The Broken Thread

by William Le Queux

effect that: "It isreported that Sir Raife Remington, who so mysteriously disappeared onthe day of his wedding, has been seen in Paris."

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

  ON THE TRAIL. THE FINDING OF THE RETICULE.

  In the few minutes that Raife talked with Gilda Tempest in theconservatory in Mayfair, he had made his plans. They were quitediscreditable to him, but he was no longer a free agent. Gilda'sinfluence had captured him completely, and it was an influence for evil.Gilda, in turn, was entirely controlled by Doctor Malsano. They met inParis, and theirs was the _abandon_ of a crazy infatuation, over whichDoctor Malsano exercised his cunning. The wayward Raife Remington hadfallen very low indeed. Hidden away in the Rue Lafayette was a smallflat. It was the scene of many ugly situations; but, throughout all,the relationship of Raife and Gilda was purely platonic. He had lefthis wife on her wedding-day. He had abandoned himself to a scandalouslife.

  Doctor Malsano's gang of continental crooks worked in varyingdirections, and there was very little in the way of villainy that didnot come within the scope of their operations, and Raife was entangledin them. Malsano, through Gilda, controlled Raife's actions. Only onone point was he firm. He refused to allow Gilda to remain the decoy,and his unconquerable firmness brought him into antagonism with thedoctor, who vowed to complete the revenge that was being carried out onthe son of the man who had offended forty years previously.

  It seemed incredible that a young aristocrat of ancient lineage, endowedwith high moral and intellectual courage, could be dragged down to suchdepths. A crazy infatuation for a woman, who carried trouble in hertrain, for a woman who had displayed all the traits of inherentcriminality, had brought Raife to a moral standard beneath contempt. Itis not to be supposed that Raife had surrendered to his downfall withoutlong and bitter struggles. Time and again he endeavoured to emerge fromthis fearful debacle. On each occasion the pleading of this fascinatingwoman held him in a closer grip, and the triumph of Malsano wascomplete.

  The Dowager Lady Remington and the new Lady Remington did not believethe newspaper paragraph that stated that Raife had been seen in Paris.In the midst of the overwhelming trouble, the crushing blow to theirpride, these two women solaced one another, and hoped against hope.Neither could believe that the man who possessed such amiable and lovingqualities could have destroyed himself, or wantonly disappeared in suchcruel circumstances.

  A week or more after the disappearance, a maid brought to Raife's mothera reticule which had been picked up in the conservatory in Mayfair. Itwas very handsome, and contained some visiting-cards on which wereengraved, "Miss Gilda Tempest." There was no address, nor did thereticule contain any indication of an address.

  The old lady at once sent for Hilda and when she entered the roomexclaimed, "Hilda! at last here is some news, although I fear it is notof the best." She then told of the finding of the reticule and thecards contained therein. She quickly added, "We met this young personat Nice, and she has an uncle, a rather evil-looking person. But he canbe quite charming on occasions, in spite of an extraordinary swivel eyethat produces a most mystifying effect. I always mistrusted them, andnow I feel confident they are at the bottom of this mystery."

  Hilda at once thought of "the other woman" that Raife had spoken aboutin Cairo--the woman that had made him a woman-hater. Had she returnedand recaptured her lost fancy? It could not be love. Hilda was theonly woman, in her own estimation, who could love Raife. The terrifyingthoughts that haunted her made her courageous mind act very quickly.Her father's business had compelled his return to the United States, andshe was alone in so far as initiative was concerned. Taking possessionof the reticule, she left the room, and, in the next few minutes wastalking on the telephone to Scotland Yard. It is not to be expectedthat a detective-inspector should be at the other end of a telephoneevery time he is wanted. Hilda had heard Raife speak of Herrion, and,with the extraordinary gift possessed by most Americans, she rememberedhis name and all about him.

  "Is Detective-inspector Herrion there?" The reply came softly back,"No, he is not. Who is speaking?"

  The title came strangely to Hilda's lips as she spoke into the receiver:"I am Lady Remington. You may remember something about thedisappearance of Sir Raife Remington some time ago." Then she added,and again the title sounded strange: "Sir Raife Remington is my husband,you know. Well, I have got some news, what you call a clue, and I wouldlike very much to see Mr Herrion, if possible. I shall be at the housein Green Street, Mayfair, all day. I wonder if he could call?" Then,as the receiver clicked into its position, she leant back and thoughtvery hard.

  It was late that evening when Mr Herrion was announced. Hilda receivedhim in a small writing-room. The lithe, powerful little man was, forthe occasion, immaculately clad, and there was more than a suggestion ofthe society lisp that deceived so many unsuspecting criminals. HildaRemington was brief and business-like. She came to the point at once,producing the reticule and telling all she knew about "the other woman."It was not much, but it was quite enough for Detective-InspectorHerrion. Too well he knew the full importance of that name, "Miss GildaTempest."

  Then, in a low tone, he spoke. "Lady Remington, you have, indeed, founda useful clue. I know altogether too much about this mysterious woman,who has entered so much into the life of Sir Raife. Her so-called uncleis one of the most desperate criminals in Europe! He is so clever, andveils his operations under the more active work of his dupes in such amanner that it is very hard to run him to earth. This unfortunate womanis completely under his control, and acts as a decoy in a score ofdirections. I have never been able to fathom the matter completely, butthere seems to be some sort of a feud--a vendetta--between thisarch-fiend Malsano and Sir Raife's family. Malsano leaves no stoneunturned to bring about his ruin. He seems to be afraid of murder, buthe lays clever plans to entrap Sir Raife and smirch his name. You willexcuse me saying so, Lady Remington, but I have a great admiration forSir Raife. He is a magnificent man, and he holds a name respected inhis country. I tried to help him some time ago, and thought I hadsucceeded when I persuaded him to go away on a big-game shootingexpedition on the Blue Nile. Somehow, these fiendish people track himdown and cause trouble."

  Hilda Remington had never met a detective-inspector before, and Herrionwas in no sense the type of man she had expected to meet. His charmingmanner and graceful speech gave her confidence. This man--this daintyScarlet Pimpernel--was a friend, not a policeman. She felt he should,at least, be an Attache at a Court in Europe. She gazed at him with acombination of admiration and appreciation. Herrion was human, and hecould not fail to be influenced by the beauty of this stricken woman,who gazed at him, seeking sympathy and help in her trouble.

  With her eloquent eyes she appealed to him as she spoke: "Mr Herrion.Somehow you inspire me with confidence. Do help me to find my husband."Herrion rose from his seat, saying: "Lady Remington, if thatblackguard, Malsano, is to be found in Europe, I will find him. If Ican trace your husband, I will do so for his sake, and for your sake,and for the sake of his mother. I will go now and, look up the lastrecords of the gang. Will you give me the number of your telephone? Itmay save time. And please hold yourself in readiness, as one neverknows how long or how soon it may take to unearth a criminal fox in hisburrow." When Mr Herrion left Green Street, he took a taxicab toScotland Yard, and promptly set in motion all the machinery that waspossible, in order to find out the whereabouts of Doctor Malsano. Hisactive mind was hard at work, and, under the influence of thisbeautiful, frank American girl with the pleading eyes and soft voice, hewas determined to find Raife and restore him to his bride of a day orso. He was satisfied that Raife was not in his sound mind, or he couldnot have acted in so scandalous a manner. What ruse had been adopted tolure him away? What fresh devilment was this master of crime at? Thisshould be a matter of international importance. Apart from all theseconsiderations, the pride of his craft had been stirred, and that wasnot a light matter.

  Hilda
and Raife's mother sat late talking of the only subject possibleto them in the trying circumstances. Hilda had narrated the gist of herinterview with Detective-Inspector Herrion. For the first time Raife'smother learnt a very bare outline of Raife's intrigue with GildaTempest. It explained many of his moods that had appeared strange. Itreminded her of the conversation she had thought she had overheard asshe climbed the staircase to the old white room of the "Blue Boar" Innat Tunbridge Wells. She recalled the fact that the room had appearedempty, yet she felt confident she had heard voices barely a momentbefore. A rumour had spread, somehow, from somewhere, concerning thesilk rope that had been found under the library window, on the nightwhen the old butler, with a fine sense of strategy, had arranged for thehouse to be surrounded. All these rumours and speculations