CHAPTER XVIII
DONE IN THE NIGHT
I heard the stranger's voice call--
"Lola! Lola! Come here. We want you."
I heard her rather impatient reply, and then, a few moments later, shedescended the stairs and entered the room where the gang had beendiscussing me.
Some quick words in French were exchanged. Then I heard her cry--
"I tell you, I refuse!"
A man's voice protested.
"No, You shall not!" she declared in a loud, defiant voice. "If you do,then the police shall know!"
"Oh!" exclaimed old Gregory, whose voice I recognized. "Then you object,Mademoiselle, eh?"
"Yes. I do object, M'sieu'!" she cried. "If any attempt is made againsthim, then I shall myself inform the police. Remember, M'sieu' Vidal ismy friend."
"Your lover, perhaps," sneered the old man.
"No," she cried in loud, angry protest. "He is not my lover! Would helove a girl like myself--a girl who has been brought by you, and yourfriends, to what I am?"
"Well, you are a very pretty girl, and sometimes uncommonly useful toyour uncle," replied old Gregory tauntingly.
"Of use to you!" she cried. "Yes, I know I am! And when you have nofurther use for me, then--then--an accident will happen to me, and Ishall trouble you no further--an accident like that which you intendshall befall Mr. Vidal!"
I crouched against the window, my ears glued to the glass. I tried topicture to myself the scene within--how the young girl I had befriendedin such curious circumstances was standing before them, defying them tomake any attempt to put me out of action.
"You speak like a little fool, Lola," old Gregory declared. "You leadthe life of a lady of means. You travel with a maid, and all you have todo is to be pleasant to people, and keep your eyes and ears open. Forthat you receive very handsome rewards, and----"
"And you make a million francs a year, M'sieur Gregory," sheinterrupted. "Ah! when the police trace these marvellous plots to theirsource, they will be surprised. One day the papers will be full of youand your wicked doings--mark me!"
"You are mad, you ungrateful little minx!" shouted the old man infurious anger. "If you try to prevent me carrying out any of my schemes,depend upon it you will rue it. I'm not a man to be played with!"
"Neither am I to be played with, though I am only a girl!" she retorted."I'm desperate now--rendered desperate by you and your blackguardlygang."
"Because you fear for this novelist friend of yours--this prying personwho is so fond of investigating other people's affairs, and using thematerial for his books, eh?"
"Yes. I fear for him, because I know what is intended."
"I tell you it's a matter which does not concern you," said the man withthe master-mind, as I listened attentively.
"It does. He is my friend," she exclaimed in French. "I know that youintend he shall die--and I will warn him."
"You will, will you!" shouted Gregory, and I heard him spring to hisfeet. "Repeat that, at your peril!"
"I do repeat it!" said the girl wildly. "He shall not be harmed!"
"Eh? So you are ready to betray us, are you!" said the old man in ahard, hissing voice.
"Yes," she cried in defiance. "I will, if you so much as touch a hair ofhis head."
"You will! Then take that!" screamed the old man, while, at the sameinstant, I heard a heavy blow struck, followed by a woman's scream, anda loud noise as she fell upon the floor.
"_Dieu!_" I heard a man's voice exclaim. "Why--master--you've killedher!"
Then as I stood there, breathless, I heard some further conversation inlow tones. The ruffians were discussing the tragedy--for a tragedy Ifelt it to be. A defenceless girl struck down by old Gregory--her lipsclosed for ever because she had sought to protect me!
These men feared me! This thought, despite the horror and anger withwhich I was seething, flashed through my mind like fire. They believedthat I knew more than I really did.
But it was a moment for action. Old Gregory had deliberately struck downthat unfortunate girl who had been trained until she had become anexpert thief, made a cat's paw and tool for that dangerous gang ofcriminals.
Creeping along the wall of the house, I managed to find and noiselesslyplace against the window a rustic garden-chair, and discovering also aheavy piece of wood. I prepared to make a dramatic entry into the roomwhere this tragedy had happened, and the conspiracy against my life wasbeing hatched.
Again I listened. The voices were now so low that I could not catch thewords uttered.
Then standing on a level with the window-sill, I raised my arm and withthe block of wood smashed one of the huge, long panes to fragments.
The crash was startling, no doubt, but ere they could recover from it Ihad dashed the holland blind aside and stepped boldly into the room, mybig Browning revolver in my hand, and my back instantly against thewall.
The scene there was truly a strange one.
It was a dingy, old-fashioned drawing-room furnished in early Victorianstyle, with ponderous walnut furniture, a brown threadbare carpet, uglyarm-chairs, a what-not, and wax flowers under a glass dome, in thefashion beloved by our grandmothers. By the fireplace was a cosy corner,the upholstery of which was tattered and moth-eaten, while the stuffingof some of the chairs appeared through the corners of the cushions. Nearwhere I stood was an old chintz-covered couch, and beyond, an arm-chair,of the same inartistic description.
The place smelt damp and musty, and in places the faded grey paper waspeeling from the walls.
Three men were there. Gregory, and two others, strangers. The old man'sappearance had greatly altered from what it was when I had seen himwandering about in Cromer. Then he had worn his white hair and beardlong, and with his broad forehead, his pointed chin, and wide-brimmedslouch hat presented the picturesque appearance such as twenty years agoused to be affected by literary men or artists.
But now, as he stood before me, startled by my sudden appearance, I sawthat he wore both beard and hair much shorter, and, though he could notalter his height, his facial expression was considerably different.
In an instant I realized that I saw him now as he naturally was, whilein Cromer he had so disguised himself as to appear many years older thanwas actually the case.
His two companions were rather well-dressed men of perhaps thirty, oneof whom, a foreigner, wore a small pointed brown beard, while the other,clean-shaven, was unmistakably an Englishman. Thieves they were both,assuredly, yet in the street one would have passed them by asrespectable and rather refined citizens.
"You! Vidal!" cried Gregory, starting back when I sprang sounceremoniously into their midst.
"Yes, Vidal, Mr. Gregory!" I cried, striving to remain calm. Yet howcould I, when my eyes fell upon the form of Lola, who, dressed in adark-brown walking-costume, was lying huddled up in a heap on the floor,a few feet from where I stood.
Blood was upon the bosom of her dress. She had been struck down brutallywith a knife!
"I may tell you, Gregory," I said, as coolly as I could, "that I havebeen listening to your interesting conspiracy to kill me. Well, do sonow, if you dare! My friends are outside. They will be charmed to meetyou, I assure you, especially after the foul deed you committed only afew minutes ago."
The three men started and exchanged glances. I saw by their faces thatthey were frightened. Yet I dared not lower my pistol, or bend down toLola, for they would have jumped upon me instantly.
As I spoke, I pushed forth my weapon threateningly, covering them withit determinedly. But it required all my nerve to face them.
"You are an assassin, sir!" I cried, "and I have caught you redhanded."
"You haven't caught us yet," remarked the foreigner, defiantly, speakingEnglish with a strong accent; and the expressions upon the faces of allthree were villainous.
My thoughts were not of myself, but to avenge that murderous blow whichhad been struck at the poor defenceless girl. They were scoundrels,without pity and without compunction
, who held human life cheaplywhenever the existence of a person stood in the way of their schemes.
And I knew that they intended that I, too, should die.
But they were not quite sure whether I had the police waiting outside ornot. My bluff had worked. I saw how they hesitated. Even Gregory wastaken aback by my boldness in entering there and facing them.
"I may tell you," I said, still keeping my back to the wall and myuseful Browning ready for business, "that I have discovered much moreconcerning your interesting doings and your intentions than youimagine."
"Lola has told you!" burst forth old Gregory. "Well, she won't havefurther opportunity of doing so."
"And you will not have further opportunity of engineering yourremarkable thefts, my dear sir," I replied quite coolly. "The policedesire to see you, and to question you about a certain little affair atCromer, remember. You are extremely clever, Mr. Gregory--or whateveryour real name may be--but I tell you that you are at last unmasked.To-morrow the papers will be full of your interesting career, and onediamond-broker will disappear from Hatton Garden for ever."
"Listen," cried the master-criminal to his companions, his face nowwhite as paper. "Hark what that little chit of a girl has been saying!Was I not right to strike her down?"
"Quite," admitted his two companions.
"And now you will pay the penalty, my dear sir," I declared. "I intendthat you shall."
"Put that revolver down," Gregory commanded. "Let us talk. You areclever, Mr. Vidal, and I--well, I confess you have the whip hand of us."
His companions looked at each other, dismayed at these words of theMaster. He had actually admitted defeat!
For a few seconds I did not reply. I was reflecting, and it struck methat this pretence of being vanquished might only be a ruse. Gregory wasfar too clever and defiant a criminal to be beaten single-handed by theman he so sincerely hated and feared.
"No," I replied with a grim smile. "It is war between us, Mr.Gregory--not peace. Therefore, I shall hold my revolver here until myfriends arrive. They will not be long, and I shall not suffer fromfatigue, I assure you."
Gregory, quick-witted and shrewd, cast a rapid glance around as he stoodbefore me, a smart figure in his well-cut evening clothes, with a finediamond glistening in his pleated shirt-front.
"Well," he exclaimed after a brief pause, "if you deliberately take onthe duties of the police, and pry into affairs which do not concern you,then you must take the consequences."
"For that very reason I have entered here," I said, "to become witnessof your dastardly crime. You have killed that girl--killed her becauseyou feared she would betray you."
"She has betrayed us," he retorted. "And she deserves all she has got."
"You infernal brute!" I cried. "If it were not that it would bedeliberate murder, I'd put a bullet through you in return."
"Try it," he laughed jeeringly. "This quixotic temperament of yours willbe your undoing."
"I befriended that unfortunate girl," I said. "And she has appreciatedwhat I did."
"The little fool ran her head into a noose, I know," was his reply. "Buteven though you befriended her, it gave her no right to betray us."
"Nor any right to you to strike her down," I said, glancing at the whiteface of the prostrate form.
"Ah! You are her champion!" he laughed. "But you wouldn't be if you knewthe truth. She wasn't the innocent little person she led you to believeshe was."
"No," I cried angrily. "You shall say nothing against your victim'shonour, curse you! I only thank Heaven that I'm here to-night--that Iknow the truth regarding this tragedy. Your intention was--the intentionof all three of you, no doubt, was--to get rid of the evidence of yourcrime. But that will now be impossible."
As I uttered that last sentence, the bearded Frenchman made a movementtowards the door.
"Halt!" I cried in a loud, imperious voice. "Come back here. Do notattempt to leave this room or I'll shoot you," and as he glanced at mehe found himself looking into the barrel of my weapon.
"Come," said Gregory. "Enough of this fooling! It's a drawn game betweenus, Mr. Vidal. Why not let us discuss the future quietly and without anyill-feeling on either side. I admit what I have done--killed thetraitress."
"And by Heaven! you shall pay the penalty of your crime!" I cried.
"Oh, shall I?" he laughed with a nonchalant air. "We shall see."
Next instant I heard a sharp click in the passage outside and the roomwas plunged in darkness. The electric light had been switched off by oneof Gregory's confederates out in the hall.
I heard the door opened, and voices shouted wildly in French.
"Just in time," I heard the new-comer cry.
"Ah, Jules!" gasped Gregory. "You are late. Where have you been? Whereare you?"
And, by the shuffling of feet, I knew that the men were groping about inthe darkness.
Jules Jeanjean was there, in that room!
"_Dieu!_ You were nearly trapped, all of you," I heard him cry. "Whereis he?" he asked, referring to myself. "He shall not live to blab. Mindhe doesn't get out by the window."
But I still stood with my back against the wall, my pistol raised inself-defence.
A few moments elapsed--moments that seemed like hours--when of a suddenmy eyes were blinded by the ray of an electric torch which threw astrong light upon me from the doorway.
Ere I could realize my peril, there was a red flash, followed by a loudexplosion, and I felt a hot, stinging sensation in my throat.
Then next second the blackness of unconsciousness fell upon me, and Iknew no more.
The Place of Dragons: A Mystery Page 18