Printemps itself is new, at all +events did not exist when I was last in New York." + +Following her out, he paused beside the girl in a constricted space hedged +about with tables, waiting for the maître d'hôtel to seat those who had +been first to leave the elevator. + +The room, of irregular conformation, held upward of two hundred guests and +habitués seated at tables large and small and so closely set together +that waiters with difficulty navigated narrow and tortuous channels of +communication. In the middle, upon a small dancing floor, rudely octagonal +in shape, made smaller by tables crowded round its edge to accommodate the +crush, a mob of couples danced arduously, close-locked in one another's +arms, swaying in rhythm with the over-emphasized time beaten out by a +perspiring little band of musicians on a dais in a far corner, their +activities directed by an antic conductor whose lantern-jawed, sallow face +peered grotesquely out through a mop of hair as black and coarse and lush +as a horse's mane. + +Execrable ventilation or absence thereof manufactured an atmosphere that +reeked with heat animal and artificial and with ill-blended effluvia from a +hundred sources. Perhaps the odour of alcohol predominated; Lanyard thought +of a steam-heated wine-cellar. He observed nothing but champagne in any +glass, and if food were being served it was done surreptitiously. Sweat +dripped from the faces of the dancers, deep flushes discoloured all not so +heavily enamelled as to preserve an inalterable complexion, the eyes of +many stared with the fixity of hypnosis. Yet when the music ended with an +unexpected crash of discord these dancers applauded insatiably till the +jaded orchestra struck up once more, when they renewed their curious +gyrations with quenchless abandon. + +The Brooke girl caught Lanyard's eye, her lips moved. Thanks to the din, he +had to bend his head near to hear. + +She murmured with infinite expression: "Au Printemps!" + +The maître d'hôtel was plucking at his sleeve. + +"Monsieur had made reservations, no?" Startled recognition washed the man's +tired and pasty countenance. "Pardon, monsieur: this way!" He turned and +began to thread deviously between the jostling tables. + +Dubiously Lanyard followed. He likewise had known the maître d'hôtel at +sight: a beastly little decadent whose cabaret on the rue d'Antin, just off +the avenue de l'Opéra, had been a famous rendezvous of international spies +till war had rendered it advisable for him to efface himself from the ken +of Paris with the same expedition and discretion which had marked the +departure from London of his confrčre who now guarded the lower gateway to +these ethereal regions of Au Printemps. + +The coincidence of finding those two so closely associated worked with the +riddle of that note further to trouble Lanyard's mind. + +Was he to believe Au Printemps the legitimate successor in America of that +less pretentious establishment on the rue d'Antin, an overseas headquarters +for Secret Service agents of the Central Powers? + +He began to regret heartily, not so much that he had presented himself in +answer to that note, but the responsibility which now devolved upon him of +caring for Miss Brooke. Much as he had wished to see her an hour ago, now +he would willingly be rid of her company. + +Why had he been lured to this place, if its character were truly what he +feared? Conceivably because he was believed--since it now appeared he had +cheated death--still to possess either that desired document or knowledge +of its whereabouts. + +Naturally the enemy would not think otherwise. He must not forget that +Ekstrom was playing double; as yet none but Lanyard knew he had stolen the +document and done a murder to cover the theft from his associates and leave +him free to sell to England without exciting their suspicion. + +Consequently, Lanyard believed, he had been invited to this place to +be sounded, to be tempted, bribed, intimidated--if need be, and +possible--somehow to be won over to the uses of the Prussian spy system. + +Leading them to the farther side of the room, the maître d'hôtel paused +bowing and mowing beside a large table already in the possession of a party +of three. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. One of the three was Velasco, another a young man +unknown to him, a mannerly little creature who might have been written by +the author of "What the Man Will Wear" in the theatre programmes. The third +was Sophie Weringrode, the Wilhelmstrasse agent whom he had only that +afternoon observed entering the house in Seventy-ninth Street. + +He stopped short, in a cold rage. Till that moment a mirror-sheathed pillar +had hidden from him Velasco and the Weringrode; else Lanyard had refused +to come so far; for obviously there were no unreserved tables, indeed few +vacant chairs, in that part of the room. + +Not that he minded the cynical barefacedness of the dodge; that was indeed +amusing; he was sanguine as to his ability to dominate any situation that +might arise, and to a degree indifferent if the upshot should prove his +confidence misplaced; and he did not in the least object to letting the +enemy show his cards. But he did enormously resent what was, after all, +something quite outside the calculations of these giddy conspirators, the +fact that he must either beat incontinent retreat or introduce Cecelia +Brooke to the company of Sophie Weringrode. + +His face darkened, a stinging reproof for the maître d'hôtel trembled on +his tongue's tip; but that one was busily avoiding his eye on the far side +of the table, drawing out a chair for "mademoiselle," while Velasco and the +Weringrode were alert to read Lanyard's countenance and forestall any steps +he might contemplate in defiance of their designs. + +At first glimpse of the Brooke girl Velasco jumped up and hastened to her, +with eager Latin courtesy expressing his unanticipated delight in the +prospect of her consenting to join their party. And she was suffering with +quiet graciousness his florid compliments. + +At the same time the Weringrode was greeting Lanyard in the most intimate +fashion--and damning him in the understanding of Cecelia Brooke with every +word. + +"My dear friend!" she cried gayly, extending a bedizened hand. "I had begun +to despair of you. Is it part of your system with women always to be a +little late, always to keep us wondering?" + +Schooling his features to a civil smile, Lanyard bowed over the hand. + +"In warfare such as ours, my dear Sophie," he said with meaning, "one uses +all weapons, even the most primitive, in sheer self-defense." + +The woman laughed delightedly. "I think," she said, "if you rose from the +dead at the bottom of the sea, _Tony_, it would be with wit upon your +lips.... And you have brought a friend with you? How charming!" She shifted +in her chair to face Cecelia Brooke. "I wish to know her instantly!" + +Velasco was waiting only for that opening. "Dear princess," he said, +instantly, "permit me to present Miss Cecelia Brooke ... Princess de +Alavia...." + +Completely at ease and by every indication enjoying herself hugely, the +girl bowed and took the hand the Weringrode thrust upon her. Her eyes, +a-brim with excitement and mischief, veered to Lanyard's, ignored their +warning, glanced away. + +"How do you do?" she said simply. "I didn't understand Mr. Ember expected +to meet friends here, but that only makes it the more agreeable. May we sit +down?" + + + + +XVII + +FINESSE + + +The person in the educated evening clothes was made known as Mr. Revel. +For Lanyard's benefit and his own he vacated the chair beside Sophie +Weringrode, seating himself to one side of Cecelia Brooke, who had Velasco +between her and the soi-disant princess. + +Already a waiter had placed and was filling glasses for Lanyard and the +girl. + +With the best grace he could muster the adventurer sat down, accepted +a cigarette from the Weringrode case, and with openly impertinent eyes +inspected the intrigante critically. + +She endured that ordeal well, smiling confidently, a handsome creature with +a beautiful body bewitchingly gowned. + +Time, he considered, had been kind to Sophie--time, the mysteries of the +modern toilette, and the astonishing adaptability of womankind. Splendidly +vital, like all of her sort who survive, she seemed mysteriously able to +renew that vitality through the very extravagance with which she squandered +it. She had lived much of late years, rapidly but well, had learned much, +had profited by her lessons. To-night she looked legitimately the princess +of her pretensions; the manner of the grande dame suited her type; her +gesture was as impeccable as her taste; prettier than ever, she seemed at +worst little more than half her age. + +And her quick intelligence mocked the privacy of his reflections. + +"Fair, fast, and forty," she interpreted smilingly. + +He pretended to be stunned. "Never!" he protested feebly. + +The woman reaffirmed in a series of rapid nods. "Have I ever had secrets +from you? You are too quick for me, monsieur: I do not intend to begin +deceiving you at this late day--or trying to." + +"Flattery," he declared, "is meat and drink to me. Tell me more." + +She laughed lightly. "Thank you, no; vanity is unbecoming in men; I do not +care to make you vain." + +Aware that Cecelia Brooke was listening all the while she seemed to be +enchanted with the patter of Mr. Revel and the less vapid observations of +Velasco, Lanyard sought to shunt personalities from himself. + +"And now a princess!" + +"Did you not know I had married? Yes, a princess of Spain--and with a +castle there, if you must know." + +"Quite a change of atmosphere from Berlin," he remarked. "But it has done +you no perceptible harm." + +That won him a black look. "Oh, Berlin!" she said with contemptuous lips. +"I haven't been there since the beginning of the war. I wish never to see +the place again. True: I was born an Austrian; but is that any reason why I +should love Germany?" + +She leaned forward, her fan gently tapping the knuckles of his hand. + +"Pay less attention to me," she insisted, with a nod toward the middle of +the room. "You are missing something. Me, I never tire of her." + +The floor had been cleared. A drummer on the dais was sounding the +long-roll crescendo. At the culminating crash the lights were everywhere +darkened save for an orange-coloured spot-light set in the ceiling +immediately above the dancing floor. Into that circular field of torrid +glare bounded a woman wearing little more than an abbreviated kirtle of +grass strands with a few festoons of artificial flowers. Applause roared +out to her, the orchestra sounded the opening bars of an Americanised +Hawaiian melody, the woman with extraordinary vivacity began to perform a +denatured hula: a wild and tawny animal, superbly physical, relying with +warrant upon the stark sensuality of her body to make amends for the +censored phrases of the primitive dance. The floor resounded like a great +drum to the stamping of her bare feet, till one marvelled at such solidity +of flesh as could endure that punishment. + +Sophie Weringrode lounged negligently upon the table, bringing her head +near Lanyard's shoulder. + +"Play fair," she said between lips that barely moved. + +Without looking round Lanyard answered in the same manner: "Why ask more +than you are prepared to give?" + +"The police ran you out of America once. We need only publish the fact that +Mr. Anthony Ember is the Lone Wolf...." + +"Well?" + +"Leave Berlin out of it before this girl." + +Lanyard shrugged and laughed quietly. "What else?" + +"We can't talk now. Ask me for the next dance." + +The woman sat back in her chair, attentive to the posturing of the dancer, +slowly fanning herself. + +Lanyard's semblance of as much interest was nothing more; furtively his +watchfulness alternated between two quarters of the room. + +On the farther edge of the circle of tropical radiance he had marked down a +table at which two men were seated, Dressier and O'Reilly. No more question +now as to the personnel of the conspiracy; even Velasco had thrown off +the mask. The enemy had come boldly into the open, indicating a sense of +impudent assurance, indicating even more, contempt of opposition. No +longer afraid, they no longer skulked in shadows. Lanyard experienced a +premonition of events impending. + +In addition he was keeping an eye on the door to the elevator shaft. Once +already it had opened, letting a bright window into the farther wall of the +shadowed room, discovering the figure of the maître d'hôtel in silhouette, +anxiety in his attitude. He was waiting for somebody, waiting tensely. So +were the others waiting, all that crew and their fellow workers scattered +among the guests. Lanyard told himself he could guess for whom. + +Only Ekstrom was wanting to complete the circle. When he appeared--if by +chance he should--things ought to begin to happen. + +If tolerably satisfied that Ekstrom would not come--not that night, at all +events--Lanyard, none the less, continued to be jealously heedful of that +doorway. + +But the hula came to an end without either his vigilance or the impatience +of the maître d'hôtel being rewarded. Writhing with serpentine grace to the +edge of the illuminated area, the dancer leaped back into darkness and the +folds of a wrap held by a maid, in which garment she was seen, bowing and +laughing, when the lights again blazed up. + +Without ceasing to play, changing only the time of the tune, the orchestra +swung into a fox-trot. Lanyard glanced across the table to see Cecelia +Brooke rising in response to the invitation of dapper Mr. Revel. + +In his turn, he rose with Sophie Weringrode. "Be patient with me," +he begged. "It is long since I danced to music more frivolous than a +cannonade." + +"But it is simple," the woman promised--"simple, at least, to one who can +dance as you could in the old days. Just follow me till you catch the step. +It doesn't matter, anyway; I desire only the opportunity to converse." + +Yielding to his arms, she shifted into French when next she spoke. + +"You do admirably, my friend. Never again depreciate your dancing. If you +knew how one suffers at the feet of these Americans--!" + +"Excellent!" he said. "Now that is settled: what is it you are instructed +to propose to me?" + +She laughed softly. "Always direct! Truly you would never shine as a secret +agent." + +"Not as they shine," Lanyard countered--"in the dark." + +"Don't be a fraud. We are what we are, and so are you. Let us not begin to +be censorious of one another's methods of winning a living." + +"Agreed. But when do we begin to talk business?" + +"Why do you continue so persistently antagonistic?" + +"I am French." + +"That is silly. You are an outlaw, a man without a country. Why not change +all that?" + +"And how does one effect miracles?" + +"Germany offers you a refuge, security, freedom to ply your trade +unhindered--within reasonable limits." + +"And in exchange what do I give?" + +"Your services, as and when required, in our service." + +"Beginning when?" + +"To-night." + +"With what specific performance?" + +"We want, we must without fail have, that document you took from the Brooke +girl." + +"Perhaps we had better continue in English. You are speaking a tongue +unknown to me." + +"Don't talk rot. You know well what I mean. We know you have the thing. +You didn't steal it to turn it over to England or the States. What is your +price to Germany?" + +"Whatever you have in mind, believe me when I say I have nothing to sell to +the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"But what else can you do with it? What other market--?" + +"My dear Sophie, upon my word I haven't got what you want." + +"Then why so keen to get the Brooke girl on the telephone as soon as you +found out where she was stopping?" + +"How did you learn about that, by the way?" + +"Let the credit go to Seńor Velasco. He saw you first." + +"One thought as much.... Nevertheless, I haven't what you want." + +"You gave it back to Miss Brooke?" + +"Having nothing to give her, I gave her nothing." + +The woman was silent throughout a round of the floor; then, "Tell me +something," she requested. + +"Can I keep anything from you?" + +"Are you in love with the English girl?" + +Lanyard almost lost step, then laughed the thought to derision. "What put +that into your pretty head, Sophie?" + +"Do you not know it yourself, my friend?" + +"It is absurd." + +She laughed maliciously. "Think it over. Possibly you have not stopped to +think as yet. When you know the truth yourself, you will be the better +qualified to fib about it. Also, you will not forget...." + +"What?" he demanded bluntly as she paused with intention. + +"That as long as she possesses the document--since you have it not--her +life is endangered even more than yours." + +"She hasn't got it!" Lanyard declared, as nearly in panic as he ever was. + +"Ah!" the woman jeered. "So you confess to some knowledge of it after all!" + +"My dear," he said, teasingly, "do you really want to know what has become +of that paper?" + +"I do, and mean to." + +"What if I tell you?" + +Her eyes lifted to his in childlike candour. "Need you ask?" + +"You are irresistible.... Ask Karl." + +She demanded sharply: "Whom?" + +"Ekstrom." + +"Ah!" Again the adventuress was silent for a little. "What does he know?" + +"Ask him, enquire why he murdered von Harden, then what business took him +to Ninety-fifth Street twice this evening--once about nine o'clock, again +at midnight." + +"You must be mad, monsieur. Karl would not dare...." + +"You don't know him--or have forgotten he was trained in the International +Bureau of Brussels, and there learned how to sell out both parties to a +business that won't bear publicity." + +"I wonder," the woman mused. "Never have I wholly trusted that one." + +"Shall I give you the key?" + +"If you love Karl as little as I...." + +"But where do you suppose the good man is, this night of nights?" + +"Who knows? He was not here when I arrived at midnight. I have seen nothing +of him since." + +"When you do--if he shows himself at all--look him over carefully for signs +of wear and tear." + +"Yes, monsieur? And in what respect?" + +"Look for cuts about his head and hands, possibly elsewhere. And should he +confess to an affair with a wind-shield in a motor accident, ask him what +happened to the study window in the house at Ninety-fifth Street." + +Impish glee danced in the woman's eyes. "Your handiwork, dear friend?" + +"A mere beginning.... You may tell him so, if you like." + +He was subjected to a convulsive squeeze. "Never have I felt so kindly +disposed toward an enemy!" + +"It is true, I were a better foe to Germany if I kept my counsel and let +Ekstrom continue to play double." + +The music ceasing, to be followed by the inevitable clamour for more, +Lanyard offered an arm upon which Sophie rested a detaining hand. + +"No--wait. We dance this encore. I have more to say." + +He submitted amiably, the more so since not ill-pleased with himself. And +when again they were moving round the floor, she bore more heavily upon his +shoulder and was thoughtful longer than he had expected. Then-- + +"Attention, my friend." + +"I am listening, Sophie." + +"If what you hint is true--and I do not doubt it is--Karl's day is done." + +"More nearly than he dreams," Lanyard affirmed grimly. + +"I shan't be sorry. I am German through and through; what I do, I do for +the Fatherland, and in that find absolution for many things I care not to +remember. If through what you tell me I may prove Karl traitor, I owe you +something." + +"Always it has been my fondest hope, Sophie, some day to have you in my +debt." + +Her fingers tightened on his. "Do not jest in the shadow of death. Since +you have been unwise enough to venture here to-night, you will not be +permitted to leave alive--unless you pledge yourself to us and prove your +sincerity by producing that paper." + +"That sounds reasonable--like Prussia. What next?" + +"I have warned you, so paid off my debt. The rest is your affair." + +"Do you imagine I take this seriously?" + +"It will turn out seriously for you if you do not." + +"How can I be prevented from leaving when I will, from a public +restaurant?" + +"Is it possible you don't know this place? It is maintained by the +Wilhelmstrasse. Attempt to leave it without coming to a satisfactory +understanding, and see what happens." + +"What, for instance?" + +"The lights would be out before you were half across the room. When they +went up again, the Lone Wolf would be no more, and never a soul here would +know who stabbed him or what became of the knife." + +"Are you by any chance amusing yourself at my expense?" + +Once more the woman showed him her handsome eyes: he found them frankly +grave, earnest, unwavering. + +"If you will not listen, your blood be on your own head." + +"Forgive me. I didn't mean to be rude...." + +"Still, you do not believe!" + +"You are wrong. I am merely amused." + +"If you understood, you could never mock your peril." + +"But I don't mock it. I am enchanted with it. I accept it, and it renews +my youth. This might be Paris of the days when you ran with the Pack, +Sophie--and I alone!" + +The woman moved her pretty shoulders impatiently. "I think you are either +mad or ... the very soul of courage!" + +The encore ended; they returned to the table, Sophie leaning lightly on +Lanyard's arm, chattering gay inconsequentialities. + +Dropping into her chair, she bent over toward Cecelia Brooke. + +"He dances adorably, my dear!" the intrigante declared. "But I dare say you +know that already." + +The English girl shook her head, smiling. "Not yet." + +"Then lose no time. You two should dance well together, for you are more of +a size. I think the next number will be a waltz. We get altogether too few +of them; these American dances, these one-steps and foxtrots, they are not +dances, they are mere romps, favourites none the less. And there is always +more room on the floor; so few waltz nowadays. Really, you must not miss +this opportunity." + +This playful insistence, the light stress she laid upon her suggestion that +Cecelia Brooke dance with him, considered in conjunction with her recent +admonition, impressed Lanyard as significantly inconsistent. Sophie was no +more a woman to make purposeless gestures than she was one sufficiently +wanting in finesse to signal him by pressures of her foot. There was sheer +intention in that iteration: "... _lose no time ... you must not miss this +opportunity_." Something had happened even since their dance; she had +observed something momentous, and was warning him to act quickly if he +meant to act at all. + +With unruffled amiability, amused, urbane, Lanyard bowed his petition +across the table, and was rewarded by a bright nod of promise. + +Lighting another cigarette, he lounged back, poised his wine glass +delicately, with the eye of a connoisseur appraised its pale amber tint, +touched it lightly to his lips, inhaling critically its bouquet, sipped, +and signified approval of the vintage by sipping again: all without missing +one bit of business in a scene enacted on the far side of the room, +directly behind him but reflected in a mirror panel of the wall he faced. + +The diplomatist charged with the task of discriminating the sheep from the +goats in the lower lobby had come up to confer with his colleague, the +maître d'hôtel of the upper storey. When Lanyard first saw the man he was +standing by the elevator shaft, none too patiently awaiting the attention +of the other, who, caught by inadvertence at some distance, was moving to +join him, with what speed he could manage threading the thick-set tables. + +Was this what Sophie had noticed? Had she likewise, perhaps, received some +secret signal from the guardian of the lower gateway? + +A signal possibly indicating that Ekstrom had arrived + +They met at last, those two, and discreetly confabulated, the maître +d'hôtel betraying welcome mitigation of that nervous tension which had +heretofore so palpably affected him; and, as the other stepped back into +the elevator, Lanyard saw this one's glance irresistibly attracted to the +table dedicated to the service of the Princess de Alavia. Something much +resembling satisfaction glimmered in the fellow's leaden eyes: it was +apparent that he anticipated early relief from a distasteful burden of +responsibility. + +Then, at ease in the belief that he was unobserved, he turned to a near-by +table round which four sat without the solace of feminine society--four +men whose stamp was far from reassuring despite their strikingly quiet +demeanour and inconspicuously correct investiture of evening dress. + +Two were unmistakable sons of the Fatherland; all were well set up, with +the look of men who would figure to advantage in any affair calling for +physical competence and courage, from coffee and pistols at sunrise in the +Parc aux Princes to a battle royal in a Tenderloin dive. + +Their table commanded both ways out, by the stairs and by the elevator, +much too closely for Lanyard's peace of mind. + +And more than one looked thoughtfully his way while the maître d'hôtel +hovered above them, murmuring confidentially. + +Four nods sealed an understanding with him. He strutted off with far more +manner than had been his at any time since the arrival of Lanyard, and +vented an excess of spirits by berating bitterly an unhappy clown of a +waiter for some trivial fault. + +The first bars of another dance number sang through the confusion of +voices: truly, as Sophie had foretold, a waltz. + + + + +XVIII + +DANSE MACABRE + + +Trained in the old school of the dance, Lanyard was unversed in that +graceless scamper which to-day passes as the waltz with a generation +largely too indolent or too inept of foot to learn to dance. + +His was that flowing waltz of melting rhythm, the waltz of yesterday, +that dance of dances to whose measures a civilization more sedate in its +amusements, less jealous of its time, danced, flirted, loved, and broke its +hearts. + +Into the swinging movement of that antiquated waltz Lanyard fell without +a qualm of doubt, all ignorant as he was of his benighted ignorance; and +instantly, with the ease and gracious assurance of a dancer born, Cecelia +Brooke adapted herself to his step and guidance, with rare pliancy made her +every movement exquisitely synchronous with his. + +No need to lead her, no need for more than the least of pressures upon her +yielding waist, no need for anything but absolute surrender to the magic of +the moment.... + +Effortless, like creatures of the music adrift upon its sounding tides, +they circled the floor once, twice, and again, before reluctantly Lanyard +brought himself to shatter the spell of that enchantment. + +Looking down with an apologetic smile, he asked: + +"Mademoiselle, do you know you can be an excellent actress?" + +As if in resentment the girl glanced upward sharply, with clouded eyes. + +"So can most women, in emergency." + +"I mean ... I have something serious to say; nobody must guess your +thoughts." + +She said simply: "I will do my best." + +"You must--you must appear quite charmed. Also, should you catch me +smirking like an infatuated ninny, remember I am only doing my own +indifferent best to act." + +Laughter trembled deliciously in her voice: "I promise faithfully to bear +in mind your heartlessness!" + +"I am an ass," he enunciated with the humility of conviction. "But that +can't be helped. Attend to me, if you please--and do not start. This place +turns out to be a nest of Prussian spies. I was brought here by a trick. I +understand the order is I may not leave alive." + +Playing her part so well as almost to embarrass Lanyard himself, the girl +smiled daringly into his eyes. + +"Because of that packet?" she breathed. + +"Because of that, mademoiselle." + +"Where is it?" + +For an instant Lanyard lost countenance absolutely. Through sheer good +fortune the girl was now dancing with face averted, her head so nearly +touching his shoulder that it seemed to rest upon it. + +Nevertheless, it was at cost of an heroic struggle that he fought down all +signs of that shock with which it had been borne in upon him that he dared +not assure the girl her packet was in safe hands. + +If he had failed in his efforts to restore the thing to her, that she might +consign it as she saw fit and so discharge her personal trust, till now +Lanyard had solaced himself with a hazy notion that she would in turn be +comforted when she learned the document was in the keeping of her country's +Secret Service. + +Impossible to tell her that: his own act had rendered it impossible, +that act the outcome of wilful trifling with his infirmity, his itch for +thieving. + +Of a sudden the pilfered necklace secreted in an inner pocket of his +waistcoat, above his heart, seemed to have gained the weight of so much +lead. The hideous consciousness of the thing stung like the bite of live +coals. + +This woman was in distress; he yearned to lighten her burden; he could do +that with half a dozen words; his guilt prohibited. + +A thief! + +Now indeed the Lone Wolf tasted shame and realized its bitterness.... + +Puzzled by his constraint, the girl's eyes again sought his; and warned +in time by the movement of her head, he mustered impudence to meet their +question with the look of tenderness that went with the rôle she suffered +him to play. + +"What is the matter?" + +"I am ashamed that I have failed you...." + +"Don't think of that. I know you did your best. Only tell me what became of +it." + +"It was stolen; when I returned to my stateroom that night I was held up +and robbed. The thief shot at me, killed his confederate, decamped by +way of the port. I pursued. Another aided him to overpower and cast me +overboard." + +"Yet you escaped...!" + +Strange she should seem more intrigued by that than concerned about her +loss! + +"I escaped, no matter how...." + +"You don't know who stole the packet?" + +"I don't recall the man among the passengers, but he may have been in one +of the boats, a fellow of about my stature, with a flowing beard...." + +He sketched broadly Ekstrom as he had seen him in the Stanistreet library. + +Her eyes quickened. + +"One such escaped in our boat, the second steward; I think his name was +Anderson." + +"Doubtless the same." + +"Then it is gone!" + +For once in his acquaintance with her, that brave spirit seemed to falter: +she became a burden, bereft for a little of all grace and spontaneity. + +He was constrained to swing her forcibly into time. + +Almost instantly she recollected herself, covered her lapse with a little +laugh innocent of any hint of its forced falsity, and showed him and the +room as well a radiant countenance: all with such address and art that the +incident might well have escaped notice, otherwise have passed for a bit of +natural by-play. + +Yet distress was too eloquent in the broken query: "What _am_ I to do?" + +Heartsick, self-sick to boot, he essayed to suggest that she consult +Colonel Stanistreet, but lacking so much effrontery, stammered and fell +silent. + +Perhaps misinterpreting, she cried in quick contrition: "I am forgetting! +Forgive me. I should have said: what are you to do?" + +He whipped his wits together. + +"Look down, turn your face aside, smile.... I have a plan, a desperate +remedy, but the best I can contrive. When next the lift comes up, we must +try to be near it. There is one row of tables which we must break through +by main force. Leave that to me, follow as I clear a way, go straight into +the lift. If anything happens, run down the stairway on the left. The +ground floor is two flights below. If I am any way detained, don't stop--go +on, get your wraps, take the first taxi you see, return directly to the +Knickerbocker. I will telephone you later." + +"If you live," she breathed. + +"Never fear for me...." + +"But if I do? Do you imagine I could rest if I thought you had sacrificed +yourself for me?" + +"You must not think that. I am far too selfish--" + +"That is not so. And I refuse positively to do as you wish unless you tell +me how I may communicate with you." + +Resigned to humour her, he recited his address and the number of the house +telephone, and when she had memorized both by iteration, resumed: + +"Once outside, if anybody tries to hinder you, don't let them intimidate +you into keeping quiet, but scream, scream at the top of your lungs. These +beasts abominate a screaming woman, or any other undue noise. Not only will +that frighten them off, but it will fetch the nearest policeman." + +The music ceased. She stood flushed, smiling, adorably pretty, eyes +star-like for him alone. + +"We are not far from the lift now," she said just audibly. + +"But the door is shut. Hush. Here comes the encore. Once more around...." + +They drifted again into that witching maze of melody and movement made one. + +"You are silent," she said, after a little. "Why?" + +Lanyard answered with a warning pressure on her hand. + +The elevator was stationary at the floor, its door wide, the maître d'hôtel +engaged in a far quarter of the room, while those four formidable guardians +of the exit were gossiping with animation over their glasses. + +"Steady. Now is our time." + +Abruptly they stopped. A couple that had been following them avoided +collision by a close margin. Over his partner's head the man scowled +portentously--and dissipated his display of temper on Lanyard's indifferent +back. + +Upon those guests who sat between the dancing floor and elevator, Lanyard +wasted no consideration. Pushing roughly between two adjoining tables, he +lifted one chair with its astonished occupant bodily out of the way, then +turned, swung an arm round the girl's waist, all but threw her through the +lane he had created, followed without an instant's pause. + +It was all so quickly accomplished that the girl was in the car before +another person in the room appreciated what was happening. And Lanyard, in +the act of slamming the door shut without heed for the protesting operator, +saw only a room full of amazed faces with gaping mouths and rounded +eyes--and one man of the four at the near-by table in the act of rising +uncertainly, with a stupefied look. + +Elbowing the boy aside, he seized the operating lever and thrust it to the +notch labelled "Descend." An instant of pause followed: like its attendant +the elevator seemed stalled in inertia of stupefaction. + +Beyond the door somebody loosed an infuriated screech. Angry hands +drummed on the glass panel. With a premonitory shudder the car started +spasmodically, moved downward at first gently, then with greater speed, +coming to an abrupt stop at the street level with a shock that all but +threw its passengers from their feet. + +Up the shaft that senseless punishment of the panel continued. Some other +intelligence conceived the notion for ringing for the car to return: its +annunciator buzzed stridently, continuously. + +Unlatching the lower door, Lanyard threw it back, stepped out, finding the +lobby deserted but for a simpering group of coat-room girls, to one of whom +he flipped a silver dollar. + +"Find this lady's wraps--be quick!" + +Deftly catching the coin, the girl snatched the check from Cecelia Brooke, +and darted into the women's dressing room. + +Throughout a wait of agonising suspense, the elevator boy remained cowering +in a corner of the car, staring at Lanyard as at some shape of terror, +while the ignored buzzer droned without cessation to persistent pressure +from above. + +Out of the dark entrance to the lower dining room the bearded diplomatist +popped with the distracted look of a jack-in-the-box about to be ravished +of its young. + +"Monsieur is not leaving?" he expostulated shrilly, darting forward. + +Lanyard stopped him with a look whose menace was like a kick. + +"I am seeing this lady to her cab," he said in a cold and level voice. + +The coat-room girl emerged from her lair with an armful of wraps and furs. + +Again the bearded one made as if to block the doorway. + +"But, monsieur--mademoiselle--!" + +Lanyard caught the fellow's arm and sent him spinning like a top. + +"Out of the way, you rat!" he snapped; then to the girl: "Be quick!" + +As she shouldered into a compartment of the revolving door incoherent yells +began to echo down the staircase well. At length it had occurred to those +above to utilize that means of descent. + +Wedged in the wheeling door, a final glimpse of the lobby showed Lanyard +the startled, putty-like mask of the maître d'hôtel at the head of +the stairway with, beyond him, the head of one who, though in shadow, +uncommonly resembled Ekstrom--but Ekstrom as he was in the old days, +without his beard. + +That picture passed like a flash on a cinema screen. + +They were on the sidewalk, and the girl was running toward a taxicab, the +only vehicle of its sort in sight, at the curb just above the entrance. + +Coatless and bareheaded, Lanyard swung to face the door porter, a towering, +brawny animal in livery, self-confident and something more than keen to +interfere; but his mouth, opening to utter some sort of protest, shut +suddenly without articulation when Lanyard displayed for his benefit a .22 +Colt's automatic. And he fell back smartly. + +Jerking open the cab door, the girl stumbled into the far corner of the +seat. The motor was churning in promising fashion, the chauffeur settling +into place at the wheel. Into his hand Lanyard thrust a ten-dollar bill. + +"The Knickerbocker," he ordered. "Stop for nobody. If followed steer for +the nearest policeman. There'll be no change." + +He closed the door sharply, leaned over it, dropped the little pistol into +the girl's lap. + +"Chances are you won't want that--but you may." + +She bent forward quickly, eyes darkly lustrous with alarm, and placed a +hand upon his arm. + +"But you?" + +"It is I whom they want, not you. I won't subject you to the hazard of my +company." + +Gently Lanyard lifted the hand from his sleeve, brushed it gallantly with +his lips, released it. + +"Good-night!" he laughed, then stepped back, waved a hand to the +chauffeur--"Go!" + +The taxicab shot away like a racing hound unleashed. With a sigh of relief +Lanyard gave himself wholly to the question of his own salvation. + +The rank of waiting motor-cars offered no hope: all but one were private +town cars and limousines, operated by liveried drivers. A solitary roadster +at the head of the line tempted and was rejected; even though it had no +guardian chauffeur, something of which he could not be sure, he would +be overhauled before he could start the motor and get the knack of its +gear-shift mechanism. Even now Au Printemps was in frantic eruption, its +doors ejecting violently a man at each wild revolution. + +Down Broadway an omnibus of the Fifth Avenue line lumbered, at no less +speed than twenty miles an hour, without passengers and sporting an +illuminated "Special" sign above the driver's seat. + +Dashing out into the roadway, Lanyard launched himself at the narrow +platform of the unwieldy vehicle and, in spite of a yell of warning from +the guard, landed safely on the step and turned to repel boarders. + +But his manoeuvre had been executed too swiftly and unexpectedly. The group +before Au Printemps huddled together in ludicrous inaction, as if stunned. +Then one raged through it, plying vicious elbows. As he paused against the +light Lanyard identified unmistakably the silhouette of Ekstrom. + +So that one had, after all, escaped the net of his own treachery! + +The 'bus guard was shaking Lanyard's arm with an ungentle hand. + +"Here, now, you got no business boardin' a Special." + +From his pocket Lanyard whipped the first bank-note his fingers +encountered. + +"Divide that with the chauffeur," he said crisply--"tell him to drive like +the devil. It's life or death with me!" + +The protruding eyeballs of the guard bore witness to the magnitude of the +bribe. + +"You're on!" he breathed hoarsely, and ran forward through the body of the +conveyance to advise the driver. + +Swarming up the curved stairway to the roof, Lanyard dropped into the rear +seat, looking back. + +The group round the doorway was recovering from its stupefaction. Three +struck off from it toward the line of waiting cars. Of these the foremost +was Ekstrom. + +Simultaneously the 'bus, lumbering drunkenly, lurched into Columbus Circle, +and the roadster left the curb carrying in addition to the driver two +passengers--Ekstrom on the running-board. + +Tardily Lanyard repented of that impulse which had moved him to bestow his +one weapon upon Cecelia Brooke. + +The night air had a biting edge. A chill rain had begun to drizzle down in +minute globules of mist, which both lent each street light its individual +nimbus of gold and dulled deceitfully the burnished asphaltum, rendering +its surface greasy and treacherous. More than once Lanyard feared lest +the 'bus skid and overturn; and before the old red brick building between +Broadway and Eighth Avenue shut out the western sector of the Circle, he +saw the roadster, driven insanely, shoot crabwise toward the curb, than +answer desperate work at the wheel and whirl madly, executing a volte-face +so violent that Ekstrom's hold was broken and he was hurled a dozen feet +away. And Lanyard's chances were measurably advanced by the delay required +in order to pick up the sprawling one, start the engine anew, and turn more +cautiously to resume the pursuit. + +Striking diagonally across Broadway the 'bus swung into Fifty-seventh +Street at the moment when the roadster turned the corner of Columbus +Circle. + +The head of the guard lifted above the edge of the roof. Clinging to the +supports of the stairway, he addressed Lanyard in accents of blended +suspicion and respect. + +"Lis'n, boss: is this all right, on the level, now?" + +"Absolutely, unless that racing-car catches up with us, in which case +you'll have a dead man--myself--on your hands." + +"Well ... we don't wanna lose our jobs, that's all." + +"You won't unless I lose my life." + +"Anything you'd like me to do?" + +"Go down, wait on the platform, if anybody attempts to get aboard kick him +in the act." + +"Sure I will!" + +The guard disappeared. + +Wallowing like a barge in a strong seaway, the omnibus crossed Seventh +Avenue and sped downhill toward Sixth with dangerous momentum. Shortly, +however, this began to be modified by the brakes, a precaution against +mishap which even the fugitive must approve. Ahead loomed the gaunt +structure of the Sixth Avenue "L," bridging the roadway at so low an +elevation as to afford the omnibus little more than clear headroom. Once +beneath it a single bounce up from the surface-car tracks must mean a +wreck. + +But the pursuit was less than half a block astern and gaining swiftly, even +as the speed of the omnibus was growing less and desperately less. + +At what seemed little better than a snail's pace it began to pass beneath +the span of the Elevated. + +Like a racing thoroughbred the roadster swept up alongside, motor chanting +triumphantly, running-board level with the platform step. + +Ekstrom, poised to leap aboard, hesitated; a pistol in his hand exploded; a +shattered window fell crashing. + +There was a yell from the guard, not of pain but of fright. Apparently he +executed a von Hindenburg retreat. Without more opposition Ekstrom gained +the platform. + +In the same breath Lanyard stood up. The lowermost girder of the "L" was +immediately overhead. He grasped it, doubled his legs beneath him, swung +clear. The omnibus shot from under him, the roadster convoying. + +Drawing himself up, he seized a round iron upright of guard-rail and heaved +his body in over the edge of the platform round the switching-tower, which +was at this hour dark and untenanted. + +In the street below a police whistle shrieked, and a fusillade of pistol +shots woke scandalised echoes. + +Bending almost double Lanyard moved rapidly northward on the footway beside +the western tracks, and so gained the old station on the west side of +Fifty-eighth Street, for years dedicated to the uses of desuetude. Through +this he crept, then down the stairs, encountering at the lower landing an +iron gate which obliged him to climb over and jump. + +Not a soul paid the least attention to this matter of a gentleman in +evening dress without hat or top coat dropping from the stairway of a +disused elevated station at two o'clock in the morning. + +In New York anything can happen, and most things do, without stirring up +meddlesome impulses in innocent bystanders. + + + + +XIX + +FORCE MAJEURE + + +This visit to his rooms was the briefest of the several Lanyard made that +night, considerations of mortal urgency dictating its drastic abbreviation. + +If the events of the last few hours had meant anything whatever they had +demonstrated two truths which shone like beacon lights: that Manhattan +Island was overpopulated as long as both he and Ekstrom remained on it; +that Ekstrom had been goaded to the verge of aberration by the discovery +that Lanyard had come safely through the _Assyrian_ débâcle to take up anew +his self-appointed office of Nemesis to the Prussian spy system in general +and to the genius of its American bureau in particular. + +Henceforth that one would know no more rest while Lanyard lived. + +Thus that little street-level apartment forfeited whatever attractions it +originally had possessed in the adventurer's estimation. Not only was the +address known to Ekstrom's associates, and so open to him, but its peculiar +characteristics, its facilities for access from the street direct, rendered +it a highly practicable death-trap for a hunted man. + +Lanyard was well persuaded he need only wait there long enough to receive a +deputation from Seventy-ninth Street. And with any assurance that Ekstrom +would come alone, he might have been content to wait. Not only had he +through too intimate acquaintance with his methods every assurance that +Ekstrom would never brave alone what he could induce another to risk with +him, but Lanyard was never one willing to play the passive part. + +A banal axiom of all warfare applied: The advantage is with him who fights +upon the offensive. + +Since midnight the offensive had shifted from Lanyard's grasp to the +enemy's. He was determined to recapture it; and that was something never to +be accomplished by sitting still and waiting for events to unfold, but only +by carrying the war into the enemy's camp. + +He delayed, then, only long enough to change his clothing and to conceal +about him certain properties which it seemed unwise to expose to chance +discovery on the part of Ekstrom or in the ever-possible event of police +intervention. + +Within five minutes from the time of his return he was closing behind him +the private door. + +Wearing a quiet lounge suit but no top coat, with a hat not so soft as to +lack character but soft enough to stick upon one's head in time of action, +and carrying a stick neither brutishly stout nor ineffectively slender, +he strolled up to Seventh Avenue, turned north, entered Central Park--and +strolled no more. + +Kindly shadows enfolded him, engulfed him altogether. One minute after he +had passed through the gateway he would have defied unaided apprehension +by the most zealous officer of the peace. He went swiftly and secretly, +avoiding all lighted ways. + +Not till then did conscience stir and remind him of his slighted promise to +call up Cecelia Brooke. + +No time now for that; the errand that engaged him was of a nature to brook +no more procrastination. The girl must wait. He was sorry if, as she had +protested, solicitude for his welfare must interfere with her night's rest. +But what must be, must: until he saw the end of this adventure he could be +influenced by no minor consideration whatsoever. + +Not that he seriously believed Cecelia's sleep would be uneasy because of +him. That was too much. + +His temper was grim and skeptical. The resentment roused by the trap that +had so nearly laid him by the heels, together with the subsequent effort to +assassinate him out of hand, had settled into a phase of smouldering fury +whose heat consumed like misty vapours every lesser emotion, every humane +consideration. + +Some by-thought recalling the Weringrode's innuendo that he was in love +without his knowledge, moved him to laugh outright if strangely, an +unpleasant laugh that held as much of pain as of derision. + +What room in that dark heart of his for love?... the heart of a thief and a +potential assassin, the heart of the Lone Wolf!... + +How was he to know he had hardly left his lodgings before their hush was +interrupted by the grumble of the house telephone? + +Intermittently for upward of three minutes that sound persisted. When +at length it discontinued the quiet of the untenanted rooms reigned +undisturbed for a brief time only. + +An odd metallic stridor became audible, a succession of scrapings of +stealthy accent at the private entrance. Its latch clicked. The door swung +back against the wall with a muffled bump. Two pairs of furtive feet padded +in the little private hallway. The flash of an electric hand-lamp flickered +hither and yon like a searching poignard, picked out the door to the one +bedchamber and vanished. There was guarded whispering, then a thud as one +of the intruders gained the middle of the bedchamber in a bound. An instant +later a switch snapped, and the room was flooded with light. + +Beneath the chandelier stood a man in evening dress the worse for +misadventure, one knee of his trousers cut open, both legs caked with +a film of half-dry mud, his linen dingy with mud-stains, his top coat +shockingly bedraggled. He was bareheaded, apparently having lost his hat; a +black smear across one cheek added emphasis to the pallor of newly shaven +jowls; and his eyes were blazing. + +"Stole away!" he muttered briefly in disgust, then called: "Ed!" + +As quietly as a shadow a second man joined him, greeting him with a "Hush!" + +This gentleman was in far more presentable repair and a more equable frame +of mind. There was even a glint of amusement in his hard blue eyes. His +countenance had an Irish cast. + +"Hush?" the other iterated with contempt. "What for? The hound's not here." + +"No, Karl," Ed admitted; "but there are others in the house. If it's known +to them that Lanyard's out, they may turn in a police alarm; and I for one +have had enough of bulls for one night." + +Karl grunted disdainfully. "I told you this would be a waste of time...." + +"And I agreed with you entirely. But you would come." + +"Lanyard's no such fool as to stick round a place he knows I know about." +Karl's hands twitched and his features worked nervously. "He knows me too +well, knows that if ever I lay hands on him again--" + +His voice was rising to an hysterical pitch when the other checked him with +a sibilant hiss. At the same time his hand darted out and switched off the +light. Karl uttered a startled ejaculation. + +"_Sssh_!" his companion repeated. + +In the street a motor-car was rumbling, stationary before the door. Then +the remote grinding of the house door-bell was heard. + +"Let's get out of this," suggested the Irishman. "It's no good waiting, +anyway." + +"Hold hard! We won't go till we have a clear field." + +The Prussian stole out into the sitting room and stood listening at the +door to the public hallway, his companion standing by with a mutinous air. + +"Oh, come along!" he insisted, in a stage whisper. + +"Shut up! Listen...." + +Shuffling footfalls traversed the hallway. The front door was opened. The +clear voice of an Englishwoman was answered in the slurring patois of a +negro. + +"No'm, he ain't in." + +The next enquiry was intelligible: the speaker had entered the hallway. + +"Are you sure?" + +"Yas'm. Sumbody done call him up 'bout ten min'tes ago, an' I rung an' rung +an' he don' answer. He ain't in or he don' mean to answer nobody, tha's +all." + +"I am very anxious about him. Have you a key to his rooms?" + +"Yas'm, I got a pass-key, but--" + +"Please use it. Take this. Go in and make sure he is out, or if at home +that he is all right." + +"Yas'm, thanky ma'am, but--" + +"Do as I tell you. I will see that you don't get into trouble." + +"All right, ma'am." The negro chuckled, probably over his tip. "Yo' sho' +has got the p'suadin'est way...." + +The Irishman caught the German's arm. "Come out of this," he pleaded. + +"No fear. I'll see it through. That's the Brooke girl the fool got in with +on the boat. She may know something...." + +"But--" + +"Leave this to me. You look out for the negro. I'll take care of Miss +Cecelia Brooke." + +Swearing unhappily, the Irishman flattened against the wall to one side of +the door. Karl waited behind it as it admitted the hall attendant, who made +directly toward the central chandelier. + +"Yo' jes' wait, ma'am, an' I'll mek a light an'--" + +But the girl had impetuously followed him in. + +The light went up, and Karl put a heavy shoulder against the door, closing +it with a slam. The negro turned and stood with gaping mouth and staring +eyes, dumb with terror. The girl recognised Karl with a little cry, and +darted back toward the door. Immediately he caught her in his arms. Her +lips opened, but their utterance was stifled by a handkerchief thrust +between them with the dexterity of a practised hand. + +Without one word of warning the Irishman stepped forward and struck the +negro brutally in the face. The boy reeled, whimpering. Two more blows +delivered with murderous ferocity silenced him altogether. He collapsed +like a broken puppet, insensible on the floor, his face a curious ashen +colour beneath its glossy skin of brown. + + + + +XX + +RIPOSTE + + +The drizzle had grown thicker, the night blacker, the early morning air +still more chill. But Lanyard was moving too swiftly to be affected by +this last circumstance; the first he anathematised with the perfunctory +bitterness of a skilled artisan who sees his work in a fair way to be +obstructed by elemental depravity. Another of his trade would have termed +such weather conditions ideal, and so might the Lone Wolf on an everyday +job; but the prospect of a footing rendered insecure by rain trebled the +hazards attending a plan of campaign that would brook neither revision nor +delay. + +There was only one way to break into the house on Seventy-ninth Street; +this Lanyard had appreciated upon his first reconnaissance of the previous +afternoon. He could have wished for more time in which to prepare and +assemble tested equipment instead of relying upon chance to supply +the requisite gear; but with all time at his disposal the mechanical +difficulties of the problem would remain. Far from indifferent to these, +Lanyard addressed himself to their conquest doggedly and with businesslike +economy of motion. + +Shunning the public paths he went over the park wall like a cat, sped +across town through Eightieth Street, and so came to that plot of land upon +which an apartment building was in process of erection, immediately to the +north of the American headquarters of the Prussian spy system. + +Walled in with stone two storeys deep, its gaunt skeleton of steel had +been joined together as far as the seventh level. How much higher it was +destined to rise was immaterial; for Lanyard's purpose it was enough that +the frame had already outgrown its neighbour on the south. + +A litter of lumber, huge steel girders, and other material narrowed the +side street to half its normal width. The sidewalk space was trampled earth +roofed with heavy planks for the protection of pedestrian heads, a passage +lighted by electric bulbs widely spaced; midway in this an entrance to +the structure was flanked by a wooden shanty, by day a tool house, after +working hours a shelter for the night watchman. This boasted one glazed +window dull with orange light. + +Approaching with due precaution, Lanyard peered in. The light came from a +single electric bulb and a potbellied sheet-iron stove, glowing red. Near +by, in a chair tipped against the wall, sat the watchman, corncob pipe +in hand, head drooping, eyes closed, mouth ajar. A snore of the first +magnitude seemed to vibrate the very walls. On the floor beside the chair +stood a two-quart tin pail full of arid emptiness. + +Dismissing further consideration of the watchman as a factor, satisfied +that the entire neighbourhood as well was sound asleep, Lanyard darted up +the plank walk that led into the building, then paused to get his bearings. + +Effluvia of mortar and damp lumber saluted him in an uncanny place whose +darkness was slightly qualified by a faint refracted glow from the low +canopy of cloud and by equally dim shafts of diffused street light. There +was more or less flooring of a temporary character over a sable gulf of +cellars, and overhead a sullen, weeping sky cross-hatched with stark black +ironwork. + +With infinite patience Lanyard groped his way through that dark labyrinth +to the foot of a ladder ascending an open shaft wherein a hoisting tackle +dangled. + +Here he stumbled over what he had been seeking, a great coil of one-inch +hempen cable, from which he measured off roughly what he would require, if +his calculations were correct, and something over. This length he re-coiled +and slung over his shoulder: an awkward, weighty handicap. Nevertheless he +began to climb. + +Above the third level there was merely steel framework; he had somewhat +more light to guide him, with a view of the north wall of the Seventy-ninth +Street house, bright in the glare of avenue lamps. + +The wall was absolutely blank. + +At the seventh level the ladders ended. He stepped off upon a foot-wide +beam, paused to make sure of his poise, and began to walk the girders with +a sureness of foot any aviator might have envied. + +At regular intervals he encountered uprights: between these he had to +depend upon his sense of direction and equilibrium to guide him safely +across those narrow walks of steel made slippery by rain. + +But, thanks to forethought, his footwork was faultless: he wore shoes old, +well-broken, very soft, flexible, and silent. + +The building was in the shape of a squat E, with two courts facing south. +On this seventh level the first court was bridged by a single girder, the +middle of which was Lanyard's immediate objective. Since it lacked uprights +he took it cautiously on hands and knees until approximately equidistant +from both ends, when he straddled it, took the cable from his shoulders, +uncoiled a length and made it fast round the girder with a clove hitch: +giddy work, in that darkness, on that greasy span, fashioning by simple +sense of touch the knot upon which his life was to depend, half of the time +prone upon the girder and fishing blindly beneath it for the rope's end, +with nothing but a seventy--foot drop between him and eternity, not even +another girder to break a fall.... + +He was now immediately opposite the minaret, at an elevation of about +twenty feet above the roof he wished to reach, and as far away, or perhaps +a trifle farther. + +Still he detected no signs of life about that nest of spies: if the +wireless were in operation its apparatus was well-housed; there was no +sound of the spark, never a glimmer of its violet flash. + +Laboriously--the knot completed to his satisfaction--Lanyard returned via +the eastern arm of the E, paying out the coiled cable as he progressed, +working round to the north side of the court. + +Once again pausing opposite the minaret, he knotted the end of the cable +loosely round an upright connecting with the sixth level, let it slide +down, followed it, repeated the process, and rested finally on the fifth. + +Now his ordeal approached a climax which he contemplated with what calmness +he could while securing the rope beneath the arms. + +In another sixty seconds or less it must be demonstrated whether his dead +reckoning would set him down safe and sound on the roof or dash him against +the walls of the Seventy-ninth Street house, to swing back and dangle +impotently in mid-air till daylight and police discovered him--unless, +escaping injury, he were able to pull himself up hand over hand to the +girder. + +With one arm round the upright to prevent the sag of rope from dragging him +over prematurely, he essayed a final survey. + +Either the murk deceived or Lanyard had judged shrewdly. His feet were on +an approximate level with the coping round the roof, and he stood about as +far from the upper girder to which the rope was hitched as that was distant +from the coping. + +One look up and round at those louring skies, duskily flushed by subdued +city lights: with no more ceremony Lanyard released the upright and +committed his body to space. + +If the downward sweep was breathless, what followed was breath-taking: +once past the nadir of that giant swing, he was borne upward by an impetus +steadily and sensibly slackening. + +Instant followed leaden-winged instant while the wall, looming like +a mountainside, seemed to be toppling, insensately bent upon his +annihilation; even so his momentum, decreasing with frightful swiftness, +seemed possessed of demoniac desire to frustrate him. + +After an age-long agony of doubt it became evident he was not destined +to crash into the wall, but not that he was to gain the coping: through +fractions of a second hideously protracted this last drew near, nearer, +slowly, ever more slowly. + +And he was twisting dizzily.... + +With frantic effort he crooked an arm over the coping at a juncture when, +had he not acted instantly, he must have swung back. There was a racking +wrench, as though his arm were being torn from its socket. + +At the end of a struggle even more wearing he flung his other arm across +the ledge, and for some time hung there, at the end of an almost taut rope, +unable to overcome its resistance and pull himself in over the coping, +stubbornly refusing to loose his grasp. + +Presently, grown desperate, he let go with his right hand, holding fast +only with the left, fumbled in a pocket, found his knife, opened it with +his teeth, and began, to saw at the rope round his chest. + +Strand after strand parted grudgingly till it fell away altogether and +reaction from its tension threw him against the coping with such violence +that he all but lost his hold. Dropping the knife, he swept his right arm +up and once more hooked his fingers over the inside of the ledge. + +Far down the knife clinked suggestively upon stone. + +Breathing deep, Lanyard braced knees and feet against the wall, worried, +heaved, hauled, squirmed like a mad thing, in the end rolled over the top +and fell at length upon the roof, panting, trembling, bathed in sweat, +temporarily tormented by impulses to retch. + +By degrees regaining physical control, he sat up, took his bearings, and +crept toward the foot of the minaret. + +A small, narrow doorway in its base was on the latch. He passed through to +the landing of a dark winding stairway with a dim light at the bottom of +its circular well. + +While he stood attentive, intermittent stridor troubled the stillness, +originating at some point on the floors below: the proscribed wireless was +at work. + +Hearing no other sounds, Lanyard went on down the steps, at their foot +pausing to spy out through a half-open doorway to the topmost storey. + +Nobody moved in the corridor. He saw nothing but a line of closed doors, +presumably to servants' quarters. Now, however, the vibrant rasp of the +radio spark was perceptibly stronger and had a background of subdued noise, +echoes of distant voices, deadened sounds of hasty footfalls, now and again +a heavy thump or the bang of a door. + +Moving out, he commanded the length of the corridor. Toward one end a door +stood open. He could see no more of the room beyond than a narrow patch of +wall fitfully illuminated by a play of violet light. + +Then a man stepped out of this operating room, turning on the threshold to +utter some parting observation; and Lanyard retired hastily to the shaft of +the minaret stairway, but not before recognising Velasco. + +A moment later the Brazilian passed his lurking-place, walking with bended +head, a worried frown darkening his swarthy countenance; and Lanyard +emerged in time to see his head and shoulders vanish down a stairway at the +far end of the corridor. + +Following with discretion, Lanyard leaned over the head of the main +staircase well, looking down three flights to the ground floor, to which +Velasco was descending. + +The house seemed veritably to hum with secret and, to judge by the pitch of +its rumour, well-nigh panic activity. One divined a scurrying as of +rats about to desert a sinking ship. Untoward events had thrown this +establishment into a state of excited confusion: their nature Lanyard could +not surmise, but their conjunction with his designs was exasperatingly +inopportune. To search this place and find his man--if he were there at +all--without being discovered, while its inmates buzzed about like so many +startled hornets, was a fair impossibility; to attempt it was to court +death. + +None the less he was inflexible in determination to go on, to push his luck +to its extremity, by sheer force to bend fortuity to his service and suffer +without complaint whatever the consequences of its recoil. + +Yet even as he advanced a foot to begin the descent, he withdrew it. + +On the ground floor, a door closing with a resounding crash had proved the +signal for an outburst of expostulant, acrimonious voices: some half a +dozen men giving angry tongue at one and the same time, their roars of +polysyllabic gutturalisms fusing into utterly unintelligible clamour. + +One thought of a mutiny in a German madhouse. + +Moment after moment passed, the squall persisting with unmitigated +viciousness. If now and again it subsided momentarily, it was only into +uglier growls and swiftly to rise once more to high frenzy of incoherence. + +Two of the disputants appeared in the square frame of the staircase well, +oddly foreshortened figures brandishing wild arms, one of them Velasco, the +other a man whom Lanyard failed to identify, seemingly united in common +anger directed at the head of some person invisible. + +Abruptly, with a gesture of almost homicidal fury, the Brazilian darted out +of sight. The other followed. + +Then the object of their wrath took to the stairs, stopping at the rail +of the first landing and gesticulating savagely over the heads of his +audience, Velasco and the others returning amid a knot of fellows to bay +round the newel post. + +His voice, full-throated, cried them all down--Ekstrom's deep and resonant +voice, domineering over the uproar, hectoring one after another into sullen +silence. + +In the beginning employing nothing but terms and phrases of insolence and +objurgation untranslatable, when he had secured a measure of attention he +delivered a short address in tones of unqualified contempt. + +"I will have obedience!" he stormed. "Let no one misunderstand my status +here: I am come direct from His Majesty the Emperor with full power and +authority to command and direct affairs which you have, individually, +collectively, proved yourselves either unfit or unable to cope with. What I +do, I do in my absolute discretion, with the full sanction and confidence +of the Kaiser. He who questions my judgment or my actions, questions the +wisdom of the All-Highest. Let it be clearly understood I am answerable +to no one under God but myself and my Imperial master. Henceforth be good +enough to hold your tongues or take the consequences--and be damned to you +all!" + +Briefly he stood glowering down at their upturned faces, then sneered, and +turned away. + +"Come along, O'Reilly," he said. "Fetch the woman, and give no more heed to +swine-dogs!" + +His hand slipped up the rail to the first floor, vanished. + +If O'Reilly followed with the woman mentioned, both kept back from the rail +and so out of Lanyard's field of vision. + +The group at the foot of the stairs moved away, grumbling profanely. + +At once Lanyard began to descend, rapidly and without care to avoid +detection. + +One flight down he met face to face a manservant, evidently a footman, with +an armful of clothing which he was conveying from one chamber to another. +The fellow stopped short, jaw dropping, eyes popping; whereupon Lanyard +paused and addressed him in German with a manner of overbearing contempt, +that is to say, in character. + +"You're wanted upstairs in the radio room," he said--"at once!" + +The servant bleated one word of protest: "But--!" + +"Be silent. Do as I bid you. It is an emergency. Drop those things and go! +Do you hear, imbecile?" + +Completely cowed and cheated, the man obeyed literally, letting his burden +of garments fall to the floor and bounding hurriedly up the stairs. + +Another flight was negotiated without misadventure; on this floor as well +servants were flitting busily to and fro, but none favoured the adventurer +with the least attention. + +Midway down the third flight he pulled up to one side of the landing, and +reconnoitred. It was on the next floor below, the first above the street, +that Ekstrom had stopped. But in what quarter thereof? The exigency forbade +the risk of one false turn. If Lanyard were to take Ekstrom unawares it +must be at the first cast. + +From the ground floor came semi-coherent snatches of surly comment, like +growls of a thunderstorm passing off into the distance: + +"_At a time such as this_...." + +"... _Secret Service snapping at our heels_ ..." + +"... _base on the Vineyard discovered_ ..." + +"... _Au Printemps raided, Sophie Weringrode under arrest. God knows +whether she will hold her tongue_!" + +"_Trust her! But this ass_ ..." + +"_Bringing a woman here, putting all our necks into a halter_ ..." + +Immediately opposite the foot of the stairway, on the first storey, a door +opened. O'Reilly came alertly forth, closed the door behind him, paused, +fished in his pocket for a cigarette case, lighted and inhaled with deep +appreciation, meantime eavesdropping on the utterances below with his head +cocked to one side and a malicious smile shadowing his handsome Irish face. + +In his own good time he shrugged an indifferent shoulder, thrust his hands +into his pockets, and sauntered coolly on down the stairs. + +The moment he disappeared, Lanyard went into action, in two bounds cleared +landing and stairs, in another threw himself upon the door. It opened +readily. Entering, he put his back to it, with his left hand groped for, +found and turned a key, his right holding ready the automatic pistol he had +taken from the lockers of the U-boat. + +The room was a combination of administrative bureau and study, very +handsomely if somewhat over-decorated and furnished, with an atmosphere as +distinctively German as that of a Bierstube, the sombreness of its colour +scheme lending weight to its array of massive desks, tables, chairs, +bookcases, and lounges. + +Between great draped windows and an impressive chimney-piece opposite, +beside a broad, long desk, in a straight-backed chair sat a woman, gagged, +bound as to her wrists, strips of cloth which had but lately bound ankles +as well on the floor about her feet. + +That woman was Cecelia Brooke. + +Ekstrom stood behind her, in the act of loosening the knots which held the +gag secure. + +For a space of thirty seconds, transfixed by the apparition of his enemy, +he did not stir other than to raise weaponless hands in deference to the +pistol trained upon his head. But the blood ebbed from his face, leaving +it a ghastly mask in which shone the eyes of a man who sees certain death +closing in upon him and is powerless to combat it, even to die fighting for +life. And his lips curled back in a snarl neither of contempt nor of hatred +but of terror. + +And for as long Lanyard remained as motionless, rooted in a despondency +of thwarted hopes no less profound than the despair of the Prussian, +apprehending what that one could not yet guess, that once more, and now +certainly for the last time, vengeance was denied him, the fulfilment of +all his labours and their sole purpose snatched from his grasp. + +The instincts of a killer were not his. Barring injudicious attempt to +summon aid or take the offensive, Ekstrom was safe from injury at the hands +of Michael Lanyard. His cunning, his favour in the countenance of fortune, +or whatever it was that had enabled him to make the girl his prisoner and +bring her here, bade fair to prove his salvation. + +Deep in Lanyard's consciousness an echo stirred of half-forgotten words: +"_Vengeance is mine_...." + +The sense of frustration brewed a hopelessness as stark as that of a +brow-beaten child. A blackness seemed to be settling down upon his +faculties. A mist wavered momentarily before his eyes. He gulped +convulsively, swallowing what had almost been a sob. + +But he spoke in a voice positively dispassionate. + +"Keep your hands up." + +Lanyard removed and pocketed the key, crossed to the middle of the room +without once letting his gaze waver from the face of the Prussian, +passed behind him, planted the muzzle of the pistol beneath Ekstrom's +shoulder-blade, and methodically searched him, finding and putting aside on +the desk one automatic, nothing else. + +"Stand aside!" + +The almost puerile measure of his disappointment was betrayed in the thrust +with which he shouldered Ekstrom out of the way, so forcibly that the man +was sent staggering wildly half a dozen paces. + +"Don't move, assassin!... Pardon, mademoiselle: one moment," Lanyard +muttered, with his one free hand undoing the gag. + +He made slow work of that, fumbling while watching Ekstrom with unremitting +intentness, hoping against hope that his enemy might make one false move, +one only, by some infatuate endeavour to turn the tables excuse his +killing. + +But Ekstrom would not. Recovery of his equilibrium had been coincident with +the shock administered to his hardihood and sense of security by Lanyard's +entrance. He stood now in a pose of insouciant grace, hands idly clasped +before him, disdain glimmering in languid-lidded eyes, contempt in the set +of his lips--an ensemble eloquent of brazen effrontery, the outgrowth of +perception of the fact that Lanyard, being what he was, could neither shoot +him down in cold blood nor, with the Brooke girl present, even attempt to +injure him: compunctions unassembled in the make-up of the Boche, therefore +when discovered in men of other races at once despicable and ridiculous.... + +The gag came away. + +"Mademoiselle has not been injured?" Lanyard enquired, solicitous. + +The girl coughed and gasped, shaking her head, enunciating with difficulty +in little better than a husky whisper: "... roughly handled, nothing +worse." + +Lanyard's face burned as if his blood were molten mercury. "_Nothing +worse_!" Appreciation of what handling she must have suffered, if she had +resisted at all, before those beasts could have bound her, excited an +indignation from whose light, as it blazed in Lanyard's eyes, even Ekstrom +winced. + +The hand was tremulous with which he sought to loose her wrists, so much so +that she could not but notice. + +"Don't mind me--look to that man!" she begged. "Leave me to unfasten these +with my teeth. He can't be trusted for a single instant." + +"Mademoiselle," Lanyard mumbled, instinctively employing the French +idiom--"you have reason." + +For an instant only he hesitated, swayed this way and that by the maddest +of impulses, then resigned himself absolutely to their ascendancy. + +"This goes beyond all bounds," he said in an undertone. + +Deliberately leaving the Englishwoman to free herself according to her +suggestion--forgetful, indeed, for the moment, that she was not altogether +free--he moved to the desk and left his own automatic there beside +Ekstrom's. + +"Mademoiselle," he said mechanically, without looking at the girl, without +power to perceive aught else in the world but the white, evil face of his +enemy, "for what I am about to do, I beg you forgive me, of your charity. I +can endure no more. It is too much...." + +He strode past her. + +She twisted in her chair, then rose, following him with wide eyes of alarm +above her hands, whose bonds her teeth worried without rest. + +Ekstrom had not stirred, though one flash of pure exultation had +transfigured his countenance on comprehension of Lanyard's purpose: thanks +to the silly scruples of this animal, one more chance for life was granted +him. + +Nor would the Prussian give an inch when Lanyard paused, confronting him +squarely, within arm's length. + +"Ekstrom," the adventurer began in a voice lacking perceptible inflection +... "what is between you and me needs no recounting. You know it too +well--I likewise. It is my wish and my intention to kill you with my +two hands. Nothing can prevent that, not even what you count upon, my +reluctance--to you incomprehensible--to commit an act of violence in the +presence of a woman. But because Miss Brooke is here, because you have +brought her here by force, because you are what you are and so have treated +her insolently ... before we come to our final accounting, you shall get +down upon your knees and ask her pardon." + +He saw no yielding in the eyes of the Prussian, only arrogance; and when he +paused, he was answered in one phrase of the gutters of Berlin, couched in +the imagery of its lowest boozing-kens, so unspeakably vile in essence +and application that Lanyard heard it with an incredulity almost +stupefying--almost, not altogether. + +It was barely spoken when those lips that framed it were crushed by a blow +of such lightning delivery that, though he must have been prepared for it, +Ekstrom's guard was still lowered as he reeled back, lost footing, and went +to his knees. + +Panting, snarling, uttering teeth and blasphemy, the Prussian recoiled like +a serpent, gathered himself together and launched headlong at Lanyard, only +to be met full tilt by a second blow and a third, each more merciless than +its predecessor, beating him down once more. + +This time Lanyard did not wait for him to come back for punishment, but +closed in, catching him as he strove to rise, meeting each fresh effort +with ruthless accuracy, battering him into insanity of despair, so that +Ekstrom came back again and again without thought, animated only by +frenzied brute instinct to find the throat of his tormenter, and ever and +ever failing; till at length he crumpled and lay crushed and writhing, then +subsided into insensibility, was quite still but for heaving lungs and the +spasmodic clutchings of his broken and ensanguined fingers.... + +With a start, a broken sigh, a slight movement of the hand interpreting a +crushing sense of the futility of human passion, Lanyard relaxed, drew back +from standing over his antagonist, abstractedly found a handkerchief and +dried his hands, of a sudden so inexpressibly shamed and degraded in his +own sight that he dared not look the girl's way, but stood with hang-dog +air, avoiding her regard. + +Yet, could he have mustered up heart, he might have surprised in her eyes +a light to lift him out from this slough of humiliation, to obliterate +chagrin in a flood of wonder and--misgivings. + +When, however, he did after a moment turn to her, that look was gone, +replaced by one that reflected something of his own apprehension; for a +heavy hand was hammering on the study door, and more than one voice on the +other side was calling on "Karl" to open. + +Either the servant whom Lanyard had met and victimised on his way +downstairs had given the alarm, or else the noise of the encounter within +the study had brought that pack of spies to the door, wildly demanding +admission. + +Steadied by one swift exchange of alarmed glances with the girl, Lanyard +hastily reviewed the room, seeking some avenue of escape. None offered but +the windows. He ran to them, tore back their draperies, and found them +closed with shutters of steel and padlocked. + +Simultaneously the din at the door redoubled. + +With a worried shake Lanyard crossed to the chimney-piece, ducked his head, +and stepped into its huge fireplace. One upward glance sufficed to dash his +hopes: here was no way out, arduous though feasible; immediately above the +fireplace the flue narrowed so that not even the most active man of normal +stature might hope to negotiate its ascent. + +He returned with only a gesture of disconcertion to answer the girl's look +of appeal. + +"Can we do nothing?" she asked, raising her voice a trifle to make it heard +above the tumult in the corridor. + +"There's no help for it, I'm afraid," he said, going to the desk and taking +up the pistols--"nothing to do but shoot our way out, if we can. Take +this," he added, offering her one of the weapons, which she accepted +without spirit. "If you can't get your own consent to use it, give it to me +when I've emptied the other." + +She breathed a dismayed "Yes ..." and wonderingly consulted his face, since +he did not stir other than thoughtfully to replace his pistol on the desk, +then stood staring at his soot-smeared palms. + +"What is it?" she demanded nervously. "Why do you hesitate?" + +As one fretted by inconsequential questions, he merely shook his head, +glancing sidelong once at the unconscious Prussian, again with calculation +toward the door. + +This he saw quivering under repeated blows. + +With brusque decision he said: "Get a chair--brace it beneath the +door-knob, please!"--and leaving her without more explanation turned back +to the fireplace. + +Motionless, in dumb confusion, the girl stood staring after him till roused +by a blow of such splintering force as to suggest that an axe had been +brought into play upon the door, then ran to a ponderous club chair and +with considerable exertion managed to trundle it to the door and tip it +over, wedging its back beneath the knob. + +By this time it had become indisputably patent that an axe was battering +the panels. But the door, in character with the room, was a substantial +piece of workmanship and needed more than a few blows, even of an axe, to +break down its barrier of solid oak. + +She looked round to discover Lanyard kneeling beside Ekstrom, insanely--so +it seemed to the girl--engaged in blackening the upper half of the man's +face with a handful of soot. + +Unconsciously uttering a little cry of distress she sped to his side and +caught his shoulder with an importunate hand. + +"In Heaven's name, Monsieur Duchemin, what are you doing? Is this a time +for childishness--?" + +He responded with a smile of boyish mischief so genuine that her doubts of +his reason seemed all too well confirmed. + +"Making up my understudy," he said simply. And brushing his hands over the +rug to rid them of superfluous soot, Lanyard rose. "Please go back and +stand by the door--on the side of the hinges. I'll be with you in one +minute." + +Resigned to humour this lunatic whim--what else could she do?--the girl +retreated to the position designated, and watched with ever darker doubts +of his sanity, while Lanyard hurriedly drew the shells from his automatic +and carefully placed its butt in the slack grasp of Ekstrom's fingers. + +Then, lifting from a near-by table a great cut-glass bowl of flowers, the +adventurer inverted it over Ekstrom's body. + +Expending its full force upon the man's chest, that miniature deluge +splashed widely, wetting his face, half filling his open mouth. Some of +the soot was washed away, but not a great deal: enough stuck fast to suit +Lanyard's purpose. + +Roused by that cool shock, half strangled as well, Ekstrom coughed +violently, squirmed, spat out a mouthful of water, and lifted on an elbow, +still more than half dazed. + +Joining the girl by the door, Lanyard saw the Prussian sit up and glare +blankly round the room, a figure of tragic fun, drenched, woefully +disfigured, eyes rolling wildly in the wide spaces round them which Lanyard +had left unblackened. + +Swinging the club chair away from the door, the adventurer placed it with +its back to the room. + +"Get down behind that," he indicated shortly, and drew the key from his +pocket. "Don't show yourself for your life. And let me have that pistol, +please." + +A bright triangular wedge of steel broke through one of the panels as he +fitted and turned the key in the lock. + +His wits clearing, Ekstrom saw him and with a howl of fury staggered to his +feet, clutching the unloaded pistol and endeavouring to level it for steady +aim. + +Simultaneously Lanyard turned the knob and let the door fly open, remaining +beside the chair that hid the girl. + +A knot of spies, O'Reilly and Velasco among them, whirled into the room, +pulled up at sight of that strange, grim figure, disguised beyond all +recognition by its half-mask of black, facing and menacing them with a +pistol. + +O'Reilly fired in the next breath, his shot echoed by half a dozen so +closely bunched as to resemble the rattle of a mitrailleuse. + +At the first report the pistol dropped from Ekstrom's grasp. He carried a +hand vaguely to his throat, staggered a single step, uttered a strangled +moan, and fell forward, his body fairly riddled, his death little short of +instantaneous. + +While the fusillade was still resounding Lanyard, seizing the girl's wrist, +unceremoniously dragged her from behind the chair and thrust her through +the door, retreating after her with his face to the roomfull, his pistol +ready. + +None of that lot paid him any heed, the attention of all wholly absorbed by +the tragedy their violent hands had wrought. Velasco, the first to stir, +ran forward and dropped to his knees beside the dead man. Others followed. + +Gently Lanyard drew the door to, locked it on the outside, and at the sound +of a choking cry from Cecelia Brooke, whirled smartly round, prepared if +need be to make good his promise to clear with gun-play a way to the street +though opposed by every inmate of the establishment. + +But the first face he saw was Crane's. + +The Secret Service man stood within a yard. To him as to a rock of refuge +Cecelia Brooke had flown, to his hand she was clinging like a frightened +child, trying to speak, failing because she choked on sobs and gasps of +horror. + +Behind him, on the landing at the head of the staircase, running up from +below, ascending to the upper storeys, were a score' or more of men of +sturdy and business-like bearing and indubitably American stamp. Of +these two were herding into a corner a little group of frightened German +servants. + +Lanyard's stare of astonishment was met by Crane's twisted smile. + +"My friend," he said, as quietly as anyone could with his accent of a +quizzical buzz-saw, "I sure got to hand it to you. Every time I try to pull +anything off on the dead quiet you beat me to it clean. Everywhere I think +you ain't and can't be, that's just where you are. But I ain't complaining; +I got to admit, if you hadn't staged your act to occupy the minds of those +gents in there, we might've had a lot more difficulty raiding this joint." + +Quickly he wound an arm round the waist of Cecelia Brooke when, without +warning, she swayed blindly and would have fallen. + +"Here, now!" he protested. "That's no way to do.... Why, she's flickered +out! Well, Monsieur Duchemin-Lanyard-Ember, to a man up a tree this looks +like your job. You take this little lady off my hands and see her home, and +I'll just naturally try and finish what I started--or what you did. For, +son, I got to give you credit: you sure are one grand li'l trouble-hound!" + + + + +XXI + +QUESTION + + +Through the breathing hush of that dark hour which foreruns the dawn, that +hour in which the head that knows a wakeful pillow is prone to sudden +and disquieting apprehension of its insignificance and it's soul's dread +isolation, the cab sped swiftly south upon the Avenue, shadowed reaches of +the park upon its right, upon its left the dull, tired faces of those homes +whose tenants lay wrapped in the cotton-wool of riches. + +The rain had ceased. A little wind was blowing up. There was a fresh +smell in the air. Sidewalks began to be maculated with spreading areas of +dryness, but the roadway was still wet and shining, the wide black mirror +of a myriad lights. + +Through the windows of the speeding cab an orderly procession of street +lamps, marching past, threw each its fugitive and pallid glimmer. Periods +of modified darkness intervened, when the face of the girl in her corner +seemed a vision subtle and wraithlike. But ever the recurrent lights +revealed her sweetly incarnate if deep in enervation of crushing weariness. + +Once she stirred and sighed profoundly; and Lanyard, bending toward her, +asked if he could be in any way of service. + +She replied in an undertone scarcely better than a whisper: "Thank you, I +am quite comfortable.... Please--what time is it?" + +The cab was passing Sixtieth Street. Lanyard caught a fleeting glimpse of a +street clock with a dial like a little golden moon. + +"It's just four." + +"Thank you...." + +"Very tired?" + +"Very...." + +He had the maddest notion that her head inclined to droop toward his +shoulder. Perhaps the motion of the cab.... If so, she recovered easily. + +"Can I do anything?" + +"No, thank you, only ..." An ungloved hand stirred from her lap and for +the merest instant rested lightly above his own, or hovered rather, barely +touching it with a touch tenuous and elusive, no sooner realised than gone. +"I mean," she murmured, "I am a bit too overwrought, too tired, to talk." + +"I quite understand," he said. "Please forget I'm here; just rest." + +Perhaps she smiled drowsily. Or was that, too, a freak of his imagination? +Lanyard assured himself it was, in excess of consideration even tried to +persuade himself he had dreamed that ghost of a caress upon his hand. It +seemed so little like her. + +Not that anything had happened more than a gesture of transient +inadvertence due to fatigue. It could not have been intentional, that act +of intimacy, when the girl was altogether engrossed in young Thackeray. + +There was something one must not forget, something that gave the lie flatly +to that innuendo of the Weringrode's. Ignorant of the circumstances the +intrigante had leaped blindly at conclusions, after the habit of her kind. + +True, Sophie had not implied that this girl cared for him, but vice versa: +either supposition, however, was as absurd as the other. As if Lanyard +could love a woman who loved another! As if the name of love meant aught +to him but the memory of a sweetness like a vagrant air of Spring that had +breathed fitfully for a season upon the Winter of his heart! + +A corner of Lanyard's mouth lifted in a sneer. That precious heart of +his! the heart of a thief upon which even now the fruits of his thieving +weighed.... + +Irritated, he wrenched his thoughts into another channel, and began to +piece together inconsecutive snatches of information gained from Crane +in the confusion of the quarter hour just past, while the Secret Service +operatives were busy rounding up the inmates of that spy-fold and searching +for evidences of their impudent activities. + +It appeared that Washington had at length, however tardily, roused out of +its inertia and at midnight had telegraphed instructions to arrest out +of hand every enemy alien in the land against whom there was evidence of +conspiracy or even a ponderable suspicion. + +So unexpected was this order that Crane had volunteered to show Cecelia +Brooke that midnight rendezvous of the Prussian spy system without the +least notion that he might be required before morning to lead a raiding +force against the establishment; and even when a messenger stopped him as +he turned to enter Au Printemps, he was not advised concerning the cause of +this demand for his immediate presence at headquarters. + +The first cast of what Crane aptly termed the dragnet had brought in the +management and service staff to a man, with a number of the restaurant's +habitues, including Sophie Weringrode and her errand-boy, the exquisite Mr. +Revel. + +Velasco, however, had somehow mysteriously managed to slip through the +meshes and had straightway hastened to spread the alarm. + +As for O'Reilly and Dressier, they had left with Ekstrom in pursuit of +Lanyard less than five minutes before, and so had escaped not only arrest +but all knowledge of the raid prior to their return to Seventy-ninth +Street. + +The second cast of the net had been made at the latter place as soon as +the watchers were able to assure Crane that Ekstrom and O'Reilly had +returned--Dressier having anticipated them there by something like half an +hour. + +By daybreak, then, these gentry would be interned on Ellis Island.... + +And break of day impended visibly in grayish shades that stole westward +through the cross-town streets like clouds of secret agents spying out the +city against invasion by the serried lances of the sun. + +A garish twilight washed Forty-second Street from wall to wall by the time +the car swung round in front of the Knickerbocker. As yet, however, there +was little evidence that the town was growing restive in its sleep with +premonition of the ardour of another day. + +Lanyard stepped down and offered the girl a hand in whose palm her slender +fingers rested lightly for an instant ere she passed on, while he turned to +bid the driver wait. Following, he overtook her in the entrance, where by +tacit consent both paused and lingered in an odd constraint. There was so +much to be said that was impossible to say just then. + +Visibly the woman drooped, betraying physical exhaustion in every line of +her pose, seeming scarcely strong enough to lift the silken lashes that +trembled upon cheeks a little drawn and pale, with the faintest of bluish +rings beneath the eyes. + +"I must not keep you," Lanyard broke the silence. "I merely wished to say +good-night and ... I am sorry." + +"Sorry?" she echoed. + +"That you had such an unhappy experience," he explained--"thanks to your +thoughtfulness for me. I do not deserve so much consideration; and that +only makes me feel all the more regretful." + +"It was silly of me," she admitted with a shadowy, rueful smile. "I'm +afraid my silliness makes too much trouble...." + +He commented honestly: "I don't understand." + +"If I had only been patient enough to wait for you to call me...." + +"Forgive that oversight. I was pressed for time, as you may imagine." + +"Oh, it all comes back to my own stupidity. I might have known you had come +through all right." + +"How should you?" + +"Why not?--when you turn up here in New York safe and sound after being +drowned on the _Assyrian_!--as if that were not proof enough that you bear +a charmed life!" + +"Charmed!" he laughed. + +"And you haven't yet told me how you survived that adventure." + +"You are kind to be interested, and I am unfortunate in never seeing you +save under circumstances unfavourable for yarn-spinning." + +"You might be more fortunate." + +"Only tell me how!" + +"If you cared to ask me to dine with you to-morrow--I mean, to-night--" + +"You would--?" + +He was distressed by consciousness that his voice had thrilled impetuously. +But perhaps she had not noticed; there was no change in the even +friendliness of her tone. + +"I'm as inquisitive as any woman that ever lived. Even if I wished to, I'm +afraid I shouldn't be able to resist an invitation to hear your Odyssey." + +"Delmonico's at eight?" + +"Thank you," she said primly. + +"You make me too happy. May I call for you?" + +"Please." She offered a hand whose touch he found cool, steady, and +impersonal. "Good morning, Mr. Ember." + +He stood in a stare while she went quickly through the lobby to a waiting +elevator, then roused and went back to his cab. + +It was by daylight that he reentered his rooms and found them tenanted by +a negro boy bound and gagged, bruised and sore, and scared beyond +intelligible expression. + +Freeing him and salving his injuries bodily and spiritual with a liberal +douceur, Lanyard exacted an oath of silence, then turned him out. + +He had approximately five hours to put in somehow before his appointment +with Colonel Stanistreet at nine, and was too well versed in the lore of +late hours to think of giving any part of that time to sleep. By so doing +he would only insure a mutinous awakening, with mind and body sluggish and +unrested. If, on the other hand, he remained awake, he would go to that +interview in a state of supernormal animation exceedingly to be desired if +he were to round out this adventure without discredit. + +For its end was not yet. He had still a part to play whose lines were not +yet written, whose business remained to be invented. He neither dared +shirk that appointment, for reasons of policy, nor wished to, while there +remained reparation to be accomplished, a wrong to be righted, justice to +be done, a question to be answered. + +Only when these matters had been put in order would he feel his honour +discharged of its burdens, himself free once more to drop out and go in +peace his lonely ways in life, ways henceforth to be both lonely and +aimless. + +For, when he strove to peer into the future, only an emptiness confronted +him. With Ekstrom accounted for finally and forevermore, there was nothing +to come but the final accounting of the Lone Wolf with that civilization +which had bred and suffered him. + +One way presented itself to make that reckoning even. The Foreign Legion of +France asks no embarrassing questions of its recruits, and enlistment in +its ranks offers with anonymity a consoling certainty. + +Thus alone might he find his way home to the heart of that enigma whence he +had emerged, a nameless waif astray in grim Parisian by-ways.... + +This vision of his end contenting him, he began to scheme a campaign +for the day that was simple enough in prospect: a little chicanery with +Stanistreet, a personal appeal to Crane to restore the passports of +Monsieur André Duchemin which must have been found on Ekstrom's body, a +berth on some steamer sailing for Europe, then the last evanishment. + +One detail alone troubled him, his promise to the Brooke girl that she +should dine with him that night. + +Reminded of this obligation, figuratively he seized Michael Lanyard by the +scruff of his neck and shook him with a savage hand. What insensate folly +was ever his, what want of wit and strength to keep out of temptation's +ways! Why must he have fallen in so readily with her suggestion? Why this +infatuate thirst for sympathy, this eagerness to violate the seals of +reticence at the wish of a strange woman? Was there any reasonable +explanation of the strange lack of his wonted self-sufficiency in the +company of Cecelia Brooke? + +No matter. If he might not contrive somehow to squirm out of that +engagement, he could at all events school himself to decent reticence. He +promised himself to make his account of the submarine adventure drearily +bald and trite, to minimize to the last degree his part therein, above all +things to refrain from painting the Lone Wolf in romantic colours. + +She was much too good a sort, too straight, sincere, fair-minded, +honest--the sort of girl who deserved the Thackeray sort of man, never a +thief. + +If she even dreamed.... + +Lanyard brought forth from its hiding place the necklace, weighed it in +his hand, examined it minutely. Granting its marvellous perfection, he +recognized no more its beauty, dispassionately reviewed in turn each stone +of matchless loveliness, no more susceptible to their seductive purity, +perceiving in them nothing but hard, bright, translucent pebbles, cold, +soulless, cruel. + +One by one they slipped through his fingers like beads of an unholy rosary. + +At length, crushing them together in the hollow of his palm, he stood a +while in thought, then turning to his writing-desk bundled the necklace in +wrappings of white tissue secured with rubber bands, counted carefully the +sheaf of bills he had taken from Ekstrom, sealed the whole amount in a +plain, long envelope, and put this aside in company with the necklace. + +Already two hours had passed and, since he meant to call at the house on +West End Avenue well in advance of the hour when Cecelia Brooke might be +there--presuming Blensop to have given her the same appointment as he had +given "Mr. Ember," that is, nine o'clock--it was now time to prepare. + +Returning to his bedchamber, he laid out a carefully selected change of +clothing, shaved, parboiled himself in a hot bath, chilled him to the +pith in one of icy coldness, and dressed with scrupulous heed to detail, +studiously effacing every sign of his sleepless night. + +That experience was in no way to be surmised from his appearance when he +sallied forth to breakfast at the Plaza. + +At eight precisely, presenting himself at the Stanistreet residence, he +desired the footman to announce him as the author of a certain telegram +from Edgartown. + +He was obliged to wait less than a minute, the footman returning in haste +to request him to step into the library. + +This apartment--which he found much as he had last seen it, eight hours +ago, its window shattered, the portičres down, the furniture in some +disorder--was, on his introduction, occupied by two persons, one an +elderly, iron-gray gentleman of untidy dress and unobtrusive habit in spite +of a discerning cool, gray eye, the other Mr. Blensop in the neatest of +one-button morning-coat effects, with striped trouserings neither too smart +nor too sober for that state of life unto which it had pleased God to call +him, and fair white spats. + +If his attire was radiant, so was the temper of the secretary sunny. He +tripped forward in sprightliest fashion, offering cordial hands to the +caller till he recognized him, and even then was discountenanced only for +the briefest moment. + +"My dear Mr. Ember!" he purred soothingly--"why didn't you tell me last +night it was you who had sent that telegram? If I had for a moment +suspected the truth you should have had your appointment with Colonel +Stanistreet at any hour you might have cared to name, no matter how +ungodly!" + +Lanyard bowed gravely. "Thank you," he said. "And Colonel Stanistreet--?" + +"Is just finishing breakfast. He will be down directly. Please be seated, +make yourself entirely at ease. And will you excuse me--?" + +"With pleasure," Lanyard assured him, his gravity unbroken. + +A doubt clouded Mr. Blensop's bright eyes, but its transit was +instantaneous. He turned forthwith to join the iron-gray man before the +portrait which concealed the safe. + +"And now, Mr. Stone," said Mr. Blensop, with indulgence. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Stone quietly, "if you'll be good enough to show me +how this contraption works, maybe I'll find out something interesting, +maybe not." + +Mr. Blensop proceeded to oblige by operating the lever and sliding aside +the portrait. + +"Thanks," said Mr. Stone, producing a magnifying glass from a waistcoat +pocket and beginning to peer myopically at the face of the safe. "I take +it nobody's been pawing over this since the late, as you might say, +unpleasantness?" + +"Not a soul has touched it. By Colonel Stanistreet's order it was covered +as soon as we found it had been tampered with." + +"_Um-m_," Mr. Stone acknowledged, bending close to his work. + +Partially, perhaps, by way of administering an urbane rebuke to Lanyard for +his readiness to dispense with his society, Mr. Blensop remained in +the neighbourhood of Mr. Stone, hovering round him like a domesticated +humming-bird. + +"Do you find anything?" he enquired, when Stone straightened up. + +"Fingerprints a-plenty," Mr. Stone admitted with a hint of temper--"a slew +of the damn things. Looks like you must've called in the neighbours to help +make a good show. However, we'll see what we can make of 'em." + +He conjured from some recess in his clothing a squat bottle, from another a +stopper in which was fitted a blowpipe, joined the two together, approached +the safe with one end of the pipe between his lips and sprayed it with a +thin film of white powder, the contents of the bottle. + +"I say, do tell me what that's for?" + +"That," said Mr. Stone patiently, "is to make the fingerprints stand out, +so we can get a good likeness of 'em." + +He put the bottle aside, blinked at the safe approvingly, and by further +exercise of powers of legerdemain materialized a pocket kodak and a +flashlight pistol. + +"Can't I help you?" Blensop offered eagerly. "I used to be rather a dab at +amateur photography, you know." + +"Well, I'm kind of stuck on pressing the button myself," Stone confessed, +adjusting the focus. "But if you want to work that flashlight, I don't +mind." + +"Delighted," Mr. Blensop asserted. "How does it go, now?" + +"Like this." Stone set his camera down to demonstrate. "Now just stand +behind me," he concluded, "and pull the trigger when I say 'now'." + +"I'll do my best, but--I say--will it bang?" + +Stone had taken up the camera once more. His sole answer was a grunt upon +which his hearers placed two distinct interpretations--Lanyard's affording +him considerable gratification. + +"If you're ready," said Stone--"_now_" + +Mr. Blensop squinted unbecomingly and pressed the trigger. A vivid flare +lifted from the pan of the pistol, and winked out in a cloud of vapour, +slowly dissipating. + +"Is that all?" + +"Yes, sir--that's all of that." Stone stowed the camera away about his +person and from another cranny produced a small cardboard box of glass +slides, one of which he offered. "Now if you'll just run your fingers +through your hair and rest them on this slide, light but steady...." + +"What for?" Blensop demanded with a giggle of nervous reluctance. "You +don't think I'm the thief, do you?" + +"No, sir, I don't. But if I haven't got your fingerprints, how am I going +to tell them from the thief's?" + +"Oh, I see," Blensop said with a note of allayed apprehension, and put +himself on record. + +The door opening to admit Colonel Stanistreet, Lanyard rose. At sight of +him the Englishman checked and stared enquiringly, his eyes shadowed by +careworn brows; for it was apparent that, if the events of the night had +not depressed the spirits of the secretary, his employer had known little +sleep or none since the burglary. + +"Colonel Stanistreet," Blensop said melodiously, abandoning Stone to his +unsupervised devices, "this is Mr. Ember, the gentleman who called last +night before you got home. It appears he is the person who sent us that +telegram from Edgartown day before yesterday." + +"Indeed? Ember is not the name with which the message was signed." + +"The message was purposely left unsigned," Lanyard explained. + +Stanistreet nodded approval. "I am glad to meet you, Mr. Ember," he said, +offering a hand. "Be seated. I am most anxious first to express our +gratitude, next to learn how you came by your information." + +"You will find it an interesting story." + +"No doubt of that." Stanistreet took the desk chair, opened a cigar +humidor, and offered it. "I shall be even more interested, however," he +said with an evanescent trace of humour, "to know who the devil you are, +sir." + +"That is something I am prepared to prove to your satisfaction." + +"If you will be so good.... But excuse me for one moment." Stanistreet +turned in his chair. "Mr. Stone?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Have you finished with the safe? If so, I want my secretary to check over +its contents carefully and make sure nothing else is missing." + +"I'm all through with it, Colonel Stanistreet. Now, if you don't mind, +I'm going to mouse around and see if I can nose out anything else that's +useful." + +"That shall be entirely as you will. Now, Blensop"--Stanistreet nodded to +the secretary--"let us make certain...." + +"Yes, sir." + +Blithely Mr. Blensop addressed himself to the safe. + +"There has been an accident of some sort, Colonel Stanistreet?" Lanyard +enquired civilly, nodding toward the shattered French window. + +"A burglary, sir." + +"The criminal escaped--?" + +Stanistreet nodded. "Our watchman surprised him, and was shot for his +pains--not seriously, I'm happy to say. The burglar got himself tangled +up in that window, but extricated in time, and went over the garden wall +before we could determine which way he had taken." + +"I trust you lost nothing of value?" + +Stanistreet shrugged. "Unhappily, we did--a diamond necklace, the property +of my sister-in-law, and--ah--a document we could ill afford to part +with.... But you offered to show me credentials, I believe." + +"Such as they are," Lanyard replied. "My passports and letters were stolen +from me. But these, I think, should serve as well to prove my bona fides." + +He laid out in order upon the desk his plunder from the safe aboard the +U-boat--all but the money--the three cipher codes, the log, the diary +of the commander, the directory of German secret agents, and such other +documents as he had selected. + +The first Colonel Stanistreet took up with a dubious frown which swiftly +lightened, yielding, as he pursued his examination into the papers and +began to recognize their surpassing value to the Allied cause, to a subdued +glimmer of gratulatory excitement. + +But he was at pains to satisfy himself as to the authenticity of each paper +in turn, providing a lull for which Lanyard was not ungrateful since it +gave him a chance to adjust his understanding to an unexpected development +in the affair. + +He lounged at ease, smoking, his eyes, half-veiled by lowered lids, keenly +reviewing the room and its tenants. + +Stone, the detective (an operative, Lanyard rightly inferred, of the +American Secret Service, loaned to the British in order to keep the +burglary out of police records and newspapers), had wandered out into the +garden that glowed with young April sunlight beyond the windows. From +time to time he was to be seen stooping and inspecting the earth with the +gravity of an earnest, efficient, sober-sided sleuth of the old school. + +Blensop was busy before the safe, extracting the contents of each +pigeonhole in turn, thumbing its dockets of papers, checking each off upon +a typewritten list several pages in length. + +To that lithe and debonair figure Lanyard's gaze oftenest reverted. + +So not only had the necklace been stolen but "a document" which the British +Secret Service "could ill afford to part with"! + +Lanyard entertained no least doubt as to the identity of the document in +question. There could be but one, he felt, which Stanistreet would so +characterize. + +That document had not been in the safe when Lanyard had opened it at +midnight. + +After a moment Mr. Blensop uttered a musical note of vexation. The lead of +his pencil had broken. He threw it pettishly aside, came over to the desk, +took up a penholder, dipped it in the ink-well, and returned to his task. + + + + +XXII + +CHICANE + + +Colonel Stanistreet put down the last of the papers and slapped his hand +upon it resoundingly. + +"This is one of the most remarkable collections of data, I venture to +assert, that has ever come into the hands of the British Government. Have +you any idea of its value?" + +Lanyard lifted a whimsical eyebrow. "Some," he admitted drily. + +"And what do you ask for it, sir?" + +"Nothing." + +The gaze of the Englishman bored into his eyes; but he met their challenge +with an unshaken countenance, smiling. + +"My dear sir," Stanistreet demanded--"who are you?" + +"The name under which I sailed for New York on board the _Assyrian_," +Lanyard announced quietly, "was André Duchemin." + +Disturbed by a startled exclamation, together with a sound of shuffling and +a slight thump, he looked round in mild curiosity to see Blensop staggered +and astare, standing over a litter of documents which had slipped from his +grasp to the floor. Mastering his emotion quickly enough, the secretary +knelt with a mumbled apology and began to pick up the papers. + +With no more notice of the incident Lanyard returned undivided attention to +Colonel Stanistreet. + +"I had another name," he confessed, "and a reputation none too savoury, +as, I daresay, you know. Through the courtesy of the British Intelligence +Office I was permitted to disguise these; but on the _Assyrian_ I was +recognized--in short, ran afoul of German Secret Service agents who knew +me, but whom I did not know. On the sixth night out circumstances conspired +to make me seem a serious obstacle to their schemes. Consequently I was +waylaid, robbed, and thrown overboard. Within the next few minutes a +torpedo struck the ship and the submarine which fired it came up under me +as I struggled to keep afloat. By passing myself off as a Boche spy, I +succeeded in inducing the commander to take me below, and so reached the +Martha's Vineyard base. There chance played into my hands: I contrived to +sink the U-boat and escape, as reported in my telegram." + +During a brief silence he found opportunity to observe that Mr. Blensop was +working with hands that trembled singularly. + +"Incredible!" Stanistreet commented. + +"Yet here is proof," Lanyard asserted, indicating the papers beneath +Stanistreet's hand. + +"My dear sir, I didn't mean--" + +"Pardon!" Lanyard smiled, with a lifted hand. "I never thought you did, +Colonel Stanistreet. But it is your duty to make sure you are not imposed +upon by plausible adventurers. Therefore--since my papers have been +stolen--I am glad to be able to prove my identity with André Duchemin by +referring to survivors of the _Assyrian_ disaster, among others Mr. Sherry, +the second officer, Mr. Crane of the United States Secret Service, and a +countrywoman of yours, a Miss Cecelia Brooke, whose acquaintance I was +fortunate enough to make." + +Stanistreet nodded heavily, and consulted his watch. "Miss Brooke," he +said, "should be here shortly. Blensop made an appointment with her last +night, which I confirmed by telephone this morning." + +"Then, with permission, I shall remain and ask her to vouch for me," +Lanyard suggested in resignation, since it appeared he was not to be +permitted to escape this girl, that destiny was not yet finished with their +entanglement. + +"I shall be glad if you will, sir.... Monsieur Duchemin," Stanistreet +began, but hesitated--"or do you prefer another style?" + +"I am content with Duchemin." + +"That is a matter for your own discretion, but I should warn you it may +already have acquired an evil odour on this side. To my knowledge it has +been used within the last twenty-four hours, and the pretensions of its +wearer supported by your stolen credentials." + +"I am not surprised," Lanyard stated reflectively. "A chap with a beard, +perhaps?" + +"Why, yes...." + +"Anderson," the adventurer nodded: "that, at least, was his alias when he +jockeyed himself into the second steward's berth aboard the _Assyrian_." + +He glanced idly across the room, discovered Blensop once more at pause in a +stare, and grinned amiably. + +"He came here last night," Stanistreet volunteered deliberately-- +"representing himself as André Duchemin--to sell me a certain paper, the +same which subsequently, I am convinced, he returned to steal." + +"And did," Lanyard added. + +"And did," the Briton conceded. "Now you have told me who he is, I promise +you every effort shall be made to apprehend him and prevent further misuse +of the name you have assumed." + +"It has," Lanyard said tersely. + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"I say every effort has been made--and successfully--to accomplish the ends +you mention." + +"What's that you say?" Blensop demanded shrilly, crossing to the desk. + +"My secretary," Stanistreet explained, "was present at the interview, and +is naturally interested." + +"And very good of him, I'm sure," Lanyard agreed. "I was about to explain, +Mr. Blensop, that Ekstrom, alias Anderson, was killed in the course of +a raid on the Prussian spy headquarters in Seventy-ninth Street this +morning." + +"Amazing!" Blensop gasped. "I am glad to hear it," he added, and went +slowly back to his task. + +"I may as well tell you, sir," Lanyard pursued, "I have every reason to +believe the document sold you last night was one of those stolen from me." + +Stanistreet wagged a contentious head. + +"I cannot conceive how it could have come into your possession, sir." + +"Simply enough. Miss Brooke requested me to take care of it for her." + +The eyes of the Englishman grew stony. "Miss Brooke!" he repeated testily. +"I don't understand." + +"It was a document--I do not seek to know its nature from you, sir--of +vital importance in this present crisis, with the United States newly +entered into the war." + +Stanistreet affirmed with an inclination of his head. + +"I may tell you this much, Monsieur Duchemin: if it had not reached this +country safely.... What am I saying? If it be not recovered without delay, +the chances of America's early and efficient participation in the war will +suffer a tremendous setback ... Blensop, be good enough to call up the +American Secret Service at once and ask whether the document in question +was found on the body of this--ah--Ekstrom." + +"Pardon," Lanyard interposed as Blensop hesitantly approached the +telephone. "It would be a waste of time. I happen to know, because I was +there, that no such document was found on Ekstrom's body." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet grumbled. "What can have become of it? This +business grows only the blacker the deeper one seeks to fathom it. I +must own myself completely at a loss. How it came into the hands of Miss +Brooke--" + +"I can explain that, I think. The document was in the care of two +gentlemen, Mr. Bartholomew and Lieutenant Thackeray. The former was +murdered by the Huns in search of it, Lieutenant Thackeray murderously +assaulted. But for Miss Brooke's intervention the assassins must have +succeeded. As it was, the young woman herself found it and, one presumes, +took charge of it because her fiancé was incapacitated, and possibly with +the notion that she might thereby prevent further mischief of the same +nature." + +"Her fiancé?" Stanistreet echoed blankly. + +"Lieutenant Thackeray--" + +"Her brother, sir!" the Briton laughed. "Thackeray was his nom de service." + +It was Lanyard's turn to stare. "Ah!" he murmured. "A light begins to +dawn...." + +"Upon me as well," Stanistreet confessed. "Miss Brooke and her brother are +orphans and, before the war, were inseparable companions. I do not doubt +that, learning he had been commissioned with an uncommonly perilous errand, +she booked passage by the _Assyrian_ without his consent, in order to be +near him in event of danger." + +"This explains much," Lanyard conceded--"much that perplexed more than one +can say." + +"But in no way advances us on the trail of the purloined document." + +"I am afraid, sir," Lanyard lied deliberately, "you may as well abandon all +hope of ever seeing it again. Ekstrom made away with it: no question about +that. There was time enough and to spare between his exploit here and his +death for him to deliver it to safe hands. It is doubtless decoded by this +time, a copy of it already well on the way to the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"I am afraid," Stanistreet echoed--"I am very much afraid you are right." + +His thick, spatulate fingers of an executive drummed heavily upon the desk. + +Stone's figure darkened the windows. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" he called diffidently. + +"Yes, Mr. Stone?" + +"There's something here I'd like to consult you about, sir, if you can +spare a minute." + +"Certainly." The Englishman rose. "If you will excuse me, Monsieur +Duchemin...." Half way to the windows he hesitated. "By the bye, Blensop, I +wish you'd call up Apthorp and ask after Howson's condition." + +"Very good, sir," Blensop intoned cheerfully. + +"And do it without delay, please. I don't like to think of the poor fellow +suffering." + +"Immediately, sir." + +As his employer passed out into the garden with Stone, the secretary +discontinued his checking and came over to the desk, drawing up a chair and +sitting down to telephone. At the same time Lanyard got up and began to +pace thoughtfully to and fro. + +"Howson is the wounded night watchman, I take it, Mr. Blensop?" + +"Yes--an excellent fellow.... Schuyler nine, three hundred," Blensop cooed +into the transmitter. + +Conceivably that ostensible discomfiture whose symptoms Lanyard had +remarked had been a transitory humour. Mr. Blensop was now in what seemed +the most equable and blithe of tempers. His very posture at the telephone +eloquently betokened as much: he had thrown himself into the chair with +picturesque nonchalance, sitting with body half turned from the desk, his +right hand holding the receiver to his ear, his left thrust carelessly +into his trouser pocket, thus dragging back the lapel of that impeccable +morning-coat and exposing the bright cap of his gold-mounted fountain pen. + +Something in that implement seemed to possess for Lanyard overpowering +fascination. His gaze yearned for it, returned again and again to it. + +He changed his course to stroll up and down behind Blensop, between him and +the safe. + +"I understood Colonel Stanistreet to say the watchman was not seriously +injured, I believe," he observed, with interest. + +"Shot through the shoulder, that is all.... Schuyler nine, three hundred? +Dr. Apthorp, please. This is Mr. Blensop speaking, secretary to Colonel +Stanistreet.... Are you there, Dr. Apthorp?" + +With professional dexterity Lanyard en passant dropped a hand over the +young man's shoulder and lightly lifted the pen from its place in the +pocket of Blensop's waistcoat; the even tempo of his step unbroken, he +tossed it toward the safe, where it fell without sound upon a heavy Persian +rug. + +"Yes--about Howson," the musical accents continued, "Colonel Stanistreet is +most solicitous...." + +Swiftly Lanyard moved toward the safe, glanced through the French windows +to assure himself that Stanistreet and Stone were safely preoccupied, +whipped out the envelope he had prepared, and thrust it into a file of +papers which did not crowd its pigeonhole; accomplishing the complete +manoeuvre with such adroitness that, like the business of the pen, it +passed utterly without the knowledge of the secretary. + +"Thank you so much. _Good_ morning, Dr. Apthorp." + +Lanyard was passing the desk when Blensop rose, and the footman was +entering with his salver. + +"A lady to see Colonel Stanistreet, sir--by appointment, she says." + +Blensop glanced at the card. At the same time Stanistreet came in from the +garden, leaving Stone to potter about visibly in the distance. + +"Miss Brooke is here, sir," the secretary announced. + +"Ask her to come in, please." + +The footman retired. + +"Howson is resting easily, Dr. Apthorp reports," Blensop added, going back +to the safe. "Has Stone turned up anything of interest, sir?" + +"Footprints," Stanistreet replied with a snort of moderate impatience. +"He's quite upset since I've informed him the man who made them is--" + +"_Good God_!" + +The interruption was Blensop's in a voice strangely out of tune. +Stanistreet wheeled sharply upon him. + +"What the deuce--!" he snapped. + +By every indication the secretary had suffered the most severe shock of his +experience. His face was ghastly, his eyes vacant; his knees shook beneath +him; one hand pressed convulsively the bosom of his waistcoat. His +endeavours to reply evoked only a husky, rattling sound. + +"What the devil has come over you?" Stanistreet insisted. + +The rattle became articulate: "I've lost it! It's gone!" + +"What have you lost?" + +"N-nothing, sir. That is--I mean to say--my fountain pen." + +"The way you take it, I should say you'd lost your head," Stanistreet +commented. "You must have dropped the thing somewhere. Look about, see if +you can't find it." + +Thus admonished, the secretary began to search the floor with frantic +glances, and as the footman ushered in Cecelia Brooke, Lanyard saw the +young man dart forward and retrieve the pen with a start of relief wellnigh +as unmanning as the shock of loss had seemed. + +With that Lanyard's interest in the fellow waned; he was too poor a thing +to consider seriously; while here was one who compelled anew, as ever when +they met, the homage of sincere and marvelling admiration. + +Yet another of those miracles of feminine adaptability and makeshift had +brought the girl to this meeting in the guise of one who had never known a +broken night or an hour's care, with a look of such fresh tranquility that +it seemed hardly possible she could be one and the same with that wilted +little woman whom Lanyard had left in the gray dawn at the entrance to the +Hotel Knickerbocker. A tailored suit, necessarily borrowed plumage, became +her so completely that it was difficult to believe it not her own. Her eyes +were calm and sweet with candour; her colour was a clear and artless glow; +the hand she offered the Briton was tremorless. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" + +"I am he, Miss Brooke. It is kind of you to call so early to relieve my +mind about your brother. I have known Lionel so long...." + +"He is resting easily," said the girl. "His complete recovery is merely a +matter of time and nursing." + +"That is good news," said Stanistreet. "Monsieur Duchemin I believe you +know." + +"I have been fortunate in that at least." + +Gravely Lanyard saluted the hand extended to him in turn. "Mademoiselle is +most gracious," he said humbly. + +"Then--I understand--Monsieur Duchemin must have told you--?" The girl +addressed Stanistreet. + +"Permit me to leave you--" Lanyard interposed. + +"No," she begged--"please not! I've nothing to say that you may not hear. +You have been too much involved--" + +"If mademoiselle insists," Lanyard demurred. "I feel it is not right I +should stay. And yet--if you will indulge me--I should like very much to +demonstrate the truth of an old saw...." + +Two confused looks were his response. + +"I fear I, for one, do not follow," Stanistreet admitted. + +"I will explain quite briefly," Lanyard promised. "The adage I have in mind +is as old as human wit: Set a thief to catch a thief. And the last time it +was quoted in my hearing, it was not to my advantage. I recall, indeed, +resenting it enormously." + +He paused with purpose, looking down at the desk. A pad of blank paper +caught his eye. He took it up and examined it with an abstracted manner. + +"Well, monsieur: the application of your adage?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, what would you think if I were to tell you the +combination of your safe?" + +"I should be inclined to suspect that you were the devil," Stanistreet +chuckled. + +"By all accounts a gentleman of intelligence: one is flattered.... Very +well: I proceed to demonstrate black art with the aid of this white +paper pad. The combination, monsieur, is as follows: nine, twenty-seven, +eighteen, thirty-six." + +A low cry of bewilderment greeted this announcement. Blensop had drawn near +and was eyeing Lanyard as if under the influence of hypnotism. + +"How--how do you know that?" he asked in a broken voice. + +"Clairvoyance, Mr. Blensop. I seem to see, as I hold this pad, somebody +writing upon it the combination for the information of another who had no +right to have it--somebody using a pencil with a hard lead, Mr. Blensop; +which was very foolish of him, since it made a distinct impression on the +under sheet. So you see my magic is rather colourless, after all.... Now, +a wiser man, Mr. Blensop, would have used a pen, a fountain pen by +preference, with a soft gold nib, well broken. That would leave no +impression. If you will lend me the beautiful pen I observe in your pocket, +I will give a further demonstration." + +The eyes of the secretary shifted wildly. He hesitated, moistening dry lips +with the tip of a nervous tongue. + +"And don't try to get out of it, Mr. Blensop, because I am armed and don't +mean to let you escape. Besides, that good Mr. Stone patrols the garden." +Lanyard's tone changed to one of command. "That pen, monsieur!" + +Blensop's hand faltered to his waistcoat pocket, hesitated, withdrew, and +feebly extended the pen. + +"I think you _are_ the devil," he stammered in an under-tone--"the devil +himself!" + +Deftly unscrewing the pen-point, Lanyard inverted the barrel above the +desk. + +The cylinder of paper dropped out. + +"And now, Colonel Stanistreet, if you will call Mr. Stone and have this +traitor removed...." + + + + +XXIII + +AMNESTY + + +When Stanistreet had gone out in company with Stone, and the broken, +weeping Blensop, ending a scene indescribably painful, a lull almost as +uncomfortable to Lanyard ensued. + +Then--"How did you guess?" Cecelia Brooke asked in wonder. + +Discountenanced by the admiration glowing in her eyes, Lanyard stood +fumbling with the disjointed members of Blensop's pen. + +"Do not give me too much credit," he depreciated: "anybody acquainted with +that roll of paper could have guessed that an empty fountain pen would +furnish an ideal place of concealment for it. Moreover, just before you +came in, that traitor missed his pen, and his consternation betrayed him +beyond more doubt to one whose distrust was already astir. As for the +other, it was true: Blensop did write down the combination on this pad, +using a pencil with a hard lead; the marks are very plain." + +"But for whose use?" + +"Ekstrom--Anderson--was here last night, and saw Blensop alone. Colonel +Stanistreet was not at home. Knowing what we know now, that Blensop was +a creature of the German system here, bought body, soul, and conscience +through its studied pandering to his vices, we know he could not well have +refused to surrender the combination on demand." + +"Still I fail to understand...." + +"Ekstrom, being Ekstrom, could not resist the opportunity to play double. +Here was a property he could sell to England at a stiff price. Why not +despoil the enemy, put the money in pocket, then return, steal the paper +anew for the use of Germany, and collect the stipulated reward from that +source? But he reckoned without Blensop's avarice, there; he showed Blensop +too plainly the way to profit through betraying both parties to a bargain; +Blensop saw no reason why he should not play the game that Ekstrom played. +So he stole it for himself, to sell to Germany, but being a poor, witless +fool, lacking Ekstrom's dash and audacity, was foredoomed to failure and +exposure." + +The girl continued to eye him steadfastly, and he as steadfastly to evade +her direct gaze. + +"Nothing that you tell me detracts from the wonder of your guessing so +accurately," she insisted. "Now I know what Mr. Crane said of you was true, +that you are one of the most extraordinary of men." + +"He was too kind when he said that," Lanyard protested wretchedly. "It is +not true. If you must know...." + +"Well, Monsieur Lanyard?" + +Her tone was that of a light-hearted girl, arch with provocation. Of a +sudden Lanyard understood that he might no longer stop here alone with her. + +"If you will be a little indulgent with me," he suggested, "I will try to +explain what I mean." + +"And how indulgent, monsieur?" + +"I have a whim to take the air in this garden. Will you accompany me?" + +"Why not?" + +As she led the way through the French windows, he noted with deeper +misgivings how her action matched the temper of her voice, how she seemed +to-day more deliciously alive and happier than any common mortal. + +So light her heart! And all since she had found him here! + +At his wits' ends, he conceded now what he had so long denied. With all her +wit and wisdom, with all her charm of beauty, winsomeness, and breeding, +with all her ingrained love of truth and honesty, she was no more than +Nature had meant her to be, a woman with woman's weakness for the man +she must admire. She liked him, divined in him latent qualities somehow +excellent. Something in him worked upon her imagination, something, no +doubt, in the overcoloured, romantic yarns current about the Lone Wolf, +and so had touched her heart. She liked him too well already, and she was +willing to like him better. + +But that must never be. He must rend ruthlessly apart this illusion of +romance with which she chose to transfigure the prowling parasite of night, +the sneaking thief.... + +The garden was sweet with the bright promise of Spring. A few weeks more, +and its formal walks would wend a riot of flowers. Now its sunlight made +amends for what it lacked in beauty of growing things; and its air was warm +and fragrant and still in the shelter of the red-brick walls. + +Midway down that walk, by the side of which a thief had skulked nine hours +ago, near that door whose lock had yielded to his cunning keys, the girl +paused and confronted Lanyard spiritedly as he came up with heavy step and +hang-dog head. + +"Well, monsieur?" she demanded. "Do you mean to tantalize me longer with +your reticence?" + +But something in the haggard eyes he showed her made the girl catch her +breath. + +"What is it?" she cried anxiously. "Monsieur Duchemin, what is your +trouble?" + +"Only this truth that I must tell you," he said bitterly: "I merely played +a part back there, just now. There was neither wit nor guess-work in that +business; once I had seen Blensop's panic over the fancied loss of his pen, +the rest was knowledge. I saw him and Ekstrom together last night--skulking +in those windows, I watched them; and though in my denseness I didn't +understand, I saw him write upon that pad, tear off and give the sheet to +Ekstrom. And I knew Ekstrom had not succeeded in stealing back what he had +sold to Colonel Stanistreet, knew he was guiltless in fact if not in deed." + +"But--how could you know that?" + +"Because I was there, in the room, when he entered it after it had been +shut up for the night." + +Conscious of her hands that fluttered like wounded things to her bosom, he +looked away in misery. + +"What were you doing there?" she whispered in the end. + +"Trying to find that paper, which I had seen Ekstrom sell to Colonel +Stanistreet, so that I might make good my promise and relieve your distress +by returning it to you. I had opened the safe before he entered, and +searched it thoroughly, and knew the paper was not there--though at that +time it never entered my thick head to suspect Blensop of treachery. It +was neither Blensop nor Ekstrom, Miss Brooke ... it was I who stole that +necklace." + +She made no sound and did not stir; and though he dared not look he knew +her stricken gaze was steadfast to his face. + +"I will say this much in my defence: I did not come with intent to steal, +but only to take back what had been stolen from me, and return it to you, +who had trusted it to my care. I wanted to do that, because I did not then +understand the ins and outs of this intrigue, and had no means of knowing +how deeply your honour might be involved." + +"But you did _not_ take that necklace!" + +"I am sorry.... I saw it, and could not resist it." + +"But Mr. Crane assured me you had given up all that sort of thing years +ago!" + +"Notwithstanding that, it seems I may not be trusted...." + +After another trying silence she declared vehemently: "I do not believe +you! You say this thing for some secret purpose of your own. For some +reason I can't understand you wish to abase yourself in my sight, to make +me think you capable of such infamy. Why--ah, monsieur!--why must you do +this?" + +"Because it isn't fair to represent myself as what I am not, mademoiselle. +Once a thief, always--" + +"No! It isn't true!" + +"Again I am sorry, but I know. You have been most generous to believe in +me. If anything could save me from myself, it would be your confidence. +That, I presume, is why I felt called upon to undo my thieving, and make +good the loss. The money Colonel Stanistreet paid Ekstrom is now in the +safe, back there in the library. The necklace is ... here." + +Blindly he thrust the tissue packet into her hands. + +"If you will consent to return it to its owner, when I have gone, I shall +be most grateful." + +Her hands shook so that, when she would open the packet, it escaped her +grasp and dropped into a little pool of rain-water which had collected in +a hollow of the walk. Lanyard picked it up, stripped off the soiled and +sodden paper, dried the necklace with his handkerchief, replaced it in her +hand. + +He heard the deep intake of her breath as she recognized its beauty, then +her quavering voice: "You give this back because of me...!" + +"Because I cannot be an ingrate. I know no other way to prove how I have +prized your faith in me.... And now, with your leave, I will go away +quietly by this garden gate--" + +"No--please, no!" + +"But--" + +"I have more to say to you. It isn't fair of you to go like this, when I--" + +She interrupted herself, and when next she spoke he was dashed by a change +in her voice from a tone of passionate expostulation to one of amused +animation. + +"Colonel Stanistreet!" she called clearly. "Do come here at once, please!" + +Startled, Lanyard saw that Stanistreet had appeared in the French windows +in company with Crane. In response to Cecelia's hail both came out into the +garden, Stanistreet briskly leading, Crane lounging at his heels, champing +his cigar, his weathered features knitted against the brightness of the +sun. + +"Good morning, Miss Brooke. Howdy, Lanyard--or are you Duchemin again?" he +said; but his salutations were lost in the wonder excited by the girl's +next move. + +"See, Colonel Stanistreet, what we have found!" she cried, and showed him +the necklace. "I mean, what Monsieur Duchemin found. It was he who saw it, +lying beneath that rose-bush over there. Your burglar must have dropped it +in making his escape; you can see the paper he wrapped it in, all rain-wet +and muddied." + +Stanistreet's eyes protruded alarmingly, and his face grew very red before +he found breath enough to ejaculate: "God bless my soul!" Breathing hard, +he accepted the necklace from Cecelia's hands. "I must--excuse me--I must +tell my sister-in-law about this immediately!" + +He turned and trotted hastily back into the house. + +Crane lingered but a moment longer. His cheek, as ever, was bulging round +his everlasting cigar. Was his tongue therein as well? Lanyard never knew; +the man's eyes remained inscrutable for all the kindly shrewdness that +glimmered amid their netted wrinkles. + +"Excuse _me_!" he said suddenly. "I got to tell the colonel something." + +He got lankily into motion and presently passed in through the windows.... + +Irresistibly her gaze drew Lanyard's. He lifted careworn eyes and realized +her with a great wistfulness upon him. + +She awaited in silence his verdict, her chin proudly high, her face +adorably flushed, her shining eyes level and brave to his, her generous +hands outstretched. + +"Must you go now?" she said tenderly, as he stood hesitant and shamed. +"Must you go now, my dear?" + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The False Faces, by Louis Joseph Vance + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + +***** This file should be named 9908-8.txt or 9908-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/0/9908/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, Tom +Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/9908-8.zip b/9908-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9439f77 --- /dev/null +++ b/9908-8.zip diff --git a/9908.txt b/9908.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f64e4c --- /dev/null +++ b/9908.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10775 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The False Faces, by Louis Joseph Vance + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The False Faces + +Author: Louis Joseph Vance + +Posting Date: November 15, 2011 [EBook #9908] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: October 30, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, Tom +Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +THE FALSE FACES + +FURTHER ADVENTURES FROM THE HISTORY OF THE LONE WOLF + +BY LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE + +1918 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I Out of No Man's Land + +II From a British Port + +III In the Barred Zone + +IV In Deep Waters + +V On the Banks + +VI Under Suspicion + +VII In Stateroom 29 + +VIII Off Nantucket + +IX Sub Sea + +X At Base + +XI Under the Rose + +XII Resurrection + +XIII Reincarnation + +XIV Defamation + +XV Recognition + +XVI Au Printemps + +XVII Finesse + +XVIII Danse Macabre + +XIX Force Majeure + +XX Riposte + +XXI Question + +XXII Chicane + +XXIII Amnesty + + + + +I + +OUT OF NO MAN'S LAND + + +On the muddy verge of a shallow little pool the man lay prone and still, as +still as those poor dead whose broken bodies rested all about him, where +they had fallen, months or days, hours or weeks ago, in those grim contests +which the quick were wont insensately to wage for a few charnel yards of +that debatable ground. + +Alone of all that awful company this man lived and, though he ached with +the misery of hunger and cold and rain-drenched garments, was unharmed. + +Ever since nightfall and a brisk skirmish had made practicable an +undetected escape through the German lines, he had been in the open, +alternately creeping toward the British trenches under cover of darkness +and resting in deathlike immobility, as he now rested, while pistol-lights +and star-shells flamed overhead, flooding the night with ghastly glare +and disclosing in pitiless detail that two-hundred-yard ribbon of earth, +littered with indescribable abominations, which set apart the combatants. +When this happened, the living had no other choice than to ape the dead, +lest the least movement, detected by eyes that peered without rest through +loopholes in the sandbag parapets, invite a bullet's blow. + +Now it was midnight, and lights were flaring less frequently, even as +rifle-fire had grown more intermittent ... as if many waters might quench +out hate in the heart of man! + +For it was raining hard--a dogged, dreary downpour drilling through a heavy +atmosphere whose enervation was like the oppression of some malign and +inexorable incubus; its incessant crepitation resembling the mutter of +a weary, sullen drum, dwarfing to insignificance the stuttering of +machine-guns remote in the northward, dominating even a dull thunder of +cannonading somewhere down the far horizon; lowering a vast and shimmering +curtain of slender lances, steel-bright, close-ranked, between the trenches +and over all that weary land. Thus had it rained since noon, and thus--for +want of any hint of slackening--it might rain for another twelve hours, or +eighteen, or twenty-four.... + +The star-rocket, whose rays had transfixed him beside the pool, paled and +winked out in mid-air, and for several minutes unbroken darkness obtained +while, on hands and knees, the man crept on toward that gap in the British +barbed-wire entanglements which he had marked down ere daylight waned, +shaping a tolerably straight course despite frequent detours to avoid the +unspeakable. Only once was his progress interrupted--when straining senses +apprised him that a British patrol was taking advantage of the false truce +to reconnoitre toward the enemy lines, its approach betrayed by a nearing +_squash_ of furtive feet in the boggy earth, the rasp of constrained +respiration, a muttered curse when someone slipped and narrowly escaped a +fall, the edged hiss of an officer's whisper reprimanding the offender. +Incontinently he who crawled dropped flat to the greasy mud and lay +moveless. + +Almost at the same instant, warned by a trail of sparks rising in a long +arc from the German trenches, the soldiers imitated his action, and, as +long as those triple stars shone in the murk, made themselves one with him +and the heedless dead. Two lay so close beside him that the man could have +touched either by moving a hand a mere six inches; he was at pains to do +nothing of the sort; he was sedulous to clench his teeth against their +chattering, even to hold his breath, and regretted that he might not mute +the thumping of his heart. Nor dared he stir until, the lights fading out, +the patrol rose and skulked onward. + +Thereafter his movements were less stealthy; with a detachment of their +own abroad in No Man's Land, the British would refrain from shooting at +shadows. One had now to fear only German bullets in event the patrol were +discovered. + +Rising, the man slipped and stumbled on in semi-crouching posture, ready +to flatten to earth as soon as any one of his many overshoulder glances +detected another sky-spearing flight of sparks. But this necessity he was +spared; no more lights were discharged before he groped through the wires +to the parapet, with almost uncanny good luck, finding the very spot where +the British had come over the top, indicated by protruding uprights of a +rough wooden scaling ladder. + +As he turned, felt with a foot for the uppermost rung, and began to +descend, he was saluted by a voice hoarse with exposure, from the black +bowels of the trench: + +"Blimy! but ye're back in a 'urry! Wot's up? Forget to put perfume on yer +pocket-'andkerchief--or wot?" + +The man's response, if he made any, was lost in a heavy splash as his feet +slipped on the slimy rungs, delivering him precipitately into a knee-deep +stream of foul water which moved sluggishly through the trench like the +current of a half-choked sewer--a circumstance which neither suprised him +nor added to his physical discomfort, who could be no more wet or defiled +than he had been. + +Floundering to a foothold, he cast about vainly for a clue to the other's +whereabouts; for if the night was thick in the open, here in the trench +its density was as that of the pit; the man could distinguish positively +nothing more than a pallid rift where the walls opened overhead. + +"Well, sullen, w'ere's yer manners? Carn't yer answer a civil question?" + +Turning toward the speaker, the man replied in good if rather carefully +enunciated English: + +"I am not of your comrades. I am come from the enemy trenches." + +"The 'ell yer are! 'Ands up!" + +The muzzle of a rifle prodded the man's stomach. Obediently he lifted both +hands above his head. A thought later, he was half blinded by the sudden +spot-light of an electric flash-lamp. + +"Deserter, eh? You kamerad--wot?" + +"Kamerad!" the man echoed with an accent of contempt. "I am no German--I +am French. I have come through the Boche lines to-night with important +information which I desire to communicate forthwith to your commanding +officer." + +"Strike me!" his catechist breathed, skeptical. + +There was a new sound of splashing in the trench. A third voice chimed in: +"'Ello? Wot's all the row abaht?" + +"Step up and tike a look for yerself. 'Ere's a blighter wot sez 'e's com +from the Germ trenches with important information for the O.C." + +"Bloody liar," the newcomer commented dispassionately. "Mind yer eye. +Likely it's just another pl'yful little trick of the giddy Boche. 'Ere +you!" The splashing drew nearer. "Wot's yer gime? Speak up if yer don't +want a bullet through yer in'ards." + +"I play no game," the man said patiently. "I am unarmed--your prisoner, if +you like." + +"I like, all right. Mike yer mind easy abaht that. But wot's all this +'important information'?" + +"I shall divulge that only to the proper authorities. Be good enough to +conduct me to your commanding officer without more delay." + +"Wot do yer mike of 'im, corp'ril?" the first soldier enquired. "'Ow abaht +an inch or two o' the bay'net to loosen 'is tongue?" + +After a moment's hesitation in perplexed silence, the corporal took the +flash-lamp from the private and with its beam raked the prisoner from head +to foot, gaining little enlightenment from this review of a tall, spare +figure clothed in the familiar gray overcoat of the German private--its +face a mere mask of mud through which shone eyes of singular brilliance and +steadiness, the eyes of a man of intelligence, determination, and courage. + +"Keep yer 'ands 'igh," the corporal advised curtly. "Ginger, you search +'im." + +Propping his rifle against the wall of the trench, its butt on the +firing-step just out of water, the private proceeded painstakingly +to examine the person of the prisoner; in course of which process he +unbuttoned and threw open the gray overcoat, exposing a shapeless tunic and +trousers of shoddy drab stuff. + +"'E 'asn't got no arms--'e 'asn't got nothink, not so much as 'is blinkin' +latch-key." + +"Very good. Get back on yer post. I'll tike charge o' this one." + +Grounding his own rifle, the corporal fixed its bayonet, then employed it +in a gesture of unpleasant significance. + +"'Bout fice," he ordered. "March. Yer can drop yer 'ands--but don't go +forgettin' I'm right 'ere be'ind yer." + +In silence the prisoner obeyed, wading down the flooded trench, the +spot-light playing on his back, striking sullen gleams from the inky water +that swirled about his knees, and disclosing glimpses of coated figures +stationed at regular intervals along the firing-step, faces steadfast to +loopholes in the parapet. + +Now and again they passed narrow rifts in the walls of the trench, +entrances to dugouts betrayed by glimmers of candle-light through the +cracks of makeshift doors or the coarse mesh of gunnysack curtains. + +From one of these, at the corporal's summons, a sleepy subaltern stumbled +to attend ungraciously to his subordinate's report, and promptly ordered +the prisoner taken on to the regimental headquarters behind the lines. + +A little farther on captive and captor turned off into a narrow and +tortuous communication trench. Thereafter for upward of ten minutes they +threaded a labyrinth of deep, constricted, reeking ditches, with so little +to differentiate one from another that the prisoner wondered at the sure +sense of direction which enabled the corporal to find his way without +mis-step, with the added handicap of the abysmal darkness. Then, of a +sudden, the sides of the trench shelved sharply downward, and the two +debouched into a broad, open field. Here many men lay sleeping, with only +waterproof sheets for protection from that bitter deluge which whipped the +earth into an ankle-deep lake of slimy ooze and lent keener accent to the +abiding stench of filth and decomposing flesh. A slight hillock stood +between this field and the firing-line--where now lively fusillades +were being exchanged--its profile crowned with a spectral rank of +shell-shattered poplars sharply silhouetted against a sky in which +star-shells and Verey lights flowered like blooms of hell. + +Here the corporal abruptly commanded his prisoner to halt and himself +paused and stood stiffly at attention, saluting a group of three officers +who were approaching with the evident intention of entering the trench. One +of these loosed upon the pair the flash of a pocket lamp. At sight of the +gray overcoat all three stopped short. + +A voice with the intonation of habitual command enquired: "What have we +here?" + +The corporal replied: "A prisoner, sir--sez 'e's French--come across the +open to-night with important information--so 'e sez." + +The spot-light picked out the prisoner's face. The officer addressed him +directly. + +"What is your name, my man?" + +"That," said the prisoner, "is something which--like my intelligence--I +should prefer to communicate privately." + +With a startled gesture the officer took a step forward and peered intently +into that mud-smeared countenance. + +"I seem to know your voice," he said in a speculative tone. + +"You should," the prisoner returned. + +"Gentlemen," said the officer to his companions, "you may continue your +rounds. Corporal, follow me with your prisoner." + +He swung round and slopped off heavily through the mud of the open field. + +Behind them the sound of firing in the forward trenches swelled to an +uproar augmented by the shrewish chattering of machine-guns. Then a battery +hidden somewhere in the blackness in front of them came into action, +barking viciously. Shells whined hungrily overhead. The prisoner glanced +back: the maimed poplars stood out stark against a sky washed with wave +after wave of infernal light.... + +Some time later he was conscious of a cobbled way beneath his sodden +footgear. They were entering the outskirts of a ruined village. On either +hand fragments of walls reared up with sashless windows and gaping doors +like death masks of mad folk stricken in paroxysm. + +Within one doorway a dim light burned; through it the officer made his way, +prisoner and corporal at his heels, passing a sentry, then descending a +flight of crazy wooden steps to a dank and gloomy cellar, stone-walled +and vaulted. In the middle of the cellar stood a broad table at which an +orderly sat writing by the light of two candles stuck in the necks of empty +bottles. At another table, in a corner, a sergeant and an operator of the +Signal Corps were busy with field telephone and telegraph instruments. On a +meagre bed of damp and mouldy straw, against the farther wall, several men, +orderlies and subalterns, rested in stertorous slumbers. Despite the cold +the atmosphere was a reek of tobacco smoke, sweat, and steam from wet +clothing. + +The man at the centre table rose and saluted, offering the commanding +officer a sheaf of scribbled messages and reports. Taking the chair thus +vacated, the officer ran an eye over the papers, issued several orders +inspired by them, then turned attention to the prisoner. + +"You may return to your post, corporal." + +The corporal executed a smart about-face and clumped up the steps. In +answer to the officer's steadfast gaze the prisoner stepped forward and +confronted him across the table. + +"Who are you?" + +"My name," said the prisoner, after looking around to make sure that none +of the other tenants of the cellar was within earshot, "is Lanyard--Michael +Lanyard." + +"The Lone Wolf!" + +Involuntarily the officer jumped up, almost overturning his chair. + +"That same," the prisoner affirmed, adding with a grimace of besmirched and +emaciated features that was meant for a smile--"General Wertheimer." + +"Wertheimer is not my name." + +"I am aware of that. I uttered it merely to confirm my identity to you; it +is the only name I ever knew you by in the old days, when you were in the +British Secret Service and I a famous thief with a price upon my head, when +you and I played hide and seek across half Europe and back again--in the +days of Troyon's and 'the Pack,' the days of De Morbihan and Popinot +and...." + +"Ekstrom," the officer supplied as the prisoner hesitated oddly. + +"And Ekstrom," the other agreed. + +There was a little silence between the two; then the officer mused aloud: +"All dead!" + +"All ... but one." + +The officer looked up sharply. "Which--?" + +"The last-named." + +"Ekstrom? But we saw him die! You yourself fired the shot that--" + +"It was not Ekstrom. Trust that one not to imperil his precious carcase +when he could find an underling to run the risk for him! I tell you I have +seen Ekstrom within this last month, alive and serving the Fatherland as +the genius of that system of espionage which keeps the enemy advised of +your every move, down to the least considerable--that system which makes it +possible for the Boche to greet every regiment by name when it moves up to +serve its time in your advanced trenches." + +"You amaze me!" + +"I shall convince you; I bring intelligence which will enable you to tear +apart this web of treason within your own lines and...." + +Lanyard's voice broke. The officer remarked that he was +trembling--trembling so violently that to support himself he must grip the +edge of the table with both hands. + +"You are wounded?" + +"No--but cold to my very marrow, and faint with hunger. Even the German +soldiers are on starvation rations, now; the civilians are worse off; and +I--I have been over there for years, a spy, a hunted thing, subsisting as +casually as a sparrow!" + +"Sit down. Orderly!" + +And there was no more talk between these two for a time. Not only did the +officer refuse to hear another word before Lanyard had gorged his fill of +food and drink, but an exigent communication from the front, transmitted +through the trench telephone system, diverted his attention temporarily. + +Gnawing ravenously at bread and meat, Lanyard watched curiously the scenes +in the cellar, following, as best he might, the tides of combat; gathering +that German resentment of a British bombing enterprise (doubtless the work +of that same squad which had stolen past him in the gloom of No Man's Land) +had developed into a violent attempt to storm the forward trenches. +In these a desperate struggle was taking place. Reinforcements were +imperatively wanted. + +Activities at the signallers' table became feverish; the commanding officer +stood over it, reading incoming messages as they were jotted down and +taking such action thereupon as his judgment dictated. Orderlies, dragged +half asleep from their nests of straw, were shaken awake and despatched to +rouse and rush to the front the troops Lanyard had seen sleeping in the +open field. Other orderlies limped or reeled down the cellar steps, +delivered their despatches, and, staggered out through a breach in the wall +to have their injuries attended to in the field dressing-station in the +adjoining cellar, or else threw themselves down on the straw to fall +instantly asleep despite the deafening din. + +The Boche artillery, seeking blindly to silence the field batteries whose +fire was galling their offensive, had begun to bombard the village. Shells +fled shrieking overhead, to break in thunderous bellows. Walls toppled +with appalling crashes, now near at hand, now far. The ebb and flow of +rifle-fire at the front contributed a background of sound not unlike the +roaring of an angry surf. Machine-guns gibbered like maniacs. Heavier +artillery was brought into play behind the British lines, apparently at no +great distance from the village; the very flag-stones of the cellar floor +quaked to the concussions of big-calibre guns. + +Through the breach in the wall echoed the screams and groans of wounded. +The foul air became saturated with a sickening stench of iodoform. Gusts of +wet wind eddied hither and yon. Candles flickered and flared, guttered out, +were renewed. Monstrous shadows stole out from black corners, crept along +mouldy walls, crouched, sprang and vanished, or, inscrutably baffled, +retreated sullenly to their lairs.... + +For the better part of an hour the struggle continued; then its vigour +began to wane. The heaviest British metal went out of action; some time +later the field batteries discontinued their activities. The volume of +firing in the advance trenches dwindled, was fiercely renewed some half a +dozen times, died away to normal. Once more the Boche had been beaten back. + +Returning to his chair, the commanding officer rested his elbows upon the +table and bowed his head between his hands in an attitude of profound +fatigue. He seemed to remind himself of Lanyard's presence only at 'cost of +a racking effort, lifting heavy-lidded eyes to stare almost incredulously +at his face. + +"I presumed you were in America," he said in dulled accents. + +"I was ... for a time." + +"You came back to serve France?" + +Lanyard shook his head. "I returned to Europe after a year, the spring +before the war." + +"Why?" + +"I was hunted out of New York. The Boche would not let me be." + +The officer looked startled. "The Boche?" + +"More precisely, Herr Ekstrom--to name him as we knew him. But this I did +not suspect for a long time, that it was he who was responsible for my +persecution. I knew only that the police of America, informed of my +identity with the Lone Wolf, sought to deport me, that every avenue to +an honourable livelihood was closed. So I had to leave, to try to lose +myself." + +"Your wife ... I mean to say, you married, didn't you?" + +Lanyard nodded. "Lucy stuck by me till ... the end.... She had a little +money of her own. It financed our flight from the States. We made a +round-about journey of it, to elude surveillance--and, I think, succeeded." + +"You returned to Paris?" + +"No: France, like England, was barred to the Lone Wolf.... We settled down +in Belgium, Lucy and I and our boy. He was three months old. We found a +quiet little home in Louvain--" + +The officer interrupted with a low cry of apprehension, Lanyard checked him +with a sombre gesture. "Let me tell you.... + +"We might have been happy. None knew us. We were sufficient unto ourselves. +But I was without occupation; it occurred to me that my memoirs might +make good reading--for Paris; my friends the French are as fond of their +criminals as you English of your actors. On the second of August I +journeyed to Paris to negotiate with a publisher. While I was away the +Boche invaded Belgium. Before I could get back Louvain had been occupied, +sacked...." + +He sat for a time in brooding silence; the officer made no attempt to +rouse him, but the gaze he bent upon the man's lowered head was grave and +pitiful. Abruptly, in a level and toneless voice, Lanyard resumed: + +"In order to regain my home I had to go round by way of England and +Holland. I crossed the Dutch frontier disguised as a Belgian peasant. When +I reentered Louvain it was to find ... But all the world knows what the +blond beast did in Louvain. My wife and little son had vanished utterly. I +searched three months before I found trace of either. Then ... Lucy died in +my arms in a wretched hovel near Aerschot. She had seen our child butchered +before her eyes. She herself...." + +Lanyard's hand, that rested on the table, clenched and whitened beneath its +begrimed skin. His eyes fathomed distances immeasurably removed beyond the +confines of that grim cellar. But he presently continued: + +"Ekstrom had accompanied the army of invasion, had seen and recognized Lucy +in passing through Louvain. Therefore she and my son were among the first +to be sacrificed.... When I stood over her grave I dedicated my life to the +extermination of Ekstrom and all his breed. I have since done things I do +not like to think about. But the Prussian spy system is the weaker for my +work.... + +"But Ekstrom I could never find. It was as if he knew I hunted him. He was +seldom twenty-four hours ahead of me, yet I never caught up with him but +once; and then he was too closely guarded.... I pursued him to Berlin, +to Potsdam, three times to the western front, to Serbia, once to +Constantinople, twice to Petrograd." + +The officer uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Lanyard looked his way +with a depreciatory air. + +"Nothing strange about that. To one of my early training that was +easy--everything was easy but the end I sought.... En passant I collected +information concerning the workings of the Prussian spy system. From time +to time I found means to communicate somewhat of this to the Surete in +Paris. I believe France and England have already profited a little through +my efforts. They shall profit more, and quickly, when I have told all that +I have to tell.... + +"Of a sudden Ekstrom vanished. Overnight he disappeared from Germany. A +false lead brought me back to this front. Two days ago I learned he had +been sent to America on a secret mission. Knowing that the States have +severed diplomatic relations with Berlin and tremble on the verge of a +declaration of war, we can surmise something of the nature of his mission. +I mean to see that he fails.... To follow him to America, making my way +out through Belgium and Holland, pursuing such furtive ways as I must in +territory dominated by the Boche, meant much time lost. So I came through +the lines to-night. Fortune was kind in throwing me into your hands: I +count upon your assistance. As an ex-agent of the Secret Service you are in +a position to make smooth my path; as an Englishman, you will advance the +interests of a prospective ally of England if you help me to the limit of +your ability; for what I mean to do in America will serve that country, by +exposing the conspiracies of the Boche across the water, as much as it will +serve my private ends." + +The officer's hand fell across the table and closed upon the knotted fist +of the Lone Wolf. + +"As an Englishman," he said simply--"of course. But no less as your +friend." + + + + +II + +FROM A BRITISH PORT + + +"And one man in his time plays many parts": few more than this same +Lanyard. In no way to be identified with the hunted creature who crept into +the British lines out of No Man's Land was the Monsieur Duchemin who, ten +days after that wintry midnight, took passage for New York from "a British +port," aboard the steamship _Assyrian_. + +Andre Duchemin was the name inscribed in the credentials furnished him in +recognition of signal assistance rendered the British Secret Service in its +task of scotching the Prussian spy system. And the personality he chose +to assume suited well the name. A man of modest and amiable deportment, +viewing the world with eyes intelligent and curious, his temper reacting +from its ways in terms of grave humour, Monsieur Duchemin passed peaceably +on his lawful occasions, took life as he found it, made the best of irksome +circumstances. + +This last idiosyncrasy stood him in good stead. For the _Assyrian_ failed +to clear upon her proposed sailing date and for a livelong week thereafter +chafed alongside her landing stage, steam up, cargo laden and stowed, +nothing lacking but the Admiralty's permission to begin her westbound +voyage--a permission inscrutably withheld, giving rise to a common +discontent which the passengers dissembled to the various best of their +abilities, that is to say, in most cases thinly or not at all. + +Yet they were none of them unreasonable beings. They had come aboard one +and all keyed up to a high nervous pitch, pardonable in such as must commit +their lives to the dread adventure of the barred zone, wanting nothing +so much as to get it over with, whatever its upshot. And everlasting +procrastination required them day after day to steel their hearts anew +against that Terror which followed its furtive ways beneath the leaden +waters of the Channel! + +Alone among them this Monsieur Duchemin paraded successfully a false face +of resignation, protesting no predilection whatsoever for a watery grave, +no infatuate haste to challenge the Hun upon his chosen hunting-ground. In +the fullness of time it would be permitted to him to go down to the sea in +this ship. Meanwhile he found it apparently pleasant and restful to explore +the winding cobbled ways of that antiquated waterside community, made over +by the hand of War into a bustling seaport, or to tramp the sunken lanes +that seamed those green old Cornish hills which embosomed the wide harbour +waters, or to lounge about the broad white decks of the _Assyrian_ watching +the diurnal traffic of the haven--a restless, warlike pageant. + +Daily, in earliest dusk of dawn, the wakeful might watch the faring forth +of a weirdly assorted fleet of small craft, the day patrol, to relieve a +night patrol as weirdly heterogeneous. Daily, at all hours, mine-sweepers +came and went, by twos and twos, in flocks, in schools; and daily bellowing +offshore detonations advertised their success in garnering those horned +black seeds of death which the Hun and his kin were sedulous to sow in the +fairways. While daily battleships both great and small rolled in wearily to +refit and dress their wounds, or took swift departure on grim and secret +errands. + +There was, moreover, the not-infrequent spectacle of some minor ship of +war--a truculent, gray destroyer as like as not--shepherding in a sleek +submarine, like a felon whale armoured and strangely caparisoned in +gray-brown steel, to be moored in chains with a considerable company of its +fellows on the far side of the roadstead, while its crew was taken ashore +and consigned to some dark limbo of oblivion. + +And once, with a light cruiser snapping at her heels, a drab Norwegian +tramp plodded sullenly into port, a mine-layer caught red-handed, plying +its assassin's trade beneath a neutral flag. + +Not long after its crew had been landed, volleys of musketry crashed in the +town gaol-yard. + +One of a group of three idling on the promenade deck of the _Assyrian_, +Lanyard turned sharply and stared through narrowed eyelids into the quarter +whence the sounds reverberated. + +The man at his side, a loose-jointed American of the commercial caste, +paused momentarily in his task of masticating a fat dark cigar. + +"This way out," he commented thoughtfully. + +Lanyard nodded; but the third, a plumply ingratiative native of Geneva, +known to the ship as Emil Dressier, frowned in puzzlement. + +"Pardon, Monsieur Crane, but what is that you say--'this way out'?" + +"Simply," Crane explained, "I take the firing to mean the execution of our +nootral friends from Norway." + +The Swiss shuddered. "It is most terrible!" + +"Well, I don't know about that. They done their damnedest to fix it for us +to drown somewhere out there in the nice, cold English Channel. I'm just as +satisfied it's them, instead, with their backs to a stone wall in the +warm sunlight, getting their needin's. That's only justice. Eh, Monsieur +Duchemin?" + +"It is war," said Lanyard with a shrug. + +"And war is ... No: Sherman was all wrong. Hell's got perfectly good +grounds for a libel suit against William Tecumseh for what he up and said +about it and war, all in the same breath." + +Lanyard smiled faintly, but Dressler pondered this obscure reference with +patent distress. Crane champed his cigar reflectively. + +"What's more to our purpose," he said presently: "I shouldn't be surprised +if this meant the wind-up of our rest-cure here. That's the third +mine-layer they've collected this week--two subs, and now this benevolent +nootral. Am I right, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Who knows?" Lanyard replied with a smile. "Even now the mine-sweeping +flotilla is coming home, as you see; which means, the neighbouring waters +have been cleared. It is altogether a possibility that we may be permitted +to depart this night." + +Even so the event: as that day's sun declined amid a portentous welter of +crimson and purple and gold, the moorings were cast off and the _Assyrian_ +warped out into mid-channel and anchored there for the night. + +Inasmuch as she was to sail as the tide served, some time before sunrise, +the passengers were advised to seek their berths at an early hour. Thirty +minutes before the steamship entered the danger zone (as she would soon +after leaving the harbour) they would be roused and were expected promptly +to assemble on deck, with life-preservers, and station themselves near the +boats to which they were individually assigned. + +For their further comforting they were treated, in the ebb of the chill +blue twilight, to boat-drill and final instructions in the right adjustment +of life-belts. + +A preoccupied company assembled in the dining saloon for what might be +its last meal. In the shadow of the general apprehension, conversation +languished; expressions of relief on the part of those who had been loudest +in complaining at the delays were notably unheard; even Crane, Lanyard's +nearest neighbour at table, was abnormally subdued. Reviewing that array of +sobered and anxious faces, Lanyard remarked--not for the first time, but +with renewed gratitude--that in all the roster of passengers none were +children and but two were women: the American widow of an English officer +and her very English daughter, an angular and superior spinster. + +Avoiding the customary post-prandial symposium in the smoking room, Lanyard +slipped away with his cigar for a lonely turn on deck. + +Beneath a sky heavily canopied, the night was stark black and loud with +clashing waters. A fitful wind played in gusts now grim, now groping, like +a lost thing blundering blindly about in that deep darkness. Ashore a +few wan lights, widely spaced, winked uncertainly, withdrawn in vast +remoteness; those near at hand, of the anchored shipping, skipped and +swayed and flickered in mad mazes of goblin dance. To him who paced those +vacant, darkened decks, the sense of dissociation from all the common, +kindly phenomena of civilization was something intimate and inescapable. +Melancholy as well rode upon that black-winged wind. + +At pause beneath the bridge, the adventurer rested elbows upon the teakwood +rail and with importunate eyes searched the masked face of his destiny. +There was great fear in his heart, not of death, but lest death overtake +him before that scarlet hour when he should encounter the man whom he must +always think of as "Ekstrom." + +After that, nothing would matter: let Death come then as swiftly as it +willed.... + +He was not even middle-aged, on the hither side of thirty; yet his attitude +was that of one who had already crossed the great divide of the average +mortal span: he looked backward upon a life, never forward to one. To him +his history seemed a thing written, lacking the one word Finis: he had +lived and loved and lost--had arrayed himself insolently against God and +Man, had been lifted toward the light a little way by a woman's love, had +been thrust relentlessly back into the black pit of his damnation. He made +no pretense that it was otherwise with him: remained now merely the thing +he had been in the beginning, minus that divine spark which love had once +kindled into consuming aspiration toward the right; the Lone Wolf prowled +again to-day and would henceforth forevermore, the beast of prey callous +to every human emotion, animated by one deadly purpose, existing but to +destroy and be in turn destroyed.... + +Two decks below, about amidships, a cargo port was thrust open to the +night. A thick, broad beam of light leaped out, buffeting the murk, +striking evanescent glimmers from the rocking facets of the waters. +Deckhands busied themselves rigging out an accommodation ladder. A tender +of little tonnage panted nervously up out of nowhere and was made fast +alongside. The light raked its upper deck, picking out in passing a group +of men in uniforms. Fugitively something resembling a petticoat snapped +in the wind. Then several persons moved toward the accommodation ladder, +climbed it, disappeared through the cargo port. The wearer of the petticoat +did not accompany them. + +Lanyard noted these matters subconsciously, for the time altogether +preoccupied, casting forward his thoughts along those dim trails his feet +must tread who followed his dark star.... + +Ten minutes later a deck-steward found him, and paused, touching his cap. + +"Beg pardon, sir, but all passingers is requested to report immedately in +the music room." + +Indifferently Lanyard thanked the man and went below, to find the music +room tenanted by a full muster of his fellow passengers, all more or less +indignantly waiting to be cross-examined by the party of port officials +from the tender--the ship's purser standing by together with the second and +third officers and a number of stewards. + +Resentment was not unwarranted: already, before being suffered to take up +quarters on board the _Assyrian_, each passenger had submitted to a most +comprehensive survey of his credentials, his mental, moral, and social +status, his past record, present affairs, and future purposes. A formality +to be expected by all such as travel in war time, it had been rigid but +mild in contrast with this eleventh-hour inquisition--a proceeding so +drastic and exhaustive that the only plausible inference was official +determination to find excuse for ordering somebody ashore in irons. Nothing +was overlooked: once passports and other proofs of identity had been +scrutinized, each passenger was conducted to his stateroom and his person +and luggage subjected to painstaking search. None escaped; on the other +hand, not one was found guilty of flagitious peculiarity. In the upshot the +inquisitors, baffled and betraying every symptom of disappointment, were +fain to give over and return to their tender. + +By this time Lanyard, one of the last to be grilled and passed, found +himself as little inclined for sleep as the most timorous soul on board. +Selecting an American novel from the ship's library, he repaired to +the smoking room, where, established in a corner apart, he became an +involuntary and, at first, a largely inattentive, eavesdropper upon an +animated debate involving some eight or ten gentlemen at a table in the +middle of the saloon--its subject, the recent visitation. + +Measures so extraordinary were generally held to indicate an incentive more +extraordinary still. + +"You can't get away from it," he heard Crane declare: "there's some sort of +funny business going on, or liable to go on, aboard this ship. She wasn't +held up for a solid week out of pure cussedness. Neither did they come +aboard to-night to give us another once-over through sheer voluptuousness. +There's a reason." + +"And what," a satiric English voice enquired, "do you assume that reason to +be?" + +"Search me. 'Sfar's I'm concerned the processes of the British Intelligence +Office are a long sight past finding out." + +"It is simple enough," one of Crane's compatriots suggested: "the +_Assyrian_ is suspected of entertaining a devil unawares." + +"Monsieur means--?" the Swiss enquired. + +"I mean, the authorities may have been led to believe some one of us a +questionable character." + +"German spy?" + +"Possibly." + +"Or an English traitor?" + +"Impossible," asserted another Briton heavily. "There is to-day no such +thing in England. Two years ago the supposition might have been plausible. +But that breed has long since been stamped out--in England." + +"Another guess," Crane cut in: "they've taken considerable trouble to clear +the track for us. Maybe it occurred to somebody at the last moment to make +sure none of us was likely to pull off an inside job." + +"'Inside job?'" Dressler pleaded. + +"Planting bombs in the coal bunkers--things like that--anything to crab our +getting through the barred zone in spite of mines and U-boats." + +"Any such attempt would mean almost certain death!" + +"What of it? It's been tried before--and got away with. You've got to hand +it to Fritz, he'll risk hell-for-breakfast cheerful any time he gets it in +his bean he's serving Gott und Vaterland." + +"Granted," said the Englishman. "But I fancy such an one would find it far +from easy to secure passage upon this or any other vessel." + +"How so? You may have haltered all your traitors, but there's still +a-plenty German spies living in England. Even you admit that. And if they +can get by your Secret Service, to say nothing of Scotland Yard, what's to +prevent their fixing to leave the country?" + +"Nothing, certainly. But I still contend it is hardly likely." + +"Of course it's hardly likely. Look at these guys to-night--dead set on +making an awful example of anybody that couldn't come clean. I didn't +notice them missing any bets. They combed me to the Queen's taste; for +a while I was sure scared they'd extract my pivot tooth to see if there +wasn't something incriminating and degrading secreted inside it. And nobody +got off any easier. _I_ say the good ship _Assyrian_ has a pretty clean +bill of health to go sailing with." + +"On the other hand"--yet another American voice was speaking--"no spy or +criminal worth his salt would try to ship without preparations thorough +enough to insure success, barring accidents." + +"Criminal?" drawled the Briton incredulously. + +"The enterprisin' burglar keeps a-burglin', even in war time. There have +been notable burglaries in London of late, according to your newspapers." + +"And you think the thief would attempt to smuggle his loot out of the +country aboard such a ship as this?" + +"Why not?" + +"Scotland Yard to the contrary notwithstanding?" + +"If Scotland Yard is as efficient as you think, sir, certainly any sane +thief would make every effort to leave a country it was making too hot for +him." + +"Considerable criminal!" Crane jeered. + +"Undeceive yourself, senor." This was a Brazilian, a quiet little dark body +who commonly contented himself with a listening role in the smoking-room +discussions. "There are truly criminals of intelligence. And war conditions +are driving them out of Europe." + +Of a sudden Lanyard--stretched out at length upon the leather cushions, +in full view of these gossips--became aware that he was being closely +scrutinised. By whom, with what reason or purpose, he could not surmise; +and it were unwise to look up from that printed page. But that sixth sense +of his--intuition, what you will--that exquisitively sensitive sentinel +admonished that at least one person in the room was watching him narrowly. + +Though he made no move other than to turn a page, his glance followed +blindly blurring lines of text, and his quickened wits overlooked no shade +of meaning or intonation as that talk continued. + +"A criminal of intelligence," some one observed, "is a giddy paradox whose +fatuous existence is quite fittingly confined to the realm of fable." + +"You took the identical words right out of my mouth," Crane complained +bitterly. + +"Your pardon, senores: history confutes your incredulity." + +"But we are talking about to-day." + +"Even to-day--can you deny it?--men attain high places by means which the +law would construe as criminal, were they not intelligent enough to outwit +it." + +"Big game," Crane objected; "something else again. What we contend is no +man of ordinary common sense could get his own consent to crack a safe, or +pick a pocket, or do second-story work, or pull any rough stuff like that." + +"Again you overlook living facts," persisted the Brazilian. + +"Name one--just one." + +"The Lone Wolf, then." + +"Unnatural history is out of my line," Crane objected. "Why is a lone wolf, +anyway?" + +The Brazilian's voice took on an accent of exasperation. "Senores, I do not +jest. I am a student of psychology, more especially of criminal psychology. +I lived long in Paris before this war, and took deep interest in the case +of the Lone Wolf." + +"Well, you've got me all excited. Go on with your story." + +"With much pleasure.... This gentleman, then, this Michael Lanyard, as he +called himself, was a distinguished Parisian figure, a man of extraordinary +attainment, esteemed the foremost connoisseur d'art in all Europe. +Suddenly, at the zenith of his career, he disappeared. Subsequently it +became known that he had been identical with that great Parisian criminal, +the Lone Wolf, a superman of thieves who had plundered all Europe with +unvarying success for almost a decade." + +"Then what made the silly ass quit?" + +"According to my information, he won the love of a young woman--" + +"And reformed for her sake, of course?" + +"To the contrary, senor; Lanyard renounced his double life because of a +theory on which he had founded his astonishing success. According to this +theory, any man of intelligence may defy society as long as he will, always +providing he has no friend, lover, or confederate in whom to confide. A man +self-contained can never be betrayed; the stupid police seldom apprehend +even the most stupid criminal, save through the treachery of some intimate. +This Lanyard proved his theory by confounding not only the utmost +efforts of the police but even the jealous enmity of that association of +Continental criminals known as the Bande Noire--until he became a lover. +Then he proved his intelligence: in one stroke he flouted the police, +delivered into their hands the inner circle of the Bande Noire, and +vanished with the woman he loved." + +"And then--?" + +"The rest," said the Brazilian, "is silence." + +"It is for to-night, anyway," Crane observed, yawning. "It's bedtime. Here +comes the busy steward to put the lights and us out." + +There was a general stir; men drained glasses, knocked out pipes, got up, +murmured good-nights. Lanyard closed the American novel upon a forefinger, +looked up abstractedly, rose, moved toward the door. The utmost effort of +exceptional powers of covert observation assured him that, at the moment, +none of the company favoured him with especial attention; the author of +that interest whose intensity had so weighed upon his consciousness had +been swift to dissemble. + +On his way forward he exchanged bows and smiles with Crane and one or two +others, his gesture completely casual. Yet when he entered the starboard +alleyway he carried with him a complete catalogue of those who had +contributed to the conversation. With all, thanks to seven days' +association, he stood on terms of shipboard acquaintance. Not one, in his +esteem, was more potentially mischievous than any other--not even the +Brazilian Velasco, though he had been the first to name the Lone Wolf. + +It was, furthermore, quite possible that the mention of his erstwhile +sobriquet had been utterly fortuitous. + +And yet, one might not forget that sensation of being under intent +surveillance.... + +In his stateroom Lanyard stood for several minutes gravely peering into the +mirror above the washstand. + +The face he scanned was lean and worn in feature, darkly weathered, framed +in hair whose jet already boasted an accent of silver at either temple--the +face of a man inured to hardship, seasoned in suffering, strong in +self-knowledge. The incandescence of an intelligence coldly dispassionate, +quick and shrewd, lighted those dark eyes. Distinctively a face of Gallic +cast, three years of long-drawn torment had served in part to erase from +it wellnigh all resemblance to both the brilliant social freebooter of +ante-bellum Paris and that undesirable alien whom the authorities had +sought to deport from the States. Amazing facility in impersonation had +done the rest; unrecognisable as what he had been, he was to-day flawlessly +the incarnation of what he elected to seem--Monsieur Duchemin, gentleman, +of Paris. + +Impossible to believe his disguise had been so soon penetrated.... + +And yet, again, that gossip of the smoking room.... + +Police work? Or had Ekstrom's creatures picked up his trail once more? + +Beneath that urbane mask of his, a hunted, wild thing poised in question, +mistrustful of the very wind, prick-eared, fangs agleam, eyes grimly +apprehensive.... + +A little sound, the least of metallic clicks, breaking the hush of his +solitude, froze the adventurer to attention. Only his glance swerved +swiftly to a fastened door in the forward partition--his stateroom being +the aftermost of three that might be thrown together to form a suite. The +nickeled knob was being tried with infinite precaution. On the half turn it +checked with a faint repetition of the click. Then the door itself quivered +almost imperceptibly to pressure, though it yielded not a fraction of an +inch. + +Lanyard's eyes hardened. He did not stir from where he stood, but one hand +whipped an automatic from his pocket while the other darted out to the +switch-box by the head of his berth and extinguished the light. + +Instantly a glimmer of light in the forward stateroom showed through +a narrow strip of iron grill-work set in the top of the partition for +ventilating purposes. + +Simultaneously the door-knob was gently released, and with another louder +click the light in the adjoining cubicle was blotted out. + +Mystified, Lanyard undressed and turned in, but not to sleep--not for a +little, at least. + +Who might this neighbour be who tried his door so stealthily? Before +to-night that room had had no tenant. Apparently one of the passengers had +seen fit to shift his quarters. To what end? To keep a jealous eye on +the Lone Wolf, perhaps? So much the better, then: Lanyard need only make +enquiry in the morning to identify his enemy. + +Deliberately closing his eyes, he dismissed the enigma. He possessed in +marked degree that attribute of genius, ability to command slumber at will. +Swiftly the troubled deeps of thought grew calm; on their placid surface +inconsequent visions were mirrored darkly, fugitive scenes from the store +of subconscious memory: Crane's lantern-jawed physiognomy, keen eyes +semi-veiled by humorously drooping lids, the extreme corner of his mouth +bulging round his everlasting cigar ... grimy lions in Trafalgar Square of +a rainy afternoon ... the octagonal room of L'Abbaye Theleme at three in +the morning, a swirl of Bacchanalian shapes ... Wertheimer's soldierly +figure beside the telegraphers' table in that noisome cave at the Front ... +the deck of a tender in darkness swept by a shaft of yellow light which +momentarily revealed a group of folk with upturned faces, a petticoat +fluttering in its midst.... + + + + +III + +IN THE BARRED ZONE + + +Day broke with rather more than half a gale blowing beneath a louring sky. +Once clear of the bottleneck mouth of the harbour, the _Assyrian_ ran into +brutal quartering seas. An old hand at such work, for upward of a decade +a steady-paced Dobbin of the transatlantic lanes, she buckled down to it +doggedly and, remembering her duty by her passengers, rolled no more than +she had to, buried her nose in the foaming green only when she must. For +all her care, the main deck forward was alternately raked by stinging +volleys of spray and scoured by frantic cascades. More than once the crew +of the bow gun narrowly escaped being carried overboard to a man. Blue with +cold, soaked to the buff despite oilskins, they stuck stubbornly to their +posts. Perched beyond reach of shattering wavecrests, the passengers on the +boat-deck huddled unhappily in the lee of the superstructure--and snarled +in response to the cheering information that better conditions for baffling +the ubiquitous U-boat could hardly have been brewed by an indulgent +Providence. Sheeting spindrift contributed to lower visibility: two +destroyers standing on parallel courses about a mile distant to port and +to starboard were more often than not barely discernible, spectral vessels +reeling and dipping in the haze. The ceaseless whistle of wind in the +rigging was punctuated by long-drawn howls which must have filled any +conscientious banshee with corrosive envy. + +Toward mid-morning rain fell in torrents, driving even the most fearful +passengers to shelter within the superstructure. A majority crowded the +landing at the head of the main companionway close by the leeward door. +Bolder spirits marched off to the smoking room--Crane starting this +movement with the declaration that, for his part, he would as lief drown +like a rat in a trap as battling to keep up in the frigid inferno of those +raging seas. A handful of miserables, too seasick to care whether the ship +swam or sank, mutinously took to their berths. + +Stateroom 27--adjoining Lanyard's--sported obstinately a shut door. +Lanyard, sedulous not to discover his interest by questioning the stewards, +caught never a glimpse of its occupant. For his own satisfaction he took a +covert census of passengers on deck as the vessel entered the danger zone, +and made the tally seventy-one all told--the number on the passenger list +when the _Assyrian_ had left her landing stage the previous evening. + +It seemed probable, therefore, that the person in 27 had come aboard from +the tender, either with or following the official party. Lanyard was +unable to say that more had not left the tender than appeared to sit in +inquisition in the music room. + +By noon the wind was beginning to moderate, and the sea was being beaten +down by that relentlessly lashing rain. Visibility, however, was more low +than ever. A fairly representative number descended to the dining saloon +for luncheon--a meal which none finished. Midway in its course a thunderous +explosion to starboard drove all in panic once more to the decks. + +Within two hundred yards of the _Assyrian_ a floating mine had destroyed a +patrol boat. No more was left of it than an oil-filmed welter of splintered +wreckage: of its crew, never a trace. + +Imperturbably the _Assyrian_ proceeded. Not so her passengers: now the +smoking room was deserted even by the insouciant Crane, and the seasick to +a woman brought their troubles back to the boat-deck. + +Alone the tenant of 27 stopped below. And the riddle of this ostensible +indifference to terrors that clawed at the vitals of every other soul on +board grew to intrigue Lanyard to the point of obsession. Was the reason +brute apathy or sheer foolhardihood? He refused either explanation, +feeling sure some darker and more momentous motive dictated this obstinate +avoidance of the public eye. Exasperation aroused by failure to fathom the +mystery took precedence in his thoughts even to the personal solicitude +excited by last night's gossip of the smoking room.... + +With no other disturbing incident the afternoon wore away, the wind +steadily flagging, the waves as steadily subsiding. When twilight closed in +there was nothing more disturbing to one's equilibrium than a sea of long +and sullen rolls scored by the pelting downpour. + +Perhaps as many as ten venturesome souls dined in the saloon, their fellows +sticking desperately to the decks and contenting themselves with coffee and +sandwiches. + +Daylight waned, terrors waxed: passengers instinctively gravitated into +little knots and clusters, conversing guardedly as if fearful lest their +normal accents bring down upon them those Apaches of the underseas for +signs of whom their frightened glances incessantly ranged over-rail and +searched the heaving wastes. + +The understanding was tacit that all would spend the night on deck. + +Dusk at length blotted out the shadows of their guardian destroyers, and a +great and desolating loneliness settled down upon the ship. One by one +the passengers grew dumb; still they clung together, but seemingly their +tongues would no more function. + +With nightfall, the rain ceased, the breeze freshened a trifle, the pall of +cloud lifted and broke, giving glimpses of remote, impersonal stars. Later +a gibbous moon leered through the flying wrack, checkering the sea with +a restless pattern of black and silver. In this ghastly setting the +_Assyrian_, showing no lights, a shape of flying darkness pursuing a course +secret to all save her navigators, strained ever onward, panting, groaning, +quivering from stem to stern ... like an enchanted thing doomed to +perpetual labours, striving vainly to break bonds invisible that transfixed +her to one spot forever-more, in the midst of that bleak purgatory of +shadow and moonshine and dread.... + +Sensitive to the eerie influence of the hour, Lanyard interrupted the tour +of the decks which he had steadily pursued for the better part of the +evening, and rested at the forward rail, looking down over the main deck, +its bleached planking dotted with dark shapes of fixed machinery. In the +bows the formless, uncouth bulk of the gun squatted in its tarpaulin. Its +crew tramped heavily to and fro, shivering in heavy jackets, hands in +pockets, shoulders hunched up to ears. Farther aft an iron door clanged +heavily behind a sailor emerging from an alleyway; he approached the ship's +bell, with practised hand sounded two double strokes, then turned and sang +out in the weird minor traditional in his calling: + +"_Four bells--and a-a-all's well_!" + +Even as the wind made free with the melancholy echoes of that assurance, +the spell upon the ship was exorcised. + +Overhead, from the foremast crow's-nest, a voice screamed, hoarsely urgent: + +"_Torpedo! 'Ware submarine to port_!" + +Many things happened simultaneously, or in a span of seconds strangely +scant. The gunners sprang to station, whipping away the tarpaulin, while +their lieutenant focussed binoculars upon the confused distances of the +night. Obedient to his instructions, the long, gleaming tube of steel +pivoted smoothly to port. + +From the bridge a signal rocket soared, hissing. The whistle loosed +stentorian squalls of indignation and distress--one long and four short. +Commands were shouted; the engine-room telegraph wrangled madly. The +momentum of the _Assyrian_ was checked startlingly; her bows sheered +smartly off to port. + +A rumour of frightened voices and pounding feet came from the leeward +boat-deck, where the main body of the passengers was congregated, hidden +from Lanyard by the shoulder of the foreward deck-house. A number of men +ran forward, paused by the rail, stared, and scurried back, yelling in +alarm. At this the din swelled to uproar. + +Scanning closely the surface of the sea, Lanyard himself descried a silvery +arrow of spray lancing the swells, making with deadly speed toward the port +bow of the _Assyrian_. But now both screws were churning full speed astern; +the vessel lost headway altogether. Then her engines stopped. For a +breathless instant she rested inert, like something paralyzed with fright, +bows-on to the torpedo, the telegraph ringing frantically. Then the +starboard screw began to turn full ahead, the port remaining idle. The +bows swung off still more sharply to port. The torpedo shot in under them, +vanished for a breathless moment, reappeared a boat's-length to starboard, +plunged harmlessly on its unhindered way down the side of the vessel, and +disappeared astern. + +Amidships terrified passengers milled like sheep, hampering the work of the +boat-crews at the davits. Ship's officers raged among them, endeavouring +to restore order. Half a mile or so dead ahead a tiny tongue of flame spat +viciously in the murk. A projectile shrieked overhead, and dropped into the +sea astern. Another followed and fell short. + +The U-boat was shelling the _Assyrian_. + +The forward gun barked violent expostulation, if without visible effect; +the submarine lobbing two more shells at the steamship with an indifference +to its own peril astonishing in one of its craven breed, trained to strike +and run before counterstroke may be delivered. Its extraordinary temerity, +indeed, argued ignorance of the convoying destroyers. + +Coincident with the second shot, however, these unleashed searchlights +slashed the dark through and through with their great, white, fanlike +blades, till first one then the other picked up and steadied relentlessly +upon a toy-boat shape that swam the swells about midway between the +_Assyrian_ and the destroyer off the port bows. + +Simultaneously the quickfirers of the latter went into action, jetting +orange flame. In the searchlights' glare, spurts of white water danced all +round the submarine. A mutter of gunfire rolled over to the _Assyrian_, +abruptly silenced by an imperative deep voice of heavier metal--which spoke +but once. + +With the lurid unreality of clap-trap theatrical illusion the U-boat +vomited a great, spreading sheet of flame.... + +Someone at the rail, near Lanyard's shoulder, uttered a hushed cry of +horror. + +He paid no heed, his interest wholly focussed upon that distant patch of +shining water. As his dazzled vision cleared he saw that the submarine had +disappeared. + +Unconsciously, in French, he commented: "So that is finished!" + +Likewise in French, but in a woman's voice of uncommon quality, deep +and bell-sweet, came the protest from the passenger at his side: "But, +monsieur, what are we doing? We turn away from them--those poor things +drowning there!" + +That was quite true: under forced draught the _Assyrian_ was heading away +on a new course. + +"They drown out there in that black water--and we leave them to that!" + +Lanyard turned. "The destroyers will take care of them," he said--"if any +survived that explosion with strength enough to swim." + +He spoke from the surface of his thoughts and with a calm that veiled +profound surprise. The woman by his side was neither the American widow nor +her English daughter, but wholly a stranger to the ship's company he knew. + +The training of the Lone Wolf had been wasted if one swift glance had +failed to comprehend every essential detail: that tall, straight, slender +figure cloaked in the folds of a garment whose hood framed a face of +singular pallor and sweetness in the moonlight, its shadowed eyes wide with +emotion, its lips a little parted.... + +With a shiver she lifted her hands to her eyes as if to darken the visions +of her imagination. + +"They die out there," she said, in murmurs barely audible.... "We turn our +backs on them.... You think that right?" + +"We play the game by the rules the enemy himself laid down," Lanyard +returned. "They would have sunk us without one qualm of pity--would, in all +probability, have shelled our boats had any succeeded in getting off. They +have done as much before, and will again. It is out of reason to insist +that the captain risk his ship in the hope of picking up one or two +drowning assassins." + +"Risk his ship? How? They are helpless--" + +"As a rule, U-boats hunt in pairs; always, when specially charged to sink +one certain vessel. It was so with the _Lusitania_, with the _Arabic_ as +well; I don't doubt it was so in this instance--that we should have heard +from a second submarine had not the destroyers opened fire when they did." + +The woman stared. "You think that--?" + +"That the Boche had specific instructions to waylay and sink the +_Assyrian_? I begin to think that--yes." + +This declaration affected the woman curiously; she shrank away a little, as +from a blow, her eyes winced, her pale lips quivered. When she spoke, it +was, strangely enough, in English so naturally enunciated that Lanyard +could not doubt that this was her mother tongue. + +"Then you think it is because...." + +Of a sudden she wilted, clinging to the rail and trembling wildly. + +Lanyard shot a glance aft. The disorder among the passengers was measurably +less, though excitement still ran so high that he felt sure they were as +yet unnoticed. On impulse he stepped nearer. + +"Pardon, mademoiselle," he said quietly; "you are excusably unstrung. +But all danger is past; and there is still time to regain your stateroom +unobserved. If you will permit me to escort you...." + +He watched her narrowly, but she showed no surprise at this suggestion of +intimacy with her affairs. After a brief moment she pulled herself together +and dropped a hand upon the arm he offered. In another minute he was +helping her over the raised watersill of the door. + +Like all the ship the landing and main companionway were dark; but below, +on the promenade deck, the second doorway aft on the starboard side stood +ajar, affording a glimpse of a dimly lighted stateroom. + +With neither hesitation nor surprise--for he was already satisfied in this +matter--Lanyard conducted the woman to this door and stopped. + +Her hand fell from his arm. She faltered on the threshold of Stateroom 27, +eyeing him dubiously. + +"Thank you, monsieur...?" + +There was just enough accent of enquiry to warrant his giving her the name: +"Duchemin, mademoiselle." + +"Monsieur Duchemin.... Please to tell me how you knew this was my +stateroom?" + +"I occupy Stateroom 29. There was no one in 27 till after the tender came +out last night. Furthermore, your face was strange, and I have come to know +all others on board during our week's delay in port." + +The light was at her back; he could distinguish little of her shadowed +features, but fancied her a bit discountenanced. + +In a subdued voice she said, "Thank you," once more, a hand resting +significantly on the door-knob. But still he lingered. + +"If mademoiselle would be so good as to tell me something in return--?" + +"If I can...." + +"Then why, mademoiselle, did you try my door last night?" + +"It was neither locked nor bolted on my side. I wished to make sure--" + +"So one fancied. Thank you. Good-night, mademoiselle...?" + +She was impervious to his hint. "Good-night, Monsieur Duchemin," she said, +and closed the door. + +Now Lanyard's quarters opened not on this alleyway fore-and-aft but on a +short and narrow athwartship passage. And as he turned away he saw out of +the corner of an eye a white-jacketed figure emerge from this passageway +and move hurriedly aft. Something furtive in the round of the fellow's +shoulders challenged his curiosity. He called quietly: + +"Steward!" + +There was no answer. By now the white jacket was no more than a blur moving +in that deep gloom. He cried again, more loudly: + +"I say, steward!" + +He could hardly see, but fancied that the man quickened his steps: in +another instant he vanished altogether. + +Smothering an impulse to give chase, the adventurer swung alertly into the +narrow passage and opened the door to Stateroom 29. The room was dark, but +as he fumbled for the switch, the door in the forward partition was thrust +open and the girl's slight figure showed, tensely poised against the light +behind her. + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" she cried, in a voice sharp with doubt. + +Lanyard turned the switch. "Mademoiselle," he said, and coolly crossed to +the port, drawing the light-proof curtains. + +"This door was locked all day--locked when the firing alarmed me and I went +out to the deck." + +"And on my side, mademoiselle, it was locked and bolted when last I was +here, shortly before dinner." "Whoever unfastened it entered my room during +my absence and tampered with my luggage." + +"You have missed something?" + +Gaze intent to his she nodded. He shrugged and cast shrewdly round his +quarters for some clue to the enigma. His glance fastened on a leather +bellows-bag beneath the berth. Dropping to his knees he pulled this out, +and looked up with a quizzical grimace, his forefinger indicating the lock, +which was uncaught. + +"I left this latched but not locked," he said. "Perhaps I, too, have lost +something." + +Opening the bag out flat, he sat back on his heels, with practised eye +inspecting its neat arrangement of intimate things. + +"Nothing has been taken, mademoiselle," he announced gravely. "But +something--I think--has been generously added. I seem to have an anonymous +admirer on board." + +Bending forward, he rummaged beneath a sheaf of shirts and brought forth +a small jewel-box of grained leather, with a monogram stamped on the +lid--"C.B." + +"The lock is broken," he observed, and handed it up to the woman. "As to +its contents, mademoiselle herself knows best...." + +The woman opened the box. + +"Nothing is missing," she said in a thoughtful voice. + +"I am relieved." Lanyard closed the bag, thrust it back beneath the berth, +and got upon his feet. "But you are quite sure--?" + +"My jewels are all in order," she affirmed, without meeting his gaze. + +"And you miss nothing else?" + +"Nothing." + +Was there an accent of hesitation in this response? + +"Then, I take it, the thief was disappointed." + +Now she glanced quickly at his eyes. "Why do you say that?" + +"If the thief had found what he sought, he would never have presented it +to me, mademoiselle would never again have seen her jewels. Failing in +his object, after breaking that lock, and interrupted by your unexpected +return, he planted the case with me, hoping to have me suspected. I am +fortunately able to prove the best of alibis.... So then," said Lanyard, +smiling, "it would appear that, though we met ten minutes ago for the first +time--and I have yet to know mademoiselle by name--we are allies in a +common cause." + +"My name is Brooke--Cecelia Brooke," she said quietly--"if it matters. But +why 'allies'?" + +"It appears we own a common enemy. Each of us possesses something which +that one desires--you a secret, I a good name. (Duchemin, indeed, I have +always held to be an excellent name.) I shall not hesitate to call on you +if my treasure is again violated. May I venture to hope mademoiselle will +prove as ready to command my services?" + +"Thank you. I fancy, however, there will be no need." + +She moved irresolutely toward the communicating door, paused in its frame, +eyeing him speculatively from under level brows. He detected, or imagined, +a tremor of impulse toward him, as though she faltered on the verge of some +grave confidence. If so, she curbed her tongue in time. Her gaze dropped, +fixed itself abstractedly on the door.... "This must be fastened," she +said, in a tone of complete disinterest. + +"I will speak to the chief steward immediately." + +"Don't trouble." She roused. "It doesn't matter, really, for to-night. I +shall leave what valuables I have in the purser's care and stop on deck +till daybreak." + +He gave a gesture of bewilderment. "You abandon your seclusion--leave your +secret unguarded?" + +"Why not?" She shrugged slightly with a little _moue_ of discontent. "If, +as you assume, I had a secret, it was that for certain reasons I did not +wish my presence on board to become known. But it seems it has become +known: my secret is no more. So I need no longer risk being cut off from +the boats in the event of any accident." + +Momentarily her gravity was dissipated by a smile at once delightful and +provocative. + +"Once more, monsieur--good-night!" + +After some moments Lanyard, with a start, found himself staring blankly at +a blankly incommunicative communicating door. + + + + +IV + +IN DEEP WATERS + + +Following this abrupt introduction to his interesting neighbour, Lanyard +went back to his deck-chair and, bundling himself up against the cold, +settled down to ponder the affair and await developments in a spirit of +chastened resignation. That a denouement would duly unfold he was quite +satisfied; that he himself must willy-nilly play some part therein he was +too well persuaded. + +Not that he wished to meddle. If this Miss Cecelia Brooke (as she named +herself) fostered any sort of intrigue, he wanted nothing so fervently +as to be left altogether out of it. But already he had been dragged in, +without wish or consent of his; whoever coveted her secret--whatever that +was, more precious to her than jewels--harboured designs upon his own as +well. It was his duty henceforth to go warily, overlooking no circumstance, +however trifling and inconsiderable it might appear. The slenderest thread +may lead to the heart of the most intricate maze--and the heart of this was +become Lanyard's immediate goal, for there his enemy lay perdu. + +It was never this man's fault to underrate an enemy, least of all +an unknown; and he entertained wholesome respect for Secret Service +operators--picked men, as a rule, the meanest no mean antagonist. And this +business, he fancied, had all the flavour of Secret Service work--one +of those blind duels, desperate and grim affairs of masked combatants +feinting, thrusting, guarding in the dark, each with the other's sword ever +feeling for his throat, fighting for life itself and making his own rules +as the contest swayed. + +But what was this Brooke girl doing in that galley? What conceivable motive +induced her to dabble those slender hands in the muck and blood of Secret +Service work? + +Lanyard was fain to let that question rest. After all, it was no concern of +his. There she was, up to her pretty eyebrows in some dark, bad business; +and it was not for him to play the gratuitous ass, rush in unasked, and +seek to extricate her.... + +Through endless hours he sat brooding, vision blindly focussed upon the +misty, shimmering mystery of that night. + +Ekstrom!... Slowly in his understanding intuition shaped the conviction +that it was Ekstrom whom he was fighting now, Ekstrom in the guise of one +of his creatures, some agent of the Prussian spy system who had contrived +to smuggle himself aboard this British steamship. + +Out of those nine in the smoking room the previous night, then, he must +beware of one primarily, perhaps of more. + +Four he was disposed, with reservations, to reckon negligible: Baron von +Harden, head of a Netherlands banking house, a silent body whose acute +mental processes went on behind a pallid screen of flabby features; Julius +Becker, a theatrical manager of New York, whose right name ended in ski; +Bartlett Putnam, late charge d'affaires of the American embassy in Madrid; +Edmund O'Reilly, naturalized citizen of the United States, interested in +the manufacture of motor tractors somewhere in Michigan. + +Of the other five, two were English: Lieutenant Thackeray, a civilly +reticent gentleman whose right arm rested in a black silk sling, making +a flying trip to visit a married sister in New York; Archer Bartholomew, +Esq., solicitor, a red-cheeked, bright-eyed, white-haired, brisk little +Cockney, beyond the military age. + +There remained Dressier, the stout, self-satisfied Swiss, whose fawning +manner was possibly accounted for by his statement that he journeyed to +New York to engage in the trade of restaurateur in partnership with his +brother; Crane, long and awkward and homely, of saturnine cast, slow of +gesture and negligent as to dress, his humorous sense clouding a power +of shrewd intelligence; and Senor Arturo Velasco, of Buenos Aires, +middle-aged, apparently extremely well-to-do, a thoughtful type, more +self-contained than most of his countrymen. + +One of these probably ... But which?... + +Nor must he permit himself to forget that the _Assyrian_ carried fifty-nine +other male passengers, in addition to her complement of officers, crew, and +stewards, that any one of these might prove to be Potsdam's cat's-paw. + +Awesome pallor tinged the eastern horizon, gaining strength, spread in +imperceptible yet rapid gradations toward the zenith. Stars faded, winked +out, vanished. Silver and purple in the sea gave place to livid gray. +Almost visibly the routed night rolled back over the western rim of the +world. Shafts of supernal radiance lanced the formless void between sky +and sea. Swollen and angry, the sun lifted up its enormous, ensanguined +portent. And the discountenanced moon withdrew hastily into the +immeasurable fastnessness of a cloudless firmament, yet failed therein to +find complete concealment. Keen, sweet airs of dawn raked the decks, now +to port, now to starboard, as the _Assyrian_ twisted and writhed on her +corkscrew way. + +Passengers whose fears had become sufficiently numb to permit them to +drowse, stirred in their chairs, roused blinking and blear-eyed, arose +and stretched cramped, cold bodies. Others lay listless, enervated by the +sleepless misery of that night. Crane found Lanyard awake and marched him +off for coffee and cigarettes in the smoking room. + +Later, starting out for a turn around the decks, they passed a deck-chair +sheltered in a jog where the engine-room ventilating shaft joined the +forward deck-house, in which Miss Brooke lay cocooned in wraps and furs, +her profile, turned aside from the sea, exquisitely etched against the rich +blackness of a fox stole. She slept as quietly as the most carefree, a +shadowy smile touching her lips. + +Crane's stride faltered. He whistled low. + +"In the name of all things wonderful! how did that get on board?" + +Lanyard mentioned the girl's name. "She has the stateroom next to +mine--came off that tender, night before last." + +"And me sore on that darn' li'l boat because it brought aboard all the +nosey Johnnies! Ain't it the truth, you never know your luck?" + +The American ruminated in silence till another lap of their walk took them +past the girl again. + +"Funny," he mused, "if that's why they held us up...." + +"Comment, monsieur?" + +"Oh, I was just wondering if it was on that young lady's account they kept +us kicking our heels back there so long." + +"I am still stupid," Lanyard confessed. + +"Why, she might be a special messenger, you know--something like that--the +British Government wanted to smuggle out of the country without anybody +suspecting." + +"Monsieur is a romantic." + +"You can't trust me," Crane averred unblushingly. + +When they passed the chair again it was empty. + +At breakfast Lanyard saw the girl from a distance: their places were +separated by the width of the saloon. She had no neighbours at her table, +did not look up when Lanyard entered, finished her meal some time before +he did, and retired immediately to her stateroom, in whose seclusion she +remained for the rest of the day. + +That second day was altogether innocent of untoward incident. At least +superficially the life of the ship settled into the groove of "business +as usual." Only the company of the _Assyrian's_ faithful convoys was an +ever-present reminder of peril. + +And in the middle of the afternoon she passed close by a derelict, a +torpedoed tramp, deep down by the stern, her bows helplessly high in air +and crimson with rust, the melancholy haunt of a great multitude of gulls. + +More than slightly to Lanyard's surprise he received no quiet invitation +to the captain's quarters to be interrogated concerning the burglary in +Stateroom 27. Apparently, the young woman had contented herself with +reporting merely that the communicating door had carelessly been left +unfastened. + +For his own part, neither seeking nor avoiding individual members of the +smoking-room group, Lanyard permitted himself to be drawn into their +company, and sat among them amiably receptive. But this profited him +scantily; there was no further talk of the Lone Wolf; he was not again +aware of that covert surveillance. + +But when--the evening chill driving him below to don a fur-lined +topcoat--the Brooke girl, coming up the companionway, acknowledged his look +of recognition with the most distant of nods, he accepted the apparent +rebuff without resentment. He understood. She was playing the game. The +enemy was watching, listening. After that he was studious to refrain from +seeming either to avoid or to seek her neighbourhood; and if he did keep a +sharp eye on her, it was so circumspectly as to mock detection. To the +best of his observation she found no friends on board, contracted no new +acquaintances, kept herself to herself within walls of inexorable reserve. + +Dawn, ending the second night at sea, found the _Assyrian_ pursuing a +course still devious, and now alone; the destroyers had turned back during +the night. The western boundary of the barred zone lay astern. Ahead, at +the end of a brief interval of time, the ivory towers of New York loomed, +a-shimmer with endless sunlight, glorious in golden promise. Accordingly, +the spirits of the passengers were exalted. The very ship seemed to grin in +self-complacence; she had won safely through. + +Unremitting vigilance was none the less maintained. No hour of the +twenty-four found either gun, forward or aft, wanting a full working crew +on the keen qui vive. The life boats remained on outswung davits; boat +drills for passengers as well as crew were features of the daily programme. +Regulations concerning light and smoking on deck after dark were rigidly +enforced. Fuel was never spared in the effort to widen the blue gulf +between the steamship and those waters wherein she had so nearly met her +end. By day a hunted thing, racing frantically toward a port of refuge in +the West, all her stout fabric labouring with titanic pulsations, shying in +panic from the faintest suspicion of smoke upon the horizon, the _Assyrian_ +slipped into the grateful obscurity of night like a snake into a thicket, +made herself akin to its densest shadows, strained hopelessly not to be +outdistanced by its fugitive mantle. + +And the benison of unseasonably clement weather was hers; day after shining +day, night after placid night, the Atlantic revealed a singularly gracious +humour, mirrored the changeful panorama of the heavens in a surface little +flawed. So that the most squeamish voyagers, as well as those most beset +with fears, slept sweetly in the comfort of their berths. + +Lanyard, however, never went to bed without first securing his door so that +it might be opened by force alone; and never slept without a pistol beneath +his pillow. + +But the truth is, he slept little. For the first time in his history he +learned what it meant to will sleep to come and have his will defied. He +lay for hours staring wide-eyed into darkness, hearkening to the steady +throbbing of the engines, unable to dismiss the thought that their every +revolution brought him so much nearer to America, so much the nearer to +his hour with Ekstrom. In vain he sought to fatigue his senses by +over-indulgence in his weakness for gambling. Day-long sessions at poker +and auction in the smoking room--where he found formidable antagonists, +principally in the persons of Crane, Bartlett Putnam, Velasco, Bartholomew, +Julius Becker and Baron von Harden--served only to forward his financial +fortunes; his luck was phenomenal; he multiplied many times that slender +store of English banknotes with which he had embarked upon this adventure. +But he left each exhausting sitting only to toss upon a wakeful pillow or +to roam uneasily the dark and desolate decks, a man haunted by ghosts of +his own raising, hagridden by passions of his own nurturing.... + +About two o'clock on the third night (the first outside the danger zone, +when every other passenger might reasonably be expected to be in his berth) +Lanyard lay in a deck-chair deep in shadows, wondering if it was worthwhile +to go below and woo sleep in his stateroom. By way of experiment he shut +his eyes. When after a moment he opened them again he was no longer alone. + +Some distance away, at the rail, the woman of Stateroom 27 was standing +with her back to Lanyard, looking intently forward, unquestionably ignorant +of his presence. + +Without moving, he watched in listless incuriosity till he saw her +straighten and stand away from the rail as if bracing herself against some +crisis. + +A man was coming aft from the entrance to the main companionway, impatience +in his stride--a tall man, of good carriage, muffled almost to the heels in +a heavy ulster, a steamer-cap well forward over his eyes. But the light was +poor, the pale shine of the aged moon blending trickily with the swaying +shadows; Lanyard was unable to place him among the passengers. There was +a suggestion of Lieutenant Thackeray--but that one was handicapped by one +shell-shattered arm, whereas this man had the use of both. + +He demonstrated that promptly, taking the girl into them. She yielded +herself gladly, with a hushed little cry, hiding her face in the bosom of +his ulster, clinging to him. + +This, then, was an assignation prearranged! Miss Cecelia Brooke had a lover +aboard the _Assyrian_, a lover whom she denied by day but met in stealth by +night! + +And yet, after that first, swift embrace, their conduct became oddly +unloverlike. The man released her of his own initiative, held her by the +shoulders at arm's length. There was irritation in his manner. He seemed +tempted to shake the young woman. + +"Celia! what madness!" + +So much, at least, Lanyard overheard; the rest was a mumble into the hand +which the girl placed over the man's lips. She cried breathlessly: "Hush! +not so loud!" + +And then she remembered to guard her own voice. In an undertone she spoke +passionately for a moment. The man interrupted in a tone of profound +vexation. She drew away, as if hurt, caught him up as he hesitated for a +word, returned, clung to the lapels of his coat, her accents rapid and +pitiful, eloquent of explanation, entreaty, determination. The man lifted +his hands to her wrists, broke her grasp, cut her brusquely short, put her +forcibly from him. She sobbed softly.... + +Thus swiftly the scene suffered disillusioning transition. The pretty +fiction of lovers meeting in secret was no more. Remained a man annoyed to +the verge of anger, a woman desperately importunate. + +The wind, sweeping aft, carried broken snatches of their communications: + +"... _all I have ... could not let you go_...." + +"_Insanity_!" + +"_I was desperate_...." + +"... _drive me mad with your nonsense_...." + +Lanyard sat up, scraping his chair harshly on the deck. Stricken mute, +the pair at the rail moved only to turn his way the pallid ovals of their +faces. + +Heedless of the prohibition, he struck a vesta, cupped its flame in his +hands, bending his face close and deliberately lighting a cigarette. +Appreciably longer than necessary he permitted the flare to reveal his +features. Then he blew it out, rose, sauntered to the rail, cast the +cigarette into the sea, went aft and so below, satisfied that the girl must +have recognised him and so knew that her secret was safe. + +But it was in an oddly disgruntled humour that he turned in--he who had +been so ready to twit Crane with his fantastic speculations concerning +the English girl, who had himself been the readiest to endue her with the +romantic attributes becoming a heroine of her country's Secret Service! +What if he must now esteem her in the merciless light of to-night's +exposure, as the most pitiable of all human spectacles, a poor lovesick +thing sans dignity, sans pride, sans heed for the world's respect, a woman +pursuing a man weary of her? + +He resented unreasonably the unreasonable resentment which the affair +inspired in him. + +What was it to him? He who had struck off all fettering bonds of common +human interests, who had renounced all common human emotions, who had set +his hand against all mankind that stood between him and that vengeful +purpose to which he had dedicated his life! He, the Lone Wolf, the +heartless, soulless, pitiless beast of prey! + +God in Heaven! what was any woman to him? + + + + +V + +ON THE BANKS + + +Unaccountably enough in his esteem, and more and more to Lanyard's +exasperation, the evil flavour of that overnight incident lasted; it +tinctured distastefully his first waking thoughts; and through all that +fourth day at sea his mood was dark with irrational depression. + +And the fifth day and the sixth were like unto the fourth. + +Constantly he caught himself on watch for the young woman, wondering how +she would comport herself toward him, unwilling witness though he had been +to that shabby scene. + +But, save distantly at meal times, he saw nothing of her. + +And though he knew that she was much on deck after midnight, he was +studious to keep out of her way. The tedium of stopping in a stuffy +stateroom, when the spell of restlessness was on him, waiting for the +sounds of his neighbour's return before he might venture forth, was +nothing; anything were preferable to figuring as the innocent bystander at +another encounter between the Brooke girl and her reluctant lover.... + +Then that happened which lent the business another complexion altogether. +Its second phase, of close development, drew toward an end. Subtle +underlying forces began to stir in their portentous latency. + +The rapiers which thus far had merely touched, shivering lightly against +each other, measuring each its opponent's strength, feeling out his skill, +fell apart, then re-engaged in sharp and deadly play. Steel met steel and, +clashing, struck off sparks whose fugitive glimmerings lightened measurably +the murk.... + +On the sixth night out, at eleven o'clock as a matter of routine, the +smoking room was closed for the night, terminating an uncommonly protracted +and, in Lanyard's esteem, irksome sitting at cards. Well tired, he went +immediately to his quarters, undressed, stretched out in his berth, and +switched off the light. + +Incontinently he found himself bedevilled by thoughts that would not rest. + +For upward of an hour he lay moveless, seeking oblivion in that very effort +to preserve immobility, while the _Assyrian_, lunging heavily on her way, +moaned and muttered tedious accompaniment to the chant of the working +engines. + +Despairing at length, and fretted by the closeness of his quarters, he got +up, dressed sketchily, and was shrugging into his fur-lined coat when he +heard the door to the adjoining stateroom open and close, stealth in the +sound of it. + +At that he hung up his overcoat, and threw himself down with a book on the +lounge seat beneath the port. The novel was dull enough in all conscience; +for that matter no tale within the compass of the cunningest weaver of +words could have enthralled his temper at that time. + +He read and read again page after page, but without intelligence. + +Between his eyes and the type-blackened paper mirages of the past trembled +and wavered; old faces, old scenes, old illusions took unsubstantial form, +dissolved, blended, faded away: a saddening show of shadows. + +His heavy eyelids drooped; slumber's drowsy vestments trailed lazily +athwart the sea of consciousness.... + +A slight noise startled him, either the shutting of the door to Stateroom +27, or the sound of the book dropping from his relaxed grasp. He sat up and +consulted his watch. The hour was half after twelve. + +The ship's bell sounded remotely a single, doleful stroke. + +He might have dozed five minutes or fifteen--long enough at least to leave +its tantalising effect of sleep desperately desirable, mockingly elusive, +almost grasped, whisked beyond grasping. And with this he was aware of +something even less tangible, a sense of something amiss, of something +vaguely wrong, as of an evil spirit stalking furtively through the darkened +labyrinth of the ship ... as impalpable and ineluctable as miasmic +exhalations of a morass.... + +Lanyard passed a hand across his forehead. Had he been dreaming, then? Was +this merely the reaction from some bitter nightmare? He could not remember. + +On sheer impulse he stood up, extinguished the light, opened the door. As +he did this he noted that a light burned in Stateroom 27, visible through +the ventilating grille. So the girl must have returned while he slept. Or +had she neglected to turn the switch when she went out? He could not be +certain. + +On the threshold he paused a little, attentive to the familiar rumour of +the ship by night: the prolonged sloughing of riven waters down the side, +gnashing of swells hurled back by the bows, sibilance of draughts in +alleyways, groaning of frames, a thin metallic rattle of indeterminate +origin, the crunching grind of the steering gear, the everlasting +deep-throated diapason of the engines, somewhere aft in that tier of +staterooms a persistent human snore ... nothing unusual, no alarming +discordance.... + +Yet the feeling that mischief was afoot would not be still. + +Lanyard moved down to the junction of the thwartship passage with the +fore-and-aft alleyway. + +Here he commanded a view of the promenade-deck landing and the main +companionway, all in darkness but for a feeble glimmer of reflected +starlight through the open deck port on the far side of the vessel. Beyond +this the rail was stencilled against the dull face of the sea with its far +lifting and falling horizon; within, no more was visible than the dimmed +whiteness of the forward partition, the dense, indefinite mass of balusters +winding up to the boat-deck, and the flat plane of the tiled landing. + +On this last, near the mouth of the port alleyway, half obscured by the +intervening balusters, something moved, something huge, black, and formless +swayed and writhed strangely, and in the strangest silence, like a dumb, +tormented misshapen brute transfixed to one spot from which its most +anguished efforts might not avail to budge it. + +Lanyard ran forward, rounded the well of the companionway, and pulled up. + +Now the nature of the thing was revealed. Blackly silhouetted against the +square of the doorway two human figures were close-locked and struggling +desperately, straining, resisting, thrusting, giving, recovering ... and +all with never a sound more than the deadened thump of a shifting foot or +the rasp of hard-won breathing. + +For several seconds the spectator could not distinguish one contestant from +the other. Then a change in the fortunes of war enabled him to make out +that one was a woman, the other, and momentarily more successful, a man. +Slender and youthful and strong, she fought with the indomitable fury of +a pantheress. He on his part had won this much temporary advantage--had +broken the woman's clutch upon his throat and was bending her back over +his hip, one hand fumbling at her windpipe, the other imprisoning her two +wrists. + +Yet she was far from being vanquished. Even as Lanyard moved toward the +pair, she drove a savage knee into the man's middle and, as he checked +instantaneously with a grunt of pained surprise, regained her footing and +planted both elbows against his chest, striving frantically to free her +hands. + +Simultaneously Lanyard took the fellow from behind, wound an arm around his +neck, jerked his head sharply back, twisted his forearm till he released +the woman's wrists, and threw him with a force that must have jarred his +every bone. + +The woman staggered back against the partition, panting and sobbing beneath +her breath. The man rebounded from his fall with astonishing agility, and +flew back at Lanyard. An object in his right hand gave off the dull gleam +of polished steel. + +Lanyard, his automatic in his stateroom, in the pocket of the overcoat +where he had deposited it when meaning to go out on deck, lacked any means +of defense other than his two hands; but his one-time fame as an amateur +pugilist had been second only to his fame as a connaisseur d'art; and to +one whose youth had been passed in association with the Apaches of Paris, +some mastery of la savate was an inevitable accomplishment. + +A lightning coup de pied planted a heel against one of the man's shins, +and his onslaught faltered in a gust of curses. Then the point of his jaw +received the full force of Lanyard's right fist with all the ill will +imaginable behind it. The man reared back, reeled into the black mouth of +the alleyway, fell heavily. + +Even so, he demonstrated extraordinary vitality and appetite for +punishment. He had no more gone down than the adventurer, peering into the +gloom, saw him struggle up on his knees. Instantly Lanyard made toward +him, intent on finishing this work so well begun, but in his second stride +tripped over a heavy body hidden in the shadows, and pitched headlong. +Falling, he was conscious of a flashing thing that sped past his cheek, +immediately above his shoulder. There followed an echoing thud against the +forward partition. + +Picking himself up smartly, Lanyard crept several paces down the alleyway, +flattening against the wall, straining his vision, listening intently, +rewarded by neither sign nor sound of his antagonist. + +That one must have been swift to advantage himself of Lanyard's tumble. +If he had not vanished into thin air, or gone to earth in some untenanted +stateroom thereabouts, he found in the close blackness of that narrow +passage a cloak of positive invisibility to cover his escape. + +And there is little wisdom in stalking an armed man whom one cannot see, +with what little light there is at one's own back. + +So Lanyard went back to the landing, stepping carefully over the obstacle +which had both thrown him and saved his life--the supine body of a third +man, motionless; whether dead or merely insensible, he did not stop to +investigate. His immediate concern was for the woman. + +As he came upon her now, she stood en profile to the partition, tugging +strongly at something embedded in the woodwork close by her side, between +her waist and armpit. At the sound of his approach she looked up with a +tremor of apprehension quickly calmed. + +"Monsieur Duchemin! If you please--" + +Lanyard, in no way surprised to recognise the voice of Miss Cecelia Brooke, +stepped closer. "What is it?" he enquired; and then, bending over to look, +found that her cloak was pinned to the partition by the blade of a heavy +knife buried a full half of its considerable length. + +"He threw it as you fell," the girl explained. "I was in the direct line." + +"Permit me, mademoiselle...." + +He laid hold of the haft of the weapon and with some difficulty withdrew +it. + +"Who was it?" he asked, weighing the knife in his palm and examining it as +closely as he could without the aid of light. + +There was no reply. Directly her cloak was freed, the girl had moved +hastily away to the body over which Lanyard had stumbled. He heard an +imploring whisper--"Please!"--and looked up to see her on her knees. + +"Who, then, is this?" he demanded, joining her. + +"Lionel--Lieutenant Thackeray. Please--O please!--tell me he is not dead." + +Her voice broke; he saw her slender body convulsed with racking emotions. +Kneeling, Lanyard made a hasty and superficial examination, necessarily no +more under the conditions. + +"His heart beats," he announced--"he breathes. I do not think him seriously +injured." He made as if to get up. "I will get a light--a flash-lamp from +my stateroom--or, better still, the ship's surgeon--" + +Her hand fell upon his arm. "Please, no! Not that--not now. Later, if +necessary; but now--surely, you can help me carry him to his stateroom." + +"You know the number?" + +"It's close by--30." + +"Find it, and light up. No--leave this to me; I can carry him without +assistance." + +The girl rose and disappeared. Lanyard passed his arms beneath the +Englishman's body, gathered him into them, and struggled to his feet: no +inconsiderable task. + +Light gushed from an open doorway, the third aft from the landing. +Staggering, the adventurer entered and deposited the body upon the berth. +Immediately the girl closed and bolted the door, then passed between him +and the berth to bend over the unconscious man. He lay in deep coma, limbs +a-sprawl, unpleasant glints of white between his half-closed eyelids, his +breathing stertorous through parted lips. Free of its sling, his wounded +arm dangled over the edge of the berth. In putting him down, Lanyard had +remarked that its sleeve had been slit to the shoulder, and that its +bandages were undone. Now, in amazement, he saw the arm was firm and +muscular, with an unbroken skin, never a sign of any injury in all its +length. + +Gently the girl lifted the lieutenant's head to the light, discovering a +hideously bruised swelling at the base of the skull, blood darkly matting +the close-clipped hair. + +She requested without looking round: "Water, please--and a towel." + +Obediently Lanyard ran hot and cold water into the hand-basin in equal +proportions. + +"Would it not be well now to call the ship's surgeon?" he suggested +diffidently. + +"Is that necessary? I am something of a nurse. This is simply a bad +contusion--no worse, I believe. He was struck down from behind, a cowardly +blow in the dark, as he started to go up on deck. I had been waiting for +him. When he didn't come I suspected something was wrong. I came down, +found him lying there, that brute kneeling over him." + +She spoke coolly enough, in contrast with the high excitement that inflamed +her eyes as she turned away from the berth. + +"Monsieur Duchemin, are you armed?" + +"I have this," he said, exhibiting the knife thrown by the would-be +murderer--a simple trench dagger, without distinguishing marks of any sort. + +"Then take this, please." Extracting an automatic pistol from a holster +belted beneath Thackeray's coat, she proffered it. "You won't mind staying +here a moment, standing guard, while I fetch a dressing from my room?" + +Before he could utter a word of protest she had slipped out into the +alleyway, shutting the door behind her. + +When several minutes had passed the adventurer found himself beset by +increasing concern. This long delay seemed not only inconsistent with her +solicitude, but indicated a possibility that the girl had braved unwisely +the chance of a resumption of hostilities on the part of her late and as +yet anonymous assailant. + +Darkening the room as a matter of common-sense precaution, Lanyard, pistol +in hand, stepped out into the alleyway in time to see the girl in the act +of rising from her knees on the landing, near the spot where Thackeray had +fallen. The light of her flash-lamp was blotted out as she came hurriedly +aft. + +Perplexed, he turned back and switched on the light as she entered. + +Her eyes challenged his almost defiantly. + +"Was I long?" she asked, breathless. "I dropped something...." + +Lanyard bowed without speaking. Instinctively he knew that she was lying; +and divining this in his attitude, she coloured and, disconcerted, turned +away. For a moment, while she busied herself arranging on a convenient +chair an assortment of first-aid accessories, he fancied that her +half-averted face wore a look of sullen chagrin, with its compressed lips, +downcast eyes, and faintly gathered brows. + +But directly she needed assistance, and requested it of him in a subdued +and impersonal manner, showing a countenance devoid of any incongruous +emotion. + +Lanyard, lifting the lieutenant's head and heavy torso, helped turn him +face downward on the berth, then stood aside, thoughtfully watching the +girl's deft fingers sop absorbent cotton in an antiseptic wash and apply it +to the injury. + +After a little, he said: "If mademoiselle has no more immediate use for +me--" + +"Thank you, monsieur. You have already done so very much!" + +"Then, if mademoiselle will supply the name of this assassin--" + +"I know it no more than you, monsieur!" She glanced up at him, startled. +"What do you mean to do?" + +"Why, naturally, lodge an information with the captain concerning this +outrage--" + +"Oh, please, no!" + +At a loss, Lanyard shrugged eloquently. + +"Not yet, at all events," she hastened to amend. "Let Lionel judge what is +best to be done when he comes to." + +"But, mademoiselle, who can say when that will be?" He pointed out the +ugly, ragged abrasion in the young Englishman's scalp exposed by the +cleansing away of the clotted blood. "No ordinary blow," he commented; +"something very like a slung-shot or a loaded cane did that work. If I may +venture again to advise--unless mademoiselle is herself a surgeon--" + +Her colour faded and she caught her breath sharply. "You think it as +serious as all that?" + +"I do not know. Such a blow might easily fracture the skull, possibly bring +about a concussion of the brain. Regard, likewise, his laborious breathing. +I most assuredly advise consulting competent authority." + +She did not immediately answer, turning back undivided attention to her +task; but he noticed that her hands were tremulous, however, dextrously +they finished dressing and bandaging the hurt; and deep distress troubled +the handsome eyes she turned to his when she rose. + +"You are right," she murmured--"unquestionably right, monsieur. We must +have the surgeon in...." + +But when Lanyard advanced a hand toward the bell-push, to call the steward, +she interposed in quick alarm: + +"No--if you please, a moment; I must have time to think!" Her slender +fingers writhed together in her agony of doubt and irresolution. "If only I +knew what to do...." + +Lanyard was dumb. There was, indeed, nothing helpful he could offer, who +was without a solitary tangible or trustworthy clue to the nature of this +strange business. + +He owned himself sadly mystified. In the light--or, rather, the shadow--of +this latest development, his revised suspicions seemed unwarranted to the +point of impertinence; unless, of course, one assumed the unknown assailant +to be a rejected lover or wronged husband. And somehow one did not, in +the presence of this clear-eyed, straight-limbed, courageous young +Englishwoman, so wanting in self-consciousness. + +And yet ... what the deuce was she to this man whom, indisputably, she +followed against his wish? + +And what conceivable chain of circumstances linked their fortunes with his, +and that double burglary of the first night out with this murderous assault +of to-night? + +Nor was to-night's work, considered by itself, lacking in questionable +features. + +Why had Thackeray carried that sound arm in a sling? How had its bandages +come to be unwrapped? Not in struggles before being placed hors de combat, +for he had never had a chance to resist. Had his assailant, then, unwrapped +it subsequently? If so, with what end in view? + +Why had this Miss Cecelia Brooke, surprising the thug at his work, joined +battle with him so bravely and so madly without calling for help? + +What hidden motive excused this singular hesitation to summon the surgeon, +this reluctance to inform the officers of the ship? + +What duplicity was that which the girl had paraded concerning her +procrastination when Lanyard had surprised her on her knees out there on +the landing? + +If this were what Lanyard had first inclined to think it, Secret Service +intrigue, surely it was weirdly intricate when an English girl hesitated +to safeguard an Englishman by taking into her confidence the officers of a +British ship, British manned! + +Nevertheless, and however much he might wonder and doubt, Lanyard would +never question her. Never of his own volition would he probe more deeply +into this mystery, take one farther step into the intricacies of its maze. + +So, in silence, he waited, passively courteous, at her further service if +she had need of him, content if she had not, tolerant of her tacit prayer +for time in which to think a way out of her difficulties. + +After some few moments he grew uncomfortably aware that he had become the +object of a speculative regard not at all unfavourable. + +He indulged in a mental gesture of resignation. + +Then what he had feared befell, not altogether as he had apprehended, but +in the girl's own fashion, if without material difference in the upshot. + +"I am afraid," said she in an even voice, so quietly pitched as to be +inaudible to any eavesdropper. "This becomes a task greater than I had +dreamed, more than my wits can cope with. Monsieur Duchemin...." + +She hesitated. He bowed slightly. "If mademoiselle can make any use of my +poor abilities, she has but to command me." + +"We--I have much to thank you for already, monsieur, much more than I can +ever hope to reward adequately--" + +"Reward?" he echoed. "But, mademoiselle--!" + +"Please don't misunderstand." She flushed a little, very prettily. "I am +simply trying to express my sense of obligation, not only for what you have +already done, but for what I mean to ask you to do." + +Again he bowed, without comment, amiably receptive. + +She resumed with perceptible effort: "I can trust you--" + +"You must make sure of that before you do," he warned her, smiling. + +"I am sure," she averred gravely. + +"You know nothing concerning me, mademoiselle--pardon! For all you know +I may be the greatest rogue in Christendom. And I must tell you in all +candour, sometimes I think I am." + +"What I may or may not know concerning you, Monsieur Duchemin, is +immaterial as long as I know you are what you have proved yourself to me, a +gentleman, considerate, generous, brave, and--not inquisitive." + +He was frankly touched. If this were flattery, tone and manner robbed it of +fulsomeness, rendered it subtle beyond the coarser perceptions of the man. +He knew himself for what he was, knew himself unworthy; and that part +of him which was unaffectedly French, whether by accident of birth or +influence of environment, and so impulsive and emotional, reacted in +spontaneous gratitude to this implicit acceptance of him for what he strove +to seem to be. + +"Mademoiselle is gracious beyond my deserts," he protested. "Only let me +know how I may be of use...." + +"In three ways: Continue to be lenient in your judgments, and ask me no +more questions than you must because ... I may not answer...." Her hands +worked together again. She added unhappily, in a faint voice: "I dare not." + +That, too, moved him, since he had been far from lenient in his judgments. +He responded the more readily: "All that is understood, mademoiselle." + +"Please go at once back to your stateroom, and as quietly as possible. +There is a bare chance you were not recognised, that nobody knows who came +to my aid to-night. If you can slip away without attracting attention, so +much the better for us, for all of us. You may not be suspected." + +"Trust me to use my best discretion." + +"Lastly ... take and keep this for me, till I ask you for it again. Hide it +as secretly as you can. It may be sought for, is certain to be if you are +believed to be in my confidence. It must not be found. And I may not want +it again before we land in New York." + +She extended a hand on whose palm rested a small and slender white +cylinder, no longer and little thicker than the toy pencil that dangles +from a dance-card: a tight roll of plain white paper enclosed in a wrapping +of transparent oiled silk, gummed fast down its length and, at either end, +sealed with miniature blobs of black wax. + +"Will you do this for me, Monsieur Duchemin? I warn you, it may cost you +your life." + +He took it, his temper veering to the whimsical. "What is life?" he +questioned. "A prelude--perhaps an overture to that great drama, Death. Who +knows? Who cares?" + +She heard him in a stare. "You place no value on life?" + +"Mademoiselle," he said, "I have lived nearly thirty years in this world, +three years in the theatre of war, seldom far from the trenches of one +front or another. I tell you, I know death too well...." + +He shrugged and put the roll of paper away in a pocket. + +"You understand it must not be taken from you under any circumstance? As a +last resort, it must be destroyed rather than yielded up." + +"It shall be," he said quietly. "Is there anything more?" + +She shook her head, thoughtfully knuckling her underlip. + +"How can I communicate with you in event of necessity after we get to New +York?" she asked. + +"I shall stop for a week or two at the Hotel Knickerbocker." + +"If anything should happen"--with a swift glance of anxiety toward the +motionless figure in the berth--"if anything should prevent my calling for +it within a week after our arrival, you will be good enough to deliver it +to--" She caught herself up quickly, the unuttered words trembling on her +lip. "I will write down the address of the person to whom you will deliver +it, and slip it underneath the door between our rooms--first making +certain you are there to receive it--if I do not ask you to return +the--thing--before we land." + +"That shall be as you will." + +"When you have memorized the address you will destroy it?" + +"Depend on that." + +"I think that is all. Thank you, Monsieur Duchemin--and good-night." + +She extended her hand. He saluted it punctiliously with fingertips and +lips. + +"If you will put out the light, mademoiselle, it may aid me to get away +unseen." + +She nodded and offered him Thackeray's pistol. "Take this. O, I have +another with me." + +Lanyard accepted the weapon and, when she had darkened the room, opened the +door, slipped out, and closed it behind him so noiselessly that the girl +could not believe he was gone. + +Nothing hindered his return to Stateroom 29. + +Fully two minutes after he had locked himself in he heard the distant +clamour of the annunciator, calling a steward to Stateroom 30. + + + + +VI + +UNDER SUSPICION + + +He sat for a long time on the edge of his berth, elbow on knee, chin in +hand, unstirring, gaze fixed upon that little cylinder of white paper +resting in the hollow of his palm, in profoundest concentration pondering +the problems it presented: what it was, what possession of it meant to +Michael Lanyard, what safe disposition to make of it pending welcome relief +from this unsought and most unwelcome trust. + +This last question alone bade fair to confound his utmost ingenuity. + +As for what it was, Lanyard was well satisfied that he now held the true +focus of this conspiracy, a secret of the first consequence, far too +momentous to the designs of England to be entrusted, though couched in the +most cryptic cipher ever mind of man devised, even to cables or mails which +England herself controlled. + +Solely to prevent this communication from reaching America, Lanyard +believed, Germany had sown mines broadcast in all the waters which the +_Assyrian_ must cross, and had commissioned her U-boats, without fail and +at whatever cost, to sink the vessel if by any accident she won safely +through the mine-fields. + +In the effort to steal this secret, German spies had sailed on the +_Assyrian_ knowing well the double risk they ran, of being shot like rats +if found out, of being drowned like neutrals if the ship went down through +the efforts of their compatriots. + +It was the zeal of Potsdam's agents, seeking the bearer of this secret, +which had caused the rifling of Miss Brooke's luggage when she fell under +suspicion, thanks to her clandestine way of coming aboard; and through the +same agency young Thackeray had been all but murdered when suspicion, for +whatever reason, shifted to him. + +To insure safe transmission of this communication, England had held the +_Assyrian_ idle in port, day after day, while her augmented patrols scoured +the seas, hunting down ruthlessly every submarine whose periscope dared +peer above the surface, and while her trawlers innumerable swept the +channels clear of mines. + +To prevent its theft, Lieutenant Thackeray had invented the subterfuge of +the "wounded" arm, amid whose splints and bandages (Lanyard never doubted) +the cylinder had been secreted. + +Finally, it was as a special agent, deep in her country's confidence, that +this English girl had smuggled herself aboard at the last moment, bringing, +no doubt, this very cylinder to be transferred to the keeping of Lieutenant +Thackeray or, perhaps, another confrere, should she find reason to think +herself suspected, her trust endangered. + +Nothing strange in that; women had served their countries in such +capacities before; the secret archives of European chancellories are +replete with their records. Lanyard himself remembered many such women, +brilliant mondaines from many lands domiciled in that Paris of the so-dead +yesterday to serve by stealth their respective governments; but never, it +was true, a woman of the caste of Cecelia Brooke; unless, indeed, this were +an actress of surpassing talent, gifted to hoodwink the most skeptical and +least susceptible of men. + +And yet.... + +Lanyard's train of thought faltered. New doubt of the girl began to shadow +his meditations. Contradictory circumstances he had noted intruded, +uninvited, to challenge overcredulous conclusions concerning her. + +Would any secret agent worth her salt invite suspicion by making such a +conspicuously furtive embarkation, by such ostentatious avoidance of her +fellow passengers, by surrounding herself with an atmosphere of such +palpable mystery? Would such an one confess she had a "secret" to an utter +stranger, as she had to Lanyard that first night out? Would she, under any +conceivable circumstances, entrust to that same stranger that selfsame +secret upon whose inviolate preservation so much depended? + +And would she make love-trysts on the decks by night? + +Would a brother-agent take her in his arms, then reprove her with every +symptom of vexation for her "madness," her "insanity," her "nonsense" that +was like to "drive me mad"?--Thackeray's own words! + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits for some plausible reading of this +riddle. + +Was this Brooke girl possibly (of a sudden he sat bolt upright) a Prussian +agent infatuated with this young Englishman and by him beloved in spite of +all that forbade their passion? + +Did not this explanation reconcile every apparent inconsistency in her +conduct, even to the entrusting to a stranger of the stolen secret, the +purloined paper she dared not keep about her lest it be found in her +possession? + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. Visibly his features hardened. If this surmise of +his were any way justified in the outcome, he promised Miss Cecelia Brooke +an hour of most painful penitence. + +Woman or not, she need not look for mercy from him, who must ever be +merciless in his dealings with Ekstrom's crew. + +To be made that one's tool! + +The very thought was intolerable.... + +As for himself, possession of this paper meant that pitfalls were digged +for his every step. + +If ever the British found cause to suspect him, his certain portion would +be to face a firing squad in dusk of early day. + +If, on the other hand, these Prussian agents on board the _Assyrian_ ever +got wind of the fact that the cylinder was in his care, his fate was apt to +be a knife between his ribs the first time he was caught alone and--with +his back to the assassin. + +Two courses, then, were open to him: the most sensible and obvious, to go +straightway to the captain of the _Assyrian_, report all that he knew or +surmised, and turn over the paper for safekeeping; one alternative, to hide +the cylinder so absolutely that the most drastic search would overlook it, +yet so handily that he could rid himself of it at an instant's notice. + +But the first course involved denunciation of the Brooke girl. And what +if she were innocent? What if, after all, these doubts of her were the +specious spawn of facts misinterpreted, misconstrued? What if she proved to +be all she seemed? Could he, even though what he had warned her he might +be, the greatest rogue unhung, be false to a trust reposed in him by such a +woman? + +As to that, there was no question in his mind; he would never betray her, +lacking irrefutable conviction that she was an employee of the Prussian spy +system. + +Then how to hide the paper? + +Kneeling, Lanyard drew from beneath the berth his bellows-bag, selected +from its contents a black japanned tin case containing a rather elaborate +though compact trench medicine kit, the idle purchase of an empty afternoon +in London. Extracting from its fittings a small leather-covered case, he +replaced the kit, relocked and shoved the bag back beneath the berth. + +Then, standing over the hand-basin, he opened the leather-covered case. Its +velvet-lined compartments held a hypodermic syringe and needle, and a glass +phial of twenty-four one-thirtieth grain morphia tablets. + +Uncorking the phial, he shook out all the tablets, replaced three, then +slid the paper cylinder into the tube; it fitted precisely, concealed by +the label of the manufacturing chemist, leaving room for six more tablets. +Lanyard inserted four on top of the cylinder, moistening the lowermost +slightly to make it stick, recorked the phial, and returned it to its +compartment. + +Next he dissolved three morphia tablets in a little water in the bottom of +a glass, filled the syringe with the strong solution, fitted on the needle, +squirted most of the contents down the waste-pipe, and consigned the +remaining tablets to the same innocuous fate. + +Finally he replaced needle and syringe in the case, let the glass which had +held the solution stand without rinsing, and put the open case upon the +shelf above the basin. + +A light tapping sounded on the panels of his door. + +"Well? Who's there?" + +"Your steward, sir. Captain Osborne's compliments, an' 'e'd like to see you +in 'is room as soon as convenient, sir." + +"You may say I will come at once." + +"'Nk you, sir." + +A summons to have been expected as a sequel to the surgeon's report after +attending Lieutenant Thackeray; none the less, Lanyard had not expected it +so soon. + +Authority, he reflected, ran true to form afloat as well as ashore; it was +prompt enough when required to apply a pound or so of cure. Surely the +officers, at least the captain, must have been advised why this voyage +was apt to prove exceptionally hazardous; and surely in the light of such +information it had been wiser to set armed watches on every deck by night, +rather than permit the lives of passengers to be imperilled through the +possible activities of Prussian agents among them incogniti. + +And now that he was reminded of it, was not this, perhaps, but a device of +the enemy's to decoy him from the comparative safety of his stateroom? + +It was with a hand in his jacket pocket, grasping Thackeray's automatic, +that he presently left the room. The alleyway, however, was deserted except +for his steward; who, as he appeared, turned and led the way up to the +boat-deck. + +Rounding the foot of the companionway, Lanyard contrived a hasty glance +down the port alleyway. The door to Stateroom 30 was on the hook; a light +burned within. Outside a guard was stationed, a sailor with a cutlass: the +first application of the pound of cure! + +At the heels of his guide, he approached a door in the deck-house, devoted +to officers' accommodations, beneath the bridge. Here the steward knocked +discreetly. A heavy voice grumbling within was stilled for a moment, then +barked a sharp invitation to enter. The steward turned the knob, announced +dispassionately "Monseer Duchemin," and stood aside. Lanyard entered a +well-lighted room, simply but comfortably furnished as the captain's office +and sitting room; sleeping quarters adjoined, the head of a berth with a +battered pillow showing through a door a foot or so ajar. + +Four persons were present; the notion entered Lanyard's head that a fifth +possibly lurked in the room beyond, spying, eavesdropping: not a bad scheme +if Thackeray had an associate on board whose identity it was desirable to +keep under cover. + +The door closed gently behind him as he stood politely bowing, conscious +that the four faces turned his way were distinguished by a singular variety +of expression. + +Miss Cecelia Brooke was nearest him, beside a chair from which she had +evidently just risen, her pretty young face rather pale and set, a scared +look in her candid eyes. + +Beyond her, the captain sat with his back to a desk: a broad-beamed, +vigorous body, intensely masculine, choleric by habit, and just now in an +extraordinarily grim temper, his iron-gray hair bristling from his +pillow, and his stout person visibly suffering the discomfort of wearing +night-clothes beneath his uniform coat and trousers. Bending upon Lanyard +the steel-hard regard of small, steel-blue eyes, he drummed the arms of his +chair with thick and stubby fingers. + +To one side, standing, was the third officer, a Mr. Sherry, a youngish man +with a pleasant cast of countenance which temporarily wore a look, rarely +British, of ingrained sense of duty at odds with much embarrassment. + +Lastly Mr. Crane's lanky person was draped, with its customary effect of +carelessness, on one end of the lounge seat. He looked up, nodded shortly +but cheerfully to Lanyard, then resumed a somewhat quizzical contemplation +of the half-smoked cigar which etiquette obliged him to neglect in the +presence of a lady. + +"This is the gentleman?" Captain Osborne queried heavily of the girl. +Receiving a murmured affirmative, he continued: "Good morning, Monsieur +Duchemin.... Thanks, Miss Brooke; we won't keep you up any longer +to-night." + +He rose, bowed stiffly as Mr. Sherry opened the door for the girl, and when +she was gone threw himself back into his chair with a force which made it +enter a violent protest. + +"Sit down, sir. Daresay you know what we want of you." + +"It is not difficult to guess," Lanyard admitted. "A sad business, +monsieur." + +"Sad!" the captain iterated in a tone of harsh sarcasm. "That's a mild name +to give murder." + +Even had it not been blurted violently at him, that word was staggering. +The adventurer echoed it blankly. "You can't mean Lieutenant Thackeray--?" + +"Not yet, though doctor says it may come to that; the poor chap's in a bad +way--concussion." + +"So one feared. But monsieur said 'murder'...." + +Captain Osborne sat forward, steely gaze mercilessly boring into Lanyard's +eyes. "Monsieur Duchemin," he said slowly, "Lieutenant Thackeray was not +the only passenger to suffer through to-night's villainy. The other died +instantly." + +"In God's name, monsieur--who?" + +"Bartholomew." + +"Mr. Bartholomew!" A memory of that brisk little body's ruddy, cheerful, +British personality flashed athwart the screen of memory. Lanyard murmured: +"Incredible!" + +"Murdered," the captain proceeded, "in Stateroom 28. Lieutenant Thackeray +and he were friends, shared the suite. Apparently Mr. Bartholomew heard +some unusual noise in 30 and left his berth to investigate. He was struck +down from behind as he approached the communicating door. The murderer had +got in by way of the sitting room, 26." + +Mr. Sherry added in an awed voice: "Frightful blow--skull crushed like an +eggshell." + +There was a pause. Crane thoughtfully relighted his cigar, and wrapped his +right cheek round it. The captain glared glassily at Lanyard. Mr. Sherry +looked, if possible, more uncomfortable than ever. Lanyard pondered, +aghast. + +Ekstrom's work, of a certainty! This was his way, the way he imposed upon +his creatures. Ekstrom, ever a killer, obsessed by the fallacious notion +that dead men tell no tales.... + +And Bartholomew had been in this mess with Thackeray, both of them +operatives of the British Secret Service! + +"Miss Brooke has given her version of the attack on Lieutenant Thackeray," +the captain pursued. "Be good enough to let us have yours." + +Succinctly Lanyard recounted the happenings between the moment when +premonition of evil drew him from his stateroom and the moment when he +returned thereto. + +He was at pains, however, to omit all mention of the cylinder of paper; +that, pending definite knowledge to the contrary, was a sacred trust, a +matter of his honour, solely the affair of the Brooke girl. + +The captain squared himself toward Lanyard, his face louring, his jaw +pugnacious. + +"How did you happen to be up and dressed at that late hour, so ready to +respond to this--ah--premonition of yours?" + +"I sleep not well, monsieur. It was my intention to go on deck and +endeavour to walk off my insomnia." + +Captain Osborne commented with a snort. + +"Why did you leave Miss Brooke alone before she called the doctor?" + +"At mademoiselle's request, naturally." + +"You'd been deuced gallant up to that time. I presume it didn't occur to +you that the young woman might need further protection?" + +Lanyard shrugged. "It did not occur to me to refuse her request, monsieur." + +"Didn't it strike you as odd she should wish to be left alone with +Lieutenant Thackeray?" + +"It was not my affair, monsieur. It was her wish." + +"Excuse me, cap'n." Crane sat up. "I'd like to ask Mr. Lanyard a question." + +But Lanyard had prepared himself against that, and acknowledged the touch +with a quiet smile and the hint of a bow. + +"Monsieur Crane...." + +"U.S. Secret Service," Crane informed him with a grin. "Velasco spotted +you--had seen you years ago in Paruss--tipped me off." + +"So one inferred. And these gentlemen?" Lanyard indicated the captain and +third officer. + +"I wised them up--had to, when this happened." + +"Naturally, monsieur. Proceed...." + +"I only wanted to ask if you noticed anything to make you think perhaps +there was an understanding between Miss Brooke and the lieutenant?" + +"Why should I?" + +"I ain't curious why you should. What I want to know is, did you?" + +"No, monsieur," Lanyard lied blandly. + +"The little lady didn't seem to take on more'n she naturally would if the +lieutenant'd been a stranger, eh?" "How to judge, when one has never seen +mademoiselle distressed on behalf of another?" + +Crane abandoned his effort, resuming contemplation of his cigar. + +"Now we come to the point. Monsieur Lanyard, or whatever your name is." + +"I have found Duchemin very agreeable, monsieur le capitaine." + +"I daresay," Captain Osborne sneered. He hesitated, glowering in the +difficulty of thinking. "See here, Monsieur Duchemin--since you prefer that +style--I'm not going to beat about the bush with you. I'm a plain man, +plain-spoken. They tell me you reformed. I don't know anything about that. +It's my conviction, once a thief, always a thief. I may be wrong." + +"Right or wrong, monsieur might easily be less offensive." + +The captain's dark countenance became still more darkly congested. +Implacable prejudice glinted in his small eyes. Nor was his temper softened +by the effrontery of this offender in giving back look for look with a calm +poise that overshadowed his arrogance of an honest, law-abiding man. + +He made a vague gesture of impatience. + +"The point is," he said, "this crime was accompanied by robbery." + +"Am I to understand I am accused?" + +"Nobody is accused," Crane cut in hastily. + +"You have found no clues--?" + +"Nary clue." + +"What I want to say to you, Monsieur Duchemin, is this: the stolen property +has got to be recovered before this ship makes her dock in New York. +It means the loss of my command if it isn't. It means more than that, +according to my information; it means a disastrous calamity to the Allied +cause. And you're a Frenchman, Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"And a thief. Monsieur le capitaine must not forget his pet conviction." + +"As to that, a man can't always be particular about the tools he employs. I +believe the old saying, set a thief to catch a thief, holds good." + +"Do I understand," Lanyard suggested sweetly, "you are about to honour me +by utilizing my reputed talents, by commissioning a thief to catch this +thief of to-night?" + +"Precisely. You know more of this matter than any of us here. You were at +hand-grips with the murderer--and let him get away." + +"To my deep regret. But I have told you how that happened." + +"Seems a bit strange you made no real effort to find out what the scoundrel +looked like." + +"It was dark in that alleyway, monsieur." + +The captain made an inarticulate noise, apparently meant to convey an +effect of ironic incredulity. More intelligible comment was interrupted by +a ring of the telephone. He swung around, clapped receiver to ear, snapped +an impatient "Well?" and listened with evident exasperation. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. This business of telephoning was conceivably +well-timed; not improbably the captain was receiving the report of somebody +who had been sent to search Stateroom 29 in Lanyard's absence. He wondered +and, wondering, glanced at Crane, to find that gentleman watching him with +a whimsical glimmer which he was quick to extinguish when the captain said +curtly, "Very good, Mr. Warde," and turned back from the telephone, his +manner more than ever truculent. + +"Mr. Lanyard," he said--"Monsieur Duchemin, that is--a valuable paper has +been stolen, an exceedingly valuable document. I don't know which carried +it, Lieutenant Thackeray or Mr. Bartholomew. But I do know such a paper was +in their possession. And to the best of my knowledge, we three were the +only ones on board that did know it. And it has disappeared. Now, sir, you +may or may not be deeper in this affair than you have admitted. If you are, +I'd advise you to own up." + +"Monsieur le capitaine implies my complicity in this dastardly crime!" + +Osborne shook his head doggedly. "I imply nothing. I only say this: if you +know anything you haven't told us, my advice is to make a clean breast of +it." + +"I have nothing to tell you, monsieur, beyond the fact that I find you, +your tone, your manner, and your choice of words, intolerably insolent." + +"Then you know nothing--?" + +"Monsieur!" Lanyard cried sharply. + +"Very good," the captain persisted. "I'll take your word for it--and give +you till we take on our pilot to find the real criminal and make him give +up that paper." + +"And if I fail?" + +"Not a soul on board leaves the _Assyrian_ till the murderer and thief are +found--if they are not one." + +"But that is a general threat; whereas monsieur has honoured me by +making this a personal matter. What punishment have you prepared for +me specifically, if I fail to accomplish this task which baffles +your--shrewdness?" + +"I'll at least inform the port authorities in New York, tell them who you +are, and have you barred out of the country." + +"I want to say, Lanyard," Crane interposed, "this isn't my notion of how to +deal with you, or in any way by my advice." + +"Thank you, monsieur," the adventurer replied icily, without removing his +attention from the captain. "What else, Captain Osborne?" + +"That is all I have to say to you to-night, sir. Good-night." + +"But I have something more to say to you, monsieur le capitaine. First, I +desire to give over to you this article which it will doubtless please you +to consider stolen property." Lanyard placed the automatic pistol on the +desk. "One of Lieutenant Thackeray's," he explained; "at Miss Brooke's +suggestion, I borrowed it as a life-preserver, in event of another brush +with this homicidal maniac." + +"She told us about that," Osborne said heavily, fumbling with the weapon. +"What else, sir?" + +"Only this, monsieur le capitaine: I shall use my best endeavour to uncover +the author of these crimes. If I succeed, be sure I shall denounce him. If +I succeed only in securing this valuable paper you speak of, be equally +sure you will never see it; for it shall leave my hands only to pass into +those which I consider entirely trustworthy." + +"The devil!" Captain Osborne leaped from his chair quaking with fury. "You +dare accuse me of disloyalty--!" + +"Now you mention it...." Lanyard cocked his head to one side with a +maddening effect of deliberation. "No," he concluded--"no; I wouldn't +accuse you of intentional treason, monsieur; for that would involve an +imputation of intelligence...." + +He opened the door and nodded pleasantly to Crane and the third officer. + +"Good-night, gentlemen," he said silkily. "Oh, and you, too, Captain +Osborne--good-night, I'm sure." + + + + +VII + +IN STATEROOM 29 + + +In spite of his own anger, something far from being either assumed or +inconsiderable, Lanyard was fain to pause, a few paces from the deck-house, +and laugh quietly at a vast and incoherent booming which was resounding in +the room he had just quitted--Captain Osborne trying to do justice to +the emotions inspired in his virtuous bosom by the cheek of this damned +gaol-bird. + +But suddenly, reminded of the grim reason for all this wretched brawling, +Lanyard shrugged off his amusement. Beneath his very feet, almost a man +lay dead, another perhaps dying, while the beast who had wrought that +devilishness remained at large. + +He comprehended in a wondering regard that wide, star-blazoned arch of +skies, that broad, dark, restful mystery of waters, that still, sweet world +of peace through which the _Assyrian_ forged, muttering contentedly at her +toil ... while Murder with foul hands and slavering chops skulked somewhere +in the darkened fabric of her, somewhere beyond that black mouth of the +deck-port yawning at Lanyard's elbow. + +From that same portal a man came abruptly but quietly, saw Lanyard standing +there, gave him a staring look and grudging nod, and strode forward to the +captain's quarters: Mr. Warde, the first officer. + +Lanyard recollected himself, and went below. + +Still the sailor guarded the door in that port alleyway; but now it stood +wide, and Cecelia Brooke was on its threshold, conversing guardedly with +the surgeon. Even as Lanyard caught sight of them, the latter bowed and +turned aft, while the girl retreated and refastened the door on its hook. + +Thus reminded of Crane's shrewd questions, Lanyard was speculating rather +foggily concerning the reason therefor as he turned down the passage to +his own quarters. What had the American noticed, or been told, to make him +surmise covert sympathy between the girl and the lieutenant? + +He caught himself yawning. Drowsiness buzzed in his brain. He had an +incoherent feeling that he would now sleep long and heavily. Entering his +stateroom, he put a shoulder against the door, pushing it to as he fumbled +for the switch. The circumstance that the lights were no longer burning as +he had left them failed to impress him as noteworthy in view of his belief +that, by the captain's orders, Mr. Warde had been ransacking his effects in +his absence. + +But when no more than a click responded to a turn of the switch, the room +remaining quite dark, Lanyard uttered an imprecation, abruptly very wide +awake indeed. + +Before he could move he stiffened to positive immobility: the cool, hard +nose of a pistol had come into contact with his skull, just behind the ear. + +Simultaneously a softly-modulated voice advised him in purest German: "Be +quite still, Herr Lanyard, and hold up your hands--so! Also, see that you +utter no sound till I give you leave.... Karl, the handkerchief." + +Lanyard stood motionless, hands well elevated, while a heavy silk blindfold +was whipped over his eyes and knotted tight at the back of his head. + +"Now your paws, Herr Lone Wolf--put them together behind your back, +prudently making no attempt to reach a pocket." + +Obediently Lanyard permitted his wrists to be caught together with a second +silk handkerchief. He could feel a slight sensation of heat upon his hands, +and guessed that this was caused by the light of a flash-lamp held close +to the flesh. None the less he took the chance of clenching his fists and +tensing the muscles of his wrists. + +"Tightly, Karl." + +The bonds were made painfully fast. Still it did not seem to occur to his +captors to oblige their prisoner to open his hands and relax his wrists. +Lanyard perceived a glimmer of hope in this oversight: the enemy was +normally stupid. + +"Now the lights again." + +After a little wait, during which he could hear the bulbs being pressed +back into their sockets, the switch clicked once more. + +"And now, swine-dog!"--the pistol tapped his skull significantly--"if you +value your life, speak, and speak quickly. Where is that document?" + +"Document?" Lanyard repeated in a tone of wonder. + +"Unless you are eager to explore the hereafter, tell us where we may find +it without delay." + +"Upon my word, I don't know what you're talking about." + +"You lie!" the German snapped. "Face about!" + +Somebody grasped his shoulders roughly and swung him round to the light, +the nose of the pistol shifting to press against his abdomen. + +"Search him, Karl." + +Unseen hands investigated his pockets cunningly. As they finished, the man +who answered to the name of Karl became articulate for the first time, +following a grunt of disappointment: + +"Nothing--he has it not upon him." + +"Look more thoroughly. Did you think him idiot enough to carry it where +you'd find it at the first dip? Imbecile!" + +For the purpose of this second search Lanyard's garments were ripped +open, and the enemy made sure that he carried nothing next his skin more +incriminating than a money-belt, which was forcibly removed. + +"His shoes--see to his shoes!" the first speaker insisted irritably. "Sit +down, Lanyard!" + +A petulant push sent the adventurer reeling across the cabin to fall upon +the lounge seat beneath the port. With some effort he assumed a sitting +position, while Karl, kneeling, hastily unlaced and tore off his shoes and +socks. + +"Nothing, captain," was the report. + +"Damnation!... Continue to search his luggage. Leave nothing unexamined. +In particular look into every hole and corner where none but a fool would +attempt to hide anything. This fine gentleman imagines we value his +intelligence too highly to believe he would leave the paper in plain +sight." + +To an accompaniment of sounds indicating that Karl was obeying his +superior, this last resumed in a tone of lofty contempt: + +"How is it you have abandoned the habit of going armed, Herr Lone Wolf? +That is not like you. Is it that you grow unwary through drug-using? But +that matters nothing. We have more important business to speak over, you +and I. You will be very, very docile, and answer promptly, also in a low +voice, if you would avoid getting hurt. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," Lanyard replied, furtively working at the bonds on his wrists. + +"Good. We speak together like good friends, yes?" + +"Naturally," said Lanyard. "It is so conducive to chumminess to be caressed +with an automatic pistol--you've no idea!" + +"Oblige by speaking German. Our ears are sick with all this bastard +English. Also, more quietly speak. Do not put me to the regrettable +necessity of shooting you." + +"How regrettable? You didn't stick at braining those others--" + +"Hardly the same thing. You are not like those English swine. You are +French; and Germany has no hatred for France, but only pity that it so +fatuously opposes manifest destiny. In truth, you are not even French, but +a great thief; and criminals have no patriotism, nor loyalty to any State +but their own, the state of moral turpitude." + +The speaker interrupted himself to relish his wit with a thick chuckle. And +Lanyard's jaws ached with the strain of self-control. He continued to pluck +at the folds of silk while concentrating in effort to memorise the voice, +which he failed utterly to place. Undoubtedly this animal was a shipboard +acquaintance, one who knew him well; but those detestable German gutturals +disguised his accents quite beyond identification. + +"For all that, you are not wise so to try my patience. I permit you five +minutes by my watch in which to make up your mind to surrender that +document." + +"How often must I tell you," Lanyard enquired, "all this talk of documents +is Greek to me?" + +"Then you have five minutes to brush up your classical education, and +translate into terms suited to your intelligence. I will have that document +from you or--in four more minutes--shoot you dead." + +To this Lanyard said nothing. But his patient attentions to the +handkerchief round his wrists were beginning perceptibly to be rewarded. + +"Moreover, Herr Lanyard, you will do yourself a very good turn by +confessing--entirely aside from saving your life." + +"How is that?" + +"Providing you persuade me of your good faith, I am empowered to offer you +employment in our service." + +Lanyard's breath passed hardly through a throat swollen with rage, chagrin, +and hatred, all hopelessly impotent. But he succeeded in preserving an +unruffled countenance, as his captor's next words demonstrated. + +"You are surprised, yes? You are thinking it over? Take your time--you have +three minutes more. Or perhaps you are sulky, resenting that our cleverness +has found you out? Be reasonable, my good man. Think: you cannot be +insensible to the honour my offer does you." + +"What do you want of me?" + +"First, that paper--thereafter to use your surpassing talents to the glory +of God and Fatherland. In addition, you will be greatly rewarded." + +"Now you do begin to interest me," Lanyard said coolly.... Surely he could +contrive some way to slay this beast with his naked hands! He must play for +time.... "How rewarded?" + +"As I say, with a place in the Prussian Secret Service, its protection, +freedom to ply your trade unhindered in America, even countenanced, till +that country becomes a German province under German laws." + +"But do I hear you offer this to a Frenchman?" + +"Undeceive yourself. Men of all nations to-day, recognising that the star +of Germany is in the ascendant, that soon all nations will be German, +are hastening to make their peace beforehand by rendering Germany good +service." + +"Something in that, perhaps," Lanyard admitted thoughtfully. + +"Think well, my friend.... Yes, Karl?" + +The voice of the other spy responded sullenly: "Nothing--absolutely +nothing." + +"Two minutes, Herr Lanyard." + +Of a sudden Lanyard's face was violently distorted in a grimace of terror. +He lurched his shoulders forward, openly struggling with his bonds. + +"But--good God!" he protested in a voice of terror, "you can't possibly be +so unreasonable! I tell you, I haven't got your damned paper!" + +A loop of the handkerchief slipped over one hand. + +"Be still! Cease your struggles. And not so loud, my friend!" The +peremptory voice dropped into mockery as Lanyard, pale and exhausted, sat +back trembling--and a second loop of silk dropped over the other hand. "So +you begin to appreciate that we mean business, yes? One minute and thirty +seconds!" + +"Have mercy!" the adventurer whined desperately--and licked his lips as if +he found them dry with fear. Now both hands were all but wholly free. True: +he remained blindfolded and covered by a deadly weapon. "Give me a chance. +I'll do anything you wish! But I can't give you what I haven't got." + +"Be silent! Here, Karl." + +There was a sound of unintelligible murmuring as the two spies conferred +together. Lanyard writhed in apparent extremity of terror. His hands were +free. He sought hopelessly for inspiration. What to do without arms? + +"Be grateful to Karl. He urges that perhaps you know nothing of the +document." + +"Don't you think I'd tell if I did know?" + +"Then you have one minute--no, forty seconds--in which to pledge yourself +to the Prussian Secret Service." + +"You want me to swear--?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then hear me," said Lanyard earnestly: "_You damned canaille_!" And in +one movement he tore the bandage from his eyes and launched himself head +foremost at the man who stood over him. + +He caught part of an oath drowned out by the splitting report of a pistol +that went off within an inch of his ear. Then his head took the man full +in the belly, and both went sprawling to the deck, Lanyard fighting like a +maniac. + +Sheer luck had guided clawing fingers to the right wrist of his antagonist, +round which they shut like jaws of a trap. At the same time he wrenched the +other's arm high above his head. + +Momentarily expecting the shock of a bullet from the pistol of the second +spy, he found time to wonder that it was so long deferred, and even in +the fury of his struggles, out of the corner of one eye caught a fugitive +glimpse of a tallish man, masked, standing back to the forward partition in +a pose of singular indecision, pistol poised in his grasp. + +Then the efforts of his immediate adversary threw him into a position in +which he was unable to see the other. + +Of a sudden the stateroom was filled with the thunder of an automatic, its +seven cartridges discharged in one brisk, rippling crash. + +It was as if a white-hot iron had been laid across Lanyard's shoulder. +Beneath him the man started convulsively, with such force as almost to +throw him off bodily, then relaxed altogether and lay limp and still, +pinning one of Lanyard's arms under him. + +Its visor displaced, the face of Baron von Harden was revealed, features +distorted, eyes glaring, a frozen mask of hate and terror. + +His arm free, the adventurer rolled away from the corpse in time to see the +open window-port blocked by the body of the other spy. + +Gathering himself together, he snatched up the pistol that dropped from the +inert grasp of the dead man, and levelled it at the port. + +But now that space was empty. + +He rose and paused for an instant, his glance instinctively seeking the +ledge above the hand-basin. + +The hypodermic outfit was there, but minus the phial. + +In the alleyway rose a confusion of running feet and shouting tongues. +A heavy banging rang on the door to Stateroom 29. Crane's nasal accents +called upon Lanyard to open. + + + + +VIII + +OFF NANTUCKET + + +Upon the authors of that commotion Lanyard wasted no consideration +whatever. Let them knock and clamour; he had more urgent work in hand, and +knew too well the penalty were he stupid enough to unbolt to them. Their +bodies would dam the doorway hopelessly; insistent hands would hinder him; +innumerable importunate enquiries would be dinned at him, all immaterial +in contrast with this emergency, a catechism one would need an hour to +satisfy. And all attempts would be futile to make them understand that, +while they plagued him with futile questions, a murderer and spy and thief +was making good his escape, being afforded ample opportunity to slough all +traces of his recent work and resume unchallenged his place among them. + +No; if by any freak of good fortune, any exertion of wit or daring, that +one were to be apprehended, it must be within the next few minutes, it +could only be through immediate pursuit. + +Nor did the adventurer waste time debating the better course. With him, +whose ways of life were ceaselessly beset by instant and mortal perils, +each with its especial and imperative demand upon his readiness and +ingenuity, action must ever press so hard upon the heels of thought as to +make the two seem one. + +For that matter, the whole transaction had been characterised by almost +unbelievable rapidity. And that square opening of the window-port was +hardly vacant when Lanyard sprang to his feet; the fugitive had barely time +to find his own upon the outer deck before Lanyard leaped after him; the +first thumps upon the panels of his door were still echoing when he thrust +head and shoulders out of the port and began to pump the automatic at a +shadow fleeing aft upon that narrow breadth of planking between rail and +wall. + +Then, at the third shot, the automatic jammed upon a discharged shell. + +Exasperated, the adventurer cast the weapon from him, shrugged hastily out +of his unfastened coat and waistcoat, hitched tight his belt, and clambered +through the port. + +Dropping to the deck, he turned in time to see the fugitive dart round the +shoulder of the superstructure. + +As Lanyard gained the after rail of the promenade deck a man standing on +the boat-deck at the head of the companion-ladder greeted him with pistol +fire. He dodged back, untouched, and instantaneously devised a stratagem to +cope with this untoward development. + +Overhead, at the side, a lifeboat hung on its davits, ready for emergency +launching, the gap in the rail which it filled when normally swung inboard +spanned only by a length of line. And the darkness in the shadow of the +boat was dense, an excellent screen. + +Climbing upon the rail, Lanyard grasped the edge of the deck overhead and +drew himself up undetected by his quarry, whom he espied still holding +the head of the companion ladder, hidden from the bridge by the after +deck-house, standing ready to shoot Lanyard should he attempt to renew the +pursuit by that approach. + +At the same time, "Karl" seemed mysteriously occupied with some object or +objects in whose manipulation he was hampered to a degree by the necessity +under which he laboured of holding his pistol ready and dividing his +attention. + +A man of good stature, broad at the shoulders, slender at the hips, he +poised himself with athletic grace--the lower part of his face masked by +what Lanyard took to be a dark silk handkerchief. + +Lanyard heard him swearing in German. + +Then a brisk little spray of sparks jetted from the flint and steel of a +patent cigar-lighter in the hands of the spy. And as Lanyard rose from his +knees after ducking beneath the line, a stream of fatter sparks spat from +the end of a fuse. + +The man leaned over the rail and cast a small black object to which the +sputtering fuse was attached, down to the main deck. + +As it struck midway between superstructure and stern it burst into +brilliant flame, releasing upon the night an electric-blue glare that must +have been visible from any point within the compass of the horizon. + +A yell of profane remonstrance saluted the light, and throughout the brief +passage that followed Lanyard was conscious that pistols and rifles on the +after deck below were making him and his antagonist their targets. + +Before the German could face about, Lanyard, moving almost noiselessly in +his bare feet, had covered more than half the intervening space. In another +breath he might have had the fellow at a disadvantage. But the distance +was too great. Twice the automatic blazed in his face as he closed in, the +bullets clearing narrowly--or else he fancied that their deadly cold breath +fanned his cheek. + +Then the spy's weapon in turn went out of action. Half blinded, Lanyard +clipped the man round the body and hugged him tight, exerting all his skill +and strength to effect a throw. + +That effort failed; his onslaught was met with address and ability that +all but matched his own. The animal he embraced had muscles like tempered +springs and the cunning and fury of a wild beast in a trap. For a moment +Lanyard was able to accomplish no more than to smother resistance in a +rib-crushing embrace; no sooner did he relax it than all attempts to shift +his hold were anticipated and met half way, forcing him back upon the +defensive. + +Yet he was given little chance to prove himself the master. The first phase +of the struggle was still in contest when the rear door of the smoking room +opened and a man stepped out, paused, summed up the situation in a glance, +seized Lanyard from behind. + +The adventurer felt his arms grasped by hands whose strength seemed little +short of superhuman, and wrenched back so violently that his very bones +cracked. Fairly lifted from his feet, he was held as helpless as an infant +kicking in the arms of its nurse. + +Released, the other spy stepped back and swung his left fist viciously to +Lanyard's jaw. Something in the brain of the adventurer seemed to let +go; his head dropped weakly to one side. The man who had struck him said +quietly, "Loose the fool, Ed," and followed as Lanyard reeled away, +striking him repeatedly. + +For a giddy moment Lanyard was darkly conscious--as one dreams an evil +dream--of blows raining mercilessly about his head and body, blows that +drove him back athwartships toward a fate dark and terrible, a great void +of blackness. He felt unutterably weary, and was weakened by a sensation of +nausea. Beneath him his knees buckled. There fell one final blow, ruthless +as the wrath of God. + +He was falling backward into nothingness, into an everlasting gulf of night +that yawned for him.... + +As he shot under the guard rope and into space between the edge of the deck +and the keel of the lifeboat, the spy rounded smartly on a heel and darted +to the smoking-room door. His confederate was in the act of stepping across +the raised threshold. He followed, closed the door. + +The first officer, charging aft from the bridge, rounded the deck-house and +pulled up with a grunt of surprise to find the deck completely deserted.... + +The shock of icy immersion reanimated Lanyard. + +He felt himself plunging headlong down, down, and down to inky depths +unguessable. The sheer habit of an accustomed swimmer alone bade him hold +his breath. + +Then came a pause: he was no more descending; for a time of indeterminate +duration, an age of anguish, he seemed to float without motion, suspended +in frigid purgatory. Against his ribs something hammered like a racing +engine. In his ears sounded a vast roaring, the deafening voices of a +thousand waterfalls. His head felt swollen and enormous, on the point of +bursting wide. + +Without warning expelled from those depths, he shot full half-length out of +water, and fell back into the milky welter of the _Assyrian's_ wake. + +Instinctively he kept afloat with feeble strokes. + +The cold was bitter, as sharp as the teeth of death; but his head was now +clear, he was able to appreciate what had befallen him. + +Already the _Assyrian_, forging onward unchecked, had left him well astern, +her progress distinctly disclosed by that infernal bluish glare spouting +from her after deck. + +She seemed absurdly small. Incredulity infected Lanyard's mind. Nothing so +tiny, so insignificant, so make-believe as that silhouette of a ship could +conceivably be that great liner, the _Assyrian_.... + +Temporarily a burning pain in his left shoulder drove all other +considerations out of mind. The salt water was beginning to smart in the +raw, superficial wound made by that assassin's bullet ... back there in the +stateroom ... long ago.... + +Then the cold began to bite into his marrow, and he struggled manfully +to swim, taking long, slow strokes, at first comparatively powerful, by +insensible degrees losing force. + +Just why he took this trouble he did not know: for some dim reason it +seemed desirable to live as long as possible. Withal he was aware he could +not live. Whether careless or utterly ignorant of his fate, the _Assyrian_ +was trudging on and on, leaving him ever farther astern, lost beyond rescue +in that weird, bleak waste. Even were an alarm to be given, were she to +stop now and put out a boat, it would find him, if it found him at all, too +late. + +The cold was killing. + +He felt very sleepy. Drowsily he apprehended the beginning of the end. +His senses, growing numb with cold, presently must cease to function +altogether. Then he would forget, and nothing would matter any more. + +Yet the will to live persisted amazingly. Had Lanyard wished it he could +not have ceased to swim, at least to keep afloat. Vaguely he wondered how +people ever managed to commit suicide by drowning; it seemed to pass human +power to resist that buoyancy which sustained one, to let go, let one's +self go down. Impossible to conceive how that was ever done.... + +Why should he care to go on living? + +No reading that riddle!... + +On obscure impulse he gave up swimming, turned upon his back, floated face +to the sky, derelict, resigning himself to the cradling arms of the sea. +The gradual, slow rocking of the swells soothed his passion like a kindly +opiate. The cold no more irked him, but seemed somehow strangely anodynous. +Imperturbably he envisaged death, without fear, without welcome. What must +be, must.... + +For all that, life clutched at him with jealous hands. More than ever +sleepy, before he slept that last, long sleep he must somehow solve this +enigma, learn the reason why life continued so to allure his failing +senses. + +Athwart the drab texture of consciousness wild fancies played like heat +lightning in a still midsummer night. + +Death's countenance was kind. + +That wide field of stars, drooping low and lifting away with rhythmic +motion, would sometime dip swiftly down to the very sea itself and, +swinging back, take with it his soul to some remote bourne.... + +The deeps were yielding up their mysteries. Past him a huge pale monster +swept at furious pace, hissing grimly as it passed, like some spectral +Nemesis pursuing the _Assyrian_. + +Indifferently he speculated concerning the reality of this phenomenon. + +The heave of a swell enabled him to glance incuriously after the steamship. +She seemed smaller, less genuine than ever, a shadow shape that boasted +visibility solely through that unearthly light on her after deck. Even +that now had waned to a mere glimmer, the flicker of a candle lost in the +immensities of that night-bound world of empty sky and empty ocean. Even as +he that had been named Michael Lanyard was a lost light, a tiny flame that +guttered toward its swift extinction.... + +Why live, when one might die and, dying, find endless rest? + +Like a blazing thunderbolt one word rent the slumbrous web of sentience: +_Ekstrom_! + +Galvanised by the flood of hatred unpent by the syllables of that name, +Lanyard began again to swim, flailing the water with frantic arms as if to +win somewhither by the very violence of his efforts. + +This the one cogent reason why he must not, could not, die.... + +Unjust to require him to give up life while that one lived. Unfair.... It +must not be!... + +Across the sea rolled a dull, brutish detonation. The swimmer, swung high +on the bosom of a great swell, saw a vast sheet of fire raving heavenward +from the _Assyrian_. + +It vanished instantly. + +When his dazzled vision cleared, he could see no more of the ship. He +imagined a faint, wild rumour of panic voices, conjured up scenes of horror +indescribable as that great fabric sank almost instantaneously, as if some +gigantic hand plucked her under. + +What had happened? Had the accomplices of the dead Baron von Harden set off +an infernal machine aboard the vessel? In the name of reason, why? They had +got what they sought, that accursed document, whatever it was, that page +torn from the Book of Doom. Then why...? + +And to what end had they exploded that light bomb on the after deck? + +To make the _Assyrian_ a glaring target in the night--what else? A target +for what?... + +Of a sudden all rational mental processes were erased from Lanyard's +consciousness. A wave of pure fear flooded him, body, mind, and soul. He +began to struggle like a maniac, fighting the waters that hindered his +flight from some hideous thing that was lifting up from the ocean's ooze to +drag him down. + +He heard a voice screaming thinly, and knew it was his own. + +The impossible was happening to him, out there, alone and helpless on the +face of the waters. A shape of horror was rising out of the deep to engorge +him. He could feel distinctly the slow, irresistible heave of its bulk +beneath him. His feet touched and slipped upon its horrible sleek flanks. + +His most desperate efforts were all unavailing. He could not escape. The +thing came up too rapidly. Following that first mad thrill of contact with +it underfoot, he was lifted swiftly and irresistibly into the air. Almost +instantly he was floundering in knee-deep waters that parted, cascading +away on either hand. Then, elevated well above the sea, he slid and fell +prone upon a slimy wet surface. + +His clawing hands clutched something solid and substantial, an upright bar +of metal. + +Incredulously Lanyard pawed the body of the monster beneath him. His hands +passed over a riveted joint of metal plates. Looking up, he made out the +truncated cone of a conning tower with its antennae-like periscope tubes +stencilled black upon the soft purple of the star-strewn sky. + +Slowly the truth came home: a submarine had risen beneath him. He lay upon +its after deck, grasping a stanchion that supported the small raised bridge +round the conning tower. + +He sobbed a little in sheer hysteric gratitude, that this miracle had been +vouchsafed unto him, that he had thus been spared to live on against his +hour with Ekstrom. + +But when he sought to drag himself up to the bridge, he could not, he +was too weak and faint. Ceasing to struggle, he rested in half stupour, +panting. + +With a harsh clang a hatch was thrown back. Rousing, Lanyard saw several +figures emerge from the conning tower. Men uncouthly clothed in shapeless, +shiny leather garments, straddled and stretched above him, filling their +lungs with the sweet air. He tried to call to them, but evoked a mere +rattle from his throat. + +Two came to the edge of the bridge and stood immediately over him, fixing +binoculars to their eyes, their voices quite audible. + +A pang of despair shot through Lanyard when he heard them conferring +together in the German tongue. + +Death, then, was but a little delayed. + +Thereafter he lay in dumb apathy, save that he shivered and his teeth +chattered uncontrollably. + +Through the torpor that rested like a black cloud upon his senses he caught +broken phrases, snatches of sentences: + +"... _sinking fast ... struck square amidships ... broke her back_...." + +"... _trouble with her boats. There goes one over_!..." + +"... _fools jumping overboard like cattle_...." + +"_What's that rocket? Do the swine want us to shell their boats_?" + +"_Why not? They're asking for it_!" + +One of the officers lowered his glasses and barked a series of sharp +commands. The crew on deck leaped to attention. One leaned over the +conning-tower hatch and shouted to his mates below. A hatch forward of +the tower opened, and a quick-firing gun on a disappearing carriage swung +smoothly and silently up from its lair. + +The other officer, looking down, started violently. + +"_Verdammt_! What's this?" + +The first rejoined him. "Impossible!" + +"Impossible or not--a man or a cadaver!" + +"Have him up and see...." + +By order, two of the crew dragged Lanyard up to the bridge, supporting him +by main strength while the officers examined him. + +"At the last gasp, but alive," one announced. + +"How the devil did he get out here?" + +"From the _Assyrian_--" + +"Impossible for any man to swim this far since our torpedo struck--" + +"Then he must have gone overboard before it struck--or was thrown--" + +A cry of alarm from the group about the gun, awaiting final orders to open +fire upon the _Assyrian's_ boats, interrupted the conference. The officers +swung away in haste. + +"Hell's fury! what's that searchlight?" + +"A Yankee destroyer--in all probability the one we dodged yesterday +afternoon." + +"She'll find us yet if we don't submerge. Forward, there--house that gun! +And get below--quickly!" + +During a moment of apparent confusion, one of the men sustaining Lanyard +caught the attention of an officer. + +"What shall we do with this fellow, sir?" he enquired. + +"Leave him here to sink or swim as we go down," snapped the officer--"and +be damned to him!" + +With a supreme effort the adventurer sank his fingers deep into the arms of +the two men. + +"Wait!" he gasped faintly in German. "On the Emperor's service--" + +"What's that?" The officer turned back sharply. + +"Imperial Secret Service," Lanyard faltered--"Personal +Division--Wilhelmstrasse Number 27--" + +A brilliant glare settled suddenly upon the deck of the submarine, and was +welcomed by a panicky gust of oaths. One officer had already popped through +the conning-tower hatch, followed by several of the crew. There remained +only those supporting Lanyard, and the second officer. + +"Take him below!" the latter ordered. "He may be telling the truth. If +not...." + +In the distance a gun boomed. A shell shrieked over the submarine and +dropped into the sea not a hundred yards to starboard. The men rushed +Lanyard toward the conning tower. He tried feebly to help them. In that +effort consciousness was altogether blotted out.... + + + + +IX + +SUB SEA + + +When he opened his eyes again he was resting, after a fashion, naked +between harsh, damp blankets in a narrow, low-ceiled bunk inches too short +for one of his stature. + +After an experimental squirm or two he lay very still; his back and all his +limbs were stiff and sore, his bullet-seared shoulder burned intolerably +beneath a rudely applied first-aid dressing, and he was breathing heavily +long, labouring inhalations of an atmosphere sickeningly dank, close, and +foul with unspeakable stenches, for which the fumes of sulphuric acid with +a rank reek of petroleum and lubricating oils formed but a modest and +retiring background. + +Also his head felt very thick and dull. He found it extremely difficult to +think, and for some time, indeed, was quite unable to think to any purpose. + +His very eyes ached in their sockets. + +In the ceiling glowed an electric bulb, dimly illuminating a cubicle barely +big enough to accommodate the bunk, a dresser, and a small desk with a +folding seat. The inner wall was a slightly concave surface of steel plates +whose seams oozed moisture. In the opposite wall was a sliding door, open, +beyond which ran a narrow alleyway floored with metal grating. Everything +in sight was enamelled with white paint and clammy with the sweat of that +foetid air. + +Over all an unnatural hush brooded, now and again accentuated by a rumble +of distant voices and gusts of vacant laughter, once or twice by a curious +popping. For a long time he heard nothing else whatever. The effect was +singularly disquieting and did its bit to quicken torpid senses to grasp +his plight. + +Sluggishly enough Lanyard pieced together fragments of lurid memories, +reconstructing the sequence of last night's events scene by scene to the +moment of his rescue by the U-boat. + +So, it appeared, he was aboard a German submersible, virtually a prisoner, +though posing as an agent of the Personal Intelligence Department of the +German Secret Service. + +To that inspiration of failing consciousness he owed his life, or such +of its span as now remained to him, a term whose duration could only be +defined by his ability to carry off the imposture pending problematic +opportunity to escape. And, assuming that this last were ever offered him, +there was no present possibility of guessing how long it might not be +deferred. + +Its butcher's mission successfully accomplished, the U-boat was not +improbably even now en route for Heligoland, beginning a transatlantic +cruise of weeks that might never end save in a nameless grave at the bottom +of the Four Seas. + +Only the matter of impersonation failed to embarrass in prospect. A natural +linguist, Lanyard's three years within the German lines had put a rare +finish upon his mastery of German. More than this, he was well versed in +the workings of the Prussian spy system. As Dr. Paul Rodiek, Wilhelmstrasse +Agent Number 27, he was safe as long as he found no acquaintance of that +gentleman in the complement of the submarine; for, largely upon information +furnished by Lanyard himself, Dr. Rodiek had been secretly apprehended +and executed in the Tower the day before Lanyard left London to join the +_Assyrian_. + +But the question of the U-boat's present whereabouts and its movements +in the immediate future disturbed the adventurer profoundly. He was +elaborately incurious about Heligoland; and several weeks' association +with the Boche in the close quarters of a submarine was a prospect that +revolted. Wellnigh any fate were preferable.... + +Uncertain footsteps sounded in the alleyway, paused at the entrance to his +cubicle. He turned his head wearily on the pillow. In the doorway stood +a man whose slenderly elegant carriage of a Prussian officer was not +disguised even by his shapeless wreck of a naval lieutenant's uniform, a +man with a countenance of singularly unpleasant cast, leaving out of all +consideration the grease and grime that discoloured it. His narrow forehead +slanted back just a trace too sharply, his nose was thin and overlong, his +mouth thin and cruel beneath its ambitious mustache a la Kaiser; his small +black eyes, set much too close together, blazed with unholy exhilaration. + +As soon as he spoke Lanyard understood that he was drunk, drunk with more +than the champagne of which he presently boasted. + +"Awake, eh?" he greeted Lanyard with a mirthless snarl. "You've slept like +the dead man I took you for at first, my friend--a solid fourteen hours, my +word for it! Feeling better now?" + +Lanyard's essays to reply began and ended in a croak for water. The +Prussian nodded, disappeared, returned with an aluminium cup of stale cold +water mixed with a little brandy. + +"Champagne if you like," he offered, as Lanyard, painfully propping himself +up on an elbow, gulped like an animal from the vessel held to his lips. "We +are holding a little celebration, you know." + +Lanyard dropped back to the pillow, the question in his eyes. + +"Celebrating our success," the Prussian responded. "We got her, and that +means much honour and a long furlough to boot, when we get home, just as +failure would have spelled--I don't like to think what. I shouldn't care to +fill the shoes of those poor devils who let the _Assyrian_ escape them off +Ireland, I can tell you." + +Something very much like true fear flickered in his small eyes as he +pondered the punishment meted out to those who failed. + +So the U-boat was homeward bound! Strange one noticed no motion of her +progress, heard no noise of machinery. + +"Where are we?" Lanyard whispered. + +"Peacefully asleep on the bottom, about five miles south of Martha's +Vineyard, waiting till it is dark enough to slip in to our base." + +"Base?" + +The Prussian hiccoughed and giggled. "On the south shore of the Vineyard," +he confided with alcoholic glee: "snuggest little haven heart could wish, +well to the north of all deep-sea traffic; and the coastwise trade runs +still farther north, through Vineyard Sound, other side the island. Not +a soul ever comes that way, not a soul suspects. How should they? +The admirable charts of the Yankee Coast and Geodetic Survey"--he +sneered--"show no break in the south beach of the island, between the ocean +and the ponds. But there is one. The sea made the breach during a gale, our +people helped with a little Trotyl, tides and storms did the rest. Now we +can enter a secluded, landlocked harbour with just enough water at low +tide, and lie hidden there till the word comes to move again--three miles +of dense scrub forest, all privately owned as a game preserve, fenced and +patrolled, between us and the nearest cultivated land--and friends in +plenty on the island to keep all our needs supplied--petroleum, fresh +vegetables, champagne, all that. Just the same we take no chances--never +make our landfall by day, never enter or leave harbour except at night." + +He paused, contemplating Lanyard owlishly. "Ought not to tell you all +this, I presume," he continued, more soberly, though the wild light still +flickered ominously in his eyes. "But it is safe enough; you will see for +yourself in a few hours; and then ... either you are all right, or you will +never live to tell of it. We radio'd for information about Wilhelmstrasse +Number 27 just before dawn, after we had dodged that damned Yankee +destroyer. Ought to get an answer to-night, when we come up." + +Heavier footsteps rang in the alleyway. The Prussian made a grimace of +dislike. + +"Here comes the commander," he cautioned uneasily. + +A great blond Viking of a German in the uniform of a captain shouldered +heavily through the doorway and, acknowledging the salute of the rat-faced +subaltern with a bare nod, stood looking down at Lanyard in taciturn +silence, hostility in his blood-shot blue eyes. + +"How long since he wakened?" he asked thickly, with the accent of a +Bavarian. + +"A minute or two ago." + +"Why did you not inform me?" + +The tone was offensively domineering, thanks like enough to drink, nerves, +and hatred of his job and all things and persons pertaining to it. + +The subaltern coloured. "He asked for water--I got it for him." + +The commander stared churlishly, then addressed Lanyard: "How are you now?" + +"Very faint," Lanyard said truthfully. But he would have lied had it been +otherwise with him. It was his book to make time in which to collect his +thoughts, concoct a bullet-proof story, plan against an adverse answer to +that wireless enquiry. + +"Can you eat, drink a little champagne?" + +Lanyard nodded slightly, adding a feeble "Please." + +The Bavarian glanced significantly at his subaltern, who hastened to leave +them. + +"Who are you? What is your name?" + +"Dr. Paul Rodiek." + +"Your employment?" + +"Personal Intelligence Bureau--confidential agent." + +"What were you doing on board the _Assyrian_?" + +Lanyard mustered enough strength to look the man squarely in the eye. + +"Pardon," he said coldly. "You must know your question is indiscreet." + +"I must know more about you." + +"It should be enough," Lanyard ventured boldly, "to know that I set off +that flare as arranged, at risk of my life." + +"How came you overboard?" + +"In the scuffle caused by my lighting the flare." + +"So you tell me. But we found you half clothed, lacking any sort of +identification. Am I to accept your unsupported word?" + +"My papers are naturally at the bottom of the sea, in the garments I +discarded lest their weight drag me down. If you have doubts," Lanyard +continued firmly, "it is your privilege to settle them by communicating via +radio with Seventy-ninth Street." + +He shut his eyes wearily and turned his head aside on the pillow, confident +that this reference to the headquarters and secret wireless station of the +Prussian spy system in New York would win him peace for a time at least. + +After a moment the commander uttered a non-committal grunt. "We shall see," +he prophesied darkly, and went away. + +Later, one of the crew brought Lanyard a dish of greasy stew and potatoes, +lukewarm, with bread and a half-bottle of excellent champagne. + +He ate all he could stomach of the first, devoured the second ravenously, +and drained the bottle of its ultimate life-giving drop. + +Then, immeasurably refreshed and fortified in body and spirit, he turned +face to the wall, composed himself as if to sleep, shut his eyes, adjusted +the tempo of his respiration, and lay quite still, wide awake and thinking +hard. + +After a while somebody tramped into the cubicle, bent over Lanyard +inquisitively and, satisfied that he slept, retired, taking away the empty +bottle and dishes. + +Otherwise his meditations were disturbed only by those echoes of revelry +in honour of the late manifestation of the Hun's divine right to do wanton +murder on the high seas. + +The rumour waxed and waned, died into dull mutterings, broke out afresh in +spurts of merriment that held an hysterical note. Once a quarrel sprang up +and was silenced by the commander's deep, unpleasant tones. Corks popped +spasmodically. Again there were sounds much like a man's sobbing; but these +were promptly blared down by a phonograph with a typically American accent. +When that palled, a sentimental disciple of frightfulness sang Tannenbaum +in a melting tenor. + +Everything tended to effect an impression that all, commander and meanest +mechanic alike, were making forlorn efforts to forget. + +Devoutly Lanyard prayed they might be successful, at least until the +submarine made her secret base. If too much alcohol was bad, too much +brooding was infinitely worse for the German temperament. He remembered +one U-boat commander who, returning to the home port after a conspicuously +successful cruise, had been taken ashore in a strait-jacket. + +Lanyard himself did not care to dwell upon those scenes which must have +been enacted on board the _Assyrian_ after the torpedo struck.... + +Deliberately ignoring all else, he set himself the task of reviewing those +events which had led up to his going overboard. + +One by one he considered the incidents of that night, painstakingly +dissected them, examined their every phase in minute analysis, weighing for +ulterior meaning every word uttered in his presence, harking even farther +back to reconstruct his acquaintance with each actor from the very moment +of its inception, seeking that hint which he was convinced must be +somewhere hidden in the history of the affair, waiting only recognition to +lead straightway out of this gloomy maze of mystery into a sunlit open of +understanding. + +In vain: there was an ambiguity in that business to baffle the keenest and +most pertinacious investigation. + +The conduct of Cecelia Brooke alone bristled with inconsistencies +inexplicable, the conduct of the German spies no less. + +To get better perspective upon the problem, he reduced the premises to +their barest summary: + +A valuable dossier brought on board the _Assyrian_ (no matter by whom) had +come into the possession of British agents, with the knowledge of Captain +Osborne. Thackeray had secreted it in that fraudulent bandage. German +agents, apparently under the leadership of Baron von Harden, had waylaid +him, knocked him senseless, unwrapped the bandage, but somehow (probably +in the first instance through the interference of the Brooke girl) had +overlooked the document. Subsequently the Brooke girl had found and +entrusted it to Lanyard. (No matter why!) He on his part had exerted his +utmost inventiveness in hiding it away. Nevertheless it had been discovered +and abstracted within an hour. + +By whom? + +Not improbably by the Brooke girl herself. Repenting her impulsiveness, +after leaving Lanyard with the captain, from whom she had doubtless learned +the truth about "Monsieur Duchemin," she might well have gone directly to +Lanyard's stateroom and hit upon the morphia phial as the likeliest hiding +place without delay, thanks to prior acquaintance with the proportions of +the paper cylinder. + +But why should she have assumed that Lanyard had not disposed of the trust +about his person? + +Not impossibly the thing had been found by the first officer of the +_Assyrian_, searching by order of the captain--as Lanyard assumed he had. + +But, if Mr. Warde had found it, he had not reported his find when +telephoning to Captain Osborne; or else the latter had gone to great +lengths to mystify Lanyard. + +There remained the chance that the paper had been stolen by one of the two +German agents--by either without the knowledge of the other. + +If Baron von Harden had found it--necessarily before Lanyard returned +to the room--he had subsequently been at elaborate pains to conceal his +success from both his victim and his confederate. Why? Did he distrust the +latter? Again, why? + +If "Karl" had been the thief, it must have been after Lanyard's return, +and while the Baron was preoccupied with the task of keeping the prisoner +quiet, to let the search proceed. + +In that event "Karl" had lied deliberately to his superior. Why? Because +the document was salable, and "Karl" intended to realize its value for his +personal benefit? + +Not an unlikely explanation. Nor could this be called the first instance in +which the Prussian spy system, admirably organized though it was, had been +betrayed by one of its own agents. + +This hypothesis, too, accounted for that most perplexing circumstance of +all, the murder of Baron von Harden. For Lanyard was fully persuaded that +had been nothing less than premeditated murder, in no way an accident of +faulty aim. Even the most nervous and unstrung man could hardly have missed +six shots out of seven, point blank. A nervous man, indeed, could hardly +have gained his own consent to take so hideous a chance of injuring or +killing a collaborator. + +It appeared, then, that one of four things had happened to the cylinder of +paper: + +Miss Brooke had taken it back into her own care. In which case Lanyard was +no more concerned. + +Captain Osborne had secured it through Mr. Warde. This, however, Lanyard +did not seriously credit. + +It had gone to the bottom when the _Assyrian_ sank with the body--among +others--of Baron von Harden. + +Or "Karl" had stolen it. + +Privately, indeed, Lanyard rather inclined to hope that the last might +prove to be the true solution. He desired earnestly to meet "Karl" once +more, on equal terms. And the more counts in the score, the greater his +satisfaction in exacting a reckoning in full. + +But he anticipated. That chapter might only too possibly have been closed +forever by the hand of Death. As yet he knew nothing concerning the +mortality of the _Assyrian_ debacle. He had not enquired of the officers of +the U-boat because they knew little if anything more than he. Their glasses +had discovered to them trouble with the lifeboats; they had spoken of one +boat capsizing, of "people going overboard like cattle." There must have +been many drownings, even with a United States destroyer near by and +speeding to the rescue. + +A single question troubled Lanyard greatly. Officers and crew of the U-boat +had betrayed profoundest consternation upon the advent of that destroyer, +presumably a warship of a neutral nation. And that same ship had without +hesitation fired upon the submarine. + +Was it possible, then, that the United States had already declared war on +Germany? + +It seemed extremely probable; in such event these Germans would have been +notified instantly by wireless from the New York bureau of their country's +Secret Service; whereas, Captain Osborne, receiving the same advice by +wireless, might reasonably have kept it quiet lest the news stir to more +formidable activity those agents of the Wilhelmstrasse whose presence among +the passengers he must at least have strongly suspected. + +Presently the closeness of the atmosphere began to work upon Lanyard's +perceptions. In spite of his long rest, a new drowsiness drugged his +senses. He yielded without struggle, knowing he would soon need every ounce +of strength and vitality that sleep could give him.... + +The din of an inferno startled him awake. Those narrow metal walls were +echoing a clangour of machinery maniacal in character and overpowering in +volume. Clankings, tappings, hissings, coughings, clatterings, stridulation +of a wireless spark, drone of dynamos, shrewdish scolding of Diesel motors +developing two thousand horsepower, individual efforts of some two thousand +valves, combined--or, declined to combine--in a cacophony like nothing +under the sun but the chant of a submersible under way on the surface. + +Lanyard, gratefully aware of a current of fresh air sweeping through the +hold, rolled out of his bunk to find that, while he slept, clothing had +been provided for him, rough but adequate; heavy woollen underwear and +socks, a sweater, a dungaree coat, trousers of the same stuff, all vilely +damp, and a friendless pair of oil-sodden shoes: the sweepings of a dozen +lockers, but as welcome as disreputable. + +Dressed, he turned aft through the alleyway, entering immediately the +central operating room and storm center of that typhoon of noise, a +wilderness of polished machinery in active being. + +Of the score or more leather-clad machinists silent at their posts, none +paid him more heed than a passing, incurious glance as he crossed to a +narrow steel companion ladder and ascended to the conning tower. This he +found deserted; but its deck-hatch was open. He climbed out to the bridge. + +The night was calm and heavily overcast, with no sea more than long, slow +swells. Through its windless quiet the U-boat racketed with the raving +abandon of the Spirit of Discord on a spree in a boiler factory. To the +riot of its internal strife was added the remonstrance of waters sliced by +the stem and flung back by the sides, a prolonged and stertorous hiss like +the rending of an endless sheet of canvas. + +To eyes new from the electric illumination of the hold, the blackness was +positive, with the palpable quality of an element, relieved alone by the +dull glow of the binnacle housing the gyroscope telltale, from which the +faintest of golden reflections struck back to pick out a pair of seemingly +severed fists gripping the handles of the bridge steering wheel with a +singular effect of desperation. + +For some moments Lanyard could see nothing more. + +The mirthless chuckle of the lieutenant sounded at his elbow. + +"So the good Herr Doctor thought he had better come up for air, eh? My +friend, the very dead might envy you the sincerity of your slumbers. We +have been half an hour on the surface, with all this uproar--and you are +only just wakened!" + +"Half an hour?" Lanyard repeated thoughtfully. "Then we should be close +in...." + +"Give us ten minutes more ... if we don't go aground in this accursed +blackness!" + +A broad-shouldered body passed between Lanyard and the binnacle, +momentarily eclipsing its light. Down below in the operating room a bell +shrilled, and of a sudden the Diesels were silenced. + +The dead quiet that followed the sharp extinction of that hubbub was as +startling as the detonation of high explosive had been. + +Through this sudden stillness the submarine slipped stealthily, the hissing +beneath her bows dying down to gentle sibilance. + +From forward the calls of an invisible leadsman were audible. In response +the commander uttered throaty orders to the helmsman at his elbow, and +those unattached hands shifted the wheel minutely. + +Lanyard started to speak, but a growl from the captain, and a touch of the +lieutenant's hand on his sleeve cautioned him to silence. + +There was a small pause. The vessel seemed to have lost way altogether, to +swim like a spirit ship that Stygian tide. The lieutenant moved forward, +leaving Lanyard alone. The voice of the leadsman was stilled. By the wheel +the captain stood absolutely motionless, his body vaguely silhouetted +against the glow of the binnacle. The hands that gripped the wheel so +savagely were as steady as if carven out of stone. An atmosphere of +suspense enveloped the boat like a cloud. + +Lanyard grew conscious of something huge and formidable, a denser shadow in +the darkness beyond the bows, the loom of land. Off to starboard a point +of light appeared abruptly, precisely as if a golden pin had punctured the +black blanket of the night. The captain growled gutturals of relief and +command. The hands on the wheel shifted, steering exceeding small. A second +light shone out to port, then shifted slowly into range with the first, +till the two were as one. Again the bell sang in the operating room, and +the vessel forged ahead quietly to the urge of electric motors alone. A +third light and a fourth appeared, well apart to port and starboard, the +range lights precisely equidistant between them. Between these the U-boat +moved swiftly. They swam back on either hand and were abruptly extinguished +as if the night, resenting their insolent trespass, had gobbled both at a +gulp. + +The temperature became sensibly warmer and the salt air of the sea was +strongly tinctured with the sweet smell of pines and forest mould. + +Up forward carbons sputtered and spat; a searchlight was unsheathed and +carved the gloom as if it was butter, ranging swiftly over the tree-clad +shore of a burnished black lagoon, picking out en passant several unpainted +wooden structures, then steadying on a long and substantial landing stage, +on which several men stood waiting. + + + + +X + +AT BASE + + +As the U-boat, with motors dead and way lessening, glided up alongside +the head of that T-shaped landing stage and was made fast, the wireless +operator popped up from below, saluted the commander, and delivered a +written message. + +Lanyard, instinctively aware that this was the expected report from +Seventy-ninth Street on Dr. Paul Rodiek, quietly pulled himself together +and took quick observations. + +At best his chances in the all-too-probable emergency were far from +brilliant. Yet one might better perish trying, however hopelessly, than +passively submit to being shot down. + +The lieutenant, waspishly superintending the work of crew and base guards +at the mooring lines, stood preoccupied within an arm's length; while the +landing stage was a fair six feet away. From its T-head to the shore, the +distance was nothing less than two hundred yards. + +Desperate action and miraculous luck might take the Prussian by surprise +and enable one to snatch the service automatic from its holster at his +belt, leap to the stage, and shoot a way landward through the guards +clustered there; after which everything would depend on swiftness of foot +and the uncertain light permitting one to gain a refuge in the surrounding +woodland without a bullet in one's back. + +It was a sorry hope.... + +With catlike attention Lanyard watched the hands holding that paper to the +binnacle light--large hands, heavy and muscular but tremulous with drink +and nervous reaction from the long strain and cumulative horror of the +cruise then ending. Their aim would not be good, except by accident. None +the less, if the report were unfavourable, their first gesture would be +toward the holster, signalling to Lanyard that the moment had come to +initiate heroic measures. + +The Bavarian was an unconscionable time absorbing the import of the +message. Bending his face close to the paper, the better to make out the +writing, he read with moving lips, slowly, a doltish frown of concentration +clouding his congested countenance. + +At length, however, he stood up, swaying a little as he folded and pocketed +the paper. + +Lanyard relaxed. The man was too far gone in drink to be crafty, too sure +of his absolute power of life and death to imagine a need for craft. Since +his hand had not immediately sought the holster, it would not. + +Turbid accents uttered the name of Dr. Rodiek. + +Lanyard stepped forward alertly. "Yes, Herr Captain?" + +"New York says it had no knowledge of your intention to leave England on +the _Assyrian_, but that you may well have done so. The Wilhelmstrasse will +know, of course. It has already been telegraphed. Pending its reply, I am +to detain you." + +"How long?" Lanyard demurred. + +"As you know, transatlantic communications must now go by land telegraph to +the Border, by hand into Mexico, thence by radio via Venezuela to Berlin. +All that takes time. Also, we may not signal New York but at stated times +of night. You will be detained another twenty-four hours at least, possibly +longer." + +"My errand cannot wait." + +"It must." + +"You will obstruct the business of the Imperial Government at your peril." + +"I would incur still greater peril did I let you go," the commander replied +nervously. "With these swine-dogs at war with the Fatherland, our lives are +not worth _that_ should this base be betrayed." + +"Do I understand America has declared war?" + +"Two days since. Did you not know?" + +"The _Assyrian's_ wireless room was under guard: the captain published no +bulletins whatever." + +The Bavarian gave a gesture of impatience. + +"You will remain on board for the night," he announced heavily. + +"Pardon!" Lanyard insisted with every evidence of anxious excitement. +"What you tell me makes it more than ever imperative that I reach New York +without an hour's avoidable delay. I warn you, think well before you hinder +the discharge of my duty." + +"It is not necessary that I think," the commander replied. "My thinking has +all been done for me. Me, I obey my orders; it is not my part to question +their wisdom. Moreover, Herr Doctor, to my mind your insistence is to say +the least suspicious. Even had I discretion in the matter, I should hold +you. Therefore, you will keep a civil tongue in your head, or go below in +irons immediately!" + +He swung on his heel, showing an insolent back while he conferred with his +subaltern. + +And Lanyard shrugged appreciation of the futility of more contention +against such mulishness. Not that the Bavarian was not right enough! As to +that, one had really hoped for no better issue; but every shift is worth +trial till proved worthless; and he was no worse off now than if he had +submitted without complaint. Still one had Chance to look to for aid and +comfort in this stress; and Chance, the jade, is not always unkind to her +audacious suitors. + +Even now she flashed upon Lanyard a provoking intimation of her smile. +He began to divine possibilities in this overt ill-feeling between the +officers; advantage might be made of the racial hostility of Prussian and +Bavarian. + +The commander's attitude and tone were consistently overbearing, if his +words were inaudible to Lanyard. The lieutenant quite evidently submitted +only in form; his salute was punctiliously correct and curt; and as the +commander lumbered off down the landing stage, he grumbled indistinctly in +Lanyard's hearing: + +"Dog of a Bavarian!" + +"The good Herr Captain," Lanyard suggested pleasantly, "is not in the most +agreeable of tempers, yes?" + +The high and well-born lieutenant spat comprehensively into the darkness +overside. After a moment of hesitation he moved nearer and spoke in +confidential accents. And the fragrant air of the night was tainted with +the vinous effluvium of his breath. + +"Always he prattles of his precious duty!" the Prussian muttered. "Damn his +duty! Look you, Herr Doctor: months we have been on this cruise, yes, more +than three months out of Heligoland, penned together in this ramshackle +stinkpot, or isolated here in this God-forgotten hole, seeing nothing of +life, hearing nothing of the world but what little the radio tells +us--sick of the very sight of one another's faces! And now, when we have +accomplished a glorious feat and have every right to look for prompt recall +and the rewards of heroes, orders come to remain indefinitely and operate +against the North Atlantic fleet of the contemptible Yankee navy! The life +of a dog! And that noble commander of mine pretends to welcome it, talks +of one's duty to the Fatherland--as if he liked the work any better than +I!--solely to spite me!" + +"But why?" + +"Because he hates me," the lieutenant snarled passionately--"hates me even +as I hate him--he knows how well!" + +He interrupted himself to define his conception of the commander's +character in the freest vernacular of the Berlin underworld. + +Lanyard laughed amiably. "They are like that," he agreed--"those +Bavarians!" + +Which inspired the Prussian to deliver a phosphorescent diatribe on the +racial traits of the Bavarian people as comprehended by the North German +junker. + +"To be cooped up God knows how long in this putrescent death-trap with such +cattle," he concluded mutinously--"it passes all endurance!" + +"I wonder you stand it," Lanyard sympathised--"a man of spirit and good +birth, as one readily perceives. Though the life of a secret agent is not +altogether heavenly either, if you ask me," he added gratuitously. "Regard +me now, charged with a mission of most vital moment--more than ever so +since the Yankees have shown their teeth--delayed here indefinitely because +your excellent Herr Captain chooses to doubt my word." + +"Patience. Maybe your release comes quickly. Then he will regret--or would +had he wit enough. There is no cure for a fool." The sententiousness of +this aphorism was unhappily marred by a hiccough. "Anybody with eyes in his +head could see you are what you are...." + +The last of the operating-room crew piled up the hatchway, saluted, and +hurried ashore to join in noisy jubilations. There remained on the U-boat +only the lieutenant with Lanyard, and two base guards detailed as anchor +watch. + +"I must go," the lieutenant volunteered. "And believe me, one welcomes a +change of clothing and a dry bed after a week in this reeking sieve. As for +you, my friend, if it lay with me, you should receive the treatment due +a gentleman." A wave of maudlin camaraderie affected him. He passed an +affectionate arm through Lanyard's and was suffered, though the gorge of +the adventurer revolted at the familiarity. "I am sorry to leave you. No, +do not be astonished! No protestations, please! It is quite true. I know a +man of the right sort when I meet one, the sort even I can associate with +without loss of self-respect. It is a great pity you may not come with me +and make a night of it." + +"Another time, perhaps," Lanyard said. "The night may yet come when you and +I shall meet at the Metropole or the Admiral's Palace.... Who knows?" + +"Ah!" sighed the Prussian, enchanted. "What a night that will be, my +friend!... But now, it is too bad, I really must ask you to step below. +Such are my silly orders. I am made responsible for you. What do you think +of that for a joke, eh?" + +He laughed vacantly but loudly, and, attempting to poke a derisive thumb +into Lanyard's ribs, lost his balance. + +"What a responsibility!" said Lanyard gravely, holding him up. + +"Nonsense, that's what it is. You have no possible chance to escape." + +"Suppose I make one--tip you overboard, take to my heels--?" + +"You would be shot like a rabbit before you got half way to the shore." + +"Ah, but grant, for the sake of argument, that these brave fellows, the +guards, aim poorly in this gloom?" + +"Where would you go? Into the forest, naturally. But how far? You may +believe me when I tell you, not a hundred yards. It's a true wilderness, +scrub-oak and cedar and second growth choked with underbrush, almost +trackless. In five minutes you would be helplessly lost, in this blackness, +with no stars to steer by. We need only wait till daylight to find you +walking in a circle." + +"You can't mean," Lanyard pursued, learning something helpful every moment, +"there is no communicating road?" + +"The main woods road, yes: but that is far too well patrolled. Without the +countersign, you would be caught or shot a dozen times before you reached +the end of it." + +"Ah, well!"--with the sigh of a philosopher--"then I presume there's no way +out but by swimming." + +"Over to the beach you mean? Well, what then? You have got a twenty-mile +walk either way through deep sand sure to betray your footprints. At dawn +we follow and bag you at our leisure." + +"You are discouraging!" Lanyard complained. "I see I may as well go below +and be good. It's a dull life." + +"Tell you what," giggled the lieutenant, leading his prisoner to the +conning-tower hatch and lowering his voice: "do just that, go below and be +nice, and presently I will come back and we'll split a bottle. What do you +say to that, eh?" + +"Colossal!" + +"Not a bad notion, is it? I like it myself. One gets weary for the society +of a gentleman, you've no idea.... As soon as my commander is drunk enough, +I will slip away. How's that?" + +"Grossartig!" Lanyard approved, turning to descend. + +"Wait. You shall see for yourself what it means to have the friendship of +a man of my stamp." The lieutenant raised his voice, addressing the anchor +watch: "Attention. Heed with care: this gentleman is my friend. He is +detained merely as a matter of form. I do not wish him to be annoyed. Do +you understand? You are to leave him to himself as long as he remains +quietly below. But he is not to come on deck again till I return. Is all +that clear, imbeciles?" + +The imbeciles, saluting mechanically, indicated glimmerings of +comprehension. + +"Then below you go, Dr. Rodiek. And don't get impatient: I will rejoin you +as soon as possible." + +"Don't be long," Lanyard implored. + +As he lowered himself through the hatch he saw the Prussian stumble down +the gangplank and reel shoreward. + +Well satisfied with his diplomacy, Lanyard lingered a while in the conning +tower, closely studying and memorising the more salient features of the +Island of Martha's Vineyard and its adjacent waters and mainland as +delineated on a most comprehensive large-scale chart published by the +German Admiralty from exhaustive soundings and surveys of its own +navigators and typographers, with corrections of as recent date as the +first part of the year 1917. + +Here the breach in the south coast line which permitted the utilisation +of what had formerly been an extensive fresh-water pond as this secret +submarine base, was clearly shown. And a single glance confirmed the +lieutenant's statement concerning its remote isolation from settled +sections of the island. + +Somewhat dismayed, Lanyard descended to the central operating compartment +and scouted through the hold from bow bulkhead to stern, making certain he +enjoyed undisputed privacy. And it was so; every man-jack of the U-boat's +personnel--jaded to the marrow with its cramped accommodations, unremitting +toil and care, unsanitary smells and forbidding associations--having +naturally seized the earliest opportunity to escape so loathsome a prison. + +Lanyard, however, was anything but resentful of condemnation to this +solitary confinement. His interest in the interior arrangements of +submersibles seemed all but feverish, as intense as sudden; witness the +minute attention to detail which marked his second tour of inspection. On +this round he took his time. He had all night in which to work out his +salvation; the wildest schemes were revolving in his mind, the least +fantastic utterly impracticable without accurate knowledge of many matters; +and such knowledge might be gained only through patient investigation and +ungrudging expenditure of time. + +It was now something past ten by the chronometers. He could hardly do much +before dawn, lacking the instinct of a red Indian to guide him through +that night-bound waste of woodland. So he felt little need to slight his +researches through haste, except in anticipation of his lieutenant's +return. And as to that, Lanyard was moderately incredulous: he expected to +see nothing more of this new-found friend, unless the infatuation of the +Prussian proved far stronger than his head. + +Turning first to the private quarters of the commander, a somewhat more +commodious cubicle than that across the alleyway in which Lanyard had been +berthed, his interest was attracted by a small safe anchored to the deck +beneath the desk. + +To this Lanyard addressed himself without hesitation, solving the secret +of its combination readily through exercise of the most rudimentary of +professional principles. The problem it offered, indeed, was child's play +to such cunning of touch and hearing as had made the reputation of the Lone +Wolf. + +Open, the safe discovered to him a variety of articles of interest: +some five thousand dollars in English and American banknotes of large +denomination, several hundred in American gold; three distinct cipher +codes, one of these wholly novel in Lanyard's experience and so, he +believed, in the knowledge of the Allied secret services; the log of the +U-boat and the intimate diary of its commander, both in cryptograph; a +compact directory of German agents domiciled in Atlantic coast ports; a +very considerable accumulation of German Admiralty orders; together with +many documents of lesser moment. + +Rapidly sorting out the more valuable of these, Lanyard disposed them about +his person, then confiscated the banknotes as indemnity for his stolen +money-belt, replaced the rejections, and reclosed and locked the safe. + +His next interest was to arm himself. After several disappointments he +discovered arms-lockers beneath the berths for the crew in the forward +compartment just aft of that devoted to torpedo tubes. Here he selected +a latest pattern German navy automatic pistol with three extra cartridge +clips and, after some hesitation, a peculiarly devilish magazine rifle +firing explosive bullets. The latter he placed handily, yet out of sight, +near the foot of the companion ladder. The pistol fitted snugly a trousers +pocket, its bulk hidden by the sag of his sweater.... + +Some time later the lieutenant, slipping down the ladder, found Lanyard +studying with a convincing aspect of childlike bewilderment the complicated +combinations of machinery which crowded the central operating compartment. + +Fresh from a bath and shave and wearing a clean uniform, the Prussian +showed vast improvement in looks if not in equilibrium. But his mouth +twitched fitfully, his eyes wandered and disclosed a disquieting +superabundance of white, and his tongue was noticeably thicker than before. + +"Well, my friend!" he said--"you are truly disappointing. The watch said +you had made no sound since going below. I was afraid of another of those +famous naps of yours." + +"With the prospect of a bottle with you? Impossible! I have been waiting +and waiting, with my tongue hanging out." + +"Too bad. Why did you not look around, help yourself? Why not?" the +lieutenant demanded. "Have I not given you freedom of ship? It is yours, +everything here 'yours!" + +"I want nothing but an end to this great thirst," Lanyard protested. + +"Then--God in Heaven!--why we standing here? Come!" + +Releasing the handrail the Prussian took careful aim for the alleyway door, +launched himself toward it, slipped on the greasy metal grating, and would +have fallen heavily but for Lanyard. + +Cursing pettishly, he stood up, threw off Lanyard's arms without thanks, +and made a new attempt, this time shooting headlong through the alleyway, +to bring up against the wing table in the third forward compartment, the +kitchen and messroom in one. + +"A great pity," he muttered, opening a locker and fumbling in its +depths--"rotten pity...." + +"What?" + +"Keep you waiting so long. Not my fault." The lieutenant brought forth two +bottles of champagne and one of brandy. "You open them, Herr Doctor, like +'good fellow," he said, placing the three on the table. "I just wish you +'understand no discourtesy meant ... unavoidably detained ... beastly +commander ... drunk. Give 'my word, hopelessly drunk. Poor fool...." + +"If my judgment is sound," Lanyard said, "this noble vessel will soon need +a new commander." + +"True. Quite true." The Prussian placed two aluminium cups upon the table +and half filled one with brandy, then brimmed it with champagne. "Try +that," he said thickly, "That will keep your tail up, my friend." + +"Many thanks," Lanyard protested, filling another cup with undiluted +champagne. "I prefer one thing at a time." + +"Unfortunate ... don't know what is good ... King's peg ... wonderful +drink. No matter. To 'new commander--prosit!" + +He drained his cup at a gulp. + +"To the new commander!" Lanyard echoed, and drank judiciously. +"Excellent.... How long can he last, do you think, at this pace?" + +"No telling--not long--too long for my liking. Shall I tell 'something?" +He filled his cup again, half and half, and sat down, his wicked, rat-like +face more than ever pale and repulsive. "Not 'whisper of this, mind--though +I think 'crew sometimes suspects: he's going mad!" + +"Not that Bavarian?" + +The lieutenant nodded wisely. "If 'knew him as I know him, 'never be +surprised, my friend. You think too much drink. Yes, but not entirely. He +keeps seeing things, hearing them, especially by night." + +"What sort of things?" + +"Faces." The Prussian licked his lips, glanced furtively over his shoulder, +and drank. "Dead faces, eyes eaten out, seaweed in their hair.... And +voices--he's forever hearing voices ... people trying to talk, 'can't +make him understand because 'mouths 'full of water, you know. But they +understand one another, keep discussing how to get at him.... He tells me +about it ... I tell you, it is Hell to hear him talk ... especially when +submerged, as last night. Then he hears them fumbling all over the hull +with their stumpy fingers, trying to find 'way in, talking about him. And +he tells me, and keeps insisting, till sometimes I seem to hear them, too. +But I don't. Before God, I don't! You don't believe I do, do you?" + +His eyes rolled wildly. + +"Why should you?" + +"Just so: why should I?" The lieutenant's accents rose to a shrill pitch. +"I have not his record ... still in training when he sent _Lusitania_ to +the bottom. Yes: it was he, second-in-command, in charge of torpedo tubes. +His own hand fired that torpedo...." + +He fell silent, staring moodily into his cup, perhaps thinking of the +number of torpedoes it had been his own lot to discharge upon errands of +slaughter. + +And the dead silence of the ship was made audible by a stealthy drip-drip +of water from the seams, and the furtive slaver of the tide on the outer +plates. + +A shiver ran through the body of the Prussian. He pulled himself together +with obvious effort, looked up with an uncertain grin, and passed a shaking +hand across his writhing lips. + +"All foolishness, of course, but 'gets on one's nerves ... constant +association with man like that.... 'Know what he's doing now, or was, when +I came away? Sitting up with doors and windows locked and blinds drawn, +drinking brandy neat. He can't sleep by night if sober, or without 'light +in the room. If he does, he knows they will get him ... people he hears +crawling up from the sea, slopping round the house, mumbling, whimpering in +the dark--" + +He broke off abruptly, with a whisper more dreadful than a +shriek--"_God_!"--and jumped to his feet, whipping the automatic from his +belt. + +A footfall sounded in one of the after compartments. Others followed. + +Someone was coming slowly down the alleyway, someone with dragging, heavy +feet. + +The lieutenant waited motionless, as one petrified with terror. + +The bulkhead doorway framed the figure of the commander. He paused there, +louring at his subaltern with haunted eyes ablaze in a face like parchment. + +"So!" he said, nodding. "As I thought. It is thus I find you, fraternising +with one who may be, for all we know, an enemy to the Fatherland. You +drunken, babbling fool! Get ashore!" His angry foot thumped the grating. +"Get ashore, and report yourself under arrest!" + +With no more warning than a strangled snarl, the lieutenant shot him +through the head. + + + + +XI + +UNDER THE ROSE + + +Vague stupefaction replaced the scowl upon the countenance of the +commander. He swayed, a hand faltering to his forehead, where dark blood +was beginning to well from a cleanly drilled puncture. Then he collapsed +completely, falling prone across the raised sill of the bulkhead opening. A +convulsive tremor shook savagely his huge frame. + +Thereafter he was quite still. + +The report of that one shot had reverberated stunningly within those narrow +walls of steel. Momentarily Lanyard looked to see the alarmed anchor watch +appear; so too, apparently, the lieutenant, who remained immobile, pistol +poised in a hand for the moment strangely steady, gaze fixed upon the mouth +of the alleyway. + +But through a long minute no other sounds were audible than that ceaseless +dripping from frames and seams, with that muted, terrible mouthing of +waters on the plates. + +Unable either to fathom or forecast the workings of the drink-maddened +mentality masked by that rat-like face, Lanyard waited with a hand covertly +grasping the automatic in his pocket. There was no telling; at any moment +that murderous mania might veer his way. And he was not content to die, not +yet, not in any event by the hand of a decadent little beast of a Boche. + +Slowly the arm of the lieutenant dropped, lowering the pistol till its +muzzle chattered on the top of the table: a noise that broke the spell upon +his senses. He looked down in dull brutish wonder, then roused and with a +gesture of horror let the weapon fall clattering. + +His glance shifting to the body of his commander, he started violently, +backing up against the plates to put all possible distance between himself +and his handiwork. His lips moved, framing phrases at first incoherent, +presently articulate in part: + +"... _done it at last!... Knew I must soon_...." + +Abruptly he looked up at Lanyard. + +"Bear witness," he cried: "I was provoked beyond human endurance. He +insulted me in your presence ... me!... that scum!" + +Lanyard said nothing, but met his gaze with a blank, non-committal stare, +under which the eyes of the lieutenant wavered and fell. + +Then with a start he realised anew the significance of that still figure at +his feet, and tried to shake some of the swagger back into his wretched, +fear-racked being. + +"A good job!" he muttered defiantly. "And you will stand by me, I know.... +Only there is nothing in that, of course, no justification possible before +a court martial. Even your testimony could not save me ... I am done for, +utterly...." + +He hung his head. Lanyard heard whispered words: "_degraded," "dishonour," +"firing squad_".... + +A chronometer in the central operating compartment tolled eight bells. + +With a sharp cry the lieutenant dropped to his knees. "He can't be dead!" +he shrilled. "It is all play-acting, to frighten me!" + +Frantically he sought to turn the body over. + +Lanyard's hand shot swiftly out, capturing the automatic on the table. With +rapid and sure gestures he extracted and pocketed the clip, drew back the +breech, ejecting into his palm the one shell in the barrel, and replaced +the weapon, all before the Prussian gave over his insane efforts to +resurrect the dead. + +"He is dead enough," he announced, eyeing Lanyard morosely--"beyond +helping.... Look here; are you with me or against me?" + +"Need you ask?" + +"I count on you, then. Good. I think we can cover this up." + +He checked and stood for a while lost in thought. + +"How?" Lanyard roused him. + +"Simply enough: I go on deck, send the watch ashore on some trumped-up +errand. They suspect nothing, thinking the commander and I have you in +charge. If they heard that shot, I will say one of us dropped a bottle +of champagne, and it exploded.... When they are gone, I bring the dory +alongside; and with your help it should be an easy matter to carry this +body up, weight it, row it out to the middle of the lagoon, dump it +overboard. Then we return. Our story is, the commander followed the anchor +watch ashore; if later he wandered off, got lost in the woods in his +alcoholic delirium, that is no affair of ours. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," said Lanyard with a look of fatuous innocence. "But how about +the water--is it deep enough?" + +The Prussian took no pains to dissemble his scorn of this question, +seemingly so witless. "To cover the body? Why, even here there is +sufficient depth at low tide for us to submerge completely, barring the +periscopes. And it is deeper yet in the middle." + +"Thanks," Lanyard replied meekly. + +"Have another drink? No?" The Prussian tossed off a half cupful of +undiluted brandy, and shuddered. "Then stop here. I'll be back in a--" + +"Half a minute." The lieutenant halted in the act of stepping across the +body. Lanyard levelled a hand at the automatic. "Do you mind taking that +with you? I have no desire to be found here with it and a dead man, should +anything prevent your return." + +With a sickly grimace the murderer snatched up the weapon, thrust it in its +holster, and hurriedly departed. + +Lanyard watched him pass through the alleyway and turn toward the companion +ladder, then followed quietly. + +As the lieutenant climbed out on deck, Lanyard ascended to the conning +tower and waited there, listening. He could not quite make out what was +said; but after a few brusque words of command two pair of boots rang on +the gangplank and thumped away down the stage. At the same time Lanyard let +himself noiselessly out through the hatch. + +As soon as his vision grew reconciled to the change from light to darkness, +he discovered the slender figure of the lieutenant skulking on tip-toe +after the retreating anchor watch; about midway on the landing stage, +however, he paused and bent over one of the piles, apparently fumbling with +the painter of a small boat moored in the black shadows below. + +At this Lanyard began to move along the deck, one by one working the +mooring lines clear of their cleats and dropping them gently overboard, +till but two were left to hold the U-boat in place. + +Throughout he kept watch upon the manoeuvres of the lieutenant--saw him +drop over the side of the stage, heard a thump of feet as he landed in a +boat, and a subsequent creak of oar-locks. + +The small boat was rounding the bows of the submarine when the adventurer +ducked back through conning tower to hold. + +He was standing where he had been left when the lieutenant came below. + +"It's all right," this last announced with shabby bravado as he stepped +over the body in the doorway. "We are rid of that damned watch for a time. +They won't return within half an hour at least. I have the dory moored +amidships. If we are lively, this dirty job will be over in no time at +all." + +Lanyard nodded. "I am ready." + +"No need to hurry--plenty of time for one more drink." The Prussian +splashed brandy into the cup, filling it to the brim. "And God knows I need +it!" + +Lanyard watched critically as, with head well back, he drained that +staggering dose of raw spirit gulp by gulp without once removing the cup +from his lips. No mortal man could drink like that and stand up under it: +it was now a mere question of time.... + +Hardly that: the hand of the murderer shook and wavered widely as he put +down the cup. For a moment he swayed with eyes fixed and glazing, features +visibly losing plasticity, then lurched forward, knocking the brandy bottle +to the floor, swung around a full half turn in blind effort to re-establish +equilibrium, fell backward upon the table, and lay racked from head to foot +with savage spasms, hands clawing empty air, chest labouring vainly to win +sufficient oxygen to combat the poison with which his system was saturated. + +Moving to his side, Lanyard laid a hand upon the left breast. The man's +heart was hammering his ribs with agonizing blows, at first rapid, by +degrees more slow and feeble. + +No power on earth could save him now: he had committed suicide as surely as +murder. + +Wasting not another glance or thought upon him Lanyard hurried aft to the +central operating room. + +The time he had spent there, an hour earlier, was by no means lost in +purposeless marvelling. He boasted a certain aptitude for mechanics, +perhaps legitimately inherited from that obscure origin of his, largely +fostered by the requirements of his craft; into the bargain, he had been +privileged ere now to gain some slight insight into the principles of +submersible operation. If obliged to work swiftly and in some instances +upon the advice of intuition rather than practical knowledge, he went not +unintelligently about his task, made few false moves. + +Turning first to the diving controls, he adjusted the hydroplanes to their +extreme downward inclination, then made the rounds of the vent valves, +opening all wide. With a sharp hissing and whistling the air from the +auxiliary tanks was driven inboard, and as Lanyard manipulated the wheels +operating the forward and aft groups of Kingston valves, to the hissing was +added the suck and gurgle of water flooding the main and auxiliary ballast +and adjusting tanks. + +Immediately the U-boat began to sink. Lanyard delayed only to close the +switches which controlled the electric motors. As their drone gained volume +he grasped the rifle and swarmed up the companion-ladder, passing through +the conning tower to deck with little or nothing to spare--with, in fact, +barely time to throw off the two mooring lines and jump into the small boat +before water, sweeping hungrily up over deck and bridge, began to cascade +through conning tower and torpedo hatchways. + +Constrained to cut the painter lest the dory be drawn down with the +fast-sinking submarine, he fitted oars to locks and put his back to them, +swinging the small boat hastily clear of whirlpools which formed as the +waves closed over the spot where the U-boat had rested. + +From first to last less than five minutes' activity had been needed for +the task of scotching this water-moccasin of the salt seas and putting its +keepers at the mercy of the country whose hospitality they had too long +abused. + +Well content, after a little, Lanyard lay on his oars and contemplated with +much interest what the night permitted to be visible: the landing stage, no +more than a dark, vague mass in the darkness; the land picked out with but +few lights, mainly at windows of the base buildings, painting dim ribbons +upon the polished floor of the lagoon. + +Methodically these were eclipsed as a moving figure passed before them. + +Listening intently, Lanyard could distinguish the slow footfalls of an +unsuspecting sentry--no other sounds, more than gentle voices of the night: +murmurs of blind wavelets, the plaintive whisper of a little breeze belated +amid the tree-tops of that dark forest, and a slow, weary soughing of +swells upon the distant ocean shore. + +Perceiving as yet not the slightest indication of an alarm ashore, Lanyard +ventured to continue rowing, but with utmost caution, lifting and dipping +his blades as gingerly as though they were fashioned of brittle glass, and +for want of a better guide keeping the stern of the dory square to the +shank of the T-stage. + +In time the bows grounded lightly on sand. The melancholy voice of the sea +now seemed a heavier sighing in the stillness. He pushed off and rowed on +parallel with a dark shore line, so close in that his starboard oar touched +bottom at each stroke. + +At intervals he paused and rested, striving vainly to garner some clue to +his bearings. Inexorably the blackness forbade that. He might have failed +ere dawn to grope a way out of that trap had not the disappearance of the +submarine been discovered within the hour. + +A sudden clamour rose in the quarter of the landing stage, first one great +shout of dismay, then two voices bellowing together, then others. Several +rifle-shots were fired in the air. More lights broke out in windows ashore. +Many feet drummed resoundingly upon the stage, and the confusion of voices +attained a pitch of wild, hysteric uproar. Of a sudden a flare was lighted +and tossed far out upon the bosom of the lagoon. + +Surprised by that sharp and merciless blue glare, Lanyard instinctively +shipped oars and picked up the rifle. He could see so clearly that +huddle of figures upon the head of the landing stage that he confidently +apprehended being fired upon at any moment; but minutes lengthened and +he was not. Either the Germans were looking for bigger game than a dory +adrift, or the dazzling flare hindered more than aided their vision. + +At length persuaded that he had not been detected, Lanyard put aside the +rifle and resumed the oars. Now his course was made beautifully clear to +him: the blue light showed him that outlet to the sea which he sought +within a hundred yards' distance. + +Presently the flare began to wane. It was not renewed. Altogether unseen, +unsuspected, Lanyard swung the dory into the breach, and drove it seaward +with all his might. + +Swiftly the lagoon was shut out by narrow closing banks. The blue glare +died out behind a black profile of rounded dunes. Lanyard turned the bow +eastward, rowing broadside to the shore. + +After something more than an hour of this mode of progress, he struck in +toward the beach, disembarked in ankle-deep waters, slung the rifle over +his shoulder by its strap and, pushing the dory off, abandoned it to the +whim of the sea. + +Then again he set his face to the east, following the contour of the beach +just within the wash of the tide: thereby making sure that there should +be no trail of footprints in the sand to guide a possible pursuit in the +morning. + +The rising sun found him purposefully splashing on, weary but enheartened +by the discovery that he had left behind the more thickly wooded section of +the island. + +Presently, turning in to the dry beach for the first time, he climbed +to the summit of a dune somewhat higher than its fellows, and took +observations, finding that he had come near to the eastern extremity of the +island. + +At some distance to his right a wagon road, faintly rutted in sand and +overgrown with beach grass, struck inland. + +Following this at a venture, he came, at about eight o'clock, upon the +outskirts of a waterside community. + +Before proceeding he hid the magazine rifle in a thicket, then made a wide +detour, and picked up a roadway which entered the village from the north. + +If his disreputable appearance was calculated to excite comment, readiness +in disbursing money to remedy such shortcomings made amends for Lanyard's +taciturnity. Within two hours, shaved, bathed, and inconspicuously dressed +in a cheap suit of ready-made clothing, he was breakfasting famously upon +the plain fare of a commercial tavern. + +The town, he learned, was the one-time important whaling port of Edgartown. +He would be able to leave for the mainland on a ferry steamer sailing early +in the afternoon. + +Ten minutes before going abroad he filed a long telegram in code addressed +to the head of the British Secret Service in New York.... + +Consequences manifold and various ensued. + +When the telegram had been delivered and decoded--both transactions being +marked by reasonable promptitude--the head of the British Secret Service +in New York called the British Embassy in Washington on the long distance +telephone. + +Shortly thereafter an attache of the British Embassy jumped into a +motor-car and had himself driven to one of the cardinal departments of the +Federal Government. + +When he had kicked his heels in an antechamber upward of an hour, he was +received, affably enough, by the head of the department, a smug, open-faced +gentleman whose mood was largely preoccupied with illusions of grandeur, +who was, in short, interested far more in considering how splendid it was +to be himself than in hearing about any mare's-nest of a German U-boat base +on the south shore of Martha's Vineyard. + +He was, however, indulgent enough to promise to give the matter his +distinguished consideration in due course. + +He even went so far as to have his secretary make a note of what alleged +information this young Englishman had to impart. + +During the night he chanced to wake up and recall the matter, and concluded +that, all things considered, it would do no harm to give the United States +Navy a little amusement and exercise, even if it should turn out that the +rumour of this submarine base was a canard. + +So, the next morning, he went to his desk some time before noon, and issued +a lot of orders. One of them had to do with the necessity for absolute +secrecy. + +During the day several minor officials of the department might have been, +and indeed were, observed going about their business with painfully +tight-lipped expressions. + +Also many messages were transmitted by wireless, telephone, and telegraph, +to various persons charged with the defense of the Atlantic Coast; some of +these were code messages, some were not. + +That same night a great forest fire sprang up on the south shore of +Martha's Vineyard, both preceded and accompanied by a series of heavy +explosions. + +The first United States vessel to reach the lagoon found only charred +remains of a landing stage and several buildings and, at the bottom of the +lagoon, an incoherent mass of wreckage, a twisted and shattered chaos of +steel plates and framework that might possibly have been a perfectly sound +submarine, though sunken, had somebody not been warned in ample time +to permit its destruction through the agency of trinitrotoluene, that +enormously efficient modern explosive nicknamed by British military and +naval experts "T.N.T.," and by the Germans "Trotyl." + + + + +XII + +RESURRECTION + + +The early editions of those New York evening newspapers which Lanyard +purchased in Providence, when he changed trains there en route from New +Bedford to New York, carried multi-column and most picturesque accounts of +the _Assyrian_ disaster. + +But the whole truth was in none. + +Lanyard laid aside the last paper privately satisfied that, for no-doubt +praiseworthy reasons of its own, Washington had seen fit to dictate the +suppression of a number of extremely pertinent circumstances and facts +which could hardly have escaped governmental knowledge. + +Already, one inferred, a sort of censorship was at work, an effective if +comparatively modest precursor to that noble volunteer committee which was +presently with touching spontaneity to fasten itself upon an astonished +Ship of State before it could gather enough way to escape such cirripede +attachments. + +Presumably it was not thought wise to disconcert a great people, in the +complacence of its awakening to the fact that it was remotely at war with +the Hun, with information that a Boche submersible was, or of late had +been, operating in the neighbourhood of Nantucket. + +Unanimously the sinking of the _Assyrian_ was ascribed to an internal +explosion of unknown origin. No paper hinted that German secret agents +might possibly have figured incogniti among her passengers. There was +mention neither of the flare which had burned on her after deck to make +the _Assyrian_ a conspicuous target in the night, nor of any of the other +untoward events which had led up to the explosion. Nothing whatever +was said of the shot fired at the submerging U-boat by a United States +torpedo-boat destroyer speeding to the rescue. + +Still, the bare facts alone were sufficiently appalling. Reading what had +been permitted to gain publication, Lanyard experienced a qualm of horror +together with the thought that, even had he drowned as he had expected to +drown, such a fate had almost been preferable to participation in those +awful ten minutes precipitated by that pale messenger of death which had so +narrowly missed Lanyard himself as he rested on the bosom of the sea. + +Within ten minutes after receiving her coup de grace the _Assyrian_ had +gone under; barely that much time had been permitted a passenger list of +seventy-two and a personnel of nearly three hundred souls in which to rouse +from dreams of security and take to the lifeboats. + +Thanks to the frenzied haste compelled by the swift settling of the ship, +more than one boat had been capsized. Others had been sunk--literally +driven under--by masses of humanity cascading into them from slanting +decks. Others, again, had never been launched at all. + +The utmost efforts of the destroyer, fortuitously so near at hand, had +served to rescue but thirty-one passengers and one hundred and eighty of +the crew. + +In the list of survivors Lanyard found these names: + + Becker, Julius--New York + Brooke, Cecelia--London + Crane, Robert T.--New York + Dressier, Emil--Geneva + O'Reilly, Edmund--Detroit + Putnam, Bartlett--Philadelphia + Velasco, Arturo--Buenos Aires + +Among the injured, Lieutenant Lionel Thackeray, D.S.O., was listed as +suffering from concussion of the brain, said to have been contracted +through a fall while attempting to aid the launching of a lifeboat. + +In the long roster of the drowned these names appeared: + + Bartholomew, Archer--London + Duchemin, Andre--Paris + Von Harden, Baron Gustav--Amsterdam + Osborne, Captain E. W.--London + +Of all the officers, Mr. Sherry was a solitary survivor, fished out of the +sea after going down with his ship. + +No list boasted the name "Karl." + +Lacking accommodations for the rescued, it was stated, the destroyer had +summoned by wireless the east-bound freight steamship _Saratoga_, which had +trans-shipped the unfortunates and turned back to New York.... + +Throughout the best part of that journey from Providence to New York +Lanyard sat blankly staring into the black mirror of the window beside +his chair, revolving schemes for his immediate future in the light of +information derived, indirectly as much as directly, from these newspaper +stories. + +Retrospective consideration of that voyage left little room for doubt that +the designs of the German agents had been thoughtfully matured. They had +been quiet enough between their first stroke in the dark and their last, +between the burglary of Cecelia Brooke's stateroom the first night out and +those murderous attacks on Bartholomew and Thackeray. Unquestionably, +had they bided their time pending that hour when, according to their +information, the submersible would be off Nantucket, awaiting their signal +to sink the _Assyrian_--a signal which would never have been given had +their plans proved successful, had they not made the ship too hot to hold +them, and finally had they not made every provision for their own escape +when the ship went down. + +Lanyard was confident that all of their company had been warned to hold +themselves ready, and consequently had come off scot free--all, that is, +save that victim of treachery, the unhappy Baron von Harden. + +If the number of that group which Lanyard had selected as comprising a +majority of his enemies, those nine who had discussed the Lone Wolf in the +smoking room, was now reduced to five--Becker, Dressier, O'Reilly, Putnam, +and Velasco--or four, eliminating Putnam, of whose loyalty there could be +no question--Lanyard still had no means of knowing how many confederates +among the other passengers these four might not have had. + +And even four men who appreciated what peril to their plans inhered in the +Lone Wolf, even four made a ponderable array of desperate enemies to have +at large in New York, apt to be encountered at any corner, apt at any time +to espy and recognise him without his knowledge. + +This situation imposed upon him two major tasks of immediate moment: he +must hunt down those four one by one and either satisfy himself as to their +innocence of harmful intent or put them permanently _hors de combat_; and +he must extinguish utterly, once and for all time, that amiable personality +whose brief span had been restricted to the decks of the _Assyrian_, +Monsieur Andre Duchemin. + +That one must be buried deep, beyond all peradventure of involuntary +resurrection. + +Fortunately the last step toward the positive metamorphosis indicated had +been taken that very morning, when the Gallic beard of Monsieur Duchemin +was erased by the razor of a New England barber, whose shears had likewise +eradicated every trace of a Continental mode of hair-dressing. There +remained about Lanyard little to remind of Andre Duchemin but his eyes; and +the look of one's eyes, as every good actor knows, is something far more +easy to disguise than is commonly believed. + +But it was hardly in human nature not to mourn the untimely demise of so +useful a body, one who carried such beautiful credentials and serviceable +letters of introduction, whose character boasted so much charm with a +solitary fault--too facile vulnerability to the prying eyes of those to +whom Paris meant those days and social strata in which Michael Lanyard +had moved and had his being. Witness--according to Crane--the demoniac +cleverness of the Brazilian in unmasking the Duchemin incognito. + +Suspicion was taking form in Lanyard's reflections that he had paid far +too little attention to Senor Arturo Velasco of Buenos Aires, whose +avowed avocation of amateur criminologist might easily be synonymous with +interests much less innocuous. + +Or why had Velasco been so quick to communicate recognition of Lanyard to +an employee of the United States Secret Service? + +For that matter, why had he felt called so publicly to descant upon the +natural history of the Lone Wolf? In order to focus upon that one the +attentions of his enemies? Or to put him on guard? + +It was altogether perplexing. Was one to esteem Velasco friend or foe? + +Lanyard could comfort himself only with the promise he should one day know, +and that without undue delay. + +Alighting in Grand Central Terminus late at night, he made his way to +Forty-second Street and there, in the staring headlines of a "Late Extra," +read the news that the steamship _Saratoga_ had suffered a crippling +engine-room accident and was limping slowly toward port, still something +like eighteen hours out. + +Wondering if it were presumption to construe this as an omen that the stars +in their courses fought for him, Lanyard went west to Broadway afoot, all +the way beset with a sense of incredulity; it was difficult to believe that +he was himself, alive and at large in this city of wonder and space, where +people moved at leisure and without fear on broad streets that resembled +deep-bitten channels for rivers of light. He was all too wont with nights +of dread and trembling, with the mediaeval gloom that enwrapped the cities +of Europe by night, their grim black streets desolate but for a few, +infrequent, scurrying shapes of fright.... While here the very beggars +walked with heads unbowed, and men and women of happier estate laughed and +played and made love lightly in the scampering taxis that whisked them +homeward from restaurants of the feverish midnight. + +A people at war, actually at grips with the Blond Beast, arrayed to +defend itself and all humanity against conquest by that loathsome incubus +incarnate, a people heedless, carefree, irresponsible, refusing to credit +its peril.... + +Here and there a recruiting poster, down the broad reaches of Fifth Avenue +a display of bunting, no other hint of war-time spirit and gravity.... + +Longacre Square, a weltering lake of kaleidoscopic radiance, even at this +late hour thronged with carnival crowds, not one note of sobriety in the +night.... + +Lanyard lifted a wondering gaze to the livid sky whose far, clear stars +were paled and shamed by the up-flung glare, like eyes of innocence peering +down into a pit of hell. + +Inscrutable! + +Yet one could hardly be numb to the subtle, heady intoxication of those +cool, immaculate, sea-sweet airs which swept the streets, instilling +self-confidence and lightness of spirit even in heads shadowed with the woe +of war-worn Europe. + +Lanyard had not crossed the Avenue before he found himself walking with a +brisker stride, holding his own head high.... + +On impulse, despite the lateness of the hour, albeit with misgivings +justified in the issue, he hailed a taxicab and had himself driven to the +headquarters of the British Secret Service in America, an unostentatious +dwelling on the northwest corner of West End Avenue at Ninety-fifth Street. + +Here a civil footman answered the door and Lanyard's enquiries with the +information that Colonel Stanistreet had unexpectedly been called out +of town and would not return before evening of the next day, while his +secretary, Mr. Blensop, had gone to a play and might not come home till all +hours. + +More impatient than disappointed, Lanyard climbed back into his cab, and in +consequence of consultation with its friendly minded chauffeur, eventually +put up for the night in an Eighth Avenue hotel of the class that made +Senator Raines famous, a hostelry brazenly proclaiming accommodations "for +gentlemen only," whereas it offered entertainment for both man and beast +and catered rather more to beast than to man. + +However, it served; it was inconspicuous and made no demands upon a shabby +traveller sans luggage, more than payment in advance. + +Early abroad, Lanyard breakfasted with attention fixed to the advertising +columns of the _Herald_, and by mid-morning was established as sub-tenant +of a furnished bachelor apartment on Fifty-eighth Street near Seventh +Avenue, a tiny nest of few rooms on the street level, with entrances from +both the general lobby and the street direct: an admirable arrangement for +one who might choose to come and go without supervision or challenge. + +Lacking local references as to his character, Lanyard was obliged to pay +three months' rent in advance in addition to making a substantial deposit +to cover possible damage to the furnishings. + +His name, a spur-of-the-moment selection, was recorded in the lease as +Anthony Ember. + +At noon he brought to his lodgings two trunks salvaged from a storage +warehouse wherein they had been deposited more than three years since, on +the eve of his flight with his family from America, an affair of haste and +secrecy forbidding the handicap of heavy impedimenta. + +Thus Lanyard became once more possessor of a tolerably comprehensive +wardrobe. + +But, those trunks released more than his personal belongings; intermingled +were possessions that had been his wife's and his boy's. As he unpacked, +memories peopled those perfunctorily luxurious lodgings of the transient +with melancholy ghosts as sweet and sad as lavender and rue. + +For hours on end the man sat idle, head bowed down, hands plucking +aimlessly at small broidered garments. + +And if in the sweep and turmoil of late events he seemed to have forgotten +for a little that feud which had brought him overseas, he roused from this +brief interlude of saddened dreaming with the iron of deadly purpose newly +entered into his soul, and in his heart one dominant thought, that now his +hour with Ekstrom could not, must not, be long deferred. + +In the street there rose an uproar of inhuman bawling. Lanyard went to the +private door, hailed one of the husky authors of the din, an itinerant +news-vendor, and disbursed a nickel coin for one cent's worth of spushul +uxtry and four cents' worth of howling impudence. + +He found no more of interest in the newspaper than the information that the +_Saratoga_ had been sighted off Fire Island and was expected to dock in New +York not later than eight o'clock that night. + +This, however, was acceptable reading. Lanyard had work to do which were +better done before "Karl" and his crew found opportunity to communicate +directly with their collaborators ashore, work which it were unwise +to initiate before nightfall lent a cloak of shadows to hoodwink the +ever-possible adventitious German spy. + +Nor was he so fatuous as to fancy it would profit him to call before nine +o'clock at the house on West End Avenue. No earlier might he hope to find +Colonel the Honourable George Fleetwood-Stanistreet near the end of his +dinner, and so in a mood approachable and receptive. + +But there could be no harm in reconnaissance by daylight. + +He whiled away the latter part of the afternoon in taxicabs, by dint of +frequent changes contriving in the most casual fashion imaginable to pass +the Seventy-ninth Street branch of the Wilhelmstrasse no less than four +times. + +Little rewarded these tactics other than a fairly accurate mental +photograph of the building and its situation--and a growing suspicion that +the United States Government had profited nothing by England's lessons +of early war days in respect of the one way to cope with resident enemy +aliens. + +The house stood upon a corner, occupying half of an avenue block--the +northern half of which was the site of a towering apartment house in +course of construction--and loomed over its lesser neighbours a monumental +monstrosity of architecture, as formidable as a fortress, its lower tiers +of windows barred with iron, substantial iron grilles ready to bar its +main entrance, even heavier gates guarding the carriage court in the +side street. In all a stronghold not easy for the most accomplished +house-breaker to force; yet the heart of it was Lanyard's goal; for there, +he believed, Ekstrom (under whatever _nom de guerre_) lay hidden, or if not +Ekstrom, at least a clear lead to his whereabouts. + +Certainly that one could not be far from the powerful wireless station +secretly maintained on the roof of this weird jumble of architectural +periods, its aerials cunningly hidden in the crowning atrocity of its +minaret: a station reputedly so powerful that it could receive Berlin's +nightly outgivings of news and orders, and, in emergency, transmit them to +other secret stations in Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela. + +Yet the shrewdest scrutiny of eyes trained to detect police agents at +sight, however well disguised, failed to espy one sign of any sort of +espionage upon this nest of rattlesnakes. + +Apparently its tenants came and went as they willed, untroubled by and +contemptuous of governmental surveillance. + +A handsome limousine car pulled up at its carriage block as Lanyard drove +by, one time, and a pretty woman, exquisitely gowned, alighted and was +welcomed by hospitable front doors that opened before she could ring: a +woman Lanyard knew as one of the most daring, diabolically clever, and +unscrupulous creatures of the Wilhelmstrasse, one whose life would not have +been worth an hour's purchase had she ventured to show herself in Paris, +London, or Petrograd at any time since the outbreak of the war. + +He drove on, deep in amaze. + +Indications were not wanting, on the other hand, that enemy spies +maintained close watch upon the movements of those who frequented the house +on West End Avenue. A German agent whom Lanyard knew by sight was strolling +by as his taxi rounded its corner and swung on down toward Riverside Drive. + +This more modest residence possessed a brick-walled garden at the back, on +the Ninety-fifth Street side. And if the top of the wall was crusted with +broken glass in a fashion truly British, it had a door, and the door a +lock. And Lanyard made a note thereon. + +And when he went home to dress for dinner, he opened up the false bottom +of one of his trunks and selected from a store of cloth-wrapped bundles +therein one which contained a small bunch of innocent-looking keys whose +true _raison d'etre_ was anything in the world but guileless. + +Later he did himself very well at Delmonico's, enjoying for the first time +in many years a well-balanced dinner faultlessly cooked and served amid +quiet surroundings that carried memory back half a decade to the Paris that +was, the Paris that nevermore will be.... + +At nine precisely he paid off a taxicab at the corner of Ninety-fifth +Street. + +While waiting on the doorstep of the corner house, he raked the street +right and left with searching glances, and was somewhat reassured. +Apparently he called at an hour when the Boche pickets were off duty; at +the moment there was no pedestrian visible within a block's distance +on either hand, nobody that he could see skulked in the areas of the +old-fashioned brownstone houses across the way. + +The neighbourhood was, indeed, quiet even for an upper West Side +residential quarter. A block over to the east Broadway was strident in the +flood of its nocturnal traffic; a like distance to the west Riverside Drive +hummed with pleasure cars taking advantage of the first bland night of that +belated spring. But here, now that the taxi had wheeled away, there was +never a car in sight, nor even a strolling brace of sidewalk lovers. + +The door opened, revealing the same footman. + +"Colonel Stanistreet? I will see, sir." + +Lanyard entered. + +"If you will be kind enough to be seated," the footman suggested, +indicating a small waiting room. "And what name shall I say?" + +It had been Lanyard's intention to have himself announced simply as the +author of that telegram from Edgartown. Obscure impulse made him change his +mind, some premonition so tenuous as to defy analysis. + +"Mr. Anthony Ember." + +"Thank you, sir." + +After a little the footman returned. + +"If you will come this way, sir...." + +He led toward the back of the house, introducing Lanyard to a spacious +apartment, a library uncommonly well furnished, rather more than +comfortably yet without a trace of ostentation in its complete luxury, a +warm room, a room intimately lived in, a room, in short, characteristically +British in atmosphere. + +Waist-high bookcases lined the walls, broken on the right by a cheerful +fireplace with a grate of glowing cannel coal, in front of it a great club +lounge upholstered, like all the chairs, in well-used leather. Opposite the +chimney-piece, a handsome thing in carved oak, a door was draped with a +curtain that swung with it. In the back of the room two long and wide +French windows stood open to the night, beyond them that garden whose +wall had attracted Lanyard's attention. There were a number of paintings, +portraits for the most part, heavily framed, with overhead picture-lights. +In the middle of the room was a table-desk, broad and long, supporting a +shaded reading lamp. On the far side of the table a young man sat writing, +with several dockets of papers arranged before him. + +As Lanyard entered, this one put down his pen, pushed back his chair, and +came round the table: a tallish, well-made young man, dressed a shade too +foppishly in spite of an unceremonious dinner coat, his manner assured, +amiable, unconstrained, perhaps a little over-tolerant. + +"Mr. Ember, I believe?" he said in a voice studiously musical. + +"Yes," Lanyard replied, vaguely annoyed with himself because of an +unreasoning resentment of this musical quality. "Mr. Blensop?" + +"I am Mr. Blensop," that one admitted gracefully. "And how may I have the +pleasure of being of service?" + +He waved a hand toward an easy chair beside the table, and resumed his own. +But Lanyard hesitated. + +"I wished to see Colonel Stanistreet." + +Mr. Blensop looked up with an indulgent smile. His face was round and +smooth but for a perfectly docile little moustache, his lips full and red, +his nose delicately chiselled; but his eyes, though large, were set cannily +close together. + +"Colonel Stanistreet is unfortunately not at home. I am his secretary." + +"Yes," said Lanyard, still standing. "In that case I'd be glad if you would +be good enough to make an appointment for me with Colonel Stanistreet." + +"I am afraid he will not be home till very late to-night, but--" + +"Then to-morrow?" + +Mr. Blensop smiled patiently. "Colonel Stanistreet is a very busy man," he +uttered melodiously. "If you could let me know something about the nature +of your business...." + +"It is the King's," said Lanyard bluntly. + +The secretary went so far as to betray well-bred surprise. "You are an +Englishman, Mr. Ember?" + +"Yes." + +And for all he knew to the contrary, so Lanyard was. + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet's secretary," the young man again suggested +hopefully. + +"That is precisely why I ask you to make an appointment for me with your +employer," Lanyard retorted politely. + +"You won't say what you wish to see him about?" + +A trace of asperity marred the music of those tones; Mr. Blensop further +indicated distaste of the innuendo inherent in Lanyard's use of the word +"employer" by delicately wrinkling his nose. + +"I am sorry," Lanyard replied sufficiently. + +The door behind him opened, and the footman intruded. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop...." + +"Yes, Walker?" + +The servant advanced to the table and proffered a visiting card on a tray. +Mr. Blensop took it, arched pencilled brows over it. + +"To see me, Walker?" + +"The gentleman asked for Colonel Stanistreet, sir." + +"H'm.... You may show him in when I ring." + +The footman retired. Mr. Blensop looked up brightly, bending the card with +nervous fingers. + +"You were saying your business was...?" + +"I was not," Lanyard replied with disarming good humour. "I'm afraid that +is something much too important and confidential to reveal even to Colonel +Stanistreet's secretary, if you don't mind my saying so." + +Mr. Blensop did mind, and betrayed vexation with an impatient little +gesture which caused the card to fly from his fingers and fall face +uppermost on the table. Almost instantly he recovered it, but not before +Lanyard had read the name it bore. + +"Of course not," said the secretary pleasantly, rising. "But you understand +my instructions are rigid ... I'm sorry." + +"You refuse me the appointment?" + +"Unless you can give me an inkling of your business--or perhaps bring a +letter of introduction." + +"I can do neither, Mr. Blensop," said Lanyard earnestly. "I have +information of the gravest moment to communicate to the head of the British +Secret Service in this country." + +The secretary looked startled. "What makes you think Colonel Stanistreet is +connected with the British Secret Service?" + +"I don't think so; I know it." + +After a moment of hesitation Mr. Blensop yielded graciously. "If you can +come back at nine to-morrow morning, Mr. Ember, I'll do my best to persuade +Colonel Stanistreet--" + +"I repeat, my business is of the most pressing nature. Can't you arrange +for me to see your employer to-night?" + +"It is utterly impossible." + +Lanyard accepted defeat with a bow. + +"To-morrow at nine, then," he said, turning toward the door by which he had +entered. + +"At nine," said Mr. Blensop, generous in triumph. "But do you mind going +out this way?" + +He moved toward the curtained door opposite the chimney-piece. Lanyard +paused, shrugged, and followed. Mr. Blensop opened the door, disclosing a +vista of Ninety-fifth Street. + +"Thank _you_, Mr. Ember. _Good_-night," he intoned. + +The door closed with the click of a spring latch. + +Lanyard stood alone in the street, looking swiftly this way and that, his +hand closing upon that little bunch of keys in his pocket, his humour +lawless. + +For the name inscribed on that card which Mr. Blensop had so carelessly +dropped was one to fill Lanyard with consuming anxiety for better +acquaintance with its present wearer. + +Written in pencil, with all the individual angularity of French +chirography, the name was Andre Duchemin. + + + + +XIII + +REINCARNATION + + +It took a little time and patience but, on his third essay, Lanyard found +a key which agreed with the lock. He permitted himself a sigh of relief; +Ninety-fifth Street was bare, the door set flush with the outside of the +wall afforded no concealment to the trespasser, while the direct light of a +street lamp at the corner made his lonely figure uncomfortably conspicuous. + +Apparently, however, he had not been observed. + +Gently pushing the door open, he slipped in, as gently closed it, then for +a full minute stood stirless, spying out the lay of the land. + +Fitting precisely his anticipations, the garden discovered a fine English +flavour; it was well-kept, modest, fragrant and, best of all, quite dark, +especially so in the shadow of the street wall. Only a glimmer of starlight +enabled him to pick out the course of a pebbled footpath. A border of deep +turf between this and the wall muffled his footsteps as he moved toward the +back of the house. + +The library windows, deeply recessed, opened on a low, broad stoop of +concrete, with a pergola effect above, and a few wicker pieces upon a grass +mat underfoot. + +Noiselessly Lanyard stepped across the low sill and paused in the cover of +heavy draperies, commanding a tolerably full view of the library if one +somewhat unsatisfactory, since the light within was by no means bright. +Still, this circumstance had its advantages for him; with his dark topcoat +buttoned to the throat and its collar turned up to hide his linen, he was +confident he would not be detected unless he gave his presence away by an +abrupt movement--something which the Lone Wolf never made. + +At the moment Mr. Blensop seemed to be engaged in the surprising occupation +of discoursing upon art to his caller. + +The latter occupied that chair which Lanyard had refused, on the far side +of the table. Thus placed, the lamplight masked more than revealed him, +throwing a dull glare into Lanyard's eyes. His man sat in a pose of earnest +attention, bending forward a trifle to follow the exposition of Mr. +Blensop, who stood beneath a portrait on the wall between the chimney-piece +and the windows, his attitude incurably graceful, a hand on the switch +controlling the picture-light. Apparently he had just finished speaking, +for he paused, looking toward his guest with a quiet and intimate smile as +he turned off the light. + +"And that's all there is to it," he declared, moving back to the table. + +"I see," said the other thoughtfully. + +Lanyard felt himself start almost uncontrollably: rage swept through him, +storming brain and body, like a black squall over a hill-bound lake. For +the moment he could neither see or hear clearly nor think coherently. + +For the voice of this latest incarnation of Andre Duchemin was the voice of +"Karl." + +When the tumult of his senses subsided he heard Blensop saying, "I'll +write it out for you," and saw him pick up a pad and pencil and jot down a +memorandum. + +"There you are," he added, ripping off the sheet and passing it across the +table. "Now you can't go wrong." + +"I precious seldom do," his caller commented drily. + +"I think--" Blensop began, and checked sharply as the man Walker came into +the room. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop--" + +There was an accent of impatience in those beautifully modulated tones: +"Well, what is it now?" + +"A lady to see you, sir." + +Blensop took the card from the proffered salver. "Never heard of her," he +announced brusquely at a glance. "She asked for Colonel Stanistreet or for +me?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, sir. But when I said he was not at home, she asked to +see his secretary." + +"Any idea what she wants?" + +"She didn't say, sir--but she seemed much distressed." + +"They always are. H'm.... Young and good-looking?" + +"Quite, sir." + +"Dessay I may as well see her," said Mr. Blensop wearily. "Show her in when +I ring." + +Walker shut himself out of the room. + +"It's just as well," Blensop added to his caller. "You understand, my clear +fellow--?" + +"Assuredly." The man got up; but Blensop contrived exasperatingly to keep +between him and the windows. "I'm to be back at midnight?" + +"Twelve sharp; you'll be sure to find him here then. Mind leaving by this +emergency exit?" + +"Not in the least." + +"Then _good_-night, my dear Monsieur Duchemin!" + +Was there a hint of irony in Blensop's employment of that style? Lanyard +half fancied there was, but did not linger to analyse the impression. +Already the secretary had opened the side door. + +In a bound Lanyard cleared the stoop, then ran back to the door in the +wall. But with all his quickness he was all too slow; already, as he +emerged to Ninety-fifth Street, his quarry was rounding the Avenue corner. + +Defiant of discretion, Lanyard gave chase at speed but, though he had not +thirty yards to cover, again was baffled by the swiftness with which "Karl" +got about. + +He had still some distance to go when the peace of the quarter was +shattered by a door that slammed like a pistol shot, and with roaring +motor and grinding gears a cab swung away from the curb in front of the +Stanistreet residence and tore off down the Avenue. + +Swearing petulantly in his disappointment, Lanyard pulled up on the corner. +The number on the license plate was plainly revealed as the vehicle showed +its back to the street lamp. But what good was that to him? He memorised +it mechanically, in mutinous appreciation of the fact that the taxi was +setting a pace with which he could not hope to compete afoot. + +The rumble of another motor-car caught his ear, and he looked round +eagerly. A second taxicab--undoubtedly that which had brought the young +woman now presumably closeted with Mr. Blensop--was moving up into the +place vacated by the first. + +In two strides Lanyard was at its side. + +"Follow that taxi!" he cried--"number seventy-six, three-eighty-five. Don't +lose sight of it, but don't pass it--don't let them know we're following!" + +"Engaged," the driver growled. + +"Hang your engagement! Here"--Lanyard pressed a golden eagle into the +fellow's palm--"there will be another of those if you do as I say!" + +"Le's go!" the driver agreed with resignation. + +If the cab was moving before Lanyard could hop in and shut the door, the +other had already established a killing lead; and though Lanyard's man +demonstrated characteristic contempt for municipal regulations governing +the speed of motor-driven vehicles, and racketed his own madly down the +Avenue, he was wholly helpless to do more than keep the tail-lamp of the +first in sight. + +More than once that dull red eye seemed sardonically to wink. + +Still, Lanyard did not think "Karl" knew he was pursued. His conveyance had +passed the corner before Lanyard emerged from the side street. There being +no reason that Lanyard knew of why the spy should believe himself under +suspicion, his haste seemed most probably due to natural desire to avoid +adventitious recognition, coupled with, no doubt, other urgent business. + +At Seventy-second Street the chase turned east, with Lanyard two blocks +behind, and for a few agonizing moments was altogether lost to him. But at +Broadway the tide of southbound traffic hindered it momentarily, and it +swung into that stream with its pursuer only a block astern. + +Thereafter through a ride of another mile and a half, the distance between +the two was augmented or abbreviated arbitrarily by the rules of the road. + +At one time less than two cab-lengths separated them; then a Ford, driven +Fordishly, wandered vaguely out of a crosstown street and hesitated in the +middle of the thoroughfare with precisely the air of a staring yokel on +a first visit to the city; and Lanyard's driver slammed on the emergency +brake barely in time to escape committing involuntary but justifiable +flivvercide. + +When he was able once more to throw the gears into high, the chase was a +long block ahead. + +They were entering Longacre Square before he made up that loss. + +And at Forty-fourth Street, again, a stream of east-bound cars edged in +between the two, reducing Lanyard's driver to the verge of gibbering +lunacy. + +A car resembling "Karl's" was crossing Broadway at Forty-second Street when +Lanyard was still on Seventh Avenue north of the Times Building. + +But only a minute later his driver pulled up in front of the Hotel +Knickerbocker, and Lanyard, peering through the forward window, saw the +number 76-385 on the license plate of a taxicab drawing away, empty, from +the curb beneath the hotel canopy. + +He tossed the second gold piece to the driver as his feet touched the +sidewalk, and shouldered through a cluster of men and women at the main +entrance to the lobby. + +That rendezvous of Broadway was fairly thronged despite the slack +mid-evening hour, between the dinner and the supper crushes; but Lanyard +reviewed in vain the little knots of guests and loungers; if "Karl" were +among them, he was nobody whom Lanyard had learned to know by sight on +board the _Assyrian_. + +With as little success he searched unobtrusively all public rooms on the +main floor. + +It was, of course, both possible and probable that "Karl," himself a guest +of the hotel, had crossed directly to the elevators and been whisked aloft +to his room. + +With this in mind, Lanyard paused at the desk, asked permission to examine +the register and, being accommodated, was somewhat consoled; if his chase +had failed of its immediate objective, it now proved not altogether +fruitless. A majority of the _Assyrian_ survivors seemed to have elected to +stop at the Knickerbocker. One after another Lanyard, scanning the entries, +found these names: + + Edmund O'Reilly--Detroit + Arturo Velasco--Buenos Aires + Bartlett Putnam--Philadelphia + Cecelia Brooke--London + Emil Dressier--Geneve + +Half inclined to commit the imprudence of sending a name up to Miss +Brooke--any name but Andre Duchemin, Michael Lanyard, or Anthony +Ember--together with a message artfully worded to fix her interest without +giving comfort to the enemy, should it chance to go astray, the adventurer +hesitated by the desk; and of a sudden was satisfied that such a move would +be not only injudicious but waste of time; for, now that he paused to think +of it, he surmised that the young woman--"young and good-looking", on +Walker's word--who had called to see Colonel Stanistreet was none other +than this same Cecelia Brooke. + +What more natural than that she should make early occasion to consult the +head of the British Secret Service in America? + +A pity he had not waited there in the window! If he had, no doubt the +mystery with which the girl had surrounded herself would be no more mystery +to Lanyard; he would have learned the secret of that paper cylinder as well +as the part the girl had played in the intrigue for its possession, and so +be the better advised as to his own future conduct. + +But in his insensate passion for revenge upon one who had all but murdered +him, he had forgotten all else but the moment's specious opportunity. + +With a grunt of impatience Lanyard turned away from the desk, and came face +to face with Crane. + +The Secret Service man was coming from the direction of the bar in company +with Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier. + +Of the three last named but one looked Lanyard's way, O'Reilly, and his +gaze, resting transiently on the countenance of Andre Duchemin minus the +Duchemin beard, passed on without perceptible glimmer of recognition. + +Why not? Why should it enter his head that one lived and had anticipated +his own arrival in New York by twenty hours whom be believed to be buried +many fathoms deep off Nantucket? + +As for Crane, his cool gray, humorous eyes, half-hooded with their heavy +lids, favoured Lanyard with casual regard and never a tremor of interest +or surprise; but as he passed his right eye closed deliberately and with a +significance not to be ignored. + +To this Lanyard responded only with a look of blankest amaze. + +Chatting with an air of subdued self-congratulation pardonable in such +as have come safe to land through many dangers of the deep, the quartet +strolled round the desk and boarded one of the elevators. + +Not till its gate had closed did Lanyard stir. Then he went away from there +with all haste and cunning at his command. + +The route through the cafe to Broadway offered the speediest and least +conspicuous of exits. From the side door of the hotel he plunged directly +into the mouth of the Subway kiosk and, chance favouring him, managed to +purchase a ticket and board a southbound local train an instant before its +doors ground shut. + +Believing Crane would take the next elevator down, once he had seen the +others safely in their rooms, Lanyard was content to let him find the lobby +destitute of ghosts, to let him fume and wonder and think himself perhaps +mistaken. + +The last thing he desired was entanglement with the American Secret +Service. For Crane he entertained personal respect and temperate liking, +thought the man socially an amusing creature, professionally a deadly peril +to one who had a feud to pursue. + +Leaving the train at Grand Central, the adventurer passed through the back +ways of the Terminus, into the Hotel Biltmore, upstairs to its lobby, +thence out by the Vanderbilt Avenue entrance, walking through Forty-fourth +Street to Fifth Avenue, where he chartered a taxicab, gave the address +of his lodgings, and lay back in the corner of its seat satisfied he had +successfully eluded pursuit and very, very grateful to the Subway system +for the facilities it afforded fugitives like himself through its warren of +underground passages. + +One thing troubled him, however, without respite: the Brooke girl was on +his conscience. To her he owed an accounting of his stewardship of that +trust which she had reposed in him. It was intolerable in his understanding +that she should be permitted to go one unnecessary hour in ignorance of the +truth about that business--the truth, that is, as far as he himself knew +it. + +If through Crane or in some unforseeable fashion she were to learn that +Andre Duchemin lived, she would think him faithless. If she knew that +Duchemin had been one with Michael Lanyard, the Lone Wolf, she would not be +surprised. But that, too, was intolerable; even the Lone Wolf had his code +of honour. + +Again, if she remained in ignorance of the fact that Lanyard had escaped +drowning, she would continue to believe her secret at the bottom of the sea +with him; whereas, in the hands of the enemy, in the possession of "Karl" +and his, confederates, it was potentially Heaven only knew how dangerous a +weapon. + +Abruptly Lanyard reflected that at least one doubt had been eliminated by +that encounter in the Knickerbocker. It was barely possible that "Karl" had +gone to the bar on entering and added himself to Crane's party, but it +was hardly creditable in Lanyard's consideration. He was convinced that, +whether or not Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier were parties to the Hun +conspiracy, none of these was "Karl." + +As for the Brooke matter, he felt it incumbent upon him immediately to find +some safe means of communicating with the girl. She could be trusted not to +betray him to the police, however much she might at first incline to doubt +him. But he would persuade her of his sincerity, never fear! + +The telephone offered one solution of his difficulty, an agency +non-committal enough, provided one were at pains not to call from one's +private station, to which the call might be traced back. + +With this in mind he stopped and dismissed his taxicab at Fifty-seventh +Street and Sixth Avenue, and availed himself of a coin-box telephone booth +in the corner druggist's. + +The experience that followed was nothing out of the ordinary. Lanyard, +connected with the Knickerbocker promptly, with the customary expenditure +of patience laboriously spelled out the name B-r-double-o-k-e, and was told +to hold the wire. + +Several minutes later he began to agitate the receiver hook and was +eventually rewarded with the advice that the Knickerbocker operator, being +informed his party was in the rest'runt, was having her paged. + +Still later the central operator told him his five minutes was up and +consented to continue the connection only on deposit of an additional +nickel. + +Eventually, in sequel to more abuse of the hook, he received this response +from the Knickerbocker switchboard: "Wait a min'te, can't you? Here's your +party." + +Lanyard was surprised at the eagerness with which he cried: "Hello!" + +A click answered, and a bland voice which was not the voice he had expected +to hear: "Hello? That you, Jack?" + +He said wearily: "I am waiting to speak with Miss Cecelia Brooke." + +"Oh, then there _must_ be some mistake. This is Miss _Crooke_ speaking." + +Lanyard uttered a strangled "Sorry!" and hung up, abandoning further effort +as hopeless. + +That matter would have to stand over till morning. + +Time now pressed: it was nearly eleven; he had a rendezvous with Destiny to +keep at midnight, and meant to be more than punctual. + +Walking to his apartment house, he proceeded to establish an alibi by +entering through the public hallway and registering with the telephone +attendant a call for seven o'clock the next morning. + +In the course of the next half hour Lanyard let himself quietly out of the +private door, slipped around the block and boarded a Riverside Drive bus. + +Alighting at Ninety-third Street, he walked two blocks north on the Drive, +turned east, and without misadventure admitted himself a second time to the +Stanistreet garden. + + + + +XIV + +DEFAMATION + + +It was hardly possible to watch Mr. Blensop functioning in his vocational +capacity without reflecting on that cruel injustice which Nature only too +often practises upon her offspring in secreting most praiseworthy qualities +within fleshy envelopes of hopelessly frivolous cast. + +The flowing gestures of this young man, his fluting accents, poetic eyes, +and modestly ingratiating moustache, the preciosity of his taste in dress, +assorted singularly with an austere devotion to duty rare if unaffected. + +Beyond question, whether or not naturally a man of studious and +conscientious temper, Mr. Blensop figured to admiration in the role of such +an one. + +Seated, the shaded lamplight an aureole for his fair young head, he wrought +industriously with a beautiful gold-mounted fountain pen for fully five +minutes after Lanyard had stolen into the draped recess of the French +window, pausing only now and again to take a fresh sheet of paper or +consult one of the sheaves of documents that lay before him. + +At length, however, he hesitated with pen lifted and abstracted gaze +focussed upon vacancy, shook a bewildered head, and rose, moving directly +toward the windows. + +For as long as thirty breathless seconds Lanyard remained in doubt; there +was the barest chance that in his preoccupation Blensop might pass through +to the garden without noticing that dark figure flattened against the +inswung half of the window, in the dense shadow of the portiere. Otherwise +the game was altogether up; Lanyard could see no way to avoid the necessity +of staggering Blensop with a blow, racing for freedom, abandoning utterly +further effort to learn the motive of "Karl's" impersonation of Duchemin. + +He gathered himself together, waited poised in readiness for any +eventuality--and blessed his lucky stars to find his apprehensions idle. + +Three paces from the windows, Mr. Blensop made it plain that he was after +all not minded to stroll in the garden. Pausing, he swung a high-backed +wing chair round to face the corner of the room, switched on a reading +lamp, sat down and selected a volume of some work of reference from the +well-stocked book shelves. + +For several minutes, seated within arm's length of the trespasser, he +studied intently, then with a cluck of satisfaction replaced the volume, +extinguished the light, and went back to his writing. + +But presently he checked with a vexed little exclamation, shook his pen +impatiently, and fixed it with a frown of pained reproach. + +But that did no good. The cussedness of the inanimate was strong in this +pen: since its reservoir was quite empty it mulishly refused more service +without refilling. + +With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Blensop found a filler in one of the desk +drawers, and unscrewed the nib of the pen. + +This accomplished, he paused, listened for a moment with head cocked +intelligently to one side, dropped the dismembered implement, and got up +alertly. At the same moment the door to the hallway opened, and two women +entered, apparently sisters: one a lady of mature and distinguished charm, +the other an equally prepossessing creature much her junior, the one +strongly animated with intelligent interest in life, the other a listless +prey to habitual ennui. + +To these fluttered Mr. Blensop, offering to relieve them of their wraps. + +"Permit me, Mrs. Arden," he addressed the elder woman, who tolerated him +dispassionately. "And Mrs. Stanistreet ... I say, aren't you a bit late?" + +"Frightfully," assented Mrs. Stanistreet in a weary voice. "It must be all +of midnight." + +"Hardly that, Adele," said Mrs. Arden with a humorous glance. + +"Dinner, the play, supper, and home before twelve!" commented Blensop, +shocked. "I say, that is going some, you know." + +"George would insist on hurrying home," the young wife complained. +"Frightfully tiresome. We were so comfy at the Ritz, too...." + +"The Crystal Room?" Dissembled envy poisoned Blensop's accents. + +"Frightfully interestin'--everybody was there. I did so want to +dance--missed you, Arthur." + +"I say, you didn't, did you, really?" + +"Poor Mr. Blensop!" Mrs. Arden interjected with just a hint of malice. +"What a pity you must be chained down by inexorable duty, while we fly +round and amuse ourselves." + +"I must not complain," Blensop stated with humility becoming in a dutiful +martyr, a pose which he saw fit quickly to discard as another man came +briskly into the room. "Ah, good evening, Colonel Stanistreet." + +"Evening, Blensop." + +With a brusque nod, Colonel Stanistreet went straightway to the desk, +stopping there to take up and examine the work upon which his secretary had +been engaged: a gentleman considerably older than his wife, of grave and +sturdy cast, with the habit of standing solidly on his feet and giving +undivided attention to the matter in hand. + +"Anything of consequence turned up?" he enquired abstractedly, running +through the sheets of pen-blackened paper. + +"Three persons called," Blensop admitted discreetly. "One returns at +midnight." + +Stanistreet threw him a keen look. "Eh!" he said, making swift inference, +and turned to his wife and sister-in-law. "It is nearly twelve now. Forgive +me if I hurry you off." + +"Patience," said Mrs. Arden indulgently. "Not for worlds would I hinder +your weighty affairs, dear old thing, but I sleep more sound o' nights when +I know my trinkets are locked up securely in your safe." + +With a graceful gesture she unfastened a magnificent necklace and deposited +it on the desk. + +"Frightful rot," her sister commented from the doorway. "As if anybody +would dare break in here." + +"Why not?" Mrs. Arden enquired calmly, stripping her fingers of their +rings. + +"With a watchman patrolling the grounds all night--" + +"Letty is sensible," Stanistreet interrupted. "Howson's faithful enough, +and these American police dependable, but second-storey men happen in the +best-guarded neighbourhoods. Be advised, Adele: leave your things here with +Letty's." + +"No fear," his wife returned coolly. "Too frightfully weird...." + +She drifted across the threshold, then hesitated, a pretty figure of +disdainful discontent. + +"But really, Colonel Stanistreet is right," Blensop interposed vivaciously. +"What do you imagine I heard to-night? The Lone Wolf is in America!" + +"What is that you say?" Mrs. Arden demanded sharply. + +"The Lone Wolf ... Fact. Have it on most excellent authority." + +"The Lone Wolf!" Mrs. Stanistreet drawled. "If you ask me, I think the Lone +Wolf nothing in the world but a scapegoat for police stupidity." + +"You wouldn't say that," Mrs. Arden retorted, "if you had lived in Paris as +long as I. There, in the dear old days, we paid that rogue too heavy a tax +not to believe in him." + +"Frightful nonsense," insisted the other. "I'm off. 'Night, Arthur. Shall +you be long, George?" + +"Oh, half an hour or so," her husband responded absently as she +disappeared. + +With a little gesture consigning her jewellery, heaped upon the desk, to +the care of her brother-in-law, Mrs. Arden uttered good-nights and followed +her sister. + +Blensop bowed her out respectfully, shut the door and returned to the desk. + +"What's this about the Lone Wolf?" Stanistreet enquired, sitting down to +con the papers more intently. + +"Oh!" Blensop laughed lightly. "I was merely repeating the blighter's own +assertion. I mean to say, he boasted he was the Lone Wolf." + +"Who boasted he was the Lone Wolf?" + +"Chap who called to-night, giving the name of Duchemin--Andre Duchemin. Had +French passports, and letters from the Home Office recommending him rather +highly. Useful creature, one would fancy, with his knowledge of the right +way to go about the wrong thing. What? Ought to be especially helpful to us +in hunting down the Hun over here." + +"Is this the man who returns at midnight?" + +"Yes, sir. I thought it best to make the appointment." + +"Why?" + +"He said he had crossed on the _Assyrian_, said it significantly, you know. +I fancied he might be the person you have been expecting." + +Stanistreet looked up with a frown. "Hardly," he said--"if, that is, he is +really what he claims to be. I wonder how he came by those letters." + +"Does seem odd, doesn't it, sir? A confessed criminal!" + +"An extraordinary man, by all accounts.... Those other callers--?" + +"Nobody of importance, I should say. A man who gave his name as Ember and +got a bit shirty when I asked his business. Told him you might consent to +see him at nine in the morning." + +"And the other?" + +"A young woman--deuced pretty girl--also reticent. What was her name? +Brooke--that was it: Cecelia Brooke." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet exclaimed, dropping the papers. "What did you say +to her?" + +"What could I say, sir? She refused to divulge a word about her business +with us. I told her--" + +Warned by a gesture from Colonel Stanistreet, Blensop broke off. Walker was +opening the door. + +"Well, Walker?" + +"A Mr. Duchemin, sir, says Mr. Blensop made an appointment with you for +twelve to-night." + +"Show him in, please." + +The footman shut himself out. Blensop clutched nervously at Mrs. Arden's +jewels. + +"Hadn't I better put these in the safe first?" + +"No--no time." Stanistreet opened a drawer of the desk--"Here!"--and closed +it as Blensop hastily swept the jewellery into it. "Safe enough there--as +long as he doesn't know, at all events. But don't forget to put them away +after he goes." + +"No, sir." + +Again the door opened. Walker announced: "Mr. Duchemin." Stanistreet rose +in his place. A man strode in with the assurance of one who has discounted +a cordial welcome. + +Through the gap which he had quietly created between the portiere and the +side of the window, Lanyard stared hungrily, and for the second time that +night damned heartily the inadequate light in the library. + +The impostor's face, barely distinguishable in the up-thrown penumbra +of the lampshade, wore a beard--a rather thick, dark beard of negligent +abundance, after a mode popular among Frenchmen--above which his features +were an indefinite blur. + +Lanyard endeavoured with ill success to identify the fellow by his +carriage; there was a perceptible suggestion of a military strut, but that +is something hardly to be termed distinctive in these days. Otherwise, he +was tall, quite as tall as Lanyard, and had much the same character of +body, slender and lithe. + +But he was "Karl" beyond question, confederate and murderer of Baron von +Harden, the man who had thrown the light bomb to signal the U-boat, +the brute with whom Lanyard had struggled on the boat deck of the +_Assyrian_--though the latter, in the confusion of that struggle, had +thought the German's beard a masking handkerchief of black silk. + +Now by that same token he was no member of that smoking-room coterie upon +which Lanyard's suspicions had centered. + +On the other hand, any number of passengers had worn beards, not a few of +much the same mode as that sported by this nonchalant fraud. + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits to aid a laggard memory, haunted by a +feeling that he ought to know this man instantly, even in so poor a light. +Something in his habit, something in that insouciance which so narrowly +escaped insolence, was at once strongly reminiscent and provokingly +elusive.... + +Pausing a little ways within the room, the fellow clicked heels and bowed +punctiliously in Continental fashion, from the hips. + +"Colonel Stanistreet, I believe," he said in a sonorous voice--"Karl's" +unmistakable voice--"chief of the American bureau of the British Secret +Service?" + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet," that gentleman admitted. "And you, sir--?" + +"I have adopted the name of Andre Duchemin," the impostor stated. "With +permission I retain it." + +Colonel Stanistreet inclined his head slightly. "As you will. Pray be +seated." + +He dropped back into his chair, while "Karl" with a murmur of +acknowledgment again took the armchair on the far side of the desk, where +the lamp stood between him and the secret watcher. + +"My secretary tells me you have letters of introduction...." + +"Here." Calmly "Karl" produced and offered those purloined papers. + +"You will smoke?" Stanistreet indicated a cigarette-box and leaned back to +glance through the letters. + +During a brief pause Blensop busied himself with collecting together the +documents which had occupied him and began reassorting them, while "Karl," +helping himself to a cigarette, smoked with manifest enjoyment. + +"These seem to be in order," Stanistreet observed. "I note from this code +letter that your true name is Michael Lanyard, you were once a professional +French thief known as 'The Lone Wolf', but have since displayed every +indication of desire to reform your ways, and have been of considerable +use to the Intelligence Office. I am desired to employ your services in my +discretion, contingent--pardon me--upon your continued good behaviour." + +"Precisely," assented "Karl." + +"Proceed, Monsieur Duchemin." + +"It is an affair of some delicacy.... Do we speak alone, Colonel +Stanistreet?" + +"Mr. Blensop is my confidential secretary...." + +"Oh, no objection. Still--if I may venture the suggestion--those windows +open upon a garden, I take it?" + +"Yes. Blensop, be good enough to close the windows." + +"Certainly, sir." + +Stepping delicately, Blensop moved toward the end of the room. + +Again Lanyard was confronted with the alternatives of incontinent flight or +attempting to remain undetected through the adoption of an expedient of the +most desperate audacity. He had prepared against such contingency, he did +not mean to go; but the feasibility of his contemplated manoeuvre depended +entirely upon chance, its success in any event was forlornly problematic. + +"Karl" remained hidden from him by the lamp, so he from "Karl." Colonel +Stanistreet, facing his caller, sat half turned away from the windows. +Everything rested with Blensop's choice, which of the two windows he would +elect first to close. + +A right-handed man, he turned, as Lanyard had foreseen, to the right, and +momentarily disappeared in the recess of the farther window. + +In the same instant Lanyard slipped noiselessly from behind the portiere, +and dropped into that capacious wing chair which Blensop had thoughtfully +placed for him some time since. + +Thus seated, making himself as small and still as possible, he was wholly +concealed from all other occupants of the library but Blensop; and even +this last was little likely to discover him. + +He did not. He closed and latched the farther window, then that wherein +Lanyard had lurked, and ambled back into the room with never a glance +toward that shadowed corner which held the wing chair. + +And Lanyard drew a deep breath, if a quiet one. Behind him the conversation +had continued without break. It was true, he could see nothing; but he +could hear all that was said, he had missed no syllable, and now every +second was informing him to his profit.... + +"Your secretary, no doubt, has told you I am a survivor of the _Assyrian_ +disaster." + +"Yes...." + +"You were, I believe, expecting a certain communication of extraordinary +character by the _Assyrian_, to be brought, that is, by an agent of the +British Secret Service." + +After an almost imperceptible pause Stanistreet said evenly: "It is +possible." + +"A communication, in fact, of such character that it was impossible to +entrust it to the mails or to cable transmission, even in code." + +"And if so, sir...?" + +"And you are aware that, of the two gentlemen entrusted with the care of +this document, one was drowned when the _Assyrian_ went down, and the other +so seriously injured that he has not yet recovered consciousness, but +was transferred directly from the pier to a hospital when the _Saratoga_ +docked." + +"What then, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet," said the impostor deliberately, "I have that +communication. I will ask you not to question me too closely as to how it +came into my possession. I have it: that is sufficient." + +"If you possess any document which you conceive to be so valuable to the +British Government, monsieur, and consequently to the Allied cause, I have +every confidence in your intention to deliver it to me without delay." + +A note of mild derision crept into the accents of "Karl." + +"I have every intention of so doing, my dear sir.... But you must +appreciate I have incurred considerable personal danger, hardship, and +inconvenience in taking good care of this document, in seeing that it did +not fall into the wrong hands; in short, in bringing it safely here to you +to-night." + +A slightly longer pause prefaced Stanistreet's reply, something which +he delivered in measured tones: "I am able to promise you the British +Government will show due appreciation of your disinterested services, +Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"Not disinterested--not that!" the cheat protested. "Gentlemen of my +kidney, sir, seldom put themselves out except in lively anticipation of +favours to come." + +"Be good enough to make yourself more clear." + +"Cheerfully. I possess this document. I understand its character is such +that Germany would pay a round price for it. But I am a good patriot. In +spite of the fact that nobody knew I possessed it, in spite of the fact +that I need only have quietly taken it to Seventy-ninth Street to-night--" + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" Stanistreet's voice was icy. "Your price?" + +"Sorry you feel that way about it," said "Karl" with ill-concealed +insincerity. "You must know thieving is no more what it once was. Even I, +too, often am put to it to make both ends--" + +"If you please, sir--how much?" + +"Ten thousand dollars." + +Silence greeted this demand, a lull that to Lanyard seemed endless. For in +his fury he was trembling so that he feared lest his agitation betray him. +The very walls before his eyes seemed to quake in sympathy. He was aware of +the ache of swollen veins in his temples, his teeth hurt with the pressure +put upon them, his breath came heavily, and his nails were digging +painfully into his palms. + +"Blensop?" + +"Sir?" + +"How much have we on hand, in the emergency fund?" + +"Between ten and twelve thousand dollars, sir." + +"Intuition, monsieur, is an indispensable item in the equipment of a +successful _chevalier d'Industrie_. So, at least, the good novelists tell +us...." + +"Open the safe, Blensop, and fetch me ten thousand dollars." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I presume you won't object to satisfying me that you really have this +document, before I pay you your price." + +"It is this which makes it a pleasure to deal with an Englishman, monsieur: +one may safely trust his word of honour." + +"Indeed...." + +"Permit me: here is the document. Use that magnifying glass I see by your +elbow, monsieur; take your time, satisfy yourself." + +"Thanks; I mean to." + +Another break in the dialogue, during which the eavesdropper heard an +odd sound, a sort of muffled swishing ending in a slight thud, then the +peculiar metallic whine of a combination dial rapidly manipulated, finally +the dull clank of bolts falling back into their sockets. + +"Your _coffre-fort_--what do you say?--strong-box--safe--is cleverly +concealed, Colonel Stanistreet." + +There was no direct reply, but after a moment Stanistreet announced +quietly: "This seems to be an authentic paper.... Monsieur Duchemin, what +knowledge precisely have you of the nature of this document?" + +"Surely monsieur cannot have overlooked the circumstance that its seals +were intact." + +"True," Stanistreet admitted. "Still...." + +"I trust Monsieur does not question my good faith?" + +"Why not?" Stanistreet enquired drily. + +"Monsieur!" + +"Oh, damn your play-acting, sir! If you can be capable of one infamy, you +are capable of more. None the less, you are right about an Englishman's +word: here is your money. Count it and--get out!" + +"Thanks"--the impostor's tone was an impertinently exact imitation of +Stanistreet's--"I mean to." + +"Permit me to excuse myself," Stanistreet added; and Lanyard heard the +muffled scrape of chair-legs on the rug as the Englishman got up. + +"Gladly," the spy returned--"and ten thousand thanks, monsieur!" + +The secretary intoned melodiously: "This way, Monsieur Duchemin, if you +please." + +"Pardon. Is it material which way I leave?" + +"What do you mean?" Stanistreet demanded. + +"I should be far easier in my mind if monsieur would permit me to go by way +of his garden, rather than run the risk of his front door." + +"What's this?" + +"In these little affairs, monsieur, I try to make it a rule to avoid +covering the same ground twice." + +"You have the insolence to imply I would lend myself to treachery!" + +"I beg monsieur's pardon very truly for suggesting such a thing. +Nevertheless, one cannot well be overcautious when one is a hunted man." + +"Blensop ... be good enough to see this man out through the garden." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Again, monsieur, my thanks." + +"Good-night," said Stanistreet curtly. + +Blensop passed Lanyard's chair, unlatched and opened the window and stood +aside. An instant later "Karl" joined him, swung on a heel, facing back, +clicked heels again and bowed mockingly. Apparently he got no response, for +he laughed quietly, then turned and went out through the window, Blensop +mincing after. + +With a struggle Lanyard mastered the temptation to dash after the spy, +overtake and overpower him, expose and give him up to justice. Only the +knowledge that by remaining quiescent, by biding his time, he might be +enabled to redeem his word to the Brooke girl, gave him strength to be +still. + +But he suffered exquisitely, maddened by the defamation imposed upon his +nick-name of a thief by this brazen impostor. + +Nor was wounded _amour-propre_ mended by an exclamation in the room behind +his chair, the accents of Colonel Stanistreet thick with contempt: + +"The Lone Wolf! Faugh!" + + + + +XV + +RECOGNITION + + +Presently Blensop came back, closed the window, and passed blindly by +Lanyard, his reappearance saluted by Stanistreet in tones that shook with +contained temper. + +"You saw that animal outside the walls?" + +Mildly injured surprise was indicated in the reply: "Surely, sir!" + +"And locked the door after him?" + +"Yes, sir--securely." + +"Howson anywhere about?" + +"I didn't see him. Daresay he's prowling somewhere within call. Do you wish +to speak to him?" + +"No.... But you might, if you see anything of him, tell him to keep an +extra eye open to-night. I don't trust this self-styled Lone Wolf." + +"Naturally not, sir, under the circumstances." + +Stanistreet acknowledged this with an irritated snort. "No matter," he +thought aloud; "if it has cost us a pretty penny, we have got this safe in +hand at last. I've not had too much sleep, I can promise you, since the +report came through of Bartholomew's death and Thackeray's disablement. +Nor am I satisfied that this Monsieur Duchemin came by the document +fairly--confound his impudence! If he hadn't put me on honour, tacitly, I'd +not hesitate an instant about informing the police." + +"Rather chancy course to take in this business, what?" + +"I don't know.... That Yankee invention known as the 'frame-up' would +easily make America too small for the Lone Wolf without the British Secret +Service ever being mentioned in the matter." + +"Yes; but suppose the beast knows the contents of this paper, suspects +the authorship of the 'frame-up'--as he instinctively would--and blabs? +Messages have been unsealed and copied and resealed before this." + +"That one consideration ties my hands.... Here, my boy: take this and +put it in the safe--and don't forget Mrs. Arden's things, of course. +Good-night." + +"Trust me, sir. Good-night." + +A door closed with a slight jar, and for half a minute the room was so +positively quiet that Lanyard was beginning to wonder if Blensop himself +had gone out with his employer, when he heard a low and musical chuckle, +followed by a soft clashing as the secretary scooped Mrs. Arden's jewellery +out of the desk drawer. + +Itching with curiosity, Lanyard turned with infinite care and peered round +the wing of the chair, thus gaining a view of the wall farthest from the +street. + +Blensop remaining invisible, Lanyard's interest centred immediately upon +the safe the ingenuity of whose concealment had excited "Karl's" favourable +comment, and with much excuse. + +One of the portraits--that upon whose merits Blensop had descanted to +"Karl" earlier in the night--was, Lanyard saw, so mounted upon a solid +panel of wood that, by means of hidden mechanism, it could be moved +sidelong from its frame, uncovering the face of a safe built into the wall. + +This last now stood open, its door, swung out toward Lanyard, showing +a simple arrangement of dials and locks with which he was on terms of +contemptuous familiarity; only the veriest tyro of a cracksman would want +more than a good ear and a subtle sense of touch in order to open it +without knowledge of the combination. + +With all its reputation for efficiency and astuteness the British Secret +Service entrusted its mysteries to an antiquated contraption such as this! + +Humming a blithe little air, Blensop moved into Lanyard's field of vision +and stopped between him and the safe, deftly pigeonholing therein the +docketed papers and Mrs. Arden's jewels. Then, closing the door, he shot +its bolts, gave the dial a brisk twirl, located a lever in the side of the +frame and thrust it into its socket. + +With the same swish and thud which had puzzled Lanyard at first hearing, +the portrait slipped back into place. + +Rounding on a heel, Blensop paused, head to one side, a slight frown +shadowing his bland countenance, and stood briefly rooted in some +perplexity of obscure origin. Twice he shook a peevish head, then smiled +radiantly and brought his hands together in an audible clap. + +"I have it!" he cried in delight and, dancing briskly toward the desk, once +more disappeared. + +Now what was this which Mr. Blensop so spontaneously had, and from the +having of which he derived so much apparently innocent enjoyment? Wanting +an answer, Lanyard settled back in disgust, then sat sharply forward, gaze +riveted to the near sash of the adjacent window. + +In showing "Karl" out, Blensop had moved the portieres, exposing more +glass than previously had been visible. Now this mirrored darkly to the +adventurer a somewhat distorted vision of Blensop standing over the +desk, seemingly employed in no more amusing occupation than filling his +fountain-pen. But undoubtedly he was in the highest spirits; for the lilt +of his humming rose sweet and clear and ever louder. + +To this accompaniment he pocketed his pen, two-stepped to the windows, +drew the portieres jealously close, returned to the desk, switched off the +reading lamp, and left the room completely dark but for a dim glow from the +ash-filmed embers of the fire. + +But before he went out the secretary interrupted his humming to laugh +with a mischievous elan which completely confounded Lanyard. He was not +unacquainted with the Blensop type, but the secret glee which seemed to +animate this specimen was something far beyond his comprehension. + +As the door softly closed Lanyard moved silently across the room and bent +an ear to its panels, meanwhile drawing over his hands a pair of thin white +kid gloves. + +From beyond came no sound other than a faint creaking of stair-treads +quickly silenced. + +Opening the door, Lanyard peered out, finding the hallway deserted and +dimly lighted by a single bulb of little candle-power at its far end, then +scouted out as far as the foot of the stairs, listened there for a little, +hearing no sounds above, and reconnoitred through the other living rooms, +at length returning to the library persuaded he was alone on the ground +floor of the house. + +A Yale lock was fixed to the library side of the door. Lanyard released its +catch, insuring freedom from interruption on the part of anybody who lacked +the key, crossed to the other side door, left this on the latch and, having +thus provided an avenue for escape, turned attention to business, in brief, +to the safe. + +Turning on the picture-light he found and operated the lever, with his +other hand so restraining the action of the panel that it moved aside +without perceptible jar. + +Then with an ear to that smooth, cold face of enamelled steel, he began +to manipulate the combination. From within the door a succession of soft +clicks and knocks punctuated the muted whine of the dial, speaking +a language only too intelligible to the trained hearing of a thief; +synchronous breaks and resistance in the action of the dial conveyed +additional information through the medium of supersensitive finger tips. +Within two minutes he had learned all he needed to know, and standing back +twirled the knob right and left with a confident hand. At its fourth stop +he heard the dull bump of released tumblers, grasped the handle, and +twisted it strongly. The door swung open. + +Systematically Lanyard searched the pigeonholes, emptying all but one, +examining minutely their contents without finding that slender roll of +paper. + +Mystified, he hesitated. The thing, of course, was somewhere there, only +hidden more cunningly than he had hoped. It was possible, even probable, +that Blensop had stowed the cylinder away in a secret compartment. + +But the interior arrangement was disconcertingly simple. Lanyard saw no +sign of waste space in which such a drawer might be secreted. Unless, to be +sure, one of the pigeonholes had a false back.... + +He began a fresh examination, again emptying each pigeonhole and sounding +its rear wall without result till there remained only that in which Blensop +had placed the Arden jewels. + +It was necessary to move these, but Lanyard long withheld his hand, +reluctant to touch them, for that same reason which had influenced him to +avoid them in his first search. + +Jewels such as these he both worshipped and desired with the passionate +adoration of connoisseur and lover in one. He feared violently the +temptation of physical contact with such stuff. + +For his was no thief's errand to-night, but a matter, as he conceived +it, of his private honour, something apart and distinct from the code of +rogue's ethics which guided his professional activities. He had pledged +his word to Cecelia Brooke to keep safe for her that cylinder of paper, to +return it upon her demand for whatsoever disposition she might choose to +make of it. It was no concern of his what that choice might turn out to +be, any more than it was his affair if the document were a paper of +international importance. But she must and should, if act of his could +compass it, be given opportunity to redeem her word of honour if, as one +believed, that likewise were involved in the fate of the document. + +He had stolen into this house like a thief because he had given his pledge +and perforce had been made false to that pledge, because he had been +despoiled of the concrete evidence of the trust reposed unasked in him, and +because he had learned that his spoiler was to meet Stanistreet in this +room at midnight. + +He was here solely to make good his word, to take away that cylinder, could +he find it, and to return it to the girl ... not to thieve.... + +Never that!... + +Slowly, reluctantly, inevitably he put forth his hand and selected from +among those brilliant symbols of his soul's profound damnation the +necklace, a rope of diamonds consummately matched, a rivulet of frozen +fire, no single stone less lovely than another. + +"Admirable!" he whispered. "Oh, admirable!" + +Hesitant to do this thing which to him, by the strange standard of his +warped code, spelled dishonour, he would and he would not; and while he +paltered, was visited by an oddly vivid memory of the clear and candid eyes +of Cecelia Brooke, seemed veritably to see them searching his own with +their look of grieving wonder ... the eyes of one woman who had reckoned +him worthy of her trust.... + +Almost he won victory in this fight he was foredoomed to lose. Under the +level and steadfast regard of those eyes his hand went out to replace the +necklace, moved unsteadily, faltered.... + +Beyond the windows an incautious footfall sounded. In the darkness out +there someone blundered into a piece of wicker furniture and disturbed it +with a small scraping sound, all but inaudible, but to the thief as loud as +the blast of a police whistle. + +Instantly and instinctively, in two simultaneous gestures, Lanyard dropped +the necklace into an inner pocket of his coat and switched off the +picture-light. + +With hands now as steady and sure as they had been vacillant a moment +since, he closed the safe door noiselessly, shot its bolts, and was yards +away, crouching behind an armchair, before the man outside had ceased to +fumble with the window fastenings. + +If this were the watchman Howson, doubtless he would be satisfied with +finding the room dark and apparently untenanted, and would go off upon his +rounds unsuspecting. If he did not, or if he noticed the displaced panel, +then would come Lanyard's time to break cover and run for it. + +With a faint creak one of the windows swung inward. Curtain-rings clashed +dully on their poles. Someone came through the portieres and paused, +pulling them together behind him. The beam of an electric flash-lamp lanced +the gloom and its spotlight danced erratically round the walls. + +Now there was no more thought of flight in Lanyard's humour, but rather a +firm determination to stand his ground. This was no night watchman, but a +housebreaker, one with no more title to trespass upon those premises than +himself; and at that an unskilled hand at such work, the rawest of amateurs +practising methods as clumsy and childish as any actor playing at burglary +on a stage before a simple-minded audience. + +The noise he made on entering alone proved that, then this fatuous business +with the flash-lamp. And as he moved inward from the windows it became +evident that he had not even had the wit to close the portieres completely; +a violet glimmer of starlight shone in through a deep triangular gap +between them at the top. + +For all that, the intruder seemed to know what he wanted and where to seek +it, betrayed a nice acquaintance with the room, proceeding directly to the +safe picked out by his lamp. + +Arrived beneath it he uttered a low sound which might have been interpreted +as surprise due to finding the panel already out of place. If so, surprise +evidently roused in him no suspicion that all might not be well. On the +contrary, he quite calmly located and turned the switch controlling the +picture-light. + +Immediately, as its rays gushed down and disclosed the man, Lanyard +rose boldly from his place in hiding. Now there was no more need for +concealment; now was his enemy delivered into his hands. + +The man was "Karl." + +His back to Lanyard, unconscious of that one's catlike approach, the spy +put up his flash-lamp, searched in a waistcoat pocket and produced a slip +of paper, and bent his face close to the combination dial, studying its +figures; but abruptly, like a startled animal, whirled round to face the +windows. + +One of the sashes was thrown back roughly, and a figure clad in the gray +livery of a private watchman parted the portieres and entered the library. + +"Everything all right in here, Mr. Blensop?" + +Lanyard saw the sheen of blue steel in the hands of "Karl," and leaped too +late: even as he fell upon the spy's shoulders, the pistol exploded. + +The watchman reeled back with a choking cry, caught wildly at the +portieres, and dragged them down with him as he fell. + +His screams of agony made hideous the night. And the second cry was no more +than uttered when Lanyard, even in the heat of his struggle, heard sounds +indicating that already the household was alarmed. + +But the door would hold for a while; it was not probable that the first to +come downstairs would think to bring with him the key. Time enough to +think of escape when Lanyard had settled his score with this one: no light +undertaking; not only was the score a long one, longer than Lanyard then +dreamed, but, as he had learned to his cost, the man was an antagonist of +skill and strength not to be despised. + +Nevertheless, aided by the surprise of his onslaught, Lanyard succeeded +in disarming the spy, forcing him to drop the pistol at the outset, and +through attacking from behind had him at a further disadvantage. For all +that he found his hands full till, by a trick of jiu-jitsu, he wrenched one +of the fellow's arms behind him so roughly as almost to dislocate it at the +shoulder and, forcing the forearm up toward his shoulder blades, held him +temporarily helpless. + +"Be still, you murderous canaille!" he growled--"or must I tear your arm +from its socket? Still, I say!" + +"Karl" uttered a grunt of pain and ceased to struggle. + +Pinning him against the bookcase, Lanyard hastily rifled his pockets, at +the first dip bringing forth a thin sheaf of American bank-notes with the +figures $1000 conspicuous on the uppermost. + +"Ten thousand dollars," he said grimly--"precisely my fee for the use of my +name--to say nothing of its abuse!" + +A torrent of untranslatable German blasphemy answered him. Intelligible was +the half-frantic demand: "Who the devil are you?" + +"Take a look, assassin--see for yourself!" Lanyard twisted the spy around +to face him, holding him helpless against the wall with a knee in his +middle and a hand gripping his throat inexorably. "Do you know me now--the +man you thought you'd drowned a hundred fathoms deep?" + +Blows thundered on the hallway door. Neither heeded. The spy was staring +into Lanyard's face, his eyes starting with horror and affright. + +"Lanyard!" he gasped. "Good God! will you never die?" + +"Never by your hand--" Lanyard began, but stopped sharply. + +For a moment he glared incredulously, and in that moment knew his enemy. + +"Ekstrom!" he cried; and the man at his mercy winced and quailed. + +The din in the hallway grew louder. Voices cried out for the key. Somebody +threw himself against the door so heavily that it shook. + +The emergency forced itself upon Lanyard's consciousness, would not be +denied. Its dilemma seemed calculated to unseat his reason. If he lingered, +he was lost. Either he must grant this creature new lease of life, or be +caught and pay the penalty of murder for an execution as surely just as any +in the history of mankind. + +It was bitter, too bitter to have come to this his hour so long desired, so +long deferred, so arduously sought, and have the fruits of it snatched from +his craving grasp. + +He could not bring himself to this renunciation; slowly his fingers +tightened on the other's throat. + +Driven to desperation by the light of madness that began to flicker in +Lanyard's eyes, the Prussian abruptly put all he had of might and fury into +one final effort, threw Lanyard off, and in turn attacked him, fighting +like a lunatic for footroom, for space enough to turn and make for the +windows. + +In spite of all he could do Lanyard saw the man work away from the wall and +manoeuvre his back toward the windows; then he flew at him with redoubled +fury, driving home blow after blow that beat down Ekstrom's guard and sent +him staggering helplessly, till an uppercut, swinging in under his uplifted +forearms, put an end to the combat. Ekstrom shot backward half a dozen +feet, stumbled over the prostrate body of the watchman, and crashed +headlong into the windows, going down in a shower of shattered glass. + +In one and the same instant Lanyard darted back and dropped upon his knees +in the shadow of the club lounge, and the door to the hallway slammed open. +A knot of men, to the number of half a dozen, tumbling into the library, +saw that figure floundering amid the ruins of the window, and made for it, +passing on the other side of the lounge, between it and the fireplace. + +Unseen, Lanyard rose, ran crouching across the room; found the side door, +opened it just far enough to permit the passage of his body, and drew it to +behind him. + +Ninety-fifth Street was a lonely lane of midnight quiet. He sped across it +like the shadow of a cloud wind-hunted. + + + + +XVI + +AU PRINTEMPS + + +In those days New York nights were long; this was still young when Lanyard +sauntered sedately from a side street and stopped on a corner of Broadway +in the Nineties; he had not long to wait ere a southbound taxicab hove in +sight and sheered over to the curb in answer to his signal. + +It was still something short of one o'clock when he was set down at his +door. + +Wearily he let himself in by the private entrance, made a light, and +without troubling even to discard his overcoat threw himself into a chair. +Leaden depression weighed down his heart, and the flavour of failure was +as aloes in his mouth. Thrice within an hour he had fallen short of his +promises, to Cecelia Brooke, to himself, to his _idee fixe_. His three +chances, to redeem his word to the girl, to measure up to his queer +criterion of honour, to rid his world of Ekstrom, all had slipped through +fingers seemingly too infirm to profit by them. + +He felt of a sudden old; old, and tired, and lonely. + +The uses of his world, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable! What was +his life? An emptiness. Himself? A shuttlecock, the helpless sport of +his own failings, a vain thing alternately strutting and stumbling, now +swaggering in the guise of an avenger self-appointed, now sneaking in the +shameful habiliments of a felon self-condemned. + +What had prevented his dealing out to Ekstrom the punishment he had so well +earned? That insatiable lust for loot of his. But for that damning evidence +against him of the stolen necklace in his pocket he might have had his will +of Ekstrom, and justified himself when discovered by proving that he had +merely done justice to a thief who sold what he had stolen and stole back +to steal again what he had sold. + +Self-contempt attacked self-conceit like an acid. He saw Michael Lanyard +a sorry figure, sitting stultified with self-pity ... crying over spilt +milk.... + +Impatiently he shook himself. What though he had to-night forfeited his +chances? He could, nay, would, make others. He must.... + +To what end? Would life be sweeter if one found a way to restore to Cecelia +Brooke her precious document and to smuggle back to Mrs. Arden her pilfered +diamonds? Would this deadly ache of loneliness be less poignant with +Ekstrom dead? + +With lack-lustre eyes he looked round that cheerless room, reckoning its +perfunctory pretense of comfort the forlornest mockery. To lodgings such as +this he was condemned for life, to an interminable sequence of transient +quarters, sordid or splendid, rich or mean, alike in this common quality of +hollow loneliness.... + +His aimless gaze wandered toward the door opening on the public hallway, +and became fixed upon a triangular shape of white paper, the half of an +envelope tucked between door and sill. + +Presently he rose and got the thing, not until he touched it quite +persuaded he was not the victim of an optical hallucination. + +A square envelope of creamy paper, it was superscribed simply in a hand +strange to him, _Anthony Ember, Esq_., with the address of his apartment +house. + +Tearing the envelope he found within a double sheet of plain notepaper +bearing a message of five words penned hastily: + + "_Au Printemps_-- + "_one o'clock_-- + "_Please_!" + +Nothing else, not another word or pen-scratch.... + +Opening the door Lanyard hailed the hall-attendant, a sleepy and not +over-intelligent negro. + +"When did this come for me?" + +"'Bout anour ago, Mistuh Embuh." + +"Who brought it?" + +"A messenger boy done fotch it, suh--look lak th' same boy." + +"What same boy?" + +"Same as come in when you do, 'bout 'leven o'clock--remembuh?" + +Lanyard nodded, recalling that on his way up the street from Sixth Avenue +he had been subconsciously irritated by the shrill, untuneful whistling of +a loutish youth in Western Union uniform, who had followed him into the +house and become engaged in some minor altercation with the attendants +while Lanyard was unlocking the door to his apartment. + +"What of him?" + +"Why, he bulge in heah an' say we done send a call, an' we tell him we don' +know nuffin' 'bout no call, an' he sweah an' carry on, an' aftuh you done +gone in he ast whut is yo' name, an' somebody tell him an' he go away. An' +then 'bout haffanour aftuhwuds he come back with that theah lettuh--say to +stick it undeh yo' do, ef yo' ain't home. Leastways he look to me lak th' +same boy. Ah dunno fo' suah." + +Repeated efforts failing to extract more enlightenment from this source, +Lanyard again shut himself in with the puzzle. + +Somebody had set a messenger boy to dog him and find out his name and +address. Not Crane: Lanyard had seen that one disappear in the elevator of +the Knickerbocker and had thereafter moved too quickly to permit of Crane's +returning to the lobby, calling a messenger boy, and pointing out Lanyard. + +For that matter, Lanyard was prepared to swear nobody had followed him from +the Knickerbocker to the Biltmore. + +Vaguely he seemed to recall a first impression of the boy at the time when +he emerged from the drug store after his unprofitable effort to telephone +Cecelia Brooke, an indefinite memory of a shambling figure with nose +flattened against the druggist's window, apparently fascinated by the +display of a catch-penny corn cure. + +Was there a link between that circumstance and the long delay which Lanyard +had suffered in the telephone booth? Had the Knickerbocker operator been +less stupid and negligent than she seemed? Was the truth of the matter that +Crane had surmised Lanyard would attempt communication with the Brooke girl +and had set a watch on the switchboard for the call? + +Assuming that the Secret Service man had been clever enough for that, +it was not difficult to understand that Lanyard had purposely been kept +dangling at the other end of the wire till the call could be traced back to +its source and a messenger despatched from the nearest Western Union office +with instructions to follow the man who left the booth, and report his name +and local habitation. + +Sharp work, if these inferences were reasonable. And, satisfied that +they were, Lanyard inclined to accord increased respect to the detective +abilities of the American. + +But this note, this hurried, unsigned scrawl of five unintelligible words: +what the deuce did it mean? + +On the evidence of the handwriting a woman had penned it. Cecelia Brooke? +Who else? Crane might well have been taken into her confidence, subsequent +to the sinking of the _Assyrian_, and on discovering that Lanyard had +survived have used this means of relieving the girl's distress of mind. + +But its significance?... "Au Printemps" translated literally meant "in the +springtime," and "in the springtime at one o'clock" was mere gibberish, +incomprehensible. There is in Paris a department store calling itself "Au +Printemps"; but surely no one was suggesting to Lanyard in New York a +rendezvous in Paris! + +Nevertheless that "Please!" intrigued with a note at once pleading and +imperative which decided Lanyard to answer it without delay, in person. + +"_Au Printemps--one o'clock--please_!" + +Upon the screen of memory there flashed a blurred vision of an electric +sign emblazoning the phrase, "Au Printemps," against the facade of a +building with windows all blind and dark save those of the street level, +which glowed pink with light filtered through silken hangings; a building +which Lanyard had already passed thrice that night without, in the +preoccupation of his purpose, paying it any heed; a building on Broadway +somewhere above Columbus Circle, if he were not mistaken. + +Already it was one o'clock. Fortunately he was still in evening dress, and +needed only to change collar and tie to repair the disarray caused by his +encounter with Ekstrom. + +In two minutes he was once more in the street. + +Within five a cab deposited him in front of the Restaurant Au Printemps, an +institution of midnight New York whose title for distinction resided mainly +in the fact that it opened its upper floors for the diversion of "members" +about the time when others put up their shutters. + +Lanyard's advent occurred at the height of its traffic. The dining rooms on +the street level were closed and unlighted: but men and women in pairs +and parties were streaming across the sidewalk from an endless chain of +motor-cars and being ground through the revolving doors like grist in the +hopper of an unhallowed mill, the men all in evening dress, the women in +garments whose insolence outrivalled the most Byzantine nights of L'Abbaye +Theleme. + +Drawn in with the current through the turnstile door, Lanyard found himself +in an absurdly little lobby thronged to suffocation, largely with people +of the half-world--here and there a few celebrities, here and there small +tight clusters of respectabilities making a brave show of feeling at +ease--all waiting their turn to be lifted to delectable regions aloft in an +elevator barely big enough to serve in a private residence. + +For a moment Lanyard lingered unnoticed on the outskirts of this +assemblage, searching its pretty faces for the prettier face he had come to +find and wondering that she should have chosen for her purpose with him a +resort of this character. His memory of her was sweet with the clean smell +of the sea; there was incongruity to spare in this atmosphere heady with +the odours of wine, flesh, scent, and tobacco. Perplexing.... + +A harpy with a painted leer and predacious eyes pounced upon him, tore away +his hat and coat, gave him a numbered slip of pasteboard by presenting +which he would be permitted to ransom his property on extortionate terms. + +And still he saw no Cecelia Brooke, though his aloof attitude coupled with +an intent but impersonal inspection of every feminine face within his +radius of vision earned him more than one smile at once furtively +provocative and unwelcome. + +By degrees the crowd emptied itself into the toy elevator--such of it, that +is, as was passed by a committee on membership consisting of one chubby, +bearded gentleman with the look of a French diplomatist, the empressement +of a head waiter and the authority of the Angel with the Flaming Sword. +_Personae non gratae_ to the management--inexplicably so in most +instances--were civilly requested to produce membership cards and, upon +failure to comply, were inexorably rejected, and departed strangely +shamefaced. Others of acceptable aspect were permitted to mingle with +the upper circles of the elect without being required to prove their +"membership." + +In the person of this suave but inflexible arbiter Lanyard identified a +former maitre d'hotel of the Carlton who had abruptly and discreetly fled +London soon after the outbreak of war. + +He fancied that this one knew him and was sedulous both to keep him in the +corner of his eye and never to meet his regard directly. + +And once he saw the man speak covertly with the elevator attendant, +guarding his lips with a hand, and suspected that he was the subject of +their communication. + +The lobby was still comfortably filled, a constant trickle of arrivals +replacing in measure the losses by election and rejection, when Lanyard, +watching the revolving doors, saw Cecelia Brooke coming in. + +She was alone, at least momentarily; and in his sight very creditably +turned out, remembering that all her luggage must have been lost with the +_Assyrian_. But what Englishwoman of her caste ever permitted herself to be +visible after nightfall except in an evening gown of some sort, even though +a shabby sort? Not that Miss Brooke to-night was shabbily attired: she was +much otherwise; from some mysterious source of wardrobe she had conjured +wraps, furs, and a dancing frock as fresh and becoming as it was, oddly +enough, not immodest. And with whatever cares preying upon her secret mind, +she entered with the light step and bright countenance of any girl of her +age embarked upon a lark. + +All that was changed at sight of Lanyard. + +He bowed formally at a moment when her glance, resting on him, seemed about +to wander on; instead it became fixed in recognition. Instantly her smile +was erased, her features stiffened, her eyes widened, her lips parted, the +colour ebbed from her cheeks. And she stopped quite still in front of the +door till lightly jostled by other arrivals. + +Then moving uncertainly toward him, she said, "Monsieur Duchemin!" not +loudly, for she was not a woman to give excuse for a scene under any +circumstances, but in a tone of complete dumbfounderment. + +Covering his own dashed contenance with a semblance of unruffled +amiability, he bowed again, now over the hand which the girl tentatively +offered, letting it rest lightly on his fingers, touching it as lightly +with his lips. + +"It is such a pleasant surprise," he said at a venture, then added +guardedly: "But my name--I thought you knew it was now Anthony Ember." + +Her eyes were blank. "I don't understand," she faltered. "I thought you ... +I never dreamed.... Is it really you?" + +"Truly," he averred, lips smiling but mind rife with suspicion and +distrust. + +This was not acting; he was convinced that her surprise was absolutely +unfeigned. + +So she had not expected to find him "Au Printemps" at one o'clock in the +morning, till that very moment had believed him as dead as any of those +poor souls who had perished with the _Assyrian_! + +Therefore that note had not come from her, therefore Lanyard had +complimented Crane without warrant, crediting him with another's +cleverness. Then whose...? + +And while Lanyard's head buzzed with these thoughts, an independent chamber +of his mind was engaged in admiring the address with which the girl was +recovering from what must have been, what plainly had been, a staggering +shock. Already she had begun to grapple with the situation, to take herself +in hand and dissemble; already her face was regaining its accustomed cast +of self-confidence, composure, and intelligent animation. Throughout she +pursued without a break the thread of conventional small talk. + +"It is a surprise," she said calmly. "Really, you are a most astonishing +person, Mr. Ember. One never knows where to look for you." + +"That is my good fortune, since it provides me with unexpected pleasures +such as this. You are with friends?" + +"With a friend," she corrected quietly--"with Mr. Crane. He stopped outside +to pay our taxi-driver. How odd it seems to find any place in the world as +much alive as this New York!" + +"It seems almost impossible," Lanyard averred--"indeed, somehow wrong. I've +a feeling one has no right to encourage so much frivolity. And yet...." + +"Yes," she responded quickly. "It is good to hear people laugh once more. +That is why Mr. Crane suggested coming here to-night, to cheer me up. He +said Au Printemps was unique, promised I'd find it most amusing." + +"I'm sure...." Lanyard began as Crane entered, breezing through the +turnstile and comprehending the situation in a glance. + +"Hello!" he cried. "Didn't I tell you everybody alive would be here?" + +Nor was Cecelia Brooke less ready. "But fancy meeting Mr. Ember here! I had +no idea he was in New York--had you?" + +"Perhaps a dim suspicion," Crane admitted with a twinkle, taking Lanyard's +hand. "Howdy, Ember? Glad to see you, gladder'n you'd think." + +"How is that?" Lanyard asked, returning the cordiality of his grasp. + +Crane's penetrating accents must have been audible in the remotest corner +of the ground-floor rooms: he made no effort to modulate them to a quieter +pitch. + +"You can help me out of a fix if you feel like it. You see, I promised Miss +Brooke if she'd take me for her guide, she'd see life to-night; and now, +just when we're going good, I've got to renig. Man I know held me up +outside, says I'm wanted down town on special business and must go. I might +be able to toddle back later, but can't bank on it. Do you mind taking over +my job?" + +"Chaperoning Miss Brooke's investigations into the seamy side of current +social history? That will be delightful." + +"Attaboy! If I'm not back in half an hour you'll see her safely home, of +course?" + +"Trust me." + +"And you'll excuse me, Miss Brooke? I hope you don't think--" + +"What I do think, Mr. Crane, is that you have been most kind to a lonely +stranger. Of course I'll excuse you, not willingly, but understanding you +must go." + +"That makes me a heap easier in my mind. But I' got to run. So it's +good-night, unless maybe I see you later. So long, Ember!" + +With a flirt of a raw-boned hand, Crane swung about, threw himself +spiritedly into the revolving door, was gone. + +"Amazing creature," Lanyard commented, laughing. + +"I think him delightful," the girl replied, surrendering her wraps to a +maid. "If all Americans are like that--" + +"Shall we go up?" + +She nodded--"Please!"--and turned with him. + +The committee on membership himself bowed them into the elevator. Several +others crowded in after them. For thirty seconds, while the car moved +slowly upward, Lanyard was free to think without interruption. + +But what to think now? That Crane, actuated by some motive occult to +Lanyard, had engineered this apparently adventitious _rencontre_ for the +purpose of throwing him and the Brooke girl together? Or, again, that Crane +was innocent of guile in this matter--that other persons unknown, causing +Lanyard to be traced to his lodgings, had framed that note to entice him to +this place to-night? In the latter event, who was conceivably responsible +but Velasco, Dressier, O'Reilly--any one of these, or all three working in +concert? The last-named had looked Lanyard squarely in the face without +sign of recognition, back there in the lobby of the Knickerbocker, +precisely as he should, if implicated in the conspiracies of the Boche; +though it might easily have been Velasco or Dressier who had recognized the +adventurer without his knowledge.... + +The car stopped, a narrow-chested door slid open, a gush of hectic light +coloured morbidly the faces of alighting passengers, a blare of syncopated +noise singularly unmusical saluted the astonished ears of Lanyard and +Cecelia Brooke. She met his gaze with a smiling _moue_ and slightly lifted +eyebrows. + +"More than we bargained for?" he laughed. "But there is always something +new in this America, I promise you. Au Printemps itself is new, at all +events did not exist when I was last in New York." + +Following her out, he paused beside the girl in a constricted space hedged +about with tables, waiting for the maitre d'hotel to seat those who had +been first to leave the elevator. + +The room, of irregular conformation, held upward of two hundred guests and +habitues seated at tables large and small and so closely set together +that waiters with difficulty navigated narrow and tortuous channels of +communication. In the middle, upon a small dancing floor, rudely octagonal +in shape, made smaller by tables crowded round its edge to accommodate the +crush, a mob of couples danced arduously, close-locked in one another's +arms, swaying in rhythm with the over-emphasized time beaten out by a +perspiring little band of musicians on a dais in a far corner, their +activities directed by an antic conductor whose lantern-jawed, sallow face +peered grotesquely out through a mop of hair as black and coarse and lush +as a horse's mane. + +Execrable ventilation or absence thereof manufactured an atmosphere that +reeked with heat animal and artificial and with ill-blended effluvia from a +hundred sources. Perhaps the odour of alcohol predominated; Lanyard thought +of a steam-heated wine-cellar. He observed nothing but champagne in any +glass, and if food were being served it was done surreptitiously. Sweat +dripped from the faces of the dancers, deep flushes discoloured all not so +heavily enamelled as to preserve an inalterable complexion, the eyes of +many stared with the fixity of hypnosis. Yet when the music ended with an +unexpected crash of discord these dancers applauded insatiably till the +jaded orchestra struck up once more, when they renewed their curious +gyrations with quenchless abandon. + +The Brooke girl caught Lanyard's eye, her lips moved. Thanks to the din, he +had to bend his head near to hear. + +She murmured with infinite expression: "Au Printemps!" + +The maitre d'hotel was plucking at his sleeve. + +"Monsieur had made reservations, no?" Startled recognition washed the man's +tired and pasty countenance. "Pardon, monsieur: this way!" He turned and +began to thread deviously between the jostling tables. + +Dubiously Lanyard followed. He likewise had known the maitre d'hotel at +sight: a beastly little decadent whose cabaret on the rue d'Antin, just off +the avenue de l'Opera, had been a famous rendezvous of international spies +till war had rendered it advisable for him to efface himself from the ken +of Paris with the same expedition and discretion which had marked the +departure from London of his confrere who now guarded the lower gateway to +these ethereal regions of Au Printemps. + +The coincidence of finding those two so closely associated worked with the +riddle of that note further to trouble Lanyard's mind. + +Was he to believe Au Printemps the legitimate successor in America of that +less pretentious establishment on the rue d'Antin, an overseas headquarters +for Secret Service agents of the Central Powers? + +He began to regret heartily, not so much that he had presented himself in +answer to that note, but the responsibility which now devolved upon him of +caring for Miss Brooke. Much as he had wished to see her an hour ago, now +he would willingly be rid of her company. + +Why had he been lured to this place, if its character were truly what he +feared? Conceivably because he was believed--since it now appeared he had +cheated death--still to possess either that desired document or knowledge +of its whereabouts. + +Naturally the enemy would not think otherwise. He must not forget that +Ekstrom was playing double; as yet none but Lanyard knew he had stolen the +document and done a murder to cover the theft from his associates and leave +him free to sell to England without exciting their suspicion. + +Consequently, Lanyard believed, he had been invited to this place to +be sounded, to be tempted, bribed, intimidated--if need be, and +possible--somehow to be won over to the uses of the Prussian spy system. + +Leading them to the farther side of the room, the maitre d'hotel paused +bowing and mowing beside a large table already in the possession of a party +of three. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. One of the three was Velasco, another a young man +unknown to him, a mannerly little creature who might have been written by +the author of "What the Man Will Wear" in the theatre programmes. The third +was Sophie Weringrode, the Wilhelmstrasse agent whom he had only that +afternoon observed entering the house in Seventy-ninth Street. + +He stopped short, in a cold rage. Till that moment a mirror-sheathed pillar +had hidden from him Velasco and the Weringrode; else Lanyard had refused +to come so far; for obviously there were no unreserved tables, indeed few +vacant chairs, in that part of the room. + +Not that he minded the cynical barefacedness of the dodge; that was indeed +amusing; he was sanguine as to his ability to dominate any situation that +might arise, and to a degree indifferent if the upshot should prove his +confidence misplaced; and he did not in the least object to letting the +enemy show his cards. But he did enormously resent what was, after all, +something quite outside the calculations of these giddy conspirators, the +fact that he must either beat incontinent retreat or introduce Cecelia +Brooke to the company of Sophie Weringrode. + +His face darkened, a stinging reproof for the maitre d'hotel trembled on +his tongue's tip; but that one was busily avoiding his eye on the far side +of the table, drawing out a chair for "mademoiselle," while Velasco and the +Weringrode were alert to read Lanyard's countenance and forestall any steps +he might contemplate in defiance of their designs. + +At first glimpse of the Brooke girl Velasco jumped up and hastened to her, +with eager Latin courtesy expressing his unanticipated delight in the +prospect of her consenting to join their party. And she was suffering with +quiet graciousness his florid compliments. + +At the same time the Weringrode was greeting Lanyard in the most intimate +fashion--and damning him in the understanding of Cecelia Brooke with every +word. + +"My dear friend!" she cried gayly, extending a bedizened hand. "I had begun +to despair of you. Is it part of your system with women always to be a +little late, always to keep us wondering?" + +Schooling his features to a civil smile, Lanyard bowed over the hand. + +"In warfare such as ours, my dear Sophie," he said with meaning, "one uses +all weapons, even the most primitive, in sheer self-defense." + +The woman laughed delightedly. "I think," she said, "if you rose from the +dead at the bottom of the sea, _Tony_, it would be with wit upon your +lips.... And you have brought a friend with you? How charming!" She shifted +in her chair to face Cecelia Brooke. "I wish to know her instantly!" + +Velasco was waiting only for that opening. "Dear princess," he said, +instantly, "permit me to present Miss Cecelia Brooke ... Princess de +Alavia...." + +Completely at ease and by every indication enjoying herself hugely, the +girl bowed and took the hand the Weringrode thrust upon her. Her eyes, +a-brim with excitement and mischief, veered to Lanyard's, ignored their +warning, glanced away. + +"How do you do?" she said simply. "I didn't understand Mr. Ember expected +to meet friends here, but that only makes it the more agreeable. May we sit +down?" + + + + +XVII + +FINESSE + + +The person in the educated evening clothes was made known as Mr. Revel. +For Lanyard's benefit and his own he vacated the chair beside Sophie +Weringrode, seating himself to one side of Cecelia Brooke, who had Velasco +between her and the soi-disant princess. + +Already a waiter had placed and was filling glasses for Lanyard and the +girl. + +With the best grace he could muster the adventurer sat down, accepted +a cigarette from the Weringrode case, and with openly impertinent eyes +inspected the intrigante critically. + +She endured that ordeal well, smiling confidently, a handsome creature with +a beautiful body bewitchingly gowned. + +Time, he considered, had been kind to Sophie--time, the mysteries of the +modern toilette, and the astonishing adaptability of womankind. Splendidly +vital, like all of her sort who survive, she seemed mysteriously able to +renew that vitality through the very extravagance with which she squandered +it. She had lived much of late years, rapidly but well, had learned much, +had profited by her lessons. To-night she looked legitimately the princess +of her pretensions; the manner of the grande dame suited her type; her +gesture was as impeccable as her taste; prettier than ever, she seemed at +worst little more than half her age. + +And her quick intelligence mocked the privacy of his reflections. + +"Fair, fast, and forty," she interpreted smilingly. + +He pretended to be stunned. "Never!" he protested feebly. + +The woman reaffirmed in a series of rapid nods. "Have I ever had secrets +from you? You are too quick for me, monsieur: I do not intend to begin +deceiving you at this late day--or trying to." + +"Flattery," he declared, "is meat and drink to me. Tell me more." + +She laughed lightly. "Thank you, no; vanity is unbecoming in men; I do not +care to make you vain." + +Aware that Cecelia Brooke was listening all the while she seemed to be +enchanted with the patter of Mr. Revel and the less vapid observations of +Velasco, Lanyard sought to shunt personalities from himself. + +"And now a princess!" + +"Did you not know I had married? Yes, a princess of Spain--and with a +castle there, if you must know." + +"Quite a change of atmosphere from Berlin," he remarked. "But it has done +you no perceptible harm." + +That won him a black look. "Oh, Berlin!" she said with contemptuous lips. +"I haven't been there since the beginning of the war. I wish never to see +the place again. True: I was born an Austrian; but is that any reason why I +should love Germany?" + +She leaned forward, her fan gently tapping the knuckles of his hand. + +"Pay less attention to me," she insisted, with a nod toward the middle of +the room. "You are missing something. Me, I never tire of her." + +The floor had been cleared. A drummer on the dais was sounding the +long-roll crescendo. At the culminating crash the lights were everywhere +darkened save for an orange-coloured spot-light set in the ceiling +immediately above the dancing floor. Into that circular field of torrid +glare bounded a woman wearing little more than an abbreviated kirtle of +grass strands with a few festoons of artificial flowers. Applause roared +out to her, the orchestra sounded the opening bars of an Americanised +Hawaiian melody, the woman with extraordinary vivacity began to perform a +denatured hula: a wild and tawny animal, superbly physical, relying with +warrant upon the stark sensuality of her body to make amends for the +censored phrases of the primitive dance. The floor resounded like a great +drum to the stamping of her bare feet, till one marvelled at such solidity +of flesh as could endure that punishment. + +Sophie Weringrode lounged negligently upon the table, bringing her head +near Lanyard's shoulder. + +"Play fair," she said between lips that barely moved. + +Without looking round Lanyard answered in the same manner: "Why ask more +than you are prepared to give?" + +"The police ran you out of America once. We need only publish the fact that +Mr. Anthony Ember is the Lone Wolf...." + +"Well?" + +"Leave Berlin out of it before this girl." + +Lanyard shrugged and laughed quietly. "What else?" + +"We can't talk now. Ask me for the next dance." + +The woman sat back in her chair, attentive to the posturing of the dancer, +slowly fanning herself. + +Lanyard's semblance of as much interest was nothing more; furtively his +watchfulness alternated between two quarters of the room. + +On the farther edge of the circle of tropical radiance he had marked down a +table at which two men were seated, Dressier and O'Reilly. No more question +now as to the personnel of the conspiracy; even Velasco had thrown off +the mask. The enemy had come boldly into the open, indicating a sense of +impudent assurance, indicating even more, contempt of opposition. No +longer afraid, they no longer skulked in shadows. Lanyard experienced a +premonition of events impending. + +In addition he was keeping an eye on the door to the elevator shaft. Once +already it had opened, letting a bright window into the farther wall of the +shadowed room, discovering the figure of the maitre d'hotel in silhouette, +anxiety in his attitude. He was waiting for somebody, waiting tensely. So +were the others waiting, all that crew and their fellow workers scattered +among the guests. Lanyard told himself he could guess for whom. + +Only Ekstrom was wanting to complete the circle. When he appeared--if by +chance he should--things ought to begin to happen. + +If tolerably satisfied that Ekstrom would not come--not that night, at all +events--Lanyard, none the less, continued to be jealously heedful of that +doorway. + +But the hula came to an end without either his vigilance or the impatience +of the maitre d'hotel being rewarded. Writhing with serpentine grace to the +edge of the illuminated area, the dancer leaped back into darkness and the +folds of a wrap held by a maid, in which garment she was seen, bowing and +laughing, when the lights again blazed up. + +Without ceasing to play, changing only the time of the tune, the orchestra +swung into a fox-trot. Lanyard glanced across the table to see Cecelia +Brooke rising in response to the invitation of dapper Mr. Revel. + +In his turn, he rose with Sophie Weringrode. "Be patient with me," +he begged. "It is long since I danced to music more frivolous than a +cannonade." + +"But it is simple," the woman promised--"simple, at least, to one who can +dance as you could in the old days. Just follow me till you catch the step. +It doesn't matter, anyway; I desire only the opportunity to converse." + +Yielding to his arms, she shifted into French when next she spoke. + +"You do admirably, my friend. Never again depreciate your dancing. If you +knew how one suffers at the feet of these Americans--!" + +"Excellent!" he said. "Now that is settled: what is it you are instructed +to propose to me?" + +She laughed softly. "Always direct! Truly you would never shine as a secret +agent." + +"Not as they shine," Lanyard countered--"in the dark." + +"Don't be a fraud. We are what we are, and so are you. Let us not begin to +be censorious of one another's methods of winning a living." + +"Agreed. But when do we begin to talk business?" + +"Why do you continue so persistently antagonistic?" + +"I am French." + +"That is silly. You are an outlaw, a man without a country. Why not change +all that?" + +"And how does one effect miracles?" + +"Germany offers you a refuge, security, freedom to ply your trade +unhindered--within reasonable limits." + +"And in exchange what do I give?" + +"Your services, as and when required, in our service." + +"Beginning when?" + +"To-night." + +"With what specific performance?" + +"We want, we must without fail have, that document you took from the Brooke +girl." + +"Perhaps we had better continue in English. You are speaking a tongue +unknown to me." + +"Don't talk rot. You know well what I mean. We know you have the thing. +You didn't steal it to turn it over to England or the States. What is your +price to Germany?" + +"Whatever you have in mind, believe me when I say I have nothing to sell to +the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"But what else can you do with it? What other market--?" + +"My dear Sophie, upon my word I haven't got what you want." + +"Then why so keen to get the Brooke girl on the telephone as soon as you +found out where she was stopping?" + +"How did you learn about that, by the way?" + +"Let the credit go to Senor Velasco. He saw you first." + +"One thought as much.... Nevertheless, I haven't what you want." + +"You gave it back to Miss Brooke?" + +"Having nothing to give her, I gave her nothing." + +The woman was silent throughout a round of the floor; then, "Tell me +something," she requested. + +"Can I keep anything from you?" + +"Are you in love with the English girl?" + +Lanyard almost lost step, then laughed the thought to derision. "What put +that into your pretty head, Sophie?" + +"Do you not know it yourself, my friend?" + +"It is absurd." + +She laughed maliciously. "Think it over. Possibly you have not stopped to +think as yet. When you know the truth yourself, you will be the better +qualified to fib about it. Also, you will not forget...." + +"What?" he demanded bluntly as she paused with intention. + +"That as long as she possesses the document--since you have it not--her +life is endangered even more than yours." + +"She hasn't got it!" Lanyard declared, as nearly in panic as he ever was. + +"Ah!" the woman jeered. "So you confess to some knowledge of it after all!" + +"My dear," he said, teasingly, "do you really want to know what has become +of that paper?" + +"I do, and mean to." + +"What if I tell you?" + +Her eyes lifted to his in childlike candour. "Need you ask?" + +"You are irresistible.... Ask Karl." + +She demanded sharply: "Whom?" + +"Ekstrom." + +"Ah!" Again the adventuress was silent for a little. "What does he know?" + +"Ask him, enquire why he murdered von Harden, then what business took him +to Ninety-fifth Street twice this evening--once about nine o'clock, again +at midnight." + +"You must be mad, monsieur. Karl would not dare...." + +"You don't know him--or have forgotten he was trained in the International +Bureau of Brussels, and there learned how to sell out both parties to a +business that won't bear publicity." + +"I wonder," the woman mused. "Never have I wholly trusted that one." + +"Shall I give you the key?" + +"If you love Karl as little as I...." + +"But where do you suppose the good man is, this night of nights?" + +"Who knows? He was not here when I arrived at midnight. I have seen nothing +of him since." + +"When you do--if he shows himself at all--look him over carefully for signs +of wear and tear." + +"Yes, monsieur? And in what respect?" + +"Look for cuts about his head and hands, possibly elsewhere. And should he +confess to an affair with a wind-shield in a motor accident, ask him what +happened to the study window in the house at Ninety-fifth Street." + +Impish glee danced in the woman's eyes. "Your handiwork, dear friend?" + +"A mere beginning.... You may tell him so, if you like." + +He was subjected to a convulsive squeeze. "Never have I felt so kindly +disposed toward an enemy!" + +"It is true, I were a better foe to Germany if I kept my counsel and let +Ekstrom continue to play double." + +The music ceasing, to be followed by the inevitable clamour for more, +Lanyard offered an arm upon which Sophie rested a detaining hand. + +"No--wait. We dance this encore. I have more to say." + +He submitted amiably, the more so since not ill-pleased with himself. And +when again they were moving round the floor, she bore more heavily upon his +shoulder and was thoughtful longer than he had expected. Then-- + +"Attention, my friend." + +"I am listening, Sophie." + +"If what you hint is true--and I do not doubt it is--Karl's day is done." + +"More nearly than he dreams," Lanyard affirmed grimly. + +"I shan't be sorry. I am German through and through; what I do, I do for +the Fatherland, and in that find absolution for many things I care not to +remember. If through what you tell me I may prove Karl traitor, I owe you +something." + +"Always it has been my fondest hope, Sophie, some day to have you in my +debt." + +Her fingers tightened on his. "Do not jest in the shadow of death. Since +you have been unwise enough to venture here to-night, you will not be +permitted to leave alive--unless you pledge yourself to us and prove your +sincerity by producing that paper." + +"That sounds reasonable--like Prussia. What next?" + +"I have warned you, so paid off my debt. The rest is your affair." + +"Do you imagine I take this seriously?" + +"It will turn out seriously for you if you do not." + +"How can I be prevented from leaving when I will, from a public +restaurant?" + +"Is it possible you don't know this place? It is maintained by the +Wilhelmstrasse. Attempt to leave it without coming to a satisfactory +understanding, and see what happens." + +"What, for instance?" + +"The lights would be out before you were half across the room. When they +went up again, the Lone Wolf would be no more, and never a soul here would +know who stabbed him or what became of the knife." + +"Are you by any chance amusing yourself at my expense?" + +Once more the woman showed him her handsome eyes: he found them frankly +grave, earnest, unwavering. + +"If you will not listen, your blood be on your own head." + +"Forgive me. I didn't mean to be rude...." + +"Still, you do not believe!" + +"You are wrong. I am merely amused." + +"If you understood, you could never mock your peril." + +"But I don't mock it. I am enchanted with it. I accept it, and it renews +my youth. This might be Paris of the days when you ran with the Pack, +Sophie--and I alone!" + +The woman moved her pretty shoulders impatiently. "I think you are either +mad or ... the very soul of courage!" + +The encore ended; they returned to the table, Sophie leaning lightly on +Lanyard's arm, chattering gay inconsequentialities. + +Dropping into her chair, she bent over toward Cecelia Brooke. + +"He dances adorably, my dear!" the intrigante declared. "But I dare say you +know that already." + +The English girl shook her head, smiling. "Not yet." + +"Then lose no time. You two should dance well together, for you are more of +a size. I think the next number will be a waltz. We get altogether too few +of them; these American dances, these one-steps and foxtrots, they are not +dances, they are mere romps, favourites none the less. And there is always +more room on the floor; so few waltz nowadays. Really, you must not miss +this opportunity." + +This playful insistence, the light stress she laid upon her suggestion that +Cecelia Brooke dance with him, considered in conjunction with her recent +admonition, impressed Lanyard as significantly inconsistent. Sophie was no +more a woman to make purposeless gestures than she was one sufficiently +wanting in finesse to signal him by pressures of her foot. There was sheer +intention in that iteration: "... _lose no time ... you must not miss this +opportunity_." Something had happened even since their dance; she had +observed something momentous, and was warning him to act quickly if he +meant to act at all. + +With unruffled amiability, amused, urbane, Lanyard bowed his petition +across the table, and was rewarded by a bright nod of promise. + +Lighting another cigarette, he lounged back, poised his wine glass +delicately, with the eye of a connoisseur appraised its pale amber tint, +touched it lightly to his lips, inhaling critically its bouquet, sipped, +and signified approval of the vintage by sipping again: all without missing +one bit of business in a scene enacted on the far side of the room, +directly behind him but reflected in a mirror panel of the wall he faced. + +The diplomatist charged with the task of discriminating the sheep from the +goats in the lower lobby had come up to confer with his colleague, the +maitre d'hotel of the upper storey. When Lanyard first saw the man he was +standing by the elevator shaft, none too patiently awaiting the attention +of the other, who, caught by inadvertence at some distance, was moving to +join him, with what speed he could manage threading the thick-set tables. + +Was this what Sophie had noticed? Had she likewise, perhaps, received some +secret signal from the guardian of the lower gateway? + +A signal possibly indicating that Ekstrom had arrived + +They met at last, those two, and discreetly confabulated, the maitre +d'hotel betraying welcome mitigation of that nervous tension which had +heretofore so palpably affected him; and, as the other stepped back into +the elevator, Lanyard saw this one's glance irresistibly attracted to the +table dedicated to the service of the Princess de Alavia. Something much +resembling satisfaction glimmered in the fellow's leaden eyes: it was +apparent that he anticipated early relief from a distasteful burden of +responsibility. + +Then, at ease in the belief that he was unobserved, he turned to a near-by +table round which four sat without the solace of feminine society--four +men whose stamp was far from reassuring despite their strikingly quiet +demeanour and inconspicuously correct investiture of evening dress. + +Two were unmistakable sons of the Fatherland; all were well set up, with +the look of men who would figure to advantage in any affair calling for +physical competence and courage, from coffee and pistols at sunrise in the +Parc aux Princes to a battle royal in a Tenderloin dive. + +Their table commanded both ways out, by the stairs and by the elevator, +much too closely for Lanyard's peace of mind. + +And more than one looked thoughtfully his way while the maitre d'hotel +hovered above them, murmuring confidentially. + +Four nods sealed an understanding with him. He strutted off with far more +manner than had been his at any time since the arrival of Lanyard, and +vented an excess of spirits by berating bitterly an unhappy clown of a +waiter for some trivial fault. + +The first bars of another dance number sang through the confusion of +voices: truly, as Sophie had foretold, a waltz. + + + + +XVIII + +DANSE MACABRE + + +Trained in the old school of the dance, Lanyard was unversed in that +graceless scamper which to-day passes as the waltz with a generation +largely too indolent or too inept of foot to learn to dance. + +His was that flowing waltz of melting rhythm, the waltz of yesterday, +that dance of dances to whose measures a civilization more sedate in its +amusements, less jealous of its time, danced, flirted, loved, and broke its +hearts. + +Into the swinging movement of that antiquated waltz Lanyard fell without +a qualm of doubt, all ignorant as he was of his benighted ignorance; and +instantly, with the ease and gracious assurance of a dancer born, Cecelia +Brooke adapted herself to his step and guidance, with rare pliancy made her +every movement exquisitely synchronous with his. + +No need to lead her, no need for more than the least of pressures upon her +yielding waist, no need for anything but absolute surrender to the magic of +the moment.... + +Effortless, like creatures of the music adrift upon its sounding tides, +they circled the floor once, twice, and again, before reluctantly Lanyard +brought himself to shatter the spell of that enchantment. + +Looking down with an apologetic smile, he asked: + +"Mademoiselle, do you know you can be an excellent actress?" + +As if in resentment the girl glanced upward sharply, with clouded eyes. + +"So can most women, in emergency." + +"I mean ... I have something serious to say; nobody must guess your +thoughts." + +She said simply: "I will do my best." + +"You must--you must appear quite charmed. Also, should you catch me +smirking like an infatuated ninny, remember I am only doing my own +indifferent best to act." + +Laughter trembled deliciously in her voice: "I promise faithfully to bear +in mind your heartlessness!" + +"I am an ass," he enunciated with the humility of conviction. "But that +can't be helped. Attend to me, if you please--and do not start. This place +turns out to be a nest of Prussian spies. I was brought here by a trick. I +understand the order is I may not leave alive." + +Playing her part so well as almost to embarrass Lanyard himself, the girl +smiled daringly into his eyes. + +"Because of that packet?" she breathed. + +"Because of that, mademoiselle." + +"Where is it?" + +For an instant Lanyard lost countenance absolutely. Through sheer good +fortune the girl was now dancing with face averted, her head so nearly +touching his shoulder that it seemed to rest upon it. + +Nevertheless, it was at cost of an heroic struggle that he fought down all +signs of that shock with which it had been borne in upon him that he dared +not assure the girl her packet was in safe hands. + +If he had failed in his efforts to restore the thing to her, that she might +consign it as she saw fit and so discharge her personal trust, till now +Lanyard had solaced himself with a hazy notion that she would in turn be +comforted when she learned the document was in the keeping of her country's +Secret Service. + +Impossible to tell her that: his own act had rendered it impossible, +that act the outcome of wilful trifling with his infirmity, his itch for +thieving. + +Of a sudden the pilfered necklace secreted in an inner pocket of his +waistcoat, above his heart, seemed to have gained the weight of so much +lead. The hideous consciousness of the thing stung like the bite of live +coals. + +This woman was in distress; he yearned to lighten her burden; he could do +that with half a dozen words; his guilt prohibited. + +A thief! + +Now indeed the Lone Wolf tasted shame and realized its bitterness.... + +Puzzled by his constraint, the girl's eyes again sought his; and warned +in time by the movement of her head, he mustered impudence to meet their +question with the look of tenderness that went with the role she suffered +him to play. + +"What is the matter?" + +"I am ashamed that I have failed you...." + +"Don't think of that. I know you did your best. Only tell me what became of +it." + +"It was stolen; when I returned to my stateroom that night I was held up +and robbed. The thief shot at me, killed his confederate, decamped by +way of the port. I pursued. Another aided him to overpower and cast me +overboard." + +"Yet you escaped...!" + +Strange she should seem more intrigued by that than concerned about her +loss! + +"I escaped, no matter how...." + +"You don't know who stole the packet?" + +"I don't recall the man among the passengers, but he may have been in one +of the boats, a fellow of about my stature, with a flowing beard...." + +He sketched broadly Ekstrom as he had seen him in the Stanistreet library. + +Her eyes quickened. + +"One such escaped in our boat, the second steward; I think his name was +Anderson." + +"Doubtless the same." + +"Then it is gone!" + +For once in his acquaintance with her, that brave spirit seemed to falter: +she became a burden, bereft for a little of all grace and spontaneity. + +He was constrained to swing her forcibly into time. + +Almost instantly she recollected herself, covered her lapse with a little +laugh innocent of any hint of its forced falsity, and showed him and the +room as well a radiant countenance: all with such address and art that the +incident might well have escaped notice, otherwise have passed for a bit of +natural by-play. + +Yet distress was too eloquent in the broken query: "What _am_ I to do?" + +Heartsick, self-sick to boot, he essayed to suggest that she consult +Colonel Stanistreet, but lacking so much effrontery, stammered and fell +silent. + +Perhaps misinterpreting, she cried in quick contrition: "I am forgetting! +Forgive me. I should have said: what are you to do?" + +He whipped his wits together. + +"Look down, turn your face aside, smile.... I have a plan, a desperate +remedy, but the best I can contrive. When next the lift comes up, we must +try to be near it. There is one row of tables which we must break through +by main force. Leave that to me, follow as I clear a way, go straight into +the lift. If anything happens, run down the stairway on the left. The +ground floor is two flights below. If I am any way detained, don't stop--go +on, get your wraps, take the first taxi you see, return directly to the +Knickerbocker. I will telephone you later." + +"If you live," she breathed. + +"Never fear for me...." + +"But if I do? Do you imagine I could rest if I thought you had sacrificed +yourself for me?" + +"You must not think that. I am far too selfish--" + +"That is not so. And I refuse positively to do as you wish unless you tell +me how I may communicate with you." + +Resigned to humour her, he recited his address and the number of the house +telephone, and when she had memorized both by iteration, resumed: + +"Once outside, if anybody tries to hinder you, don't let them intimidate +you into keeping quiet, but scream, scream at the top of your lungs. These +beasts abominate a screaming woman, or any other undue noise. Not only will +that frighten them off, but it will fetch the nearest policeman." + +The music ceased. She stood flushed, smiling, adorably pretty, eyes +star-like for him alone. + +"We are not far from the lift now," she said just audibly. + +"But the door is shut. Hush. Here comes the encore. Once more around...." + +They drifted again into that witching maze of melody and movement made one. + +"You are silent," she said, after a little. "Why?" + +Lanyard answered with a warning pressure on her hand. + +The elevator was stationary at the floor, its door wide, the maitre d'hotel +engaged in a far quarter of the room, while those four formidable guardians +of the exit were gossiping with animation over their glasses. + +"Steady. Now is our time." + +Abruptly they stopped. A couple that had been following them avoided +collision by a close margin. Over his partner's head the man scowled +portentously--and dissipated his display of temper on Lanyard's indifferent +back. + +Upon those guests who sat between the dancing floor and elevator, Lanyard +wasted no consideration. Pushing roughly between two adjoining tables, he +lifted one chair with its astonished occupant bodily out of the way, then +turned, swung an arm round the girl's waist, all but threw her through the +lane he had created, followed without an instant's pause. + +It was all so quickly accomplished that the girl was in the car before +another person in the room appreciated what was happening. And Lanyard, in +the act of slamming the door shut without heed for the protesting operator, +saw only a room full of amazed faces with gaping mouths and rounded +eyes--and one man of the four at the near-by table in the act of rising +uncertainly, with a stupefied look. + +Elbowing the boy aside, he seized the operating lever and thrust it to the +notch labelled "Descend." An instant of pause followed: like its attendant +the elevator seemed stalled in inertia of stupefaction. + +Beyond the door somebody loosed an infuriated screech. Angry hands +drummed on the glass panel. With a premonitory shudder the car started +spasmodically, moved downward at first gently, then with greater speed, +coming to an abrupt stop at the street level with a shock that all but +threw its passengers from their feet. + +Up the shaft that senseless punishment of the panel continued. Some other +intelligence conceived the notion for ringing for the car to return: its +annunciator buzzed stridently, continuously. + +Unlatching the lower door, Lanyard threw it back, stepped out, finding the +lobby deserted but for a simpering group of coat-room girls, to one of whom +he flipped a silver dollar. + +"Find this lady's wraps--be quick!" + +Deftly catching the coin, the girl snatched the check from Cecelia Brooke, +and darted into the women's dressing room. + +Throughout a wait of agonising suspense, the elevator boy remained cowering +in a corner of the car, staring at Lanyard as at some shape of terror, +while the ignored buzzer droned without cessation to persistent pressure +from above. + +Out of the dark entrance to the lower dining room the bearded diplomatist +popped with the distracted look of a jack-in-the-box about to be ravished +of its young. + +"Monsieur is not leaving?" he expostulated shrilly, darting forward. + +Lanyard stopped him with a look whose menace was like a kick. + +"I am seeing this lady to her cab," he said in a cold and level voice. + +The coat-room girl emerged from her lair with an armful of wraps and furs. + +Again the bearded one made as if to block the doorway. + +"But, monsieur--mademoiselle--!" + +Lanyard caught the fellow's arm and sent him spinning like a top. + +"Out of the way, you rat!" he snapped; then to the girl: "Be quick!" + +As she shouldered into a compartment of the revolving door incoherent yells +began to echo down the staircase well. At length it had occurred to those +above to utilize that means of descent. + +Wedged in the wheeling door, a final glimpse of the lobby showed Lanyard +the startled, putty-like mask of the maitre d'hotel at the head of +the stairway with, beyond him, the head of one who, though in shadow, +uncommonly resembled Ekstrom--but Ekstrom as he was in the old days, +without his beard. + +That picture passed like a flash on a cinema screen. + +They were on the sidewalk, and the girl was running toward a taxicab, the +only vehicle of its sort in sight, at the curb just above the entrance. + +Coatless and bareheaded, Lanyard swung to face the door porter, a towering, +brawny animal in livery, self-confident and something more than keen to +interfere; but his mouth, opening to utter some sort of protest, shut +suddenly without articulation when Lanyard displayed for his benefit a .22 +Colt's automatic. And he fell back smartly. + +Jerking open the cab door, the girl stumbled into the far corner of the +seat. The motor was churning in promising fashion, the chauffeur settling +into place at the wheel. Into his hand Lanyard thrust a ten-dollar bill. + +"The Knickerbocker," he ordered. "Stop for nobody. If followed steer for +the nearest policeman. There'll be no change." + +He closed the door sharply, leaned over it, dropped the little pistol into +the girl's lap. + +"Chances are you won't want that--but you may." + +She bent forward quickly, eyes darkly lustrous with alarm, and placed a +hand upon his arm. + +"But you?" + +"It is I whom they want, not you. I won't subject you to the hazard of my +company." + +Gently Lanyard lifted the hand from his sleeve, brushed it gallantly with +his lips, released it. + +"Good-night!" he laughed, then stepped back, waved a hand to the +chauffeur--"Go!" + +The taxicab shot away like a racing hound unleashed. With a sigh of relief +Lanyard gave himself wholly to the question of his own salvation. + +The rank of waiting motor-cars offered no hope: all but one were private +town cars and limousines, operated by liveried drivers. A solitary roadster +at the head of the line tempted and was rejected; even though it had no +guardian chauffeur, something of which he could not be sure, he would +be overhauled before he could start the motor and get the knack of its +gear-shift mechanism. Even now Au Printemps was in frantic eruption, its +doors ejecting violently a man at each wild revolution. + +Down Broadway an omnibus of the Fifth Avenue line lumbered, at no less +speed than twenty miles an hour, without passengers and sporting an +illuminated "Special" sign above the driver's seat. + +Dashing out into the roadway, Lanyard launched himself at the narrow +platform of the unwieldy vehicle and, in spite of a yell of warning from +the guard, landed safely on the step and turned to repel boarders. + +But his manoeuvre had been executed too swiftly and unexpectedly. The group +before Au Printemps huddled together in ludicrous inaction, as if stunned. +Then one raged through it, plying vicious elbows. As he paused against the +light Lanyard identified unmistakably the silhouette of Ekstrom. + +So that one had, after all, escaped the net of his own treachery! + +The 'bus guard was shaking Lanyard's arm with an ungentle hand. + +"Here, now, you got no business boardin' a Special." + +From his pocket Lanyard whipped the first bank-note his fingers +encountered. + +"Divide that with the chauffeur," he said crisply--"tell him to drive like +the devil. It's life or death with me!" + +The protruding eyeballs of the guard bore witness to the magnitude of the +bribe. + +"You're on!" he breathed hoarsely, and ran forward through the body of the +conveyance to advise the driver. + +Swarming up the curved stairway to the roof, Lanyard dropped into the rear +seat, looking back. + +The group round the doorway was recovering from its stupefaction. Three +struck off from it toward the line of waiting cars. Of these the foremost +was Ekstrom. + +Simultaneously the 'bus, lumbering drunkenly, lurched into Columbus Circle, +and the roadster left the curb carrying in addition to the driver two +passengers--Ekstrom on the running-board. + +Tardily Lanyard repented of that impulse which had moved him to bestow his +one weapon upon Cecelia Brooke. + +The night air had a biting edge. A chill rain had begun to drizzle down in +minute globules of mist, which both lent each street light its individual +nimbus of gold and dulled deceitfully the burnished asphaltum, rendering +its surface greasy and treacherous. More than once Lanyard feared lest +the 'bus skid and overturn; and before the old red brick building between +Broadway and Eighth Avenue shut out the western sector of the Circle, he +saw the roadster, driven insanely, shoot crabwise toward the curb, than +answer desperate work at the wheel and whirl madly, executing a volte-face +so violent that Ekstrom's hold was broken and he was hurled a dozen feet +away. And Lanyard's chances were measurably advanced by the delay required +in order to pick up the sprawling one, start the engine anew, and turn more +cautiously to resume the pursuit. + +Striking diagonally across Broadway the 'bus swung into Fifty-seventh +Street at the moment when the roadster turned the corner of Columbus +Circle. + +The head of the guard lifted above the edge of the roof. Clinging to the +supports of the stairway, he addressed Lanyard in accents of blended +suspicion and respect. + +"Lis'n, boss: is this all right, on the level, now?" + +"Absolutely, unless that racing-car catches up with us, in which case +you'll have a dead man--myself--on your hands." + +"Well ... we don't wanna lose our jobs, that's all." + +"You won't unless I lose my life." + +"Anything you'd like me to do?" + +"Go down, wait on the platform, if anybody attempts to get aboard kick him +in the act." + +"Sure I will!" + +The guard disappeared. + +Wallowing like a barge in a strong seaway, the omnibus crossed Seventh +Avenue and sped downhill toward Sixth with dangerous momentum. Shortly, +however, this began to be modified by the brakes, a precaution against +mishap which even the fugitive must approve. Ahead loomed the gaunt +structure of the Sixth Avenue "L," bridging the roadway at so low an +elevation as to afford the omnibus little more than clear headroom. Once +beneath it a single bounce up from the surface-car tracks must mean a +wreck. + +But the pursuit was less than half a block astern and gaining swiftly, even +as the speed of the omnibus was growing less and desperately less. + +At what seemed little better than a snail's pace it began to pass beneath +the span of the Elevated. + +Like a racing thoroughbred the roadster swept up alongside, motor chanting +triumphantly, running-board level with the platform step. + +Ekstrom, poised to leap aboard, hesitated; a pistol in his hand exploded; a +shattered window fell crashing. + +There was a yell from the guard, not of pain but of fright. Apparently he +executed a von Hindenburg retreat. Without more opposition Ekstrom gained +the platform. + +In the same breath Lanyard stood up. The lowermost girder of the "L" was +immediately overhead. He grasped it, doubled his legs beneath him, swung +clear. The omnibus shot from under him, the roadster convoying. + +Drawing himself up, he seized a round iron upright of guard-rail and heaved +his body in over the edge of the platform round the switching-tower, which +was at this hour dark and untenanted. + +In the street below a police whistle shrieked, and a fusillade of pistol +shots woke scandalised echoes. + +Bending almost double Lanyard moved rapidly northward on the footway beside +the western tracks, and so gained the old station on the west side of +Fifty-eighth Street, for years dedicated to the uses of desuetude. Through +this he crept, then down the stairs, encountering at the lower landing an +iron gate which obliged him to climb over and jump. + +Not a soul paid the least attention to this matter of a gentleman in +evening dress without hat or top coat dropping from the stairway of a +disused elevated station at two o'clock in the morning. + +In New York anything can happen, and most things do, without stirring up +meddlesome impulses in innocent bystanders. + + + + +XIX + +FORCE MAJEURE + + +This visit to his rooms was the briefest of the several Lanyard made that +night, considerations of mortal urgency dictating its drastic abbreviation. + +If the events of the last few hours had meant anything whatever they had +demonstrated two truths which shone like beacon lights: that Manhattan +Island was overpopulated as long as both he and Ekstrom remained on it; +that Ekstrom had been goaded to the verge of aberration by the discovery +that Lanyard had come safely through the _Assyrian_ debacle to take up anew +his self-appointed office of Nemesis to the Prussian spy system in general +and to the genius of its American bureau in particular. + +Henceforth that one would know no more rest while Lanyard lived. + +Thus that little street-level apartment forfeited whatever attractions it +originally had possessed in the adventurer's estimation. Not only was the +address known to Ekstrom's associates, and so open to him, but its peculiar +characteristics, its facilities for access from the street direct, rendered +it a highly practicable death-trap for a hunted man. + +Lanyard was well persuaded he need only wait there long enough to receive a +deputation from Seventy-ninth Street. And with any assurance that Ekstrom +would come alone, he might have been content to wait. Not only had he +through too intimate acquaintance with his methods every assurance that +Ekstrom would never brave alone what he could induce another to risk with +him, but Lanyard was never one willing to play the passive part. + +A banal axiom of all warfare applied: The advantage is with him who fights +upon the offensive. + +Since midnight the offensive had shifted from Lanyard's grasp to the +enemy's. He was determined to recapture it; and that was something never to +be accomplished by sitting still and waiting for events to unfold, but only +by carrying the war into the enemy's camp. + +He delayed, then, only long enough to change his clothing and to conceal +about him certain properties which it seemed unwise to expose to chance +discovery on the part of Ekstrom or in the ever-possible event of police +intervention. + +Within five minutes from the time of his return he was closing behind him +the private door. + +Wearing a quiet lounge suit but no top coat, with a hat not so soft as to +lack character but soft enough to stick upon one's head in time of action, +and carrying a stick neither brutishly stout nor ineffectively slender, +he strolled up to Seventh Avenue, turned north, entered Central Park--and +strolled no more. + +Kindly shadows enfolded him, engulfed him altogether. One minute after he +had passed through the gateway he would have defied unaided apprehension +by the most zealous officer of the peace. He went swiftly and secretly, +avoiding all lighted ways. + +Not till then did conscience stir and remind him of his slighted promise to +call up Cecelia Brooke. + +No time now for that; the errand that engaged him was of a nature to brook +no more procrastination. The girl must wait. He was sorry if, as she had +protested, solicitude for his welfare must interfere with her night's rest. +But what must be, must: until he saw the end of this adventure he could be +influenced by no minor consideration whatsoever. + +Not that he seriously believed Cecelia's sleep would be uneasy because of +him. That was too much. + +His temper was grim and skeptical. The resentment roused by the trap that +had so nearly laid him by the heels, together with the subsequent effort to +assassinate him out of hand, had settled into a phase of smouldering fury +whose heat consumed like misty vapours every lesser emotion, every humane +consideration. + +Some by-thought recalling the Weringrode's innuendo that he was in love +without his knowledge, moved him to laugh outright if strangely, an +unpleasant laugh that held as much of pain as of derision. + +What room in that dark heart of his for love?... the heart of a thief and a +potential assassin, the heart of the Lone Wolf!... + +How was he to know he had hardly left his lodgings before their hush was +interrupted by the grumble of the house telephone? + +Intermittently for upward of three minutes that sound persisted. When +at length it discontinued the quiet of the untenanted rooms reigned +undisturbed for a brief time only. + +An odd metallic stridor became audible, a succession of scrapings of +stealthy accent at the private entrance. Its latch clicked. The door swung +back against the wall with a muffled bump. Two pairs of furtive feet padded +in the little private hallway. The flash of an electric hand-lamp flickered +hither and yon like a searching poignard, picked out the door to the one +bedchamber and vanished. There was guarded whispering, then a thud as one +of the intruders gained the middle of the bedchamber in a bound. An instant +later a switch snapped, and the room was flooded with light. + +Beneath the chandelier stood a man in evening dress the worse for +misadventure, one knee of his trousers cut open, both legs caked with +a film of half-dry mud, his linen dingy with mud-stains, his top coat +shockingly bedraggled. He was bareheaded, apparently having lost his hat; a +black smear across one cheek added emphasis to the pallor of newly shaven +jowls; and his eyes were blazing. + +"Stole away!" he muttered briefly in disgust, then called: "Ed!" + +As quietly as a shadow a second man joined him, greeting him with a "Hush!" + +This gentleman was in far more presentable repair and a more equable frame +of mind. There was even a glint of amusement in his hard blue eyes. His +countenance had an Irish cast. + +"Hush?" the other iterated with contempt. "What for? The hound's not here." + +"No, Karl," Ed admitted; "but there are others in the house. If it's known +to them that Lanyard's out, they may turn in a police alarm; and I for one +have had enough of bulls for one night." + +Karl grunted disdainfully. "I told you this would be a waste of time...." + +"And I agreed with you entirely. But you would come." + +"Lanyard's no such fool as to stick round a place he knows I know about." +Karl's hands twitched and his features worked nervously. "He knows me too +well, knows that if ever I lay hands on him again--" + +His voice was rising to an hysterical pitch when the other checked him with +a sibilant hiss. At the same time his hand darted out and switched off the +light. Karl uttered a startled ejaculation. + +"_Sssh_!" his companion repeated. + +In the street a motor-car was rumbling, stationary before the door. Then +the remote grinding of the house door-bell was heard. + +"Let's get out of this," suggested the Irishman. "It's no good waiting, +anyway." + +"Hold hard! We won't go till we have a clear field." + +The Prussian stole out into the sitting room and stood listening at the +door to the public hallway, his companion standing by with a mutinous air. + +"Oh, come along!" he insisted, in a stage whisper. + +"Shut up! Listen...." + +Shuffling footfalls traversed the hallway. The front door was opened. The +clear voice of an Englishwoman was answered in the slurring patois of a +negro. + +"No'm, he ain't in." + +The next enquiry was intelligible: the speaker had entered the hallway. + +"Are you sure?" + +"Yas'm. Sumbody done call him up 'bout ten min'tes ago, an' I rung an' rung +an' he don' answer. He ain't in or he don' mean to answer nobody, tha's +all." + +"I am very anxious about him. Have you a key to his rooms?" + +"Yas'm, I got a pass-key, but--" + +"Please use it. Take this. Go in and make sure he is out, or if at home +that he is all right." + +"Yas'm, thanky ma'am, but--" + +"Do as I tell you. I will see that you don't get into trouble." + +"All right, ma'am." The negro chuckled, probably over his tip. "Yo' sho' +has got the p'suadin'est way...." + +The Irishman caught the German's arm. "Come out of this," he pleaded. + +"No fear. I'll see it through. That's the Brooke girl the fool got in with +on the boat. She may know something...." + +"But--" + +"Leave this to me. You look out for the negro. I'll take care of Miss +Cecelia Brooke." + +Swearing unhappily, the Irishman flattened against the wall to one side of +the door. Karl waited behind it as it admitted the hall attendant, who made +directly toward the central chandelier. + +"Yo' jes' wait, ma'am, an' I'll mek a light an'--" + +But the girl had impetuously followed him in. + +The light went up, and Karl put a heavy shoulder against the door, closing +it with a slam. The negro turned and stood with gaping mouth and staring +eyes, dumb with terror. The girl recognised Karl with a little cry, and +darted back toward the door. Immediately he caught her in his arms. Her +lips opened, but their utterance was stifled by a handkerchief thrust +between them with the dexterity of a practised hand. + +Without one word of warning the Irishman stepped forward and struck the +negro brutally in the face. The boy reeled, whimpering. Two more blows +delivered with murderous ferocity silenced him altogether. He collapsed +like a broken puppet, insensible on the floor, his face a curious ashen +colour beneath its glossy skin of brown. + + + + +XX + +RIPOSTE + + +The drizzle had grown thicker, the night blacker, the early morning air +still more chill. But Lanyard was moving too swiftly to be affected by +this last circumstance; the first he anathematised with the perfunctory +bitterness of a skilled artisan who sees his work in a fair way to be +obstructed by elemental depravity. Another of his trade would have termed +such weather conditions ideal, and so might the Lone Wolf on an everyday +job; but the prospect of a footing rendered insecure by rain trebled the +hazards attending a plan of campaign that would brook neither revision nor +delay. + +There was only one way to break into the house on Seventy-ninth Street; +this Lanyard had appreciated upon his first reconnaissance of the previous +afternoon. He could have wished for more time in which to prepare and +assemble tested equipment instead of relying upon chance to supply +the requisite gear; but with all time at his disposal the mechanical +difficulties of the problem would remain. Far from indifferent to these, +Lanyard addressed himself to their conquest doggedly and with businesslike +economy of motion. + +Shunning the public paths he went over the park wall like a cat, sped +across town through Eightieth Street, and so came to that plot of land upon +which an apartment building was in process of erection, immediately to the +north of the American headquarters of the Prussian spy system. + +Walled in with stone two storeys deep, its gaunt skeleton of steel had +been joined together as far as the seventh level. How much higher it was +destined to rise was immaterial; for Lanyard's purpose it was enough that +the frame had already outgrown its neighbour on the south. + +A litter of lumber, huge steel girders, and other material narrowed the +side street to half its normal width. The sidewalk space was trampled earth +roofed with heavy planks for the protection of pedestrian heads, a passage +lighted by electric bulbs widely spaced; midway in this an entrance to +the structure was flanked by a wooden shanty, by day a tool house, after +working hours a shelter for the night watchman. This boasted one glazed +window dull with orange light. + +Approaching with due precaution, Lanyard peered in. The light came from a +single electric bulb and a potbellied sheet-iron stove, glowing red. Near +by, in a chair tipped against the wall, sat the watchman, corncob pipe +in hand, head drooping, eyes closed, mouth ajar. A snore of the first +magnitude seemed to vibrate the very walls. On the floor beside the chair +stood a two-quart tin pail full of arid emptiness. + +Dismissing further consideration of the watchman as a factor, satisfied +that the entire neighbourhood as well was sound asleep, Lanyard darted up +the plank walk that led into the building, then paused to get his bearings. + +Effluvia of mortar and damp lumber saluted him in an uncanny place whose +darkness was slightly qualified by a faint refracted glow from the low +canopy of cloud and by equally dim shafts of diffused street light. There +was more or less flooring of a temporary character over a sable gulf of +cellars, and overhead a sullen, weeping sky cross-hatched with stark black +ironwork. + +With infinite patience Lanyard groped his way through that dark labyrinth +to the foot of a ladder ascending an open shaft wherein a hoisting tackle +dangled. + +Here he stumbled over what he had been seeking, a great coil of one-inch +hempen cable, from which he measured off roughly what he would require, if +his calculations were correct, and something over. This length he re-coiled +and slung over his shoulder: an awkward, weighty handicap. Nevertheless he +began to climb. + +Above the third level there was merely steel framework; he had somewhat +more light to guide him, with a view of the north wall of the Seventy-ninth +Street house, bright in the glare of avenue lamps. + +The wall was absolutely blank. + +At the seventh level the ladders ended. He stepped off upon a foot-wide +beam, paused to make sure of his poise, and began to walk the girders with +a sureness of foot any aviator might have envied. + +At regular intervals he encountered uprights: between these he had to +depend upon his sense of direction and equilibrium to guide him safely +across those narrow walks of steel made slippery by rain. + +But, thanks to forethought, his footwork was faultless: he wore shoes old, +well-broken, very soft, flexible, and silent. + +The building was in the shape of a squat E, with two courts facing south. +On this seventh level the first court was bridged by a single girder, the +middle of which was Lanyard's immediate objective. Since it lacked uprights +he took it cautiously on hands and knees until approximately equidistant +from both ends, when he straddled it, took the cable from his shoulders, +uncoiled a length and made it fast round the girder with a clove hitch: +giddy work, in that darkness, on that greasy span, fashioning by simple +sense of touch the knot upon which his life was to depend, half of the time +prone upon the girder and fishing blindly beneath it for the rope's end, +with nothing but a seventy--foot drop between him and eternity, not even +another girder to break a fall.... + +He was now immediately opposite the minaret, at an elevation of about +twenty feet above the roof he wished to reach, and as far away, or perhaps +a trifle farther. + +Still he detected no signs of life about that nest of spies: if the +wireless were in operation its apparatus was well-housed; there was no +sound of the spark, never a glimmer of its violet flash. + +Laboriously--the knot completed to his satisfaction--Lanyard returned via +the eastern arm of the E, paying out the coiled cable as he progressed, +working round to the north side of the court. + +Once again pausing opposite the minaret, he knotted the end of the cable +loosely round an upright connecting with the sixth level, let it slide +down, followed it, repeated the process, and rested finally on the fifth. + +Now his ordeal approached a climax which he contemplated with what calmness +he could while securing the rope beneath the arms. + +In another sixty seconds or less it must be demonstrated whether his dead +reckoning would set him down safe and sound on the roof or dash him against +the walls of the Seventy-ninth Street house, to swing back and dangle +impotently in mid-air till daylight and police discovered him--unless, +escaping injury, he were able to pull himself up hand over hand to the +girder. + +With one arm round the upright to prevent the sag of rope from dragging him +over prematurely, he essayed a final survey. + +Either the murk deceived or Lanyard had judged shrewdly. His feet were on +an approximate level with the coping round the roof, and he stood about as +far from the upper girder to which the rope was hitched as that was distant +from the coping. + +One look up and round at those louring skies, duskily flushed by subdued +city lights: with no more ceremony Lanyard released the upright and +committed his body to space. + +If the downward sweep was breathless, what followed was breath-taking: +once past the nadir of that giant swing, he was borne upward by an impetus +steadily and sensibly slackening. + +Instant followed leaden-winged instant while the wall, looming like +a mountainside, seemed to be toppling, insensately bent upon his +annihilation; even so his momentum, decreasing with frightful swiftness, +seemed possessed of demoniac desire to frustrate him. + +After an age-long agony of doubt it became evident he was not destined +to crash into the wall, but not that he was to gain the coping: through +fractions of a second hideously protracted this last drew near, nearer, +slowly, ever more slowly. + +And he was twisting dizzily.... + +With frantic effort he crooked an arm over the coping at a juncture when, +had he not acted instantly, he must have swung back. There was a racking +wrench, as though his arm were being torn from its socket. + +At the end of a struggle even more wearing he flung his other arm across +the ledge, and for some time hung there, at the end of an almost taut rope, +unable to overcome its resistance and pull himself in over the coping, +stubbornly refusing to loose his grasp. + +Presently, grown desperate, he let go with his right hand, holding fast +only with the left, fumbled in a pocket, found his knife, opened it with +his teeth, and began, to saw at the rope round his chest. + +Strand after strand parted grudgingly till it fell away altogether and +reaction from its tension threw him against the coping with such violence +that he all but lost his hold. Dropping the knife, he swept his right arm +up and once more hooked his fingers over the inside of the ledge. + +Far down the knife clinked suggestively upon stone. + +Breathing deep, Lanyard braced knees and feet against the wall, worried, +heaved, hauled, squirmed like a mad thing, in the end rolled over the top +and fell at length upon the roof, panting, trembling, bathed in sweat, +temporarily tormented by impulses to retch. + +By degrees regaining physical control, he sat up, took his bearings, and +crept toward the foot of the minaret. + +A small, narrow doorway in its base was on the latch. He passed through to +the landing of a dark winding stairway with a dim light at the bottom of +its circular well. + +While he stood attentive, intermittent stridor troubled the stillness, +originating at some point on the floors below: the proscribed wireless was +at work. + +Hearing no other sounds, Lanyard went on down the steps, at their foot +pausing to spy out through a half-open doorway to the topmost storey. + +Nobody moved in the corridor. He saw nothing but a line of closed doors, +presumably to servants' quarters. Now, however, the vibrant rasp of the +radio spark was perceptibly stronger and had a background of subdued noise, +echoes of distant voices, deadened sounds of hasty footfalls, now and again +a heavy thump or the bang of a door. + +Moving out, he commanded the length of the corridor. Toward one end a door +stood open. He could see no more of the room beyond than a narrow patch of +wall fitfully illuminated by a play of violet light. + +Then a man stepped out of this operating room, turning on the threshold to +utter some parting observation; and Lanyard retired hastily to the shaft of +the minaret stairway, but not before recognising Velasco. + +A moment later the Brazilian passed his lurking-place, walking with bended +head, a worried frown darkening his swarthy countenance; and Lanyard +emerged in time to see his head and shoulders vanish down a stairway at the +far end of the corridor. + +Following with discretion, Lanyard leaned over the head of the main +staircase well, looking down three flights to the ground floor, to which +Velasco was descending. + +The house seemed veritably to hum with secret and, to judge by the pitch of +its rumour, well-nigh panic activity. One divined a scurrying as of +rats about to desert a sinking ship. Untoward events had thrown this +establishment into a state of excited confusion: their nature Lanyard could +not surmise, but their conjunction with his designs was exasperatingly +inopportune. To search this place and find his man--if he were there at +all--without being discovered, while its inmates buzzed about like so many +startled hornets, was a fair impossibility; to attempt it was to court +death. + +None the less he was inflexible in determination to go on, to push his luck +to its extremity, by sheer force to bend fortuity to his service and suffer +without complaint whatever the consequences of its recoil. + +Yet even as he advanced a foot to begin the descent, he withdrew it. + +On the ground floor, a door closing with a resounding crash had proved the +signal for an outburst of expostulant, acrimonious voices: some half a +dozen men giving angry tongue at one and the same time, their roars of +polysyllabic gutturalisms fusing into utterly unintelligible clamour. + +One thought of a mutiny in a German madhouse. + +Moment after moment passed, the squall persisting with unmitigated +viciousness. If now and again it subsided momentarily, it was only into +uglier growls and swiftly to rise once more to high frenzy of incoherence. + +Two of the disputants appeared in the square frame of the staircase well, +oddly foreshortened figures brandishing wild arms, one of them Velasco, the +other a man whom Lanyard failed to identify, seemingly united in common +anger directed at the head of some person invisible. + +Abruptly, with a gesture of almost homicidal fury, the Brazilian darted out +of sight. The other followed. + +Then the object of their wrath took to the stairs, stopping at the rail +of the first landing and gesticulating savagely over the heads of his +audience, Velasco and the others returning amid a knot of fellows to bay +round the newel post. + +His voice, full-throated, cried them all down--Ekstrom's deep and resonant +voice, domineering over the uproar, hectoring one after another into sullen +silence. + +In the beginning employing nothing but terms and phrases of insolence and +objurgation untranslatable, when he had secured a measure of attention he +delivered a short address in tones of unqualified contempt. + +"I will have obedience!" he stormed. "Let no one misunderstand my status +here: I am come direct from His Majesty the Emperor with full power and +authority to command and direct affairs which you have, individually, +collectively, proved yourselves either unfit or unable to cope with. What I +do, I do in my absolute discretion, with the full sanction and confidence +of the Kaiser. He who questions my judgment or my actions, questions the +wisdom of the All-Highest. Let it be clearly understood I am answerable +to no one under God but myself and my Imperial master. Henceforth be good +enough to hold your tongues or take the consequences--and be damned to you +all!" + +Briefly he stood glowering down at their upturned faces, then sneered, and +turned away. + +"Come along, O'Reilly," he said. "Fetch the woman, and give no more heed to +swine-dogs!" + +His hand slipped up the rail to the first floor, vanished. + +If O'Reilly followed with the woman mentioned, both kept back from the rail +and so out of Lanyard's field of vision. + +The group at the foot of the stairs moved away, grumbling profanely. + +At once Lanyard began to descend, rapidly and without care to avoid +detection. + +One flight down he met face to face a manservant, evidently a footman, with +an armful of clothing which he was conveying from one chamber to another. +The fellow stopped short, jaw dropping, eyes popping; whereupon Lanyard +paused and addressed him in German with a manner of overbearing contempt, +that is to say, in character. + +"You're wanted upstairs in the radio room," he said--"at once!" + +The servant bleated one word of protest: "But--!" + +"Be silent. Do as I bid you. It is an emergency. Drop those things and go! +Do you hear, imbecile?" + +Completely cowed and cheated, the man obeyed literally, letting his burden +of garments fall to the floor and bounding hurriedly up the stairs. + +Another flight was negotiated without misadventure; on this floor as well +servants were flitting busily to and fro, but none favoured the adventurer +with the least attention. + +Midway down the third flight he pulled up to one side of the landing, and +reconnoitred. It was on the next floor below, the first above the street, +that Ekstrom had stopped. But in what quarter thereof? The exigency forbade +the risk of one false turn. If Lanyard were to take Ekstrom unawares it +must be at the first cast. + +From the ground floor came semi-coherent snatches of surly comment, like +growls of a thunderstorm passing off into the distance: + +"_At a time such as this_...." + +"... _Secret Service snapping at our heels_ ..." + +"... _base on the Vineyard discovered_ ..." + +"... _Au Printemps raided, Sophie Weringrode under arrest. God knows +whether she will hold her tongue_!" + +"_Trust her! But this ass_ ..." + +"_Bringing a woman here, putting all our necks into a halter_ ..." + +Immediately opposite the foot of the stairway, on the first storey, a door +opened. O'Reilly came alertly forth, closed the door behind him, paused, +fished in his pocket for a cigarette case, lighted and inhaled with deep +appreciation, meantime eavesdropping on the utterances below with his head +cocked to one side and a malicious smile shadowing his handsome Irish face. + +In his own good time he shrugged an indifferent shoulder, thrust his hands +into his pockets, and sauntered coolly on down the stairs. + +The moment he disappeared, Lanyard went into action, in two bounds cleared +landing and stairs, in another threw himself upon the door. It opened +readily. Entering, he put his back to it, with his left hand groped for, +found and turned a key, his right holding ready the automatic pistol he had +taken from the lockers of the U-boat. + +The room was a combination of administrative bureau and study, very +handsomely if somewhat over-decorated and furnished, with an atmosphere as +distinctively German as that of a Bierstube, the sombreness of its colour +scheme lending weight to its array of massive desks, tables, chairs, +bookcases, and lounges. + +Between great draped windows and an impressive chimney-piece opposite, +beside a broad, long desk, in a straight-backed chair sat a woman, gagged, +bound as to her wrists, strips of cloth which had but lately bound ankles +as well on the floor about her feet. + +That woman was Cecelia Brooke. + +Ekstrom stood behind her, in the act of loosening the knots which held the +gag secure. + +For a space of thirty seconds, transfixed by the apparition of his enemy, +he did not stir other than to raise weaponless hands in deference to the +pistol trained upon his head. But the blood ebbed from his face, leaving +it a ghastly mask in which shone the eyes of a man who sees certain death +closing in upon him and is powerless to combat it, even to die fighting for +life. And his lips curled back in a snarl neither of contempt nor of hatred +but of terror. + +And for as long Lanyard remained as motionless, rooted in a despondency +of thwarted hopes no less profound than the despair of the Prussian, +apprehending what that one could not yet guess, that once more, and now +certainly for the last time, vengeance was denied him, the fulfilment of +all his labours and their sole purpose snatched from his grasp. + +The instincts of a killer were not his. Barring injudicious attempt to +summon aid or take the offensive, Ekstrom was safe from injury at the hands +of Michael Lanyard. His cunning, his favour in the countenance of fortune, +or whatever it was that had enabled him to make the girl his prisoner and +bring her here, bade fair to prove his salvation. + +Deep in Lanyard's consciousness an echo stirred of half-forgotten words: +"_Vengeance is mine_...." + +The sense of frustration brewed a hopelessness as stark as that of a +brow-beaten child. A blackness seemed to be settling down upon his +faculties. A mist wavered momentarily before his eyes. He gulped +convulsively, swallowing what had almost been a sob. + +But he spoke in a voice positively dispassionate. + +"Keep your hands up." + +Lanyard removed and pocketed the key, crossed to the middle of the room +without once letting his gaze waver from the face of the Prussian, +passed behind him, planted the muzzle of the pistol beneath Ekstrom's +shoulder-blade, and methodically searched him, finding and putting aside on +the desk one automatic, nothing else. + +"Stand aside!" + +The almost puerile measure of his disappointment was betrayed in the thrust +with which he shouldered Ekstrom out of the way, so forcibly that the man +was sent staggering wildly half a dozen paces. + +"Don't move, assassin!... Pardon, mademoiselle: one moment," Lanyard +muttered, with his one free hand undoing the gag. + +He made slow work of that, fumbling while watching Ekstrom with unremitting +intentness, hoping against hope that his enemy might make one false move, +one only, by some infatuate endeavour to turn the tables excuse his +killing. + +But Ekstrom would not. Recovery of his equilibrium had been coincident with +the shock administered to his hardihood and sense of security by Lanyard's +entrance. He stood now in a pose of insouciant grace, hands idly clasped +before him, disdain glimmering in languid-lidded eyes, contempt in the set +of his lips--an ensemble eloquent of brazen effrontery, the outgrowth of +perception of the fact that Lanyard, being what he was, could neither shoot +him down in cold blood nor, with the Brooke girl present, even attempt to +injure him: compunctions unassembled in the make-up of the Boche, therefore +when discovered in men of other races at once despicable and ridiculous.... + +The gag came away. + +"Mademoiselle has not been injured?" Lanyard enquired, solicitous. + +The girl coughed and gasped, shaking her head, enunciating with difficulty +in little better than a husky whisper: "... roughly handled, nothing +worse." + +Lanyard's face burned as if his blood were molten mercury. "_Nothing +worse_!" Appreciation of what handling she must have suffered, if she had +resisted at all, before those beasts could have bound her, excited an +indignation from whose light, as it blazed in Lanyard's eyes, even Ekstrom +winced. + +The hand was tremulous with which he sought to loose her wrists, so much so +that she could not but notice. + +"Don't mind me--look to that man!" she begged. "Leave me to unfasten these +with my teeth. He can't be trusted for a single instant." + +"Mademoiselle," Lanyard mumbled, instinctively employing the French +idiom--"you have reason." + +For an instant only he hesitated, swayed this way and that by the maddest +of impulses, then resigned himself absolutely to their ascendancy. + +"This goes beyond all bounds," he said in an undertone. + +Deliberately leaving the Englishwoman to free herself according to her +suggestion--forgetful, indeed, for the moment, that she was not altogether +free--he moved to the desk and left his own automatic there beside +Ekstrom's. + +"Mademoiselle," he said mechanically, without looking at the girl, without +power to perceive aught else in the world but the white, evil face of his +enemy, "for what I am about to do, I beg you forgive me, of your charity. I +can endure no more. It is too much...." + +He strode past her. + +She twisted in her chair, then rose, following him with wide eyes of alarm +above her hands, whose bonds her teeth worried without rest. + +Ekstrom had not stirred, though one flash of pure exultation had +transfigured his countenance on comprehension of Lanyard's purpose: thanks +to the silly scruples of this animal, one more chance for life was granted +him. + +Nor would the Prussian give an inch when Lanyard paused, confronting him +squarely, within arm's length. + +"Ekstrom," the adventurer began in a voice lacking perceptible inflection +... "what is between you and me needs no recounting. You know it too +well--I likewise. It is my wish and my intention to kill you with my +two hands. Nothing can prevent that, not even what you count upon, my +reluctance--to you incomprehensible--to commit an act of violence in the +presence of a woman. But because Miss Brooke is here, because you have +brought her here by force, because you are what you are and so have treated +her insolently ... before we come to our final accounting, you shall get +down upon your knees and ask her pardon." + +He saw no yielding in the eyes of the Prussian, only arrogance; and when he +paused, he was answered in one phrase of the gutters of Berlin, couched in +the imagery of its lowest boozing-kens, so unspeakably vile in essence +and application that Lanyard heard it with an incredulity almost +stupefying--almost, not altogether. + +It was barely spoken when those lips that framed it were crushed by a blow +of such lightning delivery that, though he must have been prepared for it, +Ekstrom's guard was still lowered as he reeled back, lost footing, and went +to his knees. + +Panting, snarling, uttering teeth and blasphemy, the Prussian recoiled like +a serpent, gathered himself together and launched headlong at Lanyard, only +to be met full tilt by a second blow and a third, each more merciless than +its predecessor, beating him down once more. + +This time Lanyard did not wait for him to come back for punishment, but +closed in, catching him as he strove to rise, meeting each fresh effort +with ruthless accuracy, battering him into insanity of despair, so that +Ekstrom came back again and again without thought, animated only by +frenzied brute instinct to find the throat of his tormenter, and ever and +ever failing; till at length he crumpled and lay crushed and writhing, then +subsided into insensibility, was quite still but for heaving lungs and the +spasmodic clutchings of his broken and ensanguined fingers.... + +With a start, a broken sigh, a slight movement of the hand interpreting a +crushing sense of the futility of human passion, Lanyard relaxed, drew back +from standing over his antagonist, abstractedly found a handkerchief and +dried his hands, of a sudden so inexpressibly shamed and degraded in his +own sight that he dared not look the girl's way, but stood with hang-dog +air, avoiding her regard. + +Yet, could he have mustered up heart, he might have surprised in her eyes +a light to lift him out from this slough of humiliation, to obliterate +chagrin in a flood of wonder and--misgivings. + +When, however, he did after a moment turn to her, that look was gone, +replaced by one that reflected something of his own apprehension; for a +heavy hand was hammering on the study door, and more than one voice on the +other side was calling on "Karl" to open. + +Either the servant whom Lanyard had met and victimised on his way +downstairs had given the alarm, or else the noise of the encounter within +the study had brought that pack of spies to the door, wildly demanding +admission. + +Steadied by one swift exchange of alarmed glances with the girl, Lanyard +hastily reviewed the room, seeking some avenue of escape. None offered but +the windows. He ran to them, tore back their draperies, and found them +closed with shutters of steel and padlocked. + +Simultaneously the din at the door redoubled. + +With a worried shake Lanyard crossed to the chimney-piece, ducked his head, +and stepped into its huge fireplace. One upward glance sufficed to dash his +hopes: here was no way out, arduous though feasible; immediately above the +fireplace the flue narrowed so that not even the most active man of normal +stature might hope to negotiate its ascent. + +He returned with only a gesture of disconcertion to answer the girl's look +of appeal. + +"Can we do nothing?" she asked, raising her voice a trifle to make it heard +above the tumult in the corridor. + +"There's no help for it, I'm afraid," he said, going to the desk and taking +up the pistols--"nothing to do but shoot our way out, if we can. Take +this," he added, offering her one of the weapons, which she accepted +without spirit. "If you can't get your own consent to use it, give it to me +when I've emptied the other." + +She breathed a dismayed "Yes ..." and wonderingly consulted his face, since +he did not stir other than thoughtfully to replace his pistol on the desk, +then stood staring at his soot-smeared palms. + +"What is it?" she demanded nervously. "Why do you hesitate?" + +As one fretted by inconsequential questions, he merely shook his head, +glancing sidelong once at the unconscious Prussian, again with calculation +toward the door. + +This he saw quivering under repeated blows. + +With brusque decision he said: "Get a chair--brace it beneath the +door-knob, please!"--and leaving her without more explanation turned back +to the fireplace. + +Motionless, in dumb confusion, the girl stood staring after him till roused +by a blow of such splintering force as to suggest that an axe had been +brought into play upon the door, then ran to a ponderous club chair and +with considerable exertion managed to trundle it to the door and tip it +over, wedging its back beneath the knob. + +By this time it had become indisputably patent that an axe was battering +the panels. But the door, in character with the room, was a substantial +piece of workmanship and needed more than a few blows, even of an axe, to +break down its barrier of solid oak. + +She looked round to discover Lanyard kneeling beside Ekstrom, insanely--so +it seemed to the girl--engaged in blackening the upper half of the man's +face with a handful of soot. + +Unconsciously uttering a little cry of distress she sped to his side and +caught his shoulder with an importunate hand. + +"In Heaven's name, Monsieur Duchemin, what are you doing? Is this a time +for childishness--?" + +He responded with a smile of boyish mischief so genuine that her doubts of +his reason seemed all too well confirmed. + +"Making up my understudy," he said simply. And brushing his hands over the +rug to rid them of superfluous soot, Lanyard rose. "Please go back and +stand by the door--on the side of the hinges. I'll be with you in one +minute." + +Resigned to humour this lunatic whim--what else could she do?--the girl +retreated to the position designated, and watched with ever darker doubts +of his sanity, while Lanyard hurriedly drew the shells from his automatic +and carefully placed its butt in the slack grasp of Ekstrom's fingers. + +Then, lifting from a near-by table a great cut-glass bowl of flowers, the +adventurer inverted it over Ekstrom's body. + +Expending its full force upon the man's chest, that miniature deluge +splashed widely, wetting his face, half filling his open mouth. Some of +the soot was washed away, but not a great deal: enough stuck fast to suit +Lanyard's purpose. + +Roused by that cool shock, half strangled as well, Ekstrom coughed +violently, squirmed, spat out a mouthful of water, and lifted on an elbow, +still more than half dazed. + +Joining the girl by the door, Lanyard saw the Prussian sit up and glare +blankly round the room, a figure of tragic fun, drenched, woefully +disfigured, eyes rolling wildly in the wide spaces round them which Lanyard +had left unblackened. + +Swinging the club chair away from the door, the adventurer placed it with +its back to the room. + +"Get down behind that," he indicated shortly, and drew the key from his +pocket. "Don't show yourself for your life. And let me have that pistol, +please." + +A bright triangular wedge of steel broke through one of the panels as he +fitted and turned the key in the lock. + +His wits clearing, Ekstrom saw him and with a howl of fury staggered to his +feet, clutching the unloaded pistol and endeavouring to level it for steady +aim. + +Simultaneously Lanyard turned the knob and let the door fly open, remaining +beside the chair that hid the girl. + +A knot of spies, O'Reilly and Velasco among them, whirled into the room, +pulled up at sight of that strange, grim figure, disguised beyond all +recognition by its half-mask of black, facing and menacing them with a +pistol. + +O'Reilly fired in the next breath, his shot echoed by half a dozen so +closely bunched as to resemble the rattle of a mitrailleuse. + +At the first report the pistol dropped from Ekstrom's grasp. He carried a +hand vaguely to his throat, staggered a single step, uttered a strangled +moan, and fell forward, his body fairly riddled, his death little short of +instantaneous. + +While the fusillade was still resounding Lanyard, seizing the girl's wrist, +unceremoniously dragged her from behind the chair and thrust her through +the door, retreating after her with his face to the roomfull, his pistol +ready. + +None of that lot paid him any heed, the attention of all wholly absorbed by +the tragedy their violent hands had wrought. Velasco, the first to stir, +ran forward and dropped to his knees beside the dead man. Others followed. + +Gently Lanyard drew the door to, locked it on the outside, and at the sound +of a choking cry from Cecelia Brooke, whirled smartly round, prepared if +need be to make good his promise to clear with gun-play a way to the street +though opposed by every inmate of the establishment. + +But the first face he saw was Crane's. + +The Secret Service man stood within a yard. To him as to a rock of refuge +Cecelia Brooke had flown, to his hand she was clinging like a frightened +child, trying to speak, failing because she choked on sobs and gasps of +horror. + +Behind him, on the landing at the head of the staircase, running up from +below, ascending to the upper storeys, were a score' or more of men of +sturdy and business-like bearing and indubitably American stamp. Of +these two were herding into a corner a little group of frightened German +servants. + +Lanyard's stare of astonishment was met by Crane's twisted smile. + +"My friend," he said, as quietly as anyone could with his accent of a +quizzical buzz-saw, "I sure got to hand it to you. Every time I try to pull +anything off on the dead quiet you beat me to it clean. Everywhere I think +you ain't and can't be, that's just where you are. But I ain't complaining; +I got to admit, if you hadn't staged your act to occupy the minds of those +gents in there, we might've had a lot more difficulty raiding this joint." + +Quickly he wound an arm round the waist of Cecelia Brooke when, without +warning, she swayed blindly and would have fallen. + +"Here, now!" he protested. "That's no way to do.... Why, she's flickered +out! Well, Monsieur Duchemin-Lanyard-Ember, to a man up a tree this looks +like your job. You take this little lady off my hands and see her home, and +I'll just naturally try and finish what I started--or what you did. For, +son, I got to give you credit: you sure are one grand li'l trouble-hound!" + + + + +XXI + +QUESTION + + +Through the breathing hush of that dark hour which foreruns the dawn, that +hour in which the head that knows a wakeful pillow is prone to sudden +and disquieting apprehension of its insignificance and it's soul's dread +isolation, the cab sped swiftly south upon the Avenue, shadowed reaches of +the park upon its right, upon its left the dull, tired faces of those homes +whose tenants lay wrapped in the cotton-wool of riches. + +The rain had ceased. A little wind was blowing up. There was a fresh +smell in the air. Sidewalks began to be maculated with spreading areas of +dryness, but the roadway was still wet and shining, the wide black mirror +of a myriad lights. + +Through the windows of the speeding cab an orderly procession of street +lamps, marching past, threw each its fugitive and pallid glimmer. Periods +of modified darkness intervened, when the face of the girl in her corner +seemed a vision subtle and wraithlike. But ever the recurrent lights +revealed her sweetly incarnate if deep in enervation of crushing weariness. + +Once she stirred and sighed profoundly; and Lanyard, bending toward her, +asked if he could be in any way of service. + +She replied in an undertone scarcely better than a whisper: "Thank you, I +am quite comfortable.... Please--what time is it?" + +The cab was passing Sixtieth Street. Lanyard caught a fleeting glimpse of a +street clock with a dial like a little golden moon. + +"It's just four." + +"Thank you...." + +"Very tired?" + +"Very...." + +He had the maddest notion that her head inclined to droop toward his +shoulder. Perhaps the motion of the cab.... If so, she recovered easily. + +"Can I do anything?" + +"No, thank you, only ..." An ungloved hand stirred from her lap and for +the merest instant rested lightly above his own, or hovered rather, barely +touching it with a touch tenuous and elusive, no sooner realised than gone. +"I mean," she murmured, "I am a bit too overwrought, too tired, to talk." + +"I quite understand," he said. "Please forget I'm here; just rest." + +Perhaps she smiled drowsily. Or was that, too, a freak of his imagination? +Lanyard assured himself it was, in excess of consideration even tried to +persuade himself he had dreamed that ghost of a caress upon his hand. It +seemed so little like her. + +Not that anything had happened more than a gesture of transient +inadvertence due to fatigue. It could not have been intentional, that act +of intimacy, when the girl was altogether engrossed in young Thackeray. + +There was something one must not forget, something that gave the lie flatly +to that innuendo of the Weringrode's. Ignorant of the circumstances the +intrigante had leaped blindly at conclusions, after the habit of her kind. + +True, Sophie had not implied that this girl cared for him, but vice versa: +either supposition, however, was as absurd as the other. As if Lanyard +could love a woman who loved another! As if the name of love meant aught +to him but the memory of a sweetness like a vagrant air of Spring that had +breathed fitfully for a season upon the Winter of his heart! + +A corner of Lanyard's mouth lifted in a sneer. That precious heart of +his! the heart of a thief upon which even now the fruits of his thieving +weighed.... + +Irritated, he wrenched his thoughts into another channel, and began to +piece together inconsecutive snatches of information gained from Crane +in the confusion of the quarter hour just past, while the Secret Service +operatives were busy rounding up the inmates of that spy-fold and searching +for evidences of their impudent activities. + +It appeared that Washington had at length, however tardily, roused out of +its inertia and at midnight had telegraphed instructions to arrest out +of hand every enemy alien in the land against whom there was evidence of +conspiracy or even a ponderable suspicion. + +So unexpected was this order that Crane had volunteered to show Cecelia +Brooke that midnight rendezvous of the Prussian spy system without the +least notion that he might be required before morning to lead a raiding +force against the establishment; and even when a messenger stopped him as +he turned to enter Au Printemps, he was not advised concerning the cause of +this demand for his immediate presence at headquarters. + +The first cast of what Crane aptly termed the dragnet had brought in the +management and service staff to a man, with a number of the restaurant's +habitues, including Sophie Weringrode and her errand-boy, the exquisite Mr. +Revel. + +Velasco, however, had somehow mysteriously managed to slip through the +meshes and had straightway hastened to spread the alarm. + +As for O'Reilly and Dressier, they had left with Ekstrom in pursuit of +Lanyard less than five minutes before, and so had escaped not only arrest +but all knowledge of the raid prior to their return to Seventy-ninth +Street. + +The second cast of the net had been made at the latter place as soon as +the watchers were able to assure Crane that Ekstrom and O'Reilly had +returned--Dressier having anticipated them there by something like half an +hour. + +By daybreak, then, these gentry would be interned on Ellis Island.... + +And break of day impended visibly in grayish shades that stole westward +through the cross-town streets like clouds of secret agents spying out the +city against invasion by the serried lances of the sun. + +A garish twilight washed Forty-second Street from wall to wall by the time +the car swung round in front of the Knickerbocker. As yet, however, there +was little evidence that the town was growing restive in its sleep with +premonition of the ardour of another day. + +Lanyard stepped down and offered the girl a hand in whose palm her slender +fingers rested lightly for an instant ere she passed on, while he turned to +bid the driver wait. Following, he overtook her in the entrance, where by +tacit consent both paused and lingered in an odd constraint. There was so +much to be said that was impossible to say just then. + +Visibly the woman drooped, betraying physical exhaustion in every line of +her pose, seeming scarcely strong enough to lift the silken lashes that +trembled upon cheeks a little drawn and pale, with the faintest of bluish +rings beneath the eyes. + +"I must not keep you," Lanyard broke the silence. "I merely wished to say +good-night and ... I am sorry." + +"Sorry?" she echoed. + +"That you had such an unhappy experience," he explained--"thanks to your +thoughtfulness for me. I do not deserve so much consideration; and that +only makes me feel all the more regretful." + +"It was silly of me," she admitted with a shadowy, rueful smile. "I'm +afraid my silliness makes too much trouble...." + +He commented honestly: "I don't understand." + +"If I had only been patient enough to wait for you to call me...." + +"Forgive that oversight. I was pressed for time, as you may imagine." + +"Oh, it all comes back to my own stupidity. I might have known you had come +through all right." + +"How should you?" + +"Why not?--when you turn up here in New York safe and sound after being +drowned on the _Assyrian_!--as if that were not proof enough that you bear +a charmed life!" + +"Charmed!" he laughed. + +"And you haven't yet told me how you survived that adventure." + +"You are kind to be interested, and I am unfortunate in never seeing you +save under circumstances unfavourable for yarn-spinning." + +"You might be more fortunate." + +"Only tell me how!" + +"If you cared to ask me to dine with you to-morrow--I mean, to-night--" + +"You would--?" + +He was distressed by consciousness that his voice had thrilled impetuously. +But perhaps she had not noticed; there was no change in the even +friendliness of her tone. + +"I'm as inquisitive as any woman that ever lived. Even if I wished to, I'm +afraid I shouldn't be able to resist an invitation to hear your Odyssey." + +"Delmonico's at eight?" + +"Thank you," she said primly. + +"You make me too happy. May I call for you?" + +"Please." She offered a hand whose touch he found cool, steady, and +impersonal. "Good morning, Mr. Ember." + +He stood in a stare while she went quickly through the lobby to a waiting +elevator, then roused and went back to his cab. + +It was by daylight that he reentered his rooms and found them tenanted by +a negro boy bound and gagged, bruised and sore, and scared beyond +intelligible expression. + +Freeing him and salving his injuries bodily and spiritual with a liberal +douceur, Lanyard exacted an oath of silence, then turned him out. + +He had approximately five hours to put in somehow before his appointment +with Colonel Stanistreet at nine, and was too well versed in the lore of +late hours to think of giving any part of that time to sleep. By so doing +he would only insure a mutinous awakening, with mind and body sluggish and +unrested. If, on the other hand, he remained awake, he would go to that +interview in a state of supernormal animation exceedingly to be desired if +he were to round out this adventure without discredit. + +For its end was not yet. He had still a part to play whose lines were not +yet written, whose business remained to be invented. He neither dared +shirk that appointment, for reasons of policy, nor wished to, while there +remained reparation to be accomplished, a wrong to be righted, justice to +be done, a question to be answered. + +Only when these matters had been put in order would he feel his honour +discharged of its burdens, himself free once more to drop out and go in +peace his lonely ways in life, ways henceforth to be both lonely and +aimless. + +For, when he strove to peer into the future, only an emptiness confronted +him. With Ekstrom accounted for finally and forevermore, there was nothing +to come but the final accounting of the Lone Wolf with that civilization +which had bred and suffered him. + +One way presented itself to make that reckoning even. The Foreign Legion of +France asks no embarrassing questions of its recruits, and enlistment in +its ranks offers with anonymity a consoling certainty. + +Thus alone might he find his way home to the heart of that enigma whence he +had emerged, a nameless waif astray in grim Parisian by-ways.... + +This vision of his end contenting him, he began to scheme a campaign +for the day that was simple enough in prospect: a little chicanery with +Stanistreet, a personal appeal to Crane to restore the passports of +Monsieur Andre Duchemin which must have been found on Ekstrom's body, a +berth on some steamer sailing for Europe, then the last evanishment. + +One detail alone troubled him, his promise to the Brooke girl that she +should dine with him that night. + +Reminded of this obligation, figuratively he seized Michael Lanyard by the +scruff of his neck and shook him with a savage hand. What insensate folly +was ever his, what want of wit and strength to keep out of temptation's +ways! Why must he have fallen in so readily with her suggestion? Why this +infatuate thirst for sympathy, this eagerness to violate the seals of +reticence at the wish of a strange woman? Was there any reasonable +explanation of the strange lack of his wonted self-sufficiency in the +company of Cecelia Brooke? + +No matter. If he might not contrive somehow to squirm out of that +engagement, he could at all events school himself to decent reticence. He +promised himself to make his account of the submarine adventure drearily +bald and trite, to minimize to the last degree his part therein, above all +things to refrain from painting the Lone Wolf in romantic colours. + +She was much too good a sort, too straight, sincere, fair-minded, +honest--the sort of girl who deserved the Thackeray sort of man, never a +thief. + +If she even dreamed.... + +Lanyard brought forth from its hiding place the necklace, weighed it in +his hand, examined it minutely. Granting its marvellous perfection, he +recognized no more its beauty, dispassionately reviewed in turn each stone +of matchless loveliness, no more susceptible to their seductive purity, +perceiving in them nothing but hard, bright, translucent pebbles, cold, +soulless, cruel. + +One by one they slipped through his fingers like beads of an unholy rosary. + +At length, crushing them together in the hollow of his palm, he stood a +while in thought, then turning to his writing-desk bundled the necklace in +wrappings of white tissue secured with rubber bands, counted carefully the +sheaf of bills he had taken from Ekstrom, sealed the whole amount in a +plain, long envelope, and put this aside in company with the necklace. + +Already two hours had passed and, since he meant to call at the house on +West End Avenue well in advance of the hour when Cecelia Brooke might be +there--presuming Blensop to have given her the same appointment as he had +given "Mr. Ember," that is, nine o'clock--it was now time to prepare. + +Returning to his bedchamber, he laid out a carefully selected change of +clothing, shaved, parboiled himself in a hot bath, chilled him to the +pith in one of icy coldness, and dressed with scrupulous heed to detail, +studiously effacing every sign of his sleepless night. + +That experience was in no way to be surmised from his appearance when he +sallied forth to breakfast at the Plaza. + +At eight precisely, presenting himself at the Stanistreet residence, he +desired the footman to announce him as the author of a certain telegram +from Edgartown. + +He was obliged to wait less than a minute, the footman returning in haste +to request him to step into the library. + +This apartment--which he found much as he had last seen it, eight hours +ago, its window shattered, the portieres down, the furniture in some +disorder--was, on his introduction, occupied by two persons, one an +elderly, iron-gray gentleman of untidy dress and unobtrusive habit in spite +of a discerning cool, gray eye, the other Mr. Blensop in the neatest of +one-button morning-coat effects, with striped trouserings neither too smart +nor too sober for that state of life unto which it had pleased God to call +him, and fair white spats. + +If his attire was radiant, so was the temper of the secretary sunny. He +tripped forward in sprightliest fashion, offering cordial hands to the +caller till he recognized him, and even then was discountenanced only for +the briefest moment. + +"My dear Mr. Ember!" he purred soothingly--"why didn't you tell me last +night it was you who had sent that telegram? If I had for a moment +suspected the truth you should have had your appointment with Colonel +Stanistreet at any hour you might have cared to name, no matter how +ungodly!" + +Lanyard bowed gravely. "Thank you," he said. "And Colonel Stanistreet--?" + +"Is just finishing breakfast. He will be down directly. Please be seated, +make yourself entirely at ease. And will you excuse me--?" + +"With pleasure," Lanyard assured him, his gravity unbroken. + +A doubt clouded Mr. Blensop's bright eyes, but its transit was +instantaneous. He turned forthwith to join the iron-gray man before the +portrait which concealed the safe. + +"And now, Mr. Stone," said Mr. Blensop, with indulgence. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Stone quietly, "if you'll be good enough to show me +how this contraption works, maybe I'll find out something interesting, +maybe not." + +Mr. Blensop proceeded to oblige by operating the lever and sliding aside +the portrait. + +"Thanks," said Mr. Stone, producing a magnifying glass from a waistcoat +pocket and beginning to peer myopically at the face of the safe. "I take +it nobody's been pawing over this since the late, as you might say, +unpleasantness?" + +"Not a soul has touched it. By Colonel Stanistreet's order it was covered +as soon as we found it had been tampered with." + +"_Um-m_," Mr. Stone acknowledged, bending close to his work. + +Partially, perhaps, by way of administering an urbane rebuke to Lanyard for +his readiness to dispense with his society, Mr. Blensop remained in +the neighbourhood of Mr. Stone, hovering round him like a domesticated +humming-bird. + +"Do you find anything?" he enquired, when Stone straightened up. + +"Fingerprints a-plenty," Mr. Stone admitted with a hint of temper--"a slew +of the damn things. Looks like you must've called in the neighbours to help +make a good show. However, we'll see what we can make of 'em." + +He conjured from some recess in his clothing a squat bottle, from another a +stopper in which was fitted a blowpipe, joined the two together, approached +the safe with one end of the pipe between his lips and sprayed it with a +thin film of white powder, the contents of the bottle. + +"I say, do tell me what that's for?" + +"That," said Mr. Stone patiently, "is to make the fingerprints stand out, +so we can get a good likeness of 'em." + +He put the bottle aside, blinked at the safe approvingly, and by further +exercise of powers of legerdemain materialized a pocket kodak and a +flashlight pistol. + +"Can't I help you?" Blensop offered eagerly. "I used to be rather a dab at +amateur photography, you know." + +"Well, I'm kind of stuck on pressing the button myself," Stone confessed, +adjusting the focus. "But if you want to work that flashlight, I don't +mind." + +"Delighted," Mr. Blensop asserted. "How does it go, now?" + +"Like this." Stone set his camera down to demonstrate. "Now just stand +behind me," he concluded, "and pull the trigger when I say 'now'." + +"I'll do my best, but--I say--will it bang?" + +Stone had taken up the camera once more. His sole answer was a grunt upon +which his hearers placed two distinct interpretations--Lanyard's affording +him considerable gratification. + +"If you're ready," said Stone--"_now_" + +Mr. Blensop squinted unbecomingly and pressed the trigger. A vivid flare +lifted from the pan of the pistol, and winked out in a cloud of vapour, +slowly dissipating. + +"Is that all?" + +"Yes, sir--that's all of that." Stone stowed the camera away about his +person and from another cranny produced a small cardboard box of glass +slides, one of which he offered. "Now if you'll just run your fingers +through your hair and rest them on this slide, light but steady...." + +"What for?" Blensop demanded with a giggle of nervous reluctance. "You +don't think I'm the thief, do you?" + +"No, sir, I don't. But if I haven't got your fingerprints, how am I going +to tell them from the thief's?" + +"Oh, I see," Blensop said with a note of allayed apprehension, and put +himself on record. + +The door opening to admit Colonel Stanistreet, Lanyard rose. At sight of +him the Englishman checked and stared enquiringly, his eyes shadowed by +careworn brows; for it was apparent that, if the events of the night had +not depressed the spirits of the secretary, his employer had known little +sleep or none since the burglary. + +"Colonel Stanistreet," Blensop said melodiously, abandoning Stone to his +unsupervised devices, "this is Mr. Ember, the gentleman who called last +night before you got home. It appears he is the person who sent us that +telegram from Edgartown day before yesterday." + +"Indeed? Ember is not the name with which the message was signed." + +"The message was purposely left unsigned," Lanyard explained. + +Stanistreet nodded approval. "I am glad to meet you, Mr. Ember," he said, +offering a hand. "Be seated. I am most anxious first to express our +gratitude, next to learn how you came by your information." + +"You will find it an interesting story." + +"No doubt of that." Stanistreet took the desk chair, opened a cigar +humidor, and offered it. "I shall be even more interested, however," he +said with an evanescent trace of humour, "to know who the devil you are, +sir." + +"That is something I am prepared to prove to your satisfaction." + +"If you will be so good.... But excuse me for one moment." Stanistreet +turned in his chair. "Mr. Stone?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Have you finished with the safe? If so, I want my secretary to check over +its contents carefully and make sure nothing else is missing." + +"I'm all through with it, Colonel Stanistreet. Now, if you don't mind, +I'm going to mouse around and see if I can nose out anything else that's +useful." + +"That shall be entirely as you will. Now, Blensop"--Stanistreet nodded to +the secretary--"let us make certain...." + +"Yes, sir." + +Blithely Mr. Blensop addressed himself to the safe. + +"There has been an accident of some sort, Colonel Stanistreet?" Lanyard +enquired civilly, nodding toward the shattered French window. + +"A burglary, sir." + +"The criminal escaped--?" + +Stanistreet nodded. "Our watchman surprised him, and was shot for his +pains--not seriously, I'm happy to say. The burglar got himself tangled +up in that window, but extricated in time, and went over the garden wall +before we could determine which way he had taken." + +"I trust you lost nothing of value?" + +Stanistreet shrugged. "Unhappily, we did--a diamond necklace, the property +of my sister-in-law, and--ah--a document we could ill afford to part +with.... But you offered to show me credentials, I believe." + +"Such as they are," Lanyard replied. "My passports and letters were stolen +from me. But these, I think, should serve as well to prove my bona fides." + +He laid out in order upon the desk his plunder from the safe aboard the +U-boat--all but the money--the three cipher codes, the log, the diary +of the commander, the directory of German secret agents, and such other +documents as he had selected. + +The first Colonel Stanistreet took up with a dubious frown which swiftly +lightened, yielding, as he pursued his examination into the papers and +began to recognize their surpassing value to the Allied cause, to a subdued +glimmer of gratulatory excitement. + +But he was at pains to satisfy himself as to the authenticity of each paper +in turn, providing a lull for which Lanyard was not ungrateful since it +gave him a chance to adjust his understanding to an unexpected development +in the affair. + +He lounged at ease, smoking, his eyes, half-veiled by lowered lids, keenly +reviewing the room and its tenants. + +Stone, the detective (an operative, Lanyard rightly inferred, of the +American Secret Service, loaned to the British in order to keep the +burglary out of police records and newspapers), had wandered out into the +garden that glowed with young April sunlight beyond the windows. From +time to time he was to be seen stooping and inspecting the earth with the +gravity of an earnest, efficient, sober-sided sleuth of the old school. + +Blensop was busy before the safe, extracting the contents of each +pigeonhole in turn, thumbing its dockets of papers, checking each off upon +a typewritten list several pages in length. + +To that lithe and debonair figure Lanyard's gaze oftenest reverted. + +So not only had the necklace been stolen but "a document" which the British +Secret Service "could ill afford to part with"! + +Lanyard entertained no least doubt as to the identity of the document in +question. There could be but one, he felt, which Stanistreet would so +characterize. + +That document had not been in the safe when Lanyard had opened it at +midnight. + +After a moment Mr. Blensop uttered a musical note of vexation. The lead of +his pencil had broken. He threw it pettishly aside, came over to the desk, +took up a penholder, dipped it in the ink-well, and returned to his task. + + + + +XXII + +CHICANE + + +Colonel Stanistreet put down the last of the papers and slapped his hand +upon it resoundingly. + +"This is one of the most remarkable collections of data, I venture to +assert, that has ever come into the hands of the British Government. Have +you any idea of its value?" + +Lanyard lifted a whimsical eyebrow. "Some," he admitted drily. + +"And what do you ask for it, sir?" + +"Nothing." + +The gaze of the Englishman bored into his eyes; but he met their challenge +with an unshaken countenance, smiling. + +"My dear sir," Stanistreet demanded--"who are you?" + +"The name under which I sailed for New York on board the _Assyrian_," +Lanyard announced quietly, "was Andre Duchemin." + +Disturbed by a startled exclamation, together with a sound of shuffling and +a slight thump, he looked round in mild curiosity to see Blensop staggered +and astare, standing over a litter of documents which had slipped from his +grasp to the floor. Mastering his emotion quickly enough, the secretary +knelt with a mumbled apology and began to pick up the papers. + +With no more notice of the incident Lanyard returned undivided attention to +Colonel Stanistreet. + +"I had another name," he confessed, "and a reputation none too savoury, +as, I daresay, you know. Through the courtesy of the British Intelligence +Office I was permitted to disguise these; but on the _Assyrian_ I was +recognized--in short, ran afoul of German Secret Service agents who knew +me, but whom I did not know. On the sixth night out circumstances conspired +to make me seem a serious obstacle to their schemes. Consequently I was +waylaid, robbed, and thrown overboard. Within the next few minutes a +torpedo struck the ship and the submarine which fired it came up under me +as I struggled to keep afloat. By passing myself off as a Boche spy, I +succeeded in inducing the commander to take me below, and so reached the +Martha's Vineyard base. There chance played into my hands: I contrived to +sink the U-boat and escape, as reported in my telegram." + +During a brief silence he found opportunity to observe that Mr. Blensop was +working with hands that trembled singularly. + +"Incredible!" Stanistreet commented. + +"Yet here is proof," Lanyard asserted, indicating the papers beneath +Stanistreet's hand. + +"My dear sir, I didn't mean--" + +"Pardon!" Lanyard smiled, with a lifted hand. "I never thought you did, +Colonel Stanistreet. But it is your duty to make sure you are not imposed +upon by plausible adventurers. Therefore--since my papers have been +stolen--I am glad to be able to prove my identity with Andre Duchemin by +referring to survivors of the _Assyrian_ disaster, among others Mr. Sherry, +the second officer, Mr. Crane of the United States Secret Service, and a +countrywoman of yours, a Miss Cecelia Brooke, whose acquaintance I was +fortunate enough to make." + +Stanistreet nodded heavily, and consulted his watch. "Miss Brooke," he +said, "should be here shortly. Blensop made an appointment with her last +night, which I confirmed by telephone this morning." + +"Then, with permission, I shall remain and ask her to vouch for me," +Lanyard suggested in resignation, since it appeared he was not to be +permitted to escape this girl, that destiny was not yet finished with their +entanglement. + +"I shall be glad if you will, sir.... Monsieur Duchemin," Stanistreet +began, but hesitated--"or do you prefer another style?" + +"I am content with Duchemin." + +"That is a matter for your own discretion, but I should warn you it may +already have acquired an evil odour on this side. To my knowledge it has +been used within the last twenty-four hours, and the pretensions of its +wearer supported by your stolen credentials." + +"I am not surprised," Lanyard stated reflectively. "A chap with a beard, +perhaps?" + +"Why, yes...." + +"Anderson," the adventurer nodded: "that, at least, was his alias when he +jockeyed himself into the second steward's berth aboard the _Assyrian_." + +He glanced idly across the room, discovered Blensop once more at pause in a +stare, and grinned amiably. + +"He came here last night," Stanistreet volunteered deliberately-- +"representing himself as Andre Duchemin--to sell me a certain paper, the +same which subsequently, I am convinced, he returned to steal." + +"And did," Lanyard added. + +"And did," the Briton conceded. "Now you have told me who he is, I promise +you every effort shall be made to apprehend him and prevent further misuse +of the name you have assumed." + +"It has," Lanyard said tersely. + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"I say every effort has been made--and successfully--to accomplish the ends +you mention." + +"What's that you say?" Blensop demanded shrilly, crossing to the desk. + +"My secretary," Stanistreet explained, "was present at the interview, and +is naturally interested." + +"And very good of him, I'm sure," Lanyard agreed. "I was about to explain, +Mr. Blensop, that Ekstrom, alias Anderson, was killed in the course of +a raid on the Prussian spy headquarters in Seventy-ninth Street this +morning." + +"Amazing!" Blensop gasped. "I am glad to hear it," he added, and went +slowly back to his task. + +"I may as well tell you, sir," Lanyard pursued, "I have every reason to +believe the document sold you last night was one of those stolen from me." + +Stanistreet wagged a contentious head. + +"I cannot conceive how it could have come into your possession, sir." + +"Simply enough. Miss Brooke requested me to take care of it for her." + +The eyes of the Englishman grew stony. "Miss Brooke!" he repeated testily. +"I don't understand." + +"It was a document--I do not seek to know its nature from you, sir--of +vital importance in this present crisis, with the United States newly +entered into the war." + +Stanistreet affirmed with an inclination of his head. + +"I may tell you this much, Monsieur Duchemin: if it had not reached this +country safely.... What am I saying? If it be not recovered without delay, +the chances of America's early and efficient participation in the war will +suffer a tremendous setback ... Blensop, be good enough to call up the +American Secret Service at once and ask whether the document in question +was found on the body of this--ah--Ekstrom." + +"Pardon," Lanyard interposed as Blensop hesitantly approached the +telephone. "It would be a waste of time. I happen to know, because I was +there, that no such document was found on Ekstrom's body." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet grumbled. "What can have become of it? This +business grows only the blacker the deeper one seeks to fathom it. I +must own myself completely at a loss. How it came into the hands of Miss +Brooke--" + +"I can explain that, I think. The document was in the care of two +gentlemen, Mr. Bartholomew and Lieutenant Thackeray. The former was +murdered by the Huns in search of it, Lieutenant Thackeray murderously +assaulted. But for Miss Brooke's intervention the assassins must have +succeeded. As it was, the young woman herself found it and, one presumes, +took charge of it because her fiance was incapacitated, and possibly with +the notion that she might thereby prevent further mischief of the same +nature." + +"Her fiance?" Stanistreet echoed blankly. + +"Lieutenant Thackeray--" + +"Her brother, sir!" the Briton laughed. "Thackeray was his nom de service." + +It was Lanyard's turn to stare. "Ah!" he murmured. "A light begins to +dawn...." + +"Upon me as well," Stanistreet confessed. "Miss Brooke and her brother are +orphans and, before the war, were inseparable companions. I do not doubt +that, learning he had been commissioned with an uncommonly perilous errand, +she booked passage by the _Assyrian_ without his consent, in order to be +near him in event of danger." + +"This explains much," Lanyard conceded--"much that perplexed more than one +can say." + +"But in no way advances us on the trail of the purloined document." + +"I am afraid, sir," Lanyard lied deliberately, "you may as well abandon all +hope of ever seeing it again. Ekstrom made away with it: no question about +that. There was time enough and to spare between his exploit here and his +death for him to deliver it to safe hands. It is doubtless decoded by this +time, a copy of it already well on the way to the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"I am afraid," Stanistreet echoed--"I am very much afraid you are right." + +His thick, spatulate fingers of an executive drummed heavily upon the desk. + +Stone's figure darkened the windows. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" he called diffidently. + +"Yes, Mr. Stone?" + +"There's something here I'd like to consult you about, sir, if you can +spare a minute." + +"Certainly." The Englishman rose. "If you will excuse me, Monsieur +Duchemin...." Half way to the windows he hesitated. "By the bye, Blensop, I +wish you'd call up Apthorp and ask after Howson's condition." + +"Very good, sir," Blensop intoned cheerfully. + +"And do it without delay, please. I don't like to think of the poor fellow +suffering." + +"Immediately, sir." + +As his employer passed out into the garden with Stone, the secretary +discontinued his checking and came over to the desk, drawing up a chair and +sitting down to telephone. At the same time Lanyard got up and began to +pace thoughtfully to and fro. + +"Howson is the wounded night watchman, I take it, Mr. Blensop?" + +"Yes--an excellent fellow.... Schuyler nine, three hundred," Blensop cooed +into the transmitter. + +Conceivably that ostensible discomfiture whose symptoms Lanyard had +remarked had been a transitory humour. Mr. Blensop was now in what seemed +the most equable and blithe of tempers. His very posture at the telephone +eloquently betokened as much: he had thrown himself into the chair with +picturesque nonchalance, sitting with body half turned from the desk, his +right hand holding the receiver to his ear, his left thrust carelessly +into his trouser pocket, thus dragging back the lapel of that impeccable +morning-coat and exposing the bright cap of his gold-mounted fountain pen. + +Something in that implement seemed to possess for Lanyard overpowering +fascination. His gaze yearned for it, returned again and again to it. + +He changed his course to stroll up and down behind Blensop, between him and +the safe. + +"I understood Colonel Stanistreet to say the watchman was not seriously +injured, I believe," he observed, with interest. + +"Shot through the shoulder, that is all.... Schuyler nine, three hundred? +Dr. Apthorp, please. This is Mr. Blensop speaking, secretary to Colonel +Stanistreet.... Are you there, Dr. Apthorp?" + +With professional dexterity Lanyard en passant dropped a hand over the +young man's shoulder and lightly lifted the pen from its place in the +pocket of Blensop's waistcoat; the even tempo of his step unbroken, he +tossed it toward the safe, where it fell without sound upon a heavy Persian +rug. + +"Yes--about Howson," the musical accents continued, "Colonel Stanistreet is +most solicitous...." + +Swiftly Lanyard moved toward the safe, glanced through the French windows +to assure himself that Stanistreet and Stone were safely preoccupied, +whipped out the envelope he had prepared, and thrust it into a file of +papers which did not crowd its pigeonhole; accomplishing the complete +manoeuvre with such adroitness that, like the business of the pen, it +passed utterly without the knowledge of the secretary. + +"Thank you so much. _Good_ morning, Dr. Apthorp." + +Lanyard was passing the desk when Blensop rose, and the footman was +entering with his salver. + +"A lady to see Colonel Stanistreet, sir--by appointment, she says." + +Blensop glanced at the card. At the same time Stanistreet came in from the +garden, leaving Stone to potter about visibly in the distance. + +"Miss Brooke is here, sir," the secretary announced. + +"Ask her to come in, please." + +The footman retired. + +"Howson is resting easily, Dr. Apthorp reports," Blensop added, going back +to the safe. "Has Stone turned up anything of interest, sir?" + +"Footprints," Stanistreet replied with a snort of moderate impatience. +"He's quite upset since I've informed him the man who made them is--" + +"_Good God_!" + +The interruption was Blensop's in a voice strangely out of tune. +Stanistreet wheeled sharply upon him. + +"What the deuce--!" he snapped. + +By every indication the secretary had suffered the most severe shock of his +experience. His face was ghastly, his eyes vacant; his knees shook beneath +him; one hand pressed convulsively the bosom of his waistcoat. His +endeavours to reply evoked only a husky, rattling sound. + +"What the devil has come over you?" Stanistreet insisted. + +The rattle became articulate: "I've lost it! It's gone!" + +"What have you lost?" + +"N-nothing, sir. That is--I mean to say--my fountain pen." + +"The way you take it, I should say you'd lost your head," Stanistreet +commented. "You must have dropped the thing somewhere. Look about, see if +you can't find it." + +Thus admonished, the secretary began to search the floor with frantic +glances, and as the footman ushered in Cecelia Brooke, Lanyard saw the +young man dart forward and retrieve the pen with a start of relief wellnigh +as unmanning as the shock of loss had seemed. + +With that Lanyard's interest in the fellow waned; he was too poor a thing +to consider seriously; while here was one who compelled anew, as ever when +they met, the homage of sincere and marvelling admiration. + +Yet another of those miracles of feminine adaptability and makeshift had +brought the girl to this meeting in the guise of one who had never known a +broken night or an hour's care, with a look of such fresh tranquility that +it seemed hardly possible she could be one and the same with that wilted +little woman whom Lanyard had left in the gray dawn at the entrance to the +Hotel Knickerbocker. A tailored suit, necessarily borrowed plumage, became +her so completely that it was difficult to believe it not her own. Her eyes +were calm and sweet with candour; her colour was a clear and artless glow; +the hand she offered the Briton was tremorless. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" + +"I am he, Miss Brooke. It is kind of you to call so early to relieve my +mind about your brother. I have known Lionel so long...." + +"He is resting easily," said the girl. "His complete recovery is merely a +matter of time and nursing." + +"That is good news," said Stanistreet. "Monsieur Duchemin I believe you +know." + +"I have been fortunate in that at least." + +Gravely Lanyard saluted the hand extended to him in turn. "Mademoiselle is +most gracious," he said humbly. + +"Then--I understand--Monsieur Duchemin must have told you--?" The girl +addressed Stanistreet. + +"Permit me to leave you--" Lanyard interposed. + +"No," she begged--"please not! I've nothing to say that you may not hear. +You have been too much involved--" + +"If mademoiselle insists," Lanyard demurred. "I feel it is not right I +should stay. And yet--if you will indulge me--I should like very much to +demonstrate the truth of an old saw...." + +Two confused looks were his response. + +"I fear I, for one, do not follow," Stanistreet admitted. + +"I will explain quite briefly," Lanyard promised. "The adage I have in mind +is as old as human wit: Set a thief to catch a thief. And the last time it +was quoted in my hearing, it was not to my advantage. I recall, indeed, +resenting it enormously." + +He paused with purpose, looking down at the desk. A pad of blank paper +caught his eye. He took it up and examined it with an abstracted manner. + +"Well, monsieur: the application of your adage?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, what would you think if I were to tell you the +combination of your safe?" + +"I should be inclined to suspect that you were the devil," Stanistreet +chuckled. + +"By all accounts a gentleman of intelligence: one is flattered.... Very +well: I proceed to demonstrate black art with the aid of this white +paper pad. The combination, monsieur, is as follows: nine, twenty-seven, +eighteen, thirty-six." + +A low cry of bewilderment greeted this announcement. Blensop had drawn near +and was eyeing Lanyard as if under the influence of hypnotism. + +"How--how do you know that?" he asked in a broken voice. + +"Clairvoyance, Mr. Blensop. I seem to see, as I hold this pad, somebody +writing upon it the combination for the information of another who had no +right to have it--somebody using a pencil with a hard lead, Mr. Blensop; +which was very foolish of him, since it made a distinct impression on the +under sheet. So you see my magic is rather colourless, after all.... Now, +a wiser man, Mr. Blensop, would have used a pen, a fountain pen by +preference, with a soft gold nib, well broken. That would leave no +impression. If you will lend me the beautiful pen I observe in your pocket, +I will give a further demonstration." + +The eyes of the secretary shifted wildly. He hesitated, moistening dry lips +with the tip of a nervous tongue. + +"And don't try to get out of it, Mr. Blensop, because I am armed and don't +mean to let you escape. Besides, that good Mr. Stone patrols the garden." +Lanyard's tone changed to one of command. "That pen, monsieur!" + +Blensop's hand faltered to his waistcoat pocket, hesitated, withdrew, and +feebly extended the pen. + +"I think you _are_ the devil," he stammered in an under-tone--"the devil +himself!" + +Deftly unscrewing the pen-point, Lanyard inverted the barrel above the +desk. + +The cylinder of paper dropped out. + +"And now, Colonel Stanistreet, if you will call Mr. Stone and have this +traitor removed...." + + + + +XXIII + +AMNESTY + + +When Stanistreet had gone out in company with Stone, and the broken, +weeping Blensop, ending a scene indescribably painful, a lull almost as +uncomfortable to Lanyard ensued. + +Then--"How did you guess?" Cecelia Brooke asked in wonder. + +Discountenanced by the admiration glowing in her eyes, Lanyard stood +fumbling with the disjointed members of Blensop's pen. + +"Do not give me too much credit," he depreciated: "anybody acquainted with +that roll of paper could have guessed that an empty fountain pen would +furnish an ideal place of concealment for it. Moreover, just before you +came in, that traitor missed his pen, and his consternation betrayed him +beyond more doubt to one whose distrust was already astir. As for the +other, it was true: Blensop did write down the combination on this pad, +using a pencil with a hard lead; the marks are very plain." + +"But for whose use?" + +"Ekstrom--Anderson--was here last night, and saw Blensop alone. Colonel +Stanistreet was not at home. Knowing what we know now, that Blensop was +a creature of the German system here, bought body, soul, and conscience +through its studied pandering to his vices, we know he could not well have +refused to surrender the combination on demand." + +"Still I fail to understand...." + +"Ekstrom, being Ekstrom, could not resist the opportunity to play double. +Here was a property he could sell to England at a stiff price. Why not +despoil the enemy, put the money in pocket, then return, steal the paper +anew for the use of Germany, and collect the stipulated reward from that +source? But he reckoned without Blensop's avarice, there; he showed Blensop +too plainly the way to profit through betraying both parties to a bargain; +Blensop saw no reason why he should not play the game that Ekstrom played. +So he stole it for himself, to sell to Germany, but being a poor, witless +fool, lacking Ekstrom's dash and audacity, was foredoomed to failure and +exposure." + +The girl continued to eye him steadfastly, and he as steadfastly to evade +her direct gaze. + +"Nothing that you tell me detracts from the wonder of your guessing so +accurately," she insisted. "Now I know what Mr. Crane said of you was true, +that you are one of the most extraordinary of men." + +"He was too kind when he said that," Lanyard protested wretchedly. "It is +not true. If you must know...." + +"Well, Monsieur Lanyard?" + +Her tone was that of a light-hearted girl, arch with provocation. Of a +sudden Lanyard understood that he might no longer stop here alone with her. + +"If you will be a little indulgent with me," he suggested, "I will try to +explain what I mean." + +"And how indulgent, monsieur?" + +"I have a whim to take the air in this garden. Will you accompany me?" + +"Why not?" + +As she led the way through the French windows, he noted with deeper +misgivings how her action matched the temper of her voice, how she seemed +to-day more deliciously alive and happier than any common mortal. + +So light her heart! And all since she had found him here! + +At his wits' ends, he conceded now what he had so long denied. With all her +wit and wisdom, with all her charm of beauty, winsomeness, and breeding, +with all her ingrained love of truth and honesty, she was no more than +Nature had meant her to be, a woman with woman's weakness for the man +she must admire. She liked him, divined in him latent qualities somehow +excellent. Something in him worked upon her imagination, something, no +doubt, in the overcoloured, romantic yarns current about the Lone Wolf, +and so had touched her heart. She liked him too well already, and she was +willing to like him better. + +But that must never be. He must rend ruthlessly apart this illusion of +romance with which she chose to transfigure the prowling parasite of night, +the sneaking thief.... + +The garden was sweet with the bright promise of Spring. A few weeks more, +and its formal walks would wend a riot of flowers. Now its sunlight made +amends for what it lacked in beauty of growing things; and its air was warm +and fragrant and still in the shelter of the red-brick walls. + +Midway down that walk, by the side of which a thief had skulked nine hours +ago, near that door whose lock had yielded to his cunning keys, the girl +paused and confronted Lanyard spiritedly as he came up with heavy step and +hang-dog head. + +"Well, monsieur?" she demanded. "Do you mean to tantalize me longer with +your reticence?" + +But something in the haggard eyes he showed her made the girl catch her +breath. + +"What is it?" she cried anxiously. "Monsieur Duchemin, what is your +trouble?" + +"Only this truth that I must tell you," he said bitterly: "I merely played +a part back there, just now. There was neither wit nor guess-work in that +business; once I had seen Blensop's panic over the fancied loss of his pen, +the rest was knowledge. I saw him and Ekstrom together last night--skulking +in those windows, I watched them; and though in my denseness I didn't +understand, I saw him write upon that pad, tear off and give the sheet to +Ekstrom. And I knew Ekstrom had not succeeded in stealing back what he had +sold to Colonel Stanistreet, knew he was guiltless in fact if not in deed." + +"But--how could you know that?" + +"Because I was there, in the room, when he entered it after it had been +shut up for the night." + +Conscious of her hands that fluttered like wounded things to her bosom, he +looked away in misery. + +"What were you doing there?" she whispered in the end. + +"Trying to find that paper, which I had seen Ekstrom sell to Colonel +Stanistreet, so that I might make good my promise and relieve your distress +by returning it to you. I had opened the safe before he entered, and +searched it thoroughly, and knew the paper was not there--though at that +time it never entered my thick head to suspect Blensop of treachery. It +was neither Blensop nor Ekstrom, Miss Brooke ... it was I who stole that +necklace." + +She made no sound and did not stir; and though he dared not look he knew +her stricken gaze was steadfast to his face. + +"I will say this much in my defence: I did not come with intent to steal, +but only to take back what had been stolen from me, and return it to you, +who had trusted it to my care. I wanted to do that, because I did not then +understand the ins and outs of this intrigue, and had no means of knowing +how deeply your honour might be involved." + +"But you did _not_ take that necklace!" + +"I am sorry.... I saw it, and could not resist it." + +"But Mr. Crane assured me you had given up all that sort of thing years +ago!" + +"Notwithstanding that, it seems I may not be trusted...." + +After another trying silence she declared vehemently: "I do not believe +you! You say this thing for some secret purpose of your own. For some +reason I can't understand you wish to abase yourself in my sight, to make +me think you capable of such infamy. Why--ah, monsieur!--why must you do +this?" + +"Because it isn't fair to represent myself as what I am not, mademoiselle. +Once a thief, always--" + +"No! It isn't true!" + +"Again I am sorry, but I know. You have been most generous to believe in +me. If anything could save me from myself, it would be your confidence. +That, I presume, is why I felt called upon to undo my thieving, and make +good the loss. The money Colonel Stanistreet paid Ekstrom is now in the +safe, back there in the library. The necklace is ... here." + +Blindly he thrust the tissue packet into her hands. + +"If you will consent to return it to its owner, when I have gone, I shall +be most grateful." + +Her hands shook so that, when she would open the packet, it escaped her +grasp and dropped into a little pool of rain-water which had collected in +a hollow of the walk. Lanyard picked it up, stripped off the soiled and +sodden paper, dried the necklace with his handkerchief, replaced it in her +hand. + +He heard the deep intake of her breath as she recognized its beauty, then +her quavering voice: "You give this back because of me...!" + +"Because I cannot be an ingrate. I know no other way to prove how I have +prized your faith in me.... And now, with your leave, I will go away +quietly by this garden gate--" + +"No--please, no!" + +"But--" + +"I have more to say to you. It isn't fair of you to go like this, when I--" + +She interrupted herself, and when next she spoke he was dashed by a change +in her voice from a tone of passionate expostulation to one of amused +animation. + +"Colonel Stanistreet!" she called clearly. "Do come here at once, please!" + +Startled, Lanyard saw that Stanistreet had appeared in the French windows +in company with Crane. In response to Cecelia's hail both came out into the +garden, Stanistreet briskly leading, Crane lounging at his heels, champing +his cigar, his weathered features knitted against the brightness of the +sun. + +"Good morning, Miss Brooke. Howdy, Lanyard--or are you Duchemin again?" he +said; but his salutations were lost in the wonder excited by the girl's +next move. + +"See, Colonel Stanistreet, what we have found!" she cried, and showed him +the necklace. "I mean, what Monsieur Duchemin found. It was he who saw it, +lying beneath that rose-bush over there. Your burglar must have dropped it +in making his escape; you can see the paper he wrapped it in, all rain-wet +and muddied." + +Stanistreet's eyes protruded alarmingly, and his face grew very red before +he found breath enough to ejaculate: "God bless my soul!" Breathing hard, +he accepted the necklace from Cecelia's hands. "I must--excuse me--I must +tell my sister-in-law about this immediately!" + +He turned and trotted hastily back into the house. + +Crane lingered but a moment longer. His cheek, as ever, was bulging round +his everlasting cigar. Was his tongue therein as well? Lanyard never knew; +the man's eyes remained inscrutable for all the kindly shrewdness that +glimmered amid their netted wrinkles. + +"Excuse _me_!" he said suddenly. "I got to tell the colonel something." + +He got lankily into motion and presently passed in through the windows.... + +Irresistibly her gaze drew Lanyard's. He lifted careworn eyes and realized +her with a great wistfulness upon him. + +She awaited in silence his verdict, her chin proudly high, her face +adorably flushed, her shining eyes level and brave to his, her generous +hands outstretched. + +"Must you go now?" she said tenderly, as he stood hesitant and shamed. +"Must you go now, my dear?" + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The False Faces, by Louis Joseph Vance + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + +***** This file should be named 9908.txt or 9908.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/0/9908/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, Tom +Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The False Faces + +Author: Vance, Louis Joseph + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9908] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 30, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, +Tom Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +THE FALSE FACES + +FURTHER ADVENTURES FROM THE HISTORY OF THE LONE WOLF + +BY LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE + +1918 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I Out of No Man's Land + +II From a British Port + +III In the Barred Zone + +IV In Deep Waters + +V On the Banks + +VI Under Suspicion + +VII In Stateroom 29 + +VIII Off Nantucket + +IX Sub Sea + +X At Base + +XI Under the Rose + +XII Resurrection + +XIII Reincarnation + +XIV Defamation + +XV Recognition + +XVI Au Printemps + +XVII Finesse + +XVIII Danse Macabre + +XIX Force Majeure + +XX Riposte + +XXI Question + +XXII Chicane + +XXIII Amnesty + + + + +I + +OUT OF NO MAN'S LAND + + +On the muddy verge of a shallow little pool the man lay prone and still, as +still as those poor dead whose broken bodies rested all about him, where +they had fallen, months or days, hours or weeks ago, in those grim contests +which the quick were wont insensately to wage for a few charnel yards of +that debatable ground. + +Alone of all that awful company this man lived and, though he ached with +the misery of hunger and cold and rain-drenched garments, was unharmed. + +Ever since nightfall and a brisk skirmish had made practicable an +undetected escape through the German lines, he had been in the open, +alternately creeping toward the British trenches under cover of darkness +and resting in deathlike immobility, as he now rested, while pistol-lights +and star-shells flamed overhead, flooding the night with ghastly glare +and disclosing in pitiless detail that two-hundred-yard ribbon of earth, +littered with indescribable abominations, which set apart the combatants. +When this happened, the living had no other choice than to ape the dead, +lest the least movement, detected by eyes that peered without rest through +loopholes in the sandbag parapets, invite a bullet's blow. + +Now it was midnight, and lights were flaring less frequently, even as +rifle-fire had grown more intermittent ... as if many waters might quench +out hate in the heart of man! + +For it was raining hard--a dogged, dreary downpour drilling through a heavy +atmosphere whose enervation was like the oppression of some malign and +inexorable incubus; its incessant crepitation resembling the mutter of +a weary, sullen drum, dwarfing to insignificance the stuttering of +machine-guns remote in the northward, dominating even a dull thunder of +cannonading somewhere down the far horizon; lowering a vast and shimmering +curtain of slender lances, steel-bright, close-ranked, between the trenches +and over all that weary land. Thus had it rained since noon, and thus--for +want of any hint of slackening--it might rain for another twelve hours, or +eighteen, or twenty-four.... + +The star-rocket, whose rays had transfixed him beside the pool, paled and +winked out in mid-air, and for several minutes unbroken darkness obtained +while, on hands and knees, the man crept on toward that gap in the British +barbed-wire entanglements which he had marked down ere daylight waned, +shaping a tolerably straight course despite frequent detours to avoid the +unspeakable. Only once was his progress interrupted--when straining senses +apprised him that a British patrol was taking advantage of the false truce +to reconnoitre toward the enemy lines, its approach betrayed by a nearing +_squash_ of furtive feet in the boggy earth, the rasp of constrained +respiration, a muttered curse when someone slipped and narrowly escaped a +fall, the edged hiss of an officer's whisper reprimanding the offender. +Incontinently he who crawled dropped flat to the greasy mud and lay +moveless. + +Almost at the same instant, warned by a trail of sparks rising in a long +arc from the German trenches, the soldiers imitated his action, and, as +long as those triple stars shone in the murk, made themselves one with him +and the heedless dead. Two lay so close beside him that the man could have +touched either by moving a hand a mere six inches; he was at pains to do +nothing of the sort; he was sedulous to clench his teeth against their +chattering, even to hold his breath, and regretted that he might not mute +the thumping of his heart. Nor dared he stir until, the lights fading out, +the patrol rose and skulked onward. + +Thereafter his movements were less stealthy; with a detachment of their +own abroad in No Man's Land, the British would refrain from shooting at +shadows. One had now to fear only German bullets in event the patrol were +discovered. + +Rising, the man slipped and stumbled on in semi-crouching posture, ready +to flatten to earth as soon as any one of his many overshoulder glances +detected another sky-spearing flight of sparks. But this necessity he was +spared; no more lights were discharged before he groped through the wires +to the parapet, with almost uncanny good luck, finding the very spot where +the British had come over the top, indicated by protruding uprights of a +rough wooden scaling ladder. + +As he turned, felt with a foot for the uppermost rung, and began to +descend, he was saluted by a voice hoarse with exposure, from the black +bowels of the trench: + +"Blimy! but ye're back in a 'urry! Wot's up? Forget to put perfume on yer +pocket-'andkerchief--or wot?" + +The man's response, if he made any, was lost in a heavy splash as his feet +slipped on the slimy rungs, delivering him precipitately into a knee-deep +stream of foul water which moved sluggishly through the trench like the +current of a half-choked sewer--a circumstance which neither suprised him +nor added to his physical discomfort, who could be no more wet or defiled +than he had been. + +Floundering to a foothold, he cast about vainly for a clue to the other's +whereabouts; for if the night was thick in the open, here in the trench +its density was as that of the pit; the man could distinguish positively +nothing more than a pallid rift where the walls opened overhead. + +"Well, sullen, w'ere's yer manners? Carn't yer answer a civil question?" + +Turning toward the speaker, the man replied in good if rather carefully +enunciated English: + +"I am not of your comrades. I am come from the enemy trenches." + +"The 'ell yer are! 'Ands up!" + +The muzzle of a rifle prodded the man's stomach. Obediently he lifted both +hands above his head. A thought later, he was half blinded by the sudden +spot-light of an electric flash-lamp. + +"Deserter, eh? You kamerad--wot?" + +"Kamerad!" the man echoed with an accent of contempt. "I am no German--I +am French. I have come through the Boche lines to-night with important +information which I desire to communicate forthwith to your commanding +officer." + +"Strike me!" his catechist breathed, skeptical. + +There was a new sound of splashing in the trench. A third voice chimed in: +"'Ello? Wot's all the row abaht?" + +"Step up and tike a look for yerself. 'Ere's a blighter wot sez 'e's com +from the Germ trenches with important information for the O.C." + +"Bloody liar," the newcomer commented dispassionately. "Mind yer eye. +Likely it's just another pl'yful little trick of the giddy Boche. 'Ere +you!" The splashing drew nearer. "Wot's yer gime? Speak up if yer don't +want a bullet through yer in'ards." + +"I play no game," the man said patiently. "I am unarmed--your prisoner, if +you like." + +"I like, all right. Mike yer mind easy abaht that. But wot's all this +'important information'?" + +"I shall divulge that only to the proper authorities. Be good enough to +conduct me to your commanding officer without more delay." + +"Wot do yer mike of 'im, corp'ril?" the first soldier enquired. "'Ow abaht +an inch or two o' the bay'net to loosen 'is tongue?" + +After a moment's hesitation in perplexed silence, the corporal took the +flash-lamp from the private and with its beam raked the prisoner from head +to foot, gaining little enlightenment from this review of a tall, spare +figure clothed in the familiar gray overcoat of the German private--its +face a mere mask of mud through which shone eyes of singular brilliance and +steadiness, the eyes of a man of intelligence, determination, and courage. + +"Keep yer 'ands 'igh," the corporal advised curtly. "Ginger, you search +'im." + +Propping his rifle against the wall of the trench, its butt on the +firing-step just out of water, the private proceeded painstakingly +to examine the person of the prisoner; in course of which process he +unbuttoned and threw open the gray overcoat, exposing a shapeless tunic and +trousers of shoddy drab stuff. + +"'E 'asn't got no arms--'e 'asn't got nothink, not so much as 'is blinkin' +latch-key." + +"Very good. Get back on yer post. I'll tike charge o' this one." + +Grounding his own rifle, the corporal fixed its bayonet, then employed it +in a gesture of unpleasant significance. + +"'Bout fice," he ordered. "March. Yer can drop yer 'ands--but don't go +forgettin' I'm right 'ere be'ind yer." + +In silence the prisoner obeyed, wading down the flooded trench, the +spot-light playing on his back, striking sullen gleams from the inky water +that swirled about his knees, and disclosing glimpses of coated figures +stationed at regular intervals along the firing-step, faces steadfast to +loopholes in the parapet. + +Now and again they passed narrow rifts in the walls of the trench, +entrances to dugouts betrayed by glimmers of candle-light through the +cracks of makeshift doors or the coarse mesh of gunnysack curtains. + +From one of these, at the corporal's summons, a sleepy subaltern stumbled +to attend ungraciously to his subordinate's report, and promptly ordered +the prisoner taken on to the regimental headquarters behind the lines. + +A little farther on captive and captor turned off into a narrow and +tortuous communication trench. Thereafter for upward of ten minutes they +threaded a labyrinth of deep, constricted, reeking ditches, with so little +to differentiate one from another that the prisoner wondered at the sure +sense of direction which enabled the corporal to find his way without +mis-step, with the added handicap of the abysmal darkness. Then, of a +sudden, the sides of the trench shelved sharply downward, and the two +debouched into a broad, open field. Here many men lay sleeping, with only +waterproof sheets for protection from that bitter deluge which whipped the +earth into an ankle-deep lake of slimy ooze and lent keener accent to the +abiding stench of filth and decomposing flesh. A slight hillock stood +between this field and the firing-line--where now lively fusillades +were being exchanged--its profile crowned with a spectral rank of +shell-shattered poplars sharply silhouetted against a sky in which +star-shells and Verey lights flowered like blooms of hell. + +Here the corporal abruptly commanded his prisoner to halt and himself +paused and stood stiffly at attention, saluting a group of three officers +who were approaching with the evident intention of entering the trench. One +of these loosed upon the pair the flash of a pocket lamp. At sight of the +gray overcoat all three stopped short. + +A voice with the intonation of habitual command enquired: "What have we +here?" + +The corporal replied: "A prisoner, sir--sez 'e's French--come across the +open to-night with important information--so 'e sez." + +The spot-light picked out the prisoner's face. The officer addressed him +directly. + +"What is your name, my man?" + +"That," said the prisoner, "is something which--like my intelligence--I +should prefer to communicate privately." + +With a startled gesture the officer took a step forward and peered intently +into that mud-smeared countenance. + +"I seem to know your voice," he said in a speculative tone. + +"You should," the prisoner returned. + +"Gentlemen," said the officer to his companions, "you may continue your +rounds. Corporal, follow me with your prisoner." + +He swung round and slopped off heavily through the mud of the open field. + +Behind them the sound of firing in the forward trenches swelled to an +uproar augmented by the shrewish chattering of machine-guns. Then a battery +hidden somewhere in the blackness in front of them came into action, +barking viciously. Shells whined hungrily overhead. The prisoner glanced +back: the maimed poplars stood out stark against a sky washed with wave +after wave of infernal light.... + +Some time later he was conscious of a cobbled way beneath his sodden +footgear. They were entering the outskirts of a ruined village. On either +hand fragments of walls reared up with sashless windows and gaping doors +like death masks of mad folk stricken in paroxysm. + +Within one doorway a dim light burned; through it the officer made his way, +prisoner and corporal at his heels, passing a sentry, then descending a +flight of crazy wooden steps to a dank and gloomy cellar, stone-walled +and vaulted. In the middle of the cellar stood a broad table at which an +orderly sat writing by the light of two candles stuck in the necks of empty +bottles. At another table, in a corner, a sergeant and an operator of the +Signal Corps were busy with field telephone and telegraph instruments. On a +meagre bed of damp and mouldy straw, against the farther wall, several men, +orderlies and subalterns, rested in stertorous slumbers. Despite the cold +the atmosphere was a reek of tobacco smoke, sweat, and steam from wet +clothing. + +The man at the centre table rose and saluted, offering the commanding +officer a sheaf of scribbled messages and reports. Taking the chair thus +vacated, the officer ran an eye over the papers, issued several orders +inspired by them, then turned attention to the prisoner. + +"You may return to your post, corporal." + +The corporal executed a smart about-face and clumped up the steps. In +answer to the officer's steadfast gaze the prisoner stepped forward and +confronted him across the table. + +"Who are you?" + +"My name," said the prisoner, after looking around to make sure that none +of the other tenants of the cellar was within earshot, "is Lanyard--Michael +Lanyard." + +"The Lone Wolf!" + +Involuntarily the officer jumped up, almost overturning his chair. + +"That same," the prisoner affirmed, adding with a grimace of besmirched and +emaciated features that was meant for a smile--"General Wertheimer." + +"Wertheimer is not my name." + +"I am aware of that. I uttered it merely to confirm my identity to you; it +is the only name I ever knew you by in the old days, when you were in the +British Secret Service and I a famous thief with a price upon my head, when +you and I played hide and seek across half Europe and back again--in the +days of Troyon's and 'the Pack,' the days of De Morbihan and Popinot +and...." + +"Ekstrom," the officer supplied as the prisoner hesitated oddly. + +"And Ekstrom," the other agreed. + +There was a little silence between the two; then the officer mused aloud: +"All dead!" + +"All ... but one." + +The officer looked up sharply. "Which--?" + +"The last-named." + +"Ekstrom? But we saw him die! You yourself fired the shot that--" + +"It was not Ekstrom. Trust that one not to imperil his precious carcase +when he could find an underling to run the risk for him! I tell you I have +seen Ekstrom within this last month, alive and serving the Fatherland as +the genius of that system of espionage which keeps the enemy advised of +your every move, down to the least considerable--that system which makes it +possible for the Boche to greet every regiment by name when it moves up to +serve its time in your advanced trenches." + +"You amaze me!" + +"I shall convince you; I bring intelligence which will enable you to tear +apart this web of treason within your own lines and...." + +Lanyard's voice broke. The officer remarked that he was +trembling--trembling so violently that to support himself he must grip the +edge of the table with both hands. + +"You are wounded?" + +"No--but cold to my very marrow, and faint with hunger. Even the German +soldiers are on starvation rations, now; the civilians are worse off; and +I--I have been over there for years, a spy, a hunted thing, subsisting as +casually as a sparrow!" + +"Sit down. Orderly!" + +And there was no more talk between these two for a time. Not only did the +officer refuse to hear another word before Lanyard had gorged his fill of +food and drink, but an exigent communication from the front, transmitted +through the trench telephone system, diverted his attention temporarily. + +Gnawing ravenously at bread and meat, Lanyard watched curiously the scenes +in the cellar, following, as best he might, the tides of combat; gathering +that German resentment of a British bombing enterprise (doubtless the work +of that same squad which had stolen past him in the gloom of No Man's Land) +had developed into a violent attempt to storm the forward trenches. +In these a desperate struggle was taking place. Reinforcements were +imperatively wanted. + +Activities at the signallers' table became feverish; the commanding officer +stood over it, reading incoming messages as they were jotted down and +taking such action thereupon as his judgment dictated. Orderlies, dragged +half asleep from their nests of straw, were shaken awake and despatched to +rouse and rush to the front the troops Lanyard had seen sleeping in the +open field. Other orderlies limped or reeled down the cellar steps, +delivered their despatches, and, staggered out through a breach in the wall +to have their injuries attended to in the field dressing-station in the +adjoining cellar, or else threw themselves down on the straw to fall +instantly asleep despite the deafening din. + +The Boche artillery, seeking blindly to silence the field batteries whose +fire was galling their offensive, had begun to bombard the village. Shells +fled shrieking overhead, to break in thunderous bellows. Walls toppled +with appalling crashes, now near at hand, now far. The ebb and flow of +rifle-fire at the front contributed a background of sound not unlike the +roaring of an angry surf. Machine-guns gibbered like maniacs. Heavier +artillery was brought into play behind the British lines, apparently at no +great distance from the village; the very flag-stones of the cellar floor +quaked to the concussions of big-calibre guns. + +Through the breach in the wall echoed the screams and groans of wounded. +The foul air became saturated with a sickening stench of iodoform. Gusts of +wet wind eddied hither and yon. Candles flickered and flared, guttered out, +were renewed. Monstrous shadows stole out from black corners, crept along +mouldy walls, crouched, sprang and vanished, or, inscrutably baffled, +retreated sullenly to their lairs.... + +For the better part of an hour the struggle continued; then its vigour +began to wane. The heaviest British metal went out of action; some time +later the field batteries discontinued their activities. The volume of +firing in the advance trenches dwindled, was fiercely renewed some half a +dozen times, died away to normal. Once more the Boche had been beaten back. + +Returning to his chair, the commanding officer rested his elbows upon the +table and bowed his head between his hands in an attitude of profound +fatigue. He seemed to remind himself of Lanyard's presence only at 'cost of +a racking effort, lifting heavy-lidded eyes to stare almost incredulously +at his face. + +"I presumed you were in America," he said in dulled accents. + +"I was ... for a time." + +"You came back to serve France?" + +Lanyard shook his head. "I returned to Europe after a year, the spring +before the war." + +"Why?" + +"I was hunted out of New York. The Boche would not let me be." + +The officer looked startled. "The Boche?" + +"More precisely, Herr Ekstrom--to name him as we knew him. But this I did +not suspect for a long time, that it was he who was responsible for my +persecution. I knew only that the police of America, informed of my +identity with the Lone Wolf, sought to deport me, that every avenue to +an honourable livelihood was closed. So I had to leave, to try to lose +myself." + +"Your wife ... I mean to say, you married, didn't you?" + +Lanyard nodded. "Lucy stuck by me till ... the end.... She had a little +money of her own. It financed our flight from the States. We made a +round-about journey of it, to elude surveillance--and, I think, succeeded." + +"You returned to Paris?" + +"No: France, like England, was barred to the Lone Wolf.... We settled down +in Belgium, Lucy and I and our boy. He was three months old. We found a +quiet little home in Louvain--" + +The officer interrupted with a low cry of apprehension, Lanyard checked him +with a sombre gesture. "Let me tell you.... + +"We might have been happy. None knew us. We were sufficient unto ourselves. +But I was without occupation; it occurred to me that my memoirs might +make good reading--for Paris; my friends the French are as fond of their +criminals as you English of your actors. On the second of August I +journeyed to Paris to negotiate with a publisher. While I was away the +Boche invaded Belgium. Before I could get back Louvain had been occupied, +sacked...." + +He sat for a time in brooding silence; the officer made no attempt to +rouse him, but the gaze he bent upon the man's lowered head was grave and +pitiful. Abruptly, in a level and toneless voice, Lanyard resumed: + +"In order to regain my home I had to go round by way of England and +Holland. I crossed the Dutch frontier disguised as a Belgian peasant. When +I reentered Louvain it was to find ... But all the world knows what the +blond beast did in Louvain. My wife and little son had vanished utterly. I +searched three months before I found trace of either. Then ... Lucy died in +my arms in a wretched hovel near Aerschot. She had seen our child butchered +before her eyes. She herself...." + +Lanyard's hand, that rested on the table, clenched and whitened beneath its +begrimed skin. His eyes fathomed distances immeasurably removed beyond the +confines of that grim cellar. But he presently continued: + +"Ekstrom had accompanied the army of invasion, had seen and recognized Lucy +in passing through Louvain. Therefore she and my son were among the first +to be sacrificed.... When I stood over her grave I dedicated my life to the +extermination of Ekstrom and all his breed. I have since done things I do +not like to think about. But the Prussian spy system is the weaker for my +work.... + +"But Ekstrom I could never find. It was as if he knew I hunted him. He was +seldom twenty-four hours ahead of me, yet I never caught up with him but +once; and then he was too closely guarded.... I pursued him to Berlin, +to Potsdam, three times to the western front, to Serbia, once to +Constantinople, twice to Petrograd." + +The officer uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Lanyard looked his way +with a depreciatory air. + +"Nothing strange about that. To one of my early training that was +easy--everything was easy but the end I sought.... En passant I collected +information concerning the workings of the Prussian spy system. From time +to time I found means to communicate somewhat of this to the Surete in +Paris. I believe France and England have already profited a little through +my efforts. They shall profit more, and quickly, when I have told all that +I have to tell.... + +"Of a sudden Ekstrom vanished. Overnight he disappeared from Germany. A +false lead brought me back to this front. Two days ago I learned he had +been sent to America on a secret mission. Knowing that the States have +severed diplomatic relations with Berlin and tremble on the verge of a +declaration of war, we can surmise something of the nature of his mission. +I mean to see that he fails.... To follow him to America, making my way +out through Belgium and Holland, pursuing such furtive ways as I must in +territory dominated by the Boche, meant much time lost. So I came through +the lines to-night. Fortune was kind in throwing me into your hands: I +count upon your assistance. As an ex-agent of the Secret Service you are in +a position to make smooth my path; as an Englishman, you will advance the +interests of a prospective ally of England if you help me to the limit of +your ability; for what I mean to do in America will serve that country, by +exposing the conspiracies of the Boche across the water, as much as it will +serve my private ends." + +The officer's hand fell across the table and closed upon the knotted fist +of the Lone Wolf. + +"As an Englishman," he said simply--"of course. But no less as your +friend." + + + + +II + +FROM A BRITISH PORT + + +"And one man in his time plays many parts": few more than this same +Lanyard. In no way to be identified with the hunted creature who crept into +the British lines out of No Man's Land was the Monsieur Duchemin who, ten +days after that wintry midnight, took passage for New York from "a British +port," aboard the steamship _Assyrian_. + +Andre Duchemin was the name inscribed in the credentials furnished him in +recognition of signal assistance rendered the British Secret Service in its +task of scotching the Prussian spy system. And the personality he chose +to assume suited well the name. A man of modest and amiable deportment, +viewing the world with eyes intelligent and curious, his temper reacting +from its ways in terms of grave humour, Monsieur Duchemin passed peaceably +on his lawful occasions, took life as he found it, made the best of irksome +circumstances. + +This last idiosyncrasy stood him in good stead. For the _Assyrian_ failed +to clear upon her proposed sailing date and for a livelong week thereafter +chafed alongside her landing stage, steam up, cargo laden and stowed, +nothing lacking but the Admiralty's permission to begin her westbound +voyage--a permission inscrutably withheld, giving rise to a common +discontent which the passengers dissembled to the various best of their +abilities, that is to say, in most cases thinly or not at all. + +Yet they were none of them unreasonable beings. They had come aboard one +and all keyed up to a high nervous pitch, pardonable in such as must commit +their lives to the dread adventure of the barred zone, wanting nothing +so much as to get it over with, whatever its upshot. And everlasting +procrastination required them day after day to steel their hearts anew +against that Terror which followed its furtive ways beneath the leaden +waters of the Channel! + +Alone among them this Monsieur Duchemin paraded successfully a false face +of resignation, protesting no predilection whatsoever for a watery grave, +no infatuate haste to challenge the Hun upon his chosen hunting-ground. In +the fullness of time it would be permitted to him to go down to the sea in +this ship. Meanwhile he found it apparently pleasant and restful to explore +the winding cobbled ways of that antiquated waterside community, made over +by the hand of War into a bustling seaport, or to tramp the sunken lanes +that seamed those green old Cornish hills which embosomed the wide harbour +waters, or to lounge about the broad white decks of the _Assyrian_ watching +the diurnal traffic of the haven--a restless, warlike pageant. + +Daily, in earliest dusk of dawn, the wakeful might watch the faring forth +of a weirdly assorted fleet of small craft, the day patrol, to relieve a +night patrol as weirdly heterogeneous. Daily, at all hours, mine-sweepers +came and went, by twos and twos, in flocks, in schools; and daily bellowing +offshore detonations advertised their success in garnering those horned +black seeds of death which the Hun and his kin were sedulous to sow in the +fairways. While daily battleships both great and small rolled in wearily to +refit and dress their wounds, or took swift departure on grim and secret +errands. + +There was, moreover, the not-infrequent spectacle of some minor ship of +war--a truculent, gray destroyer as like as not--shepherding in a sleek +submarine, like a felon whale armoured and strangely caparisoned in +gray-brown steel, to be moored in chains with a considerable company of its +fellows on the far side of the roadstead, while its crew was taken ashore +and consigned to some dark limbo of oblivion. + +And once, with a light cruiser snapping at her heels, a drab Norwegian +tramp plodded sullenly into port, a mine-layer caught red-handed, plying +its assassin's trade beneath a neutral flag. + +Not long after its crew had been landed, volleys of musketry crashed in the +town gaol-yard. + +One of a group of three idling on the promenade deck of the _Assyrian_, +Lanyard turned sharply and stared through narrowed eyelids into the quarter +whence the sounds reverberated. + +The man at his side, a loose-jointed American of the commercial caste, +paused momentarily in his task of masticating a fat dark cigar. + +"This way out," he commented thoughtfully. + +Lanyard nodded; but the third, a plumply ingratiative native of Geneva, +known to the ship as Emil Dressier, frowned in puzzlement. + +"Pardon, Monsieur Crane, but what is that you say--'this way out'?" + +"Simply," Crane explained, "I take the firing to mean the execution of our +nootral friends from Norway." + +The Swiss shuddered. "It is most terrible!" + +"Well, I don't know about that. They done their damnedest to fix it for us +to drown somewhere out there in the nice, cold English Channel. I'm just as +satisfied it's them, instead, with their backs to a stone wall in the +warm sunlight, getting their needin's. That's only justice. Eh, Monsieur +Duchemin?" + +"It is war," said Lanyard with a shrug. + +"And war is ... No: Sherman was all wrong. Hell's got perfectly good +grounds for a libel suit against William Tecumseh for what he up and said +about it and war, all in the same breath." + +Lanyard smiled faintly, but Dressler pondered this obscure reference with +patent distress. Crane champed his cigar reflectively. + +"What's more to our purpose," he said presently: "I shouldn't be surprised +if this meant the wind-up of our rest-cure here. That's the third +mine-layer they've collected this week--two subs, and now this benevolent +nootral. Am I right, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Who knows?" Lanyard replied with a smile. "Even now the mine-sweeping +flotilla is coming home, as you see; which means, the neighbouring waters +have been cleared. It is altogether a possibility that we may be permitted +to depart this night." + +Even so the event: as that day's sun declined amid a portentous welter of +crimson and purple and gold, the moorings were cast off and the _Assyrian_ +warped out into mid-channel and anchored there for the night. + +Inasmuch as she was to sail as the tide served, some time before sunrise, +the passengers were advised to seek their berths at an early hour. Thirty +minutes before the steamship entered the danger zone (as she would soon +after leaving the harbour) they would be roused and were expected promptly +to assemble on deck, with life-preservers, and station themselves near the +boats to which they were individually assigned. + +For their further comforting they were treated, in the ebb of the chill +blue twilight, to boat-drill and final instructions in the right adjustment +of life-belts. + +A preoccupied company assembled in the dining saloon for what might be +its last meal. In the shadow of the general apprehension, conversation +languished; expressions of relief on the part of those who had been loudest +in complaining at the delays were notably unheard; even Crane, Lanyard's +nearest neighbour at table, was abnormally subdued. Reviewing that array of +sobered and anxious faces, Lanyard remarked--not for the first time, but +with renewed gratitude--that in all the roster of passengers none were +children and but two were women: the American widow of an English officer +and her very English daughter, an angular and superior spinster. + +Avoiding the customary post-prandial symposium in the smoking room, Lanyard +slipped away with his cigar for a lonely turn on deck. + +Beneath a sky heavily canopied, the night was stark black and loud with +clashing waters. A fitful wind played in gusts now grim, now groping, like +a lost thing blundering blindly about in that deep darkness. Ashore a +few wan lights, widely spaced, winked uncertainly, withdrawn in vast +remoteness; those near at hand, of the anchored shipping, skipped and +swayed and flickered in mad mazes of goblin dance. To him who paced those +vacant, darkened decks, the sense of dissociation from all the common, +kindly phenomena of civilization was something intimate and inescapable. +Melancholy as well rode upon that black-winged wind. + +At pause beneath the bridge, the adventurer rested elbows upon the teakwood +rail and with importunate eyes searched the masked face of his destiny. +There was great fear in his heart, not of death, but lest death overtake +him before that scarlet hour when he should encounter the man whom he must +always think of as "Ekstrom." + +After that, nothing would matter: let Death come then as swiftly as it +willed.... + +He was not even middle-aged, on the hither side of thirty; yet his attitude +was that of one who had already crossed the great divide of the average +mortal span: he looked backward upon a life, never forward to one. To him +his history seemed a thing written, lacking the one word Finis: he had +lived and loved and lost--had arrayed himself insolently against God and +Man, had been lifted toward the light a little way by a woman's love, had +been thrust relentlessly back into the black pit of his damnation. He made +no pretense that it was otherwise with him: remained now merely the thing +he had been in the beginning, minus that divine spark which love had once +kindled into consuming aspiration toward the right; the Lone Wolf prowled +again to-day and would henceforth forevermore, the beast of prey callous +to every human emotion, animated by one deadly purpose, existing but to +destroy and be in turn destroyed.... + +Two decks below, about amidships, a cargo port was thrust open to the +night. A thick, broad beam of light leaped out, buffeting the murk, +striking evanescent glimmers from the rocking facets of the waters. +Deckhands busied themselves rigging out an accommodation ladder. A tender +of little tonnage panted nervously up out of nowhere and was made fast +alongside. The light raked its upper deck, picking out in passing a group +of men in uniforms. Fugitively something resembling a petticoat snapped +in the wind. Then several persons moved toward the accommodation ladder, +climbed it, disappeared through the cargo port. The wearer of the petticoat +did not accompany them. + +Lanyard noted these matters subconsciously, for the time altogether +preoccupied, casting forward his thoughts along those dim trails his feet +must tread who followed his dark star.... + +Ten minutes later a deck-steward found him, and paused, touching his cap. + +"Beg pardon, sir, but all passingers is requested to report immedately in +the music room." + +Indifferently Lanyard thanked the man and went below, to find the music +room tenanted by a full muster of his fellow passengers, all more or less +indignantly waiting to be cross-examined by the party of port officials +from the tender--the ship's purser standing by together with the second and +third officers and a number of stewards. + +Resentment was not unwarranted: already, before being suffered to take up +quarters on board the _Assyrian_, each passenger had submitted to a most +comprehensive survey of his credentials, his mental, moral, and social +status, his past record, present affairs, and future purposes. A formality +to be expected by all such as travel in war time, it had been rigid but +mild in contrast with this eleventh-hour inquisition--a proceeding so +drastic and exhaustive that the only plausible inference was official +determination to find excuse for ordering somebody ashore in irons. Nothing +was overlooked: once passports and other proofs of identity had been +scrutinized, each passenger was conducted to his stateroom and his person +and luggage subjected to painstaking search. None escaped; on the other +hand, not one was found guilty of flagitious peculiarity. In the upshot the +inquisitors, baffled and betraying every symptom of disappointment, were +fain to give over and return to their tender. + +By this time Lanyard, one of the last to be grilled and passed, found +himself as little inclined for sleep as the most timorous soul on board. +Selecting an American novel from the ship's library, he repaired to +the smoking room, where, established in a corner apart, he became an +involuntary and, at first, a largely inattentive, eavesdropper upon an +animated debate involving some eight or ten gentlemen at a table in the +middle of the saloon--its subject, the recent visitation. + +Measures so extraordinary were generally held to indicate an incentive more +extraordinary still. + +"You can't get away from it," he heard Crane declare: "there's some sort of +funny business going on, or liable to go on, aboard this ship. She wasn't +held up for a solid week out of pure cussedness. Neither did they come +aboard to-night to give us another once-over through sheer voluptuousness. +There's a reason." + +"And what," a satiric English voice enquired, "do you assume that reason to +be?" + +"Search me. 'Sfar's I'm concerned the processes of the British Intelligence +Office are a long sight past finding out." + +"It is simple enough," one of Crane's compatriots suggested: "the +_Assyrian_ is suspected of entertaining a devil unawares." + +"Monsieur means--?" the Swiss enquired. + +"I mean, the authorities may have been led to believe some one of us a +questionable character." + +"German spy?" + +"Possibly." + +"Or an English traitor?" + +"Impossible," asserted another Briton heavily. "There is to-day no such +thing in England. Two years ago the supposition might have been plausible. +But that breed has long since been stamped out--in England." + +"Another guess," Crane cut in: "they've taken considerable trouble to clear +the track for us. Maybe it occurred to somebody at the last moment to make +sure none of us was likely to pull off an inside job." + +"'Inside job?'" Dressler pleaded. + +"Planting bombs in the coal bunkers--things like that--anything to crab our +getting through the barred zone in spite of mines and U-boats." + +"Any such attempt would mean almost certain death!" + +"What of it? It's been tried before--and got away with. You've got to hand +it to Fritz, he'll risk hell-for-breakfast cheerful any time he gets it in +his bean he's serving Gott und Vaterland." + +"Granted," said the Englishman. "But I fancy such an one would find it far +from easy to secure passage upon this or any other vessel." + +"How so? You may have haltered all your traitors, but there's still +a-plenty German spies living in England. Even you admit that. And if they +can get by your Secret Service, to say nothing of Scotland Yard, what's to +prevent their fixing to leave the country?" + +"Nothing, certainly. But I still contend it is hardly likely." + +"Of course it's hardly likely. Look at these guys to-night--dead set on +making an awful example of anybody that couldn't come clean. I didn't +notice them missing any bets. They combed me to the Queen's taste; for +a while I was sure scared they'd extract my pivot tooth to see if there +wasn't something incriminating and degrading secreted inside it. And nobody +got off any easier. _I_ say the good ship _Assyrian_ has a pretty clean +bill of health to go sailing with." + +"On the other hand"--yet another American voice was speaking--"no spy or +criminal worth his salt would try to ship without preparations thorough +enough to insure success, barring accidents." + +"Criminal?" drawled the Briton incredulously. + +"The enterprisin' burglar keeps a-burglin', even in war time. There have +been notable burglaries in London of late, according to your newspapers." + +"And you think the thief would attempt to smuggle his loot out of the +country aboard such a ship as this?" + +"Why not?" + +"Scotland Yard to the contrary notwithstanding?" + +"If Scotland Yard is as efficient as you think, sir, certainly any sane +thief would make every effort to leave a country it was making too hot for +him." + +"Considerable criminal!" Crane jeered. + +"Undeceive yourself, senor." This was a Brazilian, a quiet little dark body +who commonly contented himself with a listening role in the smoking-room +discussions. "There are truly criminals of intelligence. And war conditions +are driving them out of Europe." + +Of a sudden Lanyard--stretched out at length upon the leather cushions, +in full view of these gossips--became aware that he was being closely +scrutinised. By whom, with what reason or purpose, he could not surmise; +and it were unwise to look up from that printed page. But that sixth sense +of his--intuition, what you will--that exquisitively sensitive sentinel +admonished that at least one person in the room was watching him narrowly. + +Though he made no move other than to turn a page, his glance followed +blindly blurring lines of text, and his quickened wits overlooked no shade +of meaning or intonation as that talk continued. + +"A criminal of intelligence," some one observed, "is a giddy paradox whose +fatuous existence is quite fittingly confined to the realm of fable." + +"You took the identical words right out of my mouth," Crane complained +bitterly. + +"Your pardon, senores: history confutes your incredulity." + +"But we are talking about to-day." + +"Even to-day--can you deny it?--men attain high places by means which the +law would construe as criminal, were they not intelligent enough to outwit +it." + +"Big game," Crane objected; "something else again. What we contend is no +man of ordinary common sense could get his own consent to crack a safe, or +pick a pocket, or do second-story work, or pull any rough stuff like that." + +"Again you overlook living facts," persisted the Brazilian. + +"Name one--just one." + +"The Lone Wolf, then." + +"Unnatural history is out of my line," Crane objected. "Why is a lone wolf, +anyway?" + +The Brazilian's voice took on an accent of exasperation. "Senores, I do not +jest. I am a student of psychology, more especially of criminal psychology. +I lived long in Paris before this war, and took deep interest in the case +of the Lone Wolf." + +"Well, you've got me all excited. Go on with your story." + +"With much pleasure.... This gentleman, then, this Michael Lanyard, as he +called himself, was a distinguished Parisian figure, a man of extraordinary +attainment, esteemed the foremost connoisseur d'art in all Europe. +Suddenly, at the zenith of his career, he disappeared. Subsequently it +became known that he had been identical with that great Parisian criminal, +the Lone Wolf, a superman of thieves who had plundered all Europe with +unvarying success for almost a decade." + +"Then what made the silly ass quit?" + +"According to my information, he won the love of a young woman--" + +"And reformed for her sake, of course?" + +"To the contrary, senor; Lanyard renounced his double life because of a +theory on which he had founded his astonishing success. According to this +theory, any man of intelligence may defy society as long as he will, always +providing he has no friend, lover, or confederate in whom to confide. A man +self-contained can never be betrayed; the stupid police seldom apprehend +even the most stupid criminal, save through the treachery of some intimate. +This Lanyard proved his theory by confounding not only the utmost +efforts of the police but even the jealous enmity of that association of +Continental criminals known as the Bande Noire--until he became a lover. +Then he proved his intelligence: in one stroke he flouted the police, +delivered into their hands the inner circle of the Bande Noire, and +vanished with the woman he loved." + +"And then--?" + +"The rest," said the Brazilian, "is silence." + +"It is for to-night, anyway," Crane observed, yawning. "It's bedtime. Here +comes the busy steward to put the lights and us out." + +There was a general stir; men drained glasses, knocked out pipes, got up, +murmured good-nights. Lanyard closed the American novel upon a forefinger, +looked up abstractedly, rose, moved toward the door. The utmost effort of +exceptional powers of covert observation assured him that, at the moment, +none of the company favoured him with especial attention; the author of +that interest whose intensity had so weighed upon his consciousness had +been swift to dissemble. + +On his way forward he exchanged bows and smiles with Crane and one or two +others, his gesture completely casual. Yet when he entered the starboard +alleyway he carried with him a complete catalogue of those who had +contributed to the conversation. With all, thanks to seven days' +association, he stood on terms of shipboard acquaintance. Not one, in his +esteem, was more potentially mischievous than any other--not even the +Brazilian Velasco, though he had been the first to name the Lone Wolf. + +It was, furthermore, quite possible that the mention of his erstwhile +sobriquet had been utterly fortuitous. + +And yet, one might not forget that sensation of being under intent +surveillance.... + +In his stateroom Lanyard stood for several minutes gravely peering into the +mirror above the washstand. + +The face he scanned was lean and worn in feature, darkly weathered, framed +in hair whose jet already boasted an accent of silver at either temple--the +face of a man inured to hardship, seasoned in suffering, strong in +self-knowledge. The incandescence of an intelligence coldly dispassionate, +quick and shrewd, lighted those dark eyes. Distinctively a face of Gallic +cast, three years of long-drawn torment had served in part to erase from +it wellnigh all resemblance to both the brilliant social freebooter of +ante-bellum Paris and that undesirable alien whom the authorities had +sought to deport from the States. Amazing facility in impersonation had +done the rest; unrecognisable as what he had been, he was to-day flawlessly +the incarnation of what he elected to seem--Monsieur Duchemin, gentleman, +of Paris. + +Impossible to believe his disguise had been so soon penetrated.... + +And yet, again, that gossip of the smoking room.... + +Police work? Or had Ekstrom's creatures picked up his trail once more? + +Beneath that urbane mask of his, a hunted, wild thing poised in question, +mistrustful of the very wind, prick-eared, fangs agleam, eyes grimly +apprehensive.... + +A little sound, the least of metallic clicks, breaking the hush of his +solitude, froze the adventurer to attention. Only his glance swerved +swiftly to a fastened door in the forward partition--his stateroom being +the aftermost of three that might be thrown together to form a suite. The +nickeled knob was being tried with infinite precaution. On the half turn it +checked with a faint repetition of the click. Then the door itself quivered +almost imperceptibly to pressure, though it yielded not a fraction of an +inch. + +Lanyard's eyes hardened. He did not stir from where he stood, but one hand +whipped an automatic from his pocket while the other darted out to the +switch-box by the head of his berth and extinguished the light. + +Instantly a glimmer of light in the forward stateroom showed through +a narrow strip of iron grill-work set in the top of the partition for +ventilating purposes. + +Simultaneously the door-knob was gently released, and with another louder +click the light in the adjoining cubicle was blotted out. + +Mystified, Lanyard undressed and turned in, but not to sleep--not for a +little, at least. + +Who might this neighbour be who tried his door so stealthily? Before +to-night that room had had no tenant. Apparently one of the passengers had +seen fit to shift his quarters. To what end? To keep a jealous eye on +the Lone Wolf, perhaps? So much the better, then: Lanyard need only make +enquiry in the morning to identify his enemy. + +Deliberately closing his eyes, he dismissed the enigma. He possessed in +marked degree that attribute of genius, ability to command slumber at will. +Swiftly the troubled deeps of thought grew calm; on their placid surface +inconsequent visions were mirrored darkly, fugitive scenes from the store +of subconscious memory: Crane's lantern-jawed physiognomy, keen eyes +semi-veiled by humorously drooping lids, the extreme corner of his mouth +bulging round his everlasting cigar ... grimy lions in Trafalgar Square of +a rainy afternoon ... the octagonal room of L'Abbaye Theleme at three in +the morning, a swirl of Bacchanalian shapes ... Wertheimer's soldierly +figure beside the telegraphers' table in that noisome cave at the Front ... +the deck of a tender in darkness swept by a shaft of yellow light which +momentarily revealed a group of folk with upturned faces, a petticoat +fluttering in its midst.... + + + + +III + +IN THE BARRED ZONE + + +Day broke with rather more than half a gale blowing beneath a louring sky. +Once clear of the bottleneck mouth of the harbour, the _Assyrian_ ran into +brutal quartering seas. An old hand at such work, for upward of a decade +a steady-paced Dobbin of the transatlantic lanes, she buckled down to it +doggedly and, remembering her duty by her passengers, rolled no more than +she had to, buried her nose in the foaming green only when she must. For +all her care, the main deck forward was alternately raked by stinging +volleys of spray and scoured by frantic cascades. More than once the crew +of the bow gun narrowly escaped being carried overboard to a man. Blue with +cold, soaked to the buff despite oilskins, they stuck stubbornly to their +posts. Perched beyond reach of shattering wavecrests, the passengers on the +boat-deck huddled unhappily in the lee of the superstructure--and snarled +in response to the cheering information that better conditions for baffling +the ubiquitous U-boat could hardly have been brewed by an indulgent +Providence. Sheeting spindrift contributed to lower visibility: two +destroyers standing on parallel courses about a mile distant to port and +to starboard were more often than not barely discernible, spectral vessels +reeling and dipping in the haze. The ceaseless whistle of wind in the +rigging was punctuated by long-drawn howls which must have filled any +conscientious banshee with corrosive envy. + +Toward mid-morning rain fell in torrents, driving even the most fearful +passengers to shelter within the superstructure. A majority crowded the +landing at the head of the main companionway close by the leeward door. +Bolder spirits marched off to the smoking room--Crane starting this +movement with the declaration that, for his part, he would as lief drown +like a rat in a trap as battling to keep up in the frigid inferno of those +raging seas. A handful of miserables, too seasick to care whether the ship +swam or sank, mutinously took to their berths. + +Stateroom 27--adjoining Lanyard's--sported obstinately a shut door. +Lanyard, sedulous not to discover his interest by questioning the stewards, +caught never a glimpse of its occupant. For his own satisfaction he took a +covert census of passengers on deck as the vessel entered the danger zone, +and made the tally seventy-one all told--the number on the passenger list +when the _Assyrian_ had left her landing stage the previous evening. + +It seemed probable, therefore, that the person in 27 had come aboard from +the tender, either with or following the official party. Lanyard was +unable to say that more had not left the tender than appeared to sit in +inquisition in the music room. + +By noon the wind was beginning to moderate, and the sea was being beaten +down by that relentlessly lashing rain. Visibility, however, was more low +than ever. A fairly representative number descended to the dining saloon +for luncheon--a meal which none finished. Midway in its course a thunderous +explosion to starboard drove all in panic once more to the decks. + +Within two hundred yards of the _Assyrian_ a floating mine had destroyed a +patrol boat. No more was left of it than an oil-filmed welter of splintered +wreckage: of its crew, never a trace. + +Imperturbably the _Assyrian_ proceeded. Not so her passengers: now the +smoking room was deserted even by the insouciant Crane, and the seasick to +a woman brought their troubles back to the boat-deck. + +Alone the tenant of 27 stopped below. And the riddle of this ostensible +indifference to terrors that clawed at the vitals of every other soul on +board grew to intrigue Lanyard to the point of obsession. Was the reason +brute apathy or sheer foolhardihood? He refused either explanation, +feeling sure some darker and more momentous motive dictated this obstinate +avoidance of the public eye. Exasperation aroused by failure to fathom the +mystery took precedence in his thoughts even to the personal solicitude +excited by last night's gossip of the smoking room.... + +With no other disturbing incident the afternoon wore away, the wind +steadily flagging, the waves as steadily subsiding. When twilight closed in +there was nothing more disturbing to one's equilibrium than a sea of long +and sullen rolls scored by the pelting downpour. + +Perhaps as many as ten venturesome souls dined in the saloon, their fellows +sticking desperately to the decks and contenting themselves with coffee and +sandwiches. + +Daylight waned, terrors waxed: passengers instinctively gravitated into +little knots and clusters, conversing guardedly as if fearful lest their +normal accents bring down upon them those Apaches of the underseas for +signs of whom their frightened glances incessantly ranged over-rail and +searched the heaving wastes. + +The understanding was tacit that all would spend the night on deck. + +Dusk at length blotted out the shadows of their guardian destroyers, and a +great and desolating loneliness settled down upon the ship. One by one +the passengers grew dumb; still they clung together, but seemingly their +tongues would no more function. + +With nightfall, the rain ceased, the breeze freshened a trifle, the pall of +cloud lifted and broke, giving glimpses of remote, impersonal stars. Later +a gibbous moon leered through the flying wrack, checkering the sea with +a restless pattern of black and silver. In this ghastly setting the +_Assyrian_, showing no lights, a shape of flying darkness pursuing a course +secret to all save her navigators, strained ever onward, panting, groaning, +quivering from stem to stern ... like an enchanted thing doomed to +perpetual labours, striving vainly to break bonds invisible that transfixed +her to one spot forever-more, in the midst of that bleak purgatory of +shadow and moonshine and dread.... + +Sensitive to the eerie influence of the hour, Lanyard interrupted the tour +of the decks which he had steadily pursued for the better part of the +evening, and rested at the forward rail, looking down over the main deck, +its bleached planking dotted with dark shapes of fixed machinery. In the +bows the formless, uncouth bulk of the gun squatted in its tarpaulin. Its +crew tramped heavily to and fro, shivering in heavy jackets, hands in +pockets, shoulders hunched up to ears. Farther aft an iron door clanged +heavily behind a sailor emerging from an alleyway; he approached the ship's +bell, with practised hand sounded two double strokes, then turned and sang +out in the weird minor traditional in his calling: + +"_Four bells--and a-a-all's well_!" + +Even as the wind made free with the melancholy echoes of that assurance, +the spell upon the ship was exorcised. + +Overhead, from the foremast crow's-nest, a voice screamed, hoarsely urgent: + +"_Torpedo! 'Ware submarine to port_!" + +Many things happened simultaneously, or in a span of seconds strangely +scant. The gunners sprang to station, whipping away the tarpaulin, while +their lieutenant focussed binoculars upon the confused distances of the +night. Obedient to his instructions, the long, gleaming tube of steel +pivoted smoothly to port. + +From the bridge a signal rocket soared, hissing. The whistle loosed +stentorian squalls of indignation and distress--one long and four short. +Commands were shouted; the engine-room telegraph wrangled madly. The +momentum of the _Assyrian_ was checked startlingly; her bows sheered +smartly off to port. + +A rumour of frightened voices and pounding feet came from the leeward +boat-deck, where the main body of the passengers was congregated, hidden +from Lanyard by the shoulder of the foreward deck-house. A number of men +ran forward, paused by the rail, stared, and scurried back, yelling in +alarm. At this the din swelled to uproar. + +Scanning closely the surface of the sea, Lanyard himself descried a silvery +arrow of spray lancing the swells, making with deadly speed toward the port +bow of the _Assyrian_. But now both screws were churning full speed astern; +the vessel lost headway altogether. Then her engines stopped. For a +breathless instant she rested inert, like something paralyzed with fright, +bows-on to the torpedo, the telegraph ringing frantically. Then the +starboard screw began to turn full ahead, the port remaining idle. The +bows swung off still more sharply to port. The torpedo shot in under them, +vanished for a breathless moment, reappeared a boat's-length to starboard, +plunged harmlessly on its unhindered way down the side of the vessel, and +disappeared astern. + +Amidships terrified passengers milled like sheep, hampering the work of the +boat-crews at the davits. Ship's officers raged among them, endeavouring +to restore order. Half a mile or so dead ahead a tiny tongue of flame spat +viciously in the murk. A projectile shrieked overhead, and dropped into the +sea astern. Another followed and fell short. + +The U-boat was shelling the _Assyrian_. + +The forward gun barked violent expostulation, if without visible effect; +the submarine lobbing two more shells at the steamship with an indifference +to its own peril astonishing in one of its craven breed, trained to strike +and run before counterstroke may be delivered. Its extraordinary temerity, +indeed, argued ignorance of the convoying destroyers. + +Coincident with the second shot, however, these unleashed searchlights +slashed the dark through and through with their great, white, fanlike +blades, till first one then the other picked up and steadied relentlessly +upon a toy-boat shape that swam the swells about midway between the +_Assyrian_ and the destroyer off the port bows. + +Simultaneously the quickfirers of the latter went into action, jetting +orange flame. In the searchlights' glare, spurts of white water danced all +round the submarine. A mutter of gunfire rolled over to the _Assyrian_, +abruptly silenced by an imperative deep voice of heavier metal--which spoke +but once. + +With the lurid unreality of clap-trap theatrical illusion the U-boat +vomited a great, spreading sheet of flame.... + +Someone at the rail, near Lanyard's shoulder, uttered a hushed cry of +horror. + +He paid no heed, his interest wholly focussed upon that distant patch of +shining water. As his dazzled vision cleared he saw that the submarine had +disappeared. + +Unconsciously, in French, he commented: "So that is finished!" + +Likewise in French, but in a woman's voice of uncommon quality, deep +and bell-sweet, came the protest from the passenger at his side: "But, +monsieur, what are we doing? We turn away from them--those poor things +drowning there!" + +That was quite true: under forced draught the _Assyrian_ was heading away +on a new course. + +"They drown out there in that black water--and we leave them to that!" + +Lanyard turned. "The destroyers will take care of them," he said--"if any +survived that explosion with strength enough to swim." + +He spoke from the surface of his thoughts and with a calm that veiled +profound surprise. The woman by his side was neither the American widow nor +her English daughter, but wholly a stranger to the ship's company he knew. + +The training of the Lone Wolf had been wasted if one swift glance had +failed to comprehend every essential detail: that tall, straight, slender +figure cloaked in the folds of a garment whose hood framed a face of +singular pallor and sweetness in the moonlight, its shadowed eyes wide with +emotion, its lips a little parted.... + +With a shiver she lifted her hands to her eyes as if to darken the visions +of her imagination. + +"They die out there," she said, in murmurs barely audible.... "We turn our +backs on them.... You think that right?" + +"We play the game by the rules the enemy himself laid down," Lanyard +returned. "They would have sunk us without one qualm of pity--would, in all +probability, have shelled our boats had any succeeded in getting off. They +have done as much before, and will again. It is out of reason to insist +that the captain risk his ship in the hope of picking up one or two +drowning assassins." + +"Risk his ship? How? They are helpless--" + +"As a rule, U-boats hunt in pairs; always, when specially charged to sink +one certain vessel. It was so with the _Lusitania_, with the _Arabic_ as +well; I don't doubt it was so in this instance--that we should have heard +from a second submarine had not the destroyers opened fire when they did." + +The woman stared. "You think that--?" + +"That the Boche had specific instructions to waylay and sink the +_Assyrian_? I begin to think that--yes." + +This declaration affected the woman curiously; she shrank away a little, as +from a blow, her eyes winced, her pale lips quivered. When she spoke, it +was, strangely enough, in English so naturally enunciated that Lanyard +could not doubt that this was her mother tongue. + +"Then you think it is because...." + +Of a sudden she wilted, clinging to the rail and trembling wildly. + +Lanyard shot a glance aft. The disorder among the passengers was measurably +less, though excitement still ran so high that he felt sure they were as +yet unnoticed. On impulse he stepped nearer. + +"Pardon, mademoiselle," he said quietly; "you are excusably unstrung. +But all danger is past; and there is still time to regain your stateroom +unobserved. If you will permit me to escort you...." + +He watched her narrowly, but she showed no surprise at this suggestion of +intimacy with her affairs. After a brief moment she pulled herself together +and dropped a hand upon the arm he offered. In another minute he was +helping her over the raised watersill of the door. + +Like all the ship the landing and main companionway were dark; but below, +on the promenade deck, the second doorway aft on the starboard side stood +ajar, affording a glimpse of a dimly lighted stateroom. + +With neither hesitation nor surprise--for he was already satisfied in this +matter--Lanyard conducted the woman to this door and stopped. + +Her hand fell from his arm. She faltered on the threshold of Stateroom 27, +eyeing him dubiously. + +"Thank you, monsieur...?" + +There was just enough accent of enquiry to warrant his giving her the name: +"Duchemin, mademoiselle." + +"Monsieur Duchemin.... Please to tell me how you knew this was my +stateroom?" + +"I occupy Stateroom 29. There was no one in 27 till after the tender came +out last night. Furthermore, your face was strange, and I have come to know +all others on board during our week's delay in port." + +The light was at her back; he could distinguish little of her shadowed +features, but fancied her a bit discountenanced. + +In a subdued voice she said, "Thank you," once more, a hand resting +significantly on the door-knob. But still he lingered. + +"If mademoiselle would be so good as to tell me something in return--?" + +"If I can...." + +"Then why, mademoiselle, did you try my door last night?" + +"It was neither locked nor bolted on my side. I wished to make sure--" + +"So one fancied. Thank you. Good-night, mademoiselle...?" + +She was impervious to his hint. "Good-night, Monsieur Duchemin," she said, +and closed the door. + +Now Lanyard's quarters opened not on this alleyway fore-and-aft but on a +short and narrow athwartship passage. And as he turned away he saw out of +the corner of an eye a white-jacketed figure emerge from this passageway +and move hurriedly aft. Something furtive in the round of the fellow's +shoulders challenged his curiosity. He called quietly: + +"Steward!" + +There was no answer. By now the white jacket was no more than a blur moving +in that deep gloom. He cried again, more loudly: + +"I say, steward!" + +He could hardly see, but fancied that the man quickened his steps: in +another instant he vanished altogether. + +Smothering an impulse to give chase, the adventurer swung alertly into the +narrow passage and opened the door to Stateroom 29. The room was dark, but +as he fumbled for the switch, the door in the forward partition was thrust +open and the girl's slight figure showed, tensely poised against the light +behind her. + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" she cried, in a voice sharp with doubt. + +Lanyard turned the switch. "Mademoiselle," he said, and coolly crossed to +the port, drawing the light-proof curtains. + +"This door was locked all day--locked when the firing alarmed me and I went +out to the deck." + +"And on my side, mademoiselle, it was locked and bolted when last I was +here, shortly before dinner." "Whoever unfastened it entered my room during +my absence and tampered with my luggage." + +"You have missed something?" + +Gaze intent to his she nodded. He shrugged and cast shrewdly round his +quarters for some clue to the enigma. His glance fastened on a leather +bellows-bag beneath the berth. Dropping to his knees he pulled this out, +and looked up with a quizzical grimace, his forefinger indicating the lock, +which was uncaught. + +"I left this latched but not locked," he said. "Perhaps I, too, have lost +something." + +Opening the bag out flat, he sat back on his heels, with practised eye +inspecting its neat arrangement of intimate things. + +"Nothing has been taken, mademoiselle," he announced gravely. "But +something--I think--has been generously added. I seem to have an anonymous +admirer on board." + +Bending forward, he rummaged beneath a sheaf of shirts and brought forth +a small jewel-box of grained leather, with a monogram stamped on the +lid--"C.B." + +"The lock is broken," he observed, and handed it up to the woman. "As to +its contents, mademoiselle herself knows best...." + +The woman opened the box. + +"Nothing is missing," she said in a thoughtful voice. + +"I am relieved." Lanyard closed the bag, thrust it back beneath the berth, +and got upon his feet. "But you are quite sure--?" + +"My jewels are all in order," she affirmed, without meeting his gaze. + +"And you miss nothing else?" + +"Nothing." + +Was there an accent of hesitation in this response? + +"Then, I take it, the thief was disappointed." + +Now she glanced quickly at his eyes. "Why do you say that?" + +"If the thief had found what he sought, he would never have presented it +to me, mademoiselle would never again have seen her jewels. Failing in +his object, after breaking that lock, and interrupted by your unexpected +return, he planted the case with me, hoping to have me suspected. I am +fortunately able to prove the best of alibis.... So then," said Lanyard, +smiling, "it would appear that, though we met ten minutes ago for the first +time--and I have yet to know mademoiselle by name--we are allies in a +common cause." + +"My name is Brooke--Cecelia Brooke," she said quietly--"if it matters. But +why 'allies'?" + +"It appears we own a common enemy. Each of us possesses something which +that one desires--you a secret, I a good name. (Duchemin, indeed, I have +always held to be an excellent name.) I shall not hesitate to call on you +if my treasure is again violated. May I venture to hope mademoiselle will +prove as ready to command my services?" + +"Thank you. I fancy, however, there will be no need." + +She moved irresolutely toward the communicating door, paused in its frame, +eyeing him speculatively from under level brows. He detected, or imagined, +a tremor of impulse toward him, as though she faltered on the verge of some +grave confidence. If so, she curbed her tongue in time. Her gaze dropped, +fixed itself abstractedly on the door.... "This must be fastened," she +said, in a tone of complete disinterest. + +"I will speak to the chief steward immediately." + +"Don't trouble." She roused. "It doesn't matter, really, for to-night. I +shall leave what valuables I have in the purser's care and stop on deck +till daybreak." + +He gave a gesture of bewilderment. "You abandon your seclusion--leave your +secret unguarded?" + +"Why not?" She shrugged slightly with a little _moue_ of discontent. "If, +as you assume, I had a secret, it was that for certain reasons I did not +wish my presence on board to become known. But it seems it has become +known: my secret is no more. So I need no longer risk being cut off from +the boats in the event of any accident." + +Momentarily her gravity was dissipated by a smile at once delightful and +provocative. + +"Once more, monsieur--good-night!" + +After some moments Lanyard, with a start, found himself staring blankly at +a blankly incommunicative communicating door. + + + + +IV + +IN DEEP WATERS + + +Following this abrupt introduction to his interesting neighbour, Lanyard +went back to his deck-chair and, bundling himself up against the cold, +settled down to ponder the affair and await developments in a spirit of +chastened resignation. That a denouement would duly unfold he was quite +satisfied; that he himself must willy-nilly play some part therein he was +too well persuaded. + +Not that he wished to meddle. If this Miss Cecelia Brooke (as she named +herself) fostered any sort of intrigue, he wanted nothing so fervently +as to be left altogether out of it. But already he had been dragged in, +without wish or consent of his; whoever coveted her secret--whatever that +was, more precious to her than jewels--harboured designs upon his own as +well. It was his duty henceforth to go warily, overlooking no circumstance, +however trifling and inconsiderable it might appear. The slenderest thread +may lead to the heart of the most intricate maze--and the heart of this was +become Lanyard's immediate goal, for there his enemy lay perdu. + +It was never this man's fault to underrate an enemy, least of all +an unknown; and he entertained wholesome respect for Secret Service +operators--picked men, as a rule, the meanest no mean antagonist. And this +business, he fancied, had all the flavour of Secret Service work--one +of those blind duels, desperate and grim affairs of masked combatants +feinting, thrusting, guarding in the dark, each with the other's sword ever +feeling for his throat, fighting for life itself and making his own rules +as the contest swayed. + +But what was this Brooke girl doing in that galley? What conceivable motive +induced her to dabble those slender hands in the muck and blood of Secret +Service work? + +Lanyard was fain to let that question rest. After all, it was no concern of +his. There she was, up to her pretty eyebrows in some dark, bad business; +and it was not for him to play the gratuitous ass, rush in unasked, and +seek to extricate her.... + +Through endless hours he sat brooding, vision blindly focussed upon the +misty, shimmering mystery of that night. + +Ekstrom!... Slowly in his understanding intuition shaped the conviction +that it was Ekstrom whom he was fighting now, Ekstrom in the guise of one +of his creatures, some agent of the Prussian spy system who had contrived +to smuggle himself aboard this British steamship. + +Out of those nine in the smoking room the previous night, then, he must +beware of one primarily, perhaps of more. + +Four he was disposed, with reservations, to reckon negligible: Baron von +Harden, head of a Netherlands banking house, a silent body whose acute +mental processes went on behind a pallid screen of flabby features; Julius +Becker, a theatrical manager of New York, whose right name ended in ski; +Bartlett Putnam, late charge d'affaires of the American embassy in Madrid; +Edmund O'Reilly, naturalized citizen of the United States, interested in +the manufacture of motor tractors somewhere in Michigan. + +Of the other five, two were English: Lieutenant Thackeray, a civilly +reticent gentleman whose right arm rested in a black silk sling, making +a flying trip to visit a married sister in New York; Archer Bartholomew, +Esq., solicitor, a red-cheeked, bright-eyed, white-haired, brisk little +Cockney, beyond the military age. + +There remained Dressier, the stout, self-satisfied Swiss, whose fawning +manner was possibly accounted for by his statement that he journeyed to +New York to engage in the trade of restaurateur in partnership with his +brother; Crane, long and awkward and homely, of saturnine cast, slow of +gesture and negligent as to dress, his humorous sense clouding a power +of shrewd intelligence; and Senor Arturo Velasco, of Buenos Aires, +middle-aged, apparently extremely well-to-do, a thoughtful type, more +self-contained than most of his countrymen. + +One of these probably ... But which?... + +Nor must he permit himself to forget that the _Assyrian_ carried fifty-nine +other male passengers, in addition to her complement of officers, crew, and +stewards, that any one of these might prove to be Potsdam's cat's-paw. + +Awesome pallor tinged the eastern horizon, gaining strength, spread in +imperceptible yet rapid gradations toward the zenith. Stars faded, winked +out, vanished. Silver and purple in the sea gave place to livid gray. +Almost visibly the routed night rolled back over the western rim of the +world. Shafts of supernal radiance lanced the formless void between sky +and sea. Swollen and angry, the sun lifted up its enormous, ensanguined +portent. And the discountenanced moon withdrew hastily into the +immeasurable fastnessness of a cloudless firmament, yet failed therein to +find complete concealment. Keen, sweet airs of dawn raked the decks, now +to port, now to starboard, as the _Assyrian_ twisted and writhed on her +corkscrew way. + +Passengers whose fears had become sufficiently numb to permit them to +drowse, stirred in their chairs, roused blinking and blear-eyed, arose +and stretched cramped, cold bodies. Others lay listless, enervated by the +sleepless misery of that night. Crane found Lanyard awake and marched him +off for coffee and cigarettes in the smoking room. + +Later, starting out for a turn around the decks, they passed a deck-chair +sheltered in a jog where the engine-room ventilating shaft joined the +forward deck-house, in which Miss Brooke lay cocooned in wraps and furs, +her profile, turned aside from the sea, exquisitely etched against the rich +blackness of a fox stole. She slept as quietly as the most carefree, a +shadowy smile touching her lips. + +Crane's stride faltered. He whistled low. + +"In the name of all things wonderful! how did that get on board?" + +Lanyard mentioned the girl's name. "She has the stateroom next to +mine--came off that tender, night before last." + +"And me sore on that darn' li'l boat because it brought aboard all the +nosey Johnnies! Ain't it the truth, you never know your luck?" + +The American ruminated in silence till another lap of their walk took them +past the girl again. + +"Funny," he mused, "if that's why they held us up...." + +"Comment, monsieur?" + +"Oh, I was just wondering if it was on that young lady's account they kept +us kicking our heels back there so long." + +"I am still stupid," Lanyard confessed. + +"Why, she might be a special messenger, you know--something like that--the +British Government wanted to smuggle out of the country without anybody +suspecting." + +"Monsieur is a romantic." + +"You can't trust me," Crane averred unblushingly. + +When they passed the chair again it was empty. + +At breakfast Lanyard saw the girl from a distance: their places were +separated by the width of the saloon. She had no neighbours at her table, +did not look up when Lanyard entered, finished her meal some time before +he did, and retired immediately to her stateroom, in whose seclusion she +remained for the rest of the day. + +That second day was altogether innocent of untoward incident. At least +superficially the life of the ship settled into the groove of "business +as usual." Only the company of the _Assyrian's_ faithful convoys was an +ever-present reminder of peril. + +And in the middle of the afternoon she passed close by a derelict, a +torpedoed tramp, deep down by the stern, her bows helplessly high in air +and crimson with rust, the melancholy haunt of a great multitude of gulls. + +More than slightly to Lanyard's surprise he received no quiet invitation +to the captain's quarters to be interrogated concerning the burglary in +Stateroom 27. Apparently, the young woman had contented herself with +reporting merely that the communicating door had carelessly been left +unfastened. + +For his own part, neither seeking nor avoiding individual members of the +smoking-room group, Lanyard permitted himself to be drawn into their +company, and sat among them amiably receptive. But this profited him +scantily; there was no further talk of the Lone Wolf; he was not again +aware of that covert surveillance. + +But when--the evening chill driving him below to don a fur-lined +topcoat--the Brooke girl, coming up the companionway, acknowledged his look +of recognition with the most distant of nods, he accepted the apparent +rebuff without resentment. He understood. She was playing the game. The +enemy was watching, listening. After that he was studious to refrain from +seeming either to avoid or to seek her neighbourhood; and if he did keep a +sharp eye on her, it was so circumspectly as to mock detection. To the +best of his observation she found no friends on board, contracted no new +acquaintances, kept herself to herself within walls of inexorable reserve. + +Dawn, ending the second night at sea, found the _Assyrian_ pursuing a +course still devious, and now alone; the destroyers had turned back during +the night. The western boundary of the barred zone lay astern. Ahead, at +the end of a brief interval of time, the ivory towers of New York loomed, +a-shimmer with endless sunlight, glorious in golden promise. Accordingly, +the spirits of the passengers were exalted. The very ship seemed to grin in +self-complacence; she had won safely through. + +Unremitting vigilance was none the less maintained. No hour of the +twenty-four found either gun, forward or aft, wanting a full working crew +on the keen qui vive. The life boats remained on outswung davits; boat +drills for passengers as well as crew were features of the daily programme. +Regulations concerning light and smoking on deck after dark were rigidly +enforced. Fuel was never spared in the effort to widen the blue gulf +between the steamship and those waters wherein she had so nearly met her +end. By day a hunted thing, racing frantically toward a port of refuge in +the West, all her stout fabric labouring with titanic pulsations, shying in +panic from the faintest suspicion of smoke upon the horizon, the _Assyrian_ +slipped into the grateful obscurity of night like a snake into a thicket, +made herself akin to its densest shadows, strained hopelessly not to be +outdistanced by its fugitive mantle. + +And the benison of unseasonably clement weather was hers; day after shining +day, night after placid night, the Atlantic revealed a singularly gracious +humour, mirrored the changeful panorama of the heavens in a surface little +flawed. So that the most squeamish voyagers, as well as those most beset +with fears, slept sweetly in the comfort of their berths. + +Lanyard, however, never went to bed without first securing his door so that +it might be opened by force alone; and never slept without a pistol beneath +his pillow. + +But the truth is, he slept little. For the first time in his history he +learned what it meant to will sleep to come and have his will defied. He +lay for hours staring wide-eyed into darkness, hearkening to the steady +throbbing of the engines, unable to dismiss the thought that their every +revolution brought him so much nearer to America, so much the nearer to +his hour with Ekstrom. In vain he sought to fatigue his senses by +over-indulgence in his weakness for gambling. Day-long sessions at poker +and auction in the smoking room--where he found formidable antagonists, +principally in the persons of Crane, Bartlett Putnam, Velasco, Bartholomew, +Julius Becker and Baron von Harden--served only to forward his financial +fortunes; his luck was phenomenal; he multiplied many times that slender +store of English banknotes with which he had embarked upon this adventure. +But he left each exhausting sitting only to toss upon a wakeful pillow or +to roam uneasily the dark and desolate decks, a man haunted by ghosts of +his own raising, hagridden by passions of his own nurturing.... + +About two o'clock on the third night (the first outside the danger zone, +when every other passenger might reasonably be expected to be in his berth) +Lanyard lay in a deck-chair deep in shadows, wondering if it was worthwhile +to go below and woo sleep in his stateroom. By way of experiment he shut +his eyes. When after a moment he opened them again he was no longer alone. + +Some distance away, at the rail, the woman of Stateroom 27 was standing +with her back to Lanyard, looking intently forward, unquestionably ignorant +of his presence. + +Without moving, he watched in listless incuriosity till he saw her +straighten and stand away from the rail as if bracing herself against some +crisis. + +A man was coming aft from the entrance to the main companionway, impatience +in his stride--a tall man, of good carriage, muffled almost to the heels in +a heavy ulster, a steamer-cap well forward over his eyes. But the light was +poor, the pale shine of the aged moon blending trickily with the swaying +shadows; Lanyard was unable to place him among the passengers. There was +a suggestion of Lieutenant Thackeray--but that one was handicapped by one +shell-shattered arm, whereas this man had the use of both. + +He demonstrated that promptly, taking the girl into them. She yielded +herself gladly, with a hushed little cry, hiding her face in the bosom of +his ulster, clinging to him. + +This, then, was an assignation prearranged! Miss Cecelia Brooke had a lover +aboard the _Assyrian_, a lover whom she denied by day but met in stealth by +night! + +And yet, after that first, swift embrace, their conduct became oddly +unloverlike. The man released her of his own initiative, held her by the +shoulders at arm's length. There was irritation in his manner. He seemed +tempted to shake the young woman. + +"Celia! what madness!" + +So much, at least, Lanyard overheard; the rest was a mumble into the hand +which the girl placed over the man's lips. She cried breathlessly: "Hush! +not so loud!" + +And then she remembered to guard her own voice. In an undertone she spoke +passionately for a moment. The man interrupted in a tone of profound +vexation. She drew away, as if hurt, caught him up as he hesitated for a +word, returned, clung to the lapels of his coat, her accents rapid and +pitiful, eloquent of explanation, entreaty, determination. The man lifted +his hands to her wrists, broke her grasp, cut her brusquely short, put her +forcibly from him. She sobbed softly.... + +Thus swiftly the scene suffered disillusioning transition. The pretty +fiction of lovers meeting in secret was no more. Remained a man annoyed to +the verge of anger, a woman desperately importunate. + +The wind, sweeping aft, carried broken snatches of their communications: + +"... _all I have ... could not let you go_...." + +"_Insanity_!" + +"_I was desperate_...." + +"... _drive me mad with your nonsense_...." + +Lanyard sat up, scraping his chair harshly on the deck. Stricken mute, +the pair at the rail moved only to turn his way the pallid ovals of their +faces. + +Heedless of the prohibition, he struck a vesta, cupped its flame in his +hands, bending his face close and deliberately lighting a cigarette. +Appreciably longer than necessary he permitted the flare to reveal his +features. Then he blew it out, rose, sauntered to the rail, cast the +cigarette into the sea, went aft and so below, satisfied that the girl must +have recognised him and so knew that her secret was safe. + +But it was in an oddly disgruntled humour that he turned in--he who had +been so ready to twit Crane with his fantastic speculations concerning +the English girl, who had himself been the readiest to endue her with the +romantic attributes becoming a heroine of her country's Secret Service! +What if he must now esteem her in the merciless light of to-night's +exposure, as the most pitiable of all human spectacles, a poor lovesick +thing sans dignity, sans pride, sans heed for the world's respect, a woman +pursuing a man weary of her? + +He resented unreasonably the unreasonable resentment which the affair +inspired in him. + +What was it to him? He who had struck off all fettering bonds of common +human interests, who had renounced all common human emotions, who had set +his hand against all mankind that stood between him and that vengeful +purpose to which he had dedicated his life! He, the Lone Wolf, the +heartless, soulless, pitiless beast of prey! + +God in Heaven! what was any woman to him? + + + + +V + +ON THE BANKS + + +Unaccountably enough in his esteem, and more and more to Lanyard's +exasperation, the evil flavour of that overnight incident lasted; it +tinctured distastefully his first waking thoughts; and through all that +fourth day at sea his mood was dark with irrational depression. + +And the fifth day and the sixth were like unto the fourth. + +Constantly he caught himself on watch for the young woman, wondering how +she would comport herself toward him, unwilling witness though he had been +to that shabby scene. + +But, save distantly at meal times, he saw nothing of her. + +And though he knew that she was much on deck after midnight, he was +studious to keep out of her way. The tedium of stopping in a stuffy +stateroom, when the spell of restlessness was on him, waiting for the +sounds of his neighbour's return before he might venture forth, was +nothing; anything were preferable to figuring as the innocent bystander at +another encounter between the Brooke girl and her reluctant lover.... + +Then that happened which lent the business another complexion altogether. +Its second phase, of close development, drew toward an end. Subtle +underlying forces began to stir in their portentous latency. + +The rapiers which thus far had merely touched, shivering lightly against +each other, measuring each its opponent's strength, feeling out his skill, +fell apart, then re-engaged in sharp and deadly play. Steel met steel and, +clashing, struck off sparks whose fugitive glimmerings lightened measurably +the murk.... + +On the sixth night out, at eleven o'clock as a matter of routine, the +smoking room was closed for the night, terminating an uncommonly protracted +and, in Lanyard's esteem, irksome sitting at cards. Well tired, he went +immediately to his quarters, undressed, stretched out in his berth, and +switched off the light. + +Incontinently he found himself bedevilled by thoughts that would not rest. + +For upward of an hour he lay moveless, seeking oblivion in that very effort +to preserve immobility, while the _Assyrian_, lunging heavily on her way, +moaned and muttered tedious accompaniment to the chant of the working +engines. + +Despairing at length, and fretted by the closeness of his quarters, he got +up, dressed sketchily, and was shrugging into his fur-lined coat when he +heard the door to the adjoining stateroom open and close, stealth in the +sound of it. + +At that he hung up his overcoat, and threw himself down with a book on the +lounge seat beneath the port. The novel was dull enough in all conscience; +for that matter no tale within the compass of the cunningest weaver of +words could have enthralled his temper at that time. + +He read and read again page after page, but without intelligence. + +Between his eyes and the type-blackened paper mirages of the past trembled +and wavered; old faces, old scenes, old illusions took unsubstantial form, +dissolved, blended, faded away: a saddening show of shadows. + +His heavy eyelids drooped; slumber's drowsy vestments trailed lazily +athwart the sea of consciousness.... + +A slight noise startled him, either the shutting of the door to Stateroom +27, or the sound of the book dropping from his relaxed grasp. He sat up and +consulted his watch. The hour was half after twelve. + +The ship's bell sounded remotely a single, doleful stroke. + +He might have dozed five minutes or fifteen--long enough at least to leave +its tantalising effect of sleep desperately desirable, mockingly elusive, +almost grasped, whisked beyond grasping. And with this he was aware of +something even less tangible, a sense of something amiss, of something +vaguely wrong, as of an evil spirit stalking furtively through the darkened +labyrinth of the ship ... as impalpable and ineluctable as miasmic +exhalations of a morass.... + +Lanyard passed a hand across his forehead. Had he been dreaming, then? Was +this merely the reaction from some bitter nightmare? He could not remember. + +On sheer impulse he stood up, extinguished the light, opened the door. As +he did this he noted that a light burned in Stateroom 27, visible through +the ventilating grille. So the girl must have returned while he slept. Or +had she neglected to turn the switch when she went out? He could not be +certain. + +On the threshold he paused a little, attentive to the familiar rumour of +the ship by night: the prolonged sloughing of riven waters down the side, +gnashing of swells hurled back by the bows, sibilance of draughts in +alleyways, groaning of frames, a thin metallic rattle of indeterminate +origin, the crunching grind of the steering gear, the everlasting +deep-throated diapason of the engines, somewhere aft in that tier of +staterooms a persistent human snore ... nothing unusual, no alarming +discordance.... + +Yet the feeling that mischief was afoot would not be still. + +Lanyard moved down to the junction of the thwartship passage with the +fore-and-aft alleyway. + +Here he commanded a view of the promenade-deck landing and the main +companionway, all in darkness but for a feeble glimmer of reflected +starlight through the open deck port on the far side of the vessel. Beyond +this the rail was stencilled against the dull face of the sea with its far +lifting and falling horizon; within, no more was visible than the dimmed +whiteness of the forward partition, the dense, indefinite mass of balusters +winding up to the boat-deck, and the flat plane of the tiled landing. + +On this last, near the mouth of the port alleyway, half obscured by the +intervening balusters, something moved, something huge, black, and formless +swayed and writhed strangely, and in the strangest silence, like a dumb, +tormented misshapen brute transfixed to one spot from which its most +anguished efforts might not avail to budge it. + +Lanyard ran forward, rounded the well of the companionway, and pulled up. + +Now the nature of the thing was revealed. Blackly silhouetted against the +square of the doorway two human figures were close-locked and struggling +desperately, straining, resisting, thrusting, giving, recovering ... and +all with never a sound more than the deadened thump of a shifting foot or +the rasp of hard-won breathing. + +For several seconds the spectator could not distinguish one contestant from +the other. Then a change in the fortunes of war enabled him to make out +that one was a woman, the other, and momentarily more successful, a man. +Slender and youthful and strong, she fought with the indomitable fury of +a pantheress. He on his part had won this much temporary advantage--had +broken the woman's clutch upon his throat and was bending her back over +his hip, one hand fumbling at her windpipe, the other imprisoning her two +wrists. + +Yet she was far from being vanquished. Even as Lanyard moved toward the +pair, she drove a savage knee into the man's middle and, as he checked +instantaneously with a grunt of pained surprise, regained her footing and +planted both elbows against his chest, striving frantically to free her +hands. + +Simultaneously Lanyard took the fellow from behind, wound an arm around his +neck, jerked his head sharply back, twisted his forearm till he released +the woman's wrists, and threw him with a force that must have jarred his +every bone. + +The woman staggered back against the partition, panting and sobbing beneath +her breath. The man rebounded from his fall with astonishing agility, and +flew back at Lanyard. An object in his right hand gave off the dull gleam +of polished steel. + +Lanyard, his automatic in his stateroom, in the pocket of the overcoat +where he had deposited it when meaning to go out on deck, lacked any means +of defense other than his two hands; but his one-time fame as an amateur +pugilist had been second only to his fame as a connaisseur d'art; and to +one whose youth had been passed in association with the Apaches of Paris, +some mastery of la savate was an inevitable accomplishment. + +A lightning coup de pied planted a heel against one of the man's shins, +and his onslaught faltered in a gust of curses. Then the point of his jaw +received the full force of Lanyard's right fist with all the ill will +imaginable behind it. The man reared back, reeled into the black mouth of +the alleyway, fell heavily. + +Even so, he demonstrated extraordinary vitality and appetite for +punishment. He had no more gone down than the adventurer, peering into the +gloom, saw him struggle up on his knees. Instantly Lanyard made toward +him, intent on finishing this work so well begun, but in his second stride +tripped over a heavy body hidden in the shadows, and pitched headlong. +Falling, he was conscious of a flashing thing that sped past his cheek, +immediately above his shoulder. There followed an echoing thud against the +forward partition. + +Picking himself up smartly, Lanyard crept several paces down the alleyway, +flattening against the wall, straining his vision, listening intently, +rewarded by neither sign nor sound of his antagonist. + +That one must have been swift to advantage himself of Lanyard's tumble. +If he had not vanished into thin air, or gone to earth in some untenanted +stateroom thereabouts, he found in the close blackness of that narrow +passage a cloak of positive invisibility to cover his escape. + +And there is little wisdom in stalking an armed man whom one cannot see, +with what little light there is at one's own back. + +So Lanyard went back to the landing, stepping carefully over the obstacle +which had both thrown him and saved his life--the supine body of a third +man, motionless; whether dead or merely insensible, he did not stop to +investigate. His immediate concern was for the woman. + +As he came upon her now, she stood en profile to the partition, tugging +strongly at something embedded in the woodwork close by her side, between +her waist and armpit. At the sound of his approach she looked up with a +tremor of apprehension quickly calmed. + +"Monsieur Duchemin! If you please--" + +Lanyard, in no way surprised to recognise the voice of Miss Cecelia Brooke, +stepped closer. "What is it?" he enquired; and then, bending over to look, +found that her cloak was pinned to the partition by the blade of a heavy +knife buried a full half of its considerable length. + +"He threw it as you fell," the girl explained. "I was in the direct line." + +"Permit me, mademoiselle...." + +He laid hold of the haft of the weapon and with some difficulty withdrew +it. + +"Who was it?" he asked, weighing the knife in his palm and examining it as +closely as he could without the aid of light. + +There was no reply. Directly her cloak was freed, the girl had moved +hastily away to the body over which Lanyard had stumbled. He heard an +imploring whisper--"Please!"--and looked up to see her on her knees. + +"Who, then, is this?" he demanded, joining her. + +"Lionel--Lieutenant Thackeray. Please--O please!--tell me he is not dead." + +Her voice broke; he saw her slender body convulsed with racking emotions. +Kneeling, Lanyard made a hasty and superficial examination, necessarily no +more under the conditions. + +"His heart beats," he announced--"he breathes. I do not think him seriously +injured." He made as if to get up. "I will get a light--a flash-lamp from +my stateroom--or, better still, the ship's surgeon--" + +Her hand fell upon his arm. "Please, no! Not that--not now. Later, if +necessary; but now--surely, you can help me carry him to his stateroom." + +"You know the number?" + +"It's close by--30." + +"Find it, and light up. No--leave this to me; I can carry him without +assistance." + +The girl rose and disappeared. Lanyard passed his arms beneath the +Englishman's body, gathered him into them, and struggled to his feet: no +inconsiderable task. + +Light gushed from an open doorway, the third aft from the landing. +Staggering, the adventurer entered and deposited the body upon the berth. +Immediately the girl closed and bolted the door, then passed between him +and the berth to bend over the unconscious man. He lay in deep coma, limbs +a-sprawl, unpleasant glints of white between his half-closed eyelids, his +breathing stertorous through parted lips. Free of its sling, his wounded +arm dangled over the edge of the berth. In putting him down, Lanyard had +remarked that its sleeve had been slit to the shoulder, and that its +bandages were undone. Now, in amazement, he saw the arm was firm and +muscular, with an unbroken skin, never a sign of any injury in all its +length. + +Gently the girl lifted the lieutenant's head to the light, discovering a +hideously bruised swelling at the base of the skull, blood darkly matting +the close-clipped hair. + +She requested without looking round: "Water, please--and a towel." + +Obediently Lanyard ran hot and cold water into the hand-basin in equal +proportions. + +"Would it not be well now to call the ship's surgeon?" he suggested +diffidently. + +"Is that necessary? I am something of a nurse. This is simply a bad +contusion--no worse, I believe. He was struck down from behind, a cowardly +blow in the dark, as he started to go up on deck. I had been waiting for +him. When he didn't come I suspected something was wrong. I came down, +found him lying there, that brute kneeling over him." + +She spoke coolly enough, in contrast with the high excitement that inflamed +her eyes as she turned away from the berth. + +"Monsieur Duchemin, are you armed?" + +"I have this," he said, exhibiting the knife thrown by the would-be +murderer--a simple trench dagger, without distinguishing marks of any sort. + +"Then take this, please." Extracting an automatic pistol from a holster +belted beneath Thackeray's coat, she proffered it. "You won't mind staying +here a moment, standing guard, while I fetch a dressing from my room?" + +Before he could utter a word of protest she had slipped out into the +alleyway, shutting the door behind her. + +When several minutes had passed the adventurer found himself beset by +increasing concern. This long delay seemed not only inconsistent with her +solicitude, but indicated a possibility that the girl had braved unwisely +the chance of a resumption of hostilities on the part of her late and as +yet anonymous assailant. + +Darkening the room as a matter of common-sense precaution, Lanyard, pistol +in hand, stepped out into the alleyway in time to see the girl in the act +of rising from her knees on the landing, near the spot where Thackeray had +fallen. The light of her flash-lamp was blotted out as she came hurriedly +aft. + +Perplexed, he turned back and switched on the light as she entered. + +Her eyes challenged his almost defiantly. + +"Was I long?" she asked, breathless. "I dropped something...." + +Lanyard bowed without speaking. Instinctively he knew that she was lying; +and divining this in his attitude, she coloured and, disconcerted, turned +away. For a moment, while she busied herself arranging on a convenient +chair an assortment of first-aid accessories, he fancied that her +half-averted face wore a look of sullen chagrin, with its compressed lips, +downcast eyes, and faintly gathered brows. + +But directly she needed assistance, and requested it of him in a subdued +and impersonal manner, showing a countenance devoid of any incongruous +emotion. + +Lanyard, lifting the lieutenant's head and heavy torso, helped turn him +face downward on the berth, then stood aside, thoughtfully watching the +girl's deft fingers sop absorbent cotton in an antiseptic wash and apply it +to the injury. + +After a little, he said: "If mademoiselle has no more immediate use for +me--" + +"Thank you, monsieur. You have already done so very much!" + +"Then, if mademoiselle will supply the name of this assassin--" + +"I know it no more than you, monsieur!" She glanced up at him, startled. +"What do you mean to do?" + +"Why, naturally, lodge an information with the captain concerning this +outrage--" + +"Oh, please, no!" + +At a loss, Lanyard shrugged eloquently. + +"Not yet, at all events," she hastened to amend. "Let Lionel judge what is +best to be done when he comes to." + +"But, mademoiselle, who can say when that will be?" He pointed out the +ugly, ragged abrasion in the young Englishman's scalp exposed by the +cleansing away of the clotted blood. "No ordinary blow," he commented; +"something very like a slung-shot or a loaded cane did that work. If I may +venture again to advise--unless mademoiselle is herself a surgeon--" + +Her colour faded and she caught her breath sharply. "You think it as +serious as all that?" + +"I do not know. Such a blow might easily fracture the skull, possibly bring +about a concussion of the brain. Regard, likewise, his laborious breathing. +I most assuredly advise consulting competent authority." + +She did not immediately answer, turning back undivided attention to her +task; but he noticed that her hands were tremulous, however, dextrously +they finished dressing and bandaging the hurt; and deep distress troubled +the handsome eyes she turned to his when she rose. + +"You are right," she murmured--"unquestionably right, monsieur. We must +have the surgeon in...." + +But when Lanyard advanced a hand toward the bell-push, to call the steward, +she interposed in quick alarm: + +"No--if you please, a moment; I must have time to think!" Her slender +fingers writhed together in her agony of doubt and irresolution. "If only I +knew what to do...." + +Lanyard was dumb. There was, indeed, nothing helpful he could offer, who +was without a solitary tangible or trustworthy clue to the nature of this +strange business. + +He owned himself sadly mystified. In the light--or, rather, the shadow--of +this latest development, his revised suspicions seemed unwarranted to the +point of impertinence; unless, of course, one assumed the unknown assailant +to be a rejected lover or wronged husband. And somehow one did not, in +the presence of this clear-eyed, straight-limbed, courageous young +Englishwoman, so wanting in self-consciousness. + +And yet ... what the deuce was she to this man whom, indisputably, she +followed against his wish? + +And what conceivable chain of circumstances linked their fortunes with his, +and that double burglary of the first night out with this murderous assault +of to-night? + +Nor was to-night's work, considered by itself, lacking in questionable +features. + +Why had Thackeray carried that sound arm in a sling? How had its bandages +come to be unwrapped? Not in struggles before being placed hors de combat, +for he had never had a chance to resist. Had his assailant, then, unwrapped +it subsequently? If so, with what end in view? + +Why had this Miss Cecelia Brooke, surprising the thug at his work, joined +battle with him so bravely and so madly without calling for help? + +What hidden motive excused this singular hesitation to summon the surgeon, +this reluctance to inform the officers of the ship? + +What duplicity was that which the girl had paraded concerning her +procrastination when Lanyard had surprised her on her knees out there on +the landing? + +If this were what Lanyard had first inclined to think it, Secret Service +intrigue, surely it was weirdly intricate when an English girl hesitated +to safeguard an Englishman by taking into her confidence the officers of a +British ship, British manned! + +Nevertheless, and however much he might wonder and doubt, Lanyard would +never question her. Never of his own volition would he probe more deeply +into this mystery, take one farther step into the intricacies of its maze. + +So, in silence, he waited, passively courteous, at her further service if +she had need of him, content if she had not, tolerant of her tacit prayer +for time in which to think a way out of her difficulties. + +After some few moments he grew uncomfortably aware that he had become the +object of a speculative regard not at all unfavourable. + +He indulged in a mental gesture of resignation. + +Then what he had feared befell, not altogether as he had apprehended, but +in the girl's own fashion, if without material difference in the upshot. + +"I am afraid," said she in an even voice, so quietly pitched as to be +inaudible to any eavesdropper. "This becomes a task greater than I had +dreamed, more than my wits can cope with. Monsieur Duchemin...." + +She hesitated. He bowed slightly. "If mademoiselle can make any use of my +poor abilities, she has but to command me." + +"We--I have much to thank you for already, monsieur, much more than I can +ever hope to reward adequately--" + +"Reward?" he echoed. "But, mademoiselle--!" + +"Please don't misunderstand." She flushed a little, very prettily. "I am +simply trying to express my sense of obligation, not only for what you have +already done, but for what I mean to ask you to do." + +Again he bowed, without comment, amiably receptive. + +She resumed with perceptible effort: "I can trust you--" + +"You must make sure of that before you do," he warned her, smiling. + +"I am sure," she averred gravely. + +"You know nothing concerning me, mademoiselle--pardon! For all you know +I may be the greatest rogue in Christendom. And I must tell you in all +candour, sometimes I think I am." + +"What I may or may not know concerning you, Monsieur Duchemin, is +immaterial as long as I know you are what you have proved yourself to me, a +gentleman, considerate, generous, brave, and--not inquisitive." + +He was frankly touched. If this were flattery, tone and manner robbed it of +fulsomeness, rendered it subtle beyond the coarser perceptions of the man. +He knew himself for what he was, knew himself unworthy; and that part +of him which was unaffectedly French, whether by accident of birth or +influence of environment, and so impulsive and emotional, reacted in +spontaneous gratitude to this implicit acceptance of him for what he strove +to seem to be. + +"Mademoiselle is gracious beyond my deserts," he protested. "Only let me +know how I may be of use...." + +"In three ways: Continue to be lenient in your judgments, and ask me no +more questions than you must because ... I may not answer...." Her hands +worked together again. She added unhappily, in a faint voice: "I dare not." + +That, too, moved him, since he had been far from lenient in his judgments. +He responded the more readily: "All that is understood, mademoiselle." + +"Please go at once back to your stateroom, and as quietly as possible. +There is a bare chance you were not recognised, that nobody knows who came +to my aid to-night. If you can slip away without attracting attention, so +much the better for us, for all of us. You may not be suspected." + +"Trust me to use my best discretion." + +"Lastly ... take and keep this for me, till I ask you for it again. Hide it +as secretly as you can. It may be sought for, is certain to be if you are +believed to be in my confidence. It must not be found. And I may not want +it again before we land in New York." + +She extended a hand on whose palm rested a small and slender white +cylinder, no longer and little thicker than the toy pencil that dangles +from a dance-card: a tight roll of plain white paper enclosed in a wrapping +of transparent oiled silk, gummed fast down its length and, at either end, +sealed with miniature blobs of black wax. + +"Will you do this for me, Monsieur Duchemin? I warn you, it may cost you +your life." + +He took it, his temper veering to the whimsical. "What is life?" he +questioned. "A prelude--perhaps an overture to that great drama, Death. Who +knows? Who cares?" + +She heard him in a stare. "You place no value on life?" + +"Mademoiselle," he said, "I have lived nearly thirty years in this world, +three years in the theatre of war, seldom far from the trenches of one +front or another. I tell you, I know death too well...." + +He shrugged and put the roll of paper away in a pocket. + +"You understand it must not be taken from you under any circumstance? As a +last resort, it must be destroyed rather than yielded up." + +"It shall be," he said quietly. "Is there anything more?" + +She shook her head, thoughtfully knuckling her underlip. + +"How can I communicate with you in event of necessity after we get to New +York?" she asked. + +"I shall stop for a week or two at the Hotel Knickerbocker." + +"If anything should happen"--with a swift glance of anxiety toward the +motionless figure in the berth--"if anything should prevent my calling for +it within a week after our arrival, you will be good enough to deliver it +to--" She caught herself up quickly, the unuttered words trembling on her +lip. "I will write down the address of the person to whom you will deliver +it, and slip it underneath the door between our rooms--first making +certain you are there to receive it--if I do not ask you to return +the--thing--before we land." + +"That shall be as you will." + +"When you have memorized the address you will destroy it?" + +"Depend on that." + +"I think that is all. Thank you, Monsieur Duchemin--and good-night." + +She extended her hand. He saluted it punctiliously with fingertips and +lips. + +"If you will put out the light, mademoiselle, it may aid me to get away +unseen." + +She nodded and offered him Thackeray's pistol. "Take this. O, I have +another with me." + +Lanyard accepted the weapon and, when she had darkened the room, opened the +door, slipped out, and closed it behind him so noiselessly that the girl +could not believe he was gone. + +Nothing hindered his return to Stateroom 29. + +Fully two minutes after he had locked himself in he heard the distant +clamour of the annunciator, calling a steward to Stateroom 30. + + + + +VI + +UNDER SUSPICION + + +He sat for a long time on the edge of his berth, elbow on knee, chin in +hand, unstirring, gaze fixed upon that little cylinder of white paper +resting in the hollow of his palm, in profoundest concentration pondering +the problems it presented: what it was, what possession of it meant to +Michael Lanyard, what safe disposition to make of it pending welcome relief +from this unsought and most unwelcome trust. + +This last question alone bade fair to confound his utmost ingenuity. + +As for what it was, Lanyard was well satisfied that he now held the true +focus of this conspiracy, a secret of the first consequence, far too +momentous to the designs of England to be entrusted, though couched in the +most cryptic cipher ever mind of man devised, even to cables or mails which +England herself controlled. + +Solely to prevent this communication from reaching America, Lanyard +believed, Germany had sown mines broadcast in all the waters which the +_Assyrian_ must cross, and had commissioned her U-boats, without fail and +at whatever cost, to sink the vessel if by any accident she won safely +through the mine-fields. + +In the effort to steal this secret, German spies had sailed on the +_Assyrian_ knowing well the double risk they ran, of being shot like rats +if found out, of being drowned like neutrals if the ship went down through +the efforts of their compatriots. + +It was the zeal of Potsdam's agents, seeking the bearer of this secret, +which had caused the rifling of Miss Brooke's luggage when she fell under +suspicion, thanks to her clandestine way of coming aboard; and through the +same agency young Thackeray had been all but murdered when suspicion, for +whatever reason, shifted to him. + +To insure safe transmission of this communication, England had held the +_Assyrian_ idle in port, day after day, while her augmented patrols scoured +the seas, hunting down ruthlessly every submarine whose periscope dared +peer above the surface, and while her trawlers innumerable swept the +channels clear of mines. + +To prevent its theft, Lieutenant Thackeray had invented the subterfuge of +the "wounded" arm, amid whose splints and bandages (Lanyard never doubted) +the cylinder had been secreted. + +Finally, it was as a special agent, deep in her country's confidence, that +this English girl had smuggled herself aboard at the last moment, bringing, +no doubt, this very cylinder to be transferred to the keeping of Lieutenant +Thackeray or, perhaps, another confrere, should she find reason to think +herself suspected, her trust endangered. + +Nothing strange in that; women had served their countries in such +capacities before; the secret archives of European chancellories are +replete with their records. Lanyard himself remembered many such women, +brilliant mondaines from many lands domiciled in that Paris of the so-dead +yesterday to serve by stealth their respective governments; but never, it +was true, a woman of the caste of Cecelia Brooke; unless, indeed, this were +an actress of surpassing talent, gifted to hoodwink the most skeptical and +least susceptible of men. + +And yet.... + +Lanyard's train of thought faltered. New doubt of the girl began to shadow +his meditations. Contradictory circumstances he had noted intruded, +uninvited, to challenge overcredulous conclusions concerning her. + +Would any secret agent worth her salt invite suspicion by making such a +conspicuously furtive embarkation, by such ostentatious avoidance of her +fellow passengers, by surrounding herself with an atmosphere of such +palpable mystery? Would such an one confess she had a "secret" to an utter +stranger, as she had to Lanyard that first night out? Would she, under any +conceivable circumstances, entrust to that same stranger that selfsame +secret upon whose inviolate preservation so much depended? + +And would she make love-trysts on the decks by night? + +Would a brother-agent take her in his arms, then reprove her with every +symptom of vexation for her "madness," her "insanity," her "nonsense" that +was like to "drive me mad"?--Thackeray's own words! + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits for some plausible reading of this +riddle. + +Was this Brooke girl possibly (of a sudden he sat bolt upright) a Prussian +agent infatuated with this young Englishman and by him beloved in spite of +all that forbade their passion? + +Did not this explanation reconcile every apparent inconsistency in her +conduct, even to the entrusting to a stranger of the stolen secret, the +purloined paper she dared not keep about her lest it be found in her +possession? + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. Visibly his features hardened. If this surmise of +his were any way justified in the outcome, he promised Miss Cecelia Brooke +an hour of most painful penitence. + +Woman or not, she need not look for mercy from him, who must ever be +merciless in his dealings with Ekstrom's crew. + +To be made that one's tool! + +The very thought was intolerable.... + +As for himself, possession of this paper meant that pitfalls were digged +for his every step. + +If ever the British found cause to suspect him, his certain portion would +be to face a firing squad in dusk of early day. + +If, on the other hand, these Prussian agents on board the _Assyrian_ ever +got wind of the fact that the cylinder was in his care, his fate was apt to +be a knife between his ribs the first time he was caught alone and--with +his back to the assassin. + +Two courses, then, were open to him: the most sensible and obvious, to go +straightway to the captain of the _Assyrian_, report all that he knew or +surmised, and turn over the paper for safekeeping; one alternative, to hide +the cylinder so absolutely that the most drastic search would overlook it, +yet so handily that he could rid himself of it at an instant's notice. + +But the first course involved denunciation of the Brooke girl. And what +if she were innocent? What if, after all, these doubts of her were the +specious spawn of facts misinterpreted, misconstrued? What if she proved to +be all she seemed? Could he, even though what he had warned her he might +be, the greatest rogue unhung, be false to a trust reposed in him by such a +woman? + +As to that, there was no question in his mind; he would never betray her, +lacking irrefutable conviction that she was an employee of the Prussian spy +system. + +Then how to hide the paper? + +Kneeling, Lanyard drew from beneath the berth his bellows-bag, selected +from its contents a black japanned tin case containing a rather elaborate +though compact trench medicine kit, the idle purchase of an empty afternoon +in London. Extracting from its fittings a small leather-covered case, he +replaced the kit, relocked and shoved the bag back beneath the berth. + +Then, standing over the hand-basin, he opened the leather-covered case. Its +velvet-lined compartments held a hypodermic syringe and needle, and a glass +phial of twenty-four one-thirtieth grain morphia tablets. + +Uncorking the phial, he shook out all the tablets, replaced three, then +slid the paper cylinder into the tube; it fitted precisely, concealed by +the label of the manufacturing chemist, leaving room for six more tablets. +Lanyard inserted four on top of the cylinder, moistening the lowermost +slightly to make it stick, recorked the phial, and returned it to its +compartment. + +Next he dissolved three morphia tablets in a little water in the bottom of +a glass, filled the syringe with the strong solution, fitted on the needle, +squirted most of the contents down the waste-pipe, and consigned the +remaining tablets to the same innocuous fate. + +Finally he replaced needle and syringe in the case, let the glass which had +held the solution stand without rinsing, and put the open case upon the +shelf above the basin. + +A light tapping sounded on the panels of his door. + +"Well? Who's there?" + +"Your steward, sir. Captain Osborne's compliments, an' 'e'd like to see you +in 'is room as soon as convenient, sir." + +"You may say I will come at once." + +"'Nk you, sir." + +A summons to have been expected as a sequel to the surgeon's report after +attending Lieutenant Thackeray; none the less, Lanyard had not expected it +so soon. + +Authority, he reflected, ran true to form afloat as well as ashore; it was +prompt enough when required to apply a pound or so of cure. Surely the +officers, at least the captain, must have been advised why this voyage +was apt to prove exceptionally hazardous; and surely in the light of such +information it had been wiser to set armed watches on every deck by night, +rather than permit the lives of passengers to be imperilled through the +possible activities of Prussian agents among them incogniti. + +And now that he was reminded of it, was not this, perhaps, but a device of +the enemy's to decoy him from the comparative safety of his stateroom? + +It was with a hand in his jacket pocket, grasping Thackeray's automatic, +that he presently left the room. The alleyway, however, was deserted except +for his steward; who, as he appeared, turned and led the way up to the +boat-deck. + +Rounding the foot of the companionway, Lanyard contrived a hasty glance +down the port alleyway. The door to Stateroom 30 was on the hook; a light +burned within. Outside a guard was stationed, a sailor with a cutlass: the +first application of the pound of cure! + +At the heels of his guide, he approached a door in the deck-house, devoted +to officers' accommodations, beneath the bridge. Here the steward knocked +discreetly. A heavy voice grumbling within was stilled for a moment, then +barked a sharp invitation to enter. The steward turned the knob, announced +dispassionately "Monseer Duchemin," and stood aside. Lanyard entered a +well-lighted room, simply but comfortably furnished as the captain's office +and sitting room; sleeping quarters adjoined, the head of a berth with a +battered pillow showing through a door a foot or so ajar. + +Four persons were present; the notion entered Lanyard's head that a fifth +possibly lurked in the room beyond, spying, eavesdropping: not a bad scheme +if Thackeray had an associate on board whose identity it was desirable to +keep under cover. + +The door closed gently behind him as he stood politely bowing, conscious +that the four faces turned his way were distinguished by a singular variety +of expression. + +Miss Cecelia Brooke was nearest him, beside a chair from which she had +evidently just risen, her pretty young face rather pale and set, a scared +look in her candid eyes. + +Beyond her, the captain sat with his back to a desk: a broad-beamed, +vigorous body, intensely masculine, choleric by habit, and just now in an +extraordinarily grim temper, his iron-gray hair bristling from his +pillow, and his stout person visibly suffering the discomfort of wearing +night-clothes beneath his uniform coat and trousers. Bending upon Lanyard +the steel-hard regard of small, steel-blue eyes, he drummed the arms of his +chair with thick and stubby fingers. + +To one side, standing, was the third officer, a Mr. Sherry, a youngish man +with a pleasant cast of countenance which temporarily wore a look, rarely +British, of ingrained sense of duty at odds with much embarrassment. + +Lastly Mr. Crane's lanky person was draped, with its customary effect of +carelessness, on one end of the lounge seat. He looked up, nodded shortly +but cheerfully to Lanyard, then resumed a somewhat quizzical contemplation +of the half-smoked cigar which etiquette obliged him to neglect in the +presence of a lady. + +"This is the gentleman?" Captain Osborne queried heavily of the girl. +Receiving a murmured affirmative, he continued: "Good morning, Monsieur +Duchemin.... Thanks, Miss Brooke; we won't keep you up any longer +to-night." + +He rose, bowed stiffly as Mr. Sherry opened the door for the girl, and when +she was gone threw himself back into his chair with a force which made it +enter a violent protest. + +"Sit down, sir. Daresay you know what we want of you." + +"It is not difficult to guess," Lanyard admitted. "A sad business, +monsieur." + +"Sad!" the captain iterated in a tone of harsh sarcasm. "That's a mild name +to give murder." + +Even had it not been blurted violently at him, that word was staggering. +The adventurer echoed it blankly. "You can't mean Lieutenant Thackeray--?" + +"Not yet, though doctor says it may come to that; the poor chap's in a bad +way--concussion." + +"So one feared. But monsieur said 'murder'...." + +Captain Osborne sat forward, steely gaze mercilessly boring into Lanyard's +eyes. "Monsieur Duchemin," he said slowly, "Lieutenant Thackeray was not +the only passenger to suffer through to-night's villainy. The other died +instantly." + +"In God's name, monsieur--who?" + +"Bartholomew." + +"Mr. Bartholomew!" A memory of that brisk little body's ruddy, cheerful, +British personality flashed athwart the screen of memory. Lanyard murmured: +"Incredible!" + +"Murdered," the captain proceeded, "in Stateroom 28. Lieutenant Thackeray +and he were friends, shared the suite. Apparently Mr. Bartholomew heard +some unusual noise in 30 and left his berth to investigate. He was struck +down from behind as he approached the communicating door. The murderer had +got in by way of the sitting room, 26." + +Mr. Sherry added in an awed voice: "Frightful blow--skull crushed like an +eggshell." + +There was a pause. Crane thoughtfully relighted his cigar, and wrapped his +right cheek round it. The captain glared glassily at Lanyard. Mr. Sherry +looked, if possible, more uncomfortable than ever. Lanyard pondered, +aghast. + +Ekstrom's work, of a certainty! This was his way, the way he imposed upon +his creatures. Ekstrom, ever a killer, obsessed by the fallacious notion +that dead men tell no tales.... + +And Bartholomew had been in this mess with Thackeray, both of them +operatives of the British Secret Service! + +"Miss Brooke has given her version of the attack on Lieutenant Thackeray," +the captain pursued. "Be good enough to let us have yours." + +Succinctly Lanyard recounted the happenings between the moment when +premonition of evil drew him from his stateroom and the moment when he +returned thereto. + +He was at pains, however, to omit all mention of the cylinder of paper; +that, pending definite knowledge to the contrary, was a sacred trust, a +matter of his honour, solely the affair of the Brooke girl. + +The captain squared himself toward Lanyard, his face louring, his jaw +pugnacious. + +"How did you happen to be up and dressed at that late hour, so ready to +respond to this--ah--premonition of yours?" + +"I sleep not well, monsieur. It was my intention to go on deck and +endeavour to walk off my insomnia." + +Captain Osborne commented with a snort. + +"Why did you leave Miss Brooke alone before she called the doctor?" + +"At mademoiselle's request, naturally." + +"You'd been deuced gallant up to that time. I presume it didn't occur to +you that the young woman might need further protection?" + +Lanyard shrugged. "It did not occur to me to refuse her request, monsieur." + +"Didn't it strike you as odd she should wish to be left alone with +Lieutenant Thackeray?" + +"It was not my affair, monsieur. It was her wish." + +"Excuse me, cap'n." Crane sat up. "I'd like to ask Mr. Lanyard a question." + +But Lanyard had prepared himself against that, and acknowledged the touch +with a quiet smile and the hint of a bow. + +"Monsieur Crane...." + +"U.S. Secret Service," Crane informed him with a grin. "Velasco spotted +you--had seen you years ago in Paruss--tipped me off." + +"So one inferred. And these gentlemen?" Lanyard indicated the captain and +third officer. + +"I wised them up--had to, when this happened." + +"Naturally, monsieur. Proceed...." + +"I only wanted to ask if you noticed anything to make you think perhaps +there was an understanding between Miss Brooke and the lieutenant?" + +"Why should I?" + +"I ain't curious why you should. What I want to know is, did you?" + +"No, monsieur," Lanyard lied blandly. + +"The little lady didn't seem to take on more'n she naturally would if the +lieutenant'd been a stranger, eh?" "How to judge, when one has never seen +mademoiselle distressed on behalf of another?" + +Crane abandoned his effort, resuming contemplation of his cigar. + +"Now we come to the point. Monsieur Lanyard, or whatever your name is." + +"I have found Duchemin very agreeable, monsieur le capitaine." + +"I daresay," Captain Osborne sneered. He hesitated, glowering in the +difficulty of thinking. "See here, Monsieur Duchemin--since you prefer that +style--I'm not going to beat about the bush with you. I'm a plain man, +plain-spoken. They tell me you reformed. I don't know anything about that. +It's my conviction, once a thief, always a thief. I may be wrong." + +"Right or wrong, monsieur might easily be less offensive." + +The captain's dark countenance became still more darkly congested. +Implacable prejudice glinted in his small eyes. Nor was his temper softened +by the effrontery of this offender in giving back look for look with a calm +poise that overshadowed his arrogance of an honest, law-abiding man. + +He made a vague gesture of impatience. + +"The point is," he said, "this crime was accompanied by robbery." + +"Am I to understand I am accused?" + +"Nobody is accused," Crane cut in hastily. + +"You have found no clues--?" + +"Nary clue." + +"What I want to say to you, Monsieur Duchemin, is this: the stolen property +has got to be recovered before this ship makes her dock in New York. +It means the loss of my command if it isn't. It means more than that, +according to my information; it means a disastrous calamity to the Allied +cause. And you're a Frenchman, Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"And a thief. Monsieur le capitaine must not forget his pet conviction." + +"As to that, a man can't always be particular about the tools he employs. I +believe the old saying, set a thief to catch a thief, holds good." + +"Do I understand," Lanyard suggested sweetly, "you are about to honour me +by utilizing my reputed talents, by commissioning a thief to catch this +thief of to-night?" + +"Precisely. You know more of this matter than any of us here. You were at +hand-grips with the murderer--and let him get away." + +"To my deep regret. But I have told you how that happened." + +"Seems a bit strange you made no real effort to find out what the scoundrel +looked like." + +"It was dark in that alleyway, monsieur." + +The captain made an inarticulate noise, apparently meant to convey an +effect of ironic incredulity. More intelligible comment was interrupted by +a ring of the telephone. He swung around, clapped receiver to ear, snapped +an impatient "Well?" and listened with evident exasperation. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. This business of telephoning was conceivably +well-timed; not improbably the captain was receiving the report of somebody +who had been sent to search Stateroom 29 in Lanyard's absence. He wondered +and, wondering, glanced at Crane, to find that gentleman watching him with +a whimsical glimmer which he was quick to extinguish when the captain said +curtly, "Very good, Mr. Warde," and turned back from the telephone, his +manner more than ever truculent. + +"Mr. Lanyard," he said--"Monsieur Duchemin, that is--a valuable paper has +been stolen, an exceedingly valuable document. I don't know which carried +it, Lieutenant Thackeray or Mr. Bartholomew. But I do know such a paper was +in their possession. And to the best of my knowledge, we three were the +only ones on board that did know it. And it has disappeared. Now, sir, you +may or may not be deeper in this affair than you have admitted. If you are, +I'd advise you to own up." + +"Monsieur le capitaine implies my complicity in this dastardly crime!" + +Osborne shook his head doggedly. "I imply nothing. I only say this: if you +know anything you haven't told us, my advice is to make a clean breast of +it." + +"I have nothing to tell you, monsieur, beyond the fact that I find you, +your tone, your manner, and your choice of words, intolerably insolent." + +"Then you know nothing--?" + +"Monsieur!" Lanyard cried sharply. + +"Very good," the captain persisted. "I'll take your word for it--and give +you till we take on our pilot to find the real criminal and make him give +up that paper." + +"And if I fail?" + +"Not a soul on board leaves the _Assyrian_ till the murderer and thief are +found--if they are not one." + +"But that is a general threat; whereas monsieur has honoured me by +making this a personal matter. What punishment have you prepared for +me specifically, if I fail to accomplish this task which baffles +your--shrewdness?" + +"I'll at least inform the port authorities in New York, tell them who you +are, and have you barred out of the country." + +"I want to say, Lanyard," Crane interposed, "this isn't my notion of how to +deal with you, or in any way by my advice." + +"Thank you, monsieur," the adventurer replied icily, without removing his +attention from the captain. "What else, Captain Osborne?" + +"That is all I have to say to you to-night, sir. Good-night." + +"But I have something more to say to you, monsieur le capitaine. First, I +desire to give over to you this article which it will doubtless please you +to consider stolen property." Lanyard placed the automatic pistol on the +desk. "One of Lieutenant Thackeray's," he explained; "at Miss Brooke's +suggestion, I borrowed it as a life-preserver, in event of another brush +with this homicidal maniac." + +"She told us about that," Osborne said heavily, fumbling with the weapon. +"What else, sir?" + +"Only this, monsieur le capitaine: I shall use my best endeavour to uncover +the author of these crimes. If I succeed, be sure I shall denounce him. If +I succeed only in securing this valuable paper you speak of, be equally +sure you will never see it; for it shall leave my hands only to pass into +those which I consider entirely trustworthy." + +"The devil!" Captain Osborne leaped from his chair quaking with fury. "You +dare accuse me of disloyalty--!" + +"Now you mention it...." Lanyard cocked his head to one side with a +maddening effect of deliberation. "No," he concluded--"no; I wouldn't +accuse you of intentional treason, monsieur; for that would involve an +imputation of intelligence...." + +He opened the door and nodded pleasantly to Crane and the third officer. + +"Good-night, gentlemen," he said silkily. "Oh, and you, too, Captain +Osborne--good-night, I'm sure." + + + + +VII + +IN STATEROOM 29 + + +In spite of his own anger, something far from being either assumed or +inconsiderable, Lanyard was fain to pause, a few paces from the deck-house, +and laugh quietly at a vast and incoherent booming which was resounding in +the room he had just quitted--Captain Osborne trying to do justice to +the emotions inspired in his virtuous bosom by the cheek of this damned +gaol-bird. + +But suddenly, reminded of the grim reason for all this wretched brawling, +Lanyard shrugged off his amusement. Beneath his very feet, almost a man +lay dead, another perhaps dying, while the beast who had wrought that +devilishness remained at large. + +He comprehended in a wondering regard that wide, star-blazoned arch of +skies, that broad, dark, restful mystery of waters, that still, sweet world +of peace through which the _Assyrian_ forged, muttering contentedly at her +toil ... while Murder with foul hands and slavering chops skulked somewhere +in the darkened fabric of her, somewhere beyond that black mouth of the +deck-port yawning at Lanyard's elbow. + +From that same portal a man came abruptly but quietly, saw Lanyard standing +there, gave him a staring look and grudging nod, and strode forward to the +captain's quarters: Mr. Warde, the first officer. + +Lanyard recollected himself, and went below. + +Still the sailor guarded the door in that port alleyway; but now it stood +wide, and Cecelia Brooke was on its threshold, conversing guardedly with +the surgeon. Even as Lanyard caught sight of them, the latter bowed and +turned aft, while the girl retreated and refastened the door on its hook. + +Thus reminded of Crane's shrewd questions, Lanyard was speculating rather +foggily concerning the reason therefor as he turned down the passage to +his own quarters. What had the American noticed, or been told, to make him +surmise covert sympathy between the girl and the lieutenant? + +He caught himself yawning. Drowsiness buzzed in his brain. He had an +incoherent feeling that he would now sleep long and heavily. Entering his +stateroom, he put a shoulder against the door, pushing it to as he fumbled +for the switch. The circumstance that the lights were no longer burning as +he had left them failed to impress him as noteworthy in view of his belief +that, by the captain's orders, Mr. Warde had been ransacking his effects in +his absence. + +But when no more than a click responded to a turn of the switch, the room +remaining quite dark, Lanyard uttered an imprecation, abruptly very wide +awake indeed. + +Before he could move he stiffened to positive immobility: the cool, hard +nose of a pistol had come into contact with his skull, just behind the ear. + +Simultaneously a softly-modulated voice advised him in purest German: "Be +quite still, Herr Lanyard, and hold up your hands--so! Also, see that you +utter no sound till I give you leave.... Karl, the handkerchief." + +Lanyard stood motionless, hands well elevated, while a heavy silk blindfold +was whipped over his eyes and knotted tight at the back of his head. + +"Now your paws, Herr Lone Wolf--put them together behind your back, +prudently making no attempt to reach a pocket." + +Obediently Lanyard permitted his wrists to be caught together with a second +silk handkerchief. He could feel a slight sensation of heat upon his hands, +and guessed that this was caused by the light of a flash-lamp held close +to the flesh. None the less he took the chance of clenching his fists and +tensing the muscles of his wrists. + +"Tightly, Karl." + +The bonds were made painfully fast. Still it did not seem to occur to his +captors to oblige their prisoner to open his hands and relax his wrists. +Lanyard perceived a glimmer of hope in this oversight: the enemy was +normally stupid. + +"Now the lights again." + +After a little wait, during which he could hear the bulbs being pressed +back into their sockets, the switch clicked once more. + +"And now, swine-dog!"--the pistol tapped his skull significantly--"if you +value your life, speak, and speak quickly. Where is that document?" + +"Document?" Lanyard repeated in a tone of wonder. + +"Unless you are eager to explore the hereafter, tell us where we may find +it without delay." + +"Upon my word, I don't know what you're talking about." + +"You lie!" the German snapped. "Face about!" + +Somebody grasped his shoulders roughly and swung him round to the light, +the nose of the pistol shifting to press against his abdomen. + +"Search him, Karl." + +Unseen hands investigated his pockets cunningly. As they finished, the man +who answered to the name of Karl became articulate for the first time, +following a grunt of disappointment: + +"Nothing--he has it not upon him." + +"Look more thoroughly. Did you think him idiot enough to carry it where +you'd find it at the first dip? Imbecile!" + +For the purpose of this second search Lanyard's garments were ripped +open, and the enemy made sure that he carried nothing next his skin more +incriminating than a money-belt, which was forcibly removed. + +"His shoes--see to his shoes!" the first speaker insisted irritably. "Sit +down, Lanyard!" + +A petulant push sent the adventurer reeling across the cabin to fall upon +the lounge seat beneath the port. With some effort he assumed a sitting +position, while Karl, kneeling, hastily unlaced and tore off his shoes and +socks. + +"Nothing, captain," was the report. + +"Damnation!... Continue to search his luggage. Leave nothing unexamined. +In particular look into every hole and corner where none but a fool would +attempt to hide anything. This fine gentleman imagines we value his +intelligence too highly to believe he would leave the paper in plain +sight." + +To an accompaniment of sounds indicating that Karl was obeying his +superior, this last resumed in a tone of lofty contempt: + +"How is it you have abandoned the habit of going armed, Herr Lone Wolf? +That is not like you. Is it that you grow unwary through drug-using? But +that matters nothing. We have more important business to speak over, you +and I. You will be very, very docile, and answer promptly, also in a low +voice, if you would avoid getting hurt. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," Lanyard replied, furtively working at the bonds on his wrists. + +"Good. We speak together like good friends, yes?" + +"Naturally," said Lanyard. "It is so conducive to chumminess to be caressed +with an automatic pistol--you've no idea!" + +"Oblige by speaking German. Our ears are sick with all this bastard +English. Also, more quietly speak. Do not put me to the regrettable +necessity of shooting you." + +"How regrettable? You didn't stick at braining those others--" + +"Hardly the same thing. You are not like those English swine. You are +French; and Germany has no hatred for France, but only pity that it so +fatuously opposes manifest destiny. In truth, you are not even French, but +a great thief; and criminals have no patriotism, nor loyalty to any State +but their own, the state of moral turpitude." + +The speaker interrupted himself to relish his wit with a thick chuckle. And +Lanyard's jaws ached with the strain of self-control. He continued to pluck +at the folds of silk while concentrating in effort to memorise the voice, +which he failed utterly to place. Undoubtedly this animal was a shipboard +acquaintance, one who knew him well; but those detestable German gutturals +disguised his accents quite beyond identification. + +"For all that, you are not wise so to try my patience. I permit you five +minutes by my watch in which to make up your mind to surrender that +document." + +"How often must I tell you," Lanyard enquired, "all this talk of documents +is Greek to me?" + +"Then you have five minutes to brush up your classical education, and +translate into terms suited to your intelligence. I will have that document +from you or--in four more minutes--shoot you dead." + +To this Lanyard said nothing. But his patient attentions to the +handkerchief round his wrists were beginning perceptibly to be rewarded. + +"Moreover, Herr Lanyard, you will do yourself a very good turn by +confessing--entirely aside from saving your life." + +"How is that?" + +"Providing you persuade me of your good faith, I am empowered to offer you +employment in our service." + +Lanyard's breath passed hardly through a throat swollen with rage, chagrin, +and hatred, all hopelessly impotent. But he succeeded in preserving an +unruffled countenance, as his captor's next words demonstrated. + +"You are surprised, yes? You are thinking it over? Take your time--you have +three minutes more. Or perhaps you are sulky, resenting that our cleverness +has found you out? Be reasonable, my good man. Think: you cannot be +insensible to the honour my offer does you." + +"What do you want of me?" + +"First, that paper--thereafter to use your surpassing talents to the glory +of God and Fatherland. In addition, you will be greatly rewarded." + +"Now you do begin to interest me," Lanyard said coolly.... Surely he could +contrive some way to slay this beast with his naked hands! He must play for +time.... "How rewarded?" + +"As I say, with a place in the Prussian Secret Service, its protection, +freedom to ply your trade unhindered in America, even countenanced, till +that country becomes a German province under German laws." + +"But do I hear you offer this to a Frenchman?" + +"Undeceive yourself. Men of all nations to-day, recognising that the star +of Germany is in the ascendant, that soon all nations will be German, +are hastening to make their peace beforehand by rendering Germany good +service." + +"Something in that, perhaps," Lanyard admitted thoughtfully. + +"Think well, my friend.... Yes, Karl?" + +The voice of the other spy responded sullenly: "Nothing--absolutely +nothing." + +"Two minutes, Herr Lanyard." + +Of a sudden Lanyard's face was violently distorted in a grimace of terror. +He lurched his shoulders forward, openly struggling with his bonds. + +"But--good God!" he protested in a voice of terror, "you can't possibly be +so unreasonable! I tell you, I haven't got your damned paper!" + +A loop of the handkerchief slipped over one hand. + +"Be still! Cease your struggles. And not so loud, my friend!" The +peremptory voice dropped into mockery as Lanyard, pale and exhausted, sat +back trembling--and a second loop of silk dropped over the other hand. "So +you begin to appreciate that we mean business, yes? One minute and thirty +seconds!" + +"Have mercy!" the adventurer whined desperately--and licked his lips as if +he found them dry with fear. Now both hands were all but wholly free. True: +he remained blindfolded and covered by a deadly weapon. "Give me a chance. +I'll do anything you wish! But I can't give you what I haven't got." + +"Be silent! Here, Karl." + +There was a sound of unintelligible murmuring as the two spies conferred +together. Lanyard writhed in apparent extremity of terror. His hands were +free. He sought hopelessly for inspiration. What to do without arms? + +"Be grateful to Karl. He urges that perhaps you know nothing of the +document." + +"Don't you think I'd tell if I did know?" + +"Then you have one minute--no, forty seconds--in which to pledge yourself +to the Prussian Secret Service." + +"You want me to swear--?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then hear me," said Lanyard earnestly: "_You damned canaille_!" And in +one movement he tore the bandage from his eyes and launched himself head +foremost at the man who stood over him. + +He caught part of an oath drowned out by the splitting report of a pistol +that went off within an inch of his ear. Then his head took the man full +in the belly, and both went sprawling to the deck, Lanyard fighting like a +maniac. + +Sheer luck had guided clawing fingers to the right wrist of his antagonist, +round which they shut like jaws of a trap. At the same time he wrenched the +other's arm high above his head. + +Momentarily expecting the shock of a bullet from the pistol of the second +spy, he found time to wonder that it was so long deferred, and even in +the fury of his struggles, out of the corner of one eye caught a fugitive +glimpse of a tallish man, masked, standing back to the forward partition in +a pose of singular indecision, pistol poised in his grasp. + +Then the efforts of his immediate adversary threw him into a position in +which he was unable to see the other. + +Of a sudden the stateroom was filled with the thunder of an automatic, its +seven cartridges discharged in one brisk, rippling crash. + +It was as if a white-hot iron had been laid across Lanyard's shoulder. +Beneath him the man started convulsively, with such force as almost to +throw him off bodily, then relaxed altogether and lay limp and still, +pinning one of Lanyard's arms under him. + +Its visor displaced, the face of Baron von Harden was revealed, features +distorted, eyes glaring, a frozen mask of hate and terror. + +His arm free, the adventurer rolled away from the corpse in time to see the +open window-port blocked by the body of the other spy. + +Gathering himself together, he snatched up the pistol that dropped from the +inert grasp of the dead man, and levelled it at the port. + +But now that space was empty. + +He rose and paused for an instant, his glance instinctively seeking the +ledge above the hand-basin. + +The hypodermic outfit was there, but minus the phial. + +In the alleyway rose a confusion of running feet and shouting tongues. +A heavy banging rang on the door to Stateroom 29. Crane's nasal accents +called upon Lanyard to open. + + + + +VIII + +OFF NANTUCKET + + +Upon the authors of that commotion Lanyard wasted no consideration +whatever. Let them knock and clamour; he had more urgent work in hand, and +knew too well the penalty were he stupid enough to unbolt to them. Their +bodies would dam the doorway hopelessly; insistent hands would hinder him; +innumerable importunate enquiries would be dinned at him, all immaterial +in contrast with this emergency, a catechism one would need an hour to +satisfy. And all attempts would be futile to make them understand that, +while they plagued him with futile questions, a murderer and spy and thief +was making good his escape, being afforded ample opportunity to slough all +traces of his recent work and resume unchallenged his place among them. + +No; if by any freak of good fortune, any exertion of wit or daring, that +one were to be apprehended, it must be within the next few minutes, it +could only be through immediate pursuit. + +Nor did the adventurer waste time debating the better course. With him, +whose ways of life were ceaselessly beset by instant and mortal perils, +each with its especial and imperative demand upon his readiness and +ingenuity, action must ever press so hard upon the heels of thought as to +make the two seem one. + +For that matter, the whole transaction had been characterised by almost +unbelievable rapidity. And that square opening of the window-port was +hardly vacant when Lanyard sprang to his feet; the fugitive had barely time +to find his own upon the outer deck before Lanyard leaped after him; the +first thumps upon the panels of his door were still echoing when he thrust +head and shoulders out of the port and began to pump the automatic at a +shadow fleeing aft upon that narrow breadth of planking between rail and +wall. + +Then, at the third shot, the automatic jammed upon a discharged shell. + +Exasperated, the adventurer cast the weapon from him, shrugged hastily out +of his unfastened coat and waistcoat, hitched tight his belt, and clambered +through the port. + +Dropping to the deck, he turned in time to see the fugitive dart round the +shoulder of the superstructure. + +As Lanyard gained the after rail of the promenade deck a man standing on +the boat-deck at the head of the companion-ladder greeted him with pistol +fire. He dodged back, untouched, and instantaneously devised a stratagem to +cope with this untoward development. + +Overhead, at the side, a lifeboat hung on its davits, ready for emergency +launching, the gap in the rail which it filled when normally swung inboard +spanned only by a length of line. And the darkness in the shadow of the +boat was dense, an excellent screen. + +Climbing upon the rail, Lanyard grasped the edge of the deck overhead and +drew himself up undetected by his quarry, whom he espied still holding +the head of the companion ladder, hidden from the bridge by the after +deck-house, standing ready to shoot Lanyard should he attempt to renew the +pursuit by that approach. + +At the same time, "Karl" seemed mysteriously occupied with some object or +objects in whose manipulation he was hampered to a degree by the necessity +under which he laboured of holding his pistol ready and dividing his +attention. + +A man of good stature, broad at the shoulders, slender at the hips, he +poised himself with athletic grace--the lower part of his face masked by +what Lanyard took to be a dark silk handkerchief. + +Lanyard heard him swearing in German. + +Then a brisk little spray of sparks jetted from the flint and steel of a +patent cigar-lighter in the hands of the spy. And as Lanyard rose from his +knees after ducking beneath the line, a stream of fatter sparks spat from +the end of a fuse. + +The man leaned over the rail and cast a small black object to which the +sputtering fuse was attached, down to the main deck. + +As it struck midway between superstructure and stern it burst into +brilliant flame, releasing upon the night an electric-blue glare that must +have been visible from any point within the compass of the horizon. + +A yell of profane remonstrance saluted the light, and throughout the brief +passage that followed Lanyard was conscious that pistols and rifles on the +after deck below were making him and his antagonist their targets. + +Before the German could face about, Lanyard, moving almost noiselessly in +his bare feet, had covered more than half the intervening space. In another +breath he might have had the fellow at a disadvantage. But the distance +was too great. Twice the automatic blazed in his face as he closed in, the +bullets clearing narrowly--or else he fancied that their deadly cold breath +fanned his cheek. + +Then the spy's weapon in turn went out of action. Half blinded, Lanyard +clipped the man round the body and hugged him tight, exerting all his skill +and strength to effect a throw. + +That effort failed; his onslaught was met with address and ability that +all but matched his own. The animal he embraced had muscles like tempered +springs and the cunning and fury of a wild beast in a trap. For a moment +Lanyard was able to accomplish no more than to smother resistance in a +rib-crushing embrace; no sooner did he relax it than all attempts to shift +his hold were anticipated and met half way, forcing him back upon the +defensive. + +Yet he was given little chance to prove himself the master. The first phase +of the struggle was still in contest when the rear door of the smoking room +opened and a man stepped out, paused, summed up the situation in a glance, +seized Lanyard from behind. + +The adventurer felt his arms grasped by hands whose strength seemed little +short of superhuman, and wrenched back so violently that his very bones +cracked. Fairly lifted from his feet, he was held as helpless as an infant +kicking in the arms of its nurse. + +Released, the other spy stepped back and swung his left fist viciously to +Lanyard's jaw. Something in the brain of the adventurer seemed to let +go; his head dropped weakly to one side. The man who had struck him said +quietly, "Loose the fool, Ed," and followed as Lanyard reeled away, +striking him repeatedly. + +For a giddy moment Lanyard was darkly conscious--as one dreams an evil +dream--of blows raining mercilessly about his head and body, blows that +drove him back athwartships toward a fate dark and terrible, a great void +of blackness. He felt unutterably weary, and was weakened by a sensation of +nausea. Beneath him his knees buckled. There fell one final blow, ruthless +as the wrath of God. + +He was falling backward into nothingness, into an everlasting gulf of night +that yawned for him.... + +As he shot under the guard rope and into space between the edge of the deck +and the keel of the lifeboat, the spy rounded smartly on a heel and darted +to the smoking-room door. His confederate was in the act of stepping across +the raised threshold. He followed, closed the door. + +The first officer, charging aft from the bridge, rounded the deck-house and +pulled up with a grunt of surprise to find the deck completely deserted.... + +The shock of icy immersion reanimated Lanyard. + +He felt himself plunging headlong down, down, and down to inky depths +unguessable. The sheer habit of an accustomed swimmer alone bade him hold +his breath. + +Then came a pause: he was no more descending; for a time of indeterminate +duration, an age of anguish, he seemed to float without motion, suspended +in frigid purgatory. Against his ribs something hammered like a racing +engine. In his ears sounded a vast roaring, the deafening voices of a +thousand waterfalls. His head felt swollen and enormous, on the point of +bursting wide. + +Without warning expelled from those depths, he shot full half-length out of +water, and fell back into the milky welter of the _Assyrian's_ wake. + +Instinctively he kept afloat with feeble strokes. + +The cold was bitter, as sharp as the teeth of death; but his head was now +clear, he was able to appreciate what had befallen him. + +Already the _Assyrian_, forging onward unchecked, had left him well astern, +her progress distinctly disclosed by that infernal bluish glare spouting +from her after deck. + +She seemed absurdly small. Incredulity infected Lanyard's mind. Nothing so +tiny, so insignificant, so make-believe as that silhouette of a ship could +conceivably be that great liner, the _Assyrian_.... + +Temporarily a burning pain in his left shoulder drove all other +considerations out of mind. The salt water was beginning to smart in the +raw, superficial wound made by that assassin's bullet ... back there in the +stateroom ... long ago.... + +Then the cold began to bite into his marrow, and he struggled manfully +to swim, taking long, slow strokes, at first comparatively powerful, by +insensible degrees losing force. + +Just why he took this trouble he did not know: for some dim reason it +seemed desirable to live as long as possible. Withal he was aware he could +not live. Whether careless or utterly ignorant of his fate, the _Assyrian_ +was trudging on and on, leaving him ever farther astern, lost beyond rescue +in that weird, bleak waste. Even were an alarm to be given, were she to +stop now and put out a boat, it would find him, if it found him at all, too +late. + +The cold was killing. + +He felt very sleepy. Drowsily he apprehended the beginning of the end. +His senses, growing numb with cold, presently must cease to function +altogether. Then he would forget, and nothing would matter any more. + +Yet the will to live persisted amazingly. Had Lanyard wished it he could +not have ceased to swim, at least to keep afloat. Vaguely he wondered how +people ever managed to commit suicide by drowning; it seemed to pass human +power to resist that buoyancy which sustained one, to let go, let one's +self go down. Impossible to conceive how that was ever done.... + +Why should he care to go on living? + +No reading that riddle!... + +On obscure impulse he gave up swimming, turned upon his back, floated face +to the sky, derelict, resigning himself to the cradling arms of the sea. +The gradual, slow rocking of the swells soothed his passion like a kindly +opiate. The cold no more irked him, but seemed somehow strangely anodynous. +Imperturbably he envisaged death, without fear, without welcome. What must +be, must.... + +For all that, life clutched at him with jealous hands. More than ever +sleepy, before he slept that last, long sleep he must somehow solve this +enigma, learn the reason why life continued so to allure his failing +senses. + +Athwart the drab texture of consciousness wild fancies played like heat +lightning in a still midsummer night. + +Death's countenance was kind. + +That wide field of stars, drooping low and lifting away with rhythmic +motion, would sometime dip swiftly down to the very sea itself and, +swinging back, take with it his soul to some remote bourne.... + +The deeps were yielding up their mysteries. Past him a huge pale monster +swept at furious pace, hissing grimly as it passed, like some spectral +Nemesis pursuing the _Assyrian_. + +Indifferently he speculated concerning the reality of this phenomenon. + +The heave of a swell enabled him to glance incuriously after the steamship. +She seemed smaller, less genuine than ever, a shadow shape that boasted +visibility solely through that unearthly light on her after deck. Even +that now had waned to a mere glimmer, the flicker of a candle lost in the +immensities of that night-bound world of empty sky and empty ocean. Even as +he that had been named Michael Lanyard was a lost light, a tiny flame that +guttered toward its swift extinction.... + +Why live, when one might die and, dying, find endless rest? + +Like a blazing thunderbolt one word rent the slumbrous web of sentience: +_Ekstrom_! + +Galvanised by the flood of hatred unpent by the syllables of that name, +Lanyard began again to swim, flailing the water with frantic arms as if to +win somewhither by the very violence of his efforts. + +This the one cogent reason why he must not, could not, die.... + +Unjust to require him to give up life while that one lived. Unfair.... It +must not be!... + +Across the sea rolled a dull, brutish detonation. The swimmer, swung high +on the bosom of a great swell, saw a vast sheet of fire raving heavenward +from the _Assyrian_. + +It vanished instantly. + +When his dazzled vision cleared, he could see no more of the ship. He +imagined a faint, wild rumour of panic voices, conjured up scenes of horror +indescribable as that great fabric sank almost instantaneously, as if some +gigantic hand plucked her under. + +What had happened? Had the accomplices of the dead Baron von Harden set off +an infernal machine aboard the vessel? In the name of reason, why? They had +got what they sought, that accursed document, whatever it was, that page +torn from the Book of Doom. Then why...? + +And to what end had they exploded that light bomb on the after deck? + +To make the _Assyrian_ a glaring target in the night--what else? A target +for what?... + +Of a sudden all rational mental processes were erased from Lanyard's +consciousness. A wave of pure fear flooded him, body, mind, and soul. He +began to struggle like a maniac, fighting the waters that hindered his +flight from some hideous thing that was lifting up from the ocean's ooze to +drag him down. + +He heard a voice screaming thinly, and knew it was his own. + +The impossible was happening to him, out there, alone and helpless on the +face of the waters. A shape of horror was rising out of the deep to engorge +him. He could feel distinctly the slow, irresistible heave of its bulk +beneath him. His feet touched and slipped upon its horrible sleek flanks. + +His most desperate efforts were all unavailing. He could not escape. The +thing came up too rapidly. Following that first mad thrill of contact with +it underfoot, he was lifted swiftly and irresistibly into the air. Almost +instantly he was floundering in knee-deep waters that parted, cascading +away on either hand. Then, elevated well above the sea, he slid and fell +prone upon a slimy wet surface. + +His clawing hands clutched something solid and substantial, an upright bar +of metal. + +Incredulously Lanyard pawed the body of the monster beneath him. His hands +passed over a riveted joint of metal plates. Looking up, he made out the +truncated cone of a conning tower with its antennae-like periscope tubes +stencilled black upon the soft purple of the star-strewn sky. + +Slowly the truth came home: a submarine had risen beneath him. He lay upon +its after deck, grasping a stanchion that supported the small raised bridge +round the conning tower. + +He sobbed a little in sheer hysteric gratitude, that this miracle had been +vouchsafed unto him, that he had thus been spared to live on against his +hour with Ekstrom. + +But when he sought to drag himself up to the bridge, he could not, he +was too weak and faint. Ceasing to struggle, he rested in half stupour, +panting. + +With a harsh clang a hatch was thrown back. Rousing, Lanyard saw several +figures emerge from the conning tower. Men uncouthly clothed in shapeless, +shiny leather garments, straddled and stretched above him, filling their +lungs with the sweet air. He tried to call to them, but evoked a mere +rattle from his throat. + +Two came to the edge of the bridge and stood immediately over him, fixing +binoculars to their eyes, their voices quite audible. + +A pang of despair shot through Lanyard when he heard them conferring +together in the German tongue. + +Death, then, was but a little delayed. + +Thereafter he lay in dumb apathy, save that he shivered and his teeth +chattered uncontrollably. + +Through the torpor that rested like a black cloud upon his senses he caught +broken phrases, snatches of sentences: + +"... _sinking fast ... struck square amidships ... broke her back_...." + +"... _trouble with her boats. There goes one over_!..." + +"... _fools jumping overboard like cattle_...." + +"_What's that rocket? Do the swine want us to shell their boats_?" + +"_Why not? They're asking for it_!" + +One of the officers lowered his glasses and barked a series of sharp +commands. The crew on deck leaped to attention. One leaned over the +conning-tower hatch and shouted to his mates below. A hatch forward of +the tower opened, and a quick-firing gun on a disappearing carriage swung +smoothly and silently up from its lair. + +The other officer, looking down, started violently. + +"_Verdammt_! What's this?" + +The first rejoined him. "Impossible!" + +"Impossible or not--a man or a cadaver!" + +"Have him up and see...." + +By order, two of the crew dragged Lanyard up to the bridge, supporting him +by main strength while the officers examined him. + +"At the last gasp, but alive," one announced. + +"How the devil did he get out here?" + +"From the _Assyrian_--" + +"Impossible for any man to swim this far since our torpedo struck--" + +"Then he must have gone overboard before it struck--or was thrown--" + +A cry of alarm from the group about the gun, awaiting final orders to open +fire upon the _Assyrian's_ boats, interrupted the conference. The officers +swung away in haste. + +"Hell's fury! what's that searchlight?" + +"A Yankee destroyer--in all probability the one we dodged yesterday +afternoon." + +"She'll find us yet if we don't submerge. Forward, there--house that gun! +And get below--quickly!" + +During a moment of apparent confusion, one of the men sustaining Lanyard +caught the attention of an officer. + +"What shall we do with this fellow, sir?" he enquired. + +"Leave him here to sink or swim as we go down," snapped the officer--"and +be damned to him!" + +With a supreme effort the adventurer sank his fingers deep into the arms of +the two men. + +"Wait!" he gasped faintly in German. "On the Emperor's service--" + +"What's that?" The officer turned back sharply. + +"Imperial Secret Service," Lanyard faltered--"Personal +Division--Wilhelmstrasse Number 27--" + +A brilliant glare settled suddenly upon the deck of the submarine, and was +welcomed by a panicky gust of oaths. One officer had already popped through +the conning-tower hatch, followed by several of the crew. There remained +only those supporting Lanyard, and the second officer. + +"Take him below!" the latter ordered. "He may be telling the truth. If +not...." + +In the distance a gun boomed. A shell shrieked over the submarine and +dropped into the sea not a hundred yards to starboard. The men rushed +Lanyard toward the conning tower. He tried feebly to help them. In that +effort consciousness was altogether blotted out.... + + + + +IX + +SUB SEA + + +When he opened his eyes again he was resting, after a fashion, naked +between harsh, damp blankets in a narrow, low-ceiled bunk inches too short +for one of his stature. + +After an experimental squirm or two he lay very still; his back and all his +limbs were stiff and sore, his bullet-seared shoulder burned intolerably +beneath a rudely applied first-aid dressing, and he was breathing heavily +long, labouring inhalations of an atmosphere sickeningly dank, close, and +foul with unspeakable stenches, for which the fumes of sulphuric acid with +a rank reek of petroleum and lubricating oils formed but a modest and +retiring background. + +Also his head felt very thick and dull. He found it extremely difficult to +think, and for some time, indeed, was quite unable to think to any purpose. + +His very eyes ached in their sockets. + +In the ceiling glowed an electric bulb, dimly illuminating a cubicle barely +big enough to accommodate the bunk, a dresser, and a small desk with a +folding seat. The inner wall was a slightly concave surface of steel plates +whose seams oozed moisture. In the opposite wall was a sliding door, open, +beyond which ran a narrow alleyway floored with metal grating. Everything +in sight was enamelled with white paint and clammy with the sweat of that +foetid air. + +Over all an unnatural hush brooded, now and again accentuated by a rumble +of distant voices and gusts of vacant laughter, once or twice by a curious +popping. For a long time he heard nothing else whatever. The effect was +singularly disquieting and did its bit to quicken torpid senses to grasp +his plight. + +Sluggishly enough Lanyard pieced together fragments of lurid memories, +reconstructing the sequence of last night's events scene by scene to the +moment of his rescue by the U-boat. + +So, it appeared, he was aboard a German submersible, virtually a prisoner, +though posing as an agent of the Personal Intelligence Department of the +German Secret Service. + +To that inspiration of failing consciousness he owed his life, or such +of its span as now remained to him, a term whose duration could only be +defined by his ability to carry off the imposture pending problematic +opportunity to escape. And, assuming that this last were ever offered him, +there was no present possibility of guessing how long it might not be +deferred. + +Its butcher's mission successfully accomplished, the U-boat was not +improbably even now en route for Heligoland, beginning a transatlantic +cruise of weeks that might never end save in a nameless grave at the bottom +of the Four Seas. + +Only the matter of impersonation failed to embarrass in prospect. A natural +linguist, Lanyard's three years within the German lines had put a rare +finish upon his mastery of German. More than this, he was well versed in +the workings of the Prussian spy system. As Dr. Paul Rodiek, Wilhelmstrasse +Agent Number 27, he was safe as long as he found no acquaintance of that +gentleman in the complement of the submarine; for, largely upon information +furnished by Lanyard himself, Dr. Rodiek had been secretly apprehended +and executed in the Tower the day before Lanyard left London to join the +_Assyrian_. + +But the question of the U-boat's present whereabouts and its movements +in the immediate future disturbed the adventurer profoundly. He was +elaborately incurious about Heligoland; and several weeks' association +with the Boche in the close quarters of a submarine was a prospect that +revolted. Wellnigh any fate were preferable.... + +Uncertain footsteps sounded in the alleyway, paused at the entrance to his +cubicle. He turned his head wearily on the pillow. In the doorway stood +a man whose slenderly elegant carriage of a Prussian officer was not +disguised even by his shapeless wreck of a naval lieutenant's uniform, a +man with a countenance of singularly unpleasant cast, leaving out of all +consideration the grease and grime that discoloured it. His narrow forehead +slanted back just a trace too sharply, his nose was thin and overlong, his +mouth thin and cruel beneath its ambitious mustache a la Kaiser; his small +black eyes, set much too close together, blazed with unholy exhilaration. + +As soon as he spoke Lanyard understood that he was drunk, drunk with more +than the champagne of which he presently boasted. + +"Awake, eh?" he greeted Lanyard with a mirthless snarl. "You've slept like +the dead man I took you for at first, my friend--a solid fourteen hours, my +word for it! Feeling better now?" + +Lanyard's essays to reply began and ended in a croak for water. The +Prussian nodded, disappeared, returned with an aluminium cup of stale cold +water mixed with a little brandy. + +"Champagne if you like," he offered, as Lanyard, painfully propping himself +up on an elbow, gulped like an animal from the vessel held to his lips. "We +are holding a little celebration, you know." + +Lanyard dropped back to the pillow, the question in his eyes. + +"Celebrating our success," the Prussian responded. "We got her, and that +means much honour and a long furlough to boot, when we get home, just as +failure would have spelled--I don't like to think what. I shouldn't care to +fill the shoes of those poor devils who let the _Assyrian_ escape them off +Ireland, I can tell you." + +Something very much like true fear flickered in his small eyes as he +pondered the punishment meted out to those who failed. + +So the U-boat was homeward bound! Strange one noticed no motion of her +progress, heard no noise of machinery. + +"Where are we?" Lanyard whispered. + +"Peacefully asleep on the bottom, about five miles south of Martha's +Vineyard, waiting till it is dark enough to slip in to our base." + +"Base?" + +The Prussian hiccoughed and giggled. "On the south shore of the Vineyard," +he confided with alcoholic glee: "snuggest little haven heart could wish, +well to the north of all deep-sea traffic; and the coastwise trade runs +still farther north, through Vineyard Sound, other side the island. Not +a soul ever comes that way, not a soul suspects. How should they? +The admirable charts of the Yankee Coast and Geodetic Survey"--he +sneered--"show no break in the south beach of the island, between the ocean +and the ponds. But there is one. The sea made the breach during a gale, our +people helped with a little Trotyl, tides and storms did the rest. Now we +can enter a secluded, landlocked harbour with just enough water at low +tide, and lie hidden there till the word comes to move again--three miles +of dense scrub forest, all privately owned as a game preserve, fenced and +patrolled, between us and the nearest cultivated land--and friends in +plenty on the island to keep all our needs supplied--petroleum, fresh +vegetables, champagne, all that. Just the same we take no chances--never +make our landfall by day, never enter or leave harbour except at night." + +He paused, contemplating Lanyard owlishly. "Ought not to tell you all +this, I presume," he continued, more soberly, though the wild light still +flickered ominously in his eyes. "But it is safe enough; you will see for +yourself in a few hours; and then ... either you are all right, or you will +never live to tell of it. We radio'd for information about Wilhelmstrasse +Number 27 just before dawn, after we had dodged that damned Yankee +destroyer. Ought to get an answer to-night, when we come up." + +Heavier footsteps rang in the alleyway. The Prussian made a grimace of +dislike. + +"Here comes the commander," he cautioned uneasily. + +A great blond Viking of a German in the uniform of a captain shouldered +heavily through the doorway and, acknowledging the salute of the rat-faced +subaltern with a bare nod, stood looking down at Lanyard in taciturn +silence, hostility in his blood-shot blue eyes. + +"How long since he wakened?" he asked thickly, with the accent of a +Bavarian. + +"A minute or two ago." + +"Why did you not inform me?" + +The tone was offensively domineering, thanks like enough to drink, nerves, +and hatred of his job and all things and persons pertaining to it. + +The subaltern coloured. "He asked for water--I got it for him." + +The commander stared churlishly, then addressed Lanyard: "How are you now?" + +"Very faint," Lanyard said truthfully. But he would have lied had it been +otherwise with him. It was his book to make time in which to collect his +thoughts, concoct a bullet-proof story, plan against an adverse answer to +that wireless enquiry. + +"Can you eat, drink a little champagne?" + +Lanyard nodded slightly, adding a feeble "Please." + +The Bavarian glanced significantly at his subaltern, who hastened to leave +them. + +"Who are you? What is your name?" + +"Dr. Paul Rodiek." + +"Your employment?" + +"Personal Intelligence Bureau--confidential agent." + +"What were you doing on board the _Assyrian_?" + +Lanyard mustered enough strength to look the man squarely in the eye. + +"Pardon," he said coldly. "You must know your question is indiscreet." + +"I must know more about you." + +"It should be enough," Lanyard ventured boldly, "to know that I set off +that flare as arranged, at risk of my life." + +"How came you overboard?" + +"In the scuffle caused by my lighting the flare." + +"So you tell me. But we found you half clothed, lacking any sort of +identification. Am I to accept your unsupported word?" + +"My papers are naturally at the bottom of the sea, in the garments I +discarded lest their weight drag me down. If you have doubts," Lanyard +continued firmly, "it is your privilege to settle them by communicating via +radio with Seventy-ninth Street." + +He shut his eyes wearily and turned his head aside on the pillow, confident +that this reference to the headquarters and secret wireless station of the +Prussian spy system in New York would win him peace for a time at least. + +After a moment the commander uttered a non-committal grunt. "We shall see," +he prophesied darkly, and went away. + +Later, one of the crew brought Lanyard a dish of greasy stew and potatoes, +lukewarm, with bread and a half-bottle of excellent champagne. + +He ate all he could stomach of the first, devoured the second ravenously, +and drained the bottle of its ultimate life-giving drop. + +Then, immeasurably refreshed and fortified in body and spirit, he turned +face to the wall, composed himself as if to sleep, shut his eyes, adjusted +the tempo of his respiration, and lay quite still, wide awake and thinking +hard. + +After a while somebody tramped into the cubicle, bent over Lanyard +inquisitively and, satisfied that he slept, retired, taking away the empty +bottle and dishes. + +Otherwise his meditations were disturbed only by those echoes of revelry +in honour of the late manifestation of the Hun's divine right to do wanton +murder on the high seas. + +The rumour waxed and waned, died into dull mutterings, broke out afresh in +spurts of merriment that held an hysterical note. Once a quarrel sprang up +and was silenced by the commander's deep, unpleasant tones. Corks popped +spasmodically. Again there were sounds much like a man's sobbing; but these +were promptly blared down by a phonograph with a typically American accent. +When that palled, a sentimental disciple of frightfulness sang Tannenbaum +in a melting tenor. + +Everything tended to effect an impression that all, commander and meanest +mechanic alike, were making forlorn efforts to forget. + +Devoutly Lanyard prayed they might be successful, at least until the +submarine made her secret base. If too much alcohol was bad, too much +brooding was infinitely worse for the German temperament. He remembered +one U-boat commander who, returning to the home port after a conspicuously +successful cruise, had been taken ashore in a strait-jacket. + +Lanyard himself did not care to dwell upon those scenes which must have +been enacted on board the _Assyrian_ after the torpedo struck.... + +Deliberately ignoring all else, he set himself the task of reviewing those +events which had led up to his going overboard. + +One by one he considered the incidents of that night, painstakingly +dissected them, examined their every phase in minute analysis, weighing for +ulterior meaning every word uttered in his presence, harking even farther +back to reconstruct his acquaintance with each actor from the very moment +of its inception, seeking that hint which he was convinced must be +somewhere hidden in the history of the affair, waiting only recognition to +lead straightway out of this gloomy maze of mystery into a sunlit open of +understanding. + +In vain: there was an ambiguity in that business to baffle the keenest and +most pertinacious investigation. + +The conduct of Cecelia Brooke alone bristled with inconsistencies +inexplicable, the conduct of the German spies no less. + +To get better perspective upon the problem, he reduced the premises to +their barest summary: + +A valuable dossier brought on board the _Assyrian_ (no matter by whom) had +come into the possession of British agents, with the knowledge of Captain +Osborne. Thackeray had secreted it in that fraudulent bandage. German +agents, apparently under the leadership of Baron von Harden, had waylaid +him, knocked him senseless, unwrapped the bandage, but somehow (probably +in the first instance through the interference of the Brooke girl) had +overlooked the document. Subsequently the Brooke girl had found and +entrusted it to Lanyard. (No matter why!) He on his part had exerted his +utmost inventiveness in hiding it away. Nevertheless it had been discovered +and abstracted within an hour. + +By whom? + +Not improbably by the Brooke girl herself. Repenting her impulsiveness, +after leaving Lanyard with the captain, from whom she had doubtless learned +the truth about "Monsieur Duchemin," she might well have gone directly to +Lanyard's stateroom and hit upon the morphia phial as the likeliest hiding +place without delay, thanks to prior acquaintance with the proportions of +the paper cylinder. + +But why should she have assumed that Lanyard had not disposed of the trust +about his person? + +Not impossibly the thing had been found by the first officer of the +_Assyrian_, searching by order of the captain--as Lanyard assumed he had. + +But, if Mr. Warde had found it, he had not reported his find when +telephoning to Captain Osborne; or else the latter had gone to great +lengths to mystify Lanyard. + +There remained the chance that the paper had been stolen by one of the two +German agents--by either without the knowledge of the other. + +If Baron von Harden had found it--necessarily before Lanyard returned +to the room--he had subsequently been at elaborate pains to conceal his +success from both his victim and his confederate. Why? Did he distrust the +latter? Again, why? + +If "Karl" had been the thief, it must have been after Lanyard's return, +and while the Baron was preoccupied with the task of keeping the prisoner +quiet, to let the search proceed. + +In that event "Karl" had lied deliberately to his superior. Why? Because +the document was salable, and "Karl" intended to realize its value for his +personal benefit? + +Not an unlikely explanation. Nor could this be called the first instance in +which the Prussian spy system, admirably organized though it was, had been +betrayed by one of its own agents. + +This hypothesis, too, accounted for that most perplexing circumstance of +all, the murder of Baron von Harden. For Lanyard was fully persuaded that +had been nothing less than premeditated murder, in no way an accident of +faulty aim. Even the most nervous and unstrung man could hardly have missed +six shots out of seven, point blank. A nervous man, indeed, could hardly +have gained his own consent to take so hideous a chance of injuring or +killing a collaborator. + +It appeared, then, that one of four things had happened to the cylinder of +paper: + +Miss Brooke had taken it back into her own care. In which case Lanyard was +no more concerned. + +Captain Osborne had secured it through Mr. Warde. This, however, Lanyard +did not seriously credit. + +It had gone to the bottom when the _Assyrian_ sank with the body--among +others--of Baron von Harden. + +Or "Karl" had stolen it. + +Privately, indeed, Lanyard rather inclined to hope that the last might +prove to be the true solution. He desired earnestly to meet "Karl" once +more, on equal terms. And the more counts in the score, the greater his +satisfaction in exacting a reckoning in full. + +But he anticipated. That chapter might only too possibly have been closed +forever by the hand of Death. As yet he knew nothing concerning the +mortality of the _Assyrian_ debacle. He had not enquired of the officers of +the U-boat because they knew little if anything more than he. Their glasses +had discovered to them trouble with the lifeboats; they had spoken of one +boat capsizing, of "people going overboard like cattle." There must have +been many drownings, even with a United States destroyer near by and +speeding to the rescue. + +A single question troubled Lanyard greatly. Officers and crew of the U-boat +had betrayed profoundest consternation upon the advent of that destroyer, +presumably a warship of a neutral nation. And that same ship had without +hesitation fired upon the submarine. + +Was it possible, then, that the United States had already declared war on +Germany? + +It seemed extremely probable; in such event these Germans would have been +notified instantly by wireless from the New York bureau of their country's +Secret Service; whereas, Captain Osborne, receiving the same advice by +wireless, might reasonably have kept it quiet lest the news stir to more +formidable activity those agents of the Wilhelmstrasse whose presence among +the passengers he must at least have strongly suspected. + +Presently the closeness of the atmosphere began to work upon Lanyard's +perceptions. In spite of his long rest, a new drowsiness drugged his +senses. He yielded without struggle, knowing he would soon need every ounce +of strength and vitality that sleep could give him.... + +The din of an inferno startled him awake. Those narrow metal walls were +echoing a clangour of machinery maniacal in character and overpowering in +volume. Clankings, tappings, hissings, coughings, clatterings, stridulation +of a wireless spark, drone of dynamos, shrewdish scolding of Diesel motors +developing two thousand horsepower, individual efforts of some two thousand +valves, combined--or, declined to combine--in a cacophony like nothing +under the sun but the chant of a submersible under way on the surface. + +Lanyard, gratefully aware of a current of fresh air sweeping through the +hold, rolled out of his bunk to find that, while he slept, clothing had +been provided for him, rough but adequate; heavy woollen underwear and +socks, a sweater, a dungaree coat, trousers of the same stuff, all vilely +damp, and a friendless pair of oil-sodden shoes: the sweepings of a dozen +lockers, but as welcome as disreputable. + +Dressed, he turned aft through the alleyway, entering immediately the +central operating room and storm center of that typhoon of noise, a +wilderness of polished machinery in active being. + +Of the score or more leather-clad machinists silent at their posts, none +paid him more heed than a passing, incurious glance as he crossed to a +narrow steel companion ladder and ascended to the conning tower. This he +found deserted; but its deck-hatch was open. He climbed out to the bridge. + +The night was calm and heavily overcast, with no sea more than long, slow +swells. Through its windless quiet the U-boat racketed with the raving +abandon of the Spirit of Discord on a spree in a boiler factory. To the +riot of its internal strife was added the remonstrance of waters sliced by +the stem and flung back by the sides, a prolonged and stertorous hiss like +the rending of an endless sheet of canvas. + +To eyes new from the electric illumination of the hold, the blackness was +positive, with the palpable quality of an element, relieved alone by the +dull glow of the binnacle housing the gyroscope telltale, from which the +faintest of golden reflections struck back to pick out a pair of seemingly +severed fists gripping the handles of the bridge steering wheel with a +singular effect of desperation. + +For some moments Lanyard could see nothing more. + +The mirthless chuckle of the lieutenant sounded at his elbow. + +"So the good Herr Doctor thought he had better come up for air, eh? My +friend, the very dead might envy you the sincerity of your slumbers. We +have been half an hour on the surface, with all this uproar--and you are +only just wakened!" + +"Half an hour?" Lanyard repeated thoughtfully. "Then we should be close +in...." + +"Give us ten minutes more ... if we don't go aground in this accursed +blackness!" + +A broad-shouldered body passed between Lanyard and the binnacle, +momentarily eclipsing its light. Down below in the operating room a bell +shrilled, and of a sudden the Diesels were silenced. + +The dead quiet that followed the sharp extinction of that hubbub was as +startling as the detonation of high explosive had been. + +Through this sudden stillness the submarine slipped stealthily, the hissing +beneath her bows dying down to gentle sibilance. + +From forward the calls of an invisible leadsman were audible. In response +the commander uttered throaty orders to the helmsman at his elbow, and +those unattached hands shifted the wheel minutely. + +Lanyard started to speak, but a growl from the captain, and a touch of the +lieutenant's hand on his sleeve cautioned him to silence. + +There was a small pause. The vessel seemed to have lost way altogether, to +swim like a spirit ship that Stygian tide. The lieutenant moved forward, +leaving Lanyard alone. The voice of the leadsman was stilled. By the wheel +the captain stood absolutely motionless, his body vaguely silhouetted +against the glow of the binnacle. The hands that gripped the wheel so +savagely were as steady as if carven out of stone. An atmosphere of +suspense enveloped the boat like a cloud. + +Lanyard grew conscious of something huge and formidable, a denser shadow in +the darkness beyond the bows, the loom of land. Off to starboard a point +of light appeared abruptly, precisely as if a golden pin had punctured the +black blanket of the night. The captain growled gutturals of relief and +command. The hands on the wheel shifted, steering exceeding small. A second +light shone out to port, then shifted slowly into range with the first, +till the two were as one. Again the bell sang in the operating room, and +the vessel forged ahead quietly to the urge of electric motors alone. A +third light and a fourth appeared, well apart to port and starboard, the +range lights precisely equidistant between them. Between these the U-boat +moved swiftly. They swam back on either hand and were abruptly extinguished +as if the night, resenting their insolent trespass, had gobbled both at a +gulp. + +The temperature became sensibly warmer and the salt air of the sea was +strongly tinctured with the sweet smell of pines and forest mould. + +Up forward carbons sputtered and spat; a searchlight was unsheathed and +carved the gloom as if it was butter, ranging swiftly over the tree-clad +shore of a burnished black lagoon, picking out en passant several unpainted +wooden structures, then steadying on a long and substantial landing stage, +on which several men stood waiting. + + + + +X + +AT BASE + + +As the U-boat, with motors dead and way lessening, glided up alongside +the head of that T-shaped landing stage and was made fast, the wireless +operator popped up from below, saluted the commander, and delivered a +written message. + +Lanyard, instinctively aware that this was the expected report from +Seventy-ninth Street on Dr. Paul Rodiek, quietly pulled himself together +and took quick observations. + +At best his chances in the all-too-probable emergency were far from +brilliant. Yet one might better perish trying, however hopelessly, than +passively submit to being shot down. + +The lieutenant, waspishly superintending the work of crew and base guards +at the mooring lines, stood preoccupied within an arm's length; while the +landing stage was a fair six feet away. From its T-head to the shore, the +distance was nothing less than two hundred yards. + +Desperate action and miraculous luck might take the Prussian by surprise +and enable one to snatch the service automatic from its holster at his +belt, leap to the stage, and shoot a way landward through the guards +clustered there; after which everything would depend on swiftness of foot +and the uncertain light permitting one to gain a refuge in the surrounding +woodland without a bullet in one's back. + +It was a sorry hope.... + +With catlike attention Lanyard watched the hands holding that paper to the +binnacle light--large hands, heavy and muscular but tremulous with drink +and nervous reaction from the long strain and cumulative horror of the +cruise then ending. Their aim would not be good, except by accident. None +the less, if the report were unfavourable, their first gesture would be +toward the holster, signalling to Lanyard that the moment had come to +initiate heroic measures. + +The Bavarian was an unconscionable time absorbing the import of the +message. Bending his face close to the paper, the better to make out the +writing, he read with moving lips, slowly, a doltish frown of concentration +clouding his congested countenance. + +At length, however, he stood up, swaying a little as he folded and pocketed +the paper. + +Lanyard relaxed. The man was too far gone in drink to be crafty, too sure +of his absolute power of life and death to imagine a need for craft. Since +his hand had not immediately sought the holster, it would not. + +Turbid accents uttered the name of Dr. Rodiek. + +Lanyard stepped forward alertly. "Yes, Herr Captain?" + +"New York says it had no knowledge of your intention to leave England on +the _Assyrian_, but that you may well have done so. The Wilhelmstrasse will +know, of course. It has already been telegraphed. Pending its reply, I am +to detain you." + +"How long?" Lanyard demurred. + +"As you know, transatlantic communications must now go by land telegraph to +the Border, by hand into Mexico, thence by radio via Venezuela to Berlin. +All that takes time. Also, we may not signal New York but at stated times +of night. You will be detained another twenty-four hours at least, possibly +longer." + +"My errand cannot wait." + +"It must." + +"You will obstruct the business of the Imperial Government at your peril." + +"I would incur still greater peril did I let you go," the commander replied +nervously. "With these swine-dogs at war with the Fatherland, our lives are +not worth _that_ should this base be betrayed." + +"Do I understand America has declared war?" + +"Two days since. Did you not know?" + +"The _Assyrian's_ wireless room was under guard: the captain published no +bulletins whatever." + +The Bavarian gave a gesture of impatience. + +"You will remain on board for the night," he announced heavily. + +"Pardon!" Lanyard insisted with every evidence of anxious excitement. +"What you tell me makes it more than ever imperative that I reach New York +without an hour's avoidable delay. I warn you, think well before you hinder +the discharge of my duty." + +"It is not necessary that I think," the commander replied. "My thinking has +all been done for me. Me, I obey my orders; it is not my part to question +their wisdom. Moreover, Herr Doctor, to my mind your insistence is to say +the least suspicious. Even had I discretion in the matter, I should hold +you. Therefore, you will keep a civil tongue in your head, or go below in +irons immediately!" + +He swung on his heel, showing an insolent back while he conferred with his +subaltern. + +And Lanyard shrugged appreciation of the futility of more contention +against such mulishness. Not that the Bavarian was not right enough! As to +that, one had really hoped for no better issue; but every shift is worth +trial till proved worthless; and he was no worse off now than if he had +submitted without complaint. Still one had Chance to look to for aid and +comfort in this stress; and Chance, the jade, is not always unkind to her +audacious suitors. + +Even now she flashed upon Lanyard a provoking intimation of her smile. +He began to divine possibilities in this overt ill-feeling between the +officers; advantage might be made of the racial hostility of Prussian and +Bavarian. + +The commander's attitude and tone were consistently overbearing, if his +words were inaudible to Lanyard. The lieutenant quite evidently submitted +only in form; his salute was punctiliously correct and curt; and as the +commander lumbered off down the landing stage, he grumbled indistinctly in +Lanyard's hearing: + +"Dog of a Bavarian!" + +"The good Herr Captain," Lanyard suggested pleasantly, "is not in the most +agreeable of tempers, yes?" + +The high and well-born lieutenant spat comprehensively into the darkness +overside. After a moment of hesitation he moved nearer and spoke in +confidential accents. And the fragrant air of the night was tainted with +the vinous effluvium of his breath. + +"Always he prattles of his precious duty!" the Prussian muttered. "Damn his +duty! Look you, Herr Doctor: months we have been on this cruise, yes, more +than three months out of Heligoland, penned together in this ramshackle +stinkpot, or isolated here in this God-forgotten hole, seeing nothing of +life, hearing nothing of the world but what little the radio tells +us--sick of the very sight of one another's faces! And now, when we have +accomplished a glorious feat and have every right to look for prompt recall +and the rewards of heroes, orders come to remain indefinitely and operate +against the North Atlantic fleet of the contemptible Yankee navy! The life +of a dog! And that noble commander of mine pretends to welcome it, talks +of one's duty to the Fatherland--as if he liked the work any better than +I!--solely to spite me!" + +"But why?" + +"Because he hates me," the lieutenant snarled passionately--"hates me even +as I hate him--he knows how well!" + +He interrupted himself to define his conception of the commander's +character in the freest vernacular of the Berlin underworld. + +Lanyard laughed amiably. "They are like that," he agreed--"those +Bavarians!" + +Which inspired the Prussian to deliver a phosphorescent diatribe on the +racial traits of the Bavarian people as comprehended by the North German +junker. + +"To be cooped up God knows how long in this putrescent death-trap with such +cattle," he concluded mutinously--"it passes all endurance!" + +"I wonder you stand it," Lanyard sympathised--"a man of spirit and good +birth, as one readily perceives. Though the life of a secret agent is not +altogether heavenly either, if you ask me," he added gratuitously. "Regard +me now, charged with a mission of most vital moment--more than ever so +since the Yankees have shown their teeth--delayed here indefinitely because +your excellent Herr Captain chooses to doubt my word." + +"Patience. Maybe your release comes quickly. Then he will regret--or would +had he wit enough. There is no cure for a fool." The sententiousness of +this aphorism was unhappily marred by a hiccough. "Anybody with eyes in his +head could see you are what you are...." + +The last of the operating-room crew piled up the hatchway, saluted, and +hurried ashore to join in noisy jubilations. There remained on the U-boat +only the lieutenant with Lanyard, and two base guards detailed as anchor +watch. + +"I must go," the lieutenant volunteered. "And believe me, one welcomes a +change of clothing and a dry bed after a week in this reeking sieve. As for +you, my friend, if it lay with me, you should receive the treatment due +a gentleman." A wave of maudlin camaraderie affected him. He passed an +affectionate arm through Lanyard's and was suffered, though the gorge of +the adventurer revolted at the familiarity. "I am sorry to leave you. No, +do not be astonished! No protestations, please! It is quite true. I know a +man of the right sort when I meet one, the sort even I can associate with +without loss of self-respect. It is a great pity you may not come with me +and make a night of it." + +"Another time, perhaps," Lanyard said. "The night may yet come when you and +I shall meet at the Metropole or the Admiral's Palace.... Who knows?" + +"Ah!" sighed the Prussian, enchanted. "What a night that will be, my +friend!... But now, it is too bad, I really must ask you to step below. +Such are my silly orders. I am made responsible for you. What do you think +of that for a joke, eh?" + +He laughed vacantly but loudly, and, attempting to poke a derisive thumb +into Lanyard's ribs, lost his balance. + +"What a responsibility!" said Lanyard gravely, holding him up. + +"Nonsense, that's what it is. You have no possible chance to escape." + +"Suppose I make one--tip you overboard, take to my heels--?" + +"You would be shot like a rabbit before you got half way to the shore." + +"Ah, but grant, for the sake of argument, that these brave fellows, the +guards, aim poorly in this gloom?" + +"Where would you go? Into the forest, naturally. But how far? You may +believe me when I tell you, not a hundred yards. It's a true wilderness, +scrub-oak and cedar and second growth choked with underbrush, almost +trackless. In five minutes you would be helplessly lost, in this blackness, +with no stars to steer by. We need only wait till daylight to find you +walking in a circle." + +"You can't mean," Lanyard pursued, learning something helpful every moment, +"there is no communicating road?" + +"The main woods road, yes: but that is far too well patrolled. Without the +countersign, you would be caught or shot a dozen times before you reached +the end of it." + +"Ah, well!"--with the sigh of a philosopher--"then I presume there's no way +out but by swimming." + +"Over to the beach you mean? Well, what then? You have got a twenty-mile +walk either way through deep sand sure to betray your footprints. At dawn +we follow and bag you at our leisure." + +"You are discouraging!" Lanyard complained. "I see I may as well go below +and be good. It's a dull life." + +"Tell you what," giggled the lieutenant, leading his prisoner to the +conning-tower hatch and lowering his voice: "do just that, go below and be +nice, and presently I will come back and we'll split a bottle. What do you +say to that, eh?" + +"Colossal!" + +"Not a bad notion, is it? I like it myself. One gets weary for the society +of a gentleman, you've no idea.... As soon as my commander is drunk enough, +I will slip away. How's that?" + +"Grossartig!" Lanyard approved, turning to descend. + +"Wait. You shall see for yourself what it means to have the friendship of +a man of my stamp." The lieutenant raised his voice, addressing the anchor +watch: "Attention. Heed with care: this gentleman is my friend. He is +detained merely as a matter of form. I do not wish him to be annoyed. Do +you understand? You are to leave him to himself as long as he remains +quietly below. But he is not to come on deck again till I return. Is all +that clear, imbeciles?" + +The imbeciles, saluting mechanically, indicated glimmerings of +comprehension. + +"Then below you go, Dr. Rodiek. And don't get impatient: I will rejoin you +as soon as possible." + +"Don't be long," Lanyard implored. + +As he lowered himself through the hatch he saw the Prussian stumble down +the gangplank and reel shoreward. + +Well satisfied with his diplomacy, Lanyard lingered a while in the conning +tower, closely studying and memorising the more salient features of the +Island of Martha's Vineyard and its adjacent waters and mainland as +delineated on a most comprehensive large-scale chart published by the +German Admiralty from exhaustive soundings and surveys of its own +navigators and typographers, with corrections of as recent date as the +first part of the year 1917. + +Here the breach in the south coast line which permitted the utilisation +of what had formerly been an extensive fresh-water pond as this secret +submarine base, was clearly shown. And a single glance confirmed the +lieutenant's statement concerning its remote isolation from settled +sections of the island. + +Somewhat dismayed, Lanyard descended to the central operating compartment +and scouted through the hold from bow bulkhead to stern, making certain he +enjoyed undisputed privacy. And it was so; every man-jack of the U-boat's +personnel--jaded to the marrow with its cramped accommodations, unremitting +toil and care, unsanitary smells and forbidding associations--having +naturally seized the earliest opportunity to escape so loathsome a prison. + +Lanyard, however, was anything but resentful of condemnation to this +solitary confinement. His interest in the interior arrangements of +submersibles seemed all but feverish, as intense as sudden; witness the +minute attention to detail which marked his second tour of inspection. On +this round he took his time. He had all night in which to work out his +salvation; the wildest schemes were revolving in his mind, the least +fantastic utterly impracticable without accurate knowledge of many matters; +and such knowledge might be gained only through patient investigation and +ungrudging expenditure of time. + +It was now something past ten by the chronometers. He could hardly do much +before dawn, lacking the instinct of a red Indian to guide him through +that night-bound waste of woodland. So he felt little need to slight his +researches through haste, except in anticipation of his lieutenant's +return. And as to that, Lanyard was moderately incredulous: he expected to +see nothing more of this new-found friend, unless the infatuation of the +Prussian proved far stronger than his head. + +Turning first to the private quarters of the commander, a somewhat more +commodious cubicle than that across the alleyway in which Lanyard had been +berthed, his interest was attracted by a small safe anchored to the deck +beneath the desk. + +To this Lanyard addressed himself without hesitation, solving the secret +of its combination readily through exercise of the most rudimentary of +professional principles. The problem it offered, indeed, was child's play +to such cunning of touch and hearing as had made the reputation of the Lone +Wolf. + +Open, the safe discovered to him a variety of articles of interest: +some five thousand dollars in English and American banknotes of large +denomination, several hundred in American gold; three distinct cipher +codes, one of these wholly novel in Lanyard's experience and so, he +believed, in the knowledge of the Allied secret services; the log of the +U-boat and the intimate diary of its commander, both in cryptograph; a +compact directory of German agents domiciled in Atlantic coast ports; a +very considerable accumulation of German Admiralty orders; together with +many documents of lesser moment. + +Rapidly sorting out the more valuable of these, Lanyard disposed them about +his person, then confiscated the banknotes as indemnity for his stolen +money-belt, replaced the rejections, and reclosed and locked the safe. + +His next interest was to arm himself. After several disappointments he +discovered arms-lockers beneath the berths for the crew in the forward +compartment just aft of that devoted to torpedo tubes. Here he selected +a latest pattern German navy automatic pistol with three extra cartridge +clips and, after some hesitation, a peculiarly devilish magazine rifle +firing explosive bullets. The latter he placed handily, yet out of sight, +near the foot of the companion ladder. The pistol fitted snugly a trousers +pocket, its bulk hidden by the sag of his sweater.... + +Some time later the lieutenant, slipping down the ladder, found Lanyard +studying with a convincing aspect of childlike bewilderment the complicated +combinations of machinery which crowded the central operating compartment. + +Fresh from a bath and shave and wearing a clean uniform, the Prussian +showed vast improvement in looks if not in equilibrium. But his mouth +twitched fitfully, his eyes wandered and disclosed a disquieting +superabundance of white, and his tongue was noticeably thicker than before. + +"Well, my friend!" he said--"you are truly disappointing. The watch said +you had made no sound since going below. I was afraid of another of those +famous naps of yours." + +"With the prospect of a bottle with you? Impossible! I have been waiting +and waiting, with my tongue hanging out." + +"Too bad. Why did you not look around, help yourself? Why not?" the +lieutenant demanded. "Have I not given you freedom of ship? It is yours, +everything here 'yours!" + +"I want nothing but an end to this great thirst," Lanyard protested. + +"Then--God in Heaven!--why we standing here? Come!" + +Releasing the handrail the Prussian took careful aim for the alleyway door, +launched himself toward it, slipped on the greasy metal grating, and would +have fallen heavily but for Lanyard. + +Cursing pettishly, he stood up, threw off Lanyard's arms without thanks, +and made a new attempt, this time shooting headlong through the alleyway, +to bring up against the wing table in the third forward compartment, the +kitchen and messroom in one. + +"A great pity," he muttered, opening a locker and fumbling in its +depths--"rotten pity...." + +"What?" + +"Keep you waiting so long. Not my fault." The lieutenant brought forth two +bottles of champagne and one of brandy. "You open them, Herr Doctor, like +'good fellow," he said, placing the three on the table. "I just wish you +'understand no discourtesy meant ... unavoidably detained ... beastly +commander ... drunk. Give 'my word, hopelessly drunk. Poor fool...." + +"If my judgment is sound," Lanyard said, "this noble vessel will soon need +a new commander." + +"True. Quite true." The Prussian placed two aluminium cups upon the table +and half filled one with brandy, then brimmed it with champagne. "Try +that," he said thickly, "That will keep your tail up, my friend." + +"Many thanks," Lanyard protested, filling another cup with undiluted +champagne. "I prefer one thing at a time." + +"Unfortunate ... don't know what is good ... King's peg ... wonderful +drink. No matter. To 'new commander--prosit!" + +He drained his cup at a gulp. + +"To the new commander!" Lanyard echoed, and drank judiciously. +"Excellent.... How long can he last, do you think, at this pace?" + +"No telling--not long--too long for my liking. Shall I tell 'something?" +He filled his cup again, half and half, and sat down, his wicked, rat-like +face more than ever pale and repulsive. "Not 'whisper of this, mind--though +I think 'crew sometimes suspects: he's going mad!" + +"Not that Bavarian?" + +The lieutenant nodded wisely. "If 'knew him as I know him, 'never be +surprised, my friend. You think too much drink. Yes, but not entirely. He +keeps seeing things, hearing them, especially by night." + +"What sort of things?" + +"Faces." The Prussian licked his lips, glanced furtively over his shoulder, +and drank. "Dead faces, eyes eaten out, seaweed in their hair.... And +voices--he's forever hearing voices ... people trying to talk, 'can't +make him understand because 'mouths 'full of water, you know. But they +understand one another, keep discussing how to get at him.... He tells me +about it ... I tell you, it is Hell to hear him talk ... especially when +submerged, as last night. Then he hears them fumbling all over the hull +with their stumpy fingers, trying to find 'way in, talking about him. And +he tells me, and keeps insisting, till sometimes I seem to hear them, too. +But I don't. Before God, I don't! You don't believe I do, do you?" + +His eyes rolled wildly. + +"Why should you?" + +"Just so: why should I?" The lieutenant's accents rose to a shrill pitch. +"I have not his record ... still in training when he sent _Lusitania_ to +the bottom. Yes: it was he, second-in-command, in charge of torpedo tubes. +His own hand fired that torpedo...." + +He fell silent, staring moodily into his cup, perhaps thinking of the +number of torpedoes it had been his own lot to discharge upon errands of +slaughter. + +And the dead silence of the ship was made audible by a stealthy drip-drip +of water from the seams, and the furtive slaver of the tide on the outer +plates. + +A shiver ran through the body of the Prussian. He pulled himself together +with obvious effort, looked up with an uncertain grin, and passed a shaking +hand across his writhing lips. + +"All foolishness, of course, but 'gets on one's nerves ... constant +association with man like that.... 'Know what he's doing now, or was, when +I came away? Sitting up with doors and windows locked and blinds drawn, +drinking brandy neat. He can't sleep by night if sober, or without 'light +in the room. If he does, he knows they will get him ... people he hears +crawling up from the sea, slopping round the house, mumbling, whimpering in +the dark--" + +He broke off abruptly, with a whisper more dreadful than a +shriek--"_God_!"--and jumped to his feet, whipping the automatic from his +belt. + +A footfall sounded in one of the after compartments. Others followed. + +Someone was coming slowly down the alleyway, someone with dragging, heavy +feet. + +The lieutenant waited motionless, as one petrified with terror. + +The bulkhead doorway framed the figure of the commander. He paused there, +louring at his subaltern with haunted eyes ablaze in a face like parchment. + +"So!" he said, nodding. "As I thought. It is thus I find you, fraternising +with one who may be, for all we know, an enemy to the Fatherland. You +drunken, babbling fool! Get ashore!" His angry foot thumped the grating. +"Get ashore, and report yourself under arrest!" + +With no more warning than a strangled snarl, the lieutenant shot him +through the head. + + + + +XI + +UNDER THE ROSE + + +Vague stupefaction replaced the scowl upon the countenance of the +commander. He swayed, a hand faltering to his forehead, where dark blood +was beginning to well from a cleanly drilled puncture. Then he collapsed +completely, falling prone across the raised sill of the bulkhead opening. A +convulsive tremor shook savagely his huge frame. + +Thereafter he was quite still. + +The report of that one shot had reverberated stunningly within those narrow +walls of steel. Momentarily Lanyard looked to see the alarmed anchor watch +appear; so too, apparently, the lieutenant, who remained immobile, pistol +poised in a hand for the moment strangely steady, gaze fixed upon the mouth +of the alleyway. + +But through a long minute no other sounds were audible than that ceaseless +dripping from frames and seams, with that muted, terrible mouthing of +waters on the plates. + +Unable either to fathom or forecast the workings of the drink-maddened +mentality masked by that rat-like face, Lanyard waited with a hand covertly +grasping the automatic in his pocket. There was no telling; at any moment +that murderous mania might veer his way. And he was not content to die, not +yet, not in any event by the hand of a decadent little beast of a Boche. + +Slowly the arm of the lieutenant dropped, lowering the pistol till its +muzzle chattered on the top of the table: a noise that broke the spell upon +his senses. He looked down in dull brutish wonder, then roused and with a +gesture of horror let the weapon fall clattering. + +His glance shifting to the body of his commander, he started violently, +backing up against the plates to put all possible distance between himself +and his handiwork. His lips moved, framing phrases at first incoherent, +presently articulate in part: + +"... _done it at last!... Knew I must soon_...." + +Abruptly he looked up at Lanyard. + +"Bear witness," he cried: "I was provoked beyond human endurance. He +insulted me in your presence ... me!... that scum!" + +Lanyard said nothing, but met his gaze with a blank, non-committal stare, +under which the eyes of the lieutenant wavered and fell. + +Then with a start he realised anew the significance of that still figure at +his feet, and tried to shake some of the swagger back into his wretched, +fear-racked being. + +"A good job!" he muttered defiantly. "And you will stand by me, I know.... +Only there is nothing in that, of course, no justification possible before +a court martial. Even your testimony could not save me ... I am done for, +utterly...." + +He hung his head. Lanyard heard whispered words: "_degraded," "dishonour," +"firing squad_".... + +A chronometer in the central operating compartment tolled eight bells. + +With a sharp cry the lieutenant dropped to his knees. "He can't be dead!" +he shrilled. "It is all play-acting, to frighten me!" + +Frantically he sought to turn the body over. + +Lanyard's hand shot swiftly out, capturing the automatic on the table. With +rapid and sure gestures he extracted and pocketed the clip, drew back the +breech, ejecting into his palm the one shell in the barrel, and replaced +the weapon, all before the Prussian gave over his insane efforts to +resurrect the dead. + +"He is dead enough," he announced, eyeing Lanyard morosely--"beyond +helping.... Look here; are you with me or against me?" + +"Need you ask?" + +"I count on you, then. Good. I think we can cover this up." + +He checked and stood for a while lost in thought. + +"How?" Lanyard roused him. + +"Simply enough: I go on deck, send the watch ashore on some trumped-up +errand. They suspect nothing, thinking the commander and I have you in +charge. If they heard that shot, I will say one of us dropped a bottle +of champagne, and it exploded.... When they are gone, I bring the dory +alongside; and with your help it should be an easy matter to carry this +body up, weight it, row it out to the middle of the lagoon, dump it +overboard. Then we return. Our story is, the commander followed the anchor +watch ashore; if later he wandered off, got lost in the woods in his +alcoholic delirium, that is no affair of ours. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," said Lanyard with a look of fatuous innocence. "But how about +the water--is it deep enough?" + +The Prussian took no pains to dissemble his scorn of this question, +seemingly so witless. "To cover the body? Why, even here there is +sufficient depth at low tide for us to submerge completely, barring the +periscopes. And it is deeper yet in the middle." + +"Thanks," Lanyard replied meekly. + +"Have another drink? No?" The Prussian tossed off a half cupful of +undiluted brandy, and shuddered. "Then stop here. I'll be back in a--" + +"Half a minute." The lieutenant halted in the act of stepping across the +body. Lanyard levelled a hand at the automatic. "Do you mind taking that +with you? I have no desire to be found here with it and a dead man, should +anything prevent your return." + +With a sickly grimace the murderer snatched up the weapon, thrust it in its +holster, and hurriedly departed. + +Lanyard watched him pass through the alleyway and turn toward the companion +ladder, then followed quietly. + +As the lieutenant climbed out on deck, Lanyard ascended to the conning +tower and waited there, listening. He could not quite make out what was +said; but after a few brusque words of command two pair of boots rang on +the gangplank and thumped away down the stage. At the same time Lanyard let +himself noiselessly out through the hatch. + +As soon as his vision grew reconciled to the change from light to darkness, +he discovered the slender figure of the lieutenant skulking on tip-toe +after the retreating anchor watch; about midway on the landing stage, +however, he paused and bent over one of the piles, apparently fumbling with +the painter of a small boat moored in the black shadows below. + +At this Lanyard began to move along the deck, one by one working the +mooring lines clear of their cleats and dropping them gently overboard, +till but two were left to hold the U-boat in place. + +Throughout he kept watch upon the manoeuvres of the lieutenant--saw him +drop over the side of the stage, heard a thump of feet as he landed in a +boat, and a subsequent creak of oar-locks. + +The small boat was rounding the bows of the submarine when the adventurer +ducked back through conning tower to hold. + +He was standing where he had been left when the lieutenant came below. + +"It's all right," this last announced with shabby bravado as he stepped +over the body in the doorway. "We are rid of that damned watch for a time. +They won't return within half an hour at least. I have the dory moored +amidships. If we are lively, this dirty job will be over in no time at +all." + +Lanyard nodded. "I am ready." + +"No need to hurry--plenty of time for one more drink." The Prussian +splashed brandy into the cup, filling it to the brim. "And God knows I need +it!" + +Lanyard watched critically as, with head well back, he drained that +staggering dose of raw spirit gulp by gulp without once removing the cup +from his lips. No mortal man could drink like that and stand up under it: +it was now a mere question of time.... + +Hardly that: the hand of the murderer shook and wavered widely as he put +down the cup. For a moment he swayed with eyes fixed and glazing, features +visibly losing plasticity, then lurched forward, knocking the brandy bottle +to the floor, swung around a full half turn in blind effort to re-establish +equilibrium, fell backward upon the table, and lay racked from head to foot +with savage spasms, hands clawing empty air, chest labouring vainly to win +sufficient oxygen to combat the poison with which his system was saturated. + +Moving to his side, Lanyard laid a hand upon the left breast. The man's +heart was hammering his ribs with agonizing blows, at first rapid, by +degrees more slow and feeble. + +No power on earth could save him now: he had committed suicide as surely as +murder. + +Wasting not another glance or thought upon him Lanyard hurried aft to the +central operating room. + +The time he had spent there, an hour earlier, was by no means lost in +purposeless marvelling. He boasted a certain aptitude for mechanics, +perhaps legitimately inherited from that obscure origin of his, largely +fostered by the requirements of his craft; into the bargain, he had been +privileged ere now to gain some slight insight into the principles of +submersible operation. If obliged to work swiftly and in some instances +upon the advice of intuition rather than practical knowledge, he went not +unintelligently about his task, made few false moves. + +Turning first to the diving controls, he adjusted the hydroplanes to their +extreme downward inclination, then made the rounds of the vent valves, +opening all wide. With a sharp hissing and whistling the air from the +auxiliary tanks was driven inboard, and as Lanyard manipulated the wheels +operating the forward and aft groups of Kingston valves, to the hissing was +added the suck and gurgle of water flooding the main and auxiliary ballast +and adjusting tanks. + +Immediately the U-boat began to sink. Lanyard delayed only to close the +switches which controlled the electric motors. As their drone gained volume +he grasped the rifle and swarmed up the companion-ladder, passing through +the conning tower to deck with little or nothing to spare--with, in fact, +barely time to throw off the two mooring lines and jump into the small boat +before water, sweeping hungrily up over deck and bridge, began to cascade +through conning tower and torpedo hatchways. + +Constrained to cut the painter lest the dory be drawn down with the +fast-sinking submarine, he fitted oars to locks and put his back to them, +swinging the small boat hastily clear of whirlpools which formed as the +waves closed over the spot where the U-boat had rested. + +From first to last less than five minutes' activity had been needed for +the task of scotching this water-moccasin of the salt seas and putting its +keepers at the mercy of the country whose hospitality they had too long +abused. + +Well content, after a little, Lanyard lay on his oars and contemplated with +much interest what the night permitted to be visible: the landing stage, no +more than a dark, vague mass in the darkness; the land picked out with but +few lights, mainly at windows of the base buildings, painting dim ribbons +upon the polished floor of the lagoon. + +Methodically these were eclipsed as a moving figure passed before them. + +Listening intently, Lanyard could distinguish the slow footfalls of an +unsuspecting sentry--no other sounds, more than gentle voices of the night: +murmurs of blind wavelets, the plaintive whisper of a little breeze belated +amid the tree-tops of that dark forest, and a slow, weary soughing of +swells upon the distant ocean shore. + +Perceiving as yet not the slightest indication of an alarm ashore, Lanyard +ventured to continue rowing, but with utmost caution, lifting and dipping +his blades as gingerly as though they were fashioned of brittle glass, and +for want of a better guide keeping the stern of the dory square to the +shank of the T-stage. + +In time the bows grounded lightly on sand. The melancholy voice of the sea +now seemed a heavier sighing in the stillness. He pushed off and rowed on +parallel with a dark shore line, so close in that his starboard oar touched +bottom at each stroke. + +At intervals he paused and rested, striving vainly to garner some clue to +his bearings. Inexorably the blackness forbade that. He might have failed +ere dawn to grope a way out of that trap had not the disappearance of the +submarine been discovered within the hour. + +A sudden clamour rose in the quarter of the landing stage, first one great +shout of dismay, then two voices bellowing together, then others. Several +rifle-shots were fired in the air. More lights broke out in windows ashore. +Many feet drummed resoundingly upon the stage, and the confusion of voices +attained a pitch of wild, hysteric uproar. Of a sudden a flare was lighted +and tossed far out upon the bosom of the lagoon. + +Surprised by that sharp and merciless blue glare, Lanyard instinctively +shipped oars and picked up the rifle. He could see so clearly that +huddle of figures upon the head of the landing stage that he confidently +apprehended being fired upon at any moment; but minutes lengthened and +he was not. Either the Germans were looking for bigger game than a dory +adrift, or the dazzling flare hindered more than aided their vision. + +At length persuaded that he had not been detected, Lanyard put aside the +rifle and resumed the oars. Now his course was made beautifully clear to +him: the blue light showed him that outlet to the sea which he sought +within a hundred yards' distance. + +Presently the flare began to wane. It was not renewed. Altogether unseen, +unsuspected, Lanyard swung the dory into the breach, and drove it seaward +with all his might. + +Swiftly the lagoon was shut out by narrow closing banks. The blue glare +died out behind a black profile of rounded dunes. Lanyard turned the bow +eastward, rowing broadside to the shore. + +After something more than an hour of this mode of progress, he struck in +toward the beach, disembarked in ankle-deep waters, slung the rifle over +his shoulder by its strap and, pushing the dory off, abandoned it to the +whim of the sea. + +Then again he set his face to the east, following the contour of the beach +just within the wash of the tide: thereby making sure that there should +be no trail of footprints in the sand to guide a possible pursuit in the +morning. + +The rising sun found him purposefully splashing on, weary but enheartened +by the discovery that he had left behind the more thickly wooded section of +the island. + +Presently, turning in to the dry beach for the first time, he climbed +to the summit of a dune somewhat higher than its fellows, and took +observations, finding that he had come near to the eastern extremity of the +island. + +At some distance to his right a wagon road, faintly rutted in sand and +overgrown with beach grass, struck inland. + +Following this at a venture, he came, at about eight o'clock, upon the +outskirts of a waterside community. + +Before proceeding he hid the magazine rifle in a thicket, then made a wide +detour, and picked up a roadway which entered the village from the north. + +If his disreputable appearance was calculated to excite comment, readiness +in disbursing money to remedy such shortcomings made amends for Lanyard's +taciturnity. Within two hours, shaved, bathed, and inconspicuously dressed +in a cheap suit of ready-made clothing, he was breakfasting famously upon +the plain fare of a commercial tavern. + +The town, he learned, was the one-time important whaling port of Edgartown. +He would be able to leave for the mainland on a ferry steamer sailing early +in the afternoon. + +Ten minutes before going abroad he filed a long telegram in code addressed +to the head of the British Secret Service in New York.... + +Consequences manifold and various ensued. + +When the telegram had been delivered and decoded--both transactions being +marked by reasonable promptitude--the head of the British Secret Service +in New York called the British Embassy in Washington on the long distance +telephone. + +Shortly thereafter an attache of the British Embassy jumped into a +motor-car and had himself driven to one of the cardinal departments of the +Federal Government. + +When he had kicked his heels in an antechamber upward of an hour, he was +received, affably enough, by the head of the department, a smug, open-faced +gentleman whose mood was largely preoccupied with illusions of grandeur, +who was, in short, interested far more in considering how splendid it was +to be himself than in hearing about any mare's-nest of a German U-boat base +on the south shore of Martha's Vineyard. + +He was, however, indulgent enough to promise to give the matter his +distinguished consideration in due course. + +He even went so far as to have his secretary make a note of what alleged +information this young Englishman had to impart. + +During the night he chanced to wake up and recall the matter, and concluded +that, all things considered, it would do no harm to give the United States +Navy a little amusement and exercise, even if it should turn out that the +rumour of this submarine base was a canard. + +So, the next morning, he went to his desk some time before noon, and issued +a lot of orders. One of them had to do with the necessity for absolute +secrecy. + +During the day several minor officials of the department might have been, +and indeed were, observed going about their business with painfully +tight-lipped expressions. + +Also many messages were transmitted by wireless, telephone, and telegraph, +to various persons charged with the defense of the Atlantic Coast; some of +these were code messages, some were not. + +That same night a great forest fire sprang up on the south shore of +Martha's Vineyard, both preceded and accompanied by a series of heavy +explosions. + +The first United States vessel to reach the lagoon found only charred +remains of a landing stage and several buildings and, at the bottom of the +lagoon, an incoherent mass of wreckage, a twisted and shattered chaos of +steel plates and framework that might possibly have been a perfectly sound +submarine, though sunken, had somebody not been warned in ample time +to permit its destruction through the agency of trinitrotoluene, that +enormously efficient modern explosive nicknamed by British military and +naval experts "T.N.T.," and by the Germans "Trotyl." + + + + +XII + +RESURRECTION + + +The early editions of those New York evening newspapers which Lanyard +purchased in Providence, when he changed trains there en route from New +Bedford to New York, carried multi-column and most picturesque accounts of +the _Assyrian_ disaster. + +But the whole truth was in none. + +Lanyard laid aside the last paper privately satisfied that, for no-doubt +praiseworthy reasons of its own, Washington had seen fit to dictate the +suppression of a number of extremely pertinent circumstances and facts +which could hardly have escaped governmental knowledge. + +Already, one inferred, a sort of censorship was at work, an effective if +comparatively modest precursor to that noble volunteer committee which was +presently with touching spontaneity to fasten itself upon an astonished +Ship of State before it could gather enough way to escape such cirripede +attachments. + +Presumably it was not thought wise to disconcert a great people, in the +complacence of its awakening to the fact that it was remotely at war with +the Hun, with information that a Boche submersible was, or of late had +been, operating in the neighbourhood of Nantucket. + +Unanimously the sinking of the _Assyrian_ was ascribed to an internal +explosion of unknown origin. No paper hinted that German secret agents +might possibly have figured incogniti among her passengers. There was +mention neither of the flare which had burned on her after deck to make +the _Assyrian_ a conspicuous target in the night, nor of any of the other +untoward events which had led up to the explosion. Nothing whatever +was said of the shot fired at the submerging U-boat by a United States +torpedo-boat destroyer speeding to the rescue. + +Still, the bare facts alone were sufficiently appalling. Reading what had +been permitted to gain publication, Lanyard experienced a qualm of horror +together with the thought that, even had he drowned as he had expected to +drown, such a fate had almost been preferable to participation in those +awful ten minutes precipitated by that pale messenger of death which had so +narrowly missed Lanyard himself as he rested on the bosom of the sea. + +Within ten minutes after receiving her coup de grace the _Assyrian_ had +gone under; barely that much time had been permitted a passenger list of +seventy-two and a personnel of nearly three hundred souls in which to rouse +from dreams of security and take to the lifeboats. + +Thanks to the frenzied haste compelled by the swift settling of the ship, +more than one boat had been capsized. Others had been sunk--literally +driven under--by masses of humanity cascading into them from slanting +decks. Others, again, had never been launched at all. + +The utmost efforts of the destroyer, fortuitously so near at hand, had +served to rescue but thirty-one passengers and one hundred and eighty of +the crew. + +In the list of survivors Lanyard found these names: + + Becker, Julius--New York + Brooke, Cecelia--London + Crane, Robert T.--New York + Dressier, Emil--Geneva + O'Reilly, Edmund--Detroit + Putnam, Bartlett--Philadelphia + Velasco, Arturo--Buenos Aires + +Among the injured, Lieutenant Lionel Thackeray, D.S.O., was listed as +suffering from concussion of the brain, said to have been contracted +through a fall while attempting to aid the launching of a lifeboat. + +In the long roster of the drowned these names appeared: + + Bartholomew, Archer--London + Duchemin, Andre--Paris + Von Harden, Baron Gustav--Amsterdam + Osborne, Captain E. W.--London + +Of all the officers, Mr. Sherry was a solitary survivor, fished out of the +sea after going down with his ship. + +No list boasted the name "Karl." + +Lacking accommodations for the rescued, it was stated, the destroyer had +summoned by wireless the east-bound freight steamship _Saratoga_, which had +trans-shipped the unfortunates and turned back to New York.... + +Throughout the best part of that journey from Providence to New York +Lanyard sat blankly staring into the black mirror of the window beside +his chair, revolving schemes for his immediate future in the light of +information derived, indirectly as much as directly, from these newspaper +stories. + +Retrospective consideration of that voyage left little room for doubt that +the designs of the German agents had been thoughtfully matured. They had +been quiet enough between their first stroke in the dark and their last, +between the burglary of Cecelia Brooke's stateroom the first night out and +those murderous attacks on Bartholomew and Thackeray. Unquestionably, +had they bided their time pending that hour when, according to their +information, the submersible would be off Nantucket, awaiting their signal +to sink the _Assyrian_--a signal which would never have been given had +their plans proved successful, had they not made the ship too hot to hold +them, and finally had they not made every provision for their own escape +when the ship went down. + +Lanyard was confident that all of their company had been warned to hold +themselves ready, and consequently had come off scot free--all, that is, +save that victim of treachery, the unhappy Baron von Harden. + +If the number of that group which Lanyard had selected as comprising a +majority of his enemies, those nine who had discussed the Lone Wolf in the +smoking room, was now reduced to five--Becker, Dressier, O'Reilly, Putnam, +and Velasco--or four, eliminating Putnam, of whose loyalty there could be +no question--Lanyard still had no means of knowing how many confederates +among the other passengers these four might not have had. + +And even four men who appreciated what peril to their plans inhered in the +Lone Wolf, even four made a ponderable array of desperate enemies to have +at large in New York, apt to be encountered at any corner, apt at any time +to espy and recognise him without his knowledge. + +This situation imposed upon him two major tasks of immediate moment: he +must hunt down those four one by one and either satisfy himself as to their +innocence of harmful intent or put them permanently _hors de combat_; and +he must extinguish utterly, once and for all time, that amiable personality +whose brief span had been restricted to the decks of the _Assyrian_, +Monsieur Andre Duchemin. + +That one must be buried deep, beyond all peradventure of involuntary +resurrection. + +Fortunately the last step toward the positive metamorphosis indicated had +been taken that very morning, when the Gallic beard of Monsieur Duchemin +was erased by the razor of a New England barber, whose shears had likewise +eradicated every trace of a Continental mode of hair-dressing. There +remained about Lanyard little to remind of Andre Duchemin but his eyes; and +the look of one's eyes, as every good actor knows, is something far more +easy to disguise than is commonly believed. + +But it was hardly in human nature not to mourn the untimely demise of so +useful a body, one who carried such beautiful credentials and serviceable +letters of introduction, whose character boasted so much charm with a +solitary fault--too facile vulnerability to the prying eyes of those to +whom Paris meant those days and social strata in which Michael Lanyard +had moved and had his being. Witness--according to Crane--the demoniac +cleverness of the Brazilian in unmasking the Duchemin incognito. + +Suspicion was taking form in Lanyard's reflections that he had paid far +too little attention to Senor Arturo Velasco of Buenos Aires, whose +avowed avocation of amateur criminologist might easily be synonymous with +interests much less innocuous. + +Or why had Velasco been so quick to communicate recognition of Lanyard to +an employee of the United States Secret Service? + +For that matter, why had he felt called so publicly to descant upon the +natural history of the Lone Wolf? In order to focus upon that one the +attentions of his enemies? Or to put him on guard? + +It was altogether perplexing. Was one to esteem Velasco friend or foe? + +Lanyard could comfort himself only with the promise he should one day know, +and that without undue delay. + +Alighting in Grand Central Terminus late at night, he made his way to +Forty-second Street and there, in the staring headlines of a "Late Extra," +read the news that the steamship _Saratoga_ had suffered a crippling +engine-room accident and was limping slowly toward port, still something +like eighteen hours out. + +Wondering if it were presumption to construe this as an omen that the stars +in their courses fought for him, Lanyard went west to Broadway afoot, all +the way beset with a sense of incredulity; it was difficult to believe that +he was himself, alive and at large in this city of wonder and space, where +people moved at leisure and without fear on broad streets that resembled +deep-bitten channels for rivers of light. He was all too wont with nights +of dread and trembling, with the mediaeval gloom that enwrapped the cities +of Europe by night, their grim black streets desolate but for a few, +infrequent, scurrying shapes of fright.... While here the very beggars +walked with heads unbowed, and men and women of happier estate laughed and +played and made love lightly in the scampering taxis that whisked them +homeward from restaurants of the feverish midnight. + +A people at war, actually at grips with the Blond Beast, arrayed to +defend itself and all humanity against conquest by that loathsome incubus +incarnate, a people heedless, carefree, irresponsible, refusing to credit +its peril.... + +Here and there a recruiting poster, down the broad reaches of Fifth Avenue +a display of bunting, no other hint of war-time spirit and gravity.... + +Longacre Square, a weltering lake of kaleidoscopic radiance, even at this +late hour thronged with carnival crowds, not one note of sobriety in the +night.... + +Lanyard lifted a wondering gaze to the livid sky whose far, clear stars +were paled and shamed by the up-flung glare, like eyes of innocence peering +down into a pit of hell. + +Inscrutable! + +Yet one could hardly be numb to the subtle, heady intoxication of those +cool, immaculate, sea-sweet airs which swept the streets, instilling +self-confidence and lightness of spirit even in heads shadowed with the woe +of war-worn Europe. + +Lanyard had not crossed the Avenue before he found himself walking with a +brisker stride, holding his own head high.... + +On impulse, despite the lateness of the hour, albeit with misgivings +justified in the issue, he hailed a taxicab and had himself driven to the +headquarters of the British Secret Service in America, an unostentatious +dwelling on the northwest corner of West End Avenue at Ninety-fifth Street. + +Here a civil footman answered the door and Lanyard's enquiries with the +information that Colonel Stanistreet had unexpectedly been called out +of town and would not return before evening of the next day, while his +secretary, Mr. Blensop, had gone to a play and might not come home till all +hours. + +More impatient than disappointed, Lanyard climbed back into his cab, and in +consequence of consultation with its friendly minded chauffeur, eventually +put up for the night in an Eighth Avenue hotel of the class that made +Senator Raines famous, a hostelry brazenly proclaiming accommodations "for +gentlemen only," whereas it offered entertainment for both man and beast +and catered rather more to beast than to man. + +However, it served; it was inconspicuous and made no demands upon a shabby +traveller sans luggage, more than payment in advance. + +Early abroad, Lanyard breakfasted with attention fixed to the advertising +columns of the _Herald_, and by mid-morning was established as sub-tenant +of a furnished bachelor apartment on Fifty-eighth Street near Seventh +Avenue, a tiny nest of few rooms on the street level, with entrances from +both the general lobby and the street direct: an admirable arrangement for +one who might choose to come and go without supervision or challenge. + +Lacking local references as to his character, Lanyard was obliged to pay +three months' rent in advance in addition to making a substantial deposit +to cover possible damage to the furnishings. + +His name, a spur-of-the-moment selection, was recorded in the lease as +Anthony Ember. + +At noon he brought to his lodgings two trunks salvaged from a storage +warehouse wherein they had been deposited more than three years since, on +the eve of his flight with his family from America, an affair of haste and +secrecy forbidding the handicap of heavy impedimenta. + +Thus Lanyard became once more possessor of a tolerably comprehensive +wardrobe. + +But, those trunks released more than his personal belongings; intermingled +were possessions that had been his wife's and his boy's. As he unpacked, +memories peopled those perfunctorily luxurious lodgings of the transient +with melancholy ghosts as sweet and sad as lavender and rue. + +For hours on end the man sat idle, head bowed down, hands plucking +aimlessly at small broidered garments. + +And if in the sweep and turmoil of late events he seemed to have forgotten +for a little that feud which had brought him overseas, he roused from this +brief interlude of saddened dreaming with the iron of deadly purpose newly +entered into his soul, and in his heart one dominant thought, that now his +hour with Ekstrom could not, must not, be long deferred. + +In the street there rose an uproar of inhuman bawling. Lanyard went to the +private door, hailed one of the husky authors of the din, an itinerant +news-vendor, and disbursed a nickel coin for one cent's worth of spushul +uxtry and four cents' worth of howling impudence. + +He found no more of interest in the newspaper than the information that the +_Saratoga_ had been sighted off Fire Island and was expected to dock in New +York not later than eight o'clock that night. + +This, however, was acceptable reading. Lanyard had work to do which were +better done before "Karl" and his crew found opportunity to communicate +directly with their collaborators ashore, work which it were unwise +to initiate before nightfall lent a cloak of shadows to hoodwink the +ever-possible adventitious German spy. + +Nor was he so fatuous as to fancy it would profit him to call before nine +o'clock at the house on West End Avenue. No earlier might he hope to find +Colonel the Honourable George Fleetwood-Stanistreet near the end of his +dinner, and so in a mood approachable and receptive. + +But there could be no harm in reconnaissance by daylight. + +He whiled away the latter part of the afternoon in taxicabs, by dint of +frequent changes contriving in the most casual fashion imaginable to pass +the Seventy-ninth Street branch of the Wilhelmstrasse no less than four +times. + +Little rewarded these tactics other than a fairly accurate mental +photograph of the building and its situation--and a growing suspicion that +the United States Government had profited nothing by England's lessons +of early war days in respect of the one way to cope with resident enemy +aliens. + +The house stood upon a corner, occupying half of an avenue block--the +northern half of which was the site of a towering apartment house in +course of construction--and loomed over its lesser neighbours a monumental +monstrosity of architecture, as formidable as a fortress, its lower tiers +of windows barred with iron, substantial iron grilles ready to bar its +main entrance, even heavier gates guarding the carriage court in the +side street. In all a stronghold not easy for the most accomplished +house-breaker to force; yet the heart of it was Lanyard's goal; for there, +he believed, Ekstrom (under whatever _nom de guerre_) lay hidden, or if not +Ekstrom, at least a clear lead to his whereabouts. + +Certainly that one could not be far from the powerful wireless station +secretly maintained on the roof of this weird jumble of architectural +periods, its aerials cunningly hidden in the crowning atrocity of its +minaret: a station reputedly so powerful that it could receive Berlin's +nightly outgivings of news and orders, and, in emergency, transmit them to +other secret stations in Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela. + +Yet the shrewdest scrutiny of eyes trained to detect police agents at +sight, however well disguised, failed to espy one sign of any sort of +espionage upon this nest of rattlesnakes. + +Apparently its tenants came and went as they willed, untroubled by and +contemptuous of governmental surveillance. + +A handsome limousine car pulled up at its carriage block as Lanyard drove +by, one time, and a pretty woman, exquisitely gowned, alighted and was +welcomed by hospitable front doors that opened before she could ring: a +woman Lanyard knew as one of the most daring, diabolically clever, and +unscrupulous creatures of the Wilhelmstrasse, one whose life would not have +been worth an hour's purchase had she ventured to show herself in Paris, +London, or Petrograd at any time since the outbreak of the war. + +He drove on, deep in amaze. + +Indications were not wanting, on the other hand, that enemy spies +maintained close watch upon the movements of those who frequented the house +on West End Avenue. A German agent whom Lanyard knew by sight was strolling +by as his taxi rounded its corner and swung on down toward Riverside Drive. + +This more modest residence possessed a brick-walled garden at the back, on +the Ninety-fifth Street side. And if the top of the wall was crusted with +broken glass in a fashion truly British, it had a door, and the door a +lock. And Lanyard made a note thereon. + +And when he went home to dress for dinner, he opened up the false bottom +of one of his trunks and selected from a store of cloth-wrapped bundles +therein one which contained a small bunch of innocent-looking keys whose +true _raison d'etre_ was anything in the world but guileless. + +Later he did himself very well at Delmonico's, enjoying for the first time +in many years a well-balanced dinner faultlessly cooked and served amid +quiet surroundings that carried memory back half a decade to the Paris that +was, the Paris that nevermore will be.... + +At nine precisely he paid off a taxicab at the corner of Ninety-fifth +Street. + +While waiting on the doorstep of the corner house, he raked the street +right and left with searching glances, and was somewhat reassured. +Apparently he called at an hour when the Boche pickets were off duty; at +the moment there was no pedestrian visible within a block's distance +on either hand, nobody that he could see skulked in the areas of the +old-fashioned brownstone houses across the way. + +The neighbourhood was, indeed, quiet even for an upper West Side +residential quarter. A block over to the east Broadway was strident in the +flood of its nocturnal traffic; a like distance to the west Riverside Drive +hummed with pleasure cars taking advantage of the first bland night of that +belated spring. But here, now that the taxi had wheeled away, there was +never a car in sight, nor even a strolling brace of sidewalk lovers. + +The door opened, revealing the same footman. + +"Colonel Stanistreet? I will see, sir." + +Lanyard entered. + +"If you will be kind enough to be seated," the footman suggested, +indicating a small waiting room. "And what name shall I say?" + +It had been Lanyard's intention to have himself announced simply as the +author of that telegram from Edgartown. Obscure impulse made him change his +mind, some premonition so tenuous as to defy analysis. + +"Mr. Anthony Ember." + +"Thank you, sir." + +After a little the footman returned. + +"If you will come this way, sir...." + +He led toward the back of the house, introducing Lanyard to a spacious +apartment, a library uncommonly well furnished, rather more than +comfortably yet without a trace of ostentation in its complete luxury, a +warm room, a room intimately lived in, a room, in short, characteristically +British in atmosphere. + +Waist-high bookcases lined the walls, broken on the right by a cheerful +fireplace with a grate of glowing cannel coal, in front of it a great club +lounge upholstered, like all the chairs, in well-used leather. Opposite the +chimney-piece, a handsome thing in carved oak, a door was draped with a +curtain that swung with it. In the back of the room two long and wide +French windows stood open to the night, beyond them that garden whose +wall had attracted Lanyard's attention. There were a number of paintings, +portraits for the most part, heavily framed, with overhead picture-lights. +In the middle of the room was a table-desk, broad and long, supporting a +shaded reading lamp. On the far side of the table a young man sat writing, +with several dockets of papers arranged before him. + +As Lanyard entered, this one put down his pen, pushed back his chair, and +came round the table: a tallish, well-made young man, dressed a shade too +foppishly in spite of an unceremonious dinner coat, his manner assured, +amiable, unconstrained, perhaps a little over-tolerant. + +"Mr. Ember, I believe?" he said in a voice studiously musical. + +"Yes," Lanyard replied, vaguely annoyed with himself because of an +unreasoning resentment of this musical quality. "Mr. Blensop?" + +"I am Mr. Blensop," that one admitted gracefully. "And how may I have the +pleasure of being of service?" + +He waved a hand toward an easy chair beside the table, and resumed his own. +But Lanyard hesitated. + +"I wished to see Colonel Stanistreet." + +Mr. Blensop looked up with an indulgent smile. His face was round and +smooth but for a perfectly docile little moustache, his lips full and red, +his nose delicately chiselled; but his eyes, though large, were set cannily +close together. + +"Colonel Stanistreet is unfortunately not at home. I am his secretary." + +"Yes," said Lanyard, still standing. "In that case I'd be glad if you would +be good enough to make an appointment for me with Colonel Stanistreet." + +"I am afraid he will not be home till very late to-night, but--" + +"Then to-morrow?" + +Mr. Blensop smiled patiently. "Colonel Stanistreet is a very busy man," he +uttered melodiously. "If you could let me know something about the nature +of your business...." + +"It is the King's," said Lanyard bluntly. + +The secretary went so far as to betray well-bred surprise. "You are an +Englishman, Mr. Ember?" + +"Yes." + +And for all he knew to the contrary, so Lanyard was. + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet's secretary," the young man again suggested +hopefully. + +"That is precisely why I ask you to make an appointment for me with your +employer," Lanyard retorted politely. + +"You won't say what you wish to see him about?" + +A trace of asperity marred the music of those tones; Mr. Blensop further +indicated distaste of the innuendo inherent in Lanyard's use of the word +"employer" by delicately wrinkling his nose. + +"I am sorry," Lanyard replied sufficiently. + +The door behind him opened, and the footman intruded. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop...." + +"Yes, Walker?" + +The servant advanced to the table and proffered a visiting card on a tray. +Mr. Blensop took it, arched pencilled brows over it. + +"To see me, Walker?" + +"The gentleman asked for Colonel Stanistreet, sir." + +"H'm.... You may show him in when I ring." + +The footman retired. Mr. Blensop looked up brightly, bending the card with +nervous fingers. + +"You were saying your business was...?" + +"I was not," Lanyard replied with disarming good humour. "I'm afraid that +is something much too important and confidential to reveal even to Colonel +Stanistreet's secretary, if you don't mind my saying so." + +Mr. Blensop did mind, and betrayed vexation with an impatient little +gesture which caused the card to fly from his fingers and fall face +uppermost on the table. Almost instantly he recovered it, but not before +Lanyard had read the name it bore. + +"Of course not," said the secretary pleasantly, rising. "But you understand +my instructions are rigid ... I'm sorry." + +"You refuse me the appointment?" + +"Unless you can give me an inkling of your business--or perhaps bring a +letter of introduction." + +"I can do neither, Mr. Blensop," said Lanyard earnestly. "I have +information of the gravest moment to communicate to the head of the British +Secret Service in this country." + +The secretary looked startled. "What makes you think Colonel Stanistreet is +connected with the British Secret Service?" + +"I don't think so; I know it." + +After a moment of hesitation Mr. Blensop yielded graciously. "If you can +come back at nine to-morrow morning, Mr. Ember, I'll do my best to persuade +Colonel Stanistreet--" + +"I repeat, my business is of the most pressing nature. Can't you arrange +for me to see your employer to-night?" + +"It is utterly impossible." + +Lanyard accepted defeat with a bow. + +"To-morrow at nine, then," he said, turning toward the door by which he had +entered. + +"At nine," said Mr. Blensop, generous in triumph. "But do you mind going +out this way?" + +He moved toward the curtained door opposite the chimney-piece. Lanyard +paused, shrugged, and followed. Mr. Blensop opened the door, disclosing a +vista of Ninety-fifth Street. + +"Thank _you_, Mr. Ember. _Good_-night," he intoned. + +The door closed with the click of a spring latch. + +Lanyard stood alone in the street, looking swiftly this way and that, his +hand closing upon that little bunch of keys in his pocket, his humour +lawless. + +For the name inscribed on that card which Mr. Blensop had so carelessly +dropped was one to fill Lanyard with consuming anxiety for better +acquaintance with its present wearer. + +Written in pencil, with all the individual angularity of French +chirography, the name was Andre Duchemin. + + + + +XIII + +REINCARNATION + + +It took a little time and patience but, on his third essay, Lanyard found +a key which agreed with the lock. He permitted himself a sigh of relief; +Ninety-fifth Street was bare, the door set flush with the outside of the +wall afforded no concealment to the trespasser, while the direct light of a +street lamp at the corner made his lonely figure uncomfortably conspicuous. + +Apparently, however, he had not been observed. + +Gently pushing the door open, he slipped in, as gently closed it, then for +a full minute stood stirless, spying out the lay of the land. + +Fitting precisely his anticipations, the garden discovered a fine English +flavour; it was well-kept, modest, fragrant and, best of all, quite dark, +especially so in the shadow of the street wall. Only a glimmer of starlight +enabled him to pick out the course of a pebbled footpath. A border of deep +turf between this and the wall muffled his footsteps as he moved toward the +back of the house. + +The library windows, deeply recessed, opened on a low, broad stoop of +concrete, with a pergola effect above, and a few wicker pieces upon a grass +mat underfoot. + +Noiselessly Lanyard stepped across the low sill and paused in the cover of +heavy draperies, commanding a tolerably full view of the library if one +somewhat unsatisfactory, since the light within was by no means bright. +Still, this circumstance had its advantages for him; with his dark topcoat +buttoned to the throat and its collar turned up to hide his linen, he was +confident he would not be detected unless he gave his presence away by an +abrupt movement--something which the Lone Wolf never made. + +At the moment Mr. Blensop seemed to be engaged in the surprising occupation +of discoursing upon art to his caller. + +The latter occupied that chair which Lanyard had refused, on the far side +of the table. Thus placed, the lamplight masked more than revealed him, +throwing a dull glare into Lanyard's eyes. His man sat in a pose of earnest +attention, bending forward a trifle to follow the exposition of Mr. +Blensop, who stood beneath a portrait on the wall between the chimney-piece +and the windows, his attitude incurably graceful, a hand on the switch +controlling the picture-light. Apparently he had just finished speaking, +for he paused, looking toward his guest with a quiet and intimate smile as +he turned off the light. + +"And that's all there is to it," he declared, moving back to the table. + +"I see," said the other thoughtfully. + +Lanyard felt himself start almost uncontrollably: rage swept through him, +storming brain and body, like a black squall over a hill-bound lake. For +the moment he could neither see or hear clearly nor think coherently. + +For the voice of this latest incarnation of Andre Duchemin was the voice of +"Karl." + +When the tumult of his senses subsided he heard Blensop saying, "I'll +write it out for you," and saw him pick up a pad and pencil and jot down a +memorandum. + +"There you are," he added, ripping off the sheet and passing it across the +table. "Now you can't go wrong." + +"I precious seldom do," his caller commented drily. + +"I think--" Blensop began, and checked sharply as the man Walker came into +the room. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop--" + +There was an accent of impatience in those beautifully modulated tones: +"Well, what is it now?" + +"A lady to see you, sir." + +Blensop took the card from the proffered salver. "Never heard of her," he +announced brusquely at a glance. "She asked for Colonel Stanistreet or for +me?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, sir. But when I said he was not at home, she asked to +see his secretary." + +"Any idea what she wants?" + +"She didn't say, sir--but she seemed much distressed." + +"They always are. H'm.... Young and good-looking?" + +"Quite, sir." + +"Dessay I may as well see her," said Mr. Blensop wearily. "Show her in when +I ring." + +Walker shut himself out of the room. + +"It's just as well," Blensop added to his caller. "You understand, my clear +fellow--?" + +"Assuredly." The man got up; but Blensop contrived exasperatingly to keep +between him and the windows. "I'm to be back at midnight?" + +"Twelve sharp; you'll be sure to find him here then. Mind leaving by this +emergency exit?" + +"Not in the least." + +"Then _good_-night, my dear Monsieur Duchemin!" + +Was there a hint of irony in Blensop's employment of that style? Lanyard +half fancied there was, but did not linger to analyse the impression. +Already the secretary had opened the side door. + +In a bound Lanyard cleared the stoop, then ran back to the door in the +wall. But with all his quickness he was all too slow; already, as he +emerged to Ninety-fifth Street, his quarry was rounding the Avenue corner. + +Defiant of discretion, Lanyard gave chase at speed but, though he had not +thirty yards to cover, again was baffled by the swiftness with which "Karl" +got about. + +He had still some distance to go when the peace of the quarter was +shattered by a door that slammed like a pistol shot, and with roaring +motor and grinding gears a cab swung away from the curb in front of the +Stanistreet residence and tore off down the Avenue. + +Swearing petulantly in his disappointment, Lanyard pulled up on the corner. +The number on the license plate was plainly revealed as the vehicle showed +its back to the street lamp. But what good was that to him? He memorised +it mechanically, in mutinous appreciation of the fact that the taxi was +setting a pace with which he could not hope to compete afoot. + +The rumble of another motor-car caught his ear, and he looked round +eagerly. A second taxicab--undoubtedly that which had brought the young +woman now presumably closeted with Mr. Blensop--was moving up into the +place vacated by the first. + +In two strides Lanyard was at its side. + +"Follow that taxi!" he cried--"number seventy-six, three-eighty-five. Don't +lose sight of it, but don't pass it--don't let them know we're following!" + +"Engaged," the driver growled. + +"Hang your engagement! Here"--Lanyard pressed a golden eagle into the +fellow's palm--"there will be another of those if you do as I say!" + +"Le's go!" the driver agreed with resignation. + +If the cab was moving before Lanyard could hop in and shut the door, the +other had already established a killing lead; and though Lanyard's man +demonstrated characteristic contempt for municipal regulations governing +the speed of motor-driven vehicles, and racketed his own madly down the +Avenue, he was wholly helpless to do more than keep the tail-lamp of the +first in sight. + +More than once that dull red eye seemed sardonically to wink. + +Still, Lanyard did not think "Karl" knew he was pursued. His conveyance had +passed the corner before Lanyard emerged from the side street. There being +no reason that Lanyard knew of why the spy should believe himself under +suspicion, his haste seemed most probably due to natural desire to avoid +adventitious recognition, coupled with, no doubt, other urgent business. + +At Seventy-second Street the chase turned east, with Lanyard two blocks +behind, and for a few agonizing moments was altogether lost to him. But at +Broadway the tide of southbound traffic hindered it momentarily, and it +swung into that stream with its pursuer only a block astern. + +Thereafter through a ride of another mile and a half, the distance between +the two was augmented or abbreviated arbitrarily by the rules of the road. + +At one time less than two cab-lengths separated them; then a Ford, driven +Fordishly, wandered vaguely out of a crosstown street and hesitated in the +middle of the thoroughfare with precisely the air of a staring yokel on +a first visit to the city; and Lanyard's driver slammed on the emergency +brake barely in time to escape committing involuntary but justifiable +flivvercide. + +When he was able once more to throw the gears into high, the chase was a +long block ahead. + +They were entering Longacre Square before he made up that loss. + +And at Forty-fourth Street, again, a stream of east-bound cars edged in +between the two, reducing Lanyard's driver to the verge of gibbering +lunacy. + +A car resembling "Karl's" was crossing Broadway at Forty-second Street when +Lanyard was still on Seventh Avenue north of the Times Building. + +But only a minute later his driver pulled up in front of the Hotel +Knickerbocker, and Lanyard, peering through the forward window, saw the +number 76-385 on the license plate of a taxicab drawing away, empty, from +the curb beneath the hotel canopy. + +He tossed the second gold piece to the driver as his feet touched the +sidewalk, and shouldered through a cluster of men and women at the main +entrance to the lobby. + +That rendezvous of Broadway was fairly thronged despite the slack +mid-evening hour, between the dinner and the supper crushes; but Lanyard +reviewed in vain the little knots of guests and loungers; if "Karl" were +among them, he was nobody whom Lanyard had learned to know by sight on +board the _Assyrian_. + +With as little success he searched unobtrusively all public rooms on the +main floor. + +It was, of course, both possible and probable that "Karl," himself a guest +of the hotel, had crossed directly to the elevators and been whisked aloft +to his room. + +With this in mind, Lanyard paused at the desk, asked permission to examine +the register and, being accommodated, was somewhat consoled; if his chase +had failed of its immediate objective, it now proved not altogether +fruitless. A majority of the _Assyrian_ survivors seemed to have elected to +stop at the Knickerbocker. One after another Lanyard, scanning the entries, +found these names: + + Edmund O'Reilly--Detroit + Arturo Velasco--Buenos Aires + Bartlett Putnam--Philadelphia + Cecelia Brooke--London + Emil Dressier--Geneve + +Half inclined to commit the imprudence of sending a name up to Miss +Brooke--any name but Andre Duchemin, Michael Lanyard, or Anthony +Ember--together with a message artfully worded to fix her interest without +giving comfort to the enemy, should it chance to go astray, the adventurer +hesitated by the desk; and of a sudden was satisfied that such a move would +be not only injudicious but waste of time; for, now that he paused to think +of it, he surmised that the young woman--"young and good-looking", on +Walker's word--who had called to see Colonel Stanistreet was none other +than this same Cecelia Brooke. + +What more natural than that she should make early occasion to consult the +head of the British Secret Service in America? + +A pity he had not waited there in the window! If he had, no doubt the +mystery with which the girl had surrounded herself would be no more mystery +to Lanyard; he would have learned the secret of that paper cylinder as well +as the part the girl had played in the intrigue for its possession, and so +be the better advised as to his own future conduct. + +But in his insensate passion for revenge upon one who had all but murdered +him, he had forgotten all else but the moment's specious opportunity. + +With a grunt of impatience Lanyard turned away from the desk, and came face +to face with Crane. + +The Secret Service man was coming from the direction of the bar in company +with Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier. + +Of the three last named but one looked Lanyard's way, O'Reilly, and his +gaze, resting transiently on the countenance of Andre Duchemin minus the +Duchemin beard, passed on without perceptible glimmer of recognition. + +Why not? Why should it enter his head that one lived and had anticipated +his own arrival in New York by twenty hours whom be believed to be buried +many fathoms deep off Nantucket? + +As for Crane, his cool gray, humorous eyes, half-hooded with their heavy +lids, favoured Lanyard with casual regard and never a tremor of interest +or surprise; but as he passed his right eye closed deliberately and with a +significance not to be ignored. + +To this Lanyard responded only with a look of blankest amaze. + +Chatting with an air of subdued self-congratulation pardonable in such +as have come safe to land through many dangers of the deep, the quartet +strolled round the desk and boarded one of the elevators. + +Not till its gate had closed did Lanyard stir. Then he went away from there +with all haste and cunning at his command. + +The route through the cafe to Broadway offered the speediest and least +conspicuous of exits. From the side door of the hotel he plunged directly +into the mouth of the Subway kiosk and, chance favouring him, managed to +purchase a ticket and board a southbound local train an instant before its +doors ground shut. + +Believing Crane would take the next elevator down, once he had seen the +others safely in their rooms, Lanyard was content to let him find the lobby +destitute of ghosts, to let him fume and wonder and think himself perhaps +mistaken. + +The last thing he desired was entanglement with the American Secret +Service. For Crane he entertained personal respect and temperate liking, +thought the man socially an amusing creature, professionally a deadly peril +to one who had a feud to pursue. + +Leaving the train at Grand Central, the adventurer passed through the back +ways of the Terminus, into the Hotel Biltmore, upstairs to its lobby, +thence out by the Vanderbilt Avenue entrance, walking through Forty-fourth +Street to Fifth Avenue, where he chartered a taxicab, gave the address +of his lodgings, and lay back in the corner of its seat satisfied he had +successfully eluded pursuit and very, very grateful to the Subway system +for the facilities it afforded fugitives like himself through its warren of +underground passages. + +One thing troubled him, however, without respite: the Brooke girl was on +his conscience. To her he owed an accounting of his stewardship of that +trust which she had reposed in him. It was intolerable in his understanding +that she should be permitted to go one unnecessary hour in ignorance of the +truth about that business--the truth, that is, as far as he himself knew +it. + +If through Crane or in some unforseeable fashion she were to learn that +Andre Duchemin lived, she would think him faithless. If she knew that +Duchemin had been one with Michael Lanyard, the Lone Wolf, she would not be +surprised. But that, too, was intolerable; even the Lone Wolf had his code +of honour. + +Again, if she remained in ignorance of the fact that Lanyard had escaped +drowning, she would continue to believe her secret at the bottom of the sea +with him; whereas, in the hands of the enemy, in the possession of "Karl" +and his, confederates, it was potentially Heaven only knew how dangerous a +weapon. + +Abruptly Lanyard reflected that at least one doubt had been eliminated by +that encounter in the Knickerbocker. It was barely possible that "Karl" had +gone to the bar on entering and added himself to Crane's party, but it +was hardly creditable in Lanyard's consideration. He was convinced that, +whether or not Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier were parties to the Hun +conspiracy, none of these was "Karl." + +As for the Brooke matter, he felt it incumbent upon him immediately to find +some safe means of communicating with the girl. She could be trusted not to +betray him to the police, however much she might at first incline to doubt +him. But he would persuade her of his sincerity, never fear! + +The telephone offered one solution of his difficulty, an agency +non-committal enough, provided one were at pains not to call from one's +private station, to which the call might be traced back. + +With this in mind he stopped and dismissed his taxicab at Fifty-seventh +Street and Sixth Avenue, and availed himself of a coin-box telephone booth +in the corner druggist's. + +The experience that followed was nothing out of the ordinary. Lanyard, +connected with the Knickerbocker promptly, with the customary expenditure +of patience laboriously spelled out the name B-r-double-o-k-e, and was told +to hold the wire. + +Several minutes later he began to agitate the receiver hook and was +eventually rewarded with the advice that the Knickerbocker operator, being +informed his party was in the rest'runt, was having her paged. + +Still later the central operator told him his five minutes was up and +consented to continue the connection only on deposit of an additional +nickel. + +Eventually, in sequel to more abuse of the hook, he received this response +from the Knickerbocker switchboard: "Wait a min'te, can't you? Here's your +party." + +Lanyard was surprised at the eagerness with which he cried: "Hello!" + +A click answered, and a bland voice which was not the voice he had expected +to hear: "Hello? That you, Jack?" + +He said wearily: "I am waiting to speak with Miss Cecelia Brooke." + +"Oh, then there _must_ be some mistake. This is Miss _Crooke_ speaking." + +Lanyard uttered a strangled "Sorry!" and hung up, abandoning further effort +as hopeless. + +That matter would have to stand over till morning. + +Time now pressed: it was nearly eleven; he had a rendezvous with Destiny to +keep at midnight, and meant to be more than punctual. + +Walking to his apartment house, he proceeded to establish an alibi by +entering through the public hallway and registering with the telephone +attendant a call for seven o'clock the next morning. + +In the course of the next half hour Lanyard let himself quietly out of the +private door, slipped around the block and boarded a Riverside Drive bus. + +Alighting at Ninety-third Street, he walked two blocks north on the Drive, +turned east, and without misadventure admitted himself a second time to the +Stanistreet garden. + + + + +XIV + +DEFAMATION + + +It was hardly possible to watch Mr. Blensop functioning in his vocational +capacity without reflecting on that cruel injustice which Nature only too +often practises upon her offspring in secreting most praiseworthy qualities +within fleshy envelopes of hopelessly frivolous cast. + +The flowing gestures of this young man, his fluting accents, poetic eyes, +and modestly ingratiating moustache, the preciosity of his taste in dress, +assorted singularly with an austere devotion to duty rare if unaffected. + +Beyond question, whether or not naturally a man of studious and +conscientious temper, Mr. Blensop figured to admiration in the role of such +an one. + +Seated, the shaded lamplight an aureole for his fair young head, he wrought +industriously with a beautiful gold-mounted fountain pen for fully five +minutes after Lanyard had stolen into the draped recess of the French +window, pausing only now and again to take a fresh sheet of paper or +consult one of the sheaves of documents that lay before him. + +At length, however, he hesitated with pen lifted and abstracted gaze +focussed upon vacancy, shook a bewildered head, and rose, moving directly +toward the windows. + +For as long as thirty breathless seconds Lanyard remained in doubt; there +was the barest chance that in his preoccupation Blensop might pass through +to the garden without noticing that dark figure flattened against the +inswung half of the window, in the dense shadow of the portiere. Otherwise +the game was altogether up; Lanyard could see no way to avoid the necessity +of staggering Blensop with a blow, racing for freedom, abandoning utterly +further effort to learn the motive of "Karl's" impersonation of Duchemin. + +He gathered himself together, waited poised in readiness for any +eventuality--and blessed his lucky stars to find his apprehensions idle. + +Three paces from the windows, Mr. Blensop made it plain that he was after +all not minded to stroll in the garden. Pausing, he swung a high-backed +wing chair round to face the corner of the room, switched on a reading +lamp, sat down and selected a volume of some work of reference from the +well-stocked book shelves. + +For several minutes, seated within arm's length of the trespasser, he +studied intently, then with a cluck of satisfaction replaced the volume, +extinguished the light, and went back to his writing. + +But presently he checked with a vexed little exclamation, shook his pen +impatiently, and fixed it with a frown of pained reproach. + +But that did no good. The cussedness of the inanimate was strong in this +pen: since its reservoir was quite empty it mulishly refused more service +without refilling. + +With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Blensop found a filler in one of the desk +drawers, and unscrewed the nib of the pen. + +This accomplished, he paused, listened for a moment with head cocked +intelligently to one side, dropped the dismembered implement, and got up +alertly. At the same moment the door to the hallway opened, and two women +entered, apparently sisters: one a lady of mature and distinguished charm, +the other an equally prepossessing creature much her junior, the one +strongly animated with intelligent interest in life, the other a listless +prey to habitual ennui. + +To these fluttered Mr. Blensop, offering to relieve them of their wraps. + +"Permit me, Mrs. Arden," he addressed the elder woman, who tolerated him +dispassionately. "And Mrs. Stanistreet ... I say, aren't you a bit late?" + +"Frightfully," assented Mrs. Stanistreet in a weary voice. "It must be all +of midnight." + +"Hardly that, Adele," said Mrs. Arden with a humorous glance. + +"Dinner, the play, supper, and home before twelve!" commented Blensop, +shocked. "I say, that is going some, you know." + +"George would insist on hurrying home," the young wife complained. +"Frightfully tiresome. We were so comfy at the Ritz, too...." + +"The Crystal Room?" Dissembled envy poisoned Blensop's accents. + +"Frightfully interestin'--everybody was there. I did so want to +dance--missed you, Arthur." + +"I say, you didn't, did you, really?" + +"Poor Mr. Blensop!" Mrs. Arden interjected with just a hint of malice. +"What a pity you must be chained down by inexorable duty, while we fly +round and amuse ourselves." + +"I must not complain," Blensop stated with humility becoming in a dutiful +martyr, a pose which he saw fit quickly to discard as another man came +briskly into the room. "Ah, good evening, Colonel Stanistreet." + +"Evening, Blensop." + +With a brusque nod, Colonel Stanistreet went straightway to the desk, +stopping there to take up and examine the work upon which his secretary had +been engaged: a gentleman considerably older than his wife, of grave and +sturdy cast, with the habit of standing solidly on his feet and giving +undivided attention to the matter in hand. + +"Anything of consequence turned up?" he enquired abstractedly, running +through the sheets of pen-blackened paper. + +"Three persons called," Blensop admitted discreetly. "One returns at +midnight." + +Stanistreet threw him a keen look. "Eh!" he said, making swift inference, +and turned to his wife and sister-in-law. "It is nearly twelve now. Forgive +me if I hurry you off." + +"Patience," said Mrs. Arden indulgently. "Not for worlds would I hinder +your weighty affairs, dear old thing, but I sleep more sound o' nights when +I know my trinkets are locked up securely in your safe." + +With a graceful gesture she unfastened a magnificent necklace and deposited +it on the desk. + +"Frightful rot," her sister commented from the doorway. "As if anybody +would dare break in here." + +"Why not?" Mrs. Arden enquired calmly, stripping her fingers of their +rings. + +"With a watchman patrolling the grounds all night--" + +"Letty is sensible," Stanistreet interrupted. "Howson's faithful enough, +and these American police dependable, but second-storey men happen in the +best-guarded neighbourhoods. Be advised, Adele: leave your things here with +Letty's." + +"No fear," his wife returned coolly. "Too frightfully weird...." + +She drifted across the threshold, then hesitated, a pretty figure of +disdainful discontent. + +"But really, Colonel Stanistreet is right," Blensop interposed vivaciously. +"What do you imagine I heard to-night? The Lone Wolf is in America!" + +"What is that you say?" Mrs. Arden demanded sharply. + +"The Lone Wolf ... Fact. Have it on most excellent authority." + +"The Lone Wolf!" Mrs. Stanistreet drawled. "If you ask me, I think the Lone +Wolf nothing in the world but a scapegoat for police stupidity." + +"You wouldn't say that," Mrs. Arden retorted, "if you had lived in Paris as +long as I. There, in the dear old days, we paid that rogue too heavy a tax +not to believe in him." + +"Frightful nonsense," insisted the other. "I'm off. 'Night, Arthur. Shall +you be long, George?" + +"Oh, half an hour or so," her husband responded absently as she +disappeared. + +With a little gesture consigning her jewellery, heaped upon the desk, to +the care of her brother-in-law, Mrs. Arden uttered good-nights and followed +her sister. + +Blensop bowed her out respectfully, shut the door and returned to the desk. + +"What's this about the Lone Wolf?" Stanistreet enquired, sitting down to +con the papers more intently. + +"Oh!" Blensop laughed lightly. "I was merely repeating the blighter's own +assertion. I mean to say, he boasted he was the Lone Wolf." + +"Who boasted he was the Lone Wolf?" + +"Chap who called to-night, giving the name of Duchemin--Andre Duchemin. Had +French passports, and letters from the Home Office recommending him rather +highly. Useful creature, one would fancy, with his knowledge of the right +way to go about the wrong thing. What? Ought to be especially helpful to us +in hunting down the Hun over here." + +"Is this the man who returns at midnight?" + +"Yes, sir. I thought it best to make the appointment." + +"Why?" + +"He said he had crossed on the _Assyrian_, said it significantly, you know. +I fancied he might be the person you have been expecting." + +Stanistreet looked up with a frown. "Hardly," he said--"if, that is, he is +really what he claims to be. I wonder how he came by those letters." + +"Does seem odd, doesn't it, sir? A confessed criminal!" + +"An extraordinary man, by all accounts.... Those other callers--?" + +"Nobody of importance, I should say. A man who gave his name as Ember and +got a bit shirty when I asked his business. Told him you might consent to +see him at nine in the morning." + +"And the other?" + +"A young woman--deuced pretty girl--also reticent. What was her name? +Brooke--that was it: Cecelia Brooke." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet exclaimed, dropping the papers. "What did you say +to her?" + +"What could I say, sir? She refused to divulge a word about her business +with us. I told her--" + +Warned by a gesture from Colonel Stanistreet, Blensop broke off. Walker was +opening the door. + +"Well, Walker?" + +"A Mr. Duchemin, sir, says Mr. Blensop made an appointment with you for +twelve to-night." + +"Show him in, please." + +The footman shut himself out. Blensop clutched nervously at Mrs. Arden's +jewels. + +"Hadn't I better put these in the safe first?" + +"No--no time." Stanistreet opened a drawer of the desk--"Here!"--and closed +it as Blensop hastily swept the jewellery into it. "Safe enough there--as +long as he doesn't know, at all events. But don't forget to put them away +after he goes." + +"No, sir." + +Again the door opened. Walker announced: "Mr. Duchemin." Stanistreet rose +in his place. A man strode in with the assurance of one who has discounted +a cordial welcome. + +Through the gap which he had quietly created between the portiere and the +side of the window, Lanyard stared hungrily, and for the second time that +night damned heartily the inadequate light in the library. + +The impostor's face, barely distinguishable in the up-thrown penumbra +of the lampshade, wore a beard--a rather thick, dark beard of negligent +abundance, after a mode popular among Frenchmen--above which his features +were an indefinite blur. + +Lanyard endeavoured with ill success to identify the fellow by his +carriage; there was a perceptible suggestion of a military strut, but that +is something hardly to be termed distinctive in these days. Otherwise, he +was tall, quite as tall as Lanyard, and had much the same character of +body, slender and lithe. + +But he was "Karl" beyond question, confederate and murderer of Baron von +Harden, the man who had thrown the light bomb to signal the U-boat, +the brute with whom Lanyard had struggled on the boat deck of the +_Assyrian_--though the latter, in the confusion of that struggle, had +thought the German's beard a masking handkerchief of black silk. + +Now by that same token he was no member of that smoking-room coterie upon +which Lanyard's suspicions had centered. + +On the other hand, any number of passengers had worn beards, not a few of +much the same mode as that sported by this nonchalant fraud. + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits to aid a laggard memory, haunted by a +feeling that he ought to know this man instantly, even in so poor a light. +Something in his habit, something in that insouciance which so narrowly +escaped insolence, was at once strongly reminiscent and provokingly +elusive.... + +Pausing a little ways within the room, the fellow clicked heels and bowed +punctiliously in Continental fashion, from the hips. + +"Colonel Stanistreet, I believe," he said in a sonorous voice--"Karl's" +unmistakable voice--"chief of the American bureau of the British Secret +Service?" + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet," that gentleman admitted. "And you, sir--?" + +"I have adopted the name of Andre Duchemin," the impostor stated. "With +permission I retain it." + +Colonel Stanistreet inclined his head slightly. "As you will. Pray be +seated." + +He dropped back into his chair, while "Karl" with a murmur of +acknowledgment again took the armchair on the far side of the desk, where +the lamp stood between him and the secret watcher. + +"My secretary tells me you have letters of introduction...." + +"Here." Calmly "Karl" produced and offered those purloined papers. + +"You will smoke?" Stanistreet indicated a cigarette-box and leaned back to +glance through the letters. + +During a brief pause Blensop busied himself with collecting together the +documents which had occupied him and began reassorting them, while "Karl," +helping himself to a cigarette, smoked with manifest enjoyment. + +"These seem to be in order," Stanistreet observed. "I note from this code +letter that your true name is Michael Lanyard, you were once a professional +French thief known as 'The Lone Wolf', but have since displayed every +indication of desire to reform your ways, and have been of considerable +use to the Intelligence Office. I am desired to employ your services in my +discretion, contingent--pardon me--upon your continued good behaviour." + +"Precisely," assented "Karl." + +"Proceed, Monsieur Duchemin." + +"It is an affair of some delicacy.... Do we speak alone, Colonel +Stanistreet?" + +"Mr. Blensop is my confidential secretary...." + +"Oh, no objection. Still--if I may venture the suggestion--those windows +open upon a garden, I take it?" + +"Yes. Blensop, be good enough to close the windows." + +"Certainly, sir." + +Stepping delicately, Blensop moved toward the end of the room. + +Again Lanyard was confronted with the alternatives of incontinent flight or +attempting to remain undetected through the adoption of an expedient of the +most desperate audacity. He had prepared against such contingency, he did +not mean to go; but the feasibility of his contemplated manoeuvre depended +entirely upon chance, its success in any event was forlornly problematic. + +"Karl" remained hidden from him by the lamp, so he from "Karl." Colonel +Stanistreet, facing his caller, sat half turned away from the windows. +Everything rested with Blensop's choice, which of the two windows he would +elect first to close. + +A right-handed man, he turned, as Lanyard had foreseen, to the right, and +momentarily disappeared in the recess of the farther window. + +In the same instant Lanyard slipped noiselessly from behind the portiere, +and dropped into that capacious wing chair which Blensop had thoughtfully +placed for him some time since. + +Thus seated, making himself as small and still as possible, he was wholly +concealed from all other occupants of the library but Blensop; and even +this last was little likely to discover him. + +He did not. He closed and latched the farther window, then that wherein +Lanyard had lurked, and ambled back into the room with never a glance +toward that shadowed corner which held the wing chair. + +And Lanyard drew a deep breath, if a quiet one. Behind him the conversation +had continued without break. It was true, he could see nothing; but he +could hear all that was said, he had missed no syllable, and now every +second was informing him to his profit.... + +"Your secretary, no doubt, has told you I am a survivor of the _Assyrian_ +disaster." + +"Yes...." + +"You were, I believe, expecting a certain communication of extraordinary +character by the _Assyrian_, to be brought, that is, by an agent of the +British Secret Service." + +After an almost imperceptible pause Stanistreet said evenly: "It is +possible." + +"A communication, in fact, of such character that it was impossible to +entrust it to the mails or to cable transmission, even in code." + +"And if so, sir...?" + +"And you are aware that, of the two gentlemen entrusted with the care of +this document, one was drowned when the _Assyrian_ went down, and the other +so seriously injured that he has not yet recovered consciousness, but +was transferred directly from the pier to a hospital when the _Saratoga_ +docked." + +"What then, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet," said the impostor deliberately, "I have that +communication. I will ask you not to question me too closely as to how it +came into my possession. I have it: that is sufficient." + +"If you possess any document which you conceive to be so valuable to the +British Government, monsieur, and consequently to the Allied cause, I have +every confidence in your intention to deliver it to me without delay." + +A note of mild derision crept into the accents of "Karl." + +"I have every intention of so doing, my dear sir.... But you must +appreciate I have incurred considerable personal danger, hardship, and +inconvenience in taking good care of this document, in seeing that it did +not fall into the wrong hands; in short, in bringing it safely here to you +to-night." + +A slightly longer pause prefaced Stanistreet's reply, something which +he delivered in measured tones: "I am able to promise you the British +Government will show due appreciation of your disinterested services, +Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"Not disinterested--not that!" the cheat protested. "Gentlemen of my +kidney, sir, seldom put themselves out except in lively anticipation of +favours to come." + +"Be good enough to make yourself more clear." + +"Cheerfully. I possess this document. I understand its character is such +that Germany would pay a round price for it. But I am a good patriot. In +spite of the fact that nobody knew I possessed it, in spite of the fact +that I need only have quietly taken it to Seventy-ninth Street to-night--" + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" Stanistreet's voice was icy. "Your price?" + +"Sorry you feel that way about it," said "Karl" with ill-concealed +insincerity. "You must know thieving is no more what it once was. Even I, +too, often am put to it to make both ends--" + +"If you please, sir--how much?" + +"Ten thousand dollars." + +Silence greeted this demand, a lull that to Lanyard seemed endless. For in +his fury he was trembling so that he feared lest his agitation betray him. +The very walls before his eyes seemed to quake in sympathy. He was aware of +the ache of swollen veins in his temples, his teeth hurt with the pressure +put upon them, his breath came heavily, and his nails were digging +painfully into his palms. + +"Blensop?" + +"Sir?" + +"How much have we on hand, in the emergency fund?" + +"Between ten and twelve thousand dollars, sir." + +"Intuition, monsieur, is an indispensable item in the equipment of a +successful _chevalier d'Industrie_. So, at least, the good novelists tell +us...." + +"Open the safe, Blensop, and fetch me ten thousand dollars." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I presume you won't object to satisfying me that you really have this +document, before I pay you your price." + +"It is this which makes it a pleasure to deal with an Englishman, monsieur: +one may safely trust his word of honour." + +"Indeed...." + +"Permit me: here is the document. Use that magnifying glass I see by your +elbow, monsieur; take your time, satisfy yourself." + +"Thanks; I mean to." + +Another break in the dialogue, during which the eavesdropper heard an +odd sound, a sort of muffled swishing ending in a slight thud, then the +peculiar metallic whine of a combination dial rapidly manipulated, finally +the dull clank of bolts falling back into their sockets. + +"Your _coffre-fort_--what do you say?--strong-box--safe--is cleverly +concealed, Colonel Stanistreet." + +There was no direct reply, but after a moment Stanistreet announced +quietly: "This seems to be an authentic paper.... Monsieur Duchemin, what +knowledge precisely have you of the nature of this document?" + +"Surely monsieur cannot have overlooked the circumstance that its seals +were intact." + +"True," Stanistreet admitted. "Still...." + +"I trust Monsieur does not question my good faith?" + +"Why not?" Stanistreet enquired drily. + +"Monsieur!" + +"Oh, damn your play-acting, sir! If you can be capable of one infamy, you +are capable of more. None the less, you are right about an Englishman's +word: here is your money. Count it and--get out!" + +"Thanks"--the impostor's tone was an impertinently exact imitation of +Stanistreet's--"I mean to." + +"Permit me to excuse myself," Stanistreet added; and Lanyard heard the +muffled scrape of chair-legs on the rug as the Englishman got up. + +"Gladly," the spy returned--"and ten thousand thanks, monsieur!" + +The secretary intoned melodiously: "This way, Monsieur Duchemin, if you +please." + +"Pardon. Is it material which way I leave?" + +"What do you mean?" Stanistreet demanded. + +"I should be far easier in my mind if monsieur would permit me to go by way +of his garden, rather than run the risk of his front door." + +"What's this?" + +"In these little affairs, monsieur, I try to make it a rule to avoid +covering the same ground twice." + +"You have the insolence to imply I would lend myself to treachery!" + +"I beg monsieur's pardon very truly for suggesting such a thing. +Nevertheless, one cannot well be overcautious when one is a hunted man." + +"Blensop ... be good enough to see this man out through the garden." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Again, monsieur, my thanks." + +"Good-night," said Stanistreet curtly. + +Blensop passed Lanyard's chair, unlatched and opened the window and stood +aside. An instant later "Karl" joined him, swung on a heel, facing back, +clicked heels again and bowed mockingly. Apparently he got no response, for +he laughed quietly, then turned and went out through the window, Blensop +mincing after. + +With a struggle Lanyard mastered the temptation to dash after the spy, +overtake and overpower him, expose and give him up to justice. Only the +knowledge that by remaining quiescent, by biding his time, he might be +enabled to redeem his word to the Brooke girl, gave him strength to be +still. + +But he suffered exquisitely, maddened by the defamation imposed upon his +nick-name of a thief by this brazen impostor. + +Nor was wounded _amour-propre_ mended by an exclamation in the room behind +his chair, the accents of Colonel Stanistreet thick with contempt: + +"The Lone Wolf! Faugh!" + + + + +XV + +RECOGNITION + + +Presently Blensop came back, closed the window, and passed blindly by +Lanyard, his reappearance saluted by Stanistreet in tones that shook with +contained temper. + +"You saw that animal outside the walls?" + +Mildly injured surprise was indicated in the reply: "Surely, sir!" + +"And locked the door after him?" + +"Yes, sir--securely." + +"Howson anywhere about?" + +"I didn't see him. Daresay he's prowling somewhere within call. Do you wish +to speak to him?" + +"No.... But you might, if you see anything of him, tell him to keep an +extra eye open to-night. I don't trust this self-styled Lone Wolf." + +"Naturally not, sir, under the circumstances." + +Stanistreet acknowledged this with an irritated snort. "No matter," he +thought aloud; "if it has cost us a pretty penny, we have got this safe in +hand at last. I've not had too much sleep, I can promise you, since the +report came through of Bartholomew's death and Thackeray's disablement. +Nor am I satisfied that this Monsieur Duchemin came by the document +fairly--confound his impudence! If he hadn't put me on honour, tacitly, I'd +not hesitate an instant about informing the police." + +"Rather chancy course to take in this business, what?" + +"I don't know.... That Yankee invention known as the 'frame-up' would +easily make America too small for the Lone Wolf without the British Secret +Service ever being mentioned in the matter." + +"Yes; but suppose the beast knows the contents of this paper, suspects +the authorship of the 'frame-up'--as he instinctively would--and blabs? +Messages have been unsealed and copied and resealed before this." + +"That one consideration ties my hands.... Here, my boy: take this and +put it in the safe--and don't forget Mrs. Arden's things, of course. +Good-night." + +"Trust me, sir. Good-night." + +A door closed with a slight jar, and for half a minute the room was so +positively quiet that Lanyard was beginning to wonder if Blensop himself +had gone out with his employer, when he heard a low and musical chuckle, +followed by a soft clashing as the secretary scooped Mrs. Arden's jewellery +out of the desk drawer. + +Itching with curiosity, Lanyard turned with infinite care and peered round +the wing of the chair, thus gaining a view of the wall farthest from the +street. + +Blensop remaining invisible, Lanyard's interest centred immediately upon +the safe the ingenuity of whose concealment had excited "Karl's" favourable +comment, and with much excuse. + +One of the portraits--that upon whose merits Blensop had descanted to +"Karl" earlier in the night--was, Lanyard saw, so mounted upon a solid +panel of wood that, by means of hidden mechanism, it could be moved +sidelong from its frame, uncovering the face of a safe built into the wall. + +This last now stood open, its door, swung out toward Lanyard, showing +a simple arrangement of dials and locks with which he was on terms of +contemptuous familiarity; only the veriest tyro of a cracksman would want +more than a good ear and a subtle sense of touch in order to open it +without knowledge of the combination. + +With all its reputation for efficiency and astuteness the British Secret +Service entrusted its mysteries to an antiquated contraption such as this! + +Humming a blithe little air, Blensop moved into Lanyard's field of vision +and stopped between him and the safe, deftly pigeonholing therein the +docketed papers and Mrs. Arden's jewels. Then, closing the door, he shot +its bolts, gave the dial a brisk twirl, located a lever in the side of the +frame and thrust it into its socket. + +With the same swish and thud which had puzzled Lanyard at first hearing, +the portrait slipped back into place. + +Rounding on a heel, Blensop paused, head to one side, a slight frown +shadowing his bland countenance, and stood briefly rooted in some +perplexity of obscure origin. Twice he shook a peevish head, then smiled +radiantly and brought his hands together in an audible clap. + +"I have it!" he cried in delight and, dancing briskly toward the desk, once +more disappeared. + +Now what was this which Mr. Blensop so spontaneously had, and from the +having of which he derived so much apparently innocent enjoyment? Wanting +an answer, Lanyard settled back in disgust, then sat sharply forward, gaze +riveted to the near sash of the adjacent window. + +In showing "Karl" out, Blensop had moved the portieres, exposing more +glass than previously had been visible. Now this mirrored darkly to the +adventurer a somewhat distorted vision of Blensop standing over the +desk, seemingly employed in no more amusing occupation than filling his +fountain-pen. But undoubtedly he was in the highest spirits; for the lilt +of his humming rose sweet and clear and ever louder. + +To this accompaniment he pocketed his pen, two-stepped to the windows, +drew the portieres jealously close, returned to the desk, switched off the +reading lamp, and left the room completely dark but for a dim glow from the +ash-filmed embers of the fire. + +But before he went out the secretary interrupted his humming to laugh +with a mischievous elan which completely confounded Lanyard. He was not +unacquainted with the Blensop type, but the secret glee which seemed to +animate this specimen was something far beyond his comprehension. + +As the door softly closed Lanyard moved silently across the room and bent +an ear to its panels, meanwhile drawing over his hands a pair of thin white +kid gloves. + +From beyond came no sound other than a faint creaking of stair-treads +quickly silenced. + +Opening the door, Lanyard peered out, finding the hallway deserted and +dimly lighted by a single bulb of little candle-power at its far end, then +scouted out as far as the foot of the stairs, listened there for a little, +hearing no sounds above, and reconnoitred through the other living rooms, +at length returning to the library persuaded he was alone on the ground +floor of the house. + +A Yale lock was fixed to the library side of the door. Lanyard released its +catch, insuring freedom from interruption on the part of anybody who lacked +the key, crossed to the other side door, left this on the latch and, having +thus provided an avenue for escape, turned attention to business, in brief, +to the safe. + +Turning on the picture-light he found and operated the lever, with his +other hand so restraining the action of the panel that it moved aside +without perceptible jar. + +Then with an ear to that smooth, cold face of enamelled steel, he began +to manipulate the combination. From within the door a succession of soft +clicks and knocks punctuated the muted whine of the dial, speaking +a language only too intelligible to the trained hearing of a thief; +synchronous breaks and resistance in the action of the dial conveyed +additional information through the medium of supersensitive finger tips. +Within two minutes he had learned all he needed to know, and standing back +twirled the knob right and left with a confident hand. At its fourth stop +he heard the dull bump of released tumblers, grasped the handle, and +twisted it strongly. The door swung open. + +Systematically Lanyard searched the pigeonholes, emptying all but one, +examining minutely their contents without finding that slender roll of +paper. + +Mystified, he hesitated. The thing, of course, was somewhere there, only +hidden more cunningly than he had hoped. It was possible, even probable, +that Blensop had stowed the cylinder away in a secret compartment. + +But the interior arrangement was disconcertingly simple. Lanyard saw no +sign of waste space in which such a drawer might be secreted. Unless, to be +sure, one of the pigeonholes had a false back.... + +He began a fresh examination, again emptying each pigeonhole and sounding +its rear wall without result till there remained only that in which Blensop +had placed the Arden jewels. + +It was necessary to move these, but Lanyard long withheld his hand, +reluctant to touch them, for that same reason which had influenced him to +avoid them in his first search. + +Jewels such as these he both worshipped and desired with the passionate +adoration of connoisseur and lover in one. He feared violently the +temptation of physical contact with such stuff. + +For his was no thief's errand to-night, but a matter, as he conceived +it, of his private honour, something apart and distinct from the code of +rogue's ethics which guided his professional activities. He had pledged +his word to Cecelia Brooke to keep safe for her that cylinder of paper, to +return it upon her demand for whatsoever disposition she might choose to +make of it. It was no concern of his what that choice might turn out to +be, any more than it was his affair if the document were a paper of +international importance. But she must and should, if act of his could +compass it, be given opportunity to redeem her word of honour if, as one +believed, that likewise were involved in the fate of the document. + +He had stolen into this house like a thief because he had given his pledge +and perforce had been made false to that pledge, because he had been +despoiled of the concrete evidence of the trust reposed unasked in him, and +because he had learned that his spoiler was to meet Stanistreet in this +room at midnight. + +He was here solely to make good his word, to take away that cylinder, could +he find it, and to return it to the girl ... not to thieve.... + +Never that!... + +Slowly, reluctantly, inevitably he put forth his hand and selected from +among those brilliant symbols of his soul's profound damnation the +necklace, a rope of diamonds consummately matched, a rivulet of frozen +fire, no single stone less lovely than another. + +"Admirable!" he whispered. "Oh, admirable!" + +Hesitant to do this thing which to him, by the strange standard of his +warped code, spelled dishonour, he would and he would not; and while he +paltered, was visited by an oddly vivid memory of the clear and candid eyes +of Cecelia Brooke, seemed veritably to see them searching his own with +their look of grieving wonder ... the eyes of one woman who had reckoned +him worthy of her trust.... + +Almost he won victory in this fight he was foredoomed to lose. Under the +level and steadfast regard of those eyes his hand went out to replace the +necklace, moved unsteadily, faltered.... + +Beyond the windows an incautious footfall sounded. In the darkness out +there someone blundered into a piece of wicker furniture and disturbed it +with a small scraping sound, all but inaudible, but to the thief as loud as +the blast of a police whistle. + +Instantly and instinctively, in two simultaneous gestures, Lanyard dropped +the necklace into an inner pocket of his coat and switched off the +picture-light. + +With hands now as steady and sure as they had been vacillant a moment +since, he closed the safe door noiselessly, shot its bolts, and was yards +away, crouching behind an armchair, before the man outside had ceased to +fumble with the window fastenings. + +If this were the watchman Howson, doubtless he would be satisfied with +finding the room dark and apparently untenanted, and would go off upon his +rounds unsuspecting. If he did not, or if he noticed the displaced panel, +then would come Lanyard's time to break cover and run for it. + +With a faint creak one of the windows swung inward. Curtain-rings clashed +dully on their poles. Someone came through the portieres and paused, +pulling them together behind him. The beam of an electric flash-lamp lanced +the gloom and its spotlight danced erratically round the walls. + +Now there was no more thought of flight in Lanyard's humour, but rather a +firm determination to stand his ground. This was no night watchman, but a +housebreaker, one with no more title to trespass upon those premises than +himself; and at that an unskilled hand at such work, the rawest of amateurs +practising methods as clumsy and childish as any actor playing at burglary +on a stage before a simple-minded audience. + +The noise he made on entering alone proved that, then this fatuous business +with the flash-lamp. And as he moved inward from the windows it became +evident that he had not even had the wit to close the portieres completely; +a violet glimmer of starlight shone in through a deep triangular gap +between them at the top. + +For all that, the intruder seemed to know what he wanted and where to seek +it, betrayed a nice acquaintance with the room, proceeding directly to the +safe picked out by his lamp. + +Arrived beneath it he uttered a low sound which might have been interpreted +as surprise due to finding the panel already out of place. If so, surprise +evidently roused in him no suspicion that all might not be well. On the +contrary, he quite calmly located and turned the switch controlling the +picture-light. + +Immediately, as its rays gushed down and disclosed the man, Lanyard +rose boldly from his place in hiding. Now there was no more need for +concealment; now was his enemy delivered into his hands. + +The man was "Karl." + +His back to Lanyard, unconscious of that one's catlike approach, the spy +put up his flash-lamp, searched in a waistcoat pocket and produced a slip +of paper, and bent his face close to the combination dial, studying its +figures; but abruptly, like a startled animal, whirled round to face the +windows. + +One of the sashes was thrown back roughly, and a figure clad in the gray +livery of a private watchman parted the portieres and entered the library. + +"Everything all right in here, Mr. Blensop?" + +Lanyard saw the sheen of blue steel in the hands of "Karl," and leaped too +late: even as he fell upon the spy's shoulders, the pistol exploded. + +The watchman reeled back with a choking cry, caught wildly at the +portieres, and dragged them down with him as he fell. + +His screams of agony made hideous the night. And the second cry was no more +than uttered when Lanyard, even in the heat of his struggle, heard sounds +indicating that already the household was alarmed. + +But the door would hold for a while; it was not probable that the first to +come downstairs would think to bring with him the key. Time enough to +think of escape when Lanyard had settled his score with this one: no light +undertaking; not only was the score a long one, longer than Lanyard then +dreamed, but, as he had learned to his cost, the man was an antagonist of +skill and strength not to be despised. + +Nevertheless, aided by the surprise of his onslaught, Lanyard succeeded +in disarming the spy, forcing him to drop the pistol at the outset, and +through attacking from behind had him at a further disadvantage. For all +that he found his hands full till, by a trick of jiu-jitsu, he wrenched one +of the fellow's arms behind him so roughly as almost to dislocate it at the +shoulder and, forcing the forearm up toward his shoulder blades, held him +temporarily helpless. + +"Be still, you murderous canaille!" he growled--"or must I tear your arm +from its socket? Still, I say!" + +"Karl" uttered a grunt of pain and ceased to struggle. + +Pinning him against the bookcase, Lanyard hastily rifled his pockets, at +the first dip bringing forth a thin sheaf of American bank-notes with the +figures $1000 conspicuous on the uppermost. + +"Ten thousand dollars," he said grimly--"precisely my fee for the use of my +name--to say nothing of its abuse!" + +A torrent of untranslatable German blasphemy answered him. Intelligible was +the half-frantic demand: "Who the devil are you?" + +"Take a look, assassin--see for yourself!" Lanyard twisted the spy around +to face him, holding him helpless against the wall with a knee in his +middle and a hand gripping his throat inexorably. "Do you know me now--the +man you thought you'd drowned a hundred fathoms deep?" + +Blows thundered on the hallway door. Neither heeded. The spy was staring +into Lanyard's face, his eyes starting with horror and affright. + +"Lanyard!" he gasped. "Good God! will you never die?" + +"Never by your hand--" Lanyard began, but stopped sharply. + +For a moment he glared incredulously, and in that moment knew his enemy. + +"Ekstrom!" he cried; and the man at his mercy winced and quailed. + +The din in the hallway grew louder. Voices cried out for the key. Somebody +threw himself against the door so heavily that it shook. + +The emergency forced itself upon Lanyard's consciousness, would not be +denied. Its dilemma seemed calculated to unseat his reason. If he lingered, +he was lost. Either he must grant this creature new lease of life, or be +caught and pay the penalty of murder for an execution as surely just as any +in the history of mankind. + +It was bitter, too bitter to have come to this his hour so long desired, so +long deferred, so arduously sought, and have the fruits of it snatched from +his craving grasp. + +He could not bring himself to this renunciation; slowly his fingers +tightened on the other's throat. + +Driven to desperation by the light of madness that began to flicker in +Lanyard's eyes, the Prussian abruptly put all he had of might and fury into +one final effort, threw Lanyard off, and in turn attacked him, fighting +like a lunatic for footroom, for space enough to turn and make for the +windows. + +In spite of all he could do Lanyard saw the man work away from the wall and +manoeuvre his back toward the windows; then he flew at him with redoubled +fury, driving home blow after blow that beat down Ekstrom's guard and sent +him staggering helplessly, till an uppercut, swinging in under his uplifted +forearms, put an end to the combat. Ekstrom shot backward half a dozen +feet, stumbled over the prostrate body of the watchman, and crashed +headlong into the windows, going down in a shower of shattered glass. + +In one and the same instant Lanyard darted back and dropped upon his knees +in the shadow of the club lounge, and the door to the hallway slammed open. +A knot of men, to the number of half a dozen, tumbling into the library, +saw that figure floundering amid the ruins of the window, and made for it, +passing on the other side of the lounge, between it and the fireplace. + +Unseen, Lanyard rose, ran crouching across the room; found the side door, +opened it just far enough to permit the passage of his body, and drew it to +behind him. + +Ninety-fifth Street was a lonely lane of midnight quiet. He sped across it +like the shadow of a cloud wind-hunted. + + + + +XVI + +AU PRINTEMPS + + +In those days New York nights were long; this was still young when Lanyard +sauntered sedately from a side street and stopped on a corner of Broadway +in the Nineties; he had not long to wait ere a southbound taxicab hove in +sight and sheered over to the curb in answer to his signal. + +It was still something short of one o'clock when he was set down at his +door. + +Wearily he let himself in by the private entrance, made a light, and +without troubling even to discard his overcoat threw himself into a chair. +Leaden depression weighed down his heart, and the flavour of failure was +as aloes in his mouth. Thrice within an hour he had fallen short of his +promises, to Cecelia Brooke, to himself, to his _idee fixe_. His three +chances, to redeem his word to the girl, to measure up to his queer +criterion of honour, to rid his world of Ekstrom, all had slipped through +fingers seemingly too infirm to profit by them. + +He felt of a sudden old; old, and tired, and lonely. + +The uses of his world, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable! What was +his life? An emptiness. Himself? A shuttlecock, the helpless sport of +his own failings, a vain thing alternately strutting and stumbling, now +swaggering in the guise of an avenger self-appointed, now sneaking in the +shameful habiliments of a felon self-condemned. + +What had prevented his dealing out to Ekstrom the punishment he had so well +earned? That insatiable lust for loot of his. But for that damning evidence +against him of the stolen necklace in his pocket he might have had his will +of Ekstrom, and justified himself when discovered by proving that he had +merely done justice to a thief who sold what he had stolen and stole back +to steal again what he had sold. + +Self-contempt attacked self-conceit like an acid. He saw Michael Lanyard +a sorry figure, sitting stultified with self-pity ... crying over spilt +milk.... + +Impatiently he shook himself. What though he had to-night forfeited his +chances? He could, nay, would, make others. He must.... + +To what end? Would life be sweeter if one found a way to restore to Cecelia +Brooke her precious document and to smuggle back to Mrs. Arden her pilfered +diamonds? Would this deadly ache of loneliness be less poignant with +Ekstrom dead? + +With lack-lustre eyes he looked round that cheerless room, reckoning its +perfunctory pretense of comfort the forlornest mockery. To lodgings such as +this he was condemned for life, to an interminable sequence of transient +quarters, sordid or splendid, rich or mean, alike in this common quality of +hollow loneliness.... + +His aimless gaze wandered toward the door opening on the public hallway, +and became fixed upon a triangular shape of white paper, the half of an +envelope tucked between door and sill. + +Presently he rose and got the thing, not until he touched it quite +persuaded he was not the victim of an optical hallucination. + +A square envelope of creamy paper, it was superscribed simply in a hand +strange to him, _Anthony Ember, Esq_., with the address of his apartment +house. + +Tearing the envelope he found within a double sheet of plain notepaper +bearing a message of five words penned hastily: + + "_Au Printemps_-- + "_one o'clock_-- + "_Please_!" + +Nothing else, not another word or pen-scratch.... + +Opening the door Lanyard hailed the hall-attendant, a sleepy and not +over-intelligent negro. + +"When did this come for me?" + +"'Bout anour ago, Mistuh Embuh." + +"Who brought it?" + +"A messenger boy done fotch it, suh--look lak th' same boy." + +"What same boy?" + +"Same as come in when you do, 'bout 'leven o'clock--remembuh?" + +Lanyard nodded, recalling that on his way up the street from Sixth Avenue +he had been subconsciously irritated by the shrill, untuneful whistling of +a loutish youth in Western Union uniform, who had followed him into the +house and become engaged in some minor altercation with the attendants +while Lanyard was unlocking the door to his apartment. + +"What of him?" + +"Why, he bulge in heah an' say we done send a call, an' we tell him we don' +know nuffin' 'bout no call, an' he sweah an' carry on, an' aftuh you done +gone in he ast whut is yo' name, an' somebody tell him an' he go away. An' +then 'bout haffanour aftuhwuds he come back with that theah lettuh--say to +stick it undeh yo' do, ef yo' ain't home. Leastways he look to me lak th' +same boy. Ah dunno fo' suah." + +Repeated efforts failing to extract more enlightenment from this source, +Lanyard again shut himself in with the puzzle. + +Somebody had set a messenger boy to dog him and find out his name and +address. Not Crane: Lanyard had seen that one disappear in the elevator of +the Knickerbocker and had thereafter moved too quickly to permit of Crane's +returning to the lobby, calling a messenger boy, and pointing out Lanyard. + +For that matter, Lanyard was prepared to swear nobody had followed him from +the Knickerbocker to the Biltmore. + +Vaguely he seemed to recall a first impression of the boy at the time when +he emerged from the drug store after his unprofitable effort to telephone +Cecelia Brooke, an indefinite memory of a shambling figure with nose +flattened against the druggist's window, apparently fascinated by the +display of a catch-penny corn cure. + +Was there a link between that circumstance and the long delay which Lanyard +had suffered in the telephone booth? Had the Knickerbocker operator been +less stupid and negligent than she seemed? Was the truth of the matter that +Crane had surmised Lanyard would attempt communication with the Brooke girl +and had set a watch on the switchboard for the call? + +Assuming that the Secret Service man had been clever enough for that, +it was not difficult to understand that Lanyard had purposely been kept +dangling at the other end of the wire till the call could be traced back to +its source and a messenger despatched from the nearest Western Union office +with instructions to follow the man who left the booth, and report his name +and local habitation. + +Sharp work, if these inferences were reasonable. And, satisfied that +they were, Lanyard inclined to accord increased respect to the detective +abilities of the American. + +But this note, this hurried, unsigned scrawl of five unintelligible words: +what the deuce did it mean? + +On the evidence of the handwriting a woman had penned it. Cecelia Brooke? +Who else? Crane might well have been taken into her confidence, subsequent +to the sinking of the _Assyrian_, and on discovering that Lanyard had +survived have used this means of relieving the girl's distress of mind. + +But its significance?... "Au Printemps" translated literally meant "in the +springtime," and "in the springtime at one o'clock" was mere gibberish, +incomprehensible. There is in Paris a department store calling itself "Au +Printemps"; but surely no one was suggesting to Lanyard in New York a +rendezvous in Paris! + +Nevertheless that "Please!" intrigued with a note at once pleading and +imperative which decided Lanyard to answer it without delay, in person. + +"_Au Printemps--one o'clock--please_!" + +Upon the screen of memory there flashed a blurred vision of an electric +sign emblazoning the phrase, "Au Printemps," against the facade of a +building with windows all blind and dark save those of the street level, +which glowed pink with light filtered through silken hangings; a building +which Lanyard had already passed thrice that night without, in the +preoccupation of his purpose, paying it any heed; a building on Broadway +somewhere above Columbus Circle, if he were not mistaken. + +Already it was one o'clock. Fortunately he was still in evening dress, and +needed only to change collar and tie to repair the disarray caused by his +encounter with Ekstrom. + +In two minutes he was once more in the street. + +Within five a cab deposited him in front of the Restaurant Au Printemps, an +institution of midnight New York whose title for distinction resided mainly +in the fact that it opened its upper floors for the diversion of "members" +about the time when others put up their shutters. + +Lanyard's advent occurred at the height of its traffic. The dining rooms on +the street level were closed and unlighted: but men and women in pairs +and parties were streaming across the sidewalk from an endless chain of +motor-cars and being ground through the revolving doors like grist in the +hopper of an unhallowed mill, the men all in evening dress, the women in +garments whose insolence outrivalled the most Byzantine nights of L'Abbaye +Theleme. + +Drawn in with the current through the turnstile door, Lanyard found himself +in an absurdly little lobby thronged to suffocation, largely with people +of the half-world--here and there a few celebrities, here and there small +tight clusters of respectabilities making a brave show of feeling at +ease--all waiting their turn to be lifted to delectable regions aloft in an +elevator barely big enough to serve in a private residence. + +For a moment Lanyard lingered unnoticed on the outskirts of this +assemblage, searching its pretty faces for the prettier face he had come to +find and wondering that she should have chosen for her purpose with him a +resort of this character. His memory of her was sweet with the clean smell +of the sea; there was incongruity to spare in this atmosphere heady with +the odours of wine, flesh, scent, and tobacco. Perplexing.... + +A harpy with a painted leer and predacious eyes pounced upon him, tore away +his hat and coat, gave him a numbered slip of pasteboard by presenting +which he would be permitted to ransom his property on extortionate terms. + +And still he saw no Cecelia Brooke, though his aloof attitude coupled with +an intent but impersonal inspection of every feminine face within his +radius of vision earned him more than one smile at once furtively +provocative and unwelcome. + +By degrees the crowd emptied itself into the toy elevator--such of it, that +is, as was passed by a committee on membership consisting of one chubby, +bearded gentleman with the look of a French diplomatist, the empressement +of a head waiter and the authority of the Angel with the Flaming Sword. +_Personae non gratae_ to the management--inexplicably so in most +instances--were civilly requested to produce membership cards and, upon +failure to comply, were inexorably rejected, and departed strangely +shamefaced. Others of acceptable aspect were permitted to mingle with +the upper circles of the elect without being required to prove their +"membership." + +In the person of this suave but inflexible arbiter Lanyard identified a +former maitre d'hotel of the Carlton who had abruptly and discreetly fled +London soon after the outbreak of war. + +He fancied that this one knew him and was sedulous both to keep him in the +corner of his eye and never to meet his regard directly. + +And once he saw the man speak covertly with the elevator attendant, +guarding his lips with a hand, and suspected that he was the subject of +their communication. + +The lobby was still comfortably filled, a constant trickle of arrivals +replacing in measure the losses by election and rejection, when Lanyard, +watching the revolving doors, saw Cecelia Brooke coming in. + +She was alone, at least momentarily; and in his sight very creditably +turned out, remembering that all her luggage must have been lost with the +_Assyrian_. But what Englishwoman of her caste ever permitted herself to be +visible after nightfall except in an evening gown of some sort, even though +a shabby sort? Not that Miss Brooke to-night was shabbily attired: she was +much otherwise; from some mysterious source of wardrobe she had conjured +wraps, furs, and a dancing frock as fresh and becoming as it was, oddly +enough, not immodest. And with whatever cares preying upon her secret mind, +she entered with the light step and bright countenance of any girl of her +age embarked upon a lark. + +All that was changed at sight of Lanyard. + +He bowed formally at a moment when her glance, resting on him, seemed about +to wander on; instead it became fixed in recognition. Instantly her smile +was erased, her features stiffened, her eyes widened, her lips parted, the +colour ebbed from her cheeks. And she stopped quite still in front of the +door till lightly jostled by other arrivals. + +Then moving uncertainly toward him, she said, "Monsieur Duchemin!" not +loudly, for she was not a woman to give excuse for a scene under any +circumstances, but in a tone of complete dumbfounderment. + +Covering his own dashed contenance with a semblance of unruffled +amiability, he bowed again, now over the hand which the girl tentatively +offered, letting it rest lightly on his fingers, touching it as lightly +with his lips. + +"It is such a pleasant surprise," he said at a venture, then added +guardedly: "But my name--I thought you knew it was now Anthony Ember." + +Her eyes were blank. "I don't understand," she faltered. "I thought you ... +I never dreamed.... Is it really you?" + +"Truly," he averred, lips smiling but mind rife with suspicion and +distrust. + +This was not acting; he was convinced that her surprise was absolutely +unfeigned. + +So she had not expected to find him "Au Printemps" at one o'clock in the +morning, till that very moment had believed him as dead as any of those +poor souls who had perished with the _Assyrian_! + +Therefore that note had not come from her, therefore Lanyard had +complimented Crane without warrant, crediting him with another's +cleverness. Then whose...? + +And while Lanyard's head buzzed with these thoughts, an independent chamber +of his mind was engaged in admiring the address with which the girl was +recovering from what must have been, what plainly had been, a staggering +shock. Already she had begun to grapple with the situation, to take herself +in hand and dissemble; already her face was regaining its accustomed cast +of self-confidence, composure, and intelligent animation. Throughout she +pursued without a break the thread of conventional small talk. + +"It is a surprise," she said calmly. "Really, you are a most astonishing +person, Mr. Ember. One never knows where to look for you." + +"That is my good fortune, since it provides me with unexpected pleasures +such as this. You are with friends?" + +"With a friend," she corrected quietly--"with Mr. Crane. He stopped outside +to pay our taxi-driver. How odd it seems to find any place in the world as +much alive as this New York!" + +"It seems almost impossible," Lanyard averred--"indeed, somehow wrong. I've +a feeling one has no right to encourage so much frivolity. And yet...." + +"Yes," she responded quickly. "It is good to hear people laugh once more. +That is why Mr. Crane suggested coming here to-night, to cheer me up. He +said Au Printemps was unique, promised I'd find it most amusing." + +"I'm sure...." Lanyard began as Crane entered, breezing through the +turnstile and comprehending the situation in a glance. + +"Hello!" he cried. "Didn't I tell you everybody alive would be here?" + +Nor was Cecelia Brooke less ready. "But fancy meeting Mr. Ember here! I had +no idea he was in New York--had you?" + +"Perhaps a dim suspicion," Crane admitted with a twinkle, taking Lanyard's +hand. "Howdy, Ember? Glad to see you, gladder'n you'd think." + +"How is that?" Lanyard asked, returning the cordiality of his grasp. + +Crane's penetrating accents must have been audible in the remotest corner +of the ground-floor rooms: he made no effort to modulate them to a quieter +pitch. + +"You can help me out of a fix if you feel like it. You see, I promised Miss +Brooke if she'd take me for her guide, she'd see life to-night; and now, +just when we're going good, I've got to renig. Man I know held me up +outside, says I'm wanted down town on special business and must go. I might +be able to toddle back later, but can't bank on it. Do you mind taking over +my job?" + +"Chaperoning Miss Brooke's investigations into the seamy side of current +social history? That will be delightful." + +"Attaboy! If I'm not back in half an hour you'll see her safely home, of +course?" + +"Trust me." + +"And you'll excuse me, Miss Brooke? I hope you don't think--" + +"What I do think, Mr. Crane, is that you have been most kind to a lonely +stranger. Of course I'll excuse you, not willingly, but understanding you +must go." + +"That makes me a heap easier in my mind. But I' got to run. So it's +good-night, unless maybe I see you later. So long, Ember!" + +With a flirt of a raw-boned hand, Crane swung about, threw himself +spiritedly into the revolving door, was gone. + +"Amazing creature," Lanyard commented, laughing. + +"I think him delightful," the girl replied, surrendering her wraps to a +maid. "If all Americans are like that--" + +"Shall we go up?" + +She nodded--"Please!"--and turned with him. + +The committee on membership himself bowed them into the elevator. Several +others crowded in after them. For thirty seconds, while the car moved +slowly upward, Lanyard was free to think without interruption. + +But what to think now? That Crane, actuated by some motive occult to +Lanyard, had engineered this apparently adventitious _rencontre_ for the +purpose of throwing him and the Brooke girl together? Or, again, that Crane +was innocent of guile in this matter--that other persons unknown, causing +Lanyard to be traced to his lodgings, had framed that note to entice him to +this place to-night? In the latter event, who was conceivably responsible +but Velasco, Dressier, O'Reilly--any one of these, or all three working in +concert? The last-named had looked Lanyard squarely in the face without +sign of recognition, back there in the lobby of the Knickerbocker, +precisely as he should, if implicated in the conspiracies of the Boche; +though it might easily have been Velasco or Dressier who had recognized the +adventurer without his knowledge.... + +The car stopped, a narrow-chested door slid open, a gush of hectic light +coloured morbidly the faces of alighting passengers, a blare of syncopated +noise singularly unmusical saluted the astonished ears of Lanyard and +Cecelia Brooke. She met his gaze with a smiling _moue_ and slightly lifted +eyebrows. + +"More than we bargained for?" he laughed. "But there is always something +new in this America, I promise you. Au Printemps itself is new, at all +events did not exist when I was last in New York." + +Following her out, he paused beside the girl in a constricted space hedged +about with tables, waiting for the maitre d'hotel to seat those who had +been first to leave the elevator. + +The room, of irregular conformation, held upward of two hundred guests and +habitues seated at tables large and small and so closely set together +that waiters with difficulty navigated narrow and tortuous channels of +communication. In the middle, upon a small dancing floor, rudely octagonal +in shape, made smaller by tables crowded round its edge to accommodate the +crush, a mob of couples danced arduously, close-locked in one another's +arms, swaying in rhythm with the over-emphasized time beaten out by a +perspiring little band of musicians on a dais in a far corner, their +activities directed by an antic conductor whose lantern-jawed, sallow face +peered grotesquely out through a mop of hair as black and coarse and lush +as a horse's mane. + +Execrable ventilation or absence thereof manufactured an atmosphere that +reeked with heat animal and artificial and with ill-blended effluvia from a +hundred sources. Perhaps the odour of alcohol predominated; Lanyard thought +of a steam-heated wine-cellar. He observed nothing but champagne in any +glass, and if food were being served it was done surreptitiously. Sweat +dripped from the faces of the dancers, deep flushes discoloured all not so +heavily enamelled as to preserve an inalterable complexion, the eyes of +many stared with the fixity of hypnosis. Yet when the music ended with an +unexpected crash of discord these dancers applauded insatiably till the +jaded orchestra struck up once more, when they renewed their curious +gyrations with quenchless abandon. + +The Brooke girl caught Lanyard's eye, her lips moved. Thanks to the din, he +had to bend his head near to hear. + +She murmured with infinite expression: "Au Printemps!" + +The maitre d'hotel was plucking at his sleeve. + +"Monsieur had made reservations, no?" Startled recognition washed the man's +tired and pasty countenance. "Pardon, monsieur: this way!" He turned and +began to thread deviously between the jostling tables. + +Dubiously Lanyard followed. He likewise had known the maitre d'hotel at +sight: a beastly little decadent whose cabaret on the rue d'Antin, just off +the avenue de l'Opera, had been a famous rendezvous of international spies +till war had rendered it advisable for him to efface himself from the ken +of Paris with the same expedition and discretion which had marked the +departure from London of his confrere who now guarded the lower gateway to +these ethereal regions of Au Printemps. + +The coincidence of finding those two so closely associated worked with the +riddle of that note further to trouble Lanyard's mind. + +Was he to believe Au Printemps the legitimate successor in America of that +less pretentious establishment on the rue d'Antin, an overseas headquarters +for Secret Service agents of the Central Powers? + +He began to regret heartily, not so much that he had presented himself in +answer to that note, but the responsibility which now devolved upon him of +caring for Miss Brooke. Much as he had wished to see her an hour ago, now +he would willingly be rid of her company. + +Why had he been lured to this place, if its character were truly what he +feared? Conceivably because he was believed--since it now appeared he had +cheated death--still to possess either that desired document or knowledge +of its whereabouts. + +Naturally the enemy would not think otherwise. He must not forget that +Ekstrom was playing double; as yet none but Lanyard knew he had stolen the +document and done a murder to cover the theft from his associates and leave +him free to sell to England without exciting their suspicion. + +Consequently, Lanyard believed, he had been invited to this place to +be sounded, to be tempted, bribed, intimidated--if need be, and +possible--somehow to be won over to the uses of the Prussian spy system. + +Leading them to the farther side of the room, the maitre d'hotel paused +bowing and mowing beside a large table already in the possession of a party +of three. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. One of the three was Velasco, another a young man +unknown to him, a mannerly little creature who might have been written by +the author of "What the Man Will Wear" in the theatre programmes. The third +was Sophie Weringrode, the Wilhelmstrasse agent whom he had only that +afternoon observed entering the house in Seventy-ninth Street. + +He stopped short, in a cold rage. Till that moment a mirror-sheathed pillar +had hidden from him Velasco and the Weringrode; else Lanyard had refused +to come so far; for obviously there were no unreserved tables, indeed few +vacant chairs, in that part of the room. + +Not that he minded the cynical barefacedness of the dodge; that was indeed +amusing; he was sanguine as to his ability to dominate any situation that +might arise, and to a degree indifferent if the upshot should prove his +confidence misplaced; and he did not in the least object to letting the +enemy show his cards. But he did enormously resent what was, after all, +something quite outside the calculations of these giddy conspirators, the +fact that he must either beat incontinent retreat or introduce Cecelia +Brooke to the company of Sophie Weringrode. + +His face darkened, a stinging reproof for the maitre d'hotel trembled on +his tongue's tip; but that one was busily avoiding his eye on the far side +of the table, drawing out a chair for "mademoiselle," while Velasco and the +Weringrode were alert to read Lanyard's countenance and forestall any steps +he might contemplate in defiance of their designs. + +At first glimpse of the Brooke girl Velasco jumped up and hastened to her, +with eager Latin courtesy expressing his unanticipated delight in the +prospect of her consenting to join their party. And she was suffering with +quiet graciousness his florid compliments. + +At the same time the Weringrode was greeting Lanyard in the most intimate +fashion--and damning him in the understanding of Cecelia Brooke with every +word. + +"My dear friend!" she cried gayly, extending a bedizened hand. "I had begun +to despair of you. Is it part of your system with women always to be a +little late, always to keep us wondering?" + +Schooling his features to a civil smile, Lanyard bowed over the hand. + +"In warfare such as ours, my dear Sophie," he said with meaning, "one uses +all weapons, even the most primitive, in sheer self-defense." + +The woman laughed delightedly. "I think," she said, "if you rose from the +dead at the bottom of the sea, _Tony_, it would be with wit upon your +lips.... And you have brought a friend with you? How charming!" She shifted +in her chair to face Cecelia Brooke. "I wish to know her instantly!" + +Velasco was waiting only for that opening. "Dear princess," he said, +instantly, "permit me to present Miss Cecelia Brooke ... Princess de +Alavia...." + +Completely at ease and by every indication enjoying herself hugely, the +girl bowed and took the hand the Weringrode thrust upon her. Her eyes, +a-brim with excitement and mischief, veered to Lanyard's, ignored their +warning, glanced away. + +"How do you do?" she said simply. "I didn't understand Mr. Ember expected +to meet friends here, but that only makes it the more agreeable. May we sit +down?" + + + + +XVII + +FINESSE + + +The person in the educated evening clothes was made known as Mr. Revel. +For Lanyard's benefit and his own he vacated the chair beside Sophie +Weringrode, seating himself to one side of Cecelia Brooke, who had Velasco +between her and the soi-disant princess. + +Already a waiter had placed and was filling glasses for Lanyard and the +girl. + +With the best grace he could muster the adventurer sat down, accepted +a cigarette from the Weringrode case, and with openly impertinent eyes +inspected the intrigante critically. + +She endured that ordeal well, smiling confidently, a handsome creature with +a beautiful body bewitchingly gowned. + +Time, he considered, had been kind to Sophie--time, the mysteries of the +modern toilette, and the astonishing adaptability of womankind. Splendidly +vital, like all of her sort who survive, she seemed mysteriously able to +renew that vitality through the very extravagance with which she squandered +it. She had lived much of late years, rapidly but well, had learned much, +had profited by her lessons. To-night she looked legitimately the princess +of her pretensions; the manner of the grande dame suited her type; her +gesture was as impeccable as her taste; prettier than ever, she seemed at +worst little more than half her age. + +And her quick intelligence mocked the privacy of his reflections. + +"Fair, fast, and forty," she interpreted smilingly. + +He pretended to be stunned. "Never!" he protested feebly. + +The woman reaffirmed in a series of rapid nods. "Have I ever had secrets +from you? You are too quick for me, monsieur: I do not intend to begin +deceiving you at this late day--or trying to." + +"Flattery," he declared, "is meat and drink to me. Tell me more." + +She laughed lightly. "Thank you, no; vanity is unbecoming in men; I do not +care to make you vain." + +Aware that Cecelia Brooke was listening all the while she seemed to be +enchanted with the patter of Mr. Revel and the less vapid observations of +Velasco, Lanyard sought to shunt personalities from himself. + +"And now a princess!" + +"Did you not know I had married? Yes, a princess of Spain--and with a +castle there, if you must know." + +"Quite a change of atmosphere from Berlin," he remarked. "But it has done +you no perceptible harm." + +That won him a black look. "Oh, Berlin!" she said with contemptuous lips. +"I haven't been there since the beginning of the war. I wish never to see +the place again. True: I was born an Austrian; but is that any reason why I +should love Germany?" + +She leaned forward, her fan gently tapping the knuckles of his hand. + +"Pay less attention to me," she insisted, with a nod toward the middle of +the room. "You are missing something. Me, I never tire of her." + +The floor had been cleared. A drummer on the dais was sounding the +long-roll crescendo. At the culminating crash the lights were everywhere +darkened save for an orange-coloured spot-light set in the ceiling +immediately above the dancing floor. Into that circular field of torrid +glare bounded a woman wearing little more than an abbreviated kirtle of +grass strands with a few festoons of artificial flowers. Applause roared +out to her, the orchestra sounded the opening bars of an Americanised +Hawaiian melody, the woman with extraordinary vivacity began to perform a +denatured hula: a wild and tawny animal, superbly physical, relying with +warrant upon the stark sensuality of her body to make amends for the +censored phrases of the primitive dance. The floor resounded like a great +drum to the stamping of her bare feet, till one marvelled at such solidity +of flesh as could endure that punishment. + +Sophie Weringrode lounged negligently upon the table, bringing her head +near Lanyard's shoulder. + +"Play fair," she said between lips that barely moved. + +Without looking round Lanyard answered in the same manner: "Why ask more +than you are prepared to give?" + +"The police ran you out of America once. We need only publish the fact that +Mr. Anthony Ember is the Lone Wolf...." + +"Well?" + +"Leave Berlin out of it before this girl." + +Lanyard shrugged and laughed quietly. "What else?" + +"We can't talk now. Ask me for the next dance." + +The woman sat back in her chair, attentive to the posturing of the dancer, +slowly fanning herself. + +Lanyard's semblance of as much interest was nothing more; furtively his +watchfulness alternated between two quarters of the room. + +On the farther edge of the circle of tropical radiance he had marked down a +table at which two men were seated, Dressier and O'Reilly. No more question +now as to the personnel of the conspiracy; even Velasco had thrown off +the mask. The enemy had come boldly into the open, indicating a sense of +impudent assurance, indicating even more, contempt of opposition. No +longer afraid, they no longer skulked in shadows. Lanyard experienced a +premonition of events impending. + +In addition he was keeping an eye on the door to the elevator shaft. Once +already it had opened, letting a bright window into the farther wall of the +shadowed room, discovering the figure of the maitre d'hotel in silhouette, +anxiety in his attitude. He was waiting for somebody, waiting tensely. So +were the others waiting, all that crew and their fellow workers scattered +among the guests. Lanyard told himself he could guess for whom. + +Only Ekstrom was wanting to complete the circle. When he appeared--if by +chance he should--things ought to begin to happen. + +If tolerably satisfied that Ekstrom would not come--not that night, at all +events--Lanyard, none the less, continued to be jealously heedful of that +doorway. + +But the hula came to an end without either his vigilance or the impatience +of the maitre d'hotel being rewarded. Writhing with serpentine grace to the +edge of the illuminated area, the dancer leaped back into darkness and the +folds of a wrap held by a maid, in which garment she was seen, bowing and +laughing, when the lights again blazed up. + +Without ceasing to play, changing only the time of the tune, the orchestra +swung into a fox-trot. Lanyard glanced across the table to see Cecelia +Brooke rising in response to the invitation of dapper Mr. Revel. + +In his turn, he rose with Sophie Weringrode. "Be patient with me," +he begged. "It is long since I danced to music more frivolous than a +cannonade." + +"But it is simple," the woman promised--"simple, at least, to one who can +dance as you could in the old days. Just follow me till you catch the step. +It doesn't matter, anyway; I desire only the opportunity to converse." + +Yielding to his arms, she shifted into French when next she spoke. + +"You do admirably, my friend. Never again depreciate your dancing. If you +knew how one suffers at the feet of these Americans--!" + +"Excellent!" he said. "Now that is settled: what is it you are instructed +to propose to me?" + +She laughed softly. "Always direct! Truly you would never shine as a secret +agent." + +"Not as they shine," Lanyard countered--"in the dark." + +"Don't be a fraud. We are what we are, and so are you. Let us not begin to +be censorious of one another's methods of winning a living." + +"Agreed. But when do we begin to talk business?" + +"Why do you continue so persistently antagonistic?" + +"I am French." + +"That is silly. You are an outlaw, a man without a country. Why not change +all that?" + +"And how does one effect miracles?" + +"Germany offers you a refuge, security, freedom to ply your trade +unhindered--within reasonable limits." + +"And in exchange what do I give?" + +"Your services, as and when required, in our service." + +"Beginning when?" + +"To-night." + +"With what specific performance?" + +"We want, we must without fail have, that document you took from the Brooke +girl." + +"Perhaps we had better continue in English. You are speaking a tongue +unknown to me." + +"Don't talk rot. You know well what I mean. We know you have the thing. +You didn't steal it to turn it over to England or the States. What is your +price to Germany?" + +"Whatever you have in mind, believe me when I say I have nothing to sell to +the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"But what else can you do with it? What other market--?" + +"My dear Sophie, upon my word I haven't got what you want." + +"Then why so keen to get the Brooke girl on the telephone as soon as you +found out where she was stopping?" + +"How did you learn about that, by the way?" + +"Let the credit go to Senor Velasco. He saw you first." + +"One thought as much.... Nevertheless, I haven't what you want." + +"You gave it back to Miss Brooke?" + +"Having nothing to give her, I gave her nothing." + +The woman was silent throughout a round of the floor; then, "Tell me +something," she requested. + +"Can I keep anything from you?" + +"Are you in love with the English girl?" + +Lanyard almost lost step, then laughed the thought to derision. "What put +that into your pretty head, Sophie?" + +"Do you not know it yourself, my friend?" + +"It is absurd." + +She laughed maliciously. "Think it over. Possibly you have not stopped to +think as yet. When you know the truth yourself, you will be the better +qualified to fib about it. Also, you will not forget...." + +"What?" he demanded bluntly as she paused with intention. + +"That as long as she possesses the document--since you have it not--her +life is endangered even more than yours." + +"She hasn't got it!" Lanyard declared, as nearly in panic as he ever was. + +"Ah!" the woman jeered. "So you confess to some knowledge of it after all!" + +"My dear," he said, teasingly, "do you really want to know what has become +of that paper?" + +"I do, and mean to." + +"What if I tell you?" + +Her eyes lifted to his in childlike candour. "Need you ask?" + +"You are irresistible.... Ask Karl." + +She demanded sharply: "Whom?" + +"Ekstrom." + +"Ah!" Again the adventuress was silent for a little. "What does he know?" + +"Ask him, enquire why he murdered von Harden, then what business took him +to Ninety-fifth Street twice this evening--once about nine o'clock, again +at midnight." + +"You must be mad, monsieur. Karl would not dare...." + +"You don't know him--or have forgotten he was trained in the International +Bureau of Brussels, and there learned how to sell out both parties to a +business that won't bear publicity." + +"I wonder," the woman mused. "Never have I wholly trusted that one." + +"Shall I give you the key?" + +"If you love Karl as little as I...." + +"But where do you suppose the good man is, this night of nights?" + +"Who knows? He was not here when I arrived at midnight. I have seen nothing +of him since." + +"When you do--if he shows himself at all--look him over carefully for signs +of wear and tear." + +"Yes, monsieur? And in what respect?" + +"Look for cuts about his head and hands, possibly elsewhere. And should he +confess to an affair with a wind-shield in a motor accident, ask him what +happened to the study window in the house at Ninety-fifth Street." + +Impish glee danced in the woman's eyes. "Your handiwork, dear friend?" + +"A mere beginning.... You may tell him so, if you like." + +He was subjected to a convulsive squeeze. "Never have I felt so kindly +disposed toward an enemy!" + +"It is true, I were a better foe to Germany if I kept my counsel and let +Ekstrom continue to play double." + +The music ceasing, to be followed by the inevitable clamour for more, +Lanyard offered an arm upon which Sophie rested a detaining hand. + +"No--wait. We dance this encore. I have more to say." + +He submitted amiably, the more so since not ill-pleased with himself. And +when again they were moving round the floor, she bore more heavily upon his +shoulder and was thoughtful longer than he had expected. Then-- + +"Attention, my friend." + +"I am listening, Sophie." + +"If what you hint is true--and I do not doubt it is--Karl's day is done." + +"More nearly than he dreams," Lanyard affirmed grimly. + +"I shan't be sorry. I am German through and through; what I do, I do for +the Fatherland, and in that find absolution for many things I care not to +remember. If through what you tell me I may prove Karl traitor, I owe you +something." + +"Always it has been my fondest hope, Sophie, some day to have you in my +debt." + +Her fingers tightened on his. "Do not jest in the shadow of death. Since +you have been unwise enough to venture here to-night, you will not be +permitted to leave alive--unless you pledge yourself to us and prove your +sincerity by producing that paper." + +"That sounds reasonable--like Prussia. What next?" + +"I have warned you, so paid off my debt. The rest is your affair." + +"Do you imagine I take this seriously?" + +"It will turn out seriously for you if you do not." + +"How can I be prevented from leaving when I will, from a public +restaurant?" + +"Is it possible you don't know this place? It is maintained by the +Wilhelmstrasse. Attempt to leave it without coming to a satisfactory +understanding, and see what happens." + +"What, for instance?" + +"The lights would be out before you were half across the room. When they +went up again, the Lone Wolf would be no more, and never a soul here would +know who stabbed him or what became of the knife." + +"Are you by any chance amusing yourself at my expense?" + +Once more the woman showed him her handsome eyes: he found them frankly +grave, earnest, unwavering. + +"If you will not listen, your blood be on your own head." + +"Forgive me. I didn't mean to be rude...." + +"Still, you do not believe!" + +"You are wrong. I am merely amused." + +"If you understood, you could never mock your peril." + +"But I don't mock it. I am enchanted with it. I accept it, and it renews +my youth. This might be Paris of the days when you ran with the Pack, +Sophie--and I alone!" + +The woman moved her pretty shoulders impatiently. "I think you are either +mad or ... the very soul of courage!" + +The encore ended; they returned to the table, Sophie leaning lightly on +Lanyard's arm, chattering gay inconsequentialities. + +Dropping into her chair, she bent over toward Cecelia Brooke. + +"He dances adorably, my dear!" the intrigante declared. "But I dare say you +know that already." + +The English girl shook her head, smiling. "Not yet." + +"Then lose no time. You two should dance well together, for you are more of +a size. I think the next number will be a waltz. We get altogether too few +of them; these American dances, these one-steps and foxtrots, they are not +dances, they are mere romps, favourites none the less. And there is always +more room on the floor; so few waltz nowadays. Really, you must not miss +this opportunity." + +This playful insistence, the light stress she laid upon her suggestion that +Cecelia Brooke dance with him, considered in conjunction with her recent +admonition, impressed Lanyard as significantly inconsistent. Sophie was no +more a woman to make purposeless gestures than she was one sufficiently +wanting in finesse to signal him by pressures of her foot. There was sheer +intention in that iteration: "... _lose no time ... you must not miss this +opportunity_." Something had happened even since their dance; she had +observed something momentous, and was warning him to act quickly if he +meant to act at all. + +With unruffled amiability, amused, urbane, Lanyard bowed his petition +across the table, and was rewarded by a bright nod of promise. + +Lighting another cigarette, he lounged back, poised his wine glass +delicately, with the eye of a connoisseur appraised its pale amber tint, +touched it lightly to his lips, inhaling critically its bouquet, sipped, +and signified approval of the vintage by sipping again: all without missing +one bit of business in a scene enacted on the far side of the room, +directly behind him but reflected in a mirror panel of the wall he faced. + +The diplomatist charged with the task of discriminating the sheep from the +goats in the lower lobby had come up to confer with his colleague, the +maitre d'hotel of the upper storey. When Lanyard first saw the man he was +standing by the elevator shaft, none too patiently awaiting the attention +of the other, who, caught by inadvertence at some distance, was moving to +join him, with what speed he could manage threading the thick-set tables. + +Was this what Sophie had noticed? Had she likewise, perhaps, received some +secret signal from the guardian of the lower gateway? + +A signal possibly indicating that Ekstrom had arrived + +They met at last, those two, and discreetly confabulated, the maitre +d'hotel betraying welcome mitigation of that nervous tension which had +heretofore so palpably affected him; and, as the other stepped back into +the elevator, Lanyard saw this one's glance irresistibly attracted to the +table dedicated to the service of the Princess de Alavia. Something much +resembling satisfaction glimmered in the fellow's leaden eyes: it was +apparent that he anticipated early relief from a distasteful burden of +responsibility. + +Then, at ease in the belief that he was unobserved, he turned to a near-by +table round which four sat without the solace of feminine society--four +men whose stamp was far from reassuring despite their strikingly quiet +demeanour and inconspicuously correct investiture of evening dress. + +Two were unmistakable sons of the Fatherland; all were well set up, with +the look of men who would figure to advantage in any affair calling for +physical competence and courage, from coffee and pistols at sunrise in the +Parc aux Princes to a battle royal in a Tenderloin dive. + +Their table commanded both ways out, by the stairs and by the elevator, +much too closely for Lanyard's peace of mind. + +And more than one looked thoughtfully his way while the maitre d'hotel +hovered above them, murmuring confidentially. + +Four nods sealed an understanding with him. He strutted off with far more +manner than had been his at any time since the arrival of Lanyard, and +vented an excess of spirits by berating bitterly an unhappy clown of a +waiter for some trivial fault. + +The first bars of another dance number sang through the confusion of +voices: truly, as Sophie had foretold, a waltz. + + + + +XVIII + +DANSE MACABRE + + +Trained in the old school of the dance, Lanyard was unversed in that +graceless scamper which to-day passes as the waltz with a generation +largely too indolent or too inept of foot to learn to dance. + +His was that flowing waltz of melting rhythm, the waltz of yesterday, +that dance of dances to whose measures a civilization more sedate in its +amusements, less jealous of its time, danced, flirted, loved, and broke its +hearts. + +Into the swinging movement of that antiquated waltz Lanyard fell without +a qualm of doubt, all ignorant as he was of his benighted ignorance; and +instantly, with the ease and gracious assurance of a dancer born, Cecelia +Brooke adapted herself to his step and guidance, with rare pliancy made her +every movement exquisitely synchronous with his. + +No need to lead her, no need for more than the least of pressures upon her +yielding waist, no need for anything but absolute surrender to the magic of +the moment.... + +Effortless, like creatures of the music adrift upon its sounding tides, +they circled the floor once, twice, and again, before reluctantly Lanyard +brought himself to shatter the spell of that enchantment. + +Looking down with an apologetic smile, he asked: + +"Mademoiselle, do you know you can be an excellent actress?" + +As if in resentment the girl glanced upward sharply, with clouded eyes. + +"So can most women, in emergency." + +"I mean ... I have something serious to say; nobody must guess your +thoughts." + +She said simply: "I will do my best." + +"You must--you must appear quite charmed. Also, should you catch me +smirking like an infatuated ninny, remember I am only doing my own +indifferent best to act." + +Laughter trembled deliciously in her voice: "I promise faithfully to bear +in mind your heartlessness!" + +"I am an ass," he enunciated with the humility of conviction. "But that +can't be helped. Attend to me, if you please--and do not start. This place +turns out to be a nest of Prussian spies. I was brought here by a trick. I +understand the order is I may not leave alive." + +Playing her part so well as almost to embarrass Lanyard himself, the girl +smiled daringly into his eyes. + +"Because of that packet?" she breathed. + +"Because of that, mademoiselle." + +"Where is it?" + +For an instant Lanyard lost countenance absolutely. Through sheer good +fortune the girl was now dancing with face averted, her head so nearly +touching his shoulder that it seemed to rest upon it. + +Nevertheless, it was at cost of an heroic struggle that he fought down all +signs of that shock with which it had been borne in upon him that he dared +not assure the girl her packet was in safe hands. + +If he had failed in his efforts to restore the thing to her, that she might +consign it as she saw fit and so discharge her personal trust, till now +Lanyard had solaced himself with a hazy notion that she would in turn be +comforted when she learned the document was in the keeping of her country's +Secret Service. + +Impossible to tell her that: his own act had rendered it impossible, +that act the outcome of wilful trifling with his infirmity, his itch for +thieving. + +Of a sudden the pilfered necklace secreted in an inner pocket of his +waistcoat, above his heart, seemed to have gained the weight of so much +lead. The hideous consciousness of the thing stung like the bite of live +coals. + +This woman was in distress; he yearned to lighten her burden; he could do +that with half a dozen words; his guilt prohibited. + +A thief! + +Now indeed the Lone Wolf tasted shame and realized its bitterness.... + +Puzzled by his constraint, the girl's eyes again sought his; and warned +in time by the movement of her head, he mustered impudence to meet their +question with the look of tenderness that went with the role she suffered +him to play. + +"What is the matter?" + +"I am ashamed that I have failed you...." + +"Don't think of that. I know you did your best. Only tell me what became of +it." + +"It was stolen; when I returned to my stateroom that night I was held up +and robbed. The thief shot at me, killed his confederate, decamped by +way of the port. I pursued. Another aided him to overpower and cast me +overboard." + +"Yet you escaped...!" + +Strange she should seem more intrigued by that than concerned about her +loss! + +"I escaped, no matter how...." + +"You don't know who stole the packet?" + +"I don't recall the man among the passengers, but he may have been in one +of the boats, a fellow of about my stature, with a flowing beard...." + +He sketched broadly Ekstrom as he had seen him in the Stanistreet library. + +Her eyes quickened. + +"One such escaped in our boat, the second steward; I think his name was +Anderson." + +"Doubtless the same." + +"Then it is gone!" + +For once in his acquaintance with her, that brave spirit seemed to falter: +she became a burden, bereft for a little of all grace and spontaneity. + +He was constrained to swing her forcibly into time. + +Almost instantly she recollected herself, covered her lapse with a little +laugh innocent of any hint of its forced falsity, and showed him and the +room as well a radiant countenance: all with such address and art that the +incident might well have escaped notice, otherwise have passed for a bit of +natural by-play. + +Yet distress was too eloquent in the broken query: "What _am_ I to do?" + +Heartsick, self-sick to boot, he essayed to suggest that she consult +Colonel Stanistreet, but lacking so much effrontery, stammered and fell +silent. + +Perhaps misinterpreting, she cried in quick contrition: "I am forgetting! +Forgive me. I should have said: what are you to do?" + +He whipped his wits together. + +"Look down, turn your face aside, smile.... I have a plan, a desperate +remedy, but the best I can contrive. When next the lift comes up, we must +try to be near it. There is one row of tables which we must break through +by main force. Leave that to me, follow as I clear a way, go straight into +the lift. If anything happens, run down the stairway on the left. The +ground floor is two flights below. If I am any way detained, don't stop--go +on, get your wraps, take the first taxi you see, return directly to the +Knickerbocker. I will telephone you later." + +"If you live," she breathed. + +"Never fear for me...." + +"But if I do? Do you imagine I could rest if I thought you had sacrificed +yourself for me?" + +"You must not think that. I am far too selfish--" + +"That is not so. And I refuse positively to do as you wish unless you tell +me how I may communicate with you." + +Resigned to humour her, he recited his address and the number of the house +telephone, and when she had memorized both by iteration, resumed: + +"Once outside, if anybody tries to hinder you, don't let them intimidate +you into keeping quiet, but scream, scream at the top of your lungs. These +beasts abominate a screaming woman, or any other undue noise. Not only will +that frighten them off, but it will fetch the nearest policeman." + +The music ceased. She stood flushed, smiling, adorably pretty, eyes +star-like for him alone. + +"We are not far from the lift now," she said just audibly. + +"But the door is shut. Hush. Here comes the encore. Once more around...." + +They drifted again into that witching maze of melody and movement made one. + +"You are silent," she said, after a little. "Why?" + +Lanyard answered with a warning pressure on her hand. + +The elevator was stationary at the floor, its door wide, the maitre d'hotel +engaged in a far quarter of the room, while those four formidable guardians +of the exit were gossiping with animation over their glasses. + +"Steady. Now is our time." + +Abruptly they stopped. A couple that had been following them avoided +collision by a close margin. Over his partner's head the man scowled +portentously--and dissipated his display of temper on Lanyard's indifferent +back. + +Upon those guests who sat between the dancing floor and elevator, Lanyard +wasted no consideration. Pushing roughly between two adjoining tables, he +lifted one chair with its astonished occupant bodily out of the way, then +turned, swung an arm round the girl's waist, all but threw her through the +lane he had created, followed without an instant's pause. + +It was all so quickly accomplished that the girl was in the car before +another person in the room appreciated what was happening. And Lanyard, in +the act of slamming the door shut without heed for the protesting operator, +saw only a room full of amazed faces with gaping mouths and rounded +eyes--and one man of the four at the near-by table in the act of rising +uncertainly, with a stupefied look. + +Elbowing the boy aside, he seized the operating lever and thrust it to the +notch labelled "Descend." An instant of pause followed: like its attendant +the elevator seemed stalled in inertia of stupefaction. + +Beyond the door somebody loosed an infuriated screech. Angry hands +drummed on the glass panel. With a premonitory shudder the car started +spasmodically, moved downward at first gently, then with greater speed, +coming to an abrupt stop at the street level with a shock that all but +threw its passengers from their feet. + +Up the shaft that senseless punishment of the panel continued. Some other +intelligence conceived the notion for ringing for the car to return: its +annunciator buzzed stridently, continuously. + +Unlatching the lower door, Lanyard threw it back, stepped out, finding the +lobby deserted but for a simpering group of coat-room girls, to one of whom +he flipped a silver dollar. + +"Find this lady's wraps--be quick!" + +Deftly catching the coin, the girl snatched the check from Cecelia Brooke, +and darted into the women's dressing room. + +Throughout a wait of agonising suspense, the elevator boy remained cowering +in a corner of the car, staring at Lanyard as at some shape of terror, +while the ignored buzzer droned without cessation to persistent pressure +from above. + +Out of the dark entrance to the lower dining room the bearded diplomatist +popped with the distracted look of a jack-in-the-box about to be ravished +of its young. + +"Monsieur is not leaving?" he expostulated shrilly, darting forward. + +Lanyard stopped him with a look whose menace was like a kick. + +"I am seeing this lady to her cab," he said in a cold and level voice. + +The coat-room girl emerged from her lair with an armful of wraps and furs. + +Again the bearded one made as if to block the doorway. + +"But, monsieur--mademoiselle--!" + +Lanyard caught the fellow's arm and sent him spinning like a top. + +"Out of the way, you rat!" he snapped; then to the girl: "Be quick!" + +As she shouldered into a compartment of the revolving door incoherent yells +began to echo down the staircase well. At length it had occurred to those +above to utilize that means of descent. + +Wedged in the wheeling door, a final glimpse of the lobby showed Lanyard +the startled, putty-like mask of the maitre d'hotel at the head of +the stairway with, beyond him, the head of one who, though in shadow, +uncommonly resembled Ekstrom--but Ekstrom as he was in the old days, +without his beard. + +That picture passed like a flash on a cinema screen. + +They were on the sidewalk, and the girl was running toward a taxicab, the +only vehicle of its sort in sight, at the curb just above the entrance. + +Coatless and bareheaded, Lanyard swung to face the door porter, a towering, +brawny animal in livery, self-confident and something more than keen to +interfere; but his mouth, opening to utter some sort of protest, shut +suddenly without articulation when Lanyard displayed for his benefit a .22 +Colt's automatic. And he fell back smartly. + +Jerking open the cab door, the girl stumbled into the far corner of the +seat. The motor was churning in promising fashion, the chauffeur settling +into place at the wheel. Into his hand Lanyard thrust a ten-dollar bill. + +"The Knickerbocker," he ordered. "Stop for nobody. If followed steer for +the nearest policeman. There'll be no change." + +He closed the door sharply, leaned over it, dropped the little pistol into +the girl's lap. + +"Chances are you won't want that--but you may." + +She bent forward quickly, eyes darkly lustrous with alarm, and placed a +hand upon his arm. + +"But you?" + +"It is I whom they want, not you. I won't subject you to the hazard of my +company." + +Gently Lanyard lifted the hand from his sleeve, brushed it gallantly with +his lips, released it. + +"Good-night!" he laughed, then stepped back, waved a hand to the +chauffeur--"Go!" + +The taxicab shot away like a racing hound unleashed. With a sigh of relief +Lanyard gave himself wholly to the question of his own salvation. + +The rank of waiting motor-cars offered no hope: all but one were private +town cars and limousines, operated by liveried drivers. A solitary roadster +at the head of the line tempted and was rejected; even though it had no +guardian chauffeur, something of which he could not be sure, he would +be overhauled before he could start the motor and get the knack of its +gear-shift mechanism. Even now Au Printemps was in frantic eruption, its +doors ejecting violently a man at each wild revolution. + +Down Broadway an omnibus of the Fifth Avenue line lumbered, at no less +speed than twenty miles an hour, without passengers and sporting an +illuminated "Special" sign above the driver's seat. + +Dashing out into the roadway, Lanyard launched himself at the narrow +platform of the unwieldy vehicle and, in spite of a yell of warning from +the guard, landed safely on the step and turned to repel boarders. + +But his manoeuvre had been executed too swiftly and unexpectedly. The group +before Au Printemps huddled together in ludicrous inaction, as if stunned. +Then one raged through it, plying vicious elbows. As he paused against the +light Lanyard identified unmistakably the silhouette of Ekstrom. + +So that one had, after all, escaped the net of his own treachery! + +The 'bus guard was shaking Lanyard's arm with an ungentle hand. + +"Here, now, you got no business boardin' a Special." + +From his pocket Lanyard whipped the first bank-note his fingers +encountered. + +"Divide that with the chauffeur," he said crisply--"tell him to drive like +the devil. It's life or death with me!" + +The protruding eyeballs of the guard bore witness to the magnitude of the +bribe. + +"You're on!" he breathed hoarsely, and ran forward through the body of the +conveyance to advise the driver. + +Swarming up the curved stairway to the roof, Lanyard dropped into the rear +seat, looking back. + +The group round the doorway was recovering from its stupefaction. Three +struck off from it toward the line of waiting cars. Of these the foremost +was Ekstrom. + +Simultaneously the 'bus, lumbering drunkenly, lurched into Columbus Circle, +and the roadster left the curb carrying in addition to the driver two +passengers--Ekstrom on the running-board. + +Tardily Lanyard repented of that impulse which had moved him to bestow his +one weapon upon Cecelia Brooke. + +The night air had a biting edge. A chill rain had begun to drizzle down in +minute globules of mist, which both lent each street light its individual +nimbus of gold and dulled deceitfully the burnished asphaltum, rendering +its surface greasy and treacherous. More than once Lanyard feared lest +the 'bus skid and overturn; and before the old red brick building between +Broadway and Eighth Avenue shut out the western sector of the Circle, he +saw the roadster, driven insanely, shoot crabwise toward the curb, than +answer desperate work at the wheel and whirl madly, executing a volte-face +so violent that Ekstrom's hold was broken and he was hurled a dozen feet +away. And Lanyard's chances were measurably advanced by the delay required +in order to pick up the sprawling one, start the engine anew, and turn more +cautiously to resume the pursuit. + +Striking diagonally across Broadway the 'bus swung into Fifty-seventh +Street at the moment when the roadster turned the corner of Columbus +Circle. + +The head of the guard lifted above the edge of the roof. Clinging to the +supports of the stairway, he addressed Lanyard in accents of blended +suspicion and respect. + +"Lis'n, boss: is this all right, on the level, now?" + +"Absolutely, unless that racing-car catches up with us, in which case +you'll have a dead man--myself--on your hands." + +"Well ... we don't wanna lose our jobs, that's all." + +"You won't unless I lose my life." + +"Anything you'd like me to do?" + +"Go down, wait on the platform, if anybody attempts to get aboard kick him +in the act." + +"Sure I will!" + +The guard disappeared. + +Wallowing like a barge in a strong seaway, the omnibus crossed Seventh +Avenue and sped downhill toward Sixth with dangerous momentum. Shortly, +however, this began to be modified by the brakes, a precaution against +mishap which even the fugitive must approve. Ahead loomed the gaunt +structure of the Sixth Avenue "L," bridging the roadway at so low an +elevation as to afford the omnibus little more than clear headroom. Once +beneath it a single bounce up from the surface-car tracks must mean a +wreck. + +But the pursuit was less than half a block astern and gaining swiftly, even +as the speed of the omnibus was growing less and desperately less. + +At what seemed little better than a snail's pace it began to pass beneath +the span of the Elevated. + +Like a racing thoroughbred the roadster swept up alongside, motor chanting +triumphantly, running-board level with the platform step. + +Ekstrom, poised to leap aboard, hesitated; a pistol in his hand exploded; a +shattered window fell crashing. + +There was a yell from the guard, not of pain but of fright. Apparently he +executed a von Hindenburg retreat. Without more opposition Ekstrom gained +the platform. + +In the same breath Lanyard stood up. The lowermost girder of the "L" was +immediately overhead. He grasped it, doubled his legs beneath him, swung +clear. The omnibus shot from under him, the roadster convoying. + +Drawing himself up, he seized a round iron upright of guard-rail and heaved +his body in over the edge of the platform round the switching-tower, which +was at this hour dark and untenanted. + +In the street below a police whistle shrieked, and a fusillade of pistol +shots woke scandalised echoes. + +Bending almost double Lanyard moved rapidly northward on the footway beside +the western tracks, and so gained the old station on the west side of +Fifty-eighth Street, for years dedicated to the uses of desuetude. Through +this he crept, then down the stairs, encountering at the lower landing an +iron gate which obliged him to climb over and jump. + +Not a soul paid the least attention to this matter of a gentleman in +evening dress without hat or top coat dropping from the stairway of a +disused elevated station at two o'clock in the morning. + +In New York anything can happen, and most things do, without stirring up +meddlesome impulses in innocent bystanders. + + + + +XIX + +FORCE MAJEURE + + +This visit to his rooms was the briefest of the several Lanyard made that +night, considerations of mortal urgency dictating its drastic abbreviation. + +If the events of the last few hours had meant anything whatever they had +demonstrated two truths which shone like beacon lights: that Manhattan +Island was overpopulated as long as both he and Ekstrom remained on it; +that Ekstrom had been goaded to the verge of aberration by the discovery +that Lanyard had come safely through the _Assyrian_ debacle to take up anew +his self-appointed office of Nemesis to the Prussian spy system in general +and to the genius of its American bureau in particular. + +Henceforth that one would know no more rest while Lanyard lived. + +Thus that little street-level apartment forfeited whatever attractions it +originally had possessed in the adventurer's estimation. Not only was the +address known to Ekstrom's associates, and so open to him, but its peculiar +characteristics, its facilities for access from the street direct, rendered +it a highly practicable death-trap for a hunted man. + +Lanyard was well persuaded he need only wait there long enough to receive a +deputation from Seventy-ninth Street. And with any assurance that Ekstrom +would come alone, he might have been content to wait. Not only had he +through too intimate acquaintance with his methods every assurance that +Ekstrom would never brave alone what he could induce another to risk with +him, but Lanyard was never one willing to play the passive part. + +A banal axiom of all warfare applied: The advantage is with him who fights +upon the offensive. + +Since midnight the offensive had shifted from Lanyard's grasp to the +enemy's. He was determined to recapture it; and that was something never to +be accomplished by sitting still and waiting for events to unfold, but only +by carrying the war into the enemy's camp. + +He delayed, then, only long enough to change his clothing and to conceal +about him certain properties which it seemed unwise to expose to chance +discovery on the part of Ekstrom or in the ever-possible event of police +intervention. + +Within five minutes from the time of his return he was closing behind him +the private door. + +Wearing a quiet lounge suit but no top coat, with a hat not so soft as to +lack character but soft enough to stick upon one's head in time of action, +and carrying a stick neither brutishly stout nor ineffectively slender, +he strolled up to Seventh Avenue, turned north, entered Central Park--and +strolled no more. + +Kindly shadows enfolded him, engulfed him altogether. One minute after he +had passed through the gateway he would have defied unaided apprehension +by the most zealous officer of the peace. He went swiftly and secretly, +avoiding all lighted ways. + +Not till then did conscience stir and remind him of his slighted promise to +call up Cecelia Brooke. + +No time now for that; the errand that engaged him was of a nature to brook +no more procrastination. The girl must wait. He was sorry if, as she had +protested, solicitude for his welfare must interfere with her night's rest. +But what must be, must: until he saw the end of this adventure he could be +influenced by no minor consideration whatsoever. + +Not that he seriously believed Cecelia's sleep would be uneasy because of +him. That was too much. + +His temper was grim and skeptical. The resentment roused by the trap that +had so nearly laid him by the heels, together with the subsequent effort to +assassinate him out of hand, had settled into a phase of smouldering fury +whose heat consumed like misty vapours every lesser emotion, every humane +consideration. + +Some by-thought recalling the Weringrode's innuendo that he was in love +without his knowledge, moved him to laugh outright if strangely, an +unpleasant laugh that held as much of pain as of derision. + +What room in that dark heart of his for love?... the heart of a thief and a +potential assassin, the heart of the Lone Wolf!... + +How was he to know he had hardly left his lodgings before their hush was +interrupted by the grumble of the house telephone? + +Intermittently for upward of three minutes that sound persisted. When +at length it discontinued the quiet of the untenanted rooms reigned +undisturbed for a brief time only. + +An odd metallic stridor became audible, a succession of scrapings of +stealthy accent at the private entrance. Its latch clicked. The door swung +back against the wall with a muffled bump. Two pairs of furtive feet padded +in the little private hallway. The flash of an electric hand-lamp flickered +hither and yon like a searching poignard, picked out the door to the one +bedchamber and vanished. There was guarded whispering, then a thud as one +of the intruders gained the middle of the bedchamber in a bound. An instant +later a switch snapped, and the room was flooded with light. + +Beneath the chandelier stood a man in evening dress the worse for +misadventure, one knee of his trousers cut open, both legs caked with +a film of half-dry mud, his linen dingy with mud-stains, his top coat +shockingly bedraggled. He was bareheaded, apparently having lost his hat; a +black smear across one cheek added emphasis to the pallor of newly shaven +jowls; and his eyes were blazing. + +"Stole away!" he muttered briefly in disgust, then called: "Ed!" + +As quietly as a shadow a second man joined him, greeting him with a "Hush!" + +This gentleman was in far more presentable repair and a more equable frame +of mind. There was even a glint of amusement in his hard blue eyes. His +countenance had an Irish cast. + +"Hush?" the other iterated with contempt. "What for? The hound's not here." + +"No, Karl," Ed admitted; "but there are others in the house. If it's known +to them that Lanyard's out, they may turn in a police alarm; and I for one +have had enough of bulls for one night." + +Karl grunted disdainfully. "I told you this would be a waste of time...." + +"And I agreed with you entirely. But you would come." + +"Lanyard's no such fool as to stick round a place he knows I know about." +Karl's hands twitched and his features worked nervously. "He knows me too +well, knows that if ever I lay hands on him again--" + +His voice was rising to an hysterical pitch when the other checked him with +a sibilant hiss. At the same time his hand darted out and switched off the +light. Karl uttered a startled ejaculation. + +"_Sssh_!" his companion repeated. + +In the street a motor-car was rumbling, stationary before the door. Then +the remote grinding of the house door-bell was heard. + +"Let's get out of this," suggested the Irishman. "It's no good waiting, +anyway." + +"Hold hard! We won't go till we have a clear field." + +The Prussian stole out into the sitting room and stood listening at the +door to the public hallway, his companion standing by with a mutinous air. + +"Oh, come along!" he insisted, in a stage whisper. + +"Shut up! Listen...." + +Shuffling footfalls traversed the hallway. The front door was opened. The +clear voice of an Englishwoman was answered in the slurring patois of a +negro. + +"No'm, he ain't in." + +The next enquiry was intelligible: the speaker had entered the hallway. + +"Are you sure?" + +"Yas'm. Sumbody done call him up 'bout ten min'tes ago, an' I rung an' rung +an' he don' answer. He ain't in or he don' mean to answer nobody, tha's +all." + +"I am very anxious about him. Have you a key to his rooms?" + +"Yas'm, I got a pass-key, but--" + +"Please use it. Take this. Go in and make sure he is out, or if at home +that he is all right." + +"Yas'm, thanky ma'am, but--" + +"Do as I tell you. I will see that you don't get into trouble." + +"All right, ma'am." The negro chuckled, probably over his tip. "Yo' sho' +has got the p'suadin'est way...." + +The Irishman caught the German's arm. "Come out of this," he pleaded. + +"No fear. I'll see it through. That's the Brooke girl the fool got in with +on the boat. She may know something...." + +"But--" + +"Leave this to me. You look out for the negro. I'll take care of Miss +Cecelia Brooke." + +Swearing unhappily, the Irishman flattened against the wall to one side of +the door. Karl waited behind it as it admitted the hall attendant, who made +directly toward the central chandelier. + +"Yo' jes' wait, ma'am, an' I'll mek a light an'--" + +But the girl had impetuously followed him in. + +The light went up, and Karl put a heavy shoulder against the door, closing +it with a slam. The negro turned and stood with gaping mouth and staring +eyes, dumb with terror. The girl recognised Karl with a little cry, and +darted back toward the door. Immediately he caught her in his arms. Her +lips opened, but their utterance was stifled by a handkerchief thrust +between them with the dexterity of a practised hand. + +Without one word of warning the Irishman stepped forward and struck the +negro brutally in the face. The boy reeled, whimpering. Two more blows +delivered with murderous ferocity silenced him altogether. He collapsed +like a broken puppet, insensible on the floor, his face a curious ashen +colour beneath its glossy skin of brown. + + + + +XX + +RIPOSTE + + +The drizzle had grown thicker, the night blacker, the early morning air +still more chill. But Lanyard was moving too swiftly to be affected by +this last circumstance; the first he anathematised with the perfunctory +bitterness of a skilled artisan who sees his work in a fair way to be +obstructed by elemental depravity. Another of his trade would have termed +such weather conditions ideal, and so might the Lone Wolf on an everyday +job; but the prospect of a footing rendered insecure by rain trebled the +hazards attending a plan of campaign that would brook neither revision nor +delay. + +There was only one way to break into the house on Seventy-ninth Street; +this Lanyard had appreciated upon his first reconnaissance of the previous +afternoon. He could have wished for more time in which to prepare and +assemble tested equipment instead of relying upon chance to supply +the requisite gear; but with all time at his disposal the mechanical +difficulties of the problem would remain. Far from indifferent to these, +Lanyard addressed himself to their conquest doggedly and with businesslike +economy of motion. + +Shunning the public paths he went over the park wall like a cat, sped +across town through Eightieth Street, and so came to that plot of land upon +which an apartment building was in process of erection, immediately to the +north of the American headquarters of the Prussian spy system. + +Walled in with stone two storeys deep, its gaunt skeleton of steel had +been joined together as far as the seventh level. How much higher it was +destined to rise was immaterial; for Lanyard's purpose it was enough that +the frame had already outgrown its neighbour on the south. + +A litter of lumber, huge steel girders, and other material narrowed the +side street to half its normal width. The sidewalk space was trampled earth +roofed with heavy planks for the protection of pedestrian heads, a passage +lighted by electric bulbs widely spaced; midway in this an entrance to +the structure was flanked by a wooden shanty, by day a tool house, after +working hours a shelter for the night watchman. This boasted one glazed +window dull with orange light. + +Approaching with due precaution, Lanyard peered in. The light came from a +single electric bulb and a potbellied sheet-iron stove, glowing red. Near +by, in a chair tipped against the wall, sat the watchman, corncob pipe +in hand, head drooping, eyes closed, mouth ajar. A snore of the first +magnitude seemed to vibrate the very walls. On the floor beside the chair +stood a two-quart tin pail full of arid emptiness. + +Dismissing further consideration of the watchman as a factor, satisfied +that the entire neighbourhood as well was sound asleep, Lanyard darted up +the plank walk that led into the building, then paused to get his bearings. + +Effluvia of mortar and damp lumber saluted him in an uncanny place whose +darkness was slightly qualified by a faint refracted glow from the low +canopy of cloud and by equally dim shafts of diffused street light. There +was more or less flooring of a temporary character over a sable gulf of +cellars, and overhead a sullen, weeping sky cross-hatched with stark black +ironwork. + +With infinite patience Lanyard groped his way through that dark labyrinth +to the foot of a ladder ascending an open shaft wherein a hoisting tackle +dangled. + +Here he stumbled over what he had been seeking, a great coil of one-inch +hempen cable, from which he measured off roughly what he would require, if +his calculations were correct, and something over. This length he re-coiled +and slung over his shoulder: an awkward, weighty handicap. Nevertheless he +began to climb. + +Above the third level there was merely steel framework; he had somewhat +more light to guide him, with a view of the north wall of the Seventy-ninth +Street house, bright in the glare of avenue lamps. + +The wall was absolutely blank. + +At the seventh level the ladders ended. He stepped off upon a foot-wide +beam, paused to make sure of his poise, and began to walk the girders with +a sureness of foot any aviator might have envied. + +At regular intervals he encountered uprights: between these he had to +depend upon his sense of direction and equilibrium to guide him safely +across those narrow walks of steel made slippery by rain. + +But, thanks to forethought, his footwork was faultless: he wore shoes old, +well-broken, very soft, flexible, and silent. + +The building was in the shape of a squat E, with two courts facing south. +On this seventh level the first court was bridged by a single girder, the +middle of which was Lanyard's immediate objective. Since it lacked uprights +he took it cautiously on hands and knees until approximately equidistant +from both ends, when he straddled it, took the cable from his shoulders, +uncoiled a length and made it fast round the girder with a clove hitch: +giddy work, in that darkness, on that greasy span, fashioning by simple +sense of touch the knot upon which his life was to depend, half of the time +prone upon the girder and fishing blindly beneath it for the rope's end, +with nothing but a seventy--foot drop between him and eternity, not even +another girder to break a fall.... + +He was now immediately opposite the minaret, at an elevation of about +twenty feet above the roof he wished to reach, and as far away, or perhaps +a trifle farther. + +Still he detected no signs of life about that nest of spies: if the +wireless were in operation its apparatus was well-housed; there was no +sound of the spark, never a glimmer of its violet flash. + +Laboriously--the knot completed to his satisfaction--Lanyard returned via +the eastern arm of the E, paying out the coiled cable as he progressed, +working round to the north side of the court. + +Once again pausing opposite the minaret, he knotted the end of the cable +loosely round an upright connecting with the sixth level, let it slide +down, followed it, repeated the process, and rested finally on the fifth. + +Now his ordeal approached a climax which he contemplated with what calmness +he could while securing the rope beneath the arms. + +In another sixty seconds or less it must be demonstrated whether his dead +reckoning would set him down safe and sound on the roof or dash him against +the walls of the Seventy-ninth Street house, to swing back and dangle +impotently in mid-air till daylight and police discovered him--unless, +escaping injury, he were able to pull himself up hand over hand to the +girder. + +With one arm round the upright to prevent the sag of rope from dragging him +over prematurely, he essayed a final survey. + +Either the murk deceived or Lanyard had judged shrewdly. His feet were on +an approximate level with the coping round the roof, and he stood about as +far from the upper girder to which the rope was hitched as that was distant +from the coping. + +One look up and round at those louring skies, duskily flushed by subdued +city lights: with no more ceremony Lanyard released the upright and +committed his body to space. + +If the downward sweep was breathless, what followed was breath-taking: +once past the nadir of that giant swing, he was borne upward by an impetus +steadily and sensibly slackening. + +Instant followed leaden-winged instant while the wall, looming like +a mountainside, seemed to be toppling, insensately bent upon his +annihilation; even so his momentum, decreasing with frightful swiftness, +seemed possessed of demoniac desire to frustrate him. + +After an age-long agony of doubt it became evident he was not destined +to crash into the wall, but not that he was to gain the coping: through +fractions of a second hideously protracted this last drew near, nearer, +slowly, ever more slowly. + +And he was twisting dizzily.... + +With frantic effort he crooked an arm over the coping at a juncture when, +had he not acted instantly, he must have swung back. There was a racking +wrench, as though his arm were being torn from its socket. + +At the end of a struggle even more wearing he flung his other arm across +the ledge, and for some time hung there, at the end of an almost taut rope, +unable to overcome its resistance and pull himself in over the coping, +stubbornly refusing to loose his grasp. + +Presently, grown desperate, he let go with his right hand, holding fast +only with the left, fumbled in a pocket, found his knife, opened it with +his teeth, and began, to saw at the rope round his chest. + +Strand after strand parted grudgingly till it fell away altogether and +reaction from its tension threw him against the coping with such violence +that he all but lost his hold. Dropping the knife, he swept his right arm +up and once more hooked his fingers over the inside of the ledge. + +Far down the knife clinked suggestively upon stone. + +Breathing deep, Lanyard braced knees and feet against the wall, worried, +heaved, hauled, squirmed like a mad thing, in the end rolled over the top +and fell at length upon the roof, panting, trembling, bathed in sweat, +temporarily tormented by impulses to retch. + +By degrees regaining physical control, he sat up, took his bearings, and +crept toward the foot of the minaret. + +A small, narrow doorway in its base was on the latch. He passed through to +the landing of a dark winding stairway with a dim light at the bottom of +its circular well. + +While he stood attentive, intermittent stridor troubled the stillness, +originating at some point on the floors below: the proscribed wireless was +at work. + +Hearing no other sounds, Lanyard went on down the steps, at their foot +pausing to spy out through a half-open doorway to the topmost storey. + +Nobody moved in the corridor. He saw nothing but a line of closed doors, +presumably to servants' quarters. Now, however, the vibrant rasp of the +radio spark was perceptibly stronger and had a background of subdued noise, +echoes of distant voices, deadened sounds of hasty footfalls, now and again +a heavy thump or the bang of a door. + +Moving out, he commanded the length of the corridor. Toward one end a door +stood open. He could see no more of the room beyond than a narrow patch of +wall fitfully illuminated by a play of violet light. + +Then a man stepped out of this operating room, turning on the threshold to +utter some parting observation; and Lanyard retired hastily to the shaft of +the minaret stairway, but not before recognising Velasco. + +A moment later the Brazilian passed his lurking-place, walking with bended +head, a worried frown darkening his swarthy countenance; and Lanyard +emerged in time to see his head and shoulders vanish down a stairway at the +far end of the corridor. + +Following with discretion, Lanyard leaned over the head of the main +staircase well, looking down three flights to the ground floor, to which +Velasco was descending. + +The house seemed veritably to hum with secret and, to judge by the pitch of +its rumour, well-nigh panic activity. One divined a scurrying as of +rats about to desert a sinking ship. Untoward events had thrown this +establishment into a state of excited confusion: their nature Lanyard could +not surmise, but their conjunction with his designs was exasperatingly +inopportune. To search this place and find his man--if he were there at +all--without being discovered, while its inmates buzzed about like so many +startled hornets, was a fair impossibility; to attempt it was to court +death. + +None the less he was inflexible in determination to go on, to push his luck +to its extremity, by sheer force to bend fortuity to his service and suffer +without complaint whatever the consequences of its recoil. + +Yet even as he advanced a foot to begin the descent, he withdrew it. + +On the ground floor, a door closing with a resounding crash had proved the +signal for an outburst of expostulant, acrimonious voices: some half a +dozen men giving angry tongue at one and the same time, their roars of +polysyllabic gutturalisms fusing into utterly unintelligible clamour. + +One thought of a mutiny in a German madhouse. + +Moment after moment passed, the squall persisting with unmitigated +viciousness. If now and again it subsided momentarily, it was only into +uglier growls and swiftly to rise once more to high frenzy of incoherence. + +Two of the disputants appeared in the square frame of the staircase well, +oddly foreshortened figures brandishing wild arms, one of them Velasco, the +other a man whom Lanyard failed to identify, seemingly united in common +anger directed at the head of some person invisible. + +Abruptly, with a gesture of almost homicidal fury, the Brazilian darted out +of sight. The other followed. + +Then the object of their wrath took to the stairs, stopping at the rail +of the first landing and gesticulating savagely over the heads of his +audience, Velasco and the others returning amid a knot of fellows to bay +round the newel post. + +His voice, full-throated, cried them all down--Ekstrom's deep and resonant +voice, domineering over the uproar, hectoring one after another into sullen +silence. + +In the beginning employing nothing but terms and phrases of insolence and +objurgation untranslatable, when he had secured a measure of attention he +delivered a short address in tones of unqualified contempt. + +"I will have obedience!" he stormed. "Let no one misunderstand my status +here: I am come direct from His Majesty the Emperor with full power and +authority to command and direct affairs which you have, individually, +collectively, proved yourselves either unfit or unable to cope with. What I +do, I do in my absolute discretion, with the full sanction and confidence +of the Kaiser. He who questions my judgment or my actions, questions the +wisdom of the All-Highest. Let it be clearly understood I am answerable +to no one under God but myself and my Imperial master. Henceforth be good +enough to hold your tongues or take the consequences--and be damned to you +all!" + +Briefly he stood glowering down at their upturned faces, then sneered, and +turned away. + +"Come along, O'Reilly," he said. "Fetch the woman, and give no more heed to +swine-dogs!" + +His hand slipped up the rail to the first floor, vanished. + +If O'Reilly followed with the woman mentioned, both kept back from the rail +and so out of Lanyard's field of vision. + +The group at the foot of the stairs moved away, grumbling profanely. + +At once Lanyard began to descend, rapidly and without care to avoid +detection. + +One flight down he met face to face a manservant, evidently a footman, with +an armful of clothing which he was conveying from one chamber to another. +The fellow stopped short, jaw dropping, eyes popping; whereupon Lanyard +paused and addressed him in German with a manner of overbearing contempt, +that is to say, in character. + +"You're wanted upstairs in the radio room," he said--"at once!" + +The servant bleated one word of protest: "But--!" + +"Be silent. Do as I bid you. It is an emergency. Drop those things and go! +Do you hear, imbecile?" + +Completely cowed and cheated, the man obeyed literally, letting his burden +of garments fall to the floor and bounding hurriedly up the stairs. + +Another flight was negotiated without misadventure; on this floor as well +servants were flitting busily to and fro, but none favoured the adventurer +with the least attention. + +Midway down the third flight he pulled up to one side of the landing, and +reconnoitred. It was on the next floor below, the first above the street, +that Ekstrom had stopped. But in what quarter thereof? The exigency forbade +the risk of one false turn. If Lanyard were to take Ekstrom unawares it +must be at the first cast. + +From the ground floor came semi-coherent snatches of surly comment, like +growls of a thunderstorm passing off into the distance: + +"_At a time such as this_...." + +"... _Secret Service snapping at our heels_ ..." + +"... _base on the Vineyard discovered_ ..." + +"... _Au Printemps raided, Sophie Weringrode under arrest. God knows +whether she will hold her tongue_!" + +"_Trust her! But this ass_ ..." + +"_Bringing a woman here, putting all our necks into a halter_ ..." + +Immediately opposite the foot of the stairway, on the first storey, a door +opened. O'Reilly came alertly forth, closed the door behind him, paused, +fished in his pocket for a cigarette case, lighted and inhaled with deep +appreciation, meantime eavesdropping on the utterances below with his head +cocked to one side and a malicious smile shadowing his handsome Irish face. + +In his own good time he shrugged an indifferent shoulder, thrust his hands +into his pockets, and sauntered coolly on down the stairs. + +The moment he disappeared, Lanyard went into action, in two bounds cleared +landing and stairs, in another threw himself upon the door. It opened +readily. Entering, he put his back to it, with his left hand groped for, +found and turned a key, his right holding ready the automatic pistol he had +taken from the lockers of the U-boat. + +The room was a combination of administrative bureau and study, very +handsomely if somewhat over-decorated and furnished, with an atmosphere as +distinctively German as that of a Bierstube, the sombreness of its colour +scheme lending weight to its array of massive desks, tables, chairs, +bookcases, and lounges. + +Between great draped windows and an impressive chimney-piece opposite, +beside a broad, long desk, in a straight-backed chair sat a woman, gagged, +bound as to her wrists, strips of cloth which had but lately bound ankles +as well on the floor about her feet. + +That woman was Cecelia Brooke. + +Ekstrom stood behind her, in the act of loosening the knots which held the +gag secure. + +For a space of thirty seconds, transfixed by the apparition of his enemy, +he did not stir other than to raise weaponless hands in deference to the +pistol trained upon his head. But the blood ebbed from his face, leaving +it a ghastly mask in which shone the eyes of a man who sees certain death +closing in upon him and is powerless to combat it, even to die fighting for +life. And his lips curled back in a snarl neither of contempt nor of hatred +but of terror. + +And for as long Lanyard remained as motionless, rooted in a despondency +of thwarted hopes no less profound than the despair of the Prussian, +apprehending what that one could not yet guess, that once more, and now +certainly for the last time, vengeance was denied him, the fulfilment of +all his labours and their sole purpose snatched from his grasp. + +The instincts of a killer were not his. Barring injudicious attempt to +summon aid or take the offensive, Ekstrom was safe from injury at the hands +of Michael Lanyard. His cunning, his favour in the countenance of fortune, +or whatever it was that had enabled him to make the girl his prisoner and +bring her here, bade fair to prove his salvation. + +Deep in Lanyard's consciousness an echo stirred of half-forgotten words: +"_Vengeance is mine_...." + +The sense of frustration brewed a hopelessness as stark as that of a +brow-beaten child. A blackness seemed to be settling down upon his +faculties. A mist wavered momentarily before his eyes. He gulped +convulsively, swallowing what had almost been a sob. + +But he spoke in a voice positively dispassionate. + +"Keep your hands up." + +Lanyard removed and pocketed the key, crossed to the middle of the room +without once letting his gaze waver from the face of the Prussian, +passed behind him, planted the muzzle of the pistol beneath Ekstrom's +shoulder-blade, and methodically searched him, finding and putting aside on +the desk one automatic, nothing else. + +"Stand aside!" + +The almost puerile measure of his disappointment was betrayed in the thrust +with which he shouldered Ekstrom out of the way, so forcibly that the man +was sent staggering wildly half a dozen paces. + +"Don't move, assassin!... Pardon, mademoiselle: one moment," Lanyard +muttered, with his one free hand undoing the gag. + +He made slow work of that, fumbling while watching Ekstrom with unremitting +intentness, hoping against hope that his enemy might make one false move, +one only, by some infatuate endeavour to turn the tables excuse his +killing. + +But Ekstrom would not. Recovery of his equilibrium had been coincident with +the shock administered to his hardihood and sense of security by Lanyard's +entrance. He stood now in a pose of insouciant grace, hands idly clasped +before him, disdain glimmering in languid-lidded eyes, contempt in the set +of his lips--an ensemble eloquent of brazen effrontery, the outgrowth of +perception of the fact that Lanyard, being what he was, could neither shoot +him down in cold blood nor, with the Brooke girl present, even attempt to +injure him: compunctions unassembled in the make-up of the Boche, therefore +when discovered in men of other races at once despicable and ridiculous.... + +The gag came away. + +"Mademoiselle has not been injured?" Lanyard enquired, solicitous. + +The girl coughed and gasped, shaking her head, enunciating with difficulty +in little better than a husky whisper: "... roughly handled, nothing +worse." + +Lanyard's face burned as if his blood were molten mercury. "_Nothing +worse_!" Appreciation of what handling she must have suffered, if she had +resisted at all, before those beasts could have bound her, excited an +indignation from whose light, as it blazed in Lanyard's eyes, even Ekstrom +winced. + +The hand was tremulous with which he sought to loose her wrists, so much so +that she could not but notice. + +"Don't mind me--look to that man!" she begged. "Leave me to unfasten these +with my teeth. He can't be trusted for a single instant." + +"Mademoiselle," Lanyard mumbled, instinctively employing the French +idiom--"you have reason." + +For an instant only he hesitated, swayed this way and that by the maddest +of impulses, then resigned himself absolutely to their ascendancy. + +"This goes beyond all bounds," he said in an undertone. + +Deliberately leaving the Englishwoman to free herself according to her +suggestion--forgetful, indeed, for the moment, that she was not altogether +free--he moved to the desk and left his own automatic there beside +Ekstrom's. + +"Mademoiselle," he said mechanically, without looking at the girl, without +power to perceive aught else in the world but the white, evil face of his +enemy, "for what I am about to do, I beg you forgive me, of your charity. I +can endure no more. It is too much...." + +He strode past her. + +She twisted in her chair, then rose, following him with wide eyes of alarm +above her hands, whose bonds her teeth worried without rest. + +Ekstrom had not stirred, though one flash of pure exultation had +transfigured his countenance on comprehension of Lanyard's purpose: thanks +to the silly scruples of this animal, one more chance for life was granted +him. + +Nor would the Prussian give an inch when Lanyard paused, confronting him +squarely, within arm's length. + +"Ekstrom," the adventurer began in a voice lacking perceptible inflection +... "what is between you and me needs no recounting. You know it too +well--I likewise. It is my wish and my intention to kill you with my +two hands. Nothing can prevent that, not even what you count upon, my +reluctance--to you incomprehensible--to commit an act of violence in the +presence of a woman. But because Miss Brooke is here, because you have +brought her here by force, because you are what you are and so have treated +her insolently ... before we come to our final accounting, you shall get +down upon your knees and ask her pardon." + +He saw no yielding in the eyes of the Prussian, only arrogance; and when he +paused, he was answered in one phrase of the gutters of Berlin, couched in +the imagery of its lowest boozing-kens, so unspeakably vile in essence +and application that Lanyard heard it with an incredulity almost +stupefying--almost, not altogether. + +It was barely spoken when those lips that framed it were crushed by a blow +of such lightning delivery that, though he must have been prepared for it, +Ekstrom's guard was still lowered as he reeled back, lost footing, and went +to his knees. + +Panting, snarling, uttering teeth and blasphemy, the Prussian recoiled like +a serpent, gathered himself together and launched headlong at Lanyard, only +to be met full tilt by a second blow and a third, each more merciless than +its predecessor, beating him down once more. + +This time Lanyard did not wait for him to come back for punishment, but +closed in, catching him as he strove to rise, meeting each fresh effort +with ruthless accuracy, battering him into insanity of despair, so that +Ekstrom came back again and again without thought, animated only by +frenzied brute instinct to find the throat of his tormenter, and ever and +ever failing; till at length he crumpled and lay crushed and writhing, then +subsided into insensibility, was quite still but for heaving lungs and the +spasmodic clutchings of his broken and ensanguined fingers.... + +With a start, a broken sigh, a slight movement of the hand interpreting a +crushing sense of the futility of human passion, Lanyard relaxed, drew back +from standing over his antagonist, abstractedly found a handkerchief and +dried his hands, of a sudden so inexpressibly shamed and degraded in his +own sight that he dared not look the girl's way, but stood with hang-dog +air, avoiding her regard. + +Yet, could he have mustered up heart, he might have surprised in her eyes +a light to lift him out from this slough of humiliation, to obliterate +chagrin in a flood of wonder and--misgivings. + +When, however, he did after a moment turn to her, that look was gone, +replaced by one that reflected something of his own apprehension; for a +heavy hand was hammering on the study door, and more than one voice on the +other side was calling on "Karl" to open. + +Either the servant whom Lanyard had met and victimised on his way +downstairs had given the alarm, or else the noise of the encounter within +the study had brought that pack of spies to the door, wildly demanding +admission. + +Steadied by one swift exchange of alarmed glances with the girl, Lanyard +hastily reviewed the room, seeking some avenue of escape. None offered but +the windows. He ran to them, tore back their draperies, and found them +closed with shutters of steel and padlocked. + +Simultaneously the din at the door redoubled. + +With a worried shake Lanyard crossed to the chimney-piece, ducked his head, +and stepped into its huge fireplace. One upward glance sufficed to dash his +hopes: here was no way out, arduous though feasible; immediately above the +fireplace the flue narrowed so that not even the most active man of normal +stature might hope to negotiate its ascent. + +He returned with only a gesture of disconcertion to answer the girl's look +of appeal. + +"Can we do nothing?" she asked, raising her voice a trifle to make it heard +above the tumult in the corridor. + +"There's no help for it, I'm afraid," he said, going to the desk and taking +up the pistols--"nothing to do but shoot our way out, if we can. Take +this," he added, offering her one of the weapons, which she accepted +without spirit. "If you can't get your own consent to use it, give it to me +when I've emptied the other." + +She breathed a dismayed "Yes ..." and wonderingly consulted his face, since +he did not stir other than thoughtfully to replace his pistol on the desk, +then stood staring at his soot-smeared palms. + +"What is it?" she demanded nervously. "Why do you hesitate?" + +As one fretted by inconsequential questions, he merely shook his head, +glancing sidelong once at the unconscious Prussian, again with calculation +toward the door. + +This he saw quivering under repeated blows. + +With brusque decision he said: "Get a chair--brace it beneath the +door-knob, please!"--and leaving her without more explanation turned back +to the fireplace. + +Motionless, in dumb confusion, the girl stood staring after him till roused +by a blow of such splintering force as to suggest that an axe had been +brought into play upon the door, then ran to a ponderous club chair and +with considerable exertion managed to trundle it to the door and tip it +over, wedging its back beneath the knob. + +By this time it had become indisputably patent that an axe was battering +the panels. But the door, in character with the room, was a substantial +piece of workmanship and needed more than a few blows, even of an axe, to +break down its barrier of solid oak. + +She looked round to discover Lanyard kneeling beside Ekstrom, insanely--so +it seemed to the girl--engaged in blackening the upper half of the man's +face with a handful of soot. + +Unconsciously uttering a little cry of distress she sped to his side and +caught his shoulder with an importunate hand. + +"In Heaven's name, Monsieur Duchemin, what are you doing? Is this a time +for childishness--?" + +He responded with a smile of boyish mischief so genuine that her doubts of +his reason seemed all too well confirmed. + +"Making up my understudy," he said simply. And brushing his hands over the +rug to rid them of superfluous soot, Lanyard rose. "Please go back and +stand by the door--on the side of the hinges. I'll be with you in one +minute." + +Resigned to humour this lunatic whim--what else could she do?--the girl +retreated to the position designated, and watched with ever darker doubts +of his sanity, while Lanyard hurriedly drew the shells from his automatic +and carefully placed its butt in the slack grasp of Ekstrom's fingers. + +Then, lifting from a near-by table a great cut-glass bowl of flowers, the +adventurer inverted it over Ekstrom's body. + +Expending its full force upon the man's chest, that miniature deluge +splashed widely, wetting his face, half filling his open mouth. Some of +the soot was washed away, but not a great deal: enough stuck fast to suit +Lanyard's purpose. + +Roused by that cool shock, half strangled as well, Ekstrom coughed +violently, squirmed, spat out a mouthful of water, and lifted on an elbow, +still more than half dazed. + +Joining the girl by the door, Lanyard saw the Prussian sit up and glare +blankly round the room, a figure of tragic fun, drenched, woefully +disfigured, eyes rolling wildly in the wide spaces round them which Lanyard +had left unblackened. + +Swinging the club chair away from the door, the adventurer placed it with +its back to the room. + +"Get down behind that," he indicated shortly, and drew the key from his +pocket. "Don't show yourself for your life. And let me have that pistol, +please." + +A bright triangular wedge of steel broke through one of the panels as he +fitted and turned the key in the lock. + +His wits clearing, Ekstrom saw him and with a howl of fury staggered to his +feet, clutching the unloaded pistol and endeavouring to level it for steady +aim. + +Simultaneously Lanyard turned the knob and let the door fly open, remaining +beside the chair that hid the girl. + +A knot of spies, O'Reilly and Velasco among them, whirled into the room, +pulled up at sight of that strange, grim figure, disguised beyond all +recognition by its half-mask of black, facing and menacing them with a +pistol. + +O'Reilly fired in the next breath, his shot echoed by half a dozen so +closely bunched as to resemble the rattle of a mitrailleuse. + +At the first report the pistol dropped from Ekstrom's grasp. He carried a +hand vaguely to his throat, staggered a single step, uttered a strangled +moan, and fell forward, his body fairly riddled, his death little short of +instantaneous. + +While the fusillade was still resounding Lanyard, seizing the girl's wrist, +unceremoniously dragged her from behind the chair and thrust her through +the door, retreating after her with his face to the roomfull, his pistol +ready. + +None of that lot paid him any heed, the attention of all wholly absorbed by +the tragedy their violent hands had wrought. Velasco, the first to stir, +ran forward and dropped to his knees beside the dead man. Others followed. + +Gently Lanyard drew the door to, locked it on the outside, and at the sound +of a choking cry from Cecelia Brooke, whirled smartly round, prepared if +need be to make good his promise to clear with gun-play a way to the street +though opposed by every inmate of the establishment. + +But the first face he saw was Crane's. + +The Secret Service man stood within a yard. To him as to a rock of refuge +Cecelia Brooke had flown, to his hand she was clinging like a frightened +child, trying to speak, failing because she choked on sobs and gasps of +horror. + +Behind him, on the landing at the head of the staircase, running up from +below, ascending to the upper storeys, were a score' or more of men of +sturdy and business-like bearing and indubitably American stamp. Of +these two were herding into a corner a little group of frightened German +servants. + +Lanyard's stare of astonishment was met by Crane's twisted smile. + +"My friend," he said, as quietly as anyone could with his accent of a +quizzical buzz-saw, "I sure got to hand it to you. Every time I try to pull +anything off on the dead quiet you beat me to it clean. Everywhere I think +you ain't and can't be, that's just where you are. But I ain't complaining; +I got to admit, if you hadn't staged your act to occupy the minds of those +gents in there, we might've had a lot more difficulty raiding this joint." + +Quickly he wound an arm round the waist of Cecelia Brooke when, without +warning, she swayed blindly and would have fallen. + +"Here, now!" he protested. "That's no way to do.... Why, she's flickered +out! Well, Monsieur Duchemin-Lanyard-Ember, to a man up a tree this looks +like your job. You take this little lady off my hands and see her home, and +I'll just naturally try and finish what I started--or what you did. For, +son, I got to give you credit: you sure are one grand li'l trouble-hound!" + + + + +XXI + +QUESTION + + +Through the breathing hush of that dark hour which foreruns the dawn, that +hour in which the head that knows a wakeful pillow is prone to sudden +and disquieting apprehension of its insignificance and it's soul's dread +isolation, the cab sped swiftly south upon the Avenue, shadowed reaches of +the park upon its right, upon its left the dull, tired faces of those homes +whose tenants lay wrapped in the cotton-wool of riches. + +The rain had ceased. A little wind was blowing up. There was a fresh +smell in the air. Sidewalks began to be maculated with spreading areas of +dryness, but the roadway was still wet and shining, the wide black mirror +of a myriad lights. + +Through the windows of the speeding cab an orderly procession of street +lamps, marching past, threw each its fugitive and pallid glimmer. Periods +of modified darkness intervened, when the face of the girl in her corner +seemed a vision subtle and wraithlike. But ever the recurrent lights +revealed her sweetly incarnate if deep in enervation of crushing weariness. + +Once she stirred and sighed profoundly; and Lanyard, bending toward her, +asked if he could be in any way of service. + +She replied in an undertone scarcely better than a whisper: "Thank you, I +am quite comfortable.... Please--what time is it?" + +The cab was passing Sixtieth Street. Lanyard caught a fleeting glimpse of a +street clock with a dial like a little golden moon. + +"It's just four." + +"Thank you...." + +"Very tired?" + +"Very...." + +He had the maddest notion that her head inclined to droop toward his +shoulder. Perhaps the motion of the cab.... If so, she recovered easily. + +"Can I do anything?" + +"No, thank you, only ..." An ungloved hand stirred from her lap and for +the merest instant rested lightly above his own, or hovered rather, barely +touching it with a touch tenuous and elusive, no sooner realised than gone. +"I mean," she murmured, "I am a bit too overwrought, too tired, to talk." + +"I quite understand," he said. "Please forget I'm here; just rest." + +Perhaps she smiled drowsily. Or was that, too, a freak of his imagination? +Lanyard assured himself it was, in excess of consideration even tried to +persuade himself he had dreamed that ghost of a caress upon his hand. It +seemed so little like her. + +Not that anything had happened more than a gesture of transient +inadvertence due to fatigue. It could not have been intentional, that act +of intimacy, when the girl was altogether engrossed in young Thackeray. + +There was something one must not forget, something that gave the lie flatly +to that innuendo of the Weringrode's. Ignorant of the circumstances the +intrigante had leaped blindly at conclusions, after the habit of her kind. + +True, Sophie had not implied that this girl cared for him, but vice versa: +either supposition, however, was as absurd as the other. As if Lanyard +could love a woman who loved another! As if the name of love meant aught +to him but the memory of a sweetness like a vagrant air of Spring that had +breathed fitfully for a season upon the Winter of his heart! + +A corner of Lanyard's mouth lifted in a sneer. That precious heart of +his! the heart of a thief upon which even now the fruits of his thieving +weighed.... + +Irritated, he wrenched his thoughts into another channel, and began to +piece together inconsecutive snatches of information gained from Crane +in the confusion of the quarter hour just past, while the Secret Service +operatives were busy rounding up the inmates of that spy-fold and searching +for evidences of their impudent activities. + +It appeared that Washington had at length, however tardily, roused out of +its inertia and at midnight had telegraphed instructions to arrest out +of hand every enemy alien in the land against whom there was evidence of +conspiracy or even a ponderable suspicion. + +So unexpected was this order that Crane had volunteered to show Cecelia +Brooke that midnight rendezvous of the Prussian spy system without the +least notion that he might be required before morning to lead a raiding +force against the establishment; and even when a messenger stopped him as +he turned to enter Au Printemps, he was not advised concerning the cause of +this demand for his immediate presence at headquarters. + +The first cast of what Crane aptly termed the dragnet had brought in the +management and service staff to a man, with a number of the restaurant's +habitues, including Sophie Weringrode and her errand-boy, the exquisite Mr. +Revel. + +Velasco, however, had somehow mysteriously managed to slip through the +meshes and had straightway hastened to spread the alarm. + +As for O'Reilly and Dressier, they had left with Ekstrom in pursuit of +Lanyard less than five minutes before, and so had escaped not only arrest +but all knowledge of the raid prior to their return to Seventy-ninth +Street. + +The second cast of the net had been made at the latter place as soon as +the watchers were able to assure Crane that Ekstrom and O'Reilly had +returned--Dressier having anticipated them there by something like half an +hour. + +By daybreak, then, these gentry would be interned on Ellis Island.... + +And break of day impended visibly in grayish shades that stole westward +through the cross-town streets like clouds of secret agents spying out the +city against invasion by the serried lances of the sun. + +A garish twilight washed Forty-second Street from wall to wall by the time +the car swung round in front of the Knickerbocker. As yet, however, there +was little evidence that the town was growing restive in its sleep with +premonition of the ardour of another day. + +Lanyard stepped down and offered the girl a hand in whose palm her slender +fingers rested lightly for an instant ere she passed on, while he turned to +bid the driver wait. Following, he overtook her in the entrance, where by +tacit consent both paused and lingered in an odd constraint. There was so +much to be said that was impossible to say just then. + +Visibly the woman drooped, betraying physical exhaustion in every line of +her pose, seeming scarcely strong enough to lift the silken lashes that +trembled upon cheeks a little drawn and pale, with the faintest of bluish +rings beneath the eyes. + +"I must not keep you," Lanyard broke the silence. "I merely wished to say +good-night and ... I am sorry." + +"Sorry?" she echoed. + +"That you had such an unhappy experience," he explained--"thanks to your +thoughtfulness for me. I do not deserve so much consideration; and that +only makes me feel all the more regretful." + +"It was silly of me," she admitted with a shadowy, rueful smile. "I'm +afraid my silliness makes too much trouble...." + +He commented honestly: "I don't understand." + +"If I had only been patient enough to wait for you to call me...." + +"Forgive that oversight. I was pressed for time, as you may imagine." + +"Oh, it all comes back to my own stupidity. I might have known you had come +through all right." + +"How should you?" + +"Why not?--when you turn up here in New York safe and sound after being +drowned on the _Assyrian_!--as if that were not proof enough that you bear +a charmed life!" + +"Charmed!" he laughed. + +"And you haven't yet told me how you survived that adventure." + +"You are kind to be interested, and I am unfortunate in never seeing you +save under circumstances unfavourable for yarn-spinning." + +"You might be more fortunate." + +"Only tell me how!" + +"If you cared to ask me to dine with you to-morrow--I mean, to-night--" + +"You would--?" + +He was distressed by consciousness that his voice had thrilled impetuously. +But perhaps she had not noticed; there was no change in the even +friendliness of her tone. + +"I'm as inquisitive as any woman that ever lived. Even if I wished to, I'm +afraid I shouldn't be able to resist an invitation to hear your Odyssey." + +"Delmonico's at eight?" + +"Thank you," she said primly. + +"You make me too happy. May I call for you?" + +"Please." She offered a hand whose touch he found cool, steady, and +impersonal. "Good morning, Mr. Ember." + +He stood in a stare while she went quickly through the lobby to a waiting +elevator, then roused and went back to his cab. + +It was by daylight that he reentered his rooms and found them tenanted by +a negro boy bound and gagged, bruised and sore, and scared beyond +intelligible expression. + +Freeing him and salving his injuries bodily and spiritual with a liberal +douceur, Lanyard exacted an oath of silence, then turned him out. + +He had approximately five hours to put in somehow before his appointment +with Colonel Stanistreet at nine, and was too well versed in the lore of +late hours to think of giving any part of that time to sleep. By so doing +he would only insure a mutinous awakening, with mind and body sluggish and +unrested. If, on the other hand, he remained awake, he would go to that +interview in a state of supernormal animation exceedingly to be desired if +he were to round out this adventure without discredit. + +For its end was not yet. He had still a part to play whose lines were not +yet written, whose business remained to be invented. He neither dared +shirk that appointment, for reasons of policy, nor wished to, while there +remained reparation to be accomplished, a wrong to be righted, justice to +be done, a question to be answered. + +Only when these matters had been put in order would he feel his honour +discharged of its burdens, himself free once more to drop out and go in +peace his lonely ways in life, ways henceforth to be both lonely and +aimless. + +For, when he strove to peer into the future, only an emptiness confronted +him. With Ekstrom accounted for finally and forevermore, there was nothing +to come but the final accounting of the Lone Wolf with that civilization +which had bred and suffered him. + +One way presented itself to make that reckoning even. The Foreign Legion of +France asks no embarrassing questions of its recruits, and enlistment in +its ranks offers with anonymity a consoling certainty. + +Thus alone might he find his way home to the heart of that enigma whence he +had emerged, a nameless waif astray in grim Parisian by-ways.... + +This vision of his end contenting him, he began to scheme a campaign +for the day that was simple enough in prospect: a little chicanery with +Stanistreet, a personal appeal to Crane to restore the passports of +Monsieur Andre Duchemin which must have been found on Ekstrom's body, a +berth on some steamer sailing for Europe, then the last evanishment. + +One detail alone troubled him, his promise to the Brooke girl that she +should dine with him that night. + +Reminded of this obligation, figuratively he seized Michael Lanyard by the +scruff of his neck and shook him with a savage hand. What insensate folly +was ever his, what want of wit and strength to keep out of temptation's +ways! Why must he have fallen in so readily with her suggestion? Why this +infatuate thirst for sympathy, this eagerness to violate the seals of +reticence at the wish of a strange woman? Was there any reasonable +explanation of the strange lack of his wonted self-sufficiency in the +company of Cecelia Brooke? + +No matter. If he might not contrive somehow to squirm out of that +engagement, he could at all events school himself to decent reticence. He +promised himself to make his account of the submarine adventure drearily +bald and trite, to minimize to the last degree his part therein, above all +things to refrain from painting the Lone Wolf in romantic colours. + +She was much too good a sort, too straight, sincere, fair-minded, +honest--the sort of girl who deserved the Thackeray sort of man, never a +thief. + +If she even dreamed.... + +Lanyard brought forth from its hiding place the necklace, weighed it in +his hand, examined it minutely. Granting its marvellous perfection, he +recognized no more its beauty, dispassionately reviewed in turn each stone +of matchless loveliness, no more susceptible to their seductive purity, +perceiving in them nothing but hard, bright, translucent pebbles, cold, +soulless, cruel. + +One by one they slipped through his fingers like beads of an unholy rosary. + +At length, crushing them together in the hollow of his palm, he stood a +while in thought, then turning to his writing-desk bundled the necklace in +wrappings of white tissue secured with rubber bands, counted carefully the +sheaf of bills he had taken from Ekstrom, sealed the whole amount in a +plain, long envelope, and put this aside in company with the necklace. + +Already two hours had passed and, since he meant to call at the house on +West End Avenue well in advance of the hour when Cecelia Brooke might be +there--presuming Blensop to have given her the same appointment as he had +given "Mr. Ember," that is, nine o'clock--it was now time to prepare. + +Returning to his bedchamber, he laid out a carefully selected change of +clothing, shaved, parboiled himself in a hot bath, chilled him to the +pith in one of icy coldness, and dressed with scrupulous heed to detail, +studiously effacing every sign of his sleepless night. + +That experience was in no way to be surmised from his appearance when he +sallied forth to breakfast at the Plaza. + +At eight precisely, presenting himself at the Stanistreet residence, he +desired the footman to announce him as the author of a certain telegram +from Edgartown. + +He was obliged to wait less than a minute, the footman returning in haste +to request him to step into the library. + +This apartment--which he found much as he had last seen it, eight hours +ago, its window shattered, the portieres down, the furniture in some +disorder--was, on his introduction, occupied by two persons, one an +elderly, iron-gray gentleman of untidy dress and unobtrusive habit in spite +of a discerning cool, gray eye, the other Mr. Blensop in the neatest of +one-button morning-coat effects, with striped trouserings neither too smart +nor too sober for that state of life unto which it had pleased God to call +him, and fair white spats. + +If his attire was radiant, so was the temper of the secretary sunny. He +tripped forward in sprightliest fashion, offering cordial hands to the +caller till he recognized him, and even then was discountenanced only for +the briefest moment. + +"My dear Mr. Ember!" he purred soothingly--"why didn't you tell me last +night it was you who had sent that telegram? If I had for a moment +suspected the truth you should have had your appointment with Colonel +Stanistreet at any hour you might have cared to name, no matter how +ungodly!" + +Lanyard bowed gravely. "Thank you," he said. "And Colonel Stanistreet--?" + +"Is just finishing breakfast. He will be down directly. Please be seated, +make yourself entirely at ease. And will you excuse me--?" + +"With pleasure," Lanyard assured him, his gravity unbroken. + +A doubt clouded Mr. Blensop's bright eyes, but its transit was +instantaneous. He turned forthwith to join the iron-gray man before the +portrait which concealed the safe. + +"And now, Mr. Stone," said Mr. Blensop, with indulgence. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Stone quietly, "if you'll be good enough to show me +how this contraption works, maybe I'll find out something interesting, +maybe not." + +Mr. Blensop proceeded to oblige by operating the lever and sliding aside +the portrait. + +"Thanks," said Mr. Stone, producing a magnifying glass from a waistcoat +pocket and beginning to peer myopically at the face of the safe. "I take +it nobody's been pawing over this since the late, as you might say, +unpleasantness?" + +"Not a soul has touched it. By Colonel Stanistreet's order it was covered +as soon as we found it had been tampered with." + +"_Um-m_," Mr. Stone acknowledged, bending close to his work. + +Partially, perhaps, by way of administering an urbane rebuke to Lanyard for +his readiness to dispense with his society, Mr. Blensop remained in +the neighbourhood of Mr. Stone, hovering round him like a domesticated +humming-bird. + +"Do you find anything?" he enquired, when Stone straightened up. + +"Fingerprints a-plenty," Mr. Stone admitted with a hint of temper--"a slew +of the damn things. Looks like you must've called in the neighbours to help +make a good show. However, we'll see what we can make of 'em." + +He conjured from some recess in his clothing a squat bottle, from another a +stopper in which was fitted a blowpipe, joined the two together, approached +the safe with one end of the pipe between his lips and sprayed it with a +thin film of white powder, the contents of the bottle. + +"I say, do tell me what that's for?" + +"That," said Mr. Stone patiently, "is to make the fingerprints stand out, +so we can get a good likeness of 'em." + +He put the bottle aside, blinked at the safe approvingly, and by further +exercise of powers of legerdemain materialized a pocket kodak and a +flashlight pistol. + +"Can't I help you?" Blensop offered eagerly. "I used to be rather a dab at +amateur photography, you know." + +"Well, I'm kind of stuck on pressing the button myself," Stone confessed, +adjusting the focus. "But if you want to work that flashlight, I don't +mind." + +"Delighted," Mr. Blensop asserted. "How does it go, now?" + +"Like this." Stone set his camera down to demonstrate. "Now just stand +behind me," he concluded, "and pull the trigger when I say 'now'." + +"I'll do my best, but--I say--will it bang?" + +Stone had taken up the camera once more. His sole answer was a grunt upon +which his hearers placed two distinct interpretations--Lanyard's affording +him considerable gratification. + +"If you're ready," said Stone--"_now_" + +Mr. Blensop squinted unbecomingly and pressed the trigger. A vivid flare +lifted from the pan of the pistol, and winked out in a cloud of vapour, +slowly dissipating. + +"Is that all?" + +"Yes, sir--that's all of that." Stone stowed the camera away about his +person and from another cranny produced a small cardboard box of glass +slides, one of which he offered. "Now if you'll just run your fingers +through your hair and rest them on this slide, light but steady...." + +"What for?" Blensop demanded with a giggle of nervous reluctance. "You +don't think I'm the thief, do you?" + +"No, sir, I don't. But if I haven't got your fingerprints, how am I going +to tell them from the thief's?" + +"Oh, I see," Blensop said with a note of allayed apprehension, and put +himself on record. + +The door opening to admit Colonel Stanistreet, Lanyard rose. At sight of +him the Englishman checked and stared enquiringly, his eyes shadowed by +careworn brows; for it was apparent that, if the events of the night had +not depressed the spirits of the secretary, his employer had known little +sleep or none since the burglary. + +"Colonel Stanistreet," Blensop said melodiously, abandoning Stone to his +unsupervised devices, "this is Mr. Ember, the gentleman who called last +night before you got home. It appears he is the person who sent us that +telegram from Edgartown day before yesterday." + +"Indeed? Ember is not the name with which the message was signed." + +"The message was purposely left unsigned," Lanyard explained. + +Stanistreet nodded approval. "I am glad to meet you, Mr. Ember," he said, +offering a hand. "Be seated. I am most anxious first to express our +gratitude, next to learn how you came by your information." + +"You will find it an interesting story." + +"No doubt of that." Stanistreet took the desk chair, opened a cigar +humidor, and offered it. "I shall be even more interested, however," he +said with an evanescent trace of humour, "to know who the devil you are, +sir." + +"That is something I am prepared to prove to your satisfaction." + +"If you will be so good.... But excuse me for one moment." Stanistreet +turned in his chair. "Mr. Stone?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Have you finished with the safe? If so, I want my secretary to check over +its contents carefully and make sure nothing else is missing." + +"I'm all through with it, Colonel Stanistreet. Now, if you don't mind, +I'm going to mouse around and see if I can nose out anything else that's +useful." + +"That shall be entirely as you will. Now, Blensop"--Stanistreet nodded to +the secretary--"let us make certain...." + +"Yes, sir." + +Blithely Mr. Blensop addressed himself to the safe. + +"There has been an accident of some sort, Colonel Stanistreet?" Lanyard +enquired civilly, nodding toward the shattered French window. + +"A burglary, sir." + +"The criminal escaped--?" + +Stanistreet nodded. "Our watchman surprised him, and was shot for his +pains--not seriously, I'm happy to say. The burglar got himself tangled +up in that window, but extricated in time, and went over the garden wall +before we could determine which way he had taken." + +"I trust you lost nothing of value?" + +Stanistreet shrugged. "Unhappily, we did--a diamond necklace, the property +of my sister-in-law, and--ah--a document we could ill afford to part +with.... But you offered to show me credentials, I believe." + +"Such as they are," Lanyard replied. "My passports and letters were stolen +from me. But these, I think, should serve as well to prove my bona fides." + +He laid out in order upon the desk his plunder from the safe aboard the +U-boat--all but the money--the three cipher codes, the log, the diary +of the commander, the directory of German secret agents, and such other +documents as he had selected. + +The first Colonel Stanistreet took up with a dubious frown which swiftly +lightened, yielding, as he pursued his examination into the papers and +began to recognize their surpassing value to the Allied cause, to a subdued +glimmer of gratulatory excitement. + +But he was at pains to satisfy himself as to the authenticity of each paper +in turn, providing a lull for which Lanyard was not ungrateful since it +gave him a chance to adjust his understanding to an unexpected development +in the affair. + +He lounged at ease, smoking, his eyes, half-veiled by lowered lids, keenly +reviewing the room and its tenants. + +Stone, the detective (an operative, Lanyard rightly inferred, of the +American Secret Service, loaned to the British in order to keep the +burglary out of police records and newspapers), had wandered out into the +garden that glowed with young April sunlight beyond the windows. From +time to time he was to be seen stooping and inspecting the earth with the +gravity of an earnest, efficient, sober-sided sleuth of the old school. + +Blensop was busy before the safe, extracting the contents of each +pigeonhole in turn, thumbing its dockets of papers, checking each off upon +a typewritten list several pages in length. + +To that lithe and debonair figure Lanyard's gaze oftenest reverted. + +So not only had the necklace been stolen but "a document" which the British +Secret Service "could ill afford to part with"! + +Lanyard entertained no least doubt as to the identity of the document in +question. There could be but one, he felt, which Stanistreet would so +characterize. + +That document had not been in the safe when Lanyard had opened it at +midnight. + +After a moment Mr. Blensop uttered a musical note of vexation. The lead of +his pencil had broken. He threw it pettishly aside, came over to the desk, +took up a penholder, dipped it in the ink-well, and returned to his task. + + + + +XXII + +CHICANE + + +Colonel Stanistreet put down the last of the papers and slapped his hand +upon it resoundingly. + +"This is one of the most remarkable collections of data, I venture to +assert, that has ever come into the hands of the British Government. Have +you any idea of its value?" + +Lanyard lifted a whimsical eyebrow. "Some," he admitted drily. + +"And what do you ask for it, sir?" + +"Nothing." + +The gaze of the Englishman bored into his eyes; but he met their challenge +with an unshaken countenance, smiling. + +"My dear sir," Stanistreet demanded--"who are you?" + +"The name under which I sailed for New York on board the _Assyrian_," +Lanyard announced quietly, "was Andre Duchemin." + +Disturbed by a startled exclamation, together with a sound of shuffling and +a slight thump, he looked round in mild curiosity to see Blensop staggered +and astare, standing over a litter of documents which had slipped from his +grasp to the floor. Mastering his emotion quickly enough, the secretary +knelt with a mumbled apology and began to pick up the papers. + +With no more notice of the incident Lanyard returned undivided attention to +Colonel Stanistreet. + +"I had another name," he confessed, "and a reputation none too savoury, +as, I daresay, you know. Through the courtesy of the British Intelligence +Office I was permitted to disguise these; but on the _Assyrian_ I was +recognized--in short, ran afoul of German Secret Service agents who knew +me, but whom I did not know. On the sixth night out circumstances conspired +to make me seem a serious obstacle to their schemes. Consequently I was +waylaid, robbed, and thrown overboard. Within the next few minutes a +torpedo struck the ship and the submarine which fired it came up under me +as I struggled to keep afloat. By passing myself off as a Boche spy, I +succeeded in inducing the commander to take me below, and so reached the +Martha's Vineyard base. There chance played into my hands: I contrived to +sink the U-boat and escape, as reported in my telegram." + +During a brief silence he found opportunity to observe that Mr. Blensop was +working with hands that trembled singularly. + +"Incredible!" Stanistreet commented. + +"Yet here is proof," Lanyard asserted, indicating the papers beneath +Stanistreet's hand. + +"My dear sir, I didn't mean--" + +"Pardon!" Lanyard smiled, with a lifted hand. "I never thought you did, +Colonel Stanistreet. But it is your duty to make sure you are not imposed +upon by plausible adventurers. Therefore--since my papers have been +stolen--I am glad to be able to prove my identity with Andre Duchemin by +referring to survivors of the _Assyrian_ disaster, among others Mr. Sherry, +the second officer, Mr. Crane of the United States Secret Service, and a +countrywoman of yours, a Miss Cecelia Brooke, whose acquaintance I was +fortunate enough to make." + +Stanistreet nodded heavily, and consulted his watch. "Miss Brooke," he +said, "should be here shortly. Blensop made an appointment with her last +night, which I confirmed by telephone this morning." + +"Then, with permission, I shall remain and ask her to vouch for me," +Lanyard suggested in resignation, since it appeared he was not to be +permitted to escape this girl, that destiny was not yet finished with their +entanglement. + +"I shall be glad if you will, sir.... Monsieur Duchemin," Stanistreet +began, but hesitated--"or do you prefer another style?" + +"I am content with Duchemin." + +"That is a matter for your own discretion, but I should warn you it may +already have acquired an evil odour on this side. To my knowledge it has +been used within the last twenty-four hours, and the pretensions of its +wearer supported by your stolen credentials." + +"I am not surprised," Lanyard stated reflectively. "A chap with a beard, +perhaps?" + +"Why, yes...." + +"Anderson," the adventurer nodded: "that, at least, was his alias when he +jockeyed himself into the second steward's berth aboard the _Assyrian_." + +He glanced idly across the room, discovered Blensop once more at pause in a +stare, and grinned amiably. + +"He came here last night," Stanistreet volunteered deliberately-- +"representing himself as Andre Duchemin--to sell me a certain paper, the +same which subsequently, I am convinced, he returned to steal." + +"And did," Lanyard added. + +"And did," the Briton conceded. "Now you have told me who he is, I promise +you every effort shall be made to apprehend him and prevent further misuse +of the name you have assumed." + +"It has," Lanyard said tersely. + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"I say every effort has been made--and successfully--to accomplish the ends +you mention." + +"What's that you say?" Blensop demanded shrilly, crossing to the desk. + +"My secretary," Stanistreet explained, "was present at the interview, and +is naturally interested." + +"And very good of him, I'm sure," Lanyard agreed. "I was about to explain, +Mr. Blensop, that Ekstrom, alias Anderson, was killed in the course of +a raid on the Prussian spy headquarters in Seventy-ninth Street this +morning." + +"Amazing!" Blensop gasped. "I am glad to hear it," he added, and went +slowly back to his task. + +"I may as well tell you, sir," Lanyard pursued, "I have every reason to +believe the document sold you last night was one of those stolen from me." + +Stanistreet wagged a contentious head. + +"I cannot conceive how it could have come into your possession, sir." + +"Simply enough. Miss Brooke requested me to take care of it for her." + +The eyes of the Englishman grew stony. "Miss Brooke!" he repeated testily. +"I don't understand." + +"It was a document--I do not seek to know its nature from you, sir--of +vital importance in this present crisis, with the United States newly +entered into the war." + +Stanistreet affirmed with an inclination of his head. + +"I may tell you this much, Monsieur Duchemin: if it had not reached this +country safely.... What am I saying? If it be not recovered without delay, +the chances of America's early and efficient participation in the war will +suffer a tremendous setback ... Blensop, be good enough to call up the +American Secret Service at once and ask whether the document in question +was found on the body of this--ah--Ekstrom." + +"Pardon," Lanyard interposed as Blensop hesitantly approached the +telephone. "It would be a waste of time. I happen to know, because I was +there, that no such document was found on Ekstrom's body." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet grumbled. "What can have become of it? This +business grows only the blacker the deeper one seeks to fathom it. I +must own myself completely at a loss. How it came into the hands of Miss +Brooke--" + +"I can explain that, I think. The document was in the care of two +gentlemen, Mr. Bartholomew and Lieutenant Thackeray. The former was +murdered by the Huns in search of it, Lieutenant Thackeray murderously +assaulted. But for Miss Brooke's intervention the assassins must have +succeeded. As it was, the young woman herself found it and, one presumes, +took charge of it because her fiance was incapacitated, and possibly with +the notion that she might thereby prevent further mischief of the same +nature." + +"Her fiance?" Stanistreet echoed blankly. + +"Lieutenant Thackeray--" + +"Her brother, sir!" the Briton laughed. "Thackeray was his nom de service." + +It was Lanyard's turn to stare. "Ah!" he murmured. "A light begins to +dawn...." + +"Upon me as well," Stanistreet confessed. "Miss Brooke and her brother are +orphans and, before the war, were inseparable companions. I do not doubt +that, learning he had been commissioned with an uncommonly perilous errand, +she booked passage by the _Assyrian_ without his consent, in order to be +near him in event of danger." + +"This explains much," Lanyard conceded--"much that perplexed more than one +can say." + +"But in no way advances us on the trail of the purloined document." + +"I am afraid, sir," Lanyard lied deliberately, "you may as well abandon all +hope of ever seeing it again. Ekstrom made away with it: no question about +that. There was time enough and to spare between his exploit here and his +death for him to deliver it to safe hands. It is doubtless decoded by this +time, a copy of it already well on the way to the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"I am afraid," Stanistreet echoed--"I am very much afraid you are right." + +His thick, spatulate fingers of an executive drummed heavily upon the desk. + +Stone's figure darkened the windows. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" he called diffidently. + +"Yes, Mr. Stone?" + +"There's something here I'd like to consult you about, sir, if you can +spare a minute." + +"Certainly." The Englishman rose. "If you will excuse me, Monsieur +Duchemin...." Half way to the windows he hesitated. "By the bye, Blensop, I +wish you'd call up Apthorp and ask after Howson's condition." + +"Very good, sir," Blensop intoned cheerfully. + +"And do it without delay, please. I don't like to think of the poor fellow +suffering." + +"Immediately, sir." + +As his employer passed out into the garden with Stone, the secretary +discontinued his checking and came over to the desk, drawing up a chair and +sitting down to telephone. At the same time Lanyard got up and began to +pace thoughtfully to and fro. + +"Howson is the wounded night watchman, I take it, Mr. Blensop?" + +"Yes--an excellent fellow.... Schuyler nine, three hundred," Blensop cooed +into the transmitter. + +Conceivably that ostensible discomfiture whose symptoms Lanyard had +remarked had been a transitory humour. Mr. Blensop was now in what seemed +the most equable and blithe of tempers. His very posture at the telephone +eloquently betokened as much: he had thrown himself into the chair with +picturesque nonchalance, sitting with body half turned from the desk, his +right hand holding the receiver to his ear, his left thrust carelessly +into his trouser pocket, thus dragging back the lapel of that impeccable +morning-coat and exposing the bright cap of his gold-mounted fountain pen. + +Something in that implement seemed to possess for Lanyard overpowering +fascination. His gaze yearned for it, returned again and again to it. + +He changed his course to stroll up and down behind Blensop, between him and +the safe. + +"I understood Colonel Stanistreet to say the watchman was not seriously +injured, I believe," he observed, with interest. + +"Shot through the shoulder, that is all.... Schuyler nine, three hundred? +Dr. Apthorp, please. This is Mr. Blensop speaking, secretary to Colonel +Stanistreet.... Are you there, Dr. Apthorp?" + +With professional dexterity Lanyard en passant dropped a hand over the +young man's shoulder and lightly lifted the pen from its place in the +pocket of Blensop's waistcoat; the even tempo of his step unbroken, he +tossed it toward the safe, where it fell without sound upon a heavy Persian +rug. + +"Yes--about Howson," the musical accents continued, "Colonel Stanistreet is +most solicitous...." + +Swiftly Lanyard moved toward the safe, glanced through the French windows +to assure himself that Stanistreet and Stone were safely preoccupied, +whipped out the envelope he had prepared, and thrust it into a file of +papers which did not crowd its pigeonhole; accomplishing the complete +manoeuvre with such adroitness that, like the business of the pen, it +passed utterly without the knowledge of the secretary. + +"Thank you so much. _Good_ morning, Dr. Apthorp." + +Lanyard was passing the desk when Blensop rose, and the footman was +entering with his salver. + +"A lady to see Colonel Stanistreet, sir--by appointment, she says." + +Blensop glanced at the card. At the same time Stanistreet came in from the +garden, leaving Stone to potter about visibly in the distance. + +"Miss Brooke is here, sir," the secretary announced. + +"Ask her to come in, please." + +The footman retired. + +"Howson is resting easily, Dr. Apthorp reports," Blensop added, going back +to the safe. "Has Stone turned up anything of interest, sir?" + +"Footprints," Stanistreet replied with a snort of moderate impatience. +"He's quite upset since I've informed him the man who made them is--" + +"_Good God_!" + +The interruption was Blensop's in a voice strangely out of tune. +Stanistreet wheeled sharply upon him. + +"What the deuce--!" he snapped. + +By every indication the secretary had suffered the most severe shock of his +experience. His face was ghastly, his eyes vacant; his knees shook beneath +him; one hand pressed convulsively the bosom of his waistcoat. His +endeavours to reply evoked only a husky, rattling sound. + +"What the devil has come over you?" Stanistreet insisted. + +The rattle became articulate: "I've lost it! It's gone!" + +"What have you lost?" + +"N-nothing, sir. That is--I mean to say--my fountain pen." + +"The way you take it, I should say you'd lost your head," Stanistreet +commented. "You must have dropped the thing somewhere. Look about, see if +you can't find it." + +Thus admonished, the secretary began to search the floor with frantic +glances, and as the footman ushered in Cecelia Brooke, Lanyard saw the +young man dart forward and retrieve the pen with a start of relief wellnigh +as unmanning as the shock of loss had seemed. + +With that Lanyard's interest in the fellow waned; he was too poor a thing +to consider seriously; while here was one who compelled anew, as ever when +they met, the homage of sincere and marvelling admiration. + +Yet another of those miracles of feminine adaptability and makeshift had +brought the girl to this meeting in the guise of one who had never known a +broken night or an hour's care, with a look of such fresh tranquility that +it seemed hardly possible she could be one and the same with that wilted +little woman whom Lanyard had left in the gray dawn at the entrance to the +Hotel Knickerbocker. A tailored suit, necessarily borrowed plumage, became +her so completely that it was difficult to believe it not her own. Her eyes +were calm and sweet with candour; her colour was a clear and artless glow; +the hand she offered the Briton was tremorless. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" + +"I am he, Miss Brooke. It is kind of you to call so early to relieve my +mind about your brother. I have known Lionel so long...." + +"He is resting easily," said the girl. "His complete recovery is merely a +matter of time and nursing." + +"That is good news," said Stanistreet. "Monsieur Duchemin I believe you +know." + +"I have been fortunate in that at least." + +Gravely Lanyard saluted the hand extended to him in turn. "Mademoiselle is +most gracious," he said humbly. + +"Then--I understand--Monsieur Duchemin must have told you--?" The girl +addressed Stanistreet. + +"Permit me to leave you--" Lanyard interposed. + +"No," she begged--"please not! I've nothing to say that you may not hear. +You have been too much involved--" + +"If mademoiselle insists," Lanyard demurred. "I feel it is not right I +should stay. And yet--if you will indulge me--I should like very much to +demonstrate the truth of an old saw...." + +Two confused looks were his response. + +"I fear I, for one, do not follow," Stanistreet admitted. + +"I will explain quite briefly," Lanyard promised. "The adage I have in mind +is as old as human wit: Set a thief to catch a thief. And the last time it +was quoted in my hearing, it was not to my advantage. I recall, indeed, +resenting it enormously." + +He paused with purpose, looking down at the desk. A pad of blank paper +caught his eye. He took it up and examined it with an abstracted manner. + +"Well, monsieur: the application of your adage?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, what would you think if I were to tell you the +combination of your safe?" + +"I should be inclined to suspect that you were the devil," Stanistreet +chuckled. + +"By all accounts a gentleman of intelligence: one is flattered.... Very +well: I proceed to demonstrate black art with the aid of this white +paper pad. The combination, monsieur, is as follows: nine, twenty-seven, +eighteen, thirty-six." + +A low cry of bewilderment greeted this announcement. Blensop had drawn near +and was eyeing Lanyard as if under the influence of hypnotism. + +"How--how do you know that?" he asked in a broken voice. + +"Clairvoyance, Mr. Blensop. I seem to see, as I hold this pad, somebody +writing upon it the combination for the information of another who had no +right to have it--somebody using a pencil with a hard lead, Mr. Blensop; +which was very foolish of him, since it made a distinct impression on the +under sheet. So you see my magic is rather colourless, after all.... Now, +a wiser man, Mr. Blensop, would have used a pen, a fountain pen by +preference, with a soft gold nib, well broken. That would leave no +impression. If you will lend me the beautiful pen I observe in your pocket, +I will give a further demonstration." + +The eyes of the secretary shifted wildly. He hesitated, moistening dry lips +with the tip of a nervous tongue. + +"And don't try to get out of it, Mr. Blensop, because I am armed and don't +mean to let you escape. Besides, that good Mr. Stone patrols the garden." +Lanyard's tone changed to one of command. "That pen, monsieur!" + +Blensop's hand faltered to his waistcoat pocket, hesitated, withdrew, and +feebly extended the pen. + +"I think you _are_ the devil," he stammered in an under-tone--"the devil +himself!" + +Deftly unscrewing the pen-point, Lanyard inverted the barrel above the +desk. + +The cylinder of paper dropped out. + +"And now, Colonel Stanistreet, if you will call Mr. Stone and have this +traitor removed...." + + + + +XXIII + +AMNESTY + + +When Stanistreet had gone out in company with Stone, and the broken, +weeping Blensop, ending a scene indescribably painful, a lull almost as +uncomfortable to Lanyard ensued. + +Then--"How did you guess?" Cecelia Brooke asked in wonder. + +Discountenanced by the admiration glowing in her eyes, Lanyard stood +fumbling with the disjointed members of Blensop's pen. + +"Do not give me too much credit," he depreciated: "anybody acquainted with +that roll of paper could have guessed that an empty fountain pen would +furnish an ideal place of concealment for it. Moreover, just before you +came in, that traitor missed his pen, and his consternation betrayed him +beyond more doubt to one whose distrust was already astir. As for the +other, it was true: Blensop did write down the combination on this pad, +using a pencil with a hard lead; the marks are very plain." + +"But for whose use?" + +"Ekstrom--Anderson--was here last night, and saw Blensop alone. Colonel +Stanistreet was not at home. Knowing what we know now, that Blensop was +a creature of the German system here, bought body, soul, and conscience +through its studied pandering to his vices, we know he could not well have +refused to surrender the combination on demand." + +"Still I fail to understand...." + +"Ekstrom, being Ekstrom, could not resist the opportunity to play double. +Here was a property he could sell to England at a stiff price. Why not +despoil the enemy, put the money in pocket, then return, steal the paper +anew for the use of Germany, and collect the stipulated reward from that +source? But he reckoned without Blensop's avarice, there; he showed Blensop +too plainly the way to profit through betraying both parties to a bargain; +Blensop saw no reason why he should not play the game that Ekstrom played. +So he stole it for himself, to sell to Germany, but being a poor, witless +fool, lacking Ekstrom's dash and audacity, was foredoomed to failure and +exposure." + +The girl continued to eye him steadfastly, and he as steadfastly to evade +her direct gaze. + +"Nothing that you tell me detracts from the wonder of your guessing so +accurately," she insisted. "Now I know what Mr. Crane said of you was true, +that you are one of the most extraordinary of men." + +"He was too kind when he said that," Lanyard protested wretchedly. "It is +not true. If you must know...." + +"Well, Monsieur Lanyard?" + +Her tone was that of a light-hearted girl, arch with provocation. Of a +sudden Lanyard understood that he might no longer stop here alone with her. + +"If you will be a little indulgent with me," he suggested, "I will try to +explain what I mean." + +"And how indulgent, monsieur?" + +"I have a whim to take the air in this garden. Will you accompany me?" + +"Why not?" + +As she led the way through the French windows, he noted with deeper +misgivings how her action matched the temper of her voice, how she seemed +to-day more deliciously alive and happier than any common mortal. + +So light her heart! And all since she had found him here! + +At his wits' ends, he conceded now what he had so long denied. With all her +wit and wisdom, with all her charm of beauty, winsomeness, and breeding, +with all her ingrained love of truth and honesty, she was no more than +Nature had meant her to be, a woman with woman's weakness for the man +she must admire. She liked him, divined in him latent qualities somehow +excellent. Something in him worked upon her imagination, something, no +doubt, in the overcoloured, romantic yarns current about the Lone Wolf, +and so had touched her heart. She liked him too well already, and she was +willing to like him better. + +But that must never be. He must rend ruthlessly apart this illusion of +romance with which she chose to transfigure the prowling parasite of night, +the sneaking thief.... + +The garden was sweet with the bright promise of Spring. A few weeks more, +and its formal walks would wend a riot of flowers. Now its sunlight made +amends for what it lacked in beauty of growing things; and its air was warm +and fragrant and still in the shelter of the red-brick walls. + +Midway down that walk, by the side of which a thief had skulked nine hours +ago, near that door whose lock had yielded to his cunning keys, the girl +paused and confronted Lanyard spiritedly as he came up with heavy step and +hang-dog head. + +"Well, monsieur?" she demanded. "Do you mean to tantalize me longer with +your reticence?" + +But something in the haggard eyes he showed her made the girl catch her +breath. + +"What is it?" she cried anxiously. "Monsieur Duchemin, what is your +trouble?" + +"Only this truth that I must tell you," he said bitterly: "I merely played +a part back there, just now. There was neither wit nor guess-work in that +business; once I had seen Blensop's panic over the fancied loss of his pen, +the rest was knowledge. I saw him and Ekstrom together last night--skulking +in those windows, I watched them; and though in my denseness I didn't +understand, I saw him write upon that pad, tear off and give the sheet to +Ekstrom. And I knew Ekstrom had not succeeded in stealing back what he had +sold to Colonel Stanistreet, knew he was guiltless in fact if not in deed." + +"But--how could you know that?" + +"Because I was there, in the room, when he entered it after it had been +shut up for the night." + +Conscious of her hands that fluttered like wounded things to her bosom, he +looked away in misery. + +"What were you doing there?" she whispered in the end. + +"Trying to find that paper, which I had seen Ekstrom sell to Colonel +Stanistreet, so that I might make good my promise and relieve your distress +by returning it to you. I had opened the safe before he entered, and +searched it thoroughly, and knew the paper was not there--though at that +time it never entered my thick head to suspect Blensop of treachery. It +was neither Blensop nor Ekstrom, Miss Brooke ... it was I who stole that +necklace." + +She made no sound and did not stir; and though he dared not look he knew +her stricken gaze was steadfast to his face. + +"I will say this much in my defence: I did not come with intent to steal, +but only to take back what had been stolen from me, and return it to you, +who had trusted it to my care. I wanted to do that, because I did not then +understand the ins and outs of this intrigue, and had no means of knowing +how deeply your honour might be involved." + +"But you did _not_ take that necklace!" + +"I am sorry.... I saw it, and could not resist it." + +"But Mr. Crane assured me you had given up all that sort of thing years +ago!" + +"Notwithstanding that, it seems I may not be trusted...." + +After another trying silence she declared vehemently: "I do not believe +you! You say this thing for some secret purpose of your own. For some +reason I can't understand you wish to abase yourself in my sight, to make +me think you capable of such infamy. Why--ah, monsieur!--why must you do +this?" + +"Because it isn't fair to represent myself as what I am not, mademoiselle. +Once a thief, always--" + +"No! It isn't true!" + +"Again I am sorry, but I know. You have been most generous to believe in +me. If anything could save me from myself, it would be your confidence. +That, I presume, is why I felt called upon to undo my thieving, and make +good the loss. The money Colonel Stanistreet paid Ekstrom is now in the +safe, back there in the library. The necklace is ... here." + +Blindly he thrust the tissue packet into her hands. + +"If you will consent to return it to its owner, when I have gone, I shall +be most grateful." + +Her hands shook so that, when she would open the packet, it escaped her +grasp and dropped into a little pool of rain-water which had collected in +a hollow of the walk. Lanyard picked it up, stripped off the soiled and +sodden paper, dried the necklace with his handkerchief, replaced it in her +hand. + +He heard the deep intake of her breath as she recognized its beauty, then +her quavering voice: "You give this back because of me...!" + +"Because I cannot be an ingrate. I know no other way to prove how I have +prized your faith in me.... And now, with your leave, I will go away +quietly by this garden gate--" + +"No--please, no!" + +"But--" + +"I have more to say to you. It isn't fair of you to go like this, when I--" + +She interrupted herself, and when next she spoke he was dashed by a change +in her voice from a tone of passionate expostulation to one of amused +animation. + +"Colonel Stanistreet!" she called clearly. "Do come here at once, please!" + +Startled, Lanyard saw that Stanistreet had appeared in the French windows +in company with Crane. In response to Cecelia's hail both came out into the +garden, Stanistreet briskly leading, Crane lounging at his heels, champing +his cigar, his weathered features knitted against the brightness of the +sun. + +"Good morning, Miss Brooke. Howdy, Lanyard--or are you Duchemin again?" he +said; but his salutations were lost in the wonder excited by the girl's +next move. + +"See, Colonel Stanistreet, what we have found!" she cried, and showed him +the necklace. "I mean, what Monsieur Duchemin found. It was he who saw it, +lying beneath that rose-bush over there. Your burglar must have dropped it +in making his escape; you can see the paper he wrapped it in, all rain-wet +and muddied." + +Stanistreet's eyes protruded alarmingly, and his face grew very red before +he found breath enough to ejaculate: "God bless my soul!" Breathing hard, +he accepted the necklace from Cecelia's hands. "I must--excuse me--I must +tell my sister-in-law about this immediately!" + +He turned and trotted hastily back into the house. + +Crane lingered but a moment longer. His cheek, as ever, was bulging round +his everlasting cigar. Was his tongue therein as well? Lanyard never knew; +the man's eyes remained inscrutable for all the kindly shrewdness that +glimmered amid their netted wrinkles. + +"Excuse _me_!" he said suddenly. "I got to tell the colonel something." + +He got lankily into motion and presently passed in through the windows.... + +Irresistibly her gaze drew Lanyard's. He lifted careworn eyes and realized +her with a great wistfulness upon him. + +She awaited in silence his verdict, her chin proudly high, her face +adorably flushed, her shining eyes level and brave to his, her generous +hands outstretched. + +"Must you go now?" she said tenderly, as he stood hesitant and shamed. +"Must you go now, my dear?" + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The False Faces, by Vance, Louis Joseph + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + +This file should be named 7flfc10.txt or 7flfc10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7flfc11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7flfc10a.txt + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, +Tom Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The False Faces + +Author: Vance, Louis Joseph + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9908] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 30, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, +Tom Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +THE FALSE FACES + +FURTHER ADVENTURES FROM THE HISTORY OF THE LONE WOLF + +BY LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE + +1918 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I Out of No Man's Land + +II From a British Port + +III In the Barred Zone + +IV In Deep Waters + +V On the Banks + +VI Under Suspicion + +VII In Stateroom 29 + +VIII Off Nantucket + +IX Sub Sea + +X At Base + +XI Under the Rose + +XII Resurrection + +XIII Reincarnation + +XIV Defamation + +XV Recognition + +XVI Au Printemps + +XVII Finesse + +XVIII Danse Macabre + +XIX Force Majeure + +XX Riposte + +XXI Question + +XXII Chicane + +XXIII Amnesty + + + + +I + +OUT OF NO MAN'S LAND + + +On the muddy verge of a shallow little pool the man lay prone and still, as +still as those poor dead whose broken bodies rested all about him, where +they had fallen, months or days, hours or weeks ago, in those grim contests +which the quick were wont insensately to wage for a few charnel yards of +that debatable ground. + +Alone of all that awful company this man lived and, though he ached with +the misery of hunger and cold and rain-drenched garments, was unharmed. + +Ever since nightfall and a brisk skirmish had made practicable an +undetected escape through the German lines, he had been in the open, +alternately creeping toward the British trenches under cover of darkness +and resting in deathlike immobility, as he now rested, while pistol-lights +and star-shells flamed overhead, flooding the night with ghastly glare +and disclosing in pitiless detail that two-hundred-yard ribbon of earth, +littered with indescribable abominations, which set apart the combatants. +When this happened, the living had no other choice than to ape the dead, +lest the least movement, detected by eyes that peered without rest through +loopholes in the sandbag parapets, invite a bullet's blow. + +Now it was midnight, and lights were flaring less frequently, even as +rifle-fire had grown more intermittent ... as if many waters might quench +out hate in the heart of man! + +For it was raining hard--a dogged, dreary downpour drilling through a heavy +atmosphere whose enervation was like the oppression of some malign and +inexorable incubus; its incessant crepitation resembling the mutter of +a weary, sullen drum, dwarfing to insignificance the stuttering of +machine-guns remote in the northward, dominating even a dull thunder of +cannonading somewhere down the far horizon; lowering a vast and shimmering +curtain of slender lances, steel-bright, close-ranked, between the trenches +and over all that weary land. Thus had it rained since noon, and thus--for +want of any hint of slackening--it might rain for another twelve hours, or +eighteen, or twenty-four.... + +The star-rocket, whose rays had transfixed him beside the pool, paled and +winked out in mid-air, and for several minutes unbroken darkness obtained +while, on hands and knees, the man crept on toward that gap in the British +barbed-wire entanglements which he had marked down ere daylight waned, +shaping a tolerably straight course despite frequent detours to avoid the +unspeakable. Only once was his progress interrupted--when straining senses +apprised him that a British patrol was taking advantage of the false truce +to reconnoitre toward the enemy lines, its approach betrayed by a nearing +_squash_ of furtive feet in the boggy earth, the rasp of constrained +respiration, a muttered curse when someone slipped and narrowly escaped a +fall, the edged hiss of an officer's whisper reprimanding the offender. +Incontinently he who crawled dropped flat to the greasy mud and lay +moveless. + +Almost at the same instant, warned by a trail of sparks rising in a long +arc from the German trenches, the soldiers imitated his action, and, as +long as those triple stars shone in the murk, made themselves one with him +and the heedless dead. Two lay so close beside him that the man could have +touched either by moving a hand a mere six inches; he was at pains to do +nothing of the sort; he was sedulous to clench his teeth against their +chattering, even to hold his breath, and regretted that he might not mute +the thumping of his heart. Nor dared he stir until, the lights fading out, +the patrol rose and skulked onward. + +Thereafter his movements were less stealthy; with a detachment of their +own abroad in No Man's Land, the British would refrain from shooting at +shadows. One had now to fear only German bullets in event the patrol were +discovered. + +Rising, the man slipped and stumbled on in semi-crouching posture, ready +to flatten to earth as soon as any one of his many overshoulder glances +detected another sky-spearing flight of sparks. But this necessity he was +spared; no more lights were discharged before he groped through the wires +to the parapet, with almost uncanny good luck, finding the very spot where +the British had come over the top, indicated by protruding uprights of a +rough wooden scaling ladder. + +As he turned, felt with a foot for the uppermost rung, and began to +descend, he was saluted by a voice hoarse with exposure, from the black +bowels of the trench: + +"Blimy! but ye're back in a 'urry! Wot's up? Forget to put perfume on yer +pocket-'andkerchief--or wot?" + +The man's response, if he made any, was lost in a heavy splash as his feet +slipped on the slimy rungs, delivering him precipitately into a knee-deep +stream of foul water which moved sluggishly through the trench like the +current of a half-choked sewer--a circumstance which neither suprised him +nor added to his physical discomfort, who could be no more wet or defiled +than he had been. + +Floundering to a foothold, he cast about vainly for a clue to the other's +whereabouts; for if the night was thick in the open, here in the trench +its density was as that of the pit; the man could distinguish positively +nothing more than a pallid rift where the walls opened overhead. + +"Well, sullen, w'ere's yer manners? Carn't yer answer a civil question?" + +Turning toward the speaker, the man replied in good if rather carefully +enunciated English: + +"I am not of your comrades. I am come from the enemy trenches." + +"The 'ell yer are! 'Ands up!" + +The muzzle of a rifle prodded the man's stomach. Obediently he lifted both +hands above his head. A thought later, he was half blinded by the sudden +spot-light of an electric flash-lamp. + +"Deserter, eh? You kamerad--wot?" + +"Kamerad!" the man echoed with an accent of contempt. "I am no German--I +am French. I have come through the Boche lines to-night with important +information which I desire to communicate forthwith to your commanding +officer." + +"Strike me!" his catechist breathed, skeptical. + +There was a new sound of splashing in the trench. A third voice chimed in: +"'Ello? Wot's all the row abaht?" + +"Step up and tike a look for yerself. 'Ere's a blighter wot sez 'e's com +from the Germ trenches with important information for the O.C." + +"Bloody liar," the newcomer commented dispassionately. "Mind yer eye. +Likely it's just another pl'yful little trick of the giddy Boche. 'Ere +you!" The splashing drew nearer. "Wot's yer gime? Speak up if yer don't +want a bullet through yer in'ards." + +"I play no game," the man said patiently. "I am unarmed--your prisoner, if +you like." + +"I like, all right. Mike yer mind easy abaht that. But wot's all this +'important information'?" + +"I shall divulge that only to the proper authorities. Be good enough to +conduct me to your commanding officer without more delay." + +"Wot do yer mike of 'im, corp'ril?" the first soldier enquired. "'Ow abaht +an inch or two o' the bay'net to loosen 'is tongue?" + +After a moment's hesitation in perplexed silence, the corporal took the +flash-lamp from the private and with its beam raked the prisoner from head +to foot, gaining little enlightenment from this review of a tall, spare +figure clothed in the familiar gray overcoat of the German private--its +face a mere mask of mud through which shone eyes of singular brilliance and +steadiness, the eyes of a man of intelligence, determination, and courage. + +"Keep yer 'ands 'igh," the corporal advised curtly. "Ginger, you search +'im." + +Propping his rifle against the wall of the trench, its butt on the +firing-step just out of water, the private proceeded painstakingly +to examine the person of the prisoner; in course of which process he +unbuttoned and threw open the gray overcoat, exposing a shapeless tunic and +trousers of shoddy drab stuff. + +"'E 'asn't got no arms--'e 'asn't got nothink, not so much as 'is blinkin' +latch-key." + +"Very good. Get back on yer post. I'll tike charge o' this one." + +Grounding his own rifle, the corporal fixed its bayonet, then employed it +in a gesture of unpleasant significance. + +"'Bout fice," he ordered. "March. Yer can drop yer 'ands--but don't go +forgettin' I'm right 'ere be'ind yer." + +In silence the prisoner obeyed, wading down the flooded trench, the +spot-light playing on his back, striking sullen gleams from the inky water +that swirled about his knees, and disclosing glimpses of coated figures +stationed at regular intervals along the firing-step, faces steadfast to +loopholes in the parapet. + +Now and again they passed narrow rifts in the walls of the trench, +entrances to dugouts betrayed by glimmers of candle-light through the +cracks of makeshift doors or the coarse mesh of gunnysack curtains. + +From one of these, at the corporal's summons, a sleepy subaltern stumbled +to attend ungraciously to his subordinate's report, and promptly ordered +the prisoner taken on to the regimental headquarters behind the lines. + +A little farther on captive and captor turned off into a narrow and +tortuous communication trench. Thereafter for upward of ten minutes they +threaded a labyrinth of deep, constricted, reeking ditches, with so little +to differentiate one from another that the prisoner wondered at the sure +sense of direction which enabled the corporal to find his way without +mis-step, with the added handicap of the abysmal darkness. Then, of a +sudden, the sides of the trench shelved sharply downward, and the two +debouched into a broad, open field. Here many men lay sleeping, with only +waterproof sheets for protection from that bitter deluge which whipped the +earth into an ankle-deep lake of slimy ooze and lent keener accent to the +abiding stench of filth and decomposing flesh. A slight hillock stood +between this field and the firing-line--where now lively fusillades +were being exchanged--its profile crowned with a spectral rank of +shell-shattered poplars sharply silhouetted against a sky in which +star-shells and Verey lights flowered like blooms of hell. + +Here the corporal abruptly commanded his prisoner to halt and himself +paused and stood stiffly at attention, saluting a group of three officers +who were approaching with the evident intention of entering the trench. One +of these loosed upon the pair the flash of a pocket lamp. At sight of the +gray overcoat all three stopped short. + +A voice with the intonation of habitual command enquired: "What have we +here?" + +The corporal replied: "A prisoner, sir--sez 'e's French--come across the +open to-night with important information--so 'e sez." + +The spot-light picked out the prisoner's face. The officer addressed him +directly. + +"What is your name, my man?" + +"That," said the prisoner, "is something which--like my intelligence--I +should prefer to communicate privately." + +With a startled gesture the officer took a step forward and peered intently +into that mud-smeared countenance. + +"I seem to know your voice," he said in a speculative tone. + +"You should," the prisoner returned. + +"Gentlemen," said the officer to his companions, "you may continue your +rounds. Corporal, follow me with your prisoner." + +He swung round and slopped off heavily through the mud of the open field. + +Behind them the sound of firing in the forward trenches swelled to an +uproar augmented by the shrewish chattering of machine-guns. Then a battery +hidden somewhere in the blackness in front of them came into action, +barking viciously. Shells whined hungrily overhead. The prisoner glanced +back: the maimed poplars stood out stark against a sky washed with wave +after wave of infernal light.... + +Some time later he was conscious of a cobbled way beneath his sodden +footgear. They were entering the outskirts of a ruined village. On either +hand fragments of walls reared up with sashless windows and gaping doors +like death masks of mad folk stricken in paroxysm. + +Within one doorway a dim light burned; through it the officer made his way, +prisoner and corporal at his heels, passing a sentry, then descending a +flight of crazy wooden steps to a dank and gloomy cellar, stone-walled +and vaulted. In the middle of the cellar stood a broad table at which an +orderly sat writing by the light of two candles stuck in the necks of empty +bottles. At another table, in a corner, a sergeant and an operator of the +Signal Corps were busy with field telephone and telegraph instruments. On a +meagre bed of damp and mouldy straw, against the farther wall, several men, +orderlies and subalterns, rested in stertorous slumbers. Despite the cold +the atmosphere was a reek of tobacco smoke, sweat, and steam from wet +clothing. + +The man at the centre table rose and saluted, offering the commanding +officer a sheaf of scribbled messages and reports. Taking the chair thus +vacated, the officer ran an eye over the papers, issued several orders +inspired by them, then turned attention to the prisoner. + +"You may return to your post, corporal." + +The corporal executed a smart about-face and clumped up the steps. In +answer to the officer's steadfast gaze the prisoner stepped forward and +confronted him across the table. + +"Who are you?" + +"My name," said the prisoner, after looking around to make sure that none +of the other tenants of the cellar was within earshot, "is Lanyard--Michael +Lanyard." + +"The Lone Wolf!" + +Involuntarily the officer jumped up, almost overturning his chair. + +"That same," the prisoner affirmed, adding with a grimace of besmirched and +emaciated features that was meant for a smile--"General Wertheimer." + +"Wertheimer is not my name." + +"I am aware of that. I uttered it merely to confirm my identity to you; it +is the only name I ever knew you by in the old days, when you were in the +British Secret Service and I a famous thief with a price upon my head, when +you and I played hide and seek across half Europe and back again--in the +days of Troyon's and 'the Pack,' the days of De Morbihan and Popinot +and...." + +"Ekstrom," the officer supplied as the prisoner hesitated oddly. + +"And Ekstrom," the other agreed. + +There was a little silence between the two; then the officer mused aloud: +"All dead!" + +"All ... but one." + +The officer looked up sharply. "Which--?" + +"The last-named." + +"Ekstrom? But we saw him die! You yourself fired the shot that--" + +"It was not Ekstrom. Trust that one not to imperil his precious carcase +when he could find an underling to run the risk for him! I tell you I have +seen Ekstrom within this last month, alive and serving the Fatherland as +the genius of that system of espionage which keeps the enemy advised of +your every move, down to the least considerable--that system which makes it +possible for the Boche to greet every regiment by name when it moves up to +serve its time in your advanced trenches." + +"You amaze me!" + +"I shall convince you; I bring intelligence which will enable you to tear +apart this web of treason within your own lines and...." + +Lanyard's voice broke. The officer remarked that he was +trembling--trembling so violently that to support himself he must grip the +edge of the table with both hands. + +"You are wounded?" + +"No--but cold to my very marrow, and faint with hunger. Even the German +soldiers are on starvation rations, now; the civilians are worse off; and +I--I have been over there for years, a spy, a hunted thing, subsisting as +casually as a sparrow!" + +"Sit down. Orderly!" + +And there was no more talk between these two for a time. Not only did the +officer refuse to hear another word before Lanyard had gorged his fill of +food and drink, but an exigent communication from the front, transmitted +through the trench telephone system, diverted his attention temporarily. + +Gnawing ravenously at bread and meat, Lanyard watched curiously the scenes +in the cellar, following, as best he might, the tides of combat; gathering +that German resentment of a British bombing enterprise (doubtless the work +of that same squad which had stolen past him in the gloom of No Man's Land) +had developed into a violent attempt to storm the forward trenches. +In these a desperate struggle was taking place. Reinforcements were +imperatively wanted. + +Activities at the signallers' table became feverish; the commanding officer +stood over it, reading incoming messages as they were jotted down and +taking such action thereupon as his judgment dictated. Orderlies, dragged +half asleep from their nests of straw, were shaken awake and despatched to +rouse and rush to the front the troops Lanyard had seen sleeping in the +open field. Other orderlies limped or reeled down the cellar steps, +delivered their despatches, and, staggered out through a breach in the wall +to have their injuries attended to in the field dressing-station in the +adjoining cellar, or else threw themselves down on the straw to fall +instantly asleep despite the deafening din. + +The Boche artillery, seeking blindly to silence the field batteries whose +fire was galling their offensive, had begun to bombard the village. Shells +fled shrieking overhead, to break in thunderous bellows. Walls toppled +with appalling crashes, now near at hand, now far. The ebb and flow of +rifle-fire at the front contributed a background of sound not unlike the +roaring of an angry surf. Machine-guns gibbered like maniacs. Heavier +artillery was brought into play behind the British lines, apparently at no +great distance from the village; the very flag-stones of the cellar floor +quaked to the concussions of big-calibre guns. + +Through the breach in the wall echoed the screams and groans of wounded. +The foul air became saturated with a sickening stench of iodoform. Gusts of +wet wind eddied hither and yon. Candles flickered and flared, guttered out, +were renewed. Monstrous shadows stole out from black corners, crept along +mouldy walls, crouched, sprang and vanished, or, inscrutably baffled, +retreated sullenly to their lairs.... + +For the better part of an hour the struggle continued; then its vigour +began to wane. The heaviest British metal went out of action; some time +later the field batteries discontinued their activities. The volume of +firing in the advance trenches dwindled, was fiercely renewed some half a +dozen times, died away to normal. Once more the Boche had been beaten back. + +Returning to his chair, the commanding officer rested his elbows upon the +table and bowed his head between his hands in an attitude of profound +fatigue. He seemed to remind himself of Lanyard's presence only at 'cost of +a racking effort, lifting heavy-lidded eyes to stare almost incredulously +at his face. + +"I presumed you were in America," he said in dulled accents. + +"I was ... for a time." + +"You came back to serve France?" + +Lanyard shook his head. "I returned to Europe after a year, the spring +before the war." + +"Why?" + +"I was hunted out of New York. The Boche would not let me be." + +The officer looked startled. "The Boche?" + +"More precisely, Herr Ekstrom--to name him as we knew him. But this I did +not suspect for a long time, that it was he who was responsible for my +persecution. I knew only that the police of America, informed of my +identity with the Lone Wolf, sought to deport me, that every avenue to +an honourable livelihood was closed. So I had to leave, to try to lose +myself." + +"Your wife ... I mean to say, you married, didn't you?" + +Lanyard nodded. "Lucy stuck by me till ... the end.... She had a little +money of her own. It financed our flight from the States. We made a +round-about journey of it, to elude surveillance--and, I think, succeeded." + +"You returned to Paris?" + +"No: France, like England, was barred to the Lone Wolf.... We settled down +in Belgium, Lucy and I and our boy. He was three months old. We found a +quiet little home in Louvain--" + +The officer interrupted with a low cry of apprehension, Lanyard checked him +with a sombre gesture. "Let me tell you.... + +"We might have been happy. None knew us. We were sufficient unto ourselves. +But I was without occupation; it occurred to me that my memoirs might +make good reading--for Paris; my friends the French are as fond of their +criminals as you English of your actors. On the second of August I +journeyed to Paris to negotiate with a publisher. While I was away the +Boche invaded Belgium. Before I could get back Louvain had been occupied, +sacked...." + +He sat for a time in brooding silence; the officer made no attempt to +rouse him, but the gaze he bent upon the man's lowered head was grave and +pitiful. Abruptly, in a level and toneless voice, Lanyard resumed: + +"In order to regain my home I had to go round by way of England and +Holland. I crossed the Dutch frontier disguised as a Belgian peasant. When +I reentered Louvain it was to find ... But all the world knows what the +blond beast did in Louvain. My wife and little son had vanished utterly. I +searched three months before I found trace of either. Then ... Lucy died in +my arms in a wretched hovel near Aerschot. She had seen our child butchered +before her eyes. She herself...." + +Lanyard's hand, that rested on the table, clenched and whitened beneath its +begrimed skin. His eyes fathomed distances immeasurably removed beyond the +confines of that grim cellar. But he presently continued: + +"Ekstrom had accompanied the army of invasion, had seen and recognized Lucy +in passing through Louvain. Therefore she and my son were among the first +to be sacrificed.... When I stood over her grave I dedicated my life to the +extermination of Ekstrom and all his breed. I have since done things I do +not like to think about. But the Prussian spy system is the weaker for my +work.... + +"But Ekstrom I could never find. It was as if he knew I hunted him. He was +seldom twenty-four hours ahead of me, yet I never caught up with him but +once; and then he was too closely guarded.... I pursued him to Berlin, +to Potsdam, three times to the western front, to Serbia, once to +Constantinople, twice to Petrograd." + +The officer uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Lanyard looked his way +with a depreciatory air. + +"Nothing strange about that. To one of my early training that was +easy--everything was easy but the end I sought.... En passant I collected +information concerning the workings of the Prussian spy system. From time +to time I found means to communicate somewhat of this to the Surété in +Paris. I believe France and England have already profited a little through +my efforts. They shall profit more, and quickly, when I have told all that +I have to tell.... + +"Of a sudden Ekstrom vanished. Overnight he disappeared from Germany. A +false lead brought me back to this front. Two days ago I learned he had +been sent to America on a secret mission. Knowing that the States have +severed diplomatic relations with Berlin and tremble on the verge of a +declaration of war, we can surmise something of the nature of his mission. +I mean to see that he fails.... To follow him to America, making my way +out through Belgium and Holland, pursuing such furtive ways as I must in +territory dominated by the Boche, meant much time lost. So I came through +the lines to-night. Fortune was kind in throwing me into your hands: I +count upon your assistance. As an ex-agent of the Secret Service you are in +a position to make smooth my path; as an Englishman, you will advance the +interests of a prospective ally of England if you help me to the limit of +your ability; for what I mean to do in America will serve that country, by +exposing the conspiracies of the Boche across the water, as much as it will +serve my private ends." + +The officer's hand fell across the table and closed upon the knotted fist +of the Lone Wolf. + +"As an Englishman," he said simply--"of course. But no less as your +friend." + + + + +II + +FROM A BRITISH PORT + + +"And one man in his time plays many parts": few more than this same +Lanyard. In no way to be identified with the hunted creature who crept into +the British lines out of No Man's Land was the Monsieur Duchemin who, ten +days after that wintry midnight, took passage for New York from "a British +port," aboard the steamship _Assyrian_. + +André Duchemin was the name inscribed in the credentials furnished him in +recognition of signal assistance rendered the British Secret Service in its +task of scotching the Prussian spy system. And the personality he chose +to assume suited well the name. A man of modest and amiable deportment, +viewing the world with eyes intelligent and curious, his temper reacting +from its ways in terms of grave humour, Monsieur Duchemin passed peaceably +on his lawful occasions, took life as he found it, made the best of irksome +circumstances. + +This last idiosyncrasy stood him in good stead. For the _Assyrian_ failed +to clear upon her proposed sailing date and for a livelong week thereafter +chafed alongside her landing stage, steam up, cargo laden and stowed, +nothing lacking but the Admiralty's permission to begin her westbound +voyage--a permission inscrutably withheld, giving rise to a common +discontent which the passengers dissembled to the various best of their +abilities, that is to say, in most cases thinly or not at all. + +Yet they were none of them unreasonable beings. They had come aboard one +and all keyed up to a high nervous pitch, pardonable in such as must commit +their lives to the dread adventure of the barred zone, wanting nothing +so much as to get it over with, whatever its upshot. And everlasting +procrastination required them day after day to steel their hearts anew +against that Terror which followed its furtive ways beneath the leaden +waters of the Channel! + +Alone among them this Monsieur Duchemin paraded successfully a false face +of resignation, protesting no predilection whatsoever for a watery grave, +no infatuate haste to challenge the Hun upon his chosen hunting-ground. In +the fullness of time it would be permitted to him to go down to the sea in +this ship. Meanwhile he found it apparently pleasant and restful to explore +the winding cobbled ways of that antiquated waterside community, made over +by the hand of War into a bustling seaport, or to tramp the sunken lanes +that seamed those green old Cornish hills which embosomed the wide harbour +waters, or to lounge about the broad white decks of the _Assyrian_ watching +the diurnal traffic of the haven--a restless, warlike pageant. + +Daily, in earliest dusk of dawn, the wakeful might watch the faring forth +of a weirdly assorted fleet of small craft, the day patrol, to relieve a +night patrol as weirdly heterogeneous. Daily, at all hours, mine-sweepers +came and went, by twos and twos, in flocks, in schools; and daily bellowing +offshore detonations advertised their success in garnering those horned +black seeds of death which the Hun and his kin were sedulous to sow in the +fairways. While daily battleships both great and small rolled in wearily to +refit and dress their wounds, or took swift departure on grim and secret +errands. + +There was, moreover, the not-infrequent spectacle of some minor ship of +war--a truculent, gray destroyer as like as not--shepherding in a sleek +submarine, like a felon whale armoured and strangely caparisoned in +gray-brown steel, to be moored in chains with a considerable company of its +fellows on the far side of the roadstead, while its crew was taken ashore +and consigned to some dark limbo of oblivion. + +And once, with a light cruiser snapping at her heels, a drab Norwegian +tramp plodded sullenly into port, a mine-layer caught red-handed, plying +its assassin's trade beneath a neutral flag. + +Not long after its crew had been landed, volleys of musketry crashed in the +town gaol-yard. + +One of a group of three idling on the promenade deck of the _Assyrian_, +Lanyard turned sharply and stared through narrowed eyelids into the quarter +whence the sounds reverberated. + +The man at his side, a loose-jointed American of the commercial caste, +paused momentarily in his task of masticating a fat dark cigar. + +"This way out," he commented thoughtfully. + +Lanyard nodded; but the third, a plumply ingratiative native of Geneva, +known to the ship as Emil Dressier, frowned in puzzlement. + +"Pardon, Monsieur Crane, but what is that you say--'this way out'?" + +"Simply," Crane explained, "I take the firing to mean the execution of our +nootral friends from Norway." + +The Swiss shuddered. "It is most terrible!" + +"Well, I don't know about that. They done their damnedest to fix it for us +to drown somewhere out there in the nice, cold English Channel. I'm just as +satisfied it's them, instead, with their backs to a stone wall in the +warm sunlight, getting their needin's. That's only justice. Eh, Monsieur +Duchemin?" + +"It is war," said Lanyard with a shrug. + +"And war is ... No: Sherman was all wrong. Hell's got perfectly good +grounds for a libel suit against William Tecumseh for what he up and said +about it and war, all in the same breath." + +Lanyard smiled faintly, but Dressler pondered this obscure reference with +patent distress. Crane champed his cigar reflectively. + +"What's more to our purpose," he said presently: "I shouldn't be surprised +if this meant the wind-up of our rest-cure here. That's the third +mine-layer they've collected this week--two subs, and now this benevolent +nootral. Am I right, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Who knows?" Lanyard replied with a smile. "Even now the mine-sweeping +flotilla is coming home, as you see; which means, the neighbouring waters +have been cleared. It is altogether a possibility that we may be permitted +to depart this night." + +Even so the event: as that day's sun declined amid a portentous welter of +crimson and purple and gold, the moorings were cast off and the _Assyrian_ +warped out into mid-channel and anchored there for the night. + +Inasmuch as she was to sail as the tide served, some time before sunrise, +the passengers were advised to seek their berths at an early hour. Thirty +minutes before the steamship entered the danger zone (as she would soon +after leaving the harbour) they would be roused and were expected promptly +to assemble on deck, with life-preservers, and station themselves near the +boats to which they were individually assigned. + +For their further comforting they were treated, in the ebb of the chill +blue twilight, to boat-drill and final instructions in the right adjustment +of life-belts. + +A preoccupied company assembled in the dining saloon for what might be +its last meal. In the shadow of the general apprehension, conversation +languished; expressions of relief on the part of those who had been loudest +in complaining at the delays were notably unheard; even Crane, Lanyard's +nearest neighbour at table, was abnormally subdued. Reviewing that array of +sobered and anxious faces, Lanyard remarked--not for the first time, but +with renewed gratitude--that in all the roster of passengers none were +children and but two were women: the American widow of an English officer +and her very English daughter, an angular and superior spinster. + +Avoiding the customary post-prandial symposium in the smoking room, Lanyard +slipped away with his cigar for a lonely turn on deck. + +Beneath a sky heavily canopied, the night was stark black and loud with +clashing waters. A fitful wind played in gusts now grim, now groping, like +a lost thing blundering blindly about in that deep darkness. Ashore a +few wan lights, widely spaced, winked uncertainly, withdrawn in vast +remoteness; those near at hand, of the anchored shipping, skipped and +swayed and flickered in mad mazes of goblin dance. To him who paced those +vacant, darkened decks, the sense of dissociation from all the common, +kindly phenomena of civilization was something intimate and inescapable. +Melancholy as well rode upon that black-winged wind. + +At pause beneath the bridge, the adventurer rested elbows upon the teakwood +rail and with importunate eyes searched the masked face of his destiny. +There was great fear in his heart, not of death, but lest death overtake +him before that scarlet hour when he should encounter the man whom he must +always think of as "Ekstrom." + +After that, nothing would matter: let Death come then as swiftly as it +willed.... + +He was not even middle-aged, on the hither side of thirty; yet his attitude +was that of one who had already crossed the great divide of the average +mortal span: he looked backward upon a life, never forward to one. To him +his history seemed a thing written, lacking the one word Finis: he had +lived and loved and lost--had arrayed himself insolently against God and +Man, had been lifted toward the light a little way by a woman's love, had +been thrust relentlessly back into the black pit of his damnation. He made +no pretense that it was otherwise with him: remained now merely the thing +he had been in the beginning, minus that divine spark which love had once +kindled into consuming aspiration toward the right; the Lone Wolf prowled +again to-day and would henceforth forevermore, the beast of prey callous +to every human emotion, animated by one deadly purpose, existing but to +destroy and be in turn destroyed.... + +Two decks below, about amidships, a cargo port was thrust open to the +night. A thick, broad beam of light leaped out, buffeting the murk, +striking evanescent glimmers from the rocking facets of the waters. +Deckhands busied themselves rigging out an accommodation ladder. A tender +of little tonnage panted nervously up out of nowhere and was made fast +alongside. The light raked its upper deck, picking out in passing a group +of men in uniforms. Fugitively something resembling a petticoat snapped +in the wind. Then several persons moved toward the accommodation ladder, +climbed it, disappeared through the cargo port. The wearer of the petticoat +did not accompany them. + +Lanyard noted these matters subconsciously, for the time altogether +preoccupied, casting forward his thoughts along those dim trails his feet +must tread who followed his dark star.... + +Ten minutes later a deck-steward found him, and paused, touching his cap. + +"Beg pardon, sir, but all passingers is requested to report immedately in +the music room." + +Indifferently Lanyard thanked the man and went below, to find the music +room tenanted by a full muster of his fellow passengers, all more or less +indignantly waiting to be cross-examined by the party of port officials +from the tender--the ship's purser standing by together with the second and +third officers and a number of stewards. + +Resentment was not unwarranted: already, before being suffered to take up +quarters on board the _Assyrian_, each passenger had submitted to a most +comprehensive survey of his credentials, his mental, moral, and social +status, his past record, present affairs, and future purposes. A formality +to be expected by all such as travel in war time, it had been rigid but +mild in contrast with this eleventh-hour inquisition--a proceeding so +drastic and exhaustive that the only plausible inference was official +determination to find excuse for ordering somebody ashore in irons. Nothing +was overlooked: once passports and other proofs of identity had been +scrutinized, each passenger was conducted to his stateroom and his person +and luggage subjected to painstaking search. None escaped; on the other +hand, not one was found guilty of flagitious peculiarity. In the upshot the +inquisitors, baffled and betraying every symptom of disappointment, were +fain to give over and return to their tender. + +By this time Lanyard, one of the last to be grilled and passed, found +himself as little inclined for sleep as the most timorous soul on board. +Selecting an American novel from the ship's library, he repaired to +the smoking room, where, established in a corner apart, he became an +involuntary and, at first, a largely inattentive, eavesdropper upon an +animated debate involving some eight or ten gentlemen at a table in the +middle of the saloon--its subject, the recent visitation. + +Measures so extraordinary were generally held to indicate an incentive more +extraordinary still. + +"You can't get away from it," he heard Crane declare: "there's some sort of +funny business going on, or liable to go on, aboard this ship. She wasn't +held up for a solid week out of pure cussedness. Neither did they come +aboard to-night to give us another once-over through sheer voluptuousness. +There's a reason." + +"And what," a satiric English voice enquired, "do you assume that reason to +be?" + +"Search me. 'Sfar's I'm concerned the processes of the British Intelligence +Office are a long sight past finding out." + +"It is simple enough," one of Crane's compatriots suggested: "the +_Assyrian_ is suspected of entertaining a devil unawares." + +"Monsieur means--?" the Swiss enquired. + +"I mean, the authorities may have been led to believe some one of us a +questionable character." + +"German spy?" + +"Possibly." + +"Or an English traitor?" + +"Impossible," asserted another Briton heavily. "There is to-day no such +thing in England. Two years ago the supposition might have been plausible. +But that breed has long since been stamped out--in England." + +"Another guess," Crane cut in: "they've taken considerable trouble to clear +the track for us. Maybe it occurred to somebody at the last moment to make +sure none of us was likely to pull off an inside job." + +"'Inside job?'" Dressler pleaded. + +"Planting bombs in the coal bunkers--things like that--anything to crab our +getting through the barred zone in spite of mines and U-boats." + +"Any such attempt would mean almost certain death!" + +"What of it? It's been tried before--and got away with. You've got to hand +it to Fritz, he'll risk hell-for-breakfast cheerful any time he gets it in +his bean he's serving Gott und Vaterland." + +"Granted," said the Englishman. "But I fancy such an one would find it far +from easy to secure passage upon this or any other vessel." + +"How so? You may have haltered all your traitors, but there's still +a-plenty German spies living in England. Even you admit that. And if they +can get by your Secret Service, to say nothing of Scotland Yard, what's to +prevent their fixing to leave the country?" + +"Nothing, certainly. But I still contend it is hardly likely." + +"Of course it's hardly likely. Look at these guys to-night--dead set on +making an awful example of anybody that couldn't come clean. I didn't +notice them missing any bets. They combed me to the Queen's taste; for +a while I was sure scared they'd extract my pivot tooth to see if there +wasn't something incriminating and degrading secreted inside it. And nobody +got off any easier. _I_ say the good ship _Assyrian_ has a pretty clean +bill of health to go sailing with." + +"On the other hand"--yet another American voice was speaking--"no spy or +criminal worth his salt would try to ship without preparations thorough +enough to insure success, barring accidents." + +"Criminal?" drawled the Briton incredulously. + +"The enterprisin' burglar keeps a-burglin', even in war time. There have +been notable burglaries in London of late, according to your newspapers." + +"And you think the thief would attempt to smuggle his loot out of the +country aboard such a ship as this?" + +"Why not?" + +"Scotland Yard to the contrary notwithstanding?" + +"If Scotland Yard is as efficient as you think, sir, certainly any sane +thief would make every effort to leave a country it was making too hot for +him." + +"Considerable criminal!" Crane jeered. + +"Undeceive yourself, seńor." This was a Brazilian, a quiet little dark body +who commonly contented himself with a listening rôle in the smoking-room +discussions. "There are truly criminals of intelligence. And war conditions +are driving them out of Europe." + +Of a sudden Lanyard--stretched out at length upon the leather cushions, +in full view of these gossips--became aware that he was being closely +scrutinised. By whom, with what reason or purpose, he could not surmise; +and it were unwise to look up from that printed page. But that sixth sense +of his--intuition, what you will--that exquisitively sensitive sentinel +admonished that at least one person in the room was watching him narrowly. + +Though he made no move other than to turn a page, his glance followed +blindly blurring lines of text, and his quickened wits overlooked no shade +of meaning or intonation as that talk continued. + +"A criminal of intelligence," some one observed, "is a giddy paradox whose +fatuous existence is quite fittingly confined to the realm of fable." + +"You took the identical words right out of my mouth," Crane complained +bitterly. + +"Your pardon, seńores: history confutes your incredulity." + +"But we are talking about to-day." + +"Even to-day--can you deny it?--men attain high places by means which the +law would construe as criminal, were they not intelligent enough to outwit +it." + +"Big game," Crane objected; "something else again. What we contend is no +man of ordinary common sense could get his own consent to crack a safe, or +pick a pocket, or do second-story work, or pull any rough stuff like that." + +"Again you overlook living facts," persisted the Brazilian. + +"Name one--just one." + +"The Lone Wolf, then." + +"Unnatural history is out of my line," Crane objected. "Why is a lone wolf, +anyway?" + +The Brazilian's voice took on an accent of exasperation. "Seńores, I do not +jest. I am a student of psychology, more especially of criminal psychology. +I lived long in Paris before this war, and took deep interest in the case +of the Lone Wolf." + +"Well, you've got me all excited. Go on with your story." + +"With much pleasure.... This gentleman, then, this Michael Lanyard, as he +called himself, was a distinguished Parisian figure, a man of extraordinary +attainment, esteemed the foremost connoisseur d'art in all Europe. +Suddenly, at the zenith of his career, he disappeared. Subsequently it +became known that he had been identical with that great Parisian criminal, +the Lone Wolf, a superman of thieves who had plundered all Europe with +unvarying success for almost a decade." + +"Then what made the silly ass quit?" + +"According to my information, he won the love of a young woman--" + +"And reformed for her sake, of course?" + +"To the contrary, seńor; Lanyard renounced his double life because of a +theory on which he had founded his astonishing success. According to this +theory, any man of intelligence may defy society as long as he will, always +providing he has no friend, lover, or confederate in whom to confide. A man +self-contained can never be betrayed; the stupid police seldom apprehend +even the most stupid criminal, save through the treachery of some intimate. +This Lanyard proved his theory by confounding not only the utmost +efforts of the police but even the jealous enmity of that association of +Continental criminals known as the Bande Noire--until he became a lover. +Then he proved his intelligence: in one stroke he flouted the police, +delivered into their hands the inner circle of the Bande Noire, and +vanished with the woman he loved." + +"And then--?" + +"The rest," said the Brazilian, "is silence." + +"It is for to-night, anyway," Crane observed, yawning. "It's bedtime. Here +comes the busy steward to put the lights and us out." + +There was a general stir; men drained glasses, knocked out pipes, got up, +murmured good-nights. Lanyard closed the American novel upon a forefinger, +looked up abstractedly, rose, moved toward the door. The utmost effort of +exceptional powers of covert observation assured him that, at the moment, +none of the company favoured him with especial attention; the author of +that interest whose intensity had so weighed upon his consciousness had +been swift to dissemble. + +On his way forward he exchanged bows and smiles with Crane and one or two +others, his gesture completely casual. Yet when he entered the starboard +alleyway he carried with him a complete catalogue of those who had +contributed to the conversation. With all, thanks to seven days' +association, he stood on terms of shipboard acquaintance. Not one, in his +esteem, was more potentially mischievous than any other--not even the +Brazilian Velasco, though he had been the first to name the Lone Wolf. + +It was, furthermore, quite possible that the mention of his erstwhile +sobriquet had been utterly fortuitous. + +And yet, one might not forget that sensation of being under intent +surveillance.... + +In his stateroom Lanyard stood for several minutes gravely peering into the +mirror above the washstand. + +The face he scanned was lean and worn in feature, darkly weathered, framed +in hair whose jet already boasted an accent of silver at either temple--the +face of a man inured to hardship, seasoned in suffering, strong in +self-knowledge. The incandescence of an intelligence coldly dispassionate, +quick and shrewd, lighted those dark eyes. Distinctively a face of Gallic +cast, three years of long-drawn torment had served in part to erase from +it wellnigh all resemblance to both the brilliant social freebooter of +ante-bellum Paris and that undesirable alien whom the authorities had +sought to deport from the States. Amazing facility in impersonation had +done the rest; unrecognisable as what he had been, he was to-day flawlessly +the incarnation of what he elected to seem--Monsieur Duchemin, gentleman, +of Paris. + +Impossible to believe his disguise had been so soon penetrated.... + +And yet, again, that gossip of the smoking room.... + +Police work? Or had Ekstrom's creatures picked up his trail once more? + +Beneath that urbane mask of his, a hunted, wild thing poised in question, +mistrustful of the very wind, prick-eared, fangs agleam, eyes grimly +apprehensive.... + +A little sound, the least of metallic clicks, breaking the hush of his +solitude, froze the adventurer to attention. Only his glance swerved +swiftly to a fastened door in the forward partition--his stateroom being +the aftermost of three that might be thrown together to form a suite. The +nickeled knob was being tried with infinite precaution. On the half turn it +checked with a faint repetition of the click. Then the door itself quivered +almost imperceptibly to pressure, though it yielded not a fraction of an +inch. + +Lanyard's eyes hardened. He did not stir from where he stood, but one hand +whipped an automatic from his pocket while the other darted out to the +switch-box by the head of his berth and extinguished the light. + +Instantly a glimmer of light in the forward stateroom showed through +a narrow strip of iron grill-work set in the top of the partition for +ventilating purposes. + +Simultaneously the door-knob was gently released, and with another louder +click the light in the adjoining cubicle was blotted out. + +Mystified, Lanyard undressed and turned in, but not to sleep--not for a +little, at least. + +Who might this neighbour be who tried his door so stealthily? Before +to-night that room had had no tenant. Apparently one of the passengers had +seen fit to shift his quarters. To what end? To keep a jealous eye on +the Lone Wolf, perhaps? So much the better, then: Lanyard need only make +enquiry in the morning to identify his enemy. + +Deliberately closing his eyes, he dismissed the enigma. He possessed in +marked degree that attribute of genius, ability to command slumber at will. +Swiftly the troubled deeps of thought grew calm; on their placid surface +inconsequent visions were mirrored darkly, fugitive scenes from the store +of subconscious memory: Crane's lantern-jawed physiognomy, keen eyes +semi-veiled by humorously drooping lids, the extreme corner of his mouth +bulging round his everlasting cigar ... grimy lions in Trafalgar Square of +a rainy afternoon ... the octagonal room of L'Abbaye Thęléme at three in +the morning, a swirl of Bacchanalian shapes ... Wertheimer's soldierly +figure beside the telegraphers' table in that noisome cave at the Front ... +the deck of a tender in darkness swept by a shaft of yellow light which +momentarily revealed a group of folk with upturned faces, a petticoat +fluttering in its midst.... + + + + +III + +IN THE BARRED ZONE + + +Day broke with rather more than half a gale blowing beneath a louring sky. +Once clear of the bottleneck mouth of the harbour, the _Assyrian_ ran into +brutal quartering seas. An old hand at such work, for upward of a decade +a steady-paced Dobbin of the transatlantic lanes, she buckled down to it +doggedly and, remembering her duty by her passengers, rolled no more than +she had to, buried her nose in the foaming green only when she must. For +all her care, the main deck forward was alternately raked by stinging +volleys of spray and scoured by frantic cascades. More than once the crew +of the bow gun narrowly escaped being carried overboard to a man. Blue with +cold, soaked to the buff despite oilskins, they stuck stubbornly to their +posts. Perched beyond reach of shattering wavecrests, the passengers on the +boat-deck huddled unhappily in the lee of the superstructure--and snarled +in response to the cheering information that better conditions for baffling +the ubiquitous U-boat could hardly have been brewed by an indulgent +Providence. Sheeting spindrift contributed to lower visibility: two +destroyers standing on parallel courses about a mile distant to port and +to starboard were more often than not barely discernible, spectral vessels +reeling and dipping in the haze. The ceaseless whistle of wind in the +rigging was punctuated by long-drawn howls which must have filled any +conscientious banshee with corrosive envy. + +Toward mid-morning rain fell in torrents, driving even the most fearful +passengers to shelter within the superstructure. A majority crowded the +landing at the head of the main companionway close by the leeward door. +Bolder spirits marched off to the smoking room--Crane starting this +movement with the declaration that, for his part, he would as lief drown +like a rat in a trap as battling to keep up in the frigid inferno of those +raging seas. A handful of miserables, too seasick to care whether the ship +swam or sank, mutinously took to their berths. + +Stateroom 27--adjoining Lanyard's--sported obstinately a shut door. +Lanyard, sedulous not to discover his interest by questioning the stewards, +caught never a glimpse of its occupant. For his own satisfaction he took a +covert census of passengers on deck as the vessel entered the danger zone, +and made the tally seventy-one all told--the number on the passenger list +when the _Assyrian_ had left her landing stage the previous evening. + +It seemed probable, therefore, that the person in 27 had come aboard from +the tender, either with or following the official party. Lanyard was +unable to say that more had not left the tender than appeared to sit in +inquisition in the music room. + +By noon the wind was beginning to moderate, and the sea was being beaten +down by that relentlessly lashing rain. Visibility, however, was more low +than ever. A fairly representative number descended to the dining saloon +for luncheon--a meal which none finished. Midway in its course a thunderous +explosion to starboard drove all in panic once more to the decks. + +Within two hundred yards of the _Assyrian_ a floating mine had destroyed a +patrol boat. No more was left of it than an oil-filmed welter of splintered +wreckage: of its crew, never a trace. + +Imperturbably the _Assyrian_ proceeded. Not so her passengers: now the +smoking room was deserted even by the insouciant Crane, and the seasick to +a woman brought their troubles back to the boat-deck. + +Alone the tenant of 27 stopped below. And the riddle of this ostensible +indifference to terrors that clawed at the vitals of every other soul on +board grew to intrigue Lanyard to the point of obsession. Was the reason +brute apathy or sheer foolhardihood? He refused either explanation, +feeling sure some darker and more momentous motive dictated this obstinate +avoidance of the public eye. Exasperation aroused by failure to fathom the +mystery took precedence in his thoughts even to the personal solicitude +excited by last night's gossip of the smoking room.... + +With no other disturbing incident the afternoon wore away, the wind +steadily flagging, the waves as steadily subsiding. When twilight closed in +there was nothing more disturbing to one's equilibrium than a sea of long +and sullen rolls scored by the pelting downpour. + +Perhaps as many as ten venturesome souls dined in the saloon, their fellows +sticking desperately to the decks and contenting themselves with coffee and +sandwiches. + +Daylight waned, terrors waxed: passengers instinctively gravitated into +little knots and clusters, conversing guardedly as if fearful lest their +normal accents bring down upon them those Apaches of the underseas for +signs of whom their frightened glances incessantly ranged over-rail and +searched the heaving wastes. + +The understanding was tacit that all would spend the night on deck. + +Dusk at length blotted out the shadows of their guardian destroyers, and a +great and desolating loneliness settled down upon the ship. One by one +the passengers grew dumb; still they clung together, but seemingly their +tongues would no more function. + +With nightfall, the rain ceased, the breeze freshened a trifle, the pall of +cloud lifted and broke, giving glimpses of remote, impersonal stars. Later +a gibbous moon leered through the flying wrack, checkering the sea with +a restless pattern of black and silver. In this ghastly setting the +_Assyrian_, showing no lights, a shape of flying darkness pursuing a course +secret to all save her navigators, strained ever onward, panting, groaning, +quivering from stem to stern ... like an enchanted thing doomed to +perpetual labours, striving vainly to break bonds invisible that transfixed +her to one spot forever-more, in the midst of that bleak purgatory of +shadow and moonshine and dread.... + +Sensitive to the eerie influence of the hour, Lanyard interrupted the tour +of the decks which he had steadily pursued for the better part of the +evening, and rested at the forward rail, looking down over the main deck, +its bleached planking dotted with dark shapes of fixed machinery. In the +bows the formless, uncouth bulk of the gun squatted in its tarpaulin. Its +crew tramped heavily to and fro, shivering in heavy jackets, hands in +pockets, shoulders hunched up to ears. Farther aft an iron door clanged +heavily behind a sailor emerging from an alleyway; he approached the ship's +bell, with practised hand sounded two double strokes, then turned and sang +out in the weird minor traditional in his calling: + +"_Four bells--and a-a-all's well_!" + +Even as the wind made free with the melancholy echoes of that assurance, +the spell upon the ship was exorcised. + +Overhead, from the foremast crow's-nest, a voice screamed, hoarsely urgent: + +"_Torpedo! 'Ware submarine to port_!" + +Many things happened simultaneously, or in a span of seconds strangely +scant. The gunners sprang to station, whipping away the tarpaulin, while +their lieutenant focussed binoculars upon the confused distances of the +night. Obedient to his instructions, the long, gleaming tube of steel +pivoted smoothly to port. + +From the bridge a signal rocket soared, hissing. The whistle loosed +stentorian squalls of indignation and distress--one long and four short. +Commands were shouted; the engine-room telegraph wrangled madly. The +momentum of the _Assyrian_ was checked startlingly; her bows sheered +smartly off to port. + +A rumour of frightened voices and pounding feet came from the leeward +boat-deck, where the main body of the passengers was congregated, hidden +from Lanyard by the shoulder of the foreward deck-house. A number of men +ran forward, paused by the rail, stared, and scurried back, yelling in +alarm. At this the din swelled to uproar. + +Scanning closely the surface of the sea, Lanyard himself descried a silvery +arrow of spray lancing the swells, making with deadly speed toward the port +bow of the _Assyrian_. But now both screws were churning full speed astern; +the vessel lost headway altogether. Then her engines stopped. For a +breathless instant she rested inert, like something paralyzed with fright, +bows-on to the torpedo, the telegraph ringing frantically. Then the +starboard screw began to turn full ahead, the port remaining idle. The +bows swung off still more sharply to port. The torpedo shot in under them, +vanished for a breathless moment, reappeared a boat's-length to starboard, +plunged harmlessly on its unhindered way down the side of the vessel, and +disappeared astern. + +Amidships terrified passengers milled like sheep, hampering the work of the +boat-crews at the davits. Ship's officers raged among them, endeavouring +to restore order. Half a mile or so dead ahead a tiny tongue of flame spat +viciously in the murk. A projectile shrieked overhead, and dropped into the +sea astern. Another followed and fell short. + +The U-boat was shelling the _Assyrian_. + +The forward gun barked violent expostulation, if without visible effect; +the submarine lobbing two more shells at the steamship with an indifference +to its own peril astonishing in one of its craven breed, trained to strike +and run before counterstroke may be delivered. Its extraordinary temerity, +indeed, argued ignorance of the convoying destroyers. + +Coincident with the second shot, however, these unleashed searchlights +slashed the dark through and through with their great, white, fanlike +blades, till first one then the other picked up and steadied relentlessly +upon a toy-boat shape that swam the swells about midway between the +_Assyrian_ and the destroyer off the port bows. + +Simultaneously the quickfirers of the latter went into action, jetting +orange flame. In the searchlights' glare, spurts of white water danced all +round the submarine. A mutter of gunfire rolled over to the _Assyrian_, +abruptly silenced by an imperative deep voice of heavier metal--which spoke +but once. + +With the lurid unreality of clap-trap theatrical illusion the U-boat +vomited a great, spreading sheet of flame.... + +Someone at the rail, near Lanyard's shoulder, uttered a hushed cry of +horror. + +He paid no heed, his interest wholly focussed upon that distant patch of +shining water. As his dazzled vision cleared he saw that the submarine had +disappeared. + +Unconsciously, in French, he commented: "So that is finished!" + +Likewise in French, but in a woman's voice of uncommon quality, deep +and bell-sweet, came the protest from the passenger at his side: "But, +monsieur, what are we doing? We turn away from them--those poor things +drowning there!" + +That was quite true: under forced draught the _Assyrian_ was heading away +on a new course. + +"They drown out there in that black water--and we leave them to that!" + +Lanyard turned. "The destroyers will take care of them," he said--"if any +survived that explosion with strength enough to swim." + +He spoke from the surface of his thoughts and with a calm that veiled +profound surprise. The woman by his side was neither the American widow nor +her English daughter, but wholly a stranger to the ship's company he knew. + +The training of the Lone Wolf had been wasted if one swift glance had +failed to comprehend every essential detail: that tall, straight, slender +figure cloaked in the folds of a garment whose hood framed a face of +singular pallor and sweetness in the moonlight, its shadowed eyes wide with +emotion, its lips a little parted.... + +With a shiver she lifted her hands to her eyes as if to darken the visions +of her imagination. + +"They die out there," she said, in murmurs barely audible.... "We turn our +backs on them.... You think that right?" + +"We play the game by the rules the enemy himself laid down," Lanyard +returned. "They would have sunk us without one qualm of pity--would, in all +probability, have shelled our boats had any succeeded in getting off. They +have done as much before, and will again. It is out of reason to insist +that the captain risk his ship in the hope of picking up one or two +drowning assassins." + +"Risk his ship? How? They are helpless--" + +"As a rule, U-boats hunt in pairs; always, when specially charged to sink +one certain vessel. It was so with the _Lusitania_, with the _Arabic_ as +well; I don't doubt it was so in this instance--that we should have heard +from a second submarine had not the destroyers opened fire when they did." + +The woman stared. "You think that--?" + +"That the Boche had specific instructions to waylay and sink the +_Assyrian_? I begin to think that--yes." + +This declaration affected the woman curiously; she shrank away a little, as +from a blow, her eyes winced, her pale lips quivered. When she spoke, it +was, strangely enough, in English so naturally enunciated that Lanyard +could not doubt that this was her mother tongue. + +"Then you think it is because...." + +Of a sudden she wilted, clinging to the rail and trembling wildly. + +Lanyard shot a glance aft. The disorder among the passengers was measurably +less, though excitement still ran so high that he felt sure they were as +yet unnoticed. On impulse he stepped nearer. + +"Pardon, mademoiselle," he said quietly; "you are excusably unstrung. +But all danger is past; and there is still time to regain your stateroom +unobserved. If you will permit me to escort you...." + +He watched her narrowly, but she showed no surprise at this suggestion of +intimacy with her affairs. After a brief moment she pulled herself together +and dropped a hand upon the arm he offered. In another minute he was +helping her over the raised watersill of the door. + +Like all the ship the landing and main companionway were dark; but below, +on the promenade deck, the second doorway aft on the starboard side stood +ajar, affording a glimpse of a dimly lighted stateroom. + +With neither hesitation nor surprise--for he was already satisfied in this +matter--Lanyard conducted the woman to this door and stopped. + +Her hand fell from his arm. She faltered on the threshold of Stateroom 27, +eyeing him dubiously. + +"Thank you, monsieur...?" + +There was just enough accent of enquiry to warrant his giving her the name: +"Duchemin, mademoiselle." + +"Monsieur Duchemin.... Please to tell me how you knew this was my +stateroom?" + +"I occupy Stateroom 29. There was no one in 27 till after the tender came +out last night. Furthermore, your face was strange, and I have come to know +all others on board during our week's delay in port." + +The light was at her back; he could distinguish little of her shadowed +features, but fancied her a bit discountenanced. + +In a subdued voice she said, "Thank you," once more, a hand resting +significantly on the door-knob. But still he lingered. + +"If mademoiselle would be so good as to tell me something in return--?" + +"If I can...." + +"Then why, mademoiselle, did you try my door last night?" + +"It was neither locked nor bolted on my side. I wished to make sure--" + +"So one fancied. Thank you. Good-night, mademoiselle...?" + +She was impervious to his hint. "Good-night, Monsieur Duchemin," she said, +and closed the door. + +Now Lanyard's quarters opened not on this alleyway fore-and-aft but on a +short and narrow athwartship passage. And as he turned away he saw out of +the corner of an eye a white-jacketed figure emerge from this passageway +and move hurriedly aft. Something furtive in the round of the fellow's +shoulders challenged his curiosity. He called quietly: + +"Steward!" + +There was no answer. By now the white jacket was no more than a blur moving +in that deep gloom. He cried again, more loudly: + +"I say, steward!" + +He could hardly see, but fancied that the man quickened his steps: in +another instant he vanished altogether. + +Smothering an impulse to give chase, the adventurer swung alertly into the +narrow passage and opened the door to Stateroom 29. The room was dark, but +as he fumbled for the switch, the door in the forward partition was thrust +open and the girl's slight figure showed, tensely poised against the light +behind her. + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" she cried, in a voice sharp with doubt. + +Lanyard turned the switch. "Mademoiselle," he said, and coolly crossed to +the port, drawing the light-proof curtains. + +"This door was locked all day--locked when the firing alarmed me and I went +out to the deck." + +"And on my side, mademoiselle, it was locked and bolted when last I was +here, shortly before dinner." "Whoever unfastened it entered my room during +my absence and tampered with my luggage." + +"You have missed something?" + +Gaze intent to his she nodded. He shrugged and cast shrewdly round his +quarters for some clue to the enigma. His glance fastened on a leather +bellows-bag beneath the berth. Dropping to his knees he pulled this out, +and looked up with a quizzical grimace, his forefinger indicating the lock, +which was uncaught. + +"I left this latched but not locked," he said. "Perhaps I, too, have lost +something." + +Opening the bag out flat, he sat back on his heels, with practised eye +inspecting its neat arrangement of intimate things. + +"Nothing has been taken, mademoiselle," he announced gravely. "But +something--I think--has been generously added. I seem to have an anonymous +admirer on board." + +Bending forward, he rummaged beneath a sheaf of shirts and brought forth +a small jewel-box of grained leather, with a monogram stamped on the +lid--"C.B." + +"The lock is broken," he observed, and handed it up to the woman. "As to +its contents, mademoiselle herself knows best...." + +The woman opened the box. + +"Nothing is missing," she said in a thoughtful voice. + +"I am relieved." Lanyard closed the bag, thrust it back beneath the berth, +and got upon his feet. "But you are quite sure--?" + +"My jewels are all in order," she affirmed, without meeting his gaze. + +"And you miss nothing else?" + +"Nothing." + +Was there an accent of hesitation in this response? + +"Then, I take it, the thief was disappointed." + +Now she glanced quickly at his eyes. "Why do you say that?" + +"If the thief had found what he sought, he would never have presented it +to me, mademoiselle would never again have seen her jewels. Failing in +his object, after breaking that lock, and interrupted by your unexpected +return, he planted the case with me, hoping to have me suspected. I am +fortunately able to prove the best of alibis.... So then," said Lanyard, +smiling, "it would appear that, though we met ten minutes ago for the first +time--and I have yet to know mademoiselle by name--we are allies in a +common cause." + +"My name is Brooke--Cecelia Brooke," she said quietly--"if it matters. But +why 'allies'?" + +"It appears we own a common enemy. Each of us possesses something which +that one desires--you a secret, I a good name. (Duchemin, indeed, I have +always held to be an excellent name.) I shall not hesitate to call on you +if my treasure is again violated. May I venture to hope mademoiselle will +prove as ready to command my services?" + +"Thank you. I fancy, however, there will be no need." + +She moved irresolutely toward the communicating door, paused in its frame, +eyeing him speculatively from under level brows. He detected, or imagined, +a tremor of impulse toward him, as though she faltered on the verge of some +grave confidence. If so, she curbed her tongue in time. Her gaze dropped, +fixed itself abstractedly on the door.... "This must be fastened," she +said, in a tone of complete disinterest. + +"I will speak to the chief steward immediately." + +"Don't trouble." She roused. "It doesn't matter, really, for to-night. I +shall leave what valuables I have in the purser's care and stop on deck +till daybreak." + +He gave a gesture of bewilderment. "You abandon your seclusion--leave your +secret unguarded?" + +"Why not?" She shrugged slightly with a little _moue_ of discontent. "If, +as you assume, I had a secret, it was that for certain reasons I did not +wish my presence on board to become known. But it seems it has become +known: my secret is no more. So I need no longer risk being cut off from +the boats in the event of any accident." + +Momentarily her gravity was dissipated by a smile at once delightful and +provocative. + +"Once more, monsieur--good-night!" + +After some moments Lanyard, with a start, found himself staring blankly at +a blankly incommunicative communicating door. + + + + +IV + +IN DEEP WATERS + + +Following this abrupt introduction to his interesting neighbour, Lanyard +went back to his deck-chair and, bundling himself up against the cold, +settled down to ponder the affair and await developments in a spirit of +chastened resignation. That a dénouement would duly unfold he was quite +satisfied; that he himself must willy-nilly play some part therein he was +too well persuaded. + +Not that he wished to meddle. If this Miss Cecelia Brooke (as she named +herself) fostered any sort of intrigue, he wanted nothing so fervently +as to be left altogether out of it. But already he had been dragged in, +without wish or consent of his; whoever coveted her secret--whatever that +was, more precious to her than jewels--harboured designs upon his own as +well. It was his duty henceforth to go warily, overlooking no circumstance, +however trifling and inconsiderable it might appear. The slenderest thread +may lead to the heart of the most intricate maze--and the heart of this was +become Lanyard's immediate goal, for there his enemy lay perdu. + +It was never this man's fault to underrate an enemy, least of all +an unknown; and he entertained wholesome respect for Secret Service +operators--picked men, as a rule, the meanest no mean antagonist. And this +business, he fancied, had all the flavour of Secret Service work--one +of those blind duels, desperate and grim affairs of masked combatants +feinting, thrusting, guarding in the dark, each with the other's sword ever +feeling for his throat, fighting for life itself and making his own rules +as the contest swayed. + +But what was this Brooke girl doing in that galley? What conceivable motive +induced her to dabble those slender hands in the muck and blood of Secret +Service work? + +Lanyard was fain to let that question rest. After all, it was no concern of +his. There she was, up to her pretty eyebrows in some dark, bad business; +and it was not for him to play the gratuitous ass, rush in unasked, and +seek to extricate her.... + +Through endless hours he sat brooding, vision blindly focussed upon the +misty, shimmering mystery of that night. + +Ekstrom!... Slowly in his understanding intuition shaped the conviction +that it was Ekstrom whom he was fighting now, Ekstrom in the guise of one +of his creatures, some agent of the Prussian spy system who had contrived +to smuggle himself aboard this British steamship. + +Out of those nine in the smoking room the previous night, then, he must +beware of one primarily, perhaps of more. + +Four he was disposed, with reservations, to reckon negligible: Baron von +Harden, head of a Netherlands banking house, a silent body whose acute +mental processes went on behind a pallid screen of flabby features; Julius +Becker, a theatrical manager of New York, whose right name ended in ski; +Bartlett Putnam, late chargé d'affaires of the American embassy in Madrid; +Edmund O'Reilly, naturalized citizen of the United States, interested in +the manufacture of motor tractors somewhere in Michigan. + +Of the other five, two were English: Lieutenant Thackeray, a civilly +reticent gentleman whose right arm rested in a black silk sling, making +a flying trip to visit a married sister in New York; Archer Bartholomew, +Esq., solicitor, a red-cheeked, bright-eyed, white-haired, brisk little +Cockney, beyond the military age. + +There remained Dressier, the stout, self-satisfied Swiss, whose fawning +manner was possibly accounted for by his statement that he journeyed to +New York to engage in the trade of restaurateur in partnership with his +brother; Crane, long and awkward and homely, of saturnine cast, slow of +gesture and negligent as to dress, his humorous sense clouding a power +of shrewd intelligence; and Seńor Arturo Velasco, of Buenos Aires, +middle-aged, apparently extremely well-to-do, a thoughtful type, more +self-contained than most of his countrymen. + +One of these probably ... But which?... + +Nor must he permit himself to forget that the _Assyrian_ carried fifty-nine +other male passengers, in addition to her complement of officers, crew, and +stewards, that any one of these might prove to be Potsdam's cat's-paw. + +Awesome pallor tinged the eastern horizon, gaining strength, spread in +imperceptible yet rapid gradations toward the zenith. Stars faded, winked +out, vanished. Silver and purple in the sea gave place to livid gray. +Almost visibly the routed night rolled back over the western rim of the +world. Shafts of supernal radiance lanced the formless void between sky +and sea. Swollen and angry, the sun lifted up its enormous, ensanguined +portent. And the discountenanced moon withdrew hastily into the +immeasurable fastnessness of a cloudless firmament, yet failed therein to +find complete concealment. Keen, sweet airs of dawn raked the decks, now +to port, now to starboard, as the _Assyrian_ twisted and writhed on her +corkscrew way. + +Passengers whose fears had become sufficiently numb to permit them to +drowse, stirred in their chairs, roused blinking and blear-eyed, arose +and stretched cramped, cold bodies. Others lay listless, enervated by the +sleepless misery of that night. Crane found Lanyard awake and marched him +off for coffee and cigarettes in the smoking room. + +Later, starting out for a turn around the decks, they passed a deck-chair +sheltered in a jog where the engine-room ventilating shaft joined the +forward deck-house, in which Miss Brooke lay cocooned in wraps and furs, +her profile, turned aside from the sea, exquisitely etched against the rich +blackness of a fox stole. She slept as quietly as the most carefree, a +shadowy smile touching her lips. + +Crane's stride faltered. He whistled low. + +"In the name of all things wonderful! how did that get on board?" + +Lanyard mentioned the girl's name. "She has the stateroom next to +mine--came off that tender, night before last." + +"And me sore on that darn' li'l boat because it brought aboard all the +nosey Johnnies! Ain't it the truth, you never know your luck?" + +The American ruminated in silence till another lap of their walk took them +past the girl again. + +"Funny," he mused, "if that's why they held us up...." + +"Comment, monsieur?" + +"Oh, I was just wondering if it was on that young lady's account they kept +us kicking our heels back there so long." + +"I am still stupid," Lanyard confessed. + +"Why, she might be a special messenger, you know--something like that--the +British Government wanted to smuggle out of the country without anybody +suspecting." + +"Monsieur is a romantic." + +"You can't trust me," Crane averred unblushingly. + +When they passed the chair again it was empty. + +At breakfast Lanyard saw the girl from a distance: their places were +separated by the width of the saloon. She had no neighbours at her table, +did not look up when Lanyard entered, finished her meal some time before +he did, and retired immediately to her stateroom, in whose seclusion she +remained for the rest of the day. + +That second day was altogether innocent of untoward incident. At least +superficially the life of the ship settled into the groove of "business +as usual." Only the company of the _Assyrian's_ faithful convoys was an +ever-present reminder of peril. + +And in the middle of the afternoon she passed close by a derelict, a +torpedoed tramp, deep down by the stern, her bows helplessly high in air +and crimson with rust, the melancholy haunt of a great multitude of gulls. + +More than slightly to Lanyard's surprise he received no quiet invitation +to the captain's quarters to be interrogated concerning the burglary in +Stateroom 27. Apparently, the young woman had contented herself with +reporting merely that the communicating door had carelessly been left +unfastened. + +For his own part, neither seeking nor avoiding individual members of the +smoking-room group, Lanyard permitted himself to be drawn into their +company, and sat among them amiably receptive. But this profited him +scantily; there was no further talk of the Lone Wolf; he was not again +aware of that covert surveillance. + +But when--the evening chill driving him below to don a fur-lined +topcoat--the Brooke girl, coming up the companionway, acknowledged his look +of recognition with the most distant of nods, he accepted the apparent +rebuff without resentment. He understood. She was playing the game. The +enemy was watching, listening. After that he was studious to refrain from +seeming either to avoid or to seek her neighbourhood; and if he did keep a +sharp eye on her, it was so circumspectly as to mock detection. To the +best of his observation she found no friends on board, contracted no new +acquaintances, kept herself to herself within walls of inexorable reserve. + +Dawn, ending the second night at sea, found the _Assyrian_ pursuing a +course still devious, and now alone; the destroyers had turned back during +the night. The western boundary of the barred zone lay astern. Ahead, at +the end of a brief interval of time, the ivory towers of New York loomed, +a-shimmer with endless sunlight, glorious in golden promise. Accordingly, +the spirits of the passengers were exalted. The very ship seemed to grin in +self-complacence; she had won safely through. + +Unremitting vigilance was none the less maintained. No hour of the +twenty-four found either gun, forward or aft, wanting a full working crew +on the keen qui vive. The life boats remained on outswung davits; boat +drills for passengers as well as crew were features of the daily programme. +Regulations concerning light and smoking on deck after dark were rigidly +enforced. Fuel was never spared in the effort to widen the blue gulf +between the steamship and those waters wherein she had so nearly met her +end. By day a hunted thing, racing frantically toward a port of refuge in +the West, all her stout fabric labouring with titanic pulsations, shying in +panic from the faintest suspicion of smoke upon the horizon, the _Assyrian_ +slipped into the grateful obscurity of night like a snake into a thicket, +made herself akin to its densest shadows, strained hopelessly not to be +outdistanced by its fugitive mantle. + +And the benison of unseasonably clement weather was hers; day after shining +day, night after placid night, the Atlantic revealed a singularly gracious +humour, mirrored the changeful panorama of the heavens in a surface little +flawed. So that the most squeamish voyagers, as well as those most beset +with fears, slept sweetly in the comfort of their berths. + +Lanyard, however, never went to bed without first securing his door so that +it might be opened by force alone; and never slept without a pistol beneath +his pillow. + +But the truth is, he slept little. For the first time in his history he +learned what it meant to will sleep to come and have his will defied. He +lay for hours staring wide-eyed into darkness, hearkening to the steady +throbbing of the engines, unable to dismiss the thought that their every +revolution brought him so much nearer to America, so much the nearer to +his hour with Ekstrom. In vain he sought to fatigue his senses by +over-indulgence in his weakness for gambling. Day-long sessions at poker +and auction in the smoking room--where he found formidable antagonists, +principally in the persons of Crane, Bartlett Putnam, Velasco, Bartholomew, +Julius Becker and Baron von Harden--served only to forward his financial +fortunes; his luck was phenomenal; he multiplied many times that slender +store of English banknotes with which he had embarked upon this adventure. +But he left each exhausting sitting only to toss upon a wakeful pillow or +to roam uneasily the dark and desolate decks, a man haunted by ghosts of +his own raising, hagridden by passions of his own nurturing.... + +About two o'clock on the third night (the first outside the danger zone, +when every other passenger might reasonably be expected to be in his berth) +Lanyard lay in a deck-chair deep in shadows, wondering if it was worthwhile +to go below and woo sleep in his stateroom. By way of experiment he shut +his eyes. When after a moment he opened them again he was no longer alone. + +Some distance away, at the rail, the woman of Stateroom 27 was standing +with her back to Lanyard, looking intently forward, unquestionably ignorant +of his presence. + +Without moving, he watched in listless incuriosity till he saw her +straighten and stand away from the rail as if bracing herself against some +crisis. + +A man was coming aft from the entrance to the main companionway, impatience +in his stride--a tall man, of good carriage, muffled almost to the heels in +a heavy ulster, a steamer-cap well forward over his eyes. But the light was +poor, the pale shine of the aged moon blending trickily with the swaying +shadows; Lanyard was unable to place him among the passengers. There was +a suggestion of Lieutenant Thackeray--but that one was handicapped by one +shell-shattered arm, whereas this man had the use of both. + +He demonstrated that promptly, taking the girl into them. She yielded +herself gladly, with a hushed little cry, hiding her face in the bosom of +his ulster, clinging to him. + +This, then, was an assignation prearranged! Miss Cecelia Brooke had a lover +aboard the _Assyrian_, a lover whom she denied by day but met in stealth by +night! + +And yet, after that first, swift embrace, their conduct became oddly +unloverlike. The man released her of his own initiative, held her by the +shoulders at arm's length. There was irritation in his manner. He seemed +tempted to shake the young woman. + +"Celia! what madness!" + +So much, at least, Lanyard overheard; the rest was a mumble into the hand +which the girl placed over the man's lips. She cried breathlessly: "Hush! +not so loud!" + +And then she remembered to guard her own voice. In an undertone she spoke +passionately for a moment. The man interrupted in a tone of profound +vexation. She drew away, as if hurt, caught him up as he hesitated for a +word, returned, clung to the lapels of his coat, her accents rapid and +pitiful, eloquent of explanation, entreaty, determination. The man lifted +his hands to her wrists, broke her grasp, cut her brusquely short, put her +forcibly from him. She sobbed softly.... + +Thus swiftly the scene suffered disillusioning transition. The pretty +fiction of lovers meeting in secret was no more. Remained a man annoyed to +the verge of anger, a woman desperately importunate. + +The wind, sweeping aft, carried broken snatches of their communications: + +"... _all I have ... could not let you go_...." + +"_Insanity_!" + +"_I was desperate_...." + +"... _drive me mad with your nonsense_...." + +Lanyard sat up, scraping his chair harshly on the deck. Stricken mute, +the pair at the rail moved only to turn his way the pallid ovals of their +faces. + +Heedless of the prohibition, he struck a vesta, cupped its flame in his +hands, bending his face close and deliberately lighting a cigarette. +Appreciably longer than necessary he permitted the flare to reveal his +features. Then he blew it out, rose, sauntered to the rail, cast the +cigarette into the sea, went aft and so below, satisfied that the girl must +have recognised him and so knew that her secret was safe. + +But it was in an oddly disgruntled humour that he turned in--he who had +been so ready to twit Crane with his fantastic speculations concerning +the English girl, who had himself been the readiest to endue her with the +romantic attributes becoming a heroine of her country's Secret Service! +What if he must now esteem her in the merciless light of to-night's +exposure, as the most pitiable of all human spectacles, a poor lovesick +thing sans dignity, sans pride, sans heed for the world's respect, a woman +pursuing a man weary of her? + +He resented unreasonably the unreasonable resentment which the affair +inspired in him. + +What was it to him? He who had struck off all fettering bonds of common +human interests, who had renounced all common human emotions, who had set +his hand against all mankind that stood between him and that vengeful +purpose to which he had dedicated his life! He, the Lone Wolf, the +heartless, soulless, pitiless beast of prey! + +God in Heaven! what was any woman to him? + + + + +V + +ON THE BANKS + + +Unaccountably enough in his esteem, and more and more to Lanyard's +exasperation, the evil flavour of that overnight incident lasted; it +tinctured distastefully his first waking thoughts; and through all that +fourth day at sea his mood was dark with irrational depression. + +And the fifth day and the sixth were like unto the fourth. + +Constantly he caught himself on watch for the young woman, wondering how +she would comport herself toward him, unwilling witness though he had been +to that shabby scene. + +But, save distantly at meal times, he saw nothing of her. + +And though he knew that she was much on deck after midnight, he was +studious to keep out of her way. The tedium of stopping in a stuffy +stateroom, when the spell of restlessness was on him, waiting for the +sounds of his neighbour's return before he might venture forth, was +nothing; anything were preferable to figuring as the innocent bystander at +another encounter between the Brooke girl and her reluctant lover.... + +Then that happened which lent the business another complexion altogether. +Its second phase, of close development, drew toward an end. Subtle +underlying forces began to stir in their portentous latency. + +The rapiers which thus far had merely touched, shivering lightly against +each other, measuring each its opponent's strength, feeling out his skill, +fell apart, then re-engaged in sharp and deadly play. Steel met steel and, +clashing, struck off sparks whose fugitive glimmerings lightened measurably +the murk.... + +On the sixth night out, at eleven o'clock as a matter of routine, the +smoking room was closed for the night, terminating an uncommonly protracted +and, in Lanyard's esteem, irksome sitting at cards. Well tired, he went +immediately to his quarters, undressed, stretched out in his berth, and +switched off the light. + +Incontinently he found himself bedevilled by thoughts that would not rest. + +For upward of an hour he lay moveless, seeking oblivion in that very effort +to preserve immobility, while the _Assyrian_, lunging heavily on her way, +moaned and muttered tedious accompaniment to the chant of the working +engines. + +Despairing at length, and fretted by the closeness of his quarters, he got +up, dressed sketchily, and was shrugging into his fur-lined coat when he +heard the door to the adjoining stateroom open and close, stealth in the +sound of it. + +At that he hung up his overcoat, and threw himself down with a book on the +lounge seat beneath the port. The novel was dull enough in all conscience; +for that matter no tale within the compass of the cunningest weaver of +words could have enthralled his temper at that time. + +He read and read again page after page, but without intelligence. + +Between his eyes and the type-blackened paper mirages of the past trembled +and wavered; old faces, old scenes, old illusions took unsubstantial form, +dissolved, blended, faded away: a saddening show of shadows. + +His heavy eyelids drooped; slumber's drowsy vestments trailed lazily +athwart the sea of consciousness.... + +A slight noise startled him, either the shutting of the door to Stateroom +27, or the sound of the book dropping from his relaxed grasp. He sat up and +consulted his watch. The hour was half after twelve. + +The ship's bell sounded remotely a single, doleful stroke. + +He might have dozed five minutes or fifteen--long enough at least to leave +its tantalising effect of sleep desperately desirable, mockingly elusive, +almost grasped, whisked beyond grasping. And with this he was aware of +something even less tangible, a sense of something amiss, of something +vaguely wrong, as of an evil spirit stalking furtively through the darkened +labyrinth of the ship ... as impalpable and ineluctable as miasmic +exhalations of a morass.... + +Lanyard passed a hand across his forehead. Had he been dreaming, then? Was +this merely the reaction from some bitter nightmare? He could not remember. + +On sheer impulse he stood up, extinguished the light, opened the door. As +he did this he noted that a light burned in Stateroom 27, visible through +the ventilating grille. So the girl must have returned while he slept. Or +had she neglected to turn the switch when she went out? He could not be +certain. + +On the threshold he paused a little, attentive to the familiar rumour of +the ship by night: the prolonged sloughing of riven waters down the side, +gnashing of swells hurled back by the bows, sibilance of draughts in +alleyways, groaning of frames, a thin metallic rattle of indeterminate +origin, the crunching grind of the steering gear, the everlasting +deep-throated diapason of the engines, somewhere aft in that tier of +staterooms a persistent human snore ... nothing unusual, no alarming +discordance.... + +Yet the feeling that mischief was afoot would not be still. + +Lanyard moved down to the junction of the thwartship passage with the +fore-and-aft alleyway. + +Here he commanded a view of the promenade-deck landing and the main +companionway, all in darkness but for a feeble glimmer of reflected +starlight through the open deck port on the far side of the vessel. Beyond +this the rail was stencilled against the dull face of the sea with its far +lifting and falling horizon; within, no more was visible than the dimmed +whiteness of the forward partition, the dense, indefinite mass of balusters +winding up to the boat-deck, and the flat plane of the tiled landing. + +On this last, near the mouth of the port alleyway, half obscured by the +intervening balusters, something moved, something huge, black, and formless +swayed and writhed strangely, and in the strangest silence, like a dumb, +tormented misshapen brute transfixed to one spot from which its most +anguished efforts might not avail to budge it. + +Lanyard ran forward, rounded the well of the companionway, and pulled up. + +Now the nature of the thing was revealed. Blackly silhouetted against the +square of the doorway two human figures were close-locked and struggling +desperately, straining, resisting, thrusting, giving, recovering ... and +all with never a sound more than the deadened thump of a shifting foot or +the rasp of hard-won breathing. + +For several seconds the spectator could not distinguish one contestant from +the other. Then a change in the fortunes of war enabled him to make out +that one was a woman, the other, and momentarily more successful, a man. +Slender and youthful and strong, she fought with the indomitable fury of +a pantheress. He on his part had won this much temporary advantage--had +broken the woman's clutch upon his throat and was bending her back over +his hip, one hand fumbling at her windpipe, the other imprisoning her two +wrists. + +Yet she was far from being vanquished. Even as Lanyard moved toward the +pair, she drove a savage knee into the man's middle and, as he checked +instantaneously with a grunt of pained surprise, regained her footing and +planted both elbows against his chest, striving frantically to free her +hands. + +Simultaneously Lanyard took the fellow from behind, wound an arm around his +neck, jerked his head sharply back, twisted his forearm till he released +the woman's wrists, and threw him with a force that must have jarred his +every bone. + +The woman staggered back against the partition, panting and sobbing beneath +her breath. The man rebounded from his fall with astonishing agility, and +flew back at Lanyard. An object in his right hand gave off the dull gleam +of polished steel. + +Lanyard, his automatic in his stateroom, in the pocket of the overcoat +where he had deposited it when meaning to go out on deck, lacked any means +of defense other than his two hands; but his one-time fame as an amateur +pugilist had been second only to his fame as a connaisseur d'art; and to +one whose youth had been passed in association with the Apaches of Paris, +some mastery of la savate was an inevitable accomplishment. + +A lightning coup de pied planted a heel against one of the man's shins, +and his onslaught faltered in a gust of curses. Then the point of his jaw +received the full force of Lanyard's right fist with all the ill will +imaginable behind it. The man reared back, reeled into the black mouth of +the alleyway, fell heavily. + +Even so, he demonstrated extraordinary vitality and appetite for +punishment. He had no more gone down than the adventurer, peering into the +gloom, saw him struggle up on his knees. Instantly Lanyard made toward +him, intent on finishing this work so well begun, but in his second stride +tripped over a heavy body hidden in the shadows, and pitched headlong. +Falling, he was conscious of a flashing thing that sped past his cheek, +immediately above his shoulder. There followed an echoing thud against the +forward partition. + +Picking himself up smartly, Lanyard crept several paces down the alleyway, +flattening against the wall, straining his vision, listening intently, +rewarded by neither sign nor sound of his antagonist. + +That one must have been swift to advantage himself of Lanyard's tumble. +If he had not vanished into thin air, or gone to earth in some untenanted +stateroom thereabouts, he found in the close blackness of that narrow +passage a cloak of positive invisibility to cover his escape. + +And there is little wisdom in stalking an armed man whom one cannot see, +with what little light there is at one's own back. + +So Lanyard went back to the landing, stepping carefully over the obstacle +which had both thrown him and saved his life--the supine body of a third +man, motionless; whether dead or merely insensible, he did not stop to +investigate. His immediate concern was for the woman. + +As he came upon her now, she stood en profile to the partition, tugging +strongly at something embedded in the woodwork close by her side, between +her waist and armpit. At the sound of his approach she looked up with a +tremor of apprehension quickly calmed. + +"Monsieur Duchemin! If you please--" + +Lanyard, in no way surprised to recognise the voice of Miss Cecelia Brooke, +stepped closer. "What is it?" he enquired; and then, bending over to look, +found that her cloak was pinned to the partition by the blade of a heavy +knife buried a full half of its considerable length. + +"He threw it as you fell," the girl explained. "I was in the direct line." + +"Permit me, mademoiselle...." + +He laid hold of the haft of the weapon and with some difficulty withdrew +it. + +"Who was it?" he asked, weighing the knife in his palm and examining it as +closely as he could without the aid of light. + +There was no reply. Directly her cloak was freed, the girl had moved +hastily away to the body over which Lanyard had stumbled. He heard an +imploring whisper--"Please!"--and looked up to see her on her knees. + +"Who, then, is this?" he demanded, joining her. + +"Lionel--Lieutenant Thackeray. Please--O please!--tell me he is not dead." + +Her voice broke; he saw her slender body convulsed with racking emotions. +Kneeling, Lanyard made a hasty and superficial examination, necessarily no +more under the conditions. + +"His heart beats," he announced--"he breathes. I do not think him seriously +injured." He made as if to get up. "I will get a light--a flash-lamp from +my stateroom--or, better still, the ship's surgeon--" + +Her hand fell upon his arm. "Please, no! Not that--not now. Later, if +necessary; but now--surely, you can help me carry him to his stateroom." + +"You know the number?" + +"It's close by--30." + +"Find it, and light up. No--leave this to me; I can carry him without +assistance." + +The girl rose and disappeared. Lanyard passed his arms beneath the +Englishman's body, gathered him into them, and struggled to his feet: no +inconsiderable task. + +Light gushed from an open doorway, the third aft from the landing. +Staggering, the adventurer entered and deposited the body upon the berth. +Immediately the girl closed and bolted the door, then passed between him +and the berth to bend over the unconscious man. He lay in deep coma, limbs +a-sprawl, unpleasant glints of white between his half-closed eyelids, his +breathing stertorous through parted lips. Free of its sling, his wounded +arm dangled over the edge of the berth. In putting him down, Lanyard had +remarked that its sleeve had been slit to the shoulder, and that its +bandages were undone. Now, in amazement, he saw the arm was firm and +muscular, with an unbroken skin, never a sign of any injury in all its +length. + +Gently the girl lifted the lieutenant's head to the light, discovering a +hideously bruised swelling at the base of the skull, blood darkly matting +the close-clipped hair. + +She requested without looking round: "Water, please--and a towel." + +Obediently Lanyard ran hot and cold water into the hand-basin in equal +proportions. + +"Would it not be well now to call the ship's surgeon?" he suggested +diffidently. + +"Is that necessary? I am something of a nurse. This is simply a bad +contusion--no worse, I believe. He was struck down from behind, a cowardly +blow in the dark, as he started to go up on deck. I had been waiting for +him. When he didn't come I suspected something was wrong. I came down, +found him lying there, that brute kneeling over him." + +She spoke coolly enough, in contrast with the high excitement that inflamed +her eyes as she turned away from the berth. + +"Monsieur Duchemin, are you armed?" + +"I have this," he said, exhibiting the knife thrown by the would-be +murderer--a simple trench dagger, without distinguishing marks of any sort. + +"Then take this, please." Extracting an automatic pistol from a holster +belted beneath Thackeray's coat, she proffered it. "You won't mind staying +here a moment, standing guard, while I fetch a dressing from my room?" + +Before he could utter a word of protest she had slipped out into the +alleyway, shutting the door behind her. + +When several minutes had passed the adventurer found himself beset by +increasing concern. This long delay seemed not only inconsistent with her +solicitude, but indicated a possibility that the girl had braved unwisely +the chance of a resumption of hostilities on the part of her late and as +yet anonymous assailant. + +Darkening the room as a matter of common-sense precaution, Lanyard, pistol +in hand, stepped out into the alleyway in time to see the girl in the act +of rising from her knees on the landing, near the spot where Thackeray had +fallen. The light of her flash-lamp was blotted out as she came hurriedly +aft. + +Perplexed, he turned back and switched on the light as she entered. + +Her eyes challenged his almost defiantly. + +"Was I long?" she asked, breathless. "I dropped something...." + +Lanyard bowed without speaking. Instinctively he knew that she was lying; +and divining this in his attitude, she coloured and, disconcerted, turned +away. For a moment, while she busied herself arranging on a convenient +chair an assortment of first-aid accessories, he fancied that her +half-averted face wore a look of sullen chagrin, with its compressed lips, +downcast eyes, and faintly gathered brows. + +But directly she needed assistance, and requested it of him in a subdued +and impersonal manner, showing a countenance devoid of any incongruous +emotion. + +Lanyard, lifting the lieutenant's head and heavy torso, helped turn him +face downward on the berth, then stood aside, thoughtfully watching the +girl's deft fingers sop absorbent cotton in an antiseptic wash and apply it +to the injury. + +After a little, he said: "If mademoiselle has no more immediate use for +me--" + +"Thank you, monsieur. You have already done so very much!" + +"Then, if mademoiselle will supply the name of this assassin--" + +"I know it no more than you, monsieur!" She glanced up at him, startled. +"What do you mean to do?" + +"Why, naturally, lodge an information with the captain concerning this +outrage--" + +"Oh, please, no!" + +At a loss, Lanyard shrugged eloquently. + +"Not yet, at all events," she hastened to amend. "Let Lionel judge what is +best to be done when he comes to." + +"But, mademoiselle, who can say when that will be?" He pointed out the +ugly, ragged abrasion in the young Englishman's scalp exposed by the +cleansing away of the clotted blood. "No ordinary blow," he commented; +"something very like a slung-shot or a loaded cane did that work. If I may +venture again to advise--unless mademoiselle is herself a surgeon--" + +Her colour faded and she caught her breath sharply. "You think it as +serious as all that?" + +"I do not know. Such a blow might easily fracture the skull, possibly bring +about a concussion of the brain. Regard, likewise, his laborious breathing. +I most assuredly advise consulting competent authority." + +She did not immediately answer, turning back undivided attention to her +task; but he noticed that her hands were tremulous, however, dextrously +they finished dressing and bandaging the hurt; and deep distress troubled +the handsome eyes she turned to his when she rose. + +"You are right," she murmured--"unquestionably right, monsieur. We must +have the surgeon in...." + +But when Lanyard advanced a hand toward the bell-push, to call the steward, +she interposed in quick alarm: + +"No--if you please, a moment; I must have time to think!" Her slender +fingers writhed together in her agony of doubt and irresolution. "If only I +knew what to do...." + +Lanyard was dumb. There was, indeed, nothing helpful he could offer, who +was without a solitary tangible or trustworthy clue to the nature of this +strange business. + +He owned himself sadly mystified. In the light--or, rather, the shadow--of +this latest development, his revised suspicions seemed unwarranted to the +point of impertinence; unless, of course, one assumed the unknown assailant +to be a rejected lover or wronged husband. And somehow one did not, in +the presence of this clear-eyed, straight-limbed, courageous young +Englishwoman, so wanting in self-consciousness. + +And yet ... what the deuce was she to this man whom, indisputably, she +followed against his wish? + +And what conceivable chain of circumstances linked their fortunes with his, +and that double burglary of the first night out with this murderous assault +of to-night? + +Nor was to-night's work, considered by itself, lacking in questionable +features. + +Why had Thackeray carried that sound arm in a sling? How had its bandages +come to be unwrapped? Not in struggles before being placed hors de combat, +for he had never had a chance to resist. Had his assailant, then, unwrapped +it subsequently? If so, with what end in view? + +Why had this Miss Cecelia Brooke, surprising the thug at his work, joined +battle with him so bravely and so madly without calling for help? + +What hidden motive excused this singular hesitation to summon the surgeon, +this reluctance to inform the officers of the ship? + +What duplicity was that which the girl had paraded concerning her +procrastination when Lanyard had surprised her on her knees out there on +the landing? + +If this were what Lanyard had first inclined to think it, Secret Service +intrigue, surely it was weirdly intricate when an English girl hesitated +to safeguard an Englishman by taking into her confidence the officers of a +British ship, British manned! + +Nevertheless, and however much he might wonder and doubt, Lanyard would +never question her. Never of his own volition would he probe more deeply +into this mystery, take one farther step into the intricacies of its maze. + +So, in silence, he waited, passively courteous, at her further service if +she had need of him, content if she had not, tolerant of her tacit prayer +for time in which to think a way out of her difficulties. + +After some few moments he grew uncomfortably aware that he had become the +object of a speculative regard not at all unfavourable. + +He indulged in a mental gesture of resignation. + +Then what he had feared befell, not altogether as he had apprehended, but +in the girl's own fashion, if without material difference in the upshot. + +"I am afraid," said she in an even voice, so quietly pitched as to be +inaudible to any eavesdropper. "This becomes a task greater than I had +dreamed, more than my wits can cope with. Monsieur Duchemin...." + +She hesitated. He bowed slightly. "If mademoiselle can make any use of my +poor abilities, she has but to command me." + +"We--I have much to thank you for already, monsieur, much more than I can +ever hope to reward adequately--" + +"Reward?" he echoed. "But, mademoiselle--!" + +"Please don't misunderstand." She flushed a little, very prettily. "I am +simply trying to express my sense of obligation, not only for what you have +already done, but for what I mean to ask you to do." + +Again he bowed, without comment, amiably receptive. + +She resumed with perceptible effort: "I can trust you--" + +"You must make sure of that before you do," he warned her, smiling. + +"I am sure," she averred gravely. + +"You know nothing concerning me, mademoiselle--pardon! For all you know +I may be the greatest rogue in Christendom. And I must tell you in all +candour, sometimes I think I am." + +"What I may or may not know concerning you, Monsieur Duchemin, is +immaterial as long as I know you are what you have proved yourself to me, a +gentleman, considerate, generous, brave, and--not inquisitive." + +He was frankly touched. If this were flattery, tone and manner robbed it of +fulsomeness, rendered it subtle beyond the coarser perceptions of the man. +He knew himself for what he was, knew himself unworthy; and that part +of him which was unaffectedly French, whether by accident of birth or +influence of environment, and so impulsive and emotional, reacted in +spontaneous gratitude to this implicit acceptance of him for what he strove +to seem to be. + +"Mademoiselle is gracious beyond my deserts," he protested. "Only let me +know how I may be of use...." + +"In three ways: Continue to be lenient in your judgments, and ask me no +more questions than you must because ... I may not answer...." Her hands +worked together again. She added unhappily, in a faint voice: "I dare not." + +That, too, moved him, since he had been far from lenient in his judgments. +He responded the more readily: "All that is understood, mademoiselle." + +"Please go at once back to your stateroom, and as quietly as possible. +There is a bare chance you were not recognised, that nobody knows who came +to my aid to-night. If you can slip away without attracting attention, so +much the better for us, for all of us. You may not be suspected." + +"Trust me to use my best discretion." + +"Lastly ... take and keep this for me, till I ask you for it again. Hide it +as secretly as you can. It may be sought for, is certain to be if you are +believed to be in my confidence. It must not be found. And I may not want +it again before we land in New York." + +She extended a hand on whose palm rested a small and slender white +cylinder, no longer and little thicker than the toy pencil that dangles +from a dance-card: a tight roll of plain white paper enclosed in a wrapping +of transparent oiled silk, gummed fast down its length and, at either end, +sealed with miniature blobs of black wax. + +"Will you do this for me, Monsieur Duchemin? I warn you, it may cost you +your life." + +He took it, his temper veering to the whimsical. "What is life?" he +questioned. "A prelude--perhaps an overture to that great drama, Death. Who +knows? Who cares?" + +She heard him in a stare. "You place no value on life?" + +"Mademoiselle," he said, "I have lived nearly thirty years in this world, +three years in the theatre of war, seldom far from the trenches of one +front or another. I tell you, I know death too well...." + +He shrugged and put the roll of paper away in a pocket. + +"You understand it must not be taken from you under any circumstance? As a +last resort, it must be destroyed rather than yielded up." + +"It shall be," he said quietly. "Is there anything more?" + +She shook her head, thoughtfully knuckling her underlip. + +"How can I communicate with you in event of necessity after we get to New +York?" she asked. + +"I shall stop for a week or two at the Hotel Knickerbocker." + +"If anything should happen"--with a swift glance of anxiety toward the +motionless figure in the berth--"if anything should prevent my calling for +it within a week after our arrival, you will be good enough to deliver it +to--" She caught herself up quickly, the unuttered words trembling on her +lip. "I will write down the address of the person to whom you will deliver +it, and slip it underneath the door between our rooms--first making +certain you are there to receive it--if I do not ask you to return +the--thing--before we land." + +"That shall be as you will." + +"When you have memorized the address you will destroy it?" + +"Depend on that." + +"I think that is all. Thank you, Monsieur Duchemin--and good-night." + +She extended her hand. He saluted it punctiliously with fingertips and +lips. + +"If you will put out the light, mademoiselle, it may aid me to get away +unseen." + +She nodded and offered him Thackeray's pistol. "Take this. O, I have +another with me." + +Lanyard accepted the weapon and, when she had darkened the room, opened the +door, slipped out, and closed it behind him so noiselessly that the girl +could not believe he was gone. + +Nothing hindered his return to Stateroom 29. + +Fully two minutes after he had locked himself in he heard the distant +clamour of the annunciator, calling a steward to Stateroom 30. + + + + +VI + +UNDER SUSPICION + + +He sat for a long time on the edge of his berth, elbow on knee, chin in +hand, unstirring, gaze fixed upon that little cylinder of white paper +resting in the hollow of his palm, in profoundest concentration pondering +the problems it presented: what it was, what possession of it meant to +Michael Lanyard, what safe disposition to make of it pending welcome relief +from this unsought and most unwelcome trust. + +This last question alone bade fair to confound his utmost ingenuity. + +As for what it was, Lanyard was well satisfied that he now held the true +focus of this conspiracy, a secret of the first consequence, far too +momentous to the designs of England to be entrusted, though couched in the +most cryptic cipher ever mind of man devised, even to cables or mails which +England herself controlled. + +Solely to prevent this communication from reaching America, Lanyard +believed, Germany had sown mines broadcast in all the waters which the +_Assyrian_ must cross, and had commissioned her U-boats, without fail and +at whatever cost, to sink the vessel if by any accident she won safely +through the mine-fields. + +In the effort to steal this secret, German spies had sailed on the +_Assyrian_ knowing well the double risk they ran, of being shot like rats +if found out, of being drowned like neutrals if the ship went down through +the efforts of their compatriots. + +It was the zeal of Potsdam's agents, seeking the bearer of this secret, +which had caused the rifling of Miss Brooke's luggage when she fell under +suspicion, thanks to her clandestine way of coming aboard; and through the +same agency young Thackeray had been all but murdered when suspicion, for +whatever reason, shifted to him. + +To insure safe transmission of this communication, England had held the +_Assyrian_ idle in port, day after day, while her augmented patrols scoured +the seas, hunting down ruthlessly every submarine whose periscope dared +peer above the surface, and while her trawlers innumerable swept the +channels clear of mines. + +To prevent its theft, Lieutenant Thackeray had invented the subterfuge of +the "wounded" arm, amid whose splints and bandages (Lanyard never doubted) +the cylinder had been secreted. + +Finally, it was as a special agent, deep in her country's confidence, that +this English girl had smuggled herself aboard at the last moment, bringing, +no doubt, this very cylinder to be transferred to the keeping of Lieutenant +Thackeray or, perhaps, another confrčre, should she find reason to think +herself suspected, her trust endangered. + +Nothing strange in that; women had served their countries in such +capacities before; the secret archives of European chancellories are +replete with their records. Lanyard himself remembered many such women, +brilliant mondaines from many lands domiciled in that Paris of the so-dead +yesterday to serve by stealth their respective governments; but never, it +was true, a woman of the caste of Cecelia Brooke; unless, indeed, this were +an actress of surpassing talent, gifted to hoodwink the most skeptical and +least susceptible of men. + +And yet.... + +Lanyard's train of thought faltered. New doubt of the girl began to shadow +his meditations. Contradictory circumstances he had noted intruded, +uninvited, to challenge overcredulous conclusions concerning her. + +Would any secret agent worth her salt invite suspicion by making such a +conspicuously furtive embarkation, by such ostentatious avoidance of her +fellow passengers, by surrounding herself with an atmosphere of such +palpable mystery? Would such an one confess she had a "secret" to an utter +stranger, as she had to Lanyard that first night out? Would she, under any +conceivable circumstances, entrust to that same stranger that selfsame +secret upon whose inviolate preservation so much depended? + +And would she make love-trysts on the decks by night? + +Would a brother-agent take her in his arms, then reprove her with every +symptom of vexation for her "madness," her "insanity," her "nonsense" that +was like to "drive me mad"?--Thackeray's own words! + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits for some plausible reading of this +riddle. + +Was this Brooke girl possibly (of a sudden he sat bolt upright) a Prussian +agent infatuated with this young Englishman and by him beloved in spite of +all that forbade their passion? + +Did not this explanation reconcile every apparent inconsistency in her +conduct, even to the entrusting to a stranger of the stolen secret, the +purloined paper she dared not keep about her lest it be found in her +possession? + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. Visibly his features hardened. If this surmise of +his were any way justified in the outcome, he promised Miss Cecelia Brooke +an hour of most painful penitence. + +Woman or not, she need not look for mercy from him, who must ever be +merciless in his dealings with Ekstrom's crew. + +To be made that one's tool! + +The very thought was intolerable.... + +As for himself, possession of this paper meant that pitfalls were digged +for his every step. + +If ever the British found cause to suspect him, his certain portion would +be to face a firing squad in dusk of early day. + +If, on the other hand, these Prussian agents on board the _Assyrian_ ever +got wind of the fact that the cylinder was in his care, his fate was apt to +be a knife between his ribs the first time he was caught alone and--with +his back to the assassin. + +Two courses, then, were open to him: the most sensible and obvious, to go +straightway to the captain of the _Assyrian_, report all that he knew or +surmised, and turn over the paper for safekeeping; one alternative, to hide +the cylinder so absolutely that the most drastic search would overlook it, +yet so handily that he could rid himself of it at an instant's notice. + +But the first course involved denunciation of the Brooke girl. And what +if she were innocent? What if, after all, these doubts of her were the +specious spawn of facts misinterpreted, misconstrued? What if she proved to +be all she seemed? Could he, even though what he had warned her he might +be, the greatest rogue unhung, be false to a trust reposed in him by such a +woman? + +As to that, there was no question in his mind; he would never betray her, +lacking irrefutable conviction that she was an employee of the Prussian spy +system. + +Then how to hide the paper? + +Kneeling, Lanyard drew from beneath the berth his bellows-bag, selected +from its contents a black japanned tin case containing a rather elaborate +though compact trench medicine kit, the idle purchase of an empty afternoon +in London. Extracting from its fittings a small leather-covered case, he +replaced the kit, relocked and shoved the bag back beneath the berth. + +Then, standing over the hand-basin, he opened the leather-covered case. Its +velvet-lined compartments held a hypodermic syringe and needle, and a glass +phial of twenty-four one-thirtieth grain morphia tablets. + +Uncorking the phial, he shook out all the tablets, replaced three, then +slid the paper cylinder into the tube; it fitted precisely, concealed by +the label of the manufacturing chemist, leaving room for six more tablets. +Lanyard inserted four on top of the cylinder, moistening the lowermost +slightly to make it stick, recorked the phial, and returned it to its +compartment. + +Next he dissolved three morphia tablets in a little water in the bottom of +a glass, filled the syringe with the strong solution, fitted on the needle, +squirted most of the contents down the waste-pipe, and consigned the +remaining tablets to the same innocuous fate. + +Finally he replaced needle and syringe in the case, let the glass which had +held the solution stand without rinsing, and put the open case upon the +shelf above the basin. + +A light tapping sounded on the panels of his door. + +"Well? Who's there?" + +"Your steward, sir. Captain Osborne's compliments, an' 'e'd like to see you +in 'is room as soon as convenient, sir." + +"You may say I will come at once." + +"'Nk you, sir." + +A summons to have been expected as a sequel to the surgeon's report after +attending Lieutenant Thackeray; none the less, Lanyard had not expected it +so soon. + +Authority, he reflected, ran true to form afloat as well as ashore; it was +prompt enough when required to apply a pound or so of cure. Surely the +officers, at least the captain, must have been advised why this voyage +was apt to prove exceptionally hazardous; and surely in the light of such +information it had been wiser to set armed watches on every deck by night, +rather than permit the lives of passengers to be imperilled through the +possible activities of Prussian agents among them incogniti. + +And now that he was reminded of it, was not this, perhaps, but a device of +the enemy's to decoy him from the comparative safety of his stateroom? + +It was with a hand in his jacket pocket, grasping Thackeray's automatic, +that he presently left the room. The alleyway, however, was deserted except +for his steward; who, as he appeared, turned and led the way up to the +boat-deck. + +Rounding the foot of the companionway, Lanyard contrived a hasty glance +down the port alleyway. The door to Stateroom 30 was on the hook; a light +burned within. Outside a guard was stationed, a sailor with a cutlass: the +first application of the pound of cure! + +At the heels of his guide, he approached a door in the deck-house, devoted +to officers' accommodations, beneath the bridge. Here the steward knocked +discreetly. A heavy voice grumbling within was stilled for a moment, then +barked a sharp invitation to enter. The steward turned the knob, announced +dispassionately "Monseer Duchemin," and stood aside. Lanyard entered a +well-lighted room, simply but comfortably furnished as the captain's office +and sitting room; sleeping quarters adjoined, the head of a berth with a +battered pillow showing through a door a foot or so ajar. + +Four persons were present; the notion entered Lanyard's head that a fifth +possibly lurked in the room beyond, spying, eavesdropping: not a bad scheme +if Thackeray had an associate on board whose identity it was desirable to +keep under cover. + +The door closed gently behind him as he stood politely bowing, conscious +that the four faces turned his way were distinguished by a singular variety +of expression. + +Miss Cecelia Brooke was nearest him, beside a chair from which she had +evidently just risen, her pretty young face rather pale and set, a scared +look in her candid eyes. + +Beyond her, the captain sat with his back to a desk: a broad-beamed, +vigorous body, intensely masculine, choleric by habit, and just now in an +extraordinarily grim temper, his iron-gray hair bristling from his +pillow, and his stout person visibly suffering the discomfort of wearing +night-clothes beneath his uniform coat and trousers. Bending upon Lanyard +the steel-hard regard of small, steel-blue eyes, he drummed the arms of his +chair with thick and stubby fingers. + +To one side, standing, was the third officer, a Mr. Sherry, a youngish man +with a pleasant cast of countenance which temporarily wore a look, rarely +British, of ingrained sense of duty at odds with much embarrassment. + +Lastly Mr. Crane's lanky person was draped, with its customary effect of +carelessness, on one end of the lounge seat. He looked up, nodded shortly +but cheerfully to Lanyard, then resumed a somewhat quizzical contemplation +of the half-smoked cigar which etiquette obliged him to neglect in the +presence of a lady. + +"This is the gentleman?" Captain Osborne queried heavily of the girl. +Receiving a murmured affirmative, he continued: "Good morning, Monsieur +Duchemin.... Thanks, Miss Brooke; we won't keep you up any longer +to-night." + +He rose, bowed stiffly as Mr. Sherry opened the door for the girl, and when +she was gone threw himself back into his chair with a force which made it +enter a violent protest. + +"Sit down, sir. Daresay you know what we want of you." + +"It is not difficult to guess," Lanyard admitted. "A sad business, +monsieur." + +"Sad!" the captain iterated in a tone of harsh sarcasm. "That's a mild name +to give murder." + +Even had it not been blurted violently at him, that word was staggering. +The adventurer echoed it blankly. "You can't mean Lieutenant Thackeray--?" + +"Not yet, though doctor says it may come to that; the poor chap's in a bad +way--concussion." + +"So one feared. But monsieur said 'murder'...." + +Captain Osborne sat forward, steely gaze mercilessly boring into Lanyard's +eyes. "Monsieur Duchemin," he said slowly, "Lieutenant Thackeray was not +the only passenger to suffer through to-night's villainy. The other died +instantly." + +"In God's name, monsieur--who?" + +"Bartholomew." + +"Mr. Bartholomew!" A memory of that brisk little body's ruddy, cheerful, +British personality flashed athwart the screen of memory. Lanyard murmured: +"Incredible!" + +"Murdered," the captain proceeded, "in Stateroom 28. Lieutenant Thackeray +and he were friends, shared the suite. Apparently Mr. Bartholomew heard +some unusual noise in 30 and left his berth to investigate. He was struck +down from behind as he approached the communicating door. The murderer had +got in by way of the sitting room, 26." + +Mr. Sherry added in an awed voice: "Frightful blow--skull crushed like an +eggshell." + +There was a pause. Crane thoughtfully relighted his cigar, and wrapped his +right cheek round it. The captain glared glassily at Lanyard. Mr. Sherry +looked, if possible, more uncomfortable than ever. Lanyard pondered, +aghast. + +Ekstrom's work, of a certainty! This was his way, the way he imposed upon +his creatures. Ekstrom, ever a killer, obsessed by the fallacious notion +that dead men tell no tales.... + +And Bartholomew had been in this mess with Thackeray, both of them +operatives of the British Secret Service! + +"Miss Brooke has given her version of the attack on Lieutenant Thackeray," +the captain pursued. "Be good enough to let us have yours." + +Succinctly Lanyard recounted the happenings between the moment when +premonition of evil drew him from his stateroom and the moment when he +returned thereto. + +He was at pains, however, to omit all mention of the cylinder of paper; +that, pending definite knowledge to the contrary, was a sacred trust, a +matter of his honour, solely the affair of the Brooke girl. + +The captain squared himself toward Lanyard, his face louring, his jaw +pugnacious. + +"How did you happen to be up and dressed at that late hour, so ready to +respond to this--ah--premonition of yours?" + +"I sleep not well, monsieur. It was my intention to go on deck and +endeavour to walk off my insomnia." + +Captain Osborne commented with a snort. + +"Why did you leave Miss Brooke alone before she called the doctor?" + +"At mademoiselle's request, naturally." + +"You'd been deuced gallant up to that time. I presume it didn't occur to +you that the young woman might need further protection?" + +Lanyard shrugged. "It did not occur to me to refuse her request, monsieur." + +"Didn't it strike you as odd she should wish to be left alone with +Lieutenant Thackeray?" + +"It was not my affair, monsieur. It was her wish." + +"Excuse me, cap'n." Crane sat up. "I'd like to ask Mr. Lanyard a question." + +But Lanyard had prepared himself against that, and acknowledged the touch +with a quiet smile and the hint of a bow. + +"Monsieur Crane...." + +"U.S. Secret Service," Crane informed him with a grin. "Velasco spotted +you--had seen you years ago in Paruss--tipped me off." + +"So one inferred. And these gentlemen?" Lanyard indicated the captain and +third officer. + +"I wised them up--had to, when this happened." + +"Naturally, monsieur. Proceed...." + +"I only wanted to ask if you noticed anything to make you think perhaps +there was an understanding between Miss Brooke and the lieutenant?" + +"Why should I?" + +"I ain't curious why you should. What I want to know is, did you?" + +"No, monsieur," Lanyard lied blandly. + +"The little lady didn't seem to take on more'n she naturally would if the +lieutenant'd been a stranger, eh?" "How to judge, when one has never seen +mademoiselle distressed on behalf of another?" + +Crane abandoned his effort, resuming contemplation of his cigar. + +"Now we come to the point. Monsieur Lanyard, or whatever your name is." + +"I have found Duchemin very agreeable, monsieur le capitaine." + +"I daresay," Captain Osborne sneered. He hesitated, glowering in the +difficulty of thinking. "See here, Monsieur Duchemin--since you prefer that +style--I'm not going to beat about the bush with you. I'm a plain man, +plain-spoken. They tell me you reformed. I don't know anything about that. +It's my conviction, once a thief, always a thief. I may be wrong." + +"Right or wrong, monsieur might easily be less offensive." + +The captain's dark countenance became still more darkly congested. +Implacable prejudice glinted in his small eyes. Nor was his temper softened +by the effrontery of this offender in giving back look for look with a calm +poise that overshadowed his arrogance of an honest, law-abiding man. + +He made a vague gesture of impatience. + +"The point is," he said, "this crime was accompanied by robbery." + +"Am I to understand I am accused?" + +"Nobody is accused," Crane cut in hastily. + +"You have found no clues--?" + +"Nary clue." + +"What I want to say to you, Monsieur Duchemin, is this: the stolen property +has got to be recovered before this ship makes her dock in New York. +It means the loss of my command if it isn't. It means more than that, +according to my information; it means a disastrous calamity to the Allied +cause. And you're a Frenchman, Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"And a thief. Monsieur le capitaine must not forget his pet conviction." + +"As to that, a man can't always be particular about the tools he employs. I +believe the old saying, set a thief to catch a thief, holds good." + +"Do I understand," Lanyard suggested sweetly, "you are about to honour me +by utilizing my reputed talents, by commissioning a thief to catch this +thief of to-night?" + +"Precisely. You know more of this matter than any of us here. You were at +hand-grips with the murderer--and let him get away." + +"To my deep regret. But I have told you how that happened." + +"Seems a bit strange you made no real effort to find out what the scoundrel +looked like." + +"It was dark in that alleyway, monsieur." + +The captain made an inarticulate noise, apparently meant to convey an +effect of ironic incredulity. More intelligible comment was interrupted by +a ring of the telephone. He swung around, clapped receiver to ear, snapped +an impatient "Well?" and listened with evident exasperation. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. This business of telephoning was conceivably +well-timed; not improbably the captain was receiving the report of somebody +who had been sent to search Stateroom 29 in Lanyard's absence. He wondered +and, wondering, glanced at Crane, to find that gentleman watching him with +a whimsical glimmer which he was quick to extinguish when the captain said +curtly, "Very good, Mr. Warde," and turned back from the telephone, his +manner more than ever truculent. + +"Mr. Lanyard," he said--"Monsieur Duchemin, that is--a valuable paper has +been stolen, an exceedingly valuable document. I don't know which carried +it, Lieutenant Thackeray or Mr. Bartholomew. But I do know such a paper was +in their possession. And to the best of my knowledge, we three were the +only ones on board that did know it. And it has disappeared. Now, sir, you +may or may not be deeper in this affair than you have admitted. If you are, +I'd advise you to own up." + +"Monsieur le capitaine implies my complicity in this dastardly crime!" + +Osborne shook his head doggedly. "I imply nothing. I only say this: if you +know anything you haven't told us, my advice is to make a clean breast of +it." + +"I have nothing to tell you, monsieur, beyond the fact that I find you, +your tone, your manner, and your choice of words, intolerably insolent." + +"Then you know nothing--?" + +"Monsieur!" Lanyard cried sharply. + +"Very good," the captain persisted. "I'll take your word for it--and give +you till we take on our pilot to find the real criminal and make him give +up that paper." + +"And if I fail?" + +"Not a soul on board leaves the _Assyrian_ till the murderer and thief are +found--if they are not one." + +"But that is a general threat; whereas monsieur has honoured me by +making this a personal matter. What punishment have you prepared for +me specifically, if I fail to accomplish this task which baffles +your--shrewdness?" + +"I'll at least inform the port authorities in New York, tell them who you +are, and have you barred out of the country." + +"I want to say, Lanyard," Crane interposed, "this isn't my notion of how to +deal with you, or in any way by my advice." + +"Thank you, monsieur," the adventurer replied icily, without removing his +attention from the captain. "What else, Captain Osborne?" + +"That is all I have to say to you to-night, sir. Good-night." + +"But I have something more to say to you, monsieur le capitaine. First, I +desire to give over to you this article which it will doubtless please you +to consider stolen property." Lanyard placed the automatic pistol on the +desk. "One of Lieutenant Thackeray's," he explained; "at Miss Brooke's +suggestion, I borrowed it as a life-preserver, in event of another brush +with this homicidal maniac." + +"She told us about that," Osborne said heavily, fumbling with the weapon. +"What else, sir?" + +"Only this, monsieur le capitaine: I shall use my best endeavour to uncover +the author of these crimes. If I succeed, be sure I shall denounce him. If +I succeed only in securing this valuable paper you speak of, be equally +sure you will never see it; for it shall leave my hands only to pass into +those which I consider entirely trustworthy." + +"The devil!" Captain Osborne leaped from his chair quaking with fury. "You +dare accuse me of disloyalty--!" + +"Now you mention it...." Lanyard cocked his head to one side with a +maddening effect of deliberation. "No," he concluded--"no; I wouldn't +accuse you of intentional treason, monsieur; for that would involve an +imputation of intelligence...." + +He opened the door and nodded pleasantly to Crane and the third officer. + +"Good-night, gentlemen," he said silkily. "Oh, and you, too, Captain +Osborne--good-night, I'm sure." + + + + +VII + +IN STATEROOM 29 + + +In spite of his own anger, something far from being either assumed or +inconsiderable, Lanyard was fain to pause, a few paces from the deck-house, +and laugh quietly at a vast and incoherent booming which was resounding in +the room he had just quitted--Captain Osborne trying to do justice to +the emotions inspired in his virtuous bosom by the cheek of this damned +gaol-bird. + +But suddenly, reminded of the grim reason for all this wretched brawling, +Lanyard shrugged off his amusement. Beneath his very feet, almost a man +lay dead, another perhaps dying, while the beast who had wrought that +devilishness remained at large. + +He comprehended in a wondering regard that wide, star-blazoned arch of +skies, that broad, dark, restful mystery of waters, that still, sweet world +of peace through which the _Assyrian_ forged, muttering contentedly at her +toil ... while Murder with foul hands and slavering chops skulked somewhere +in the darkened fabric of her, somewhere beyond that black mouth of the +deck-port yawning at Lanyard's elbow. + +From that same portal a man came abruptly but quietly, saw Lanyard standing +there, gave him a staring look and grudging nod, and strode forward to the +captain's quarters: Mr. Warde, the first officer. + +Lanyard recollected himself, and went below. + +Still the sailor guarded the door in that port alleyway; but now it stood +wide, and Cecelia Brooke was on its threshold, conversing guardedly with +the surgeon. Even as Lanyard caught sight of them, the latter bowed and +turned aft, while the girl retreated and refastened the door on its hook. + +Thus reminded of Crane's shrewd questions, Lanyard was speculating rather +foggily concerning the reason therefor as he turned down the passage to +his own quarters. What had the American noticed, or been told, to make him +surmise covert sympathy between the girl and the lieutenant? + +He caught himself yawning. Drowsiness buzzed in his brain. He had an +incoherent feeling that he would now sleep long and heavily. Entering his +stateroom, he put a shoulder against the door, pushing it to as he fumbled +for the switch. The circumstance that the lights were no longer burning as +he had left them failed to impress him as noteworthy in view of his belief +that, by the captain's orders, Mr. Warde had been ransacking his effects in +his absence. + +But when no more than a click responded to a turn of the switch, the room +remaining quite dark, Lanyard uttered an imprecation, abruptly very wide +awake indeed. + +Before he could move he stiffened to positive immobility: the cool, hard +nose of a pistol had come into contact with his skull, just behind the ear. + +Simultaneously a softly-modulated voice advised him in purest German: "Be +quite still, Herr Lanyard, and hold up your hands--so! Also, see that you +utter no sound till I give you leave.... Karl, the handkerchief." + +Lanyard stood motionless, hands well elevated, while a heavy silk blindfold +was whipped over his eyes and knotted tight at the back of his head. + +"Now your paws, Herr Lone Wolf--put them together behind your back, +prudently making no attempt to reach a pocket." + +Obediently Lanyard permitted his wrists to be caught together with a second +silk handkerchief. He could feel a slight sensation of heat upon his hands, +and guessed that this was caused by the light of a flash-lamp held close +to the flesh. None the less he took the chance of clenching his fists and +tensing the muscles of his wrists. + +"Tightly, Karl." + +The bonds were made painfully fast. Still it did not seem to occur to his +captors to oblige their prisoner to open his hands and relax his wrists. +Lanyard perceived a glimmer of hope in this oversight: the enemy was +normally stupid. + +"Now the lights again." + +After a little wait, during which he could hear the bulbs being pressed +back into their sockets, the switch clicked once more. + +"And now, swine-dog!"--the pistol tapped his skull significantly--"if you +value your life, speak, and speak quickly. Where is that document?" + +"Document?" Lanyard repeated in a tone of wonder. + +"Unless you are eager to explore the hereafter, tell us where we may find +it without delay." + +"Upon my word, I don't know what you're talking about." + +"You lie!" the German snapped. "Face about!" + +Somebody grasped his shoulders roughly and swung him round to the light, +the nose of the pistol shifting to press against his abdomen. + +"Search him, Karl." + +Unseen hands investigated his pockets cunningly. As they finished, the man +who answered to the name of Karl became articulate for the first time, +following a grunt of disappointment: + +"Nothing--he has it not upon him." + +"Look more thoroughly. Did you think him idiot enough to carry it where +you'd find it at the first dip? Imbecile!" + +For the purpose of this second search Lanyard's garments were ripped +open, and the enemy made sure that he carried nothing next his skin more +incriminating than a money-belt, which was forcibly removed. + +"His shoes--see to his shoes!" the first speaker insisted irritably. "Sit +down, Lanyard!" + +A petulant push sent the adventurer reeling across the cabin to fall upon +the lounge seat beneath the port. With some effort he assumed a sitting +position, while Karl, kneeling, hastily unlaced and tore off his shoes and +socks. + +"Nothing, captain," was the report. + +"Damnation!... Continue to search his luggage. Leave nothing unexamined. +In particular look into every hole and corner where none but a fool would +attempt to hide anything. This fine gentleman imagines we value his +intelligence too highly to believe he would leave the paper in plain +sight." + +To an accompaniment of sounds indicating that Karl was obeying his +superior, this last resumed in a tone of lofty contempt: + +"How is it you have abandoned the habit of going armed, Herr Lone Wolf? +That is not like you. Is it that you grow unwary through drug-using? But +that matters nothing. We have more important business to speak over, you +and I. You will be very, very docile, and answer promptly, also in a low +voice, if you would avoid getting hurt. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," Lanyard replied, furtively working at the bonds on his wrists. + +"Good. We speak together like good friends, yes?" + +"Naturally," said Lanyard. "It is so conducive to chumminess to be caressed +with an automatic pistol--you've no idea!" + +"Oblige by speaking German. Our ears are sick with all this bastard +English. Also, more quietly speak. Do not put me to the regrettable +necessity of shooting you." + +"How regrettable? You didn't stick at braining those others--" + +"Hardly the same thing. You are not like those English swine. You are +French; and Germany has no hatred for France, but only pity that it so +fatuously opposes manifest destiny. In truth, you are not even French, but +a great thief; and criminals have no patriotism, nor loyalty to any State +but their own, the state of moral turpitude." + +The speaker interrupted himself to relish his wit with a thick chuckle. And +Lanyard's jaws ached with the strain of self-control. He continued to pluck +at the folds of silk while concentrating in effort to memorise the voice, +which he failed utterly to place. Undoubtedly this animal was a shipboard +acquaintance, one who knew him well; but those detestable German gutturals +disguised his accents quite beyond identification. + +"For all that, you are not wise so to try my patience. I permit you five +minutes by my watch in which to make up your mind to surrender that +document." + +"How often must I tell you," Lanyard enquired, "all this talk of documents +is Greek to me?" + +"Then you have five minutes to brush up your classical education, and +translate into terms suited to your intelligence. I will have that document +from you or--in four more minutes--shoot you dead." + +To this Lanyard said nothing. But his patient attentions to the +handkerchief round his wrists were beginning perceptibly to be rewarded. + +"Moreover, Herr Lanyard, you will do yourself a very good turn by +confessing--entirely aside from saving your life." + +"How is that?" + +"Providing you persuade me of your good faith, I am empowered to offer you +employment in our service." + +Lanyard's breath passed hardly through a throat swollen with rage, chagrin, +and hatred, all hopelessly impotent. But he succeeded in preserving an +unruffled countenance, as his captor's next words demonstrated. + +"You are surprised, yes? You are thinking it over? Take your time--you have +three minutes more. Or perhaps you are sulky, resenting that our cleverness +has found you out? Be reasonable, my good man. Think: you cannot be +insensible to the honour my offer does you." + +"What do you want of me?" + +"First, that paper--thereafter to use your surpassing talents to the glory +of God and Fatherland. In addition, you will be greatly rewarded." + +"Now you do begin to interest me," Lanyard said coolly.... Surely he could +contrive some way to slay this beast with his naked hands! He must play for +time.... "How rewarded?" + +"As I say, with a place in the Prussian Secret Service, its protection, +freedom to ply your trade unhindered in America, even countenanced, till +that country becomes a German province under German laws." + +"But do I hear you offer this to a Frenchman?" + +"Undeceive yourself. Men of all nations to-day, recognising that the star +of Germany is in the ascendant, that soon all nations will be German, +are hastening to make their peace beforehand by rendering Germany good +service." + +"Something in that, perhaps," Lanyard admitted thoughtfully. + +"Think well, my friend.... Yes, Karl?" + +The voice of the other spy responded sullenly: "Nothing--absolutely +nothing." + +"Two minutes, Herr Lanyard." + +Of a sudden Lanyard's face was violently distorted in a grimace of terror. +He lurched his shoulders forward, openly struggling with his bonds. + +"But--good God!" he protested in a voice of terror, "you can't possibly be +so unreasonable! I tell you, I haven't got your damned paper!" + +A loop of the handkerchief slipped over one hand. + +"Be still! Cease your struggles. And not so loud, my friend!" The +peremptory voice dropped into mockery as Lanyard, pale and exhausted, sat +back trembling--and a second loop of silk dropped over the other hand. "So +you begin to appreciate that we mean business, yes? One minute and thirty +seconds!" + +"Have mercy!" the adventurer whined desperately--and licked his lips as if +he found them dry with fear. Now both hands were all but wholly free. True: +he remained blindfolded and covered by a deadly weapon. "Give me a chance. +I'll do anything you wish! But I can't give you what I haven't got." + +"Be silent! Here, Karl." + +There was a sound of unintelligible murmuring as the two spies conferred +together. Lanyard writhed in apparent extremity of terror. His hands were +free. He sought hopelessly for inspiration. What to do without arms? + +"Be grateful to Karl. He urges that perhaps you know nothing of the +document." + +"Don't you think I'd tell if I did know?" + +"Then you have one minute--no, forty seconds--in which to pledge yourself +to the Prussian Secret Service." + +"You want me to swear--?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then hear me," said Lanyard earnestly: "_You damned canaille_!" And in +one movement he tore the bandage from his eyes and launched himself head +foremost at the man who stood over him. + +He caught part of an oath drowned out by the splitting report of a pistol +that went off within an inch of his ear. Then his head took the man full +in the belly, and both went sprawling to the deck, Lanyard fighting like a +maniac. + +Sheer luck had guided clawing fingers to the right wrist of his antagonist, +round which they shut like jaws of a trap. At the same time he wrenched the +other's arm high above his head. + +Momentarily expecting the shock of a bullet from the pistol of the second +spy, he found time to wonder that it was so long deferred, and even in +the fury of his struggles, out of the corner of one eye caught a fugitive +glimpse of a tallish man, masked, standing back to the forward partition in +a pose of singular indecision, pistol poised in his grasp. + +Then the efforts of his immediate adversary threw him into a position in +which he was unable to see the other. + +Of a sudden the stateroom was filled with the thunder of an automatic, its +seven cartridges discharged in one brisk, rippling crash. + +It was as if a white-hot iron had been laid across Lanyard's shoulder. +Beneath him the man started convulsively, with such force as almost to +throw him off bodily, then relaxed altogether and lay limp and still, +pinning one of Lanyard's arms under him. + +Its visor displaced, the face of Baron von Harden was revealed, features +distorted, eyes glaring, a frozen mask of hate and terror. + +His arm free, the adventurer rolled away from the corpse in time to see the +open window-port blocked by the body of the other spy. + +Gathering himself together, he snatched up the pistol that dropped from the +inert grasp of the dead man, and levelled it at the port. + +But now that space was empty. + +He rose and paused for an instant, his glance instinctively seeking the +ledge above the hand-basin. + +The hypodermic outfit was there, but minus the phial. + +In the alleyway rose a confusion of running feet and shouting tongues. +A heavy banging rang on the door to Stateroom 29. Crane's nasal accents +called upon Lanyard to open. + + + + +VIII + +OFF NANTUCKET + + +Upon the authors of that commotion Lanyard wasted no consideration +whatever. Let them knock and clamour; he had more urgent work in hand, and +knew too well the penalty were he stupid enough to unbolt to them. Their +bodies would dam the doorway hopelessly; insistent hands would hinder him; +innumerable importunate enquiries would be dinned at him, all immaterial +in contrast with this emergency, a catechism one would need an hour to +satisfy. And all attempts would be futile to make them understand that, +while they plagued him with futile questions, a murderer and spy and thief +was making good his escape, being afforded ample opportunity to slough all +traces of his recent work and resume unchallenged his place among them. + +No; if by any freak of good fortune, any exertion of wit or daring, that +one were to be apprehended, it must be within the next few minutes, it +could only be through immediate pursuit. + +Nor did the adventurer waste time debating the better course. With him, +whose ways of life were ceaselessly beset by instant and mortal perils, +each with its especial and imperative demand upon his readiness and +ingenuity, action must ever press so hard upon the heels of thought as to +make the two seem one. + +For that matter, the whole transaction had been characterised by almost +unbelievable rapidity. And that square opening of the window-port was +hardly vacant when Lanyard sprang to his feet; the fugitive had barely time +to find his own upon the outer deck before Lanyard leaped after him; the +first thumps upon the panels of his door were still echoing when he thrust +head and shoulders out of the port and began to pump the automatic at a +shadow fleeing aft upon that narrow breadth of planking between rail and +wall. + +Then, at the third shot, the automatic jammed upon a discharged shell. + +Exasperated, the adventurer cast the weapon from him, shrugged hastily out +of his unfastened coat and waistcoat, hitched tight his belt, and clambered +through the port. + +Dropping to the deck, he turned in time to see the fugitive dart round the +shoulder of the superstructure. + +As Lanyard gained the after rail of the promenade deck a man standing on +the boat-deck at the head of the companion-ladder greeted him with pistol +fire. He dodged back, untouched, and instantaneously devised a stratagem to +cope with this untoward development. + +Overhead, at the side, a lifeboat hung on its davits, ready for emergency +launching, the gap in the rail which it filled when normally swung inboard +spanned only by a length of line. And the darkness in the shadow of the +boat was dense, an excellent screen. + +Climbing upon the rail, Lanyard grasped the edge of the deck overhead and +drew himself up undetected by his quarry, whom he espied still holding +the head of the companion ladder, hidden from the bridge by the after +deck-house, standing ready to shoot Lanyard should he attempt to renew the +pursuit by that approach. + +At the same time, "Karl" seemed mysteriously occupied with some object or +objects in whose manipulation he was hampered to a degree by the necessity +under which he laboured of holding his pistol ready and dividing his +attention. + +A man of good stature, broad at the shoulders, slender at the hips, he +poised himself with athletic grace--the lower part of his face masked by +what Lanyard took to be a dark silk handkerchief. + +Lanyard heard him swearing in German. + +Then a brisk little spray of sparks jetted from the flint and steel of a +patent cigar-lighter in the hands of the spy. And as Lanyard rose from his +knees after ducking beneath the line, a stream of fatter sparks spat from +the end of a fuse. + +The man leaned over the rail and cast a small black object to which the +sputtering fuse was attached, down to the main deck. + +As it struck midway between superstructure and stern it burst into +brilliant flame, releasing upon the night an electric-blue glare that must +have been visible from any point within the compass of the horizon. + +A yell of profane remonstrance saluted the light, and throughout the brief +passage that followed Lanyard was conscious that pistols and rifles on the +after deck below were making him and his antagonist their targets. + +Before the German could face about, Lanyard, moving almost noiselessly in +his bare feet, had covered more than half the intervening space. In another +breath he might have had the fellow at a disadvantage. But the distance +was too great. Twice the automatic blazed in his face as he closed in, the +bullets clearing narrowly--or else he fancied that their deadly cold breath +fanned his cheek. + +Then the spy's weapon in turn went out of action. Half blinded, Lanyard +clipped the man round the body and hugged him tight, exerting all his skill +and strength to effect a throw. + +That effort failed; his onslaught was met with address and ability that +all but matched his own. The animal he embraced had muscles like tempered +springs and the cunning and fury of a wild beast in a trap. For a moment +Lanyard was able to accomplish no more than to smother resistance in a +rib-crushing embrace; no sooner did he relax it than all attempts to shift +his hold were anticipated and met half way, forcing him back upon the +defensive. + +Yet he was given little chance to prove himself the master. The first phase +of the struggle was still in contest when the rear door of the smoking room +opened and a man stepped out, paused, summed up the situation in a glance, +seized Lanyard from behind. + +The adventurer felt his arms grasped by hands whose strength seemed little +short of superhuman, and wrenched back so violently that his very bones +cracked. Fairly lifted from his feet, he was held as helpless as an infant +kicking in the arms of its nurse. + +Released, the other spy stepped back and swung his left fist viciously to +Lanyard's jaw. Something in the brain of the adventurer seemed to let +go; his head dropped weakly to one side. The man who had struck him said +quietly, "Loose the fool, Ed," and followed as Lanyard reeled away, +striking him repeatedly. + +For a giddy moment Lanyard was darkly conscious--as one dreams an evil +dream--of blows raining mercilessly about his head and body, blows that +drove him back athwartships toward a fate dark and terrible, a great void +of blackness. He felt unutterably weary, and was weakened by a sensation of +nausea. Beneath him his knees buckled. There fell one final blow, ruthless +as the wrath of God. + +He was falling backward into nothingness, into an everlasting gulf of night +that yawned for him.... + +As he shot under the guard rope and into space between the edge of the deck +and the keel of the lifeboat, the spy rounded smartly on a heel and darted +to the smoking-room door. His confederate was in the act of stepping across +the raised threshold. He followed, closed the door. + +The first officer, charging aft from the bridge, rounded the deck-house and +pulled up with a grunt of surprise to find the deck completely deserted.... + +The shock of icy immersion reanimated Lanyard. + +He felt himself plunging headlong down, down, and down to inky depths +unguessable. The sheer habit of an accustomed swimmer alone bade him hold +his breath. + +Then came a pause: he was no more descending; for a time of indeterminate +duration, an age of anguish, he seemed to float without motion, suspended +in frigid purgatory. Against his ribs something hammered like a racing +engine. In his ears sounded a vast roaring, the deafening voices of a +thousand waterfalls. His head felt swollen and enormous, on the point of +bursting wide. + +Without warning expelled from those depths, he shot full half-length out of +water, and fell back into the milky welter of the _Assyrian's_ wake. + +Instinctively he kept afloat with feeble strokes. + +The cold was bitter, as sharp as the teeth of death; but his head was now +clear, he was able to appreciate what had befallen him. + +Already the _Assyrian_, forging onward unchecked, had left him well astern, +her progress distinctly disclosed by that infernal bluish glare spouting +from her after deck. + +She seemed absurdly small. Incredulity infected Lanyard's mind. Nothing so +tiny, so insignificant, so make-believe as that silhouette of a ship could +conceivably be that great liner, the _Assyrian_.... + +Temporarily a burning pain in his left shoulder drove all other +considerations out of mind. The salt water was beginning to smart in the +raw, superficial wound made by that assassin's bullet ... back there in the +stateroom ... long ago.... + +Then the cold began to bite into his marrow, and he struggled manfully +to swim, taking long, slow strokes, at first comparatively powerful, by +insensible degrees losing force. + +Just why he took this trouble he did not know: for some dim reason it +seemed desirable to live as long as possible. Withal he was aware he could +not live. Whether careless or utterly ignorant of his fate, the _Assyrian_ +was trudging on and on, leaving him ever farther astern, lost beyond rescue +in that weird, bleak waste. Even were an alarm to be given, were she to +stop now and put out a boat, it would find him, if it found him at all, too +late. + +The cold was killing. + +He felt very sleepy. Drowsily he apprehended the beginning of the end. +His senses, growing numb with cold, presently must cease to function +altogether. Then he would forget, and nothing would matter any more. + +Yet the will to live persisted amazingly. Had Lanyard wished it he could +not have ceased to swim, at least to keep afloat. Vaguely he wondered how +people ever managed to commit suicide by drowning; it seemed to pass human +power to resist that buoyancy which sustained one, to let go, let one's +self go down. Impossible to conceive how that was ever done.... + +Why should he care to go on living? + +No reading that riddle!... + +On obscure impulse he gave up swimming, turned upon his back, floated face +to the sky, derelict, resigning himself to the cradling arms of the sea. +The gradual, slow rocking of the swells soothed his passion like a kindly +opiate. The cold no more irked him, but seemed somehow strangely anodynous. +Imperturbably he envisaged death, without fear, without welcome. What must +be, must.... + +For all that, life clutched at him with jealous hands. More than ever +sleepy, before he slept that last, long sleep he must somehow solve this +enigma, learn the reason why life continued so to allure his failing +senses. + +Athwart the drab texture of consciousness wild fancies played like heat +lightning in a still midsummer night. + +Death's countenance was kind. + +That wide field of stars, drooping low and lifting away with rhythmic +motion, would sometime dip swiftly down to the very sea itself and, +swinging back, take with it his soul to some remote bourne.... + +The deeps were yielding up their mysteries. Past him a huge pale monster +swept at furious pace, hissing grimly as it passed, like some spectral +Nemesis pursuing the _Assyrian_. + +Indifferently he speculated concerning the reality of this phenomenon. + +The heave of a swell enabled him to glance incuriously after the steamship. +She seemed smaller, less genuine than ever, a shadow shape that boasted +visibility solely through that unearthly light on her after deck. Even +that now had waned to a mere glimmer, the flicker of a candle lost in the +immensities of that night-bound world of empty sky and empty ocean. Even as +he that had been named Michael Lanyard was a lost light, a tiny flame that +guttered toward its swift extinction.... + +Why live, when one might die and, dying, find endless rest? + +Like a blazing thunderbolt one word rent the slumbrous web of sentience: +_Ekstrom_! + +Galvanised by the flood of hatred unpent by the syllables of that name, +Lanyard began again to swim, flailing the water with frantic arms as if to +win somewhither by the very violence of his efforts. + +This the one cogent reason why he must not, could not, die.... + +Unjust to require him to give up life while that one lived. Unfair.... It +must not be!... + +Across the sea rolled a dull, brutish detonation. The swimmer, swung high +on the bosom of a great swell, saw a vast sheet of fire raving heavenward +from the _Assyrian_. + +It vanished instantly. + +When his dazzled vision cleared, he could see no more of the ship. He +imagined a faint, wild rumour of panic voices, conjured up scenes of horror +indescribable as that great fabric sank almost instantaneously, as if some +gigantic hand plucked her under. + +What had happened? Had the accomplices of the dead Baron von Harden set off +an infernal machine aboard the vessel? In the name of reason, why? They had +got what they sought, that accursed document, whatever it was, that page +torn from the Book of Doom. Then why...? + +And to what end had they exploded that light bomb on the after deck? + +To make the _Assyrian_ a glaring target in the night--what else? A target +for what?... + +Of a sudden all rational mental processes were erased from Lanyard's +consciousness. A wave of pure fear flooded him, body, mind, and soul. He +began to struggle like a maniac, fighting the waters that hindered his +flight from some hideous thing that was lifting up from the ocean's ooze to +drag him down. + +He heard a voice screaming thinly, and knew it was his own. + +The impossible was happening to him, out there, alone and helpless on the +face of the waters. A shape of horror was rising out of the deep to engorge +him. He could feel distinctly the slow, irresistible heave of its bulk +beneath him. His feet touched and slipped upon its horrible sleek flanks. + +His most desperate efforts were all unavailing. He could not escape. The +thing came up too rapidly. Following that first mad thrill of contact with +it underfoot, he was lifted swiftly and irresistibly into the air. Almost +instantly he was floundering in knee-deep waters that parted, cascading +away on either hand. Then, elevated well above the sea, he slid and fell +prone upon a slimy wet surface. + +His clawing hands clutched something solid and substantial, an upright bar +of metal. + +Incredulously Lanyard pawed the body of the monster beneath him. His hands +passed over a riveted joint of metal plates. Looking up, he made out the +truncated cone of a conning tower with its antennae-like periscope tubes +stencilled black upon the soft purple of the star-strewn sky. + +Slowly the truth came home: a submarine had risen beneath him. He lay upon +its after deck, grasping a stanchion that supported the small raised bridge +round the conning tower. + +He sobbed a little in sheer hysteric gratitude, that this miracle had been +vouchsafed unto him, that he had thus been spared to live on against his +hour with Ekstrom. + +But when he sought to drag himself up to the bridge, he could not, he +was too weak and faint. Ceasing to struggle, he rested in half stupour, +panting. + +With a harsh clang a hatch was thrown back. Rousing, Lanyard saw several +figures emerge from the conning tower. Men uncouthly clothed in shapeless, +shiny leather garments, straddled and stretched above him, filling their +lungs with the sweet air. He tried to call to them, but evoked a mere +rattle from his throat. + +Two came to the edge of the bridge and stood immediately over him, fixing +binoculars to their eyes, their voices quite audible. + +A pang of despair shot through Lanyard when he heard them conferring +together in the German tongue. + +Death, then, was but a little delayed. + +Thereafter he lay in dumb apathy, save that he shivered and his teeth +chattered uncontrollably. + +Through the torpor that rested like a black cloud upon his senses he caught +broken phrases, snatches of sentences: + +"... _sinking fast ... struck square amidships ... broke her back_...." + +"... _trouble with her boats. There goes one over_!..." + +"... _fools jumping overboard like cattle_...." + +"_What's that rocket? Do the swine want us to shell their boats_?" + +"_Why not? They're asking for it_!" + +One of the officers lowered his glasses and barked a series of sharp +commands. The crew on deck leaped to attention. One leaned over the +conning-tower hatch and shouted to his mates below. A hatch forward of +the tower opened, and a quick-firing gun on a disappearing carriage swung +smoothly and silently up from its lair. + +The other officer, looking down, started violently. + +"_Verdammt_! What's this?" + +The first rejoined him. "Impossible!" + +"Impossible or not--a man or a cadaver!" + +"Have him up and see...." + +By order, two of the crew dragged Lanyard up to the bridge, supporting him +by main strength while the officers examined him. + +"At the last gasp, but alive," one announced. + +"How the devil did he get out here?" + +"From the _Assyrian_--" + +"Impossible for any man to swim this far since our torpedo struck--" + +"Then he must have gone overboard before it struck--or was thrown--" + +A cry of alarm from the group about the gun, awaiting final orders to open +fire upon the _Assyrian's_ boats, interrupted the conference. The officers +swung away in haste. + +"Hell's fury! what's that searchlight?" + +"A Yankee destroyer--in all probability the one we dodged yesterday +afternoon." + +"She'll find us yet if we don't submerge. Forward, there--house that gun! +And get below--quickly!" + +During a moment of apparent confusion, one of the men sustaining Lanyard +caught the attention of an officer. + +"What shall we do with this fellow, sir?" he enquired. + +"Leave him here to sink or swim as we go down," snapped the officer--"and +be damned to him!" + +With a supreme effort the adventurer sank his fingers deep into the arms of +the two men. + +"Wait!" he gasped faintly in German. "On the Emperor's service--" + +"What's that?" The officer turned back sharply. + +"Imperial Secret Service," Lanyard faltered--"Personal +Division--Wilhelmstrasse Number 27--" + +A brilliant glare settled suddenly upon the deck of the submarine, and was +welcomed by a panicky gust of oaths. One officer had already popped through +the conning-tower hatch, followed by several of the crew. There remained +only those supporting Lanyard, and the second officer. + +"Take him below!" the latter ordered. "He may be telling the truth. If +not...." + +In the distance a gun boomed. A shell shrieked over the submarine and +dropped into the sea not a hundred yards to starboard. The men rushed +Lanyard toward the conning tower. He tried feebly to help them. In that +effort consciousness was altogether blotted out.... + + + + +IX + +SUB SEA + + +When he opened his eyes again he was resting, after a fashion, naked +between harsh, damp blankets in a narrow, low-ceiled bunk inches too short +for one of his stature. + +After an experimental squirm or two he lay very still; his back and all his +limbs were stiff and sore, his bullet-seared shoulder burned intolerably +beneath a rudely applied first-aid dressing, and he was breathing heavily +long, labouring inhalations of an atmosphere sickeningly dank, close, and +foul with unspeakable stenches, for which the fumes of sulphuric acid with +a rank reek of petroleum and lubricating oils formed but a modest and +retiring background. + +Also his head felt very thick and dull. He found it extremely difficult to +think, and for some time, indeed, was quite unable to think to any purpose. + +His very eyes ached in their sockets. + +In the ceiling glowed an electric bulb, dimly illuminating a cubicle barely +big enough to accommodate the bunk, a dresser, and a small desk with a +folding seat. The inner wall was a slightly concave surface of steel plates +whose seams oozed moisture. In the opposite wall was a sliding door, open, +beyond which ran a narrow alleyway floored with metal grating. Everything +in sight was enamelled with white paint and clammy with the sweat of that +foetid air. + +Over all an unnatural hush brooded, now and again accentuated by a rumble +of distant voices and gusts of vacant laughter, once or twice by a curious +popping. For a long time he heard nothing else whatever. The effect was +singularly disquieting and did its bit to quicken torpid senses to grasp +his plight. + +Sluggishly enough Lanyard pieced together fragments of lurid memories, +reconstructing the sequence of last night's events scene by scene to the +moment of his rescue by the U-boat. + +So, it appeared, he was aboard a German submersible, virtually a prisoner, +though posing as an agent of the Personal Intelligence Department of the +German Secret Service. + +To that inspiration of failing consciousness he owed his life, or such +of its span as now remained to him, a term whose duration could only be +defined by his ability to carry off the imposture pending problematic +opportunity to escape. And, assuming that this last were ever offered him, +there was no present possibility of guessing how long it might not be +deferred. + +Its butcher's mission successfully accomplished, the U-boat was not +improbably even now en route for Heligoland, beginning a transatlantic +cruise of weeks that might never end save in a nameless grave at the bottom +of the Four Seas. + +Only the matter of impersonation failed to embarrass in prospect. A natural +linguist, Lanyard's three years within the German lines had put a rare +finish upon his mastery of German. More than this, he was well versed in +the workings of the Prussian spy system. As Dr. Paul Rodiek, Wilhelmstrasse +Agent Number 27, he was safe as long as he found no acquaintance of that +gentleman in the complement of the submarine; for, largely upon information +furnished by Lanyard himself, Dr. Rodiek had been secretly apprehended +and executed in the Tower the day before Lanyard left London to join the +_Assyrian_. + +But the question of the U-boat's present whereabouts and its movements +in the immediate future disturbed the adventurer profoundly. He was +elaborately incurious about Heligoland; and several weeks' association +with the Boche in the close quarters of a submarine was a prospect that +revolted. Wellnigh any fate were preferable.... + +Uncertain footsteps sounded in the alleyway, paused at the entrance to his +cubicle. He turned his head wearily on the pillow. In the doorway stood +a man whose slenderly elegant carriage of a Prussian officer was not +disguised even by his shapeless wreck of a naval lieutenant's uniform, a +man with a countenance of singularly unpleasant cast, leaving out of all +consideration the grease and grime that discoloured it. His narrow forehead +slanted back just a trace too sharply, his nose was thin and overlong, his +mouth thin and cruel beneath its ambitious mustache ŕ la Kaiser; his small +black eyes, set much too close together, blazed with unholy exhilaration. + +As soon as he spoke Lanyard understood that he was drunk, drunk with more +than the champagne of which he presently boasted. + +"Awake, eh?" he greeted Lanyard with a mirthless snarl. "You've slept like +the dead man I took you for at first, my friend--a solid fourteen hours, my +word for it! Feeling better now?" + +Lanyard's essays to reply began and ended in a croak for water. The +Prussian nodded, disappeared, returned with an aluminium cup of stale cold +water mixed with a little brandy. + +"Champagne if you like," he offered, as Lanyard, painfully propping himself +up on an elbow, gulped like an animal from the vessel held to his lips. "We +are holding a little celebration, you know." + +Lanyard dropped back to the pillow, the question in his eyes. + +"Celebrating our success," the Prussian responded. "We got her, and that +means much honour and a long furlough to boot, when we get home, just as +failure would have spelled--I don't like to think what. I shouldn't care to +fill the shoes of those poor devils who let the _Assyrian_ escape them off +Ireland, I can tell you." + +Something very much like true fear flickered in his small eyes as he +pondered the punishment meted out to those who failed. + +So the U-boat was homeward bound! Strange one noticed no motion of her +progress, heard no noise of machinery. + +"Where are we?" Lanyard whispered. + +"Peacefully asleep on the bottom, about five miles south of Martha's +Vineyard, waiting till it is dark enough to slip in to our base." + +"Base?" + +The Prussian hiccoughed and giggled. "On the south shore of the Vineyard," +he confided with alcoholic glee: "snuggest little haven heart could wish, +well to the north of all deep-sea traffic; and the coastwise trade runs +still farther north, through Vineyard Sound, other side the island. Not +a soul ever comes that way, not a soul suspects. How should they? +The admirable charts of the Yankee Coast and Geodetic Survey"--he +sneered--"show no break in the south beach of the island, between the ocean +and the ponds. But there is one. The sea made the breach during a gale, our +people helped with a little Trotyl, tides and storms did the rest. Now we +can enter a secluded, landlocked harbour with just enough water at low +tide, and lie hidden there till the word comes to move again--three miles +of dense scrub forest, all privately owned as a game preserve, fenced and +patrolled, between us and the nearest cultivated land--and friends in +plenty on the island to keep all our needs supplied--petroleum, fresh +vegetables, champagne, all that. Just the same we take no chances--never +make our landfall by day, never enter or leave harbour except at night." + +He paused, contemplating Lanyard owlishly. "Ought not to tell you all +this, I presume," he continued, more soberly, though the wild light still +flickered ominously in his eyes. "But it is safe enough; you will see for +yourself in a few hours; and then ... either you are all right, or you will +never live to tell of it. We radio'd for information about Wilhelmstrasse +Number 27 just before dawn, after we had dodged that damned Yankee +destroyer. Ought to get an answer to-night, when we come up." + +Heavier footsteps rang in the alleyway. The Prussian made a grimace of +dislike. + +"Here comes the commander," he cautioned uneasily. + +A great blond Viking of a German in the uniform of a captain shouldered +heavily through the doorway and, acknowledging the salute of the rat-faced +subaltern with a bare nod, stood looking down at Lanyard in taciturn +silence, hostility in his blood-shot blue eyes. + +"How long since he wakened?" he asked thickly, with the accent of a +Bavarian. + +"A minute or two ago." + +"Why did you not inform me?" + +The tone was offensively domineering, thanks like enough to drink, nerves, +and hatred of his job and all things and persons pertaining to it. + +The subaltern coloured. "He asked for water--I got it for him." + +The commander stared churlishly, then addressed Lanyard: "How are you now?" + +"Very faint," Lanyard said truthfully. But he would have lied had it been +otherwise with him. It was his book to make time in which to collect his +thoughts, concoct a bullet-proof story, plan against an adverse answer to +that wireless enquiry. + +"Can you eat, drink a little champagne?" + +Lanyard nodded slightly, adding a feeble "Please." + +The Bavarian glanced significantly at his subaltern, who hastened to leave +them. + +"Who are you? What is your name?" + +"Dr. Paul Rodiek." + +"Your employment?" + +"Personal Intelligence Bureau--confidential agent." + +"What were you doing on board the _Assyrian_?" + +Lanyard mustered enough strength to look the man squarely in the eye. + +"Pardon," he said coldly. "You must know your question is indiscreet." + +"I must know more about you." + +"It should be enough," Lanyard ventured boldly, "to know that I set off +that flare as arranged, at risk of my life." + +"How came you overboard?" + +"In the scuffle caused by my lighting the flare." + +"So you tell me. But we found you half clothed, lacking any sort of +identification. Am I to accept your unsupported word?" + +"My papers are naturally at the bottom of the sea, in the garments I +discarded lest their weight drag me down. If you have doubts," Lanyard +continued firmly, "it is your privilege to settle them by communicating via +radio with Seventy-ninth Street." + +He shut his eyes wearily and turned his head aside on the pillow, confident +that this reference to the headquarters and secret wireless station of the +Prussian spy system in New York would win him peace for a time at least. + +After a moment the commander uttered a non-committal grunt. "We shall see," +he prophesied darkly, and went away. + +Later, one of the crew brought Lanyard a dish of greasy stew and potatoes, +lukewarm, with bread and a half-bottle of excellent champagne. + +He ate all he could stomach of the first, devoured the second ravenously, +and drained the bottle of its ultimate life-giving drop. + +Then, immeasurably refreshed and fortified in body and spirit, he turned +face to the wall, composed himself as if to sleep, shut his eyes, adjusted +the tempo of his respiration, and lay quite still, wide awake and thinking +hard. + +After a while somebody tramped into the cubicle, bent over Lanyard +inquisitively and, satisfied that he slept, retired, taking away the empty +bottle and dishes. + +Otherwise his meditations were disturbed only by those echoes of revelry +in honour of the late manifestation of the Hun's divine right to do wanton +murder on the high seas. + +The rumour waxed and waned, died into dull mutterings, broke out afresh in +spurts of merriment that held an hysterical note. Once a quarrel sprang up +and was silenced by the commander's deep, unpleasant tones. Corks popped +spasmodically. Again there were sounds much like a man's sobbing; but these +were promptly blared down by a phonograph with a typically American accent. +When that palled, a sentimental disciple of frightfulness sang Tannenbaum +in a melting tenor. + +Everything tended to effect an impression that all, commander and meanest +mechanic alike, were making forlorn efforts to forget. + +Devoutly Lanyard prayed they might be successful, at least until the +submarine made her secret base. If too much alcohol was bad, too much +brooding was infinitely worse for the German temperament. He remembered +one U-boat commander who, returning to the home port after a conspicuously +successful cruise, had been taken ashore in a strait-jacket. + +Lanyard himself did not care to dwell upon those scenes which must have +been enacted on board the _Assyrian_ after the torpedo struck.... + +Deliberately ignoring all else, he set himself the task of reviewing those +events which had led up to his going overboard. + +One by one he considered the incidents of that night, painstakingly +dissected them, examined their every phase in minute analysis, weighing for +ulterior meaning every word uttered in his presence, harking even farther +back to reconstruct his acquaintance with each actor from the very moment +of its inception, seeking that hint which he was convinced must be +somewhere hidden in the history of the affair, waiting only recognition to +lead straightway out of this gloomy maze of mystery into a sunlit open of +understanding. + +In vain: there was an ambiguity in that business to baffle the keenest and +most pertinacious investigation. + +The conduct of Cecelia Brooke alone bristled with inconsistencies +inexplicable, the conduct of the German spies no less. + +To get better perspective upon the problem, he reduced the premises to +their barest summary: + +A valuable dossier brought on board the _Assyrian_ (no matter by whom) had +come into the possession of British agents, with the knowledge of Captain +Osborne. Thackeray had secreted it in that fraudulent bandage. German +agents, apparently under the leadership of Baron von Harden, had waylaid +him, knocked him senseless, unwrapped the bandage, but somehow (probably +in the first instance through the interference of the Brooke girl) had +overlooked the document. Subsequently the Brooke girl had found and +entrusted it to Lanyard. (No matter why!) He on his part had exerted his +utmost inventiveness in hiding it away. Nevertheless it had been discovered +and abstracted within an hour. + +By whom? + +Not improbably by the Brooke girl herself. Repenting her impulsiveness, +after leaving Lanyard with the captain, from whom she had doubtless learned +the truth about "Monsieur Duchemin," she might well have gone directly to +Lanyard's stateroom and hit upon the morphia phial as the likeliest hiding +place without delay, thanks to prior acquaintance with the proportions of +the paper cylinder. + +But why should she have assumed that Lanyard had not disposed of the trust +about his person? + +Not impossibly the thing had been found by the first officer of the +_Assyrian_, searching by order of the captain--as Lanyard assumed he had. + +But, if Mr. Warde had found it, he had not reported his find when +telephoning to Captain Osborne; or else the latter had gone to great +lengths to mystify Lanyard. + +There remained the chance that the paper had been stolen by one of the two +German agents--by either without the knowledge of the other. + +If Baron von Harden had found it--necessarily before Lanyard returned +to the room--he had subsequently been at elaborate pains to conceal his +success from both his victim and his confederate. Why? Did he distrust the +latter? Again, why? + +If "Karl" had been the thief, it must have been after Lanyard's return, +and while the Baron was preoccupied with the task of keeping the prisoner +quiet, to let the search proceed. + +In that event "Karl" had lied deliberately to his superior. Why? Because +the document was salable, and "Karl" intended to realize its value for his +personal benefit? + +Not an unlikely explanation. Nor could this be called the first instance in +which the Prussian spy system, admirably organized though it was, had been +betrayed by one of its own agents. + +This hypothesis, too, accounted for that most perplexing circumstance of +all, the murder of Baron von Harden. For Lanyard was fully persuaded that +had been nothing less than premeditated murder, in no way an accident of +faulty aim. Even the most nervous and unstrung man could hardly have missed +six shots out of seven, point blank. A nervous man, indeed, could hardly +have gained his own consent to take so hideous a chance of injuring or +killing a collaborator. + +It appeared, then, that one of four things had happened to the cylinder of +paper: + +Miss Brooke had taken it back into her own care. In which case Lanyard was +no more concerned. + +Captain Osborne had secured it through Mr. Warde. This, however, Lanyard +did not seriously credit. + +It had gone to the bottom when the _Assyrian_ sank with the body--among +others--of Baron von Harden. + +Or "Karl" had stolen it. + +Privately, indeed, Lanyard rather inclined to hope that the last might +prove to be the true solution. He desired earnestly to meet "Karl" once +more, on equal terms. And the more counts in the score, the greater his +satisfaction in exacting a reckoning in full. + +But he anticipated. That chapter might only too possibly have been closed +forever by the hand of Death. As yet he knew nothing concerning the +mortality of the _Assyrian_ débâcle. He had not enquired of the officers of +the U-boat because they knew little if anything more than he. Their glasses +had discovered to them trouble with the lifeboats; they had spoken of one +boat capsizing, of "people going overboard like cattle." There must have +been many drownings, even with a United States destroyer near by and +speeding to the rescue. + +A single question troubled Lanyard greatly. Officers and crew of the U-boat +had betrayed profoundest consternation upon the advent of that destroyer, +presumably a warship of a neutral nation. And that same ship had without +hesitation fired upon the submarine. + +Was it possible, then, that the United States had already declared war on +Germany? + +It seemed extremely probable; in such event these Germans would have been +notified instantly by wireless from the New York bureau of their country's +Secret Service; whereas, Captain Osborne, receiving the same advice by +wireless, might reasonably have kept it quiet lest the news stir to more +formidable activity those agents of the Wilhelmstrasse whose presence among +the passengers he must at least have strongly suspected. + +Presently the closeness of the atmosphere began to work upon Lanyard's +perceptions. In spite of his long rest, a new drowsiness drugged his +senses. He yielded without struggle, knowing he would soon need every ounce +of strength and vitality that sleep could give him.... + +The din of an inferno startled him awake. Those narrow metal walls were +echoing a clangour of machinery maniacal in character and overpowering in +volume. Clankings, tappings, hissings, coughings, clatterings, stridulation +of a wireless spark, drone of dynamos, shrewdish scolding of Diesel motors +developing two thousand horsepower, individual efforts of some two thousand +valves, combined--or, declined to combine--in a cacophony like nothing +under the sun but the chant of a submersible under way on the surface. + +Lanyard, gratefully aware of a current of fresh air sweeping through the +hold, rolled out of his bunk to find that, while he slept, clothing had +been provided for him, rough but adequate; heavy woollen underwear and +socks, a sweater, a dungaree coat, trousers of the same stuff, all vilely +damp, and a friendless pair of oil-sodden shoes: the sweepings of a dozen +lockers, but as welcome as disreputable. + +Dressed, he turned aft through the alleyway, entering immediately the +central operating room and storm center of that typhoon of noise, a +wilderness of polished machinery in active being. + +Of the score or more leather-clad machinists silent at their posts, none +paid him more heed than a passing, incurious glance as he crossed to a +narrow steel companion ladder and ascended to the conning tower. This he +found deserted; but its deck-hatch was open. He climbed out to the bridge. + +The night was calm and heavily overcast, with no sea more than long, slow +swells. Through its windless quiet the U-boat racketed with the raving +abandon of the Spirit of Discord on a spree in a boiler factory. To the +riot of its internal strife was added the remonstrance of waters sliced by +the stem and flung back by the sides, a prolonged and stertorous hiss like +the rending of an endless sheet of canvas. + +To eyes new from the electric illumination of the hold, the blackness was +positive, with the palpable quality of an element, relieved alone by the +dull glow of the binnacle housing the gyroscope telltale, from which the +faintest of golden reflections struck back to pick out a pair of seemingly +severed fists gripping the handles of the bridge steering wheel with a +singular effect of desperation. + +For some moments Lanyard could see nothing more. + +The mirthless chuckle of the lieutenant sounded at his elbow. + +"So the good Herr Doctor thought he had better come up for air, eh? My +friend, the very dead might envy you the sincerity of your slumbers. We +have been half an hour on the surface, with all this uproar--and you are +only just wakened!" + +"Half an hour?" Lanyard repeated thoughtfully. "Then we should be close +in...." + +"Give us ten minutes more ... if we don't go aground in this accursed +blackness!" + +A broad-shouldered body passed between Lanyard and the binnacle, +momentarily eclipsing its light. Down below in the operating room a bell +shrilled, and of a sudden the Diesels were silenced. + +The dead quiet that followed the sharp extinction of that hubbub was as +startling as the detonation of high explosive had been. + +Through this sudden stillness the submarine slipped stealthily, the hissing +beneath her bows dying down to gentle sibilance. + +From forward the calls of an invisible leadsman were audible. In response +the commander uttered throaty orders to the helmsman at his elbow, and +those unattached hands shifted the wheel minutely. + +Lanyard started to speak, but a growl from the captain, and a touch of the +lieutenant's hand on his sleeve cautioned him to silence. + +There was a small pause. The vessel seemed to have lost way altogether, to +swim like a spirit ship that Stygian tide. The lieutenant moved forward, +leaving Lanyard alone. The voice of the leadsman was stilled. By the wheel +the captain stood absolutely motionless, his body vaguely silhouetted +against the glow of the binnacle. The hands that gripped the wheel so +savagely were as steady as if carven out of stone. An atmosphere of +suspense enveloped the boat like a cloud. + +Lanyard grew conscious of something huge and formidable, a denser shadow in +the darkness beyond the bows, the loom of land. Off to starboard a point +of light appeared abruptly, precisely as if a golden pin had punctured the +black blanket of the night. The captain growled gutturals of relief and +command. The hands on the wheel shifted, steering exceeding small. A second +light shone out to port, then shifted slowly into range with the first, +till the two were as one. Again the bell sang in the operating room, and +the vessel forged ahead quietly to the urge of electric motors alone. A +third light and a fourth appeared, well apart to port and starboard, the +range lights precisely equidistant between them. Between these the U-boat +moved swiftly. They swam back on either hand and were abruptly extinguished +as if the night, resenting their insolent trespass, had gobbled both at a +gulp. + +The temperature became sensibly warmer and the salt air of the sea was +strongly tinctured with the sweet smell of pines and forest mould. + +Up forward carbons sputtered and spat; a searchlight was unsheathed and +carved the gloom as if it was butter, ranging swiftly over the tree-clad +shore of a burnished black lagoon, picking out en passant several unpainted +wooden structures, then steadying on a long and substantial landing stage, +on which several men stood waiting. + + + + +X + +AT BASE + + +As the U-boat, with motors dead and way lessening, glided up alongside +the head of that T-shaped landing stage and was made fast, the wireless +operator popped up from below, saluted the commander, and delivered a +written message. + +Lanyard, instinctively aware that this was the expected report from +Seventy-ninth Street on Dr. Paul Rodiek, quietly pulled himself together +and took quick observations. + +At best his chances in the all-too-probable emergency were far from +brilliant. Yet one might better perish trying, however hopelessly, than +passively submit to being shot down. + +The lieutenant, waspishly superintending the work of crew and base guards +at the mooring lines, stood preoccupied within an arm's length; while the +landing stage was a fair six feet away. From its T-head to the shore, the +distance was nothing less than two hundred yards. + +Desperate action and miraculous luck might take the Prussian by surprise +and enable one to snatch the service automatic from its holster at his +belt, leap to the stage, and shoot a way landward through the guards +clustered there; after which everything would depend on swiftness of foot +and the uncertain light permitting one to gain a refuge in the surrounding +woodland without a bullet in one's back. + +It was a sorry hope.... + +With catlike attention Lanyard watched the hands holding that paper to the +binnacle light--large hands, heavy and muscular but tremulous with drink +and nervous reaction from the long strain and cumulative horror of the +cruise then ending. Their aim would not be good, except by accident. None +the less, if the report were unfavourable, their first gesture would be +toward the holster, signalling to Lanyard that the moment had come to +initiate heroic measures. + +The Bavarian was an unconscionable time absorbing the import of the +message. Bending his face close to the paper, the better to make out the +writing, he read with moving lips, slowly, a doltish frown of concentration +clouding his congested countenance. + +At length, however, he stood up, swaying a little as he folded and pocketed +the paper. + +Lanyard relaxed. The man was too far gone in drink to be crafty, too sure +of his absolute power of life and death to imagine a need for craft. Since +his hand had not immediately sought the holster, it would not. + +Turbid accents uttered the name of Dr. Rodiek. + +Lanyard stepped forward alertly. "Yes, Herr Captain?" + +"New York says it had no knowledge of your intention to leave England on +the _Assyrian_, but that you may well have done so. The Wilhelmstrasse will +know, of course. It has already been telegraphed. Pending its reply, I am +to detain you." + +"How long?" Lanyard demurred. + +"As you know, transatlantic communications must now go by land telegraph to +the Border, by hand into Mexico, thence by radio via Venezuela to Berlin. +All that takes time. Also, we may not signal New York but at stated times +of night. You will be detained another twenty-four hours at least, possibly +longer." + +"My errand cannot wait." + +"It must." + +"You will obstruct the business of the Imperial Government at your peril." + +"I would incur still greater peril did I let you go," the commander replied +nervously. "With these swine-dogs at war with the Fatherland, our lives are +not worth _that_ should this base be betrayed." + +"Do I understand America has declared war?" + +"Two days since. Did you not know?" + +"The _Assyrian's_ wireless room was under guard: the captain published no +bulletins whatever." + +The Bavarian gave a gesture of impatience. + +"You will remain on board for the night," he announced heavily. + +"Pardon!" Lanyard insisted with every evidence of anxious excitement. +"What you tell me makes it more than ever imperative that I reach New York +without an hour's avoidable delay. I warn you, think well before you hinder +the discharge of my duty." + +"It is not necessary that I think," the commander replied. "My thinking has +all been done for me. Me, I obey my orders; it is not my part to question +their wisdom. Moreover, Herr Doctor, to my mind your insistence is to say +the least suspicious. Even had I discretion in the matter, I should hold +you. Therefore, you will keep a civil tongue in your head, or go below in +irons immediately!" + +He swung on his heel, showing an insolent back while he conferred with his +subaltern. + +And Lanyard shrugged appreciation of the futility of more contention +against such mulishness. Not that the Bavarian was not right enough! As to +that, one had really hoped for no better issue; but every shift is worth +trial till proved worthless; and he was no worse off now than if he had +submitted without complaint. Still one had Chance to look to for aid and +comfort in this stress; and Chance, the jade, is not always unkind to her +audacious suitors. + +Even now she flashed upon Lanyard a provoking intimation of her smile. +He began to divine possibilities in this overt ill-feeling between the +officers; advantage might be made of the racial hostility of Prussian and +Bavarian. + +The commander's attitude and tone were consistently overbearing, if his +words were inaudible to Lanyard. The lieutenant quite evidently submitted +only in form; his salute was punctiliously correct and curt; and as the +commander lumbered off down the landing stage, he grumbled indistinctly in +Lanyard's hearing: + +"Dog of a Bavarian!" + +"The good Herr Captain," Lanyard suggested pleasantly, "is not in the most +agreeable of tempers, yes?" + +The high and well-born lieutenant spat comprehensively into the darkness +overside. After a moment of hesitation he moved nearer and spoke in +confidential accents. And the fragrant air of the night was tainted with +the vinous effluvium of his breath. + +"Always he prattles of his precious duty!" the Prussian muttered. "Damn his +duty! Look you, Herr Doctor: months we have been on this cruise, yes, more +than three months out of Heligoland, penned together in this ramshackle +stinkpot, or isolated here in this God-forgotten hole, seeing nothing of +life, hearing nothing of the world but what little the radio tells +us--sick of the very sight of one another's faces! And now, when we have +accomplished a glorious feat and have every right to look for prompt recall +and the rewards of heroes, orders come to remain indefinitely and operate +against the North Atlantic fleet of the contemptible Yankee navy! The life +of a dog! And that noble commander of mine pretends to welcome it, talks +of one's duty to the Fatherland--as if he liked the work any better than +I!--solely to spite me!" + +"But why?" + +"Because he hates me," the lieutenant snarled passionately--"hates me even +as I hate him--he knows how well!" + +He interrupted himself to define his conception of the commander's +character in the freest vernacular of the Berlin underworld. + +Lanyard laughed amiably. "They are like that," he agreed--"those +Bavarians!" + +Which inspired the Prussian to deliver a phosphorescent diatribe on the +racial traits of the Bavarian people as comprehended by the North German +junker. + +"To be cooped up God knows how long in this putrescent death-trap with such +cattle," he concluded mutinously--"it passes all endurance!" + +"I wonder you stand it," Lanyard sympathised--"a man of spirit and good +birth, as one readily perceives. Though the life of a secret agent is not +altogether heavenly either, if you ask me," he added gratuitously. "Regard +me now, charged with a mission of most vital moment--more than ever so +since the Yankees have shown their teeth--delayed here indefinitely because +your excellent Herr Captain chooses to doubt my word." + +"Patience. Maybe your release comes quickly. Then he will regret--or would +had he wit enough. There is no cure for a fool." The sententiousness of +this aphorism was unhappily marred by a hiccough. "Anybody with eyes in his +head could see you are what you are...." + +The last of the operating-room crew piled up the hatchway, saluted, and +hurried ashore to join in noisy jubilations. There remained on the U-boat +only the lieutenant with Lanyard, and two base guards detailed as anchor +watch. + +"I must go," the lieutenant volunteered. "And believe me, one welcomes a +change of clothing and a dry bed after a week in this reeking sieve. As for +you, my friend, if it lay with me, you should receive the treatment due +a gentleman." A wave of maudlin camaraderie affected him. He passed an +affectionate arm through Lanyard's and was suffered, though the gorge of +the adventurer revolted at the familiarity. "I am sorry to leave you. No, +do not be astonished! No protestations, please! It is quite true. I know a +man of the right sort when I meet one, the sort even I can associate with +without loss of self-respect. It is a great pity you may not come with me +and make a night of it." + +"Another time, perhaps," Lanyard said. "The night may yet come when you and +I shall meet at the Metropole or the Admiral's Palace.... Who knows?" + +"Ah!" sighed the Prussian, enchanted. "What a night that will be, my +friend!... But now, it is too bad, I really must ask you to step below. +Such are my silly orders. I am made responsible for you. What do you think +of that for a joke, eh?" + +He laughed vacantly but loudly, and, attempting to poke a derisive thumb +into Lanyard's ribs, lost his balance. + +"What a responsibility!" said Lanyard gravely, holding him up. + +"Nonsense, that's what it is. You have no possible chance to escape." + +"Suppose I make one--tip you overboard, take to my heels--?" + +"You would be shot like a rabbit before you got half way to the shore." + +"Ah, but grant, for the sake of argument, that these brave fellows, the +guards, aim poorly in this gloom?" + +"Where would you go? Into the forest, naturally. But how far? You may +believe me when I tell you, not a hundred yards. It's a true wilderness, +scrub-oak and cedar and second growth choked with underbrush, almost +trackless. In five minutes you would be helplessly lost, in this blackness, +with no stars to steer by. We need only wait till daylight to find you +walking in a circle." + +"You can't mean," Lanyard pursued, learning something helpful every moment, +"there is no communicating road?" + +"The main woods road, yes: but that is far too well patrolled. Without the +countersign, you would be caught or shot a dozen times before you reached +the end of it." + +"Ah, well!"--with the sigh of a philosopher--"then I presume there's no way +out but by swimming." + +"Over to the beach you mean? Well, what then? You have got a twenty-mile +walk either way through deep sand sure to betray your footprints. At dawn +we follow and bag you at our leisure." + +"You are discouraging!" Lanyard complained. "I see I may as well go below +and be good. It's a dull life." + +"Tell you what," giggled the lieutenant, leading his prisoner to the +conning-tower hatch and lowering his voice: "do just that, go below and be +nice, and presently I will come back and we'll split a bottle. What do you +say to that, eh?" + +"Colossal!" + +"Not a bad notion, is it? I like it myself. One gets weary for the society +of a gentleman, you've no idea.... As soon as my commander is drunk enough, +I will slip away. How's that?" + +"Grossartig!" Lanyard approved, turning to descend. + +"Wait. You shall see for yourself what it means to have the friendship of +a man of my stamp." The lieutenant raised his voice, addressing the anchor +watch: "Attention. Heed with care: this gentleman is my friend. He is +detained merely as a matter of form. I do not wish him to be annoyed. Do +you understand? You are to leave him to himself as long as he remains +quietly below. But he is not to come on deck again till I return. Is all +that clear, imbeciles?" + +The imbeciles, saluting mechanically, indicated glimmerings of +comprehension. + +"Then below you go, Dr. Rodiek. And don't get impatient: I will rejoin you +as soon as possible." + +"Don't be long," Lanyard implored. + +As he lowered himself through the hatch he saw the Prussian stumble down +the gangplank and reel shoreward. + +Well satisfied with his diplomacy, Lanyard lingered a while in the conning +tower, closely studying and memorising the more salient features of the +Island of Martha's Vineyard and its adjacent waters and mainland as +delineated on a most comprehensive large-scale chart published by the +German Admiralty from exhaustive soundings and surveys of its own +navigators and typographers, with corrections of as recent date as the +first part of the year 1917. + +Here the breach in the south coast line which permitted the utilisation +of what had formerly been an extensive fresh-water pond as this secret +submarine base, was clearly shown. And a single glance confirmed the +lieutenant's statement concerning its remote isolation from settled +sections of the island. + +Somewhat dismayed, Lanyard descended to the central operating compartment +and scouted through the hold from bow bulkhead to stern, making certain he +enjoyed undisputed privacy. And it was so; every man-jack of the U-boat's +personnel--jaded to the marrow with its cramped accommodations, unremitting +toil and care, unsanitary smells and forbidding associations--having +naturally seized the earliest opportunity to escape so loathsome a prison. + +Lanyard, however, was anything but resentful of condemnation to this +solitary confinement. His interest in the interior arrangements of +submersibles seemed all but feverish, as intense as sudden; witness the +minute attention to detail which marked his second tour of inspection. On +this round he took his time. He had all night in which to work out his +salvation; the wildest schemes were revolving in his mind, the least +fantastic utterly impracticable without accurate knowledge of many matters; +and such knowledge might be gained only through patient investigation and +ungrudging expenditure of time. + +It was now something past ten by the chronometers. He could hardly do much +before dawn, lacking the instinct of a red Indian to guide him through +that night-bound waste of woodland. So he felt little need to slight his +researches through haste, except in anticipation of his lieutenant's +return. And as to that, Lanyard was moderately incredulous: he expected to +see nothing more of this new-found friend, unless the infatuation of the +Prussian proved far stronger than his head. + +Turning first to the private quarters of the commander, a somewhat more +commodious cubicle than that across the alleyway in which Lanyard had been +berthed, his interest was attracted by a small safe anchored to the deck +beneath the desk. + +To this Lanyard addressed himself without hesitation, solving the secret +of its combination readily through exercise of the most rudimentary of +professional principles. The problem it offered, indeed, was child's play +to such cunning of touch and hearing as had made the reputation of the Lone +Wolf. + +Open, the safe discovered to him a variety of articles of interest: +some five thousand dollars in English and American banknotes of large +denomination, several hundred in American gold; three distinct cipher +codes, one of these wholly novel in Lanyard's experience and so, he +believed, in the knowledge of the Allied secret services; the log of the +U-boat and the intimate diary of its commander, both in cryptograph; a +compact directory of German agents domiciled in Atlantic coast ports; a +very considerable accumulation of German Admiralty orders; together with +many documents of lesser moment. + +Rapidly sorting out the more valuable of these, Lanyard disposed them about +his person, then confiscated the banknotes as indemnity for his stolen +money-belt, replaced the rejections, and reclosed and locked the safe. + +His next interest was to arm himself. After several disappointments he +discovered arms-lockers beneath the berths for the crew in the forward +compartment just aft of that devoted to torpedo tubes. Here he selected +a latest pattern German navy automatic pistol with three extra cartridge +clips and, after some hesitation, a peculiarly devilish magazine rifle +firing explosive bullets. The latter he placed handily, yet out of sight, +near the foot of the companion ladder. The pistol fitted snugly a trousers +pocket, its bulk hidden by the sag of his sweater.... + +Some time later the lieutenant, slipping down the ladder, found Lanyard +studying with a convincing aspect of childlike bewilderment the complicated +combinations of machinery which crowded the central operating compartment. + +Fresh from a bath and shave and wearing a clean uniform, the Prussian +showed vast improvement in looks if not in equilibrium. But his mouth +twitched fitfully, his eyes wandered and disclosed a disquieting +superabundance of white, and his tongue was noticeably thicker than before. + +"Well, my friend!" he said--"you are truly disappointing. The watch said +you had made no sound since going below. I was afraid of another of those +famous naps of yours." + +"With the prospect of a bottle with you? Impossible! I have been waiting +and waiting, with my tongue hanging out." + +"Too bad. Why did you not look around, help yourself? Why not?" the +lieutenant demanded. "Have I not given you freedom of ship? It is yours, +everything here 'yours!" + +"I want nothing but an end to this great thirst," Lanyard protested. + +"Then--God in Heaven!--why we standing here? Come!" + +Releasing the handrail the Prussian took careful aim for the alleyway door, +launched himself toward it, slipped on the greasy metal grating, and would +have fallen heavily but for Lanyard. + +Cursing pettishly, he stood up, threw off Lanyard's arms without thanks, +and made a new attempt, this time shooting headlong through the alleyway, +to bring up against the wing table in the third forward compartment, the +kitchen and messroom in one. + +"A great pity," he muttered, opening a locker and fumbling in its +depths--"rotten pity...." + +"What?" + +"Keep you waiting so long. Not my fault." The lieutenant brought forth two +bottles of champagne and one of brandy. "You open them, Herr Doctor, like +'good fellow," he said, placing the three on the table. "I just wish you +'understand no discourtesy meant ... unavoidably detained ... beastly +commander ... drunk. Give 'my word, hopelessly drunk. Poor fool...." + +"If my judgment is sound," Lanyard said, "this noble vessel will soon need +a new commander." + +"True. Quite true." The Prussian placed two aluminium cups upon the table +and half filled one with brandy, then brimmed it with champagne. "Try +that," he said thickly, "That will keep your tail up, my friend." + +"Many thanks," Lanyard protested, filling another cup with undiluted +champagne. "I prefer one thing at a time." + +"Unfortunate ... don't know what is good ... King's peg ... wonderful +drink. No matter. To 'new commander--prosit!" + +He drained his cup at a gulp. + +"To the new commander!" Lanyard echoed, and drank judiciously. +"Excellent.... How long can he last, do you think, at this pace?" + +"No telling--not long--too long for my liking. Shall I tell 'something?" +He filled his cup again, half and half, and sat down, his wicked, rat-like +face more than ever pale and repulsive. "Not 'whisper of this, mind--though +I think 'crew sometimes suspects: he's going mad!" + +"Not that Bavarian?" + +The lieutenant nodded wisely. "If 'knew him as I know him, 'never be +surprised, my friend. You think too much drink. Yes, but not entirely. He +keeps seeing things, hearing them, especially by night." + +"What sort of things?" + +"Faces." The Prussian licked his lips, glanced furtively over his shoulder, +and drank. "Dead faces, eyes eaten out, seaweed in their hair.... And +voices--he's forever hearing voices ... people trying to talk, 'can't +make him understand because 'mouths 'full of water, you know. But they +understand one another, keep discussing how to get at him.... He tells me +about it ... I tell you, it is Hell to hear him talk ... especially when +submerged, as last night. Then he hears them fumbling all over the hull +with their stumpy fingers, trying to find 'way in, talking about him. And +he tells me, and keeps insisting, till sometimes I seem to hear them, too. +But I don't. Before God, I don't! You don't believe I do, do you?" + +His eyes rolled wildly. + +"Why should you?" + +"Just so: why should I?" The lieutenant's accents rose to a shrill pitch. +"I have not his record ... still in training when he sent _Lusitania_ to +the bottom. Yes: it was he, second-in-command, in charge of torpedo tubes. +His own hand fired that torpedo...." + +He fell silent, staring moodily into his cup, perhaps thinking of the +number of torpedoes it had been his own lot to discharge upon errands of +slaughter. + +And the dead silence of the ship was made audible by a stealthy drip-drip +of water from the seams, and the furtive slaver of the tide on the outer +plates. + +A shiver ran through the body of the Prussian. He pulled himself together +with obvious effort, looked up with an uncertain grin, and passed a shaking +hand across his writhing lips. + +"All foolishness, of course, but 'gets on one's nerves ... constant +association with man like that.... 'Know what he's doing now, or was, when +I came away? Sitting up with doors and windows locked and blinds drawn, +drinking brandy neat. He can't sleep by night if sober, or without 'light +in the room. If he does, he knows they will get him ... people he hears +crawling up from the sea, slopping round the house, mumbling, whimpering in +the dark--" + +He broke off abruptly, with a whisper more dreadful than a +shriek--"_God_!"--and jumped to his feet, whipping the automatic from his +belt. + +A footfall sounded in one of the after compartments. Others followed. + +Someone was coming slowly down the alleyway, someone with dragging, heavy +feet. + +The lieutenant waited motionless, as one petrified with terror. + +The bulkhead doorway framed the figure of the commander. He paused there, +louring at his subaltern with haunted eyes ablaze in a face like parchment. + +"So!" he said, nodding. "As I thought. It is thus I find you, fraternising +with one who may be, for all we know, an enemy to the Fatherland. You +drunken, babbling fool! Get ashore!" His angry foot thumped the grating. +"Get ashore, and report yourself under arrest!" + +With no more warning than a strangled snarl, the lieutenant shot him +through the head. + + + + +XI + +UNDER THE ROSE + + +Vague stupefaction replaced the scowl upon the countenance of the +commander. He swayed, a hand faltering to his forehead, where dark blood +was beginning to well from a cleanly drilled puncture. Then he collapsed +completely, falling prone across the raised sill of the bulkhead opening. A +convulsive tremor shook savagely his huge frame. + +Thereafter he was quite still. + +The report of that one shot had reverberated stunningly within those narrow +walls of steel. Momentarily Lanyard looked to see the alarmed anchor watch +appear; so too, apparently, the lieutenant, who remained immobile, pistol +poised in a hand for the moment strangely steady, gaze fixed upon the mouth +of the alleyway. + +But through a long minute no other sounds were audible than that ceaseless +dripping from frames and seams, with that muted, terrible mouthing of +waters on the plates. + +Unable either to fathom or forecast the workings of the drink-maddened +mentality masked by that rat-like face, Lanyard waited with a hand covertly +grasping the automatic in his pocket. There was no telling; at any moment +that murderous mania might veer his way. And he was not content to die, not +yet, not in any event by the hand of a decadent little beast of a Boche. + +Slowly the arm of the lieutenant dropped, lowering the pistol till its +muzzle chattered on the top of the table: a noise that broke the spell upon +his senses. He looked down in dull brutish wonder, then roused and with a +gesture of horror let the weapon fall clattering. + +His glance shifting to the body of his commander, he started violently, +backing up against the plates to put all possible distance between himself +and his handiwork. His lips moved, framing phrases at first incoherent, +presently articulate in part: + +"... _done it at last!... Knew I must soon_...." + +Abruptly he looked up at Lanyard. + +"Bear witness," he cried: "I was provoked beyond human endurance. He +insulted me in your presence ... me!... that scum!" + +Lanyard said nothing, but met his gaze with a blank, non-committal stare, +under which the eyes of the lieutenant wavered and fell. + +Then with a start he realised anew the significance of that still figure at +his feet, and tried to shake some of the swagger back into his wretched, +fear-racked being. + +"A good job!" he muttered defiantly. "And you will stand by me, I know.... +Only there is nothing in that, of course, no justification possible before +a court martial. Even your testimony could not save me ... I am done for, +utterly...." + +He hung his head. Lanyard heard whispered words: "_degraded," "dishonour," +"firing squad_".... + +A chronometer in the central operating compartment tolled eight bells. + +With a sharp cry the lieutenant dropped to his knees. "He can't be dead!" +he shrilled. "It is all play-acting, to frighten me!" + +Frantically he sought to turn the body over. + +Lanyard's hand shot swiftly out, capturing the automatic on the table. With +rapid and sure gestures he extracted and pocketed the clip, drew back the +breech, ejecting into his palm the one shell in the barrel, and replaced +the weapon, all before the Prussian gave over his insane efforts to +resurrect the dead. + +"He is dead enough," he announced, eyeing Lanyard morosely--"beyond +helping.... Look here; are you with me or against me?" + +"Need you ask?" + +"I count on you, then. Good. I think we can cover this up." + +He checked and stood for a while lost in thought. + +"How?" Lanyard roused him. + +"Simply enough: I go on deck, send the watch ashore on some trumped-up +errand. They suspect nothing, thinking the commander and I have you in +charge. If they heard that shot, I will say one of us dropped a bottle +of champagne, and it exploded.... When they are gone, I bring the dory +alongside; and with your help it should be an easy matter to carry this +body up, weight it, row it out to the middle of the lagoon, dump it +overboard. Then we return. Our story is, the commander followed the anchor +watch ashore; if later he wandered off, got lost in the woods in his +alcoholic delirium, that is no affair of ours. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly," said Lanyard with a look of fatuous innocence. "But how about +the water--is it deep enough?" + +The Prussian took no pains to dissemble his scorn of this question, +seemingly so witless. "To cover the body? Why, even here there is +sufficient depth at low tide for us to submerge completely, barring the +periscopes. And it is deeper yet in the middle." + +"Thanks," Lanyard replied meekly. + +"Have another drink? No?" The Prussian tossed off a half cupful of +undiluted brandy, and shuddered. "Then stop here. I'll be back in a--" + +"Half a minute." The lieutenant halted in the act of stepping across the +body. Lanyard levelled a hand at the automatic. "Do you mind taking that +with you? I have no desire to be found here with it and a dead man, should +anything prevent your return." + +With a sickly grimace the murderer snatched up the weapon, thrust it in its +holster, and hurriedly departed. + +Lanyard watched him pass through the alleyway and turn toward the companion +ladder, then followed quietly. + +As the lieutenant climbed out on deck, Lanyard ascended to the conning +tower and waited there, listening. He could not quite make out what was +said; but after a few brusque words of command two pair of boots rang on +the gangplank and thumped away down the stage. At the same time Lanyard let +himself noiselessly out through the hatch. + +As soon as his vision grew reconciled to the change from light to darkness, +he discovered the slender figure of the lieutenant skulking on tip-toe +after the retreating anchor watch; about midway on the landing stage, +however, he paused and bent over one of the piles, apparently fumbling with +the painter of a small boat moored in the black shadows below. + +At this Lanyard began to move along the deck, one by one working the +mooring lines clear of their cleats and dropping them gently overboard, +till but two were left to hold the U-boat in place. + +Throughout he kept watch upon the manoeuvres of the lieutenant--saw him +drop over the side of the stage, heard a thump of feet as he landed in a +boat, and a subsequent creak of oar-locks. + +The small boat was rounding the bows of the submarine when the adventurer +ducked back through conning tower to hold. + +He was standing where he had been left when the lieutenant came below. + +"It's all right," this last announced with shabby bravado as he stepped +over the body in the doorway. "We are rid of that damned watch for a time. +They won't return within half an hour at least. I have the dory moored +amidships. If we are lively, this dirty job will be over in no time at +all." + +Lanyard nodded. "I am ready." + +"No need to hurry--plenty of time for one more drink." The Prussian +splashed brandy into the cup, filling it to the brim. "And God knows I need +it!" + +Lanyard watched critically as, with head well back, he drained that +staggering dose of raw spirit gulp by gulp without once removing the cup +from his lips. No mortal man could drink like that and stand up under it: +it was now a mere question of time.... + +Hardly that: the hand of the murderer shook and wavered widely as he put +down the cup. For a moment he swayed with eyes fixed and glazing, features +visibly losing plasticity, then lurched forward, knocking the brandy bottle +to the floor, swung around a full half turn in blind effort to re-establish +equilibrium, fell backward upon the table, and lay racked from head to foot +with savage spasms, hands clawing empty air, chest labouring vainly to win +sufficient oxygen to combat the poison with which his system was saturated. + +Moving to his side, Lanyard laid a hand upon the left breast. The man's +heart was hammering his ribs with agonizing blows, at first rapid, by +degrees more slow and feeble. + +No power on earth could save him now: he had committed suicide as surely as +murder. + +Wasting not another glance or thought upon him Lanyard hurried aft to the +central operating room. + +The time he had spent there, an hour earlier, was by no means lost in +purposeless marvelling. He boasted a certain aptitude for mechanics, +perhaps legitimately inherited from that obscure origin of his, largely +fostered by the requirements of his craft; into the bargain, he had been +privileged ere now to gain some slight insight into the principles of +submersible operation. If obliged to work swiftly and in some instances +upon the advice of intuition rather than practical knowledge, he went not +unintelligently about his task, made few false moves. + +Turning first to the diving controls, he adjusted the hydroplanes to their +extreme downward inclination, then made the rounds of the vent valves, +opening all wide. With a sharp hissing and whistling the air from the +auxiliary tanks was driven inboard, and as Lanyard manipulated the wheels +operating the forward and aft groups of Kingston valves, to the hissing was +added the suck and gurgle of water flooding the main and auxiliary ballast +and adjusting tanks. + +Immediately the U-boat began to sink. Lanyard delayed only to close the +switches which controlled the electric motors. As their drone gained volume +he grasped the rifle and swarmed up the companion-ladder, passing through +the conning tower to deck with little or nothing to spare--with, in fact, +barely time to throw off the two mooring lines and jump into the small boat +before water, sweeping hungrily up over deck and bridge, began to cascade +through conning tower and torpedo hatchways. + +Constrained to cut the painter lest the dory be drawn down with the +fast-sinking submarine, he fitted oars to locks and put his back to them, +swinging the small boat hastily clear of whirlpools which formed as the +waves closed over the spot where the U-boat had rested. + +From first to last less than five minutes' activity had been needed for +the task of scotching this water-moccasin of the salt seas and putting its +keepers at the mercy of the country whose hospitality they had too long +abused. + +Well content, after a little, Lanyard lay on his oars and contemplated with +much interest what the night permitted to be visible: the landing stage, no +more than a dark, vague mass in the darkness; the land picked out with but +few lights, mainly at windows of the base buildings, painting dim ribbons +upon the polished floor of the lagoon. + +Methodically these were eclipsed as a moving figure passed before them. + +Listening intently, Lanyard could distinguish the slow footfalls of an +unsuspecting sentry--no other sounds, more than gentle voices of the night: +murmurs of blind wavelets, the plaintive whisper of a little breeze belated +amid the tree-tops of that dark forest, and a slow, weary soughing of +swells upon the distant ocean shore. + +Perceiving as yet not the slightest indication of an alarm ashore, Lanyard +ventured to continue rowing, but with utmost caution, lifting and dipping +his blades as gingerly as though they were fashioned of brittle glass, and +for want of a better guide keeping the stern of the dory square to the +shank of the T-stage. + +In time the bows grounded lightly on sand. The melancholy voice of the sea +now seemed a heavier sighing in the stillness. He pushed off and rowed on +parallel with a dark shore line, so close in that his starboard oar touched +bottom at each stroke. + +At intervals he paused and rested, striving vainly to garner some clue to +his bearings. Inexorably the blackness forbade that. He might have failed +ere dawn to grope a way out of that trap had not the disappearance of the +submarine been discovered within the hour. + +A sudden clamour rose in the quarter of the landing stage, first one great +shout of dismay, then two voices bellowing together, then others. Several +rifle-shots were fired in the air. More lights broke out in windows ashore. +Many feet drummed resoundingly upon the stage, and the confusion of voices +attained a pitch of wild, hysteric uproar. Of a sudden a flare was lighted +and tossed far out upon the bosom of the lagoon. + +Surprised by that sharp and merciless blue glare, Lanyard instinctively +shipped oars and picked up the rifle. He could see so clearly that +huddle of figures upon the head of the landing stage that he confidently +apprehended being fired upon at any moment; but minutes lengthened and +he was not. Either the Germans were looking for bigger game than a dory +adrift, or the dazzling flare hindered more than aided their vision. + +At length persuaded that he had not been detected, Lanyard put aside the +rifle and resumed the oars. Now his course was made beautifully clear to +him: the blue light showed him that outlet to the sea which he sought +within a hundred yards' distance. + +Presently the flare began to wane. It was not renewed. Altogether unseen, +unsuspected, Lanyard swung the dory into the breach, and drove it seaward +with all his might. + +Swiftly the lagoon was shut out by narrow closing banks. The blue glare +died out behind a black profile of rounded dunes. Lanyard turned the bow +eastward, rowing broadside to the shore. + +After something more than an hour of this mode of progress, he struck in +toward the beach, disembarked in ankle-deep waters, slung the rifle over +his shoulder by its strap and, pushing the dory off, abandoned it to the +whim of the sea. + +Then again he set his face to the east, following the contour of the beach +just within the wash of the tide: thereby making sure that there should +be no trail of footprints in the sand to guide a possible pursuit in the +morning. + +The rising sun found him purposefully splashing on, weary but enheartened +by the discovery that he had left behind the more thickly wooded section of +the island. + +Presently, turning in to the dry beach for the first time, he climbed +to the summit of a dune somewhat higher than its fellows, and took +observations, finding that he had come near to the eastern extremity of the +island. + +At some distance to his right a wagon road, faintly rutted in sand and +overgrown with beach grass, struck inland. + +Following this at a venture, he came, at about eight o'clock, upon the +outskirts of a waterside community. + +Before proceeding he hid the magazine rifle in a thicket, then made a wide +detour, and picked up a roadway which entered the village from the north. + +If his disreputable appearance was calculated to excite comment, readiness +in disbursing money to remedy such shortcomings made amends for Lanyard's +taciturnity. Within two hours, shaved, bathed, and inconspicuously dressed +in a cheap suit of ready-made clothing, he was breakfasting famously upon +the plain fare of a commercial tavern. + +The town, he learned, was the one-time important whaling port of Edgartown. +He would be able to leave for the mainland on a ferry steamer sailing early +in the afternoon. + +Ten minutes before going abroad he filed a long telegram in code addressed +to the head of the British Secret Service in New York.... + +Consequences manifold and various ensued. + +When the telegram had been delivered and decoded--both transactions being +marked by reasonable promptitude--the head of the British Secret Service +in New York called the British Embassy in Washington on the long distance +telephone. + +Shortly thereafter an attaché of the British Embassy jumped into a +motor-car and had himself driven to one of the cardinal departments of the +Federal Government. + +When he had kicked his heels in an antechamber upward of an hour, he was +received, affably enough, by the head of the department, a smug, open-faced +gentleman whose mood was largely preoccupied with illusions of grandeur, +who was, in short, interested far more in considering how splendid it was +to be himself than in hearing about any mare's-nest of a German U-boat base +on the south shore of Martha's Vineyard. + +He was, however, indulgent enough to promise to give the matter his +distinguished consideration in due course. + +He even went so far as to have his secretary make a note of what alleged +information this young Englishman had to impart. + +During the night he chanced to wake up and recall the matter, and concluded +that, all things considered, it would do no harm to give the United States +Navy a little amusement and exercise, even if it should turn out that the +rumour of this submarine base was a canard. + +So, the next morning, he went to his desk some time before noon, and issued +a lot of orders. One of them had to do with the necessity for absolute +secrecy. + +During the day several minor officials of the department might have been, +and indeed were, observed going about their business with painfully +tight-lipped expressions. + +Also many messages were transmitted by wireless, telephone, and telegraph, +to various persons charged with the defense of the Atlantic Coast; some of +these were code messages, some were not. + +That same night a great forest fire sprang up on the south shore of +Martha's Vineyard, both preceded and accompanied by a series of heavy +explosions. + +The first United States vessel to reach the lagoon found only charred +remains of a landing stage and several buildings and, at the bottom of the +lagoon, an incoherent mass of wreckage, a twisted and shattered chaos of +steel plates and framework that might possibly have been a perfectly sound +submarine, though sunken, had somebody not been warned in ample time +to permit its destruction through the agency of trinitrotoluene, that +enormously efficient modern explosive nicknamed by British military and +naval experts "T.N.T.," and by the Germans "Trotyl." + + + + +XII + +RESURRECTION + + +The early editions of those New York evening newspapers which Lanyard +purchased in Providence, when he changed trains there en route from New +Bedford to New York, carried multi-column and most picturesque accounts of +the _Assyrian_ disaster. + +But the whole truth was in none. + +Lanyard laid aside the last paper privately satisfied that, for no-doubt +praiseworthy reasons of its own, Washington had seen fit to dictate the +suppression of a number of extremely pertinent circumstances and facts +which could hardly have escaped governmental knowledge. + +Already, one inferred, a sort of censorship was at work, an effective if +comparatively modest precursor to that noble volunteer committee which was +presently with touching spontaneity to fasten itself upon an astonished +Ship of State before it could gather enough way to escape such cirripede +attachments. + +Presumably it was not thought wise to disconcert a great people, in the +complacence of its awakening to the fact that it was remotely at war with +the Hun, with information that a Boche submersible was, or of late had +been, operating in the neighbourhood of Nantucket. + +Unanimously the sinking of the _Assyrian_ was ascribed to an internal +explosion of unknown origin. No paper hinted that German secret agents +might possibly have figured incogniti among her passengers. There was +mention neither of the flare which had burned on her after deck to make +the _Assyrian_ a conspicuous target in the night, nor of any of the other +untoward events which had led up to the explosion. Nothing whatever +was said of the shot fired at the submerging U-boat by a United States +torpedo-boat destroyer speeding to the rescue. + +Still, the bare facts alone were sufficiently appalling. Reading what had +been permitted to gain publication, Lanyard experienced a qualm of horror +together with the thought that, even had he drowned as he had expected to +drown, such a fate had almost been preferable to participation in those +awful ten minutes precipitated by that pale messenger of death which had so +narrowly missed Lanyard himself as he rested on the bosom of the sea. + +Within ten minutes after receiving her coup de grâce the _Assyrian_ had +gone under; barely that much time had been permitted a passenger list of +seventy-two and a personnel of nearly three hundred souls in which to rouse +from dreams of security and take to the lifeboats. + +Thanks to the frenzied haste compelled by the swift settling of the ship, +more than one boat had been capsized. Others had been sunk--literally +driven under--by masses of humanity cascading into them from slanting +decks. Others, again, had never been launched at all. + +The utmost efforts of the destroyer, fortuitously so near at hand, had +served to rescue but thirty-one passengers and one hundred and eighty of +the crew. + +In the list of survivors Lanyard found these names: + + Becker, Julius--New York + Brooke, Cecelia--London + Crane, Robert T.--New York + Dressier, Emil--Geneva + O'Reilly, Edmund--Detroit + Putnam, Bartlett--Philadelphia + Velasco, Arturo--Buenos Aires + +Among the injured, Lieutenant Lionel Thackeray, D.S.O., was listed as +suffering from concussion of the brain, said to have been contracted +through a fall while attempting to aid the launching of a lifeboat. + +In the long roster of the drowned these names appeared: + + Bartholomew, Archer--London + Duchemin, André--Paris + Von Harden, Baron Gustav--Amsterdam + Osborne, Captain E. W.--London + +Of all the officers, Mr. Sherry was a solitary survivor, fished out of the +sea after going down with his ship. + +No list boasted the name "Karl." + +Lacking accommodations for the rescued, it was stated, the destroyer had +summoned by wireless the east-bound freight steamship _Saratoga_, which had +trans-shipped the unfortunates and turned back to New York.... + +Throughout the best part of that journey from Providence to New York +Lanyard sat blankly staring into the black mirror of the window beside +his chair, revolving schemes for his immediate future in the light of +information derived, indirectly as much as directly, from these newspaper +stories. + +Retrospective consideration of that voyage left little room for doubt that +the designs of the German agents had been thoughtfully matured. They had +been quiet enough between their first stroke in the dark and their last, +between the burglary of Cecelia Brooke's stateroom the first night out and +those murderous attacks on Bartholomew and Thackeray. Unquestionably, +had they bided their time pending that hour when, according to their +information, the submersible would be off Nantucket, awaiting their signal +to sink the _Assyrian_--a signal which would never have been given had +their plans proved successful, had they not made the ship too hot to hold +them, and finally had they not made every provision for their own escape +when the ship went down. + +Lanyard was confident that all of their company had been warned to hold +themselves ready, and consequently had come off scot free--all, that is, +save that victim of treachery, the unhappy Baron von Harden. + +If the number of that group which Lanyard had selected as comprising a +majority of his enemies, those nine who had discussed the Lone Wolf in the +smoking room, was now reduced to five--Becker, Dressier, O'Reilly, Putnam, +and Velasco--or four, eliminating Putnam, of whose loyalty there could be +no question--Lanyard still had no means of knowing how many confederates +among the other passengers these four might not have had. + +And even four men who appreciated what peril to their plans inhered in the +Lone Wolf, even four made a ponderable array of desperate enemies to have +at large in New York, apt to be encountered at any corner, apt at any time +to espy and recognise him without his knowledge. + +This situation imposed upon him two major tasks of immediate moment: he +must hunt down those four one by one and either satisfy himself as to their +innocence of harmful intent or put them permanently _hors de combat_; and +he must extinguish utterly, once and for all time, that amiable personality +whose brief span had been restricted to the decks of the _Assyrian_, +Monsieur André Duchemin. + +That one must be buried deep, beyond all peradventure of involuntary +resurrection. + +Fortunately the last step toward the positive metamorphosis indicated had +been taken that very morning, when the Gallic beard of Monsieur Duchemin +was erased by the razor of a New England barber, whose shears had likewise +eradicated every trace of a Continental mode of hair-dressing. There +remained about Lanyard little to remind of André Duchemin but his eyes; and +the look of one's eyes, as every good actor knows, is something far more +easy to disguise than is commonly believed. + +But it was hardly in human nature not to mourn the untimely demise of so +useful a body, one who carried such beautiful credentials and serviceable +letters of introduction, whose character boasted so much charm with a +solitary fault--too facile vulnerability to the prying eyes of those to +whom Paris meant those days and social strata in which Michael Lanyard +had moved and had his being. Witness--according to Crane--the demoniac +cleverness of the Brazilian in unmasking the Duchemin incognito. + +Suspicion was taking form in Lanyard's reflections that he had paid far +too little attention to Seńor Arturo Velasco of Buenos Aires, whose +avowed avocation of amateur criminologist might easily be synonymous with +interests much less innocuous. + +Or why had Velasco been so quick to communicate recognition of Lanyard to +an employee of the United States Secret Service? + +For that matter, why had he felt called so publicly to descant upon the +natural history of the Lone Wolf? In order to focus upon that one the +attentions of his enemies? Or to put him on guard? + +It was altogether perplexing. Was one to esteem Velasco friend or foe? + +Lanyard could comfort himself only with the promise he should one day know, +and that without undue delay. + +Alighting in Grand Central Terminus late at night, he made his way to +Forty-second Street and there, in the staring headlines of a "Late Extra," +read the news that the steamship _Saratoga_ had suffered a crippling +engine-room accident and was limping slowly toward port, still something +like eighteen hours out. + +Wondering if it were presumption to construe this as an omen that the stars +in their courses fought for him, Lanyard went west to Broadway afoot, all +the way beset with a sense of incredulity; it was difficult to believe that +he was himself, alive and at large in this city of wonder and space, where +people moved at leisure and without fear on broad streets that resembled +deep-bitten channels for rivers of light. He was all too wont with nights +of dread and trembling, with the mediaeval gloom that enwrapped the cities +of Europe by night, their grim black streets desolate but for a few, +infrequent, scurrying shapes of fright.... While here the very beggars +walked with heads unbowed, and men and women of happier estate laughed and +played and made love lightly in the scampering taxis that whisked them +homeward from restaurants of the feverish midnight. + +A people at war, actually at grips with the Blond Beast, arrayed to +defend itself and all humanity against conquest by that loathsome incubus +incarnate, a people heedless, carefree, irresponsible, refusing to credit +its peril.... + +Here and there a recruiting poster, down the broad reaches of Fifth Avenue +a display of bunting, no other hint of war-time spirit and gravity.... + +Longacre Square, a weltering lake of kaleidoscopic radiance, even at this +late hour thronged with carnival crowds, not one note of sobriety in the +night.... + +Lanyard lifted a wondering gaze to the livid sky whose far, clear stars +were paled and shamed by the up-flung glare, like eyes of innocence peering +down into a pit of hell. + +Inscrutable! + +Yet one could hardly be numb to the subtle, heady intoxication of those +cool, immaculate, sea-sweet airs which swept the streets, instilling +self-confidence and lightness of spirit even in heads shadowed with the woe +of war-worn Europe. + +Lanyard had not crossed the Avenue before he found himself walking with a +brisker stride, holding his own head high.... + +On impulse, despite the lateness of the hour, albeit with misgivings +justified in the issue, he hailed a taxicab and had himself driven to the +headquarters of the British Secret Service in America, an unostentatious +dwelling on the northwest corner of West End Avenue at Ninety-fifth Street. + +Here a civil footman answered the door and Lanyard's enquiries with the +information that Colonel Stanistreet had unexpectedly been called out +of town and would not return before evening of the next day, while his +secretary, Mr. Blensop, had gone to a play and might not come home till all +hours. + +More impatient than disappointed, Lanyard climbed back into his cab, and in +consequence of consultation with its friendly minded chauffeur, eventually +put up for the night in an Eighth Avenue hotel of the class that made +Senator Raines famous, a hostelry brazenly proclaiming accommodations "for +gentlemen only," whereas it offered entertainment for both man and beast +and catered rather more to beast than to man. + +However, it served; it was inconspicuous and made no demands upon a shabby +traveller sans luggage, more than payment in advance. + +Early abroad, Lanyard breakfasted with attention fixed to the advertising +columns of the _Herald_, and by mid-morning was established as sub-tenant +of a furnished bachelor apartment on Fifty-eighth Street near Seventh +Avenue, a tiny nest of few rooms on the street level, with entrances from +both the general lobby and the street direct: an admirable arrangement for +one who might choose to come and go without supervision or challenge. + +Lacking local references as to his character, Lanyard was obliged to pay +three months' rent in advance in addition to making a substantial deposit +to cover possible damage to the furnishings. + +His name, a spur-of-the-moment selection, was recorded in the lease as +Anthony Ember. + +At noon he brought to his lodgings two trunks salvaged from a storage +warehouse wherein they had been deposited more than three years since, on +the eve of his flight with his family from America, an affair of haste and +secrecy forbidding the handicap of heavy impedimenta. + +Thus Lanyard became once more possessor of a tolerably comprehensive +wardrobe. + +But, those trunks released more than his personal belongings; intermingled +were possessions that had been his wife's and his boy's. As he unpacked, +memories peopled those perfunctorily luxurious lodgings of the transient +with melancholy ghosts as sweet and sad as lavender and rue. + +For hours on end the man sat idle, head bowed down, hands plucking +aimlessly at small broidered garments. + +And if in the sweep and turmoil of late events he seemed to have forgotten +for a little that feud which had brought him overseas, he roused from this +brief interlude of saddened dreaming with the iron of deadly purpose newly +entered into his soul, and in his heart one dominant thought, that now his +hour with Ekstrom could not, must not, be long deferred. + +In the street there rose an uproar of inhuman bawling. Lanyard went to the +private door, hailed one of the husky authors of the din, an itinerant +news-vendor, and disbursed a nickel coin for one cent's worth of spushul +uxtry and four cents' worth of howling impudence. + +He found no more of interest in the newspaper than the information that the +_Saratoga_ had been sighted off Fire Island and was expected to dock in New +York not later than eight o'clock that night. + +This, however, was acceptable reading. Lanyard had work to do which were +better done before "Karl" and his crew found opportunity to communicate +directly with their collaborators ashore, work which it were unwise +to initiate before nightfall lent a cloak of shadows to hoodwink the +ever-possible adventitious German spy. + +Nor was he so fatuous as to fancy it would profit him to call before nine +o'clock at the house on West End Avenue. No earlier might he hope to find +Colonel the Honourable George Fleetwood-Stanistreet near the end of his +dinner, and so in a mood approachable and receptive. + +But there could be no harm in reconnaissance by daylight. + +He whiled away the latter part of the afternoon in taxicabs, by dint of +frequent changes contriving in the most casual fashion imaginable to pass +the Seventy-ninth Street branch of the Wilhelmstrasse no less than four +times. + +Little rewarded these tactics other than a fairly accurate mental +photograph of the building and its situation--and a growing suspicion that +the United States Government had profited nothing by England's lessons +of early war days in respect of the one way to cope with resident enemy +aliens. + +The house stood upon a corner, occupying half of an avenue block--the +northern half of which was the site of a towering apartment house in +course of construction--and loomed over its lesser neighbours a monumental +monstrosity of architecture, as formidable as a fortress, its lower tiers +of windows barred with iron, substantial iron grilles ready to bar its +main entrance, even heavier gates guarding the carriage court in the +side street. In all a stronghold not easy for the most accomplished +house-breaker to force; yet the heart of it was Lanyard's goal; for there, +he believed, Ekstrom (under whatever _nom de guerre_) lay hidden, or if not +Ekstrom, at least a clear lead to his whereabouts. + +Certainly that one could not be far from the powerful wireless station +secretly maintained on the roof of this weird jumble of architectural +periods, its aërials cunningly hidden in the crowning atrocity of its +minaret: a station reputedly so powerful that it could receive Berlin's +nightly outgivings of news and orders, and, in emergency, transmit them to +other secret stations in Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela. + +Yet the shrewdest scrutiny of eyes trained to detect police agents at +sight, however well disguised, failed to espy one sign of any sort of +espionage upon this nest of rattlesnakes. + +Apparently its tenants came and went as they willed, untroubled by and +contemptuous of governmental surveillance. + +A handsome limousine car pulled up at its carriage block as Lanyard drove +by, one time, and a pretty woman, exquisitely gowned, alighted and was +welcomed by hospitable front doors that opened before she could ring: a +woman Lanyard knew as one of the most daring, diabolically clever, and +unscrupulous creatures of the Wilhelmstrasse, one whose life would not have +been worth an hour's purchase had she ventured to show herself in Paris, +London, or Petrograd at any time since the outbreak of the war. + +He drove on, deep in amaze. + +Indications were not wanting, on the other hand, that enemy spies +maintained close watch upon the movements of those who frequented the house +on West End Avenue. A German agent whom Lanyard knew by sight was strolling +by as his taxi rounded its corner and swung on down toward Riverside Drive. + +This more modest residence possessed a brick-walled garden at the back, on +the Ninety-fifth Street side. And if the top of the wall was crusted with +broken glass in a fashion truly British, it had a door, and the door a +lock. And Lanyard made a note thereon. + +And when he went home to dress for dinner, he opened up the false bottom +of one of his trunks and selected from a store of cloth-wrapped bundles +therein one which contained a small bunch of innocent-looking keys whose +true _raison d'ętre_ was anything in the world but guileless. + +Later he did himself very well at Delmonico's, enjoying for the first time +in many years a well-balanced dinner faultlessly cooked and served amid +quiet surroundings that carried memory back half a decade to the Paris that +was, the Paris that nevermore will be.... + +At nine precisely he paid off a taxicab at the corner of Ninety-fifth +Street. + +While waiting on the doorstep of the corner house, he raked the street +right and left with searching glances, and was somewhat reassured. +Apparently he called at an hour when the Boche pickets were off duty; at +the moment there was no pedestrian visible within a block's distance +on either hand, nobody that he could see skulked in the areas of the +old-fashioned brownstone houses across the way. + +The neighbourhood was, indeed, quiet even for an upper West Side +residential quarter. A block over to the east Broadway was strident in the +flood of its nocturnal traffic; a like distance to the west Riverside Drive +hummed with pleasure cars taking advantage of the first bland night of that +belated spring. But here, now that the taxi had wheeled away, there was +never a car in sight, nor even a strolling brace of sidewalk lovers. + +The door opened, revealing the same footman. + +"Colonel Stanistreet? I will see, sir." + +Lanyard entered. + +"If you will be kind enough to be seated," the footman suggested, +indicating a small waiting room. "And what name shall I say?" + +It had been Lanyard's intention to have himself announced simply as the +author of that telegram from Edgartown. Obscure impulse made him change his +mind, some premonition so tenuous as to defy analysis. + +"Mr. Anthony Ember." + +"Thank you, sir." + +After a little the footman returned. + +"If you will come this way, sir...." + +He led toward the back of the house, introducing Lanyard to a spacious +apartment, a library uncommonly well furnished, rather more than +comfortably yet without a trace of ostentation in its complete luxury, a +warm room, a room intimately lived in, a room, in short, characteristically +British in atmosphere. + +Waist-high bookcases lined the walls, broken on the right by a cheerful +fireplace with a grate of glowing cannel coal, in front of it a great club +lounge upholstered, like all the chairs, in well-used leather. Opposite the +chimney-piece, a handsome thing in carved oak, a door was draped with a +curtain that swung with it. In the back of the room two long and wide +French windows stood open to the night, beyond them that garden whose +wall had attracted Lanyard's attention. There were a number of paintings, +portraits for the most part, heavily framed, with overhead picture-lights. +In the middle of the room was a table-desk, broad and long, supporting a +shaded reading lamp. On the far side of the table a young man sat writing, +with several dockets of papers arranged before him. + +As Lanyard entered, this one put down his pen, pushed back his chair, and +came round the table: a tallish, well-made young man, dressed a shade too +foppishly in spite of an unceremonious dinner coat, his manner assured, +amiable, unconstrained, perhaps a little over-tolerant. + +"Mr. Ember, I believe?" he said in a voice studiously musical. + +"Yes," Lanyard replied, vaguely annoyed with himself because of an +unreasoning resentment of this musical quality. "Mr. Blensop?" + +"I am Mr. Blensop," that one admitted gracefully. "And how may I have the +pleasure of being of service?" + +He waved a hand toward an easy chair beside the table, and resumed his own. +But Lanyard hesitated. + +"I wished to see Colonel Stanistreet." + +Mr. Blensop looked up with an indulgent smile. His face was round and +smooth but for a perfectly docile little moustache, his lips full and red, +his nose delicately chiselled; but his eyes, though large, were set cannily +close together. + +"Colonel Stanistreet is unfortunately not at home. I am his secretary." + +"Yes," said Lanyard, still standing. "In that case I'd be glad if you would +be good enough to make an appointment for me with Colonel Stanistreet." + +"I am afraid he will not be home till very late to-night, but--" + +"Then to-morrow?" + +Mr. Blensop smiled patiently. "Colonel Stanistreet is a very busy man," he +uttered melodiously. "If you could let me know something about the nature +of your business...." + +"It is the King's," said Lanyard bluntly. + +The secretary went so far as to betray well-bred surprise. "You are an +Englishman, Mr. Ember?" + +"Yes." + +And for all he knew to the contrary, so Lanyard was. + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet's secretary," the young man again suggested +hopefully. + +"That is precisely why I ask you to make an appointment for me with your +employer," Lanyard retorted politely. + +"You won't say what you wish to see him about?" + +A trace of asperity marred the music of those tones; Mr. Blensop further +indicated distaste of the innuendo inherent in Lanyard's use of the word +"employer" by delicately wrinkling his nose. + +"I am sorry," Lanyard replied sufficiently. + +The door behind him opened, and the footman intruded. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop...." + +"Yes, Walker?" + +The servant advanced to the table and proffered a visiting card on a tray. +Mr. Blensop took it, arched pencilled brows over it. + +"To see me, Walker?" + +"The gentleman asked for Colonel Stanistreet, sir." + +"H'm.... You may show him in when I ring." + +The footman retired. Mr. Blensop looked up brightly, bending the card with +nervous fingers. + +"You were saying your business was...?" + +"I was not," Lanyard replied with disarming good humour. "I'm afraid that +is something much too important and confidential to reveal even to Colonel +Stanistreet's secretary, if you don't mind my saying so." + +Mr. Blensop did mind, and betrayed vexation with an impatient little +gesture which caused the card to fly from his fingers and fall face +uppermost on the table. Almost instantly he recovered it, but not before +Lanyard had read the name it bore. + +"Of course not," said the secretary pleasantly, rising. "But you understand +my instructions are rigid ... I'm sorry." + +"You refuse me the appointment?" + +"Unless you can give me an inkling of your business--or perhaps bring a +letter of introduction." + +"I can do neither, Mr. Blensop," said Lanyard earnestly. "I have +information of the gravest moment to communicate to the head of the British +Secret Service in this country." + +The secretary looked startled. "What makes you think Colonel Stanistreet is +connected with the British Secret Service?" + +"I don't think so; I know it." + +After a moment of hesitation Mr. Blensop yielded graciously. "If you can +come back at nine to-morrow morning, Mr. Ember, I'll do my best to persuade +Colonel Stanistreet--" + +"I repeat, my business is of the most pressing nature. Can't you arrange +for me to see your employer to-night?" + +"It is utterly impossible." + +Lanyard accepted defeat with a bow. + +"To-morrow at nine, then," he said, turning toward the door by which he had +entered. + +"At nine," said Mr. Blensop, generous in triumph. "But do you mind going +out this way?" + +He moved toward the curtained door opposite the chimney-piece. Lanyard +paused, shrugged, and followed. Mr. Blensop opened the door, disclosing a +vista of Ninety-fifth Street. + +"Thank _you_, Mr. Ember. _Good_-night," he intoned. + +The door closed with the click of a spring latch. + +Lanyard stood alone in the street, looking swiftly this way and that, his +hand closing upon that little bunch of keys in his pocket, his humour +lawless. + +For the name inscribed on that card which Mr. Blensop had so carelessly +dropped was one to fill Lanyard with consuming anxiety for better +acquaintance with its present wearer. + +Written in pencil, with all the individual angularity of French +chirography, the name was André Duchemin. + + + + +XIII + +REINCARNATION + + +It took a little time and patience but, on his third essay, Lanyard found +a key which agreed with the lock. He permitted himself a sigh of relief; +Ninety-fifth Street was bare, the door set flush with the outside of the +wall afforded no concealment to the trespasser, while the direct light of a +street lamp at the corner made his lonely figure uncomfortably conspicuous. + +Apparently, however, he had not been observed. + +Gently pushing the door open, he slipped in, as gently closed it, then for +a full minute stood stirless, spying out the lay of the land. + +Fitting precisely his anticipations, the garden discovered a fine English +flavour; it was well-kept, modest, fragrant and, best of all, quite dark, +especially so in the shadow of the street wall. Only a glimmer of starlight +enabled him to pick out the course of a pebbled footpath. A border of deep +turf between this and the wall muffled his footsteps as he moved toward the +back of the house. + +The library windows, deeply recessed, opened on a low, broad stoop of +concrete, with a pergola effect above, and a few wicker pieces upon a grass +mat underfoot. + +Noiselessly Lanyard stepped across the low sill and paused in the cover of +heavy draperies, commanding a tolerably full view of the library if one +somewhat unsatisfactory, since the light within was by no means bright. +Still, this circumstance had its advantages for him; with his dark topcoat +buttoned to the throat and its collar turned up to hide his linen, he was +confident he would not be detected unless he gave his presence away by an +abrupt movement--something which the Lone Wolf never made. + +At the moment Mr. Blensop seemed to be engaged in the surprising occupation +of discoursing upon art to his caller. + +The latter occupied that chair which Lanyard had refused, on the far side +of the table. Thus placed, the lamplight masked more than revealed him, +throwing a dull glare into Lanyard's eyes. His man sat in a pose of earnest +attention, bending forward a trifle to follow the exposition of Mr. +Blensop, who stood beneath a portrait on the wall between the chimney-piece +and the windows, his attitude incurably graceful, a hand on the switch +controlling the picture-light. Apparently he had just finished speaking, +for he paused, looking toward his guest with a quiet and intimate smile as +he turned off the light. + +"And that's all there is to it," he declared, moving back to the table. + +"I see," said the other thoughtfully. + +Lanyard felt himself start almost uncontrollably: rage swept through him, +storming brain and body, like a black squall over a hill-bound lake. For +the moment he could neither see or hear clearly nor think coherently. + +For the voice of this latest incarnation of André Duchemin was the voice of +"Karl." + +When the tumult of his senses subsided he heard Blensop saying, "I'll +write it out for you," and saw him pick up a pad and pencil and jot down a +memorandum. + +"There you are," he added, ripping off the sheet and passing it across the +table. "Now you can't go wrong." + +"I precious seldom do," his caller commented drily. + +"I think--" Blensop began, and checked sharply as the man Walker came into +the room. + +"Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop--" + +There was an accent of impatience in those beautifully modulated tones: +"Well, what is it now?" + +"A lady to see you, sir." + +Blensop took the card from the proffered salver. "Never heard of her," he +announced brusquely at a glance. "She asked for Colonel Stanistreet or for +me?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, sir. But when I said he was not at home, she asked to +see his secretary." + +"Any idea what she wants?" + +"She didn't say, sir--but she seemed much distressed." + +"They always are. H'm.... Young and good-looking?" + +"Quite, sir." + +"Dessay I may as well see her," said Mr. Blensop wearily. "Show her in when +I ring." + +Walker shut himself out of the room. + +"It's just as well," Blensop added to his caller. "You understand, my clear +fellow--?" + +"Assuredly." The man got up; but Blensop contrived exasperatingly to keep +between him and the windows. "I'm to be back at midnight?" + +"Twelve sharp; you'll be sure to find him here then. Mind leaving by this +emergency exit?" + +"Not in the least." + +"Then _good_-night, my dear Monsieur Duchemin!" + +Was there a hint of irony in Blensop's employment of that style? Lanyard +half fancied there was, but did not linger to analyse the impression. +Already the secretary had opened the side door. + +In a bound Lanyard cleared the stoop, then ran back to the door in the +wall. But with all his quickness he was all too slow; already, as he +emerged to Ninety-fifth Street, his quarry was rounding the Avenue corner. + +Defiant of discretion, Lanyard gave chase at speed but, though he had not +thirty yards to cover, again was baffled by the swiftness with which "Karl" +got about. + +He had still some distance to go when the peace of the quarter was +shattered by a door that slammed like a pistol shot, and with roaring +motor and grinding gears a cab swung away from the curb in front of the +Stanistreet residence and tore off down the Avenue. + +Swearing petulantly in his disappointment, Lanyard pulled up on the corner. +The number on the license plate was plainly revealed as the vehicle showed +its back to the street lamp. But what good was that to him? He memorised +it mechanically, in mutinous appreciation of the fact that the taxi was +setting a pace with which he could not hope to compete afoot. + +The rumble of another motor-car caught his ear, and he looked round +eagerly. A second taxicab--undoubtedly that which had brought the young +woman now presumably closeted with Mr. Blensop--was moving up into the +place vacated by the first. + +In two strides Lanyard was at its side. + +"Follow that taxi!" he cried--"number seventy-six, three-eighty-five. Don't +lose sight of it, but don't pass it--don't let them know we're following!" + +"Engaged," the driver growled. + +"Hang your engagement! Here"--Lanyard pressed a golden eagle into the +fellow's palm--"there will be another of those if you do as I say!" + +"Le's go!" the driver agreed with resignation. + +If the cab was moving before Lanyard could hop in and shut the door, the +other had already established a killing lead; and though Lanyard's man +demonstrated characteristic contempt for municipal regulations governing +the speed of motor-driven vehicles, and racketed his own madly down the +Avenue, he was wholly helpless to do more than keep the tail-lamp of the +first in sight. + +More than once that dull red eye seemed sardonically to wink. + +Still, Lanyard did not think "Karl" knew he was pursued. His conveyance had +passed the corner before Lanyard emerged from the side street. There being +no reason that Lanyard knew of why the spy should believe himself under +suspicion, his haste seemed most probably due to natural desire to avoid +adventitious recognition, coupled with, no doubt, other urgent business. + +At Seventy-second Street the chase turned east, with Lanyard two blocks +behind, and for a few agonizing moments was altogether lost to him. But at +Broadway the tide of southbound traffic hindered it momentarily, and it +swung into that stream with its pursuer only a block astern. + +Thereafter through a ride of another mile and a half, the distance between +the two was augmented or abbreviated arbitrarily by the rules of the road. + +At one time less than two cab-lengths separated them; then a Ford, driven +Fordishly, wandered vaguely out of a crosstown street and hesitated in the +middle of the thoroughfare with precisely the air of a staring yokel on +a first visit to the city; and Lanyard's driver slammed on the emergency +brake barely in time to escape committing involuntary but justifiable +flivvercide. + +When he was able once more to throw the gears into high, the chase was a +long block ahead. + +They were entering Longacre Square before he made up that loss. + +And at Forty-fourth Street, again, a stream of east-bound cars edged in +between the two, reducing Lanyard's driver to the verge of gibbering +lunacy. + +A car resembling "Karl's" was crossing Broadway at Forty-second Street when +Lanyard was still on Seventh Avenue north of the Times Building. + +But only a minute later his driver pulled up in front of the Hotel +Knickerbocker, and Lanyard, peering through the forward window, saw the +number 76-385 on the license plate of a taxicab drawing away, empty, from +the curb beneath the hotel canopy. + +He tossed the second gold piece to the driver as his feet touched the +sidewalk, and shouldered through a cluster of men and women at the main +entrance to the lobby. + +That rendezvous of Broadway was fairly thronged despite the slack +mid-evening hour, between the dinner and the supper crushes; but Lanyard +reviewed in vain the little knots of guests and loungers; if "Karl" were +among them, he was nobody whom Lanyard had learned to know by sight on +board the _Assyrian_. + +With as little success he searched unobtrusively all public rooms on the +main floor. + +It was, of course, both possible and probable that "Karl," himself a guest +of the hotel, had crossed directly to the elevators and been whisked aloft +to his room. + +With this in mind, Lanyard paused at the desk, asked permission to examine +the register and, being accommodated, was somewhat consoled; if his chase +had failed of its immediate objective, it now proved not altogether +fruitless. A majority of the _Assyrian_ survivors seemed to have elected to +stop at the Knickerbocker. One after another Lanyard, scanning the entries, +found these names: + + Edmund O'Reilly--Detroit + Arturo Velasco--Buenos Aires + Bartlett Putnam--Philadelphia + Cecelia Brooke--London + Emil Dressier--Genčve + +Half inclined to commit the imprudence of sending a name up to Miss +Brooke--any name but André Duchemin, Michael Lanyard, or Anthony +Ember--together with a message artfully worded to fix her interest without +giving comfort to the enemy, should it chance to go astray, the adventurer +hesitated by the desk; and of a sudden was satisfied that such a move would +be not only injudicious but waste of time; for, now that he paused to think +of it, he surmised that the young woman--"young and good-looking", on +Walker's word--who had called to see Colonel Stanistreet was none other +than this same Cecelia Brooke. + +What more natural than that she should make early occasion to consult the +head of the British Secret Service in America? + +A pity he had not waited there in the window! If he had, no doubt the +mystery with which the girl had surrounded herself would be no more mystery +to Lanyard; he would have learned the secret of that paper cylinder as well +as the part the girl had played in the intrigue for its possession, and so +be the better advised as to his own future conduct. + +But in his insensate passion for revenge upon one who had all but murdered +him, he had forgotten all else but the moment's specious opportunity. + +With a grunt of impatience Lanyard turned away from the desk, and came face +to face with Crane. + +The Secret Service man was coming from the direction of the bar in company +with Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier. + +Of the three last named but one looked Lanyard's way, O'Reilly, and his +gaze, resting transiently on the countenance of André Duchemin minus the +Duchemin beard, passed on without perceptible glimmer of recognition. + +Why not? Why should it enter his head that one lived and had anticipated +his own arrival in New York by twenty hours whom be believed to be buried +many fathoms deep off Nantucket? + +As for Crane, his cool gray, humorous eyes, half-hooded with their heavy +lids, favoured Lanyard with casual regard and never a tremor of interest +or surprise; but as he passed his right eye closed deliberately and with a +significance not to be ignored. + +To this Lanyard responded only with a look of blankest amaze. + +Chatting with an air of subdued self-congratulation pardonable in such +as have come safe to land through many dangers of the deep, the quartet +strolled round the desk and boarded one of the elevators. + +Not till its gate had closed did Lanyard stir. Then he went away from there +with all haste and cunning at his command. + +The route through the café to Broadway offered the speediest and least +conspicuous of exits. From the side door of the hotel he plunged directly +into the mouth of the Subway kiosk and, chance favouring him, managed to +purchase a ticket and board a southbound local train an instant before its +doors ground shut. + +Believing Crane would take the next elevator down, once he had seen the +others safely in their rooms, Lanyard was content to let him find the lobby +destitute of ghosts, to let him fume and wonder and think himself perhaps +mistaken. + +The last thing he desired was entanglement with the American Secret +Service. For Crane he entertained personal respect and temperate liking, +thought the man socially an amusing creature, professionally a deadly peril +to one who had a feud to pursue. + +Leaving the train at Grand Central, the adventurer passed through the back +ways of the Terminus, into the Hotel Biltmore, upstairs to its lobby, +thence out by the Vanderbilt Avenue entrance, walking through Forty-fourth +Street to Fifth Avenue, where he chartered a taxicab, gave the address +of his lodgings, and lay back in the corner of its seat satisfied he had +successfully eluded pursuit and very, very grateful to the Subway system +for the facilities it afforded fugitives like himself through its warren of +underground passages. + +One thing troubled him, however, without respite: the Brooke girl was on +his conscience. To her he owed an accounting of his stewardship of that +trust which she had reposed in him. It was intolerable in his understanding +that she should be permitted to go one unnecessary hour in ignorance of the +truth about that business--the truth, that is, as far as he himself knew +it. + +If through Crane or in some unforseeable fashion she were to learn that +André Duchemin lived, she would think him faithless. If she knew that +Duchemin had been one with Michael Lanyard, the Lone Wolf, she would not be +surprised. But that, too, was intolerable; even the Lone Wolf had his code +of honour. + +Again, if she remained in ignorance of the fact that Lanyard had escaped +drowning, she would continue to believe her secret at the bottom of the sea +with him; whereas, in the hands of the enemy, in the possession of "Karl" +and his, confederates, it was potentially Heaven only knew how dangerous a +weapon. + +Abruptly Lanyard reflected that at least one doubt had been eliminated by +that encounter in the Knickerbocker. It was barely possible that "Karl" had +gone to the bar on entering and added himself to Crane's party, but it +was hardly creditable in Lanyard's consideration. He was convinced that, +whether or not Velasco, O'Reilly, and Dressier were parties to the Hun +conspiracy, none of these was "Karl." + +As for the Brooke matter, he felt it incumbent upon him immediately to find +some safe means of communicating with the girl. She could be trusted not to +betray him to the police, however much she might at first incline to doubt +him. But he would persuade her of his sincerity, never fear! + +The telephone offered one solution of his difficulty, an agency +non-committal enough, provided one were at pains not to call from one's +private station, to which the call might be traced back. + +With this in mind he stopped and dismissed his taxicab at Fifty-seventh +Street and Sixth Avenue, and availed himself of a coin-box telephone booth +in the corner druggist's. + +The experience that followed was nothing out of the ordinary. Lanyard, +connected with the Knickerbocker promptly, with the customary expenditure +of patience laboriously spelled out the name B-r-double-o-k-e, and was told +to hold the wire. + +Several minutes later he began to agitate the receiver hook and was +eventually rewarded with the advice that the Knickerbocker operator, being +informed his party was in the rest'runt, was having her paged. + +Still later the central operator told him his five minutes was up and +consented to continue the connection only on deposit of an additional +nickel. + +Eventually, in sequel to more abuse of the hook, he received this response +from the Knickerbocker switchboard: "Wait a min'te, can't you? Here's your +party." + +Lanyard was surprised at the eagerness with which he cried: "Hello!" + +A click answered, and a bland voice which was not the voice he had expected +to hear: "Hello? That you, Jack?" + +He said wearily: "I am waiting to speak with Miss Cecelia Brooke." + +"Oh, then there _must_ be some mistake. This is Miss _Crooke_ speaking." + +Lanyard uttered a strangled "Sorry!" and hung up, abandoning further effort +as hopeless. + +That matter would have to stand over till morning. + +Time now pressed: it was nearly eleven; he had a rendezvous with Destiny to +keep at midnight, and meant to be more than punctual. + +Walking to his apartment house, he proceeded to establish an alibi by +entering through the public hallway and registering with the telephone +attendant a call for seven o'clock the next morning. + +In the course of the next half hour Lanyard let himself quietly out of the +private door, slipped around the block and boarded a Riverside Drive bus. + +Alighting at Ninety-third Street, he walked two blocks north on the Drive, +turned east, and without misadventure admitted himself a second time to the +Stanistreet garden. + + + + +XIV + +DEFAMATION + + +It was hardly possible to watch Mr. Blensop functioning in his vocational +capacity without reflecting on that cruel injustice which Nature only too +often practises upon her offspring in secreting most praiseworthy qualities +within fleshy envelopes of hopelessly frivolous cast. + +The flowing gestures of this young man, his fluting accents, poetic eyes, +and modestly ingratiating moustache, the preciosity of his taste in dress, +assorted singularly with an austere devotion to duty rare if unaffected. + +Beyond question, whether or not naturally a man of studious and +conscientious temper, Mr. Blensop figured to admiration in the role of such +an one. + +Seated, the shaded lamplight an aureole for his fair young head, he wrought +industriously with a beautiful gold-mounted fountain pen for fully five +minutes after Lanyard had stolen into the draped recess of the French +window, pausing only now and again to take a fresh sheet of paper or +consult one of the sheaves of documents that lay before him. + +At length, however, he hesitated with pen lifted and abstracted gaze +focussed upon vacancy, shook a bewildered head, and rose, moving directly +toward the windows. + +For as long as thirty breathless seconds Lanyard remained in doubt; there +was the barest chance that in his preoccupation Blensop might pass through +to the garden without noticing that dark figure flattened against the +inswung half of the window, in the dense shadow of the portičre. Otherwise +the game was altogether up; Lanyard could see no way to avoid the necessity +of staggering Blensop with a blow, racing for freedom, abandoning utterly +further effort to learn the motive of "Karl's" impersonation of Duchemin. + +He gathered himself together, waited poised in readiness for any +eventuality--and blessed his lucky stars to find his apprehensions idle. + +Three paces from the windows, Mr. Blensop made it plain that he was after +all not minded to stroll in the garden. Pausing, he swung a high-backed +wing chair round to face the corner of the room, switched on a reading +lamp, sat down and selected a volume of some work of reference from the +well-stocked book shelves. + +For several minutes, seated within arm's length of the trespasser, he +studied intently, then with a cluck of satisfaction replaced the volume, +extinguished the light, and went back to his writing. + +But presently he checked with a vexed little exclamation, shook his pen +impatiently, and fixed it with a frown of pained reproach. + +But that did no good. The cussedness of the inanimate was strong in this +pen: since its reservoir was quite empty it mulishly refused more service +without refilling. + +With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Blensop found a filler in one of the desk +drawers, and unscrewed the nib of the pen. + +This accomplished, he paused, listened for a moment with head cocked +intelligently to one side, dropped the dismembered implement, and got up +alertly. At the same moment the door to the hallway opened, and two women +entered, apparently sisters: one a lady of mature and distinguished charm, +the other an equally prepossessing creature much her junior, the one +strongly animated with intelligent interest in life, the other a listless +prey to habitual ennui. + +To these fluttered Mr. Blensop, offering to relieve them of their wraps. + +"Permit me, Mrs. Arden," he addressed the elder woman, who tolerated him +dispassionately. "And Mrs. Stanistreet ... I say, aren't you a bit late?" + +"Frightfully," assented Mrs. Stanistreet in a weary voice. "It must be all +of midnight." + +"Hardly that, Adele," said Mrs. Arden with a humorous glance. + +"Dinner, the play, supper, and home before twelve!" commented Blensop, +shocked. "I say, that is going some, you know." + +"George would insist on hurrying home," the young wife complained. +"Frightfully tiresome. We were so comfy at the Ritz, too...." + +"The Crystal Room?" Dissembled envy poisoned Blensop's accents. + +"Frightfully interestin'--everybody was there. I did so want to +dance--missed you, Arthur." + +"I say, you didn't, did you, really?" + +"Poor Mr. Blensop!" Mrs. Arden interjected with just a hint of malice. +"What a pity you must be chained down by inexorable duty, while we fly +round and amuse ourselves." + +"I must not complain," Blensop stated with humility becoming in a dutiful +martyr, a pose which he saw fit quickly to discard as another man came +briskly into the room. "Ah, good evening, Colonel Stanistreet." + +"Evening, Blensop." + +With a brusque nod, Colonel Stanistreet went straightway to the desk, +stopping there to take up and examine the work upon which his secretary had +been engaged: a gentleman considerably older than his wife, of grave and +sturdy cast, with the habit of standing solidly on his feet and giving +undivided attention to the matter in hand. + +"Anything of consequence turned up?" he enquired abstractedly, running +through the sheets of pen-blackened paper. + +"Three persons called," Blensop admitted discreetly. "One returns at +midnight." + +Stanistreet threw him a keen look. "Eh!" he said, making swift inference, +and turned to his wife and sister-in-law. "It is nearly twelve now. Forgive +me if I hurry you off." + +"Patience," said Mrs. Arden indulgently. "Not for worlds would I hinder +your weighty affairs, dear old thing, but I sleep more sound o' nights when +I know my trinkets are locked up securely in your safe." + +With a graceful gesture she unfastened a magnificent necklace and deposited +it on the desk. + +"Frightful rot," her sister commented from the doorway. "As if anybody +would dare break in here." + +"Why not?" Mrs. Arden enquired calmly, stripping her fingers of their +rings. + +"With a watchman patrolling the grounds all night--" + +"Letty is sensible," Stanistreet interrupted. "Howson's faithful enough, +and these American police dependable, but second-storey men happen in the +best-guarded neighbourhoods. Be advised, Adele: leave your things here with +Letty's." + +"No fear," his wife returned coolly. "Too frightfully weird...." + +She drifted across the threshold, then hesitated, a pretty figure of +disdainful discontent. + +"But really, Colonel Stanistreet is right," Blensop interposed vivaciously. +"What do you imagine I heard to-night? The Lone Wolf is in America!" + +"What is that you say?" Mrs. Arden demanded sharply. + +"The Lone Wolf ... Fact. Have it on most excellent authority." + +"The Lone Wolf!" Mrs. Stanistreet drawled. "If you ask me, I think the Lone +Wolf nothing in the world but a scapegoat for police stupidity." + +"You wouldn't say that," Mrs. Arden retorted, "if you had lived in Paris as +long as I. There, in the dear old days, we paid that rogue too heavy a tax +not to believe in him." + +"Frightful nonsense," insisted the other. "I'm off. 'Night, Arthur. Shall +you be long, George?" + +"Oh, half an hour or so," her husband responded absently as she +disappeared. + +With a little gesture consigning her jewellery, heaped upon the desk, to +the care of her brother-in-law, Mrs. Arden uttered good-nights and followed +her sister. + +Blensop bowed her out respectfully, shut the door and returned to the desk. + +"What's this about the Lone Wolf?" Stanistreet enquired, sitting down to +con the papers more intently. + +"Oh!" Blensop laughed lightly. "I was merely repeating the blighter's own +assertion. I mean to say, he boasted he was the Lone Wolf." + +"Who boasted he was the Lone Wolf?" + +"Chap who called to-night, giving the name of Duchemin--André Duchemin. Had +French passports, and letters from the Home Office recommending him rather +highly. Useful creature, one would fancy, with his knowledge of the right +way to go about the wrong thing. What? Ought to be especially helpful to us +in hunting down the Hun over here." + +"Is this the man who returns at midnight?" + +"Yes, sir. I thought it best to make the appointment." + +"Why?" + +"He said he had crossed on the _Assyrian_, said it significantly, you know. +I fancied he might be the person you have been expecting." + +Stanistreet looked up with a frown. "Hardly," he said--"if, that is, he is +really what he claims to be. I wonder how he came by those letters." + +"Does seem odd, doesn't it, sir? A confessed criminal!" + +"An extraordinary man, by all accounts.... Those other callers--?" + +"Nobody of importance, I should say. A man who gave his name as Ember and +got a bit shirty when I asked his business. Told him you might consent to +see him at nine in the morning." + +"And the other?" + +"A young woman--deuced pretty girl--also reticent. What was her name? +Brooke--that was it: Cecelia Brooke." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet exclaimed, dropping the papers. "What did you say +to her?" + +"What could I say, sir? She refused to divulge a word about her business +with us. I told her--" + +Warned by a gesture from Colonel Stanistreet, Blensop broke off. Walker was +opening the door. + +"Well, Walker?" + +"A Mr. Duchemin, sir, says Mr. Blensop made an appointment with you for +twelve to-night." + +"Show him in, please." + +The footman shut himself out. Blensop clutched nervously at Mrs. Arden's +jewels. + +"Hadn't I better put these in the safe first?" + +"No--no time." Stanistreet opened a drawer of the desk--"Here!"--and closed +it as Blensop hastily swept the jewellery into it. "Safe enough there--as +long as he doesn't know, at all events. But don't forget to put them away +after he goes." + +"No, sir." + +Again the door opened. Walker announced: "Mr. Duchemin." Stanistreet rose +in his place. A man strode in with the assurance of one who has discounted +a cordial welcome. + +Through the gap which he had quietly created between the portičre and the +side of the window, Lanyard stared hungrily, and for the second time that +night damned heartily the inadequate light in the library. + +The impostor's face, barely distinguishable in the up-thrown penumbra +of the lampshade, wore a beard--a rather thick, dark beard of negligent +abundance, after a mode popular among Frenchmen--above which his features +were an indefinite blur. + +Lanyard endeavoured with ill success to identify the fellow by his +carriage; there was a perceptible suggestion of a military strut, but that +is something hardly to be termed distinctive in these days. Otherwise, he +was tall, quite as tall as Lanyard, and had much the same character of +body, slender and lithe. + +But he was "Karl" beyond question, confederate and murderer of Baron von +Harden, the man who had thrown the light bomb to signal the U-boat, +the brute with whom Lanyard had struggled on the boat deck of the +_Assyrian_--though the latter, in the confusion of that struggle, had +thought the German's beard a masking handkerchief of black silk. + +Now by that same token he was no member of that smoking-room coterie upon +which Lanyard's suspicions had centered. + +On the other hand, any number of passengers had worn beards, not a few of +much the same mode as that sported by this nonchalant fraud. + +Vainly Lanyard cudgelled his wits to aid a laggard memory, haunted by a +feeling that he ought to know this man instantly, even in so poor a light. +Something in his habit, something in that insouciance which so narrowly +escaped insolence, was at once strongly reminiscent and provokingly +elusive.... + +Pausing a little ways within the room, the fellow clicked heels and bowed +punctiliously in Continental fashion, from the hips. + +"Colonel Stanistreet, I believe," he said in a sonorous voice--"Karl's" +unmistakable voice--"chief of the American bureau of the British Secret +Service?" + +"I am Colonel Stanistreet," that gentleman admitted. "And you, sir--?" + +"I have adopted the name of André Duchemin," the impostor stated. "With +permission I retain it." + +Colonel Stanistreet inclined his head slightly. "As you will. Pray be +seated." + +He dropped back into his chair, while "Karl" with a murmur of +acknowledgment again took the armchair on the far side of the desk, where +the lamp stood between him and the secret watcher. + +"My secretary tells me you have letters of introduction...." + +"Here." Calmly "Karl" produced and offered those purloined papers. + +"You will smoke?" Stanistreet indicated a cigarette-box and leaned back to +glance through the letters. + +During a brief pause Blensop busied himself with collecting together the +documents which had occupied him and began reassorting them, while "Karl," +helping himself to a cigarette, smoked with manifest enjoyment. + +"These seem to be in order," Stanistreet observed. "I note from this code +letter that your true name is Michael Lanyard, you were once a professional +French thief known as 'The Lone Wolf', but have since displayed every +indication of desire to reform your ways, and have been of considerable +use to the Intelligence Office. I am desired to employ your services in my +discretion, contingent--pardon me--upon your continued good behaviour." + +"Precisely," assented "Karl." + +"Proceed, Monsieur Duchemin." + +"It is an affair of some delicacy.... Do we speak alone, Colonel +Stanistreet?" + +"Mr. Blensop is my confidential secretary...." + +"Oh, no objection. Still--if I may venture the suggestion--those windows +open upon a garden, I take it?" + +"Yes. Blensop, be good enough to close the windows." + +"Certainly, sir." + +Stepping delicately, Blensop moved toward the end of the room. + +Again Lanyard was confronted with the alternatives of incontinent flight or +attempting to remain undetected through the adoption of an expedient of the +most desperate audacity. He had prepared against such contingency, he did +not mean to go; but the feasibility of his contemplated manoeuvre depended +entirely upon chance, its success in any event was forlornly problematic. + +"Karl" remained hidden from him by the lamp, so he from "Karl." Colonel +Stanistreet, facing his caller, sat half turned away from the windows. +Everything rested with Blensop's choice, which of the two windows he would +elect first to close. + +A right-handed man, he turned, as Lanyard had foreseen, to the right, and +momentarily disappeared in the recess of the farther window. + +In the same instant Lanyard slipped noiselessly from behind the portičre, +and dropped into that capacious wing chair which Blensop had thoughtfully +placed for him some time since. + +Thus seated, making himself as small and still as possible, he was wholly +concealed from all other occupants of the library but Blensop; and even +this last was little likely to discover him. + +He did not. He closed and latched the farther window, then that wherein +Lanyard had lurked, and ambled back into the room with never a glance +toward that shadowed corner which held the wing chair. + +And Lanyard drew a deep breath, if a quiet one. Behind him the conversation +had continued without break. It was true, he could see nothing; but he +could hear all that was said, he had missed no syllable, and now every +second was informing him to his profit.... + +"Your secretary, no doubt, has told you I am a survivor of the _Assyrian_ +disaster." + +"Yes...." + +"You were, I believe, expecting a certain communication of extraordinary +character by the _Assyrian_, to be brought, that is, by an agent of the +British Secret Service." + +After an almost imperceptible pause Stanistreet said evenly: "It is +possible." + +"A communication, in fact, of such character that it was impossible to +entrust it to the mails or to cable transmission, even in code." + +"And if so, sir...?" + +"And you are aware that, of the two gentlemen entrusted with the care of +this document, one was drowned when the _Assyrian_ went down, and the other +so seriously injured that he has not yet recovered consciousness, but +was transferred directly from the pier to a hospital when the _Saratoga_ +docked." + +"What then, Monsieur Duchemin?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet," said the impostor deliberately, "I have that +communication. I will ask you not to question me too closely as to how it +came into my possession. I have it: that is sufficient." + +"If you possess any document which you conceive to be so valuable to the +British Government, monsieur, and consequently to the Allied cause, I have +every confidence in your intention to deliver it to me without delay." + +A note of mild derision crept into the accents of "Karl." + +"I have every intention of so doing, my dear sir.... But you must +appreciate I have incurred considerable personal danger, hardship, and +inconvenience in taking good care of this document, in seeing that it did +not fall into the wrong hands; in short, in bringing it safely here to you +to-night." + +A slightly longer pause prefaced Stanistreet's reply, something which +he delivered in measured tones: "I am able to promise you the British +Government will show due appreciation of your disinterested services, +Monsieur--Duchemin." + +"Not disinterested--not that!" the cheat protested. "Gentlemen of my +kidney, sir, seldom put themselves out except in lively anticipation of +favours to come." + +"Be good enough to make yourself more clear." + +"Cheerfully. I possess this document. I understand its character is such +that Germany would pay a round price for it. But I am a good patriot. In +spite of the fact that nobody knew I possessed it, in spite of the fact +that I need only have quietly taken it to Seventy-ninth Street to-night--" + +"Monsieur Duchemin!" Stanistreet's voice was icy. "Your price?" + +"Sorry you feel that way about it," said "Karl" with ill-concealed +insincerity. "You must know thieving is no more what it once was. Even I, +too, often am put to it to make both ends--" + +"If you please, sir--how much?" + +"Ten thousand dollars." + +Silence greeted this demand, a lull that to Lanyard seemed endless. For in +his fury he was trembling so that he feared lest his agitation betray him. +The very walls before his eyes seemed to quake in sympathy. He was aware of +the ache of swollen veins in his temples, his teeth hurt with the pressure +put upon them, his breath came heavily, and his nails were digging +painfully into his palms. + +"Blensop?" + +"Sir?" + +"How much have we on hand, in the emergency fund?" + +"Between ten and twelve thousand dollars, sir." + +"Intuition, monsieur, is an indispensable item in the equipment of a +successful _chevalier d'Industrie_. So, at least, the good novelists tell +us...." + +"Open the safe, Blensop, and fetch me ten thousand dollars." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I presume you won't object to satisfying me that you really have this +document, before I pay you your price." + +"It is this which makes it a pleasure to deal with an Englishman, monsieur: +one may safely trust his word of honour." + +"Indeed...." + +"Permit me: here is the document. Use that magnifying glass I see by your +elbow, monsieur; take your time, satisfy yourself." + +"Thanks; I mean to." + +Another break in the dialogue, during which the eavesdropper heard an +odd sound, a sort of muffled swishing ending in a slight thud, then the +peculiar metallic whine of a combination dial rapidly manipulated, finally +the dull clank of bolts falling back into their sockets. + +"Your _coffre-fort_--what do you say?--strong-box--safe--is cleverly +concealed, Colonel Stanistreet." + +There was no direct reply, but after a moment Stanistreet announced +quietly: "This seems to be an authentic paper.... Monsieur Duchemin, what +knowledge precisely have you of the nature of this document?" + +"Surely monsieur cannot have overlooked the circumstance that its seals +were intact." + +"True," Stanistreet admitted. "Still...." + +"I trust Monsieur does not question my good faith?" + +"Why not?" Stanistreet enquired drily. + +"Monsieur!" + +"Oh, damn your play-acting, sir! If you can be capable of one infamy, you +are capable of more. None the less, you are right about an Englishman's +word: here is your money. Count it and--get out!" + +"Thanks"--the impostor's tone was an impertinently exact imitation of +Stanistreet's--"I mean to." + +"Permit me to excuse myself," Stanistreet added; and Lanyard heard the +muffled scrape of chair-legs on the rug as the Englishman got up. + +"Gladly," the spy returned--"and ten thousand thanks, monsieur!" + +The secretary intoned melodiously: "This way, Monsieur Duchemin, if you +please." + +"Pardon. Is it material which way I leave?" + +"What do you mean?" Stanistreet demanded. + +"I should be far easier in my mind if monsieur would permit me to go by way +of his garden, rather than run the risk of his front door." + +"What's this?" + +"In these little affairs, monsieur, I try to make it a rule to avoid +covering the same ground twice." + +"You have the insolence to imply I would lend myself to treachery!" + +"I beg monsieur's pardon very truly for suggesting such a thing. +Nevertheless, one cannot well be overcautious when one is a hunted man." + +"Blensop ... be good enough to see this man out through the garden." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Again, monsieur, my thanks." + +"Good-night," said Stanistreet curtly. + +Blensop passed Lanyard's chair, unlatched and opened the window and stood +aside. An instant later "Karl" joined him, swung on a heel, facing back, +clicked heels again and bowed mockingly. Apparently he got no response, for +he laughed quietly, then turned and went out through the window, Blensop +mincing after. + +With a struggle Lanyard mastered the temptation to dash after the spy, +overtake and overpower him, expose and give him up to justice. Only the +knowledge that by remaining quiescent, by biding his time, he might be +enabled to redeem his word to the Brooke girl, gave him strength to be +still. + +But he suffered exquisitely, maddened by the defamation imposed upon his +nick-name of a thief by this brazen impostor. + +Nor was wounded _amour-propre_ mended by an exclamation in the room behind +his chair, the accents of Colonel Stanistreet thick with contempt: + +"The Lone Wolf! Faugh!" + + + + +XV + +RECOGNITION + + +Presently Blensop came back, closed the window, and passed blindly by +Lanyard, his reappearance saluted by Stanistreet in tones that shook with +contained temper. + +"You saw that animal outside the walls?" + +Mildly injured surprise was indicated in the reply: "Surely, sir!" + +"And locked the door after him?" + +"Yes, sir--securely." + +"Howson anywhere about?" + +"I didn't see him. Daresay he's prowling somewhere within call. Do you wish +to speak to him?" + +"No.... But you might, if you see anything of him, tell him to keep an +extra eye open to-night. I don't trust this self-styled Lone Wolf." + +"Naturally not, sir, under the circumstances." + +Stanistreet acknowledged this with an irritated snort. "No matter," he +thought aloud; "if it has cost us a pretty penny, we have got this safe in +hand at last. I've not had too much sleep, I can promise you, since the +report came through of Bartholomew's death and Thackeray's disablement. +Nor am I satisfied that this Monsieur Duchemin came by the document +fairly--confound his impudence! If he hadn't put me on honour, tacitly, I'd +not hesitate an instant about informing the police." + +"Rather chancy course to take in this business, what?" + +"I don't know.... That Yankee invention known as the 'frame-up' would +easily make America too small for the Lone Wolf without the British Secret +Service ever being mentioned in the matter." + +"Yes; but suppose the beast knows the contents of this paper, suspects +the authorship of the 'frame-up'--as he instinctively would--and blabs? +Messages have been unsealed and copied and resealed before this." + +"That one consideration ties my hands.... Here, my boy: take this and +put it in the safe--and don't forget Mrs. Arden's things, of course. +Good-night." + +"Trust me, sir. Good-night." + +A door closed with a slight jar, and for half a minute the room was so +positively quiet that Lanyard was beginning to wonder if Blensop himself +had gone out with his employer, when he heard a low and musical chuckle, +followed by a soft clashing as the secretary scooped Mrs. Arden's jewellery +out of the desk drawer. + +Itching with curiosity, Lanyard turned with infinite care and peered round +the wing of the chair, thus gaining a view of the wall farthest from the +street. + +Blensop remaining invisible, Lanyard's interest centred immediately upon +the safe the ingenuity of whose concealment had excited "Karl's" favourable +comment, and with much excuse. + +One of the portraits--that upon whose merits Blensop had descanted to +"Karl" earlier in the night--was, Lanyard saw, so mounted upon a solid +panel of wood that, by means of hidden mechanism, it could be moved +sidelong from its frame, uncovering the face of a safe built into the wall. + +This last now stood open, its door, swung out toward Lanyard, showing +a simple arrangement of dials and locks with which he was on terms of +contemptuous familiarity; only the veriest tyro of a cracksman would want +more than a good ear and a subtle sense of touch in order to open it +without knowledge of the combination. + +With all its reputation for efficiency and astuteness the British Secret +Service entrusted its mysteries to an antiquated contraption such as this! + +Humming a blithe little air, Blensop moved into Lanyard's field of vision +and stopped between him and the safe, deftly pigeonholing therein the +docketed papers and Mrs. Arden's jewels. Then, closing the door, he shot +its bolts, gave the dial a brisk twirl, located a lever in the side of the +frame and thrust it into its socket. + +With the same swish and thud which had puzzled Lanyard at first hearing, +the portrait slipped back into place. + +Rounding on a heel, Blensop paused, head to one side, a slight frown +shadowing his bland countenance, and stood briefly rooted in some +perplexity of obscure origin. Twice he shook a peevish head, then smiled +radiantly and brought his hands together in an audible clap. + +"I have it!" he cried in delight and, dancing briskly toward the desk, once +more disappeared. + +Now what was this which Mr. Blensop so spontaneously had, and from the +having of which he derived so much apparently innocent enjoyment? Wanting +an answer, Lanyard settled back in disgust, then sat sharply forward, gaze +riveted to the near sash of the adjacent window. + +In showing "Karl" out, Blensop had moved the portičres, exposing more +glass than previously had been visible. Now this mirrored darkly to the +adventurer a somewhat distorted vision of Blensop standing over the +desk, seemingly employed in no more amusing occupation than filling his +fountain-pen. But undoubtedly he was in the highest spirits; for the lilt +of his humming rose sweet and clear and ever louder. + +To this accompaniment he pocketed his pen, two-stepped to the windows, +drew the portičres jealously close, returned to the desk, switched off the +reading lamp, and left the room completely dark but for a dim glow from the +ash-filmed embers of the fire. + +But before he went out the secretary interrupted his humming to laugh +with a mischievous élan which completely confounded Lanyard. He was not +unacquainted with the Blensop type, but the secret glee which seemed to +animate this specimen was something far beyond his comprehension. + +As the door softly closed Lanyard moved silently across the room and bent +an ear to its panels, meanwhile drawing over his hands a pair of thin white +kid gloves. + +From beyond came no sound other than a faint creaking of stair-treads +quickly silenced. + +Opening the door, Lanyard peered out, finding the hallway deserted and +dimly lighted by a single bulb of little candle-power at its far end, then +scouted out as far as the foot of the stairs, listened there for a little, +hearing no sounds above, and reconnoitred through the other living rooms, +at length returning to the library persuaded he was alone on the ground +floor of the house. + +A Yale lock was fixed to the library side of the door. Lanyard released its +catch, insuring freedom from interruption on the part of anybody who lacked +the key, crossed to the other side door, left this on the latch and, having +thus provided an avenue for escape, turned attention to business, in brief, +to the safe. + +Turning on the picture-light he found and operated the lever, with his +other hand so restraining the action of the panel that it moved aside +without perceptible jar. + +Then with an ear to that smooth, cold face of enamelled steel, he began +to manipulate the combination. From within the door a succession of soft +clicks and knocks punctuated the muted whine of the dial, speaking +a language only too intelligible to the trained hearing of a thief; +synchronous breaks and resistance in the action of the dial conveyed +additional information through the medium of supersensitive finger tips. +Within two minutes he had learned all he needed to know, and standing back +twirled the knob right and left with a confident hand. At its fourth stop +he heard the dull bump of released tumblers, grasped the handle, and +twisted it strongly. The door swung open. + +Systematically Lanyard searched the pigeonholes, emptying all but one, +examining minutely their contents without finding that slender roll of +paper. + +Mystified, he hesitated. The thing, of course, was somewhere there, only +hidden more cunningly than he had hoped. It was possible, even probable, +that Blensop had stowed the cylinder away in a secret compartment. + +But the interior arrangement was disconcertingly simple. Lanyard saw no +sign of waste space in which such a drawer might be secreted. Unless, to be +sure, one of the pigeonholes had a false back.... + +He began a fresh examination, again emptying each pigeonhole and sounding +its rear wall without result till there remained only that in which Blensop +had placed the Arden jewels. + +It was necessary to move these, but Lanyard long withheld his hand, +reluctant to touch them, for that same reason which had influenced him to +avoid them in his first search. + +Jewels such as these he both worshipped and desired with the passionate +adoration of connoisseur and lover in one. He feared violently the +temptation of physical contact with such stuff. + +For his was no thief's errand to-night, but a matter, as he conceived +it, of his private honour, something apart and distinct from the code of +rogue's ethics which guided his professional activities. He had pledged +his word to Cecelia Brooke to keep safe for her that cylinder of paper, to +return it upon her demand for whatsoever disposition she might choose to +make of it. It was no concern of his what that choice might turn out to +be, any more than it was his affair if the document were a paper of +international importance. But she must and should, if act of his could +compass it, be given opportunity to redeem her word of honour if, as one +believed, that likewise were involved in the fate of the document. + +He had stolen into this house like a thief because he had given his pledge +and perforce had been made false to that pledge, because he had been +despoiled of the concrete evidence of the trust reposed unasked in him, and +because he had learned that his spoiler was to meet Stanistreet in this +room at midnight. + +He was here solely to make good his word, to take away that cylinder, could +he find it, and to return it to the girl ... not to thieve.... + +Never that!... + +Slowly, reluctantly, inevitably he put forth his hand and selected from +among those brilliant symbols of his soul's profound damnation the +necklace, a rope of diamonds consummately matched, a rivulet of frozen +fire, no single stone less lovely than another. + +"Admirable!" he whispered. "Oh, admirable!" + +Hesitant to do this thing which to him, by the strange standard of his +warped code, spelled dishonour, he would and he would not; and while he +paltered, was visited by an oddly vivid memory of the clear and candid eyes +of Cecelia Brooke, seemed veritably to see them searching his own with +their look of grieving wonder ... the eyes of one woman who had reckoned +him worthy of her trust.... + +Almost he won victory in this fight he was foredoomed to lose. Under the +level and steadfast regard of those eyes his hand went out to replace the +necklace, moved unsteadily, faltered.... + +Beyond the windows an incautious footfall sounded. In the darkness out +there someone blundered into a piece of wicker furniture and disturbed it +with a small scraping sound, all but inaudible, but to the thief as loud as +the blast of a police whistle. + +Instantly and instinctively, in two simultaneous gestures, Lanyard dropped +the necklace into an inner pocket of his coat and switched off the +picture-light. + +With hands now as steady and sure as they had been vacillant a moment +since, he closed the safe door noiselessly, shot its bolts, and was yards +away, crouching behind an armchair, before the man outside had ceased to +fumble with the window fastenings. + +If this were the watchman Howson, doubtless he would be satisfied with +finding the room dark and apparently untenanted, and would go off upon his +rounds unsuspecting. If he did not, or if he noticed the displaced panel, +then would come Lanyard's time to break cover and run for it. + +With a faint creak one of the windows swung inward. Curtain-rings clashed +dully on their poles. Someone came through the portičres and paused, +pulling them together behind him. The beam of an electric flash-lamp lanced +the gloom and its spotlight danced erratically round the walls. + +Now there was no more thought of flight in Lanyard's humour, but rather a +firm determination to stand his ground. This was no night watchman, but a +housebreaker, one with no more title to trespass upon those premises than +himself; and at that an unskilled hand at such work, the rawest of amateurs +practising methods as clumsy and childish as any actor playing at burglary +on a stage before a simple-minded audience. + +The noise he made on entering alone proved that, then this fatuous business +with the flash-lamp. And as he moved inward from the windows it became +evident that he had not even had the wit to close the portičres completely; +a violet glimmer of starlight shone in through a deep triangular gap +between them at the top. + +For all that, the intruder seemed to know what he wanted and where to seek +it, betrayed a nice acquaintance with the room, proceeding directly to the +safe picked out by his lamp. + +Arrived beneath it he uttered a low sound which might have been interpreted +as surprise due to finding the panel already out of place. If so, surprise +evidently roused in him no suspicion that all might not be well. On the +contrary, he quite calmly located and turned the switch controlling the +picture-light. + +Immediately, as its rays gushed down and disclosed the man, Lanyard +rose boldly from his place in hiding. Now there was no more need for +concealment; now was his enemy delivered into his hands. + +The man was "Karl." + +His back to Lanyard, unconscious of that one's catlike approach, the spy +put up his flash-lamp, searched in a waistcoat pocket and produced a slip +of paper, and bent his face close to the combination dial, studying its +figures; but abruptly, like a startled animal, whirled round to face the +windows. + +One of the sashes was thrown back roughly, and a figure clad in the gray +livery of a private watchman parted the portičres and entered the library. + +"Everything all right in here, Mr. Blensop?" + +Lanyard saw the sheen of blue steel in the hands of "Karl," and leaped too +late: even as he fell upon the spy's shoulders, the pistol exploded. + +The watchman reeled back with a choking cry, caught wildly at the +portičres, and dragged them down with him as he fell. + +His screams of agony made hideous the night. And the second cry was no more +than uttered when Lanyard, even in the heat of his struggle, heard sounds +indicating that already the household was alarmed. + +But the door would hold for a while; it was not probable that the first to +come downstairs would think to bring with him the key. Time enough to +think of escape when Lanyard had settled his score with this one: no light +undertaking; not only was the score a long one, longer than Lanyard then +dreamed, but, as he had learned to his cost, the man was an antagonist of +skill and strength not to be despised. + +Nevertheless, aided by the surprise of his onslaught, Lanyard succeeded +in disarming the spy, forcing him to drop the pistol at the outset, and +through attacking from behind had him at a further disadvantage. For all +that he found his hands full till, by a trick of jiu-jitsu, he wrenched one +of the fellow's arms behind him so roughly as almost to dislocate it at the +shoulder and, forcing the forearm up toward his shoulder blades, held him +temporarily helpless. + +"Be still, you murderous canaille!" he growled--"or must I tear your arm +from its socket? Still, I say!" + +"Karl" uttered a grunt of pain and ceased to struggle. + +Pinning him against the bookcase, Lanyard hastily rifled his pockets, at +the first dip bringing forth a thin sheaf of American bank-notes with the +figures $1000 conspicuous on the uppermost. + +"Ten thousand dollars," he said grimly--"precisely my fee for the use of my +name--to say nothing of its abuse!" + +A torrent of untranslatable German blasphemy answered him. Intelligible was +the half-frantic demand: "Who the devil are you?" + +"Take a look, assassin--see for yourself!" Lanyard twisted the spy around +to face him, holding him helpless against the wall with a knee in his +middle and a hand gripping his throat inexorably. "Do you know me now--the +man you thought you'd drowned a hundred fathoms deep?" + +Blows thundered on the hallway door. Neither heeded. The spy was staring +into Lanyard's face, his eyes starting with horror and affright. + +"Lanyard!" he gasped. "Good God! will you never die?" + +"Never by your hand--" Lanyard began, but stopped sharply. + +For a moment he glared incredulously, and in that moment knew his enemy. + +"Ekstrom!" he cried; and the man at his mercy winced and quailed. + +The din in the hallway grew louder. Voices cried out for the key. Somebody +threw himself against the door so heavily that it shook. + +The emergency forced itself upon Lanyard's consciousness, would not be +denied. Its dilemma seemed calculated to unseat his reason. If he lingered, +he was lost. Either he must grant this creature new lease of life, or be +caught and pay the penalty of murder for an execution as surely just as any +in the history of mankind. + +It was bitter, too bitter to have come to this his hour so long desired, so +long deferred, so arduously sought, and have the fruits of it snatched from +his craving grasp. + +He could not bring himself to this renunciation; slowly his fingers +tightened on the other's throat. + +Driven to desperation by the light of madness that began to flicker in +Lanyard's eyes, the Prussian abruptly put all he had of might and fury into +one final effort, threw Lanyard off, and in turn attacked him, fighting +like a lunatic for footroom, for space enough to turn and make for the +windows. + +In spite of all he could do Lanyard saw the man work away from the wall and +manoeuvre his back toward the windows; then he flew at him with redoubled +fury, driving home blow after blow that beat down Ekstrom's guard and sent +him staggering helplessly, till an uppercut, swinging in under his uplifted +forearms, put an end to the combat. Ekstrom shot backward half a dozen +feet, stumbled over the prostrate body of the watchman, and crashed +headlong into the windows, going down in a shower of shattered glass. + +In one and the same instant Lanyard darted back and dropped upon his knees +in the shadow of the club lounge, and the door to the hallway slammed open. +A knot of men, to the number of half a dozen, tumbling into the library, +saw that figure floundering amid the ruins of the window, and made for it, +passing on the other side of the lounge, between it and the fireplace. + +Unseen, Lanyard rose, ran crouching across the room; found the side door, +opened it just far enough to permit the passage of his body, and drew it to +behind him. + +Ninety-fifth Street was a lonely lane of midnight quiet. He sped across it +like the shadow of a cloud wind-hunted. + + + + +XVI + +AU PRINTEMPS + + +In those days New York nights were long; this was still young when Lanyard +sauntered sedately from a side street and stopped on a corner of Broadway +in the Nineties; he had not long to wait ere a southbound taxicab hove in +sight and sheered over to the curb in answer to his signal. + +It was still something short of one o'clock when he was set down at his +door. + +Wearily he let himself in by the private entrance, made a light, and +without troubling even to discard his overcoat threw himself into a chair. +Leaden depression weighed down his heart, and the flavour of failure was +as aloes in his mouth. Thrice within an hour he had fallen short of his +promises, to Cecelia Brooke, to himself, to his _idée fixe_. His three +chances, to redeem his word to the girl, to measure up to his queer +criterion of honour, to rid his world of Ekstrom, all had slipped through +fingers seemingly too infirm to profit by them. + +He felt of a sudden old; old, and tired, and lonely. + +The uses of his world, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable! What was +his life? An emptiness. Himself? A shuttlecock, the helpless sport of +his own failings, a vain thing alternately strutting and stumbling, now +swaggering in the guise of an avenger self-appointed, now sneaking in the +shameful habiliments of a felon self-condemned. + +What had prevented his dealing out to Ekstrom the punishment he had so well +earned? That insatiable lust for loot of his. But for that damning evidence +against him of the stolen necklace in his pocket he might have had his will +of Ekstrom, and justified himself when discovered by proving that he had +merely done justice to a thief who sold what he had stolen and stole back +to steal again what he had sold. + +Self-contempt attacked self-conceit like an acid. He saw Michael Lanyard +a sorry figure, sitting stultified with self-pity ... crying over spilt +milk.... + +Impatiently he shook himself. What though he had to-night forfeited his +chances? He could, nay, would, make others. He must.... + +To what end? Would life be sweeter if one found a way to restore to Cecelia +Brooke her precious document and to smuggle back to Mrs. Arden her pilfered +diamonds? Would this deadly ache of loneliness be less poignant with +Ekstrom dead? + +With lack-lustre eyes he looked round that cheerless room, reckoning its +perfunctory pretense of comfort the forlornest mockery. To lodgings such as +this he was condemned for life, to an interminable sequence of transient +quarters, sordid or splendid, rich or mean, alike in this common quality of +hollow loneliness.... + +His aimless gaze wandered toward the door opening on the public hallway, +and became fixed upon a triangular shape of white paper, the half of an +envelope tucked between door and sill. + +Presently he rose and got the thing, not until he touched it quite +persuaded he was not the victim of an optical hallucination. + +A square envelope of creamy paper, it was superscribed simply in a hand +strange to him, _Anthony Ember, Esq_., with the address of his apartment +house. + +Tearing the envelope he found within a double sheet of plain notepaper +bearing a message of five words penned hastily: + + "_Au Printemps_-- + "_one o'clock_-- + "_Please_!" + +Nothing else, not another word or pen-scratch.... + +Opening the door Lanyard hailed the hall-attendant, a sleepy and not +over-intelligent negro. + +"When did this come for me?" + +"'Bout anour ago, Mistuh Embuh." + +"Who brought it?" + +"A messenger boy done fotch it, suh--look lak th' same boy." + +"What same boy?" + +"Same as come in when you do, 'bout 'leven o'clock--remembuh?" + +Lanyard nodded, recalling that on his way up the street from Sixth Avenue +he had been subconsciously irritated by the shrill, untuneful whistling of +a loutish youth in Western Union uniform, who had followed him into the +house and become engaged in some minor altercation with the attendants +while Lanyard was unlocking the door to his apartment. + +"What of him?" + +"Why, he bulge in heah an' say we done send a call, an' we tell him we don' +know nuffin' 'bout no call, an' he sweah an' carry on, an' aftuh you done +gone in he ast whut is yo' name, an' somebody tell him an' he go away. An' +then 'bout haffanour aftuhwuds he come back with that theah lettuh--say to +stick it undeh yo' do, ef yo' ain't home. Leastways he look to me lak th' +same boy. Ah dunno fo' suah." + +Repeated efforts failing to extract more enlightenment from this source, +Lanyard again shut himself in with the puzzle. + +Somebody had set a messenger boy to dog him and find out his name and +address. Not Crane: Lanyard had seen that one disappear in the elevator of +the Knickerbocker and had thereafter moved too quickly to permit of Crane's +returning to the lobby, calling a messenger boy, and pointing out Lanyard. + +For that matter, Lanyard was prepared to swear nobody had followed him from +the Knickerbocker to the Biltmore. + +Vaguely he seemed to recall a first impression of the boy at the time when +he emerged from the drug store after his unprofitable effort to telephone +Cecelia Brooke, an indefinite memory of a shambling figure with nose +flattened against the druggist's window, apparently fascinated by the +display of a catch-penny corn cure. + +Was there a link between that circumstance and the long delay which Lanyard +had suffered in the telephone booth? Had the Knickerbocker operator been +less stupid and negligent than she seemed? Was the truth of the matter that +Crane had surmised Lanyard would attempt communication with the Brooke girl +and had set a watch on the switchboard for the call? + +Assuming that the Secret Service man had been clever enough for that, +it was not difficult to understand that Lanyard had purposely been kept +dangling at the other end of the wire till the call could be traced back to +its source and a messenger despatched from the nearest Western Union office +with instructions to follow the man who left the booth, and report his name +and local habitation. + +Sharp work, if these inferences were reasonable. And, satisfied that +they were, Lanyard inclined to accord increased respect to the detective +abilities of the American. + +But this note, this hurried, unsigned scrawl of five unintelligible words: +what the deuce did it mean? + +On the evidence of the handwriting a woman had penned it. Cecelia Brooke? +Who else? Crane might well have been taken into her confidence, subsequent +to the sinking of the _Assyrian_, and on discovering that Lanyard had +survived have used this means of relieving the girl's distress of mind. + +But its significance?... "Au Printemps" translated literally meant "in the +springtime," and "in the springtime at one o'clock" was mere gibberish, +incomprehensible. There is in Paris a department store calling itself "Au +Printemps"; but surely no one was suggesting to Lanyard in New York a +rendezvous in Paris! + +Nevertheless that "Please!" intrigued with a note at once pleading and +imperative which decided Lanyard to answer it without delay, in person. + +"_Au Printemps--one o'clock--please_!" + +Upon the screen of memory there flashed a blurred vision of an electric +sign emblazoning the phrase, "Au Printemps," against the façade of a +building with windows all blind and dark save those of the street level, +which glowed pink with light filtered through silken hangings; a building +which Lanyard had already passed thrice that night without, in the +preoccupation of his purpose, paying it any heed; a building on Broadway +somewhere above Columbus Circle, if he were not mistaken. + +Already it was one o'clock. Fortunately he was still in evening dress, and +needed only to change collar and tie to repair the disarray caused by his +encounter with Ekstrom. + +In two minutes he was once more in the street. + +Within five a cab deposited him in front of the Restaurant Au Printemps, an +institution of midnight New York whose title for distinction resided mainly +in the fact that it opened its upper floors for the diversion of "members" +about the time when others put up their shutters. + +Lanyard's advent occurred at the height of its traffic. The dining rooms on +the street level were closed and unlighted: but men and women in pairs +and parties were streaming across the sidewalk from an endless chain of +motor-cars and being ground through the revolving doors like grist in the +hopper of an unhallowed mill, the men all in evening dress, the women in +garments whose insolence outrivalled the most Byzantine nights of L'Abbaye +Thęlčme. + +Drawn in with the current through the turnstile door, Lanyard found himself +in an absurdly little lobby thronged to suffocation, largely with people +of the half-world--here and there a few celebrities, here and there small +tight clusters of respectabilities making a brave show of feeling at +ease--all waiting their turn to be lifted to delectable regions aloft in an +elevator barely big enough to serve in a private residence. + +For a moment Lanyard lingered unnoticed on the outskirts of this +assemblage, searching its pretty faces for the prettier face he had come to +find and wondering that she should have chosen for her purpose with him a +resort of this character. His memory of her was sweet with the clean smell +of the sea; there was incongruity to spare in this atmosphere heady with +the odours of wine, flesh, scent, and tobacco. Perplexing.... + +A harpy with a painted leer and predacious eyes pounced upon him, tore away +his hat and coat, gave him a numbered slip of pasteboard by presenting +which he would be permitted to ransom his property on extortionate terms. + +And still he saw no Cecelia Brooke, though his aloof attitude coupled with +an intent but impersonal inspection of every feminine face within his +radius of vision earned him more than one smile at once furtively +provocative and unwelcome. + +By degrees the crowd emptied itself into the toy elevator--such of it, that +is, as was passed by a committee on membership consisting of one chubby, +bearded gentleman with the look of a French diplomatist, the empressement +of a head waiter and the authority of the Angel with the Flaming Sword. +_Personae non gratae_ to the management--inexplicably so in most +instances--were civilly requested to produce membership cards and, upon +failure to comply, were inexorably rejected, and departed strangely +shamefaced. Others of acceptable aspect were permitted to mingle with +the upper circles of the elect without being required to prove their +"membership." + +In the person of this suave but inflexible arbiter Lanyard identified a +former maître d'hôtel of the Carlton who had abruptly and discreetly fled +London soon after the outbreak of war. + +He fancied that this one knew him and was sedulous both to keep him in the +corner of his eye and never to meet his regard directly. + +And once he saw the man speak covertly with the elevator attendant, +guarding his lips with a hand, and suspected that he was the subject of +their communication. + +The lobby was still comfortably filled, a constant trickle of arrivals +replacing in measure the losses by election and rejection, when Lanyard, +watching the revolving doors, saw Cecelia Brooke coming in. + +She was alone, at least momentarily; and in his sight very creditably +turned out, remembering that all her luggage must have been lost with the +_Assyrian_. But what Englishwoman of her caste ever permitted herself to be +visible after nightfall except in an evening gown of some sort, even though +a shabby sort? Not that Miss Brooke to-night was shabbily attired: she was +much otherwise; from some mysterious source of wardrobe she had conjured +wraps, furs, and a dancing frock as fresh and becoming as it was, oddly +enough, not immodest. And with whatever cares preying upon her secret mind, +she entered with the light step and bright countenance of any girl of her +age embarked upon a lark. + +All that was changed at sight of Lanyard. + +He bowed formally at a moment when her glance, resting on him, seemed about +to wander on; instead it became fixed in recognition. Instantly her smile +was erased, her features stiffened, her eyes widened, her lips parted, the +colour ebbed from her cheeks. And she stopped quite still in front of the +door till lightly jostled by other arrivals. + +Then moving uncertainly toward him, she said, "Monsieur Duchemin!" not +loudly, for she was not a woman to give excuse for a scene under any +circumstances, but in a tone of complete dumbfounderment. + +Covering his own dashed contenance with a semblance of unruffled +amiability, he bowed again, now over the hand which the girl tentatively +offered, letting it rest lightly on his fingers, touching it as lightly +with his lips. + +"It is such a pleasant surprise," he said at a venture, then added +guardedly: "But my name--I thought you knew it was now Anthony Ember." + +Her eyes were blank. "I don't understand," she faltered. "I thought you ... +I never dreamed.... Is it really you?" + +"Truly," he averred, lips smiling but mind rife with suspicion and +distrust. + +This was not acting; he was convinced that her surprise was absolutely +unfeigned. + +So she had not expected to find him "Au Printemps" at one o'clock in the +morning, till that very moment had believed him as dead as any of those +poor souls who had perished with the _Assyrian_! + +Therefore that note had not come from her, therefore Lanyard had +complimented Crane without warrant, crediting him with another's +cleverness. Then whose...? + +And while Lanyard's head buzzed with these thoughts, an independent chamber +of his mind was engaged in admiring the address with which the girl was +recovering from what must have been, what plainly had been, a staggering +shock. Already she had begun to grapple with the situation, to take herself +in hand and dissemble; already her face was regaining its accustomed cast +of self-confidence, composure, and intelligent animation. Throughout she +pursued without a break the thread of conventional small talk. + +"It is a surprise," she said calmly. "Really, you are a most astonishing +person, Mr. Ember. One never knows where to look for you." + +"That is my good fortune, since it provides me with unexpected pleasures +such as this. You are with friends?" + +"With a friend," she corrected quietly--"with Mr. Crane. He stopped outside +to pay our taxi-driver. How odd it seems to find any place in the world as +much alive as this New York!" + +"It seems almost impossible," Lanyard averred--"indeed, somehow wrong. I've +a feeling one has no right to encourage so much frivolity. And yet...." + +"Yes," she responded quickly. "It is good to hear people laugh once more. +That is why Mr. Crane suggested coming here to-night, to cheer me up. He +said Au Printemps was unique, promised I'd find it most amusing." + +"I'm sure...." Lanyard began as Crane entered, breezing through the +turnstile and comprehending the situation in a glance. + +"Hello!" he cried. "Didn't I tell you everybody alive would be here?" + +Nor was Cecelia Brooke less ready. "But fancy meeting Mr. Ember here! I had +no idea he was in New York--had you?" + +"Perhaps a dim suspicion," Crane admitted with a twinkle, taking Lanyard's +hand. "Howdy, Ember? Glad to see you, gladder'n you'd think." + +"How is that?" Lanyard asked, returning the cordiality of his grasp. + +Crane's penetrating accents must have been audible in the remotest corner +of the ground-floor rooms: he made no effort to modulate them to a quieter +pitch. + +"You can help me out of a fix if you feel like it. You see, I promised Miss +Brooke if she'd take me for her guide, she'd see life to-night; and now, +just when we're going good, I've got to renig. Man I know held me up +outside, says I'm wanted down town on special business and must go. I might +be able to toddle back later, but can't bank on it. Do you mind taking over +my job?" + +"Chaperoning Miss Brooke's investigations into the seamy side of current +social history? That will be delightful." + +"Attaboy! If I'm not back in half an hour you'll see her safely home, of +course?" + +"Trust me." + +"And you'll excuse me, Miss Brooke? I hope you don't think--" + +"What I do think, Mr. Crane, is that you have been most kind to a lonely +stranger. Of course I'll excuse you, not willingly, but understanding you +must go." + +"That makes me a heap easier in my mind. But I' got to run. So it's +good-night, unless maybe I see you later. So long, Ember!" + +With a flirt of a raw-boned hand, Crane swung about, threw himself +spiritedly into the revolving door, was gone. + +"Amazing creature," Lanyard commented, laughing. + +"I think him delightful," the girl replied, surrendering her wraps to a +maid. "If all Americans are like that--" + +"Shall we go up?" + +She nodded--"Please!"--and turned with him. + +The committee on membership himself bowed them into the elevator. Several +others crowded in after them. For thirty seconds, while the car moved +slowly upward, Lanyard was free to think without interruption. + +But what to think now? That Crane, actuated by some motive occult to +Lanyard, had engineered this apparently adventitious _rencontre_ for the +purpose of throwing him and the Brooke girl together? Or, again, that Crane +was innocent of guile in this matter--that other persons unknown, causing +Lanyard to be traced to his lodgings, had framed that note to entice him to +this place to-night? In the latter event, who was conceivably responsible +but Velasco, Dressier, O'Reilly--any one of these, or all three working in +concert? The last-named had looked Lanyard squarely in the face without +sign of recognition, back there in the lobby of the Knickerbocker, +precisely as he should, if implicated in the conspiracies of the Boche; +though it might easily have been Velasco or Dressier who had recognized the +adventurer without his knowledge.... + +The car stopped, a narrow-chested door slid open, a gush of hectic light +coloured morbidly the faces of alighting passengers, a blare of syncopated +noise singularly unmusical saluted the astonished ears of Lanyard and +Cecelia Brooke. She met his gaze with a smiling _moue_ and slightly lifted +eyebrows. + +"More than we bargained for?" he laughed. "But there is always something +new in this America, I promise you. Au Printemps itself is new, at all +events did not exist when I was last in New York." + +Following her out, he paused beside the girl in a constricted space hedged +about with tables, waiting for the maître d'hôtel to seat those who had +been first to leave the elevator. + +The room, of irregular conformation, held upward of two hundred guests and +habitués seated at tables large and small and so closely set together +that waiters with difficulty navigated narrow and tortuous channels of +communication. In the middle, upon a small dancing floor, rudely octagonal +in shape, made smaller by tables crowded round its edge to accommodate the +crush, a mob of couples danced arduously, close-locked in one another's +arms, swaying in rhythm with the over-emphasized time beaten out by a +perspiring little band of musicians on a dais in a far corner, their +activities directed by an antic conductor whose lantern-jawed, sallow face +peered grotesquely out through a mop of hair as black and coarse and lush +as a horse's mane. + +Execrable ventilation or absence thereof manufactured an atmosphere that +reeked with heat animal and artificial and with ill-blended effluvia from a +hundred sources. Perhaps the odour of alcohol predominated; Lanyard thought +of a steam-heated wine-cellar. He observed nothing but champagne in any +glass, and if food were being served it was done surreptitiously. Sweat +dripped from the faces of the dancers, deep flushes discoloured all not so +heavily enamelled as to preserve an inalterable complexion, the eyes of +many stared with the fixity of hypnosis. Yet when the music ended with an +unexpected crash of discord these dancers applauded insatiably till the +jaded orchestra struck up once more, when they renewed their curious +gyrations with quenchless abandon. + +The Brooke girl caught Lanyard's eye, her lips moved. Thanks to the din, he +had to bend his head near to hear. + +She murmured with infinite expression: "Au Printemps!" + +The maître d'hôtel was plucking at his sleeve. + +"Monsieur had made reservations, no?" Startled recognition washed the man's +tired and pasty countenance. "Pardon, monsieur: this way!" He turned and +began to thread deviously between the jostling tables. + +Dubiously Lanyard followed. He likewise had known the maître d'hôtel at +sight: a beastly little decadent whose cabaret on the rue d'Antin, just off +the avenue de l'Opéra, had been a famous rendezvous of international spies +till war had rendered it advisable for him to efface himself from the ken +of Paris with the same expedition and discretion which had marked the +departure from London of his confrčre who now guarded the lower gateway to +these ethereal regions of Au Printemps. + +The coincidence of finding those two so closely associated worked with the +riddle of that note further to trouble Lanyard's mind. + +Was he to believe Au Printemps the legitimate successor in America of that +less pretentious establishment on the rue d'Antin, an overseas headquarters +for Secret Service agents of the Central Powers? + +He began to regret heartily, not so much that he had presented himself in +answer to that note, but the responsibility which now devolved upon him of +caring for Miss Brooke. Much as he had wished to see her an hour ago, now +he would willingly be rid of her company. + +Why had he been lured to this place, if its character were truly what he +feared? Conceivably because he was believed--since it now appeared he had +cheated death--still to possess either that desired document or knowledge +of its whereabouts. + +Naturally the enemy would not think otherwise. He must not forget that +Ekstrom was playing double; as yet none but Lanyard knew he had stolen the +document and done a murder to cover the theft from his associates and leave +him free to sell to England without exciting their suspicion. + +Consequently, Lanyard believed, he had been invited to this place to +be sounded, to be tempted, bribed, intimidated--if need be, and +possible--somehow to be won over to the uses of the Prussian spy system. + +Leading them to the farther side of the room, the maître d'hôtel paused +bowing and mowing beside a large table already in the possession of a party +of three. + +Lanyard's eyes narrowed. One of the three was Velasco, another a young man +unknown to him, a mannerly little creature who might have been written by +the author of "What the Man Will Wear" in the theatre programmes. The third +was Sophie Weringrode, the Wilhelmstrasse agent whom he had only that +afternoon observed entering the house in Seventy-ninth Street. + +He stopped short, in a cold rage. Till that moment a mirror-sheathed pillar +had hidden from him Velasco and the Weringrode; else Lanyard had refused +to come so far; for obviously there were no unreserved tables, indeed few +vacant chairs, in that part of the room. + +Not that he minded the cynical barefacedness of the dodge; that was indeed +amusing; he was sanguine as to his ability to dominate any situation that +might arise, and to a degree indifferent if the upshot should prove his +confidence misplaced; and he did not in the least object to letting the +enemy show his cards. But he did enormously resent what was, after all, +something quite outside the calculations of these giddy conspirators, the +fact that he must either beat incontinent retreat or introduce Cecelia +Brooke to the company of Sophie Weringrode. + +His face darkened, a stinging reproof for the maître d'hôtel trembled on +his tongue's tip; but that one was busily avoiding his eye on the far side +of the table, drawing out a chair for "mademoiselle," while Velasco and the +Weringrode were alert to read Lanyard's countenance and forestall any steps +he might contemplate in defiance of their designs. + +At first glimpse of the Brooke girl Velasco jumped up and hastened to her, +with eager Latin courtesy expressing his unanticipated delight in the +prospect of her consenting to join their party. And she was suffering with +quiet graciousness his florid compliments. + +At the same time the Weringrode was greeting Lanyard in the most intimate +fashion--and damning him in the understanding of Cecelia Brooke with every +word. + +"My dear friend!" she cried gayly, extending a bedizened hand. "I had begun +to despair of you. Is it part of your system with women always to be a +little late, always to keep us wondering?" + +Schooling his features to a civil smile, Lanyard bowed over the hand. + +"In warfare such as ours, my dear Sophie," he said with meaning, "one uses +all weapons, even the most primitive, in sheer self-defense." + +The woman laughed delightedly. "I think," she said, "if you rose from the +dead at the bottom of the sea, _Tony_, it would be with wit upon your +lips.... And you have brought a friend with you? How charming!" She shifted +in her chair to face Cecelia Brooke. "I wish to know her instantly!" + +Velasco was waiting only for that opening. "Dear princess," he said, +instantly, "permit me to present Miss Cecelia Brooke ... Princess de +Alavia...." + +Completely at ease and by every indication enjoying herself hugely, the +girl bowed and took the hand the Weringrode thrust upon her. Her eyes, +a-brim with excitement and mischief, veered to Lanyard's, ignored their +warning, glanced away. + +"How do you do?" she said simply. "I didn't understand Mr. Ember expected +to meet friends here, but that only makes it the more agreeable. May we sit +down?" + + + + +XVII + +FINESSE + + +The person in the educated evening clothes was made known as Mr. Revel. +For Lanyard's benefit and his own he vacated the chair beside Sophie +Weringrode, seating himself to one side of Cecelia Brooke, who had Velasco +between her and the soi-disant princess. + +Already a waiter had placed and was filling glasses for Lanyard and the +girl. + +With the best grace he could muster the adventurer sat down, accepted +a cigarette from the Weringrode case, and with openly impertinent eyes +inspected the intrigante critically. + +She endured that ordeal well, smiling confidently, a handsome creature with +a beautiful body bewitchingly gowned. + +Time, he considered, had been kind to Sophie--time, the mysteries of the +modern toilette, and the astonishing adaptability of womankind. Splendidly +vital, like all of her sort who survive, she seemed mysteriously able to +renew that vitality through the very extravagance with which she squandered +it. She had lived much of late years, rapidly but well, had learned much, +had profited by her lessons. To-night she looked legitimately the princess +of her pretensions; the manner of the grande dame suited her type; her +gesture was as impeccable as her taste; prettier than ever, she seemed at +worst little more than half her age. + +And her quick intelligence mocked the privacy of his reflections. + +"Fair, fast, and forty," she interpreted smilingly. + +He pretended to be stunned. "Never!" he protested feebly. + +The woman reaffirmed in a series of rapid nods. "Have I ever had secrets +from you? You are too quick for me, monsieur: I do not intend to begin +deceiving you at this late day--or trying to." + +"Flattery," he declared, "is meat and drink to me. Tell me more." + +She laughed lightly. "Thank you, no; vanity is unbecoming in men; I do not +care to make you vain." + +Aware that Cecelia Brooke was listening all the while she seemed to be +enchanted with the patter of Mr. Revel and the less vapid observations of +Velasco, Lanyard sought to shunt personalities from himself. + +"And now a princess!" + +"Did you not know I had married? Yes, a princess of Spain--and with a +castle there, if you must know." + +"Quite a change of atmosphere from Berlin," he remarked. "But it has done +you no perceptible harm." + +That won him a black look. "Oh, Berlin!" she said with contemptuous lips. +"I haven't been there since the beginning of the war. I wish never to see +the place again. True: I was born an Austrian; but is that any reason why I +should love Germany?" + +She leaned forward, her fan gently tapping the knuckles of his hand. + +"Pay less attention to me," she insisted, with a nod toward the middle of +the room. "You are missing something. Me, I never tire of her." + +The floor had been cleared. A drummer on the dais was sounding the +long-roll crescendo. At the culminating crash the lights were everywhere +darkened save for an orange-coloured spot-light set in the ceiling +immediately above the dancing floor. Into that circular field of torrid +glare bounded a woman wearing little more than an abbreviated kirtle of +grass strands with a few festoons of artificial flowers. Applause roared +out to her, the orchestra sounded the opening bars of an Americanised +Hawaiian melody, the woman with extraordinary vivacity began to perform a +denatured hula: a wild and tawny animal, superbly physical, relying with +warrant upon the stark sensuality of her body to make amends for the +censored phrases of the primitive dance. The floor resounded like a great +drum to the stamping of her bare feet, till one marvelled at such solidity +of flesh as could endure that punishment. + +Sophie Weringrode lounged negligently upon the table, bringing her head +near Lanyard's shoulder. + +"Play fair," she said between lips that barely moved. + +Without looking round Lanyard answered in the same manner: "Why ask more +than you are prepared to give?" + +"The police ran you out of America once. We need only publish the fact that +Mr. Anthony Ember is the Lone Wolf...." + +"Well?" + +"Leave Berlin out of it before this girl." + +Lanyard shrugged and laughed quietly. "What else?" + +"We can't talk now. Ask me for the next dance." + +The woman sat back in her chair, attentive to the posturing of the dancer, +slowly fanning herself. + +Lanyard's semblance of as much interest was nothing more; furtively his +watchfulness alternated between two quarters of the room. + +On the farther edge of the circle of tropical radiance he had marked down a +table at which two men were seated, Dressier and O'Reilly. No more question +now as to the personnel of the conspiracy; even Velasco had thrown off +the mask. The enemy had come boldly into the open, indicating a sense of +impudent assurance, indicating even more, contempt of opposition. No +longer afraid, they no longer skulked in shadows. Lanyard experienced a +premonition of events impending. + +In addition he was keeping an eye on the door to the elevator shaft. Once +already it had opened, letting a bright window into the farther wall of the +shadowed room, discovering the figure of the maître d'hôtel in silhouette, +anxiety in his attitude. He was waiting for somebody, waiting tensely. So +were the others waiting, all that crew and their fellow workers scattered +among the guests. Lanyard told himself he could guess for whom. + +Only Ekstrom was wanting to complete the circle. When he appeared--if by +chance he should--things ought to begin to happen. + +If tolerably satisfied that Ekstrom would not come--not that night, at all +events--Lanyard, none the less, continued to be jealously heedful of that +doorway. + +But the hula came to an end without either his vigilance or the impatience +of the maître d'hôtel being rewarded. Writhing with serpentine grace to the +edge of the illuminated area, the dancer leaped back into darkness and the +folds of a wrap held by a maid, in which garment she was seen, bowing and +laughing, when the lights again blazed up. + +Without ceasing to play, changing only the time of the tune, the orchestra +swung into a fox-trot. Lanyard glanced across the table to see Cecelia +Brooke rising in response to the invitation of dapper Mr. Revel. + +In his turn, he rose with Sophie Weringrode. "Be patient with me," +he begged. "It is long since I danced to music more frivolous than a +cannonade." + +"But it is simple," the woman promised--"simple, at least, to one who can +dance as you could in the old days. Just follow me till you catch the step. +It doesn't matter, anyway; I desire only the opportunity to converse." + +Yielding to his arms, she shifted into French when next she spoke. + +"You do admirably, my friend. Never again depreciate your dancing. If you +knew how one suffers at the feet of these Americans--!" + +"Excellent!" he said. "Now that is settled: what is it you are instructed +to propose to me?" + +She laughed softly. "Always direct! Truly you would never shine as a secret +agent." + +"Not as they shine," Lanyard countered--"in the dark." + +"Don't be a fraud. We are what we are, and so are you. Let us not begin to +be censorious of one another's methods of winning a living." + +"Agreed. But when do we begin to talk business?" + +"Why do you continue so persistently antagonistic?" + +"I am French." + +"That is silly. You are an outlaw, a man without a country. Why not change +all that?" + +"And how does one effect miracles?" + +"Germany offers you a refuge, security, freedom to ply your trade +unhindered--within reasonable limits." + +"And in exchange what do I give?" + +"Your services, as and when required, in our service." + +"Beginning when?" + +"To-night." + +"With what specific performance?" + +"We want, we must without fail have, that document you took from the Brooke +girl." + +"Perhaps we had better continue in English. You are speaking a tongue +unknown to me." + +"Don't talk rot. You know well what I mean. We know you have the thing. +You didn't steal it to turn it over to England or the States. What is your +price to Germany?" + +"Whatever you have in mind, believe me when I say I have nothing to sell to +the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"But what else can you do with it? What other market--?" + +"My dear Sophie, upon my word I haven't got what you want." + +"Then why so keen to get the Brooke girl on the telephone as soon as you +found out where she was stopping?" + +"How did you learn about that, by the way?" + +"Let the credit go to Seńor Velasco. He saw you first." + +"One thought as much.... Nevertheless, I haven't what you want." + +"You gave it back to Miss Brooke?" + +"Having nothing to give her, I gave her nothing." + +The woman was silent throughout a round of the floor; then, "Tell me +something," she requested. + +"Can I keep anything from you?" + +"Are you in love with the English girl?" + +Lanyard almost lost step, then laughed the thought to derision. "What put +that into your pretty head, Sophie?" + +"Do you not know it yourself, my friend?" + +"It is absurd." + +She laughed maliciously. "Think it over. Possibly you have not stopped to +think as yet. When you know the truth yourself, you will be the better +qualified to fib about it. Also, you will not forget...." + +"What?" he demanded bluntly as she paused with intention. + +"That as long as she possesses the document--since you have it not--her +life is endangered even more than yours." + +"She hasn't got it!" Lanyard declared, as nearly in panic as he ever was. + +"Ah!" the woman jeered. "So you confess to some knowledge of it after all!" + +"My dear," he said, teasingly, "do you really want to know what has become +of that paper?" + +"I do, and mean to." + +"What if I tell you?" + +Her eyes lifted to his in childlike candour. "Need you ask?" + +"You are irresistible.... Ask Karl." + +She demanded sharply: "Whom?" + +"Ekstrom." + +"Ah!" Again the adventuress was silent for a little. "What does he know?" + +"Ask him, enquire why he murdered von Harden, then what business took him +to Ninety-fifth Street twice this evening--once about nine o'clock, again +at midnight." + +"You must be mad, monsieur. Karl would not dare...." + +"You don't know him--or have forgotten he was trained in the International +Bureau of Brussels, and there learned how to sell out both parties to a +business that won't bear publicity." + +"I wonder," the woman mused. "Never have I wholly trusted that one." + +"Shall I give you the key?" + +"If you love Karl as little as I...." + +"But where do you suppose the good man is, this night of nights?" + +"Who knows? He was not here when I arrived at midnight. I have seen nothing +of him since." + +"When you do--if he shows himself at all--look him over carefully for signs +of wear and tear." + +"Yes, monsieur? And in what respect?" + +"Look for cuts about his head and hands, possibly elsewhere. And should he +confess to an affair with a wind-shield in a motor accident, ask him what +happened to the study window in the house at Ninety-fifth Street." + +Impish glee danced in the woman's eyes. "Your handiwork, dear friend?" + +"A mere beginning.... You may tell him so, if you like." + +He was subjected to a convulsive squeeze. "Never have I felt so kindly +disposed toward an enemy!" + +"It is true, I were a better foe to Germany if I kept my counsel and let +Ekstrom continue to play double." + +The music ceasing, to be followed by the inevitable clamour for more, +Lanyard offered an arm upon which Sophie rested a detaining hand. + +"No--wait. We dance this encore. I have more to say." + +He submitted amiably, the more so since not ill-pleased with himself. And +when again they were moving round the floor, she bore more heavily upon his +shoulder and was thoughtful longer than he had expected. Then-- + +"Attention, my friend." + +"I am listening, Sophie." + +"If what you hint is true--and I do not doubt it is--Karl's day is done." + +"More nearly than he dreams," Lanyard affirmed grimly. + +"I shan't be sorry. I am German through and through; what I do, I do for +the Fatherland, and in that find absolution for many things I care not to +remember. If through what you tell me I may prove Karl traitor, I owe you +something." + +"Always it has been my fondest hope, Sophie, some day to have you in my +debt." + +Her fingers tightened on his. "Do not jest in the shadow of death. Since +you have been unwise enough to venture here to-night, you will not be +permitted to leave alive--unless you pledge yourself to us and prove your +sincerity by producing that paper." + +"That sounds reasonable--like Prussia. What next?" + +"I have warned you, so paid off my debt. The rest is your affair." + +"Do you imagine I take this seriously?" + +"It will turn out seriously for you if you do not." + +"How can I be prevented from leaving when I will, from a public +restaurant?" + +"Is it possible you don't know this place? It is maintained by the +Wilhelmstrasse. Attempt to leave it without coming to a satisfactory +understanding, and see what happens." + +"What, for instance?" + +"The lights would be out before you were half across the room. When they +went up again, the Lone Wolf would be no more, and never a soul here would +know who stabbed him or what became of the knife." + +"Are you by any chance amusing yourself at my expense?" + +Once more the woman showed him her handsome eyes: he found them frankly +grave, earnest, unwavering. + +"If you will not listen, your blood be on your own head." + +"Forgive me. I didn't mean to be rude...." + +"Still, you do not believe!" + +"You are wrong. I am merely amused." + +"If you understood, you could never mock your peril." + +"But I don't mock it. I am enchanted with it. I accept it, and it renews +my youth. This might be Paris of the days when you ran with the Pack, +Sophie--and I alone!" + +The woman moved her pretty shoulders impatiently. "I think you are either +mad or ... the very soul of courage!" + +The encore ended; they returned to the table, Sophie leaning lightly on +Lanyard's arm, chattering gay inconsequentialities. + +Dropping into her chair, she bent over toward Cecelia Brooke. + +"He dances adorably, my dear!" the intrigante declared. "But I dare say you +know that already." + +The English girl shook her head, smiling. "Not yet." + +"Then lose no time. You two should dance well together, for you are more of +a size. I think the next number will be a waltz. We get altogether too few +of them; these American dances, these one-steps and foxtrots, they are not +dances, they are mere romps, favourites none the less. And there is always +more room on the floor; so few waltz nowadays. Really, you must not miss +this opportunity." + +This playful insistence, the light stress she laid upon her suggestion that +Cecelia Brooke dance with him, considered in conjunction with her recent +admonition, impressed Lanyard as significantly inconsistent. Sophie was no +more a woman to make purposeless gestures than she was one sufficiently +wanting in finesse to signal him by pressures of her foot. There was sheer +intention in that iteration: "... _lose no time ... you must not miss this +opportunity_." Something had happened even since their dance; she had +observed something momentous, and was warning him to act quickly if he +meant to act at all. + +With unruffled amiability, amused, urbane, Lanyard bowed his petition +across the table, and was rewarded by a bright nod of promise. + +Lighting another cigarette, he lounged back, poised his wine glass +delicately, with the eye of a connoisseur appraised its pale amber tint, +touched it lightly to his lips, inhaling critically its bouquet, sipped, +and signified approval of the vintage by sipping again: all without missing +one bit of business in a scene enacted on the far side of the room, +directly behind him but reflected in a mirror panel of the wall he faced. + +The diplomatist charged with the task of discriminating the sheep from the +goats in the lower lobby had come up to confer with his colleague, the +maître d'hôtel of the upper storey. When Lanyard first saw the man he was +standing by the elevator shaft, none too patiently awaiting the attention +of the other, who, caught by inadvertence at some distance, was moving to +join him, with what speed he could manage threading the thick-set tables. + +Was this what Sophie had noticed? Had she likewise, perhaps, received some +secret signal from the guardian of the lower gateway? + +A signal possibly indicating that Ekstrom had arrived + +They met at last, those two, and discreetly confabulated, the maître +d'hôtel betraying welcome mitigation of that nervous tension which had +heretofore so palpably affected him; and, as the other stepped back into +the elevator, Lanyard saw this one's glance irresistibly attracted to the +table dedicated to the service of the Princess de Alavia. Something much +resembling satisfaction glimmered in the fellow's leaden eyes: it was +apparent that he anticipated early relief from a distasteful burden of +responsibility. + +Then, at ease in the belief that he was unobserved, he turned to a near-by +table round which four sat without the solace of feminine society--four +men whose stamp was far from reassuring despite their strikingly quiet +demeanour and inconspicuously correct investiture of evening dress. + +Two were unmistakable sons of the Fatherland; all were well set up, with +the look of men who would figure to advantage in any affair calling for +physical competence and courage, from coffee and pistols at sunrise in the +Parc aux Princes to a battle royal in a Tenderloin dive. + +Their table commanded both ways out, by the stairs and by the elevator, +much too closely for Lanyard's peace of mind. + +And more than one looked thoughtfully his way while the maître d'hôtel +hovered above them, murmuring confidentially. + +Four nods sealed an understanding with him. He strutted off with far more +manner than had been his at any time since the arrival of Lanyard, and +vented an excess of spirits by berating bitterly an unhappy clown of a +waiter for some trivial fault. + +The first bars of another dance number sang through the confusion of +voices: truly, as Sophie had foretold, a waltz. + + + + +XVIII + +DANSE MACABRE + + +Trained in the old school of the dance, Lanyard was unversed in that +graceless scamper which to-day passes as the waltz with a generation +largely too indolent or too inept of foot to learn to dance. + +His was that flowing waltz of melting rhythm, the waltz of yesterday, +that dance of dances to whose measures a civilization more sedate in its +amusements, less jealous of its time, danced, flirted, loved, and broke its +hearts. + +Into the swinging movement of that antiquated waltz Lanyard fell without +a qualm of doubt, all ignorant as he was of his benighted ignorance; and +instantly, with the ease and gracious assurance of a dancer born, Cecelia +Brooke adapted herself to his step and guidance, with rare pliancy made her +every movement exquisitely synchronous with his. + +No need to lead her, no need for more than the least of pressures upon her +yielding waist, no need for anything but absolute surrender to the magic of +the moment.... + +Effortless, like creatures of the music adrift upon its sounding tides, +they circled the floor once, twice, and again, before reluctantly Lanyard +brought himself to shatter the spell of that enchantment. + +Looking down with an apologetic smile, he asked: + +"Mademoiselle, do you know you can be an excellent actress?" + +As if in resentment the girl glanced upward sharply, with clouded eyes. + +"So can most women, in emergency." + +"I mean ... I have something serious to say; nobody must guess your +thoughts." + +She said simply: "I will do my best." + +"You must--you must appear quite charmed. Also, should you catch me +smirking like an infatuated ninny, remember I am only doing my own +indifferent best to act." + +Laughter trembled deliciously in her voice: "I promise faithfully to bear +in mind your heartlessness!" + +"I am an ass," he enunciated with the humility of conviction. "But that +can't be helped. Attend to me, if you please--and do not start. This place +turns out to be a nest of Prussian spies. I was brought here by a trick. I +understand the order is I may not leave alive." + +Playing her part so well as almost to embarrass Lanyard himself, the girl +smiled daringly into his eyes. + +"Because of that packet?" she breathed. + +"Because of that, mademoiselle." + +"Where is it?" + +For an instant Lanyard lost countenance absolutely. Through sheer good +fortune the girl was now dancing with face averted, her head so nearly +touching his shoulder that it seemed to rest upon it. + +Nevertheless, it was at cost of an heroic struggle that he fought down all +signs of that shock with which it had been borne in upon him that he dared +not assure the girl her packet was in safe hands. + +If he had failed in his efforts to restore the thing to her, that she might +consign it as she saw fit and so discharge her personal trust, till now +Lanyard had solaced himself with a hazy notion that she would in turn be +comforted when she learned the document was in the keeping of her country's +Secret Service. + +Impossible to tell her that: his own act had rendered it impossible, +that act the outcome of wilful trifling with his infirmity, his itch for +thieving. + +Of a sudden the pilfered necklace secreted in an inner pocket of his +waistcoat, above his heart, seemed to have gained the weight of so much +lead. The hideous consciousness of the thing stung like the bite of live +coals. + +This woman was in distress; he yearned to lighten her burden; he could do +that with half a dozen words; his guilt prohibited. + +A thief! + +Now indeed the Lone Wolf tasted shame and realized its bitterness.... + +Puzzled by his constraint, the girl's eyes again sought his; and warned +in time by the movement of her head, he mustered impudence to meet their +question with the look of tenderness that went with the rôle she suffered +him to play. + +"What is the matter?" + +"I am ashamed that I have failed you...." + +"Don't think of that. I know you did your best. Only tell me what became of +it." + +"It was stolen; when I returned to my stateroom that night I was held up +and robbed. The thief shot at me, killed his confederate, decamped by +way of the port. I pursued. Another aided him to overpower and cast me +overboard." + +"Yet you escaped...!" + +Strange she should seem more intrigued by that than concerned about her +loss! + +"I escaped, no matter how...." + +"You don't know who stole the packet?" + +"I don't recall the man among the passengers, but he may have been in one +of the boats, a fellow of about my stature, with a flowing beard...." + +He sketched broadly Ekstrom as he had seen him in the Stanistreet library. + +Her eyes quickened. + +"One such escaped in our boat, the second steward; I think his name was +Anderson." + +"Doubtless the same." + +"Then it is gone!" + +For once in his acquaintance with her, that brave spirit seemed to falter: +she became a burden, bereft for a little of all grace and spontaneity. + +He was constrained to swing her forcibly into time. + +Almost instantly she recollected herself, covered her lapse with a little +laugh innocent of any hint of its forced falsity, and showed him and the +room as well a radiant countenance: all with such address and art that the +incident might well have escaped notice, otherwise have passed for a bit of +natural by-play. + +Yet distress was too eloquent in the broken query: "What _am_ I to do?" + +Heartsick, self-sick to boot, he essayed to suggest that she consult +Colonel Stanistreet, but lacking so much effrontery, stammered and fell +silent. + +Perhaps misinterpreting, she cried in quick contrition: "I am forgetting! +Forgive me. I should have said: what are you to do?" + +He whipped his wits together. + +"Look down, turn your face aside, smile.... I have a plan, a desperate +remedy, but the best I can contrive. When next the lift comes up, we must +try to be near it. There is one row of tables which we must break through +by main force. Leave that to me, follow as I clear a way, go straight into +the lift. If anything happens, run down the stairway on the left. The +ground floor is two flights below. If I am any way detained, don't stop--go +on, get your wraps, take the first taxi you see, return directly to the +Knickerbocker. I will telephone you later." + +"If you live," she breathed. + +"Never fear for me...." + +"But if I do? Do you imagine I could rest if I thought you had sacrificed +yourself for me?" + +"You must not think that. I am far too selfish--" + +"That is not so. And I refuse positively to do as you wish unless you tell +me how I may communicate with you." + +Resigned to humour her, he recited his address and the number of the house +telephone, and when she had memorized both by iteration, resumed: + +"Once outside, if anybody tries to hinder you, don't let them intimidate +you into keeping quiet, but scream, scream at the top of your lungs. These +beasts abominate a screaming woman, or any other undue noise. Not only will +that frighten them off, but it will fetch the nearest policeman." + +The music ceased. She stood flushed, smiling, adorably pretty, eyes +star-like for him alone. + +"We are not far from the lift now," she said just audibly. + +"But the door is shut. Hush. Here comes the encore. Once more around...." + +They drifted again into that witching maze of melody and movement made one. + +"You are silent," she said, after a little. "Why?" + +Lanyard answered with a warning pressure on her hand. + +The elevator was stationary at the floor, its door wide, the maître d'hôtel +engaged in a far quarter of the room, while those four formidable guardians +of the exit were gossiping with animation over their glasses. + +"Steady. Now is our time." + +Abruptly they stopped. A couple that had been following them avoided +collision by a close margin. Over his partner's head the man scowled +portentously--and dissipated his display of temper on Lanyard's indifferent +back. + +Upon those guests who sat between the dancing floor and elevator, Lanyard +wasted no consideration. Pushing roughly between two adjoining tables, he +lifted one chair with its astonished occupant bodily out of the way, then +turned, swung an arm round the girl's waist, all but threw her through the +lane he had created, followed without an instant's pause. + +It was all so quickly accomplished that the girl was in the car before +another person in the room appreciated what was happening. And Lanyard, in +the act of slamming the door shut without heed for the protesting operator, +saw only a room full of amazed faces with gaping mouths and rounded +eyes--and one man of the four at the near-by table in the act of rising +uncertainly, with a stupefied look. + +Elbowing the boy aside, he seized the operating lever and thrust it to the +notch labelled "Descend." An instant of pause followed: like its attendant +the elevator seemed stalled in inertia of stupefaction. + +Beyond the door somebody loosed an infuriated screech. Angry hands +drummed on the glass panel. With a premonitory shudder the car started +spasmodically, moved downward at first gently, then with greater speed, +coming to an abrupt stop at the street level with a shock that all but +threw its passengers from their feet. + +Up the shaft that senseless punishment of the panel continued. Some other +intelligence conceived the notion for ringing for the car to return: its +annunciator buzzed stridently, continuously. + +Unlatching the lower door, Lanyard threw it back, stepped out, finding the +lobby deserted but for a simpering group of coat-room girls, to one of whom +he flipped a silver dollar. + +"Find this lady's wraps--be quick!" + +Deftly catching the coin, the girl snatched the check from Cecelia Brooke, +and darted into the women's dressing room. + +Throughout a wait of agonising suspense, the elevator boy remained cowering +in a corner of the car, staring at Lanyard as at some shape of terror, +while the ignored buzzer droned without cessation to persistent pressure +from above. + +Out of the dark entrance to the lower dining room the bearded diplomatist +popped with the distracted look of a jack-in-the-box about to be ravished +of its young. + +"Monsieur is not leaving?" he expostulated shrilly, darting forward. + +Lanyard stopped him with a look whose menace was like a kick. + +"I am seeing this lady to her cab," he said in a cold and level voice. + +The coat-room girl emerged from her lair with an armful of wraps and furs. + +Again the bearded one made as if to block the doorway. + +"But, monsieur--mademoiselle--!" + +Lanyard caught the fellow's arm and sent him spinning like a top. + +"Out of the way, you rat!" he snapped; then to the girl: "Be quick!" + +As she shouldered into a compartment of the revolving door incoherent yells +began to echo down the staircase well. At length it had occurred to those +above to utilize that means of descent. + +Wedged in the wheeling door, a final glimpse of the lobby showed Lanyard +the startled, putty-like mask of the maître d'hôtel at the head of +the stairway with, beyond him, the head of one who, though in shadow, +uncommonly resembled Ekstrom--but Ekstrom as he was in the old days, +without his beard. + +That picture passed like a flash on a cinema screen. + +They were on the sidewalk, and the girl was running toward a taxicab, the +only vehicle of its sort in sight, at the curb just above the entrance. + +Coatless and bareheaded, Lanyard swung to face the door porter, a towering, +brawny animal in livery, self-confident and something more than keen to +interfere; but his mouth, opening to utter some sort of protest, shut +suddenly without articulation when Lanyard displayed for his benefit a .22 +Colt's automatic. And he fell back smartly. + +Jerking open the cab door, the girl stumbled into the far corner of the +seat. The motor was churning in promising fashion, the chauffeur settling +into place at the wheel. Into his hand Lanyard thrust a ten-dollar bill. + +"The Knickerbocker," he ordered. "Stop for nobody. If followed steer for +the nearest policeman. There'll be no change." + +He closed the door sharply, leaned over it, dropped the little pistol into +the girl's lap. + +"Chances are you won't want that--but you may." + +She bent forward quickly, eyes darkly lustrous with alarm, and placed a +hand upon his arm. + +"But you?" + +"It is I whom they want, not you. I won't subject you to the hazard of my +company." + +Gently Lanyard lifted the hand from his sleeve, brushed it gallantly with +his lips, released it. + +"Good-night!" he laughed, then stepped back, waved a hand to the +chauffeur--"Go!" + +The taxicab shot away like a racing hound unleashed. With a sigh of relief +Lanyard gave himself wholly to the question of his own salvation. + +The rank of waiting motor-cars offered no hope: all but one were private +town cars and limousines, operated by liveried drivers. A solitary roadster +at the head of the line tempted and was rejected; even though it had no +guardian chauffeur, something of which he could not be sure, he would +be overhauled before he could start the motor and get the knack of its +gear-shift mechanism. Even now Au Printemps was in frantic eruption, its +doors ejecting violently a man at each wild revolution. + +Down Broadway an omnibus of the Fifth Avenue line lumbered, at no less +speed than twenty miles an hour, without passengers and sporting an +illuminated "Special" sign above the driver's seat. + +Dashing out into the roadway, Lanyard launched himself at the narrow +platform of the unwieldy vehicle and, in spite of a yell of warning from +the guard, landed safely on the step and turned to repel boarders. + +But his manoeuvre had been executed too swiftly and unexpectedly. The group +before Au Printemps huddled together in ludicrous inaction, as if stunned. +Then one raged through it, plying vicious elbows. As he paused against the +light Lanyard identified unmistakably the silhouette of Ekstrom. + +So that one had, after all, escaped the net of his own treachery! + +The 'bus guard was shaking Lanyard's arm with an ungentle hand. + +"Here, now, you got no business boardin' a Special." + +From his pocket Lanyard whipped the first bank-note his fingers +encountered. + +"Divide that with the chauffeur," he said crisply--"tell him to drive like +the devil. It's life or death with me!" + +The protruding eyeballs of the guard bore witness to the magnitude of the +bribe. + +"You're on!" he breathed hoarsely, and ran forward through the body of the +conveyance to advise the driver. + +Swarming up the curved stairway to the roof, Lanyard dropped into the rear +seat, looking back. + +The group round the doorway was recovering from its stupefaction. Three +struck off from it toward the line of waiting cars. Of these the foremost +was Ekstrom. + +Simultaneously the 'bus, lumbering drunkenly, lurched into Columbus Circle, +and the roadster left the curb carrying in addition to the driver two +passengers--Ekstrom on the running-board. + +Tardily Lanyard repented of that impulse which had moved him to bestow his +one weapon upon Cecelia Brooke. + +The night air had a biting edge. A chill rain had begun to drizzle down in +minute globules of mist, which both lent each street light its individual +nimbus of gold and dulled deceitfully the burnished asphaltum, rendering +its surface greasy and treacherous. More than once Lanyard feared lest +the 'bus skid and overturn; and before the old red brick building between +Broadway and Eighth Avenue shut out the western sector of the Circle, he +saw the roadster, driven insanely, shoot crabwise toward the curb, than +answer desperate work at the wheel and whirl madly, executing a volte-face +so violent that Ekstrom's hold was broken and he was hurled a dozen feet +away. And Lanyard's chances were measurably advanced by the delay required +in order to pick up the sprawling one, start the engine anew, and turn more +cautiously to resume the pursuit. + +Striking diagonally across Broadway the 'bus swung into Fifty-seventh +Street at the moment when the roadster turned the corner of Columbus +Circle. + +The head of the guard lifted above the edge of the roof. Clinging to the +supports of the stairway, he addressed Lanyard in accents of blended +suspicion and respect. + +"Lis'n, boss: is this all right, on the level, now?" + +"Absolutely, unless that racing-car catches up with us, in which case +you'll have a dead man--myself--on your hands." + +"Well ... we don't wanna lose our jobs, that's all." + +"You won't unless I lose my life." + +"Anything you'd like me to do?" + +"Go down, wait on the platform, if anybody attempts to get aboard kick him +in the act." + +"Sure I will!" + +The guard disappeared. + +Wallowing like a barge in a strong seaway, the omnibus crossed Seventh +Avenue and sped downhill toward Sixth with dangerous momentum. Shortly, +however, this began to be modified by the brakes, a precaution against +mishap which even the fugitive must approve. Ahead loomed the gaunt +structure of the Sixth Avenue "L," bridging the roadway at so low an +elevation as to afford the omnibus little more than clear headroom. Once +beneath it a single bounce up from the surface-car tracks must mean a +wreck. + +But the pursuit was less than half a block astern and gaining swiftly, even +as the speed of the omnibus was growing less and desperately less. + +At what seemed little better than a snail's pace it began to pass beneath +the span of the Elevated. + +Like a racing thoroughbred the roadster swept up alongside, motor chanting +triumphantly, running-board level with the platform step. + +Ekstrom, poised to leap aboard, hesitated; a pistol in his hand exploded; a +shattered window fell crashing. + +There was a yell from the guard, not of pain but of fright. Apparently he +executed a von Hindenburg retreat. Without more opposition Ekstrom gained +the platform. + +In the same breath Lanyard stood up. The lowermost girder of the "L" was +immediately overhead. He grasped it, doubled his legs beneath him, swung +clear. The omnibus shot from under him, the roadster convoying. + +Drawing himself up, he seized a round iron upright of guard-rail and heaved +his body in over the edge of the platform round the switching-tower, which +was at this hour dark and untenanted. + +In the street below a police whistle shrieked, and a fusillade of pistol +shots woke scandalised echoes. + +Bending almost double Lanyard moved rapidly northward on the footway beside +the western tracks, and so gained the old station on the west side of +Fifty-eighth Street, for years dedicated to the uses of desuetude. Through +this he crept, then down the stairs, encountering at the lower landing an +iron gate which obliged him to climb over and jump. + +Not a soul paid the least attention to this matter of a gentleman in +evening dress without hat or top coat dropping from the stairway of a +disused elevated station at two o'clock in the morning. + +In New York anything can happen, and most things do, without stirring up +meddlesome impulses in innocent bystanders. + + + + +XIX + +FORCE MAJEURE + + +This visit to his rooms was the briefest of the several Lanyard made that +night, considerations of mortal urgency dictating its drastic abbreviation. + +If the events of the last few hours had meant anything whatever they had +demonstrated two truths which shone like beacon lights: that Manhattan +Island was overpopulated as long as both he and Ekstrom remained on it; +that Ekstrom had been goaded to the verge of aberration by the discovery +that Lanyard had come safely through the _Assyrian_ débâcle to take up anew +his self-appointed office of Nemesis to the Prussian spy system in general +and to the genius of its American bureau in particular. + +Henceforth that one would know no more rest while Lanyard lived. + +Thus that little street-level apartment forfeited whatever attractions it +originally had possessed in the adventurer's estimation. Not only was the +address known to Ekstrom's associates, and so open to him, but its peculiar +characteristics, its facilities for access from the street direct, rendered +it a highly practicable death-trap for a hunted man. + +Lanyard was well persuaded he need only wait there long enough to receive a +deputation from Seventy-ninth Street. And with any assurance that Ekstrom +would come alone, he might have been content to wait. Not only had he +through too intimate acquaintance with his methods every assurance that +Ekstrom would never brave alone what he could induce another to risk with +him, but Lanyard was never one willing to play the passive part. + +A banal axiom of all warfare applied: The advantage is with him who fights +upon the offensive. + +Since midnight the offensive had shifted from Lanyard's grasp to the +enemy's. He was determined to recapture it; and that was something never to +be accomplished by sitting still and waiting for events to unfold, but only +by carrying the war into the enemy's camp. + +He delayed, then, only long enough to change his clothing and to conceal +about him certain properties which it seemed unwise to expose to chance +discovery on the part of Ekstrom or in the ever-possible event of police +intervention. + +Within five minutes from the time of his return he was closing behind him +the private door. + +Wearing a quiet lounge suit but no top coat, with a hat not so soft as to +lack character but soft enough to stick upon one's head in time of action, +and carrying a stick neither brutishly stout nor ineffectively slender, +he strolled up to Seventh Avenue, turned north, entered Central Park--and +strolled no more. + +Kindly shadows enfolded him, engulfed him altogether. One minute after he +had passed through the gateway he would have defied unaided apprehension +by the most zealous officer of the peace. He went swiftly and secretly, +avoiding all lighted ways. + +Not till then did conscience stir and remind him of his slighted promise to +call up Cecelia Brooke. + +No time now for that; the errand that engaged him was of a nature to brook +no more procrastination. The girl must wait. He was sorry if, as she had +protested, solicitude for his welfare must interfere with her night's rest. +But what must be, must: until he saw the end of this adventure he could be +influenced by no minor consideration whatsoever. + +Not that he seriously believed Cecelia's sleep would be uneasy because of +him. That was too much. + +His temper was grim and skeptical. The resentment roused by the trap that +had so nearly laid him by the heels, together with the subsequent effort to +assassinate him out of hand, had settled into a phase of smouldering fury +whose heat consumed like misty vapours every lesser emotion, every humane +consideration. + +Some by-thought recalling the Weringrode's innuendo that he was in love +without his knowledge, moved him to laugh outright if strangely, an +unpleasant laugh that held as much of pain as of derision. + +What room in that dark heart of his for love?... the heart of a thief and a +potential assassin, the heart of the Lone Wolf!... + +How was he to know he had hardly left his lodgings before their hush was +interrupted by the grumble of the house telephone? + +Intermittently for upward of three minutes that sound persisted. When +at length it discontinued the quiet of the untenanted rooms reigned +undisturbed for a brief time only. + +An odd metallic stridor became audible, a succession of scrapings of +stealthy accent at the private entrance. Its latch clicked. The door swung +back against the wall with a muffled bump. Two pairs of furtive feet padded +in the little private hallway. The flash of an electric hand-lamp flickered +hither and yon like a searching poignard, picked out the door to the one +bedchamber and vanished. There was guarded whispering, then a thud as one +of the intruders gained the middle of the bedchamber in a bound. An instant +later a switch snapped, and the room was flooded with light. + +Beneath the chandelier stood a man in evening dress the worse for +misadventure, one knee of his trousers cut open, both legs caked with +a film of half-dry mud, his linen dingy with mud-stains, his top coat +shockingly bedraggled. He was bareheaded, apparently having lost his hat; a +black smear across one cheek added emphasis to the pallor of newly shaven +jowls; and his eyes were blazing. + +"Stole away!" he muttered briefly in disgust, then called: "Ed!" + +As quietly as a shadow a second man joined him, greeting him with a "Hush!" + +This gentleman was in far more presentable repair and a more equable frame +of mind. There was even a glint of amusement in his hard blue eyes. His +countenance had an Irish cast. + +"Hush?" the other iterated with contempt. "What for? The hound's not here." + +"No, Karl," Ed admitted; "but there are others in the house. If it's known +to them that Lanyard's out, they may turn in a police alarm; and I for one +have had enough of bulls for one night." + +Karl grunted disdainfully. "I told you this would be a waste of time...." + +"And I agreed with you entirely. But you would come." + +"Lanyard's no such fool as to stick round a place he knows I know about." +Karl's hands twitched and his features worked nervously. "He knows me too +well, knows that if ever I lay hands on him again--" + +His voice was rising to an hysterical pitch when the other checked him with +a sibilant hiss. At the same time his hand darted out and switched off the +light. Karl uttered a startled ejaculation. + +"_Sssh_!" his companion repeated. + +In the street a motor-car was rumbling, stationary before the door. Then +the remote grinding of the house door-bell was heard. + +"Let's get out of this," suggested the Irishman. "It's no good waiting, +anyway." + +"Hold hard! We won't go till we have a clear field." + +The Prussian stole out into the sitting room and stood listening at the +door to the public hallway, his companion standing by with a mutinous air. + +"Oh, come along!" he insisted, in a stage whisper. + +"Shut up! Listen...." + +Shuffling footfalls traversed the hallway. The front door was opened. The +clear voice of an Englishwoman was answered in the slurring patois of a +negro. + +"No'm, he ain't in." + +The next enquiry was intelligible: the speaker had entered the hallway. + +"Are you sure?" + +"Yas'm. Sumbody done call him up 'bout ten min'tes ago, an' I rung an' rung +an' he don' answer. He ain't in or he don' mean to answer nobody, tha's +all." + +"I am very anxious about him. Have you a key to his rooms?" + +"Yas'm, I got a pass-key, but--" + +"Please use it. Take this. Go in and make sure he is out, or if at home +that he is all right." + +"Yas'm, thanky ma'am, but--" + +"Do as I tell you. I will see that you don't get into trouble." + +"All right, ma'am." The negro chuckled, probably over his tip. "Yo' sho' +has got the p'suadin'est way...." + +The Irishman caught the German's arm. "Come out of this," he pleaded. + +"No fear. I'll see it through. That's the Brooke girl the fool got in with +on the boat. She may know something...." + +"But--" + +"Leave this to me. You look out for the negro. I'll take care of Miss +Cecelia Brooke." + +Swearing unhappily, the Irishman flattened against the wall to one side of +the door. Karl waited behind it as it admitted the hall attendant, who made +directly toward the central chandelier. + +"Yo' jes' wait, ma'am, an' I'll mek a light an'--" + +But the girl had impetuously followed him in. + +The light went up, and Karl put a heavy shoulder against the door, closing +it with a slam. The negro turned and stood with gaping mouth and staring +eyes, dumb with terror. The girl recognised Karl with a little cry, and +darted back toward the door. Immediately he caught her in his arms. Her +lips opened, but their utterance was stifled by a handkerchief thrust +between them with the dexterity of a practised hand. + +Without one word of warning the Irishman stepped forward and struck the +negro brutally in the face. The boy reeled, whimpering. Two more blows +delivered with murderous ferocity silenced him altogether. He collapsed +like a broken puppet, insensible on the floor, his face a curious ashen +colour beneath its glossy skin of brown. + + + + +XX + +RIPOSTE + + +The drizzle had grown thicker, the night blacker, the early morning air +still more chill. But Lanyard was moving too swiftly to be affected by +this last circumstance; the first he anathematised with the perfunctory +bitterness of a skilled artisan who sees his work in a fair way to be +obstructed by elemental depravity. Another of his trade would have termed +such weather conditions ideal, and so might the Lone Wolf on an everyday +job; but the prospect of a footing rendered insecure by rain trebled the +hazards attending a plan of campaign that would brook neither revision nor +delay. + +There was only one way to break into the house on Seventy-ninth Street; +this Lanyard had appreciated upon his first reconnaissance of the previous +afternoon. He could have wished for more time in which to prepare and +assemble tested equipment instead of relying upon chance to supply +the requisite gear; but with all time at his disposal the mechanical +difficulties of the problem would remain. Far from indifferent to these, +Lanyard addressed himself to their conquest doggedly and with businesslike +economy of motion. + +Shunning the public paths he went over the park wall like a cat, sped +across town through Eightieth Street, and so came to that plot of land upon +which an apartment building was in process of erection, immediately to the +north of the American headquarters of the Prussian spy system. + +Walled in with stone two storeys deep, its gaunt skeleton of steel had +been joined together as far as the seventh level. How much higher it was +destined to rise was immaterial; for Lanyard's purpose it was enough that +the frame had already outgrown its neighbour on the south. + +A litter of lumber, huge steel girders, and other material narrowed the +side street to half its normal width. The sidewalk space was trampled earth +roofed with heavy planks for the protection of pedestrian heads, a passage +lighted by electric bulbs widely spaced; midway in this an entrance to +the structure was flanked by a wooden shanty, by day a tool house, after +working hours a shelter for the night watchman. This boasted one glazed +window dull with orange light. + +Approaching with due precaution, Lanyard peered in. The light came from a +single electric bulb and a potbellied sheet-iron stove, glowing red. Near +by, in a chair tipped against the wall, sat the watchman, corncob pipe +in hand, head drooping, eyes closed, mouth ajar. A snore of the first +magnitude seemed to vibrate the very walls. On the floor beside the chair +stood a two-quart tin pail full of arid emptiness. + +Dismissing further consideration of the watchman as a factor, satisfied +that the entire neighbourhood as well was sound asleep, Lanyard darted up +the plank walk that led into the building, then paused to get his bearings. + +Effluvia of mortar and damp lumber saluted him in an uncanny place whose +darkness was slightly qualified by a faint refracted glow from the low +canopy of cloud and by equally dim shafts of diffused street light. There +was more or less flooring of a temporary character over a sable gulf of +cellars, and overhead a sullen, weeping sky cross-hatched with stark black +ironwork. + +With infinite patience Lanyard groped his way through that dark labyrinth +to the foot of a ladder ascending an open shaft wherein a hoisting tackle +dangled. + +Here he stumbled over what he had been seeking, a great coil of one-inch +hempen cable, from which he measured off roughly what he would require, if +his calculations were correct, and something over. This length he re-coiled +and slung over his shoulder: an awkward, weighty handicap. Nevertheless he +began to climb. + +Above the third level there was merely steel framework; he had somewhat +more light to guide him, with a view of the north wall of the Seventy-ninth +Street house, bright in the glare of avenue lamps. + +The wall was absolutely blank. + +At the seventh level the ladders ended. He stepped off upon a foot-wide +beam, paused to make sure of his poise, and began to walk the girders with +a sureness of foot any aviator might have envied. + +At regular intervals he encountered uprights: between these he had to +depend upon his sense of direction and equilibrium to guide him safely +across those narrow walks of steel made slippery by rain. + +But, thanks to forethought, his footwork was faultless: he wore shoes old, +well-broken, very soft, flexible, and silent. + +The building was in the shape of a squat E, with two courts facing south. +On this seventh level the first court was bridged by a single girder, the +middle of which was Lanyard's immediate objective. Since it lacked uprights +he took it cautiously on hands and knees until approximately equidistant +from both ends, when he straddled it, took the cable from his shoulders, +uncoiled a length and made it fast round the girder with a clove hitch: +giddy work, in that darkness, on that greasy span, fashioning by simple +sense of touch the knot upon which his life was to depend, half of the time +prone upon the girder and fishing blindly beneath it for the rope's end, +with nothing but a seventy--foot drop between him and eternity, not even +another girder to break a fall.... + +He was now immediately opposite the minaret, at an elevation of about +twenty feet above the roof he wished to reach, and as far away, or perhaps +a trifle farther. + +Still he detected no signs of life about that nest of spies: if the +wireless were in operation its apparatus was well-housed; there was no +sound of the spark, never a glimmer of its violet flash. + +Laboriously--the knot completed to his satisfaction--Lanyard returned via +the eastern arm of the E, paying out the coiled cable as he progressed, +working round to the north side of the court. + +Once again pausing opposite the minaret, he knotted the end of the cable +loosely round an upright connecting with the sixth level, let it slide +down, followed it, repeated the process, and rested finally on the fifth. + +Now his ordeal approached a climax which he contemplated with what calmness +he could while securing the rope beneath the arms. + +In another sixty seconds or less it must be demonstrated whether his dead +reckoning would set him down safe and sound on the roof or dash him against +the walls of the Seventy-ninth Street house, to swing back and dangle +impotently in mid-air till daylight and police discovered him--unless, +escaping injury, he were able to pull himself up hand over hand to the +girder. + +With one arm round the upright to prevent the sag of rope from dragging him +over prematurely, he essayed a final survey. + +Either the murk deceived or Lanyard had judged shrewdly. His feet were on +an approximate level with the coping round the roof, and he stood about as +far from the upper girder to which the rope was hitched as that was distant +from the coping. + +One look up and round at those louring skies, duskily flushed by subdued +city lights: with no more ceremony Lanyard released the upright and +committed his body to space. + +If the downward sweep was breathless, what followed was breath-taking: +once past the nadir of that giant swing, he was borne upward by an impetus +steadily and sensibly slackening. + +Instant followed leaden-winged instant while the wall, looming like +a mountainside, seemed to be toppling, insensately bent upon his +annihilation; even so his momentum, decreasing with frightful swiftness, +seemed possessed of demoniac desire to frustrate him. + +After an age-long agony of doubt it became evident he was not destined +to crash into the wall, but not that he was to gain the coping: through +fractions of a second hideously protracted this last drew near, nearer, +slowly, ever more slowly. + +And he was twisting dizzily.... + +With frantic effort he crooked an arm over the coping at a juncture when, +had he not acted instantly, he must have swung back. There was a racking +wrench, as though his arm were being torn from its socket. + +At the end of a struggle even more wearing he flung his other arm across +the ledge, and for some time hung there, at the end of an almost taut rope, +unable to overcome its resistance and pull himself in over the coping, +stubbornly refusing to loose his grasp. + +Presently, grown desperate, he let go with his right hand, holding fast +only with the left, fumbled in a pocket, found his knife, opened it with +his teeth, and began, to saw at the rope round his chest. + +Strand after strand parted grudgingly till it fell away altogether and +reaction from its tension threw him against the coping with such violence +that he all but lost his hold. Dropping the knife, he swept his right arm +up and once more hooked his fingers over the inside of the ledge. + +Far down the knife clinked suggestively upon stone. + +Breathing deep, Lanyard braced knees and feet against the wall, worried, +heaved, hauled, squirmed like a mad thing, in the end rolled over the top +and fell at length upon the roof, panting, trembling, bathed in sweat, +temporarily tormented by impulses to retch. + +By degrees regaining physical control, he sat up, took his bearings, and +crept toward the foot of the minaret. + +A small, narrow doorway in its base was on the latch. He passed through to +the landing of a dark winding stairway with a dim light at the bottom of +its circular well. + +While he stood attentive, intermittent stridor troubled the stillness, +originating at some point on the floors below: the proscribed wireless was +at work. + +Hearing no other sounds, Lanyard went on down the steps, at their foot +pausing to spy out through a half-open doorway to the topmost storey. + +Nobody moved in the corridor. He saw nothing but a line of closed doors, +presumably to servants' quarters. Now, however, the vibrant rasp of the +radio spark was perceptibly stronger and had a background of subdued noise, +echoes of distant voices, deadened sounds of hasty footfalls, now and again +a heavy thump or the bang of a door. + +Moving out, he commanded the length of the corridor. Toward one end a door +stood open. He could see no more of the room beyond than a narrow patch of +wall fitfully illuminated by a play of violet light. + +Then a man stepped out of this operating room, turning on the threshold to +utter some parting observation; and Lanyard retired hastily to the shaft of +the minaret stairway, but not before recognising Velasco. + +A moment later the Brazilian passed his lurking-place, walking with bended +head, a worried frown darkening his swarthy countenance; and Lanyard +emerged in time to see his head and shoulders vanish down a stairway at the +far end of the corridor. + +Following with discretion, Lanyard leaned over the head of the main +staircase well, looking down three flights to the ground floor, to which +Velasco was descending. + +The house seemed veritably to hum with secret and, to judge by the pitch of +its rumour, well-nigh panic activity. One divined a scurrying as of +rats about to desert a sinking ship. Untoward events had thrown this +establishment into a state of excited confusion: their nature Lanyard could +not surmise, but their conjunction with his designs was exasperatingly +inopportune. To search this place and find his man--if he were there at +all--without being discovered, while its inmates buzzed about like so many +startled hornets, was a fair impossibility; to attempt it was to court +death. + +None the less he was inflexible in determination to go on, to push his luck +to its extremity, by sheer force to bend fortuity to his service and suffer +without complaint whatever the consequences of its recoil. + +Yet even as he advanced a foot to begin the descent, he withdrew it. + +On the ground floor, a door closing with a resounding crash had proved the +signal for an outburst of expostulant, acrimonious voices: some half a +dozen men giving angry tongue at one and the same time, their roars of +polysyllabic gutturalisms fusing into utterly unintelligible clamour. + +One thought of a mutiny in a German madhouse. + +Moment after moment passed, the squall persisting with unmitigated +viciousness. If now and again it subsided momentarily, it was only into +uglier growls and swiftly to rise once more to high frenzy of incoherence. + +Two of the disputants appeared in the square frame of the staircase well, +oddly foreshortened figures brandishing wild arms, one of them Velasco, the +other a man whom Lanyard failed to identify, seemingly united in common +anger directed at the head of some person invisible. + +Abruptly, with a gesture of almost homicidal fury, the Brazilian darted out +of sight. The other followed. + +Then the object of their wrath took to the stairs, stopping at the rail +of the first landing and gesticulating savagely over the heads of his +audience, Velasco and the others returning amid a knot of fellows to bay +round the newel post. + +His voice, full-throated, cried them all down--Ekstrom's deep and resonant +voice, domineering over the uproar, hectoring one after another into sullen +silence. + +In the beginning employing nothing but terms and phrases of insolence and +objurgation untranslatable, when he had secured a measure of attention he +delivered a short address in tones of unqualified contempt. + +"I will have obedience!" he stormed. "Let no one misunderstand my status +here: I am come direct from His Majesty the Emperor with full power and +authority to command and direct affairs which you have, individually, +collectively, proved yourselves either unfit or unable to cope with. What I +do, I do in my absolute discretion, with the full sanction and confidence +of the Kaiser. He who questions my judgment or my actions, questions the +wisdom of the All-Highest. Let it be clearly understood I am answerable +to no one under God but myself and my Imperial master. Henceforth be good +enough to hold your tongues or take the consequences--and be damned to you +all!" + +Briefly he stood glowering down at their upturned faces, then sneered, and +turned away. + +"Come along, O'Reilly," he said. "Fetch the woman, and give no more heed to +swine-dogs!" + +His hand slipped up the rail to the first floor, vanished. + +If O'Reilly followed with the woman mentioned, both kept back from the rail +and so out of Lanyard's field of vision. + +The group at the foot of the stairs moved away, grumbling profanely. + +At once Lanyard began to descend, rapidly and without care to avoid +detection. + +One flight down he met face to face a manservant, evidently a footman, with +an armful of clothing which he was conveying from one chamber to another. +The fellow stopped short, jaw dropping, eyes popping; whereupon Lanyard +paused and addressed him in German with a manner of overbearing contempt, +that is to say, in character. + +"You're wanted upstairs in the radio room," he said--"at once!" + +The servant bleated one word of protest: "But--!" + +"Be silent. Do as I bid you. It is an emergency. Drop those things and go! +Do you hear, imbecile?" + +Completely cowed and cheated, the man obeyed literally, letting his burden +of garments fall to the floor and bounding hurriedly up the stairs. + +Another flight was negotiated without misadventure; on this floor as well +servants were flitting busily to and fro, but none favoured the adventurer +with the least attention. + +Midway down the third flight he pulled up to one side of the landing, and +reconnoitred. It was on the next floor below, the first above the street, +that Ekstrom had stopped. But in what quarter thereof? The exigency forbade +the risk of one false turn. If Lanyard were to take Ekstrom unawares it +must be at the first cast. + +From the ground floor came semi-coherent snatches of surly comment, like +growls of a thunderstorm passing off into the distance: + +"_At a time such as this_...." + +"... _Secret Service snapping at our heels_ ..." + +"... _base on the Vineyard discovered_ ..." + +"... _Au Printemps raided, Sophie Weringrode under arrest. God knows +whether she will hold her tongue_!" + +"_Trust her! But this ass_ ..." + +"_Bringing a woman here, putting all our necks into a halter_ ..." + +Immediately opposite the foot of the stairway, on the first storey, a door +opened. O'Reilly came alertly forth, closed the door behind him, paused, +fished in his pocket for a cigarette case, lighted and inhaled with deep +appreciation, meantime eavesdropping on the utterances below with his head +cocked to one side and a malicious smile shadowing his handsome Irish face. + +In his own good time he shrugged an indifferent shoulder, thrust his hands +into his pockets, and sauntered coolly on down the stairs. + +The moment he disappeared, Lanyard went into action, in two bounds cleared +landing and stairs, in another threw himself upon the door. It opened +readily. Entering, he put his back to it, with his left hand groped for, +found and turned a key, his right holding ready the automatic pistol he had +taken from the lockers of the U-boat. + +The room was a combination of administrative bureau and study, very +handsomely if somewhat over-decorated and furnished, with an atmosphere as +distinctively German as that of a Bierstube, the sombreness of its colour +scheme lending weight to its array of massive desks, tables, chairs, +bookcases, and lounges. + +Between great draped windows and an impressive chimney-piece opposite, +beside a broad, long desk, in a straight-backed chair sat a woman, gagged, +bound as to her wrists, strips of cloth which had but lately bound ankles +as well on the floor about her feet. + +That woman was Cecelia Brooke. + +Ekstrom stood behind her, in the act of loosening the knots which held the +gag secure. + +For a space of thirty seconds, transfixed by the apparition of his enemy, +he did not stir other than to raise weaponless hands in deference to the +pistol trained upon his head. But the blood ebbed from his face, leaving +it a ghastly mask in which shone the eyes of a man who sees certain death +closing in upon him and is powerless to combat it, even to die fighting for +life. And his lips curled back in a snarl neither of contempt nor of hatred +but of terror. + +And for as long Lanyard remained as motionless, rooted in a despondency +of thwarted hopes no less profound than the despair of the Prussian, +apprehending what that one could not yet guess, that once more, and now +certainly for the last time, vengeance was denied him, the fulfilment of +all his labours and their sole purpose snatched from his grasp. + +The instincts of a killer were not his. Barring injudicious attempt to +summon aid or take the offensive, Ekstrom was safe from injury at the hands +of Michael Lanyard. His cunning, his favour in the countenance of fortune, +or whatever it was that had enabled him to make the girl his prisoner and +bring her here, bade fair to prove his salvation. + +Deep in Lanyard's consciousness an echo stirred of half-forgotten words: +"_Vengeance is mine_...." + +The sense of frustration brewed a hopelessness as stark as that of a +brow-beaten child. A blackness seemed to be settling down upon his +faculties. A mist wavered momentarily before his eyes. He gulped +convulsively, swallowing what had almost been a sob. + +But he spoke in a voice positively dispassionate. + +"Keep your hands up." + +Lanyard removed and pocketed the key, crossed to the middle of the room +without once letting his gaze waver from the face of the Prussian, +passed behind him, planted the muzzle of the pistol beneath Ekstrom's +shoulder-blade, and methodically searched him, finding and putting aside on +the desk one automatic, nothing else. + +"Stand aside!" + +The almost puerile measure of his disappointment was betrayed in the thrust +with which he shouldered Ekstrom out of the way, so forcibly that the man +was sent staggering wildly half a dozen paces. + +"Don't move, assassin!... Pardon, mademoiselle: one moment," Lanyard +muttered, with his one free hand undoing the gag. + +He made slow work of that, fumbling while watching Ekstrom with unremitting +intentness, hoping against hope that his enemy might make one false move, +one only, by some infatuate endeavour to turn the tables excuse his +killing. + +But Ekstrom would not. Recovery of his equilibrium had been coincident with +the shock administered to his hardihood and sense of security by Lanyard's +entrance. He stood now in a pose of insouciant grace, hands idly clasped +before him, disdain glimmering in languid-lidded eyes, contempt in the set +of his lips--an ensemble eloquent of brazen effrontery, the outgrowth of +perception of the fact that Lanyard, being what he was, could neither shoot +him down in cold blood nor, with the Brooke girl present, even attempt to +injure him: compunctions unassembled in the make-up of the Boche, therefore +when discovered in men of other races at once despicable and ridiculous.... + +The gag came away. + +"Mademoiselle has not been injured?" Lanyard enquired, solicitous. + +The girl coughed and gasped, shaking her head, enunciating with difficulty +in little better than a husky whisper: "... roughly handled, nothing +worse." + +Lanyard's face burned as if his blood were molten mercury. "_Nothing +worse_!" Appreciation of what handling she must have suffered, if she had +resisted at all, before those beasts could have bound her, excited an +indignation from whose light, as it blazed in Lanyard's eyes, even Ekstrom +winced. + +The hand was tremulous with which he sought to loose her wrists, so much so +that she could not but notice. + +"Don't mind me--look to that man!" she begged. "Leave me to unfasten these +with my teeth. He can't be trusted for a single instant." + +"Mademoiselle," Lanyard mumbled, instinctively employing the French +idiom--"you have reason." + +For an instant only he hesitated, swayed this way and that by the maddest +of impulses, then resigned himself absolutely to their ascendancy. + +"This goes beyond all bounds," he said in an undertone. + +Deliberately leaving the Englishwoman to free herself according to her +suggestion--forgetful, indeed, for the moment, that she was not altogether +free--he moved to the desk and left his own automatic there beside +Ekstrom's. + +"Mademoiselle," he said mechanically, without looking at the girl, without +power to perceive aught else in the world but the white, evil face of his +enemy, "for what I am about to do, I beg you forgive me, of your charity. I +can endure no more. It is too much...." + +He strode past her. + +She twisted in her chair, then rose, following him with wide eyes of alarm +above her hands, whose bonds her teeth worried without rest. + +Ekstrom had not stirred, though one flash of pure exultation had +transfigured his countenance on comprehension of Lanyard's purpose: thanks +to the silly scruples of this animal, one more chance for life was granted +him. + +Nor would the Prussian give an inch when Lanyard paused, confronting him +squarely, within arm's length. + +"Ekstrom," the adventurer began in a voice lacking perceptible inflection +... "what is between you and me needs no recounting. You know it too +well--I likewise. It is my wish and my intention to kill you with my +two hands. Nothing can prevent that, not even what you count upon, my +reluctance--to you incomprehensible--to commit an act of violence in the +presence of a woman. But because Miss Brooke is here, because you have +brought her here by force, because you are what you are and so have treated +her insolently ... before we come to our final accounting, you shall get +down upon your knees and ask her pardon." + +He saw no yielding in the eyes of the Prussian, only arrogance; and when he +paused, he was answered in one phrase of the gutters of Berlin, couched in +the imagery of its lowest boozing-kens, so unspeakably vile in essence +and application that Lanyard heard it with an incredulity almost +stupefying--almost, not altogether. + +It was barely spoken when those lips that framed it were crushed by a blow +of such lightning delivery that, though he must have been prepared for it, +Ekstrom's guard was still lowered as he reeled back, lost footing, and went +to his knees. + +Panting, snarling, uttering teeth and blasphemy, the Prussian recoiled like +a serpent, gathered himself together and launched headlong at Lanyard, only +to be met full tilt by a second blow and a third, each more merciless than +its predecessor, beating him down once more. + +This time Lanyard did not wait for him to come back for punishment, but +closed in, catching him as he strove to rise, meeting each fresh effort +with ruthless accuracy, battering him into insanity of despair, so that +Ekstrom came back again and again without thought, animated only by +frenzied brute instinct to find the throat of his tormenter, and ever and +ever failing; till at length he crumpled and lay crushed and writhing, then +subsided into insensibility, was quite still but for heaving lungs and the +spasmodic clutchings of his broken and ensanguined fingers.... + +With a start, a broken sigh, a slight movement of the hand interpreting a +crushing sense of the futility of human passion, Lanyard relaxed, drew back +from standing over his antagonist, abstractedly found a handkerchief and +dried his hands, of a sudden so inexpressibly shamed and degraded in his +own sight that he dared not look the girl's way, but stood with hang-dog +air, avoiding her regard. + +Yet, could he have mustered up heart, he might have surprised in her eyes +a light to lift him out from this slough of humiliation, to obliterate +chagrin in a flood of wonder and--misgivings. + +When, however, he did after a moment turn to her, that look was gone, +replaced by one that reflected something of his own apprehension; for a +heavy hand was hammering on the study door, and more than one voice on the +other side was calling on "Karl" to open. + +Either the servant whom Lanyard had met and victimised on his way +downstairs had given the alarm, or else the noise of the encounter within +the study had brought that pack of spies to the door, wildly demanding +admission. + +Steadied by one swift exchange of alarmed glances with the girl, Lanyard +hastily reviewed the room, seeking some avenue of escape. None offered but +the windows. He ran to them, tore back their draperies, and found them +closed with shutters of steel and padlocked. + +Simultaneously the din at the door redoubled. + +With a worried shake Lanyard crossed to the chimney-piece, ducked his head, +and stepped into its huge fireplace. One upward glance sufficed to dash his +hopes: here was no way out, arduous though feasible; immediately above the +fireplace the flue narrowed so that not even the most active man of normal +stature might hope to negotiate its ascent. + +He returned with only a gesture of disconcertion to answer the girl's look +of appeal. + +"Can we do nothing?" she asked, raising her voice a trifle to make it heard +above the tumult in the corridor. + +"There's no help for it, I'm afraid," he said, going to the desk and taking +up the pistols--"nothing to do but shoot our way out, if we can. Take +this," he added, offering her one of the weapons, which she accepted +without spirit. "If you can't get your own consent to use it, give it to me +when I've emptied the other." + +She breathed a dismayed "Yes ..." and wonderingly consulted his face, since +he did not stir other than thoughtfully to replace his pistol on the desk, +then stood staring at his soot-smeared palms. + +"What is it?" she demanded nervously. "Why do you hesitate?" + +As one fretted by inconsequential questions, he merely shook his head, +glancing sidelong once at the unconscious Prussian, again with calculation +toward the door. + +This he saw quivering under repeated blows. + +With brusque decision he said: "Get a chair--brace it beneath the +door-knob, please!"--and leaving her without more explanation turned back +to the fireplace. + +Motionless, in dumb confusion, the girl stood staring after him till roused +by a blow of such splintering force as to suggest that an axe had been +brought into play upon the door, then ran to a ponderous club chair and +with considerable exertion managed to trundle it to the door and tip it +over, wedging its back beneath the knob. + +By this time it had become indisputably patent that an axe was battering +the panels. But the door, in character with the room, was a substantial +piece of workmanship and needed more than a few blows, even of an axe, to +break down its barrier of solid oak. + +She looked round to discover Lanyard kneeling beside Ekstrom, insanely--so +it seemed to the girl--engaged in blackening the upper half of the man's +face with a handful of soot. + +Unconsciously uttering a little cry of distress she sped to his side and +caught his shoulder with an importunate hand. + +"In Heaven's name, Monsieur Duchemin, what are you doing? Is this a time +for childishness--?" + +He responded with a smile of boyish mischief so genuine that her doubts of +his reason seemed all too well confirmed. + +"Making up my understudy," he said simply. And brushing his hands over the +rug to rid them of superfluous soot, Lanyard rose. "Please go back and +stand by the door--on the side of the hinges. I'll be with you in one +minute." + +Resigned to humour this lunatic whim--what else could she do?--the girl +retreated to the position designated, and watched with ever darker doubts +of his sanity, while Lanyard hurriedly drew the shells from his automatic +and carefully placed its butt in the slack grasp of Ekstrom's fingers. + +Then, lifting from a near-by table a great cut-glass bowl of flowers, the +adventurer inverted it over Ekstrom's body. + +Expending its full force upon the man's chest, that miniature deluge +splashed widely, wetting his face, half filling his open mouth. Some of +the soot was washed away, but not a great deal: enough stuck fast to suit +Lanyard's purpose. + +Roused by that cool shock, half strangled as well, Ekstrom coughed +violently, squirmed, spat out a mouthful of water, and lifted on an elbow, +still more than half dazed. + +Joining the girl by the door, Lanyard saw the Prussian sit up and glare +blankly round the room, a figure of tragic fun, drenched, woefully +disfigured, eyes rolling wildly in the wide spaces round them which Lanyard +had left unblackened. + +Swinging the club chair away from the door, the adventurer placed it with +its back to the room. + +"Get down behind that," he indicated shortly, and drew the key from his +pocket. "Don't show yourself for your life. And let me have that pistol, +please." + +A bright triangular wedge of steel broke through one of the panels as he +fitted and turned the key in the lock. + +His wits clearing, Ekstrom saw him and with a howl of fury staggered to his +feet, clutching the unloaded pistol and endeavouring to level it for steady +aim. + +Simultaneously Lanyard turned the knob and let the door fly open, remaining +beside the chair that hid the girl. + +A knot of spies, O'Reilly and Velasco among them, whirled into the room, +pulled up at sight of that strange, grim figure, disguised beyond all +recognition by its half-mask of black, facing and menacing them with a +pistol. + +O'Reilly fired in the next breath, his shot echoed by half a dozen so +closely bunched as to resemble the rattle of a mitrailleuse. + +At the first report the pistol dropped from Ekstrom's grasp. He carried a +hand vaguely to his throat, staggered a single step, uttered a strangled +moan, and fell forward, his body fairly riddled, his death little short of +instantaneous. + +While the fusillade was still resounding Lanyard, seizing the girl's wrist, +unceremoniously dragged her from behind the chair and thrust her through +the door, retreating after her with his face to the roomfull, his pistol +ready. + +None of that lot paid him any heed, the attention of all wholly absorbed by +the tragedy their violent hands had wrought. Velasco, the first to stir, +ran forward and dropped to his knees beside the dead man. Others followed. + +Gently Lanyard drew the door to, locked it on the outside, and at the sound +of a choking cry from Cecelia Brooke, whirled smartly round, prepared if +need be to make good his promise to clear with gun-play a way to the street +though opposed by every inmate of the establishment. + +But the first face he saw was Crane's. + +The Secret Service man stood within a yard. To him as to a rock of refuge +Cecelia Brooke had flown, to his hand she was clinging like a frightened +child, trying to speak, failing because she choked on sobs and gasps of +horror. + +Behind him, on the landing at the head of the staircase, running up from +below, ascending to the upper storeys, were a score' or more of men of +sturdy and business-like bearing and indubitably American stamp. Of +these two were herding into a corner a little group of frightened German +servants. + +Lanyard's stare of astonishment was met by Crane's twisted smile. + +"My friend," he said, as quietly as anyone could with his accent of a +quizzical buzz-saw, "I sure got to hand it to you. Every time I try to pull +anything off on the dead quiet you beat me to it clean. Everywhere I think +you ain't and can't be, that's just where you are. But I ain't complaining; +I got to admit, if you hadn't staged your act to occupy the minds of those +gents in there, we might've had a lot more difficulty raiding this joint." + +Quickly he wound an arm round the waist of Cecelia Brooke when, without +warning, she swayed blindly and would have fallen. + +"Here, now!" he protested. "That's no way to do.... Why, she's flickered +out! Well, Monsieur Duchemin-Lanyard-Ember, to a man up a tree this looks +like your job. You take this little lady off my hands and see her home, and +I'll just naturally try and finish what I started--or what you did. For, +son, I got to give you credit: you sure are one grand li'l trouble-hound!" + + + + +XXI + +QUESTION + + +Through the breathing hush of that dark hour which foreruns the dawn, that +hour in which the head that knows a wakeful pillow is prone to sudden +and disquieting apprehension of its insignificance and it's soul's dread +isolation, the cab sped swiftly south upon the Avenue, shadowed reaches of +the park upon its right, upon its left the dull, tired faces of those homes +whose tenants lay wrapped in the cotton-wool of riches. + +The rain had ceased. A little wind was blowing up. There was a fresh +smell in the air. Sidewalks began to be maculated with spreading areas of +dryness, but the roadway was still wet and shining, the wide black mirror +of a myriad lights. + +Through the windows of the speeding cab an orderly procession of street +lamps, marching past, threw each its fugitive and pallid glimmer. Periods +of modified darkness intervened, when the face of the girl in her corner +seemed a vision subtle and wraithlike. But ever the recurrent lights +revealed her sweetly incarnate if deep in enervation of crushing weariness. + +Once she stirred and sighed profoundly; and Lanyard, bending toward her, +asked if he could be in any way of service. + +She replied in an undertone scarcely better than a whisper: "Thank you, I +am quite comfortable.... Please--what time is it?" + +The cab was passing Sixtieth Street. Lanyard caught a fleeting glimpse of a +street clock with a dial like a little golden moon. + +"It's just four." + +"Thank you...." + +"Very tired?" + +"Very...." + +He had the maddest notion that her head inclined to droop toward his +shoulder. Perhaps the motion of the cab.... If so, she recovered easily. + +"Can I do anything?" + +"No, thank you, only ..." An ungloved hand stirred from her lap and for +the merest instant rested lightly above his own, or hovered rather, barely +touching it with a touch tenuous and elusive, no sooner realised than gone. +"I mean," she murmured, "I am a bit too overwrought, too tired, to talk." + +"I quite understand," he said. "Please forget I'm here; just rest." + +Perhaps she smiled drowsily. Or was that, too, a freak of his imagination? +Lanyard assured himself it was, in excess of consideration even tried to +persuade himself he had dreamed that ghost of a caress upon his hand. It +seemed so little like her. + +Not that anything had happened more than a gesture of transient +inadvertence due to fatigue. It could not have been intentional, that act +of intimacy, when the girl was altogether engrossed in young Thackeray. + +There was something one must not forget, something that gave the lie flatly +to that innuendo of the Weringrode's. Ignorant of the circumstances the +intrigante had leaped blindly at conclusions, after the habit of her kind. + +True, Sophie had not implied that this girl cared for him, but vice versa: +either supposition, however, was as absurd as the other. As if Lanyard +could love a woman who loved another! As if the name of love meant aught +to him but the memory of a sweetness like a vagrant air of Spring that had +breathed fitfully for a season upon the Winter of his heart! + +A corner of Lanyard's mouth lifted in a sneer. That precious heart of +his! the heart of a thief upon which even now the fruits of his thieving +weighed.... + +Irritated, he wrenched his thoughts into another channel, and began to +piece together inconsecutive snatches of information gained from Crane +in the confusion of the quarter hour just past, while the Secret Service +operatives were busy rounding up the inmates of that spy-fold and searching +for evidences of their impudent activities. + +It appeared that Washington had at length, however tardily, roused out of +its inertia and at midnight had telegraphed instructions to arrest out +of hand every enemy alien in the land against whom there was evidence of +conspiracy or even a ponderable suspicion. + +So unexpected was this order that Crane had volunteered to show Cecelia +Brooke that midnight rendezvous of the Prussian spy system without the +least notion that he might be required before morning to lead a raiding +force against the establishment; and even when a messenger stopped him as +he turned to enter Au Printemps, he was not advised concerning the cause of +this demand for his immediate presence at headquarters. + +The first cast of what Crane aptly termed the dragnet had brought in the +management and service staff to a man, with a number of the restaurant's +habitues, including Sophie Weringrode and her errand-boy, the exquisite Mr. +Revel. + +Velasco, however, had somehow mysteriously managed to slip through the +meshes and had straightway hastened to spread the alarm. + +As for O'Reilly and Dressier, they had left with Ekstrom in pursuit of +Lanyard less than five minutes before, and so had escaped not only arrest +but all knowledge of the raid prior to their return to Seventy-ninth +Street. + +The second cast of the net had been made at the latter place as soon as +the watchers were able to assure Crane that Ekstrom and O'Reilly had +returned--Dressier having anticipated them there by something like half an +hour. + +By daybreak, then, these gentry would be interned on Ellis Island.... + +And break of day impended visibly in grayish shades that stole westward +through the cross-town streets like clouds of secret agents spying out the +city against invasion by the serried lances of the sun. + +A garish twilight washed Forty-second Street from wall to wall by the time +the car swung round in front of the Knickerbocker. As yet, however, there +was little evidence that the town was growing restive in its sleep with +premonition of the ardour of another day. + +Lanyard stepped down and offered the girl a hand in whose palm her slender +fingers rested lightly for an instant ere she passed on, while he turned to +bid the driver wait. Following, he overtook her in the entrance, where by +tacit consent both paused and lingered in an odd constraint. There was so +much to be said that was impossible to say just then. + +Visibly the woman drooped, betraying physical exhaustion in every line of +her pose, seeming scarcely strong enough to lift the silken lashes that +trembled upon cheeks a little drawn and pale, with the faintest of bluish +rings beneath the eyes. + +"I must not keep you," Lanyard broke the silence. "I merely wished to say +good-night and ... I am sorry." + +"Sorry?" she echoed. + +"That you had such an unhappy experience," he explained--"thanks to your +thoughtfulness for me. I do not deserve so much consideration; and that +only makes me feel all the more regretful." + +"It was silly of me," she admitted with a shadowy, rueful smile. "I'm +afraid my silliness makes too much trouble...." + +He commented honestly: "I don't understand." + +"If I had only been patient enough to wait for you to call me...." + +"Forgive that oversight. I was pressed for time, as you may imagine." + +"Oh, it all comes back to my own stupidity. I might have known you had come +through all right." + +"How should you?" + +"Why not?--when you turn up here in New York safe and sound after being +drowned on the _Assyrian_!--as if that were not proof enough that you bear +a charmed life!" + +"Charmed!" he laughed. + +"And you haven't yet told me how you survived that adventure." + +"You are kind to be interested, and I am unfortunate in never seeing you +save under circumstances unfavourable for yarn-spinning." + +"You might be more fortunate." + +"Only tell me how!" + +"If you cared to ask me to dine with you to-morrow--I mean, to-night--" + +"You would--?" + +He was distressed by consciousness that his voice had thrilled impetuously. +But perhaps she had not noticed; there was no change in the even +friendliness of her tone. + +"I'm as inquisitive as any woman that ever lived. Even if I wished to, I'm +afraid I shouldn't be able to resist an invitation to hear your Odyssey." + +"Delmonico's at eight?" + +"Thank you," she said primly. + +"You make me too happy. May I call for you?" + +"Please." She offered a hand whose touch he found cool, steady, and +impersonal. "Good morning, Mr. Ember." + +He stood in a stare while she went quickly through the lobby to a waiting +elevator, then roused and went back to his cab. + +It was by daylight that he reentered his rooms and found them tenanted by +a negro boy bound and gagged, bruised and sore, and scared beyond +intelligible expression. + +Freeing him and salving his injuries bodily and spiritual with a liberal +douceur, Lanyard exacted an oath of silence, then turned him out. + +He had approximately five hours to put in somehow before his appointment +with Colonel Stanistreet at nine, and was too well versed in the lore of +late hours to think of giving any part of that time to sleep. By so doing +he would only insure a mutinous awakening, with mind and body sluggish and +unrested. If, on the other hand, he remained awake, he would go to that +interview in a state of supernormal animation exceedingly to be desired if +he were to round out this adventure without discredit. + +For its end was not yet. He had still a part to play whose lines were not +yet written, whose business remained to be invented. He neither dared +shirk that appointment, for reasons of policy, nor wished to, while there +remained reparation to be accomplished, a wrong to be righted, justice to +be done, a question to be answered. + +Only when these matters had been put in order would he feel his honour +discharged of its burdens, himself free once more to drop out and go in +peace his lonely ways in life, ways henceforth to be both lonely and +aimless. + +For, when he strove to peer into the future, only an emptiness confronted +him. With Ekstrom accounted for finally and forevermore, there was nothing +to come but the final accounting of the Lone Wolf with that civilization +which had bred and suffered him. + +One way presented itself to make that reckoning even. The Foreign Legion of +France asks no embarrassing questions of its recruits, and enlistment in +its ranks offers with anonymity a consoling certainty. + +Thus alone might he find his way home to the heart of that enigma whence he +had emerged, a nameless waif astray in grim Parisian by-ways.... + +This vision of his end contenting him, he began to scheme a campaign +for the day that was simple enough in prospect: a little chicanery with +Stanistreet, a personal appeal to Crane to restore the passports of +Monsieur André Duchemin which must have been found on Ekstrom's body, a +berth on some steamer sailing for Europe, then the last evanishment. + +One detail alone troubled him, his promise to the Brooke girl that she +should dine with him that night. + +Reminded of this obligation, figuratively he seized Michael Lanyard by the +scruff of his neck and shook him with a savage hand. What insensate folly +was ever his, what want of wit and strength to keep out of temptation's +ways! Why must he have fallen in so readily with her suggestion? Why this +infatuate thirst for sympathy, this eagerness to violate the seals of +reticence at the wish of a strange woman? Was there any reasonable +explanation of the strange lack of his wonted self-sufficiency in the +company of Cecelia Brooke? + +No matter. If he might not contrive somehow to squirm out of that +engagement, he could at all events school himself to decent reticence. He +promised himself to make his account of the submarine adventure drearily +bald and trite, to minimize to the last degree his part therein, above all +things to refrain from painting the Lone Wolf in romantic colours. + +She was much too good a sort, too straight, sincere, fair-minded, +honest--the sort of girl who deserved the Thackeray sort of man, never a +thief. + +If she even dreamed.... + +Lanyard brought forth from its hiding place the necklace, weighed it in +his hand, examined it minutely. Granting its marvellous perfection, he +recognized no more its beauty, dispassionately reviewed in turn each stone +of matchless loveliness, no more susceptible to their seductive purity, +perceiving in them nothing but hard, bright, translucent pebbles, cold, +soulless, cruel. + +One by one they slipped through his fingers like beads of an unholy rosary. + +At length, crushing them together in the hollow of his palm, he stood a +while in thought, then turning to his writing-desk bundled the necklace in +wrappings of white tissue secured with rubber bands, counted carefully the +sheaf of bills he had taken from Ekstrom, sealed the whole amount in a +plain, long envelope, and put this aside in company with the necklace. + +Already two hours had passed and, since he meant to call at the house on +West End Avenue well in advance of the hour when Cecelia Brooke might be +there--presuming Blensop to have given her the same appointment as he had +given "Mr. Ember," that is, nine o'clock--it was now time to prepare. + +Returning to his bedchamber, he laid out a carefully selected change of +clothing, shaved, parboiled himself in a hot bath, chilled him to the +pith in one of icy coldness, and dressed with scrupulous heed to detail, +studiously effacing every sign of his sleepless night. + +That experience was in no way to be surmised from his appearance when he +sallied forth to breakfast at the Plaza. + +At eight precisely, presenting himself at the Stanistreet residence, he +desired the footman to announce him as the author of a certain telegram +from Edgartown. + +He was obliged to wait less than a minute, the footman returning in haste +to request him to step into the library. + +This apartment--which he found much as he had last seen it, eight hours +ago, its window shattered, the portičres down, the furniture in some +disorder--was, on his introduction, occupied by two persons, one an +elderly, iron-gray gentleman of untidy dress and unobtrusive habit in spite +of a discerning cool, gray eye, the other Mr. Blensop in the neatest of +one-button morning-coat effects, with striped trouserings neither too smart +nor too sober for that state of life unto which it had pleased God to call +him, and fair white spats. + +If his attire was radiant, so was the temper of the secretary sunny. He +tripped forward in sprightliest fashion, offering cordial hands to the +caller till he recognized him, and even then was discountenanced only for +the briefest moment. + +"My dear Mr. Ember!" he purred soothingly--"why didn't you tell me last +night it was you who had sent that telegram? If I had for a moment +suspected the truth you should have had your appointment with Colonel +Stanistreet at any hour you might have cared to name, no matter how +ungodly!" + +Lanyard bowed gravely. "Thank you," he said. "And Colonel Stanistreet--?" + +"Is just finishing breakfast. He will be down directly. Please be seated, +make yourself entirely at ease. And will you excuse me--?" + +"With pleasure," Lanyard assured him, his gravity unbroken. + +A doubt clouded Mr. Blensop's bright eyes, but its transit was +instantaneous. He turned forthwith to join the iron-gray man before the +portrait which concealed the safe. + +"And now, Mr. Stone," said Mr. Blensop, with indulgence. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Stone quietly, "if you'll be good enough to show me +how this contraption works, maybe I'll find out something interesting, +maybe not." + +Mr. Blensop proceeded to oblige by operating the lever and sliding aside +the portrait. + +"Thanks," said Mr. Stone, producing a magnifying glass from a waistcoat +pocket and beginning to peer myopically at the face of the safe. "I take +it nobody's been pawing over this since the late, as you might say, +unpleasantness?" + +"Not a soul has touched it. By Colonel Stanistreet's order it was covered +as soon as we found it had been tampered with." + +"_Um-m_," Mr. Stone acknowledged, bending close to his work. + +Partially, perhaps, by way of administering an urbane rebuke to Lanyard for +his readiness to dispense with his society, Mr. Blensop remained in +the neighbourhood of Mr. Stone, hovering round him like a domesticated +humming-bird. + +"Do you find anything?" he enquired, when Stone straightened up. + +"Fingerprints a-plenty," Mr. Stone admitted with a hint of temper--"a slew +of the damn things. Looks like you must've called in the neighbours to help +make a good show. However, we'll see what we can make of 'em." + +He conjured from some recess in his clothing a squat bottle, from another a +stopper in which was fitted a blowpipe, joined the two together, approached +the safe with one end of the pipe between his lips and sprayed it with a +thin film of white powder, the contents of the bottle. + +"I say, do tell me what that's for?" + +"That," said Mr. Stone patiently, "is to make the fingerprints stand out, +so we can get a good likeness of 'em." + +He put the bottle aside, blinked at the safe approvingly, and by further +exercise of powers of legerdemain materialized a pocket kodak and a +flashlight pistol. + +"Can't I help you?" Blensop offered eagerly. "I used to be rather a dab at +amateur photography, you know." + +"Well, I'm kind of stuck on pressing the button myself," Stone confessed, +adjusting the focus. "But if you want to work that flashlight, I don't +mind." + +"Delighted," Mr. Blensop asserted. "How does it go, now?" + +"Like this." Stone set his camera down to demonstrate. "Now just stand +behind me," he concluded, "and pull the trigger when I say 'now'." + +"I'll do my best, but--I say--will it bang?" + +Stone had taken up the camera once more. His sole answer was a grunt upon +which his hearers placed two distinct interpretations--Lanyard's affording +him considerable gratification. + +"If you're ready," said Stone--"_now_" + +Mr. Blensop squinted unbecomingly and pressed the trigger. A vivid flare +lifted from the pan of the pistol, and winked out in a cloud of vapour, +slowly dissipating. + +"Is that all?" + +"Yes, sir--that's all of that." Stone stowed the camera away about his +person and from another cranny produced a small cardboard box of glass +slides, one of which he offered. "Now if you'll just run your fingers +through your hair and rest them on this slide, light but steady...." + +"What for?" Blensop demanded with a giggle of nervous reluctance. "You +don't think I'm the thief, do you?" + +"No, sir, I don't. But if I haven't got your fingerprints, how am I going +to tell them from the thief's?" + +"Oh, I see," Blensop said with a note of allayed apprehension, and put +himself on record. + +The door opening to admit Colonel Stanistreet, Lanyard rose. At sight of +him the Englishman checked and stared enquiringly, his eyes shadowed by +careworn brows; for it was apparent that, if the events of the night had +not depressed the spirits of the secretary, his employer had known little +sleep or none since the burglary. + +"Colonel Stanistreet," Blensop said melodiously, abandoning Stone to his +unsupervised devices, "this is Mr. Ember, the gentleman who called last +night before you got home. It appears he is the person who sent us that +telegram from Edgartown day before yesterday." + +"Indeed? Ember is not the name with which the message was signed." + +"The message was purposely left unsigned," Lanyard explained. + +Stanistreet nodded approval. "I am glad to meet you, Mr. Ember," he said, +offering a hand. "Be seated. I am most anxious first to express our +gratitude, next to learn how you came by your information." + +"You will find it an interesting story." + +"No doubt of that." Stanistreet took the desk chair, opened a cigar +humidor, and offered it. "I shall be even more interested, however," he +said with an evanescent trace of humour, "to know who the devil you are, +sir." + +"That is something I am prepared to prove to your satisfaction." + +"If you will be so good.... But excuse me for one moment." Stanistreet +turned in his chair. "Mr. Stone?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Have you finished with the safe? If so, I want my secretary to check over +its contents carefully and make sure nothing else is missing." + +"I'm all through with it, Colonel Stanistreet. Now, if you don't mind, +I'm going to mouse around and see if I can nose out anything else that's +useful." + +"That shall be entirely as you will. Now, Blensop"--Stanistreet nodded to +the secretary--"let us make certain...." + +"Yes, sir." + +Blithely Mr. Blensop addressed himself to the safe. + +"There has been an accident of some sort, Colonel Stanistreet?" Lanyard +enquired civilly, nodding toward the shattered French window. + +"A burglary, sir." + +"The criminal escaped--?" + +Stanistreet nodded. "Our watchman surprised him, and was shot for his +pains--not seriously, I'm happy to say. The burglar got himself tangled +up in that window, but extricated in time, and went over the garden wall +before we could determine which way he had taken." + +"I trust you lost nothing of value?" + +Stanistreet shrugged. "Unhappily, we did--a diamond necklace, the property +of my sister-in-law, and--ah--a document we could ill afford to part +with.... But you offered to show me credentials, I believe." + +"Such as they are," Lanyard replied. "My passports and letters were stolen +from me. But these, I think, should serve as well to prove my bona fides." + +He laid out in order upon the desk his plunder from the safe aboard the +U-boat--all but the money--the three cipher codes, the log, the diary +of the commander, the directory of German secret agents, and such other +documents as he had selected. + +The first Colonel Stanistreet took up with a dubious frown which swiftly +lightened, yielding, as he pursued his examination into the papers and +began to recognize their surpassing value to the Allied cause, to a subdued +glimmer of gratulatory excitement. + +But he was at pains to satisfy himself as to the authenticity of each paper +in turn, providing a lull for which Lanyard was not ungrateful since it +gave him a chance to adjust his understanding to an unexpected development +in the affair. + +He lounged at ease, smoking, his eyes, half-veiled by lowered lids, keenly +reviewing the room and its tenants. + +Stone, the detective (an operative, Lanyard rightly inferred, of the +American Secret Service, loaned to the British in order to keep the +burglary out of police records and newspapers), had wandered out into the +garden that glowed with young April sunlight beyond the windows. From +time to time he was to be seen stooping and inspecting the earth with the +gravity of an earnest, efficient, sober-sided sleuth of the old school. + +Blensop was busy before the safe, extracting the contents of each +pigeonhole in turn, thumbing its dockets of papers, checking each off upon +a typewritten list several pages in length. + +To that lithe and debonair figure Lanyard's gaze oftenest reverted. + +So not only had the necklace been stolen but "a document" which the British +Secret Service "could ill afford to part with"! + +Lanyard entertained no least doubt as to the identity of the document in +question. There could be but one, he felt, which Stanistreet would so +characterize. + +That document had not been in the safe when Lanyard had opened it at +midnight. + +After a moment Mr. Blensop uttered a musical note of vexation. The lead of +his pencil had broken. He threw it pettishly aside, came over to the desk, +took up a penholder, dipped it in the ink-well, and returned to his task. + + + + +XXII + +CHICANE + + +Colonel Stanistreet put down the last of the papers and slapped his hand +upon it resoundingly. + +"This is one of the most remarkable collections of data, I venture to +assert, that has ever come into the hands of the British Government. Have +you any idea of its value?" + +Lanyard lifted a whimsical eyebrow. "Some," he admitted drily. + +"And what do you ask for it, sir?" + +"Nothing." + +The gaze of the Englishman bored into his eyes; but he met their challenge +with an unshaken countenance, smiling. + +"My dear sir," Stanistreet demanded--"who are you?" + +"The name under which I sailed for New York on board the _Assyrian_," +Lanyard announced quietly, "was André Duchemin." + +Disturbed by a startled exclamation, together with a sound of shuffling and +a slight thump, he looked round in mild curiosity to see Blensop staggered +and astare, standing over a litter of documents which had slipped from his +grasp to the floor. Mastering his emotion quickly enough, the secretary +knelt with a mumbled apology and began to pick up the papers. + +With no more notice of the incident Lanyard returned undivided attention to +Colonel Stanistreet. + +"I had another name," he confessed, "and a reputation none too savoury, +as, I daresay, you know. Through the courtesy of the British Intelligence +Office I was permitted to disguise these; but on the _Assyrian_ I was +recognized--in short, ran afoul of German Secret Service agents who knew +me, but whom I did not know. On the sixth night out circumstances conspired +to make me seem a serious obstacle to their schemes. Consequently I was +waylaid, robbed, and thrown overboard. Within the next few minutes a +torpedo struck the ship and the submarine which fired it came up under me +as I struggled to keep afloat. By passing myself off as a Boche spy, I +succeeded in inducing the commander to take me below, and so reached the +Martha's Vineyard base. There chance played into my hands: I contrived to +sink the U-boat and escape, as reported in my telegram." + +During a brief silence he found opportunity to observe that Mr. Blensop was +working with hands that trembled singularly. + +"Incredible!" Stanistreet commented. + +"Yet here is proof," Lanyard asserted, indicating the papers beneath +Stanistreet's hand. + +"My dear sir, I didn't mean--" + +"Pardon!" Lanyard smiled, with a lifted hand. "I never thought you did, +Colonel Stanistreet. But it is your duty to make sure you are not imposed +upon by plausible adventurers. Therefore--since my papers have been +stolen--I am glad to be able to prove my identity with André Duchemin by +referring to survivors of the _Assyrian_ disaster, among others Mr. Sherry, +the second officer, Mr. Crane of the United States Secret Service, and a +countrywoman of yours, a Miss Cecelia Brooke, whose acquaintance I was +fortunate enough to make." + +Stanistreet nodded heavily, and consulted his watch. "Miss Brooke," he +said, "should be here shortly. Blensop made an appointment with her last +night, which I confirmed by telephone this morning." + +"Then, with permission, I shall remain and ask her to vouch for me," +Lanyard suggested in resignation, since it appeared he was not to be +permitted to escape this girl, that destiny was not yet finished with their +entanglement. + +"I shall be glad if you will, sir.... Monsieur Duchemin," Stanistreet +began, but hesitated--"or do you prefer another style?" + +"I am content with Duchemin." + +"That is a matter for your own discretion, but I should warn you it may +already have acquired an evil odour on this side. To my knowledge it has +been used within the last twenty-four hours, and the pretensions of its +wearer supported by your stolen credentials." + +"I am not surprised," Lanyard stated reflectively. "A chap with a beard, +perhaps?" + +"Why, yes...." + +"Anderson," the adventurer nodded: "that, at least, was his alias when he +jockeyed himself into the second steward's berth aboard the _Assyrian_." + +He glanced idly across the room, discovered Blensop once more at pause in a +stare, and grinned amiably. + +"He came here last night," Stanistreet volunteered deliberately-- +"representing himself as André Duchemin--to sell me a certain paper, the +same which subsequently, I am convinced, he returned to steal." + +"And did," Lanyard added. + +"And did," the Briton conceded. "Now you have told me who he is, I promise +you every effort shall be made to apprehend him and prevent further misuse +of the name you have assumed." + +"It has," Lanyard said tersely. + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"I say every effort has been made--and successfully--to accomplish the ends +you mention." + +"What's that you say?" Blensop demanded shrilly, crossing to the desk. + +"My secretary," Stanistreet explained, "was present at the interview, and +is naturally interested." + +"And very good of him, I'm sure," Lanyard agreed. "I was about to explain, +Mr. Blensop, that Ekstrom, alias Anderson, was killed in the course of +a raid on the Prussian spy headquarters in Seventy-ninth Street this +morning." + +"Amazing!" Blensop gasped. "I am glad to hear it," he added, and went +slowly back to his task. + +"I may as well tell you, sir," Lanyard pursued, "I have every reason to +believe the document sold you last night was one of those stolen from me." + +Stanistreet wagged a contentious head. + +"I cannot conceive how it could have come into your possession, sir." + +"Simply enough. Miss Brooke requested me to take care of it for her." + +The eyes of the Englishman grew stony. "Miss Brooke!" he repeated testily. +"I don't understand." + +"It was a document--I do not seek to know its nature from you, sir--of +vital importance in this present crisis, with the United States newly +entered into the war." + +Stanistreet affirmed with an inclination of his head. + +"I may tell you this much, Monsieur Duchemin: if it had not reached this +country safely.... What am I saying? If it be not recovered without delay, +the chances of America's early and efficient participation in the war will +suffer a tremendous setback ... Blensop, be good enough to call up the +American Secret Service at once and ask whether the document in question +was found on the body of this--ah--Ekstrom." + +"Pardon," Lanyard interposed as Blensop hesitantly approached the +telephone. "It would be a waste of time. I happen to know, because I was +there, that no such document was found on Ekstrom's body." + +"The devil!" Stanistreet grumbled. "What can have become of it? This +business grows only the blacker the deeper one seeks to fathom it. I +must own myself completely at a loss. How it came into the hands of Miss +Brooke--" + +"I can explain that, I think. The document was in the care of two +gentlemen, Mr. Bartholomew and Lieutenant Thackeray. The former was +murdered by the Huns in search of it, Lieutenant Thackeray murderously +assaulted. But for Miss Brooke's intervention the assassins must have +succeeded. As it was, the young woman herself found it and, one presumes, +took charge of it because her fiancé was incapacitated, and possibly with +the notion that she might thereby prevent further mischief of the same +nature." + +"Her fiancé?" Stanistreet echoed blankly. + +"Lieutenant Thackeray--" + +"Her brother, sir!" the Briton laughed. "Thackeray was his nom de service." + +It was Lanyard's turn to stare. "Ah!" he murmured. "A light begins to +dawn...." + +"Upon me as well," Stanistreet confessed. "Miss Brooke and her brother are +orphans and, before the war, were inseparable companions. I do not doubt +that, learning he had been commissioned with an uncommonly perilous errand, +she booked passage by the _Assyrian_ without his consent, in order to be +near him in event of danger." + +"This explains much," Lanyard conceded--"much that perplexed more than one +can say." + +"But in no way advances us on the trail of the purloined document." + +"I am afraid, sir," Lanyard lied deliberately, "you may as well abandon all +hope of ever seeing it again. Ekstrom made away with it: no question about +that. There was time enough and to spare between his exploit here and his +death for him to deliver it to safe hands. It is doubtless decoded by this +time, a copy of it already well on the way to the Wilhelmstrasse." + +"I am afraid," Stanistreet echoed--"I am very much afraid you are right." + +His thick, spatulate fingers of an executive drummed heavily upon the desk. + +Stone's figure darkened the windows. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" he called diffidently. + +"Yes, Mr. Stone?" + +"There's something here I'd like to consult you about, sir, if you can +spare a minute." + +"Certainly." The Englishman rose. "If you will excuse me, Monsieur +Duchemin...." Half way to the windows he hesitated. "By the bye, Blensop, I +wish you'd call up Apthorp and ask after Howson's condition." + +"Very good, sir," Blensop intoned cheerfully. + +"And do it without delay, please. I don't like to think of the poor fellow +suffering." + +"Immediately, sir." + +As his employer passed out into the garden with Stone, the secretary +discontinued his checking and came over to the desk, drawing up a chair and +sitting down to telephone. At the same time Lanyard got up and began to +pace thoughtfully to and fro. + +"Howson is the wounded night watchman, I take it, Mr. Blensop?" + +"Yes--an excellent fellow.... Schuyler nine, three hundred," Blensop cooed +into the transmitter. + +Conceivably that ostensible discomfiture whose symptoms Lanyard had +remarked had been a transitory humour. Mr. Blensop was now in what seemed +the most equable and blithe of tempers. His very posture at the telephone +eloquently betokened as much: he had thrown himself into the chair with +picturesque nonchalance, sitting with body half turned from the desk, his +right hand holding the receiver to his ear, his left thrust carelessly +into his trouser pocket, thus dragging back the lapel of that impeccable +morning-coat and exposing the bright cap of his gold-mounted fountain pen. + +Something in that implement seemed to possess for Lanyard overpowering +fascination. His gaze yearned for it, returned again and again to it. + +He changed his course to stroll up and down behind Blensop, between him and +the safe. + +"I understood Colonel Stanistreet to say the watchman was not seriously +injured, I believe," he observed, with interest. + +"Shot through the shoulder, that is all.... Schuyler nine, three hundred? +Dr. Apthorp, please. This is Mr. Blensop speaking, secretary to Colonel +Stanistreet.... Are you there, Dr. Apthorp?" + +With professional dexterity Lanyard en passant dropped a hand over the +young man's shoulder and lightly lifted the pen from its place in the +pocket of Blensop's waistcoat; the even tempo of his step unbroken, he +tossed it toward the safe, where it fell without sound upon a heavy Persian +rug. + +"Yes--about Howson," the musical accents continued, "Colonel Stanistreet is +most solicitous...." + +Swiftly Lanyard moved toward the safe, glanced through the French windows +to assure himself that Stanistreet and Stone were safely preoccupied, +whipped out the envelope he had prepared, and thrust it into a file of +papers which did not crowd its pigeonhole; accomplishing the complete +manoeuvre with such adroitness that, like the business of the pen, it +passed utterly without the knowledge of the secretary. + +"Thank you so much. _Good_ morning, Dr. Apthorp." + +Lanyard was passing the desk when Blensop rose, and the footman was +entering with his salver. + +"A lady to see Colonel Stanistreet, sir--by appointment, she says." + +Blensop glanced at the card. At the same time Stanistreet came in from the +garden, leaving Stone to potter about visibly in the distance. + +"Miss Brooke is here, sir," the secretary announced. + +"Ask her to come in, please." + +The footman retired. + +"Howson is resting easily, Dr. Apthorp reports," Blensop added, going back +to the safe. "Has Stone turned up anything of interest, sir?" + +"Footprints," Stanistreet replied with a snort of moderate impatience. +"He's quite upset since I've informed him the man who made them is--" + +"_Good God_!" + +The interruption was Blensop's in a voice strangely out of tune. +Stanistreet wheeled sharply upon him. + +"What the deuce--!" he snapped. + +By every indication the secretary had suffered the most severe shock of his +experience. His face was ghastly, his eyes vacant; his knees shook beneath +him; one hand pressed convulsively the bosom of his waistcoat. His +endeavours to reply evoked only a husky, rattling sound. + +"What the devil has come over you?" Stanistreet insisted. + +The rattle became articulate: "I've lost it! It's gone!" + +"What have you lost?" + +"N-nothing, sir. That is--I mean to say--my fountain pen." + +"The way you take it, I should say you'd lost your head," Stanistreet +commented. "You must have dropped the thing somewhere. Look about, see if +you can't find it." + +Thus admonished, the secretary began to search the floor with frantic +glances, and as the footman ushered in Cecelia Brooke, Lanyard saw the +young man dart forward and retrieve the pen with a start of relief wellnigh +as unmanning as the shock of loss had seemed. + +With that Lanyard's interest in the fellow waned; he was too poor a thing +to consider seriously; while here was one who compelled anew, as ever when +they met, the homage of sincere and marvelling admiration. + +Yet another of those miracles of feminine adaptability and makeshift had +brought the girl to this meeting in the guise of one who had never known a +broken night or an hour's care, with a look of such fresh tranquility that +it seemed hardly possible she could be one and the same with that wilted +little woman whom Lanyard had left in the gray dawn at the entrance to the +Hotel Knickerbocker. A tailored suit, necessarily borrowed plumage, became +her so completely that it was difficult to believe it not her own. Her eyes +were calm and sweet with candour; her colour was a clear and artless glow; +the hand she offered the Briton was tremorless. + +"Colonel Stanistreet?" + +"I am he, Miss Brooke. It is kind of you to call so early to relieve my +mind about your brother. I have known Lionel so long...." + +"He is resting easily," said the girl. "His complete recovery is merely a +matter of time and nursing." + +"That is good news," said Stanistreet. "Monsieur Duchemin I believe you +know." + +"I have been fortunate in that at least." + +Gravely Lanyard saluted the hand extended to him in turn. "Mademoiselle is +most gracious," he said humbly. + +"Then--I understand--Monsieur Duchemin must have told you--?" The girl +addressed Stanistreet. + +"Permit me to leave you--" Lanyard interposed. + +"No," she begged--"please not! I've nothing to say that you may not hear. +You have been too much involved--" + +"If mademoiselle insists," Lanyard demurred. "I feel it is not right I +should stay. And yet--if you will indulge me--I should like very much to +demonstrate the truth of an old saw...." + +Two confused looks were his response. + +"I fear I, for one, do not follow," Stanistreet admitted. + +"I will explain quite briefly," Lanyard promised. "The adage I have in mind +is as old as human wit: Set a thief to catch a thief. And the last time it +was quoted in my hearing, it was not to my advantage. I recall, indeed, +resenting it enormously." + +He paused with purpose, looking down at the desk. A pad of blank paper +caught his eye. He took it up and examined it with an abstracted manner. + +"Well, monsieur: the application of your adage?" + +"Colonel Stanistreet, what would you think if I were to tell you the +combination of your safe?" + +"I should be inclined to suspect that you were the devil," Stanistreet +chuckled. + +"By all accounts a gentleman of intelligence: one is flattered.... Very +well: I proceed to demonstrate black art with the aid of this white +paper pad. The combination, monsieur, is as follows: nine, twenty-seven, +eighteen, thirty-six." + +A low cry of bewilderment greeted this announcement. Blensop had drawn near +and was eyeing Lanyard as if under the influence of hypnotism. + +"How--how do you know that?" he asked in a broken voice. + +"Clairvoyance, Mr. Blensop. I seem to see, as I hold this pad, somebody +writing upon it the combination for the information of another who had no +right to have it--somebody using a pencil with a hard lead, Mr. Blensop; +which was very foolish of him, since it made a distinct impression on the +under sheet. So you see my magic is rather colourless, after all.... Now, +a wiser man, Mr. Blensop, would have used a pen, a fountain pen by +preference, with a soft gold nib, well broken. That would leave no +impression. If you will lend me the beautiful pen I observe in your pocket, +I will give a further demonstration." + +The eyes of the secretary shifted wildly. He hesitated, moistening dry lips +with the tip of a nervous tongue. + +"And don't try to get out of it, Mr. Blensop, because I am armed and don't +mean to let you escape. Besides, that good Mr. Stone patrols the garden." +Lanyard's tone changed to one of command. "That pen, monsieur!" + +Blensop's hand faltered to his waistcoat pocket, hesitated, withdrew, and +feebly extended the pen. + +"I think you _are_ the devil," he stammered in an under-tone--"the devil +himself!" + +Deftly unscrewing the pen-point, Lanyard inverted the barrel above the +desk. + +The cylinder of paper dropped out. + +"And now, Colonel Stanistreet, if you will call Mr. Stone and have this +traitor removed...." + + + + +XXIII + +AMNESTY + + +When Stanistreet had gone out in company with Stone, and the broken, +weeping Blensop, ending a scene indescribably painful, a lull almost as +uncomfortable to Lanyard ensued. + +Then--"How did you guess?" Cecelia Brooke asked in wonder. + +Discountenanced by the admiration glowing in her eyes, Lanyard stood +fumbling with the disjointed members of Blensop's pen. + +"Do not give me too much credit," he depreciated: "anybody acquainted with +that roll of paper could have guessed that an empty fountain pen would +furnish an ideal place of concealment for it. Moreover, just before you +came in, that traitor missed his pen, and his consternation betrayed him +beyond more doubt to one whose distrust was already astir. As for the +other, it was true: Blensop did write down the combination on this pad, +using a pencil with a hard lead; the marks are very plain." + +"But for whose use?" + +"Ekstrom--Anderson--was here last night, and saw Blensop alone. Colonel +Stanistreet was not at home. Knowing what we know now, that Blensop was +a creature of the German system here, bought body, soul, and conscience +through its studied pandering to his vices, we know he could not well have +refused to surrender the combination on demand." + +"Still I fail to understand...." + +"Ekstrom, being Ekstrom, could not resist the opportunity to play double. +Here was a property he could sell to England at a stiff price. Why not +despoil the enemy, put the money in pocket, then return, steal the paper +anew for the use of Germany, and collect the stipulated reward from that +source? But he reckoned without Blensop's avarice, there; he showed Blensop +too plainly the way to profit through betraying both parties to a bargain; +Blensop saw no reason why he should not play the game that Ekstrom played. +So he stole it for himself, to sell to Germany, but being a poor, witless +fool, lacking Ekstrom's dash and audacity, was foredoomed to failure and +exposure." + +The girl continued to eye him steadfastly, and he as steadfastly to evade +her direct gaze. + +"Nothing that you tell me detracts from the wonder of your guessing so +accurately," she insisted. "Now I know what Mr. Crane said of you was true, +that you are one of the most extraordinary of men." + +"He was too kind when he said that," Lanyard protested wretchedly. "It is +not true. If you must know...." + +"Well, Monsieur Lanyard?" + +Her tone was that of a light-hearted girl, arch with provocation. Of a +sudden Lanyard understood that he might no longer stop here alone with her. + +"If you will be a little indulgent with me," he suggested, "I will try to +explain what I mean." + +"And how indulgent, monsieur?" + +"I have a whim to take the air in this garden. Will you accompany me?" + +"Why not?" + +As she led the way through the French windows, he noted with deeper +misgivings how her action matched the temper of her voice, how she seemed +to-day more deliciously alive and happier than any common mortal. + +So light her heart! And all since she had found him here! + +At his wits' ends, he conceded now what he had so long denied. With all her +wit and wisdom, with all her charm of beauty, winsomeness, and breeding, +with all her ingrained love of truth and honesty, she was no more than +Nature had meant her to be, a woman with woman's weakness for the man +she must admire. She liked him, divined in him latent qualities somehow +excellent. Something in him worked upon her imagination, something, no +doubt, in the overcoloured, romantic yarns current about the Lone Wolf, +and so had touched her heart. She liked him too well already, and she was +willing to like him better. + +But that must never be. He must rend ruthlessly apart this illusion of +romance with which she chose to transfigure the prowling parasite of night, +the sneaking thief.... + +The garden was sweet with the bright promise of Spring. A few weeks more, +and its formal walks would wend a riot of flowers. Now its sunlight made +amends for what it lacked in beauty of growing things; and its air was warm +and fragrant and still in the shelter of the red-brick walls. + +Midway down that walk, by the side of which a thief had skulked nine hours +ago, near that door whose lock had yielded to his cunning keys, the girl +paused and confronted Lanyard spiritedly as he came up with heavy step and +hang-dog head. + +"Well, monsieur?" she demanded. "Do you mean to tantalize me longer with +your reticence?" + +But something in the haggard eyes he showed her made the girl catch her +breath. + +"What is it?" she cried anxiously. "Monsieur Duchemin, what is your +trouble?" + +"Only this truth that I must tell you," he said bitterly: "I merely played +a part back there, just now. There was neither wit nor guess-work in that +business; once I had seen Blensop's panic over the fancied loss of his pen, +the rest was knowledge. I saw him and Ekstrom together last night--skulking +in those windows, I watched them; and though in my denseness I didn't +understand, I saw him write upon that pad, tear off and give the sheet to +Ekstrom. And I knew Ekstrom had not succeeded in stealing back what he had +sold to Colonel Stanistreet, knew he was guiltless in fact if not in deed." + +"But--how could you know that?" + +"Because I was there, in the room, when he entered it after it had been +shut up for the night." + +Conscious of her hands that fluttered like wounded things to her bosom, he +looked away in misery. + +"What were you doing there?" she whispered in the end. + +"Trying to find that paper, which I had seen Ekstrom sell to Colonel +Stanistreet, so that I might make good my promise and relieve your distress +by returning it to you. I had opened the safe before he entered, and +searched it thoroughly, and knew the paper was not there--though at that +time it never entered my thick head to suspect Blensop of treachery. It +was neither Blensop nor Ekstrom, Miss Brooke ... it was I who stole that +necklace." + +She made no sound and did not stir; and though he dared not look he knew +her stricken gaze was steadfast to his face. + +"I will say this much in my defence: I did not come with intent to steal, +but only to take back what had been stolen from me, and return it to you, +who had trusted it to my care. I wanted to do that, because I did not then +understand the ins and outs of this intrigue, and had no means of knowing +how deeply your honour might be involved." + +"But you did _not_ take that necklace!" + +"I am sorry.... I saw it, and could not resist it." + +"But Mr. Crane assured me you had given up all that sort of thing years +ago!" + +"Notwithstanding that, it seems I may not be trusted...." + +After another trying silence she declared vehemently: "I do not believe +you! You say this thing for some secret purpose of your own. For some +reason I can't understand you wish to abase yourself in my sight, to make +me think you capable of such infamy. Why--ah, monsieur!--why must you do +this?" + +"Because it isn't fair to represent myself as what I am not, mademoiselle. +Once a thief, always--" + +"No! It isn't true!" + +"Again I am sorry, but I know. You have been most generous to believe in +me. If anything could save me from myself, it would be your confidence. +That, I presume, is why I felt called upon to undo my thieving, and make +good the loss. The money Colonel Stanistreet paid Ekstrom is now in the +safe, back there in the library. The necklace is ... here." + +Blindly he thrust the tissue packet into her hands. + +"If you will consent to return it to its owner, when I have gone, I shall +be most grateful." + +Her hands shook so that, when she would open the packet, it escaped her +grasp and dropped into a little pool of rain-water which had collected in +a hollow of the walk. Lanyard picked it up, stripped off the soiled and +sodden paper, dried the necklace with his handkerchief, replaced it in her +hand. + +He heard the deep intake of her breath as she recognized its beauty, then +her quavering voice: "You give this back because of me...!" + +"Because I cannot be an ingrate. I know no other way to prove how I have +prized your faith in me.... And now, with your leave, I will go away +quietly by this garden gate--" + +"No--please, no!" + +"But--" + +"I have more to say to you. It isn't fair of you to go like this, when I--" + +She interrupted herself, and when next she spoke he was dashed by a change +in her voice from a tone of passionate expostulation to one of amused +animation. + +"Colonel Stanistreet!" she called clearly. "Do come here at once, please!" + +Startled, Lanyard saw that Stanistreet had appeared in the French windows +in company with Crane. In response to Cecelia's hail both came out into the +garden, Stanistreet briskly leading, Crane lounging at his heels, champing +his cigar, his weathered features knitted against the brightness of the +sun. + +"Good morning, Miss Brooke. Howdy, Lanyard--or are you Duchemin again?" he +said; but his salutations were lost in the wonder excited by the girl's +next move. + +"See, Colonel Stanistreet, what we have found!" she cried, and showed him +the necklace. "I mean, what Monsieur Duchemin found. It was he who saw it, +lying beneath that rose-bush over there. Your burglar must have dropped it +in making his escape; you can see the paper he wrapped it in, all rain-wet +and muddied." + +Stanistreet's eyes protruded alarmingly, and his face grew very red before +he found breath enough to ejaculate: "God bless my soul!" Breathing hard, +he accepted the necklace from Cecelia's hands. "I must--excuse me--I must +tell my sister-in-law about this immediately!" + +He turned and trotted hastily back into the house. + +Crane lingered but a moment longer. His cheek, as ever, was bulging round +his everlasting cigar. Was his tongue therein as well? Lanyard never knew; +the man's eyes remained inscrutable for all the kindly shrewdness that +glimmered amid their netted wrinkles. + +"Excuse _me_!" he said suddenly. "I got to tell the colonel something." + +He got lankily into motion and presently passed in through the windows.... + +Irresistibly her gaze drew Lanyard's. He lifted careworn eyes and realized +her with a great wistfulness upon him. + +She awaited in silence his verdict, her chin proudly high, her face +adorably flushed, her shining eyes level and brave to his, her generous +hands outstretched. + +"Must you go now?" she said tenderly, as he stood hesitant and shamed. +"Must you go now, my dear?" + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The False Faces, by Vance, Louis Joseph + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE FACES *** + +This file should be named 8flfc10.txt or 8flfc10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8flfc11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8flfc10a.txt + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, +Tom Allen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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