"I congratulate you," I said, "upon the possession of such a unique lodging-house."

Delora sighed.

"I can assure you," he said, "that it is more expensive than the finest suite in the Milan. Still, what would you have? When one has friends who are too curious, one must receive them in a fitting lodging."

"You are a very brave man, Mr. Delora," I said.

"Indeed!" he answered dryly. "I should have thought that the bravery had lain in another direction!"

I shook my head.

"I," I said, "am, I fear, a coward. Even when to-night I started out to keep my appointment with you I had fears. I was so afraid," I continued, "that I even went so far as to insure my safety."

"To insure your safety!" he repeated softly, like a man who repeats words of whose significance he is not assured.

"I admit it," I answered. "It was cowardly, and, I am sure, unnecessary. But I did it."

His face darkened with anger.

"You have brought an escort with you, perhaps?" he said. "You have the police outside?"

I shook my head.

"Nothing so clumsy," I answered. "There is just my taxicab, which won't go away unless it is I who says to go, and a little note I left with the hall-porter of the Milan, to be opened in case I was not back in an hour and a half. You see," I continued, apologetically, "my nerve has been a little shaken lately, and I did not know the neighborhood."

"You are discretion itself," Delora said. "Some day I will remember this as a joke against you. Have you been reading Gaboriau, my young friend, or his English disciples? This is your own city—London—the most law-abiding place on God's earth."

"I know it," I answered, "and yet a place is so much what the people who live in it may make it. I must confess that your five exits, two on to the river, would have given me a little shiver if I had not known for certain that I had made my visit to you safe."

Delora tried to smile. As a matter of fact, I could see that the man was shaking with fury.

"You are a strange person, Captain Rotherby," he said. "If I had not seen you bear yourself as a man of courage I should have been tempted to congratulate your army upon its freedom from your active services. You have no more to say to me?"

"Nothing more," I answered.

"To-morrow morning at eleven o'clock," Delora said, "you will be arrested for the attempted murder of Stephen Tapilow."

"It is exceedingly kind of you," I answered, "to give me this warning. I will make my arrangements accordingly."

"One thing," Delora said, "would change the course of Fate."

"That one thing," I remarked, "being that I should not send this cablegram."

"Exactly!" Delora answered, "in which case you will find your banking account the richer by ten thousand pounds."

I looked at him steadfastly.

"What manner of a swindle is this," I asked, "In which you, Louis, poor Bartot, the Chinese ambassador, and Heaven knows how many more, are concerned?"

"You are an ignorant person to use such words!" Delora replied.

"Tell me, at least," I begged, "whether your niece is implicated in this?"

"Why do you ask?" Delora exclaimed.

"Because I want to marry her," I answered.

"Do nothing until the day after to-morrow, Captain Rotherby, and you shall marry her and have a dowry of fifty thousand pounds, besides what her Uncle Nicholas will leave her."

"You overwhelm me!" I answered, turning toward the door.

He made no movement to arrest my departure. Suddenly I turned towards him. Why should I not give him the benefit of this one chance!

"Delora," I said, "from the moment when you disappeared from Charing Cross I have had but one idea concerning you, and that is that you are engaged in some nefarious if not criminal undertaking. I believe so at this minute. On the other hand, there is, of course, the chance that you may be, as you say, engaged in carrying out some enterprise, political or otherwise, which necessitates these mysterious doings on your part. I have no wish to be your enemy, or to interfere in any legitimate operation. If you care to take me into your confidence you will not find me unreasonable."

Delora bowed. I caught the gleam of his white teeth underneath his black moustache. I knew that he had made up his mind to fight.

"Captain Rotherby," he said, "I am much obliged for your offer, but I am not in need of allies. Send your cable as soon as you will. You will only make a little mischief of which you will afterwards be ashamed."

I shrugged my shoulders and turned away. No one came to let me out, but I undid the bolts myself, and stepped into my taxicab with a little breath of relief. Somehow or other I felt as though I had escaped from a danger which I could not define, and yet which I had felt with every breath I had drawn in that damp, unwholesome-looking house!



CHAPTER XXXVI

AN ABORTIVE ATTEMPT

Immediately I arrived at my brother's hotel I rang up the hall-porter of the Milan and informed him of my whereabouts. Afterwards Ralph and I between us concocted a cable to Dicky, for which I was thankful that I had not to pay. I had now taken Ralph into my entire confidence, and I found that he took very much the same view of Delora's behavior as I did. This is what we said,—

Have seen Delora. Behavior very mysterious. Is living apart from niece in secrecy. Seen several times with Chinese ambassador. Offered me large bribe refrain cabling you till Thursday. Fear something wrong.

"Do you think that you could give me a bed here to-night, Ralph?" I asked.

"By all means, old fellow," my brother answered. "To tell you the truth, I think you are better here than at the Milan. You can have the rooms you had the other night."

I had had a tiring day, and I dropped off to sleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow. I was awakened by the sound of the telephone bell close to my head. I had no idea as to the time, but from the silence everywhere I judged that I had been asleep for several hours. I took up the receiver and held it to my ear.

"Hullo!" I exclaimed.

"Is that Captain Rotherby?" a familiar voice asked.

"Yes!" I said. "That's Ashley, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir!" the man answered. "I am on night duty here. Will you excuse my asking you, sir, if you have lent your room to any one?"

"Certainly not!" I replied. "Why?"

"It's a very odd thing, sir," he continued. "A person arrived here with a small bag a little time ago and presented your card,—said that you had given him permission to sleep in your room. I let him go up, but I didn't feel altogether comfortable about it, so I took the liberty of ringing up Claridge's to see if you were there. I thought that as you were here this evening, you would have told us if you had proposed lending it."

"You are quite right, Ashley," I declared. "I have lent the room to no one. You had better go and see who it is at once. Shall I come round?"

"I will ring you up again, sir," the man answered, "as soon as I have been upstairs."

"By the bye," I asked, "he didn't look like a Frenchman, did he?"

"I could not say so," Ashley replied. "I will ring you up in a few minutes. I shall go up and inquire into this myself."

I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. In less than ten minutes the telephone bell rang again. Once more I heard Ashley's voice.

"I am ringing up from your sitting-room, sir," he said. "There is no one here at all, but the room has been opened. So far as I can see, nothing has been taken, but a bottle of chloroform has been dropped and broken upon the floor in your bedroom, and I have a strong idea that some one left the room by the other door as I entered the sitting-room."

"I'll come along at once, Ashley," I said,—"that is, as soon as I can get dressed."

"I was wondering, sir," was the quiet reply, "whether I would advise you to do so. I did not like the look of the man who came, and I am afraid he was not up to any good here. He is somewhere in the hotel now."

"You say that nothing has been disturbed?" I asked.

"Nothing at all, sir. It wasn't for robbery he came!"

"I think I can guess what he wanted, Ashley," said I. "Perhaps you are right. I won't come round till the morning."

"If anything fresh happens, sir, I will let you know," the man said. "Good night, sir!"

"Good night, Ashley!" I answered.

I got back into bed, but I did not immediately fall off to sleep again. There was no doubt at all that my visitor had come at the instigation of Delora, and that his object had been to prevent my sending that cable, which was already on its way. I got up and saw that my door was securely fastened. I am ashamed to confess that at that moment I felt a tremor of fear! I no longer had the slightest doubt that Delora, if not an impostor, was engaged in some great criminal operation. And Felicia! I thought of the matter in every way. It was impossible that Delora could be an impostor pure and simple. Felicia was content to travel with him. She knew him for her uncle. He must be her uncle, unless she herself had deceived me! I felt my blood run cold at the thought. I flung it from me. I would have no more of it. Felicia, at least, was above suspicion! Delora had, perhaps, been led into this enterprise, whatever it might be, by Louis and his friends. At any rate, the morrow was likely to clear things up. I was the more convinced of that when I remembered that it was one day's grace only that Delora had begged of me. I went off to sleep again soon, and only woke when my brother's servant called me for my bath. At half-past ten, after a consultation with my brother, I drove to the Brazilian Embassy. I sent in my card, and asked to see Mr. Lamartine. He came to me in a few minutes.

"Captain Rotherby!" he exclaimed, holding out his hand. "You have some news?"

"I am not sure whether you will call it news," I answered. "I came to see you about this man Delora."

"Sit down," Lamartine said. "I only wish that you had given me all your confidence the other day."

"To tell you the truth, I am not sure whether I have any to give now," I answered. "There are just one or two facts which seem to me so peculiar that I decided to look you up."

"I am very glad indeed to see you, Captain Rotherby," Lamartine said. "Something is happening in connection with this person which I am afraid may lead to very serious trouble. I know now more than I did when I hung around you and Miss Delora at Charing Cross Station, and in the course of the day I hope to know more."

"I should have washed my hands of the whole affair," I told him, "before now, but from the fact that I have received a cable from my brother, who is in Rio, concerning these very people. He had first of all, in a letter, asked me to be civil and to look them up. His cable begged me, on behalf of an elder brother out there, to look after Delora, find out what he was doing, and report. I gathered that he was over here on some special mission as to the progress of which he should have made reports to his brother in Brazil. He has not done so, nor has he used the private code agreed upon between those two."

"This is very interesting," Lamartine said,—"very interesting indeed!"

"I came to you," I said, "because, since the receipt of this cable, I have convinced myself that Delora is engaged in some sort of underground work the crisis of which must be very close at hand. I found him last night in a miserable, deserted sort of building down near the river in Bermondsey. He offered me ten thousand pounds not to reply to his brother's cable, I think that he would have done his best to have detained me there but for the fact that I had taken precautions before I started."

"Have you any idea," Lamartine asked, "what the nature of this underground business is?"

"I cannot imagine," I answered. "In some way it seems to me that it is connected with the Chinese ambassador, because I have seen them several times together. That, however, is only surmise. I can give you one more piece of information," I added, "and that is that the Chinese ambassador and Delora have recently visited Newcastle."

Lamartine smiled.

"I know everything except one thing," he said, "and that we shall both of us know before the day is out. Our friend Delora has played a great game. Even now I cannot tell you whether he has played to win or to lose. Since you have been so kind as to look me up, Captain Rotherby," he went on, "let us spend a little time together. Do me, for instance, the honor to lunch with me at the Milan at one o'clock."

"With Louis?" I asked grimly.

"I do not think that Louis will hurt us," Lamartine answered. "There is just a chance, even, that we may not find him on duty to-day."

"I will lunch with you with pleasure," I said, "but there is one thing which I must do first."

Lamartine looked at me narrowly.

"You want to see Miss Delora?" he asked.

It was foolish to be offended. I admitted the fact.

"Well," he said, "it is natural. Miss Delora is a very charming young lady, and, so far as I know, she believes in her uncle. At the same time, I am not sure, Captain Rotherby, that the neighborhood of the Milan is very safe for you just now."

"At this hour of the morning," I said, "one should be able to protect one's self."

"It is true," Lamartine answered. "Tell me, Captain Rotherby, at what hour did you send that cable last night?"

"At midnight," I answered.

Lamartine glanced at the clock.

"Soon," he said, "we shall have an official cable here, and then things will be interesting. Shall we meet, then, at the Milan?"

"Precisely," I answered. "You don't feel inclined," I added, "to be a little more candid with me? My head has ached for a good many days over this business."

"A few hours longer won't hurt you," Lamartine answered, laughing. "I can promise you that it will be worth waiting for."



CHAPTER XXXVII

DELORA RETURNS

At a few minutes before twelve I entered the Milan by the Court entrance, and received at once some astonishing news. Ashley, who came out to meet me, drew me at once upon one side with a little gesture of apology.

"Mr. Delora has returned, sir," he said.

For the moment I had forgotten the sensation which Delora's non-arrival on that first evening had made, and which had always left behind it a flavor of mystery. I could see from Ashley's face that he was puzzled.

"Is Mr. Delora with his niece?" I asked.

"They have moved into Number 35, sir," Ashley told me. "Mr. Delora complained very much of his rooms, said they were too small, and threatened to move to Claridge's. Number 35 is the best suite we have."

I stood, for a moment, thinking. Ashley, meanwhile, had retreated to his place behind the counter. I approached him slowly.

"Ashley," I said, "ring up and tell Mr. Delora that I have called."

Ashley went at once to the telephone.

"Don't be surprised," I said, "if his reply isn't exactly polite. I don't think he is very well pleased with me just now."

I strolled away for a few minutes to look into the cafe, where the waiters were preparing for luncheon. There was no sign of Louis. When I returned, Ashley leaned forward to me from the other side of the desk.

"Mr. Delora wishes you to step up, sir," he said.

I was a little surprised, but I moved promptly to the lift.

"On the third floor, isn't it?" I asked.

"Exactly, sir," Ashley answered. "Shall I send a page with you?"

I shook my head.

"I can find it all right," I said.

My knock at the door was answered by a dark-faced valet. He ushered me into a large and very handsome sitting-room. Felicia and Delora were standing talking together near the mantelpiece. They both ceased at my entrance, but I had an instinctive feeling that I had been the subject of their conversation. Felicia greeted me timidly. There were signs of tears in her face, and I felt that by some means or other this man had been able to reassert his influence over her. Delora himself was a changed being. He was dressed with the almost painful exactness of the French man of fashion. His slight black imperial was trimmed to a point, his moustache upturned with a distinctly foreign air. He wore a wonderful pin in his carefully arranged tie, and a tiny piece of red ribbon in his button-hole. The manicurist whom I had met in the passage had evidently just left him, for as I entered he was regarding his nails thoughtfully. He did not offer me his hand. He stared at me instead with a certain restrained insolence.

"I should be glad to know, Captain Rotherby," he said calmly, "to what I owe this intrusion?"

"I am sorry that you look upon it in that light, sir," I answered. "My visit, as a matter of fact, was intended for your niece."

She took a step towards me, but Delora's outstretched arm barred her progress.

"My niece is very much honored," he answered, "but her friends and her acquaintances are mine. You were so good as to render me some service on our arrival at Charing Cross a few days ago, but you have since then presumed upon that service to an unwarrantable extent."

"I am sorry that you should think so," I answered.

"I did not know," Delora continued, "that the young men of your country had time enough to spare to devote themselves to other people's business in the way that you have done. I came to this country upon a peculiar and complicated mission, intrusted to me by my own government. The chief condition of success was that it should be performed in secrecy. You were only a chance acquaintance, and how on earth you should have had the impertinence to associate yourself with my doings I cannot imagine! But the fact remains that you made my task more difficult, and, in fact, at one time seriously endangered its success. Not only that," Delora continued, "but you have chosen to ally yourself with those whose object it has been to wreck my undertaking. Yet, with the full knowledge of these things, you have had the supreme impudence to force your company upon my niece,—even, I understand, to pay her your addresses!"

"The dowry of fifty thousand pounds," I began,—

He stretched out his hand with a commanding air.

"We will not allude to that, sir," he declared. "I was forced to make an attempt to bribe you, I admit, but it was under very difficult circumstances. As it is, I am only thankful that you declined my offer. I have arranged matters so that your cable shall do me no harm. It has precipitated matters by twenty-four hours, but that is no one's loss and my gain. When I heard your name sent up I could scarcely believe my ears, but since you are here, since you have ventured to pay this call, I wish to inform you, on behalf of my niece and myself, that we consider your further acquaintance undesirable in the extreme."

The man's deportment was magnificent. But for the fact that I had long ago lost all faith in him I should have felt, without the shadow of a doubt, that I had made a supreme fool of myself. But as it was, my faith was only shaken. The hideous possibility that I had made a mistake was there like a shadow, but I could not accept it as a certainty.

"Mr. Delora," I said, "from one point of view I am very glad to hear you speak like this. If I have been mistaken in supposing that your extraordinary behavior in London—"

"But what the devil has my extraordinary behavior got to do with you?" Delora demanded, with the first note of anger in his tone which he had shown.

"My interest was for your niece, sir," I answered.

"My niece does not require your protection or your interest," Delora answered. "It seems to me that you have chosen a queer way to return the hospitality which it was our pleasure to extend to your brother in Brazil. I have still a busy morning, sir, and I have seen you for this one reason only: to have you clearly understand that we—my niece and I—do not find your further acquaintance desirable."

She made another little movement towards me, and by doing so came into the light. I saw that her eyes were red with weeping, and notwithstanding an angry exclamation from Delora she held out her hands to me.

"Capitaine Rotherby," she said, "I believe, I do, indeed, that you have acted out of kindness to me. My uncle, as you see, is very angry. What he has said has not been from my heart, but from his. Yet, as you know, I must obey!"

I raised her fingers to my lips, and I smiled into her face.

"Felicia," I said, "do not be afraid. This is not the end!"

Delora turned to the servant whom he had summoned.

"Show this gentleman out, Francois," he said coldly.

* * * * *

Lamartine was a few minutes late. He drove up in a large motor-car with an elderly gentleman, who remained inside, and with whom he talked for a few minutes earnestly before he joined me.

"You forgive me?" he asked, as he handed his hat and stick to an attendant. "The chief kept me talking. He brought me down here himself."

I nodded.

"It is of no consequence," I said. "I have some news for you."

"Nothing," Lamartine declared, passing his arm through mine, "will surprise me."

"Delora is here," I said, "with his niece!"

Lamartine stopped short.

"Under his own name?" he asked. "Do you mean that he has thrown off all disguise? That he is here as Maurice Delora?"

"I never knew his Christian name," I answered, "but he is here as Delora, right enough. He has taken the largest suite in the Court, and for the last quarter of an hour he has been dressing me down in great shape."

"He is magnificent!" Lamartine said softly, "If he can keep it up for twenty-four hours longer, he who has been a beggar practically for ten years will be worth a great fortune!"

"So that," I remarked, "was the stake!"

"A worthy one, is it not so, my friend?" Lamartine declared.

"Does he win?" I asked.

"Heaven knows!" Lamartine answered. "Even now I cannot tell you. Unless something turns up, I should say that it was very likely."

We entered the cafe. When Louis saw us arrive together he stood for a moment motionless upon the floor. His eyes seemed to question us with swift and fierce curiosity. Had we arrived together? Was this a chance meeting? How much was either in the other's confidence? These things and many others he seemed to ask. Then he came slowly towards us. A ray of sunshine, streaming through the glass roof of the courtyard and reflected through the window, lay across the floor of the cafe. As Louis passed over it I saw a change in the man. Always colorless, his white cheeks were graven now with deep, cob-webbed lines. His eyes seemed to have receded into his head. His manner lacked that touch of graceful and not unbecoming confidence which one had grown to admire.

"What can I do for you, messieurs?" he asked, with a little bow. "A table for two—yes? This way."

We followed him to a small table in the best part of the room.

"Monsieur had good sport in the country?" he asked me.

"Excellent, Louis!" I answered. "How are things in town?"

Louis shrugged his shoulders and glanced around.

"As one sees," he answered, "here we are fortunate. Here we are always, always busy. We turn people away all the time, because we prefer to serve well our old customers."

"Louis," I said, "you are wonderful!"

"What will the gentlemen eat?" Louis asked.

I looked at Lamartine, and Lamartine looked at me. The same thought was in the minds of both of us. Curiously enough we felt a certain delicacy in letting Louis perceive our dilemma!

"Those cold grouse look excellent," Lamartine said to me, pointing to the sideboard.

"Cold grouse are very good," Louis assented. "I will have one specially prepared and sent up."

Lamartine shook his head.

"Bring over the dish there, and let us look at them, Louis," he said.

Louis obeyed him. There was no alternative. Lamartine, without hesitation, coolly took one of the birds on to his own plate.

"Our luncheon is arranged for, Louis," he said. "Let a waiter bring us a dish and carving-knife. I like to carve myself at the table."

"But certainly!" Louis assented, and, calling a waiter, he glided away. Lamartine and I exchanged glances.

"I fancy we are pretty safe with this bird," he remarked.

"Absolutely," I answered. "He never had the ghost of a chance to tamper with it. The question of drinks is a little difficult," I continued.

"And I am very thirsty," Lamartine said. "An unopened bottle of hock, eh?"

I shook my head.

"No good," I answered. "I am convinced that Louis has a cellar of his own. Did you notice the fellow, by the bye?" I went on. "He shows signs of the worry of this thing. Somehow or other I do not fancy that Louis will be in this place a week from to-day."

"That may be," Lamartine answered, "but I must drink!"

There was a bottle of whiskey upon the table next to us, from which its occupant had been helping himself. He rose now to go, and I seized the opportunity the moment he had left, and before the waiter could clear the table I had secured the bottle.

"We won't risk soda-water," I said. "Whiskey and water is good enough."

The one waiter whom I disliked—a creature of Louis', as I knew well—came hurrying forward and endeavored to possess himself of the bottle.

"Let me get you another bottle of whiskey, sir," he said.

I shook my head.

"This one will do, thank you," I said.

"Soda-water or Perrier, sir?" he asked.

"Neither, thank you," I answered.

The man moved away, and I saw him in a corner talking to Louis. Lamartine served the grouse, and leaned across the table to me.

"Captain Rotherby," he said, "I think I will tell you now why, notwithstanding the risk of Monsieur Louis, I asked you to lunch with me here at this restaurant. But look! See who comes!"

He laid his fingers upon my coat-sleeve. I turned my head. Felicia was sailing down the room,—Felicia exquisitely dressed as usual, walking with a soft rustle of lace,—delightful, alluring; and in her wake Delora himself, tall, well-groomed, aristocratic, looking around him with mild but slightly bored interest. Louis was piloting them to a table, the best in the place. We watched them seat themselves. Delora, through a horn-rimmed eyeglass, studied the menu. Felicia, drawing off her gloves, looked a little wearily out into the busy courtyard. So they were sitting when the thing happened which Lamartine, I believe, had expected, but which, for me, was the most wonderful thing that had yet come to pass amongst this tangle of strange circumstances!



CHAPTER XXXVIII

AT BAY

The entrance of these two persons into the room, apart from its astonishing significance to us, seemed to excite a certain amount of interest amongst the ordinary throng. My lady of the turquoises wore a dark-blue closely fitting gown, which only a Paris tailor could have cut, a large and striking hat, and a great bunch of red roses in the front of her dress. But, after all, it was upon her companion, not upon her, that our regard was riveted. He was dressed with the neat exactitude of a Frenchman of fashion. He wore a red ribbon in his button-hole. His white hair and moustaches were perfectly arranged. He leaned heavily upon a stick, and he had the appearance of a man prematurely aged, as though by an illness or some great suffering. His tone, as he turned to his companion, was courteous enough but querulous.

"My dear," he said, "this place is full of draughts. We must find a table over there by the palm."

He pointed with his stick, and it was just at this moment that Louis, rounding the corner from a distant part of the room, came face to face with them. Once before during the last twenty-four hours I had been struck with the pallor of Louis' expression. This time he stood quite still in the middle of the floor, as though he had seen a ghost! He was close to a pillar, and I saw his hand suddenly go out to it as though in search of support. His breath was coming quickly. From where I sat I could see the little beads of sweat breaking out upon his forehead.

"Monsieur!" he exclaimed.

The newcomer turned to look at him. For a moment he seemed puzzled. It was as though some old memory were striving to reassert itself.

"My man," he said to Louis, "surely I know your face? You have been here a long time, haven't you?"

"Ten years, sir," Louis answered. "Permit me!"

He gave them a table not far away from mine. The memory of his face as he preceded them down the room never left me. I glanced instinctively towards Delora. His back was turned towards the entrance of the restaurant, and he had apparently seen nothing. Felicia, on the contrary, sat as though she were turned to stone. I saw her lean over and whisper to her companion. A little murmur of excitement broke from my companion's lips.

"This," he murmured, "is amazing! The girl is a fool to bring him here. She must know that Louis is in it!"

"Who is the man?" I asked.

Lamartine looked at me with a curious expression in his dark eyes.

"Do you mean to say that you cannot guess?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Only that he must be some relation to Delora," I declared. "There has been no time, though, for his brother to get across from South America."

Lamartine smiled.

"You are dull," he said. "But watch! What is going to happen now, I wonder?"

Delora had risen to his feet. He had the look of a man who has received a shock. He brushed past some people who were taking their places at a table without remark or apology. He passed my companion and myself without even, I believe, being conscious of our presence. He walked straight to the table where the two newcomers sat. I saw his hand fall upon the shoulder of the other man.

"Ferdinand!" he said.

The lady of the turquoises was leaning forward in her place as though to push Delora away. A few feet in the background Louis was hovering.

"Ferdinand," I heard Delora repeat, "what are you doing here? Who is this person? You know that you are not well enough to travel."

The older man looked at him with a slightly puzzled air. There was a certain vacuity in his expression, for which one found it hard to account.

"You!" he murmured, as though perplexed. "Why, this is not Paris, Maurice!"

Louis had glided a little nearer to the table. My lady of the turquoises half rose to her feet. Her blue eyes were fierce with anger. She looked as though she would have struck Delora.

"You shall not take him away!" she cried. "Don't have anything to say to them!" she added, bending downwards to her companion. "You are not safe with any one else except me!"

Delora turned towards her with an angry exclamation.

"Madame," he said, "this gentleman is my relation, and he is ill. He is certainly not in a condition to be travelling about the country with—with you!"

Her self-control was beginning to evaporate. She addressed him shrilly. People at the surrounding tables were beginning to observe this unusual conversation.

"What, then?" she cried. "Is he not safer with me than you? How about Henri—Henri who came over here because we had been deceived, he and I,—poor Henri who died?"

"This," Delora muttered, "is your revenge, then!"

"It is my revenge, and I mean to have it," she answered, "This afternoon you will see."

Louis advanced and bowed to the man who still sat at the table, looking a little puzzled, and with his eyes still fixed upon Delora.

"Monsieur," he said, "shall I serve luncheon?"

There was an instant's pause. I fancied that I saw something pass between Louis and Delora. The latter turned away with a little shrug of the shoulders.

"Presently will be time," he said. "We will speak together, all three of us, before you leave."

The woman struck the table with the palm of her hand.

"There is nothing which you need say!" she exclaimed. "It is finished, this fine scheme of yours! See, he is here himself. This afternoon we go to warn those whom you would rob!"

Once more that look flashed between Louis and Delora, and this time there was borne in upon me the swift consciousness of what it might mean. Delora returned to his place opposite Felicia. I bent across the table to Lamartine.

"Lamartine," I said, "there was a man who came here once—a companion of that woman—Bartot. He came to make trouble with Louis, and he dined here once. He dined nowhere else on earth!"

Lamartine was suddenly grave.

"Would Louis dare!" he muttered.

"Why not?" I answered. "See, Louis is watching us even now!"

Lamartine half rose from his seat. I pushed him back.

"No!" I said. "It is not for you! It is I who will arrange this thing."

I left my place and walked towards the table where the two were sitting. I saw Delora lay down his knife and fork and watch me with fixed, intent gaze. I saw Louis' lips twist into a snarl. He glided to the table even as I did. I held out my hand to the woman.

"You have not forgotten me, I hope?" I asked. "I am very glad indeed to see you in London."

She gave me her hand, and smiled her most bewitching smile. I turned and stared at Louis. He had no alternative but to fall back a pace or two.

"Madame," I said, bending towards her, "it was here that Bartot came and dined. I have heard it whispered that it is not safe to eat here if you are not a friend of Louis'!"

For a moment she failed to grasp the significance of my words. Then the color died slowly out of her cheeks. Her face was like the face of an old woman. Fear had come suddenly, and she was haggard.

"You mean that he would dare, monsieur?" she said—

"It is easy," I answered. "A dozen or more of these waiters are his creatures. From what I have heard I gather that your visit here with this gentleman is for a purpose inimical to some scheme in which Delora and Louis are interested. I warn you that if it is so, you had better change your mind about lunching."

"We will go at once!" she answered. "You are very kind. I came to confront Louis and that other with me," she declared, nodding vigorously at her companion. "I came because I would have them understand who it was that had ruined their plans, because they made use of me—of Bartot and me—and threw us aside like gloves that were finished with. But it was a foolish thing to do, monsieur. I see that, and I thank you now for your warning."

She gathered her things together for her departure, and leaned across towards her companion. What she said to him I do not know, for I returned to my place.

"They will not eat," I whispered to Lamartine. "Tell me, who is the man?"

"Hush!" Lamartine said. "Look there!"

Apparently angry words had been passing between Felicia and Delora. She had risen to her feet, notwithstanding his efforts to detain her, swept past my table with scarcely a glance, and made her way towards where the two latest arrivals were sitting. She stooped down towards the man, and talked to him earnestly for several moments. All the time he looked at her with the puzzled, half-vacant expression of a child who is confronted with something which it does not understand. Delora had risen to his feet, and stood nervously clutching the serviette in his hand. Louis hurried up to him, and they talked together for a moment.

"At all costs," I heard Louis say, "she must be fetched away. They will not remain here to eat. Rotherby has warned them. See how he is looking at her! It is not safe!"

Something more passed between them in a low tone. Delora glanced at his watch, and then at the clock. Finally he crossed the room to where his niece was standing, and laid his hand upon the man's shoulder.

"Ferdinand," he said, "I am glad to see that you are better. Come up to my rooms for a few minutes. We must have a talk."

At the sound of his voice something seemed to come back to the face of the older man. He rose slowly to his feet. I could see his white fingers trembling, but I could see his eyes suddenly fill with a new and stronger light.

"You!" he exclaimed. "Yes, I am here to talk to you! It had better be at once! Lead the way!"

I saw Delora look towards the lady of the turquoises. Apparently he made some remark which I failed to overhear.

"This lady is my companion," I heard the other say. "She has been very kind to me—kinder, I am afraid, as a stranger, than others have been on whom I should have relied. She will accompany us. She does not leave me."

Then the four of them turned towards the door. Lamartine jogged my shoulder and I too rose. Behind, Louis was hovering, watching their departure with a nervous anxiety which he could not conceal. Lamartine and I went out close upon their heels.

"A new move, Louis?" I asked, as I passed.

"The last, monsieur," Louis answered, with a bow.



CHAPTER XXXIX

THE UNEXPECTED

The entrance to the Milan Court was small and unimposing, compared with the entrance to the hotel proper. I reached it to find some confusion reigning. A tall, gray-bearded man was talking anxiously to the hall-porter, Felicia, standing a little apart, was looking around with an air of bewilderment. My lady of the turquoises was standing by the side of the lift, with her arm drawn through her companion's. Lamartine no sooner saw the face of the man who was in conversation with the hall-porter than he sprang forward.

"Your Excellency!" he exclaimed.

The ambassador turned quickly towards him.

"Where is Delora?" he asked.

"He was here but five seconds ago," Lamartine answered. "He must have left the door as you entered it!"

The man who was standing with my lady of the turquoises turned suddenly round.

"Delora!" he exclaimed. "That is my name! I am Ferdinand Delora! My brother Maurice was here a moment ago. You are Signor Vanhallon, are you not?" he continued. "You must remember me!"

The ambassador grasped him by the hand.

"My dear Delora," he said, "of course I do! What has been the meaning of all this mystery?"

Lamartine stepped quickly forward.

"Can't you see what it all means?" he exclaimed. "Ferdinand Delora here arrives in Paris on a secret mission to England. There, through some reason or through some cause,—who knows?—he falls ill. There comes to London Maurice Delora with some papers, playing his part. Maurice Delora was here a moment ago. His game is up and he is evidently gone. The one thing to be feared is that we are too late!"

The ambassador turned swiftly to the new Delora, who was looking from one to the other with the pained, half-vacant expression of a child.

"Delora," he exclaimed, "how comes it that you have let your brother intervene? Did you not understand how secret your mission was to be?—how important?"

The man shook his head slowly.

"I am sorry," he said, "I have been ill. I know nothing. There was an accident in Paris. I have no papers any longer. Maurice has them all."

My lady of the turquoises plunged into the conversation.

"But it has been a wicked conspiracy!" she cried. "Monsieur here," she added, clutching his arm, "was drugged and poisoned. Since then he has been like a child. He was left to die, but I found him, I brought him here And meanwhile, that wicked brother has been playing his part,—using even his name."

I went to Felicia.

"Felicia," I said, "it is you who can clear this up. The time has come when you must speak."

Felicia was standing with her hands clasped to her head, looking from one to the other of the speakers as though she were trying in vain to follow the sense of what they said. At my words she turned to me a little piteously. She was beginning to understand, but she had not realized the whole truth yet.

"The lady over there," she said, pointing to my lady of the turquoises, "has spoken the truth. Uncle Ferdinand was ill when he arrived in Paris. He stayed with us—that is, my uncle Maurice and I—in the Rue d'Hauteville. He seemed to get worse all the time, and he was worried because of some business in London which he could not attend to. Then it was arranged that my Uncle Maurice should take his place and come over here, only no one was to know that it was not Ferdinand himself. It was secret business for the Brazilian Government. I do not know what it was about, but it was very important."

"Your Uncle Maurice, then," I said, "was the uncle who lived in Paris—whom you knew best?"

She nodded.

"Yes! I have had to call him Ferdinand over here. It was hateful, but they all said that it was necessary."

A motor drew up outside. The Chinese ambassador stepped out with more haste than I had ever seen him use, and by his side a man in dark clothes and silk hat, who from the first I suspected to be a bank manager. The Brazilian minister welcomed them on the threshold.

"You are looking for Delora?" he exclaimed.

The Chinese ambassador looked around at the little circle. His face was emotionless, yet he spoke with a haste which was unusual.

"It is true that I seek him," he said. "This morning he has cashed a cheque for two hundred thousand pounds. I do not understand. There is a part of our bargain which he has not kept."

A gleam of intelligence flitted into the face of the newly discovered Delora. He stepped forward.

"It is in order," he said. "You have taken over from my brother, who represents the Brazilian Government, two new battleships."

"That is so," His Excellency answered, "but I want the indemnity of your ambassador."

"I cannot give it you," the ambassador declared, "until I have received the money."

"Where is Delora?" some one asked.

We looked around. The same suspicion was in the minds of all of us. Delora had fled! I drew my arm through Felicia's, and led her to the lift.

"Dear," I said, "you must come upstairs with me."

She clung to me a little hysterically.

"What do they mean?" she said. "It is not true that my uncle has been working for the Government?"

"It is true enough," I answered. "The only point for doubt is what he has done with the money he received on their account. Your Uncle Ferdinand there was the person who was intrusted with the plans and commission. For some reason or other your Uncle Maurice has carried it through, and to tell you the truth, I believe he has gone off with the money. If you take my advice you will bring your Uncle Ferdinand upstairs, and the lady who is with him, if you like, and let the others fight it out."

She took my advice. The new Delora was exhausted, and without any complete comprehension of what had taken place. Felicia busied herself attending to him. Then a sudden idea struck me. I opened the door of the further bedchamber softly and stood face to face with Delora. There was a quick flash, and I looked into the muzzle of a revolver. Delora was apparently preparing for flight. He had changed his clothes, and a small handbag, ready packed, was upon the bed.

"So it's you, you d—d interfering Englishman!" he said. "There's no one I'd sooner send to perdition!"

I stood quite still. I could not exactly see what was best to be done, for the man's hand was steady, and I scarcely saw how I could escape if indeed he pressed the trigger.

"They are looking for you everywhere," I said. "The sound of that revolver would fill your room."

"Do you think I don't know it?" he answered. "Do you think you would not have had a bullet through your forehead before now if I was not sure of it?"

"Put your revolver down and talk sense!" I said. "I am interested in no one except your niece."

"It's a lie!" he answered. "It's through you I'm in this hole!"

"Well, here's a chance for you," I said. "They are all of them down at the Court entrance. Probably some of them are on their way up now. Turn to the left and take the other lift. Leave the hotel by the Embankment entrance."

"And walk into a trap!" he snarled.

"Upon my honor I know of none," I answered. "It is exactly as I have said."

I knew from his face that he had forgotten the other lift. He snatched up his hat and disappeared. I returned to the sitting-room, and, although I had made no promise, the consciousness of my escape kept me silent as to having seen him. Felicia was sitting on the sofa, talking to her uncle. My lady of the turquoises, with a triumphant smile upon her lips, was occupying the easy-chair.

Felicia rose at once and drew me to the window.

"Capitaine Rotherby," she said, "I fear that you will never forgive me nor believe me,—perhaps it does not matter so very much,—but you see I have seen no one but my Uncle Maurice since I was at school. He used to visit me there. He was always kind. My Uncle Ferdinand there came as a stranger. I knew nothing of him except that he was taken ill. How he met with his illness no one told me. Then my Uncle Maurice came to me one night and said that his brother had come to Europe on a wonderful secret mission, and that now he was too ill to go on with it, it must be carried through for the honor of the family. He meant to call himself Ferdinand Delora, and to come to England and do his best, and I was to come with him and hold my peace, and help him where it was possible. I begin to understand now that, somehow or other, this poor Ferdinand was ill-treated, and that my Uncle Maurice took his place, meaning to steal the money he received. But I did not know that. Indeed, I did not know it!" she said, sobbing.

I passed my arm around her waist.

"Felicia, dear," I said, "who would doubt it? Let them fight this matter out between them. It is nothing to do with us. You are here, and you remain!"

She came a little closer into my arms with a sigh of content. My lady of the turquoises laughed outright.

"You are infidele, monsieur!" she exclaimed. "But there, the poor child is young, and she needs some one to look after her. Listen! What is that?"

We all heard it,—the sound of a shot in the corridor. I kept Felicia back for the moment, but the others were already outside. The waiter and the valet had rushed out of the service room. A chambermaid, with her apron over her head, ran screaming along the corridor. There in the middle Delora lay, flat on his back, with his hands thrown out and a smoking revolver by his side!...

I did then what might seem to be a callous thing. I left them all crowding around the body of the dead man. I let even Felicia be led back to her room by her companion. I took the lift downstairs, and I made my way into the cafe.

"Where is Louis?" I asked the first waiter I saw.

"He is away for a minute or two, sir," the man answered.

Almost as he spoke Louis entered from the further end of the restaurant. He did not see me, and I noticed that his fingers were arranging his tie, and that as he passed a mirror he glanced at his shirt-front. When I came face to face with him he was breathing fast as though he had been running.

"Louis," I said, "five flights of stairs are trying at our time of life!"

He looked at me blankly, and as one who does not comprehend.

"Five flights of stairs, monsieur!" he repeated.

I nodded.

"I myself came down by the lift," I said. "Louis, Delora is lying in the corridor outside his rooms with a bullet through his forehead. I am wondering whether he shot himself, or whether—"

"Or whether what?" Louis asked softly.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"After all," I said, "I suppose the truth will come out. Have you any idea, I wonder, where those two hundred thousand pounds are?"

"I, monsieur!"—Louis held out his hands. "Delora has had several hours to dispose of them. If he had taken my advice he would have been flying to the south coast in his motor by now. As to the money, well, it may be anywhere"

"It may, Louis!" I admitted.

"Delora was a bungler," Louis said slowly. "The game was in his hands. Even the reappearance of his brother was not serious. He was carrying out a perfectly legitimate transaction in which no one could interfere."

"Excepting," I remarked, "that he proposed to retain the proceeds of this sale of his."

"That would have been hard to prove if he had chosen to assert the contrary," Louis remarked. "Vanhallon would have had little enough to say if the money had passed into his hands."

"And the Chinese ambassador?" I remarked.

"His documents would have been good enough," Louis replied. "He has the ships. He has value for his money. There was no need for Delora to have despaired. His behavior during this last hour has been the behavior of a child. Monsieur will pardon me!"

Louis glided away, and I saw him smilingly escorting a party of late guests to their places. I stood where I was and watched him. To me, the man was something amazing! I firmly believed, even at that moment, that he had, safely hidden, part, if not the whole, of the proceeds of this gigantic scheme of fraud. I believed, too, that his had been the hand which had killed Delora. And there he was, within a few minutes of the time when the tragedy had happened, waiting upon his guests, consulted about the vintages of wines, suggesting dishes! Upstairs Delora lay, with a little blue mark upon his temple! It was the survival of the fittest, this, in crime as well as in the other things of life!

I retraced my steps upstairs. The Chinese ambassador, Vanhallon, and Lamartine were deep in conversation in the dead man's sitting-room. I was admitted to their confidence after a few minutes' hesitation. A draft for one hundred and sixty thousand pounds had been found upon the dead man, but notes to the value of forty thousand pounds were missing! They looked at me a little curiously as I entered, and Lamartine explained the situation to me.

"We were wondering about the young lady," he said.

"Then you need wonder no longer!" I said dryly. "I give my word for it that she is ignorant altogether of this scheme. She believed that her uncle was honestly attempting to carry out the plans for which his brother came to Europe, and as for searching for the money amongst her belongings, you might as well fly!"

"Where, then," Vanhallon demanded, "has it gone to? He has had so little time."

I opened my lips and closed them. After all, I had gained my end, and I had realized a little the folly of meddling with things which did not concern me. So I held my peace. I went and sat down by the side of my lady of the turquoises.

"Tell me," I said, "how did you find him?—and where? Has he been ill, or what is it that is the matter?"

I moved my head towards where Delora was sitting. The placid, child-like expression still remained with him. The tragedy which had happened only a few yards away had left him unmoved.

"I heard all about him from Henri," she said. "The scheme originally was his. Then they tried to hurry things through without us—without my man Henri, of whom they had made use. Henri came to London, and he died here! That much I know. How much more there is to be told, who can say? But I said to myself, 'I will be revenged!' I knew the hospital to which he had been taken—a private hospital from which few ever come out! But I went there, and I swore that I was his daughter. I frightened them all, for I knew that he had been drugged and poisoned till his brain had nearly given way. They thought him harmless, and they let him come with me. I brought him to England. I brought him here."

"And now?" I asked.

"Now I must go back," she answered, "but at least Henri is avenged!"

She leaned towards me.

"Tell whoever takes care of him," she whispered in my ear, "that he cannot live long. The doctors have assured me. It is a matter of weeks."

I walked with her to the door.

"It was an expensive journey for you," I remarked.

She laughed.

"Henri did leave me everything," she said. "I have no need of money. If monsieur—"

She sighed, and looked towards the door of Felicia's room. Then she fluttered away down the corridor, and I slowly retraced my steps. Felicia came out in a few minutes and sat by her uncle's side. The others had all departed, and we were left alone.

"Dear," I said, "this is no place for you any longer. You must come with me, and bring your uncle."

She held out both her hands.

"Wherever you say, Austen!" she murmured.

A year afterwards I persuaded Felicia to lunch at the Milan. She was no longer nervous, for we were intensely curious to know if Louis were still there.

"There is no doubt," I reminded her, "that your Uncle Maurice received the sum of forty thousand pounds in notes. When he was found shot, there was in his pocket-book a draft to the amount of one hundred and sixty thousand pounds. The notes had vanished. I wonder where!"

"I wonder!" she answered.

A waiter whom I knew came up to greet us. I asked him about Louis. He held out his hands.

"Monsieur Louis," he declared, "had the great good-fortune. A relative who died left him a great sum of money. The hotel of Benzoli in St. James' Street was for sale, and Louis he has bought it. He makes much money now."

"Lucky Louis!" I murmured. "How much was this legacy? Do you know?"

"I have heard, sir," the man said, bending down, "that it was as much as forty thousand pounds!"

"So do the wicked flourish!" I murmured to Felicia.

"Monsieur will doubtless pay a visit to the Cafe Benzoli?" the man continued. "The cuisine is excellent, and many of Louis' friends have followed him there."

Felicia and I exchanged smiling glances.

"Somehow or other—" she murmured.

"I think the Milan will be good enough for us!" I said decidedly.

THE END