CHAPTER XIX
The startling and dramatic entrance of Richard Duvall into Mr.Stapleton's library, ending with his announcement of the whereabouts ofthe kidnapped child, and his subsequent collapse, threw the entire partyinto confusion.
Mrs. Stapleton started up with a scream, her overwrought nerves nolonger able to resist the frightful strain under which she had for somany days been laboring.
Her husband, who had completely forgotten the detective's presence inthe house, in his anxious vigil at the telephone, called out instantlyto one of the servants, ordering him to tell Francois to bring hisautomobile to the door.
Monsieur Lefevre, accompanied by Vernet, sprang quickly to Duvall'sassistance. The Prefect felt that, if the latter's statement wascorrect, he had won out in the long duel for the honor of recovering thekidnapped child; but no consideration of this nature could make him anyless concerned for the detective's welfare, or any the less thankfulthat, no matter by whose efforts, the missing child had at last beenlocated. He had hoped that to Grace Duvall would ultimately fall theprize of success; but these things were, after all, of no seriousweight, compared with the great fact, that the success had at last come.
Assisted by Vernet, he placed Duvall upon a couch, and called forbrandy, and a basin of cold water.
In a few moments, under Vernet's skilful ministrations, the detective'swound had been washed and temporarily bound up, and he had been restoredto consciousness. A little of the brandy soon served to dispel hisfaintness. He declared himself ready to accompany the expedition toPassy.
The Prefect endeavored to dissuade him; but to no purpose. The messagewhich he had received in the chauffeur's room, to the effect that theperson calling for help was Grace Duvall, his own wife, seemed somysterious, so utterly inexplicable to him, that he could conceive noreasonable explanation for it. There was but one thing to do,--to gohimself and sift the matter to the bottom. He did not expect to findGrace there, and yet--what else could the message mean?
Just as he staggered to his feet, with the announcement that he wouldaccompany the party to Passy, two of the servants rushed into thelibrary, and with scared faces announced that Francois lay, bound andunconscious, on the floor of his room. Mr. Stapleton looked quickly atDuvall.
"It's all right, Mr. Stapleton," exclaimed the detective. "The fellow isone of the gang." He turned to Monsieur Lefevre. "You'd better have himplaced under arrest at once. And if your car is here, we'll use that,instead of Mr. Stapleton's. There's not a moment to be lost."
"By all means. My automobile is at the door. Vernet," he turned to hisassistant, "have one of your men take charge of this fellow Francois atonce. We must set out immediately."
Mr. Stapleton took his wife in his arms, and embraced her tenderly."Don't worry, dear," he said. "I'll be back with the boy, inside of halfan hour. Come along!" he shouted to the others, as he made for the door."No time to waste now."
In a few moments the entire party, consisting of Mr. Stapleton, Duvall,Monsieur Lefevre, Vernet, and the Prefect's chauffeur, were drivingtoward Passy at a rate which set at naught all speed regulations andsent the few pedestrians who happened to cross their path scampering tothe sidewalk for safety.
Duvall explained, as they went along, the mysterious messages which hehad received by flashlight. No one understood them but Monsieur Lefevre.He gave a great sigh of relief. The continued and unexplained absence ofGrace had alarmed him greatly. Now he began to understand the reasonsfor it. That part of Duvall's story which spoke of haste, the appeal forprompt assistance, made him look grave. He leaned over to his chauffeurand urged him to even greater speed.
The trees and houses along the Avenue Kleber, and later the RueFranklin, swept by the speeding machine in a whirl of dust. In whatseemed an incredibly short time the automobile dashed into the RueNicolo, and thundered up to No. 42.
Vernet was the first to ascend the steps of the house, closely followedby Duvall and the others of the party. As they reached the front door,and rapped loudly, they all heard a sudden commotion within, followed bycries and shouts and a fall. Instantly all four threw their combinedweight against the door, shattering the lock and bursting it in.
The semidarkness showed a terrifying spectacle. On the floor lay awoman, unconscious, clutching in her arms a child, trapped in a longgray coat. Down the dark hallway leading to the rear of the house dashedthe figures of two men. One of them turned, as the attacking partyentered, and hurled the lighted candle which he bore full into theirfaces. The entire scene was instantly plunged into darkness.
The momentary light of the candle, however, had been sufficient to senda thrill of joy through at least one of the entering party. Mr.Stapleton recognized, in the white and tearful face of the child, hiskidnapped boy, and, stooping, raised him tenderly in his arms.
Duvall, not knowing whether the unconscious woman was the supposed agentof the police, Mademoiselle Goncourt, or Grace, his wife, lifted her inhis arms and carried her out into the air.
Vernet, followed by the Prefect, and the chauffeur, who had at oncejoined them, dashed fearlessly along the dark passage by which the twomen were attempting to escape.
There was a crash, as the rear door was burst out, followed by a volleyof shots as Vernet opened upon the fleeing men with his automaticrevolver.
In a moment the affair was over. The foremost of the two men crumpled upbefore he had taken half a dozen strides through the garden, and hiscompanion raised his hands and surrendered, begging for mercy. Within afew moments he was handcuffed, and Vernet, bending over his woundedcompanion, was directing the chauffeur to summon an ambulance at once.
Monsieur Lefevre returned hastily to the street. His sole concern nowwas for Grace. He prayed fervently that no serious harm had befallenher, and realized that Duvall was likely to resent bitterly thedeception which has been practised upon him.
The latter, however, was in no mood for recriminations. No sooner had hecarried his unconscious burden to the street, when Grace opened hereyes, threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him.
"Richard--Richard!" she cried, happily. "I'm so glad--so glad!" thenrested content in his arms.
The detective's brain was in a whirl. In no possible way could heaccount for the presence here, in Paris, under such tragic andinexplicable circumstances, of the wife whom he had left, so short atime before, peacefully sitting on the rosecovered porch of their homein Maryland. The thing seemed incredible, unbelievable; yet here wasGrace, with her soft arms about his neck, her kisses on his lips, toprove its reality.
He looked at Monsieur Lefevre dully as the latter joined them upon thesidewalk, but could say nothing.
"It seems," remarked the Prefect, with a grave smile, "that not only hasMr. Stapleton found his boy, but you have found your wife."
Duvall frowned. "What is she doing here?" he asked.
"We will speak of that later, my friend," observed Lefevre, quietly."Just at present I propose that we return to Mr. Stapleton's without amoment's delay. Her heart is breaking with anxiety." He took Grace's armand assisted her to enter the automobile, where Mr. Stapleton hadalready preceded them with his son. "It is to you, my dear child," hesaid to Grace, as she sunk weakly back upon the cushioned seat, "thatMrs. Stapleton will owe all her happiness."
It was a cheerful party that broke in upon the banker's wife a shorttime later. Duvall, under the stimulus of Grace's presence, hadcompletely forgotten his wound; while Grace, who had been butmomentarily stunned by the blow which the kidnapper had given her, wasradiant with joy at once more feeling her husband's arms about her.
Monsieur Lefevre carried them both off to his house, as soon as the boyhad been restored to his mother. The happiness of the banker's reunitedfamily was too great to permit them to be even mildly interested in theaffairs of Richard Duvall and his wife, and they, too, wished to bealone. It seemed to them both as though ages had passed since they hadseen each other; they could scarcely realize that it had been but alittle over two weeks. Richard espe
cially seemed unable to grasp thetruth of the situation. He plied Grace with numberless questions, andcould scarcely believe that he had actually been within arm's length ofher on at least four different occasions during the past week withoutknowing it.
Monsieur Lefevre advised him to leave the whole matter until the nextday. "You should be proud of your wife, Monsieur," he said, gravely."But for her, I doubt if Monsieur Stapleton would ever have seen his boyagain. And that reminds me," he smiled mischievously, "that I have wonthat little bet. It was Mademoiselle Goncourt, of my office, thatrecovered the lost child."
"I think the honors are pretty evenly divided, Monsieur," laughed Grace,happily, as she pressed her husband's hand. "Don't forget that ifRichard hadn't gotten my message, all my work would have gone fornothing."
"Suppose we call it a draw, then," said the Prefect. "All in the family,as you Americans say. And to show that I am not prejudiced, one way orthe other, I suggest that you both, with Mr. and Mrs. Stapleton, dinewith me tomorrow evening. There are many points connected with this casewhich are by no means cleared up, and we should talk them over. Althoughwe have secured the missing child, and three of the kidnappers, we donot yet know how the child was stolen, or whether the nurse, MaryLanahan, is innocent or guilty of any part in his mysteriousdisappearance in the Bois de Boulogne. I confess that I have all alongconsidered her guilty, and am inclined to order her arrest at once."
"It will be useless, Monsieur," remarked Duvall, quietly. "She isentirely innocent."
"You mean that she knows nothing of how the boy was spirited away?"
"Nothing!"
"Mon Dieu! Then the thing may forever remain a mystery."
"Not at all. It is simple enough."
Monsieur Lefevre turned to him with a look of inquiry. "You mean, then,that you have solved it?"
"I do."
"Then may I ask that you will be good enough to explain it at once?"
Duvall laughed. "Monsieur Lefevre," he said, "I have a splittingheadache, a bad wound in my cheek, and a burning desire to spend thenext two hours talking to my wife." He drew Grace toward him, and puthis arm through hers. "I am very much afraid that the explanation ofthe disappearance of Mr. Stapleton's boy will have to be put off untiltomorrow."
Monsieur Lefevre watched the two as they went, arm in arm, up thestairs.
"Mon Dieu!" he said softly to himself. "They are just as much in lovewith each other as ever."
The Blue Lights: A Detective Story Page 19