The Yellow Crayon

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER VIII

  "I regret," Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in thesmall coupe, "that your stay in this country will be so brief."

  "Indeed," Felix answered. "May I ask what you call brief?"

  Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.

  "We are already," he said, "on the way to England."

  Felix laughed.

  "This," he said, "is like old times."

  Mr. Sabin smiled.

  "The system of espionage here," he remarked, "is painfully primitive. Itlacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive roomson the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that myown belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friendsconclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by thatboat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculouscharge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will nothave the opportunity."

  "But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?" Felixasked.

  "Not from New York," Mr. Sabin answered, "but it was never my intentionto sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail inthe Saxonia at six o'clock to-morrow morning."

  "We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf," Felix remarked.

  "It is quite correct," Mr. Sabin answered. "Follow me through the hallas quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the otherentrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case."

  They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. Atthe Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson wasstanding upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than everunder the electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.

  "Felix," he said, "one word. If by any chance things have gone wrongthey will not have made any arrangements to detain you. Catch themidnight train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia. There will bea cable for you at Liverpool. But the moment you leave me send thisdespatch."

  Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket.The two men passed on. Duson took off his hat, but his fingers weretrembling. The carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man descended.

  "This is Mr. Sabin?" he remarked.

  Mr. Sabin bowed.

  "That is my name," he admitted, "by which I have been generally calledin this democratic country. What is your business with me?"

  "I rather guess that you're my prisoner," the man answered. "If you'llstep right in here we can get away quietly."

  "The suggestion," Mr. Sabin remarked, "sounds inviting, but I amsomewhat pressed for time. Might I inquire the nature of the charge youhave against me?"

  "They'll tell you that at the office," the man answered. "Get in,please."

  Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared. He took outhis cigarette-case.

  "You will permit me first to light a cigarette," he remarked.

  "All right! Only look sharp."

  Mr. Sabin kept silence in the carriage. The drive was a long one. Whenthey descended he looked up at Duson, who sat upon the box.

  "Duson," he said, and his voice, though low, was terrible, "I see that Ican be mistaken in men. You are a villain."

  The man sprung to his feet, hat in hand. His face was wrung withemotion.

  "Your Grace," he said, "it is true that I betrayed you. But I did itwithout reward. I am a ruined man. I did it because the orders whichcame to me were such as I dare not disobey. Here are your keys, yourGrace, and money."

  Mr. Sabin looked at him steadily.

  "You, too, Duson?"

  "I too, alas, your Grace!"

  Mr. Sabin considered for a moment.

  "Duson," he said, "I retain you in my service. Take my luggage on boardthe Campania to-morrow afternoon, and pay the bill at the hotel. I shalljoin you on the boat."

  Duson was amazed. The man who was standing by laughed.

  "If you take my advice, sir," he remarked, "you'll order your clothesto be sent here. I've a kind of fancy the Campania will sail without youto-morrow."

  "You have my orders, Duson," Mr. Sabin said. "You can rely upon seeingme."

  The detective led the way into the building, and opened the door leadinginto a large, barely furnished office.

  "Chief's gone home for the night, I guess," he remarked. "We can fix upa shakedown for you in one of the rooms behind."

  "I thank you," Mr. Sabin said, sitting down in a high-backed woodenchair; "I decline to move until the charge against me is properlyexplained."

  "There is no one here to do it just now," the man answered. "Better makeyourself comfortable for a bit."

  "You detain me here, then," Mr. Sabin said, "without even a sight ofyour warrant or any intimation as to the charge against me?"

  "Oh, the chief'll fix all that," the man answered. "Don't you worry."

  Mr. Sabin smiled.

  In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood ofFifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table piledwith chips and rolls of bills. On the sideboard there was a greatcollection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons. Mr.Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and holdinghimself up with the other. There was a knock at the door.

  A man who was still playing looked up. He was about fifty years of age,clean shaven, with vacuous eyes and a weak mouth. He was the host of theparty.

  "Come in!" he shouted.

  A young man entered in a long black overcoat and soft hat. He lookedabout him without surprise, but he seemed to note Mr. Horser's presencewith some concern. The man at the table threw down his cards.

  "What the devil do you want, Smith?"

  "An important despatch from Washington has just arrived, sir. I havebrought it up with the codebook."

  "From Washington at this time of the night," he exclaimed thickly. "Comein here, Smith."

  He raised the curtains leading into a small anteroom, and turned up theelectric light. His clerk laid the message down on the table before him.

  "Here is the despatch, Mr. Mace," he said, "and here is thetranslation."

  "English Ambassador demands immediate explanation of arrest of DukeSouspennier at Waldorf to-night. Reply immediately what charge andevidence. Souspennier naturalised Englishman."

  Mr. Mace sprang to his feet with an oath. He threw aside the curtainwhich shielded the room from the larger apartment.

  "Horser, come here, you damned fool!"

  Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons. Hishost pointed to the message.

  "Read that!"

  Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive. A dull purpleflush suffused his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on hisforehead stood out like cords. He leaned for several moments against thetable and steadily cursed Mr. Sabin, the government at Washington, andsomething under his breath which he did not dare to name openly.

  "Oh, shut up!" his host said at last. "How the devil are we going to getout of this?"

  Mr. Horser left the room and returned with a tumbler full of brandy anda very little water.

  "Take a drink yourself," he said. "It'll steady you."

  "Oh, I'm steady enough," Mr. Mace replied impatiently. "I want to knowhow you're going to get us out of this. What was the charge, anyhow?"

  "Passing forged bills," Horser answered. "Parsons fixed it up."

  Mr. Mace turned a shade paler.

  "Where the devil's the sense in a charge like that?" he answeredfiercely. "The man's a millionaire. He'll turn the tables on us nicely."

  "We've got to keep him till after the Campania sails, anyhow," Horsersaid doggedly.

  "We're not going to keep him ten minutes," Mace replied. "I'm going tosign the order for his release."

  Horser's speech was thick with drunken fury. "By --- I'll see that youdon't!" he exclaimed.

  Mace turned upon him angrily.

  "You selfish fool!" he muttered. "You're not in the thing, anyhow.
Ifyou think I'm going to risk my position for the sake of one little jobyou're wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology."

  "He'll have his revenge all the same," Horser answered. "It's too latenow to funk the thing. They can't budge you. We'll see to that. We holdNew York in our hands. Be a man, Mace, and run a little risk. It's fiftythousand."

  Mace looked up at him curiously.

  "What do you get out of it, Horser?"

  Horser's face hardened.

  "Not one cent!" he declared fiercely. "Only if I fail it might beunpleasant for me next time I crossed."

  "I don't know!" Mace declared weakly. "I don't know what to do. It'stwelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous."

  "You have me behind you."

  "I can't tell them that at Washington," Mace said.

  "It's a fact, all the same. Don't be so damned nervous."

  Mace dismissed his clerk, and found his other guests, too, on the pointof departure. But the last had scarcely left before a servant enteredwith another despatch.

  "Release Souspennier."

  Mace handed it to his companion.

  "This settles it," he declared. "I shall go round and try and make mypeace with the fellow."

  Horser stood in the way, burly, half-drunk and vicious. He struck hishost in the face with clenched fist. Mace went down with scarcely agroan. A servant, hearing the fall, came hurrying back.

  "Your master is drunk and he has fallen down," Horser said. "Put him tobed--give him a sleeping draught if you've got one."

  The servant bent over the unconscious man.

  "Hadn't I better fetch a doctor, sir?" he asked. "I'm afraid he's hurt."

  "Not he!" Horser answered contemptuously. "He's cut his cheek a little,that's all. Put him to bed. Say I shall be round again by nine o'clock."

  Horser put on his coat and left the house. The morning sunlight wasflooding the streets. Away down town Mr. Sabin was dozing in hishigh-backed chair.