she ran right into the danger she meant to flee. He caught her inhis arms. He held heethereum coin wikipediar irresistibly. "I have got her; I have gother," he shouted in wild triumph. "No! I will not let you go. Nonebut God shall ever take you from me, and he has spared you to me.
In some epochs spirits as hardy as Raynal's, and wits as quick asRiviere's, would have fled then and there to the nearest public, andtold over cups how they had heard the dames of Beaurepaire, longsince dead, holding their revel, and the conscious old devil's nestof a chateau quivering to the ghostly strains.ethereum etf comparisonBut this was an incredulous age. They listened, and listened, anddecided the sounds came from up-stairs.
"Let us mount, and surprise these singing witches," said Edouard."Surprise them! what for? It is not the enemy--for once. What isthe good of surprising our friends?"Storming parties and surprises were no novelty and therefore notreat to Raynal."It will be so delightful to see their faces at first sight of you.O colonel, for my sake! Don't spoil it by going tamely in at thefront door, after coming at night from Egypt for half an hour."Raynal grumbled something about its being a childish trick; but toplease Edouard consented at last; only stipulated for a light: "orelse," said he, "we shall surprise ourselves instead with a brokenneck, going over ground we don't know to surprise the natives--ourskirmishers got nicked that way now and then in Egypt.""Yes, colonel, I will go first with Jacintha's candle." Edouardmounted the stairs on tiptoe. Raynal followed. The solid stonesteps did not prate. The men had mounted a considerable way, whenpuff a blast of wind came through a hole, and out went Edouard'scandle. He turned sharply round to Raynal. "Peste!" said he in avicious whisper. But the other laid his hand on his shoulder andwhispered, "Look to the front." He looked, and, his own candlebeing out, saw a glimmer on ahead. He crept towards it. It was ataper shooting a feeble light across a small aperture. They caughta glimpse of what seemed to be a small apartment. Yet Edouardrecognized the carpet of the tapestried room--which was a very largeroom. Creeping a yard nearer, he discovered that it was thetapestried room, and that what had seemed the further wall was onlythe screen, behind which were lights, and two women singing a duet.He whispered to Raynal, "It is the tapestried room.""Is it a sitting-room?" whispered Raynal.
"Yes! yes! Mind and not knock your foot against the wood."And Raynal went softly up and put his foot quietly through theaperture, which he now saw was made by a panel drawn back close tothe ground; and stood in the tapestried chamber. The carpet wasthick; the voices favored the stealthy advance; the floor of the oldhouse was like a rock; and Edouard put his face through theaperture, glowing all over with anticipation of the little scream ofjoy that would welcome his friend dropping in so nice and suddenlyfrom Egypt.The feeling was rendered still more piquant by a sharp curiositythat had been growing on him for some minutes past. For why wasthis passage opened to-night?--he had never seen it opened before.The man looked at her sharply. "You'd like to get out," he asked, "to make trouble for us? That'll have to be what the master says."
"There's plenty of trouble coming," Irene replied, "whether I get out or not. But I shouldn't make any for you. I might save your life.""I'd like to know how you'd do that?""By saying that I saw the two men who'd got the taxidriver's body, and that neither of them had red hair.""I don't know that anyone's been killed. It sounds just a tale to me."
"Well; it isn't. You'll find somebody's going to get hanged. More than one, I expect. But I don't want anyone to get hanged for murdering me."The man looked at her speculatively. It had become obvious that he believed her tale, and was considering whether it would be best for himself that he should remain loyal to his employer or purchase the immunity she had offered at the price of assisting her to escape.
But as he hesitated Snacklit re-entered the room.Chapter 34 Thurlow Declines To WaitKINDELL RETURNED TO Scotland Yard to find Superintendent Allenby still sitting at his desk and Mr. Thurlow pacing restlessly across the room. It was as though he had left them for a moment only, but Mr. Thurlow showed how different it had seemed to him by the impatient exclamation: "What a time you've been! And all the while the superintendent here begging me to do nothing, and another hour nearly gone, and Irene - it doesn't bear thinking of what may be happening to her! I can only hope you've done something now!""I have a proposal from Professor Blinkwell. He might arrange for her return if he were assured that there would be no unpleasant consequences to follow."
There was satisfaction in the superintendent's eyes, as well as surprise, as he exclaimed: "You really got him to say that! It's the best day's work you've done yet.""Of course, he didn't put it into those words. He's as slippery as an eel. He said, if he were to negotiate, he would need authority to make terms of that kind.""Did he say about what? If it were only about the girl's abduction - if that's what's happened - and she were safely returned, we might possibly - I suppose he didn't say anything about drug-smuggling?""No. He did mention the Paris murder."
"Did he? That's interesting. It's very near to an admission that there is a connection between the two, even if he himself - - ""Yes. I saw that. But it might be going a bit too far. There's the Gustav angle. He knows that he's being questioned about the valise, and that he might be implicated in the murder enquiry. There's a tie-up there."
"Never mind that," Irene's father interrupted impatiently. "The question is, what you're going to do now. If you don't do something quickly, I tell you straight that I shall. It's as plain as paint that Blinkwell knows what's up, and it looks to me to be one of those times when a gun talks better than the best policeman I ever met.""You can be sure," the superintendent answered patiently, "we're not going to lose any time; but, if you think a moment, you will see that Kindell has done a great deal to relieve your anxiety and of course ours - because, after making that offer, Blinkwell will take care that nothing happens to Miss Thurlow which would make it more difficult to carry the bargain through. . . . That is, till he gets our reply. There doesn't seem to me, therefore, to be a special hurry about that. Indeed, unless it should be one which will thoroughly satisfy him, there might be an essential advantage in keeping him in suspense."
He was speaking to Kindell rather than the ambassador as he continued: "We haven't been doing exactly nothing while you've been away. We haven't had any report in yet of the two cars being seen after you left them, though we've got every available man out on that job. But I expect Gustav is being questioned in Paris now, and it's ten to one that he knows something that could put us on the right track. You can bet anything that, if he does, our friends there will find some way of making him talk."And we're enquiring about the owners of all the other cars that might have been faked to look like Miss Courtney's. That's an almost certain line of enquiry, though it may not be as quick as the occasion requires."Two of the cars of same pattern and colour recently sold were to members of the family of the Earl of Barleigh. There's not much hope there. We already know that one's in a garage in Lancashire. Another's in Belgium. Another belongs to Snacklit, the man who runs the well-known Dogs' Home. There's a chance there, but nobody'd call it good. The Divisional Superintendent says they've never had any complaint against him. Quite the other way. Still, we're taking nothing for granted. We're enquiring about his car now - where it is, and whether it's been out during the day."Another car was sold to Sellwell, the stockbroker who failed last August. He's failed twice before, and those little episodes seem to make no difference to his style of living. He's my choice, and an officer will be ringing his bell just about now."Mr. Thurlow said: "That's what we were arguing when you came in. I say a stockbroker isn't the kind. I don't care whether he's inside the Exchange or out, or whether he fails once a week. The dogs' meat man's my pigeon.""He isn't a dogs' meat man," the superintendent replied with the calmness that Thurlow had found it so hard to endure; "he keeps a Dogs' Home. Kindness to animals and all that. His father was one of the most famous philanthropists of his time. . . . Still, I've an open mind. It's a startling world. Any minute we may know now."
Even as he spoke, the telephone rang, and his two impatient companions had to wait while he listened silently to a rather long report, at the end of which he only said: "Thanks, Chorley you've done well. That's about what I expected. You'd better stand by for further orders."He had scarcely laid down the receiver, and had no time to report what had been said, before the bell rang again, and there was a second report to be received in the same way. And this time his concluding comment, though briefer, was almost in the same words. He only said: "Well, that's that. It's just about what I was expecting to hear."
Then he turned to Thurlow to say, "We've had reports in now about both Snacklit and Sellwell, and if I'd taken the bet you offered I'm afraid you'd have lost."As to Snacklit, he's had his car out during the day. Of course, you'd expect that. It would be more likely than not. But he met our enquiry reasonably, as any decent man would. Gave an account of where he'd been and why, and told us how it could be checked up if we should wish.
"Our man says he'd had a few words with someone in the yard before he asked to speak to Snacklit himself, and he gave just the same account of where the car had been."Sellwell acted differently. I'd put Chorley, one of our best men, on to him. He got into the garage first without being noticed, and he says the engine was still warm, so we know that that car had been out too. And that's all we do know. Chorley said he hadn't spoken a couple of sentences before Sellwell told him to go to hell
"Chorley isn't quick-tempered. He says he tried to take it in a good-humoured way, and get Sellwell to listen, but the man worked himself up into a vile temper, and said that if he didn't get out he'd get thrown. So he came away, but he had the sense to put a man on to watch the house before reporting to me."There's nothing conclusive, of course, in either case; but you can see which of them acted like an innocent man.""You mean Sellwell, sir?" Kindell asked. He was less sure, but he knew that Allenby was a shrewd officer, whose mistakes were few."Naturally."
"I wonder - - " Kindell began, and stopped."Wondering what? You needn't mind saying; even if it were whether I am a fool. You may be sure of that. Superintendents always are."
Allenby smiled as he said this. His reputation was too securely founded for him to be over-sensitive to criticism, nor was he of the kind to refuse to listen to a subordinate's views."I was just wondering whether you would have judged the two reports quite in the same way if you hadn't had the previous argument."
"That's how it looks to you? . . . Well, whatever I think, we'll follow them both up."Mr. Thurlow broke in impatiently: "We're getting nowhere. What I want to know is what you're going to do about Blinkwell's offer."
"I couldn't make such a deal on my own authority. Only the Home Secretary could do that. I was on the point of saying that I propose to report the matter to the Assistant Commissioner immediately, and if he thinks that such a bargain should be made he will doubtless lay the whole matter before Mr. Lambton at once. . . . I expect he'll have done that, more or less, already. . . . But, as I said before, I don't think there's any urgency about letting Blinkwell have our reply. While he's waiting, he's sure to be marking time, and that means that he'll be taking particular care of Miss Thurlow while we're pushing our enquiries on.Mr. Thurlow picked up his hat. "You must go ahead in your own way," he said, "but I'm not hanging about for an hour longer waiting for something to be turned up. I'm going to get Rene home tonight, or someone's going to have a bad time.""What do you propose to do?""See Blinkwell. And a few others, if it's still necessary after that. But I expect to find that he'll be able to do what I want. . . . Kindell, you'll do no good staying here. You'd better come with me, and be a witness of what I do."
Kindell hesitated. He looked at Superintendent Allenby. But that gentleman nodded silent assent. He had no authority to stop Mr. Thurlow, if he were determined to attempt the rescue of his daughter by his own method, and Kindell's company might be advantageous in several ways.Chapter 35 Professor Blinkwell Is Roused To Wrath
WHEN PROFESSOR BLINKWELL relayed the message to Snacklit concerning the dog with the bad ear, he was - need it be said? - concerned for himself only. He had already decided that the dog-killer's use was done, and that his liquidation must be quietly arranged so soon as this annoying episode should be ended in a way which past experiences gave him reason for feeling confident that he could contrive.Neither had he come to a final decision as to what it would be best to do about the girl whom Snacklit had so foolishly guided and admitted to his own premises, after he had allowed her to identify him as the man who had called to collect the case of illicit drugs.
But he saw the necessity of restraining Snacklit from irrevocable action before his own mind should be made up. To defer it might increase Snacklit's risk, if the car should be traced to his door, but Professor Blinkwell was not equally clear that it would increase his own, which was his single concern.He had a doubtful hope that the police would accept the offer which he had made, in view of the nationality and position of the missing girl, and he saw advantages to himself if he should appear as one who could find and rescue her when they had been foiled. It was not a tale for their own credit, that they would wish to have widely known. . . . And there would be her father's gratitude. Something could surely be made of that.