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| author | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-05-28 10:22:07 -0700 |
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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-05-28 10:22:07 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78776-0.txt b/78776-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f50b415 --- /dev/null +++ b/78776-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10086 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78776 *** + + + + + THE MONSTER + OF GRAMMONT + + BY + GEORGE GOODCHILD + + + + + THE MYSTERY LEAGUE, INC. + PUBLISHERS 1930 NEW YORK + + + + + [COPYRIGHT] + + COPYRIGHT, 1930, BY + THE MYSTERY LEAGUE, Inc. + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + FIRST EDITION + + + + + CONTENTS + + I. Ghosts + II. A Delay + III. The Monster + IV. Fouchard + V. Baffled + VI. The Unexpected + VII. Bertha + VIII. Suspense + IX. Counterplot + X. Theories + XI. The Crimson Trail + XII. The Second Victim + XIII. The Conspirators + XIV. A Night of Terror + XV. The Coup + XVI. Bondage + XVII. Wallace Escapes + XVIII. Wallace Has a Little Luck + XIX. Blind Alleys + XX. Bertha Is Scared + XXI. A Proposal + XXII. The Meeting + XXIII. A Call for Help + XXIV. Check! + XXV. The Final Blow + XXVI. Yolande’s Ordeal + XXVII. The Book + XXVIII. Prisoners + XXIX. The Fuse + XXX. The Count + XXXI. Conclusion + + + + + CHAPTER I. + GHOSTS + +The bronzed, healthy-looking driver of the Bentley car put his foot +harder on the accelerator pedal, and averted his head to hear the +crackle of the exhaust as the sleek automobile sped along the +undulating tree-lined Route Nationale. For the past three hours that +white, arrow-like road had held his eyes, and he was “killing” it as +fast as safety would permit, for main routes at the best were inclined +to be monotonous. + +While the speedometer needle wavered between the sixties and seventies +his travelling companion was endeavouring to find their exact position +on a large-scale French road map, a feat of considerable difficulty +for which the execrable road surface was largely responsible. + +“Steady, old man!” he said, as the wheels struck a deep cassis, +causing a jarring of springs and a slight dither in the steering. +“This isn’t Brooklands.” + +“It’s about as unlovely. We’ll cut off at the next turning.” + +Speed was reduced as bad _pavé_ was encountered on the outskirts of a +straggling village. It was exactly like a dozen others passed through +that morning--two rows of tall, bare houses, with lime-washed walls +and green shutters, a café, a comestible, and a pump surrounded by +ample troughs, at which a few women were engaged in washing clothes. +At the far end were two garages, each provided with a red petrol-pump +bearing the familiar word “_Essence_,” the price in the one case being +ten francs, and in the other ten francs fifty centimes, for what was +precisely the same brand of fuel. + +“Wonderful folk!” said the driver. + +The car almost leaped the last ten yards of appalling _pavé_, and +seemed to purr with satisfaction as the tyres found a better surface. +On either hand sunlit fields stretched away to a hazy horizon, and +here and there blue-bloused peasants were making the first hay. But +periodically war-scars came to view, for it was the summer of 1920, +and but a bare two years since the Germans made their last retreat +that was to end five years of unmitigated horror. + +The elder man folded up his map and placed it beside him. He was of +smaller build than his young companion, and, judging from his face, of +a more complaisant temperament. But, like the driver, he bore all the +signs of abundant health and vitality. The pair had brought the car +across the Channel a few days before, with the object of making a +month’s tour of north and mid-France. No route had been laid down, and +more often than not they slept in towns they had had no intention of +visiting. + +“Ralph!” + +The driver averted his head. + +“Turn left beyond the bridge. There’s a road that appears to go right +through the forest.” + +The car slowed down, and the acute bend was taken. Soon it was evident +that the change of direction was justified. The first blush of summer +lay over everything, and the dust-laden trees of the Route Nationale +gave place to the rich, rain-washed hues of early June. The serpentine +road became a joy, for it held surprises at every bend and pleaded for +less speed and more appreciation. + +Ralph Wallace banished his tense expression, and displayed his strong, +white teeth in a smile. Speed-hog as he was, he was not so abandoned +as not to be able to appreciate the natural joys of the quiet and +refulgent by-ways. Lately he had had a surfeit of speed--a luxury that +the straight roads of France offer to young “bloods” who own a +ninety-miles-an-hour car. + +“Give me a cigarette, Connie,” he begged. + +Julian Conrad, the passenger, handed over the required article and +lighted it in Wallace’s mouth, for the Bentley was now ambling along +at a cycle pace. As Conrad turned his head one might have noticed a +thin, straight scar extending from the corner of the left eye to the +edge of the firm mouth. But the surgeon had made a neat job of it, and +the sun had browned his skin to such an extent that this memento of +the war could only be seen at close range. + +The delightful road began to ascend, and on the right of it the land +slipped away gradually, forming a verdant valley in which were +scattered a few farms. Here and there were cattle, but in small +numbers. It was chickens that predominated. Every farm seemed to +thrive on poultry, and what cattle there were appeared to be thin and +out of condition. After half an hour’s pleasant amble the road reached +the summit of the long incline. A gap in the immediate timber brought +to view one of the pleasantest vistas yet encountered. A mile or so in +the distance was a beautiful château--a dream of architectural +beauty, gleaming white amid the many shades of green, built on the +edge of a great chasm. + +“Stop a moment,” said Conrad, laying his hand on that of his +companion’s. “By Jove, I had no idea we were in this district.” + +“What district?” + +“The Marne. I know that place quite well--I ought to.” + +“You mean the château?” + +“Yes--the Château Grammont. I must have mentioned it to you at some +time or other.” + +“You may have, but I have the rottenest memory for names.” + +The eyes of Conrad were filled with a new light. A short time ago he +had been dreaming lazily--drinking in the natural beauties of the +country in subconscious fashion. Now into his mind had come something +stirring--vital. The lips became compressed for a few seconds. Then +they opened again, and a little sigh escaped him, for the memories +that were revived by the fair sight before him were very mixed. +Wallace looked at him interrogatively. + +“It’s just the same as it was when I saw it--four years ago. Dropping +on it like this, in June sunlight, with the birds singing, stirs one a +bit.” + +“You know it?” + +“Yes. I spent what I think was the happiest month of my life there.” + +“Ah, the war?” + +“Yes--the war. We had been knocked to pieces twenty miles farther +north. Jove, that was a ruddy business. I was laid out at the end of +it. No wound of any sort--just sheer fatigue. I was on the way to an +absolute breakdown when they sent me down for a rest. I had no idea I +was going to a place like that. There was a score or so of us in +all--slight wounds and knock-outs. We each had a month in which to +recuperate--and we did. It was quite a voluntary business. The owner +of the château was a Monsieur Fallières. I think he had a title, but +at any rate he never used it. He had been rendered unfit for further +service in the earlier campaign, and gave up half his wonderful home +to the cause. Everything was gratis and _ad lib_. We played tennis, +bowls, badminton, rode fine horses in the Forêt de Grammont-- It was +all done with such grace, too. We were just members of a house-party, +and madame and her daughters were as charming as if we had known them +for half a century.” + +“They still lived there?” + +“Yes. There were two little girls of seven and eight, and another, +named Yolande, who I think was sixteen. She was at school somewhere on +the coast, but was home on holiday at that period. We used to pet her +a lot. I hope we didn’t spoil her.” + +“I expect you did--if she was pretty.” + +“She was pretty enough--not the conventional prettiness, either. I +often thought I would like to paint her. Well, thank God their fine +old home was saved to them.” + +“Did the line never reach as far as that?” + +“Later, I believe; but all the pressure was taken off this sector. I +think I read that the Germans held the château for some months, and +then the line was pushed back. You were lucky to have missed that +bloody business, Ralph.” + +“You are making me wonder whether I was lucky,” said Wallace, with a +laugh. “Another six months and I should have had a taste of it. I +remember I nearly wept with regret when the Armistice found me doing +foot-drill and ‘physical jerks’ on Salisbury Plain.” + +“No book that will ever be written can convey to you half the misery, +horror, and suffering. These little diversions gain all their beauty +by comparison with the background against which they stand. Well, here +we are again in God’s peace and sunshine. Men must be mad ever to give +them up.” + +“I’ve often told you you have missed your vocation in life, Conrad,” +said Wallace. “You ought to have entered the Church. Of course, I +quite agree with you, but the fact is that most young men feel they +ought to be allowed to act like savages before they adopt the only +possible point of view towards legalised murder. I’m getting a bit +hungry, aren’t you?” + +“I’m past that stage. I remember there is a fair-sized town about +twenty kilometres farther on. I’ll consult the map. This road ought to +lead somewhere.” + +Wallace got the car moving again. They were presumably still in the +Forêt de Grammont, and the road narrowed until there was not room for +another vehicle to pass; but, since they had met nothing for the past +hour, Wallace did not worry greatly about this. His mind was divided +equally between the beautiful woodland scenery and the behaviour of +the car. It was a recent acquisition, and pleased him immensely, for +he had an engineering mind. He loved to feel the smooth output of +power, the easy and complete control. A squeak or the slightest +foreign mechanical noise would have brought him flat on his back, or +executing a half somersault to solve the mystery. + +“Can’t find the road at all,” muttered Conrad. “That’s the worst of +French maps--always unreliable.” + +At that moment two riders came to view. One was a man of about fifty +and the other a pretty woman who bore so striking a resemblance to the +man that Wallace concluded immediately she was his daughter. They were +coming in the direction of the car, and it was obvious that there was +not sufficient room for them to pass with safety. Wallace promptly put +his near-side wheels into the ditch and waited, which act of roadside +courtesy was acknowledged when the riders got level with the car. +Wallace was admiring the well-groomed mounts, and the poise of the +riders, when he realised that the man had stopped and was gazing +intently at Conrad. + +“And how does Major Conrad find France after this long absence?” he +asked with a smile. + +Conrad dropped the map in his surprise, and then slowly his eyes +brightened with recognition. + +“Monsieur Fallières!” he exclaimed. “I should not have recognised you +had you not spoken. This is a most pleasant surprise. Until a few +minutes ago I had no idea we were within twenty miles of the Château +Grammont. How do you do, sir?” + +He stood up and grasped the extended hand with obvious pleasure. + +“You remember Yolande?” asked Fallières. + +“Yolande!” Conrad blushed a little as he removed his hat and bowed +towards the beautiful girl. “Surely this cannot be the young lady who +used to----” + +“--who used to tease you so much,” she added with a smile. “Yes, I +remember you now quite well, but all the credit is due to my father, +who never forgets a face.” + +“Well, well, it is a very happy meeting. I have so often recalled the +enjoyable time I spent at the château when things were so different. +But allow me to introduce my friend--Mr. Ralph Wallace. A few minutes +ago I was speaking of you.” + +Wallace shook hands from the driver’s seat. He could now understand +what Conrad had meant about Yolande’s beauty not being conventional. +She was dark, like her father, and a trifle pallid, but her features +were perfectly moulded and well balanced. She sat her horse as a woman +does who spends most of her days in the saddle, and smiled at him with +her eyes rather than with her mouth. + +“Are you aware that your car is headed for an almost impassable +marsh?” she asked. + +“I wasn’t. As a matter of fact, we are exploring. Mr. Conrad is +supposed to be the pilot, but I am afraid he is not thoroughly +qualified. I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that we are trespassing.” + +“You are on private property. The public road through the Forêt is +three miles back. But, if you like to risk the marsh, you can join the +other road farther on.” + +“Don’t let my daughter tempt you to such a disastrous act, monsieur,” +put in Fallières. “No car can cross the marsh. Besides, I am going to +insist that you and my old friend join us at _déjeuner_.” + +“Really!” + +“Yes, yes,” put in Yolande. “We are only ten minutes from the +château, and you must lunch somewhere, mustn’t you?” + +“I think we may consider the matter settled,” said Fallières. “If you +will drive the car another hundred yards you will find a place where +you can turn it. We will lead the way.” + +The horses were walked past, and a few minutes later the car was +following them through the leafy glade. Conrad was still chuckling at +the coincidence. + +“He has changed a lot,” he said. “Looks more than ten years older. He +did not mention madame. I wonder----” + +“So that is Yolande!” mused Wallace. + +“Yes. I shouldn’t have known her. By Jove, her beauty hasn’t deserted +her; but she looks rather pensive. In the old days she was like +quicksilver--so animated. I flatter myself I taught her how to +pronounce an English ‘r.’” + +The château came to view through a long avenue. It was of Norman +architecture, and situated on the crest of a sharp rise, from where it +commanded a fine view of the country round about. Its four white +turrets gleamed in the sunlight, and as they approached it the massive +surrounding walls commanded their attention. Its size was deceptive +seen from a distance, for there was plenty of space about it, which +had the effect of dwarfing its enormous dimensions. + +“Quite a feudal affair,” said Wallace. + +“Yes, one of the finest in France. Fallières is enormously rich.” + +“What is the quaint building at the end?” + +“The chapel. Jove, how familiar it all seems! Yes, the old place has +suffered a bit. I can see signs of renovation. The chapel appears to +have had a new roof.” + +Arrived outside the main entrance, the horses were taken by a groom. + +“Welcome to the Château Grammont,” said Fallières to Wallace. “There +is a garage near the stables, but perhaps you would like to leave the +car here. It is quite shady.” + +Wallace agreed, and he and Conrad went to remove some of the dust they +had gathered. The place had been brought up to date in every respect. +A power plant supplied electricity, and there were modern fittings +everywhere, and a plentiful supply of hot water. Notwithstanding, +there was nothing incongruous. All that was necessarily modern was +well concealed. It was evident that Fallières took a pride in this +magnificent place--a veritable storehouse for the antiquarian, and a +realm sacred to the soul of an architect. Young Wallace, brought up in +an atmosphere far different, felt just a trifle overawed. + +“The place must have a hundred rooms,” he ejaculated. “Hold me, +Conrad, or I’ll lose myself.” + +“It is enormous, but Fallières is doing good work in using his wealth +to preserve this for the nation. Look, we used to play tennis out +there. That’s a fine court--the fastest I’ve ever played on.” + +Wallace moistened his lips. At sports he excelled, having got his blue +at Oxford some years before. He was reckoned to be one of the best +middle-weight amateur boxers in the kingdom, and had to his credit the +hundred yards and the high-jump records of his college. + +Lunch proved to be a most pleasant affair. It was inevitable that +Fallières should revive the past, and, although Wallace had thought +he had heard quite enough about the war, he found himself listening to +the conversation with considerable interest, for, in this very room +where they now sat, German officers had eaten their fill, and there +was little doubt that many a dreadful deed had been perpetrated within +those surrounding walls. + +“Well, it is all past, father,” said Yolande. “And we have suffered +less than some.” + +“Yes--less than some. One life in a family of five,” he said sadly. +“We did not expect it, for we had so long been immune. There were +rumours, but I disregarded them. Then, in the middle of the night, +there was terrible gunfire, and shells fell quite near. Retreating +troops passed, and we were told to flee at once. The line was broken +and the Germans were sweeping forward.… Yolande was away at school, +but I and my other two children and their dear mother left by car; the +servants as best they could. The roads were under fire and the car +broke down. In that terrible ordeal we lost the dearest woman in the +world----” + +“Madame!” murmured Conrad. + +He nodded and bent his head, but in an instant he raised it again, +with the light of pride in his fine eyes. + +“There are things we must accept, messieurs. Shall we take coffee on +the terrace? It affords a splendid view of the valley.” + +They adjourned to the wide terrace at the back of the château. From +there the land fell away abruptly, and the château was heavily +buttressed against a possible landslide. Across the verdant valley +wound a small river, entering the dark forest half a mile farther on. +It was a sight most pleasing to the eye, and it was almost impossible +to imagine that the ghastly game of war had ever been played there. + +“May I see your car?” enquired Yolande of Wallace. “I am very +interested in cars, and we see few English ones here.” + +Wallace was on his feet in an instant. Though modest of his own +achievements, he was enormously proud of the car. They left Conrad and +Fallières taking a second liqueur. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + A DELAY + +Wallace had invariably found that the task of explaining any sort of +mechanism to a woman was a most thankless one. He would not have been +at all surprised if the beautiful Yolande had asked him what all the +dials on the dash were for, and he did not for a moment expect her to +evince any interest in what lay under the bonnet of the car. Pleased +as he was to show her his toy, it was not his sole reason for leaving +Conrad and Fallières talking about the past. + +Yolande herself was the other reason. All through the excellent +luncheon he had found his gaze drawn to the oval, dark face of the +girl, and it had set him wondering what was the cause of her obvious +discomposure. The long eyelashes had a habit of coming down and almost +obscuring the soft, romantic eyes, and she would sit motionless for +quite a few seconds, until some remark of her father’s awakened her to +consciousness of her immediate surroundings. Notwithstanding, he felt +that she was not naturally pensive and pallid. There had been moments +when the eyes moved quickly, flashing like rare jewels in the sunlight +that streamed through the casement windows. Certainly this girl was +arrestive and fascinating in many respects. + +She now stood a few yards from the car, admiring its rakish lines. +Then, to his positive amazement, she put quite a technical question +about the engine, and begged him to lift the bonnet. Her interest and +enthusiasm were called forth immediately, and she fired off questions, +as rapidly as a machine-gun, about torque, engine-balance, +compression, and what not. Wallace, who already knew his “baby,” from +back axle to radiator, found the keenest enjoyment in explaining every +detail. + +“Beautiful!” she said. “I think I should like to have one like it. Our +present car is quite a good one, but too big for me. The chauffeur is +away with it now, taking my two sisters to school. There was an +epidemic, and they were sent home.” + +“What make is it?” + +“A Hispano-Suiza.” + +“You won’t find anything much better than that.” + +“But I want something of my own; something to get chummy--that’s the +word--something to get chummy with.” + +“Your command of English is wonderful.” + +“We have had so many chances of practising it. During the war we had +hundreds of English officers here. One could not help learning +English.” + +“I suppose not. But, tell me, aren’t you a little lonely here--so far +from any big city?” + +For a moment she did not answer, but turned her eyes upwards to where +the time-worn château walls towered in the blue. Then she smiled as a +young bird fluttered from the ivy that climbed over the western +turret. + +“At times--perhaps,” she murmured. “My father has not yet quite +recovered from the loss of my--my mother, and I do not go about so +much as I might. I think I remind him of my mother, and it helps in a +way. Of course, we have house-parties at times. At least, we did have +until-- Tell me, is Mr. Conrad just a friend or a relative?” + +“A friend--a kind of guardian, though there isn’t a great difference +in our ages--now. It was curious how we came together. My father was a +colonel in the artillery, and Conrad got a commission in the same +corps. For two years they were always together, and got to be very +real friends. I was at school in England at the time. Then a chance +shell killed my father. Connie--I always call him that--Connie was +with him when he died. Of course, he knew all about me, and he told my +father not to worry on my account, and promised to be a sort of +guardian to me. Well, he has been all that and more. Fortunately my +father was a man of means, so there was never any economic problem, +but Connie was always on hand to get me out of any scrape, and I’ve +been in a few. He’s just the best kind of fellow that ever was--a +man’s man, if you understand. Connie never preached. When at times I +used to play the fool, Connie used to make me feel pretty small, and +all in about six words. I remember once I acted like a goat. I knew it +all the time, and yet I refused to admit it and pretty nearly +alienated myself completely. Lord, Connie came up to the scratch at +the last moment. He got my thoughts absolutely. ‘You’re fuming, my +lad, because you know I know what an ass you are,’ he said. ‘You’re +aching to take it out of me. Well, come on!’ Before I knew what had +happened he had hit me in the face and was framing up in pugilistic +fashion. I fancied myself at that game, and his blow hurt. I went for +him good and well. For half an hour we knocked each other about, but I +couldn’t get anything over him, and all the while I was having it +knocked into me what an ungrateful little pup I was. We’ve never +quarrelled since. I say, forgive me telling you all this. It must be +awfully boring.” + +“It is very interesting,” she said. “I think I like him more than ever +now.” + +“No one could help it,” he replied simply. “He’s an engineer by +profession--turbines--and I’m part of the concern. I really yearned to +be a professional racing motorist, but Connie wouldn’t hear of it. No +doubt he was wise.” + +“I am sure he was.” + +“Anyway, we get on awfully well, and have many a ding-dong battle at +tennis or golf. He’s pretty good at all games.” + +She measured him up with her eyes as if to intimate that he, too, +ought to shine in that respect, in which she was not wrong. Then they +wandered into the flower-garden, where they met Fallières and Conrad. +Time passed all too quickly, and they were surprised to find it was +four o’clock. + +“We shall certainly have to leave if we are to make Rheims this +evening,” said Conrad. + +“It is not a good road,” put in Yolande. “For fifty miles it is full +of pot-holes.” + +They ultimately entered the car, and then a peculiar thing happened. +The engine refused to start. Wallace stroked his chin and looked at +the various controls. + +“Plenty of petrol?” asked Conrad. + +“Half a tank. That’s curious. I’ve never known her jib before.” + +He jumped out and lifted the bonnet. So far as he could see there was +nothing wrong, but when he tested the plugs he discovered that no +current was passing. For half an hour he tinkered about with leads and +plugs--all in vain. + +“Well, I’m beaten!” he ejaculated. “She has run faultlessly for five +thousand miles, and then suddenly goes on strike. I suppose there is +no garage within reasonable distance?” + +“None,” replied Fallières. “I doubt if it is possible to get anything +done to-night. There is really no reliable garage between here and +Rheims. I could telephone there, but I doubt if a man would come +before the morning.” + +“I’ll fix it somehow,” said Wallace desperately. “Take a walk, Connie, +and leave it to me.” + +“I think a cup of tea might be more acceptable,” suggested Yolande. “I +will get some prepared. When you have solved your problem, Mr. +Wallace, you will find us on the terrace.” + +Half an hour later Wallace joined the tea-party, looking very +disgusted. The car had beaten him. Nothing would induce it to start, +and he felt his ignominy greatly. + +“You are all hot and bothered,” said Yolande. “Drink this tea and +accept the inevitable. What does it matter? You may as well stay the +night here as in Rheims.” + +“Certainly,” agreed her father. “I will telephone to Rheims and get a +good electrician here early to-morrow morning. May we call that +settled?” + +“It is extremely kind of you,” replied Conrad. “I do hope it will not +inconvenience you.” + +“It will afford us considerable pleasure.” + +Wallace echoed his friend’s thanks, and later went to help some of the +servants push the car into the garage. He was not greatly disappointed +in the change of plan, but the mysterious trouble with the car got on +his nerves. It was his baby. Coming downstairs before dinner, he +strolled into the garden trying to think of a possible solution. His +meandering brought him within sight of the garage. The door was slid +back, and he caught a glimpse of a light skirt near the car. + +Considerably puzzled, he walked closer, his footsteps being muffled by +the velvety lawn. Now the owner of the skirt came clearly to view. It +was Yolande, and she was engaged in tinkering with the switchbox. +Before his eyes she changed two wires on their terminals and put the +cover back. The next moment she turned and saw him. + +“Putting the car right?” he asked with a smile. + +“Yes. I--” Her face went crimson with embarrassment, as she realised +from his expression that he correctly divined what she had been up to. +“There--is nothing wrong,” she stammered. + +“Nothing wrong!” + +“I mean--” She faced him boldly. “I mean that I put it wrong in order +to prevent your going.” + +“I don’t understand why. It is extremely pleasant here, but, all the +same----” + +“I will explain. Come yonder.” + +She led him to a seat in a sheltered nook on the northern side of the +château, and for some moments gazed pensively at the falling shadows. +It was clear to him that, despite her outward control, she was +agitated, but about what he could not imagine. + +“It looks calm here, does it not?” she asked. + +“Delightful.” + +“It is all a delusion. I am terribly afraid--and so is my father. Yet +we are not frank with each other. He believes that I am ignorant +of--of certain occurrences, and, out of love for me, he wants to keep +me ignorant. But I know. I discovered years ago. The servants talk +among themselves, too. No one could live here and remain ignorant.” + +“What is it that frightens you?” + +“A form--a horrid, gaunt form that periodically seems to get active. +It makes strange noises--noises not human.” + +Wallace felt like smiling, for he had not an ounce of superstition in +his make-up. It was the sort of story one might expect to hear of an +ancient château enclosed in a dense forest, and yet Yolande was not +the type of woman one would imagine to be hysterical. + +“Has anyone ever seen this--apparition?” he asked. + +“Yes.” + +“Who?” + +“Severin the butler--and I.” + +“You! When?” + +“When I first left school--nearly two years ago. I never locked the +door of my room, because I was always afraid of fire. One night I was +awakened from sleep by a sound. The moonlight was streaming through +the window, and illumined by it was a horrid shape. It was standing +erect, not two yards from my bed, and nearly reached the ceiling. It +was like a monk, with a kind of cowl over the head. All I saw except +the cowl and gown were two awful eyes, and hands like talons. Ugh!” + +She shuddered at the memory of this incident, and seemed to get a +little closer to him, for darkness was coming down. + +“What happened then?” he asked. + +“I tried to scream, but could not utter a sound. Paralysed with +fright, I watched the thing turn and disappear through the door.” + +“It wasn’t imagination?” + +“No--no!” + +“And you did not tell your father?” + +“No. I thought he would laugh at me. But on another occasion I heard +queer noises in the corridor. I slipped out of bed and unlocked my +door. I saw my father, looking pale, creeping along the corridor with +a pistol in his hand. As soon as he saw me he hid the pistol and tried +to behave as if nothing was amiss. Many servants leave us. Severin +does not say why, but he is staunch and does not want this evil thing +made public gossip.” + +“Has the château a reputation for being haunted? I mean, is it a +tradition?” + +“Oh, yes. The first Marquis of Grammont was murdered in his bed +centuries ago. There was a volume of records in the library, and some +old manuscripts concerning the history of the château, but the +Germans stole them before they left, as they did many other things.” + +“When did you come here?” + +“Shortly before the war. The old Grammont family became defunct, and +the estate came into the market. My father inherited great wealth from +my grandfather, who had a big ironworks in Lorraine. He wanted to +preserve this lovely old place. We heard about its being haunted, but +paid no attention to it. Often we heard strange noises, but it is only +of recent date that our lives have been made unbearable. My poor +father is ageing under the strain, but he is courageous and will not +give up his stewardship.” + +“It all sounds so fantastic that one scarcely knows what to say,” he +mused. “I have never come into contact with such a thing before, and +you must pardon my scepticism.” + +“It is natural that you should think me imaginative, but what I am +telling you is true. Have you noticed anything strange about the +appointments of the château?” + +“I can’t say that I have.” + +“Well, there are no mirrors in any of the reception-rooms. As fast as +we put them in they are smashed.” + +“Smashed!” + +“Yes. We noticed it first after the Germans had been here. Every +mirror was smashed and the pieces taken away. We thought the enemy +troops had done it to provide themselves with shaving mirrors, but, +when they were replaced, one by one they were smashed again.” + +“How strange!” + +“Then there is something worse. Things are befouled with muck and mud, +as if some monster hated bright and beautiful things. Severin usually +manages to remove these signs early in the morning, but I discovered +it. We had a big house-party last autumn. It ended abruptly. I--I +can’t go into details. It is too disgusting.” + +“This is the strangest story I have ever heard. You do not think there +is any danger to--to life or limb?” + +“I don’t know. If this monster is of the supernatural, it might not +have the power to harm us, but----” + +“You have doubts.” + +“Well, less than a year ago a servant on the estate was found dead in +the forest. There was no mark of violence on his body, and it was +concluded that he died from heart failure, but close to where the body +was found there was a huge footprint--a monstrous thing nearly +fourteen inches long. The police were puzzled, but they could find no +other. The verdict was inevitable, but I am sure that poor man saw the +Monster face to face and died from shock.” + +She narrated this in a voice that was quite calm, and it would have +given the biggest sceptic pause. But the healthy-minded Wallace still +found it difficult to accept these alleged facts. + +“You have never seen this form--this monster--since that night years +ago?” he asked. + +“Not until to-day.” + +“To-day!” + +“I caught a glimpse of it this morning in the northern gallery just +before we went riding--the gowned and hooded figure, and the two +baleful eyes. I seemed to read in them a warning. It’s no use, I can’t +explain, but I feel--I know--that some tragedy is pending. When we met +you so unexpectedly and you came here, I could not resist the +temptation to do--what I did. You are two strong men--and I wanted +help. There are other men in the servants’ hall, but they are far +away, and they are faint-hearted, except Severin. And he is growing +old now.” + +“I see. I wish we were in a position to aid you. It would give me the +greatest joy in the world to fall up against this queer person. But +that sort of thing never happens when you want it. Don’t you think it +would be wise to confide in your father, and urge him to notify the +police?” + +“Yes. I fear it must come to that. But there was no time to-day. I +will speak to him to-night.” + +“In the meantime, am I to regard this as confidential? There is my +friend Conrad. He has not the slightest idea of these strange +happenings.” + +“Please do not tell him,” she begged. “I would not have told you but +for the fact that you discovered me tampering with your car. Can you +forgive me?” + +“Don’t worry about that. If our presence here gives you the slightest +sense of security, we are more than happy to be here.” + +“Thank you.” + +A few minutes later the gong sounded, and Wallace led Yolande in to +dinner. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + THE MONSTER + +The party was waited on by two pretty French maids, while Monsieur +Severin served the wine. The latter interested Wallace. He was +somewhere between fifty and sixty years of age, with a cadaverous face +and small, bird-like eyes. Although he fulfilled his functions +perfectly, he had a habit of constantly looking over his shoulder, +which detracted from his deportment considerably. Having heard what he +had heard, Wallace could not do other than ascribe these frequent +nervous acts to the Monster. Severin evidently expected him +everywhere. He was like a man at his last gasp, hiding his terror by a +commendable effort of will. + +“We must give Severin a rest,” said Fallières. “I am afraid he is +approaching a nervous breakdown.” + +“Has he been with you long?” asked Wallace. + +“Oh, yes. Nearly twenty-five years now. An excellent fellow, and a +connoisseur in wines.” + +“I can quite believe that,” said Conrad, as he lifted his glass. + +“There! I quite forgot to telephone to Rheims about the car,” said +Fallières. “I will do so immediately after dinner.” + +“You need not bother,” put in Wallace. “The car is in going order.” + +“You have discovered the trouble?” + +“Mademoiselle and I--between us. It was nothing much.” + +“Splendid! These trivial accidents are very annoying.” + +“Talking about accidents,” said Conrad, “I regret that I have had one +in my room. Rather an inexplicable one, too.” + +“Nothing serious, I hope?” + +“No damage to myself--but to your property, monsieur. I can’t imagine +how it happened. I went to the bathroom, and on returning found the +dressing-table mirror shattered to atoms. It was lying on the floor, +and seemed to have suffered a severe blow. The window was open, but +there was no wind that could have blown so heavy an article to the +floor.” + +The face of Fallières went pallid, and Yolande started noticeably. +Conrad was evidently at a loss to understand this rather strange +reception. + +“It--it is of no consequence whatever,” stammered Fallières, after a +brief pause. Then, recovering his equanimity, “This is an unfortunate +place for mirrors, Mr. Conrad. We do not seem to be able to keep a +mirror intact for more than a few weeks. There seems to be an evil +spirit here who hates them.” + +“Well, it means seven years’ bad luck for me, anyhow,” replied Conrad +with a laugh. “I suppose you find your family quite small now that +your two younger children are away?” + +“_Too_ small. I like to have young people about me. I like their +laughter--their high spirits. I am a little concerned about Yolande, +too. I fear it is not much of a life for a young woman, imprisoned in +a kind of hermitage.” + +“Father!” remonstrated Yolande. “You know I love the château, and the +beautiful country.” + +“Because it is home to you. I wish you would go away for a period. A +change is good for everyone. There is Uncle Bernard at Nice and your +cousins----” + +“You know we never get on together. Are you anxious to be rid of me, +father?” + +He smiled and touched her arm affectionately, then he decided to +confide a little in his guests. + +“To be quite frank, there is something a little strange about the +château. If I were a superstitious man I should put the estate into +the market and seek for a place that was less charged with the spirits +of the past, but I am rational enough to set at defiance strange signs +and warnings----” + +“Warnings!” said Conrad. + +“One might interpret them as such. Now, Yolande, I am making your +flesh creep.” + +“It has crept before now,” she said, with a wan smile. “I know what +you mean, father. It is everybody’s secret, and we all try to keep it +from each other for fear of ridicule.” + +Fallières stroked his chin reflectively. This assertion evidently did +not surprise him greatly, but he was obviously a little distressed. + +“This is very interesting,” said Conrad. “But of course every château +has its family ghost. Usually they are accounted for by rats in the +walls, or wind in the chimneys.” + +Yolande shot him a swift glance, but held her peace. At that moment +Severin came in to inform her that she was wanted on the telephone, +and, as the call was a long-distance one, she left at once. + +“This is no rat in the walls, monsieur,” said Fallières, “nor wind in +the chimneys. It is a perplexing, worrying mystery. Something that can +be seen and touched walks this old place intermittently. For periods +it seems to sleep, and peace reigns, but suddenly it becomes +active--and its activity is daily increasing. But you are right to be +sceptical. I was sceptical until I was compelled to accept the truth.” + +“But if it is human, surely the remedy is simple.” + +“What is the remedy?” + +“To lay hands on it and deal with it.” + +“I have tried to for years. See, I do not go about unprepared.” + +He produced an automatic pistol from his hip pocket and smiled as he +gazed on it. + +“Not a very nice thing for a gentleman to carry about in his own home +in the twentieth century,” he said. “I think it is better to lock your +door to-night. I am sorry to have to advise that.” + +Conrad began to take him seriously for the first time. He looked at +Wallace, whose face was like the Sphinx. + +“What do you make of this, Ralph?” he asked. + +“Frankly, I don’t know.” + +“Neither do I. But, by Jove, I’d like to meet this thing. Has anyone +ever really seen it face to face?” + +“Yes--Severin.” + +“Someone else has,” blurted Wallace. + +Fallières stared at him in surprise. + +“I--I am afraid I have betrayed my trust,” murmured Wallace. “Well, +perhaps it doesn’t matter so much now. Your daughter saw it years +ago--in her room.” + +“Great God!” + +“Did she tell you that?” asked Conrad. + +Wallace nodded, and hoped Fallières would not question him further, +for he was not anxious to relate the incident of the car to the stern +old man. But the horror of this discovery was sufficient temporarily +to stun Fallières. + +“She must leave,” he said. “I will send her down to Nice. I fear that +these happenings are working up to a crisis. For myself, I mean to +stay. Nothing shall drive me from this place.” + +“Well spoken,” said Conrad. “There must be an explanation--a very +simple one. We live in the twentieth century, and ought not to +tolerate superstition.” + +“Is it superstition? Who breaks the mirrors and befouls the +furnishings? What is it that utters horrible noises in rooms and +galleries? What was it my daughter saw? I admit it may have been a +hallucination, brought about by a dream and by the gossip in the +servants’ hall; but, on the other hand, I should have to be insane to +believe that all I have heard was due to my own imagination.” + +When Yolande reappeared, they changed the conversation quickly. At her +father’s request she agreed to play for them, and for two hours the +sweet strains of music filled the place. It changed the brooding +atmosphere at once. + +“Do you sing?” asked Yolande of Wallace. “I have lots of English +songs.” + +He was not unwilling, for he possessed a very fair baritone voice and +knew a whole host of songs. She proved to be an excellent accompanist, +and in one or two duets their voices blended well. + +“Bravo!” said Fallières. “That was charming. Yolande seldom has an +opportunity of singing duets. Find another, please.” + +Thus the evening passed, and at midnight the party retired. Before +going to his room, Wallace stepped on to the terrace with Yolande to +get a last breath of fresh air. A brilliant moon illumined the valley +and the dark forest. + +“Thank you for changing my wires over,” he said. “This has been a most +enjoyable evening. I should not brood too much on that other business. +I feel sure there must be a very simple solution that you will +discover before long.” + +“I wish there were,” she replied. + +“What a queer yarn that was,” mused Conrad, as he sat and smoked a +cigarette in Wallace’s room. “Of course there is nothing in it. They +have let themselves get into that state.” + +“I wonder.” + +“Then I am surprised at you. A young hefty lump of bone and muscle +prepared to accept fairy-tales! Shame on you!” + +“Fallières doesn’t strike me as being hysterical, nor does Yolande.” + +“Well, what will you do if you meet _IT_?” jested Conrad. + +“Hit it as hard as I know how.” + +“If it is not human, I don’t think that will disconcert it much.” + +“It will disconcert me if I don’t find something to stop my fist. What +a curious day it has turned out! I quite imagined we should be +sleeping in Rheims to-night.” + +“What does the poet say? ‘The best-laid schemes of mice and men----’ +Jove, what a night! A full moon and not a breath of wind. These are +sensible windows.” + +He pushed the casement open wider and leaned out. They were on the +side of the château facing the valley, and the drop from the window +to earth proper was tremendous, for below the level of the ground +floor there was nearly a hundred feet of buttress. + +“Fine place to commit suicide,” he said, flinging the end of his +cigarette into the abyss. “There it goes, down--down-- What was that?” + +“I heard nothing.” + +“I thought I heard a cry--kind of snarl. Must have been fancy.” + +“Imbibing the atmosphere,” said Wallace. “Now turn out. I’m going to +bed.” + +But Conrad still stood by the window with his head inclined to one +side. + +“I could have sworn----” + +The next moment a reverberating report came from within the building, +followed by a loud yelling. + +“Good God!” ejaculated Conrad. “That is Fallières’s voice. He is only +three rooms away. There is something wrong.” + +“Come on,” said Wallace, and made for the door. + +In the corridor they saw Yolande running towards them, clad in a +kimono, and some distance behind her old Severin, with an antiquated +firearm in his hand. + +“I heard a shot,” she gasped, “and a voice that sounded like my +father’s.” + +“Which is his room?” + +“There.” + +Wallace rapped on the door, and, receiving no reply, opened it +immediately. The room was empty, but the bed had been occupied, and +across the pillow was a long streak of blood. On the floor was an +automatic pistol, still warm. + +“Queer!” muttered Conrad. “How could he have left the room?” + +Wallace flung open the wardrobe cupboard and looked under the bed. He +turned round on Severin. + +“You heard the shot?” + +“Yes, m’sieu. I ran up the stairs and along the passage immediately. +The master never came that way or I should have seen him.” + +Wallace went to the window, which was partly open, but below was the +same abyss that fronted his own room. + +“He shot at something,” said Conrad. “Look, the bullet is embedded in +the wall here. He must have missed.” + +“It was the Monster,” croaked Severin, crossing himself. “Always he +comes at the full moon.” + +“Full moon--fiddlesticks!” retorted Conrad. “How could anyone get into +this room? The question is, where is Monsieur Fallières?” + +Wallace heard a low sob, and turned to see Yolande totter. He caught +her in his arms, and under Severin’s guidance carried her to her room. +Having sent for a maid, he went back to Conrad. The latter was sitting +on the bed, stroking his chin reflectively. + +“I don’t like the look of this,” he said. + +“Nor do I. Gad, it’s a bit uncanny. It seems impossible that anyone +could have left the room by the door without being observed in the +passage. But we mustn’t draw premature conclusions. I am going to +gather together a search-party.” + +“That seems to be the obvious thing to do. Let us make a start at +once.” + +The nerve-shattered Severin was found and some half-dozen male +servants were mustered. The main apartments of the château were +quickly ransacked, but there remained a very large number of +unoccupied rooms and annexes, and these took time. Ultimately the +possibility of finding Fallières inside the château was abandoned. +The extensive vaults were explored, but these provided no clue of any +kind towards the solution of the mystery. + +“The next thing is to make a search under the window of Fallières’s +room,” said Wallace. “We shall need lanterns or torches.” + +To reach this spot necessitated the descent of many flights of steps +leading from the terrace. That part of the cultivated grounds of the +château was given up to rock-gardens, interspersed with winding +gravel paths, by means of which, after a considerable detour, the more +exotic flower-gardens could be reached. Severin pointed out +Fallières’s still-lighted window, and the party walked to a spot +immediately beneath it. Thick ivy scrambled up the wall, but there was +no sign of any disturbance, and the freshly-raked gravel path showed +no footprints but their own. + +A search was made among the neighbouring bushes, but all in vain. They +returned by the long path, and ultimately reached the château, tired +out and baffled. Conrad dismissed the servants, and he and Wallace +went and sat in the drawing-room. + +“In the circumstances there is only one thing left to be done,” said +Conrad. + +“Notify the police?” + +“Yes. What the etiquette is in such matters I don’t know, but I should +imagine Paris will act immediately when it concerns a man so widely +known as Fallières. I will telephone the Préfecture now. I daresay +there will be considerable delay.” + +He put the call through, and returned to yarn with Wallace until he +was rung. Neither of them was a nervous man, but both looked very grim +and thoughtful. + +“We haven’t seen half the château,” said Wallace. “There were lots of +passages that Severin passed by.” + +“I noticed that--but the place is such a maze. Of course Severin was +scared stiff.” + +An hour passed before the telephone bell rang. Conrad went to the +instrument, and was engaged in conversation for some minutes. At +length he came back. + +“It appears I ought to have informed the local police,” he said. “But, +anyway, they are going to act at once. A good man is leaving Paris by +the next train. I’m afraid we shall not be able to leave in the +morning.” + +“Rather not. I’m keen on seeing this thing through. It looks +remarkably like murder to me.” + +The first glad light of the dawn appeared in the eastern sky before +they rose and went to their rooms. Even then Wallace did not undress, +but reclined on his bed, with ears alert. Sometimes in the dead +silence he thought he heard a woman sobbing. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + FOUCHARD + +Both Wallace and Conrad rang for their _petit déjeuner_ at a very +early hour, for their minds were too full of the hideous tragedy of +the preceding night to permit of comfortable repose. Severin, who +looked as if he had not been to bed, informed them that his young +mistress had passed a bad night, but refused to rest in her room. She +was now dressing. + +“What are we going to do now?” asked Conrad. + +“That depends upon Yolande.” + +“You think she will be glad of our company for a bit?” + +“Don’t you think that is probable? This man from Paris will turn the +place upside down, and ask a lot of painful questions. One thing is +certain--Fallières is either seriously wounded or dead.” + +“But where is he?” + +“That is the crux of the whole mystery. Connie, do you think the old +boy is to be trusted?” + +“You mean Severin?” + +“Yes. He acts very strangely at times. I had a feeling last night that +he was deliberately avoiding certain parts of the château; and he was +seen in the corridor immediately after we heard the shot fired.” + +“You are not suggesting that Severin shot his master and then hid him +somewhere?” + +“It’s as good a solution as any we have struck.” + +“Incredible. Fallières spoke most highly of Severin. No, Severin is +only suffering from fright. You forget that Severin has seen this +alleged monster, and we have not.” + +“It is hard to believe in monsters in the full light of day. I wonder +if we are all going mad.” + +“Mad or not, Fallières is missing. We should have to be mad indeed to +believe that he is perpetrating some practical joke. No, I fear we are +up against grim fact.” + +He turned as he heard a footstep behind him, and Yolande entered the +room. Her face was deathly pale, and it was evident that she had not +slept. + +“_Bon jour!_” she said. “I suppose there is no news?” + +“None. I ’phoned to the Préfecture of Police last night, and a good +man was despatched immediately. He should be here at any moment.” + +“Thank you.” + +She sat down limply, and Conrad took her hand in fatherly fashion. + +“You must not worry too much,” he murmured. “I admit the situation is +baffling, but hope must not be abandoned.” + +“I feel so powerless,” she replied. “Where is one to look--what is one +to do?” + +“Keep a stiff lip.” + +“I am not going to break down,” she said. “Nor will I leave a stone +unturned to solve this terrible mystery. For too long we have +tolerated it. You have breakfasted?” + +“Yes.” + +“And you will soon be leaving?” + +“That rests with you, mademoiselle. I am indebted to your father in +many ways, and if I could be of the least assistance, you have only to +command me. I know I can speak for my young friend here.” + +“Rather!” put in Wallace. + +“Then stay,” she pleaded. “If this strange thing is to be brought to +bay, it will need the strength and wits of men. I need your help, God +knows.” + +Wallace breathed a sigh of relief. He had the adventurous spirit, and +his blood was boiling at the atrocity that had been committed. +Man-hunt or ghost-hunt, it was all the same to him. He was brimming +over with vitality, and wanted nothing more than to get to grips with +this alleged monster. + +“We will consider that settled,” said Conrad calmly. + +A few minutes later a servant entered with a card. It bore the name of +Arnaud Fouchard, no more. + +“Fouchard,” mused Conrad. “I have heard that name.” + +“He is from the Préfecture of Police,” whispered Yolande. “It is the +dreaded Fouchard. All France knows of him.” + +“Good! He has certainly lost no time.” + +The great Fouchard was shown in. He was in plain clothes and of most +unprepossessing appearance. His face was like that of a Mongolian, and +he wore a scrubby little beard and moustache. In size he was +diminutive, but there was an alertness about him that reminded one of +a galvanised wire. He bowed low to Yolande. + +“You are Monsieur Fouchard?” she said. + +“At your service. Of course you are Mademoiselle Fallières?” + +She nodded, and introduced Wallace and Conrad as two friends of the +family--and guests. + +“Now we can go ahead,” he said. “I gathered that Monsieur Fallières +is missing and that you suspect foul play.” + +“That is so,” replied Conrad. “He disappeared from his room at about +twelve-thirty last night.” + +“Hm! Why do you suspect foul play?” + +“His bed had been occupied, and there is blood on the pillow.” + +“I will look at the room.” + +Yolande stayed below while Wallace and Conrad went to the room with +the officer. Nothing had been touched since the night before, except +that Conrad had possessed himself of the pistol. Fouchard examined the +pillow and the floor, and then walked to the window. + +“Nasty drop!” he muttered. “Tell me exactly what occurred, so far as +you are able.” + +Conrad narrated the incident, while Fouchard made minute shorthand +notes in a huge pocket-book. All the while he made queer facial +contortions. + +“Where is the pistol?” he snapped. + +Conrad produced it from his pocket. + +“Hm! One shot fired. I wish you had left it where you found it, +monsieur,” he said irritably. “How can you expect me to sort things +out if you play about with the evidence? Where did you find this?” + +Conrad pointed out the spot a trifle huffily, for he objected to the +tone of Fouchard. + +“When did you arrive here?” asked Fouchard. + +“Yesterday.” + +“Hm! You know Monsieur Fallières intimately?” + +“I don’t see what that has to do with the case. But if you insist, I +do not know him intimately. It was an old friendship unexpectedly +revived.” + +“You were in your room when the shot was fired?” + +“Yes--I have already said so.” + +“Was Monsieur Fallières at all apprehensive last night--before he +retired?” + +“Well--yes, he was. You may as well know the truth about this place, +monsieur. It is common gossip that it is haunted----” + +“Haunted! Pah!” + +“Yes, I guessed you would say that. I am only giving you the facts as +we have heard them. Mademoiselle Fallières will corroborate. The +story goes that a huge creature runs amok here, making horrid noises +at nights, and breaking mirrors. This kind of thing has been going on +for two years. Because of this, Monsieur Fallières was always armed. +The theory is that this monster came through the window and attacked +Monsieur Fallières----” + +“And carried him away? I ask you, monsieur, could any living creature +carry a burden down that wall?” + +Wallace, who was looking out of the window, suddenly made an +ejaculation. Fouchard swung round on him. + +“Here is something I didn’t notice before,” he said. “Look, there is +an iron spike driven between two blocks. If one could reach that, it +would be easy to step on to the ivy and mount to the north tower. The +roots are astonishingly thick.” + +Fouchard gazed at the projecting iron and the ivy and shook his head. + +“Quite impossible!” + +“I don’t agree,” retorted Wallace. “Why, I could do it myself.” + +“We are merely wasting time,” snapped Fouchard. + +“_You_ are,” replied Wallace. “I’ll show you whether it is +impossible.” + +Before Conrad could stop him, he stepped through the window, and, +clinging to the projecting iron, found a secure footing on the thick +ivy that went trailing towards the tower. + +“Take care!” warned Conrad. + +“It’s as tough as old Harry,” he called back, and went on with the +agility of an acrobat. + +In ten minutes he was seated astride the wall some thirty feet above +them, close to where the northern turret soared upwards. The acute +angle formed by the roof of the château prevented him from using his +feet, so he moved along the parapet leap-frog fashion until the round +wall of the tower brought him to a halt. + +“Come back!” yelled Conrad. + +He laughed and waved his hand, then made his way back again, entering +the window without much difficulty. + +“I could have climbed the tower,” he said. “The ivy goes right up to +the window. All the way along the ivy was worn, as if someone else had +used it. In two places it was broken.” + +“A splendid feat,” said Fouchard. “But it gets us no further. You +forget that you had no burden to carry, and you appear to be +exceptionally agile.” + +“There are other people in the world equally agile.” + +“Is there a man who could do that with another man on his back? No, it +is impossible.” + +“It’s the only solution that fits, anyway.” + +“It doesn’t fit. Personally, I am convinced that Monsieur Fallières +never made his exit through that window. Had he done so, we should +expect to find his mangled body down below.” + +Wallace shrugged his shoulders, and Fouchard intimated that he wished +to interrogate some of the servants. They let him go his way. + +“Is he an idiot, or is it only bluff?” asked Wallace. + +“I’m not sure. He looks a capable kind of person, but it is possible +that he has formed some other theory that he is not willing to +divulge.” + +“Well, if he had treated me with any kind of respect at all I would +have told him something else. Conrad, I saw blood marks on that ivy in +three different places. Incredible as it may sound, the person or +thing that entered Fallières’s room climbed the ivy as I did, with +Fallières on his back. By Jove, I can appreciate a feat of that +size!” + +“That is astounding.” + +“I know.” His face grew serious. “Conrad, I’m wondering whether it is +anything human we are up against.” + +“But why should he--or it--want to do such a thing?” + +“If he had killed Fallières he might want to dispose of the body. +After all, you cannot bring a conviction without identifying the +corpse.” + +Conrad winced. The whole affair was so fantastic it was difficult to +think logically. He thought he ought to have laughed at the theory of +a monster, but what was it that had entered Fallières’s room and +performed that astounding feat of acrobatics along the face of the +château? + +“A bit uncanny, this,” he confessed. + +“Interesting if it wasn’t for the fact of Fallières’s disappearance. +We’ve got to explore that tower--and without delay. Come, while friend +Fouchard is interviewing the servants.” + +They found the place with some difficulty. It was approached through a +gallery on the second floor of the big building. That end of the +château had not been occupied for a long period, and there was little +in the way of furniture. The turret itself was reached by a spiral +staircase, the space being so confined that one’s shoulders touched +the walls on either side. The chamber at the top was circular, and a +veritable masterpiece in architecture. The slabs of stone that +comprised it were beautifully dressed, and there was no sign of decay. +The chamber was bare save for a single oak seat near the leaded +window. + +“What a view!” exclaimed Conrad. Then, excitedly, “There is blood here +too. Look!” + +Wallace nodded as he gazed at the unmistakable stains on the +window-sill. He slipped the bolt of the window and poked his head +outside. A narrow gallery surrounded the turret, and over the low wall +scrambled the invincible ivy. + +“There used to be a door leading to the gallery,” said Conrad. “It was +here. You can see where it has been filled in. Probably some member of +the Grammont family committed suicide a century or two ago. But I can +scarcely yet swallow the fact that our mysterious friend carried a +man’s body up the tower and through this window.” + +“I wouldn’t care to try it myself,” agreed Wallace. + +“But isn’t the evidence conclusive?” + +“Fairly. But where is Fallières?” + +“The whole thing is sunk in mystery. It looks as if the corridor +through which we came connects up with the four turrets. One thing is +certain, the whole château will have to be searched if we are to hope +for any success. There are vaults and heaven knows what underneath.” + +“We must get Severin to pilot us round again. I can’t understand why +Fouchard should waste time interrogating the servants while there is +yet a chance of finding Fallières alive.” + +“You think so?” + +“Don’t you?” + +“No. Fallières’s mysterious assailant would not have run off with the +body except with the object of hiding it away. He would take good care +life was extinct.” + +“The whole business is most gruesome. Let us find Monsieur Fouchard +and see what conclusion he has arrived at.” + +“If any,” added Wallace. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + BAFFLED + +When they reached the ground floor Monsieur Fouchard was discovered +fully occupied. He was sitting at a table with his note-book before +him rapping out questions to Severin, whose nervousness was clearly +manifested. + +“You endorse this ridiculous story of a strange being who haunts the +château, Monsieur Severin?” + +“How can one help it?” stammered the old man. “If monsieur were in my +place he would know it is true.” + +“You have heard noises?” + +“Awful noises.” + +“Frequently?” + +“Yes.” + +“You have discovered things missing?” + +“Many things.” + +“What?” + +“Food, wine and----” + +“Food and wine are always missing in big establishments. But I will +get to the point. Have you ever seen a strange person anywhere in the +château?” + +Severin trembled visibly and then nodded his head. + +“Ah, we are getting warmer! Where did you see this person, and in what +circumstances?” + +“It was in the long west gallery--a year ago. He--it came towards me +and stopped within a few yards of me. Monsieur, I was terrified. I +tried to turn and run but could not. For a full minute he stood there +laughing at me and then--then I think I lost my senses. When I came to +there was nothing to be seen.” + +“You saw it plainly--as you see me now. It was no shadow--no trick of +the lighting?” + +“_Mon Dieu_, it was in broad daylight. He was immense and covered by a +robe--like a monk. A cowl was over his head and only his eyes and nose +were visible. Cruel eyes and a hooked nose. When he laughed at me it +was like no sound I had ever heard before.” Then in a burst of +hysteria, “It was he who killed the master--I know it.” + +“That will do, Monsieur Severin,” said Fouchard. “There is no other +servant who has seen this creature?” + +“No one, but all have heard him. No one in the village will come to +the château. They all know.” + +“Hm! That will do for the present.” + +Severin shuffled out and Fouchard put his book into his pocket. He +turned and glared at Wallace and Conrad. + +“The hallucination of an old man,” he grumbled. + +“It was no hallucination,” said Yolande quietly. “Severin is getting +old, but he has all his senses. I know it was no hallucination because +I too have seen this--this thing, and the description agrees +perfectly.” + +Fouchard raised his bushy eyebrows at this. + +“I had no idea.” + +“It was nearly two years ago. I am afraid you will have to accept +facts. There is something in this château--man, beast, or +spirit--that comes and goes and hides itself away successfully. I fear +it has murdered my poor father.” + +“Mademoiselle, I beg you not to draw premature conclusions,” urged +Fouchard. “I mean to have every inch of the château and the precincts +searched to-day. I trust you will permit me to use the servants as I +think fit?” + +“Do anything you wish. My one desire is to know the truth about my +father.” + +“Then we will get to work.” + +He bowed and left the room. Yolande came across to Wallace and Conrad. + +“What do you think of him?” she asked. + +“I am not sure whether he is not bluffing us,” said Conrad. “I think +he objects to our presence here, and Wallace has already stroked him +the wrong way.” + +“I don’t see why we should not all work together amicably,” said +Wallace. “After all, we have a common object in view. I happened to +discover something and immediately he pooh-poohed it; out of +professional jealousy, I suppose. He has made up his mind not to +accept Severin’s story.” + +“What have you discovered?” asked Yolande. + +Wallace hesitated, but she divined immediately that he had something +unpleasant to narrate and encouraged him. + +“Please don’t keep anything from me. I have suffered a terrible blow, +but I am trying to fight this thing. I have made up my mind to stay +here whatever happens. If this creature is human he must be brought to +justice. I want to know everything.” + +“Well, I discovered that your father’s room was apparently entered by +the window. Certainly his body was taken out that way. The north tower +could be reached by climbing the ivy--I have done it myself.” + +“But with a big burden as my father would have been?” + +“I think that even that is not impossible. At any rate, I found traces +of--of blood in several places, also on the window-sill in the tower.” + +“It--it is incredible!” + +“I know. But you must remember that, immediately after the shot was +fired, there were several persons in the corridor. Neither your father +nor his assassin could have left the room on that side without being +seen.” + +“That is true, but to take a human body up-- You have been to the +tower?” + +“Yes. The trail ends there. I have an idea that your father is +somewhere in this house.” + +“Fouchard is now organising a search. Oh, if one could only entertain +the faintest hope!” + +They said nothing, for there was nothing of comfort to be said. It +seemed so certain that Fallières had breathed his last in this world. + +At the suggestion of Wallace they took the Bentley and made a tour of +the district, leaving the search for the missing man in the hands of +Fouchard. The trip was beneficial to Yolande. She fell in love with +the car and for a time at least pushed the spectre into the +background. The forest embraced many thousand acres and was dotted +with woodmen’s huts, for it supplied fuel for the whole district. Here +and there were war-time scars, but it had not suffered greatly, and +the income from timber rights was considerable. + +“The Germans made good use of it,” said Yolande. “After the occupation +of the château they were able to withdraw with very few casualties.” + +“Are the woodmen in your employ?” asked Wallace. + +“Oh, no. They hold their cottages on small rentals, and have certain +timber rights. My father employs a ranger who sees that the younger +trees are preserved. He lives in the forest.” + +In order to keep her from thoughts of her father, Wallace suggested +she should drive the car. She accepted with obvious joy and quickly +made herself acquainted with the controls. He watched her eyes +brighten as she made a burst of speed along the straight road. + +“I am in love with it,” she said. “I feel I would like to head for +some distant place--Nice or Biarritz. It is a more lovable--more +intimate machine than the Hispano. That reminds me that Watkins is due +back this evening.” + +“Who is Watkins?” + +“The chauffeur. Yes, he is English, and most capable. We engaged him +because he understands electrical matters, and is able to look after +the power plant for the house. He speaks French--terrible French.” + +On the homeward journey the old spectre began to rear its ugly head +again. An atmosphere of gloom was entered immediately the towers of +the château came to view. Wallace gazed at Conrad and saw that his +friend’s mouth was firmly set. Yolande looked pale, and her small +hands were clenched in her lap. + +For the rest of the day the two guests prowled around the château, +exploring outbuildings. When evening came, they had discovered +nothing. Of Fouchard there had been no sign since the morning. Severin +informed them that he had seen the detective going towards the forest. + +“Has he sent the servants to make a search?” asked Wallace. + +“Not to my knowledge, monsieur. The gardeners have been working in the +greenhouse, and the indoor staff is in the servants’ hall.” + +“Looks as if his search party comprises himself,” growled Conrad. +“Mysterious devil!” + +Shortly before dinner the two men were sitting in front of the +château enjoying the wonderful sunset. But with the declining sun +came an eerie sensation. Wallace laughed suddenly. + +“What’s the matter?” ejaculated Conrad. + +“We’re getting nervy, old man. It’s this sense of impotence. If only +we were at grips with the problem it would be better. Where the devil +is one to start?” + +“We ought to have carried out a more thorough search on our own,” said +Conrad. “I thought Fouchard was going to do it on a grand scale. +Whatever may be his attitude, I am going to waste no more time. Let us +collar Severin in the morning and ransack the place. If only we find +Fallières’s body, that will be something achieved. The tension must +be terrible for Yolande. She is magnificently courageous, but I am +sure it would be better for her to know the worst than to be kept in +this awful suspense.” + +“I’m with you. But what on earth is Fouchard doing?” + +“Here comes Yolande. Perhaps she has news.” + +Yolande was half way across the courtyard, and the two men were making +towards her when she suddenly stopped and uttered a cry. Her eyes were +turned towards the north tower which was silhouetted against the +crimsoning sky. Wallace looked up and gasped at what he saw. Standing +in the narrow gallery that surrounded the tower was an immense figure, +clad like a Capuchin monk. The arms were folded and it stood perfectly +still--looking down into the wide courtyard. + +“Look!” + +“My God!” ejaculated Conrad. + +“That is--he,” said Yolande in a weak voice. + +Wallace caught her by the arm and pointed to the garage. + +“The chauffeur has just returned. Please go and talk to him--it is +safer. There is just a chance we may collar that thing.” + +“Yes--yes. But take care. Oh, take care!” + +“Have no doubt on that score,” he replied grimly. + +She turned away and he swung round on Conrad, who was watching the +still figure on the tower. + +“Now’s the time, Connie. Have you got that pistol?” + +“No, worse luck. Fouchard took it.” + +“Never mind. We can pick up something on our way. There’s no time to +waste. I reckon I can get into the top gallery before he can leave it. +Follow me!” + +With this he bolted for the main entrance. Conrad lost no time in +following. Older man as he was, he was fit in wind and limb, and was +good in an emergency. By the time he reached the hall, Wallace was out +of sight. His eye caught a gleam of shining steel and he wrested a +short sword from its hangings. With a low growl of excitement he +followed hot on the heels of his young friend. + +Panting, he reached the first landing, but Wallace had outstripped him +easily. He made up the next flight of stairs at breakneck pace and +eventually emerged into the top gallery. Dark as it was, he could see +Wallace ahead of him with an awful-looking bludgeon in his hand. +Wallace turned and beckoned him. He joined him in a few seconds. + +“Any sign?” he whispered. + +“No. But I don’t think he could have got away in the few seconds it +has taken me to get here. I believe we have him cornered.” + +“I’d like to think so.” + +“The trouble lies in the tower itself. It is so infernally dark. I +wish we had brought an electric torch. There is no lighting up there. +Anyway, you hang on to me. He ought not to floor the pair of us.” + +“No, but we ought to have taken the precaution of laying in firearms. +If he happens to have an automatic----” + +“Better not think about it. Are you ready?” + +“Yes.” + +They crept along the remainder of the gallery and came to the entrance +to the tower. Wallace pushed open the door slowly and then crept +through. Before them was the dark, forbidding stone spiral staircase. +Wallace slipped off his shoes and when Conrad had done likewise the +ascent began. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + THE UNEXPECTED + +In the pitch darkness the two men mounted the stone steps, fully +expecting a savage assault at any moment. So quiet was everything that +the sound of their breathing seemed tremendous. Wallace took comfort +from the fact that a revolver bullet would have to be fired within a +yard or two to inflict any injury--close enough for him to use the +cudgel to effect. + +Round and round they went, each counting the steps mentally. There +were sixty-three of them all told. Outside the door, Conrad was +enabled to come to the side of his companion. He gripped the +dangerous-looking sword tighter as Wallace opened the door. + +“Empty!” + +The ejaculation leaped from Wallace’s lips. The interior was well +lighted by the sunset, and the window was bolted on the inside. Conrad +passed his hand across his brow, which was clammy with perspiration. + +“Gone!” he said. “How the devil----” + +“He may be outside.” + +“How could he fasten the window behind him?” + +“How does he manage to perform all these astonishing tricks?” + +He was not satisfied until he had opened the window and climbed +through it in order to see if the mysterious figure was making a +retreat along the ivy. But there was no sign of him. He rejoined his +companion. + +“He must have slid along the corridor like lightning,” he said. “He +had to climb through the window, descend sixty-three stairs, and run +the whole length of the corridor while I was getting up stairs. I +could have sworn it was impossible.” + +“We are evidently dealing with a creature of amazing agility. By Jove, +what a size it was--at least seven feet.” + +“Big men as a rule are not very agile. But, assuming he beat us in the +race, where did he vanish to?” + +“There are the other towers and probably many outlets--old staircases +and so forth.” + +“It is very disappointing.” + +“It is--in a way. Yet I think we were mad to attempt to nab him with +nothing but a club and an old sword. This man is a killer--have no +doubt about that. In future I am going to carry something more deadly +than an antique sword.” + +“What are we to do now?” + +“Nothing until the morning. We’ll take the car and run into the +nearest place that has firearms for sale. This game has long passed +the pastime stage. I think I can hear the dinner-gong. Lord, I can do +with a bottle of wine.” + +On reaching the lower regions, they were surprised to find Yolande in +conversation with a stranger. He was a portly individual, and had a +rough bandage round his head. + +“Well?” asked Yolande excitedly. + +“We were too late. He had vanished.” + +“I feared he would.” + +“His good luck won’t hold for ever,” said Wallace. “If I could have +knocked two seconds off my time I believe we should have got him.” + +Yolande shook her head, and then suddenly burst a surprise upon them. + +“This gentleman is Arnaud Fouchard,” she said. + +“Fouchard--Arnaud Fouchard!” gasped Conrad, staring at the new +arrival. + +“Yes, monsieur--_the_ Arnaud Fouchard.” + +“But we-- I don’t understand this.” + +“I should have arrived early this morning, but there seems to have +been a little conspiracy afoot. There was but one conveyance at the +station and I engaged it. I admit I was badly tricked. The driver +stopped the car some four miles from the château and swore he had a +puncture. He was clever enough to hit me here with the handle of the +jack and to deposit my body in a foul pit. That is a little incident I +shall not forget in a hurry.” + +“Great Scott! But who was the man who came-- I get you now. That +little wretch with the scrubby beard was the man who drove you?” + +“Precisely. He removed my card-case and my money. I was hoping I +should find him here.” + +“He has not returned since this morning.” + +“Nor will he return.” + +“I am not quite clear on this,” said Wallace. “Why should that man +want to masquerade as you?” + +“Merely to get inside the house and to keep me off the trail for a +bit. He certainly succeeded in knocking me out for ten hours, but here +I am.” + +“This gets more and more involved,” said Conrad. “He must have had an +important object.” + +“Yes, a keen desire to know how much you knew about this--this +mysterious disappearance. He had an opportunity of questioning +everybody, and, having learned all he wanted to know, he vanished.” + +“But how could he have known you were on your way to the château?” +asked Yolande. + +“There we approach the edge of the conspiracy--whatever it may be. +Someone in this house knew that a message had gone to Paris over the +telephone--someone in touch with our masquerading friend. There is but +one train from Paris to Arveyes after midnight. There were few +passengers, and I think I am fairly well known to most people with +criminal tendencies. That brings three persons into the case--the +phantom whom I believe you have just seen, the man with the scrubby +beard who knocked me out, and the person in the château who +communicated with the latter.” + +“It may have been the Monster who overheard,” suggested Yolande. + +“Possibly--but I doubt it.” + +“You had better join us at dinner,” said Yolande. “You are looking +fatigued, and some refreshment will revive you.” + +“Thank you,” he replied with a smile. “Fortunately ‘Bluebeard’ left my +suit-case with my injured person. I will join you very soon.” + +Severin was called and, taking the suit-case, showed Fouchard to his +room. Yolande sighed as she turned to the other two. + +“What will happen next?” she asked pensively. + +“At any rate, a little progress has been made,” said Wallace. “We now +know that there is more than one person in this business. And I +certainly like the real Fouchard better than the false.” + +“Are there any servants in the house whom you have cause to mistrust?” +enquired Conrad. + +“I know of none. But we are changing them so often that it is +difficult to say. Severin of course knows more about them than I. We +engaged three new ones a month ago.” + +Fouchard was not long in changing his clothes and removing most of the +signs of his adventure. He seemed a jovial kind of personage and not +at all secretive. His appetite was enormous and he made the most of +the excellent meal. Yolande, however, ate very little. It was obvious +that, despite her patience and fortitude, she was suffering from +terrible anxiety. + +“You have heard all about this affair?” asked Wallace of Fouchard, +when the last course was served. + +“Mademoiselle has put me in possession of most of the facts. It would +be vain to pretend that I have any theory to propound so far. The only +thing that is evident is that certain persons are in league to achieve +some object as yet unknown.” + +“Yet this has been going on for two years.” + +“Big schemes require time. The fact that this has been going on for so +long leads one to the conclusion that great things are at stake. If I +can only lay hands on that little ruffian who molested me, I warrant I +will make him talk up.” + +“Is that as important as laying hands on the Monster?” + +Fouchard stroked his chin. It was clear that the phantom puzzled him +deeply. He could see no logical connection between the breaking of +mirrors and the befouling of furniture, and the perpetration of any +ordinary crime. + +“This flinging of muck savours of Sadism,” he mused. + +“What is Sadism?” asked Wallace. + +“A kind of moral perversion. There was a Marquis de Sade who delighted +in propagating a new cult. It is not a pleasant subject and is better +left alone. But I should like to provide a test. Has mademoiselle any +objection to having a big mirror installed in one of the +reception-rooms?” + +“I’ll do anything that will help,” replied Yolande. + +“Very good. But there are more pressing duties. I want to get the +lay-out of the château. At the same time we can institute a search +for Monsieur Fallières. I propose to make a start in half an hour.” + +This was more like business, and Wallace became enthusiastic +immediately. There were no firearms in the château, but Fouchard was +well prepared. He possessed a small armoury and offered to lend the +other two men automatics, which offer they accepted. + +“I want to be frank about this,” he said. “The circumstances attending +the disappearance of Monsieur Fallières point to the existence of +considerable danger. I suggest that it might be advisable if +mademoiselle were to pay a visit to some friends.” + +Yolande shook her head determinedly. + +“I know there is danger,” she added. “I feel that my poor father has +been savagely murdered, but I refuse to leave this place. For years he +faced the danger, and I will face it too. Please act as if I were not +here.” + +“Very well. One thing, however, I would advise. Severin informed me +that your room was some distance from the other occupied rooms. I +would counsel you changed it for one nearer mine, or of these two +gentlemen.” + +She agreed to have this change made immediately, and chose the room +next to that occupied by Wallace, access to which there was positively +none except by the door. + +“Now we will call Monsieur Severin,” said Fouchard. + +When the butler heard what was required of him he displayed distinct +signs of nervousness. Apparently there were parts of the château +which he preferred to let alone after darkness had fallen. + +“We want to go all over the place, monsieur,” said Fouchard. “In every +room, cupboard, and corner.” + +“But there are parts of the château unlighted,” stammered Severin. + +“Watkins will provide you with electric torches,” said Yolande and +overcame that obstacle. + +“Very good, mademoiselle,” mumbled Severin. “I will get them at once.” + +“I suppose he _is_ to be trusted,” said Conrad. + +“You need have no doubt about that. He is merely nerve-shattered. Poor +Severin--I shall have to give him a holiday.” + +A few minutes later Severin presented himself again. He carried two +large hand-lamps, and asked if the gentlemen were ready. + +“Quite ready,” said Fouchard. “You would prefer to stay here, +mademoiselle?” + +“Yes. I am a little fatigued.” + +“I’ll take one of those lamps,” said Fouchard. “I think we will make a +start at the top and work our way down. Lead on!” + +Then began an excursion which was somewhat eerie. The top gallery of +the château had no illumination of any kind, and the electric lamps +had to be brought into use. As Wallace had surmised, the four towers +were identical, and were connected by the gallery which entirely +circumscribed the big building. Their boots echoed on the flagstones, +and the lamps threw strange shadows. Severin advanced slowly, talking +a lot, probably to bolster up his nerves. From the western gallery +there was an old staircase leading to the lower floor. + +“We will go down there on our return,” said Fouchard. “Now I shall be +glad if you will show me where you found the bloodstains, Monsieur +Wallace.” + +Severin nearly dropped the lamp at this remark. In the north tower +Wallace pointed out the stains, and explained how it was possible to +reach it from several rooms on the first floor by climbing the ivy. He +expected that Fouchard would ridicule his theory about the carrying of +Fallières’s body, but he merely inclined his head. + +“This part seems to be plain sailing,” he said. “There seem to be but +two ways down--the main staircase, and the passage we passed just now. +We will descend.” + +The alternative staircase was a curious affair. It wound between the +walls and took an enormous distance to connect with the lower floor. +Here the business was much more complicated, for the building had +evidently been altered at several periods and there were all kinds of +connecting passages and dead ends. + +“Quite a maze!” said Fouchard. “One needs a plan to get the hang of +it.” + +Suddenly there was a curious squeak, and something dark hit him in the +face. + +“Only a bat,” he muttered. “Ah, that is better. We can now see what we +are doing.” + +This as Severin found an electric light switch and illuminated the +surroundings. There were a dozen or so rooms, mostly unfurnished, and +in all of them the patient Fouchard went. Severin with his huge bunch +of keys opened all sorts of queer chambers, and in every case things +were in order. The ground floor was equally well searched, and Severin +led the way to the cellars. + +These vaults extended the full length of the château in a series of +arches. A portion of the space was given up to wine-bins, which were +plentifully stocked. Here and there was an electric light, but on the +whole the place was gloomy, and very damp. In one spot the water had +percolated through the walls, leaving a thin layer of mud on the +ground. Fouchard was stepping gingerly over this when he noticed +something and stooped down. Bringing the light of the electric lamp to +his aid, he observed two enormous footprints. + +“Interesting!” he said. “Our monster walks here, and his last visit +was within twenty-four hours.” + +“What a foot!” gasped Conrad. “Why, it is four inches longer than +mine.” + +“The foot of a seven-foot man, unless he is abnormal in that respect. +They point this way. Lead on, Severin!” + +But Monsieur Severin collapsed on an old keg. His lips moved +nervelessly and he shook his head. + +“I have never been farther than this, monsieur. I--I am afraid I feel +unwell.” + +“Sorry to hear that,” said Fouchard in a sympathetic voice. “Stay here +and rest while we investigate.” + +To stay there alone was not at all to Severin’s taste. He pulled +himself together, and averred that the faintness had passed. + +“I’ll go first,” said Fouchard. “I want to see if there are any more +footprints.” + +So Monsieur Severin insinuated his person between Fouchard and +Wallace, and seemed to be much more at ease. Fouchard kept the beam of +the electric lamp fixed on the ground, but no more footprints came to +view. They came up against a blank wall covered with cobwebs and snail +trails, and the passage took a sharp bend to the left. + +“Catacombs!” said Fouchard. “Hello, what is that?” + +Stooping down, he picked up a small shining object. It proved to be a +hairpin. + +“The third side of the triangle,” he said. “The woman in the case. A +blonde, I fancy.” + +“How do you arrive at that conclusion?” asked Conrad. + +“It is hypothetical, but I doubt if any woman other than a blonde +would use tortoiseshell hairpins. They do not go well with dark hair. +How many blonde women are there in the establishment, Monsieur +Severin?” + +“I can remember only two.” + +“Hm! We will see them later. I presume that in the ordinary way none +of the female staff would come down here?” + +“No, monsieur.” + +Fouchard seemed quite delighted with his discovery, and moved forward +at a quicker pace. A series of recesses came to view. Some of them +contained old gardening tools and empty kegs. In one of them Fouchard +noticed a very large wine-barrel standing on its end. + +“A fine fellow that,” he said. + +“It was used as a rain-water tub,” explained Severin. “But it began to +leak and was brought down here six months ago. It is now a receptacle +for empty bottles.” + +“My God--look at that!” + +The cry came from Conrad, and his finger was pointing to a dark patch +at the base of the huge vessel. A low cry came from Fouchard. In a +moment he pulled aside the covering and flashed the torch inside the +barrel. + +“At last,” he said. + +“You mean----” + +“We have found Monsieur Fallières.” + +With tense expressions all gazed inside. The late owner of the +château lay on a pile of bottles, face upturned, and his throat cut +from ear to ear. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + BERTHA + +Conrad shuddered as he gazed at the limp corpse. Here was all that +remained of their charming host. The man who had done so much for the +Château Grammont now lay in a wine-barrel, drenched in his own blood. + +“This is monstrous!” he said. “He was one of the finest gentlemen in +France.” + +“My poor master!” almost sobbed Severin. + +“Poor Yolande!” said Wallace, whose thoughts naturally turned to the +bereaved daughter. + +“A savage affair,” mused Fouchard. “The work of a razor if I am not +mistaken. There are some curious anomalies here. The murderer goes to +all the trouble to remove the corpse from the bedroom, performing an +acrobatic feat along the ivy. At tremendous risk he somehow transports +the body through the house, and then he has no more sense than to hide +it here. There were fifty better places. Yes, it is somewhat strange.” + +“Where does this woman come in?” asked Conrad. + +“I don’t know. I don’t know where our scrubby-bearded masquerader +comes in either. What is most puzzling of all is the motive.” + +“What is to be done now?” + +“I must get into touch with the local police. So long as it was a mere +disappearance I could act alone, but now murder is obvious I am bound +to notify the local authorities. I am afraid the château will be +bombarded with a lot of dunderheads and journalists.” + +“We have to break the news to Yolande. Poor--poor girl,” said Conrad. + +“I think she has accepted the fact already,” said Fouchard. “It must +have been obvious.” + +He replaced the top of the barrel, and resumed his investigations. +Nothing new came to light, and ultimately the quartet stood in the +hall of the château. + +“Who--who will tell her?” whispered Conrad. + +“It would come best from you, I think,” replied Fouchard. + +“Very well.” + +The exceedingly painful task was carried out. Yolande’s face went as +pale as death, and for a moment she looked as if she would collapse, +but she recovered herself. + +“I--I knew it,” she said in a strangled voice. “Thank you--thank you +for all you have done. I--I think I will go to my room now.” + +She left them--a pathetic little figure with a vast load of sorrow on +her young head. Wallace bit his lip as she vanished, and felt a queer +lump rise in his throat. Fouchard swung round on Severin whose eyes +were full of tears. + +“What of these two blonde women--who are they?” + +“One is Thérèse--a chambermaid. She comes from Provence and is +young--not yet eighteen. She has been with us for six months.” + +“Fair hair?” + +“Yes.” + +“Long?” + +“No--very short. She looks almost like a boy. I can vouch for her +respectability, monsieur, for she is the daughter of an old friend of +mine.” + +“And the other?” + +“An older woman. She is called Bertha, and is Swiss, I believe.” + +“Long hair?” + +“Yes, monsieur. A large head of hair, coiled up in plaits. One might +call it red.” + +“Ah! How long has she been here?” + +“A month. She was engaged as a parlourmaid.” + +“I would like to see this Bertha. Find some excuse to send her in +here. A little cognac might be a good thing after our investigations.” + +Severin bowed and went out. Fouchard flung himself into a chair and +bit his finger nails. + +“I shall not ring up the police now,” he said. “Perhaps you would be +good enough to drive me into Arveyes early in the morning. We can +bring the doctor and the local officer back with us.” + +“Certainly,” said Wallace. + +A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and a woman entered +with cognac and glasses. She was extremely well built and +good-looking. Her age might have been anything between twenty-eight +and thirty-five. Fouchard pretended not to see her, but it was fairly +evident that he had her under observation the whole time. She put the +tray on the table. Fouchard suddenly stared straight at her. + +“I seem to remember you, mademoiselle,” he said pleasantly in French. +“Yes, I am sure of it.” + +“I do not remember monsieur,” she replied. + +“Then I have a better memory than you. It was at Lyons, I believe. In +a hotel called----” + +“You are mistaken. I have never been in Lyons.” + +“That is strange. Was it Switzerland?” + +“It is true I come from Switzerland, but all the same I think monsieur +is mistaken.” + +“Was it Geneva?” + +“I come from Berne,” she said. “I am Bernois.” + +Fouchard suddenly changed from French into a peculiarly guttural +language. Bertha laughed and made some reply. + +“Well, one can always be mistaken,” said Fouchard. “Pour out the +cognac please.” + +While she filled the three glasses Wallace noticed a dexterous +movement of Fouchard’s hand. It was done so swiftly that he did not +realise at the moment what it signified. + +“Thank you,” said Fouchard. “Please leave the decanter.” + +She walked majestically from the room, and Fouchard sighed as she +closed the door. + +“I am fortunate in being able to speak Swiss-German,” he said. “In +fact, I speak it better than she does. Our charming Bertha was never +born anywhere outside Germany.” + +“So she lied?” + +“Oh, yes--she was compelled to. I like her hairpins too.” + +He opened his hand and displayed a hairpin, which with that dexterous +movement which Wallace had observed, he had contrived to extract from +her abundant hair. + +“Now we have a beautifully matched pair, I think.” + +From his waistcoat pocket he produced the one he had picked up in the +cellar. They were exactly alike. + +“That means she----” + +“It means we have really made a start. It is a curious thing that +there is nearly always a woman mixed up in any crime or mystery. Some +of them are hard nuts to crack, and Bertha, I imagine, comes into that +category. It was Bertha who heard Monsieur Conrad talking to Paris on +the telephone, and it was Bertha who at once communicated with our +whiskered friend in order that he should delay my arrival. Yet you +probably noticed she was perfectly composed while she was here. A +brazen-faced woman that.” + +“Pretty, too,” said Conrad. + +“The pretty ones are the worst. Excellent cognac this.” + +He was now in the best of humours, quite unlike his two companions, +who were not used to such grim situations, and whose minds were +occupied with the awful tragedy that had been enacted so recently. + +“It grows late,” said Conrad. “I think I will retire.” + +“I too,” said Wallace. + +“I think it would be wise to keep your doors locked,” said Fouchard. +“People who run amok with razors are awkward visitors.” + +“A thick-skinned devil,” said Conrad as they walked up the stairs. “He +is just beginning to enjoy himself.” + +Wallace read for an hour or so in bed, for his brain was far too +active to permit of sleep. His life so far had been singularly free of +unpleasant incidents--apart from the loss of his parents. With ample +means at his disposal, he had enjoyed himself in a healthy, moderate +fashion, and had never troubled to delve into the gloomy side of life. +A murder read about in the papers was not a very exciting business. +One felt too far away from it, the assassin and victim assuming the +rôle of more or less lifeless puppets. They were scarcely more real +to him than Othello or any other character of drama. + +The affair at the château aroused very different feelings. +Excitement, sympathy, and repugnance were strangely mixed. Here he was +in the very arena--no longer a spectator, but a participant. There was +danger too, without doubt, or the case-hardened Fouchard would not +have given warning. Despite his lack of “nerves” he could not help +experiencing a certain apprehension. The fear of injury or even +violent death had never crossed his mind. What he loathed was the idea +of being taken unawares, as Fallières had been. If only this phantom +form would come into the open and wage battle! + +His eyes wandered from the printed page every few minutes, and his +ears were alert for any strange sound. Then he laughed as he reflected +that with all his youth and strength he was not proof against spectres +born of the nocturnal stillness, and of the tragic and inexplicable +happenings of the past two days. + +He slept at last and did not open his eyes until the morning sun +flooded the room. He went to the garage quite early and found Watkins +washing the Hispano car. The chauffeur had already heard of the +discovery of the night before and could talk of nothing else. + +“I nearly ran over a black cat on my way back,” he whispered +confidentially. “Is there any clue, sir?” + +“Not yet,” replied Wallace guardedly. “It is a very sad business.” + +He got his own car out and drove it to the main entrance in order to +save time. Conrad came down and intimated that he would stay at the +château while Wallace drove Fouchard into Arveyes. + +“Sleep well?” enquired Wallace. + +“Devil a bit. I had awful dreams. Shall you be back to lunch?” + +“I suppose so. It depends how long Fouchard takes to do his business. +Ah, here he comes.” + +“All ready?” said Fouchard cheerily. “That’s a very neat little car. +Looks like a thoroughbred.” + +“I flatter myself it is.” + +“Well, let us make a start. I want to get back as soon as possible.” + +He seated himself beside Wallace, and the car moved down the drive. It +was a dead straight road to Arveyes, and they entered the dirty little +town in half an hour. The police station was a single room in a +five-story building, and the “gendarmerie” consisted of two men. They +received the famous Fouchard as they might a foreign potentate. +Wallace saw it all through the window, and smiled at the stagelike +gesticulations and the look of blank amazement that followed the +reception of the news. + +After some delay, Fouchard appeared with one of the officers. A doctor +was picked up at the end of the narrow street, and Fouchard announced +that he was ready to return. In the back seat the doctor and the +gendarme were in agitated conversation. Wallace overheard snatches +from time to time, though their voluble French was not easy to follow. + +“Murdered! _Mon Dieu!_ It will be the talk of the countryside.” + +“Ah, monsieur le docteur, the château has a bad reputation. One hears +strange stories. No woman from the village will work there. They +say----” + +“Nothing like a murder to appeal to the common mind,” whispered +Fouchard. “I warrant that within half an hour every living soul in +Arveyes knows what has happened, and every one of them will have a +theory.” + +They were speeding along the straight road at a fine rate when Wallace +noticed a car approaching. As the road was narrow he slowed down in +order to pass without undue risk. It was when the other car was within +fifty yards that Fouchard uttered a loud ejaculation. His eyes were +riveted on the driver of it, and Wallace suddenly realised why. It was +the little man who had masqueraded as Fouchard on the day before. + +“Stop!” said Fouchard. + +But Wallace had already jammed on the brakes. He looked for some place +to turn the car, but there was none. + +“I’ll lose him if I go on. I am going to risk turning here,” he said. +“Lean over to the right.” + +He put the car on full lock and took the sloping bank. The wheels +mounted until the car was at a fearful angle, and the passengers went +pallid, but he knew the lock to an inch and the wheels came down to +the horizontal plane, with the bonnet of the car facing the +disappearing vehicle. Two quick gear changes and he was in “top” and +treading on the accelerator. + +“We’ve got him now, I guess,” he said. “Hold tight!” + +The note of the exhaust rose higher and higher, and Fouchard saw the +speedometer needle register fifty--fifty-five--sixty, sixty-five, +seventy. + +“_Mon Dieu!_” he gasped. + +Still the hand moved round, but slower than before. + +“What are we doing?” asked Wallace whose eyes were on the road. + +“Seventy-four--seventy-six.” + +“I thought it was child’s play,” he growled. “Gosh, I don’t know what +he has got there, but I can’t gain an inch.” + +“Seventy-eight,” said Fouchard. “He has taken the road for Lefroy. +Take care--it is a bad turning.” + +The speedometer needle made a rapid movement backwards, and Wallace +took the bend at fifty. Far ahead of him was the fugitive car. He +fumbled with the controls, determined not to be beaten. A little less +air and a touch on the ignition control brought the best from the +willing engine. Eighty miles an hour was reached, and then eighty-two. + +“I’ve got her all out,” he shouted. “I can’t get another mile from +her. And I’m damned if we are gaining.” + +“If only I had got his number,” moaned Fouchard. + +“There are some binoculars in the pocket--your side. They are good +ones. I’ll hang on while you get the number.” + +Fouchard dived for the pocket. In a few seconds the glasses were at +his eyes. + +“Got it!” he cried triumphantly. “You can let him go now.” + +“He’s going,” replied Wallace dismally. “He is five miles an hour +better at least. Why, the thing looked like a transmogrified Ford. +This is the saddest day of my life.” + +At the next turning he put the car round and ambled to the château at +a respectable “forty.” + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + SUSPENSE + +A few days later Monsieur Fallières’s body was laid to rest in the +little cemetery behind the chapel. A verdict of murder by person or +persons unknown was brought in, and the whole French Press was full of +the strange story. As Fouchard had prognosticated, the château was +bombarded with reporters eagerly seeking for more details. + +“Have nothing to do with those fellows,” said Fouchard. “They’ll twist +anything you say to make a new story. It is a pity the thing has +become public property.” + +“What are the local police doing?” + +“They have left the case to Paris. It is more or less in my hands.” + +“What about the car we chased?” asked Wallace. “Have you made any +enquiries?” + +“Yes. But the number was a false one. It happened to be the number of +a big Renault owned by a respectable lawyer in Paris. These people are +leaving nothing to chance.” + +“And Bertha?” + +“I have not done with Bertha yet. She needs careful watching. If I +arrested her we should defeat our own ends. I rely upon Bertha to lead +us to the solution. Mademoiselle is sending her on an errand this +afternoon--during which time I shall break into her room and interest +myself in her belongings.” + +In the meantime Yolande was making a brave attempt to rise above her +bereavement. Strangely enough, she did not go into full mourning, but +merely changed from her light summer attire into a darker dress. + +“It was always my father’s wish,” she explained. “He held strong +opinions on the subject. Death he regarded as a mere change--a +stepping-stone into a freer existence. He would not have wished me to +wear mourning.” + +“You are wonderful,” said Wallace admiringly. “I know how deep was +your affection. I shall never be happy until I know that your father +is avenged.” + +“I only want justice, not vengeance,” she said. + +“Won’t you come for a walk? It is a beautiful morning and the woods +afford some shelter from this sweltering sun.” + +“I think I should like to.” + +He found a walking stick and they left the château, taking the +footpath that led to the higher land. On the previous day all the +woodmen had joined the police in beating the whole district, but all +to no purpose. + +“It was good of you to stay,” she said. “It has been a great comfort +having friends at hand.” + +“It was generous of you to accommodate us. We had no fixed programme +and had made arrangements to be away a month. Only a week has yet +passed, although it seems thrice as long.” + +“I fear you must have seen quite enough of the château by this time.” + +“Not a bit. It is quite a novelty staying here, and--and I want to +help--if I can.” + +“You have helped already by your companionship. Look, there is Jacques +Renan’s little girl picking flowers. She is a sweet child.” + +The little mite in the print dress turned her head and saw the +approaching pair. She ran forward with her hands full of fragrant +flowers and offered them to Yolande. + +“_Merci, ma petite_,” she said, and lifted the child in her arms to +kiss the dimpled cheeks. + +“How pretty she is,” said Wallace. + +“S-sh! You must not make her vain.” + +“But she does not understand English?” + +“I think any woman understands a compliment, no matter in what tongue +it is spoken. How I envy these peasants! They have no great château +to trouble about--no conspiracies against their existence.” + +“And how they envy you,” he replied. + +“Only because they do not know that wealth is nothing in itself. +Jacques chops and sells his logs. He has a comfortable home and a good +wife. They have health and strength--and love.” + +“Love is denied no one.” + +“Is it not? You forget that I have lost the one I loved most in the +world.” + +“I had not forgotten. How could I?” + +“Forgive me,” she said. “That was an undeserved rebuke.” + +“How well you speak English,” he said. “I wish I could hope to speak +French half as well.” + +“Then you must marry a French woman,” she said. “It is the only way +the English ever get to speak French. Shall I introduce you to a nice +girl I know?” + +He laughed, for he was pleased that she could indulge in banter at +such a moment. + +“I am not a marrying man,” he said. “I fear I have caught the +complaint from Conrad.” + +She kissed the child again and put her on her feet. + +“Can you lend me a franc?” she asked. + +He produced the coin, and she slipped it into the child’s hand and +told her to buy bonbons. + +“Would that we could purchase happiness so easily,” she sighed. + +They walked on through the leafy vista, with birds carolling on all +sides. In an open space they saw Jacques cutting logs with his queer +little hand-saw--a narrow strip of metal fixed in a frame that was +like an elongated fret-saw. He raised his hat as he saw Yolande, and +begged to offer her his condolences. + +“Thank you, Jacques!” she said. “I hope your wife is well.” + +“_Elle va bien_,” he replied. + +“A splendid man,” she said to Wallace. “He rose to the rank of captain +in the war. But he is very modest of his achievements, and never +mentions them.” + +For two hours they roamed through the woody glades, and Wallace got a +new insight into the character of Yolande. Mistress of the château +and the vast forest lands, she was at heart the simplest woman on +earth. He told himself that many a girl of her years would have +suffered from a sense of her own importance, for there was no doubt +that she was fabulously rich. But all her interest was in the simpler +things of life--the birds and flowers with which the forest abounded, +in cities and towns that she had visited, and people she had met, at +school and elsewhere. + +“So you are an engineer?” she said. + +“I hope to be. As yet I fear I am an encumbrance.” + +“I do not believe it. But it must be splendid to make things that +work. If I were a boy I should beg you to take me as an apprentice. I +suppose if every woman had the choice of sex almost all would choose +to be men.” + +“It is very fortunate they have no such option.” + +“You like women?” + +“I don’t get on with them, anyway.” + +“I will never believe that.” + +“It is true. The only girl I ever got to know intimately told me I was +an insufferable prig. Probably there was a great amount of truth in +it. Connie was present at the time, and thought it was the greatest +joke on earth. She had asked me how I liked her dress and I said it +was awful.” + +Her laughter rang through the woods, but she stopped it quickly, as if +she were ashamed to give vent to amusement at such a time. + +“It’s good to hear you laugh,” he said softly. “Connie said he +remembered you as one who was always laughing--always merry. You are +going to be merry again.” + +“Perhaps,” she said. “How frank you are, and how good to want to cheer +me up when I need it so much.” + +Her eyes were turned on him and he felt their full power. Since he was +a stripling he had persuaded himself that women were creatures of +another world so far as he was concerned--that he had small interest +in them. Now this dark-eyed Yolande was undermining that conclusion. + +“You shall be decorated for your bravery in telling a woman that her +dress was awful,” she said, and, detaching a flower from the bunch +which the child had given her, she slipped it into his buttonhole. +There came a mad desire to kiss the white hand that lay so near his +cheek, but he had not the courage to do so. + +Then the white turrets of the château came to view, and banter and +pleasant repartee were at an end. They seemed to spell tragedy as they +reared themselves above the stately pile, and the ivy-clad one on the +northern corner was more than ever brooding. Fair as this picture was, +to Wallace it seemed like a blot on the landscape, for it was sapping +the happiness of the girl beside him. Somewhere within those walls +that had withstood many a siege, and seen many a strange sight, was an +evil thing. It had to be expelled by some means or other, but as yet +success seemed far away. + + +That afternoon Fouchard carried out his project of examining Bertha’s +room. He spent about half an hour there, and when he came down his +face revealed the fact that the search had not been entirely vain. + +“I found a letter,” he confessed. “It does not throw a great deal of +light on the subject, but it is interesting and I made a copy of it. +The original was in German, but I knew enough of the language to +translate it. Here it is.” + +Wallace and Conrad bent over the sheet of paper. It was dated a +fortnight previous and written from a place called Steyn, near +Nuremberg. Fouchard’s writing was abominable, but between them they +managed to get the sense of it. + + + “Dear Bertha--_So there are foundations for your suspicions. It + seems incredible to me. I am applying for a passport, and should be + with you in a few days. It looks as if we may require Heinrich’s help, + but he is in Berlin at the moment. I am writing him telling him the + whole story, and asking him to follow as soon as possible._ + + “Niels.” + + +“This settles the question of Bertha’s nationality,” said Conrad. + +“There was never any doubt about that. The point is--who is Niels? +Presumably, he is the little man with the whiskers. Heinrich has +apparently not arrived yet. I wonder what their game is? What were +Bertha’s suspicions, and why is Niels incredulous?” + +“The circle grows,” said Wallace. “First it was merely the Monster. +Then came Niels, then Bertha, now Heinrich. We have Bertha under +observation, but the others are yet free agents.” + +“Unfortunately, Bertha is fully aware of the danger--of the fact that +she is being watched. She will never reveal her hand in these +circumstances. I think it will be necessary for you two gentlemen to +bid adieu to the château and for me to return to Paris.” + +“What?” ejaculated Wallace. + +“A sham departure. Once these conspirators believe the coast is clear +they will get to work again. An immediate departure would be too +obvious. I shall receive a telegram from Paris in a day or two +purporting to call me back. You two might notify your intention of +taking the road again. Domestic servants are notorious publicity +agents, and everyone in the house will get to know our intentions +immediately.” + +“But what then?” asked Conrad. “Personally, I hate the idea of leaving +mademoiselle just now.” + +“I don’t think she is in any great danger.” + +“But Fallières was murdered.” + +“Well, we will confide in mademoiselle and ask her to join us in +flight. It would be quite natural for her to want a change of scenery +after that sanguinary affair.” + +“But what do you propose to do exactly?” asked Wallace. + +“I shall take the train from Arveyes and get out at the next station. +I suggest that you should pick me up there in your car. We can then +motor back to the forest. I have discovered an excellent vantage point +at the top of Mont des Pins. Severin must aid us in this. If there are +any strange movements in the house, he will switch on a red light +which I shall fix in one of the windows. The road runs immediately +below the Mont des Pins. You can motor us to the château in two +minutes. If Niels is in the house we ought to be able to prevent his +escape.” + +“That sounds hopeful,” said Wallace. “You think Niels will come +immediately he gets to know of our departure?” + +“I do. Otherwise what is he doing in the neighbourhood?” + +Yolande was apprised of the scheme, and fell in with it at once. But +while this was being put into operation Fouchard carried out a project +which he had had in mind for some days. A new sideboard with a large +mirror above it was brought into the château and placed in the +dining-hall. Severin gaped when he saw it. + +“Monsieur, it is madness,” he said. + +Fouchard laughed and walked out with Wallace. + +“It is mere curiosity,” he said. “Because I can’t fit in that part of +the business with any theory. What does the breaking of mirrors +signify?” + +“What does it all signify?” + +Fouchard had not long to wait for a response to his test. They had not +gone to bed for more than an hour when there was a tremendous crash +from downstairs. It brought Fouchard and Wallace into the corridor at +once. + +“The mirror,” said Fouchard grimly. “This is the very devil.” + +He leapt down the stairs three at a time, with Wallace close behind. +The latter had forgotten his pistol, but Fouchard was prepared. He +held the black Browning in his hand, and made for the door of the +dining-hall. As he opened it something tremendously big and awful +broke through it. Fouchard was flung off his feet and hit his head +violently against the skirting. Wallace, all unprepared for this +astonishing attack, was hit a sickening blow in the jaw. He fell on +his knees over Fouchard’s sprawling body and groaned with pain. When +he regained his full senses the big form had disappeared. + +“_Sacré!_” ejaculated Fouchard. + +Wallace scrambled to his feet and dashed madly along the passage. But +at the end he halted, for dead silence reigned. He came back to +Fouchard feeling savage and humiliated. + +“I wasn’t expecting it,” he said. + +Fouchard pulled his coat tighter and rubbed his damaged head. His +habitual calm was gone, and he looked as savage as a tiger. + +“Like a damned cyclone,” he muttered. “How does he get here? Where +does he live?” + +He pushed open the door of the dining-hall, which had swung to in the +scuffle. The new mirror was smashed to fragments, and on the floor was +a beautiful chair with a leg torn from it. The severed leg lay on the +top of the sideboard. + +“This is no ordinary creature,” said Fouchard in an awed voice. “There +are not six men alive who could have done that. Broken off as if it +were a matchstick!” + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + COUNTERPLOT + +Despite the unexpected incident of the mirror Fouchard was still +keen on carrying out his project, for a further search of the château +failed to locate the hiding-place of the strange being in the monkish +robe. + +“If Bertha and her friends are working in concert with that creature, +there is every hope we may find them together,” he said. “Failing +this, I may be successful in bagging Niels.” + +“But if you consider it advisable to give Bertha a length of rope, why +not Niels?” asked Conrad. “I fear you are rather inconsistent, +Fouchard.” + +Fouchard laughed harshly. There was logic in Conrad’s remark, and the +detective was obviously a trifle nettled. He did not like to admit +that his personal vanity was the dominating counsellor. Bertha might +have a little run, but not the man who had worsted him and carried out +the successful masquerade. After all, he was very human. + +“Suppose nothing happens, and Severin sends no signal,” suggested +Wallace. “Are you proposing that we should camp on the Mont des Pins +indefinitely?” + +“Something will happen,” he snapped impatiently. “Those people will +waste no time. I have taken Severin into my confidence. There was no +alternative, and I believe he is absolutely trustworthy. He is going +to watch Bertha’s movements from the time we leave the château. It is +understood you leave to-morrow. I shall be called away the same +evening, and mademoiselle will decide to accompany me as far as Paris. +The train leaves Arveyes at 6.25 and should arrive at Moselle round +about seven o’clock. Mademoiselle and I will alight there, and shall +expect to see you.” + +“We’ll be there,” promised Wallace. “I suppose it is necessary to go +as far as Moselle?” + +“Absolutely. The train will be watched at Arveyes if I am any judge of +Bertha’s mentality.” + +The plan was carried out to the letter. There were quite pathetic +farewells on the following morning, just before the Bentley moved out +of the drive. Old Severin was given some money and told to distribute +it among the staff, not forgetting Bertha. Stowed away in the car were +blankets and provisions, in case no sign came from Severin on the +first night. + +“I wonder if anything will come of it?” mused Wallace. + +“Fouchard seems to think so. Let us pray that it will not rain +to-night. It would not be very pleasant camping out in a deluge. I +shall suggest dropping Yolande at a hotel.” + +“She wouldn’t hear of it. She is just as keen as we are to get to the +bottom of the mystery, and wants to be in at the kill, so to speak.” + +“How far is this place--Moselle?” + +“I make it, thirty-odd miles.” + +“We’ve got the whole day to waste.” + +“I propose we run into Rheims. I have need of some decent +tobacco--_tabac de luxe_, as they call it here.” + +“We must not miss that train whatever happens.” + +“We won’t miss it.” + +They thereupon made a speed burst for Rheims and arrived there in good +time for an early lunch. It was Conrad’s first sight of the city since +the days of the war, when it had been a pitiful wreck. He was +astonished to discover a new city. There were streets and streets of +fine stone buildings, and scarcely any sign of the ravages of war. The +scarred cathedral was in process of renovation, and the whole place +was completely changed. + +“No wonder the French want indemnities,” he said. “This must have cost +a nice pile of money.” + +“Probably explains why there is no unemployment in France.” + +“Yes, reconstruction--and the big army. It’s difficult here to realise +what we have experienced this last week. I am beginning to think it +was all a dream.” + +“I wish it were,” said Wallace. “But that big shape that nearly gave +me the count was not part of any dream. Fouchard is dying to meet +Niels face to face, but I would willingly kiss Niels if I could only +meet the phantom.” + +“I hope you won’t.” + +“Why?” + +“He has too great a love for naked razors. No, this is no time for +heroics. We are up against big things, and I don’t like the look of it +at all. Of course, you are young and aching for any kind of +excitement, but I’ve had my full share and more. I want to take you +back to England intact.” + +Wallace laughed as he finished his coffee. He felt that so far he had +had no run for his money. The other side had scored all the points. + +“Curious thing how Fate works,” he mused. “A fortnight ago I had no +idea there was such a place as the Château Grammont, nor such a +person as Yolande Fallières. I thought we were going drifting across +France in haphazard fashion until we got sick of it and returned to +the roast beef of old England. Now here we are as deeply embroiled in +this perplexing mystery as if we were first cousins of Fallières. +What impresses me most is the courage of Yolande.” + +Conrad shot him a swift glance, for there was a curious softness in +his voice as he mentioned Yolande. He was now staring through the +window with eyes that were apparently focused on nothing in +particular. Conrad thought he understood, but like a wise man he said +nothing. + +They left the city an hour later, and drove easily in the direction of +Arveyes and Moselle. They were obliged to pass through the forest +again, but were enabled to give the château a fairly wide berth. +Wallace discovered that his fan-belt wanted tightening, and Conrad got +out of the car while the adjustment was being made. Lying just off the +road was a kind of disused mine with a man cracking rock close by. He +tried his French on the workman, and was told that twenty years ago +tin was discovered there. A certain quantity was mined, but in less +than two years the valuable metal petered out and the business was +abandoned. They chatted for a few minutes and then Wallace sounded his +horn. + +“All serene!” he cried. “We’d better take the turning to the left, for +we are not far from the château.” + +Conrad agreed, and the journey was continued. They reached Moselle far +too early, and spent an hour in walking round the old town, which had +some wonderful architecture to display. The train, to their +astonishment, arrived punctually, and Fouchard and Yolande alighted +from it. + +“Here we are!” said Fouchard. “Bertha wasn’t risking anything. At the +booking-office there was rather a queer fellow behind me. I had the +sense to take tickets to Paris. A wicked waste of money, but it had to +be done.” + +“I almost wished I were going to Paris,” said Yolande. “But Paris will +keep. Are we going straight back now?” + +“Yes,” replied Fouchard. “I suggest taking the other route in order to +miss Arveyes.” + +“You direct me,” said Wallace. + +In an hour they were on the road close to the Mont des Pins. Wallace +drove the car as far into the shelter of the trees as was possible, +and looked to Fouchard for instructions. + +“We must watch in turn,” said the detective. “From the top of the hill +the château is clearly visible. Severin has placed a red-shaded +electric lamp on a table by the third window on the first floor. If +that lights up it means we are wanted at the château. It is now eight +o’clock. I propose to take first spell. If one of you would relieve me +at about one o’clock it would leave but three hours before daylight.” + +“No. Let us share up the time fairly,” said Wallace. + +But Fouchard was obdurate. He was not in the least tired, he averred, +and if necessary he was quite prepared to watch the whole night. + +“I’ll take a few sandwiches and a bottle of wine,” he added. “This +path leads direct to the summit.” + +He thereupon left them, and Wallace commenced to prepare a meal. +Fortunately the night was warm and there was no sign of wind. Under +the light of an inspection lamp they made quite a good meal. Later, +Yolande was tucked in the back seat with some rugs round her and urged +to sleep. + +“I could not sleep for anything in the world,” she said. “It is good +to be in the fresh air. The odour of the pines is wonderful.” + +For some time they talked about anything but the business at hand. +Despite Yolande’s assertion she fell into a doze, while the two men +smoked immoderately. It was nearly midnight when Fouchard came running +down the path. + +“The signal has come,” he said. “There is not a minute to spare.” + +Wallace uttered a low hiss of excitement and entered the car +immediately. Fouchard and Conrad followed, and Yolande was awakened +from her slumbers by the starting of the engine. + +“Are we-- Severin has signalled?” she asked. + +“Yes.” + +The car moved over the uneven ground on to the road. A moment later it +was speeding towards the château. The downhill stretch of road was +covered at a tremendous speed, and in a few minutes the car pulled up +outside the lodge. + +“Stop the engine,” said Fouchard. “It may be heard.” + +The gate was closed, but a pull on the bell brought the lodge-keeper +from his bed. He blinked to behold the party. + +“Open the gate, Pierre,” said Yolande. “Quick, and make no noise.” + +“_Oui_, mademoiselle.” + +“You had better stay with Pierre,” said Fouchard. “This time I +insist.” + +“Very well.” + +“Take care,” whispered Yolande, as they left her in Pierre’s keeping. +“There is danger, I fear.” + +“Danger for Niels and company,” growled Fouchard, as he moved forward +in the darkness. + +Wallace and Conrad followed, and the trio soon arrived outside the +château. A vague form came running towards them. It turned out to be +Severin. + +“What has happened?” asked Fouchard. “Speak quickly, and softly.” + +“I watched the woman carefully, monsieur. I think she signalled from +her bedroom soon after you had left. She came down later and stayed in +the servants’ hall. At ten she went to bed. I hid myself in a linen +cupboard close to her room, and at twelve o’clock she opened her door +and went down the stairs. I followed and saw her open the door and let +in two men.” + +“Two!” + +“Yes, monsieur. It was too dark to see who they were, but I heard one +say, ‘Heinrich has just arrived--most fortunate.’” + +“Go on.” + +“They all went along the passage, and a little later I heard the door +of the cellar squeak. It is the only door that does that. I crept +along, but did not see them.” + +“You mean they are in the cellar now?” + +“Yes.” + +“How long have they been there?” + +“Not two minutes. I ran straight back here, because I saw the lights +of the car.” + +“Good! There is no other way out of the vaults?” + +“None.” + +“Then I fancy we have them. Come!” + +They hurried along the passage and soon reached the entrance to the +cellar. Severin pushed open the door carefully to prevent its habitual +squeak. + +“Are we to come?” asked Conrad. + +“Just as you wish--but tread lightly.” + +They followed him down the stairs, Severin bringing up the rear. + +“Lock that door,” whispered Fouchard. + +“I have done so,” replied Severin. + +The place was in pitch darkness, but a whispered message to Severin +brought a flood of light. Simultaneously a voice yelled “_Achtung_,” +and a burly figure was seen blocking their path. Fouchard whipped out +his pistol. + +“Move an inch and I fire!” he cried. + +Then out went all the lights and there was a scampering of feet. +Wallace produced the pocket-torch which he had brought with him, and +flashed it. He saw the form of their late obstructor vanishing around +a corner and Fouchard a few yards behind him. Then there was a flash +and a loud report mingled with a groan of pain. The torch revealed the +fugitive on the ground with Fouchard leaning over him. + +“Watch that door!” yelled Fouchard. + +Wallace ran back, but on rounding the end arch and flashing his light, +perceived that the door was open. He ran up the stairs and stood +listening. For a few seconds there was no sound, and then he heard an +engine start up, and cursed under his breath. It was evident that +Niels had flown and that Bertha had got safely to her room. Severin +was not the only man who had a key to the cellar! + +He repaired to the cellar again and found Fouchard with his victim. + +“They got away,” he said. + +“Damn! One of them had a duplicate key. We’ve muddled this badly. One +of us ought to have stayed upstairs. The wire has been cut somewhere. +Take your torch and see if you can-- No, it would take too long. Help +me with this fellow.” + +They got the wounded man on to his feet and piloted him upstairs. +Fouchard led the way into the library and the prisoner was put into a +chair. He proved to be a comparatively young man of powerful build, +and he was in considerable pain, for Fouchard’s bullet had lodged in +his leg. The detective fastened two handkerchiefs together and made a +temporary bandage. + +“Now, friend Heinrich, you won’t hurt for a bit,” he said grimly. “I +think I will have a look in your pockets.” + +The result of his search was a wallet containing money and some +visiting cards, some business letters, and a pipe. He hunted for a +weapon, but found none. + +“Lucky for you, my friend,” he said. “A revolver would have got you +five years.” + +Severin came forward with a small slip of paper in his hand. He had +found it in the cellar, he said. Fouchard pursed his lips as he +perused it. It contained some figures and a name: + + + 27 + 31 + 36 + Steinbech + + +“A key to something,” he mused. Then turning to Heinrich. “Now, my +friend, perhaps you would like to explain what you are doing in this +place?” + +“What do you think?” asked Heinrich coolly. + +“What I think may have a considerable effect upon the sentence you +will get,” snapped Fouchard. “It is not nice for a young fellow like +you to be implicated in a savage murder.” + +“You go too fast. It may interest you to know that a few hours ago I +was across the frontier. I can produce a passport to prove that.” + +“Your passport won’t help you much. You are in a pretty tight fix, and +I advise you to tell the truth.” + +Heinrich smiled and shook his head. + +“You have caught me--like a thief. What explanation do you expect me +to make?” + +“What did you come to steal?” + +“What is there to steal in a wine-cellar?” + +“Don’t answer me back like that,” Fouchard thundered. “You are in +league with certain other people. You will find that a French prison +is not a very comfortable abode. Tell me what I want to know and I may +make things easier for you. What do these figures mean?” + +“That is simple,” replied Heinrich. “I dropped that slip of paper. It +is a system for winning money at roulette. I proposed to visit Monte +Carlo during my stay in France. A friend was good enough to furnish me +with this admirable system.” + +“You amazing liar!” roared Fouchard. “Do you think I am so ignorant of +roulette that I could swallow such a story? There is no system there. +What does ‘Steinbech’ mean?” + +“That is a code word for my bank to wire me money if I should need +more than my present small capital. Of course the system fails at +times--at least it calls for more----” + +“Silence! Enough of this fooling. I am not in the mood for it. You are +resolved to keep your mouth closed?” + +Heinrich’s expression changed to one of great seriousness. He winced +as he moved his injured leg. + +“I have nothing to say,” he added. + +“Very well. I will ring for the police to come and take charge of +you.” + +He left the room to go to the telephone. Wallace could not but admire +the fortitude of the man, faced as he was with his loss of liberty for +a considerable period. + +“Why don’t you give us a hint,” he said. “You don’t look like a +criminal, and there has been murder committed here.” + +“If I could help you I would, but I am pledged to secrecy. All I say +is ‘take care.’ There is greater danger here than you imagine.” + +Nothing would wring another word from him, and half an hour later the +local police called and took him away. + +“So much for my ruse,” sighed Fouchard. “There is a lot hidden in this +piece of paper if one only had the wit to understand it.” + +“The figures are undoubtedly a key to something,” said Conrad. +“Something they are dead keen on finding. How to apply them is the +problem. Then the name ‘Steinbech.’ What can that possibly imply?” + +Fouchard shrugged his shoulders. He had the sense to see that nothing +in this world would make Heinrich divulge what he knew. The figures +were puzzling because they might refer to a thousand different things. +Their very simplicity magnified the difficulties. + +“It is like shoving at nothing,” he averred. “Would you kindly go and +escort mademoiselle back, monsieur. There is nothing more to be done +to-night.” + +Wallace was delighted to carry out this task. He told Yolande exactly +what had happened, and she shook her head in bewildered fashion. The +picture of Heinrich and that of the Monster with his murderous razor +did not harmonize at all. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + THEORIES + +Fouchard was busy early the next morning pacing out the cellar, and +counting flagstones in every direction. He eventually came up looking +nettled and out of temper. + +“Any luck?” asked Wallace. + +“None. I’ve juggled with those figures until I am tired. I’ve applied +them in half a hundred ways, and they lead me to a dead end every +time.” + +“Perhaps they have nothing to do with this case.” + +“I’ll stake my life they have. Those people went to the cellar last +night with a definite object in view. These figures form the key to +what they wanted.” + +“It must be of considerable value to cause them to take so much +trouble. Anyway, how do you link this up with the murder of +Fallières?” + +“There is no link--yet. I don’t know what part the phantom plays. It +is possible that he, too, is after the same thing as the other party.” + +“But there is evidence that he has been active for years.” + +“Why not? If this unknown thing is of great value, a desperate +criminal would spend half his life trying to locate it. He apparently +has a way of getting into this house that is unknown to the other +gang--even to us. This man is a killer, while the others are merely +crooks. But Bertha and her friends know of this man.” + +“You think so?” + +“I am positive. Now it looks as if Niels and Bertha have scored over +the assassin and discovered a clue.” + +“You refer to the figures?” + +“Yes. If we could apply them correctly we should at least get down to +motives.” + +“I don’t agree,” said Conrad. “What conceivable motive could there be +in the murder of Fallières in his own room?” + +“Suppose the Monster was there all the time. Suppose he had climbed in +and hidden himself. When he believed Fallières was asleep he tries to +escape. Fallières wakes up and takes the pistol from under his +pillow. He shoots, and the intruder silences him with the razor.” + +“A good story, but it doesn’t satisfy me. There is the breaking of +mirrors to be accounted for, the befouling of the place, the cries +that are heard----” + +“A plan to scare the occupants in order that this strange man may have +greater freedom to search for what he is after.” + +But Conrad shook his head. It was all too far-fetched to his way of +thinking. + +“My dear sir,” said Fouchard, “you are welcome to the alternative +theory--that of a ghost, a discarnate soul engaged in haunting the +scenes of his earthly existence. The servants believe that.” + +“I am content to keep an open mind,” retorted Conrad. “I think if we +were honest we should admit that we have no clues of any real value. I +mean so far as they concern motives.” + +“I agree,” said Wallace. + +Fouchard walked out in a huff, but a few minutes later he was called +to the telephone, where he received news that caused him to be even +more annoyed. They overheard him carrying on in extremely rapid +French, telling the man at the other end that he was nothing but an +idiot, who deserved to be discharged immediately. He strode into the +room and glared at Wallace. + +“What is the matter?” + +“For a pack of unadulterated idiots I commend you to the provincial +police,” he said. “They have let that fellow escape.” + +“Not really!” + +“They put him into the lock-up all right, but apparently there has +been no prisoner there for about five years. The window was barred, +but the bricks and mortar were rotten. Well, he managed to get out +despite his game leg. Now they are going to start rushing all over the +country, as if their feeble intellects could be matched against those +crooks. Well, we shall see him again.” + +“You are optimistic.” + +“I know these birds. Nothing will put them off the scent. They will +bide their time and come creeping here again. I’d give five years of +my life to know what it is they are after.” + +He wandered off to make a new tour of discovery, and the worthy +Watkins came in to report that he had found the trouble with the +lights in the cellar. The wire had been cut clean through. + +“Don’t like that place,” he confided. “I always feel cold down the +spine when I go down there. This is a terrible place for lighting +troubles. Fuses go by the dozen, and blessed if I know why. It’s the +worst system I’ve ever struck.” + +Wallace had promised to accompany Yolande to Rheims in her car, and +looked forward to driving the enormous Hispano, which she had agreed +he should do. + +“Careful with the throttle,” said Conrad. + +“I’m always careful.” + +Conrad had also been invited, but somehow he felt that these two would +have a better time without him. After their departure he went to the +library to find a book to read. While he was there Bertha came in to +dust the place. She apologised, and made to leave, but he told her +there was no need, as he would be gone in a few minutes. She thereupon +commenced her duties. + +“Monsieur Fallières must have been a great reader,” he remarked. + +“He was,” she replied. + +“It is a terrible loss to mademoiselle.” + +He was curious to see how she would take this. Her equanimity was +wonderful. She shook her head sadly, and was not afraid to meet his +eyes. + +“I am more than sorry for her,” she said. “She is a most considerate +mistress, and loved monsieur deeply.” + +“The affair is most mysterious. It invests the place with a bad +atmosphere.” + +“It does indeed. I fear that two of the maids will be leaving this +week. Most of the servants are badly frightened.” + +“Are you not frightened?” + +“I am a little nervous--at nights,” she said. “Some of the maids make +it worse by talking about it too much. I heard that you and Monsieur +Wallace had also gone, but I am glad it was not true.” + +“Why are you glad?” he asked with a smile. + +“On mademoiselle’s account. She needs company just now. She is brave +to stay here at all after--after such a terrible affair.” + +“You are right,” he said. “She is courageous.” + +There was a long pause, during which he selected a book from the case. + +“Do you think Monsieur Fouchard has any hopes of discovering the +murderer?” she asked. + +“Fouchard is never without hope.” + +“Ah! He looks clever.” + +“He is much cleverer than he looks. I fancy that very soon we shall +hear satisfactory news--something that will explain everything.” + +“I hope so,” she said. “This would be a beautiful place if only all +the strange happenings would cease. I pray that the day will soon +come.” + +He left the library feeling that she was the most consummate natural +actress he had ever met, and the biggest hypocrite. Her soft tongue +literally rang with sincerity, and yet it was but a few hours since +she had escaped from the cellar. She prayed for the day when the +trouble would pass from the Château Grammont! Of all the +impudence---- + +Taking a seat on the terrace, he started to read the book. It was in +French, and a personal narrative of the war in Champagne. Its chief +interest lay in the fact that it covered the battle-front in the +neighbourhood of the château, some of which he was acquainted with. +For two hours he beguiled the time pleasantly enough. Then Fouchard +returned, looking hot and tired. + +“I’ve had a long walk,” he said. “Nothing like a walk to blow the +cobwebs from one’s brain. I wonder if one could get an _apéritif_? We +will try.” + +He rang the bell, and Severin appeared. Conrad seldom took any +refreshment before lunch, but Fouchard asked for a mixed vermouth with +a piece of citron and Severin grinned pleasantly and said he would +bring it _tout suite_. + +“Severin looks quite merry this morning,” mused Fouchard. “I thought +he was going to crack up.” + +“He is pretty tough.” + +“He needs to be. You know, I have a good mind to arrest Bertha and +charge her with the murder of Fallières.” + +Conrad closed his book and stared at Fouchard incredulously. + +“Arrest Bertha!” + +“A mere ruse. I could put her in a very awkward position. In France +the criminal code is very different from that of England. Bertha would +be judged guilty until she was able to prove her innocence. What would +she and her friends do when they realised that the gallows were in the +background? Why, reveal their hand.” + +“But you know they are innocent.” + +“I suspect they are. But if such an act provided a short cut, it would +be justified.” + +Severin entered with two bottles and a glass. Fouchard watched him as +he poured out the drink. + +“You are looking sprightly this morning, Monsieur Severin,” he said. +“Is it perchance your birthday?” + +“No, monsieur, but one must not always be gloomy. I am glad because I +think we are nearing a period of peace and quiet.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“The moon has passed the full, monsieur.” + +“What on earth are you talking about?” + +“All the disturbances that have happened here have taken place round +about the full moon. I have remarked upon it so many times.” + +“Well I’m blessed! There is no limit to superstition. Can you beat +that, Mr. Conrad?” + +“It certainly is an extraordinary assertion,” returned Conrad. “Akin +to the belief that ghosts cease to walk when the cock crows. But do +you seriously believe that, Severin?” + +“I cannot help it, monsieur. I have observed the fact so many times. +Was not Monsieur Fallières murdered on the very night of the full +moon?” + +“That is true, but it might have happened any night.” + +“I think not,” he replied stubbornly. “We shall hear little more from +the phantom for three weeks or so. You are sure you will not join +Monsieur Fouchard?” + +“Quite sure.” + +Severin departed, and Fouchard laughed as he raised his glass. + +“A quaint old man,” he said. + +“I suppose there is nothing in it?” + +“Old women’s talk. What on earth has the full moon to do with these +remarkable happenings?” + +“I have certainly heard similar opinions expressed. In fact, we had a +curious fellow in my own regiment who swore that the moon had a +strange effect upon him. Certainly he behaved in an extraordinary +fashion at those periods. His bewitching took the form of insobriety. +At all other times he was a most moderate drinker.” + +“Astrological nonsense! Science would not countenance such a +possibility.” + +“Science isn’t infallible.” + +“Nothing is. Wonderful stuff this! Fallières knew where to procure +the finest wines and spirits. No, monsieur, with all due respect to +your story about your military friend, I cannot swallow such a +hypothesis. Severin would have us believe that the Monster sleeps for +three solid weeks, and wakes up when the moon is approaching the full. +Then he roams at large with a razor in his pocket, cutting throats and +breaking mirrors. Moonshine, my dear sir!” + +“Perhaps. But in this world it is never wise to be too dogmatic. I +hope you won’t carry out that ruse you mentioned.” + +“Oh, Bertha? I am sorely tempted.” + +“It wouldn’t work.” + +“Why not?” + +“She would guess your object immediately, and you would kill the goose +that lays the golden egg. Your first scheme was the correct one. Give +her plenty of rope, and watch her.” + +“I know, but my trouble is that I am an exceedingly busy man. At any +moment I may be recalled to Paris. What have I to report? I have found +a paper that I cannot decipher. I have arrested a man and lost him +again. I have actually seen the queer creature who I am convinced +murdered Fallières. But everything is in pieces. I cannot coordinate +things at all. I have attained a certain amount of fame, deservedly or +undeservedly, and I will confess that my successes have all been due +to finding the motive first. Where is the motive here?” + +“It certainly is vague.” + +“Vague! It is absent. Now, according to Severin, I must wait until the +next full moon before the dominating character in this conspiracy +reveals himself.” + +“Isn’t patience one of the attributes of the master sleuth-hound?” + +“One requires the patience of Job for this affair. I’ve been over the +château again and again, and how this assassin gets into it is beyond +me.” + +“You are sure it is flesh and blood?” + +“I shall be more sure when I have lodged half a dozen bullets in his +giant carcass, as I shall do at the first opportunity,” he growled. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + THE CRIMSON TRAIL + +During the next few days it became evident that Fouchard had quite +abandoned the idea of arresting Bertha. A lot of his time was occupied +with the column of figures, from which he ultimately confessed he +could discover nothing. + +“A red herring,” he grunted. “Flung across the trail in order to waste +our time. We have a whole mountain of brains arrayed against us. +Niels, Heinrich, and Bertha--a redoubtable trio. I’m sick at losing +Heinrich.” + +“It’s strange that Bertha should stay on here, when she undoubtedly +knows we suspect her,” said Wallace. + +“A remarkable woman--not the criminal type by any means. I found her +reading a volume of Plotinus in the garden yesterday, in the original +Greek.” + +“Humbug, perhaps.” + +“That’s what I thought. I even tried to catch her, for I had read +Plotinus in a translated version. I failed, though. She knew the stuff +from alpha to omega.” + +“And you aren’t going to arrest her?” + +“No. It wouldn’t work. I will admit that at the moment I am somewhat +hopelessly bogged.” + +He left them a little later, and they saw him walking round and round +a radiant flower-bed, with his hands behind his back, evidently +inventing new theories to fit this remarkable case. + +“I’ve got an idea that when we leave the château we shall be as far +from any solution as we are now,” mused Conrad. + +“I’d hate to leave it under those circumstances,” replied Wallace. +“Think of Yolande in this grim place, with scarcely any +neighbours----” + +“You’re thinking rather a lot about her, aren’t you?” + +“How can one help doing so? You told me yourself that you remembered +her best as a gay, bird-like spirit, full of fun and laughter. Well, +that has gone. She still has the courage to smile, but the burden she +is carrying is obvious enough. I wish we could induce her to +leave--sell up this place and seek peace elsewhere.” + +“It would be waste of breath to try. There is a lot to be said for +aristocracy, despite your Socialistic tendencies. Yolande’s ancestors +went to the guillotine with a smile on their faces. Do you expect +their descendant to flee from danger?” + +“But this is different. There is little to be gained by staying on. No +doubt the French Government would take over the château as a historic +antique. No Government could ever let a place like this fall into +decay.” + +“Perhaps not, but there are other considerations. There are the +tenants. Would they fare as well under such a change of ownership? +Half of them never pay any rent. In addition, there is pride. That, I +think, is the deciding factor.” + +“I suppose you are right.” + +“Of course I am. You wouldn’t think so well of Yolande if she did what +you try to persuade yourself is the sensible thing. It is because she +faces this danger with a stout heart that you, my dear Ralph, are +falling hopelessly in love with her.” + +“Eh?” + +“Deny that if you can.” + +Wallace shrugged his shoulders and stared out at the bright blossoms. + +“You’re right, Connie,” he said in a low voice. “I’d hate to be +thought a sloppy sentimentalist, but the château, the air we breathe, +the brooding mystery that lurks here, all spell ‘Yolande’ to me. She +doesn’t know--yet. I wouldn’t have her know while this horrible shadow +hangs over her. But when I think of what happened to poor Fallières, +within a few yards of us, and reflect how easy it might be----” + +“Steady!” + +“Well, it has to be taken into consideration. Look, there goes +Bertha--to cut flowers for the house, apparently.” + +Conrad raised his eyes and saw the fine figure of the parlourmaid +enter the garden. She was garbed in the becoming dress of the domestic +staff of the household, and it suited her colouring perfectly. They +watched her moving among the flowers, cutting suitable blossoms, for +Yolande loved to have flowers in her bedroom and also in the +dining-hall. Bertha entered the house again by way of the terrace, +with her arms full of roses, delphiniums, and asters. She displayed +her gleaming, perfect teeth as Conrad gazed admiringly at the floral +treasures. + +“Monsieur is fond of flowers?” she asked in slightly broken English. + +“All but the blind must be,” replied Conrad. + +“Even the blind may smell.” + +“Is mademoiselle down yet?” + +“She will not be long. Since her maid left I have had the honour of +waiting upon her. It is sad that one so gracious and beautiful should +be made to suffer so deeply. It would be better if she left the +château.” + +“You think so?” + +“_Zut!_ It is not obvious? Monsieur has seen and heard enough to +understand that there is great danger here. The servants whisper among +themselves, and more will be leaving soon.” + +“And you--are you not afraid?” + +Conrad gazed at her intently. But Bertha never turned a hair. She +shrugged her perfect shoulders and raised the blossoms to her +straight, firm nose. + +“Sometimes,” she said. “But life is full of threats. One extra should +not matter much. All who live must die.” + +“So Shakespeare said,” put in Wallace. “But there are pleasanter ways +of dying than having one’s throat cut from ear to ear.” + +“Then monsieur should take the wiser course,” she retorted. + +“And run away? You are a trifle inconsistent, Bertha. Just now you +were advising mademoiselle to vacate the place, and immediately on top +of that you quote Shakespeare.” + +“Women are always inconsistent from the moment they are born. If they +were not so, men, with all their mighty logic, would fail to be +interested in them.” + +“That’s one for you, Ralph,” said Conrad, with a laugh. + +Bertha laughed too--a rich, ringing peal that echoed along the +terrace. Then she gave a half curtsey and went about her business. +Conrad’s eyes followed her until her red heels disappeared through the +door. + +“By Jove, she’s wonderful!” he said. + +“You mean her self-possession?” + +“Well--yes.” + +“Connie!” + +“What now?” + +“You’re interested in her.” + +“Aren’t we all?” + +“Don’t hedge. I noticed you when--when she looked at you with her +siren-eyes. She would have offered you a rose if I hadn’t been +present.” + +“Don’t talk such rubbish!” snapped Conrad. + +“I wish it was rubbish.” Wallace became serious. “That damned woman +has more brains than all of us put together. She’s angling for you, +Connie; one antagonist the less when she hooks you. Whenever she +passes you she turns her head ever so slightly--just enough for you to +see the corner of her eye. Great Scott! Julian Conrad, late Major of +the R.G.A., and a parlourmaid who mixes in very strange company----” + +Conrad stood up, and for the first time in his life Wallace saw real +anger in his eyes. + +“You’re an idiot, Ralph,” he snapped. “Not only an idiot, but an +insufferable snob. So much for your Socialism!” + +“Connie!” + +“You annoy me.” + +“I meant to,” said Wallace, with a grin. “The fact is, old man, that +crowd is going to beat us unless we stir ourselves. The woman in the +case is always the danger--especially when she is as attractive as +Bertha is. Perhaps I went too far. I’m sorry. Come--shake!” + +Conrad gripped the proffered hand a trifle shamefacedly, for he was +painfully aware that his display of anger only went to prove that +Wallace’s accusation was not entirely unfounded. It was a fact that +Bertha impressed him tremendously. Through thirty-five years of life +he had managed to steer a celibate course, only to hit up against this +remarkable woman when he had come to believe that the passions of +youth were dead for ever. There was something in her voice, in her +carriage, that affected him strangely. That she was playing a clever +game he felt convinced, but, all the same, his nerves never failed to +tingle whenever Bertha loomed in sight. + +“A dangerous place for all of us,” he said. “Was it a holiday trip we +planned, Ralph?” + +“No, an adventure--and we’re getting it. Ah, here comes Yolande.” + +She approached them with a smile on her face, and bade them remain +seated, whilst she took a chair next to Wallace. Attached to her dress +was one of the roses that Bertha had recently gathered. It had a +gleaming dew-drop upon it. Wallace thought it looked like a fallen +tear from the beautiful eyes. + +“Where is the great Fouchard?” she asked. + +Wallace inclined his head towards the garden, and Fouchard came to +view at that moment, still walking round and round the great bed of +delphiniums. + +“Seems completely baffled,” said Conrad. “I can sympathise with him, +for we are confronted with a most perplexing enigma.” + +“Bertha could solve it if she would,” said Yolande. + +“So could Heinrich or Niels, but there is no hope of getting any clue +from them. It is evident that they are operating against us,” said +Wallace. + +“Bertha’s conduct is the strangest. I purposely got her to act as a +temporary lady’s-maid to me. Her conduct is all that could be desired. +Sometimes I see her watching me--in the mirror. Her face is +sympathetic--almost sad. This morning she begged me to go away from +here. Either she is the most wonderful actress in the world, or she is +sincerely sympathetic. What--what is one to believe?” + +“The former,” said Wallace emphatically. “We know she let those two +men into the house. She is no more faithful to you than--than the +Monster is. How is it possible to believe she is anything other than a +conspirator in this mysterious plot?” + +“Might not there be some element that we have overlooked?” pleaded +Conrad. “Neither she nor her companions may be implicated in the +actual crime.” + +“Then why are they behaving so mysteriously? At any rate they are +house-breakers--robbers.” + +“My head aches with it all,” said Yolande. “Shall we go and look at +the orchids?” + +Conrad declined politely, but Wallace was quite willing. They left the +terrace and walked through the most exotic part of the wonderful +garden. With the gaunt château obscured from view, they were +immediately transplanted into a veritable Garden of Eden. Yolande +seemed to breathe more freely as they got farther from the scene of +terror. + +“How fortunate it was that I met you and Mr. Conrad that morning,” she +said. “You have helped me--so much.” + +“I wish I could feel that. Both Conrad and I feel that we are pretty +useless specimens. But Fouchard is beat also, so we must not take our +failure too deeply to heart. You are still determined to stay here?” + +“Yes. Whatever may happen.” + +“I admire you immensely,” he blurted out. + +“Because I do not run away--as I sometimes am tempted to do?” + +“Not only for that. You have borne so much sorrow with so brave a +heart. Of course I know nothing about women, but I never imagined that +any woman would--would act as you have,” he said lamely. + +“You--you mustn’t pay me undeserved compliments. At heart I am very +much afraid. It is the unknown that is so awful. I have the feeling +that these terrible events are not yet over. Last night--last night I +dreamed it--it was you.” + +She shuddered and, unconsciously perhaps, her hand went out and +gripped his. Wallace felt his blood scampering through his veins. +There came the desire to take her in his arms and tell her that, no +matter what happened, he would never forsake her--that in less than +two weeks she had captivated his heart and soul. It was on the tip of +his tongue when he heard running feet on the gravel path behind, and +turned to see the chauffeur, very out of breath and red in the face. + +“Pardon, mademoiselle,” he gasped. “Monsieur Fouchard asked me to find +you. He would like to speak to you immediately.” + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + THE SECOND VICTIM + +The urgent summons from Fouchard left no doubt in Wallace’s mind +that the mystery had yielded a new feature. He and Yolande hurried +back to the house and found Fouchard in earnest conversation with some +of the servants. Yolande’s face fell when she saw this, for the news +looked anything but good. + +“What is it, Fouchard?” she asked. + +“Severin is missing.” + +“Missing?” + +“It was brought to my notice that Severin’s room had not been slept in +last night, nor is he to be found about the château.” + +“But we saw him at ten o’clock last night,” said Wallace. + +“Some of the servants saw him at eleven, just before he locked up. +When he did not put in an appearance this morning they presumed he was +unwell. The chambermaid ultimately made the discovery.” + +The servants whom Fouchard had been questioning were dismissed, and +the quartette looked at each other--Yolande with fear and +apprehension, Wallace and Conrad in speechless surprise, and Fouchard +with ill-concealed rage. + +“You don’t think Severin is in this conspiracy?” asked Conrad. + +“No--no,” said Yolande. “I fear--I fear----” + +It was obvious what she feared, and Fouchard inclined his head grimly. + +“But this is appalling!” said Conrad. “It was Severin who was so sure +that nothing would happen until the moon----” + +“Superstitious rot!” snapped Fouchard. “I never paid the slightest +heed to it. There is only one thing to be done, and that is to search +the whole place. I am deeply sorry, mademoiselle--I scarcely expected +this.” + +“There is no sign of any struggle in Severin’s bedroom?” + +“None--nor in any other room. I have already been through most of the +occupied rooms.” + +“Let us make a start,” pleaded Wallace, whose impatience was manifest +in his twitching limbs. + +Fouchard nodded, and soon the three men were probing in every dark +corner. Wallace had persuaded Yolande to await them on the terrace, +for he anticipated another ghastly discovery. The vaults were tackled +last of all, and there their worst expectations were realised. The +body of Severin was found lying flat on the floor at the far end of +the vault, with his throat cut. He was quite dead, and his limbs were +stone cold. + +“Ghastly!” exclaimed Conrad. + +“No attempt to hide the corpse this time,” mused Fouchard. “It must +have happened last night.” + +“But what was Severin doing down here? He dreaded the place, and +certainly would not have come down here close to midnight.” + +“Don’t ask me any questions,” snapped Fouchard. “I have already asked +myself every conceivable question that has any bearing on these +horrible crimes. Now I’ll have the idiots from Arveyes down +here--wasting time.” + +Yolande was apprised of the discovery. She made a brave attempt to +control her emotions, but Severin had been a beloved and faithful +servant and the blow was heavy. Wallace’s heart ached as he gazed upon +that beautiful, troubled face. + +“This is hell, Connie,” he said. “Where is it going to end? If +Fallières and Severin, why not you and me--or Yolande? God, it is +maddening to feel so helpless.” + +Fouchard got into touch with Arveyes, and again the local police and +the doctor arrived. The servants now were completely terrified. Three +maids packed their bags as soon as the police had done with them, and +others talked of going. But Bertha, though pale of face, displayed no +desire to go. + +“What do you know of this?” snapped Fouchard, banishing discretion in +his ignominy. + +“I?” + +“Yes--you. You were not on the best of terms with Severin--I happen to +know that.” + +Bertha started, but her eyes did not waver. She glared back at +Fouchard until that worthy winced. + +“Do you dare accuse me?” she asked hoarsely. + +“I’ve the best of reasons for making that remark.” + +Here the magistrate from Arveyes interrupted. He was a pompous little +man, and objected to Fouchard stealing his thunder. + +“I am examining the witnesses, Monsieur Fouchard,” he said haughtily. +“I should like to know what these two gentlemen know of this affair. I +understand they have been staying in the château for a considerable +period--in fact, the exact period covering the two crimes.” + +“Monsieur, they are my guests and friends,” objected Yolande. + +Notwithstanding, Wallace and Conrad were compelled to answer a +multitude of questions, mostly to satisfy the vanity of the little +magistrate. Fouchard was so disgusted he strode out of the room. + +“This is the limit!” said Wallace later. “We seem to be getting +dragged into it. The idiot!” + +“I am so--so sorry,” said Yolande. “I fear I have been the means of +submitting you to great indignity.” + +“It isn’t your fault, Yolande,” replied Wallace with a smile. “I +suppose he only did what he thought was his duty. After all, we are +strangers to him. Poor old Severin!” + +The remains of Severin were removed later, and Fouchard put in an +appearance at dinner, for he missed as few meals as possible at the +château. + +“Baffled!” he said. “Who is going to be the next, I wonder?” + +“S-sh!” ejaculated Wallace angrily. + +“I am sorry. But these are grim facts, monsieur. I can find no motive +for either crime, and one is led to the conclusion that no one in this +place is immune. Mademoiselle, you must leave at once. I insist!” + +But Yolande shook her head. The second tragedy, following so close +upon the first, only served to harden her resolution. Wallace +flinched, but flashed a look of admiration across the table. + +“But it is madness--” said Fouchard. + +“I stay, monsieur. Let us not waste words.” + +“_Zut!_” he grunted. “It is not for me to give orders.” + +He got on with the meal, and for some time no conversation passed. +Fouchard’s disgruntlement vanished at about the same rate as the +courses, so that when coffee was served he was almost normal again. + +“Of course Bertha had no hand in Severin’s death,” he said suddenly. + +“But you practically accused her!” + +“Only to see how she would take it. She is in league with the Monster +in some way, but cold-blooded murder is not in her line. I am not so +certain about Niels. I don’t think he would fight shy of anything that +would gain him his ends.” + +“And what are his ends?” + +“Ah! There you have me.” + +“Something in this château?” + +“It would appear so.” + +“You think that the objects of Niels’s party and of the Monster are +identical?” + +“They must be. If we only knew what that object was half our work +would be done. I am wondering whether it would be of any use to +endeavour to come to terms with Bertha.” + +“Come to terms!” + +“Why not? I presume that all of us want justice done for these two +cold-blooded murders. If Bertha can help us to get our man she +deserves what wealth or treasure lies hidden here.” + +“If any,” put in Conrad. + +“We could at least promise her a free hand.” + +“Yolande would never consent to any parley with that party,” said +Wallace. “It would be like hoisting the white flag. Besides, it is +absolutely certain that Bertha will not give anything away. Whatever +the secret is, they would die rather than reveal it.” + +“Yes,” mused Fouchard. “But the woman might speak if I could put her +two confederates in jail with long sentences to serve. While she hopes +to achieve her end she is fearless. I’d have no difficulty in +convicting Heinrich and Niels if only I could land them, but they are +elusive fish.” + +“Yet they must be living somewhere in the neighbourhood.” + +“I have tried everything, and the people at Arveyes have been busy in +that direction. They seem to have dug themselves in very securely.” + +On the following day Fouchard made another small discovery. He was +engaged in perambulating his favourite corner of the garden when he +noticed a man loitering outside. He promptly secreted himself behind a +bush, and ultimately saw the loiterer climb over the low wall and slip +a letter between two loose bricks in one of the supporting columns of +the terrace. + +Two minutes later the letter was in his possession. He came into the +house looking more perplexed than ever, and helped himself to a drink +before he divulged what it was that was troubling him. + +“Another!” he said. + +“Another what?” enquired Conrad. + +“Can you read German?” + +“Fairly well.” + +“Then have a look at that.” + +Conrad took the roughly-opened envelope and extracted a single sheet +of paper. He translated the contents for Wallace’s edification: + + + “Dear Bertha--_Am joining Niels to-night. Come if you can to the + usual place--to-morrow at seven o’clock._ + + “Walther.” + + +“Who the devil--” gasped Conrad. “Has Bertha seen this message?” + +“No. But she is going to. I shall put it back where I found it, and +trust to our little Bertha to lead us to the lair.” + +“Whew!” said Wallace, mopping his brow. “This is an invasion. Did you +see the man who brought the note?” + +“Yes. He couldn’t have helped us. He was a peasant, and there is no +doubt the note was given him with instructions what to do, and a +reward. Had I apprehended him it would have placed our cunning friends +on the _qui vive_. I must get a fresh envelope and replace this +message without delay.” + +He went off, and Conrad sat shaking his head, while Wallace chewed the +end of a cigarette. The gathering forces of the other side made it +abundantly clear that they had not the slightest intention of +abandoning their quest. + +“Niels, Heinrich, Bertha, now Walther,” chanted Wallace. “What a +collection!” + +“And the Monster.” + +“Five sets of clever brains--against three. I wonder what Fouchard +will do if he successfully runs them to earth? Personally I don’t +believe it will help at all. They will all keep their mouths shut, and +we shall be exactly where we are, without even the chance of getting +wise to their motives.” + +“You heard what he said. He will jail the men and try to coerce +Bertha.” + +“What a hope! If Bertha could have spoken she would have done so +before. I am afraid Fouchard is at his wits’ end, and is likely to +bungle things.” + +Fouchard made all his plans that evening. Hopeful of a round-up, he +had brought the local police into his scheme. Bertha was to be trailed +from the moment she left the house, and the whole party arrested _en +bloc_. + +“For the time being you and I are to have a holiday,” said Conrad. + +He did not seem very disappointed, and Wallace could not help feeling +that he was relieved not to have to assist in arresting the woman in +the case. Yolande was duly informed of what was pending. + +“Do you think it will lead to any good?” she asked Wallace. + +“I have doubts about it. It is obvious that Fouchard is still smarting +from injured pride. He is dying to lay hands on Niels, who collared +him so cleverly.” + +“Bertha is the greatest mystery,” she replied reflectively. “I do not +know what to think about her. While I have every reason to believe +that she is conspiring to rob me--of something, I have got to like +her. She is gentle, sympathetic, and altogether the most efficient of +maids. I wonder what her relations are with those men?” + +“She may be in their power--compelled to do their bidding. We must +wait and see what to-morrow will bring.” + +A bitter disappointment was in store for Fouchard, for on the +following evening Bertha did not leave the château at all. Fouchard +crept back after hours of impatient waiting, having missed his dinner +in the bargain. + +“Baulked again,” he said savagely. + +“She hasn’t been there?” + +“No--the minx! That letter was genuine enough, but she must have seen +me take it. Confound the woman!” + +“And what now?” asked Conrad sweetly. + +“I don’t know--I wish I did. These are hard nuts to crack. They are +all eyes, and ears, and brains.” + +“They are indeed,” sighed Yolande. “One feels all the time that one is +being watched. I would give almost everything I possess to have +justice done, and to live in peace again.” + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + THE CONSPIRATORS + +In a small farmhouse, situated some twenty-five miles from the +château and lying well off the main road, two men sat and smoked in +the dusk of evening. One of them was Heinrich, and the other man +called Walther. Heinrich still wore a bandage round his leg where +Fouchard’s bullet had punctured it, and when he got up to light the +hanging lamp he limped slightly. Walther was a striking personality. +He was over six feet in height and extremely well proportioned. His +hair was as fair as a Swede’s, and was set off by wide-set, vivid blue +eyes. + +“It is a strange business,” he mused. “At first I was incredulous, but +of course I was compelled to change my mind. How did you manage to get +into this place?” + +“Datel passes as an Alsatian, but he is an old friend of Niels. He is +away at the moment. It’s time Niels was back.” + +“What time did Bertha say?” + +“Eight o’clock. It is now half-past eight, and Niels ought to do the +journey in less than half an hour.” + +“Thirty miles!” + +“The car is wonderful, and Niels drives it like mad. That young +Englishman will give Niels a certificate to that effect. He once tried +to catch him.” + +“What have these two Englishmen to do with the business?” + +“Nothing. They happened to be staying with Fallières when--when it +happened.” + +“Horrible!” + +“Yes. It ruined things, for it brought Fouchard down. But the +Englishmen are a danger all the same. The young one is keen on +mademoiselle, and is an awkward customer to deal with. His friend is +also to be reckoned with. But for them mademoiselle would have fled +and we should have had the place to ourselves.” + +“It is a dangerous game.” + +“Yes, and the sooner we gain our ends the better.” He glanced at the +clock again. “I hope there has been no mishap with Niels. Fouchard has +every place watched.” + +“It was a narrow escape last time. If Bertha had not seen Fouchard +taking the letter-- Good idea of Niels to leave her that pigeon.” + +Heinrich nodded, and then started as he heard the rising drone of an +engine. + +“Niels!” + +“Good!” + +A minute later Niels entered with Bertha. The latter nodded at +Heinrich and shook Walther’s hand warmly. + +“So you got here safely?” she asked. + +“Not without some trouble at the frontier. Why am I wanted at all?” + +“Niels thought it best.” + +The diminutive Niels, obviously the eldest of the party, pursed his +thin lips, and, after offering Bertha a chair, sat down himself. His +small, wiry body seemed bursting with vitality, and his beady eyes +flashed as if illumined by an inner light. + +“Things are in a mess,” he said. “We didn’t bargain on the forces that +oppose us. The death of Severin has made things more dangerous still.” + +“We--we ought to have prevented that,” said Bertha. “It is horrible.” + +“How could we prevent it?” he snapped. “On the one occasion when we +were so near success we were frustrated. But there must be no more +failures. We have to prepare the ground in advance.” + +“Yes,” agreed Heinrich. “I suppose there is no shadow of doubt about +this? You must remember that up to now none of us has seen anything.” + +“We shall,” retorted Niels. “Have no doubt about that. Steinbech’s +information leaves no room for doubt. And the messages--who could have +sent those but-- Did you hear a sound?” + +“A rat in the rafters,” said Heinrich. “The place is infested with +them. What is the next step, Niels?” + +“We have to get rid of the two Englishmen.” + +Bertha started at this. She looked keenly at Niels, and then shook her +head. + +“I will not be a party to bloodshed, Niels,” she said firmly. “If it +cannot be achieved without that, I am done with it.” + +“It never entered my mind,” growled Niels. “But I want them out of the +way. We can deal with Fouchard afterwards.” + +“But Mademoiselle Fallières!” ejaculated Bertha. “Without her guests +she----” + +“Precisely. Mademoiselle will quickly pack her bag and vacate the +château. That is what I am aiming at.” + +“You make a mistake, Niels,” said Bertha. “You do not know her so well +as I. She has the courage of a lion. Though she is full of terror, she +will not run away. For her sake I would rather those men stayed.” + +“It is impossible. I mean to have my way, Bertha, for I have thought +over every alternative, and none promises the slightest measure of +success. And we must all act in harmony. What do you say, Heinrich?” + +“I agree. I think Niels is right, Bertha. The two Englishmen are +obstacles to success. We cannot hope to deal with three determined men +at one time. What is your plan, Niels?” + +“It involves some risk--to myself. I shall endeavour to lure the +younger one after me by exposing myself--in the car. He has a fast +car, and will give chase. His friend may accompany him, in which case +we shall bag the two together.” + +“Presuming we accomplish that much--what then?” + +“I shall make it impossible for them to interfere for a few days at +least.” + +“You intend to keep them prisoners here?” asked Bertha. + +“No. That would be too risky. It would mean that one of us would be +out of action--looking after them. We cannot afford that. I had in +mind Rupert.” + +“Rupert!” + +“He is lying off Gervaise at this moment, and will stay there until he +hears from me.” + +“But they may get back,” said Walther. + +“Only after considerable delay. As an alternative there is +Frankenstein’s clinic. They would be as safe there as anywhere in the +world. You, Walther, could certify their insanity.” + +“No,” gasped Bertha. “That would be horrible. We have nothing against +those men--except that they are in the way. Frankenstein’s hospital +would drive them crazy. Besides, it is over the frontier, and not so +simple a matter to arrange as the Rupert idea.” + +“You seem to have a rather keen regard for those men, Bertha,” said +Niels, half closing one eye. “Since the younger one is half in love +with Mademoiselle Fallières, I presume it is the elder one that has +made an appeal to your impressionable heart.” + +“Niels!” + +“I warn you that love plays second fiddle in this business. Don’t let +your heart run away with your head.” + +Bertha’s face went scarlet, and she glared at the speaker in a way +that would have frozen him had he been the type of man to be +susceptible to such facial expressions of contempt. + +“You are a devil, Niels,” she said. “What I fear is that you overreach +yourself, and do something in a moment of passion that we shall live +to regret. I will have nothing to do with the Frankenstein idea. +Rupert can accomplish all that is necessary.” + +“I agree,” said Walther. + +“Very well. That will suit me. I will take the car to-morrow in the +direction of the château. The valley road can be seen from the +terrace. If that young speed-fiend sees me--as I hope he will--I shall +head for Morgins. You remember the ruins on the corner of the Rheims +road, Heinrich?” + +“Yes.” + +“I shall allow him to overtake me there--close to the big oak. You and +Walther will wait there. If the two come, the matter will be more +difficult, but we shall be three to two--and prepared.” + +His auditors nodded, and Niels went into a few more details. Bertha +was clearly the most agitated of the four, for she saw the breaking up +of a small romance. Yet the thing at stake was big and important +enough to warrant this sacrifice. She inclined her fine, intelligent +head in agreement. + +“There is nothing for me to do?” she asked. + +“Not yet. But watch Fouchard and advise me if anything untoward +happens. I will put the pigeon back in the cage in the forest +to-morrow. Send a message if necessary.” + +“And if you want to communicate with me? The old hiding-place is +useless now.” + +“I will leave a note in the pigeon-cage. Perhaps a code would be +safest.” He thought for a moment. “We will use the alphabet backwards; +you understand. It is crude, but good enough in the circumstances.” + +“And you will use no more force than is necessary, Niels?” + +“Why should I?” he replied impatiently. “Are there any further +suggestions?” + +“Everything seems clear and simple enough. I suppose those two men +will be armed?” said Walther. + +“It is possible.” + +“Hm!” + +“I warn you to take care,” said Bertha, waving her finger. “They are +both athletic, and the younger one in particular is a born fighter. If +he thinks he is fighting for the happiness of Mademoiselle Fallières +he may shoot to kill.” + +“Yet you insist that we should treat him with the gentlest care?” +retorted Niels. “He is to shoot to kill, while we must handle him as +if he were a sucking dove.” His brow came down. “Are not we fighting +for something, too--something as dear to us as anything----” + +“Let us not quarrel,” begged Heinrich. “Walther here is equal to two +men, if it comes to a scuffle. I was thinking, Niels; suppose that +young man should overtake you before you reach the ambush--what then?” + +“Then I should deserve all I got. Trust me. I know his car, and I know +mine. I am ten miles an hour faster, and the road I shall take is +fairly straight. A puncture might complicate matters, but I shall put +on brand-new tyres. Bertha having an objection to spanners as agents +of unconsciousness, we must get Walther to use one of his violent +anæsthetics.” + +“I seem to be needed here,” sighed Walther. + +“You will be needed later,” said Niels, with a grim look on his +curious face. + +“So I imagine. Well, Bertha, cheer up. We are not going to fail this +time. In a fortnight at most we ought to be back in Germany.” + +“Yes, but even then----” + +“Don’t dwell on that,” said Niels, in a quieter voice. “Let us meet +our troubles as they come. Whatever happens, keep silent. A single +word--the smallest hint of what we want--would ruin everything. Once +the truth were known the end is inevitable. You must realise that.” + +“Yes--I do. But I am sorry for that poor girl, who has lost so much. +She suspects me, but at times she acts as if she trusted me. If I +could only tell her----” + +“Madness!” hissed Niels. “Banish that idea from your mind for ever.” + +“I have. Don’t catechise me. You seem to forget it was I who first put +you on the track, Niels.” + +“So it was. But what I daily fear is that everything may be ruined by +a display of sentiment. We cannot afford to be sentimental. It is a +grim fight, and we have to go through with it. Well, I fancy we have +discussed everything. You must get back to the château.” + +Bertha nodded, but seemed to tremble. The good-looking Heinrich stood +up and limped towards her. He grasped her hands and looked at her +affectionately. + +“Be of brave heart, baroness,” he said. “You are playing a difficult +part, and we shall never forget it.” + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + A NIGHT OF TERROR + +Wallace, fresh from his morning tub, and brimming over with health, +found Yolande sitting on the terrace, turning over a pile of +newspapers which had just arrived. On the front page of the uppermost +one he saw a huge headline: “Incredible Happenings at the Château +Grammont.” + +“You are down early,” he said to Yolande. + +“Yes. I could not sleep. Look at all these! The château has at last +become famous.” + +“Don’t read them,” he begged. + +“I have no intention of doing so. Theories--theories--and all based +upon hearsay, for I have not given an interview to a single reporter.” + +“I think you are wise. Have you seen Conrad this morning?” + +“I think he finds a certain attraction in the garden. Bertha is +cutting some flowers.” + +“So you have noticed that?” + +“How can one help noticing--when a man is in love?” + +“I thought he was absolutely immune. Of course, he won’t admit +it--psychological interest he calls it. But it’s all wrong--all +wrong.” + +“A kind of treachery, you think?” + +“Well--it isn’t nice.” + +“I don’t blame him. Bertha is a living contradiction, and Conrad is +only human. There is so much that is grim and ghastly about this +château that we ought to welcome the invasion of Cupid, in whatever +guise he cares to come. I have never known Bertha do a single unkind +thing, and that leads me to think that she is a tool who cannot help +herself. She is not the ordinary type of maid. It is easy to see +that.” + +“She is extraordinary enough, I’ll admit.” + +“And beautiful.” + +“Well--yes.” + +“Why hesitate? Perhaps you are not interested in blondes. They say +that a fair man never sees much in a blonde.” + +“There’s a lot in that,” he said, gazing into her dark eyes. “But +that’s not the reason. I can’t forget that Bertha is mixed up in this +mystery. How can we possibly exonerate her without knowing what part +she is really playing. Innocently or not, she is responsible for some +of the suffering you have endured. You can’t expect me to love her, in +the circumstances.” + +“I don’t want you to love her,” she retorted with a smile. “But in +this baffling enigma we must not draw premature conclusions. Since +Bertha has acted as my maid I have had time to appreciate her sympathy +and goodness of heart. Again, last night, she begged me to leave the +château.” + +“And you refused?” + +“Of course.” + +“Yet there is real danger, Yolande; you know that?” + +“Who should know it better than I?” + +“Then--is it wise?” + +“Now you are going to tempt me! I can bear anything but that. It isn’t +mere foolish bravado that keeps me here. It is the thought of my +father, who endured so much--and yet stayed. I have taken over that +custodianship, for good or ill. You would think less of me if I fled +before the threatening shadows that lurk in these walls, and I should +despise myself to my last day.” + +She raised her head proudly, but Wallace saw the brooding spirit of +fear in her eyes, and he realised how much courage it needed to +withstand what must be a constant temptation. What he was dreading was +the rapidly approaching day when his holiday would be ended, and +Yolande must be left alone to fight the unseen danger. + +“Why not invite some friends down for the summer?” he suggested. “Fill +the château with them and----” + +“They would not come--again.” + +“I don’t understand.” + +“Last year we had a big house-party. There was a terrible scene one +night--I shall never forget it. Our guests left their rooms and +crowded into the reception rooms. Most of them had heard awful +noises--running of feet, growling. Two of them swore they had seen a +gigantic form on the landing.” + +“The Monster!” + +“It must have been. On the next day most of them went--raising all +kinds of excuses. Very soon not one was left. It was humiliating.” + +Conrad sauntered back, striving to look perfectly innocent. He gave +them “good-morning” and then turned over the pile of +newspapers--“Monster Haunts Famous Château”; “Baffling Mystery of the +Château Grammont”; “The Phantom Murders.” + +“Don’t wallow in them,” pleaded Wallace. + +“I’ve been thinking,” mused Conrad. “I suppose there _is_ a Monster +here? It is possible we have been tricked.” + +“Tricked?” + +“Certain persons want possession of the château for some purpose +unknown. It would not be difficult for one of them to play the part of +a huge demented creature, with the object of causing the place to +become abandoned.” + +“You mean Niels or Heinrich?” + +“Why not? A lot can be done with packed heels, a voluminous cloak, and +extras.” + +“But we have seen the thing!” + +“In a half-light. An artist in make-up can do extraordinary things.” + +“But the murders----” + +“That is just the point. It gives a motive for them which on any other +theory is missing. The murders might have been committed to prevent +identification. You will recall that on every occasion the face has +been concealed by the hood.” + +“No,” said Wallace. “It sounds too improbable. But, if it were true, +it would not alter facts very much.” + +“It cuts out the Monster as an entity, and leaves us with Niels and +company only.” + +“And Bertha,” rapped Wallace. + +“Yes--and Bertha,” agreed Conrad slowly. “But I’ll never believe she +countenanced murder. Does she look that sort of woman?” + +“Looks count for nothing. Are you forgetting that it was Bertha who +let Niels and Heinrich into the château when she thought the coast +was clear? Was that the act of an innocent person?” + +“It might be the act of one who is compelled to serve other persons. I +don’t know, but the more I see of Bertha the more convinced I am that +she had nothing whatever to do with those grim and ghastly tragedies.” + +At dinner that evening Conrad mentioned his theory to Fouchard, who +had been absent most of the day. Fouchard pressed his lips together +and seemed reluctant to express an opinion. The celebrated +sleuth-hound was fast approaching a state bordering on desperation, +for he had spent several hours in the vaults with the list of cryptic +figures without discovering anything worth mentioning. He ate +savagely--almost indecently. + +“It is a joke in Paris,” he admitted at last. + +“A joke!” + +“At headquarters, I mean. Those infernal journalists have concentrated +on the Monster and skipped all the rest. They know what makes a good +story--with the vulgar public. Have you read those accounts?” + +“No.” + +“_Zut!_ They have gone farther than a Monster. They have made him the +devil incarnate--something with horns and cleft feet, and breathing +brimstone. _Tiens!_ I must make an arrest.” + +“Eh?” + +“I have nothing to show for my work here--nothing. I have enough +evidence to convict the woman of aiding and abetting, and, by heaven, +I will!” + +“You won’t,” said Yolande quietly. + +“And why not?” + +“Because, monsieur, you have brains, and you know that the Monster is +no figure of the imagination, no masquerade of any of those others. He +is as real as you or I, and is the pivot on which all these strange +and awful happenings revolve.” + +“So he is,” he growled. “But they won’t leave me alone. I have a +rival--Cochet, who loves to express opinions in matters which do not +concern him. He has come to the same conclusion as Monsieur Conrad +here, with the result that I am looked upon as an idiot who is +hoodwinked by a masquerading servant.” + +Fouchard’s personal vanity was his weak point, and evidently his +professional rival was playing against it. It took two liqueurs to +reduce him to a state of equanimity, after which he was quite charming +again. + +“I think mademoiselle ought to take a little holiday,” he said. “Not a +prolonged one. Say a week at Aix or Paris.” + +“Sound idea,” said Wallace immediately. + +“You see----” + +Suddenly the lights went out, and the place was plunged into darkness. +Yolande uttered a little cry, and Wallace, who was close to her, gave +her his hand, which she took willingly. + +“The power seems to have gone off,” said Conrad. “The light outside +has failed, too.” + +“I will send for Watkins,” said Yolande. “Mr. Wallace, the bell is by +the fireplace. Will you ring it, please?” + +Wallace moved to where he thought the fireplace lay. Feeling his way +forward, he ultimately found the wall, and then the bell-push. In +response to his ring a maid appeared with a candle in her hand. + +“Marie, the light has failed. Go over to the garage and ask Watkins to +come here. In the meantime, send in some candles.” + +While they were waiting for the illumination a strange thing happened. +There was a noise from the direction of the casement window, and a +blast of cool air entered the room. Yolande’s hand closed on +Wallace’s--tightly. Then someone coughed--a deep, rasping cough like +that of a sheep. It was quite close to Wallace, and he concluded that +Conrad or Fouchard was moving about. + +“Have you been sleeping in a field, Connie?” he asked banteringly. + +“That was Fouchard,” said Conrad’s voice from the rear. + +“_Tiens!_ I never coughed. Why----” + +“Ralph!” + +The cry came from Yolande’s lips--an ejaculation of awful terror that +caused Wallace to jump in his chair. He put his arms round Yolande and +drew her closer to him. Her mouth came close to his ear. + +“Something here,” she whispered. “It--it touched me.” + +Wallace had no matches, but he possessed a very reliable petrol +pipe-lighter. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he found this and +gave the small wheel a twist. The spark ignited the wick, and +simultaneously cries came from Fouchard and Yolande, for standing +close to the fireplace was the hooded form of the Monster. An +involuntary movement of Yolande’s hand caused the miniature torch to +fall to the floor, and it went out. + +“The window!” cried Fouchard. “Watch that door, Wallace!” + +But Wallace with Yolande in his arms was slow to act. He heard a +scuffling of feet, and the noise caused by a falling chair. Then +Fouchard’s voice called for help. + +“Where are you?” + +“Here. I’ve got him. Lend a hand, quick!” + +“Coming.” + +He blundered in the direction of the cry. But at that moment the door +opened and a maid appeared carrying two candlesticks. She suddenly +uttered a piercing cry, and something big and vague struck the +candlesticks from her hand and sent her sprawling. Wallace helped her +to her feet and retrieved one of the candlesticks--with the candle +still burning. He held it above his head, and saw Fouchard on the +floor clinging desperately to a struggling form. + +“Conrad!” he gasped. “Fouchard, what are you doing?” + +Fouchard had seen the familiar face, and he went crimson with +humiliation. + +“Why didn’t you tell me it was you, monsieur?” he asked. + +“Tell you--with your fingers round my throat! Did you see him, Ralph?” + +“Yes, but he went through the door while you were strangling each +other. Hullo--that’s better!” + +The light had come on again, and four pairs of eyes gazed at each +other in temporary bewilderment. Fouchard recovered his wits first. He +produced a pistol from his hip pocket and moved towards the door. + +“He’s not far away,” he growled. “Must have come in through the +window--but why?” + +Yolande winced as a demoniacal laugh came from the direction of the +servants’ hall. Off went Fouchard at a run. + +“Take care,” warned Conrad. + +“I’m taking a hand in this,” said Wallace. + +“Connie, will you stay with mademoiselle?” + +But Wallace had gone flying along the corridor after Fouchard. At the +end he found two startled servants, clinging to each other. Then he +swore loudly as the lights went out again. Unfamiliar with that part +of the building, he scarcely knew where to turn. + +“Fouchard!” he yelled. + +No reply came, and he felt his way along the passage until he reached +a closed door. He turned the handle, but it was bolted from inside. A +low whispering was heard from the other side of the door. + +“Open!” he said. + +“_Qui va la?_” + +“Monsieur Wallace.” + +The door was opened, and he found himself standing on the threshold of +the enormous kitchen, which was illuminated by several candles. The +cook was grasping a stout rolling-pin, and his assistant was armed +with a flat-iron. + +“_Hélas_, monsieur! we have seen the devil.” + +“Where?” + +“Here. _O mon Dieu_--he was terrible!” + +Taking one of the candles, he went back along the passage. Again he +called Fouchard’s name, but that worthy seemed to have disappeared +completely. After more wandering about, he returned to the room where +he had left Yolande and Conrad. + +“I can’t find Fouchard,” he said. “Has he been back?” + +“No.” + +“Uncanny! The servants are all scared to death. Here is the light +again!” + +Two minutes later Watkins came in, looking dirty and very disturbed in +his mind. + +“Pardon, mademoiselle,” he said. “I was coming across when the fuse +went again. Can’t understand it at all. Whoever wired this château +must have had some strange ideas. I’ll have to go all over the wiring +to-morrow.” + +“I think you had better bring some electric torches into the house, +Watkins, in case this should happen again. Buy a new supply +to-morrow.” + +Watkins went away shaking his head. He was not so much scared as +worried, for he took a great pride in his work. + +“I must go and find Fouchard,” said Wallace. “He must have gone into +the cellar.” + +He was leaving the room when Fouchard came back. There was limewash on +his coat and dirt on his face, but what took their gaze was a big, +rusty razor which he carried in his left hand. + +“You--you saw him?” asked Yolande. + +“No--but I felt him. He slashed at me with this, but missed. I could +have got him if by the rottenest piece of luck my pistol had not +jammed. Well, I have achieved something.” + +“The razor?” + +“Not only that. I have marked the murderer for life. When we find him +he will have from eight to twelve teeth-marks on one of his wrists--I +don’t know which. That caused him to drop his lethal instrument.” + +“Didn’t you see where he went?” + +“No. He hit me with the force of a battering-ram and laid me out for +half a minute. I shouldn’t be surprised if one of my ribs has gone. +But I think that settles any doubt as to whether there is a Monster or +not, and whether he is human. He tasted human enough to me.” + +Fouchard opened the razor and displayed a jagged blade. Yolande +shuddered, and Wallace bade him put the horrible weapon away, for it +was reminiscent of things best forgotten. To Fouchard, however, it was +a priceless trophy. At last he had something to report to +headquarters. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + THE COUP + +The wonderful spell of fine weather showed signs of breaking up. +Seen from the terrace of the château, the landscape presented a +gloomy aspect, sunk in the shadow of an overcast sky. It seemed like +the natural aftermath to the night of terror that had passed. + +“Storm brewing,” said Conrad. + +“Looks like it. There is scarcely a breath of wind.” + +“Do you realise that our holiday is nearly at an end?” + +“Yes--worse luck.” + +“You don’t want to go back?” + +“I am thinking of Yolande--of what happened last night. To leave her +here in the circumstances would be--appalling.” + +“Fouchard will remain.” + +“Suppose he goes? He has hinted at the possibility of his being called +back to Paris. In any case he won’t stay here indefinitely--and the +Monster may.” + +“Fouchard may clear up the business before he leaves.” + +“I wish I could think he would.” + +When Yolande joined them she showed signs of the ordeal through which +she had passed, and she informed them that more servants were leaving, +while she had not yet been successful in engaging any others to take +the places of the last batch that had absconded. + +“The agents write to say that no servants will consent to come here. +The newspapers are too full of the tragedies that have taken place. I +am left with a cook, two maids, and Bertha, excluding Watkins and a +gardener who lives out. Soon I shall have to cook my own food,” she +added, with a wan smile. + +Wallace was staring down at the road which wound through the valley. A +car was coming down it, and he recalled the fact that it was the first +car he had ever seen on that road. + +“Where does it lead?” he asked Yolande. + +“It joins the main road beyond the château. It is seldom used by +anything other than the carts of the peasants and woodmen.” + +“That thing _is_ moving,” said Conrad, as the car approached them. + +Wallace made no reply, but his eyes were fixed intently on the car. It +seemed familiar--strangely familiar. When it was almost directly +beneath the château he uttered a cry of astonishment. + +“What----?” + +“That’s Niels!” he gasped. “I’ll swear to it. It’s the car I followed +that evening-- Here’s a chance. I’ll get him this time. Where is +Fouchard?” + +“Gone for a walk. Wait--I’ll come!” + +He apologised to Yolande and, grabbing his hat, ran after Wallace. +Before he reached the garage Wallace had the car out. Conrad dived +through the open door and sat down. + +“Hold on!” + +Two quick gear-changes and the Bentley was tearing down the drive with +Watkins staring after it, and scratching his head. Once through the +gate, Wallace changed to “top.” The responsive car sailed round the +bend and emerged in the main road. + +“There he goes!” cried Conrad, pointing to a cloud of dust ahead of +them. + +“Sit tight and hold your breath. I did a bit of tuning-up yesterday.” + +The accelerator pedal went lower and lower, and the crackle from the +exhaust rose higher. Hedges and fields streamed by--faster and faster. +To Conrad everything seemed blurred, and the white ribbon of road +seemed to be rushing at them, while the car appeared to remain +stationary except for a slight side movement. The cloud of dust in +front became more distinct. Soon the rear part of the other car could +be seen. + +“We’re gaining,” said Wallace, “and I’m not warmed up yet. I fancy +this will be an unlucky day for Niels. Look at the little +blighter--grinning at us!” + +“So long as he limits it to grinning I don’t mind.” + +“He won’t be able to do that if he makes the pace much hotter. Roads +bad here. Farther on it’s dead straight for about ten miles. We are +barely doing seventy.” + +“Is that all? Steady! By Jove, that was a near thing.” + +This as Wallace took the sharp bend at speed. It resulted in a +nerve-wracking skid which, but for the most skilful handling of the +car, would have ended disastrously. + +“We gained two hundred yards by that.” + +“Don’t make it a habit.” + +The straight portion of the road was now entered. Wallace sighed as he +saw the tall poplars vanish in the distance, and let the car have her +head. The needle moved around the dial swiftly under the wonderful +acceleration, and the crackle of the exhaust became a continuous roar. +To Wallace it was sheer joy, but Conrad regarded it differently. He +was not used to having himself flattened out against the cushion, nor +to having his lungs supercharged with oxygen. He found it difficult to +breathe, and all he could see was the tail of the fugitive car getting +nearer and nearer. + +“What are you going to do--pass him?” asked Conrad. + +“Ditch him if he won’t slow up.” + +But when both cars were within a hundred yards of each other Wallace +found the intervening space increasing. It was incredible, for the +speedometer was close upon the “ninety” mark. + +“Well I’m--” he gasped. + +“There’s a level crossing ahead!” cried Conrad suddenly. “And a man is +waving. The bar is coming down.” + +Niels did not hesitate for a second. Wallace saw the leading car rush +beneath the falling bar. It bounced alarmingly on the uneven ground, +but got its equilibrium again and went streaming down the open road. + +“Damn!” grunted Wallace, and slammed on all his brakes. Conrad was +nearly flung over the low windscreen as the Bentley decelerated with +frightful abruptness and came to a dead stop with its bonnet within +two yards of the stout bar. + +“_Sacré!_” yelled the man in charge. “_Pourquoi_----” + +Wallace did the most sensible thing. He apologised in his best French +and, seeing that no train was yet in sight, waved a hundred-franc note +under the nose of the irate man. It was the magic Sesame, and half a +minute later the Bentley was across the lines, and hurtling after the +almost invisible car. + +“It’s all or nothing now,” said Wallace. “Damn it, the Bentley ought +to beat that thing, whatever it is.” + +“I’m not so sure. But for heaven’s sake don’t brake like that again, +without giving warning. You nearly lost me.” + +“Sorry. She’s getting warmed up beautifully. We’re gaining again.” + +“Very little.” + +Away went the straight road like a knife-edge, over hill and dale into +the hazy distance. The air was charged with a sickening odour. + +“Castor oil,” said Wallace. + +A blinding flash of lightning struck down, and instantly the thunder +crashed. The threatened storm had broken. The last reverberations had +scarcely died away when dense rain lashed down. Conrad tried to put up +the hood, but their great speed prevented it. + +“Can’t stop,” shouted Wallace. “Keep your head down or you’ll be +flayed.” + +This was no exaggeration, and Conrad crouched low, while Wallace +pushed his face closer to the screen for protection. The other car was +lost for a minute or two in the deluge, but it loomed in sight +again--much nearer. + +“He’s beaten. I’m going to push him into the ditch. Look out for +yourself!” + +The ensuing tactics were nerve-wracking. The Bentley slowly overtook +the mystery car. Soon a few lengths separated them. Through the +lashing rain and pools of water the churning wheels buzzed. Wallace +was drawing out with the object of getting alongside when Conrad +uttered a wild yell, for the right-hand steering gave the passenger a +better view of the road. Wallace swerved in, and a big closed car, +coming in the opposite direction, missed his rear wheel by inches. It +permitted the fugitive car to draw away again. + +“Rotten luck! Keep your eyes skinned, Connie!” + +“This is hell!” protested Conrad, outraged. + +“It’s the chance of a lifetime, and we can’t afford to miss it. I’ll +get him again. He’s not so good on mud.” + +Up crept the Bentley, foot by foot. Wallace caught a glimpse of +Niels’s face. It was set and grim, and, like them, he was drenched to +the skin. He was about to overtake again when another car came towards +them. The driver glared at the apparent madman of the road. + +“The devil is with him,” groaned Wallace. “I’m dreading that my petrol +will give out. I know I hadn’t much when I started. Confound this +rain!” + +Grim-faced and shivering with cold, Conrad peered through the bottom +of the windscreen. He was just beginning to realise that the fires of +youth were burning out. It was Wallace who got all the thrills. Conrad +would have preferred a hand-to-hand combat. There were different +grades of courage. + +“Now,” said Wallace. “We ought to get him here.” + +Again he steered towards the centre of the road. The bonnet of the +Bentley passed the rear wheels of the other car. They were actually +side by side on a road that allowed scarcely any margin. Niels’ head +moved slightly towards Wallace. + +“Stop--or I’ll ditch you!” + +Niels seemed to slow down a little, but did not stop at once. Owing to +the opposite positions of the steering-wheels on the two cars, +Wallace’s head came within three feet of Niels. He yelled at him with +all his might: + +“If you don’t stop I’ll smash you to blazes!” + +Niels gave a quick glance at the three-foot ditch on his right and +began to slow down. At the corner, close to a tumbledown farm, Wallace +put the Bentley across the bows of the other car, and caused Niels to +complete his braking abruptly. + +“Quick, Connie!” + +Both of them leapt from the car and made for Niels. Wallace was quite +prepared for a fierce resistance, perhaps with a firearm thrown in, +but Niels merely thrust his unkempt little head forward and glared at +them. + +“Are you mad?” he snapped. + +“Not quite. You’re coming with us, and the less you have to say about +it the better.” + +“What do you want with me?” + +“You’ll find out later. Come out of that car!” + +“You are playing a dangerous game, monsieur.” + +“Come out!” + +Niels shook the water from his cap and stepped into the road. At that +moment two figures emerged from the shelter of a big tree on the +opposite side. One was Walther and the other Heinrich, and both of +them carried pistols. + +“Hands up!” + +Wallace swung round, and saw Walther pointing his pistol at his head, +whilst Heinrich covered Conrad. + +“Tricked!” said Wallace bitterly. + +Events moved swiftly after that. Niels produced a pistol and pushed +the barrel into Wallace’s back, whilst Walther produced a pad from his +pocket. In a twinkling he clapped this over Wallace’s nose. It did its +work with remarkable speed, and a few seconds later Conrad was +similarly treated. + +“Get them into the car--quick!” said Niels. + +This was done and the hood erected over the unconscious victims, after +which they were searched and disarmed. + +“What about that other car?” asked Heinrich. + +“You had better take it to Roche’s garage. Ask them to store it for +the time being.” + +“I can’t drive it.” + +“Then Walther can. Yes, that is better, for Walther is a complete +stranger. We will wait here for you, Walther. How soon will the +effects of that stuff work off?” + +“Half an hour. It will give us time to bind them.” + +“Good.” + +Walther stepped into the Bentley, examined the controls, and then +started off down the filthy road. + +“Everything according to plan,” said Niels, rubbing his hands. “We +will have them in Rupert’s hands before long.” + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + BONDAGE + +Wallace opened his eyes to stare in wonderment at two pairs of bound +legs in his proximity. It took him a full minute to realise that the +nearer pair was his own, and that his hands were similarly bound +behind his back. Those facing him belonged to Conrad, whose face he +could see as a whitish splodge in the gloom. There was another pair of +legs mixed up with the mass of human extremities, and, tracing these +upwards with his eyes, he saw they supported a big, muscular body, +above which was a face which he had seen before. + +His head throbbed so painfully that it was difficult to sort out the +incidents of the immediate past. Conrad recovered consciousness while +he was engaged in this attempt, and sat blinking at him like a +bewildered owl.… Things became clearer after a while. He recognised +the other occupant of the car as the man who had doped him--Walther +unquestionably. + +From the front of the vehicle came low voices. Niels’s was immediately +recognised, and the other, he guessed, belonged to Heinrich. Yes, it +was clear enough now. He had run his neck right into the noose that +the wily Niels had dangled before him. And here they were speeding +along a road in the drenching rain--bound whither? + +“Connie!” + +“Hullo! Where the devil are we?” + +“God knows.” + +Walther grinned down at them, and moved his enormous legs to give them +a little more room, which was sorely needed, for the back part of the +car was not constructed to carry three persons. + +“Where are you taking us?” demanded Wallace. + +“For an excursion. The air of the Château Grammont is apt to become +enervating.” + +Wallace bit his lip in his ignominy. He put the blame entirely upon +himself, and felt keenly sorry for Conrad, whom he had got into this +plight. The bonds which held his legs had been tightly fixed, and were +cramping him painfully. + +“Is there any necessity to keep us trussed up like chickens?” he +asked. + +“It depends upon yourselves.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“I will free your legs if you will give me your word of honour not to +start any trouble.” + +“How could we--with our hands bound behind our backs?” + +“Well, I will risk it, but if you try any tricks I shall be compelled +to send you to sleep for another spell.” + +He produced a knife and freed their legs, after making sure that the +other fastenings were tight. The two prisoners stretched their aching +limbs so far as it was possible. All the while the powerful engine was +propelling the vehicle at a great speed. Wallace, with his mechanical +interest aroused, inclined his head a little to one side, listening to +a high whirring sound. + +“Supercharger,” he said. “I’ll bet it’s doing thirty thousand revs.” + +“I don’t care if it’s doing a million,” growled Conrad. “This is a +nice ending.” + +Niels, hearing the conversation, looked over the partition and +scowled. + +“Are you mad, Walther?” he asked. + +“They won’t hurt,” replied Walther. “I’ll be responsible for them.” + +“Look here,” said Wallace. “What’s the game? This is a pretty risky +proceeding.” + +“Not half so risky as sojourning in the Château Grammont. You ought +to be grateful to us.” + +“You want to get us out of the way, eh?” + +“Wonderful powers of deduction!” said Walther. “Well, I fancy we are +well on the way to success in that respect.” + +It seemed true enough, for the car was now putting up a terrific pace, +and Wallace tried to take a bearing from the sun; but that orb was +totally obscured by rain-clouds. + +“You might as well tell us our destination,” he said. “It can make no +difference to you. I’ll admit that you have scored a point or two.” + +“We are on our way to--the sea,” said Walther. + +“The coast!” + +“Repeating your recent deductive reasoning, you will conclude that a +short sea trip is in store for you. You are correct, sir.” + +“Very funny!” said Wallace. “Ve-ry funny!” + +Conrad gave a wan smile. + +“I suppose you are Walther?” he asked. + +“You are well informed.” + +“Glad to meet you.” + +“The pleasure is mine. What do you think of this car?” + +“Not bad, but a bit noisy on gears,” said Wallace. + +“We will have that seen to,” replied Walther calmly. “You will admit +it wanted catching, eh?” + +“It’s a fake job.” + +“So it is--just a little hotted up for emergency. My cousin made it +himself--with a little outside help.” + +“Your cousin! So ‘monkey-face’ is your cousin?” + +Niels heard this. He poked his head over the partition and looked like +murder. + +“All right, Niels,” said Walther cheerily. “It’s astonishing what +truths come from the mouths of children. Look ahead or you’ll pile us +up in the ditch.” + +“Watch those two,” growled Niels. “They are not to be trusted.” + +“You see,” said Walther, “my more experienced relative has doubts +about your integrity.” + +The two chaffing prisoners relapsed into silence, and for a long time +nothing was heard but the peculiar noise of the supercharger and the +whirring of the tyres on the wet road. Hour after hour the pace was +maintained, Niels avoiding all big towns. Once Wallace caught a +glimpse of a distant structure--a towering mass of iron that he could +not help but recognise. + +“The Eiffel Tower!” he exclaimed. + +“We are skirting Paris,” informed Walther. “Think of the cafés, the +boulevards, the Folies-Bergère. How much wiser it would have been for +you to have spent your holiday there instead of at the Château +Grammont.” + +“We haven’t done with the Château Grammont yet,” said Wallace. “The +tables may be turned, my friend.” + +“Possibly. I always believed in the law of equilibrium. But time is +the chief factor. I’m afraid you will miss your tea. Niels does not +stop for anything when he is on the road.” + +The big tower faded away into the distance, and a little later the +rain ceased. But the roads were waterlogged, and the rushing car sent +up fountains of mud as it careered on its way to the coast. Wallace +became sunk in reflection. He thought of Yolande at the château. She +would be wondering what had become of them, and wonder would merge +into fear when the night came down. He thought of the creature who ran +amok between those ancient walls--the razor---- + +“What about my car?” he asked suddenly. “Do you intend to steal it?” + +“I think not. I am sure Niels much prefers his own.” + +“What have you done with it?” + +“You will know later. Why don’t you go to sleep?” + +“Sleep!” + +A little later Wallace overheard the German word for petrol. A hope +was born. If Niels had to stop to fill his tank there might be a +chance to enlist the help of the people at the garage. Their bonds +would be evidence of abduction, and the French had little love for +their late foes. But in this he was doomed to disappointment, for the +car pulled up on a deserted road and Heinrich filled the tank from a +big reservoir which was bolted to the running-board. + +On went the car again, in the gathering gloom. Darkness made little +difference to the speed, for brilliant headlights illuminated the road +for half a mile ahead. At last the brine-laden air gave warning that +the sea was not far away. They ran for some miles through flat +country, with dunes on either side, and ultimately came to a halt with +the sea breaking on the sand close by. + +“Here we are!” said Walther. “An hour before our time.” + +Niels and Heinrich got out of the car and flashed a torch towards the +sea. Immediately an answer came back, and the men waited in silence. +Soon Wallace heard the creaking of oars, and then the beaching of a +boat. + +“Bring them out, Walther!” + +The two prisoners breathed a sigh of relief to be able to stretch +their muscles. It was a wonderful night, with a sky rain-washed and +free of cloud. The stars shone like fairy lamps, and in the west a +crescent moon hung low. Looking across the bay, Wallace could see a +fine, white yacht, with steam up. And coming towards them was a man in +nautical garb--an officer, apparently. The boat which had brought him +was on the marge of the softly breaking sea. + +A conversation ensued, but it was in rapid German--too fast for either +Wallace or Conrad to translate. The upshot was they were escorted to +the waiting boat and driven aboard. A few minutes later they were +moving across the moonlit sea towards the yacht, with the officer +between them. + +“You are my guests,” he said, in good English. “I trust you will like +the yacht.” + +“I doubt it,” grunted Wallace. “I suppose you realise that this is a +kidnapping business?” + +“An unpleasant word. Here we are!” + +He cut their bonds in order to permit them to climb the ladder. But +this act was off-set by the display of a revolver. They reached the +deck and were driven into the saloon, which proved to be a most +comfortable affair--and roomy. + +“I will come again later,” said the officer, and went out, locking the +door after him. + +“Phew!” said Wallace. “And that’s that!” + +“The car is moving.” + +“Going back to the château. What a devil of a plight we are in! It’s +my fault, Connie. I was too impetuous. I ought to have suspected a +plot.” + +“By Jove, we’re moving! Quick work that!” + +“Where the devil are we bound for?” + +“I wish I knew. The skipper--I suppose he is the skipper--treated +Niels as if he were in his employ. Why, this boat is the plaything of +a millionaire. What does it all mean?” + +“It beats me.” + +“It can only mean that what is hidden at the château is of the +greatest value to certain persons.” + +“Yes--yes. But I’m starving.” + +“So am I. Have a cigarette.” + +They sat and smoked for some time, and then the officer appeared +again. + +“That’s right. Make yourselves at home. Dinner will be served in a few +minutes. Through the door yonder you will find a lavatory, and all you +need. The dining saloon is downstairs--under this.” + +“Thanks! Are you the captain?” + +“Yes.” + +“And may we know where you intend taking us?” + +“I will tell you later. Dinner is waiting, and we observe punctuality +here.” + +They were glad to take advantage of the well-fitted lavatory. But +their clothes were sodden and creased, and rendered them sorry +objects. They were remarking on this when a seaman knocked and +entered. He could speak no word of English, but he brought with him +two suits of duck and a bundle of collars. + +“Well, I’m damned!” ejaculated Wallace. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + WALLACE ESCAPES + +Dinner with the skipper--who formally introduced himself as Captain +Michels--was a welcome affair, for both Wallace and Conrad were +famished. There was a varied assortment of dishes, and wine in plenty. +The whole thing was so unexpected and so illogical in the +circumstances that Wallace still wondered whether he was dreaming. + +“Sorry your cabins weren’t ready,” said the captain. “We have been +giving the yacht a clean-up. But everything will be in order by the +time you turn in.” + +“Thanks!” said Wallace. “This is a queer sort of business, isn’t it?” + +“I know nothing. I have instructions to make you comfortable and to +land you at a certain place.” + +“Whose instructions?” + +“The owner’s.” + +“Who is the owner--Niels?” + +“That, sir, is quite a private matter.” + +“Then you don’t know why we are here--why we have been kidnapped?” + +“Not kidnapped?” + +“Be frank,” said Wallace. “You are holding us by force.” + +“I haven’t exercised any--so far.” + +“It is force all the same. We were dragged here by the scruffs of our +necks--so to speak, and there is little difference in our position to +being in jail with chains round our ankles.” + +“Except the dinner,” said Michels, with a smile. “I am sure they do +not serve such meals in jail.” + +“You mean to carry out your instructions?” asked Conrad. + +“To the letter. I am employed for that.” + +“Despite the illegality?” + +“It is not for me to question orders. Have a cigar?” + +Conrad frowned, but took one. Wallace shook his head and preferred a +cigarette. + +“Of course, I understand that you two gentlemen have been interesting +yourselves in certain matters. I know no details, but I am assured +that the atmosphere of the yacht is a healthier one than that of the +place whence you came.” + +“That is a matter of opinion,” said Wallace. “Well, to get to the +point, what do you intend to do with us?” + +“Land you safely in your native country. There is no hurry; we shall +round the coast at half speed. But on Sunday I think you will be able +to return to your homes.” + +“Sunday!” gasped Wallace. “Why, it is only Wednesday!” + +“That is so.” + +“But I’ve left a car there--by the side of the road--and it contains +our passports, _triptiques_----” + +“I was told to inform you that it can be shipped across the Channel if +you apply to Monsieur Roche, of the garage near Moulins. Your +excellent organisation--the A.A.--would doubtless manage the whole +thing for you.” + +Wallace sat and fumed. It looked as if Niels had made all the running. +If Michels intended landing them somewhere on the coast on Sunday +night, it would be Monday before they could get to London, and +valuable time would be lost whilst the business of fresh passports was +settled. A full week must elapse before he could return to the +château. During that period anything might happen. Moreover, his +holiday would be up. + +“These employers of yours are strange people, captain,” he said +boldly. + +“Determined people, Mr. Wallace.” + +“Don’t argue, Ralph,” pleaded Conrad. “We must make the best of it. +Things might be much worse.” + +“How could they be?” + +Later Wallace went below to look at the engines, and for half an hour +his professional interest was held. Their cabins were side by side and +splendidly appointed, and nothing was left undone that would add to +their comfort. A seaman brought in their clothes, dried and pressed. + +“Alice in Wonderland,” said Wallace. “Here are a gang of housebreakers +owning a yacht that must have cost a fortune. What do you make of it?” + +“I can’t make head or tail of it. I wonder if Bertha is a paid +employee, or really in the swindle?” + +“Hang Bertha! I wonder what it is they are after.” + +“Sunday!” mused Conrad. “That Engineering Congress takes place on +Wednesday. I shall just be able to get there, thank heavens! I +must--I’m chairman.” + +“You mean you--you will stay in England?” + +“Well--naturally. The Congress will cover four days, and business +calls. Had you forgotten we have a factory?” + +“Almost. I’m sorry, Connie. But, you see, I can’t help thinking +of--of----” + +“Yolande.” + +“Yes. What is the use of pretending? I love that girl; but, even if I +didn’t, I should feel I ought not to leave her--in that ghastly +château. I tell you, it’s a nightmare to me to think of what might +happen there at any moment--to-night even.” + +“There is Fouchard.” + +“Isn’t it obvious that if they have gone to all this trouble to get +you and me out of the way they will do the same for Fouchard? They +want to empty the château.” + +“Yes, I think that is true.” + +“It’s damnable--horrible.” + +“You are thinking of the--Monster?” + +“Of course. The killing is his work. He is different from the others. +I don’t believe there is any connection between the Monster and +Niels’s party. But they seem to have one thing in common--the +knowledge of something of tremendous value hidden in the château.” + +“But if Fouchard is missing Yolande will go.” + +“She might--ultimately. But suppose--suppose she left it too late? +That Thing, Man, Monster--whatever it is--murdered poor Fallières +savagely, and even Severin, who was an old man and offered no kind of +an obstacle. Do you think he will stop at that?” + +Conrad was silent, for, like Wallace, he realised the deadly danger +for a woman placed as Yolande was placed. But business was business, +and it was of the utmost importance that he should be back in London +within a week. + +“We seem to have shot our bolt,” he said. + +“Shot! Well, I’ve done nothing, except to get bowled over by that +seven-foot devil, and suffocated by Walther. I’ve never had a chance +to do anything to help. That’s what irritates--I’ve no battle-wounds +to show.” + +“Better sleep on it to-night. At least, nothing can be done now. We +are as harmless as caged canaries.” + +But Wallace did not feel like turning in. His brain was uncommonly +active, and his nerves at concert pitch. Leaving Conrad, he went on +deck and walked up and down under the stars. The moon was still +hanging in the western sky, and he could see the French coastline +clearly, with scattered lights on the downs. The yacht was making up +the Channel at leisurely speed. + +Three hundred miles beyond that strip of sea and those wind-swept +downs was the Château Grammont--and the girl who had made so deep an +impression upon him. He could feel the spell of her even +now--something dragging at his heart, whispering apprehensively. A +seaman was singing a shanty softly, but it was in German, and he did +not understand the words. Yet, like all such songs, he guessed there +was a woman in it--a woman left in the last port, just as he had left +one at the château. + +A mad idea came to him. It was driven home by the twinkling lights and +that haunting song. He looked down at the sea; it was placid as a +millpond. Pensively he walked back to Conrad’s cabin, and found that +worthy partly undressed. + +“Hullo! Not going to bed?” + +“Not yet. Connie, I want you to come outside. Slip on your coat.” + +“What’s the matter?” + +“I want to show you something.” + +Conrad put on his coat and followed Wallace on deck. They went to the +port side of the ship, and Wallace pointed to the lights on shore. + +“How far would you say those were?” he asked. + +“Difficult to say; two miles at least.” + +“Not more?” + +“Might be three. It’s a wonderfully clear night.” + +“And do you remember that when we joined the yacht the tide was just +on the flow? I recall the waves creeping----” + +Conrad suddenly realised the significance of this. He grasped Wallace +by the arm firmly. + +“Don’t be insane!” + +“I should be insane if I let a chance slip. To-morrow we may be in +mid-channel. It’s a risk, but I’m going to take it.” + +“What! Three miles?” + +“I’ve done as much before, in a less calm sea. Look, there’s a big +town farther along--probably Dieppe. With any luck I could reach the +château by to-morrow morning.” + +“I won’t permit it.” + +“Sorry, Connie, but I shall have to go without permission. Will you +lend me all the money you have left? I may want to hire, or even buy, +a car on the moment.” + +“No!” replied Conrad firmly. “Rather than see you fling your life away +I will warn the skipper.” + +“Oh, no, you won’t.” + +“Why not?” + +“Because you would do the same thing yourself if you were in my boots. +Seriously, old man, I can get across that bit of sea if I’m right +about the tide.” + +“And if you aren’t?” + +“We won’t discuss that. Come on, I’ve got to get into my own clothes. +Hunt up that money.” + +He bundled Conrad into his cabin, and went through the connecting door +to his own, in order to change his attire. Conrad fought with his +conscience, but gave way at the end, for he had a fine appreciation of +Wallace’s physical abilities. + +“Why not take a life-belt?” he whispered. + +“Couldn’t swim in the thing. I’ll put the notes in this old +tobacco-tin. And I’ll drop you a wire as soon as I can. Let’s stroll +along the deck--innocently.” + +Conrad was breathing hard, for he was not in love with the project, +but Wallace, standing on the threshold of freedom, was as keen as a +hound in the chase. They turned by the wheel, and then got amidships, +where it was absolutely deserted. + +“Now’s my chance,” whispered Wallace. “Good-bye, old man!” + +“Good luck!” + +He ran lightly to the side, and, mounting the rail, dived cleanly, +striking the ocean without a splash. Conrad, with his heart beating +furiously, watched his head reappear, and saw the powerful arms strike +out towards the French shore. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + WALLACE HAS A LITTLE LUCK + +Wallace turned his head as he swam, and saw the yacht slipping away. +He had no doubt that his escape was completely unobserved by any of +the crew, and now success rested upon his swimming powers. He soon +realised that he had been correct about the tide, but there was a +strong easterly set in the current, which threatened to hold him up. +He was a powerful swimmer, and he put every ounce of energy into his +strokes, for he calculated that, once free of the easterly flow, +progress would be easy. + +For half an hour he battled with it, and then was greatly relieved to +find himself drifting in on a good tide. The blaze of lights grew +appreciably nearer every few minutes, and his heart began to beat a +new note.… In less than an hour his feet touched bottom and he waded +through the surf on to the beach. + +It was Dieppe--he knew it quite well; and the town was yet noisy with +traffic, for the season had commenced, and Dieppe kept late hours. His +first thought was for dry clothing, but how to procure such at that +late hour was a problem. His last resource was a gendarme who was +stationed outside the Casino. + +“Pardon, m’sieur,” he said. “I have had an accident--in a boat. Can +you help me obtain some clothes?” + +He had to repeat this twice before the gendarme understood. Then the +latter stroked his enormous moustache, and debated the matter +mentally. The subtle display of a hundred-franc note was instrumental +in assisting him towards a quick decision. + +“If m’sieur will come with me, perhaps the matter may be arranged,” he +said. + +Wallace went with him up several side-streets, and ultimately stood +outside a small shop, over which the owners lived. The gendarme +knocked, and after a few minutes’ wait the door was opened by +“Madame.” A little rapid conversation mingled with much handwork did +the trick, and the gendarme pocketed the note and went back to his +post. Madame let him in, and switched on the light in the shop. It was +packed with clothing of every conceivable kind, from women’s “undies” +to men’s blue jumpers. He selected the best outfit he could find, and +changed into it behind a screen, while madame yawned and made mental +calculations as to how much the job was worth. He was appallingly +overcharged, but it was a relief to discard his late saturated +apparel. Wrapping the drenched garments in a sheet of brown paper, he +bade her “_Bon-soir_” and departed. + +A clock in the main street informed him that the hour was one A.M., +and he took it for granted there would be no train to either Arveyes +or Rheims that night. The only alternative was a car. He started on +the garages, but not one of them had a driver who could undertake a +long night journey at a moment’s notice, and none of them would +consider lending him a car. + +Bitterly disappointed, he wandered in the direction of the Casino. The +urge was strong upon him. To sleep while Yolande was in danger was +impossible. It occurred to him that he might telephone to her, but on +making enquiries he was told there would be a delay of three +hours--perhaps more. Cursing all the French systems of communication, +he stared through the portico at the queue of cars waiting for the +baccarat fiends. There were Hispanos, Rolls-Royces, long, gleaming +Renaults with their typically Continental bodies, a hotted-up Bugatti, +Fiats, Lancias, and a magnificent American Packard. + +Some had chauffeurs waiting, with sphinx-like patience, for their +lords and masters, others were in charge of no one. The Packard +attracted him, but he was afraid it would have some kind of +thief-proof gadget. The French were more careless. He decided upon the +biggest Renault--for several reasons. It lay away from the bright +lights, and was at the end of the queue, with its bonnet turned the +other way. Moreover, it possessed a fine spot-light which would aid +him in finding his way. + +Contemplated larceny was a new sensation, and he didn’t like it much. +But there was Yolande to consider!… He walked down the steps and went +straight to the car. The door was unlocked and the gear-lever free. +Gulping, he switched on the ignition and put his hand on the +self-starter button. Immediately the engine started, and he moved +forward. Then he gasped as a hand was held up and his late friend--the +gendarme--stopped him. But it was only a traffic signal, to permit an +approaching car to turn the corner. Fortunately the gendarme did not +recognise the tense face behind the windscreen. + +On the outskirts of the town he found a signpost marked “Rheims,” and +he recalled it was the Rheims road which Niels had joined coming from +the château. He depressed the pedal, and away slid the great car. It +was a “bus” compared with, the lively Bentley, but it had unlimited +power and was the acme of comfort. The great blazing lights rendered +driving remarkably easy, and soon he was out in the country. The +straight road lured him to speed--Yolande seemed to be at the other +end of it, calling for him. + +He bumped over the interminable cassis and level crossings, took bends +so fast that the long chassis objected and slewed her tail round +alarmingly at times. But the miles were flying! Once or twice he +slowed down to concentrate the spot-light on a signpost.… For two +hours he maintained an exceedingly high speed--too high for the type +of car--and then he became aware that things were not going well with +the engine. He heard a knock which slowly developed into a bad noise. + +“Big end!” he muttered. + +His diagnosis was soon beyond doubting. A horrid thud-thud offended +his ears. He tried giving it more oil, but to little effect. Soon it +became apparent that to drive the car much farther would end in +smashing up the whole engine. At fifteen miles an hour he ambled +noisily towards the next village. But on the outskirts he stopped, for +he had no doubt the village boasted a gendarmerie. To sleep in the car +did not appeal to him in the least, for he had little doubt that +telephone bells would soon be ringing all over the country anent a +stolen Renault. + +The long main street was illuminated with light from a big building on +the left, and to his surprise and joy he discovered a remarkably +inviting hotel, called the Hôtel de la Poste. He entered the place +and rang the bell. An exhausted waiter appeared. + +“Have you got a room? My car has broken down along the road.” + +The waiter mumbled something and went away. A few seconds later the +landlord turned up. + +“Sorry to be so late,” said Wallace, “but I have had a breakdown. Have +you a room for the night?” + +“Yes, m’sieur. You are fortunate in finding us open. But we had +another party of late arrivals. Would m’sieur care for anything to +eat?” + +“I won’t bother you----” + +“But it is no trouble. Some soup, a little fish, an omelette, or----” + +“I’ll have an omelette and half a bottle of _vin ordinaire_.” + +“Certainly, m’sieur. _Tout de suite!_ The dining-room is to the +right.” + +Wallace nodded and hung up his hat on the hall-stand. Then he became +alert, for the garment next his hat was a brown overcoat that seemed +strangely familiar, and another hat that he could have sworn-- He +recalled what the landlord had said about “another party.” Diving his +hand into the pocket of the brown coat, he found an automatic pistol. +He was about to replace it when he changed his mind and retained it. + +His meal was brought in quick time, and he ate it very reflectively. +If Niels and his friends had taken that road, it was not at all +unlikely that they would rest for the night after the exertion of +driving which they had already undergone. The waiter brought cheese +and biscuits. + +“Have you got a garage here?” asked Wallace. + +“_Oui, m’sieur._” + +“My car is stranded along the road--quite near. If I could get a +little petrol I think I could drive it into the garage. Is it too much +trouble?” + +The plea, accompanied by a twenty-franc note, lifted the tired waiter +from depression to elation. + +“It is no trouble. I will get the key.” + +Wallace saw him take the key from a hook inside the office. He +followed him to the garage. On the door being opened, the first thing +Wallace saw was Niels’s mud-bespattered speedster! He received a +_bidon_ of petrol from the waiter, and pretended to go to his car. +After loitering for ten minutes, he came back and reported dismally +that the car would not start. + +“Shall I help m’sieur push it in?” + +“It is too big. Never mind; it will not hurt until the morning. Sorry +to trouble you.” + +The door was locked again and the key hung upon its nail. A few +minutes later Wallace went to his room. The next move was obvious, and +it removed from him the fear of being hauled up for car-theft. That, +he thought, would not apply to Niels’s case, for Niels would not dare +to approach the police. + +For an hour he waited, killing some of the time by looking up the +route to the château from a book of maps which he had picked up in +the hall. Then he decided to make the attempt. Creeping downstairs, he +found the office and removed the key. The front door of the hotel had +double bolts, and a lock of the Yale type which could be opened from +within without a key. + +In a few minutes he was in the garage. He examined the car by means of +the “dash” light, and got the hang of the controls. The tank was +nearly empty, but there were scores of _bidons_ of spirit to hand. He +took a dozen of these and dumped them inside the car. Reckoning his +bill roughly, he left enough money to pay it under a spanner on a +bench. There was a slope to the main road, and it enabled him to run +down without using the engine. Once there, he started up, and, +switching on his headlights, went streaking up the road. + +Here was something live--something to please the heart of an engineer. +The supercharger was operated from the accelerator pedal, and came +into action at about half-throttle. Its whirring--almost +shrieking--note heralded astounding acceleration. He realised now why +he had never succeeded in overhauling it. It was a track-car, and one +capable of over a hundred miles an hour. + +Through the soft night he sped, alternately worrying about Yolande and +grinning to think how circumstances had conspired to turn the tables +on Niels. A hundred miles was knocked off before he stopped dead, and +realised that he had come to the end of his petrol. He got out, and +refilled the tank from the _bidons_. Incidentally he made another +small discovery. In the pockets of the car were two more pistols, and +a batch of papers which proved to be his passport and _triptiques_, +also Conrad’s. + +A beautiful dawn broke across the fields, and some of the mental +shadows fled. It surprised him to find himself feeling fresh and +unfatigued, but he ascribed it to the joy of the road in the early +morn, and the feel of a willing car beneath him. On the straightest +stretch of road he could not let the thing out, and hills did not seem +to exist. + +Half an hour later he got a shock. Early as it was, he saw a gendarme +on the fringe of the village, with his hand up. His heart quaked, and +he pulled up the car. The gendarme looked at a piece of paper which he +held in his hand, and scrutinised the number-plates and other points. + +“What’s wrong?” asked Wallace innocently. + +“_Ca va!_ I am looking for a Renault, m’sieur, that was stolen in +Dieppe last night.” + +“A Renault? That is curious. I saw a Renault--blue--parked on the side +of the road just outside Vesaires.” + +“A closed car?” + +“Yes.” + +“_Voilà!_ I will telephone Vesaires. _Merci, m’sieur!_” + +“Don’t mention it! Cheerio!” + +He was now but some fifty miles from Grammont, and the thought was +pleasing. Possibly all was well there, for at least Niels and his +friends were counted out for the time being. He wished there were some +means of getting into touch with Conrad, but it looked as if no news +could possibly reach him for days yet. + +Already the sun was drying up the mud, and the rain-washed fields and +trees were gay with colour. He played with the car like a child with a +new and wondrous toy, and before he had exhausted its tricks he saw in +the distance the white turrets of the Château Grammont, towering +above the trees in the forest that surrounded it. + +A run of twenty minutes through a leafy vista brought him to the main +gate. It was locked, but old Pierre came out and opened it. On second +thoughts Wallace left the car outside and walked up the drive. The +first person he saw was Fouchard, pacing to and fro among the roses, +hands behind his back and head forward. + +“Hullo, Fouchard!” + +Fouchard swung round and gazed at him in amazement. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + BLIND ALLEYS + +“_Tiens!_” exclaimed Fouchard. “This is a surprise! What has +happened--and where is Monsieur Conrad?” + +“That’s rather a long story,” said Wallace. “But Yolande--is she all +right? Have things been quiet here?” + +“Mademoiselle is far from all right, but the sight of you ought to +revive her. When you failed to return we took it for granted that you +had run your necks into the noose.” + +“So we did--like a couple of idiots.” + +Fouchard suddenly pulled him aside, so that they were both covered by +a big flowering shrub. + +“Bertha,” he whispered. “I don’t want her to see you yet. We may be +able to make capital out of your return. There’s a shady nook yonder, +and a seat. Come and tell me exactly what transpired.” + +Wallace accompanied him to the spot in question, and there told him +what had taken place since the preceding morning. Fouchard listened +intently, and revealed surprise when the yacht was mentioned. + +“We are dealing with a curious crowd,” he mused. “It was a good stroke +on your part to get Niels’s car. What have you done with it?” + +“I left it outside the drive.” + +“We must hide it.” + +“Why should I? The blighters collared mine----” + +“I don’t want Bertha to see it.” + +“Why not?” + +“Because Bertha knows Niels’s programme. At this moment she believes +that you and Conrad are safely aboard the yacht, bound for the English +coast.” + +“You don’t want her to see me?” + +“Yes--later, but not that car. If she sees that she will conclude that +Niels is not back, and then I shall lose an excellent chance of +finding out where that crowd is hiding.” + +“You think she will go there?” + +“No. But your presence here will come as a tremendous surprise, and +she will at once communicate with Niels to warn him that something has +gone wrong.” + +“By what means?” + +“That I hope to discover.” + +Wallace nodded, but he thought that Fouchard was concentrating too +much upon Niels and his confederates, when the real trouble was +centred in the Monster. Personally, he could not see that the possible +arrest of Niels would help matters much, for, whatever the secret was, +Niels was not the type of man to be coerced into revealing it. + +“I’ll take the car farther into the wood,” he said. “There are many +splendid hiding-places. While I am gone, will you break the news to +Yolande?” + +Fouchard nodded, and Wallace left the château and carried out his +project. When he returned, Yolande was downstairs, waiting for him on +the terrace. She gripped his hand somewhat emotionally, and held it, +her own trembling like a leaf. + +“It is a wonderful relief,” she murmured. “All night I have been +thinking--thinking horrible things. But why--why did you take all that +risk?” + +“I wanted my car.” + +“I see.” + +“But that wasn’t the chief reason, Yolande.” + +“What--what then?” + +“I wanted to be near you. It was only when I was far away that I +properly realised the hideous danger that threatens you. I don’t mean +from Niels’s party. They are desperate enough, but are not murderers. +In any case, Conrad had to get back to England, but I am not so +important a personage. If you will let me, I want to try and help +solve this perplexing mystery.” + +“There is no one more welcome here.” + +“That reminds me. Do you think Watkins could put me up over the +garage? Of course, Conrad’s departure alters things-- I mean, it +scarcely seems the thing to--to----” + +A little look of disappointment passed over her face. Then she laughed +amusedly. + +“Oh, you English, you are so prudish! I may have Fouchard in the +house, but not you.” + +“Of course, it’s all rot, and Grundyish----” + +“That’s a new word--I must remember it,” she said. Then, shaking her +beautiful head, “I am afraid there is no room over the garage. It +looks as if I must get a housekeeper at once to chaperone me.” + +“That’s enough,” he said. “I’ll defy convention. Where is the charming +Bertha?” + +“In the garden.” + +“Does she know--about me?” + +“Not yet. Fouchard told me not to say anything. Poor Bertha! The more +I see of her the more I am convinced that she is a paid tool of those +men. But I have tried to buy her over and have failed. Of course, she +knows that we suspect her of being an accomplice.” + +“Yet she stays.” + +“They compel her to. If Bertha would only speak I feel sure we should +learn much.” + +“Here she is.” + +Bertha approached the terrace by the garden steps. As usual, her arms +were full of freshly picked flowers, and her attention was so much +centred on their beauty that for a few seconds she did not see the two +figures before her. When at last she raised her eyes and saw Wallace, +there was a fleeting look of astonishment, but she quickly covered it +by a wonderful display of innocence. + +“They are a little damaged,” she said. “There was much wind +yesterday.” + +“Put them in the hall, Bertha.” + +“Yes, mademoiselle.” + +“That’s got her guessing,” mused Wallace. “I’ll bet she is wondering +what on earth has happened.” + +Fouchard crept in like a spectre, and looked after the vanishing +Bertha. + +“I want her watched--every moment from now,” he said. “Will you come, +Mr. Wallace?” + +“What do you want me to do?” + +“Go into the garden while I stay here. She is going to signal--or send +some kind of warning. If she passes you, follow her. I’m going to +guard the telephone.” + +He disappeared into the house. + +“Not a pleasant job,” said Wallace. “If it were Niels----” + +“I’ll come with you,” said Yolande. + +“Do.” + +He thought she seemed brighter this morning than she had been for many +days. Despite the sinister atmosphere of the château, he was glad to +be back again with the woman who caused him more mental anxiety and +heart palpitation than anything he had yet experienced. She stopped by +a bed of bright flowers and picked a sprig, fixing it in his +buttonhole with her white, shapely fingers. + +“Rosemary--for remembrance,” she said. + +“Is it necessary?” + +“Necessary?” + +“To wear a reminder.” + +“Is your memory so good?” she said teasingly. + +“If I live to be a hundred, I shall never forget this château, these +flowers, and--and you.” + +“Is that a vow?” + +“More than that--a sacred oath. Yolande, up to now I have been pretty +helpless. Everything is so jumbled up. If it would only come to a +straight fight--in the open----” + +“You have been more helpful than you can possibly imagine,” she +murmured. “Women are by nature timid, though they may succeed in +keeping a tight lip. At times I’m terribly afraid, not of what might +happen--to me, but of the Unknown. I’m superstitious; all women are, +however much they pretend not to be. I find myself wondering whether +there is such a thing as the supernatural----” + +“Rot!” + +“But isn’t it strange that, despite our precautions, that--that +assassin gets into the château? Niels and the others experience +difficulties, but not the Monster. He seems to come and go as if he +were not human.” + +“We shall discover his secret--in time.” + +“I am beginning to doubt it. Fouchard, with all his experience, seems +to make little headway.” + +“Fouchard is crazy about Niels. He cannot forget that Niels once made +him look foolish.” + +“It isn’t only that,” she replied, in defence of her countryman. +“Fouchard believes that Niels is the key to the whole thing. Whatever +Niels wants is also the Monster’s object. He thinks he can bring +enough pressure upon Niels to compel him to make a full confession.” + +“He will never succeed.” + +Yolande’s quick eyes saw Bertha leave the terrace. She whispered this +fact to Wallace, and they drew into the shelter of a magnificent yew. +Bertha came down the path, and, with a quick look round, cut across +the garden and climbed over the wall with the agility of a youth. + +“Gone towards the forest,” said Wallace. “Hullo--here is Fouchard!” + +“Did you see her?” asked Fouchard. + +“Yes. She scaled the wall--yonder.” + +“I thought as much. Come along!” + +Wallace murmured his excuses to Yolande and went off with the +detective. They quickly got on to Bertha’s trail, for they could see +her white cap and apron moving among the pines. + +“Hefty woman that!” said Wallace. + +“Cunning as they make ’em--in Germany.” + +“She has cut off to the left.” + +“We mustn’t lose her. What the devil is she up to?” + +Again they saw Bertha. She was bending over something that was hidden +in the bracken. The next moment there was a flutter of wings, and a +blue bird rose above the pines, hesitated, and then flew towards the +south. + +“A pigeon!” said Wallace. + +“Yes--the messenger.” + +“Cute dodge!” + +“Not cute enough. Quick! Don’t let her see us!” + +Bertha passed by them and headed for the château. When she had +disappeared, Fouchard beckoned Wallace forward. The found the +pigeon-cage in the bracken--but nothing else. Fouchard did not seem to +be half so disappointed as Wallace had expected. + +“It’s as good as the other way,” he mused. + +“What is?” + +“The pigeon is gone, but another one will take its place, in order +that Bertha may always have a messenger at hand. When the next bird is +put in the cage we may find a means to bring Niels to us in quick +time.” + +“I see. And then?” + +“Then I shall arrest him, and charge him with the murders of Monsieur +Fallières and Severin.” + +“What good will that do?” + +“I can get him convicted.” + +“Though innocent?” + +“_Zut!_ I will force the truth from Bertha’s lips. I have no more time +to waste. Niels is the key, and I will use him.” + +They spent that afternoon in going to the garage of Monsieur Roche, +where the Bentley was found. The enterprising garage-owner had taken +it upon himself to clean and polish the car, for which service Wallace +was pleased to reward him handsomely. + +“Do you know the man who brought the car in?” asked Fouchard. + +“No, m’sieur. He was a complete stranger to me. I understood that the +owner had met with a slight accident, and that he would give +instructions about collecting the car.” + +There seemed to be no reason for doubting his statement, and Wallace +drove the Bentley back to the château. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + BERTHA IS SCARED + +Though Fouchard kept the empty pigeon-cage under close observation, +it remained empty for several days. He would sit among the trees for +hours on end waiting for the arrival of the pigeon which was going to +convey his faked message to Niels. But every evening he came to the +château with disappointment writ large on his countenance. + +“Seem to have deserted us,” he mused. “What have you done with their +car?” + +“It is still in the garage,” said Wallace. “Perhaps you were wrong in +thinking they would replace the pigeon.” + +“It is the obvious conclusion. They must keep in touch with Bertha, +and the telephone is too dangerous.” + +“Mightn’t we be able to save time by having another shot at the +cryptogram?” asked Wallace. + +“Waste of mental energy,” grunted Fouchard. “I have been over every +inch of the cellar, and can see nothing to which the figures might +apply. Only the man who wrote them knows what they mean.” + +“Yet they must have reference to the cellar,” said Yolande, “for Niels +and Bertha were there when you disturbed them.” + +“True. But I’ve done all that mortal man can do. What is anyone to +gather from that?” + +He produced the slip of paper and laid it on the table. Wallace picked +up and ran his eye over the inscription: + + + 27 + 31 + 36 + Steinbech. + + +“If the figures refer to measurements, where on earth does Steinbech +come in?” he mused. + +“But are we justified in assuming that it has any connection +whatsoever with the mystery?” asked Yolande. “Heinrich said it was a +system for playing roulette. There are thirty-six numbers in roulette, +and it might be that.” + +“Bunkum!” snorted Fouchard. “They were going straight to the place to +which these figures have reference--the place where we shall +eventually find the solution to this mystery. I made a blunder +there--I should have held my hand for a bit, and we should have seen +exactly what this priceless hidden thing is that has caused a party of +sophisticated people to turn house-breakers. But it is no use crying +over spilt milk. I yet have hopes of making Niels or Bertha talk up.” + +He put the slip of paper away, for Wallace had no suggestions to put +forward. For the past few days there had been no disturbance of any +kind at the château, and Wallace and Yolande had spent some +delightful hours in the garden, and in the beautiful Forêt de +Grammont. + +“Have you written to Mr. Conrad?” she asked. + +“Yes. But he cannot possibly get my letter until to-morrow at the +earliest. He will be relieved to know I am in the land of the living.” + +“He did not raise any objections to your--coming back here?” + +“Not many. Connie understands.” + +“Understands your interest in this mystery?” + +He nodded, though he felt like telling her that his interest was +divided between it and her. + +“He was always good-natured, generous,” she said. “I remember when he +first came here, looking pallid and thin from the dreadful ordeal of +war. I got to like him so much, and he used to romp with me and laugh +at my quaint English. But he never mentioned you.” + +“How could he? He didn’t even know I existed. It was after that that +he met my father.” + +“I had forgotten. How different life was then. There were my mother +and father and----” + +She gulped and turned her head away, but her spirit was too fine to be +crushed by painful memories, and soon she was smiling again. + +“At least life is always offering something new, and I am fortunate in +having a garden of my own. Do you believe that flowers have +sensibility? Sometimes I think they have. When I am sad they seem just +a little sad too, but when I am gay every bloom seems to nod on its +stalk and turn its head around. When I laugh I imagine the petals +shake in the sunshine. Childish, isn’t it?” + +“Yes--adorably childish.” + +That was the side of her nature which he loved most--even more than +the stubborn pride which enabled her to face the danger that existed. +She had managed to retain that most lovable thing in life--childhood’s +simplicity. + +When next they saw Fouchard his impatience was getting beyond control. +Despite his vigil in the forest, nothing had happened to further his +object. His faked message, couched in his best German, still remained +in his pocket-book, for there was no feathered messenger to carry it +to its destination. + +“By some means or other they must have anticipated my game,” he +grumbled. “They have as many eyes as a fly.” + +“You think they are back?” asked Yolande. + +“Yes. The lure is here. But there must be a change of plan. Of course, +the people at Arveyes are keeping their eyes skinned, but if they +discover anything at all I shall be surprised.” + +“Things are very quiet here,” said Wallace. + +Fouchard pointed to the moon, which had just risen. It was nearly at +the full. + +“According to poor old Severin, we may expect matters to liven up +shortly,” he said. “He was so certain that the moon had something to +do with it.” + +“I am almost ready to believe anything,” said Yolande. “But, of +course, there is nothing in that idea.” + +“Nothing. Old women’s superstition.” + +“And how are things in Paris?” asked Wallace. + +“Not too good for me. They are inclined to take the view that these +tragedies are of the common type, with robbery as motive. The Monster +they write down as a thing of the imagination. That reminds me that I +must return to Paris next week. I have to appear at an important +trial.” + +“Next week! But you will come back here?” + +“I hope so. I don’t know how long this trial will take, but I shall +have no peace of mind until I get at the bottom of this business. I’ve +got three or four days in which to land Niels, and I’m going to do it. +Nothing would please me more than to have him as a travelling +companion.” + +Wallace begged Yolande to play the piano, which she had not done for +some time. Soon the romantic strains of a Chopin Nocturne were being +borne on the warm night air, while Fouchard, left alone with the +Benedictine bottle, enjoyed himself a lot. Wallace was coaxed to sing, +and gave an extremely good rendering of Schubert’s “Who is Sylvia?” + +“Splendid,” said Yolande, looking up at him with her face aflame with +appreciation. “Try another one.” + +“Do you know ‘The Erl King’?” asked Fouchard. + +“Why not the ‘Dead March’?” retorted Wallace. + +Yolande chose the _encore_ piece for him. It was Schubert’s +masterpiece, “Impatience,” which called for more passion than Wallace +imagined he possessed. But to-night, with Yolande’s hair almost +brushing his hand, and the magnetism of her presence strong upon him, +he felt in the mood for some outlet to his pent-up emotions. But she +was lost in the music, and did not appear to realise that he was +singing this _to_ her. + +Ere the last note died away there was a rude interruption. A ringing, +demoniacal laugh came from without, and a great clod of turf was flung +through the half-open window. It fell on the top of the grand piano +and slithered across it, shedding brown earth over Yolande’s dress. + +“The devil!” ejaculated Fouchard, springing to his feet. + +“Don’t go!” called Yolande. + +But Fouchard had already passed through the window, with a pistol +gripped in his hand. Wallace ached to follow him, but he feared to +leave Yolande alone. + +“That has happened before,” she said, trembling. + +“It’s uncanny--that laugh!” + +“The same awful voice. It spoiled that wonderful song--and I was +beginning to believe that things were getting better. Did you see +anything?” + +“No.” + +She sat nestling close to him on the settee, and he could feel her +heart beating rapidly. It was clear that her nerves were getting +unstrung, and that there was a limit to her endurance. When Fouchard +returned he shook his head despondently. + +“Not a sign of anyone,” he said. “I found a bare place on the lawn +outside where the turf had been torn up.” + +“Ring the bell, m’sieur,” begged Yolande. “The room is in a terrible +mess.” + +A maid came in response to Fouchard’s ring. Yolande pointed to the +dirt and grass, but the girl did not seem to understand. She appeared +to be extremely agitated, and stood nodding her head like a mandarin +doll. + +“Pardon, mademoiselle,” she stammered at last. “There is a strange +noise from Bertha’s room. We have all heard it, but are afraid to go +in.” + +“What kind of a noise?” asked Fouchard. + +“_Mon Dieu_--terrible! moaning and sobbing.” + +Wallace looked at Fouchard, and Fouchard pressed his thin lips +together. Yolande gripped the end of the settee. + +“I’ll go up,” said Fouchard. “You had better stay with your mistress.” + +“I’ll stay too,” said Wallace. + +“No--you go with Fouchard,” insisted Yolande. “You--you may be +needed.” + +The two men hurried into the servants’ quarters, and a scared maid led +them to Bertha’s room. As soon as they approached it the noise was +audible. It was as if someone were trying to call for help, but was +prevented from saying anything articulate. Fouchard pushed open the +door. + +The room was lighted, and Bertha was sitting in a chair by the +dressing-table, her two arms bound to the back of it by a sheet which +had been taken from the bed. In her mouth was a sponge--brutally +inserted, it appeared, for her lips were bleeding. It was not the +normal Bertha, but a terrified woman, with staring eyes and blanched +cheeks. Fouchard removed the sponge, while Wallace undid the tightly +knotted sheet. + +“Water!” gasped Bertha. + +Wallace filled a glass from the carafe and held it to her lips. She +drank deeply, and took the handkerchief which he offered to remove the +blood from her lacerated mouth. + +“Now tell us what happened,” asked Fouchard. + +“My--my head is swimming.” + +“Give her time,” pleaded Wallace. “I suggest we go downstairs. +Mademoiselle will be anxious to hear what has transpired here.” + +Fouchard was agreeable, and the badly shaken Bertha accompanied them +to the drawing-room. The maid, having cleared up the mess, was +dismissed. + +“Now,” said Fouchard, “we would like to hear exactly what happened in +your room.” + +Bertha had now recovered some of her habitual composure. She fidgeted +a little, and was obviously disinclined to go into details. Fouchard +had expected this. + +“It is better to tell the truth,” he said bitingly. “We want no +imaginary version.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + A PROPOSAL + +Bertha bridled at Fouchard’s remark, and, to the detective’s +chagrin, she shrugged her shoulders and was silent. + +“Hm!” he grunted. “As I thought. You----” + +“Wait!” cried Yolande. “I would like to speak to Bertha myself.” + +“As you wish--as you wish.” + +“Bertha,” said Yolande, in a well-controlled voice. “It is useless +beating about the bush. I know you are not the ordinary type of maid. +You came into my service with an ulterior motive--isn’t that so?” + +Bertha hesitated, and then inclined her head. + +“Good! Monsieur Fouchard--all of us, in fact--know that you are in +league with certain other persons, and that these persons and yourself +have a very definite object in view. Do you admit that?” + +“Yes. Mademoiselle Fallières, I want you to know that I have done my +utmost to be loyal to you----” + +“Loyal!” laughed Fouchard scoffingly. + +“Be silent, please!” said Yolande. + +“Monsieur Fouchard may laugh, but it is true,” resumed Bertha. “You +have treated me with kindness, even though you have known for some +time that I have been masquerading. It is because of that that I have +begged you so often to leave this château----” + +“That is out of the question--but continue.” + +“It is true we have a definite object in view. I cannot tell you more, +for I am pledged to silence. But connected with the achieving of that +object there is considerable danger.” Her voice grew tenser. “Why do +you not take warning from what has already happened. The danger is not +from us, but from another.” + +“The creature who came into your room this evening?” put in Fouchard. + +“Yes.” + +“Is he also after the same thing as you?” queried Wallace. + +“I can tell you no more. If it were not that I have a great regard for +Mademoiselle Fallières I would not have said so much. Before I leave +the château I want to warn you again to take great care.” + +“So you are leaving me?” said Yolande. + +“It is impossible to stay longer, now that you know I am a +masquerader.” + +“But I have known it for some time. Bertha, are you being threatened +in any way--by those men? Are you a free agent?” + +“Yes. Quite--quite free.” + +“And do you imagine that I am going to let you slip away so easily?” +asked Fouchard bluntly. “I have kept my hands off you because it +happened to suit me, but----” + +“You are thinking of arresting me?” + +“I am--and I can make things very uncomfortable for you. By your +silence you are attempting to defeat the ends of justice.” + +“I am in your hands,” said Bertha calmly. “But you make a mistake if +you think you can convict me of anything. I know the law fairly well, +m’sieur. I can prove a complete alibi in respect of the two murders.” + +“But you know who did them,” snapped Fouchard. + +“So do you, m’sieur.” + +Fouchard ground his teeth at this. It was then that Yolande formulated +an idea that had taken root during the last two minutes. + +“I propose an armistice,” she said. + +“What?” + +“Wait, m’sieur! Bertha here is but one of a party of four. Suppose we +meet the other three at a round-table conference, and talk things +over?” + +Fouchard was aghast at the bare suggestion, and Wallace was a little +taken aback. + +“As soon as I lay hands on Niels I shall arrest him,” threatened +Fouchard. + +“No, you will not,” said Yolande. + +“And why not?” + +“Because I am making a special request of you. I want to be able to +assure Bertha on our words of honour that we will cease to wage war +against each other for twelve hours commencing to-morrow at noon. And +I want to beg Bertha to bring her friends here in order that I may put +before them an important proposal.” + +“What?” asked Fouchard. + +“That can be discussed later.” + +“But it is preposterous! Here are a gang of house-breakers, +kidnappers, and----” + +“The idea is good,” interrupted Wallace. “What has either side to lose +by adopting it? What do you say, Bertha?” + +“Is mademoiselle serious?” + +“Perfectly serious. I would give much for peace. Fouchard--you will +consent?” + +“For twelve hours?” + +“No longer. If we fail to come to an agreement, we continue where we +left off. Isn’t it reasonable enough?” + +“I think it is insane,” grumbled Fouchard. “But if it is +mademoiselle’s sincere request, I can only answer, _noblesse oblige_.” + +“Good man!” said Wallace. “What do you think about it, Bertha? Will +your friends accept?” + +“I cannot say. But if M’sieur Fouchard will permit me to leave the +château without making any attempt to follow me, I will do my best to +bring about a meeting here to-morrow evening at eight o’clock.” + +“I promise.” + +“Thank you, Fouchard,” said Yolande. “And thank you, Bertha. I think +we should be friends and not foes.” + +“Would to God it were possible!” + + * * * * * * * + +On the following afternoon Niels and his two accomplices were talking +together in their retreat over a cup of tea. Walther and Heinrich were +their usual placid selves, but Niels wore an expression of impatience. + +“Rupert’s carelessness has ruined everything,” he said. “To let that +young devil escape----” + +“You can’t blame Rupert altogether,” said Heinrich. “Not one man in a +thousand would have risked a three-mile swim in the Channel at +nighttime. That young man has my admiration.” + +“He has my car,” snarled Niels. “We have to start all over again.” + +“Time is with us,” said Walther. “We know that Fouchard must go to +Paris in a few days. It will leave us to deal with the man Wallace.” + +“The other man may be back by then. The whole scheme has been ruined +by those two infernal Englishmen.” + +“But----” + +They all started as the door latch moved, and then uttered +ejaculations of surprise and welcome as Bertha entered the room. Niels +gazed at her a trifle suspiciously, for Niels had cause to believe +that Bertha was becoming too attached to Yolande. + +“What now?” he asked. + +“I saw him last night.” + +“What!” + +“He entered my room. Oh, horrible--horrible. I was frightened, and +tried to run, but he lashed me to a chair and gagged me. Then he +produced a razor. I thought my last moment had come, but he laughed +madly and went out.” + +“Do you think he recognised you?” + +“I don’t know. I felt I was choking, and tried to cry out. Some of the +servants must have heard me, but they were too scared to come it. They +brought Fouchard.” + +“Well?” + +“Fouchard questioned me. Ultimately we went down to mademoiselle. Of +course, I could not say much.” + +“What do you call _much_?” asked Niels. + +“Nothing at all about--what we want. They--they know all about +me--about my connections with you men.” + +“That was obvious.” + +“I told mademoiselle I would leave at once.” + +“Why?” + +“Because the situation is impossible. Her interest and ours conflict +so much that I refuse to masquerade any longer.” + +“You can’t,” said Walther, “since she already knows.” + +“What I mean is that I prefer to be an open foe--if that is the right +word. But wait! At the end she made a strange suggestion. She wants me +to bring you three to a kind of armistice conference. She says she has +an important proposal to put forward that may be acceptable to----” + +“Splendid!” scoffed Niels. “And we are to walk up there and hold out +our hands for M’sieur Fouchard to slip his pretty bracelets over. +Really!” + +“Let me finish!” said Bertha. “There is more sense in this than you +imagine. Fouchard has given his word of honour that he will keep this +armistice to the letter--twelve hours from noon to-day. You can trust +him, Niels. This is no trick. He would not consent at first, but +mademoiselle won him over--with Wallace’s help.” + +“Queer situation!” mused Heinrich. “You have no idea what this +proposal embodies?” + +“None. She would not even tell Fouchard.” + +“It would be madness to go there,” said Niels. “What is there for us +to discuss with them?” + +“But if we can trust their words of honour no harm could come of such +a meeting. We have nothing against that party--except that they +obstruct us,” said Heinrich. + +“I agree,” put in Walther. “Armistices have a strange way of putting +an end to wars. Bertha is a splendid judge of character. She ought to +be in a position to assure us that there is no trickery behind this +invitation.” + +“I will absolutely vouch for them,” said Bertha. “Come, Niels, be +reasonable.” + +“So much is at stake,” said Niels grimly. “A false step and all will +be lost. I cannot see that any good can come of this, but I am willing +to fall in with you others. It will be a fine joke to chat with +Fouchard.” + +“Eight o’clock to-night, then--at the château.” + +“We shall be there. How did you get here?” + +“I hired a car at Arveyes, but left it a good distance away. Have no +fear--the driver is an idiot.” + +“I’ll drive you back,” said Niels. “We’ve got a wonderful piece of +mechanism that drops spare parts all over the road. We drive it ‘all +out’ at twenty-five miles an hour. Perhaps I may induce mademoiselle +to sell me my own car?” + +So Bertha was dropped by Niels in the forest outside the château, for +he was not the type of man to take any unnecessary risk. Bertha at +once conveyed the news of her success to Yolande, who passed it on to +Wallace and Fouchard. + +“Most irregular!” grumbled Fouchard. “What has she got up her sleeve?” + +“We shall soon know,” replied Wallace. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + THE MEETING + +Niels and his confederates arrived punctually on the stroke of +eight, and were shown into the drawing-room. Yolande and Bertha were +not yet present, but Fouchard and Wallace were. The former’s eyes +gleamed when they beheld the shaggy-headed Niels, and Niels returned +the look with interest. But Walther and Heinrich were bland as +usual--even smiling. + +“Please sit down,” said Wallace. “Mademoiselle will be here in a few +minutes.” + +“So we meet again, Mr. Wallace,” said Niels, as he occupied the big +armchair which was better suited to Walther’s frame. + +“Of course! Did you imagine we should not?” replied Wallace. + +“I had certain doubts.” + +“You probably overlooked the fact that Englishmen are a bit +amphibious.” + +“A novel idea--an armistice,” said Walther. “Did it originate with +Monsieur Fouchard?” + +“You know it didn’t,” said Fouchard. “But women usually get their way +with men. Make no mistake, my friends--my heart is not in this +table-talk.” + +“Nor mine,” said Niels. + +Walther waved his big white hand, like the born peacemaker. + +“If we start like this, there isn’t much hope of success,” he said. +“At least let us keep the spirit of the thing.” + +“Hear, hear!” agreed Heinrich. “If m’sieur wants our heads he may have +them to-morrow or the next day. I’m sorry your sea voyage was +curtailed, Mr. Wallace. I quite envied you.” + +“Ah--here is mademoiselle!” said Fouchard. + +Yolande entered the room with Bertha. She was attired in a black +velvet evening dress which suited her to perfection, and she smiled +and nodded at the men. + +“Please be seated,” she said. “I am sorry to be late. Bertha, will you +sit next your--friends?” + +Niels was twisting his thumbs impatiently, and Fouchard looked as if +he wanted to get the farce over. But Walther and Heinrich were more +resigned. There was something deeply arrestive in the pale majestic +figure of Yolande, and their eyes were focused on her all the time. + +“There is no need for preliminaries,” she said. “Bertha has told you +exactly what has taken place recently. I have not much to say, but I +beg you to consider it carefully. In the first place, may I presume +that none of you have any animus against me or against my friends?” + +“Not in the least,” said Walther. “We were compelled to take--certain +steps.” + +“Such as kidnapping?” put in Wallace. + +“Well--yes.” + +“And I am right in assuming that there is something in or about this +château which it is your intention to remove?” + +“That is so,” replied Niels. + +“It is of value to you?” + +“Yes.” + +“And to me?” + +“No,” said Walther. + +“Yes,” added Niels firmly. + +“Which of you am I to believe?” + +There was no reply to this question, but Bertha looked hard at Niels, +and Walther moved uneasily. + +“Once you have what you require you will trouble me no more--is that +so?” + +“Absolutely.” + +Her eyes grew a little hard, and the white hands on the polished +walnut table became clenched. + +“And the other party in this mystery--the elusive assassin who +murdered my father and Severin--will the removal of what you want +cause him to cease troubling us?” + +Niels murmured “Yes,” and the others nodded their heads. + +“Then he too wants the same thing?” + +“Yes,” said Niels. + +“Why hasn’t he located it? He has been haunting this place for two +years--behaving like a demented creature. Does it mean you have a clue +that he does not possess?” + +“Yes,” said Walther. “But----” + +Niels stopped him with a look. Yolande waited for him to resume, but +was met with a stony silence. + +“Well,” she said slowly. “Here is my proposal--my offer. I give you +whatever lies buried here. You are here--on the spot. Take what you +want and leave me in peace.” + +“What!” gasped Fouchard. + +“I mean it. Remember your promise, Fouchard. They cannot take the +château or the land. I have no use for buried treasure, and if it +rids this place of that other murderous searcher then I shall be well +repaid.” + +The visitors were staring at each other curiously. Wallace imagined +there would be an immediate acceptance, but he was wrong. Niels’s face +was like a mask, and Heinrich looked doubtful. It was Bertha who +strove to work for peace. + +“Why not, Niels?” she begged. “Mademoiselle is generous. Don’t you +think----” + +“Wait!” said Niels. “Mademoiselle Fallières, would you permit us to +be alone for five minutes--no more?” + +“Certainly! Let us go to the terrace, Fouchard. Mr. Wallace, will you +get me a wrap from the hall?” + +When they had gone, Niels closed the door firmly behind them and came +back to the table. + +“They know nothing,” he said. “Nothing!” + +“But she has given her word, Niels.” + +“Would she keep it--in the circumstances?” + +“Yes.” + +“But would Fouchard? I tell you it is impossible. Walther--Heinrich, +are you mad, to think of such a thing? You know Fouchard by now. He is +out of sympathy with the whole thing. He might hold his hand to-night, +but not to-morrow. There would be no time. No--I will not have it.” + +“I think Niels is right,” said Heinrich. “It requires more time. They +must be got out of the way. Fouchard is the greatest danger--he hates +us, and will never relent.” + +“Do you think that, Walther?” asked Bertha. + +“I don’t know. I feel almost inclined to take the risk.” + +“Risk! There is no question of risk,” rasped Niels. “The outcome would +be inevitable. We must work alone I tell you. Besides, our chances are +better than ever before. Fouchard will go soon, and we have discovered +the other place. It means work--hard work--but there are four of us. +In four days we could achieve it, without coming here at all.” + +“That is true.” + +“Then have done with this parleying. Our interests are so opposed they +cannot be harmonised by any display of sentiment. I am finished.” + +“Yes. There is no more to be said. Shall I ask them to come inside?” + +“Wait!” cried Bertha. “I believe you are all wrong. Delay might be +fatal----” + +“Call them in,” interrupted Niels. “Bertha, you must leave this in my +hands. I am grateful for all you have done, but the risks are greater +than you believe.” + +Bertha said no more, and Walther opened the door and brought Yolande +and the others from the terrace. + +“Well?” asked Yolande. “Have you decided?” + +“We have,” said Niels. “We appreciate your desire to bring about a +peaceful solution, but it cannot be done. We regret we must decline +your offer.” + +“Good!” said Fouchard, with his eyes sparkling. + +“I’m sorry,” said Yolande heavily. + +“So much for talk,” scoffed Fouchard. “Now, my friends, we know where +we stand. I’ve wasted valuable time, but I’m going to get you before +long.” + +“Steady, Fouchard!” pleaded Wallace. + +“I fear I must bid you good-bye, mademoiselle,” said Bertha. “I can +stay no longer.” + +“I understand.” + +“I will get my belongings.” + +As she left the room the telephone bell rang. Fouchard went to the +instrument and picked up the receiver. + +“Call from London,” he said. + +“I expect that is Conrad,” said Wallace. “I had forgotten he could get +through here.” + +“Hello--hello! Yes, Mr. Wallace is here. This is Fouchard speaking. +How are you, Mr. Conrad?” + +“Does he want me?” asked Wallace. + +“Yes.” + +Wallace went to the telephone. Conrad’s voice came through quite +clearly. There was about a minute’s conversation and then they were +rung off suddenly. Wallace came to Fouchard. + +“He had discovered something,” he said. “He is coming over at once. +Jove, it must be important, for he has appointed a deputy at the +Congress. It has something to do with Steinbech.” + +“Steinbech! The name on the paper?” + +“So it is. I had forgotten.” + +Fouchard swung round to see Niels’s face curiously agitated, and +Walther seemed equally disturbed. + +“We seemed to have got on the trail by an accident,” mused Fouchard. +“Does Steinbech convey anything to you, my friend?” + +“Nothing!” snarled Niels. + +“Well, it does to me, and it does to Mr. Conrad, or he would not be +coming over here. Your decision just now was a trifle premature, it +seems. But it is too late to recant. At last we have the key to the +mystery.” + +Niels laughed scornfully, but it was obvious that the whole trio was +startled by this piece of news. When Bertha returned with her bag they +drove off, and Fouchard rubbed his hands. + +“We’re on the trail. I knew the key lay in that piece of paper. Did +you see their expressions?” + +“It’s a pity we gave them warning,” said Wallace. “But for the moment +I forgot I had heard the name before.” + +“But why did they not accept my offer?” asked Yolande. + +“They don’t trust us. Obviously the thing they want is of such value +they suspect we may change our minds later. Pity Conrad was cut off +like that. I want more information. Can I telephone him?” + +“He is in the provinces. I doubt if you could get on to him. Besides, +he said he was coming at once. If he leaves London to-morrow he may be +here by the evening.” + +“Well, we must wait for him. Steinbech--Steinbech, and the figures! +What the devil do they mean?” + +“Conrad evidently knows. It looks as if he has stolen all our thunder. +We haven’t been able to see the wood for trees.” + +“I wonder if your optimism is justified,” said Yolande. “What did Mr. +Conrad say exactly?” + +“He said that by a stroke of wonderful luck he had stumbled across +what might prove to be the key to the solution of this mystery. He +said it all rested with a man named Steinbech, but instead of getting +down to brass tacks he started to tell me how he was walking up a +street in Manchester when he suddenly saw-- The wretched operator cut +me off then.” + +“I wonder if he means that he saw this man Steinbech. But he wouldn’t +know him if he did,” mused Fouchard. “It’s a pity he didn’t start his +story two minutes earlier.” + +“I suppose he reckoned there was plenty of time. He is always keen to +make a yarn of anything. Anyway we shall be seeing him within +forty-eight hours. What will be Niels’s next move, I wonder?” + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII. + A CALL FOR HELP + +A telegram from Conrad arrived the next morning. It informed Wallace +that he would arrive at Arveyes on the ten o’clock train the following +morning. + +“Good!” said Fouchard. “That will still give me two days. I was never +more keen to unravel a mystery in my life. I’ll come along with you +and meet him if I may.” + +Wallace was quite agreeable, and he went into the garage to tinker +about with the Bentley. The first thing he saw was Watkins lying in a +corner with his hands bound and a gag in his mouth. Then he noticed +that the captured car was gone. + +“Damn!” he muttered, and set the chauffeur free. + +“What has happened, Watkins?” he asked. + +The chauffeur gasped for breath and rubbed his cramped limbs, +muttering something about “them blasted Huns” under his breath. + +“Last night,” he eventually said aloud, “I was just about to turn in +when someone knocked. I thought it was you or M’sieur Fouchard. Lumme! +I had scarcely poked my head outside the door when something was +clapped over my nose. It put me off in a jiff. That’s all I know about +it.” + +“They’ve taken their car.” + +“So that’s what they were after?” + +“Yes. We ought to have put it out of action.” + +Fouchard received the news with a scowl. + +“So much for their word of honour,” he said. “They used the first +opportunity to bring off a coup.” + +“I’m not so sure--this may have happened after midnight. I’m grateful +that they didn’t mess up the Bentley.” + +On the following morning the two men set out for Arveyes, arriving +there a trifle early. They discovered that the train was already forty +minutes late, so Fouchard killed time by visiting the local police, +whilst Wallace sat and smoked at the small café next the station. + +“Brilliant lot!” grumbled Fouchard on his return. “They haven’t a +notion where Niels and his friends are hiding. Here comes the train.” + +When the few passengers had alighted, it became apparent that Conrad +was not amongst them. There was no other long-distance train until the +evening, so they went back to Grammont in the hope of finding a +telegram. But nothing had arrived. + +“There would scarcely be time,” said Yolande. “It takes hours and +hours for a telegram to reach us. No doubt he realises that, and will +arrive by the next train.” + +“I wonder?” said Fouchard mysteriously. + +“You don’t think that Niels----” + +“Why not? That man would move heaven and hell to prevent our +discovering his secret. Last night he came and stole his car. They +must have pushed it a good way, for I sleep lightly and heard no +noise. Why did they need the car so urgently?” + +“By Jove--yes,” said Wallace. “They had time to get to Calais and +waylay Conrad. I believe you have hit upon the truth, Fouchard.” + +“I’m sure of it. We were fools to give them the cue. Without Conrad’s +help we are as we were.” + +“Let us wait and see what the next train brings,” pleaded Yolande. “To +kidnap anyone at Calais is not an easy matter.” + +So the two men went to the station in the evening, and saw the train +in. There were but a dozen passengers for Arveyes, and no Conrad. + +“The devil!” said Fouchard viciously. + +Wallace came home alone, for Fouchard had business to attend to in +Arveyes, and said he would walk back later. He had scarcely got the +car into the garage when a small boy was seen nosing round the +château. + +“What do you want?” asked Wallace in French. + +“_Je cherche_ M’sieur Wallace.” + +“I am he.” + +The boy produced a piece of paper from his blouse. Some words were +scrawled on it in French--so badly that he could scarcely decipher +them. But at last he succeeded. The message ran: + + + “_Am a prisoner at a farm three kilos from Basset. It is called Mont + Rouge. Messenger writing at my dictation as I cannot use hands.--_ + + “Conrad.” + + +He bade the boy wait and went inside the château to find Yolande. She +saw at once that he had news of some importance. + +“A message?” + +“Yes--from Conrad. That gang have got him. Do you know a village +called Basset?” + +“Yes--it is twenty-five kilometres from here.” + +“Read that.” + +She did so and pursed her lips reflectively. + +“Is it a ruse?” + +“I don’t think so. But I’ll get the boy in and see what we can wring +from him.” + +The wondering boy was duly cross-questioned. His story had every sign +of truth. He lived near Mont Rouge and had lost a kitten. On going +near the farm he heard strange noises. They came from a +cellar--through a grating. At first he ran away, but he crept back +again and saw a face. Gaining courage, he got closer. A man behind the +bars told him to write what he had written, and to bring it along to a +M’sieur Wallace, who would reward him. He did not see anyone else on +the farm. He thought the man who owned the place was away on holiday. + +“Sounds genuine enough,” said Wallace. “Let me look up the map.” + +He found Basset easily, and its position gave him reason to believe +that at last they had located the hiding-place of Niels. + +“I’m going there at once,” he said. + +“Better take Fouchard.” + +“I left him in Arveyes.” + +“You can ring him up at the police station.” + +“I’ll try.” + +He got on to the gendarmerie, but was informed that Fouchard had just +left, and was on his way back to Grammont. + +“I can’t wait, Yolande. When Fouchard comes back tell him where I have +gone. He can come after me. I hate to leave you alone, but I can’t +miss this opportunity.” + +“No, you must go, of course. But I wish you were not alone. Why not +take Watkins?” + +“I think he is better here,” he said significantly. + +Then he remembered an important fact, and asked the boy how he managed +to get to Grammont from so remote a place as Basset. The boy replied +instantly. He had climbed on to the tank of a motorcar after it had +stopped for petrol, and had had a free ride to within a mile of the +château. + +“He’s genuine,” said Wallace. “I’ll take him back with me.” + +“You--you will take care?” she begged. “I fear they are capable of +violence in an emergency.” + +“I know it. But Fouchard will know where I am He ought to arrive an +hour or so after me.” + +She went outside the château to see him off, and ere he departed she +gripped his hand warmly. + +“Come back soon,” she murmured. “You--you seem part of my very +existence.” + +It was so unexpected he let his foot slip on the clutch and the +Bentley almost jumped towards the gate. His heart was thrilled, for it +was the first definite sign of anything more than friendship on her +part. The boy had evidently never been a passenger in a fast car +before, and he sat huddled in the corner of his seat like a frightened +mouse, whilst the Bentley roared down the road. + +“Which way?” + +“_Tout droit!_” + +Ten miles farther on the boy pointed to the left, but he left it +rather late and the car performed a nerve-racking skid. + +“_Mon Dieu!_” + +“All right, sonny! There are some lights in the distance. Is that +Basset?” + +The boy gulped and nodded, and a few minutes later the straggling +village was entered. It was a poverty-stricken district, for the war +had desolated the place, and all kinds of weird and wonderful +dwellings had been built upon the old ruins, out of corrugated iron, +old army huts and so forth. Beyond these there was a network of narrow +roads, and the boy’s local knowledge had to be resorted to at every +few minutes. + +At last Mont Rouge came to view. It was a squat farmhouse lying some +distance off the road, and the only vehicular approach was so deep in +mud that Wallace decided to leave the car under some trees, on a kind +of “island” near the junction of the farm-track with the main road. + +The boy showed no great desire to approach the dark farm, so Wallace +got a few more details from him, and paid him off. He then climbed +over the fence and made his way across the meadows to where Mont Rouge +could be seen silhouetted against the moonlit sky. So far as he could +see, there was not a gleam of light about the place, and he began to +fear that Conrad must have been taken away since he had sent the +message. + +He remembered to bring a small electric torch with him, and with the +aid of this he explored the back of the building, for the boy had +informed him that the grating through which he had seen the face of +Conrad was situated opposite an outhouse. He reached a door and gently +tried the handle. It was locked. The light from the torch revealed +tyre marks not far from him, and he saw that these led into a shed. +But the shed was empty, though there was evidence that a car had been +parked there recently. + +At last he found the grating. It was a small affair--less than a foot +in diameter and about the same depth. He knelt down and flashed the +torch through it. Immediately the ray fell on a familiar face, and he +uttered a low cry of joy. + +“Connie!” + +“Good lad! I wondered if you were coming.” + +“Is any of the gang here?” + +“I’m not sure. I heard the car leave about three hours ago, but could +not see who was in it.” + +“How can I get in?” + +“Have you tried the doors?” + +“I’ve tried the one close by. Is there another at the front?” + +“Yes.” + +“I’ll go there. Keep quiet--I’ll be with you before very long.” + +He went round the house and found the front entrance, but this, like +the back, was in darkness and the door was locked. There was a kind of +portico above it, supported by small pillars over which grew wistaria. +The gnarled trunk gave him footing, and he swarmed on to the top and +tried the bedroom window. It was latched, but there was room between +the sashes through which to insert the blade of his knife. In two +minutes he was inside. It was poorly furnished, contained an old +four-post bed and a few awful prints. The door led him into the +corridor from which a staircase descended. He went down this +cautiously, for the stairs were old and creaked badly. + +On reaching the hall he was in a quandary, for there were three doors +leading off, but after a moment’s reflection he chose the farthermost +one, believing that it would lead him to the kitchen and thence to the +cellar. He was turning the handle when he heard a noise from behind, +and swung round to see Walther facing him. + +Wallace’s hand dived for his pistol, but Walther divined his intention +and sprang at him like a panther. Despite his big size he was +wonderfully agile, and his hands reached Wallace before the pistol +could be got into action. The torch fell to the floor, but the hall +was well illuminated by a light from the room from which Walther had +emerged. + +“Got you!” grunted Walther. + +But he sadly underestimated the strength of his opponent. Wallace, +though two stone lighter, was built like a gun, and was literally +spoiling for a fight. He tripped Walther neatly, and the pair fell +with a resounding bump, clutched in each other’s arms. Wallace had the +good fortune to be on top, but his advantage did not last long. With a +Herculean effort Walther flung him backward, and in a second was on +his feet again. + +It was now plain pugilism, in which all the odds were on the younger +man. He forgot all about the pistol, and framed up to his stalwart +adversary. Walther had some knowledge of the game, but not enough to +compete with the trained boxer. In the confined space the fight went +on for five minutes--a savage affair in which hard blows were struck. +Then Walther began to show signs of distress. Reduced to the +defensive, he strove to cover his jaw from the lightning drives. But +Wallace was old at the game. He planted his right into the big ribs +and as Walther’s hands came down he drove his left to the jaw. + +There came a sound like a horse falling, and Walther’s fifteen stone +lay huddled up on the dirty linoleum. Wallace immediately dragged the +heavy body through the end door. It led to a stone-flagged kitchen and +on one side of it was a capacious larder, with two stout bolts on the +door. He shoved Walther inside and rammed home the bolts. + +Retrieving his torch he discovered the door which led to the cellar. +Twelve stone steps led down into the darkness, and there was another +bolted door at the bottom. Inside this, lying on a pile of wood and +coke, was Conrad, trussed like a fowl ready for roasting. + +“What happened?” he asked. + +“Walther. I had to deal with him. By Jove, they didn’t mean you to +escape!” + +“They pushed a filthy rag into my mouth, but I managed to get rid of +it.… Did you hear that?” + +“What?” + +“The car. They’re back!” + +Wallace heard it now--and voices. He slashed at the rope with his +knife, and the bonds fell away. + +“Quick!” he said. “We haven’t a moment to spare.” + +But Conrad was slow, for one of his legs refused to function properly. +Wallace rubbed it for him with all the vigour he possessed. + +“Better?” + +“Yes.” + +“We’ll get out the way I came in--upstairs and through the bedroom +window. Hurry!” + +They reached the kitchen and heard Walther dealing smashing blows at +the larder door. As Wallace reached the bedroom landing the front door +opened. He looked back and saw Bertha about to enter. She saw him and +also Conrad at the same moment. + +“Niels!” + +“Neck or nothing, Connie--come on!” + +Both of them jumped clean from the portico on to a soft patch of +pampas grass, and immediately made out of the garden and across the +fields. When they were close upon the road Conrad looked back and saw +two blazing car lights moving slowly--but towards them. + +“They’re giving chase,” he said. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + CHECK! + +Wallace found his car and was moving in a few seconds. More by luck +than judgment he found his way through the network of roads into +Basset. From there it was straight going except for two turnings. + +“What was it you discovered, Connie?” + +“I discovered who Steinbech is, and I think I know what those figures +signify-- By Jove, they’re following--and gaining!” + +Wallace could see the reflection of the other car’s lights in his +driving mirror. There were three persons aboard, so it was obvious +that Walther had been set free. + +“They are desperate this time,” he said. “They know that you have hit +upon the secret and mean to stop us from using that knowledge.” + +Zip! A bullet hit the road alongside the car, and the report followed +later. Wallace set his mouth firmly and “opened out.” At terrific pace +the Bentley roared up the road, but the lights in the driving mirror +seemed no farther away. + +Zip! Zip! Two more bullets hit the road and went whining into the air. + +“This is the devil!” said Conrad. + +“It isn’t us they are aiming at.” + +“The tank?” + +“No. That wouldn’t pull us up quick enough. The target is a back tyre. +God knows what will happen if they succeed, for the road is as greasy +as pork.” + +“Have you got your pistol?” + +“In my pocket.” + +“I’m going to have a pot at them,” said Conrad. “Hanged if I can sit +here and calmly serve as a target.” + +He extracted the pistol and let off two rounds. But it seemed to have +no effect upon the speed of the overtaking car. + +“Let ’em come,” muttered Conrad. “I’ll plant a bullet or two in their +front tyres. That ought to cause them some excitement.” + +Wallace eased off a trifle, but still maintained a prodigious speed. +The other car came nearer and nearer, and Conrad rested the barrel of +the pistol on the back of the seat. He was about to let loose when a +regular volley came from behind, and simultaneously a different kind +of report was heard closer at hand. Unfortunately the Bentley was just +taking the corner, when the near-side tyre became deflated from a +bullet puncture. The car bumped alarmingly, and got into a frightful +skid. Conrad had a kind of futuristic vision of hedges, signposts, and +telegraph post all jumbled up, and a second later he was flung clean +out of his seat and over the hedge. + +Wallace, more prepared for the inevitable, suffered less. He made a +great effort to prevent the car from overturning, and succeeded by +ramming her nose into a heap of sand on the roadside. But the violent +stoppage took the skin off his knees and elbows, and almost stunned +him. + +He saw the other car pass the turning and pull up dead. Three figures +leapt from it and made towards him. Vainly he searched for the +pistol--and was dumbfounded to discover suddenly that Conrad was no +longer with him. Niels came running forward with a pistol in his hand. + +“Put up your hands!” he snapped. + +In reply, Wallace picked up the jack-handle--a fairly heavy bar of +iron--and crouched behind the car. + +“Come and get me,” he said. + +“Better come quietly.” + +“Careful, Niels! Look!” + +Walther pointed up the road, and Niels cursed to see car lights +approaching at a great speed. Wallace turned his head sharply and +recognised the oncoming car. It was Yolande’s Hispano, and he had no +doubt that Fouchard was aboard. He waved his hands. + +“The police!” exclaimed Heinrich. “Quick!” + +The trio beat an instant retreat. Fouchard jumped from the Hispano +before it stopped and ran forward. He was followed by two gendarmes. + +“What has happened? Was that Niels?” + +“Yes--the whole gang.” + +“_Mon Dieu_--after them, Laroche!” + +“It’s no use--you haven’t a chance,” said Wallace. “Conrad is lying +somewhere about--injured, I fear.” + +“I can’t miss this opportunity.” + +“It’s no opportunity. The Hispano can’t look at that car. They are off +already--see! I know where they hang out, and will direct you in a few +minutes. Help me find Conrad.” + +Fouchard fumed as the other car went speeding away. In any case, the +Bentley was too much across the road to permit the Hispano to pass.… +They found Conrad over the hedge. He had hit his head against +something and was quite unconscious. Wallace found a nasty wound just +over the right temple. + +“Better get him to the château, and call a doctor,” he said, after +they had carried Conrad into the Hispano. “The Bentley seems to be all +right except for a burst tyre, but her beauty is ruined.” + +After making sure that nothing else was wrong, Wallace sped them away +and then changed his back wheel. He overtook them before they reached +the château, and was able to help Fouchard carry Conrad to a bedroom. +Yolande came in with agitated face. + +“I have rung for a doctor,” she said. “Do you think he is seriously +injured?” + +“Impossible to tell. What a rotten time he has had! Did you tell the +doctor it was urgent?” + +“Yes. He should be here in a quarter of an hour.” + +“There is nothing I can do here,” said Fouchard. “Where exactly is +Niels’s rendezvous?” + +Wallace told him how to reach the place, and Fouchard started off +immediately with the excited gendarmes. The doctor lost no time in +coming to the château, and Wallace and Yolande awaited his verdict +anxiously. + +“Concussion,” he said. “He has sustained a bad blow, but I think there +is no danger. In all probability he will regain consciousness by +to-morrow morning.” + +He did all he possibly could for the unconscious man, and then left, +after promising to call on the morrow. + +“He ought to have a nurse,” said Yolande. “But it is impossible to get +one to-night.” + +“I’ll shift my bed into his room,” said Wallace. “Poor old Connie! He +seems to receive all the bad knocks.” + +“Did he tell you how they managed to capture him?” + +“No. There wasn’t time. I had scarcely set him free when Niels +returned. They followed us by car and burst my back tyre with a pistol +shot. But for Fouchard’s timely arrival, the pair of us would have +been taken back to the cellar.” + +“And you don’t even know what it is that he has to tell us?” + +“That’s the worst of it. He was about to tell me when the gang started +shooting. Here we are right on the verge of the solution, but helpless +until Conrad is able to speak.” + +Two hours passed before Fouchard returned with the Hispano. He was +covered with mud and would not say a word until he had had a clean up. +From this fact Wallace deduced that once again the gang had been too +smart for him. + +“Well,” said Wallace at last. “Did you find the place?” + +“Yes, but the birds had flown. We ransacked it, but found nothing. +They had taken their bags and belongings, so it will be useless +looking there again.” + +“They haven’t gone far.” + +“I’m not so sure. Now that we have Conrad we can get to the bottom of +this thing. I think they have shot their last bolt.” + +“There is another hitch, Fouchard.” + +“Eh?” + +“Conrad has concussion. We shall learn nothing from him to-night.” + +“That is bad luck. I am due in Paris to-morrow night. But I shall not +go.” + +“But you said----” + +“They will have to do without my evidence for a day or two. I am not +going to Paris before this affair is cleared up. I shall wire them +to-morrow. If it had been me that was thrown out of the car instead of +your friend I could not go to Paris. Very well, I will have concussion +or yellow fever.” + +“Splendid!” said Yolande. “If it were not for poor Mr. Conrad I should +feel more hopeful to-night than I have felt for many days. I have an +intuition that we are coming out into the light.” + +Fouchard had a big pile of official documents to wade through, so he +offered to do the work in Conrad’s room. Wallace was grateful, but he +suspected that, although Fouchard’s offer was more or less +disinterested, he yet had hopes that Conrad might recover sufficiently +to be able to solve the enigma of the slip of paper. + +“I’m glad Fouchard is staying,” said Yolande. “For, despite his +belief, I feel sure that Niels has not yet thrown up the sponge. He +knows that Conrad has made an important discovery, but that may drive +him into making a last furious attempt to outwit us.” + +“Perhaps. But we should be able to deal with them.” + +They were walking up and down the terrace, with the light of the full +moon full upon them. From a tree in the abyss beneath them an owl set +up an eerie hoot, and Wallace felt Yolande’s hand close upon his arm. + +“Only an owl.” + +“I dislike them intensely. I heard one on that dreadful night when my +father----” + +“Don’t think of that.” + +“Most of the horror has gone now. It was the first blow that was +almost unbearable. Do you believe in an after-life?” she added +suddenly. + +“I don’t know. I can’t see why there should be. If the soul is +immortal, why cannot it remember what it was before it entered our +bodies on this earth?” + +“It may all be there--in our subconscious mind. It seems to me that +all this love which we cherish--the vast pyramid of affection and +devotion that we build up from the day we are born--cannot be +shattered in a moment, as if it never existed. You know, sometimes I +feel that my father is with me--telling me to hold on, to have courage +and all will come right. It has helped to dispel depression, and +sometimes, when I have wakened in the middle of the night in one of +those appalling terrors that are born in dreams, I have imagined I +have seen him smiling at me. Do you think that is rubbish?” + +“Why should it be? I’ll admit it has never happened to me. But that is +no argument.” + +“Are you never afraid?” + +“What is being afraid? I don’t quite know. I certainly get a cold +sensation down my spine when queer things happen that I can’t account +for. I suppose all fear is a kind of ignorance. Even this--this +strange demented being who so consistently eludes us--would not be in +the least fearful if we knew exactly who he was, and all about his +intentions.” + +“Aren’t they the same as Niels’s?” + +“That is the logical conclusion. Now you’re trembling.” + +“I can’t help it,” she said. “I’m not afraid--not now, but I dread to +think of the day when you will go--for good.” + +“Suppose I don’t go for good?” + +“But you must. Your work lies in England, and--well, of course, our +companionship must end. I shall never be able to express my gratitude +to you and Mr. Conrad for your help, and your company when I needed it +so badly.” + +“Yolande!” + +There was a curious tremor in his voice, and it caused her to draw her +breath quickly. + +“When I went away earlier in the evening you said that I--I had become +almost a part of your existence. Is that--quite true?” + +“I--I----” + +“You meant that?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then let me know the worst or the best now. I love you, Yolande. It +seems an impertinence to tell you after having known you for only a +month. But I can’t help myself--I love you to distraction. It isn’t +friendship--or sympathy for a woman who has suffered much. Those count +too--but love dominates them. Tell me I’m not asking--too much?” + +She hung her head for a moment, and then raised it and looked straight +into his eyes, with orbs that seemed to contain a sacred fire. + +“I love you too, Ralph,” she replied softly. + +There in the moonlight, on the haunted terrace of the Château +Grammont, he kissed her on the lips, and thought he heard in place of +the hooting owl the carolling of celestial voices. + + + + + CHAPTER XXV. + THE FINAL BLOW + +By the morning Conrad’s condition was little changed, though Wallace +thought that the pulse was a trifle stronger. His own rest had been +very broken, for the doctor had left instructions for hot-water +bottles to be applied to the sides and feet of the unconscious man, +and these had had to be refilled at intervals. The sight of his best +friend lying there so pallid and still affected him deeply, and robbed +him of some of the joy that Yolande’s confession had given birth to. + +Fouchard came in at an early hour to see how things were progressing, +but shook his head sadly when he saw the still form. He stayed while +Wallace took his bath, but nothing that he could do would bring a +sound from the closed lips. + +“I’m worried about him,” said Wallace. “If anything were to +happen----” + +“I don’t think there is any danger. I’ve seen cases of concussion +before. Once they come round they pick up very quickly. It’s such a +pity when he is in possession of valuable information. That paper----” + +“Damn the paper! I’m more concerned about Conrad.” + +“That’s natural, of course.” + +“Have you seen Yolande this morning?” + +“Not yet. She said she would send for a nurse.” + +“I doubt if she will get one to stay. The château has such an evil +reputation. I wish the doctor would come. He said he would pay an +early visit.” + +“Did you see that?” asked Fouchard suddenly. “He moved his lips, I’ll +swear! Look--there it is again!” + +There was no doubting it this time. Wallace’s heart beat a new note, +for it was the first movement of any kind that he had observed since +the night before. + +“Conrad!” cried Fouchard loudly. + +“S-sh! What the devil are you doing?” + +“It’s all right--the usual thing. Sometimes a shout will arouse them +to full consciousness. Conrad!” + +“I don’t trust your medical knowledge,” grumbled Wallace. + +“_Zut!_ I’ve seen men with half their heads blown off brought round +this way. You feel his pulse--it is going well.” + +This was true, and there were more slight facial movements. +Fortunately the doctor turned up a few minutes later. He examined the +patient thoroughly and nodded his head. + +“Well?” + +“I think he is coming round. In any case there is no need for +apprehension. I will leave some calomel pills which must be given to +him as soon as he becomes conscious. Did mademoiselle get a nurse?” + +“Not yet.” + +“I don’t think she will be required. As a matter of fact, one hears +strange stories about the château. You might get a nurse from Paris, +but in the country where superstition is rife I fear that the grim +happenings here have an effect upon the natives. Well, the pulse is +much better. He is out of danger.” + +It was an hour later when Conrad opened his eyes, and tried to focus +them on objects about the room. At last they rested on Wallace’s face. + +“Connie!” + +The pale face became querulous. Conrad was trying to recall the past, +without much success. It came as a shock to Wallace to realise that he +was not recognised. + +“Don’t you know me, Connie?” + +“Ralph!” + +“Splendid! That’s good enough for the time being. Don’t worry, old +man. It will all come to you in time.” + +Fouchard slipped through the door, and smiled joyfully to see the +patient’s eyes open. + +“So he’s come round?” + +“Yes. But you aren’t going to start bombarding him with questions +yet.” + +“It wouldn’t take a minute.” + +“He wouldn’t understand. What difference does an hour or two make?” + +“Perhaps not. What’s that?” + +Wallace called “_Entrez!_” in response to the soft knock on the door, +and a maid entered. He thought she had come to tidy up the room, but +instead she broke into voluble French, with much hand movement. Her +brogue was so strong he did not get the gist of it for a moment, but +Fouchard’s expression, coupled with the mention of “mademoiselle,” was +enough to set his heart bounding. + +“What’s that?” he queried. + +“Mademoiselle--has vanished.” + +“Great heavens!” + +Fouchard turned to the trembling girl, wagging his finger at her as if +she were a child. + +“You are sure mademoiselle did not sleep in her room last night?” + +“_Mais non_, m’sieur. Come and look.” + +“Great God!” cried Wallace. “This is terrible!” + +They followed the maid into Yolande’s room. There was no sign of any +disturbance, and the bedclothes were turned back neatly. On the pillow +was Yolande’s white nightdress folded up. + +“Who saw her last?” asked Fouchard. + +“I did,” replied Wallace. “I said good night to her outside her door +at about ten-thirty.” + +“This looks bad.” + +“Bad!” Wallace became inarticulate with apprehension. His brain seemed +to snap as he thought of the creature who had presumably committed two +foul crimes already. The awful elusive form, with a naked razor-- +“What is to be done, Fouchard? What can one do?” + +But Fouchard looked stumped. He stood biting his finger-nails +viciously, staring from window to bed and back again. Yesterday he had +been boasting about nearing the solution, and now had happened what +looked like being the most ghastly business of all. + +“We--we’ve got to look,” he said in a low voice. “There’s a chance--a +bare chance.” + +“Let’s start then--for the love of God!” + +“The cellar--where we found the others. And if by a stroke of luck you +see that fiend, shoot--and shoot to kill. But I’m afraid--terribly +afraid----” + +Wallace pulled himself together. He dreaded the cellar as he would +hell itself, but there was no time for cowardice of that nature. With +Yolande had gone the very light of his existence. He found himself +filled with insensate rage and hate, and Fouchard’s advice was totally +unnecessary. + +They trod the various passages that led to the vaults, looking for +anything that might serve as a clue--but in vain. Fouchard switched on +the light and they descended the steps. So still was everything that +their breathing sounded amazingly loud, and Wallace imagined he could +actually hear the thumping of his heart. + +“We’ll start here and examine every yard of the place,” said Fouchard +in a sepulchral voice. “Look out for footprints!” + +Under the arches they went, eyes keen and ears alert. There was a damp +patch at the end of the first arcade, but it was unmarked by any +footprint. Wallace winced when he suddenly saw the big barrel in which +Fallières’s body had been discovered. He went to it but it was empty. + +“There’s something white!” said Fouchard. + +“I can’t----” + +“There--ahead!” + +Wallace ran to it, and picked it up. It was a cream-coloured +handkerchief--a small embroidered thing with the initials “Y.F.” in +the corner. It exuded the scent of roses. + +“Yolande’s!” + +“That proves it.” + +“He carried her here. She must be here--somewhere.” + +“But where?” + +Every article that could hide a human form was moved, but the small +handkerchief remained the sole clue. Yolande had disappeared as +completely as if the earth had engulfed her. After an hour of it +Fouchard gave it up, but Wallace went over the place yet again--hoping +against hope. + +“It’s no use,” said Fouchard. “We’re beaten.” + +“Beaten! She must be somewhere. If he had-- Ugh! It’s too terrible to +think about.” + +“We shall make no progress down here.” + +“Then what does this handkerchief signify? Why was Fallières’s body +found here--and Severin’s?” + +“Yes, I know it is very mysterious but what more can we do? This is a +different case. I believe that Yolande is still alive.” + +“You have no grounds----” + +“I know. It’s just a feeling. Wherever the Monster is hiding, there we +may hope to find mademoiselle. I am going to try the chapel again.” + +“But you told me there was no possibility of anyone hiding there. It +is little more than four bare walls.” + +“Still, I will look.” + +“Then I shall go up to the gallery. To think of her--with that +Thing----” + +He left Fouchard, and for two hours roamed all over the château. At +last he was compelled to accept defeat, and went back to Conrad +feeling that he was going mad. The incapacitated man was making +progress, for he recognised Wallace immediately. + +“How are you feeling, old man?” asked Wallace brokenly. + +“I--my head. I can’t think what happened to me. Why am I here?” + +“Don’t you remember the car--and the accident?” + +“Car! Yes, there was a car. You were driving madly and someone was +shooting----” + +“Yes--yes. Go on!” + +“There was a cellar and a grating--and you were looking through at +me.” + +“That was before the accident. Conrad, try to understand me. Yolande +has gone--that devil has got her. We have a slip of paper with figures +on it and a name. You came from England because you had discovered +something. Can’t you remember what it was? It may lead me to Yolande.” + +“Yolande! Gone!” + +“Yes. God help her! Try to concentrate.” + +While Conrad wrestled with the disintegrated segments of his mind, +Fouchard knocked and entered. + +“No luck!” he said bitterly. “Why, he is conscious!” + +“S-sh! He’s getting a grip on things.” Then he questioned Conrad: “Do +you remember the name Steinbech?” + +“Steinbech! Why, that was it--Steinbech. It was a book--I brought it +with me.” + +“A book!” gasped Fouchard. “Where is it? What did it contain about +this place?” + +“In my luggage--only a small book.” Then, with a great effort: “Why +can’t I think?” + +“The devil!” exclaimed Fouchard. “His luggage is missing. Whatever +that book contained we shall not know. That was Niels’s object--to +prevent the book from reaching us.” + +“But Conrad will know its contents. Connie, can’t you--can’t you +remember?” + +Again came a fearful mental struggle on the part of the sick man. +Beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead, and his breathing +became laboured. Wallace winced to see him so distressed. + +“Rest, old man,” he said. “It will all come in time. Don’t force it +now.” + +“I’m going over to Mont Rouge again,” said Fouchard. + +“What for?” + +“This book he mentions. If I can find his bag, there may be just a +chance that the volume is still inside it. It may be hours yet before +he is in a fit state to enlighten us, and time is precious.” + +“Take the Bentley then--it is faster. Watkins will drive it for you. +But it is a hundred to one that they have destroyed the book.” + +“I can’t afford to miss a chance.” + +Fouchard went off in a hurry. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI. + YOLANDE’S ORDEAL + +When Yolande left Wallace at the door of her room, her heart had +been full to overflowing. Out of all the stark horror and pain that +had filled her life for the past month, this great joy had emerged +like a beautiful butterfly from a dead chrysalis. A long time ago she +had persuaded herself that love of that sort was not for her. Her +father’s great bereavement had caused her to take stock of her life. +She knew that in her Fallières saw the image of his dead wife, and, +although he would have been the last man in the world to have demanded +sacrifices, she had arrived at a decision which she thought would help +to compensate him for his loss. + +Now Fate had taken affairs into her own hands. The man of destiny had +magically appeared in the almost monasterial precincts of the Château +Grammont. She had started by admiring him, and had ended by realising +that he had started a train of emotions that could never be stilled. + +She did not go to bed at once, for this pleasant revelation was such +as to render sleep impossible at the moment. Her lips still tingled +from Wallace’s last kiss, and she wanted that delicious sensation to +remain. In her was a lot of the child--the wondering child that stared +in awe at birds, flowers, and sunshine. She now stared at her own +reflection in the mirror, and wondered what it was exactly that had +caused Wallace to love her. Then she grew a little ashamed to realise +that she could be happy when her father’s murdered body had lain in +the grave for less than a month. + +“Still, I love him,” she thought. “I can’t help myself. Daddy +dear--you will understand.” + +She extracted a dozen hairpins, and let her abundant tresses fall in +rippling waves over her shoulders. As she brushed them she paused and +smiled, and then laughed softly. Life was all so wonderful, despite +black clouds and pangs of pain. Her eyes wandered to the vase of roses +which had dropped blood-red petals on the dressing-table. + +“Poor flowers,” she murmured, “to fade so soon!” + +As she lifted her eyes to the mirror, the brush dropped from her +fingers. There in the polished glass, grim and horrible against the +soft decorations of the room, loomed a shape that seemed to freeze the +very blood in her veins. It was the Thing she had seen as a child--the +hooded Monster of the château. Turning, she saw it face to +face--within two yards of her paralysed form. Her mouth opened to give +vent to a scream of terror, but her tongue seemed cloven to the roof +of her mouth, and no sound came. + +A long arm came from out of the dirty brown gown. She saw the fingers +and nails--horrid! Within the hood were two bloodshot eyes and a +hooked nose. A moment of unspeakable terror, and then she was caught +up as if she were a child. All power of resistance had gone, and that +pleasant rose-strewn world which she had enjoyed for so brief a spell +vanished like an evening afterglow. + +She was being borne swiftly along corridors--she knew not whither, for +her mind had become almost a complete blank. Then something closed +with a hollow thud and acted as a spur to her volition. She tried to +free her arms, but they were held as if by bonds of steel. For the +first time her voice functioned, and gave utterance to a wild shriek. + +“Don’t cry--I shall not harm you!” + +It was German and she had difficulty in understanding it, for the +voice which spoke the words was like no other voice she had ever +heard. If an ape could talk she thought it would be like this. + +“Let me go!” she gasped. + +To her surprise she was put down, but a hideous paw still retained her +left arm. She was in a long passage, cemented all over and illuminated +by electric light. It ran straight as an arrow to a door at the end. +Half-dragged, half-led, she reached this door. Her captor kicked it +open with his enormous boot, and she saw steps leading down into a +less well-lighted place. Lying about were all kinds of unusual +things--rusted canteens, helmets, some wooden cases, several strange +instruments. Yet another door confronted them. This bore a big +padlock, with the key in it. The hooded giant turned it, and they +entered a large chamber containing furniture of sorts. + +“There!” he grunted, and let her go. + +He gathered the folds of the cloak closely around him and stood +looking down at her, holding his queer garment close under his hooked +nose. + +“Why--why have you done this?” she pleaded. “Who are you?” + +“S-sh! I was just in time. It is safe here. They are a cunning lot up +there. But we shall beat them yet. Did you hear the firing just now?” + +The eyes were ablaze. She saw him slip his hand under the robe, and +uttered a low cry as he pulled out an old razor and slowly opened it. + +“Better than a gun,” he mumbled. “They do not fear guns. This makes no +noise. Quietly, quietly I move--in the dark, and they do not see.” + +He was stropping the blade of the razor over the palm of his hand with +rhythmic, rapid movements. She closed her eyes, expecting death, but +when she opened them again he had put the weapon away, and was hunting +for something in the corner. + +Piled there were dozens of wooden boxes, the majority of which were +open. She saw to her astonishment that these were filled with square, +empty tins which exuded a foul smell, and some of the boxes were +stencilled with the War Department mark of the German Government. It +was immediately clear that here was the chief means by which the +Monster had managed to live--field rations abandoned by the Germans in +their hasty retreat from the château. But now the store seemed +practically exhausted, for it was some minutes before her captor found +an unopened tin, and ripped the top off by pulling at the patent +contrivance with which it was provided. + +To her surprise the contents appeared to be quite fresh, but the +pervading odour of the piles of old tins was sufficient to sicken her. +He turned out the slab of meat on to a time-worn enamel plate, and +then went searching for a second plate, which he ultimately found. +Dividing the meat into equal portions he set one before her. When she +did not eat at once, he appeared to ascribe it to the fact that she +possessed no knife nor fork, and went searching among the pile of +oddments again, until he found what he wanted. With them he brought a +bottle of wine, already opened, and a large mug. + +“We eat now,” he mumbled. “It is safer down here. The wine is good. +You must drink the wine, Minna.” + +“I’m not Minna. You’re making a mistake. For pity’s sake let me +go--let me go!” + +The hysterical cry had a different effect upon him to anything she +imagined. He made a hideous noise with his mouth, and, dropping the +plate, brandished the knife before her. + +“No squealing! I won’t have it. Dying’s nothing. I’ve seen ’em die by +hundreds. We’ve got to hold on here--orders are to hold on.” Then, in +a lower voice: “There are those people prowling about--searching, +searching. But they’re not clever enough by a lot. I’ll get another of +’em to-night--maybe the young one with the blue eyes that drives so +fast, or that other swine with the hair. They’re working back there in +the mine--three of ’em and a woman. I’ve seen ’em-- Drink, Minna,” he +added piteously. “You’re trembling. Of course it’s hard for a woman, +and you should have stayed away.” + +She was trying to understand his rambling talk. It was now evident +that he was demented, and that in his present mood he meant her no +harm. On the contrary, he made affectionate gestures, which if +possible terrified her more than his threats. To pacify him and in +order to give her mind a chance to think clearly she made a pretence +to eat. + +While she did this he slunk away into the corner with a plate of food +and the remainder of the wine, eating with his back towards her. Some +of her courage was coming back after the initial shock. She realised +that only cool thinking and subtle acting could save her. She had had +no notion of the existence of this vault in which she sat, and +concluded that it must have been tunnelled out during the months when +the château was occupied by the Germans. The scattered array of army +accoutrement was sufficient to endorse this, but where it started and +where it ended were mysteries. + +But the biggest mystery was this enormous demented creature, who +apparently lived here. Where did he come from? Then she recalled his +remark about the “three men and a woman” working back in the “mine.” +That he was referring to Niels and his party was certain, and the news +was interesting, for it led her to the conclusion that the underground +passage must lead to the abandoned tin-mine in the forest. + +Soon he slouched back to her, carrying a pile of blankets. He spread +these out on the floor, and muttered to himself as he groped about +again. The object of his search proved to be a dirty pillow. This he +patted as if it were something alive, and laid it at the top of the +blankets. + +“Sleep time,” he said. + +“I’m not tired.” + +“Must sleep. I go up above.” + +It was what she wished him to do, for the clammy atmosphere of the +place seemed to choke her. With his departure the way might be open +for escape. She thought of Wallace and Fouchard within a few hundred +yards of her--anxiously searching---- + +“The young one to-night,” he said. “It makes one less--always one less +of the cursed brood.” + +He produced his awful razor and began to strop it again. A cold +shudder went down her spine, as she realised the menace to the man she +loved. + +“No!” she cried. + +He looked at her sternly. + +“I do it for you,” he said. “Pah! it is no time for sentiment. We must +fight.” + +“Why?” + +“That is a foolish question. Minna, you are tired. You do not know +what you are saying. Look at that! A new one I found.” He held up the +naked razor. “There’s the man Fouchard. He’s a smart one--but I’ll get +him too--perhaps at the same time. Sleep well, Minna--sleep well.” + +He pulled the obscuring hood even tighter, and walked with remarkable +agility towards the door through which they had entered the place. It +closed after him with a dull thud--like the fall of earth upon a +coffin. + +Immediately she rose to her feet, and gave her mind entirely up to the +question of escape. But on reaching the door she found it was bolted +from outside. It was so stoutly built that she had no hope of +battering it down. The only alternative was to try the other door, +which her captor had hinted led to the mine. + +Here she was more successful, for the only fastening was on the +inside. It was a heavy iron bolt, which called for all her strength to +withdraw it. When she swung the door open she found herself looking +into a dark opening tunnelled through the earth, and prevented from +collapse by a series of props. It was damp and chilly, and for a +moment she hesitated. But it was only necessary to think of that +terrifying creature who had just left on his murderous quest, to find +the courage to go on. + +She moved slowly down the narrow passage, and for a hundred yards it +ran dead straight. Looking behind her she could see the small oblong +of light made by the open door. But now the tunnel took a sharp +turn--beyond which was pitch blackness. With quaking heart she moved +forward, her feet sinking into mud at times. Moreover there were rats. +She could hear them scampering and squealing about her. + +The horror seemed less by contrast with the immediate past. Half +suffocated from lack of oxygen, she went on, feeling her way with her +hands. Now there were boards under her feet, and the sound of her +footsteps echoed weirdly. Then water was encountered. It increased in +depth until it was over her ankles. Still she waded on, with her mind +fixed inflexibly on her object. + +The passage seemed to widen, for no longer could she feel both walls +by stretching out her arms, and the air seemed less vitiated. How far +she had come she had no idea, but she recalled that the mine was over +a mile from the château--a mile of this! + +A little later a terrible doubt entered her mind. She had the feeling +that she was moving round in a circle. So strong was this impression +that she moved away from the crumbling wall, with the idea of finding +the opposite one. She took a dozen steps, but found nothing. Stumbling +over stones and sinking into mud, she moved quicker, but her groping +hands found no obstruction of any kind. She seemed to be +lost--entombed in the bowels of the earth. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII. + THE BOOK + +Suspense and anxiety were wearing away Wallace’s nerves. Despite +Fouchard’s belief that Yolande was still alive, he found himself +taking a pessimistic view. Fallières had been murdered, then Severin. +A similar attempt had been made upon Fouchard. Why should Yolande be +any more immune than these? + +In any case the alternative was equally appalling. He imagined her in +all the sweetness and charm of her youth--in the clutches of that +abysmal Monster. And here he was as helpless as a kitten to intervene. +He paced up and down the sick-room, utterly unable to concentrate his +mind on anything. Niels and the others now were reduced to negligible +proportions. They at least were human in their actions. + +He wondered where they were, what they were doing? Whether the +knowledge of Conrad’s yet unrevealed discovery had caused them to +abandon their quest? But again and again his mind reverted to the +dominating factor--the Monster. Seeing Conrad lying quiet with his +eyes closed, he decided to start investigations anew. Beyond the +château proper there were outbuildings--potting-sheds, hot-houses, +and so forth. No place was too trivial to be left unexplored. He found +the gardener, who had heard the news, and went with him to various +sheds and corners. But these places yielded no more information than +the others. + +“It is terrible, m’sieur,” said the man. “None of us is safe here. +That is no human shape that walks and slays. I remembered poor M’sieur +Severin saying the same thing a month ago, when the master was +murdered. And always the worst happens when the moon is at the full.” + +“There is nothing in that, André.” + +“There is much, m’sieur. I would not leave my wife alone at nights +when the moon is full--here.” + +Wallace did not feel in the mood to rebuke him for his superstition, +for at least he was basing his remark upon apparent facts. + +“She was so sweet,” mused the old gardener, his eyes filling with +tears. “Always a kind word for us poor folk, and a gift of clothing +when the winter came in. What shall we do now?” + +“You must not rush to conclusions, André. Your mistress may yet come +back.” + +But André had no such hope. To him the thing was sun-clear. The +Monster had made another sacrifice to the devil at the full moon. Even +if Wallace had been in the mood for argument it would have made no +difference. André was only saying what all the peasants were +whispering. + +“And I had gathered these figs for her,” he said, holding up a basket +full of purple fruit. “The first this season, m’sieur, and a splendid +lot. She loved figs.” + +“You have never seen this creature, André?” + +“God be praised--no! But if I should, m’sieur--if I should--then--” He +picked up a mattock and balanced it in his hand, while his kindly eyes +blazed with hate. “I am getting old, but my arms are yet strong.” + +“I believe you.” + +“And the m’sieur who had the accident--is he recovering?” + +“Yes.” + +“I am glad. M’sieur, I should tell you that I saw that woman Bertha +this morning.” + +“Bertha!” + +“She was in the forest alone, as I came towards the château. I always +liked her because she took such an interest in the garden. But somehow +I have felt that she was not what she pretended to be.” + +“You are right.” + +“She tried to hide when she saw me, but I let her see that it was too +late. Then she came to me, with a face that was very, very pale, and +begged me to say nothing about having seen her. I did not promise +that, for if the mistress had asked me about her I should have to tell +her. _Mon Dieu!_ I did not know then that she--she too had gone.” + +“Where did you see Bertha?” + +“It was between my cottage and the château. She was not doing +anything--just sitting on a fallen tree deep in thought.” + +“You did not see any men--strangers?” + +“No.” + +Wallace reflected on this as he walked into the château. It certainly +looked as if the gang had not yet given up all hope. They might have +heard what had happened to Conrad, and still believed it was possible +to make a coup before Conrad was able to reveal what he had +discovered. But Wallace’s interest in that direction had waned a +little. What matter hidden treasure when Yolande’s life was in +jeopardy--or worse? + +He found Conrad looking considerably better, and he greeted Wallace in +almost his normal style. The latter adjusted the bandage about his +head, for it had slipped and become a trifle loose. + +“Thanks, old man! I’m feeling heaps better. Any news?” + +“None.” + +“You’re worrying a lot, aren’t you?” + +“Yes. Connie, there’s something I want to tell you. It was only last +night that I told her--Yolande--what I had been aching to tell her +almost since I first met her.” + +“You--you mean you----” + +“I love her. That’s the plain truth.” He clenched his fists. “That +makes it all the more terrible. She was happy--I swear she was happier +than she has been for as long as I’ve known her. On top of that comes +this awful bolt. I’ve hunted everywhere--everywhere.” + +“I--I understand. Where is Fouchard?” + +“Gone to that place where I found you--Mont Rouge. He hopes to find +the book you mentioned. Your bag may be there--somewhere.” + +“The book! My mind is still all sixes and sevens. This concussion +business plays the weirdest tricks. It was a book written by a +man--what was his name?” + +“Steinbech.” + +“That’s it. I saw it somewhere--in a foreign bookseller’s shop in +Manchester.” + +“Good! You’re getting it now.” + +Conrad passed his hand across his brow several times. Then suddenly +his eyes lighted up, and he dragged himself into a sitting position. + +“I was reading it in the train--on my way to Arveyes. Those cunning +devils boarded the train at a wayside station. They doped me, and must +have got me out at the next station--pretended I was taken ill. But +the book! I was reading it when-- Great Scott! I remember. I slipped +it into my pocket!” + +“Eh?” + +“That’s it--I’m positive. I saw Niels’s ugly face in the corridor--and +Walther. I was expecting trouble, for the train was nearly empty. I +slipped-- Is that my coat over there?” + +But Wallace was already making for the garment. He felt in all the +pockets and produced a pipe, tobacco-pouch, and various oddments, but +there was no book. + +“Of course they have taken it,” he said gloomily. “No doubt they have +destroyed it by now. But I might get a copy in Paris and----” + +Conrad suddenly laughed and beckoned Wallace to him. From the things +which the latter held in his hands Conrad selected a travel-ticket +case bearing Cook’s name. + +“I’ll bet they overlooked this,” he said. “Before I was doped I amused +myself in the train by making a rough translation of several passages +from the book in question--passages to which I believe those figures +refer. Here we are--intact.” + +From the case he extracted three sheets of paper, covered with +somewhat shaky writing. + +“Do you remember the first reference number?” he asked. + +“Yes. Twenty-seven.” + +“This is it. I made a note of the page on the corner; because it +seemed obvious that the figures were page references. The volume was +entitled _The Grammont Salient_, and it was the title which arrested +my attention. Hear what our friend Steinbech has to say.” + +Wallace sat down very close to the bed, and Conrad read what was +written on the first sheet: + + + “_The pressure to the north and south of the château continued to + increase daily, and it soon became evident to General von Urel that + the château was in grave danger of being recaptured by the enemy, and + our line forced to retreat beyond the Forêt de Grammont. The château + was the key to the whole position, and it came to our knowledge that + the attacking forces had instructions to spare it as much as was + commensurate with safety. Foreseeing the danger that would follow a + sudden strong encircling movement, our commanding officer made plans + to fashion a line of retreat which could be resorted to in the event + of the château falling into the hands of the enemy. It was to take + the form of a tunnel leading from the vaults of the château to some + point farther back in the forest which would give access to our second + lines…_” + + +“By Jove!” exclaimed Wallace. “I am beginning to see light. But carry +on.” + +“There is no more here. The author goes off at a tangent. Unless I am +very much mistaken, the second figure was thirty-one. Is that so?” + +“Yes.” + +Conrad commenced to read the second excerpt: + + + “_It was necessary that the tunnel should run back for at least a + mile, and considerable difficulty was experienced in finding terrain + suitable for the work. The problem was solved by the discovery of an + old mine whose extensive workings ran in an easterly direction. These + would save the sappers at least a quarter of a mile of tunnelling. + This site was chosen as the best possible outlet, and our second line + was advanced a little in order to connect up with it. A company of + sappers was detailed for the work, and, while the enemy penetrated + deeper and deeper on our flanks, the work went on.… In spells of four + hours’ duration the sweating, mud-begrimed crews worked, and our + hearts beat easier as each day saw another long stretch added to the + last. All the time the guns were…_” + + +“Nothing more that is informative,” said Conrad, breaking off. “We saw +that old mine. Do you remember?” + +“Yes. But he doesn’t say how this tunnel is approached from the +château.” + +“We are coming to that. Our author is inclined to ramble a lot. My +next and last extract is from page thirty-six. That I know agrees with +the figure.” + +Wallace’s face became even more eager, for it was apparent that the +last extract was the most important of the three. Conrad cleared his +throat: + + + “_Pending the arrival of reinforcements, it was obvious that the + château must fall, and it was the General’s chief concern to keep the + existence of the tunnel secret, in order that it might be used again + in a similar emergency, for we had every reason to believe that the + withdrawal would be temporary. Means had to be devised to fashion an + entrance which would render discovery unlikely. The vault was roughly + comprised of five series of arches running east to west. The third + series was furnished with wine-bins for almost its entire length, and + the wall at the western extremity was similarly furnished. It was here + that the entrance was made. The last section of bins was temporarily + removed, and an opening excavated through the massive wall. By + replacing the bins and hingeing them vertically, it was a simple + matter to use them as a doorway. By skilful carpentry this door closed + of its own accord, and the wood lining at the back of the bins made + discovery extremely improbable. The metal hinges were on the inside + and invisible.… It was a comfort to feel that we had this safe line of + retreat, for every day…_” + + +“The rest is of no value to us. As you know, the château was +recaptured and held ever after. It has always been a mystery how the +garrison got safely away, but it is clear enough now.” + +“By Jove, and all this time--” Wallace’s hands opened and closed +spasmodically. “She’s there, Connie. I’ll stake my life on it. That’s +where the Monster hides himself away. It accounts for many things that +hitherto were difficult to explain. By some means he got to know of +that secret passage. The Book--he must have seen----” + +“No, that was not possible. The book has not been published more than +six months, while the Monster has been here for nearly two +years--according to Yolande. What is his game? What is he after?” + +“Niels, too. I’ll bet he is after the same thing.” + +“Everything points to that. It may be something left behind by the +Germans in their hurried retreat.” + +“They are welcome to it. It is Yolande that matters to me.” He rose, +and his face looked very grim. “I’m going there now, Connie.” + +“Wait until Fouchard----” + +“I couldn’t wait if my life depended on it. If Yolande is down there +she will be crazy with terror by now. But I fear----” + +Conrad knew what he feared, and from his own grim expression it was +evident that he too believed the worst. + +“He’s big and murderous, Ralph.” + +“All the more reason why I should not waste a moment. When Fouchard +comes, tell----” + +“If you go, I go,” said Conrad calmly. “Throw me over my pants and +boots!” + +“No. It is impossible!” + +“Get out! You’re a first-class fighter, laddie, but you are up against +something supernormal. I’m all right--for pistol-practice, anyway.” + +He was already sitting on the bed, and Wallace realised that argument +was useless, for Conrad could be as cantankerous as a mule when he +felt disposed, and he was in that state now. + +“You’ve got a second pistol in the car?” he asked. + +“Yes.” + +“Good!” + +“Oh, hang! I clean forgot--Fouchard has the car. You had better take +this one, and I’ll rely on a bludgeon. Fortunately I have an electric +torch in my pocket. Are you sure you are fit enough to engage in +this?” + +“It only required this bit of excitement to complete my cure. Hadn’t +we better leave a note for Fouchard?” + +“Good idea! Make it short!” + +A short message was left under the medicine bottle, telling Fouchard +where the entrance to the tunnel lay, and then the pair sallied forth +on their quest, Wallace arming himself with a hatchet en route. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII. + PRISONERS + +In the meantime, Yolande had suffered every terror that the human +mind could conceive. She had wandered round and round in the +blackness, stumbling against débris, falling into stagnant pools of +water, until exhaustion overcame her, and for a period she lost her +senses completely. + +She was awakened by a strange noise--a curious bellowing voice that +reverberated through the cavern. It was calling something--“Minna,” +she thought, and, as her brain became clearer, she realised with a +start of horror that her late captor had returned from his murderous +quest and was searching for her. The voice came nearer and nearer, and +then a soft glow split the darkness. She blinked at the relative +brilliance, and saw that she was near the side of a big excavation, +from which passages branched off in several directions. The light was +shining from an opening immediately opposite her. + +With a murmur of horror she slipped behind a mass of rock, and in fear +and trembling waited for the emergence of the seeker. Through a cleft +in the rock she saw him at last. He was holding up a lighted match, +the flickering flame of which threw a great awful shadow across the +propped wall behind him. + +“Minna! Minna!” + +It was a pitiful cry of despair, but it produced no sympathetic +feeling in her breast. Terrible as that place was, it was preferable +to the company of the insane demon who was now seeking her. She held +her breath in dreadful suspense as he came towards her. But ere he +reached the rock the match burnt down to his fingers and darkness +intervened. She heard the scratch of another match, and moved softly +round one side of the rock as he approached the other. His breath made +a rattling noise in his throat, and at one moment he was within three +yards of her. Then to her great relief he went off at a tangent, still +calling the name. + +Fainter and fainter grew the calls, until at last only a murmur was +borne back to her. Believing that he would return by the same passage, +she crept farther round the shielding rock, not daring to move away +lest she should be caught in some less favourable place. + +“Minna! Where are you, Minna?” + +She shuddered, and waited for a long time before the approaching light +began to throw vague shadows on the walls. Again she saw him--holding +his robe close against his face, as he always did. He did no more than +give a glance about him, before entering another gallery. + +Oh, night of horrors! How long it lasted she could not guess. As time +passed, his awful cries grew more and more despairing--like the wails +of a lost soul in Hades. Then, when she felt that her last ounce of +strength was being used up, she saw him make his way back through the +tunnel by which he had come, and the intense darkness reigned again. + +Followed another period of oblivion, in which Nature did something +towards balancing the tottering mind. But the old terrors were reborn +upon opening her eyes--to see absolutely nothing. There were two +alternatives for her. One was to go on in the hope of finding an +outlet, and the other was to risk going back to the vault, trusting +that he might not be there. She chose the former. + +Hungry and faint, she stumbled along a gallery, but it rapidly +descended, and soon she found deep water that she dared not enter. +Back again to the big chamber, with a hopeless feeling at her heart. +The next attempt was even more alarming, for there was a fall of earth +behind her, due to rotting beams and props. She found herself against +a blank wall, and had to burrow back through loose earth to escape +being buried alive. + +Reaching the big chamber, she sat down to recover her breath, and to +consider the next step. Her mind revolted at the idea of returning, +even if she could find the correct gallery; but now the second +alternative was death--madness and death in the inky blackness. And +but last night--was it last night?--she had been in Wallace’s arms, +believing in the goodness of God! + + * * * * * * * + +At that moment Wallace and Conrad were making through the vault +towards the secret door. They reached the end wall at the termination +of the third arcade, and Wallace gave a quick glance at the bins +referred to by the chronicler, and his eyes glinted as the neat hinges +came to view. + +“By Jove--he was right, Connie!” + +But Conrad had collapsed on a box, and was holding his head between +his hands. + +“I feel a bit--cheap,” he said. “It will pass off.” + +“You oughtn’t to have come. Jove, you’re as pale as death! It’s no +use, Connie--you have overdone it. You’ve got to come back with me.” + +“No. I’ll stick it.” + +It was evident that he was in no state to continue, and Wallace +gripped him firmly by the arm. + +“Come on. The atmosphere is deadly down here. I’ll see you to your +room, and run down again.” + +Conrad had little resistance left, and permitted himself to be led +back to the château. He felt better as soon as they emerged into +daylight. + +“I don’t like your going, Ralph,” he said. “It’s not a one-man job. +Take Watkins.” + +“He has gone with Fouchard.” + +“Then the gardener or Pierre.” + +“I should have to wet-nurse them. Don’t worry, old man, I shall win +through this all right. Give me that pistol.” + +He was off again in a couple of minutes, running at breakneck speed +down the steps and through the vault. He soon reached the end wall, +and hesitated for a second or two before putting his weight on the +wooden structure. It opened immediately--and without a sound. Before +him stretched a long straight passage approached by a dozen steep +steps. The electric illumination surprised him, until he recalled that +Watkins was always complaining about “leakage.” Here was the cause! + +He crept along the passage warily, expecting that a creature used to +inhabiting such a place would possess the keenest hearing. Reaching +the door, he examined the pistol to make sure it was loaded and in +working order. Then, seizing the handle of the door, he turned it +slowly and suddenly pushed. + +The inner room was empty save for the enormous collection of old army +gear. There were boxes piled in the corner with the German Government +mark stencilled on them, ancient tins of meat, rope, bayonets, and a +box of razors! But what took his attention were two enamel plates with +fragments of food upon them, lying close to the spread-out blankets. +His glance went to the door at the end of the chamber, and, gripping +the pistol tightly, he stole towards it. + +All his nerves became braced as he suddenly heard the sound of +approaching footsteps--a kind of shuffle. He moved away to the +wall--in the direction in which the door would swing. A blast of damp +air entered the room as the door swung open, and through it stepped +the strange creature he had prayed to meet face to face for so long. +The shoulders were enormous and hunched, and the tattered, frowsy, +brown robe was gripped round about the chin by a huge talon-like hand. + +“Halt!” + +The big form stood perfectly still, and from the orifice formed by the +cowl two ferocious eyes glared out. + +“Put up your hands! Put them up or I shall shoot!” + +Slowly the enormous arms went up, but Wallace was not at all prepared +for what followed. In a flash a powerful hand had snatched the exposed +electric light cable, and the light immediately failed. + +“Ha ha! Ha ha ha!” + +The demoniacal laughter filled the place. Wallace’s hair seemed to +rise perpendicularly. He fired, once, hoping that the flash would +reveal the exact position of the lunatic, but the brown robe was much +the same colour as the walls, and his shot went wide. + +“The little lamb comes to the slaughter! We shall still hold the +château, m’sieur. We shall still hold it! Ha ha ha!” + +Wallace could not follow a word of the guttural German, but he was +fully cognisant of what was intended. Again he fired, and the small +flash revealed--something. It was the proximity of the huge form, and +the flash of steel. Out went his left arm to save his throat, and by +wonderful luck his fingers fell upon a thick hairy wrist. +Simultaneously the pistol was knocked from his hand by a smashing blow +from his powerful opponent. It was a life and death struggle now. He +brought his right arm to bear upon the hand that held the razor, and +with a great effort managed to bend the hairy wrist until he heard the +razor clatter to the ground. The next instant his throat was gripped +tightly. + +This was more easily remedied. He swung his left arm, and drove it +straight into the creature’s stomach. There came a howl of pain, and +immediately the hands left his windpipe. Delay was fatal now, for he +did not possess the cat-like eyes of this maniac. He followed up with +smashing blows--most of which took effect. Then he tripped and fell, +but managed to bring his adversary down with him. + +Young and strong and in perfect condition as he was, he became +doubtful of the outcome of this appalling conflict. His blows became +feebler, and seemed to have little or no effect upon the growling +maniac. He hit out again where he thought the head should be, and the +blow fell upon a shoulder. But it served its purpose, for the big head +jerked back and came into violent contact with the sharp corner of a +metal box. There was a sound like a sigh--and no further resistance. + +Gasping, he rose to his feet, and flashed the torch upon the prone +form. What he saw horrified him. The cowl was back and the robe open. +The whole face came to view. But only above the mouth was it a face. +The lower part was so shattered it had ceased to be human. + +“Poor devil!” he muttered involuntarily. + +He put the cowl over the head, and closed the robe, shuddering as he +did so. With a coil of stout rope he bound the arms and legs firmly, +and then waited for the creature to recover consciousness, with the +object of compelling him to give him some information about Yolande. + +But, although he waited for a quarter of an hour, the eyes remained +closed and there was no movement of any kind. He decided to leave him +where he was and pursue his quest. He was soon in the narrow earth +gallery, with the torch dimly lighting the way, and it was not long +before he saw something that caused his heart to beat a higher note. +They were footprints--small footprints mingled with enormous ones. He +ran now--splashing mud all over his clothing. + +“Yolande!” + +He thought he heard a faint response, but realised it might well be +the echo of his own voice. + +“Yolande!” + +This time there was no doubt about it. The response was faint and in a +high-pitched voice, and it came from immediately ahead. The torch was +burning dimly, and he feared it might burn out ere he reached her. + +“Yolande! Yolande!” + +Then he saw a sight that was like heaven opening from the depths of +hell. A figure came to view at the end of the passage. It was muddy +and tattered, and the hair was down and wet. But it was Yolande +notwithstanding--and her arms went out as she saw him. + +“Ralph!” she said brokenly. + +He seized her in his arms and kissed the pallid lips--the eyes and wet +hair of her. + +“Thank God! Oh, thank God!” + +“I knew you would come. I knew it!” + +“You are all right?” + +“Yes--yes. But I’m hungry--so hungry. Where is he? You--you haven’t +killed him?” + +“No. He nearly killed me. I’ve got him safely tied up back there.” + +“And you came--alone?” + +“I had to. Fouchard was away when we discovered the secret passage. +I’ve lived in hell for nearly twelve hours. But it’s going to be all +right now. My dear, you don’t know----” + +She smiled wanly at his inarticulateness. Weak and exhausted as she +was, she _did_ know, and she clung to him as if she feared that at any +moment he might vanish into thin air and leave her again to the +hideous nightmares. + +“You--you overpowered him?” she asked incredulously. + +“By luck. Of course he is a lunatic.” + +“Yes, mad--quite mad. He calls me Minna--mistaking me for someone +else. I owe my life to that--and to you.” + +“Let us get back.” + +“I hate to see him again. I can’t help remembering that he murdered my +dear father. What--what are you going to do with him?” + +“Hand him over to Fouchard. It is Conrad who deserves all the praise. +But for him----” + +She pressed his hand, and they went slowly forward towards the lair of +the Monster. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX. + THE FUSE + +Wallace was totally unprepared for the reception that awaited him. +He had left the Monster unconscious, and bound as securely as it was +possible to bind anything. The door had been left half open, and it +remained so now. The torch was at its last gasp, and he had to shake +it to produce about as much illumination as a glow-worm would give. On +the threshold of the door it gave out completely. + +“I’ve got some matches,” he whispered. “Possibly I can join up the +broken electric cable.” + +He produced a box and struck a match on it. Immediately the flame +appeared there was a slight sound, followed by a dull thud, a groan +and hideous laughter. + +“Ralph!” cried Yolande. “What----” + +The place became brilliantly illuminated, and her startled eyes saw +Wallace lying on the floor, and the huge, monkish form standing over +him with a slab of wood in his hand. The look of triumph changed to +one of pleased surprise when he saw Yolande. + +“Minna!” he rasped. “You’ve come back!” + +“Don’t touch me--you brute!” she screamed. + +His puzzled eyes blazed again as they fell upon the inert form of +Wallace. His feeling in that direction was fairly obvious. With an +inarticulate cry he produced his razor. She flew at him and seized his +arm. + +“No--no!” + +“You are foolish, Minna. We take no prisoners. We have no room for +them--and orders are orders.” + +She realised that the only possible way to prevent another appalling +murder was to humour him. Love gave the fillip to her imagination, and +transformed her from a terror-stricken woman to a capable actress. + +“Not yet,” she said. “He is a leader; we must keep him for a while. +Later, perhaps--but not now--not now.” + +“The swine is dangerous.” + +“Oh, no--he is unconscious.” + +“Then I will bind him--as he did me. He thinks himself clever, but I +am cleverer. Thought I was stunned. Ha! Ha!” + +He handled the rope like an expert, and very soon Wallace was sitting +in the corner, helpless. Recovering from the blow on the head, he +opened his eyes and bit his lip to realise the state of affairs. He +was about to talk to Yolande, but she put her finger to her lips. + +“Minna, you must be hungry. It was foolish to wander in the galleries. +We will eat,” said the maniac. + +He slouched across the chamber, glaring horribly at Wallace as he +passed him. The removal of a cloth exposed a cold fowl, taken +undoubtedly from the pantry during the night. He was about to carve it +when there was a low booming sound from a distance, and the earth +shook. The awful eyes opened wide, and the chicken was pushed away. + +“Guns! At last they come--at last!” + +He became as active as a cat, running from door to door and bolting +them with a wild laugh. Then he carried case after case across the +room and built two barricades. From a corner he took a Mauser rifle +and commenced to clean it. + +“To the last man,” he said. “Orders are orders.” + +Yolande watched him insert a clip of cartridges into the rifle, with +his face twisted in unearthly excitement. That done, he laid the rifle +down, and dug out some more gear from under a tarpaulin. She turned +her face to Wallace and saw his lips frame the word “Unload.” Waiting +until the lunatic was carrying a curious keg with his back towards +her, she quickly opened the breach of the rifle and extracted the +cartridges. Her next intention was to free Wallace, but the crazy +creature gave her no opportunity. + +“Be brave, Minna,” he said. “All is prepared. They shall never have +the château.” He patted the rifle. “Eight lives there, but I have a +little surprise--after that. Hee! Hee! It will make them jump. Look!” + +He suddenly produced a six-feet length of tubular stuff that looked +like thick string. Yolande had no idea what it was, but Wallace knew, +and his eyes bulged from his head. + +“A fuse!” + +“Silence--you!” snarled the lunatic. “I should have cut your throat +but for Minna. She hates bloodshed.” + +“What is that?” queried Yolande. + +“The little ally that will beat the enemy. But you need not worry, +Minna. There will be no pain. Poof!--and then nothing--just nothing!” + +He laughed devilishly, and, running across to the big keg, fitted the +end of the fuse into it. + +“Melinite!” he said. “I saved it for them. Ha! Ha!” + +Her face blanched as she realised his intention. But she thought there +was no immediate danger. By some means or other she had to outwit +him--to set Wallace free and get out of this evil den. + +“I’m thirsty,” she complained. “Get me some water, please.” + +“Yes--yes. We have wine.” + +He managed to find a bottle, but it was empty. + +“I’ll get another. Minna must not go thirsty.” + +She thought he was going, but he changed his mind at the last moment +and shook his head. + +“They are outside. It would not do.” + +“No one is there.” + +“I know better. My ears are keen. But you can trust me, Minna. They +shall never take us alive.” + +He snatched up the rifle, and looked, not towards the door that led +through the vaults, but at the other exit. Yolande started, for she +suddenly heard noises in that direction. The lunatic grinned, and put +his finger to his lips. + +“I told you so,” he whispered hoarsely. “But they do not know--the +poor fools!” + +There came a banging on the door, followed by heavier noises, as if a +battering-ram was being used. But the stout bolt still held, although +the timbers creaked. A brief silence, and then a tremendous thud. The +bolt snapped and the door bulged inward, bringing down several boxes +from the barricade. Another violent blow forced a passage, and into +the light stepped Niels, followed by Walther and Heinrich, with Bertha +bringing up the rear. The lunatic crouched low and brought the barrel +of the rifle to bear upon Niels. + +“Come!” he said. “Come to death--swine!” + +“Look out, Niels!” + +The warning cry came from Heinrich, and Niels, who was temporarily +surprised by the presence of Wallace and Yolande, skipped aside. A +click came from the rifle. + +“It’s not loaded,” cried Yolande. “But take care.” + +The crazy man had opened the breach, and realised in a second that +something was wrong, though he did not appear to suspect Yolande. +Quickly he struck a match and lighted the end of the fuse. Then he +stood up and swung the rifle by the barrel. Yolande ran to put her +foot on the travelling light, but he pushed her backwards. + +“We are doomed,” she cried. “If----” + +It was then that Niels showed his mettle. He made a lightning leap at +the big, obstructing form, and missed the murderous swing of the +rifle. + +“Come, Heinrich!” he called. + +Before Heinrich and Walther could get across, the fuse had burnt close +to the big canister of explosive. Yolande was awakened from her mental +paralysis. She leapt by the struggling forms and pulled the fuse away +from the deadly explosive. When she turned round the three male +intruders were engaged in a fearful struggle with the madman. Twice +Walther had the rope round the enormous arms, and twice the fiend +broke loose again, dealing frightful blows with hands and feet. In the +background was Bertha, as pallid as death. + +“Got him!” cried Heinrich. “Hold on!” + +The rope was twisted round the arms and body of the conquered +creature, and Walther held it from behind, whilst the other two men +held an arm each above the binding. + +“March!” said Niels. + +“It’s--terrible!” almost sobbed Bertha. + +“Quick--through the passage!” + +They made their exit with their captive uttering awful cries and +struggling fruitlessly. The door slammed, and Yolande sat down and +held her head. + +“Yolande!” + +She suddenly remembered Wallace, and with a gasp cut his bonds with a +knife. + +“Queer!” he muttered. + +“I don’t understand. What was that?” + +Now the opposite door was being attacked noisily, and in a few seconds +the keen blade of an axe smote through the panel. + +“Fouchard!” said Wallace. “It must be.” + +He ran to the pile of boxes, and dragged them away after unbolting the +door. Fouchard entered with Conrad. + +“I had to come,” said Conrad. “What----” + +His eyes fell on Yolande, and he gripped her hand warmly. + +“What has happened here?” grunted Fouchard. + +“They’ve got him--just now.” + +“Who?” + +“Niels and the others. They came in in the nick of time. But now----” + +Fouchard ran to the other door and shone a torch down the passage. + +“Does that lead to the mine?” he snapped. + +“It must.” + +“Then we can get them by going the other way. By Jove, the whole lot +in one swoop! Come on!” + +The whole party then moved up the passage and on through the vault. +Fouchard bolted and barred the door at that end, and set a gendarme to +guard it. + +“I must go with Fouchard,” whispered Wallace to Yolande. “You must +rest and refresh yourself. I will be back soon.” + +“I’m coming too,” said Conrad. “I’m not going to miss this--if it +kills me.” + +The Bentley was just outside the main entrance, and the three men +entered it, Wallace taking the wheel. In less than two minutes they +halted close to the old mine. Like hounds they went through the trees +until they stood on the site of the excavation. + +“It is impossible for them to have arrived,” said Fouchard. “I may be +glad of your help, gentlemen.” + +“Suppose they fight?” asked Conrad. + +“God help them if they do,” grunted Fouchard. “I shall shoot the first +man who shows a gun.” + +“There’s a lot about this affair that puzzles me,” said Wallace. “That +madman with the razor would insist upon calling Yolande Minna. It was +only that delusion on his part which saved her from her father’s +fate.” + +“Was it he who tied you up?” + +“Yes. He was going to slit my throat when Yolande brought her queer +influence to bear on him. We had a narrow shave. He had a big canister +of high explosive, and meant to blow the château sky-high. The +unexpected intervention of Niels prevented that.” + +“S-sh!” warned Fouchard. “I don’t want them to hear you.” + +“But they must know we are here,” argued Conrad. “It is obvious we +should attempt to hold them up. I’ll warrant----” + +“You forget that they left Wallace tied up, and they probably knew I +was away, and that you were laid up in bed--where you ought to be at +this moment. It was their last chance, and they took it. They may +expect opposition from Wallace--but there are three of them, not to +mention Bertha.” + +“And the Monster--is he a confederate?” + +“You wouldn’t have said so if you saw the way they handled him,” put +in Wallace. “And he did his best to brain Niels with the butt end of a +rifle. Whatever it is they all want, they are at loggerheads. That +poor devil is hopelessly mad. I don’t believe he wants +anything--except Minna. He talked rubbish all the time I was there, +and acted as if----” + +“S-sh!” hissed Fouchard. “I heard a noise.” + +They crouched behind a heap of debris close to the exit, and very soon +a figure emerged. It was Niels, and he looked around cautiously. +Fouchard, who was nearest, stepped forward and levelled his pistol. + +“One word and I shoot,” he said. + +Niels’s reply was to kick the pistol from Fouchard’s hand and perform +a disappearing trick that was worthy of Devant. + +“_Sacré!_” + +“He has gone to warn the others,” said Wallace. “What do we do next?” + +Fouchard picked up his pistol ignominously. + +“The little rat!” he grunted. “Unless we ferret them out they will +stay there until dark, and make my task more difficult. I’m not going +to wait. I can’t afford to.” + +“You’re going down?” + +“Yes.” + +“I’m with you,” said Wallace. “Connie, hadn’t you better wait for us +at----” + +“Oh, no, you don’t,” retorted Conrad. “I’m going to be in at the +finish. We shall need a light down there.” + +“My pocket-torch has burnt out, but I have a good Helleson lamp in the +car. I’ll get it.” + +He was back in a few minutes, with the lamp in his hand. Warily they +entered the mine. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX. + THE COUNT + +The powerful lamp gave splendid illumination, and revealed to the +trio a veritable network of galleries, many of which were now +impassable. Fortunately the ground was damp, and innumerable +footprints marked the trail of Niels’s gang. The marks led to an old +working that apparently had been recently cleared. + +“They have been working here for days,” whispered Fouchard. +“Look--here are marks of blasting. Presumably they gave up all hope of +reaching the tunnel by the château entrance, and devoted all their +energies to forcing a passage this way.” + +“Suppose they break for the vault?” asked Conrad. + +“They may, but I doubt it. Naturally they will conclude I have a guard +there. The gendarme could hold that door against a hundred attackers.” + +“Anyway, they seem to have retreated.” + +“Looking for a hiding-place.” + +“The passage divides here.” + +“There must be footprints.” + +“It is hard rock underneath.” + +“Then wait--while I try the right passage. Keep the lamp; I’ll use +matches.” + +Fouchard went off, and was gone about two minutes. When he returned he +nodded, and pointed along the passage which he had just explored. + +“This way!” + +“Good!” + +The passage was narrow, and they moved along it in single file. Fifty +yards farther on the rock floor gave way to soft earth, and there were +the impressions of boots everywhere. Wallace shone the lamp ahead. + +“Looks like a big cavern.” + +“Probably.” + +“_Zut!_” said Fouchard suddenly. “I swear I saw a form ahead. Take +care!” + +Flattened against the damp wall, they moved forward with extreme +caution, and in a few minutes emerged into a wide excavation--the +place where Yolande had spent her dreadful night. Wallace used the +lamplight as a searchlight, and at last its bright beam fell on the +people they sought. They were immediately opposite, close to the +passage which led back to the château. + +“Niels!” snapped Fouchard. “The game is up. I warn you to come +quietly.” + +Niels turned his grim countenance towards his companions. Bertha +seemed to nod her head, but Walther and Heinrich looked very +undecided. Between them was the madman, glaring into the light like +some sub-human creature of the underworld. + +“You hear!” said Fouchard. “The passage is strongly guarded at both +ends. It will avail you nothing to offer resistance. Throw your +firearms over here.” + +All the while he was approaching closer. Wallace passed the lamp to +Conrad and produced his pistol for moral effect. Niels squirmed +visibly. + +“He’s right,” said Walther. “It’s no use; we’ve failed.” + +Niels nodded dejectedly and pitched a pistol across to Fouchard. +Walther and Heinrich followed suit a moment later. Fouchard sighed as +he picked them up. + +“Now,” he said, “we will investi----” + +It was then the unexpected happened. The huge robed form shook itself +free of the two men. Wallace stared in amazement to see the bonds that +held him snap as if they were string. A startled cry came from Bertha +as the madman leaped at the group. + +“Look out!” yelled Walther. “He is insane.” + +There was scarcely need to apprise them of this. A great hand went +under the robe, and a razor flashed in the light. Heinrich was the +nearest victim, and at him flew the awful form. + +“Walther!” + +Walther cleared a rock, but he was two yards away when the razor +hovered over Heinrich’s throat, and a horrible noise came from the +intending assassin. It was then that Fouchard proved his skill. With +Walther almost covering the madman he fired twice. There came a gurgle +that echoed weirdly. The razor missed its mark by a few inches, and +the big brown form crumpled up like a concertina. + +“Got him!” + +“My God!” cried Niels brokenly, and ran to the still form. + +“He’s dead--dead!” said Bertha. + +“Stand away!” roared Fouchard. + +But they did not heed him in the least. Conrad, focusing the light on +the scene, was amazed to see the savage Niels fondling the huge, dirty +hand of the dead man. + +“Max!” he muttered. “Max!” + +Fouchard had not yet got it clear. He took control and forced them to +stand away. On going to remove the robe he was stopped by Niels. + +“Don’t interfere!” he snapped. + +“But----” + +Fouchard pulled back the hood and then opened the gown at the front. A +faded uniform came to view--the uniform of a major of the Bavarian +Regiment. But it was not that which caused him to utter a cry of +horror. He had seen what Wallace had already seen. He pulled down the +hood immediately. + +“Poor devil!” + +“Yes--a tragedy, m’sieur,” said Bertha. + +“Now for the rest,” said Fouchard. “What is your little game down +here?” + +“Isn’t it obvious, Fouchard?” asked Conrad quietly. + +“Nothing is obvious.” He glared at Niels. “What is there here that you +want?” + +“Nothing at all.” + +“Don’t try to----” + +“It’s true,” said Bertha. “Don’t you realise yet that the thing we +came to get--no longer exists?” + +“You mean--that?” + +Fouchard pointed to the poor, dead figure, and Bertha inclined her +head. + +“Then who is he? What is he to you?” + +“He was my brother,” said Niels. + +“So! And what is your relationship to this woman?” + +“I am his sister-in-law,” said Bertha. “I am the Baroness von +Kauffman. His brother Max married my sister.” + +“Was her name Minna?” asked Wallace. + +“Yes. How did you guess?” + +“He mistook Mademoiselle Fallières for her. It was that delusion +which saved her life.” + +“We will get the details later,” said Fouchard. “In the meantime you +are all under arrest for aiding and abetting. March on. We will remove +the corpse later.” + + +Yolande heard the news with mingled amazement and relief. She was yet +tired from her adventure, but anxious to hear all the details. +Fouchard, now exceedingly pleased with himself, paraded his prisoners +in the biggest reception-room. They were all looking dejected and +indifferent to whatever Fouchard might do. Bertha smiled wanly at +Yolande as soon as she saw her. + +“We have fought and lost,” she said. “I am sorry, mademoiselle. There +was no other course.” + +“I am yet in the dark about many points,” said Yolande. “Fouchard has +told me that your one object in coming here was to get this man Max +away.” + +“Yes, that is so. We had no other object in mind.” + +“But how did he get here? Why did he come here?” + +“He has been here ever since this château was occupied by German +troops. He was terribly wounded by a shell, and must have crept back +into the tunnel. He recovered, but only to be a lunatic. My poor +sister heard that he was killed--blown to pieces. She went to America, +and died there soon after.” + +“But how did you come to know that he was not dead, but actually +living in this place?” + +“It is the strangest story. Six months ago I was visited by an +ex-officer of my brother-in-law’s regiment. He was a very clever +electrician, and among his hobbies was wireless telegraphy. He had +installed a small experimental transmitting set, and was carrying out +experiments on low wavelengths.” + +“My father also had a set,” said Yolande. + +“That is part of the story. This officer came to me in a perturbed and +puzzled state of mind. He asked me if I believed in spirit +communications. I told him I had never seriously considered the +matter. He then showed me his log-book, and among his notes were some +strange, broken messages purporting to come from Max, and addressed to +Minna--his dead wife. Some of them were quite unintelligible, but +others referred to small incidents in the past which made it appear as +if it were really Max who was communicating.” + +“But how did these messages come?” asked Fouchard. + +“In the Morse code--and in German. I found myself utterly unable to +accept his theory that a spirit was manifesting in that way. But, on +the other hand, I believed Max to be dead, and it was difficult to +explain the phenomena. I told Niels, but he too was sceptical. Time +passed, and then something happened which caused us considerable +excitement. A message came to the experimenter. It said, ‘Am holding +the devils, Minna. They shall never win the Château Grammont.’ That +was remarkable, because I knew that Max had been in the château when +the French made their successful attack. I conferred with Niels, and +ultimately decided to come to Grammont to see if there was anything in +the fantastic story. I stayed in Arveyes, and there I heard that the +château was haunted--that a big form had been seen by several +persons. About the same time mademoiselle advertised for a +parlourmaid. I got the situation by giving false references.” + +“What was your object then?” asked Fouchard. + +“I was puzzled. I wanted to see and hear more. One night I got +definite proof that my brother-in-law was alive. I caught a glimpse of +him in this place, and I knew at once that he was insane. I wrote to +Niels begging him to come to me, and he came almost by return. We +talked the matter over, and came to the conclusion that we would tell +the story to Monsieur Fallières, and so clear up the mystery. But +before this could happen murder took place. That altered everything.” + +“How?” snapped Fouchard. + +“It put my poor brother in a perilous position,” answered Niels. “What +sort of justice would he have got in a French civil court?” + +“The same as anyone else,” retorted Fouchard. “Are you suggesting that +we hang lunatics?” + +“No. But what would have been the procedure in Max’s case? He would be +certified as insane, and on that account would not be permitted to +plead. He would have been sent to a criminal lunatic asylum for the +rest of his days.” + +“Well?” + +“It was that thought which settled a momentary indecision. We wanted +to get him home--to his own country. In Germany he might have had +every comfort, every attention. Surely these should not be denied a +man because a grave injury has caused him to commit deeds which in his +normal mind he would have shuddered at?” + +“And that is what caused you to refuse my offer?” asked Yolande. + +“Yes. It was tempting, but I realised that you were speaking in +ignorance. Even had you been disposed to act so generously when you +had learned the truth, there was M’sieur Fouchard to be considered. +Fouchard had his duty to do. He was bound to act on it and to make an +arrest.” + +Fouchard inclined his head at this. + +“But under medical treatment--an operation perhaps--your brother might +have recovered his reason.” + +“Walther agrees that that was possible. But what then?” + +“He would have a fair trial, and in the circumstances I cannot imagine +anything other than a favourable verdict.” + +“And repatriation?” + +Fouchard compressed his lips, and Niels shook his head. + +“It is inconceivable,” he added. “My brother was doomed from the +moment when his crazy brain led him to commit that terrible deed. They +would never repatriate him, and you know it, sir. The alternative was +a life-long incarceration. We had weighed all that, and, reluctant as +we were, we had to go on. Realising the big obstacles which we were up +against, I wrote to my cousin Walther and his brother Heinrich. +Heinrich arrived first, and brought with him some valuable +information. It was contained in a volume written by a man named +Steinbech----” + +“We know all about that,” said Wallace. + +“With those clues in our hands we decided to make an attempt at +once--on that night when you discovered us in the vaults.” + +“I remember,” growled Fouchard. + +“Well, we failed, as you know, and after that we never got another +chance, until in desperation we decided to tackle the tunnel from the +other end--the mine. We had abandoned that before because there had +been a big fall of rock since the tunnel was made, and the work of +getting through it was considerable. Again we were too late, and here +is the result.” + +“Hm! A queer story,” mused Fouchard. “And when you eventually got him +he did not recognise you?” + +“No. He seemed to be obsessed with the idea that the war was still on, +and that he had been delegated to hold the château against the enemy. +He knew none of us. We were all enemies to him. He scarcely recalled +his own name. The one name he remembered well was Minna. He loved his +poor wife dearly.” + +“I know that,” said Yolande softly. “It is obvious that he must have +used my father’s wireless set to send those confused messages. It was +dismantled only a few months ago.” + +“But how did he get access to the house?” asked Wallace. “So far as I +can see there is no outlet from the vaults except by the main door, +which was always locked.” + +“That’s still a mystery,” said Fouchard, stroking his chin. + +“No longer a mystery,” put in Yolande. “I discovered the means only a +short time ago.” + +Fouchard stared at her, as did the rest. + +“When I came back to that awful chamber with--Mr. Wallace, the Monster +had somehow obtained a fowl. I knew at once that he had stolen it from +the pantry, for since Severin’s death I have been compelled to look +after some of the domestic affairs of the house. Before I went to bed +last night I had occasion to go into the pantry, and the fowl was +there. I closed the door behind me. It locks of its own accord.” + +“But how----” + +“It is so simple, and yet we all overlooked it. The pantry has a +wine-lift, which goes down into the cellar. It is large enough for a +big man to enter, and can be worked from inside by simply pulling a +rope.” + +Fouchard bit his lip at this. + +“Severin ought to have told me,” he said. + +“Poor Severin had no imagination.” + +“But we ought to have noticed it in the cellar,” said Wallace. + +“It is not easily seen, and I was scarcely aware of its existence,” +replied Yolande. “One might go into the pantry a dozen times without +seeing it.” + +But Fouchard was not easily consoled, for he prided himself upon his +powers of observation. + +“The lift sheds a great deal of new light,” said Wallace. “It must +have been the means by which he got away on that evening when we saw +him in the turret. Obviously he escaped through that old disused +staircase which leads to the servants’ quarters.” + +“Also the body of--” commenced Conrad, and stopped as he saw Yolande +wince. + +“But the pantry door would be locked,” objected Fouchard. + +“It has a Yale lock and can be opened from the inside,” informed +Yolande. “By slipping the catch he could wander at large and always +have a means of escape. That old staircase comes out immediately +opposite the pantry door.” + +“Yes, you have forged the last link,” agreed Fouchard. + +“And it accounts for his being able to exist,” said Conrad. “No doubt +he took food from the pantry. Severin admitted that provisions were +missing from time to time.” + +“But he did not depend upon the pantry for food,” said Yolande. “The +chamber where he lived was littered with boxes of field-rations which +must have been left by the Germans in their hurried retreat. It is +significant that his visits to the upper part of the house grew more +frequent as his main supply of food gave out. But why--why did he hide +my poor father’s body, and yet leave Severin where we found him?” + +“In the worst cases of lunacy one finds recurrent phases of lucidity,” +said Walther. “I imagine that something like that happened immediately +the first crime was committed. Realising what he had done, he +performed that astounding feat along the ivy with his victim. It was +not so with Severin.” He looked at Fouchard. “The next move is yours, +m’sieur.” + +“It is for mademoiselle to decide. You have all attempted to defeat +the ends of justice, and, in addition, certain personal injuries have +been inflicted.” + +Yolande gazed at Conrad, but Conrad was rapidly recovering and was +singularly free from spite. + +“Leave me out of it, please,” he begged. “I have to return to England +in a day or two. I am quite willing to regard my little injury as the +result of a complete accident.” + +“And you--Ralph?” + +Conrad stared at this form of address, and Wallace blushed a trifle. + +“I have nothing to say,” he said, “except that in similar +circumstances I think I should have acted just as the Baroness and her +friends have.” + +“Hm!” said Fouchard. + +“In that case I do not feel disposed to go any further in the matter,” +said Yolande. “All that remains for us all is to try to forget it.” + +“Perhaps you are right,” agreed Fouchard. “Still, I shall experience +some little difficulty in forgetting a certain bump on my head.” + +Niels stepped forward with a smile on his face--the first smile that +any of them had seen for a long time. + +“I tender you my sincere apologies, m’sieur,” he said. “It was a +brutal and sudden attack that no man could possibly have foreseen. I +had you at a mean disadvantage. I should regard it as an honour to +shake hands with the famous Fouchard.” + +That settled Fouchard, who never could resist flattery. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI. + CONCLUSION + +It was summer again in the beautiful Forêt de Grammont when a +gleaming, re-painted Bentley car drew up at the lodge of the château, +and drew old Pierre from his after-_déjeuner_ siesta. He rubbed his +eyes as he beheld the ringer of the bell. + +“Hullo, Pierre. _Il fait beau temps!_” + +“Monsieur Wallace! And mademoiselle!” + +Yolande came from behind, and shook Pierre’s large, flabby hand with a +smile on her beautiful face. + +“Not mademoiselle any longer--Madame Wallace!” + +“_Hélas!_ And you have come to see the old home?” + +“Of course we have. I hope the Government is treating you well, +Pierre, since they took the château off my hands.” + +“Excellently. I am to have a pension in ten years. We have lots of +visitors--English, Americans, all sorts. I show them the rooms where +the Monster walked, and some are generous--some are not. But the +tunnel has been bricked up.” + +“Perhaps that is as well.” + +“Mademoiselle--pardon--madame would like the key?” + +“Yes.” + +“And shall I----” + +“No. Finish your sleep, Pierre. We should be able to find our way +about.” + +She and her husband of three months’ standing walked arm in arm +towards the well-remembered entrance. Nothing was changed, and Wallace +found himself reviving every little incident that had taken place +there a year before. + +“Look, that is where I first saw the Monster, Yolande,” he said, +pointing to the ivy-clad tower. + +“What wonderful things have happened since then!” + +“Yes. Do you regret them?” + +“No. It was a wrench giving up the château to a Government +department, but, after all, it is a thing that should be enjoyed by +the many and not reserved to the few.” + +They entered the château and wandered through the rooms, which were +excellently kept. There was a visitors’ book in the hall, containing +many names, from all parts of the world. + +“Why, look at that!” exclaimed Wallace suddenly. + +It was the signature of Baroness von Kauffman, in the firm handwriting +of Bertha, and dated but a few days before. + +“So she has been lured back--like us.” + +“A fine woman.” + +“Yes. I always liked her. I often wonder whether she was not just a +little bit in love with Conrad.” + +Wallace laughed mysteriously. + +“What is the matter?” + +“Shall I tell you a secret?” + +“If you can trust me.” + +“Well, Connie is spending his holiday at Baden-Baden next month.” + +“I don’t see----” + +“The Baroness lives there.” + +“Ralph--you don’t mean----” + +“I know nothing much. But I happen to have seen various envelopes +bearing the Baden-Baden postmark, and Connie seems to treat the rest +of the correspondence as negligible when those letters arrive.” + +“Oh, I hope something----” + +“Yolande! You wish to see the confirmed bachelor beaten and done for?” + +“Why not? He needs someone to look after him. Someone with a will, +like Bertha has, to compel him to buy warmer vests when the winter +comes.” + +He laughed in his complete happiness, and they ultimately left the +château and entered the garden. It was here that Yolande found her +childhood again. All the bright, sweet friends of her youth were still +there, even to the pair of robins, now growing old. + +“If you hadn’t already given me a beautiful garden, Ralph, I should +sit down and cry,” she said. “Many times I have sat here as a girl and +wondered whether there was anyone who would come out of the big, busy +world and--and take me-- Then came terror and heartache, and, when +everything seemed smashed in ruin, the miracle happened. But I’ve had +enough happiness in six months to make up for all the horror of the +past.” + +He caught her hand and kissed her, while she pinned a fresh young rose +to his coat. + +“And there is another thing you have to remember,” she said. “When you +retire from business--which is, of course, only another name for +playing about with turbines--we are coming to France to enjoy our +second childhood.” + +“That is a promise.” + +“_La belle France!_” + +“You are incurably French. I’ve given you an English name, an English +house, English everything, and you still remain as completely French +as if you had never left Grammont.” + +“_La, la!_ And I have given you French coffee, French vermouth, French +caresses, and you are just as English as when I met you in the Forêt +de Grammont. But I shall convert you yet.” + +“No, you won’t. And I shan’t convert you. Besides, I don’t want to. +I’m satisfied.” + +“So am I.” + +“Then what are we quarrelling about?” + +“Just nothing.” + +They laughed together--ringing laughter that went echoing all over the +garden. It was in strange contrast to the gloom that had once pervaded +that place, and it was proof enough that Yolande had climbed out of +the pit of horror where he had first found her. But when she visited +her father’s grave the vivacious eyes became wet with tears. + +“I can’t help it,” she said. “It was a terrible end.” + +“It makes no difference to death. It is rest and peace.” + +“And the château is preserved for ever. He would be glad to know +that. Look, the roses that I planted are blooming--the sort he loved +most.” + +They went back via the terrace, and lingered there for a few moments +to enjoy the scene which it commanded. The furniture had been removed, +but on one of the stone slabs there was something scratched. Wallace +went to look at it, but she held him back. + +“Don’t. I’m ashamed.” + +“What do you mean?” + +He craned his neck forward, and saw his name in small letters, faintly +engraved. + +“So that’s the secret!” + +“I did it a week after you came here. Isn’t it shameful?” + +“That’s nothing,” he replied. “I carved yours on an old tree in the +garden on the second day. Can you beat that?” + +“Yes,” she retorted. “I can. I knew all about it on the following +night, for you had the next room to mine, and you talk in your +sleep--not only talk, but shout.” + +“Yolande! Well!” + +“Now come,” she begged. “I want to be moving--south. I want to smell +the sea--the real blue, sunlit southern sea. Get me there as quickly +as you can.” + +They bade farewell to old Pierre, and left him blinking his eyes at a +thousand-franc note--the first he had ever seen. Through the +tree-lined roads of France the Bentley slipped, bringing nearer the +magic Côte d’Azur, with all its beauty. The road was good, the sun +was high, and the driver crazy with happiness. Yolande suddenly had an +inspiration, and put her head close to him. + +“Ralph!” + +“Eh?” + +“If there’s anything in pre-natal influence, I should say that +Clementina Esmeralda Ralph Augustus Wallace will most certainly be a +racing motorist. Can you beat that?” + +He gasped for a moment, and then nodded. + +“I can.” + +“Ralph!” + +“I knew it.” + +“But I haven’t said a word----” + +“No, but you talk in your sleep.” + +She sat pretending to be peeved, but his left hand moved across and +gripped hers firmly. With a sigh of inexpressible happiness she raised +it to her lips. + + THE END + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + +Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. debris/débris, finger +nails/finger-nails, etc.) have been preserved. + +Alterations to the text: + +Add chapter numbering. + +Punctuation: fix a few quotation mark pairings. + +[Chapter IV] + +Change (“If this _strang_ thing is to be brought to bay) to _strange_. + +[Chapter VIII] + +(letter signature) change _Neils_ to _Niels_. + +[Chapter IX] + +“If I could help you I would, but I am _pledegd_ to secrecy” to +_pledged_. + +[Chapter XI] + +“She would have offered you a rose if I hadn’t been _persent_” to +_present_. + +“never failed to tingle whenever Bertha _loomd_ in sight” to _loomed_. + +[Chapter XII] + +“I’d have no difficulty in convicting _Hienrich_ and Niels” to +_Heinrich_. + +“the people at _Arveys_ have been busy in that direction” to +_Arveyes_. + +[Chapter XIII] + +(“But _Mademoisele_ Fallières!” ejaculated Bertha) to _Mademoiselle_. + +[Chapter XXI] + +“was not the type of man to take any _unnecassary_ risk” to +_unnecessary_. + +[Chapter XXIII] + +(“Do you know a village _callet_ Basset?”) to _called_. + +“_The_ reached the kitchen and heard Walther dealing” to _They_. + +[Chapter XXV] + +(“Why was _Fallière’s_ body found here--and Severin’s?” to +_Fallières’s_. + +[Chapter XXIX] + +“The warning cry came from _Hienrich_, and Niels” to _Heinrich_. + +[Chapter XXX] + +“All the while he was _appoaching_ closer” to _approaching_. + + [End of text] + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78776 *** diff --git a/78776-h/78776-h.htm b/78776-h/78776-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6fe714 --- /dev/null +++ b/78776-h/78776-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15984 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The monster of Grammont | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +/* Headers and Divisions */ + h1, h2, h3, h4 {margin:4em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} + +/* General */ + + body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} + + p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:1em;} + .center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + .noindent {text-indent:0em;} + .spacer {margin:0.5em 0em 0.5em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + + .toc_l {font-variant:small-caps; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + .rt1 {margin:0em 1em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} + + .chap_sub {font-size:80%;} + .font80 {font-size:80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + +/* special formatting */ + + blockquote {margin:1em 2em 1em 2em;} + + .mt1 {margin-top:1em;} + .mt4 {margin-top:4em;} + +</style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78776 ***</div> + + +<h1> +THE MONSTER<br> +OF GRAMMONT +</h1> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="font80">BY</span><br> +GEORGE GOODCHILD +</p> + +<p class="center mt4"> +THE MYSTERY LEAGUE, INC.<br> +<span class="font80">PUBLISHERS 1930 NEW YORK</span> +</p> + + +<h2> +[COPYRIGHT] +</h2> + +<p class="center"> +COPYRIGHT, 1930, BY<br> +THE MYSTERY LEAGUE, Inc.<br> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br> +FIRST EDITION +</p> + + +<h2> +CONTENTS +</h2> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch01">I. Ghosts</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch02">II. A Delay</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch03">III. The Monster</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch04">IV. Fouchard</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch05">V. Baffled</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch06">VI. The Unexpected</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch07">VII. Bertha</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch08">VIII. Suspense</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch09">IX. Counterplot</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch10">X. Theories</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch11">XI. The Crimson Trail</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch12">XII. The Second Victim</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch13">XIII. The Conspirators</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch14">XIV. A Night of Terror</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch15">XV. The Coup</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch16">XVI. Bondage</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch17">XVII. Wallace Escapes</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch18">XVIII. Wallace Has a Little Luck</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch19">XIX. Blind Alleys</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch20">XX. Bertha Is Scared</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch21">XXI. A Proposal</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch22">XXII. The Meeting</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch23">XXIII. A Call for Help</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch24">XXIV. Check!</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch25">XXV. The Final Blow</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch26">XXVI. Yolande’s Ordeal</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch27">XXVII. The Book</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch28">XXVIII. Prisoners</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch29">XXIX. The Fuse</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch30">XXX. The Count</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch31">XXXI. Conclusion</a> +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch01"> +CHAPTER I.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">GHOSTS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> bronzed, healthy-looking driver of the Bentley car put his foot +harder on the accelerator pedal, and averted his head to hear the +crackle of the exhaust as the sleek automobile sped along the +undulating tree-lined Route Nationale. For the past three hours that +white, arrow-like road had held his eyes, and he was “killing” it as +fast as safety would permit, for main routes at the best were inclined +to be monotonous. +</p> + +<p> +While the speedometer needle wavered between the sixties and seventies +his travelling companion was endeavouring to find their exact position +on a large-scale French road map, a feat of considerable difficulty +for which the execrable road surface was largely responsible. +</p> + +<p> +“Steady, old man!” he said, as the wheels struck a deep cassis, +causing a jarring of springs and a slight dither in the steering. +“This isn’t Brooklands.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s about as unlovely. We’ll cut off at the next turning.” +</p> + +<p> +Speed was reduced as bad <i>pavé</i> was encountered on the outskirts of a +straggling village. It was exactly like a dozen others passed through +that morning—two rows of tall, bare houses, with lime-washed walls +and green shutters, a café, a comestible, and a pump surrounded by +ample troughs, at which a few women were engaged in washing clothes. +At the far end were two garages, each provided with a red petrol-pump +bearing the familiar word “<i>Essence</i>,” the price in the one case being +ten francs, and in the other ten francs fifty centimes, for what was +precisely the same brand of fuel. +</p> + +<p> +“Wonderful folk!” said the driver. +</p> + +<p> +The car almost leaped the last ten yards of appalling <i>pavé</i>, and +seemed to purr with satisfaction as the tyres found a better surface. +On either hand sunlit fields stretched away to a hazy horizon, and +here and there blue-bloused peasants were making the first hay. But +periodically war-scars came to view, for it was the summer of 1920, +and but a bare two years since the Germans made their last retreat +that was to end five years of unmitigated horror. +</p> + +<p> +The elder man folded up his map and placed it beside him. He was of +smaller build than his young companion, and, judging from his face, of +a more complaisant temperament. But, like the driver, he bore all the +signs of abundant health and vitality. The pair had brought the car +across the Channel a few days before, with the object of making a +month’s tour of north and mid-France. No route had been laid down, and +more often than not they slept in towns they had had no intention of +visiting. +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph!” +</p> + +<p> +The driver averted his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Turn left beyond the bridge. There’s a road that appears to go right +through the forest.” +</p> + +<p> +The car slowed down, and the acute bend was taken. Soon it was evident +that the change of direction was justified. The first blush of summer +lay over everything, and the dust-laden trees of the Route Nationale +gave place to the rich, rain-washed hues of early June. The serpentine +road became a joy, for it held surprises at every bend and pleaded for +less speed and more appreciation. +</p> + +<p> +Ralph Wallace banished his tense expression, and displayed his strong, +white teeth in a smile. Speed-hog as he was, he was not so abandoned +as not to be able to appreciate the natural joys of the quiet and +refulgent by-ways. Lately he had had a surfeit of speed—a luxury that +the straight roads of France offer to young “bloods” who own a +ninety-miles-an-hour car. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me a cigarette, Connie,” he begged. +</p> + +<p> +Julian Conrad, the passenger, handed over the required article and +lighted it in Wallace’s mouth, for the Bentley was now ambling along +at a cycle pace. As Conrad turned his head one might have noticed a +thin, straight scar extending from the corner of the left eye to the +edge of the firm mouth. But the surgeon had made a neat job of it, and +the sun had browned his skin to such an extent that this memento of +the war could only be seen at close range. +</p> + +<p> +The delightful road began to ascend, and on the right of it the land +slipped away gradually, forming a verdant valley in which were +scattered a few farms. Here and there were cattle, but in small +numbers. It was chickens that predominated. Every farm seemed to +thrive on poultry, and what cattle there were appeared to be thin and +out of condition. After half an hour’s pleasant amble the road reached +the summit of the long incline. A gap in the immediate timber brought +to view one of the pleasantest vistas yet encountered. A mile or so in +the distance was a beautiful château—a dream of architectural +beauty, gleaming white amid the many shades of green, built on the +edge of a great chasm. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop a moment,” said Conrad, laying his hand on that of his +companion’s. “By Jove, I had no idea we were in this district.” +</p> + +<p> +“What district?” +</p> + +<p> +“The Marne. I know that place quite well—I ought to.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean the château?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—the Château Grammont. I must have mentioned it to you at some +time or other.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may have, but I have the rottenest memory for names.” +</p> + +<p> +The eyes of Conrad were filled with a new light. A short time ago he +had been dreaming lazily—drinking in the natural beauties of the +country in subconscious fashion. Now into his mind had come something +stirring—vital. The lips became compressed for a few seconds. Then +they opened again, and a little sigh escaped him, for the memories +that were revived by the fair sight before him were very mixed. +Wallace looked at him interrogatively. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s just the same as it was when I saw it—four years ago. Dropping +on it like this, in June sunlight, with the birds singing, stirs one a +bit.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I spent what I think was the happiest month of my life there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, the war?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—the war. We had been knocked to pieces twenty miles farther +north. Jove, that was a ruddy business. I was laid out at the end of +it. No wound of any sort—just sheer fatigue. I was on the way to an +absolute breakdown when they sent me down for a rest. I had no idea I +was going to a place like that. There was a score or so of us in +all—slight wounds and knock-outs. We each had a month in which to +recuperate—and we did. It was quite a voluntary business. The owner +of the château was a Monsieur Fallières. I think he had a title, but +at any rate he never used it. He had been rendered unfit for further +service in the earlier campaign, and gave up half his wonderful home +to the cause. Everything was gratis and <i>ad lib</i>. We played tennis, +bowls, badminton, rode fine horses in the Forêt de Grammont— It was +all done with such grace, too. We were just members of a house-party, +and madame and her daughters were as charming as if we had known them +for half a century.” +</p> + +<p> +“They still lived there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. There were two little girls of seven and eight, and another, +named Yolande, who I think was sixteen. She was at school somewhere on +the coast, but was home on holiday at that period. We used to pet her +a lot. I hope we didn’t spoil her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect you did—if she was pretty.” +</p> + +<p> +“She was pretty enough—not the conventional prettiness, either. I +often thought I would like to paint her. Well, thank God their fine +old home was saved to them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did the line never reach as far as that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Later, I believe; but all the pressure was taken off this sector. I +think I read that the Germans held the château for some months, and +then the line was pushed back. You were lucky to have missed that +bloody business, Ralph.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are making me wonder whether I was lucky,” said Wallace, with a +laugh. “Another six months and I should have had a taste of it. I +remember I nearly wept with regret when the Armistice found me doing +foot-drill and ‘physical jerks’ on Salisbury Plain.” +</p> + +<p> +“No book that will ever be written can convey to you half the misery, +horror, and suffering. These little diversions gain all their beauty +by comparison with the background against which they stand. Well, here +we are again in God’s peace and sunshine. Men must be mad ever to give +them up.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve often told you you have missed your vocation in life, Conrad,” +said Wallace. “You ought to have entered the Church. Of course, I +quite agree with you, but the fact is that most young men feel they +ought to be allowed to act like savages before they adopt the only +possible point of view towards legalised murder. I’m getting a bit +hungry, aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m past that stage. I remember there is a fair-sized town about +twenty kilometres farther on. I’ll consult the map. This road ought to +lead somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace got the car moving again. They were presumably still in the +Forêt de Grammont, and the road narrowed until there was not room for +another vehicle to pass; but, since they had met nothing for the past +hour, Wallace did not worry greatly about this. His mind was divided +equally between the beautiful woodland scenery and the behaviour of +the car. It was a recent acquisition, and pleased him immensely, for +he had an engineering mind. He loved to feel the smooth output of +power, the easy and complete control. A squeak or the slightest +foreign mechanical noise would have brought him flat on his back, or +executing a half somersault to solve the mystery. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t find the road at all,” muttered Conrad. “That’s the worst of +French maps—always unreliable.” +</p> + +<p> +At that moment two riders came to view. One was a man of about fifty +and the other a pretty woman who bore so striking a resemblance to the +man that Wallace concluded immediately she was his daughter. They were +coming in the direction of the car, and it was obvious that there was +not sufficient room for them to pass with safety. Wallace promptly put +his near-side wheels into the ditch and waited, which act of roadside +courtesy was acknowledged when the riders got level with the car. +Wallace was admiring the well-groomed mounts, and the poise of the +riders, when he realised that the man had stopped and was gazing +intently at Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“And how does Major Conrad find France after this long absence?” he +asked with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +Conrad dropped the map in his surprise, and then slowly his eyes +brightened with recognition. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Fallières!” he exclaimed. “I should not have recognised you +had you not spoken. This is a most pleasant surprise. Until a few +minutes ago I had no idea we were within twenty miles of the Château +Grammont. How do you do, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +He stood up and grasped the extended hand with obvious pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“You remember Yolande?” asked Fallières. +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande!” Conrad blushed a little as he removed his hat and bowed +towards the beautiful girl. “Surely this cannot be the young lady who +used to——” +</p> + +<p> +“—who used to tease you so much,” she added with a smile. “Yes, I +remember you now quite well, but all the credit is due to my father, +who never forgets a face.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, it is a very happy meeting. I have so often recalled the +enjoyable time I spent at the château when things were so different. +But allow me to introduce my friend—Mr. Ralph Wallace. A few minutes +ago I was speaking of you.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace shook hands from the driver’s seat. He could now understand +what Conrad had meant about Yolande’s beauty not being conventional. +She was dark, like her father, and a trifle pallid, but her features +were perfectly moulded and well balanced. She sat her horse as a woman +does who spends most of her days in the saddle, and smiled at him with +her eyes rather than with her mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you aware that your car is headed for an almost impassable +marsh?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t. As a matter of fact, we are exploring. Mr. Conrad is +supposed to be the pilot, but I am afraid he is not thoroughly +qualified. I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that we are trespassing.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are on private property. The public road through the Forêt is +three miles back. But, if you like to risk the marsh, you can join the +other road farther on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t let my daughter tempt you to such a disastrous act, monsieur,” +put in Fallières. “No car can cross the marsh. Besides, I am going to +insist that you and my old friend join us at <i>déjeuner</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” put in Yolande. “We are only ten minutes from the +château, and you must lunch somewhere, mustn’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we may consider the matter settled,” said Fallières. “If you +will drive the car another hundred yards you will find a place where +you can turn it. We will lead the way.” +</p> + +<p> +The horses were walked past, and a few minutes later the car was +following them through the leafy glade. Conrad was still chuckling at +the coincidence. +</p> + +<p> +“He has changed a lot,” he said. “Looks more than ten years older. He +did not mention madame. I wonder——” +</p> + +<p> +“So that is Yolande!” mused Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I shouldn’t have known her. By Jove, her beauty hasn’t deserted +her; but she looks rather pensive. In the old days she was like +quicksilver—so animated. I flatter myself I taught her how to +pronounce an English ‘r.’ ” +</p> + +<p> +The château came to view through a long avenue. It was of Norman +architecture, and situated on the crest of a sharp rise, from where it +commanded a fine view of the country round about. Its four white +turrets gleamed in the sunlight, and as they approached it the massive +surrounding walls commanded their attention. Its size was deceptive +seen from a distance, for there was plenty of space about it, which +had the effect of dwarfing its enormous dimensions. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite a feudal affair,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, one of the finest in France. Fallières is enormously rich.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the quaint building at the end?” +</p> + +<p> +“The chapel. Jove, how familiar it all seems! Yes, the old place has +suffered a bit. I can see signs of renovation. The chapel appears to +have had a new roof.” +</p> + +<p> +Arrived outside the main entrance, the horses were taken by a groom. +</p> + +<p> +“Welcome to the Château Grammont,” said Fallières to Wallace. “There +is a garage near the stables, but perhaps you would like to leave the +car here. It is quite shady.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace agreed, and he and Conrad went to remove some of the dust they +had gathered. The place had been brought up to date in every respect. +A power plant supplied electricity, and there were modern fittings +everywhere, and a plentiful supply of hot water. Notwithstanding, +there was nothing incongruous. All that was necessarily modern was +well concealed. It was evident that Fallières took a pride in this +magnificent place—a veritable storehouse for the antiquarian, and a +realm sacred to the soul of an architect. Young Wallace, brought up in +an atmosphere far different, felt just a trifle overawed. +</p> + +<p> +“The place must have a hundred rooms,” he ejaculated. “Hold me, +Conrad, or I’ll lose myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is enormous, but Fallières is doing good work in using his wealth +to preserve this for the nation. Look, we used to play tennis out +there. That’s a fine court—the fastest I’ve ever played on.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace moistened his lips. At sports he excelled, having got his blue +at Oxford some years before. He was reckoned to be one of the best +middle-weight amateur boxers in the kingdom, and had to his credit the +hundred yards and the high-jump records of his college. +</p> + +<p> +Lunch proved to be a most pleasant affair. It was inevitable that +Fallières should revive the past, and, although Wallace had thought +he had heard quite enough about the war, he found himself listening to +the conversation with considerable interest, for, in this very room +where they now sat, German officers had eaten their fill, and there +was little doubt that many a dreadful deed had been perpetrated within +those surrounding walls. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it is all past, father,” said Yolande. “And we have suffered +less than some.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—less than some. One life in a family of five,” he said sadly. +“We did not expect it, for we had so long been immune. There were +rumours, but I disregarded them. Then, in the middle of the night, +there was terrible gunfire, and shells fell quite near. Retreating +troops passed, and we were told to flee at once. The line was broken +and the Germans were sweeping forward.… Yolande was away at school, +but I and my other two children and their dear mother left by car; the +servants as best they could. The roads were under fire and the car +broke down. In that terrible ordeal we lost the dearest woman in the +world——” +</p> + +<p> +“Madame!” murmured Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded and bent his head, but in an instant he raised it again, +with the light of pride in his fine eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“There are things we must accept, messieurs. Shall we take coffee on +the terrace? It affords a splendid view of the valley.” +</p> + +<p> +They adjourned to the wide terrace at the back of the château. From +there the land fell away abruptly, and the château was heavily +buttressed against a possible landslide. Across the verdant valley +wound a small river, entering the dark forest half a mile farther on. +It was a sight most pleasing to the eye, and it was almost impossible +to imagine that the ghastly game of war had ever been played there. +</p> + +<p> +“May I see your car?” enquired Yolande of Wallace. “I am very +interested in cars, and we see few English ones here.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace was on his feet in an instant. Though modest of his own +achievements, he was enormously proud of the car. They left Conrad and +Fallières taking a second liqueur. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch02"> +CHAPTER II.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A DELAY</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Wallace</span> had invariably found that the task of explaining any sort of +mechanism to a woman was a most thankless one. He would not have been +at all surprised if the beautiful Yolande had asked him what all the +dials on the dash were for, and he did not for a moment expect her to +evince any interest in what lay under the bonnet of the car. Pleased +as he was to show her his toy, it was not his sole reason for leaving +Conrad and Fallières talking about the past. +</p> + +<p> +Yolande herself was the other reason. All through the excellent +luncheon he had found his gaze drawn to the oval, dark face of the +girl, and it had set him wondering what was the cause of her obvious +discomposure. The long eyelashes had a habit of coming down and almost +obscuring the soft, romantic eyes, and she would sit motionless for +quite a few seconds, until some remark of her father’s awakened her to +consciousness of her immediate surroundings. Notwithstanding, he felt +that she was not naturally pensive and pallid. There had been moments +when the eyes moved quickly, flashing like rare jewels in the sunlight +that streamed through the casement windows. Certainly this girl was +arrestive and fascinating in many respects. +</p> + +<p> +She now stood a few yards from the car, admiring its rakish lines. +Then, to his positive amazement, she put quite a technical question +about the engine, and begged him to lift the bonnet. Her interest and +enthusiasm were called forth immediately, and she fired off questions, +as rapidly as a machine-gun, about torque, engine-balance, +compression, and what not. Wallace, who already knew his “baby,” from +back axle to radiator, found the keenest enjoyment in explaining every +detail. +</p> + +<p> +“Beautiful!” she said. “I think I should like to have one like it. Our +present car is quite a good one, but too big for me. The chauffeur is +away with it now, taking my two sisters to school. There was an +epidemic, and they were sent home.” +</p> + +<p> +“What make is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“A Hispano-Suiza.” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t find anything much better than that.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I want something of my own; something to get chummy—that’s the +word—something to get chummy with.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your command of English is wonderful.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have had so many chances of practising it. During the war we had +hundreds of English officers here. One could not help learning +English.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose not. But, tell me, aren’t you a little lonely here—so far +from any big city?” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment she did not answer, but turned her eyes upwards to where +the time-worn château walls towered in the blue. Then she smiled as a +young bird fluttered from the ivy that climbed over the western +turret. +</p> + +<p> +“At times—perhaps,” she murmured. “My father has not yet quite +recovered from the loss of my—my mother, and I do not go about so +much as I might. I think I remind him of my mother, and it helps in a +way. Of course, we have house-parties at times. At least, we did have +until— Tell me, is Mr. Conrad just a friend or a relative?” +</p> + +<p> +“A friend—a kind of guardian, though there isn’t a great difference +in our ages—now. It was curious how we came together. My father was a +colonel in the artillery, and Conrad got a commission in the same +corps. For two years they were always together, and got to be very +real friends. I was at school in England at the time. Then a chance +shell killed my father. Connie—I always call him that—Connie was +with him when he died. Of course, he knew all about me, and he told my +father not to worry on my account, and promised to be a sort of +guardian to me. Well, he has been all that and more. Fortunately my +father was a man of means, so there was never any economic problem, +but Connie was always on hand to get me out of any scrape, and I’ve +been in a few. He’s just the best kind of fellow that ever was—a +man’s man, if you understand. Connie never preached. When at times I +used to play the fool, Connie used to make me feel pretty small, and +all in about six words. I remember once I acted like a goat. I knew it +all the time, and yet I refused to admit it and pretty nearly +alienated myself completely. Lord, Connie came up to the scratch at +the last moment. He got my thoughts absolutely. ‘You’re fuming, my +lad, because you know I know what an ass you are,’ he said. ‘You’re +aching to take it out of me. Well, come on!’ Before I knew what had +happened he had hit me in the face and was framing up in pugilistic +fashion. I fancied myself at that game, and his blow hurt. I went for +him good and well. For half an hour we knocked each other about, but I +couldn’t get anything over him, and all the while I was having it +knocked into me what an ungrateful little pup I was. We’ve never +quarrelled since. I say, forgive me telling you all this. It must be +awfully boring.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very interesting,” she said. “I think I like him more than ever +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“No one could help it,” he replied simply. “He’s an engineer by +profession—turbines—and I’m part of the concern. I really yearned to +be a professional racing motorist, but Connie wouldn’t hear of it. No +doubt he was wise.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure he was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway, we get on awfully well, and have many a ding-dong battle at +tennis or golf. He’s pretty good at all games.” +</p> + +<p> +She measured him up with her eyes as if to intimate that he, too, +ought to shine in that respect, in which she was not wrong. Then they +wandered into the flower-garden, where they met Fallières and Conrad. +Time passed all too quickly, and they were surprised to find it was +four o’clock. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall certainly have to leave if we are to make Rheims this +evening,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“It is not a good road,” put in Yolande. “For fifty miles it is full +of pot-holes.” +</p> + +<p> +They ultimately entered the car, and then a peculiar thing happened. +The engine refused to start. Wallace stroked his chin and looked at +the various controls. +</p> + +<p> +“Plenty of petrol?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Half a tank. That’s curious. I’ve never known her jib before.” +</p> + +<p> +He jumped out and lifted the bonnet. So far as he could see there was +nothing wrong, but when he tested the plugs he discovered that no +current was passing. For half an hour he tinkered about with leads and +plugs—all in vain. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m beaten!” he ejaculated. “She has run faultlessly for five +thousand miles, and then suddenly goes on strike. I suppose there is +no garage within reasonable distance?” +</p> + +<p> +“None,” replied Fallières. “I doubt if it is possible to get anything +done to-night. There is really no reliable garage between here and +Rheims. I could telephone there, but I doubt if a man would come +before the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll fix it somehow,” said Wallace desperately. “Take a walk, Connie, +and leave it to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think a cup of tea might be more acceptable,” suggested Yolande. “I +will get some prepared. When you have solved your problem, Mr. +Wallace, you will find us on the terrace.” +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later Wallace joined the tea-party, looking very +disgusted. The car had beaten him. Nothing would induce it to start, +and he felt his ignominy greatly. +</p> + +<p> +“You are all hot and bothered,” said Yolande. “Drink this tea and +accept the inevitable. What does it matter? You may as well stay the +night here as in Rheims.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” agreed her father. “I will telephone to Rheims and get a +good electrician here early to-morrow morning. May we call that +settled?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is extremely kind of you,” replied Conrad. “I do hope it will not +inconvenience you.” +</p> + +<p> +“It will afford us considerable pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace echoed his friend’s thanks, and later went to help some of the +servants push the car into the garage. He was not greatly disappointed +in the change of plan, but the mysterious trouble with the car got on +his nerves. It was his baby. Coming downstairs before dinner, he +strolled into the garden trying to think of a possible solution. His +meandering brought him within sight of the garage. The door was slid +back, and he caught a glimpse of a light skirt near the car. +</p> + +<p> +Considerably puzzled, he walked closer, his footsteps being muffled by +the velvety lawn. Now the owner of the skirt came clearly to view. It +was Yolande, and she was engaged in tinkering with the switchbox. +Before his eyes she changed two wires on their terminals and put the +cover back. The next moment she turned and saw him. +</p> + +<p> +“Putting the car right?” he asked with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I—” Her face went crimson with embarrassment, as she realised +from his expression that he correctly divined what she had been up to. +“There—is nothing wrong,” she stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing wrong!” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean—” She faced him boldly. “I mean that I put it wrong in order +to prevent your going.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand why. It is extremely pleasant here, but, all the +same——” +</p> + +<p> +“I will explain. Come yonder.” +</p> + +<p> +She led him to a seat in a sheltered nook on the northern side of the +château, and for some moments gazed pensively at the falling shadows. +It was clear to him that, despite her outward control, she was +agitated, but about what he could not imagine. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks calm here, does it not?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Delightful.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is all a delusion. I am terribly afraid—and so is my father. Yet +we are not frank with each other. He believes that I am ignorant +of—of certain occurrences, and, out of love for me, he wants to keep +me ignorant. But I know. I discovered years ago. The servants talk +among themselves, too. No one could live here and remain ignorant.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it that frightens you?” +</p> + +<p> +“A form—a horrid, gaunt form that periodically seems to get active. +It makes strange noises—noises not human.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace felt like smiling, for he had not an ounce of superstition in +his make-up. It was the sort of story one might expect to hear of an +ancient château enclosed in a dense forest, and yet Yolande was not +the type of woman one would imagine to be hysterical. +</p> + +<p> +“Has anyone ever seen this—apparition?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” +</p> + +<p> +“Severin the butler—and I.” +</p> + +<p> +“You! When?” +</p> + +<p> +“When I first left school—nearly two years ago. I never locked the +door of my room, because I was always afraid of fire. One night I was +awakened from sleep by a sound. The moonlight was streaming through +the window, and illumined by it was a horrid shape. It was standing +erect, not two yards from my bed, and nearly reached the ceiling. It +was like a monk, with a kind of cowl over the head. All I saw except +the cowl and gown were two awful eyes, and hands like talons. Ugh!” +</p> + +<p> +She shuddered at the memory of this incident, and seemed to get a +little closer to him, for darkness was coming down. +</p> + +<p> +“What happened then?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I tried to scream, but could not utter a sound. Paralysed with +fright, I watched the thing turn and disappear through the door.” +</p> + +<p> +“It wasn’t imagination?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—no!” +</p> + +<p> +“And you did not tell your father?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I thought he would laugh at me. But on another occasion I heard +queer noises in the corridor. I slipped out of bed and unlocked my +door. I saw my father, looking pale, creeping along the corridor with +a pistol in his hand. As soon as he saw me he hid the pistol and tried +to behave as if nothing was amiss. Many servants leave us. Severin +does not say why, but he is staunch and does not want this evil thing +made public gossip.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has the château a reputation for being haunted? I mean, is it a +tradition?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. The first Marquis of Grammont was murdered in his bed +centuries ago. There was a volume of records in the library, and some +old manuscripts concerning the history of the château, but the +Germans stole them before they left, as they did many other things.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did you come here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Shortly before the war. The old Grammont family became defunct, and +the estate came into the market. My father inherited great wealth from +my grandfather, who had a big ironworks in Lorraine. He wanted to +preserve this lovely old place. We heard about its being haunted, but +paid no attention to it. Often we heard strange noises, but it is only +of recent date that our lives have been made unbearable. My poor +father is ageing under the strain, but he is courageous and will not +give up his stewardship.” +</p> + +<p> +“It all sounds so fantastic that one scarcely knows what to say,” he +mused. “I have never come into contact with such a thing before, and +you must pardon my scepticism.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is natural that you should think me imaginative, but what I am +telling you is true. Have you noticed anything strange about the +appointments of the château?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t say that I have.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there are no mirrors in any of the reception-rooms. As fast as +we put them in they are smashed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Smashed!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. We noticed it first after the Germans had been here. Every +mirror was smashed and the pieces taken away. We thought the enemy +troops had done it to provide themselves with shaving mirrors, but, +when they were replaced, one by one they were smashed again.” +</p> + +<p> +“How strange!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then there is something worse. Things are befouled with muck and mud, +as if some monster hated bright and beautiful things. Severin usually +manages to remove these signs early in the morning, but I discovered +it. We had a big house-party last autumn. It ended abruptly. I—I +can’t go into details. It is too disgusting.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is the strangest story I have ever heard. You do not think there +is any danger to—to life or limb?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. If this monster is of the supernatural, it might not +have the power to harm us, but——” +</p> + +<p> +“You have doubts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, less than a year ago a servant on the estate was found dead in +the forest. There was no mark of violence on his body, and it was +concluded that he died from heart failure, but close to where the body +was found there was a huge footprint—a monstrous thing nearly +fourteen inches long. The police were puzzled, but they could find no +other. The verdict was inevitable, but I am sure that poor man saw the +Monster face to face and died from shock.” +</p> + +<p> +She narrated this in a voice that was quite calm, and it would have +given the biggest sceptic pause. But the healthy-minded Wallace still +found it difficult to accept these alleged facts. +</p> + +<p> +“You have never seen this form—this monster—since that night years +ago?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not until to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“To-day!” +</p> + +<p> +“I caught a glimpse of it this morning in the northern gallery just +before we went riding—the gowned and hooded figure, and the two +baleful eyes. I seemed to read in them a warning. It’s no use, I can’t +explain, but I feel—I know—that some tragedy is pending. When we met +you so unexpectedly and you came here, I could not resist the +temptation to do—what I did. You are two strong men—and I wanted +help. There are other men in the servants’ hall, but they are far +away, and they are faint-hearted, except Severin. And he is growing +old now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. I wish we were in a position to aid you. It would give me the +greatest joy in the world to fall up against this queer person. But +that sort of thing never happens when you want it. Don’t you think it +would be wise to confide in your father, and urge him to notify the +police?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I fear it must come to that. But there was no time to-day. I +will speak to him to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the meantime, am I to regard this as confidential? There is my +friend Conrad. He has not the slightest idea of these strange +happenings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please do not tell him,” she begged. “I would not have told you but +for the fact that you discovered me tampering with your car. Can you +forgive me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t worry about that. If our presence here gives you the slightest +sense of security, we are more than happy to be here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later the gong sounded, and Wallace led Yolande in to +dinner. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch03"> +CHAPTER III.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE MONSTER</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> party was waited on by two pretty French maids, while Monsieur +Severin served the wine. The latter interested Wallace. He was +somewhere between fifty and sixty years of age, with a cadaverous face +and small, bird-like eyes. Although he fulfilled his functions +perfectly, he had a habit of constantly looking over his shoulder, +which detracted from his deportment considerably. Having heard what he +had heard, Wallace could not do other than ascribe these frequent +nervous acts to the Monster. Severin evidently expected him +everywhere. He was like a man at his last gasp, hiding his terror by a +commendable effort of will. +</p> + +<p> +“We must give Severin a rest,” said Fallières. “I am afraid he is +approaching a nervous breakdown.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has he been with you long?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. Nearly twenty-five years now. An excellent fellow, and a +connoisseur in wines.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can quite believe that,” said Conrad, as he lifted his glass. +</p> + +<p> +“There! I quite forgot to telephone to Rheims about the car,” said +Fallières. “I will do so immediately after dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +“You need not bother,” put in Wallace. “The car is in going order.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have discovered the trouble?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle and I—between us. It was nothing much.” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid! These trivial accidents are very annoying.” +</p> + +<p> +“Talking about accidents,” said Conrad, “I regret that I have had one +in my room. Rather an inexplicable one, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing serious, I hope?” +</p> + +<p> +“No damage to myself—but to your property, monsieur. I can’t imagine +how it happened. I went to the bathroom, and on returning found the +dressing-table mirror shattered to atoms. It was lying on the floor, +and seemed to have suffered a severe blow. The window was open, but +there was no wind that could have blown so heavy an article to the +floor.” +</p> + +<p> +The face of Fallières went pallid, and Yolande started noticeably. +Conrad was evidently at a loss to understand this rather strange +reception. +</p> + +<p> +“It—it is of no consequence whatever,” stammered Fallières, after a +brief pause. Then, recovering his equanimity, “This is an unfortunate +place for mirrors, Mr. Conrad. We do not seem to be able to keep a +mirror intact for more than a few weeks. There seems to be an evil +spirit here who hates them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it means seven years’ bad luck for me, anyhow,” replied Conrad +with a laugh. “I suppose you find your family quite small now that +your two younger children are away?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Too</i> small. I like to have young people about me. I like their +laughter—their high spirits. I am a little concerned about Yolande, +too. I fear it is not much of a life for a young woman, imprisoned in +a kind of hermitage.” +</p> + +<p> +“Father!” remonstrated Yolande. “You know I love the château, and the +beautiful country.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because it is home to you. I wish you would go away for a period. A +change is good for everyone. There is Uncle Bernard at Nice and your +cousins——” +</p> + +<p> +“You know we never get on together. Are you anxious to be rid of me, +father?” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled and touched her arm affectionately, then he decided to +confide a little in his guests. +</p> + +<p> +“To be quite frank, there is something a little strange about the +château. If I were a superstitious man I should put the estate into +the market and seek for a place that was less charged with the spirits +of the past, but I am rational enough to set at defiance strange signs +and warnings——” +</p> + +<p> +“Warnings!” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“One might interpret them as such. Now, Yolande, I am making your +flesh creep.” +</p> + +<p> +“It has crept before now,” she said, with a wan smile. “I know what +you mean, father. It is everybody’s secret, and we all try to keep it +from each other for fear of ridicule.” +</p> + +<p> +Fallières stroked his chin reflectively. This assertion evidently did +not surprise him greatly, but he was obviously a little distressed. +</p> + +<p> +“This is very interesting,” said Conrad. “But of course every château +has its family ghost. Usually they are accounted for by rats in the +walls, or wind in the chimneys.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande shot him a swift glance, but held her peace. At that moment +Severin came in to inform her that she was wanted on the telephone, +and, as the call was a long-distance one, she left at once. +</p> + +<p> +“This is no rat in the walls, monsieur,” said Fallières, “nor wind in +the chimneys. It is a perplexing, worrying mystery. Something that can +be seen and touched walks this old place intermittently. For periods +it seems to sleep, and peace reigns, but suddenly it becomes +active—and its activity is daily increasing. But you are right to be +sceptical. I was sceptical until I was compelled to accept the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if it is human, surely the remedy is simple.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the remedy?” +</p> + +<p> +“To lay hands on it and deal with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have tried to for years. See, I do not go about unprepared.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced an automatic pistol from his hip pocket and smiled as he +gazed on it. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a very nice thing for a gentleman to carry about in his own home +in the twentieth century,” he said. “I think it is better to lock your +door to-night. I am sorry to have to advise that.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad began to take him seriously for the first time. He looked at +Wallace, whose face was like the Sphinx. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you make of this, Ralph?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Frankly, I don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither do I. But, by Jove, I’d like to meet this thing. Has anyone +ever really seen it face to face?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—Severin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Someone else has,” blurted Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +Fallières stared at him in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“I—I am afraid I have betrayed my trust,” murmured Wallace. “Well, +perhaps it doesn’t matter so much now. Your daughter saw it years +ago—in her room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Great God!” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she tell you that?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace nodded, and hoped Fallières would not question him further, +for he was not anxious to relate the incident of the car to the stern +old man. But the horror of this discovery was sufficient temporarily +to stun Fallières. +</p> + +<p> +“She must leave,” he said. “I will send her down to Nice. I fear that +these happenings are working up to a crisis. For myself, I mean to +stay. Nothing shall drive me from this place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well spoken,” said Conrad. “There must be an explanation—a very +simple one. We live in the twentieth century, and ought not to +tolerate superstition.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it superstition? Who breaks the mirrors and befouls the +furnishings? What is it that utters horrible noises in rooms and +galleries? What was it my daughter saw? I admit it may have been a +hallucination, brought about by a dream and by the gossip in the +servants’ hall; but, on the other hand, I should have to be insane to +believe that all I have heard was due to my own imagination.” +</p> + +<p> +When Yolande reappeared, they changed the conversation quickly. At her +father’s request she agreed to play for them, and for two hours the +sweet strains of music filled the place. It changed the brooding +atmosphere at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you sing?” asked Yolande of Wallace. “I have lots of English +songs.” +</p> + +<p> +He was not unwilling, for he possessed a very fair baritone voice and +knew a whole host of songs. She proved to be an excellent accompanist, +and in one or two duets their voices blended well. +</p> + +<p> +“Bravo!” said Fallières. “That was charming. Yolande seldom has an +opportunity of singing duets. Find another, please.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus the evening passed, and at midnight the party retired. Before +going to his room, Wallace stepped on to the terrace with Yolande to +get a last breath of fresh air. A brilliant moon illumined the valley +and the dark forest. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you for changing my wires over,” he said. “This has been a most +enjoyable evening. I should not brood too much on that other business. +I feel sure there must be a very simple solution that you will +discover before long.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish there were,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“What a queer yarn that was,” mused Conrad, as he sat and smoked a +cigarette in Wallace’s room. “Of course there is nothing in it. They +have let themselves get into that state.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I am surprised at you. A young hefty lump of bone and muscle +prepared to accept fairy-tales! Shame on you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Fallières doesn’t strike me as being hysterical, nor does Yolande.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what will you do if you meet <i>IT</i>?” jested Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Hit it as hard as I know how.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it is not human, I don’t think that will disconcert it much.” +</p> + +<p> +“It will disconcert me if I don’t find something to stop my fist. What +a curious day it has turned out! I quite imagined we should be +sleeping in Rheims to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“What does the poet say? ‘The best-laid schemes of mice and men——’ +Jove, what a night! A full moon and not a breath of wind. These are +sensible windows.” +</p> + +<p> +He pushed the casement open wider and leaned out. They were on the +side of the château facing the valley, and the drop from the window +to earth proper was tremendous, for below the level of the ground +floor there was nearly a hundred feet of buttress. +</p> + +<p> +“Fine place to commit suicide,” he said, flinging the end of his +cigarette into the abyss. “There it goes, down—down— What was that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I heard nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought I heard a cry—kind of snarl. Must have been fancy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Imbibing the atmosphere,” said Wallace. “Now turn out. I’m going to +bed.” +</p> + +<p> +But Conrad still stood by the window with his head inclined to one +side. +</p> + +<p> +“I could have sworn——” +</p> + +<p> +The next moment a reverberating report came from within the building, +followed by a loud yelling. +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” ejaculated Conrad. “That is Fallières’s voice. He is only +three rooms away. There is something wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come on,” said Wallace, and made for the door. +</p> + +<p> +In the corridor they saw Yolande running towards them, clad in a +kimono, and some distance behind her old Severin, with an antiquated +firearm in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard a shot,” she gasped, “and a voice that sounded like my +father’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which is his room?” +</p> + +<p> +“There.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace rapped on the door, and, receiving no reply, opened it +immediately. The room was empty, but the bed had been occupied, and +across the pillow was a long streak of blood. On the floor was an +automatic pistol, still warm. +</p> + +<p> +“Queer!” muttered Conrad. “How could he have left the room?” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace flung open the wardrobe cupboard and looked under the bed. He +turned round on Severin. +</p> + +<p> +“You heard the shot?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, m’sieu. I ran up the stairs and along the passage immediately. +The master never came that way or I should have seen him.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace went to the window, which was partly open, but below was the +same abyss that fronted his own room. +</p> + +<p> +“He shot at something,” said Conrad. “Look, the bullet is embedded in +the wall here. He must have missed.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was the Monster,” croaked Severin, crossing himself. “Always he +comes at the full moon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Full moon—fiddlesticks!” retorted Conrad. “How could anyone get into +this room? The question is, where is Monsieur Fallières?” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace heard a low sob, and turned to see Yolande totter. He caught +her in his arms, and under Severin’s guidance carried her to her room. +Having sent for a maid, he went back to Conrad. The latter was sitting +on the bed, stroking his chin reflectively. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like the look of this,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor do I. Gad, it’s a bit uncanny. It seems impossible that anyone +could have left the room by the door without being observed in the +passage. But we mustn’t draw premature conclusions. I am going to +gather together a search-party.” +</p> + +<p> +“That seems to be the obvious thing to do. Let us make a start at +once.” +</p> + +<p> +The nerve-shattered Severin was found and some half-dozen male +servants were mustered. The main apartments of the château were +quickly ransacked, but there remained a very large number of +unoccupied rooms and annexes, and these took time. Ultimately the +possibility of finding Fallières inside the château was abandoned. +The extensive vaults were explored, but these provided no clue of any +kind towards the solution of the mystery. +</p> + +<p> +“The next thing is to make a search under the window of Fallières’s +room,” said Wallace. “We shall need lanterns or torches.” +</p> + +<p> +To reach this spot necessitated the descent of many flights of steps +leading from the terrace. That part of the cultivated grounds of the +château was given up to rock-gardens, interspersed with winding +gravel paths, by means of which, after a considerable detour, the more +exotic flower-gardens could be reached. Severin pointed out +Fallières’s still-lighted window, and the party walked to a spot +immediately beneath it. Thick ivy scrambled up the wall, but there was +no sign of any disturbance, and the freshly-raked gravel path showed +no footprints but their own. +</p> + +<p> +A search was made among the neighbouring bushes, but all in vain. They +returned by the long path, and ultimately reached the château, tired +out and baffled. Conrad dismissed the servants, and he and Wallace +went and sat in the drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +“In the circumstances there is only one thing left to be done,” said +Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Notify the police?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. What the etiquette is in such matters I don’t know, but I should +imagine Paris will act immediately when it concerns a man so widely +known as Fallières. I will telephone the Préfecture now. I daresay +there will be considerable delay.” +</p> + +<p> +He put the call through, and returned to yarn with Wallace until he +was rung. Neither of them was a nervous man, but both looked very grim +and thoughtful. +</p> + +<p> +“We haven’t seen half the château,” said Wallace. “There were lots of +passages that Severin passed by.” +</p> + +<p> +“I noticed that—but the place is such a maze. Of course Severin was +scared stiff.” +</p> + +<p> +An hour passed before the telephone bell rang. Conrad went to the +instrument, and was engaged in conversation for some minutes. At +length he came back. +</p> + +<p> +“It appears I ought to have informed the local police,” he said. “But, +anyway, they are going to act at once. A good man is leaving Paris by +the next train. I’m afraid we shall not be able to leave in the +morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rather not. I’m keen on seeing this thing through. It looks +remarkably like murder to me.” +</p> + +<p> +The first glad light of the dawn appeared in the eastern sky before +they rose and went to their rooms. Even then Wallace did not undress, +but reclined on his bed, with ears alert. Sometimes in the dead +silence he thought he heard a woman sobbing. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch04"> +CHAPTER IV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">FOUCHARD</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Both</span> Wallace and Conrad rang for their <i>petit déjeuner</i> at a very +early hour, for their minds were too full of the hideous tragedy of +the preceding night to permit of comfortable repose. Severin, who +looked as if he had not been to bed, informed them that his young +mistress had passed a bad night, but refused to rest in her room. She +was now dressing. +</p> + +<p> +“What are we going to do now?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“That depends upon Yolande.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think she will be glad of our company for a bit?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you think that is probable? This man from Paris will turn the +place upside down, and ask a lot of painful questions. One thing is +certain—Fallières is either seriously wounded or dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“But where is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the crux of the whole mystery. Connie, do you think the old +boy is to be trusted?” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean Severin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He acts very strangely at times. I had a feeling last night that +he was deliberately avoiding certain parts of the château; and he was +seen in the corridor immediately after we heard the shot fired.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are not suggesting that Severin shot his master and then hid him +somewhere?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s as good a solution as any we have struck.” +</p> + +<p> +“Incredible. Fallières spoke most highly of Severin. No, Severin is +only suffering from fright. You forget that Severin has seen this +alleged monster, and we have not.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is hard to believe in monsters in the full light of day. I wonder +if we are all going mad.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mad or not, Fallières is missing. We should have to be mad indeed to +believe that he is perpetrating some practical joke. No, I fear we are +up against grim fact.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned as he heard a footstep behind him, and Yolande entered the +room. Her face was deathly pale, and it was evident that she had not +slept. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Bon jour!</i>” she said. “I suppose there is no news?” +</p> + +<p> +“None. I ’phoned to the Préfecture of Police last night, and a good +man was despatched immediately. He should be here at any moment.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +She sat down limply, and Conrad took her hand in fatherly fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“You must not worry too much,” he murmured. “I admit the situation is +baffling, but hope must not be abandoned.” +</p> + +<p> +“I feel so powerless,” she replied. “Where is one to look—what is one +to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Keep a stiff lip.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not going to break down,” she said. “Nor will I leave a stone +unturned to solve this terrible mystery. For too long we have +tolerated it. You have breakfasted?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you will soon be leaving?” +</p> + +<p> +“That rests with you, mademoiselle. I am indebted to your father in +many ways, and if I could be of the least assistance, you have only to +command me. I know I can speak for my young friend here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rather!” put in Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Then stay,” she pleaded. “If this strange thing is to be brought to +bay, it will need the strength and wits of men. I need your help, God +knows.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace breathed a sigh of relief. He had the adventurous spirit, and +his blood was boiling at the atrocity that had been committed. +Man-hunt or ghost-hunt, it was all the same to him. He was brimming +over with vitality, and wanted nothing more than to get to grips with +this alleged monster. +</p> + +<p> +“We will consider that settled,” said Conrad calmly. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later a servant entered with a card. It bore the name of +Arnaud Fouchard, no more. +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard,” mused Conrad. “I have heard that name.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is from the Préfecture of Police,” whispered Yolande. “It is the +dreaded Fouchard. All France knows of him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! He has certainly lost no time.” +</p> + +<p> +The great Fouchard was shown in. He was in plain clothes and of most +unprepossessing appearance. His face was like that of a Mongolian, and +he wore a scrubby little beard and moustache. In size he was +diminutive, but there was an alertness about him that reminded one of +a galvanised wire. He bowed low to Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“You are Monsieur Fouchard?” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“At your service. Of course you are Mademoiselle Fallières?” +</p> + +<p> +She nodded, and introduced Wallace and Conrad as two friends of the +family—and guests. +</p> + +<p> +“Now we can go ahead,” he said. “I gathered that Monsieur Fallières +is missing and that you suspect foul play.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is so,” replied Conrad. “He disappeared from his room at about +twelve-thirty last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm! Why do you suspect foul play?” +</p> + +<p> +“His bed had been occupied, and there is blood on the pillow.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will look at the room.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande stayed below while Wallace and Conrad went to the room with +the officer. Nothing had been touched since the night before, except +that Conrad had possessed himself of the pistol. Fouchard examined the +pillow and the floor, and then walked to the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Nasty drop!” he muttered. “Tell me exactly what occurred, so far as +you are able.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad narrated the incident, while Fouchard made minute shorthand +notes in a huge pocket-book. All the while he made queer facial +contortions. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the pistol?” he snapped. +</p> + +<p> +Conrad produced it from his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Hm! One shot fired. I wish you had left it where you found it, +monsieur,” he said irritably. “How can you expect me to sort things +out if you play about with the evidence? Where did you find this?” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad pointed out the spot a trifle huffily, for he objected to the +tone of Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“When did you arrive here?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm! You know Monsieur Fallières intimately?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see what that has to do with the case. But if you insist, I +do not know him intimately. It was an old friendship unexpectedly +revived.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were in your room when the shot was fired?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—I have already said so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was Monsieur Fallières at all apprehensive last night—before he +retired?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—yes, he was. You may as well know the truth about this place, +monsieur. It is common gossip that it is haunted——” +</p> + +<p> +“Haunted! Pah!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I guessed you would say that. I am only giving you the facts as +we have heard them. Mademoiselle Fallières will corroborate. The +story goes that a huge creature runs amok here, making horrid noises +at nights, and breaking mirrors. This kind of thing has been going on +for two years. Because of this, Monsieur Fallières was always armed. +The theory is that this monster came through the window and attacked +Monsieur Fallières——” +</p> + +<p> +“And carried him away? I ask you, monsieur, could any living creature +carry a burden down that wall?” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace, who was looking out of the window, suddenly made an +ejaculation. Fouchard swung round on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is something I didn’t notice before,” he said. “Look, there is +an iron spike driven between two blocks. If one could reach that, it +would be easy to step on to the ivy and mount to the north tower. The +roots are astonishingly thick.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard gazed at the projecting iron and the ivy and shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite impossible!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t agree,” retorted Wallace. “Why, I could do it myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are merely wasting time,” snapped Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>You</i> are,” replied Wallace. “I’ll show you whether it is +impossible.” +</p> + +<p> +Before Conrad could stop him, he stepped through the window, and, +clinging to the projecting iron, found a secure footing on the thick +ivy that went trailing towards the tower. +</p> + +<p> +“Take care!” warned Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s as tough as old Harry,” he called back, and went on with the +agility of an acrobat. +</p> + +<p> +In ten minutes he was seated astride the wall some thirty feet above +them, close to where the northern turret soared upwards. The acute +angle formed by the roof of the château prevented him from using his +feet, so he moved along the parapet leap-frog fashion until the round +wall of the tower brought him to a halt. +</p> + +<p> +“Come back!” yelled Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed and waved his hand, then made his way back again, entering +the window without much difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +“I could have climbed the tower,” he said. “The ivy goes right up to +the window. All the way along the ivy was worn, as if someone else had +used it. In two places it was broken.” +</p> + +<p> +“A splendid feat,” said Fouchard. “But it gets us no further. You +forget that you had no burden to carry, and you appear to be +exceptionally agile.” +</p> + +<p> +“There are other people in the world equally agile.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there a man who could do that with another man on his back? No, it +is impossible.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the only solution that fits, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t fit. Personally, I am convinced that Monsieur Fallières +never made his exit through that window. Had he done so, we should +expect to find his mangled body down below.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace shrugged his shoulders, and Fouchard intimated that he wished +to interrogate some of the servants. They let him go his way. +</p> + +<p> +“Is he an idiot, or is it only bluff?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not sure. He looks a capable kind of person, but it is possible +that he has formed some other theory that he is not willing to +divulge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if he had treated me with any kind of respect at all I would +have told him something else. Conrad, I saw blood marks on that ivy in +three different places. Incredible as it may sound, the person or +thing that entered Fallières’s room climbed the ivy as I did, with +Fallières on his back. By Jove, I can appreciate a feat of that +size!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is astounding.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know.” His face grew serious. “Conrad, I’m wondering whether it is +anything human we are up against.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why should he—or it—want to do such a thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“If he had killed Fallières he might want to dispose of the body. +After all, you cannot bring a conviction without identifying the +corpse.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad winced. The whole affair was so fantastic it was difficult to +think logically. He thought he ought to have laughed at the theory of +a monster, but what was it that had entered Fallières’s room and +performed that astounding feat of acrobatics along the face of the +château? +</p> + +<p> +“A bit uncanny, this,” he confessed. +</p> + +<p> +“Interesting if it wasn’t for the fact of Fallières’s disappearance. +We’ve got to explore that tower—and without delay. Come, while friend +Fouchard is interviewing the servants.” +</p> + +<p> +They found the place with some difficulty. It was approached through a +gallery on the second floor of the big building. That end of the +château had not been occupied for a long period, and there was little +in the way of furniture. The turret itself was reached by a spiral +staircase, the space being so confined that one’s shoulders touched +the walls on either side. The chamber at the top was circular, and a +veritable masterpiece in architecture. The slabs of stone that +comprised it were beautifully dressed, and there was no sign of decay. +The chamber was bare save for a single oak seat near the leaded +window. +</p> + +<p> +“What a view!” exclaimed Conrad. Then, excitedly, “There is blood here +too. Look!” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace nodded as he gazed at the unmistakable stains on the +window-sill. He slipped the bolt of the window and poked his head +outside. A narrow gallery surrounded the turret, and over the low wall +scrambled the invincible ivy. +</p> + +<p> +“There used to be a door leading to the gallery,” said Conrad. “It was +here. You can see where it has been filled in. Probably some member of +the Grammont family committed suicide a century or two ago. But I can +scarcely yet swallow the fact that our mysterious friend carried a +man’s body up the tower and through this window.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t care to try it myself,” agreed Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“But isn’t the evidence conclusive?” +</p> + +<p> +“Fairly. But where is Fallières?” +</p> + +<p> +“The whole thing is sunk in mystery. It looks as if the corridor +through which we came connects up with the four turrets. One thing is +certain, the whole château will have to be searched if we are to hope +for any success. There are vaults and heaven knows what underneath.” +</p> + +<p> +“We must get Severin to pilot us round again. I can’t understand why +Fouchard should waste time interrogating the servants while there is +yet a chance of finding Fallières alive.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Fallières’s mysterious assailant would not have run off with the +body except with the object of hiding it away. He would take good care +life was extinct.” +</p> + +<p> +“The whole business is most gruesome. Let us find Monsieur Fouchard +and see what conclusion he has arrived at.” +</p> + +<p> +“If any,” added Wallace. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch05"> +CHAPTER V.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">BAFFLED</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">When</span> they reached the ground floor Monsieur Fouchard was discovered +fully occupied. He was sitting at a table with his note-book before +him rapping out questions to Severin, whose nervousness was clearly +manifested. +</p> + +<p> +“You endorse this ridiculous story of a strange being who haunts the +château, Monsieur Severin?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can one help it?” stammered the old man. “If monsieur were in my +place he would know it is true.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard noises?” +</p> + +<p> +“Awful noises.” +</p> + +<p> +“Frequently?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have discovered things missing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Many things.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” +</p> + +<p> +“Food, wine and——” +</p> + +<p> +“Food and wine are always missing in big establishments. But I will +get to the point. Have you ever seen a strange person anywhere in the +château?” +</p> + +<p> +Severin trembled visibly and then nodded his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, we are getting warmer! Where did you see this person, and in what +circumstances?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was in the long west gallery—a year ago. He—it came towards me +and stopped within a few yards of me. Monsieur, I was terrified. I +tried to turn and run but could not. For a full minute he stood there +laughing at me and then—then I think I lost my senses. When I came to +there was nothing to be seen.” +</p> + +<p> +“You saw it plainly—as you see me now. It was no shadow—no trick of +the lighting?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Mon Dieu</i>, it was in broad daylight. He was immense and covered by a +robe—like a monk. A cowl was over his head and only his eyes and nose +were visible. Cruel eyes and a hooked nose. When he laughed at me it +was like no sound I had ever heard before.” Then in a burst of +hysteria, “It was he who killed the master—I know it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That will do, Monsieur Severin,” said Fouchard. “There is no other +servant who has seen this creature?” +</p> + +<p> +“No one, but all have heard him. No one in the village will come to +the château. They all know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm! That will do for the present.” +</p> + +<p> +Severin shuffled out and Fouchard put his book into his pocket. He +turned and glared at Wallace and Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“The hallucination of an old man,” he grumbled. +</p> + +<p> +“It was no hallucination,” said Yolande quietly. “Severin is getting +old, but he has all his senses. I know it was no hallucination because +I too have seen this—this thing, and the description agrees +perfectly.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard raised his bushy eyebrows at this. +</p> + +<p> +“I had no idea.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was nearly two years ago. I am afraid you will have to accept +facts. There is something in this château—man, beast, or +spirit—that comes and goes and hides itself away successfully. I fear +it has murdered my poor father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle, I beg you not to draw premature conclusions,” urged +Fouchard. “I mean to have every inch of the château and the precincts +searched to-day. I trust you will permit me to use the servants as I +think fit?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do anything you wish. My one desire is to know the truth about my +father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we will get to work.” +</p> + +<p> +He bowed and left the room. Yolande came across to Wallace and Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of him?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not sure whether he is not bluffing us,” said Conrad. “I think +he objects to our presence here, and Wallace has already stroked him +the wrong way.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see why we should not all work together amicably,” said +Wallace. “After all, we have a common object in view. I happened to +discover something and immediately he pooh-poohed it; out of +professional jealousy, I suppose. He has made up his mind not to +accept Severin’s story.” +</p> + +<p> +“What have you discovered?” asked Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace hesitated, but she divined immediately that he had something +unpleasant to narrate and encouraged him. +</p> + +<p> +“Please don’t keep anything from me. I have suffered a terrible blow, +but I am trying to fight this thing. I have made up my mind to stay +here whatever happens. If this creature is human he must be brought to +justice. I want to know everything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I discovered that your father’s room was apparently entered by +the window. Certainly his body was taken out that way. The north tower +could be reached by climbing the ivy—I have done it myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“But with a big burden as my father would have been?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that even that is not impossible. At any rate, I found traces +of—of blood in several places, also on the window-sill in the tower.” +</p> + +<p> +“It—it is incredible!” +</p> + +<p> +“I know. But you must remember that, immediately after the shot was +fired, there were several persons in the corridor. Neither your father +nor his assassin could have left the room on that side without being +seen.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is true, but to take a human body up— You have been to the +tower?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The trail ends there. I have an idea that your father is +somewhere in this house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard is now organising a search. Oh, if one could only entertain +the faintest hope!” +</p> + +<p> +They said nothing, for there was nothing of comfort to be said. It +seemed so certain that Fallières had breathed his last in this world. +</p> + +<p> +At the suggestion of Wallace they took the Bentley and made a tour of +the district, leaving the search for the missing man in the hands of +Fouchard. The trip was beneficial to Yolande. She fell in love with +the car and for a time at least pushed the spectre into the +background. The forest embraced many thousand acres and was dotted +with woodmen’s huts, for it supplied fuel for the whole district. Here +and there were war-time scars, but it had not suffered greatly, and +the income from timber rights was considerable. +</p> + +<p> +“The Germans made good use of it,” said Yolande. “After the occupation +of the château they were able to withdraw with very few casualties.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are the woodmen in your employ?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no. They hold their cottages on small rentals, and have certain +timber rights. My father employs a ranger who sees that the younger +trees are preserved. He lives in the forest.” +</p> + +<p> +In order to keep her from thoughts of her father, Wallace suggested +she should drive the car. She accepted with obvious joy and quickly +made herself acquainted with the controls. He watched her eyes +brighten as she made a burst of speed along the straight road. +</p> + +<p> +“I am in love with it,” she said. “I feel I would like to head for +some distant place—Nice or Biarritz. It is a more lovable—more +intimate machine than the Hispano. That reminds me that Watkins is due +back this evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is Watkins?” +</p> + +<p> +“The chauffeur. Yes, he is English, and most capable. We engaged him +because he understands electrical matters, and is able to look after +the power plant for the house. He speaks French—terrible French.” +</p> + +<p> +On the homeward journey the old spectre began to rear its ugly head +again. An atmosphere of gloom was entered immediately the towers of +the château came to view. Wallace gazed at Conrad and saw that his +friend’s mouth was firmly set. Yolande looked pale, and her small +hands were clenched in her lap. +</p> + +<p> +For the rest of the day the two guests prowled around the château, +exploring outbuildings. When evening came, they had discovered +nothing. Of Fouchard there had been no sign since the morning. Severin +informed them that he had seen the detective going towards the forest. +</p> + +<p> +“Has he sent the servants to make a search?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Not to my knowledge, monsieur. The gardeners have been working in the +greenhouse, and the indoor staff is in the servants’ hall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Looks as if his search party comprises himself,” growled Conrad. +“Mysterious devil!” +</p> + +<p> +Shortly before dinner the two men were sitting in front of the +château enjoying the wonderful sunset. But with the declining sun +came an eerie sensation. Wallace laughed suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” ejaculated Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re getting nervy, old man. It’s this sense of impotence. If only +we were at grips with the problem it would be better. Where the devil +is one to start?” +</p> + +<p> +“We ought to have carried out a more thorough search on our own,” said +Conrad. “I thought Fouchard was going to do it on a grand scale. +Whatever may be his attitude, I am going to waste no more time. Let us +collar Severin in the morning and ransack the place. If only we find +Fallières’s body, that will be something achieved. The tension must +be terrible for Yolande. She is magnificently courageous, but I am +sure it would be better for her to know the worst than to be kept in +this awful suspense.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m with you. But what on earth is Fouchard doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Here comes Yolande. Perhaps she has news.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande was half way across the courtyard, and the two men were making +towards her when she suddenly stopped and uttered a cry. Her eyes were +turned towards the north tower which was silhouetted against the +crimsoning sky. Wallace looked up and gasped at what he saw. Standing +in the narrow gallery that surrounded the tower was an immense figure, +clad like a Capuchin monk. The arms were folded and it stood perfectly +still—looking down into the wide courtyard. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” +</p> + +<p> +“My God!” ejaculated Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“That is—he,” said Yolande in a weak voice. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace caught her by the arm and pointed to the garage. +</p> + +<p> +“The chauffeur has just returned. Please go and talk to him—it is +safer. There is just a chance we may collar that thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—yes. But take care. Oh, take care!” +</p> + +<p> +“Have no doubt on that score,” he replied grimly. +</p> + +<p> +She turned away and he swung round on Conrad, who was watching the +still figure on the tower. +</p> + +<p> +“Now’s the time, Connie. Have you got that pistol?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, worse luck. Fouchard took it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind. We can pick up something on our way. There’s no time to +waste. I reckon I can get into the top gallery before he can leave it. +Follow me!” +</p> + +<p> +With this he bolted for the main entrance. Conrad lost no time in +following. Older man as he was, he was fit in wind and limb, and was +good in an emergency. By the time he reached the hall, Wallace was out +of sight. His eye caught a gleam of shining steel and he wrested a +short sword from its hangings. With a low growl of excitement he +followed hot on the heels of his young friend. +</p> + +<p> +Panting, he reached the first landing, but Wallace had outstripped him +easily. He made up the next flight of stairs at breakneck pace and +eventually emerged into the top gallery. Dark as it was, he could see +Wallace ahead of him with an awful-looking bludgeon in his hand. +Wallace turned and beckoned him. He joined him in a few seconds. +</p> + +<p> +“Any sign?” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“No. But I don’t think he could have got away in the few seconds it +has taken me to get here. I believe we have him cornered.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to think so.” +</p> + +<p> +“The trouble lies in the tower itself. It is so infernally dark. I +wish we had brought an electric torch. There is no lighting up there. +Anyway, you hang on to me. He ought not to floor the pair of us.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, but we ought to have taken the precaution of laying in firearms. +If he happens to have an automatic——” +</p> + +<p> +“Better not think about it. Are you ready?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +They crept along the remainder of the gallery and came to the entrance +to the tower. Wallace pushed open the door slowly and then crept +through. Before them was the dark, forbidding stone spiral staircase. +Wallace slipped off his shoes and when Conrad had done likewise the +ascent began. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch06"> +CHAPTER VI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE UNEXPECTED</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">In the</span> pitch darkness the two men mounted the stone steps, fully +expecting a savage assault at any moment. So quiet was everything that +the sound of their breathing seemed tremendous. Wallace took comfort +from the fact that a revolver bullet would have to be fired within a +yard or two to inflict any injury—close enough for him to use the +cudgel to effect. +</p> + +<p> +Round and round they went, each counting the steps mentally. There +were sixty-three of them all told. Outside the door, Conrad was +enabled to come to the side of his companion. He gripped the +dangerous-looking sword tighter as Wallace opened the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Empty!” +</p> + +<p> +The ejaculation leaped from Wallace’s lips. The interior was well +lighted by the sunset, and the window was bolted on the inside. Conrad +passed his hand across his brow, which was clammy with perspiration. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone!” he said. “How the devil——” +</p> + +<p> +“He may be outside.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could he fasten the window behind him?” +</p> + +<p> +“How does he manage to perform all these astonishing tricks?” +</p> + +<p> +He was not satisfied until he had opened the window and climbed +through it in order to see if the mysterious figure was making a +retreat along the ivy. But there was no sign of him. He rejoined his +companion. +</p> + +<p> +“He must have slid along the corridor like lightning,” he said. “He +had to climb through the window, descend sixty-three stairs, and run +the whole length of the corridor while I was getting up stairs. I +could have sworn it was impossible.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are evidently dealing with a creature of amazing agility. By Jove, +what a size it was—at least seven feet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Big men as a rule are not very agile. But, assuming he beat us in the +race, where did he vanish to?” +</p> + +<p> +“There are the other towers and probably many outlets—old staircases +and so forth.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very disappointing.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is—in a way. Yet I think we were mad to attempt to nab him with +nothing but a club and an old sword. This man is a killer—have no +doubt about that. In future I am going to carry something more deadly +than an antique sword.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are we to do now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing until the morning. We’ll take the car and run into the +nearest place that has firearms for sale. This game has long passed +the pastime stage. I think I can hear the dinner-gong. Lord, I can do +with a bottle of wine.” +</p> + +<p> +On reaching the lower regions, they were surprised to find Yolande in +conversation with a stranger. He was a portly individual, and had a +rough bandage round his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” asked Yolande excitedly. +</p> + +<p> +“We were too late. He had vanished.” +</p> + +<p> +“I feared he would.” +</p> + +<p> +“His good luck won’t hold for ever,” said Wallace. “If I could have +knocked two seconds off my time I believe we should have got him.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande shook her head, and then suddenly burst a surprise upon them. +</p> + +<p> +“This gentleman is Arnaud Fouchard,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard—Arnaud Fouchard!” gasped Conrad, staring at the new +arrival. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, monsieur—<i>the</i> Arnaud Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“But we— I don’t understand this.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have arrived early this morning, but there seems to have +been a little conspiracy afoot. There was but one conveyance at the +station and I engaged it. I admit I was badly tricked. The driver +stopped the car some four miles from the château and swore he had a +puncture. He was clever enough to hit me here with the handle of the +jack and to deposit my body in a foul pit. That is a little incident I +shall not forget in a hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Great Scott! But who was the man who came— I get you now. That +little wretch with the scrubby beard was the man who drove you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely. He removed my card-case and my money. I was hoping I +should find him here.” +</p> + +<p> +“He has not returned since this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor will he return.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not quite clear on this,” said Wallace. “Why should that man +want to masquerade as you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Merely to get inside the house and to keep me off the trail for a +bit. He certainly succeeded in knocking me out for ten hours, but here +I am.” +</p> + +<p> +“This gets more and more involved,” said Conrad. “He must have had an +important object.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, a keen desire to know how much you knew about this—this +mysterious disappearance. He had an opportunity of questioning +everybody, and, having learned all he wanted to know, he vanished.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how could he have known you were on your way to the château?” +asked Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“There we approach the edge of the conspiracy—whatever it may be. +Someone in this house knew that a message had gone to Paris over the +telephone—someone in touch with our masquerading friend. There is but +one train from Paris to Arveyes after midnight. There were few +passengers, and I think I am fairly well known to most people with +criminal tendencies. That brings three persons into the case—the +phantom whom I believe you have just seen, the man with the scrubby +beard who knocked me out, and the person in the château who +communicated with the latter.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may have been the Monster who overheard,” suggested Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly—but I doubt it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better join us at dinner,” said Yolande. “You are looking +fatigued, and some refreshment will revive you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” he replied with a smile. “Fortunately ‘Bluebeard’ left my +suit-case with my injured person. I will join you very soon.” +</p> + +<p> +Severin was called and, taking the suit-case, showed Fouchard to his +room. Yolande sighed as she turned to the other two. +</p> + +<p> +“What will happen next?” she asked pensively. +</p> + +<p> +“At any rate, a little progress has been made,” said Wallace. “We now +know that there is more than one person in this business. And I +certainly like the real Fouchard better than the false.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are there any servants in the house whom you have cause to mistrust?” +enquired Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I know of none. But we are changing them so often that it is +difficult to say. Severin of course knows more about them than I. We +engaged three new ones a month ago.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard was not long in changing his clothes and removing most of the +signs of his adventure. He seemed a jovial kind of personage and not +at all secretive. His appetite was enormous and he made the most of +the excellent meal. Yolande, however, ate very little. It was obvious +that, despite her patience and fortitude, she was suffering from +terrible anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard all about this affair?” asked Wallace of Fouchard, +when the last course was served. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle has put me in possession of most of the facts. It would +be vain to pretend that I have any theory to propound so far. The only +thing that is evident is that certain persons are in league to achieve +some object as yet unknown.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet this has been going on for two years.” +</p> + +<p> +“Big schemes require time. The fact that this has been going on for so +long leads one to the conclusion that great things are at stake. If I +can only lay hands on that little ruffian who molested me, I warrant I +will make him talk up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that as important as laying hands on the Monster?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard stroked his chin. It was clear that the phantom puzzled him +deeply. He could see no logical connection between the breaking of +mirrors and the befouling of furniture, and the perpetration of any +ordinary crime. +</p> + +<p> +“This flinging of muck savours of Sadism,” he mused. +</p> + +<p> +“What is Sadism?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“A kind of moral perversion. There was a Marquis de Sade who delighted +in propagating a new cult. It is not a pleasant subject and is better +left alone. But I should like to provide a test. Has mademoiselle any +objection to having a big mirror installed in one of the +reception-rooms?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll do anything that will help,” replied Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Very good. But there are more pressing duties. I want to get the +lay-out of the château. At the same time we can institute a search +for Monsieur Fallières. I propose to make a start in half an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +This was more like business, and Wallace became enthusiastic +immediately. There were no firearms in the château, but Fouchard was +well prepared. He possessed a small armoury and offered to lend the +other two men automatics, which offer they accepted. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to be frank about this,” he said. “The circumstances attending +the disappearance of Monsieur Fallières point to the existence of +considerable danger. I suggest that it might be advisable if +mademoiselle were to pay a visit to some friends.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande shook her head determinedly. +</p> + +<p> +“I know there is danger,” she added. “I feel that my poor father has +been savagely murdered, but I refuse to leave this place. For years he +faced the danger, and I will face it too. Please act as if I were not +here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. One thing, however, I would advise. Severin informed me +that your room was some distance from the other occupied rooms. I +would counsel you changed it for one nearer mine, or of these two +gentlemen.” +</p> + +<p> +She agreed to have this change made immediately, and chose the room +next to that occupied by Wallace, access to which there was positively +none except by the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Now we will call Monsieur Severin,” said Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +When the butler heard what was required of him he displayed distinct +signs of nervousness. Apparently there were parts of the château +which he preferred to let alone after darkness had fallen. +</p> + +<p> +“We want to go all over the place, monsieur,” said Fouchard. “In every +room, cupboard, and corner.” +</p> + +<p> +“But there are parts of the château unlighted,” stammered Severin. +</p> + +<p> +“Watkins will provide you with electric torches,” said Yolande and +overcame that obstacle. +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, mademoiselle,” mumbled Severin. “I will get them at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose he <i>is</i> to be trusted,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“You need have no doubt about that. He is merely nerve-shattered. Poor +Severin—I shall have to give him a holiday.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later Severin presented himself again. He carried two +large hand-lamps, and asked if the gentlemen were ready. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite ready,” said Fouchard. “You would prefer to stay here, +mademoiselle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I am a little fatigued.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take one of those lamps,” said Fouchard. “I think we will make a +start at the top and work our way down. Lead on!” +</p> + +<p> +Then began an excursion which was somewhat eerie. The top gallery of +the château had no illumination of any kind, and the electric lamps +had to be brought into use. As Wallace had surmised, the four towers +were identical, and were connected by the gallery which entirely +circumscribed the big building. Their boots echoed on the flagstones, +and the lamps threw strange shadows. Severin advanced slowly, talking +a lot, probably to bolster up his nerves. From the western gallery +there was an old staircase leading to the lower floor. +</p> + +<p> +“We will go down there on our return,” said Fouchard. “Now I shall be +glad if you will show me where you found the bloodstains, Monsieur +Wallace.” +</p> + +<p> +Severin nearly dropped the lamp at this remark. In the north tower +Wallace pointed out the stains, and explained how it was possible to +reach it from several rooms on the first floor by climbing the ivy. He +expected that Fouchard would ridicule his theory about the carrying of +Fallières’s body, but he merely inclined his head. +</p> + +<p> +“This part seems to be plain sailing,” he said. “There seem to be but +two ways down—the main staircase, and the passage we passed just now. +We will descend.” +</p> + +<p> +The alternative staircase was a curious affair. It wound between the +walls and took an enormous distance to connect with the lower floor. +Here the business was much more complicated, for the building had +evidently been altered at several periods and there were all kinds of +connecting passages and dead ends. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite a maze!” said Fouchard. “One needs a plan to get the hang of +it.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly there was a curious squeak, and something dark hit him in the +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Only a bat,” he muttered. “Ah, that is better. We can now see what we +are doing.” +</p> + +<p> +This as Severin found an electric light switch and illuminated the +surroundings. There were a dozen or so rooms, mostly unfurnished, and +in all of them the patient Fouchard went. Severin with his huge bunch +of keys opened all sorts of queer chambers, and in every case things +were in order. The ground floor was equally well searched, and Severin +led the way to the cellars. +</p> + +<p> +These vaults extended the full length of the château in a series of +arches. A portion of the space was given up to wine-bins, which were +plentifully stocked. Here and there was an electric light, but on the +whole the place was gloomy, and very damp. In one spot the water had +percolated through the walls, leaving a thin layer of mud on the +ground. Fouchard was stepping gingerly over this when he noticed +something and stooped down. Bringing the light of the electric lamp to +his aid, he observed two enormous footprints. +</p> + +<p> +“Interesting!” he said. “Our monster walks here, and his last visit +was within twenty-four hours.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a foot!” gasped Conrad. “Why, it is four inches longer than +mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“The foot of a seven-foot man, unless he is abnormal in that respect. +They point this way. Lead on, Severin!” +</p> + +<p> +But Monsieur Severin collapsed on an old keg. His lips moved +nervelessly and he shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I have never been farther than this, monsieur. I—I am afraid I feel +unwell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry to hear that,” said Fouchard in a sympathetic voice. “Stay here +and rest while we investigate.” +</p> + +<p> +To stay there alone was not at all to Severin’s taste. He pulled +himself together, and averred that the faintness had passed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go first,” said Fouchard. “I want to see if there are any more +footprints.” +</p> + +<p> +So Monsieur Severin insinuated his person between Fouchard and +Wallace, and seemed to be much more at ease. Fouchard kept the beam of +the electric lamp fixed on the ground, but no more footprints came to +view. They came up against a blank wall covered with cobwebs and snail +trails, and the passage took a sharp bend to the left. +</p> + +<p> +“Catacombs!” said Fouchard. “Hello, what is that?” +</p> + +<p> +Stooping down, he picked up a small shining object. It proved to be a +hairpin. +</p> + +<p> +“The third side of the triangle,” he said. “The woman in the case. A +blonde, I fancy.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you arrive at that conclusion?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“It is hypothetical, but I doubt if any woman other than a blonde +would use tortoiseshell hairpins. They do not go well with dark hair. +How many blonde women are there in the establishment, Monsieur +Severin?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can remember only two.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm! We will see them later. I presume that in the ordinary way none +of the female staff would come down here?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard seemed quite delighted with his discovery, and moved forward +at a quicker pace. A series of recesses came to view. Some of them +contained old gardening tools and empty kegs. In one of them Fouchard +noticed a very large wine-barrel standing on its end. +</p> + +<p> +“A fine fellow that,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“It was used as a rain-water tub,” explained Severin. “But it began to +leak and was brought down here six months ago. It is now a receptacle +for empty bottles.” +</p> + +<p> +“My God—look at that!” +</p> + +<p> +The cry came from Conrad, and his finger was pointing to a dark patch +at the base of the huge vessel. A low cry came from Fouchard. In a +moment he pulled aside the covering and flashed the torch inside the +barrel. +</p> + +<p> +“At last,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“You mean——” +</p> + +<p> +“We have found Monsieur Fallières.” +</p> + +<p> +With tense expressions all gazed inside. The late owner of the +château lay on a pile of bottles, face upturned, and his throat cut +from ear to ear. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch07"> +CHAPTER VII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">BERTHA</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Conrad</span> shuddered as he gazed at the limp corpse. Here was all that +remained of their charming host. The man who had done so much for the +Château Grammont now lay in a wine-barrel, drenched in his own blood. +</p> + +<p> +“This is monstrous!” he said. “He was one of the finest gentlemen in +France.” +</p> + +<p> +“My poor master!” almost sobbed Severin. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Yolande!” said Wallace, whose thoughts naturally turned to the +bereaved daughter. +</p> + +<p> +“A savage affair,” mused Fouchard. “The work of a razor if I am not +mistaken. There are some curious anomalies here. The murderer goes to +all the trouble to remove the corpse from the bedroom, performing an +acrobatic feat along the ivy. At tremendous risk he somehow transports +the body through the house, and then he has no more sense than to hide +it here. There were fifty better places. Yes, it is somewhat strange.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where does this woman come in?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I don’t know where our scrubby-bearded masquerader +comes in either. What is most puzzling of all is the motive.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is to be done now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I must get into touch with the local police. So long as it was a mere +disappearance I could act alone, but now murder is obvious I am bound +to notify the local authorities. I am afraid the château will be +bombarded with a lot of dunderheads and journalists.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have to break the news to Yolande. Poor—poor girl,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I think she has accepted the fact already,” said Fouchard. “It must +have been obvious.” +</p> + +<p> +He replaced the top of the barrel, and resumed his investigations. +Nothing new came to light, and ultimately the quartet stood in the +hall of the château. +</p> + +<p> +“Who—who will tell her?” whispered Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“It would come best from you, I think,” replied Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well.” +</p> + +<p> +The exceedingly painful task was carried out. Yolande’s face went as +pale as death, and for a moment she looked as if she would collapse, +but she recovered herself. +</p> + +<p> +“I—I knew it,” she said in a strangled voice. “Thank you—thank you +for all you have done. I—I think I will go to my room now.” +</p> + +<p> +She left them—a pathetic little figure with a vast load of sorrow on +her young head. Wallace bit his lip as she vanished, and felt a queer +lump rise in his throat. Fouchard swung round on Severin whose eyes +were full of tears. +</p> + +<p> +“What of these two blonde women—who are they?” +</p> + +<p> +“One is Thérèse—a chambermaid. She comes from Provence and is +young—not yet eighteen. She has been with us for six months.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fair hair?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Long?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—very short. She looks almost like a boy. I can vouch for her +respectability, monsieur, for she is the daughter of an old friend of +mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the other?” +</p> + +<p> +“An older woman. She is called Bertha, and is Swiss, I believe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Long hair?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, monsieur. A large head of hair, coiled up in plaits. One might +call it red.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! How long has she been here?” +</p> + +<p> +“A month. She was engaged as a parlourmaid.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would like to see this Bertha. Find some excuse to send her in +here. A little cognac might be a good thing after our investigations.” +</p> + +<p> +Severin bowed and went out. Fouchard flung himself into a chair and +bit his finger nails. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not ring up the police now,” he said. “Perhaps you would be +good enough to drive me into Arveyes early in the morning. We can +bring the doctor and the local officer back with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and a woman entered +with cognac and glasses. She was extremely well built and +good-looking. Her age might have been anything between twenty-eight +and thirty-five. Fouchard pretended not to see her, but it was fairly +evident that he had her under observation the whole time. She put the +tray on the table. Fouchard suddenly stared straight at her. +</p> + +<p> +“I seem to remember you, mademoiselle,” he said pleasantly in French. +“Yes, I am sure of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not remember monsieur,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I have a better memory than you. It was at Lyons, I believe. In +a hotel called——” +</p> + +<p> +“You are mistaken. I have never been in Lyons.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is strange. Was it Switzerland?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is true I come from Switzerland, but all the same I think monsieur +is mistaken.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it Geneva?” +</p> + +<p> +“I come from Berne,” she said. “I am Bernois.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard suddenly changed from French into a peculiarly guttural +language. Bertha laughed and made some reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, one can always be mistaken,” said Fouchard. “Pour out the +cognac please.” +</p> + +<p> +While she filled the three glasses Wallace noticed a dexterous +movement of Fouchard’s hand. It was done so swiftly that he did not +realise at the moment what it signified. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Fouchard. “Please leave the decanter.” +</p> + +<p> +She walked majestically from the room, and Fouchard sighed as she +closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +“I am fortunate in being able to speak Swiss-German,” he said. “In +fact, I speak it better than she does. Our charming Bertha was never +born anywhere outside Germany.” +</p> + +<p> +“So she lied?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes—she was compelled to. I like her hairpins too.” +</p> + +<p> +He opened his hand and displayed a hairpin, which with that dexterous +movement which Wallace had observed, he had contrived to extract from +her abundant hair. +</p> + +<p> +“Now we have a beautifully matched pair, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +From his waistcoat pocket he produced the one he had picked up in the +cellar. They were exactly alike. +</p> + +<p> +“That means she——” +</p> + +<p> +“It means we have really made a start. It is a curious thing that +there is nearly always a woman mixed up in any crime or mystery. Some +of them are hard nuts to crack, and Bertha, I imagine, comes into that +category. It was Bertha who heard Monsieur Conrad talking to Paris on +the telephone, and it was Bertha who at once communicated with our +whiskered friend in order that he should delay my arrival. Yet you +probably noticed she was perfectly composed while she was here. A +brazen-faced woman that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty, too,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“The pretty ones are the worst. Excellent cognac this.” +</p> + +<p> +He was now in the best of humours, quite unlike his two companions, +who were not used to such grim situations, and whose minds were +occupied with the awful tragedy that had been enacted so recently. +</p> + +<p> +“It grows late,” said Conrad. “I think I will retire.” +</p> + +<p> +“I too,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I think it would be wise to keep your doors locked,” said Fouchard. +“People who run amok with razors are awkward visitors.” +</p> + +<p> +“A thick-skinned devil,” said Conrad as they walked up the stairs. “He +is just beginning to enjoy himself.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace read for an hour or so in bed, for his brain was far too +active to permit of sleep. His life so far had been singularly free of +unpleasant incidents—apart from the loss of his parents. With ample +means at his disposal, he had enjoyed himself in a healthy, moderate +fashion, and had never troubled to delve into the gloomy side of life. +A murder read about in the papers was not a very exciting business. +One felt too far away from it, the assassin and victim assuming the +rôle of more or less lifeless puppets. They were scarcely more real +to him than Othello or any other character of drama. +</p> + +<p> +The affair at the château aroused very different feelings. +Excitement, sympathy, and repugnance were strangely mixed. Here he was +in the very arena—no longer a spectator, but a participant. There was +danger too, without doubt, or the case-hardened Fouchard would not +have given warning. Despite his lack of “nerves” he could not help +experiencing a certain apprehension. The fear of injury or even +violent death had never crossed his mind. What he loathed was the idea +of being taken unawares, as Fallières had been. If only this phantom +form would come into the open and wage battle! +</p> + +<p> +His eyes wandered from the printed page every few minutes, and his +ears were alert for any strange sound. Then he laughed as he reflected +that with all his youth and strength he was not proof against spectres +born of the nocturnal stillness, and of the tragic and inexplicable +happenings of the past two days. +</p> + +<p> +He slept at last and did not open his eyes until the morning sun +flooded the room. He went to the garage quite early and found Watkins +washing the Hispano car. The chauffeur had already heard of the +discovery of the night before and could talk of nothing else. +</p> + +<p> +“I nearly ran over a black cat on my way back,” he whispered +confidentially. “Is there any clue, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” replied Wallace guardedly. “It is a very sad business.” +</p> + +<p> +He got his own car out and drove it to the main entrance in order to +save time. Conrad came down and intimated that he would stay at the +château while Wallace drove Fouchard into Arveyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Sleep well?” enquired Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Devil a bit. I had awful dreams. Shall you be back to lunch?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose so. It depends how long Fouchard takes to do his business. +Ah, here he comes.” +</p> + +<p> +“All ready?” said Fouchard cheerily. “That’s a very neat little car. +Looks like a thoroughbred.” +</p> + +<p> +“I flatter myself it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let us make a start. I want to get back as soon as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +He seated himself beside Wallace, and the car moved down the drive. It +was a dead straight road to Arveyes, and they entered the dirty little +town in half an hour. The police station was a single room in a +five-story building, and the “gendarmerie” consisted of two men. They +received the famous Fouchard as they might a foreign potentate. +Wallace saw it all through the window, and smiled at the stagelike +gesticulations and the look of blank amazement that followed the +reception of the news. +</p> + +<p> +After some delay, Fouchard appeared with one of the officers. A doctor +was picked up at the end of the narrow street, and Fouchard announced +that he was ready to return. In the back seat the doctor and the +gendarme were in agitated conversation. Wallace overheard snatches +from time to time, though their voluble French was not easy to follow. +</p> + +<p> +“Murdered! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> It will be the talk of the countryside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, monsieur le docteur, the château has a bad reputation. One hears +strange stories. No woman from the village will work there. They +say——” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing like a murder to appeal to the common mind,” whispered +Fouchard. “I warrant that within half an hour every living soul in +Arveyes knows what has happened, and every one of them will have a +theory.” +</p> + +<p> +They were speeding along the straight road at a fine rate when Wallace +noticed a car approaching. As the road was narrow he slowed down in +order to pass without undue risk. It was when the other car was within +fifty yards that Fouchard uttered a loud ejaculation. His eyes were +riveted on the driver of it, and Wallace suddenly realised why. It was +the little man who had masqueraded as Fouchard on the day before. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” said Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +But Wallace had already jammed on the brakes. He looked for some place +to turn the car, but there was none. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll lose him if I go on. I am going to risk turning here,” he said. +“Lean over to the right.” +</p> + +<p> +He put the car on full lock and took the sloping bank. The wheels +mounted until the car was at a fearful angle, and the passengers went +pallid, but he knew the lock to an inch and the wheels came down to +the horizontal plane, with the bonnet of the car facing the +disappearing vehicle. Two quick gear changes and he was in “top” and +treading on the accelerator. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve got him now, I guess,” he said. “Hold tight!” +</p> + +<p> +The note of the exhaust rose higher and higher, and Fouchard saw the +speedometer needle register fifty—fifty-five—sixty, sixty-five, +seventy. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Mon Dieu!</i>” he gasped. +</p> + +<p> +Still the hand moved round, but slower than before. +</p> + +<p> +“What are we doing?” asked Wallace whose eyes were on the road. +</p> + +<p> +“Seventy-four—seventy-six.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought it was child’s play,” he growled. “Gosh, I don’t know what +he has got there, but I can’t gain an inch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Seventy-eight,” said Fouchard. “He has taken the road for Lefroy. +Take care—it is a bad turning.” +</p> + +<p> +The speedometer needle made a rapid movement backwards, and Wallace +took the bend at fifty. Far ahead of him was the fugitive car. He +fumbled with the controls, determined not to be beaten. A little less +air and a touch on the ignition control brought the best from the +willing engine. Eighty miles an hour was reached, and then eighty-two. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got her all out,” he shouted. “I can’t get another mile from +her. And I’m damned if we are gaining.” +</p> + +<p> +“If only I had got his number,” moaned Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“There are some binoculars in the pocket—your side. They are good +ones. I’ll hang on while you get the number.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard dived for the pocket. In a few seconds the glasses were at +his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Got it!” he cried triumphantly. “You can let him go now.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s going,” replied Wallace dismally. “He is five miles an hour +better at least. Why, the thing looked like a transmogrified Ford. +This is the saddest day of my life.” +</p> + +<p> +At the next turning he put the car round and ambled to the château at +a respectable “forty.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch08"> +CHAPTER VIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">SUSPENSE</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">A few</span> days later Monsieur Fallières’s body was laid to rest in the +little cemetery behind the chapel. A verdict of murder by person or +persons unknown was brought in, and the whole French Press was full of +the strange story. As Fouchard had prognosticated, the château was +bombarded with reporters eagerly seeking for more details. +</p> + +<p> +“Have nothing to do with those fellows,” said Fouchard. “They’ll twist +anything you say to make a new story. It is a pity the thing has +become public property.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are the local police doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“They have left the case to Paris. It is more or less in my hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about the car we chased?” asked Wallace. “Have you made any +enquiries?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But the number was a false one. It happened to be the number of +a big Renault owned by a respectable lawyer in Paris. These people are +leaving nothing to chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Bertha?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not done with Bertha yet. She needs careful watching. If I +arrested her we should defeat our own ends. I rely upon Bertha to lead +us to the solution. Mademoiselle is sending her on an errand this +afternoon—during which time I shall break into her room and interest +myself in her belongings.” +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime Yolande was making a brave attempt to rise above her +bereavement. Strangely enough, she did not go into full mourning, but +merely changed from her light summer attire into a darker dress. +</p> + +<p> +“It was always my father’s wish,” she explained. “He held strong +opinions on the subject. Death he regarded as a mere change—a +stepping-stone into a freer existence. He would not have wished me to +wear mourning.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are wonderful,” said Wallace admiringly. “I know how deep was +your affection. I shall never be happy until I know that your father +is avenged.” +</p> + +<p> +“I only want justice, not vengeance,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t you come for a walk? It is a beautiful morning and the woods +afford some shelter from this sweltering sun.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I should like to.” +</p> + +<p> +He found a walking stick and they left the château, taking the +footpath that led to the higher land. On the previous day all the +woodmen had joined the police in beating the whole district, but all +to no purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“It was good of you to stay,” she said. “It has been a great comfort +having friends at hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was generous of you to accommodate us. We had no fixed programme +and had made arrangements to be away a month. Only a week has yet +passed, although it seems thrice as long.” +</p> + +<p> +“I fear you must have seen quite enough of the château by this time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit. It is quite a novelty staying here, and—and I want to +help—if I can.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have helped already by your companionship. Look, there is Jacques +Renan’s little girl picking flowers. She is a sweet child.” +</p> + +<p> +The little mite in the print dress turned her head and saw the +approaching pair. She ran forward with her hands full of fragrant +flowers and offered them to Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Merci, ma petite</i>,” she said, and lifted the child in her arms to +kiss the dimpled cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“How pretty she is,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“S-sh! You must not make her vain.” +</p> + +<p> +“But she does not understand English?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think any woman understands a compliment, no matter in what tongue +it is spoken. How I envy these peasants! They have no great château +to trouble about—no conspiracies against their existence.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how they envy you,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Only because they do not know that wealth is nothing in itself. +Jacques chops and sells his logs. He has a comfortable home and a good +wife. They have health and strength—and love.” +</p> + +<p> +“Love is denied no one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it not? You forget that I have lost the one I loved most in the +world.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had not forgotten. How could I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me,” she said. “That was an undeserved rebuke.” +</p> + +<p> +“How well you speak English,” he said. “I wish I could hope to speak +French half as well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you must marry a French woman,” she said. “It is the only way +the English ever get to speak French. Shall I introduce you to a nice +girl I know?” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed, for he was pleased that she could indulge in banter at +such a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not a marrying man,” he said. “I fear I have caught the +complaint from Conrad.” +</p> + +<p> +She kissed the child again and put her on her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you lend me a franc?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +He produced the coin, and she slipped it into the child’s hand and +told her to buy bonbons. +</p> + +<p> +“Would that we could purchase happiness so easily,” she sighed. +</p> + +<p> +They walked on through the leafy vista, with birds carolling on all +sides. In an open space they saw Jacques cutting logs with his queer +little hand-saw—a narrow strip of metal fixed in a frame that was +like an elongated fret-saw. He raised his hat as he saw Yolande, and +begged to offer her his condolences. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Jacques!” she said. “I hope your wife is well.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Elle va bien</i>,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“A splendid man,” she said to Wallace. “He rose to the rank of captain +in the war. But he is very modest of his achievements, and never +mentions them.” +</p> + +<p> +For two hours they roamed through the woody glades, and Wallace got a +new insight into the character of Yolande. Mistress of the château +and the vast forest lands, she was at heart the simplest woman on +earth. He told himself that many a girl of her years would have +suffered from a sense of her own importance, for there was no doubt +that she was fabulously rich. But all her interest was in the simpler +things of life—the birds and flowers with which the forest abounded, +in cities and towns that she had visited, and people she had met, at +school and elsewhere. +</p> + +<p> +“So you are an engineer?” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope to be. As yet I fear I am an encumbrance.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not believe it. But it must be splendid to make things that +work. If I were a boy I should beg you to take me as an apprentice. I +suppose if every woman had the choice of sex almost all would choose +to be men.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very fortunate they have no such option.” +</p> + +<p> +“You like women?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t get on with them, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will never believe that.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is true. The only girl I ever got to know intimately told me I was +an insufferable prig. Probably there was a great amount of truth in +it. Connie was present at the time, and thought it was the greatest +joke on earth. She had asked me how I liked her dress and I said it +was awful.” +</p> + +<p> +Her laughter rang through the woods, but she stopped it quickly, as if +she were ashamed to give vent to amusement at such a time. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s good to hear you laugh,” he said softly. “Connie said he +remembered you as one who was always laughing—always merry. You are +going to be merry again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” she said. “How frank you are, and how good to want to cheer +me up when I need it so much.” +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes were turned on him and he felt their full power. Since he was +a stripling he had persuaded himself that women were creatures of +another world so far as he was concerned—that he had small interest +in them. Now this dark-eyed Yolande was undermining that conclusion. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall be decorated for your bravery in telling a woman that her +dress was awful,” she said, and, detaching a flower from the bunch +which the child had given her, she slipped it into his buttonhole. +There came a mad desire to kiss the white hand that lay so near his +cheek, but he had not the courage to do so. +</p> + +<p> +Then the white turrets of the château came to view, and banter and +pleasant repartee were at an end. They seemed to spell tragedy as they +reared themselves above the stately pile, and the ivy-clad one on the +northern corner was more than ever brooding. Fair as this picture was, +to Wallace it seemed like a blot on the landscape, for it was sapping +the happiness of the girl beside him. Somewhere within those walls +that had withstood many a siege, and seen many a strange sight, was an +evil thing. It had to be expelled by some means or other, but as yet +success seemed far away. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +That afternoon Fouchard carried out his project of examining Bertha’s +room. He spent about half an hour there, and when he came down his +face revealed the fact that the search had not been entirely vain. +</p> + +<p> +“I found a letter,” he confessed. “It does not throw a great deal of +light on the subject, but it is interesting and I made a copy of it. +The original was in German, but I knew enough of the language to +translate it. Here it is.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace and Conrad bent over the sheet of paper. It was dated a +fortnight previous and written from a place called Steyn, near +Nuremberg. Fouchard’s writing was abominable, but between them they +managed to get the sense of it. +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“<span class="sc">Dear Bertha</span>—<i>So there are foundations for your suspicions. It +seems incredible to me. I am applying for a passport, and should be +with you in a few days. It looks as if we may require Heinrich’s help, +but he is in Berlin at the moment. I am writing him telling him the +whole story, and asking him to follow as soon as possible.</i> +</p> + +<p class="rt1"> +“<span class="sc">Niels</span>.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“This settles the question of Bertha’s nationality,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“There was never any doubt about that. The point is—who is Niels? +Presumably, he is the little man with the whiskers. Heinrich has +apparently not arrived yet. I wonder what their game is? What were +Bertha’s suspicions, and why is Niels incredulous?” +</p> + +<p> +“The circle grows,” said Wallace. “First it was merely the Monster. +Then came Niels, then Bertha, now Heinrich. We have Bertha under +observation, but the others are yet free agents.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unfortunately, Bertha is fully aware of the danger—of the fact that +she is being watched. She will never reveal her hand in these +circumstances. I think it will be necessary for you two gentlemen to +bid adieu to the château and for me to return to Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” ejaculated Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“A sham departure. Once these conspirators believe the coast is clear +they will get to work again. An immediate departure would be too +obvious. I shall receive a telegram from Paris in a day or two +purporting to call me back. You two might notify your intention of +taking the road again. Domestic servants are notorious publicity +agents, and everyone in the house will get to know our intentions +immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what then?” asked Conrad. “Personally, I hate the idea of leaving +mademoiselle just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think she is in any great danger.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Fallières was murdered.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we will confide in mademoiselle and ask her to join us in +flight. It would be quite natural for her to want a change of scenery +after that sanguinary affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what do you propose to do exactly?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall take the train from Arveyes and get out at the next station. +I suggest that you should pick me up there in your car. We can then +motor back to the forest. I have discovered an excellent vantage point +at the top of Mont des Pins. Severin must aid us in this. If there are +any strange movements in the house, he will switch on a red light +which I shall fix in one of the windows. The road runs immediately +below the Mont des Pins. You can motor us to the château in two +minutes. If Niels is in the house we ought to be able to prevent his +escape.” +</p> + +<p> +“That sounds hopeful,” said Wallace. “You think Niels will come +immediately he gets to know of our departure?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do. Otherwise what is he doing in the neighbourhood?” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande was apprised of the scheme, and fell in with it at once. But +while this was being put into operation Fouchard carried out a project +which he had had in mind for some days. A new sideboard with a large +mirror above it was brought into the château and placed in the +dining-hall. Severin gaped when he saw it. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur, it is madness,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard laughed and walked out with Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“It is mere curiosity,” he said. “Because I can’t fit in that part of +the business with any theory. What does the breaking of mirrors +signify?” +</p> + +<p> +“What does it all signify?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard had not long to wait for a response to his test. They had not +gone to bed for more than an hour when there was a tremendous crash +from downstairs. It brought Fouchard and Wallace into the corridor at +once. +</p> + +<p> +“The mirror,” said Fouchard grimly. “This is the very devil.” +</p> + +<p> +He leapt down the stairs three at a time, with Wallace close behind. +The latter had forgotten his pistol, but Fouchard was prepared. He +held the black Browning in his hand, and made for the door of the +dining-hall. As he opened it something tremendously big and awful +broke through it. Fouchard was flung off his feet and hit his head +violently against the skirting. Wallace, all unprepared for this +astonishing attack, was hit a sickening blow in the jaw. He fell on +his knees over Fouchard’s sprawling body and groaned with pain. When +he regained his full senses the big form had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Sacré!</i>” ejaculated Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace scrambled to his feet and dashed madly along the passage. But +at the end he halted, for dead silence reigned. He came back to +Fouchard feeling savage and humiliated. +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t expecting it,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard pulled his coat tighter and rubbed his damaged head. His +habitual calm was gone, and he looked as savage as a tiger. +</p> + +<p> +“Like a damned cyclone,” he muttered. “How does he get here? Where +does he live?” +</p> + +<p> +He pushed open the door of the dining-hall, which had swung to in the +scuffle. The new mirror was smashed to fragments, and on the floor was +a beautiful chair with a leg torn from it. The severed leg lay on the +top of the sideboard. +</p> + +<p> +“This is no ordinary creature,” said Fouchard in an awed voice. “There +are not six men alive who could have done that. Broken off as if it +were a matchstick!” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch09"> +CHAPTER IX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">COUNTERPLOT</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Despite</span> the unexpected incident of the mirror Fouchard was still +keen on carrying out his project, for a further search of the château +failed to locate the hiding-place of the strange being in the monkish +robe. +</p> + +<p> +“If Bertha and her friends are working in concert with that creature, +there is every hope we may find them together,” he said. “Failing +this, I may be successful in bagging Niels.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if you consider it advisable to give Bertha a length of rope, why +not Niels?” asked Conrad. “I fear you are rather inconsistent, +Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard laughed harshly. There was logic in Conrad’s remark, and the +detective was obviously a trifle nettled. He did not like to admit +that his personal vanity was the dominating counsellor. Bertha might +have a little run, but not the man who had worsted him and carried out +the successful masquerade. After all, he was very human. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose nothing happens, and Severin sends no signal,” suggested +Wallace. “Are you proposing that we should camp on the Mont des Pins +indefinitely?” +</p> + +<p> +“Something will happen,” he snapped impatiently. “Those people will +waste no time. I have taken Severin into my confidence. There was no +alternative, and I believe he is absolutely trustworthy. He is going +to watch Bertha’s movements from the time we leave the château. It is +understood you leave to-morrow. I shall be called away the same +evening, and mademoiselle will decide to accompany me as far as Paris. +The train leaves Arveyes at 6.25 and should arrive at Moselle round +about seven o’clock. Mademoiselle and I will alight there, and shall +expect to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll be there,” promised Wallace. “I suppose it is necessary to go +as far as Moselle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely. The train will be watched at Arveyes if I am any judge of +Bertha’s mentality.” +</p> + +<p> +The plan was carried out to the letter. There were quite pathetic +farewells on the following morning, just before the Bentley moved out +of the drive. Old Severin was given some money and told to distribute +it among the staff, not forgetting Bertha. Stowed away in the car were +blankets and provisions, in case no sign came from Severin on the +first night. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if anything will come of it?” mused Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard seems to think so. Let us pray that it will not rain +to-night. It would not be very pleasant camping out in a deluge. I +shall suggest dropping Yolande at a hotel.” +</p> + +<p> +“She wouldn’t hear of it. She is just as keen as we are to get to the +bottom of the mystery, and wants to be in at the kill, so to speak.” +</p> + +<p> +“How far is this place—Moselle?” +</p> + +<p> +“I make it, thirty-odd miles.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve got the whole day to waste.” +</p> + +<p> +“I propose we run into Rheims. I have need of some decent +tobacco—<i>tabac de luxe</i>, as they call it here.” +</p> + +<p> +“We must not miss that train whatever happens.” +</p> + +<p> +“We won’t miss it.” +</p> + +<p> +They thereupon made a speed burst for Rheims and arrived there in good +time for an early lunch. It was Conrad’s first sight of the city since +the days of the war, when it had been a pitiful wreck. He was +astonished to discover a new city. There were streets and streets of +fine stone buildings, and scarcely any sign of the ravages of war. The +scarred cathedral was in process of renovation, and the whole place +was completely changed. +</p> + +<p> +“No wonder the French want indemnities,” he said. “This must have cost +a nice pile of money.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably explains why there is no unemployment in France.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, reconstruction—and the big army. It’s difficult here to realise +what we have experienced this last week. I am beginning to think it +was all a dream.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish it were,” said Wallace. “But that big shape that nearly gave +me the count was not part of any dream. Fouchard is dying to meet +Niels face to face, but I would willingly kiss Niels if I could only +meet the phantom.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you won’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“He has too great a love for naked razors. No, this is no time for +heroics. We are up against big things, and I don’t like the look of it +at all. Of course, you are young and aching for any kind of +excitement, but I’ve had my full share and more. I want to take you +back to England intact.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace laughed as he finished his coffee. He felt that so far he had +had no run for his money. The other side had scored all the points. +</p> + +<p> +“Curious thing how Fate works,” he mused. “A fortnight ago I had no +idea there was such a place as the Château Grammont, nor such a +person as Yolande Fallières. I thought we were going drifting across +France in haphazard fashion until we got sick of it and returned to +the roast beef of old England. Now here we are as deeply embroiled in +this perplexing mystery as if we were first cousins of Fallières. +What impresses me most is the courage of Yolande.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad shot him a swift glance, for there was a curious softness in +his voice as he mentioned Yolande. He was now staring through the +window with eyes that were apparently focused on nothing in +particular. Conrad thought he understood, but like a wise man he said +nothing. +</p> + +<p> +They left the city an hour later, and drove easily in the direction of +Arveyes and Moselle. They were obliged to pass through the forest +again, but were enabled to give the château a fairly wide berth. +Wallace discovered that his fan-belt wanted tightening, and Conrad got +out of the car while the adjustment was being made. Lying just off the +road was a kind of disused mine with a man cracking rock close by. He +tried his French on the workman, and was told that twenty years ago +tin was discovered there. A certain quantity was mined, but in less +than two years the valuable metal petered out and the business was +abandoned. They chatted for a few minutes and then Wallace sounded his +horn. +</p> + +<p> +“All serene!” he cried. “We’d better take the turning to the left, for +we are not far from the château.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad agreed, and the journey was continued. They reached Moselle far +too early, and spent an hour in walking round the old town, which had +some wonderful architecture to display. The train, to their +astonishment, arrived punctually, and Fouchard and Yolande alighted +from it. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are!” said Fouchard. “Bertha wasn’t risking anything. At the +booking-office there was rather a queer fellow behind me. I had the +sense to take tickets to Paris. A wicked waste of money, but it had to +be done.” +</p> + +<p> +“I almost wished I were going to Paris,” said Yolande. “But Paris will +keep. Are we going straight back now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Fouchard. “I suggest taking the other route in order to +miss Arveyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You direct me,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +In an hour they were on the road close to the Mont des Pins. Wallace +drove the car as far into the shelter of the trees as was possible, +and looked to Fouchard for instructions. +</p> + +<p> +“We must watch in turn,” said the detective. “From the top of the hill +the château is clearly visible. Severin has placed a red-shaded +electric lamp on a table by the third window on the first floor. If +that lights up it means we are wanted at the château. It is now eight +o’clock. I propose to take first spell. If one of you would relieve me +at about one o’clock it would leave but three hours before daylight.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Let us share up the time fairly,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +But Fouchard was obdurate. He was not in the least tired, he averred, +and if necessary he was quite prepared to watch the whole night. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take a few sandwiches and a bottle of wine,” he added. “This +path leads direct to the summit.” +</p> + +<p> +He thereupon left them, and Wallace commenced to prepare a meal. +Fortunately the night was warm and there was no sign of wind. Under +the light of an inspection lamp they made quite a good meal. Later, +Yolande was tucked in the back seat with some rugs round her and urged +to sleep. +</p> + +<p> +“I could not sleep for anything in the world,” she said. “It is good +to be in the fresh air. The odour of the pines is wonderful.” +</p> + +<p> +For some time they talked about anything but the business at hand. +Despite Yolande’s assertion she fell into a doze, while the two men +smoked immoderately. It was nearly midnight when Fouchard came running +down the path. +</p> + +<p> +“The signal has come,” he said. “There is not a minute to spare.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace uttered a low hiss of excitement and entered the car +immediately. Fouchard and Conrad followed, and Yolande was awakened +from her slumbers by the starting of the engine. +</p> + +<p> +“Are we— Severin has signalled?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +The car moved over the uneven ground on to the road. A moment later it +was speeding towards the château. The downhill stretch of road was +covered at a tremendous speed, and in a few minutes the car pulled up +outside the lodge. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop the engine,” said Fouchard. “It may be heard.” +</p> + +<p> +The gate was closed, but a pull on the bell brought the lodge-keeper +from his bed. He blinked to behold the party. +</p> + +<p> +“Open the gate, Pierre,” said Yolande. “Quick, and make no noise.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Oui</i>, mademoiselle.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better stay with Pierre,” said Fouchard. “This time I +insist.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take care,” whispered Yolande, as they left her in Pierre’s keeping. +“There is danger, I fear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Danger for Niels and company,” growled Fouchard, as he moved forward +in the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace and Conrad followed, and the trio soon arrived outside the +château. A vague form came running towards them. It turned out to be +Severin. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened?” asked Fouchard. “Speak quickly, and softly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I watched the woman carefully, monsieur. I think she signalled from +her bedroom soon after you had left. She came down later and stayed in +the servants’ hall. At ten she went to bed. I hid myself in a linen +cupboard close to her room, and at twelve o’clock she opened her door +and went down the stairs. I followed and saw her open the door and let +in two men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Two!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, monsieur. It was too dark to see who they were, but I heard one +say, ‘Heinrich has just arrived—most fortunate.’ ” +</p> + +<p> +“Go on.” +</p> + +<p> +“They all went along the passage, and a little later I heard the door +of the cellar squeak. It is the only door that does that. I crept +along, but did not see them.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean they are in the cellar now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long have they been there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not two minutes. I ran straight back here, because I saw the lights +of the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! There is no other way out of the vaults?” +</p> + +<p> +“None.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I fancy we have them. Come!” +</p> + +<p> +They hurried along the passage and soon reached the entrance to the +cellar. Severin pushed open the door carefully to prevent its habitual +squeak. +</p> + +<p> +“Are we to come?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Just as you wish—but tread lightly.” +</p> + +<p> +They followed him down the stairs, Severin bringing up the rear. +</p> + +<p> +“Lock that door,” whispered Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I have done so,” replied Severin. +</p> + +<p> +The place was in pitch darkness, but a whispered message to Severin +brought a flood of light. Simultaneously a voice yelled “<i>Achtung</i>,” +and a burly figure was seen blocking their path. Fouchard whipped out +his pistol. +</p> + +<p> +“Move an inch and I fire!” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +Then out went all the lights and there was a scampering of feet. +Wallace produced the pocket-torch which he had brought with him, and +flashed it. He saw the form of their late obstructor vanishing around +a corner and Fouchard a few yards behind him. Then there was a flash +and a loud report mingled with a groan of pain. The torch revealed the +fugitive on the ground with Fouchard leaning over him. +</p> + +<p> +“Watch that door!” yelled Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace ran back, but on rounding the end arch and flashing his light, +perceived that the door was open. He ran up the stairs and stood +listening. For a few seconds there was no sound, and then he heard an +engine start up, and cursed under his breath. It was evident that +Niels had flown and that Bertha had got safely to her room. Severin +was not the only man who had a key to the cellar! +</p> + +<p> +He repaired to the cellar again and found Fouchard with his victim. +</p> + +<p> +“They got away,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Damn! One of them had a duplicate key. We’ve muddled this badly. One +of us ought to have stayed upstairs. The wire has been cut somewhere. +Take your torch and see if you can— No, it would take too long. Help +me with this fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +They got the wounded man on to his feet and piloted him upstairs. +Fouchard led the way into the library and the prisoner was put into a +chair. He proved to be a comparatively young man of powerful build, +and he was in considerable pain, for Fouchard’s bullet had lodged in +his leg. The detective fastened two handkerchiefs together and made a +temporary bandage. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, friend Heinrich, you won’t hurt for a bit,” he said grimly. “I +think I will have a look in your pockets.” +</p> + +<p> +The result of his search was a wallet containing money and some +visiting cards, some business letters, and a pipe. He hunted for a +weapon, but found none. +</p> + +<p> +“Lucky for you, my friend,” he said. “A revolver would have got you +five years.” +</p> + +<p> +Severin came forward with a small slip of paper in his hand. He had +found it in the cellar, he said. Fouchard pursed his lips as he +perused it. It contained some figures and a name: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="center"> +27<br> +31<br> +36<br> +Steinbech +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“A key to something,” he mused. Then turning to Heinrich. “Now, my +friend, perhaps you would like to explain what you are doing in this +place?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think?” asked Heinrich coolly. +</p> + +<p> +“What I think may have a considerable effect upon the sentence you +will get,” snapped Fouchard. “It is not nice for a young fellow like +you to be implicated in a savage murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“You go too fast. It may interest you to know that a few hours ago I +was across the frontier. I can produce a passport to prove that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your passport won’t help you much. You are in a pretty tight fix, and +I advise you to tell the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +Heinrich smiled and shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“You have caught me—like a thief. What explanation do you expect me +to make?” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you come to steal?” +</p> + +<p> +“What is there to steal in a wine-cellar?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t answer me back like that,” Fouchard thundered. “You are in +league with certain other people. You will find that a French prison +is not a very comfortable abode. Tell me what I want to know and I may +make things easier for you. What do these figures mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is simple,” replied Heinrich. “I dropped that slip of paper. It +is a system for winning money at roulette. I proposed to visit Monte +Carlo during my stay in France. A friend was good enough to furnish me +with this admirable system.” +</p> + +<p> +“You amazing liar!” roared Fouchard. “Do you think I am so ignorant of +roulette that I could swallow such a story? There is no system there. +What does ‘Steinbech’ mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a code word for my bank to wire me money if I should need +more than my present small capital. Of course the system fails at +times—at least it calls for more——” +</p> + +<p> +“Silence! Enough of this fooling. I am not in the mood for it. You are +resolved to keep your mouth closed?” +</p> + +<p> +Heinrich’s expression changed to one of great seriousness. He winced +as he moved his injured leg. +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing to say,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. I will ring for the police to come and take charge of +you.” +</p> + +<p> +He left the room to go to the telephone. Wallace could not but admire +the fortitude of the man, faced as he was with his loss of liberty for +a considerable period. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you give us a hint,” he said. “You don’t look like a +criminal, and there has been murder committed here.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I could help you I would, but I am pledged to secrecy. All I say +is ‘take care.’ There is greater danger here than you imagine.” +</p> + +<p> +Nothing would wring another word from him, and half an hour later the +local police called and took him away. +</p> + +<p> +“So much for my ruse,” sighed Fouchard. “There is a lot hidden in this +piece of paper if one only had the wit to understand it.” +</p> + +<p> +“The figures are undoubtedly a key to something,” said Conrad. +“Something they are dead keen on finding. How to apply them is the +problem. Then the name ‘Steinbech.’ What can that possibly imply?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard shrugged his shoulders. He had the sense to see that nothing +in this world would make Heinrich divulge what he knew. The figures +were puzzling because they might refer to a thousand different things. +Their very simplicity magnified the difficulties. +</p> + +<p> +“It is like shoving at nothing,” he averred. “Would you kindly go and +escort mademoiselle back, monsieur. There is nothing more to be done +to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace was delighted to carry out this task. He told Yolande exactly +what had happened, and she shook her head in bewildered fashion. The +picture of Heinrich and that of the Monster with his murderous razor +did not harmonize at all. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch10"> +CHAPTER X.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THEORIES</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Fouchard</span> was busy early the next morning pacing out the cellar, and +counting flagstones in every direction. He eventually came up looking +nettled and out of temper. +</p> + +<p> +“Any luck?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“None. I’ve juggled with those figures until I am tired. I’ve applied +them in half a hundred ways, and they lead me to a dead end every +time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps they have nothing to do with this case.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll stake my life they have. Those people went to the cellar last +night with a definite object in view. These figures form the key to +what they wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be of considerable value to cause them to take so much +trouble. Anyway, how do you link this up with the murder of +Fallières?” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no link—yet. I don’t know what part the phantom plays. It +is possible that he, too, is after the same thing as the other party.” +</p> + +<p> +“But there is evidence that he has been active for years.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? If this unknown thing is of great value, a desperate +criminal would spend half his life trying to locate it. He apparently +has a way of getting into this house that is unknown to the other +gang—even to us. This man is a killer, while the others are merely +crooks. But Bertha and her friends know of this man.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think so?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am positive. Now it looks as if Niels and Bertha have scored over +the assassin and discovered a clue.” +</p> + +<p> +“You refer to the figures?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. If we could apply them correctly we should at least get down to +motives.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t agree,” said Conrad. “What conceivable motive could there be +in the murder of Fallières in his own room?” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose the Monster was there all the time. Suppose he had climbed in +and hidden himself. When he believed Fallières was asleep he tries to +escape. Fallières wakes up and takes the pistol from under his +pillow. He shoots, and the intruder silences him with the razor.” +</p> + +<p> +“A good story, but it doesn’t satisfy me. There is the breaking of +mirrors to be accounted for, the befouling of the place, the cries +that are heard——” +</p> + +<p> +“A plan to scare the occupants in order that this strange man may have +greater freedom to search for what he is after.” +</p> + +<p> +But Conrad shook his head. It was all too far-fetched to his way of +thinking. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear sir,” said Fouchard, “you are welcome to the alternative +theory—that of a ghost, a discarnate soul engaged in haunting the +scenes of his earthly existence. The servants believe that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am content to keep an open mind,” retorted Conrad. “I think if we +were honest we should admit that we have no clues of any real value. I +mean so far as they concern motives.” +</p> + +<p> +“I agree,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard walked out in a huff, but a few minutes later he was called +to the telephone, where he received news that caused him to be even +more annoyed. They overheard him carrying on in extremely rapid +French, telling the man at the other end that he was nothing but an +idiot, who deserved to be discharged immediately. He strode into the +room and glared at Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“For a pack of unadulterated idiots I commend you to the provincial +police,” he said. “They have let that fellow escape.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not really!” +</p> + +<p> +“They put him into the lock-up all right, but apparently there has +been no prisoner there for about five years. The window was barred, +but the bricks and mortar were rotten. Well, he managed to get out +despite his game leg. Now they are going to start rushing all over the +country, as if their feeble intellects could be matched against those +crooks. Well, we shall see him again.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are optimistic.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know these birds. Nothing will put them off the scent. They will +bide their time and come creeping here again. I’d give five years of +my life to know what it is they are after.” +</p> + +<p> +He wandered off to make a new tour of discovery, and the worthy +Watkins came in to report that he had found the trouble with the +lights in the cellar. The wire had been cut clean through. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t like that place,” he confided. “I always feel cold down the +spine when I go down there. This is a terrible place for lighting +troubles. Fuses go by the dozen, and blessed if I know why. It’s the +worst system I’ve ever struck.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace had promised to accompany Yolande to Rheims in her car, and +looked forward to driving the enormous Hispano, which she had agreed +he should do. +</p> + +<p> +“Careful with the throttle,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m always careful.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad had also been invited, but somehow he felt that these two would +have a better time without him. After their departure he went to the +library to find a book to read. While he was there Bertha came in to +dust the place. She apologised, and made to leave, but he told her +there was no need, as he would be gone in a few minutes. She thereupon +commenced her duties. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Fallières must have been a great reader,” he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“He was,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a terrible loss to mademoiselle.” +</p> + +<p> +He was curious to see how she would take this. Her equanimity was +wonderful. She shook her head sadly, and was not afraid to meet his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I am more than sorry for her,” she said. “She is a most considerate +mistress, and loved monsieur deeply.” +</p> + +<p> +“The affair is most mysterious. It invests the place with a bad +atmosphere.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does indeed. I fear that two of the maids will be leaving this +week. Most of the servants are badly frightened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you not frightened?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a little nervous—at nights,” she said. “Some of the maids make +it worse by talking about it too much. I heard that you and Monsieur +Wallace had also gone, but I am glad it was not true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why are you glad?” he asked with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“On mademoiselle’s account. She needs company just now. She is brave +to stay here at all after—after such a terrible affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are right,” he said. “She is courageous.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a long pause, during which he selected a book from the case. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think Monsieur Fouchard has any hopes of discovering the +murderer?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard is never without hope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! He looks clever.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is much cleverer than he looks. I fancy that very soon we shall +hear satisfactory news—something that will explain everything.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so,” she said. “This would be a beautiful place if only all +the strange happenings would cease. I pray that the day will soon +come.” +</p> + +<p> +He left the library feeling that she was the most consummate natural +actress he had ever met, and the biggest hypocrite. Her soft tongue +literally rang with sincerity, and yet it was but a few hours since +she had escaped from the cellar. She prayed for the day when the +trouble would pass from the Château Grammont! Of all the +impudence—— +</p> + +<p> +Taking a seat on the terrace, he started to read the book. It was in +French, and a personal narrative of the war in Champagne. Its chief +interest lay in the fact that it covered the battle-front in the +neighbourhood of the château, some of which he was acquainted with. +For two hours he beguiled the time pleasantly enough. Then Fouchard +returned, looking hot and tired. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve had a long walk,” he said. “Nothing like a walk to blow the +cobwebs from one’s brain. I wonder if one could get an <i>apéritif</i>? We +will try.” +</p> + +<p> +He rang the bell, and Severin appeared. Conrad seldom took any +refreshment before lunch, but Fouchard asked for a mixed vermouth with +a piece of citron and Severin grinned pleasantly and said he would +bring it <i>tout suite</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“Severin looks quite merry this morning,” mused Fouchard. “I thought +he was going to crack up.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is pretty tough.” +</p> + +<p> +“He needs to be. You know, I have a good mind to arrest Bertha and +charge her with the murder of Fallières.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad closed his book and stared at Fouchard incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“Arrest Bertha!” +</p> + +<p> +“A mere ruse. I could put her in a very awkward position. In France +the criminal code is very different from that of England. Bertha would +be judged guilty until she was able to prove her innocence. What would +she and her friends do when they realised that the gallows were in the +background? Why, reveal their hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you know they are innocent.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suspect they are. But if such an act provided a short cut, it would +be justified.” +</p> + +<p> +Severin entered with two bottles and a glass. Fouchard watched him as +he poured out the drink. +</p> + +<p> +“You are looking sprightly this morning, Monsieur Severin,” he said. +“Is it perchance your birthday?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, monsieur, but one must not always be gloomy. I am glad because I +think we are nearing a period of peace and quiet.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“The moon has passed the full, monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth are you talking about?” +</p> + +<p> +“All the disturbances that have happened here have taken place round +about the full moon. I have remarked upon it so many times.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well I’m blessed! There is no limit to superstition. Can you beat +that, Mr. Conrad?” +</p> + +<p> +“It certainly is an extraordinary assertion,” returned Conrad. “Akin +to the belief that ghosts cease to walk when the cock crows. But do +you seriously believe that, Severin?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot help it, monsieur. I have observed the fact so many times. +Was not Monsieur Fallières murdered on the very night of the full +moon?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is true, but it might have happened any night.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not,” he replied stubbornly. “We shall hear little more from +the phantom for three weeks or so. You are sure you will not join +Monsieur Fouchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure.” +</p> + +<p> +Severin departed, and Fouchard laughed as he raised his glass. +</p> + +<p> +“A quaint old man,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose there is nothing in it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Old women’s talk. What on earth has the full moon to do with these +remarkable happenings?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have certainly heard similar opinions expressed. In fact, we had a +curious fellow in my own regiment who swore that the moon had a +strange effect upon him. Certainly he behaved in an extraordinary +fashion at those periods. His bewitching took the form of insobriety. +At all other times he was a most moderate drinker.” +</p> + +<p> +“Astrological nonsense! Science would not countenance such a +possibility.” +</p> + +<p> +“Science isn’t infallible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing is. Wonderful stuff this! Fallières knew where to procure +the finest wines and spirits. No, monsieur, with all due respect to +your story about your military friend, I cannot swallow such a +hypothesis. Severin would have us believe that the Monster sleeps for +three solid weeks, and wakes up when the moon is approaching the full. +Then he roams at large with a razor in his pocket, cutting throats and +breaking mirrors. Moonshine, my dear sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps. But in this world it is never wise to be too dogmatic. I +hope you won’t carry out that ruse you mentioned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Bertha? I am sorely tempted.” +</p> + +<p> +“It wouldn’t work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“She would guess your object immediately, and you would kill the goose +that lays the golden egg. Your first scheme was the correct one. Give +her plenty of rope, and watch her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know, but my trouble is that I am an exceedingly busy man. At any +moment I may be recalled to Paris. What have I to report? I have found +a paper that I cannot decipher. I have arrested a man and lost him +again. I have actually seen the queer creature who I am convinced +murdered Fallières. But everything is in pieces. I cannot coordinate +things at all. I have attained a certain amount of fame, deservedly or +undeservedly, and I will confess that my successes have all been due +to finding the motive first. Where is the motive here?” +</p> + +<p> +“It certainly is vague.” +</p> + +<p> +“Vague! It is absent. Now, according to Severin, I must wait until the +next full moon before the dominating character in this conspiracy +reveals himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t patience one of the attributes of the master sleuth-hound?” +</p> + +<p> +“One requires the patience of Job for this affair. I’ve been over the +château again and again, and how this assassin gets into it is beyond +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure it is flesh and blood?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be more sure when I have lodged half a dozen bullets in his +giant carcass, as I shall do at the first opportunity,” he growled. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch11"> +CHAPTER XI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE CRIMSON TRAIL</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">During</span> the next few days it became evident that Fouchard had quite +abandoned the idea of arresting Bertha. A lot of his time was occupied +with the column of figures, from which he ultimately confessed he +could discover nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“A red herring,” he grunted. “Flung across the trail in order to waste +our time. We have a whole mountain of brains arrayed against us. +Niels, Heinrich, and Bertha—a redoubtable trio. I’m sick at losing +Heinrich.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s strange that Bertha should stay on here, when she undoubtedly +knows we suspect her,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“A remarkable woman—not the criminal type by any means. I found her +reading a volume of Plotinus in the garden yesterday, in the original +Greek.” +</p> + +<p> +“Humbug, perhaps.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I thought. I even tried to catch her, for I had read +Plotinus in a translated version. I failed, though. She knew the stuff +from alpha to omega.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you aren’t going to arrest her?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It wouldn’t work. I will admit that at the moment I am somewhat +hopelessly bogged.” +</p> + +<p> +He left them a little later, and they saw him walking round and round +a radiant flower-bed, with his hands behind his back, evidently +inventing new theories to fit this remarkable case. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got an idea that when we leave the château we shall be as far +from any solution as we are now,” mused Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d hate to leave it under those circumstances,” replied Wallace. +“Think of Yolande in this grim place, with scarcely any +neighbours——” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re thinking rather a lot about her, aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can one help doing so? You told me yourself that you remembered +her best as a gay, bird-like spirit, full of fun and laughter. Well, +that has gone. She still has the courage to smile, but the burden she +is carrying is obvious enough. I wish we could induce her to +leave—sell up this place and seek peace elsewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be waste of breath to try. There is a lot to be said for +aristocracy, despite your Socialistic tendencies. Yolande’s ancestors +went to the guillotine with a smile on their faces. Do you expect +their descendant to flee from danger?” +</p> + +<p> +“But this is different. There is little to be gained by staying on. No +doubt the French Government would take over the château as a historic +antique. No Government could ever let a place like this fall into +decay.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not, but there are other considerations. There are the +tenants. Would they fare as well under such a change of ownership? +Half of them never pay any rent. In addition, there is pride. That, I +think, is the deciding factor.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you are right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I am. You wouldn’t think so well of Yolande if she did what +you try to persuade yourself is the sensible thing. It is because she +faces this danger with a stout heart that you, my dear Ralph, are +falling hopelessly in love with her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Deny that if you can.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace shrugged his shoulders and stared out at the bright blossoms. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re right, Connie,” he said in a low voice. “I’d hate to be +thought a sloppy sentimentalist, but the château, the air we breathe, +the brooding mystery that lurks here, all spell ‘Yolande’ to me. She +doesn’t know—yet. I wouldn’t have her know while this horrible shadow +hangs over her. But when I think of what happened to poor Fallières, +within a few yards of us, and reflect how easy it might be——” +</p> + +<p> +“Steady!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it has to be taken into consideration. Look, there goes +Bertha—to cut flowers for the house, apparently.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad raised his eyes and saw the fine figure of the parlourmaid +enter the garden. She was garbed in the becoming dress of the domestic +staff of the household, and it suited her colouring perfectly. They +watched her moving among the flowers, cutting suitable blossoms, for +Yolande loved to have flowers in her bedroom and also in the +dining-hall. Bertha entered the house again by way of the terrace, +with her arms full of roses, delphiniums, and asters. She displayed +her gleaming, perfect teeth as Conrad gazed admiringly at the floral +treasures. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur is fond of flowers?” she asked in slightly broken English. +</p> + +<p> +“All but the blind must be,” replied Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Even the blind may smell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is mademoiselle down yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“She will not be long. Since her maid left I have had the honour of +waiting upon her. It is sad that one so gracious and beautiful should +be made to suffer so deeply. It would be better if she left the +château.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think so?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Zut!</i> It is not obvious? Monsieur has seen and heard enough to +understand that there is great danger here. The servants whisper among +themselves, and more will be leaving soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you—are you not afraid?” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad gazed at her intently. But Bertha never turned a hair. She +shrugged her perfect shoulders and raised the blossoms to her +straight, firm nose. +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes,” she said. “But life is full of threats. One extra should +not matter much. All who live must die.” +</p> + +<p> +“So Shakespeare said,” put in Wallace. “But there are pleasanter ways +of dying than having one’s throat cut from ear to ear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then monsieur should take the wiser course,” she retorted. +</p> + +<p> +“And run away? You are a trifle inconsistent, Bertha. Just now you +were advising mademoiselle to vacate the place, and immediately on top +of that you quote Shakespeare.” +</p> + +<p> +“Women are always inconsistent from the moment they are born. If they +were not so, men, with all their mighty logic, would fail to be +interested in them.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s one for you, Ralph,” said Conrad, with a laugh. +</p> + +<p> +Bertha laughed too—a rich, ringing peal that echoed along the +terrace. Then she gave a half curtsey and went about her business. +Conrad’s eyes followed her until her red heels disappeared through the +door. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, she’s wonderful!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“You mean her self-possession?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +“What now?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re interested in her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t we all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t hedge. I noticed you when—when she looked at you with her +siren-eyes. She would have offered you a rose if I hadn’t been +present.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t talk such rubbish!” snapped Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish it was rubbish.” Wallace became serious. “That damned woman +has more brains than all of us put together. She’s angling for you, +Connie; one antagonist the less when she hooks you. Whenever she +passes you she turns her head ever so slightly—just enough for you to +see the corner of her eye. Great Scott! Julian Conrad, late Major of +the R.G.A., and a parlourmaid who mixes in very strange company——” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad stood up, and for the first time in his life Wallace saw real +anger in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re an idiot, Ralph,” he snapped. “Not only an idiot, but an +insufferable snob. So much for your Socialism!” +</p> + +<p> +“Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +“You annoy me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I meant to,” said Wallace, with a grin. “The fact is, old man, that +crowd is going to beat us unless we stir ourselves. The woman in the +case is always the danger—especially when she is as attractive as +Bertha is. Perhaps I went too far. I’m sorry. Come—shake!” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad gripped the proffered hand a trifle shamefacedly, for he was +painfully aware that his display of anger only went to prove that +Wallace’s accusation was not entirely unfounded. It was a fact that +Bertha impressed him tremendously. Through thirty-five years of life +he had managed to steer a celibate course, only to hit up against this +remarkable woman when he had come to believe that the passions of +youth were dead for ever. There was something in her voice, in her +carriage, that affected him strangely. That she was playing a clever +game he felt convinced, but, all the same, his nerves never failed to +tingle whenever Bertha loomed in sight. +</p> + +<p> +“A dangerous place for all of us,” he said. “Was it a holiday trip we +planned, Ralph?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, an adventure—and we’re getting it. Ah, here comes Yolande.” +</p> + +<p> +She approached them with a smile on her face, and bade them remain +seated, whilst she took a chair next to Wallace. Attached to her dress +was one of the roses that Bertha had recently gathered. It had a +gleaming dew-drop upon it. Wallace thought it looked like a fallen +tear from the beautiful eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the great Fouchard?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace inclined his head towards the garden, and Fouchard came to +view at that moment, still walking round and round the great bed of +delphiniums. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems completely baffled,” said Conrad. “I can sympathise with him, +for we are confronted with a most perplexing enigma.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bertha could solve it if she would,” said Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“So could Heinrich or Niels, but there is no hope of getting any clue +from them. It is evident that they are operating against us,” said +Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Bertha’s conduct is the strangest. I purposely got her to act as a +temporary lady’s-maid to me. Her conduct is all that could be desired. +Sometimes I see her watching me—in the mirror. Her face is +sympathetic—almost sad. This morning she begged me to go away from +here. Either she is the most wonderful actress in the world, or she is +sincerely sympathetic. What—what is one to believe?” +</p> + +<p> +“The former,” said Wallace emphatically. “We know she let those two +men into the house. She is no more faithful to you than—than the +Monster is. How is it possible to believe she is anything other than a +conspirator in this mysterious plot?” +</p> + +<p> +“Might not there be some element that we have overlooked?” pleaded +Conrad. “Neither she nor her companions may be implicated in the +actual crime.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why are they behaving so mysteriously? At any rate they are +house-breakers—robbers.” +</p> + +<p> +“My head aches with it all,” said Yolande. “Shall we go and look at +the orchids?” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad declined politely, but Wallace was quite willing. They left the +terrace and walked through the most exotic part of the wonderful +garden. With the gaunt château obscured from view, they were +immediately transplanted into a veritable Garden of Eden. Yolande +seemed to breathe more freely as they got farther from the scene of +terror. +</p> + +<p> +“How fortunate it was that I met you and Mr. Conrad that morning,” she +said. “You have helped me—so much.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I could feel that. Both Conrad and I feel that we are pretty +useless specimens. But Fouchard is beat also, so we must not take our +failure too deeply to heart. You are still determined to stay here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Whatever may happen.” +</p> + +<p> +“I admire you immensely,” he blurted out. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I do not run away—as I sometimes am tempted to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not only for that. You have borne so much sorrow with so brave a +heart. Of course I know nothing about women, but I never imagined that +any woman would—would act as you have,” he said lamely. +</p> + +<p> +“You—you mustn’t pay me undeserved compliments. At heart I am very +much afraid. It is the unknown that is so awful. I have the feeling +that these terrible events are not yet over. Last night—last night I +dreamed it—it was you.” +</p> + +<p> +She shuddered and, unconsciously perhaps, her hand went out and +gripped his. Wallace felt his blood scampering through his veins. +There came the desire to take her in his arms and tell her that, no +matter what happened, he would never forsake her—that in less than +two weeks she had captivated his heart and soul. It was on the tip of +his tongue when he heard running feet on the gravel path behind, and +turned to see the chauffeur, very out of breath and red in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon, mademoiselle,” he gasped. “Monsieur Fouchard asked me to find +you. He would like to speak to you immediately.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch12"> +CHAPTER XII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE SECOND VICTIM</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> urgent summons from Fouchard left no doubt in Wallace’s mind +that the mystery had yielded a new feature. He and Yolande hurried +back to the house and found Fouchard in earnest conversation with some +of the servants. Yolande’s face fell when she saw this, for the news +looked anything but good. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, Fouchard?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Severin is missing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Missing?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was brought to my notice that Severin’s room had not been slept in +last night, nor is he to be found about the château.” +</p> + +<p> +“But we saw him at ten o’clock last night,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Some of the servants saw him at eleven, just before he locked up. +When he did not put in an appearance this morning they presumed he was +unwell. The chambermaid ultimately made the discovery.” +</p> + +<p> +The servants whom Fouchard had been questioning were dismissed, and +the quartette looked at each other—Yolande with fear and +apprehension, Wallace and Conrad in speechless surprise, and Fouchard +with ill-concealed rage. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t think Severin is in this conspiracy?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“No—no,” said Yolande. “I fear—I fear——” +</p> + +<p> +It was obvious what she feared, and Fouchard inclined his head grimly. +</p> + +<p> +“But this is appalling!” said Conrad. “It was Severin who was so sure +that nothing would happen until the moon——” +</p> + +<p> +“Superstitious rot!” snapped Fouchard. “I never paid the slightest +heed to it. There is only one thing to be done, and that is to search +the whole place. I am deeply sorry, mademoiselle—I scarcely expected +this.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no sign of any struggle in Severin’s bedroom?” +</p> + +<p> +“None—nor in any other room. I have already been through most of the +occupied rooms.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us make a start,” pleaded Wallace, whose impatience was manifest +in his twitching limbs. +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard nodded, and soon the three men were probing in every dark +corner. Wallace had persuaded Yolande to await them on the terrace, +for he anticipated another ghastly discovery. The vaults were tackled +last of all, and there their worst expectations were realised. The +body of Severin was found lying flat on the floor at the far end of +the vault, with his throat cut. He was quite dead, and his limbs were +stone cold. +</p> + +<p> +“Ghastly!” exclaimed Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“No attempt to hide the corpse this time,” mused Fouchard. “It must +have happened last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what was Severin doing down here? He dreaded the place, and +certainly would not have come down here close to midnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t ask me any questions,” snapped Fouchard. “I have already asked +myself every conceivable question that has any bearing on these +horrible crimes. Now I’ll have the idiots from Arveyes down +here—wasting time.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande was apprised of the discovery. She made a brave attempt to +control her emotions, but Severin had been a beloved and faithful +servant and the blow was heavy. Wallace’s heart ached as he gazed upon +that beautiful, troubled face. +</p> + +<p> +“This is hell, Connie,” he said. “Where is it going to end? If +Fallières and Severin, why not you and me—or Yolande? God, it is +maddening to feel so helpless.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard got into touch with Arveyes, and again the local police and +the doctor arrived. The servants now were completely terrified. Three +maids packed their bags as soon as the police had done with them, and +others talked of going. But Bertha, though pale of face, displayed no +desire to go. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know of this?” snapped Fouchard, banishing discretion in +his ignominy. +</p> + +<p> +“I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—you. You were not on the best of terms with Severin—I happen to +know that.” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha started, but her eyes did not waver. She glared back at +Fouchard until that worthy winced. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you dare accuse me?” she asked hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve the best of reasons for making that remark.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the magistrate from Arveyes interrupted. He was a pompous little +man, and objected to Fouchard stealing his thunder. +</p> + +<p> +“I am examining the witnesses, Monsieur Fouchard,” he said haughtily. +“I should like to know what these two gentlemen know of this affair. I +understand they have been staying in the château for a considerable +period—in fact, the exact period covering the two crimes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur, they are my guests and friends,” objected Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding, Wallace and Conrad were compelled to answer a +multitude of questions, mostly to satisfy the vanity of the little +magistrate. Fouchard was so disgusted he strode out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the limit!” said Wallace later. “We seem to be getting +dragged into it. The idiot!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am so—so sorry,” said Yolande. “I fear I have been the means of +submitting you to great indignity.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t your fault, Yolande,” replied Wallace with a smile. “I +suppose he only did what he thought was his duty. After all, we are +strangers to him. Poor old Severin!” +</p> + +<p> +The remains of Severin were removed later, and Fouchard put in an +appearance at dinner, for he missed as few meals as possible at the +château. +</p> + +<p> +“Baffled!” he said. “Who is going to be the next, I wonder?” +</p> + +<p> +“S-sh!” ejaculated Wallace angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry. But these are grim facts, monsieur. I can find no motive +for either crime, and one is led to the conclusion that no one in this +place is immune. Mademoiselle, you must leave at once. I insist!” +</p> + +<p> +But Yolande shook her head. The second tragedy, following so close +upon the first, only served to harden her resolution. Wallace +flinched, but flashed a look of admiration across the table. +</p> + +<p> +“But it is madness—” said Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I stay, monsieur. Let us not waste words.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Zut!</i>” he grunted. “It is not for me to give orders.” +</p> + +<p> +He got on with the meal, and for some time no conversation passed. +Fouchard’s disgruntlement vanished at about the same rate as the +courses, so that when coffee was served he was almost normal again. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course Bertha had no hand in Severin’s death,” he said suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“But you practically accused her!” +</p> + +<p> +“Only to see how she would take it. She is in league with the Monster +in some way, but cold-blooded murder is not in her line. I am not so +certain about Niels. I don’t think he would fight shy of anything that +would gain him his ends.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what are his ends?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! There you have me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Something in this château?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would appear so.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think that the objects of Niels’s party and of the Monster are +identical?” +</p> + +<p> +“They must be. If we only knew what that object was half our work +would be done. I am wondering whether it would be of any use to +endeavour to come to terms with Bertha.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come to terms!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? I presume that all of us want justice done for these two +cold-blooded murders. If Bertha can help us to get our man she +deserves what wealth or treasure lies hidden here.” +</p> + +<p> +“If any,” put in Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“We could at least promise her a free hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande would never consent to any parley with that party,” said +Wallace. “It would be like hoisting the white flag. Besides, it is +absolutely certain that Bertha will not give anything away. Whatever +the secret is, they would die rather than reveal it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” mused Fouchard. “But the woman might speak if I could put her +two confederates in jail with long sentences to serve. While she hopes +to achieve her end she is fearless. I’d have no difficulty in +convicting Heinrich and Niels if only I could land them, but they are +elusive fish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet they must be living somewhere in the neighbourhood.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have tried everything, and the people at Arveyes have been busy in +that direction. They seem to have dug themselves in very securely.” +</p> + +<p> +On the following day Fouchard made another small discovery. He was +engaged in perambulating his favourite corner of the garden when he +noticed a man loitering outside. He promptly secreted himself behind a +bush, and ultimately saw the loiterer climb over the low wall and slip +a letter between two loose bricks in one of the supporting columns of +the terrace. +</p> + +<p> +Two minutes later the letter was in his possession. He came into the +house looking more perplexed than ever, and helped himself to a drink +before he divulged what it was that was troubling him. +</p> + +<p> +“Another!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Another what?” enquired Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you read German?” +</p> + +<p> +“Fairly well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then have a look at that.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad took the roughly-opened envelope and extracted a single sheet +of paper. He translated the contents for Wallace’s edification: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“<span class="sc">Dear Bertha</span>—<i>Am joining Niels to-night. Come if you can to the +usual place—to-morrow at seven o’clock.</i> +</p> + +<p class="rt1"> +“<span class="sc">Walther</span>.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“Who the devil—” gasped Conrad. “Has Bertha seen this message?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. But she is going to. I shall put it back where I found it, and +trust to our little Bertha to lead us to the lair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whew!” said Wallace, mopping his brow. “This is an invasion. Did you +see the man who brought the note?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He couldn’t have helped us. He was a peasant, and there is no +doubt the note was given him with instructions what to do, and a +reward. Had I apprehended him it would have placed our cunning friends +on the <i>qui vive</i>. I must get a fresh envelope and replace this +message without delay.” +</p> + +<p> +He went off, and Conrad sat shaking his head, while Wallace chewed the +end of a cigarette. The gathering forces of the other side made it +abundantly clear that they had not the slightest intention of +abandoning their quest. +</p> + +<p> +“Niels, Heinrich, Bertha, now Walther,” chanted Wallace. “What a +collection!” +</p> + +<p> +“And the Monster.” +</p> + +<p> +“Five sets of clever brains—against three. I wonder what Fouchard +will do if he successfully runs them to earth? Personally I don’t +believe it will help at all. They will all keep their mouths shut, and +we shall be exactly where we are, without even the chance of getting +wise to their motives.” +</p> + +<p> +“You heard what he said. He will jail the men and try to coerce +Bertha.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a hope! If Bertha could have spoken she would have done so +before. I am afraid Fouchard is at his wits’ end, and is likely to +bungle things.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard made all his plans that evening. Hopeful of a round-up, he +had brought the local police into his scheme. Bertha was to be trailed +from the moment she left the house, and the whole party arrested <i>en +bloc</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“For the time being you and I are to have a holiday,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +He did not seem very disappointed, and Wallace could not help feeling +that he was relieved not to have to assist in arresting the woman in +the case. Yolande was duly informed of what was pending. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think it will lead to any good?” she asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I have doubts about it. It is obvious that Fouchard is still smarting +from injured pride. He is dying to lay hands on Niels, who collared +him so cleverly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bertha is the greatest mystery,” she replied reflectively. “I do not +know what to think about her. While I have every reason to believe +that she is conspiring to rob me—of something, I have got to like +her. She is gentle, sympathetic, and altogether the most efficient of +maids. I wonder what her relations are with those men?” +</p> + +<p> +“She may be in their power—compelled to do their bidding. We must +wait and see what to-morrow will bring.” +</p> + +<p> +A bitter disappointment was in store for Fouchard, for on the +following evening Bertha did not leave the château at all. Fouchard +crept back after hours of impatient waiting, having missed his dinner +in the bargain. +</p> + +<p> +“Baulked again,” he said savagely. +</p> + +<p> +“She hasn’t been there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—the minx! That letter was genuine enough, but she must have seen +me take it. Confound the woman!” +</p> + +<p> +“And what now?” asked Conrad sweetly. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—I wish I did. These are hard nuts to crack. They are +all eyes, and ears, and brains.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are indeed,” sighed Yolande. “One feels all the time that one is +being watched. I would give almost everything I possess to have +justice done, and to live in peace again.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch13"> +CHAPTER XIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE CONSPIRATORS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">In a</span> small farmhouse, situated some twenty-five miles from the +château and lying well off the main road, two men sat and smoked in +the dusk of evening. One of them was Heinrich, and the other man +called Walther. Heinrich still wore a bandage round his leg where +Fouchard’s bullet had punctured it, and when he got up to light the +hanging lamp he limped slightly. Walther was a striking personality. +He was over six feet in height and extremely well proportioned. His +hair was as fair as a Swede’s, and was set off by wide-set, vivid blue +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a strange business,” he mused. “At first I was incredulous, but +of course I was compelled to change my mind. How did you manage to get +into this place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Datel passes as an Alsatian, but he is an old friend of Niels. He is +away at the moment. It’s time Niels was back.” +</p> + +<p> +“What time did Bertha say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Eight o’clock. It is now half-past eight, and Niels ought to do the +journey in less than half an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thirty miles!” +</p> + +<p> +“The car is wonderful, and Niels drives it like mad. That young +Englishman will give Niels a certificate to that effect. He once tried +to catch him.” +</p> + +<p> +“What have these two Englishmen to do with the business?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing. They happened to be staying with Fallières when—when it +happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Horrible!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. It ruined things, for it brought Fouchard down. But the +Englishmen are a danger all the same. The young one is keen on +mademoiselle, and is an awkward customer to deal with. His friend is +also to be reckoned with. But for them mademoiselle would have fled +and we should have had the place to ourselves.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a dangerous game.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and the sooner we gain our ends the better.” He glanced at the +clock again. “I hope there has been no mishap with Niels. Fouchard has +every place watched.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was a narrow escape last time. If Bertha had not seen Fouchard +taking the letter— Good idea of Niels to leave her that pigeon.” +</p> + +<p> +Heinrich nodded, and then started as he heard the rising drone of an +engine. +</p> + +<p> +“Niels!” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” +</p> + +<p> +A minute later Niels entered with Bertha. The latter nodded at +Heinrich and shook Walther’s hand warmly. +</p> + +<p> +“So you got here safely?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not without some trouble at the frontier. Why am I wanted at all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Niels thought it best.” +</p> + +<p> +The diminutive Niels, obviously the eldest of the party, pursed his +thin lips, and, after offering Bertha a chair, sat down himself. His +small, wiry body seemed bursting with vitality, and his beady eyes +flashed as if illumined by an inner light. +</p> + +<p> +“Things are in a mess,” he said. “We didn’t bargain on the forces that +oppose us. The death of Severin has made things more dangerous still.” +</p> + +<p> +“We—we ought to have prevented that,” said Bertha. “It is horrible.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could we prevent it?” he snapped. “On the one occasion when we +were so near success we were frustrated. But there must be no more +failures. We have to prepare the ground in advance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Heinrich. “I suppose there is no shadow of doubt about +this? You must remember that up to now none of us has seen anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall,” retorted Niels. “Have no doubt about that. Steinbech’s +information leaves no room for doubt. And the messages—who could have +sent those but— Did you hear a sound?” +</p> + +<p> +“A rat in the rafters,” said Heinrich. “The place is infested with +them. What is the next step, Niels?” +</p> + +<p> +“We have to get rid of the two Englishmen.” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha started at this. She looked keenly at Niels, and then shook her +head. +</p> + +<p> +“I will not be a party to bloodshed, Niels,” she said firmly. “If it +cannot be achieved without that, I am done with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It never entered my mind,” growled Niels. “But I want them out of the +way. We can deal with Fouchard afterwards.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Mademoiselle Fallières!” ejaculated Bertha. “Without her guests +she——” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely. Mademoiselle will quickly pack her bag and vacate the +château. That is what I am aiming at.” +</p> + +<p> +“You make a mistake, Niels,” said Bertha. “You do not know her so well +as I. She has the courage of a lion. Though she is full of terror, she +will not run away. For her sake I would rather those men stayed.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible. I mean to have my way, Bertha, for I have thought +over every alternative, and none promises the slightest measure of +success. And we must all act in harmony. What do you say, Heinrich?” +</p> + +<p> +“I agree. I think Niels is right, Bertha. The two Englishmen are +obstacles to success. We cannot hope to deal with three determined men +at one time. What is your plan, Niels?” +</p> + +<p> +“It involves some risk—to myself. I shall endeavour to lure the +younger one after me by exposing myself—in the car. He has a fast +car, and will give chase. His friend may accompany him, in which case +we shall bag the two together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Presuming we accomplish that much—what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall make it impossible for them to interfere for a few days at +least.” +</p> + +<p> +“You intend to keep them prisoners here?” asked Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +“No. That would be too risky. It would mean that one of us would be +out of action—looking after them. We cannot afford that. I had in +mind Rupert.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rupert!” +</p> + +<p> +“He is lying off Gervaise at this moment, and will stay there until he +hears from me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But they may get back,” said Walther. +</p> + +<p> +“Only after considerable delay. As an alternative there is +Frankenstein’s clinic. They would be as safe there as anywhere in the +world. You, Walther, could certify their insanity.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” gasped Bertha. “That would be horrible. We have nothing against +those men—except that they are in the way. Frankenstein’s hospital +would drive them crazy. Besides, it is over the frontier, and not so +simple a matter to arrange as the Rupert idea.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to have a rather keen regard for those men, Bertha,” said +Niels, half closing one eye. “Since the younger one is half in love +with Mademoiselle Fallières, I presume it is the elder one that has +made an appeal to your impressionable heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“Niels!” +</p> + +<p> +“I warn you that love plays second fiddle in this business. Don’t let +your heart run away with your head.” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha’s face went scarlet, and she glared at the speaker in a way +that would have frozen him had he been the type of man to be +susceptible to such facial expressions of contempt. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a devil, Niels,” she said. “What I fear is that you overreach +yourself, and do something in a moment of passion that we shall live +to regret. I will have nothing to do with the Frankenstein idea. +Rupert can accomplish all that is necessary.” +</p> + +<p> +“I agree,” said Walther. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. That will suit me. I will take the car to-morrow in the +direction of the château. The valley road can be seen from the +terrace. If that young speed-fiend sees me—as I hope he will—I shall +head for Morgins. You remember the ruins on the corner of the Rheims +road, Heinrich?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall allow him to overtake me there—close to the big oak. You and +Walther will wait there. If the two come, the matter will be more +difficult, but we shall be three to two—and prepared.” +</p> + +<p> +His auditors nodded, and Niels went into a few more details. Bertha +was clearly the most agitated of the four, for she saw the breaking up +of a small romance. Yet the thing at stake was big and important +enough to warrant this sacrifice. She inclined her fine, intelligent +head in agreement. +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing for me to do?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet. But watch Fouchard and advise me if anything untoward +happens. I will put the pigeon back in the cage in the forest +to-morrow. Send a message if necessary.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if you want to communicate with me? The old hiding-place is +useless now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will leave a note in the pigeon-cage. Perhaps a code would be +safest.” He thought for a moment. “We will use the alphabet backwards; +you understand. It is crude, but good enough in the circumstances.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you will use no more force than is necessary, Niels?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I?” he replied impatiently. “Are there any further +suggestions?” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything seems clear and simple enough. I suppose those two men +will be armed?” said Walther. +</p> + +<p> +“It is possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm!” +</p> + +<p> +“I warn you to take care,” said Bertha, waving her finger. “They are +both athletic, and the younger one in particular is a born fighter. If +he thinks he is fighting for the happiness of Mademoiselle Fallières +he may shoot to kill.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet you insist that we should treat him with the gentlest care?” +retorted Niels. “He is to shoot to kill, while we must handle him as +if he were a sucking dove.” His brow came down. “Are not we fighting +for something, too—something as dear to us as anything——” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us not quarrel,” begged Heinrich. “Walther here is equal to two +men, if it comes to a scuffle. I was thinking, Niels; suppose that +young man should overtake you before you reach the ambush—what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I should deserve all I got. Trust me. I know his car, and I know +mine. I am ten miles an hour faster, and the road I shall take is +fairly straight. A puncture might complicate matters, but I shall put +on brand-new tyres. Bertha having an objection to spanners as agents +of unconsciousness, we must get Walther to use one of his violent +anæsthetics.” +</p> + +<p> +“I seem to be needed here,” sighed Walther. +</p> + +<p> +“You will be needed later,” said Niels, with a grim look on his +curious face. +</p> + +<p> +“So I imagine. Well, Bertha, cheer up. We are not going to fail this +time. In a fortnight at most we ought to be back in Germany.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but even then——” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t dwell on that,” said Niels, in a quieter voice. “Let us meet +our troubles as they come. Whatever happens, keep silent. A single +word—the smallest hint of what we want—would ruin everything. Once +the truth were known the end is inevitable. You must realise that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—I do. But I am sorry for that poor girl, who has lost so much. +She suspects me, but at times she acts as if she trusted me. If I +could only tell her——” +</p> + +<p> +“Madness!” hissed Niels. “Banish that idea from your mind for ever.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have. Don’t catechise me. You seem to forget it was I who first put +you on the track, Niels.” +</p> + +<p> +“So it was. But what I daily fear is that everything may be ruined by +a display of sentiment. We cannot afford to be sentimental. It is a +grim fight, and we have to go through with it. Well, I fancy we have +discussed everything. You must get back to the château.” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha nodded, but seemed to tremble. The good-looking Heinrich stood +up and limped towards her. He grasped her hands and looked at her +affectionately. +</p> + +<p> +“Be of brave heart, baroness,” he said. “You are playing a difficult +part, and we shall never forget it.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch14"> +CHAPTER XIV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A NIGHT OF TERROR</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Wallace</span>, fresh from his morning tub, and brimming over with health, +found Yolande sitting on the terrace, turning over a pile of +newspapers which had just arrived. On the front page of the uppermost +one he saw a huge headline: “Incredible Happenings at the Château +Grammont.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are down early,” he said to Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I could not sleep. Look at all these! The château has at last +become famous.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t read them,” he begged. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no intention of doing so. Theories—theories—and all based +upon hearsay, for I have not given an interview to a single reporter.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you are wise. Have you seen Conrad this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he finds a certain attraction in the garden. Bertha is +cutting some flowers.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you have noticed that?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can one help noticing—when a man is in love?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought he was absolutely immune. Of course, he won’t admit +it—psychological interest he calls it. But it’s all wrong—all +wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“A kind of treachery, you think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—it isn’t nice.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t blame him. Bertha is a living contradiction, and Conrad is +only human. There is so much that is grim and ghastly about this +château that we ought to welcome the invasion of Cupid, in whatever +guise he cares to come. I have never known Bertha do a single unkind +thing, and that leads me to think that she is a tool who cannot help +herself. She is not the ordinary type of maid. It is easy to see +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is extraordinary enough, I’ll admit.” +</p> + +<p> +“And beautiful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why hesitate? Perhaps you are not interested in blondes. They say +that a fair man never sees much in a blonde.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a lot in that,” he said, gazing into her dark eyes. “But +that’s not the reason. I can’t forget that Bertha is mixed up in this +mystery. How can we possibly exonerate her without knowing what part +she is really playing. Innocently or not, she is responsible for some +of the suffering you have endured. You can’t expect me to love her, in +the circumstances.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want you to love her,” she retorted with a smile. “But in +this baffling enigma we must not draw premature conclusions. Since +Bertha has acted as my maid I have had time to appreciate her sympathy +and goodness of heart. Again, last night, she begged me to leave the +château.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you refused?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet there is real danger, Yolande; you know that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who should know it better than I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then—is it wise?” +</p> + +<p> +“Now you are going to tempt me! I can bear anything but that. It isn’t +mere foolish bravado that keeps me here. It is the thought of my +father, who endured so much—and yet stayed. I have taken over that +custodianship, for good or ill. You would think less of me if I fled +before the threatening shadows that lurk in these walls, and I should +despise myself to my last day.” +</p> + +<p> +She raised her head proudly, but Wallace saw the brooding spirit of +fear in her eyes, and he realised how much courage it needed to +withstand what must be a constant temptation. What he was dreading was +the rapidly approaching day when his holiday would be ended, and +Yolande must be left alone to fight the unseen danger. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not invite some friends down for the summer?” he suggested. “Fill +the château with them and——” +</p> + +<p> +“They would not come—again.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Last year we had a big house-party. There was a terrible scene one +night—I shall never forget it. Our guests left their rooms and +crowded into the reception rooms. Most of them had heard awful +noises—running of feet, growling. Two of them swore they had seen a +gigantic form on the landing.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Monster!” +</p> + +<p> +“It must have been. On the next day most of them went—raising all +kinds of excuses. Very soon not one was left. It was humiliating.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad sauntered back, striving to look perfectly innocent. He gave +them “good-morning” and then turned over the pile of +newspapers—“Monster Haunts Famous Château”; “Baffling Mystery of the +Château Grammont”; “The Phantom Murders.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t wallow in them,” pleaded Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been thinking,” mused Conrad. “I suppose there <i>is</i> a Monster +here? It is possible we have been tricked.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tricked?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certain persons want possession of the château for some purpose +unknown. It would not be difficult for one of them to play the part of +a huge demented creature, with the object of causing the place to +become abandoned.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean Niels or Heinrich?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? A lot can be done with packed heels, a voluminous cloak, and +extras.” +</p> + +<p> +“But we have seen the thing!” +</p> + +<p> +“In a half-light. An artist in make-up can do extraordinary things.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the murders——” +</p> + +<p> +“That is just the point. It gives a motive for them which on any other +theory is missing. The murders might have been committed to prevent +identification. You will recall that on every occasion the face has +been concealed by the hood.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Wallace. “It sounds too improbable. But, if it were true, +it would not alter facts very much.” +</p> + +<p> +“It cuts out the Monster as an entity, and leaves us with Niels and +company only.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Bertha,” rapped Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—and Bertha,” agreed Conrad slowly. “But I’ll never believe she +countenanced murder. Does she look that sort of woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Looks count for nothing. Are you forgetting that it was Bertha who +let Niels and Heinrich into the château when she thought the coast +was clear? Was that the act of an innocent person?” +</p> + +<p> +“It might be the act of one who is compelled to serve other persons. I +don’t know, but the more I see of Bertha the more convinced I am that +she had nothing whatever to do with those grim and ghastly tragedies.” +</p> + +<p> +At dinner that evening Conrad mentioned his theory to Fouchard, who +had been absent most of the day. Fouchard pressed his lips together +and seemed reluctant to express an opinion. The celebrated +sleuth-hound was fast approaching a state bordering on desperation, +for he had spent several hours in the vaults with the list of cryptic +figures without discovering anything worth mentioning. He ate +savagely—almost indecently. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a joke in Paris,” he admitted at last. +</p> + +<p> +“A joke!” +</p> + +<p> +“At headquarters, I mean. Those infernal journalists have concentrated +on the Monster and skipped all the rest. They know what makes a good +story—with the vulgar public. Have you read those accounts?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Zut!</i> They have gone farther than a Monster. They have made him the +devil incarnate—something with horns and cleft feet, and breathing +brimstone. <i>Tiens!</i> I must make an arrest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing to show for my work here—nothing. I have enough +evidence to convict the woman of aiding and abetting, and, by heaven, +I will!” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t,” said Yolande quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“And why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because, monsieur, you have brains, and you know that the Monster is +no figure of the imagination, no masquerade of any of those others. He +is as real as you or I, and is the pivot on which all these strange +and awful happenings revolve.” +</p> + +<p> +“So he is,” he growled. “But they won’t leave me alone. I have a +rival—Cochet, who loves to express opinions in matters which do not +concern him. He has come to the same conclusion as Monsieur Conrad +here, with the result that I am looked upon as an idiot who is +hoodwinked by a masquerading servant.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard’s personal vanity was his weak point, and evidently his +professional rival was playing against it. It took two liqueurs to +reduce him to a state of equanimity, after which he was quite charming +again. +</p> + +<p> +“I think mademoiselle ought to take a little holiday,” he said. “Not a +prolonged one. Say a week at Aix or Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sound idea,” said Wallace immediately. +</p> + +<p> +“You see——” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the lights went out, and the place was plunged into darkness. +Yolande uttered a little cry, and Wallace, who was close to her, gave +her his hand, which she took willingly. +</p> + +<p> +“The power seems to have gone off,” said Conrad. “The light outside +has failed, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will send for Watkins,” said Yolande. “Mr. Wallace, the bell is by +the fireplace. Will you ring it, please?” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace moved to where he thought the fireplace lay. Feeling his way +forward, he ultimately found the wall, and then the bell-push. In +response to his ring a maid appeared with a candle in her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Marie, the light has failed. Go over to the garage and ask Watkins to +come here. In the meantime, send in some candles.” +</p> + +<p> +While they were waiting for the illumination a strange thing happened. +There was a noise from the direction of the casement window, and a +blast of cool air entered the room. Yolande’s hand closed on +Wallace’s—tightly. Then someone coughed—a deep, rasping cough like +that of a sheep. It was quite close to Wallace, and he concluded that +Conrad or Fouchard was moving about. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you been sleeping in a field, Connie?” he asked banteringly. +</p> + +<p> +“That was Fouchard,” said Conrad’s voice from the rear. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Tiens!</i> I never coughed. Why——” +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph!” +</p> + +<p> +The cry came from Yolande’s lips—an ejaculation of awful terror that +caused Wallace to jump in his chair. He put his arms round Yolande and +drew her closer to him. Her mouth came close to his ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Something here,” she whispered. “It—it touched me.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace had no matches, but he possessed a very reliable petrol +pipe-lighter. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he found this and +gave the small wheel a twist. The spark ignited the wick, and +simultaneously cries came from Fouchard and Yolande, for standing +close to the fireplace was the hooded form of the Monster. An +involuntary movement of Yolande’s hand caused the miniature torch to +fall to the floor, and it went out. +</p> + +<p> +“The window!” cried Fouchard. “Watch that door, Wallace!” +</p> + +<p> +But Wallace with Yolande in his arms was slow to act. He heard a +scuffling of feet, and the noise caused by a falling chair. Then +Fouchard’s voice called for help. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Here. I’ve got him. Lend a hand, quick!” +</p> + +<p> +“Coming.” +</p> + +<p> +He blundered in the direction of the cry. But at that moment the door +opened and a maid appeared carrying two candlesticks. She suddenly +uttered a piercing cry, and something big and vague struck the +candlesticks from her hand and sent her sprawling. Wallace helped her +to her feet and retrieved one of the candlesticks—with the candle +still burning. He held it above his head, and saw Fouchard on the +floor clinging desperately to a struggling form. +</p> + +<p> +“Conrad!” he gasped. “Fouchard, what are you doing?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard had seen the familiar face, and he went crimson with +humiliation. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you tell me it was you, monsieur?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell you—with your fingers round my throat! Did you see him, Ralph?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but he went through the door while you were strangling each +other. Hullo—that’s better!” +</p> + +<p> +The light had come on again, and four pairs of eyes gazed at each +other in temporary bewilderment. Fouchard recovered his wits first. He +produced a pistol from his hip pocket and moved towards the door. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s not far away,” he growled. “Must have come in through the +window—but why?” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande winced as a demoniacal laugh came from the direction of the +servants’ hall. Off went Fouchard at a run. +</p> + +<p> +“Take care,” warned Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m taking a hand in this,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Connie, will you stay with mademoiselle?” +</p> + +<p> +But Wallace had gone flying along the corridor after Fouchard. At the +end he found two startled servants, clinging to each other. Then he +swore loudly as the lights went out again. Unfamiliar with that part +of the building, he scarcely knew where to turn. +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard!” he yelled. +</p> + +<p> +No reply came, and he felt his way along the passage until he reached +a closed door. He turned the handle, but it was bolted from inside. A +low whispering was heard from the other side of the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Open!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Qui va la?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Wallace.” +</p> + +<p> +The door was opened, and he found himself standing on the threshold of +the enormous kitchen, which was illuminated by several candles. The +cook was grasping a stout rolling-pin, and his assistant was armed +with a flat-iron. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Hélas</i>, monsieur! we have seen the devil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” +</p> + +<p> +“Here. <i>O mon Dieu</i>—he was terrible!” +</p> + +<p> +Taking one of the candles, he went back along the passage. Again he +called Fouchard’s name, but that worthy seemed to have disappeared +completely. After more wandering about, he returned to the room where +he had left Yolande and Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t find Fouchard,” he said. “Has he been back?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncanny! The servants are all scared to death. Here is the light +again!” +</p> + +<p> +Two minutes later Watkins came in, looking dirty and very disturbed in +his mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon, mademoiselle,” he said. “I was coming across when the fuse +went again. Can’t understand it at all. Whoever wired this château +must have had some strange ideas. I’ll have to go all over the wiring +to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you had better bring some electric torches into the house, +Watkins, in case this should happen again. Buy a new supply +to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +Watkins went away shaking his head. He was not so much scared as +worried, for he took a great pride in his work. +</p> + +<p> +“I must go and find Fouchard,” said Wallace. “He must have gone into +the cellar.” +</p> + +<p> +He was leaving the room when Fouchard came back. There was limewash on +his coat and dirt on his face, but what took their gaze was a big, +rusty razor which he carried in his left hand. +</p> + +<p> +“You—you saw him?” asked Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“No—but I felt him. He slashed at me with this, but missed. I could +have got him if by the rottenest piece of luck my pistol had not +jammed. Well, I have achieved something.” +</p> + +<p> +“The razor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not only that. I have marked the murderer for life. When we find him +he will have from eight to twelve teeth-marks on one of his wrists—I +don’t know which. That caused him to drop his lethal instrument.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you see where he went?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. He hit me with the force of a battering-ram and laid me out for +half a minute. I shouldn’t be surprised if one of my ribs has gone. +But I think that settles any doubt as to whether there is a Monster or +not, and whether he is human. He tasted human enough to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard opened the razor and displayed a jagged blade. Yolande +shuddered, and Wallace bade him put the horrible weapon away, for it +was reminiscent of things best forgotten. To Fouchard, however, it was +a priceless trophy. At last he had something to report to +headquarters. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch15"> +CHAPTER XV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE COUP</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> wonderful spell of fine weather showed signs of breaking up. +Seen from the terrace of the château, the landscape presented a +gloomy aspect, sunk in the shadow of an overcast sky. It seemed like +the natural aftermath to the night of terror that had passed. +</p> + +<p> +“Storm brewing,” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Looks like it. There is scarcely a breath of wind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you realise that our holiday is nearly at an end?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—worse luck.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t want to go back?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am thinking of Yolande—of what happened last night. To leave her +here in the circumstances would be—appalling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard will remain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose he goes? He has hinted at the possibility of his being called +back to Paris. In any case he won’t stay here indefinitely—and the +Monster may.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard may clear up the business before he leaves.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I could think he would.” +</p> + +<p> +When Yolande joined them she showed signs of the ordeal through which +she had passed, and she informed them that more servants were leaving, +while she had not yet been successful in engaging any others to take +the places of the last batch that had absconded. +</p> + +<p> +“The agents write to say that no servants will consent to come here. +The newspapers are too full of the tragedies that have taken place. I +am left with a cook, two maids, and Bertha, excluding Watkins and a +gardener who lives out. Soon I shall have to cook my own food,” she +added, with a wan smile. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace was staring down at the road which wound through the valley. A +car was coming down it, and he recalled the fact that it was the first +car he had ever seen on that road. +</p> + +<p> +“Where does it lead?” he asked Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“It joins the main road beyond the château. It is seldom used by +anything other than the carts of the peasants and woodmen.” +</p> + +<p> +“That thing <i>is</i> moving,” said Conrad, as the car approached them. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace made no reply, but his eyes were fixed intently on the car. It +seemed familiar—strangely familiar. When it was almost directly +beneath the château he uttered a cry of astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“What——?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s Niels!” he gasped. “I’ll swear to it. It’s the car I followed +that evening— Here’s a chance. I’ll get him this time. Where is +Fouchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“Gone for a walk. Wait—I’ll come!” +</p> + +<p> +He apologised to Yolande and, grabbing his hat, ran after Wallace. +Before he reached the garage Wallace had the car out. Conrad dived +through the open door and sat down. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold on!” +</p> + +<p> +Two quick gear-changes and the Bentley was tearing down the drive with +Watkins staring after it, and scratching his head. Once through the +gate, Wallace changed to “top.” The responsive car sailed round the +bend and emerged in the main road. +</p> + +<p> +“There he goes!” cried Conrad, pointing to a cloud of dust ahead of +them. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit tight and hold your breath. I did a bit of tuning-up yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +The accelerator pedal went lower and lower, and the crackle from the +exhaust rose higher. Hedges and fields streamed by—faster and faster. +To Conrad everything seemed blurred, and the white ribbon of road +seemed to be rushing at them, while the car appeared to remain +stationary except for a slight side movement. The cloud of dust in +front became more distinct. Soon the rear part of the other car could +be seen. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re gaining,” said Wallace, “and I’m not warmed up yet. I fancy +this will be an unlucky day for Niels. Look at the little +blighter—grinning at us!” +</p> + +<p> +“So long as he limits it to grinning I don’t mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t be able to do that if he makes the pace much hotter. Roads +bad here. Farther on it’s dead straight for about ten miles. We are +barely doing seventy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all? Steady! By Jove, that was a near thing.” +</p> + +<p> +This as Wallace took the sharp bend at speed. It resulted in a +nerve-wracking skid which, but for the most skilful handling of the +car, would have ended disastrously. +</p> + +<p> +“We gained two hundred yards by that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t make it a habit.” +</p> + +<p> +The straight portion of the road was now entered. Wallace sighed as he +saw the tall poplars vanish in the distance, and let the car have her +head. The needle moved around the dial swiftly under the wonderful +acceleration, and the crackle of the exhaust became a continuous roar. +To Wallace it was sheer joy, but Conrad regarded it differently. He +was not used to having himself flattened out against the cushion, nor +to having his lungs supercharged with oxygen. He found it difficult to +breathe, and all he could see was the tail of the fugitive car getting +nearer and nearer. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you going to do—pass him?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Ditch him if he won’t slow up.” +</p> + +<p> +But when both cars were within a hundred yards of each other Wallace +found the intervening space increasing. It was incredible, for the +speedometer was close upon the “ninety” mark. +</p> + +<p> +“Well I’m—” he gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a level crossing ahead!” cried Conrad suddenly. “And a man is +waving. The bar is coming down.” +</p> + +<p> +Niels did not hesitate for a second. Wallace saw the leading car rush +beneath the falling bar. It bounced alarmingly on the uneven ground, +but got its equilibrium again and went streaming down the open road. +</p> + +<p> +“Damn!” grunted Wallace, and slammed on all his brakes. Conrad was +nearly flung over the low windscreen as the Bentley decelerated with +frightful abruptness and came to a dead stop with its bonnet within +two yards of the stout bar. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Sacré!</i>” yelled the man in charge. “<i>Pourquoi</i>——” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace did the most sensible thing. He apologised in his best French +and, seeing that no train was yet in sight, waved a hundred-franc note +under the nose of the irate man. It was the magic Sesame, and half a +minute later the Bentley was across the lines, and hurtling after the +almost invisible car. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all or nothing now,” said Wallace. “Damn it, the Bentley ought +to beat that thing, whatever it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not so sure. But for heaven’s sake don’t brake like that again, +without giving warning. You nearly lost me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry. She’s getting warmed up beautifully. We’re gaining again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little.” +</p> + +<p> +Away went the straight road like a knife-edge, over hill and dale into +the hazy distance. The air was charged with a sickening odour. +</p> + +<p> +“Castor oil,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +A blinding flash of lightning struck down, and instantly the thunder +crashed. The threatened storm had broken. The last reverberations had +scarcely died away when dense rain lashed down. Conrad tried to put up +the hood, but their great speed prevented it. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t stop,” shouted Wallace. “Keep your head down or you’ll be +flayed.” +</p> + +<p> +This was no exaggeration, and Conrad crouched low, while Wallace +pushed his face closer to the screen for protection. The other car was +lost for a minute or two in the deluge, but it loomed in sight +again—much nearer. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s beaten. I’m going to push him into the ditch. Look out for +yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +The ensuing tactics were nerve-wracking. The Bentley slowly overtook +the mystery car. Soon a few lengths separated them. Through the +lashing rain and pools of water the churning wheels buzzed. Wallace +was drawing out with the object of getting alongside when Conrad +uttered a wild yell, for the right-hand steering gave the passenger a +better view of the road. Wallace swerved in, and a big closed car, +coming in the opposite direction, missed his rear wheel by inches. It +permitted the fugitive car to draw away again. +</p> + +<p> +“Rotten luck! Keep your eyes skinned, Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +“This is hell!” protested Conrad, outraged. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the chance of a lifetime, and we can’t afford to miss it. I’ll +get him again. He’s not so good on mud.” +</p> + +<p> +Up crept the Bentley, foot by foot. Wallace caught a glimpse of +Niels’s face. It was set and grim, and, like them, he was drenched to +the skin. He was about to overtake again when another car came towards +them. The driver glared at the apparent madman of the road. +</p> + +<p> +“The devil is with him,” groaned Wallace. “I’m dreading that my petrol +will give out. I know I hadn’t much when I started. Confound this +rain!” +</p> + +<p> +Grim-faced and shivering with cold, Conrad peered through the bottom +of the windscreen. He was just beginning to realise that the fires of +youth were burning out. It was Wallace who got all the thrills. Conrad +would have preferred a hand-to-hand combat. There were different +grades of courage. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Wallace. “We ought to get him here.” +</p> + +<p> +Again he steered towards the centre of the road. The bonnet of the +Bentley passed the rear wheels of the other car. They were actually +side by side on a road that allowed scarcely any margin. Niels’ head +moved slightly towards Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop—or I’ll ditch you!” +</p> + +<p> +Niels seemed to slow down a little, but did not stop at once. Owing to +the opposite positions of the steering-wheels on the two cars, +Wallace’s head came within three feet of Niels. He yelled at him with +all his might: +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t stop I’ll smash you to blazes!” +</p> + +<p> +Niels gave a quick glance at the three-foot ditch on his right and +began to slow down. At the corner, close to a tumbledown farm, Wallace +put the Bentley across the bows of the other car, and caused Niels to +complete his braking abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick, Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +Both of them leapt from the car and made for Niels. Wallace was quite +prepared for a fierce resistance, perhaps with a firearm thrown in, +but Niels merely thrust his unkempt little head forward and glared at +them. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you mad?” he snapped. +</p> + +<p> +“Not quite. You’re coming with us, and the less you have to say about +it the better.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll find out later. Come out of that car!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are playing a dangerous game, monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come out!” +</p> + +<p> +Niels shook the water from his cap and stepped into the road. At that +moment two figures emerged from the shelter of a big tree on the +opposite side. One was Walther and the other Heinrich, and both of +them carried pistols. +</p> + +<p> +“Hands up!” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace swung round, and saw Walther pointing his pistol at his head, +whilst Heinrich covered Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“Tricked!” said Wallace bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +Events moved swiftly after that. Niels produced a pistol and pushed +the barrel into Wallace’s back, whilst Walther produced a pad from his +pocket. In a twinkling he clapped this over Wallace’s nose. It did its +work with remarkable speed, and a few seconds later Conrad was +similarly treated. +</p> + +<p> +“Get them into the car—quick!” said Niels. +</p> + +<p> +This was done and the hood erected over the unconscious victims, after +which they were searched and disarmed. +</p> + +<p> +“What about that other car?” asked Heinrich. +</p> + +<p> +“You had better take it to Roche’s garage. Ask them to store it for +the time being.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t drive it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then Walther can. Yes, that is better, for Walther is a complete +stranger. We will wait here for you, Walther. How soon will the +effects of that stuff work off?” +</p> + +<p> +“Half an hour. It will give us time to bind them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good.” +</p> + +<p> +Walther stepped into the Bentley, examined the controls, and then +started off down the filthy road. +</p> + +<p> +“Everything according to plan,” said Niels, rubbing his hands. “We +will have them in Rupert’s hands before long.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch16"> +CHAPTER XVI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">BONDAGE</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Wallace</span> opened his eyes to stare in wonderment at two pairs of bound +legs in his proximity. It took him a full minute to realise that the +nearer pair was his own, and that his hands were similarly bound +behind his back. Those facing him belonged to Conrad, whose face he +could see as a whitish splodge in the gloom. There was another pair of +legs mixed up with the mass of human extremities, and, tracing these +upwards with his eyes, he saw they supported a big, muscular body, +above which was a face which he had seen before. +</p> + +<p> +His head throbbed so painfully that it was difficult to sort out the +incidents of the immediate past. Conrad recovered consciousness while +he was engaged in this attempt, and sat blinking at him like a +bewildered owl.… Things became clearer after a while. He recognised +the other occupant of the car as the man who had doped him—Walther +unquestionably. +</p> + +<p> +From the front of the vehicle came low voices. Niels’s was immediately +recognised, and the other, he guessed, belonged to Heinrich. Yes, it +was clear enough now. He had run his neck right into the noose that +the wily Niels had dangled before him. And here they were speeding +along a road in the drenching rain—bound whither? +</p> + +<p> +“Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo! Where the devil are we?” +</p> + +<p> +“God knows.” +</p> + +<p> +Walther grinned down at them, and moved his enormous legs to give them +a little more room, which was sorely needed, for the back part of the +car was not constructed to carry three persons. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you taking us?” demanded Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“For an excursion. The air of the Château Grammont is apt to become +enervating.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace bit his lip in his ignominy. He put the blame entirely upon +himself, and felt keenly sorry for Conrad, whom he had got into this +plight. The bonds which held his legs had been tightly fixed, and were +cramping him painfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there any necessity to keep us trussed up like chickens?” he +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It depends upon yourselves.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will free your legs if you will give me your word of honour not to +start any trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could we—with our hands bound behind our backs?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I will risk it, but if you try any tricks I shall be compelled +to send you to sleep for another spell.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced a knife and freed their legs, after making sure that the +other fastenings were tight. The two prisoners stretched their aching +limbs so far as it was possible. All the while the powerful engine was +propelling the vehicle at a great speed. Wallace, with his mechanical +interest aroused, inclined his head a little to one side, listening to +a high whirring sound. +</p> + +<p> +“Supercharger,” he said. “I’ll bet it’s doing thirty thousand revs.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care if it’s doing a million,” growled Conrad. “This is a +nice ending.” +</p> + +<p> +Niels, hearing the conversation, looked over the partition and +scowled. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you mad, Walther?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“They won’t hurt,” replied Walther. “I’ll be responsible for them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Look here,” said Wallace. “What’s the game? This is a pretty risky +proceeding.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not half so risky as sojourning in the Château Grammont. You ought +to be grateful to us.” +</p> + +<p> +“You want to get us out of the way, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wonderful powers of deduction!” said Walther. “Well, I fancy we are +well on the way to success in that respect.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed true enough, for the car was now putting up a terrific pace, +and Wallace tried to take a bearing from the sun; but that orb was +totally obscured by rain-clouds. +</p> + +<p> +“You might as well tell us our destination,” he said. “It can make no +difference to you. I’ll admit that you have scored a point or two.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are on our way to—the sea,” said Walther. +</p> + +<p> +“The coast!” +</p> + +<p> +“Repeating your recent deductive reasoning, you will conclude that a +short sea trip is in store for you. You are correct, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very funny!” said Wallace. “Ve-ry funny!” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad gave a wan smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you are Walther?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“You are well informed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glad to meet you.” +</p> + +<p> +“The pleasure is mine. What do you think of this car?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not bad, but a bit noisy on gears,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“We will have that seen to,” replied Walther calmly. “You will admit +it wanted catching, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a fake job.” +</p> + +<p> +“So it is—just a little hotted up for emergency. My cousin made it +himself—with a little outside help.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your cousin! So ‘monkey-face’ is your cousin?” +</p> + +<p> +Niels heard this. He poked his head over the partition and looked like +murder. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, Niels,” said Walther cheerily. “It’s astonishing what +truths come from the mouths of children. Look ahead or you’ll pile us +up in the ditch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Watch those two,” growled Niels. “They are not to be trusted.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” said Walther, “my more experienced relative has doubts +about your integrity.” +</p> + +<p> +The two chaffing prisoners relapsed into silence, and for a long time +nothing was heard but the peculiar noise of the supercharger and the +whirring of the tyres on the wet road. Hour after hour the pace was +maintained, Niels avoiding all big towns. Once Wallace caught a +glimpse of a distant structure—a towering mass of iron that he could +not help but recognise. +</p> + +<p> +“The Eiffel Tower!” he exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +“We are skirting Paris,” informed Walther. “Think of the cafés, the +boulevards, the Folies-Bergère. How much wiser it would have been for +you to have spent your holiday there instead of at the Château +Grammont.” +</p> + +<p> +“We haven’t done with the Château Grammont yet,” said Wallace. “The +tables may be turned, my friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly. I always believed in the law of equilibrium. But time is +the chief factor. I’m afraid you will miss your tea. Niels does not +stop for anything when he is on the road.” +</p> + +<p> +The big tower faded away into the distance, and a little later the +rain ceased. But the roads were waterlogged, and the rushing car sent +up fountains of mud as it careered on its way to the coast. Wallace +became sunk in reflection. He thought of Yolande at the château. She +would be wondering what had become of them, and wonder would merge +into fear when the night came down. He thought of the creature who ran +amok between those ancient walls—the razor—— +</p> + +<p> +“What about my car?” he asked suddenly. “Do you intend to steal it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not. I am sure Niels much prefers his own.” +</p> + +<p> +“What have you done with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will know later. Why don’t you go to sleep?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sleep!” +</p> + +<p> +A little later Wallace overheard the German word for petrol. A hope +was born. If Niels had to stop to fill his tank there might be a +chance to enlist the help of the people at the garage. Their bonds +would be evidence of abduction, and the French had little love for +their late foes. But in this he was doomed to disappointment, for the +car pulled up on a deserted road and Heinrich filled the tank from a +big reservoir which was bolted to the running-board. +</p> + +<p> +On went the car again, in the gathering gloom. Darkness made little +difference to the speed, for brilliant headlights illuminated the road +for half a mile ahead. At last the brine-laden air gave warning that +the sea was not far away. They ran for some miles through flat +country, with dunes on either side, and ultimately came to a halt with +the sea breaking on the sand close by. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are!” said Walther. “An hour before our time.” +</p> + +<p> +Niels and Heinrich got out of the car and flashed a torch towards the +sea. Immediately an answer came back, and the men waited in silence. +Soon Wallace heard the creaking of oars, and then the beaching of a +boat. +</p> + +<p> +“Bring them out, Walther!” +</p> + +<p> +The two prisoners breathed a sigh of relief to be able to stretch +their muscles. It was a wonderful night, with a sky rain-washed and +free of cloud. The stars shone like fairy lamps, and in the west a +crescent moon hung low. Looking across the bay, Wallace could see a +fine, white yacht, with steam up. And coming towards them was a man in +nautical garb—an officer, apparently. The boat which had brought him +was on the marge of the softly breaking sea. +</p> + +<p> +A conversation ensued, but it was in rapid German—too fast for either +Wallace or Conrad to translate. The upshot was they were escorted to +the waiting boat and driven aboard. A few minutes later they were +moving across the moonlit sea towards the yacht, with the officer +between them. +</p> + +<p> +“You are my guests,” he said, in good English. “I trust you will like +the yacht.” +</p> + +<p> +“I doubt it,” grunted Wallace. “I suppose you realise that this is a +kidnapping business?” +</p> + +<p> +“An unpleasant word. Here we are!” +</p> + +<p> +He cut their bonds in order to permit them to climb the ladder. But +this act was off-set by the display of a revolver. They reached the +deck and were driven into the saloon, which proved to be a most +comfortable affair—and roomy. +</p> + +<p> +“I will come again later,” said the officer, and went out, locking the +door after him. +</p> + +<p> +“Phew!” said Wallace. “And that’s that!” +</p> + +<p> +“The car is moving.” +</p> + +<p> +“Going back to the château. What a devil of a plight we are in! It’s +my fault, Connie. I was too impetuous. I ought to have suspected a +plot.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, we’re moving! Quick work that!” +</p> + +<p> +“Where the devil are we bound for?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I knew. The skipper—I suppose he is the skipper—treated +Niels as if he were in his employ. Why, this boat is the plaything of +a millionaire. What does it all mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“It beats me.” +</p> + +<p> +“It can only mean that what is hidden at the château is of the +greatest value to certain persons.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—yes. But I’m starving.” +</p> + +<p> +“So am I. Have a cigarette.” +</p> + +<p> +They sat and smoked for some time, and then the officer appeared +again. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. Make yourselves at home. Dinner will be served in a few +minutes. Through the door yonder you will find a lavatory, and all you +need. The dining saloon is downstairs—under this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks! Are you the captain?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And may we know where you intend taking us?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you later. Dinner is waiting, and we observe punctuality +here.” +</p> + +<p> +They were glad to take advantage of the well-fitted lavatory. But +their clothes were sodden and creased, and rendered them sorry +objects. They were remarking on this when a seaman knocked and +entered. He could speak no word of English, but he brought with him +two suits of duck and a bundle of collars. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m damned!” ejaculated Wallace. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch17"> +CHAPTER XVII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">WALLACE ESCAPES</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Dinner</span> with the skipper—who formally introduced himself as Captain +Michels—was a welcome affair, for both Wallace and Conrad were +famished. There was a varied assortment of dishes, and wine in plenty. +The whole thing was so unexpected and so illogical in the +circumstances that Wallace still wondered whether he was dreaming. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry your cabins weren’t ready,” said the captain. “We have been +giving the yacht a clean-up. But everything will be in order by the +time you turn in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks!” said Wallace. “This is a queer sort of business, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing. I have instructions to make you comfortable and to +land you at a certain place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whose instructions?” +</p> + +<p> +“The owner’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is the owner—Niels?” +</p> + +<p> +“That, sir, is quite a private matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you don’t know why we are here—why we have been kidnapped?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not kidnapped?” +</p> + +<p> +“Be frank,” said Wallace. “You are holding us by force.” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t exercised any—so far.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is force all the same. We were dragged here by the scruffs of our +necks—so to speak, and there is little difference in our position to +being in jail with chains round our ankles.” +</p> + +<p> +“Except the dinner,” said Michels, with a smile. “I am sure they do +not serve such meals in jail.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean to carry out your instructions?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“To the letter. I am employed for that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Despite the illegality?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not for me to question orders. Have a cigar?” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad frowned, but took one. Wallace shook his head and preferred a +cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, I understand that you two gentlemen have been interesting +yourselves in certain matters. I know no details, but I am assured +that the atmosphere of the yacht is a healthier one than that of the +place whence you came.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a matter of opinion,” said Wallace. “Well, to get to the +point, what do you intend to do with us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Land you safely in your native country. There is no hurry; we shall +round the coast at half speed. But on Sunday I think you will be able +to return to your homes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sunday!” gasped Wallace. “Why, it is only Wednesday!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is so.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’ve left a car there—by the side of the road—and it contains +our passports, <i>triptiques</i>——” +</p> + +<p> +“I was told to inform you that it can be shipped across the Channel if +you apply to Monsieur Roche, of the garage near Moulins. Your +excellent organisation—the A.A.—would doubtless manage the whole +thing for you.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace sat and fumed. It looked as if Niels had made all the running. +If Michels intended landing them somewhere on the coast on Sunday +night, it would be Monday before they could get to London, and +valuable time would be lost whilst the business of fresh passports was +settled. A full week must elapse before he could return to the +château. During that period anything might happen. Moreover, his +holiday would be up. +</p> + +<p> +“These employers of yours are strange people, captain,” he said +boldly. +</p> + +<p> +“Determined people, Mr. Wallace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t argue, Ralph,” pleaded Conrad. “We must make the best of it. +Things might be much worse.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could they be?” +</p> + +<p> +Later Wallace went below to look at the engines, and for half an hour +his professional interest was held. Their cabins were side by side and +splendidly appointed, and nothing was left undone that would add to +their comfort. A seaman brought in their clothes, dried and pressed. +</p> + +<p> +“Alice in Wonderland,” said Wallace. “Here are a gang of housebreakers +owning a yacht that must have cost a fortune. What do you make of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t make head or tail of it. I wonder if Bertha is a paid +employee, or really in the swindle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hang Bertha! I wonder what it is they are after.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sunday!” mused Conrad. “That Engineering Congress takes place on +Wednesday. I shall just be able to get there, thank heavens! I +must—I’m chairman.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean you—you will stay in England?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—naturally. The Congress will cover four days, and business +calls. Had you forgotten we have a factory?” +</p> + +<p> +“Almost. I’m sorry, Connie. But, you see, I can’t help thinking +of—of——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. What is the use of pretending? I love that girl; but, even if I +didn’t, I should feel I ought not to leave her—in that ghastly +château. I tell you, it’s a nightmare to me to think of what might +happen there at any moment—to-night even.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it obvious that if they have gone to all this trouble to get +you and me out of the way they will do the same for Fouchard? They +want to empty the château.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think that is true.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s damnable—horrible.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are thinking of the—Monster?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. The killing is his work. He is different from the others. +I don’t believe there is any connection between the Monster and +Niels’s party. But they seem to have one thing in common—the +knowledge of something of tremendous value hidden in the château.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if Fouchard is missing Yolande will go.” +</p> + +<p> +“She might—ultimately. But suppose—suppose she left it too late? +That Thing, Man, Monster—whatever it is—murdered poor Fallières +savagely, and even Severin, who was an old man and offered no kind of +an obstacle. Do you think he will stop at that?” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad was silent, for, like Wallace, he realised the deadly danger +for a woman placed as Yolande was placed. But business was business, +and it was of the utmost importance that he should be back in London +within a week. +</p> + +<p> +“We seem to have shot our bolt,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Shot! Well, I’ve done nothing, except to get bowled over by that +seven-foot devil, and suffocated by Walther. I’ve never had a chance +to do anything to help. That’s what irritates—I’ve no battle-wounds +to show.” +</p> + +<p> +“Better sleep on it to-night. At least, nothing can be done now. We +are as harmless as caged canaries.” +</p> + +<p> +But Wallace did not feel like turning in. His brain was uncommonly +active, and his nerves at concert pitch. Leaving Conrad, he went on +deck and walked up and down under the stars. The moon was still +hanging in the western sky, and he could see the French coastline +clearly, with scattered lights on the downs. The yacht was making up +the Channel at leisurely speed. +</p> + +<p> +Three hundred miles beyond that strip of sea and those wind-swept +downs was the Château Grammont—and the girl who had made so deep an +impression upon him. He could feel the spell of her even +now—something dragging at his heart, whispering apprehensively. A +seaman was singing a shanty softly, but it was in German, and he did +not understand the words. Yet, like all such songs, he guessed there +was a woman in it—a woman left in the last port, just as he had left +one at the château. +</p> + +<p> +A mad idea came to him. It was driven home by the twinkling lights and +that haunting song. He looked down at the sea; it was placid as a +millpond. Pensively he walked back to Conrad’s cabin, and found that +worthy partly undressed. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo! Not going to bed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet. Connie, I want you to come outside. Slip on your coat.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want to show you something.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad put on his coat and followed Wallace on deck. They went to the +port side of the ship, and Wallace pointed to the lights on shore. +</p> + +<p> +“How far would you say those were?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Difficult to say; two miles at least.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not more?” +</p> + +<p> +“Might be three. It’s a wonderfully clear night.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you remember that when we joined the yacht the tide was just +on the flow? I recall the waves creeping——” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad suddenly realised the significance of this. He grasped Wallace +by the arm firmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be insane!” +</p> + +<p> +“I should be insane if I let a chance slip. To-morrow we may be in +mid-channel. It’s a risk, but I’m going to take it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! Three miles?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve done as much before, in a less calm sea. Look, there’s a big +town farther along—probably Dieppe. With any luck I could reach the +château by to-morrow morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t permit it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry, Connie, but I shall have to go without permission. Will you +lend me all the money you have left? I may want to hire, or even buy, +a car on the moment.” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” replied Conrad firmly. “Rather than see you fling your life away +I will warn the skipper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, you won’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because you would do the same thing yourself if you were in my boots. +Seriously, old man, I can get across that bit of sea if I’m right +about the tide.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if you aren’t?” +</p> + +<p> +“We won’t discuss that. Come on, I’ve got to get into my own clothes. +Hunt up that money.” +</p> + +<p> +He bundled Conrad into his cabin, and went through the connecting door +to his own, in order to change his attire. Conrad fought with his +conscience, but gave way at the end, for he had a fine appreciation of +Wallace’s physical abilities. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not take a life-belt?” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t swim in the thing. I’ll put the notes in this old +tobacco-tin. And I’ll drop you a wire as soon as I can. Let’s stroll +along the deck—innocently.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad was breathing hard, for he was not in love with the project, +but Wallace, standing on the threshold of freedom, was as keen as a +hound in the chase. They turned by the wheel, and then got amidships, +where it was absolutely deserted. +</p> + +<p> +“Now’s my chance,” whispered Wallace. “Good-bye, old man!” +</p> + +<p> +“Good luck!” +</p> + +<p> +He ran lightly to the side, and, mounting the rail, dived cleanly, +striking the ocean without a splash. Conrad, with his heart beating +furiously, watched his head reappear, and saw the powerful arms strike +out towards the French shore. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch18"> +CHAPTER XVIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">WALLACE HAS A LITTLE LUCK</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Wallace</span> turned his head as he swam, and saw the yacht slipping away. +He had no doubt that his escape was completely unobserved by any of +the crew, and now success rested upon his swimming powers. He soon +realised that he had been correct about the tide, but there was a +strong easterly set in the current, which threatened to hold him up. +He was a powerful swimmer, and he put every ounce of energy into his +strokes, for he calculated that, once free of the easterly flow, +progress would be easy. +</p> + +<p> +For half an hour he battled with it, and then was greatly relieved to +find himself drifting in on a good tide. The blaze of lights grew +appreciably nearer every few minutes, and his heart began to beat a +new note.… In less than an hour his feet touched bottom and he waded +through the surf on to the beach. +</p> + +<p> +It was Dieppe—he knew it quite well; and the town was yet noisy with +traffic, for the season had commenced, and Dieppe kept late hours. His +first thought was for dry clothing, but how to procure such at that +late hour was a problem. His last resource was a gendarme who was +stationed outside the Casino. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon, m’sieur,” he said. “I have had an accident—in a boat. Can +you help me obtain some clothes?” +</p> + +<p> +He had to repeat this twice before the gendarme understood. Then the +latter stroked his enormous moustache, and debated the matter +mentally. The subtle display of a hundred-franc note was instrumental +in assisting him towards a quick decision. +</p> + +<p> +“If m’sieur will come with me, perhaps the matter may be arranged,” he +said. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace went with him up several side-streets, and ultimately stood +outside a small shop, over which the owners lived. The gendarme +knocked, and after a few minutes’ wait the door was opened by +“Madame.” A little rapid conversation mingled with much handwork did +the trick, and the gendarme pocketed the note and went back to his +post. Madame let him in, and switched on the light in the shop. It was +packed with clothing of every conceivable kind, from women’s “undies” +to men’s blue jumpers. He selected the best outfit he could find, and +changed into it behind a screen, while madame yawned and made mental +calculations as to how much the job was worth. He was appallingly +overcharged, but it was a relief to discard his late saturated +apparel. Wrapping the drenched garments in a sheet of brown paper, he +bade her “<i>Bon-soir</i>” and departed. +</p> + +<p> +A clock in the main street informed him that the hour was one A.M., +and he took it for granted there would be no train to either Arveyes +or Rheims that night. The only alternative was a car. He started on +the garages, but not one of them had a driver who could undertake a +long night journey at a moment’s notice, and none of them would +consider lending him a car. +</p> + +<p> +Bitterly disappointed, he wandered in the direction of the Casino. The +urge was strong upon him. To sleep while Yolande was in danger was +impossible. It occurred to him that he might telephone to her, but on +making enquiries he was told there would be a delay of three +hours—perhaps more. Cursing all the French systems of communication, +he stared through the portico at the queue of cars waiting for the +baccarat fiends. There were Hispanos, Rolls-Royces, long, gleaming +Renaults with their typically Continental bodies, a hotted-up Bugatti, +Fiats, Lancias, and a magnificent American Packard. +</p> + +<p> +Some had chauffeurs waiting, with sphinx-like patience, for their +lords and masters, others were in charge of no one. The Packard +attracted him, but he was afraid it would have some kind of +thief-proof gadget. The French were more careless. He decided upon the +biggest Renault—for several reasons. It lay away from the bright +lights, and was at the end of the queue, with its bonnet turned the +other way. Moreover, it possessed a fine spot-light which would aid +him in finding his way. +</p> + +<p> +Contemplated larceny was a new sensation, and he didn’t like it much. +But there was Yolande to consider! … He walked down the steps and went +straight to the car. The door was unlocked and the gear-lever free. +Gulping, he switched on the ignition and put his hand on the +self-starter button. Immediately the engine started, and he moved +forward. Then he gasped as a hand was held up and his late friend—the +gendarme—stopped him. But it was only a traffic signal, to permit an +approaching car to turn the corner. Fortunately the gendarme did not +recognise the tense face behind the windscreen. +</p> + +<p> +On the outskirts of the town he found a signpost marked “Rheims,” and +he recalled it was the Rheims road which Niels had joined coming from +the château. He depressed the pedal, and away slid the great car. It +was a “bus” compared with, the lively Bentley, but it had unlimited +power and was the acme of comfort. The great blazing lights rendered +driving remarkably easy, and soon he was out in the country. The +straight road lured him to speed—Yolande seemed to be at the other +end of it, calling for him. +</p> + +<p> +He bumped over the interminable cassis and level crossings, took bends +so fast that the long chassis objected and slewed her tail round +alarmingly at times. But the miles were flying! Once or twice he +slowed down to concentrate the spot-light on a signpost.… For two +hours he maintained an exceedingly high speed—too high for the type +of car—and then he became aware that things were not going well with +the engine. He heard a knock which slowly developed into a bad noise. +</p> + +<p> +“Big end!” he muttered. +</p> + +<p> +His diagnosis was soon beyond doubting. A horrid thud-thud offended +his ears. He tried giving it more oil, but to little effect. Soon it +became apparent that to drive the car much farther would end in +smashing up the whole engine. At fifteen miles an hour he ambled +noisily towards the next village. But on the outskirts he stopped, for +he had no doubt the village boasted a gendarmerie. To sleep in the car +did not appeal to him in the least, for he had little doubt that +telephone bells would soon be ringing all over the country anent a +stolen Renault. +</p> + +<p> +The long main street was illuminated with light from a big building on +the left, and to his surprise and joy he discovered a remarkably +inviting hotel, called the Hôtel de la Poste. He entered the place +and rang the bell. An exhausted waiter appeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you got a room? My car has broken down along the road.” +</p> + +<p> +The waiter mumbled something and went away. A few seconds later the +landlord turned up. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry to be so late,” said Wallace, “but I have had a breakdown. Have +you a room for the night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, m’sieur. You are fortunate in finding us open. But we had +another party of late arrivals. Would m’sieur care for anything to +eat?” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t bother you——” +</p> + +<p> +“But it is no trouble. Some soup, a little fish, an omelette, or——” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have an omelette and half a bottle of <i>vin ordinaire</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, m’sieur. <i>Tout de suite!</i> The dining-room is to the +right.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace nodded and hung up his hat on the hall-stand. Then he became +alert, for the garment next his hat was a brown overcoat that seemed +strangely familiar, and another hat that he could have sworn— He +recalled what the landlord had said about “another party.” Diving his +hand into the pocket of the brown coat, he found an automatic pistol. +He was about to replace it when he changed his mind and retained it. +</p> + +<p> +His meal was brought in quick time, and he ate it very reflectively. +If Niels and his friends had taken that road, it was not at all +unlikely that they would rest for the night after the exertion of +driving which they had already undergone. The waiter brought cheese +and biscuits. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you got a garage here?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Oui, m’sieur.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“My car is stranded along the road—quite near. If I could get a +little petrol I think I could drive it into the garage. Is it too much +trouble?” +</p> + +<p> +The plea, accompanied by a twenty-franc note, lifted the tired waiter +from depression to elation. +</p> + +<p> +“It is no trouble. I will get the key.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace saw him take the key from a hook inside the office. He +followed him to the garage. On the door being opened, the first thing +Wallace saw was Niels’s mud-bespattered speedster! He received a +<i>bidon</i> of petrol from the waiter, and pretended to go to his car. +After loitering for ten minutes, he came back and reported dismally +that the car would not start. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I help m’sieur push it in?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is too big. Never mind; it will not hurt until the morning. Sorry +to trouble you.” +</p> + +<p> +The door was locked again and the key hung upon its nail. A few +minutes later Wallace went to his room. The next move was obvious, and +it removed from him the fear of being hauled up for car-theft. That, +he thought, would not apply to Niels’s case, for Niels would not dare +to approach the police. +</p> + +<p> +For an hour he waited, killing some of the time by looking up the +route to the château from a book of maps which he had picked up in +the hall. Then he decided to make the attempt. Creeping downstairs, he +found the office and removed the key. The front door of the hotel had +double bolts, and a lock of the Yale type which could be opened from +within without a key. +</p> + +<p> +In a few minutes he was in the garage. He examined the car by means of +the “dash” light, and got the hang of the controls. The tank was +nearly empty, but there were scores of <i>bidons</i> of spirit to hand. He +took a dozen of these and dumped them inside the car. Reckoning his +bill roughly, he left enough money to pay it under a spanner on a +bench. There was a slope to the main road, and it enabled him to run +down without using the engine. Once there, he started up, and, +switching on his headlights, went streaking up the road. +</p> + +<p> +Here was something live—something to please the heart of an engineer. +The supercharger was operated from the accelerator pedal, and came +into action at about half-throttle. Its whirring—almost +shrieking—note heralded astounding acceleration. He realised now why +he had never succeeded in overhauling it. It was a track-car, and one +capable of over a hundred miles an hour. +</p> + +<p> +Through the soft night he sped, alternately worrying about Yolande and +grinning to think how circumstances had conspired to turn the tables +on Niels. A hundred miles was knocked off before he stopped dead, and +realised that he had come to the end of his petrol. He got out, and +refilled the tank from the <i>bidons</i>. Incidentally he made another +small discovery. In the pockets of the car were two more pistols, and +a batch of papers which proved to be his passport and <i>triptiques</i>, +also Conrad’s. +</p> + +<p> +A beautiful dawn broke across the fields, and some of the mental +shadows fled. It surprised him to find himself feeling fresh and +unfatigued, but he ascribed it to the joy of the road in the early +morn, and the feel of a willing car beneath him. On the straightest +stretch of road he could not let the thing out, and hills did not seem +to exist. +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later he got a shock. Early as it was, he saw a gendarme +on the fringe of the village, with his hand up. His heart quaked, and +he pulled up the car. The gendarme looked at a piece of paper which he +held in his hand, and scrutinised the number-plates and other points. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s wrong?” asked Wallace innocently. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Ca va!</i> I am looking for a Renault, m’sieur, that was stolen in +Dieppe last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“A Renault? That is curious. I saw a Renault—blue—parked on the side +of the road just outside Vesaires.” +</p> + +<p> +“A closed car?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Voilà!</i> I will telephone Vesaires. <i>Merci, m’sieur!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t mention it! Cheerio!” +</p> + +<p> +He was now but some fifty miles from Grammont, and the thought was +pleasing. Possibly all was well there, for at least Niels and his +friends were counted out for the time being. He wished there were some +means of getting into touch with Conrad, but it looked as if no news +could possibly reach him for days yet. +</p> + +<p> +Already the sun was drying up the mud, and the rain-washed fields and +trees were gay with colour. He played with the car like a child with a +new and wondrous toy, and before he had exhausted its tricks he saw in +the distance the white turrets of the Château Grammont, towering +above the trees in the forest that surrounded it. +</p> + +<p> +A run of twenty minutes through a leafy vista brought him to the main +gate. It was locked, but old Pierre came out and opened it. On second +thoughts Wallace left the car outside and walked up the drive. The +first person he saw was Fouchard, pacing to and fro among the roses, +hands behind his back and head forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo, Fouchard!” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard swung round and gazed at him in amazement. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch19"> +CHAPTER XIX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">BLIND ALLEYS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<i>Tiens!</i>” exclaimed Fouchard. “This is a surprise! What has +happened—and where is Monsieur Conrad?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s rather a long story,” said Wallace. “But Yolande—is she all +right? Have things been quiet here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle is far from all right, but the sight of you ought to +revive her. When you failed to return we took it for granted that you +had run your necks into the noose.” +</p> + +<p> +“So we did—like a couple of idiots.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard suddenly pulled him aside, so that they were both covered by +a big flowering shrub. +</p> + +<p> +“Bertha,” he whispered. “I don’t want her to see you yet. We may be +able to make capital out of your return. There’s a shady nook yonder, +and a seat. Come and tell me exactly what transpired.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace accompanied him to the spot in question, and there told him +what had taken place since the preceding morning. Fouchard listened +intently, and revealed surprise when the yacht was mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +“We are dealing with a curious crowd,” he mused. “It was a good stroke +on your part to get Niels’s car. What have you done with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I left it outside the drive.” +</p> + +<p> +“We must hide it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I? The blighters collared mine——” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want Bertha to see it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because Bertha knows Niels’s programme. At this moment she believes +that you and Conrad are safely aboard the yacht, bound for the English +coast.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t want her to see me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—later, but not that car. If she sees that she will conclude that +Niels is not back, and then I shall lose an excellent chance of +finding out where that crowd is hiding.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think she will go there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. But your presence here will come as a tremendous surprise, and +she will at once communicate with Niels to warn him that something has +gone wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“By what means?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I hope to discover.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace nodded, but he thought that Fouchard was concentrating too +much upon Niels and his confederates, when the real trouble was +centred in the Monster. Personally, he could not see that the possible +arrest of Niels would help matters much, for, whatever the secret was, +Niels was not the type of man to be coerced into revealing it. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take the car farther into the wood,” he said. “There are many +splendid hiding-places. While I am gone, will you break the news to +Yolande?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard nodded, and Wallace left the château and carried out his +project. When he returned, Yolande was downstairs, waiting for him on +the terrace. She gripped his hand somewhat emotionally, and held it, +her own trembling like a leaf. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a wonderful relief,” she murmured. “All night I have been +thinking—thinking horrible things. But why—why did you take all that +risk?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted my car.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see.” +</p> + +<p> +“But that wasn’t the chief reason, Yolande.” +</p> + +<p> +“What—what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to be near you. It was only when I was far away that I +properly realised the hideous danger that threatens you. I don’t mean +from Niels’s party. They are desperate enough, but are not murderers. +In any case, Conrad had to get back to England, but I am not so +important a personage. If you will let me, I want to try and help +solve this perplexing mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no one more welcome here.” +</p> + +<p> +“That reminds me. Do you think Watkins could put me up over the +garage? Of course, Conrad’s departure alters things— I mean, it +scarcely seems the thing to—to——” +</p> + +<p> +A little look of disappointment passed over her face. Then she laughed +amusedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you English, you are so prudish! I may have Fouchard in the +house, but not you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, it’s all rot, and Grundyish——” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a new word—I must remember it,” she said. Then, shaking her +beautiful head, “I am afraid there is no room over the garage. It +looks as if I must get a housekeeper at once to chaperone me.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s enough,” he said. “I’ll defy convention. Where is the charming +Bertha?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the garden.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does she know—about me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet. Fouchard told me not to say anything. Poor Bertha! The more +I see of her the more I am convinced that she is a paid tool of those +men. But I have tried to buy her over and have failed. Of course, she +knows that we suspect her of being an accomplice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet she stays.” +</p> + +<p> +“They compel her to. If Bertha would only speak I feel sure we should +learn much.” +</p> + +<p> +“Here she is.” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha approached the terrace by the garden steps. As usual, her arms +were full of freshly picked flowers, and her attention was so much +centred on their beauty that for a few seconds she did not see the two +figures before her. When at last she raised her eyes and saw Wallace, +there was a fleeting look of astonishment, but she quickly covered it +by a wonderful display of innocence. +</p> + +<p> +“They are a little damaged,” she said. “There was much wind +yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Put them in the hall, Bertha.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, mademoiselle.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s got her guessing,” mused Wallace. “I’ll bet she is wondering +what on earth has happened.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard crept in like a spectre, and looked after the vanishing +Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +“I want her watched—every moment from now,” he said. “Will you come, +Mr. Wallace?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want me to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Go into the garden while I stay here. She is going to signal—or send +some kind of warning. If she passes you, follow her. I’m going to +guard the telephone.” +</p> + +<p> +He disappeared into the house. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a pleasant job,” said Wallace. “If it were Niels——” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll come with you,” said Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Do.” +</p> + +<p> +He thought she seemed brighter this morning than she had been for many +days. Despite the sinister atmosphere of the château, he was glad to +be back again with the woman who caused him more mental anxiety and +heart palpitation than anything he had yet experienced. She stopped by +a bed of bright flowers and picked a sprig, fixing it in his +buttonhole with her white, shapely fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“Rosemary—for remembrance,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it necessary?” +</p> + +<p> +“Necessary?” +</p> + +<p> +“To wear a reminder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is your memory so good?” she said teasingly. +</p> + +<p> +“If I live to be a hundred, I shall never forget this château, these +flowers, and—and you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that a vow?” +</p> + +<p> +“More than that—a sacred oath. Yolande, up to now I have been pretty +helpless. Everything is so jumbled up. If it would only come to a +straight fight—in the open——” +</p> + +<p> +“You have been more helpful than you can possibly imagine,” she +murmured. “Women are by nature timid, though they may succeed in +keeping a tight lip. At times I’m terribly afraid, not of what might +happen—to me, but of the Unknown. I’m superstitious; all women are, +however much they pretend not to be. I find myself wondering whether +there is such a thing as the supernatural——” +</p> + +<p> +“Rot!” +</p> + +<p> +“But isn’t it strange that, despite our precautions, that—that +assassin gets into the château? Niels and the others experience +difficulties, but not the Monster. He seems to come and go as if he +were not human.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall discover his secret—in time.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am beginning to doubt it. Fouchard, with all his experience, seems +to make little headway.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard is crazy about Niels. He cannot forget that Niels once made +him look foolish.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t only that,” she replied, in defence of her countryman. +“Fouchard believes that Niels is the key to the whole thing. Whatever +Niels wants is also the Monster’s object. He thinks he can bring +enough pressure upon Niels to compel him to make a full confession.” +</p> + +<p> +“He will never succeed.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande’s quick eyes saw Bertha leave the terrace. She whispered this +fact to Wallace, and they drew into the shelter of a magnificent yew. +Bertha came down the path, and, with a quick look round, cut across +the garden and climbed over the wall with the agility of a youth. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone towards the forest,” said Wallace. “Hullo—here is Fouchard!” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see her?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. She scaled the wall—yonder.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought as much. Come along!” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace murmured his excuses to Yolande and went off with the +detective. They quickly got on to Bertha’s trail, for they could see +her white cap and apron moving among the pines. +</p> + +<p> +“Hefty woman that!” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Cunning as they make ’em—in Germany.” +</p> + +<p> +“She has cut off to the left.” +</p> + +<p> +“We mustn’t lose her. What the devil is she up to?” +</p> + +<p> +Again they saw Bertha. She was bending over something that was hidden +in the bracken. The next moment there was a flutter of wings, and a +blue bird rose above the pines, hesitated, and then flew towards the +south. +</p> + +<p> +“A pigeon!” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—the messenger.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cute dodge!” +</p> + +<p> +“Not cute enough. Quick! Don’t let her see us!” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha passed by them and headed for the château. When she had +disappeared, Fouchard beckoned Wallace forward. The found the +pigeon-cage in the bracken—but nothing else. Fouchard did not seem to +be half so disappointed as Wallace had expected. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s as good as the other way,” he mused. +</p> + +<p> +“What is?” +</p> + +<p> +“The pigeon is gone, but another one will take its place, in order +that Bertha may always have a messenger at hand. When the next bird is +put in the cage we may find a means to bring Niels to us in quick +time.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. And then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I shall arrest him, and charge him with the murders of Monsieur +Fallières and Severin.” +</p> + +<p> +“What good will that do?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can get him convicted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Though innocent?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Zut!</i> I will force the truth from Bertha’s lips. I have no more time +to waste. Niels is the key, and I will use him.” +</p> + +<p> +They spent that afternoon in going to the garage of Monsieur Roche, +where the Bentley was found. The enterprising garage-owner had taken +it upon himself to clean and polish the car, for which service Wallace +was pleased to reward him handsomely. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know the man who brought the car in?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No, m’sieur. He was a complete stranger to me. I understood that the +owner had met with a slight accident, and that he would give +instructions about collecting the car.” +</p> + +<p> +There seemed to be no reason for doubting his statement, and Wallace +drove the Bentley back to the château. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch20"> +CHAPTER XX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">BERTHA IS SCARED</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Though</span> Fouchard kept the empty pigeon-cage under close observation, +it remained empty for several days. He would sit among the trees for +hours on end waiting for the arrival of the pigeon which was going to +convey his faked message to Niels. But every evening he came to the +château with disappointment writ large on his countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“Seem to have deserted us,” he mused. “What have you done with their +car?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is still in the garage,” said Wallace. “Perhaps you were wrong in +thinking they would replace the pigeon.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the obvious conclusion. They must keep in touch with Bertha, +and the telephone is too dangerous.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mightn’t we be able to save time by having another shot at the +cryptogram?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Waste of mental energy,” grunted Fouchard. “I have been over every +inch of the cellar, and can see nothing to which the figures might +apply. Only the man who wrote them knows what they mean.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet they must have reference to the cellar,” said Yolande, “for Niels +and Bertha were there when you disturbed them.” +</p> + +<p> +“True. But I’ve done all that mortal man can do. What is anyone to +gather from that?” +</p> + +<p> +He produced the slip of paper and laid it on the table. Wallace picked +up and ran his eye over the inscription: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="center"> +27<br> +31<br> +36<br> +Steinbech. +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“If the figures refer to measurements, where on earth does Steinbech +come in?” he mused. +</p> + +<p> +“But are we justified in assuming that it has any connection +whatsoever with the mystery?” asked Yolande. “Heinrich said it was a +system for playing roulette. There are thirty-six numbers in roulette, +and it might be that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bunkum!” snorted Fouchard. “They were going straight to the place to +which these figures have reference—the place where we shall +eventually find the solution to this mystery. I made a blunder +there—I should have held my hand for a bit, and we should have seen +exactly what this priceless hidden thing is that has caused a party of +sophisticated people to turn house-breakers. But it is no use crying +over spilt milk. I yet have hopes of making Niels or Bertha talk up.” +</p> + +<p> +He put the slip of paper away, for Wallace had no suggestions to put +forward. For the past few days there had been no disturbance of any +kind at the château, and Wallace and Yolande had spent some +delightful hours in the garden, and in the beautiful Forêt de +Grammont. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you written to Mr. Conrad?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But he cannot possibly get my letter until to-morrow at the +earliest. He will be relieved to know I am in the land of the living.” +</p> + +<p> +“He did not raise any objections to your—coming back here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not many. Connie understands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Understands your interest in this mystery?” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded, though he felt like telling her that his interest was +divided between it and her. +</p> + +<p> +“He was always good-natured, generous,” she said. “I remember when he +first came here, looking pallid and thin from the dreadful ordeal of +war. I got to like him so much, and he used to romp with me and laugh +at my quaint English. But he never mentioned you.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could he? He didn’t even know I existed. It was after that that +he met my father.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had forgotten. How different life was then. There were my mother +and father and——” +</p> + +<p> +She gulped and turned her head away, but her spirit was too fine to be +crushed by painful memories, and soon she was smiling again. +</p> + +<p> +“At least life is always offering something new, and I am fortunate in +having a garden of my own. Do you believe that flowers have +sensibility? Sometimes I think they have. When I am sad they seem just +a little sad too, but when I am gay every bloom seems to nod on its +stalk and turn its head around. When I laugh I imagine the petals +shake in the sunshine. Childish, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—adorably childish.” +</p> + +<p> +That was the side of her nature which he loved most—even more than +the stubborn pride which enabled her to face the danger that existed. +She had managed to retain that most lovable thing in life—childhood’s +simplicity. +</p> + +<p> +When next they saw Fouchard his impatience was getting beyond control. +Despite his vigil in the forest, nothing had happened to further his +object. His faked message, couched in his best German, still remained +in his pocket-book, for there was no feathered messenger to carry it +to its destination. +</p> + +<p> +“By some means or other they must have anticipated my game,” he +grumbled. “They have as many eyes as a fly.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think they are back?” asked Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The lure is here. But there must be a change of plan. Of course, +the people at Arveyes are keeping their eyes skinned, but if they +discover anything at all I shall be surprised.” +</p> + +<p> +“Things are very quiet here,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard pointed to the moon, which had just risen. It was nearly at +the full. +</p> + +<p> +“According to poor old Severin, we may expect matters to liven up +shortly,” he said. “He was so certain that the moon had something to +do with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am almost ready to believe anything,” said Yolande. “But, of +course, there is nothing in that idea.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing. Old women’s superstition.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how are things in Paris?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Not too good for me. They are inclined to take the view that these +tragedies are of the common type, with robbery as motive. The Monster +they write down as a thing of the imagination. That reminds me that I +must return to Paris next week. I have to appear at an important +trial.” +</p> + +<p> +“Next week! But you will come back here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so. I don’t know how long this trial will take, but I shall +have no peace of mind until I get at the bottom of this business. I’ve +got three or four days in which to land Niels, and I’m going to do it. +Nothing would please me more than to have him as a travelling +companion.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace begged Yolande to play the piano, which she had not done for +some time. Soon the romantic strains of a Chopin Nocturne were being +borne on the warm night air, while Fouchard, left alone with the +Benedictine bottle, enjoyed himself a lot. Wallace was coaxed to sing, +and gave an extremely good rendering of Schubert’s “Who is Sylvia?” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid,” said Yolande, looking up at him with her face aflame with +appreciation. “Try another one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know ‘The Erl King’?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not the ‘Dead March’?” retorted Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +Yolande chose the <i>encore</i> piece for him. It was Schubert’s +masterpiece, “Impatience,” which called for more passion than Wallace +imagined he possessed. But to-night, with Yolande’s hair almost +brushing his hand, and the magnetism of her presence strong upon him, +he felt in the mood for some outlet to his pent-up emotions. But she +was lost in the music, and did not appear to realise that he was +singing this <i>to</i> her. +</p> + +<p> +Ere the last note died away there was a rude interruption. A ringing, +demoniacal laugh came from without, and a great clod of turf was flung +through the half-open window. It fell on the top of the grand piano +and slithered across it, shedding brown earth over Yolande’s dress. +</p> + +<p> +“The devil!” ejaculated Fouchard, springing to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t go!” called Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +But Fouchard had already passed through the window, with a pistol +gripped in his hand. Wallace ached to follow him, but he feared to +leave Yolande alone. +</p> + +<p> +“That has happened before,” she said, trembling. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s uncanny—that laugh!” +</p> + +<p> +“The same awful voice. It spoiled that wonderful song—and I was +beginning to believe that things were getting better. Did you see +anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +She sat nestling close to him on the settee, and he could feel her +heart beating rapidly. It was clear that her nerves were getting +unstrung, and that there was a limit to her endurance. When Fouchard +returned he shook his head despondently. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a sign of anyone,” he said. “I found a bare place on the lawn +outside where the turf had been torn up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ring the bell, m’sieur,” begged Yolande. “The room is in a terrible +mess.” +</p> + +<p> +A maid came in response to Fouchard’s ring. Yolande pointed to the +dirt and grass, but the girl did not seem to understand. She appeared +to be extremely agitated, and stood nodding her head like a mandarin +doll. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon, mademoiselle,” she stammered at last. “There is a strange +noise from Bertha’s room. We have all heard it, but are afraid to go +in.” +</p> + +<p> +“What kind of a noise?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Mon Dieu</i>—terrible! moaning and sobbing.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace looked at Fouchard, and Fouchard pressed his thin lips +together. Yolande gripped the end of the settee. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go up,” said Fouchard. “You had better stay with your mistress.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll stay too,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“No—you go with Fouchard,” insisted Yolande. “You—you may be +needed.” +</p> + +<p> +The two men hurried into the servants’ quarters, and a scared maid led +them to Bertha’s room. As soon as they approached it the noise was +audible. It was as if someone were trying to call for help, but was +prevented from saying anything articulate. Fouchard pushed open the +door. +</p> + +<p> +The room was lighted, and Bertha was sitting in a chair by the +dressing-table, her two arms bound to the back of it by a sheet which +had been taken from the bed. In her mouth was a sponge—brutally +inserted, it appeared, for her lips were bleeding. It was not the +normal Bertha, but a terrified woman, with staring eyes and blanched +cheeks. Fouchard removed the sponge, while Wallace undid the tightly +knotted sheet. +</p> + +<p> +“Water!” gasped Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace filled a glass from the carafe and held it to her lips. She +drank deeply, and took the handkerchief which he offered to remove the +blood from her lacerated mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell us what happened,” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“My—my head is swimming.” +</p> + +<p> +“Give her time,” pleaded Wallace. “I suggest we go downstairs. +Mademoiselle will be anxious to hear what has transpired here.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard was agreeable, and the badly shaken Bertha accompanied them +to the drawing-room. The maid, having cleared up the mess, was +dismissed. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Fouchard, “we would like to hear exactly what happened in +your room.” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha had now recovered some of her habitual composure. She fidgeted +a little, and was obviously disinclined to go into details. Fouchard +had expected this. +</p> + +<p> +“It is better to tell the truth,” he said bitingly. “We want no +imaginary version.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch21"> +CHAPTER XXI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A PROPOSAL</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Bertha</span> bridled at Fouchard’s remark, and, to the detective’s +chagrin, she shrugged her shoulders and was silent. +</p> + +<p> +“Hm!” he grunted. “As I thought. You——” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait!” cried Yolande. “I would like to speak to Bertha myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“As you wish—as you wish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bertha,” said Yolande, in a well-controlled voice. “It is useless +beating about the bush. I know you are not the ordinary type of maid. +You came into my service with an ulterior motive—isn’t that so?” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha hesitated, and then inclined her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Good! Monsieur Fouchard—all of us, in fact—know that you are in +league with certain other persons, and that these persons and yourself +have a very definite object in view. Do you admit that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Mademoiselle Fallières, I want you to know that I have done my +utmost to be loyal to you——” +</p> + +<p> +“Loyal!” laughed Fouchard scoffingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Be silent, please!” said Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Fouchard may laugh, but it is true,” resumed Bertha. “You +have treated me with kindness, even though you have known for some +time that I have been masquerading. It is because of that that I have +begged you so often to leave this château——” +</p> + +<p> +“That is out of the question—but continue.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is true we have a definite object in view. I cannot tell you more, +for I am pledged to silence. But connected with the achieving of that +object there is considerable danger.” Her voice grew tenser. “Why do +you not take warning from what has already happened. The danger is not +from us, but from another.” +</p> + +<p> +“The creature who came into your room this evening?” put in Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is he also after the same thing as you?” queried Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I can tell you no more. If it were not that I have a great regard for +Mademoiselle Fallières I would not have said so much. Before I leave +the château I want to warn you again to take great care.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you are leaving me?” said Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible to stay longer, now that you know I am a +masquerader.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I have known it for some time. Bertha, are you being threatened +in any way—by those men? Are you a free agent?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Quite—quite free.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you imagine that I am going to let you slip away so easily?” +asked Fouchard bluntly. “I have kept my hands off you because it +happened to suit me, but——” +</p> + +<p> +“You are thinking of arresting me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am—and I can make things very uncomfortable for you. By your +silence you are attempting to defeat the ends of justice.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am in your hands,” said Bertha calmly. “But you make a mistake if +you think you can convict me of anything. I know the law fairly well, +m’sieur. I can prove a complete alibi in respect of the two murders.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you know who did them,” snapped Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“So do you, m’sieur.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard ground his teeth at this. It was then that Yolande formulated +an idea that had taken root during the last two minutes. +</p> + +<p> +“I propose an armistice,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, m’sieur! Bertha here is but one of a party of four. Suppose we +meet the other three at a round-table conference, and talk things +over?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard was aghast at the bare suggestion, and Wallace was a little +taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as I lay hands on Niels I shall arrest him,” threatened +Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No, you will not,” said Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“And why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I am making a special request of you. I want to be able to +assure Bertha on our words of honour that we will cease to wage war +against each other for twelve hours commencing to-morrow at noon. And +I want to beg Bertha to bring her friends here in order that I may put +before them an important proposal.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“That can be discussed later.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it is preposterous! Here are a gang of house-breakers, +kidnappers, and——” +</p> + +<p> +“The idea is good,” interrupted Wallace. “What has either side to lose +by adopting it? What do you say, Bertha?” +</p> + +<p> +“Is mademoiselle serious?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly serious. I would give much for peace. Fouchard—you will +consent?” +</p> + +<p> +“For twelve hours?” +</p> + +<p> +“No longer. If we fail to come to an agreement, we continue where we +left off. Isn’t it reasonable enough?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think it is insane,” grumbled Fouchard. “But if it is +mademoiselle’s sincere request, I can only answer, <i>noblesse oblige</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good man!” said Wallace. “What do you think about it, Bertha? Will +your friends accept?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot say. But if M’sieur Fouchard will permit me to leave the +château without making any attempt to follow me, I will do my best to +bring about a meeting here to-morrow evening at eight o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“I promise.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Fouchard,” said Yolande. “And thank you, Bertha. I think +we should be friends and not foes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would to God it were possible!” +</p> + +<p class="spacer"> +* * * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +On the following afternoon Niels and his two accomplices were talking +together in their retreat over a cup of tea. Walther and Heinrich were +their usual placid selves, but Niels wore an expression of impatience. +</p> + +<p> +“Rupert’s carelessness has ruined everything,” he said. “To let that +young devil escape——” +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t blame Rupert altogether,” said Heinrich. “Not one man in a +thousand would have risked a three-mile swim in the Channel at +nighttime. That young man has my admiration.” +</p> + +<p> +“He has my car,” snarled Niels. “We have to start all over again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Time is with us,” said Walther. “We know that Fouchard must go to +Paris in a few days. It will leave us to deal with the man Wallace.” +</p> + +<p> +“The other man may be back by then. The whole scheme has been ruined +by those two infernal Englishmen.” +</p> + +<p> +“But——” +</p> + +<p> +They all started as the door latch moved, and then uttered +ejaculations of surprise and welcome as Bertha entered the room. Niels +gazed at her a trifle suspiciously, for Niels had cause to believe +that Bertha was becoming too attached to Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“What now?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw him last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” +</p> + +<p> +“He entered my room. Oh, horrible—horrible. I was frightened, and +tried to run, but he lashed me to a chair and gagged me. Then he +produced a razor. I thought my last moment had come, but he laughed +madly and went out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think he recognised you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I felt I was choking, and tried to cry out. Some of the +servants must have heard me, but they were too scared to come it. They +brought Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard questioned me. Ultimately we went down to mademoiselle. Of +course, I could not say much.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you call <i>much</i>?” asked Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at all about—what we want. They—they know all about +me—about my connections with you men.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was obvious.” +</p> + +<p> +“I told mademoiselle I would leave at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because the situation is impossible. Her interest and ours conflict +so much that I refuse to masquerade any longer.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t,” said Walther, “since she already knows.” +</p> + +<p> +“What I mean is that I prefer to be an open foe—if that is the right +word. But wait! At the end she made a strange suggestion. She wants me +to bring you three to a kind of armistice conference. She says she has +an important proposal to put forward that may be acceptable to——” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid!” scoffed Niels. “And we are to walk up there and hold out +our hands for M’sieur Fouchard to slip his pretty bracelets over. +Really!” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me finish!” said Bertha. “There is more sense in this than you +imagine. Fouchard has given his word of honour that he will keep this +armistice to the letter—twelve hours from noon to-day. You can trust +him, Niels. This is no trick. He would not consent at first, but +mademoiselle won him over—with Wallace’s help.” +</p> + +<p> +“Queer situation!” mused Heinrich. “You have no idea what this +proposal embodies?” +</p> + +<p> +“None. She would not even tell Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be madness to go there,” said Niels. “What is there for us +to discuss with them?” +</p> + +<p> +“But if we can trust their words of honour no harm could come of such +a meeting. We have nothing against that party—except that they +obstruct us,” said Heinrich. +</p> + +<p> +“I agree,” put in Walther. “Armistices have a strange way of putting +an end to wars. Bertha is a splendid judge of character. She ought to +be in a position to assure us that there is no trickery behind this +invitation.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will absolutely vouch for them,” said Bertha. “Come, Niels, be +reasonable.” +</p> + +<p> +“So much is at stake,” said Niels grimly. “A false step and all will +be lost. I cannot see that any good can come of this, but I am willing +to fall in with you others. It will be a fine joke to chat with +Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eight o’clock to-night, then—at the château.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall be there. How did you get here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hired a car at Arveyes, but left it a good distance away. Have no +fear—the driver is an idiot.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll drive you back,” said Niels. “We’ve got a wonderful piece of +mechanism that drops spare parts all over the road. We drive it ‘all +out’ at twenty-five miles an hour. Perhaps I may induce mademoiselle +to sell me my own car?” +</p> + +<p> +So Bertha was dropped by Niels in the forest outside the château, for +he was not the type of man to take any unnecessary risk. Bertha at +once conveyed the news of her success to Yolande, who passed it on to +Wallace and Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Most irregular!” grumbled Fouchard. “What has she got up her sleeve?” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall soon know,” replied Wallace. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch22"> +CHAPTER XXII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE MEETING</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Niels</span> and his confederates arrived punctually on the stroke of +eight, and were shown into the drawing-room. Yolande and Bertha were +not yet present, but Fouchard and Wallace were. The former’s eyes +gleamed when they beheld the shaggy-headed Niels, and Niels returned +the look with interest. But Walther and Heinrich were bland as +usual—even smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Please sit down,” said Wallace. “Mademoiselle will be here in a few +minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“So we meet again, Mr. Wallace,” said Niels, as he occupied the big +armchair which was better suited to Walther’s frame. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course! Did you imagine we should not?” replied Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I had certain doubts.” +</p> + +<p> +“You probably overlooked the fact that Englishmen are a bit +amphibious.” +</p> + +<p> +“A novel idea—an armistice,” said Walther. “Did it originate with +Monsieur Fouchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“You know it didn’t,” said Fouchard. “But women usually get their way +with men. Make no mistake, my friends—my heart is not in this +table-talk.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor mine,” said Niels. +</p> + +<p> +Walther waved his big white hand, like the born peacemaker. +</p> + +<p> +“If we start like this, there isn’t much hope of success,” he said. +“At least let us keep the spirit of the thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hear, hear!” agreed Heinrich. “If m’sieur wants our heads he may have +them to-morrow or the next day. I’m sorry your sea voyage was +curtailed, Mr. Wallace. I quite envied you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah—here is mademoiselle!” said Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +Yolande entered the room with Bertha. She was attired in a black +velvet evening dress which suited her to perfection, and she smiled +and nodded at the men. +</p> + +<p> +“Please be seated,” she said. “I am sorry to be late. Bertha, will you +sit next your—friends?” +</p> + +<p> +Niels was twisting his thumbs impatiently, and Fouchard looked as if +he wanted to get the farce over. But Walther and Heinrich were more +resigned. There was something deeply arrestive in the pale majestic +figure of Yolande, and their eyes were focused on her all the time. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need for preliminaries,” she said. “Bertha has told you +exactly what has taken place recently. I have not much to say, but I +beg you to consider it carefully. In the first place, may I presume +that none of you have any animus against me or against my friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least,” said Walther. “We were compelled to take—certain +steps.” +</p> + +<p> +“Such as kidnapping?” put in Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Well—yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am right in assuming that there is something in or about this +château which it is your intention to remove?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is so,” replied Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“It is of value to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And to me?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Walther. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” added Niels firmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Which of you am I to believe?” +</p> + +<p> +There was no reply to this question, but Bertha looked hard at Niels, +and Walther moved uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“Once you have what you require you will trouble me no more—is that +so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely.” +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes grew a little hard, and the white hands on the polished +walnut table became clenched. +</p> + +<p> +“And the other party in this mystery—the elusive assassin who +murdered my father and Severin—will the removal of what you want +cause him to cease troubling us?” +</p> + +<p> +Niels murmured “Yes,” and the others nodded their heads. +</p> + +<p> +“Then he too wants the same thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“Why hasn’t he located it? He has been haunting this place for two +years—behaving like a demented creature. Does it mean you have a clue +that he does not possess?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Walther. “But——” +</p> + +<p> +Niels stopped him with a look. Yolande waited for him to resume, but +was met with a stony silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” she said slowly. “Here is my proposal—my offer. I give you +whatever lies buried here. You are here—on the spot. Take what you +want and leave me in peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” gasped Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean it. Remember your promise, Fouchard. They cannot take the +château or the land. I have no use for buried treasure, and if it +rids this place of that other murderous searcher then I shall be well +repaid.” +</p> + +<p> +The visitors were staring at each other curiously. Wallace imagined +there would be an immediate acceptance, but he was wrong. Niels’s face +was like a mask, and Heinrich looked doubtful. It was Bertha who +strove to work for peace. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not, Niels?” she begged. “Mademoiselle is generous. Don’t you +think——” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait!” said Niels. “Mademoiselle Fallières, would you permit us to +be alone for five minutes—no more?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly! Let us go to the terrace, Fouchard. Mr. Wallace, will you +get me a wrap from the hall?” +</p> + +<p> +When they had gone, Niels closed the door firmly behind them and came +back to the table. +</p> + +<p> +“They know nothing,” he said. “Nothing!” +</p> + +<p> +“But she has given her word, Niels.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would she keep it—in the circumstances?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“But would Fouchard? I tell you it is impossible. Walther—Heinrich, +are you mad, to think of such a thing? You know Fouchard by now. He is +out of sympathy with the whole thing. He might hold his hand to-night, +but not to-morrow. There would be no time. No—I will not have it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think Niels is right,” said Heinrich. “It requires more time. They +must be got out of the way. Fouchard is the greatest danger—he hates +us, and will never relent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think that, Walther?” asked Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I feel almost inclined to take the risk.” +</p> + +<p> +“Risk! There is no question of risk,” rasped Niels. “The outcome would +be inevitable. We must work alone I tell you. Besides, our chances are +better than ever before. Fouchard will go soon, and we have discovered +the other place. It means work—hard work—but there are four of us. +In four days we could achieve it, without coming here at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then have done with this parleying. Our interests are so opposed they +cannot be harmonised by any display of sentiment. I am finished.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. There is no more to be said. Shall I ask them to come inside?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait!” cried Bertha. “I believe you are all wrong. Delay might be +fatal——” +</p> + +<p> +“Call them in,” interrupted Niels. “Bertha, you must leave this in my +hands. I am grateful for all you have done, but the risks are greater +than you believe.” +</p> + +<p> +Bertha said no more, and Walther opened the door and brought Yolande +and the others from the terrace. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” asked Yolande. “Have you decided?” +</p> + +<p> +“We have,” said Niels. “We appreciate your desire to bring about a +peaceful solution, but it cannot be done. We regret we must decline +your offer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” said Fouchard, with his eyes sparkling. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry,” said Yolande heavily. +</p> + +<p> +“So much for talk,” scoffed Fouchard. “Now, my friends, we know where +we stand. I’ve wasted valuable time, but I’m going to get you before +long.” +</p> + +<p> +“Steady, Fouchard!” pleaded Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“I fear I must bid you good-bye, mademoiselle,” said Bertha. “I can +stay no longer.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will get my belongings.” +</p> + +<p> +As she left the room the telephone bell rang. Fouchard went to the +instrument and picked up the receiver. +</p> + +<p> +“Call from London,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect that is Conrad,” said Wallace. “I had forgotten he could get +through here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hello—hello! Yes, Mr. Wallace is here. This is Fouchard speaking. +How are you, Mr. Conrad?” +</p> + +<p> +“Does he want me?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace went to the telephone. Conrad’s voice came through quite +clearly. There was about a minute’s conversation and then they were +rung off suddenly. Wallace came to Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“He had discovered something,” he said. “He is coming over at once. +Jove, it must be important, for he has appointed a deputy at the +Congress. It has something to do with Steinbech.” +</p> + +<p> +“Steinbech! The name on the paper?” +</p> + +<p> +“So it is. I had forgotten.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard swung round to see Niels’s face curiously agitated, and +Walther seemed equally disturbed. +</p> + +<p> +“We seemed to have got on the trail by an accident,” mused Fouchard. +“Does Steinbech convey anything to you, my friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing!” snarled Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it does to me, and it does to Mr. Conrad, or he would not be +coming over here. Your decision just now was a trifle premature, it +seems. But it is too late to recant. At last we have the key to the +mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +Niels laughed scornfully, but it was obvious that the whole trio was +startled by this piece of news. When Bertha returned with her bag they +drove off, and Fouchard rubbed his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re on the trail. I knew the key lay in that piece of paper. Did +you see their expressions?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a pity we gave them warning,” said Wallace. “But for the moment +I forgot I had heard the name before.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why did they not accept my offer?” asked Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“They don’t trust us. Obviously the thing they want is of such value +they suspect we may change our minds later. Pity Conrad was cut off +like that. I want more information. Can I telephone him?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is in the provinces. I doubt if you could get on to him. Besides, +he said he was coming at once. If he leaves London to-morrow he may be +here by the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we must wait for him. Steinbech—Steinbech, and the figures! +What the devil do they mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Conrad evidently knows. It looks as if he has stolen all our thunder. +We haven’t been able to see the wood for trees.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if your optimism is justified,” said Yolande. “What did Mr. +Conrad say exactly?” +</p> + +<p> +“He said that by a stroke of wonderful luck he had stumbled across +what might prove to be the key to the solution of this mystery. He +said it all rested with a man named Steinbech, but instead of getting +down to brass tacks he started to tell me how he was walking up a +street in Manchester when he suddenly saw— The wretched operator cut +me off then.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if he means that he saw this man Steinbech. But he wouldn’t +know him if he did,” mused Fouchard. “It’s a pity he didn’t start his +story two minutes earlier.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose he reckoned there was plenty of time. He is always keen to +make a yarn of anything. Anyway we shall be seeing him within +forty-eight hours. What will be Niels’s next move, I wonder?” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch23"> +CHAPTER XXIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A CALL FOR HELP</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">A telegram</span> from Conrad arrived the next morning. It informed Wallace +that he would arrive at Arveyes on the ten o’clock train the following +morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” said Fouchard. “That will still give me two days. I was never +more keen to unravel a mystery in my life. I’ll come along with you +and meet him if I may.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace was quite agreeable, and he went into the garage to tinker +about with the Bentley. The first thing he saw was Watkins lying in a +corner with his hands bound and a gag in his mouth. Then he noticed +that the captured car was gone. +</p> + +<p> +“Damn!” he muttered, and set the chauffeur free. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened, Watkins?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +The chauffeur gasped for breath and rubbed his cramped limbs, +muttering something about “them blasted Huns” under his breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Last night,” he eventually said aloud, “I was just about to turn in +when someone knocked. I thought it was you or M’sieur Fouchard. Lumme! +I had scarcely poked my head outside the door when something was +clapped over my nose. It put me off in a jiff. That’s all I know about +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“They’ve taken their car.” +</p> + +<p> +“So that’s what they were after?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. We ought to have put it out of action.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard received the news with a scowl. +</p> + +<p> +“So much for their word of honour,” he said. “They used the first +opportunity to bring off a coup.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not so sure—this may have happened after midnight. I’m grateful +that they didn’t mess up the Bentley.” +</p> + +<p> +On the following morning the two men set out for Arveyes, arriving +there a trifle early. They discovered that the train was already forty +minutes late, so Fouchard killed time by visiting the local police, +whilst Wallace sat and smoked at the small café next the station. +</p> + +<p> +“Brilliant lot!” grumbled Fouchard on his return. “They haven’t a +notion where Niels and his friends are hiding. Here comes the train.” +</p> + +<p> +When the few passengers had alighted, it became apparent that Conrad +was not amongst them. There was no other long-distance train until the +evening, so they went back to Grammont in the hope of finding a +telegram. But nothing had arrived. +</p> + +<p> +“There would scarcely be time,” said Yolande. “It takes hours and +hours for a telegram to reach us. No doubt he realises that, and will +arrive by the next train.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder?” said Fouchard mysteriously. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t think that Niels——” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? That man would move heaven and hell to prevent our +discovering his secret. Last night he came and stole his car. They +must have pushed it a good way, for I sleep lightly and heard no +noise. Why did they need the car so urgently?” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove—yes,” said Wallace. “They had time to get to Calais and +waylay Conrad. I believe you have hit upon the truth, Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure of it. We were fools to give them the cue. Without Conrad’s +help we are as we were.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us wait and see what the next train brings,” pleaded Yolande. “To +kidnap anyone at Calais is not an easy matter.” +</p> + +<p> +So the two men went to the station in the evening, and saw the train +in. There were but a dozen passengers for Arveyes, and no Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“The devil!” said Fouchard viciously. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace came home alone, for Fouchard had business to attend to in +Arveyes, and said he would walk back later. He had scarcely got the +car into the garage when a small boy was seen nosing round the +château. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want?” asked Wallace in French. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Je cherche</i> M’sieur Wallace.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am he.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy produced a piece of paper from his blouse. Some words were +scrawled on it in French—so badly that he could scarcely decipher +them. But at last he succeeded. The message ran: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“<i>Am a prisoner at a farm three kilos from Basset. It is called Mont +Rouge. Messenger writing at my dictation as I cannot use hands.—</i> +</p> + +<p class="rt1"> +“<span class="sc">Conrad</span>.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +He bade the boy wait and went inside the château to find Yolande. She +saw at once that he had news of some importance. +</p> + +<p> +“A message?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—from Conrad. That gang have got him. Do you know a village +called Basset?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—it is twenty-five kilometres from here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Read that.” +</p> + +<p> +She did so and pursed her lips reflectively. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it a ruse?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think so. But I’ll get the boy in and see what we can wring +from him.” +</p> + +<p> +The wondering boy was duly cross-questioned. His story had every sign +of truth. He lived near Mont Rouge and had lost a kitten. On going +near the farm he heard strange noises. They came from a +cellar—through a grating. At first he ran away, but he crept back +again and saw a face. Gaining courage, he got closer. A man behind the +bars told him to write what he had written, and to bring it along to a +M’sieur Wallace, who would reward him. He did not see anyone else on +the farm. He thought the man who owned the place was away on holiday. +</p> + +<p> +“Sounds genuine enough,” said Wallace. “Let me look up the map.” +</p> + +<p> +He found Basset easily, and its position gave him reason to believe +that at last they had located the hiding-place of Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going there at once,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Better take Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“I left him in Arveyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can ring him up at the police station.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll try.” +</p> + +<p> +He got on to the gendarmerie, but was informed that Fouchard had just +left, and was on his way back to Grammont. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t wait, Yolande. When Fouchard comes back tell him where I have +gone. He can come after me. I hate to leave you alone, but I can’t +miss this opportunity.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you must go, of course. But I wish you were not alone. Why not +take Watkins?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he is better here,” he said significantly. +</p> + +<p> +Then he remembered an important fact, and asked the boy how he managed +to get to Grammont from so remote a place as Basset. The boy replied +instantly. He had climbed on to the tank of a motorcar after it had +stopped for petrol, and had had a free ride to within a mile of the +château. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s genuine,” said Wallace. “I’ll take him back with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You—you will take care?” she begged. “I fear they are capable of +violence in an emergency.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it. But Fouchard will know where I am He ought to arrive an +hour or so after me.” +</p> + +<p> +She went outside the château to see him off, and ere he departed she +gripped his hand warmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Come back soon,” she murmured. “You—you seem part of my very +existence.” +</p> + +<p> +It was so unexpected he let his foot slip on the clutch and the +Bentley almost jumped towards the gate. His heart was thrilled, for it +was the first definite sign of anything more than friendship on her +part. The boy had evidently never been a passenger in a fast car +before, and he sat huddled in the corner of his seat like a frightened +mouse, whilst the Bentley roared down the road. +</p> + +<p> +“Which way?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Tout droit!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Ten miles farther on the boy pointed to the left, but he left it +rather late and the car performed a nerve-racking skid. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Mon Dieu!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“All right, sonny! There are some lights in the distance. Is that +Basset?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy gulped and nodded, and a few minutes later the straggling +village was entered. It was a poverty-stricken district, for the war +had desolated the place, and all kinds of weird and wonderful +dwellings had been built upon the old ruins, out of corrugated iron, +old army huts and so forth. Beyond these there was a network of narrow +roads, and the boy’s local knowledge had to be resorted to at every +few minutes. +</p> + +<p> +At last Mont Rouge came to view. It was a squat farmhouse lying some +distance off the road, and the only vehicular approach was so deep in +mud that Wallace decided to leave the car under some trees, on a kind +of “island” near the junction of the farm-track with the main road. +</p> + +<p> +The boy showed no great desire to approach the dark farm, so Wallace +got a few more details from him, and paid him off. He then climbed +over the fence and made his way across the meadows to where Mont Rouge +could be seen silhouetted against the moonlit sky. So far as he could +see, there was not a gleam of light about the place, and he began to +fear that Conrad must have been taken away since he had sent the +message. +</p> + +<p> +He remembered to bring a small electric torch with him, and with the +aid of this he explored the back of the building, for the boy had +informed him that the grating through which he had seen the face of +Conrad was situated opposite an outhouse. He reached a door and gently +tried the handle. It was locked. The light from the torch revealed +tyre marks not far from him, and he saw that these led into a shed. +But the shed was empty, though there was evidence that a car had been +parked there recently. +</p> + +<p> +At last he found the grating. It was a small affair—less than a foot +in diameter and about the same depth. He knelt down and flashed the +torch through it. Immediately the ray fell on a familiar face, and he +uttered a low cry of joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +“Good lad! I wondered if you were coming.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is any of the gang here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not sure. I heard the car leave about three hours ago, but could +not see who was in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can I get in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you tried the doors?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve tried the one close by. Is there another at the front?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go there. Keep quiet—I’ll be with you before very long.” +</p> + +<p> +He went round the house and found the front entrance, but this, like +the back, was in darkness and the door was locked. There was a kind of +portico above it, supported by small pillars over which grew wistaria. +The gnarled trunk gave him footing, and he swarmed on to the top and +tried the bedroom window. It was latched, but there was room between +the sashes through which to insert the blade of his knife. In two +minutes he was inside. It was poorly furnished, contained an old +four-post bed and a few awful prints. The door led him into the +corridor from which a staircase descended. He went down this +cautiously, for the stairs were old and creaked badly. +</p> + +<p> +On reaching the hall he was in a quandary, for there were three doors +leading off, but after a moment’s reflection he chose the farthermost +one, believing that it would lead him to the kitchen and thence to the +cellar. He was turning the handle when he heard a noise from behind, +and swung round to see Walther facing him. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace’s hand dived for his pistol, but Walther divined his intention +and sprang at him like a panther. Despite his big size he was +wonderfully agile, and his hands reached Wallace before the pistol +could be got into action. The torch fell to the floor, but the hall +was well illuminated by a light from the room from which Walther had +emerged. +</p> + +<p> +“Got you!” grunted Walther. +</p> + +<p> +But he sadly underestimated the strength of his opponent. Wallace, +though two stone lighter, was built like a gun, and was literally +spoiling for a fight. He tripped Walther neatly, and the pair fell +with a resounding bump, clutched in each other’s arms. Wallace had the +good fortune to be on top, but his advantage did not last long. With a +Herculean effort Walther flung him backward, and in a second was on +his feet again. +</p> + +<p> +It was now plain pugilism, in which all the odds were on the younger +man. He forgot all about the pistol, and framed up to his stalwart +adversary. Walther had some knowledge of the game, but not enough to +compete with the trained boxer. In the confined space the fight went +on for five minutes—a savage affair in which hard blows were struck. +Then Walther began to show signs of distress. Reduced to the +defensive, he strove to cover his jaw from the lightning drives. But +Wallace was old at the game. He planted his right into the big ribs +and as Walther’s hands came down he drove his left to the jaw. +</p> + +<p> +There came a sound like a horse falling, and Walther’s fifteen stone +lay huddled up on the dirty linoleum. Wallace immediately dragged the +heavy body through the end door. It led to a stone-flagged kitchen and +on one side of it was a capacious larder, with two stout bolts on the +door. He shoved Walther inside and rammed home the bolts. +</p> + +<p> +Retrieving his torch he discovered the door which led to the cellar. +Twelve stone steps led down into the darkness, and there was another +bolted door at the bottom. Inside this, lying on a pile of wood and +coke, was Conrad, trussed like a fowl ready for roasting. +</p> + +<p> +“What happened?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Walther. I had to deal with him. By Jove, they didn’t mean you to +escape!” +</p> + +<p> +“They pushed a filthy rag into my mouth, but I managed to get rid of +it.… Did you hear that?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” +</p> + +<p> +“The car. They’re back!” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace heard it now—and voices. He slashed at the rope with his +knife, and the bonds fell away. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick!” he said. “We haven’t a moment to spare.” +</p> + +<p> +But Conrad was slow, for one of his legs refused to function properly. +Wallace rubbed it for him with all the vigour he possessed. +</p> + +<p> +“Better?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll get out the way I came in—upstairs and through the bedroom +window. Hurry!” +</p> + +<p> +They reached the kitchen and heard Walther dealing smashing blows at +the larder door. As Wallace reached the bedroom landing the front door +opened. He looked back and saw Bertha about to enter. She saw him and +also Conrad at the same moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Niels!” +</p> + +<p> +“Neck or nothing, Connie—come on!” +</p> + +<p> +Both of them jumped clean from the portico on to a soft patch of +pampas grass, and immediately made out of the garden and across the +fields. When they were close upon the road Conrad looked back and saw +two blazing car lights moving slowly—but towards them. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re giving chase,” he said. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch24"> +CHAPTER XXIV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">CHECK!</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Wallace</span> found his car and was moving in a few seconds. More by luck +than judgment he found his way through the network of roads into +Basset. From there it was straight going except for two turnings. +</p> + +<p> +“What was it you discovered, Connie?” +</p> + +<p> +“I discovered who Steinbech is, and I think I know what those figures +signify— By Jove, they’re following—and gaining!” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace could see the reflection of the other car’s lights in his +driving mirror. There were three persons aboard, so it was obvious +that Walther had been set free. +</p> + +<p> +“They are desperate this time,” he said. “They know that you have hit +upon the secret and mean to stop us from using that knowledge.” +</p> + +<p> +Zip! A bullet hit the road alongside the car, and the report followed +later. Wallace set his mouth firmly and “opened out.” At terrific pace +the Bentley roared up the road, but the lights in the driving mirror +seemed no farther away. +</p> + +<p> +Zip! Zip! Two more bullets hit the road and went whining into the air. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the devil!” said Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t us they are aiming at.” +</p> + +<p> +“The tank?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. That wouldn’t pull us up quick enough. The target is a back tyre. +God knows what will happen if they succeed, for the road is as greasy +as pork.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you got your pistol?” +</p> + +<p> +“In my pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to have a pot at them,” said Conrad. “Hanged if I can sit +here and calmly serve as a target.” +</p> + +<p> +He extracted the pistol and let off two rounds. But it seemed to have +no effect upon the speed of the overtaking car. +</p> + +<p> +“Let ’em come,” muttered Conrad. “I’ll plant a bullet or two in their +front tyres. That ought to cause them some excitement.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace eased off a trifle, but still maintained a prodigious speed. +The other car came nearer and nearer, and Conrad rested the barrel of +the pistol on the back of the seat. He was about to let loose when a +regular volley came from behind, and simultaneously a different kind +of report was heard closer at hand. Unfortunately the Bentley was just +taking the corner, when the near-side tyre became deflated from a +bullet puncture. The car bumped alarmingly, and got into a frightful +skid. Conrad had a kind of futuristic vision of hedges, signposts, and +telegraph post all jumbled up, and a second later he was flung clean +out of his seat and over the hedge. +</p> + +<p> +Wallace, more prepared for the inevitable, suffered less. He made a +great effort to prevent the car from overturning, and succeeded by +ramming her nose into a heap of sand on the roadside. But the violent +stoppage took the skin off his knees and elbows, and almost stunned +him. +</p> + +<p> +He saw the other car pass the turning and pull up dead. Three figures +leapt from it and made towards him. Vainly he searched for the +pistol—and was dumbfounded to discover suddenly that Conrad was no +longer with him. Niels came running forward with a pistol in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Put up your hands!” he snapped. +</p> + +<p> +In reply, Wallace picked up the jack-handle—a fairly heavy bar of +iron—and crouched behind the car. +</p> + +<p> +“Come and get me,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Better come quietly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Careful, Niels! Look!” +</p> + +<p> +Walther pointed up the road, and Niels cursed to see car lights +approaching at a great speed. Wallace turned his head sharply and +recognised the oncoming car. It was Yolande’s Hispano, and he had no +doubt that Fouchard was aboard. He waved his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“The police!” exclaimed Heinrich. “Quick!” +</p> + +<p> +The trio beat an instant retreat. Fouchard jumped from the Hispano +before it stopped and ran forward. He was followed by two gendarmes. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened? Was that Niels?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—the whole gang.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Mon Dieu</i>—after them, Laroche!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no use—you haven’t a chance,” said Wallace. “Conrad is lying +somewhere about—injured, I fear.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t miss this opportunity.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no opportunity. The Hispano can’t look at that car. They are off +already—see! I know where they hang out, and will direct you in a few +minutes. Help me find Conrad.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard fumed as the other car went speeding away. In any case, the +Bentley was too much across the road to permit the Hispano to pass.… +They found Conrad over the hedge. He had hit his head against +something and was quite unconscious. Wallace found a nasty wound just +over the right temple. +</p> + +<p> +“Better get him to the château, and call a doctor,” he said, after +they had carried Conrad into the Hispano. “The Bentley seems to be all +right except for a burst tyre, but her beauty is ruined.” +</p> + +<p> +After making sure that nothing else was wrong, Wallace sped them away +and then changed his back wheel. He overtook them before they reached +the château, and was able to help Fouchard carry Conrad to a bedroom. +Yolande came in with agitated face. +</p> + +<p> +“I have rung for a doctor,” she said. “Do you think he is seriously +injured?” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible to tell. What a rotten time he has had! Did you tell the +doctor it was urgent?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He should be here in a quarter of an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing I can do here,” said Fouchard. “Where exactly is +Niels’s rendezvous?” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace told him how to reach the place, and Fouchard started off +immediately with the excited gendarmes. The doctor lost no time in +coming to the château, and Wallace and Yolande awaited his verdict +anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Concussion,” he said. “He has sustained a bad blow, but I think there +is no danger. In all probability he will regain consciousness by +to-morrow morning.” +</p> + +<p> +He did all he possibly could for the unconscious man, and then left, +after promising to call on the morrow. +</p> + +<p> +“He ought to have a nurse,” said Yolande. “But it is impossible to get +one to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll shift my bed into his room,” said Wallace. “Poor old Connie! He +seems to receive all the bad knocks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he tell you how they managed to capture him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. There wasn’t time. I had scarcely set him free when Niels +returned. They followed us by car and burst my back tyre with a pistol +shot. But for Fouchard’s timely arrival, the pair of us would have +been taken back to the cellar.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you don’t even know what it is that he has to tell us?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the worst of it. He was about to tell me when the gang started +shooting. Here we are right on the verge of the solution, but helpless +until Conrad is able to speak.” +</p> + +<p> +Two hours passed before Fouchard returned with the Hispano. He was +covered with mud and would not say a word until he had had a clean up. +From this fact Wallace deduced that once again the gang had been too +smart for him. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Wallace at last. “Did you find the place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but the birds had flown. We ransacked it, but found nothing. +They had taken their bags and belongings, so it will be useless +looking there again.” +</p> + +<p> +“They haven’t gone far.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not so sure. Now that we have Conrad we can get to the bottom of +this thing. I think they have shot their last bolt.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is another hitch, Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Conrad has concussion. We shall learn nothing from him to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is bad luck. I am due in Paris to-morrow night. But I shall not +go.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you said——” +</p> + +<p> +“They will have to do without my evidence for a day or two. I am not +going to Paris before this affair is cleared up. I shall wire them +to-morrow. If it had been me that was thrown out of the car instead of +your friend I could not go to Paris. Very well, I will have concussion +or yellow fever.” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid!” said Yolande. “If it were not for poor Mr. Conrad I should +feel more hopeful to-night than I have felt for many days. I have an +intuition that we are coming out into the light.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard had a big pile of official documents to wade through, so he +offered to do the work in Conrad’s room. Wallace was grateful, but he +suspected that, although Fouchard’s offer was more or less +disinterested, he yet had hopes that Conrad might recover sufficiently +to be able to solve the enigma of the slip of paper. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad Fouchard is staying,” said Yolande. “For, despite his +belief, I feel sure that Niels has not yet thrown up the sponge. He +knows that Conrad has made an important discovery, but that may drive +him into making a last furious attempt to outwit us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps. But we should be able to deal with them.” +</p> + +<p> +They were walking up and down the terrace, with the light of the full +moon full upon them. From a tree in the abyss beneath them an owl set +up an eerie hoot, and Wallace felt Yolande’s hand close upon his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Only an owl.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dislike them intensely. I heard one on that dreadful night when my +father——” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t think of that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most of the horror has gone now. It was the first blow that was +almost unbearable. Do you believe in an after-life?” she added +suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I can’t see why there should be. If the soul is +immortal, why cannot it remember what it was before it entered our +bodies on this earth?” +</p> + +<p> +“It may all be there—in our subconscious mind. It seems to me that +all this love which we cherish—the vast pyramid of affection and +devotion that we build up from the day we are born—cannot be +shattered in a moment, as if it never existed. You know, sometimes I +feel that my father is with me—telling me to hold on, to have courage +and all will come right. It has helped to dispel depression, and +sometimes, when I have wakened in the middle of the night in one of +those appalling terrors that are born in dreams, I have imagined I +have seen him smiling at me. Do you think that is rubbish?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should it be? I’ll admit it has never happened to me. But that is +no argument.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you never afraid?” +</p> + +<p> +“What is being afraid? I don’t quite know. I certainly get a cold +sensation down my spine when queer things happen that I can’t account +for. I suppose all fear is a kind of ignorance. Even this—this +strange demented being who so consistently eludes us—would not be in +the least fearful if we knew exactly who he was, and all about his +intentions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t they the same as Niels’s?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the logical conclusion. Now you’re trembling.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help it,” she said. “I’m not afraid—not now, but I dread to +think of the day when you will go—for good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose I don’t go for good?” +</p> + +<p> +“But you must. Your work lies in England, and—well, of course, our +companionship must end. I shall never be able to express my gratitude +to you and Mr. Conrad for your help, and your company when I needed it +so badly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a curious tremor in his voice, and it caused her to draw her +breath quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“When I went away earlier in the evening you said that I—I had become +almost a part of your existence. Is that—quite true?” +</p> + +<p> +“I—I——” +</p> + +<p> +“You meant that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then let me know the worst or the best now. I love you, Yolande. It +seems an impertinence to tell you after having known you for only a +month. But I can’t help myself—I love you to distraction. It isn’t +friendship—or sympathy for a woman who has suffered much. Those count +too—but love dominates them. Tell me I’m not asking—too much?” +</p> + +<p> +She hung her head for a moment, and then raised it and looked straight +into his eyes, with orbs that seemed to contain a sacred fire. +</p> + +<p> +“I love you too, Ralph,” she replied softly. +</p> + +<p> +There in the moonlight, on the haunted terrace of the Château +Grammont, he kissed her on the lips, and thought he heard in place of +the hooting owl the carolling of celestial voices. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch25"> +CHAPTER XXV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE FINAL BLOW</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">By the</span> morning Conrad’s condition was little changed, though Wallace +thought that the pulse was a trifle stronger. His own rest had been +very broken, for the doctor had left instructions for hot-water +bottles to be applied to the sides and feet of the unconscious man, +and these had had to be refilled at intervals. The sight of his best +friend lying there so pallid and still affected him deeply, and robbed +him of some of the joy that Yolande’s confession had given birth to. +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard came in at an early hour to see how things were progressing, +but shook his head sadly when he saw the still form. He stayed while +Wallace took his bath, but nothing that he could do would bring a +sound from the closed lips. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m worried about him,” said Wallace. “If anything were to +happen——” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think there is any danger. I’ve seen cases of concussion +before. Once they come round they pick up very quickly. It’s such a +pity when he is in possession of valuable information. That paper——” +</p> + +<p> +“Damn the paper! I’m more concerned about Conrad.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s natural, of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen Yolande this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet. She said she would send for a nurse.” +</p> + +<p> +“I doubt if she will get one to stay. The château has such an evil +reputation. I wish the doctor would come. He said he would pay an +early visit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see that?” asked Fouchard suddenly. “He moved his lips, I’ll +swear! Look—there it is again!” +</p> + +<p> +There was no doubting it this time. Wallace’s heart beat a new note, +for it was the first movement of any kind that he had observed since +the night before. +</p> + +<p> +“Conrad!” cried Fouchard loudly. +</p> + +<p> +“S-sh! What the devil are you doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right—the usual thing. Sometimes a shout will arouse them +to full consciousness. Conrad!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t trust your medical knowledge,” grumbled Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Zut!</i> I’ve seen men with half their heads blown off brought round +this way. You feel his pulse—it is going well.” +</p> + +<p> +This was true, and there were more slight facial movements. +Fortunately the doctor turned up a few minutes later. He examined the +patient thoroughly and nodded his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he is coming round. In any case there is no need for +apprehension. I will leave some calomel pills which must be given to +him as soon as he becomes conscious. Did mademoiselle get a nurse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think she will be required. As a matter of fact, one hears +strange stories about the château. You might get a nurse from Paris, +but in the country where superstition is rife I fear that the grim +happenings here have an effect upon the natives. Well, the pulse is +much better. He is out of danger.” +</p> + +<p> +It was an hour later when Conrad opened his eyes, and tried to focus +them on objects about the room. At last they rested on Wallace’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +The pale face became querulous. Conrad was trying to recall the past, +without much success. It came as a shock to Wallace to realise that he +was not recognised. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know me, Connie?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph!” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid! That’s good enough for the time being. Don’t worry, old +man. It will all come to you in time.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard slipped through the door, and smiled joyfully to see the +patient’s eyes open. +</p> + +<p> +“So he’s come round?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But you aren’t going to start bombarding him with questions +yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“It wouldn’t take a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +“He wouldn’t understand. What difference does an hour or two make?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not. What’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace called “<i>Entrez!</i>” in response to the soft knock on the door, +and a maid entered. He thought she had come to tidy up the room, but +instead she broke into voluble French, with much hand movement. Her +brogue was so strong he did not get the gist of it for a moment, but +Fouchard’s expression, coupled with the mention of “mademoiselle,” was +enough to set his heart bounding. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” he queried. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle—has vanished.” +</p> + +<p> +“Great heavens!” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard turned to the trembling girl, wagging his finger at her as if +she were a child. +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure mademoiselle did not sleep in her room last night?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Mais non</i>, m’sieur. Come and look.” +</p> + +<p> +“Great God!” cried Wallace. “This is terrible!” +</p> + +<p> +They followed the maid into Yolande’s room. There was no sign of any +disturbance, and the bedclothes were turned back neatly. On the pillow +was Yolande’s white nightdress folded up. +</p> + +<p> +“Who saw her last?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I did,” replied Wallace. “I said good night to her outside her door +at about ten-thirty.” +</p> + +<p> +“This looks bad.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bad!” Wallace became inarticulate with apprehension. His brain seemed +to snap as he thought of the creature who had presumably committed two +foul crimes already. The awful elusive form, with a naked razor— +“What is to be done, Fouchard? What can one do?” +</p> + +<p> +But Fouchard looked stumped. He stood biting his finger-nails +viciously, staring from window to bed and back again. Yesterday he had +been boasting about nearing the solution, and now had happened what +looked like being the most ghastly business of all. +</p> + +<p> +“We—we’ve got to look,” he said in a low voice. “There’s a chance—a +bare chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s start then—for the love of God!” +</p> + +<p> +“The cellar—where we found the others. And if by a stroke of luck you +see that fiend, shoot—and shoot to kill. But I’m afraid—terribly +afraid——” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace pulled himself together. He dreaded the cellar as he would +hell itself, but there was no time for cowardice of that nature. With +Yolande had gone the very light of his existence. He found himself +filled with insensate rage and hate, and Fouchard’s advice was totally +unnecessary. +</p> + +<p> +They trod the various passages that led to the vaults, looking for +anything that might serve as a clue—but in vain. Fouchard switched on +the light and they descended the steps. So still was everything that +their breathing sounded amazingly loud, and Wallace imagined he could +actually hear the thumping of his heart. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll start here and examine every yard of the place,” said Fouchard +in a sepulchral voice. “Look out for footprints!” +</p> + +<p> +Under the arches they went, eyes keen and ears alert. There was a damp +patch at the end of the first arcade, but it was unmarked by any +footprint. Wallace winced when he suddenly saw the big barrel in which +Fallières’s body had been discovered. He went to it but it was empty. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something white!” said Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t——” +</p> + +<p> +“There—ahead!” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace ran to it, and picked it up. It was a cream-coloured +handkerchief—a small embroidered thing with the initials “Y.F.” in +the corner. It exuded the scent of roses. +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande’s!” +</p> + +<p> +“That proves it.” +</p> + +<p> +“He carried her here. She must be here—somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“But where?” +</p> + +<p> +Every article that could hide a human form was moved, but the small +handkerchief remained the sole clue. Yolande had disappeared as +completely as if the earth had engulfed her. After an hour of it +Fouchard gave it up, but Wallace went over the place yet again—hoping +against hope. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no use,” said Fouchard. “We’re beaten.” +</p> + +<p> +“Beaten! She must be somewhere. If he had— Ugh! It’s too terrible to +think about.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall make no progress down here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what does this handkerchief signify? Why was Fallières’s body +found here—and Severin’s?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know it is very mysterious but what more can we do? This is a +different case. I believe that Yolande is still alive.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have no grounds——” +</p> + +<p> +“I know. It’s just a feeling. Wherever the Monster is hiding, there we +may hope to find mademoiselle. I am going to try the chapel again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you told me there was no possibility of anyone hiding there. It +is little more than four bare walls.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, I will look.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I shall go up to the gallery. To think of her—with that +Thing——” +</p> + +<p> +He left Fouchard, and for two hours roamed all over the château. At +last he was compelled to accept defeat, and went back to Conrad +feeling that he was going mad. The incapacitated man was making +progress, for he recognised Wallace immediately. +</p> + +<p> +“How are you feeling, old man?” asked Wallace brokenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I—my head. I can’t think what happened to me. Why am I here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you remember the car—and the accident?” +</p> + +<p> +“Car! Yes, there was a car. You were driving madly and someone was +shooting——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—yes. Go on!” +</p> + +<p> +“There was a cellar and a grating—and you were looking through at +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was before the accident. Conrad, try to understand me. Yolande +has gone—that devil has got her. We have a slip of paper with figures +on it and a name. You came from England because you had discovered +something. Can’t you remember what it was? It may lead me to Yolande.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande! Gone!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. God help her! Try to concentrate.” +</p> + +<p> +While Conrad wrestled with the disintegrated segments of his mind, +Fouchard knocked and entered. +</p> + +<p> +“No luck!” he said bitterly. “Why, he is conscious!” +</p> + +<p> +“S-sh! He’s getting a grip on things.” Then he questioned Conrad: “Do +you remember the name Steinbech?” +</p> + +<p> +“Steinbech! Why, that was it—Steinbech. It was a book—I brought it +with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“A book!” gasped Fouchard. “Where is it? What did it contain about +this place?” +</p> + +<p> +“In my luggage—only a small book.” Then, with a great effort: “Why +can’t I think?” +</p> + +<p> +“The devil!” exclaimed Fouchard. “His luggage is missing. Whatever +that book contained we shall not know. That was Niels’s object—to +prevent the book from reaching us.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Conrad will know its contents. Connie, can’t you—can’t you +remember?” +</p> + +<p> +Again came a fearful mental struggle on the part of the sick man. +Beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead, and his breathing +became laboured. Wallace winced to see him so distressed. +</p> + +<p> +“Rest, old man,” he said. “It will all come in time. Don’t force it +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going over to Mont Rouge again,” said Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What for?” +</p> + +<p> +“This book he mentions. If I can find his bag, there may be just a +chance that the volume is still inside it. It may be hours yet before +he is in a fit state to enlighten us, and time is precious.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take the Bentley then—it is faster. Watkins will drive it for you. +But it is a hundred to one that they have destroyed the book.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t afford to miss a chance.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard went off in a hurry. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch26"> +CHAPTER XXVI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">YOLANDE’S ORDEAL</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">When</span> Yolande left Wallace at the door of her room, her heart had +been full to overflowing. Out of all the stark horror and pain that +had filled her life for the past month, this great joy had emerged +like a beautiful butterfly from a dead chrysalis. A long time ago she +had persuaded herself that love of that sort was not for her. Her +father’s great bereavement had caused her to take stock of her life. +She knew that in her Fallières saw the image of his dead wife, and, +although he would have been the last man in the world to have demanded +sacrifices, she had arrived at a decision which she thought would help +to compensate him for his loss. +</p> + +<p> +Now Fate had taken affairs into her own hands. The man of destiny had +magically appeared in the almost monasterial precincts of the Château +Grammont. She had started by admiring him, and had ended by realising +that he had started a train of emotions that could never be stilled. +</p> + +<p> +She did not go to bed at once, for this pleasant revelation was such +as to render sleep impossible at the moment. Her lips still tingled +from Wallace’s last kiss, and she wanted that delicious sensation to +remain. In her was a lot of the child—the wondering child that stared +in awe at birds, flowers, and sunshine. She now stared at her own +reflection in the mirror, and wondered what it was exactly that had +caused Wallace to love her. Then she grew a little ashamed to realise +that she could be happy when her father’s murdered body had lain in +the grave for less than a month. +</p> + +<p> +“Still, I love him,” she thought. “I can’t help myself. Daddy +dear—you will understand.” +</p> + +<p> +She extracted a dozen hairpins, and let her abundant tresses fall in +rippling waves over her shoulders. As she brushed them she paused and +smiled, and then laughed softly. Life was all so wonderful, despite +black clouds and pangs of pain. Her eyes wandered to the vase of roses +which had dropped blood-red petals on the dressing-table. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor flowers,” she murmured, “to fade so soon!” +</p> + +<p> +As she lifted her eyes to the mirror, the brush dropped from her +fingers. There in the polished glass, grim and horrible against the +soft decorations of the room, loomed a shape that seemed to freeze the +very blood in her veins. It was the Thing she had seen as a child—the +hooded Monster of the château. Turning, she saw it face to +face—within two yards of her paralysed form. Her mouth opened to give +vent to a scream of terror, but her tongue seemed cloven to the roof +of her mouth, and no sound came. +</p> + +<p> +A long arm came from out of the dirty brown gown. She saw the fingers +and nails—horrid! Within the hood were two bloodshot eyes and a +hooked nose. A moment of unspeakable terror, and then she was caught +up as if she were a child. All power of resistance had gone, and that +pleasant rose-strewn world which she had enjoyed for so brief a spell +vanished like an evening afterglow. +</p> + +<p> +She was being borne swiftly along corridors—she knew not whither, for +her mind had become almost a complete blank. Then something closed +with a hollow thud and acted as a spur to her volition. She tried to +free her arms, but they were held as if by bonds of steel. For the +first time her voice functioned, and gave utterance to a wild shriek. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t cry—I shall not harm you!” +</p> + +<p> +It was German and she had difficulty in understanding it, for the +voice which spoke the words was like no other voice she had ever +heard. If an ape could talk she thought it would be like this. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me go!” she gasped. +</p> + +<p> +To her surprise she was put down, but a hideous paw still retained her +left arm. She was in a long passage, cemented all over and illuminated +by electric light. It ran straight as an arrow to a door at the end. +Half-dragged, half-led, she reached this door. Her captor kicked it +open with his enormous boot, and she saw steps leading down into a +less well-lighted place. Lying about were all kinds of unusual +things—rusted canteens, helmets, some wooden cases, several strange +instruments. Yet another door confronted them. This bore a big +padlock, with the key in it. The hooded giant turned it, and they +entered a large chamber containing furniture of sorts. +</p> + +<p> +“There!” he grunted, and let her go. +</p> + +<p> +He gathered the folds of the cloak closely around him and stood +looking down at her, holding his queer garment close under his hooked +nose. +</p> + +<p> +“Why—why have you done this?” she pleaded. “Who are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“S-sh! I was just in time. It is safe here. They are a cunning lot up +there. But we shall beat them yet. Did you hear the firing just now?” +</p> + +<p> +The eyes were ablaze. She saw him slip his hand under the robe, and +uttered a low cry as he pulled out an old razor and slowly opened it. +</p> + +<p> +“Better than a gun,” he mumbled. “They do not fear guns. This makes no +noise. Quietly, quietly I move—in the dark, and they do not see.” +</p> + +<p> +He was stropping the blade of the razor over the palm of his hand with +rhythmic, rapid movements. She closed her eyes, expecting death, but +when she opened them again he had put the weapon away, and was hunting +for something in the corner. +</p> + +<p> +Piled there were dozens of wooden boxes, the majority of which were +open. She saw to her astonishment that these were filled with square, +empty tins which exuded a foul smell, and some of the boxes were +stencilled with the War Department mark of the German Government. It +was immediately clear that here was the chief means by which the +Monster had managed to live—field rations abandoned by the Germans in +their hasty retreat from the château. But now the store seemed +practically exhausted, for it was some minutes before her captor found +an unopened tin, and ripped the top off by pulling at the patent +contrivance with which it was provided. +</p> + +<p> +To her surprise the contents appeared to be quite fresh, but the +pervading odour of the piles of old tins was sufficient to sicken her. +He turned out the slab of meat on to a time-worn enamel plate, and +then went searching for a second plate, which he ultimately found. +Dividing the meat into equal portions he set one before her. When she +did not eat at once, he appeared to ascribe it to the fact that she +possessed no knife nor fork, and went searching among the pile of +oddments again, until he found what he wanted. With them he brought a +bottle of wine, already opened, and a large mug. +</p> + +<p> +“We eat now,” he mumbled. “It is safer down here. The wine is good. +You must drink the wine, Minna.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not Minna. You’re making a mistake. For pity’s sake let me +go—let me go!” +</p> + +<p> +The hysterical cry had a different effect upon him to anything she +imagined. He made a hideous noise with his mouth, and, dropping the +plate, brandished the knife before her. +</p> + +<p> +“No squealing! I won’t have it. Dying’s nothing. I’ve seen ’em die by +hundreds. We’ve got to hold on here—orders are to hold on.” Then, in +a lower voice: “There are those people prowling about—searching, +searching. But they’re not clever enough by a lot. I’ll get another of +’em to-night—maybe the young one with the blue eyes that drives so +fast, or that other swine with the hair. They’re working back there in +the mine—three of ’em and a woman. I’ve seen ’em— Drink, Minna,” he +added piteously. “You’re trembling. Of course it’s hard for a woman, +and you should have stayed away.” +</p> + +<p> +She was trying to understand his rambling talk. It was now evident +that he was demented, and that in his present mood he meant her no +harm. On the contrary, he made affectionate gestures, which if +possible terrified her more than his threats. To pacify him and in +order to give her mind a chance to think clearly she made a pretence +to eat. +</p> + +<p> +While she did this he slunk away into the corner with a plate of food +and the remainder of the wine, eating with his back towards her. Some +of her courage was coming back after the initial shock. She realised +that only cool thinking and subtle acting could save her. She had had +no notion of the existence of this vault in which she sat, and +concluded that it must have been tunnelled out during the months when +the château was occupied by the Germans. The scattered array of army +accoutrement was sufficient to endorse this, but where it started and +where it ended were mysteries. +</p> + +<p> +But the biggest mystery was this enormous demented creature, who +apparently lived here. Where did he come from? Then she recalled his +remark about the “three men and a woman” working back in the “mine.” +That he was referring to Niels and his party was certain, and the news +was interesting, for it led her to the conclusion that the underground +passage must lead to the abandoned tin-mine in the forest. +</p> + +<p> +Soon he slouched back to her, carrying a pile of blankets. He spread +these out on the floor, and muttered to himself as he groped about +again. The object of his search proved to be a dirty pillow. This he +patted as if it were something alive, and laid it at the top of the +blankets. +</p> + +<p> +“Sleep time,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not tired.” +</p> + +<p> +“Must sleep. I go up above.” +</p> + +<p> +It was what she wished him to do, for the clammy atmosphere of the +place seemed to choke her. With his departure the way might be open +for escape. She thought of Wallace and Fouchard within a few hundred +yards of her—anxiously searching—— +</p> + +<p> +“The young one to-night,” he said. “It makes one less—always one less +of the cursed brood.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced his awful razor and began to strop it again. A cold +shudder went down her spine, as she realised the menace to the man she +loved. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“I do it for you,” he said. “Pah! it is no time for sentiment. We must +fight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a foolish question. Minna, you are tired. You do not know +what you are saying. Look at that! A new one I found.” He held up the +naked razor. “There’s the man Fouchard. He’s a smart one—but I’ll get +him too—perhaps at the same time. Sleep well, Minna—sleep well.” +</p> + +<p> +He pulled the obscuring hood even tighter, and walked with remarkable +agility towards the door through which they had entered the place. It +closed after him with a dull thud—like the fall of earth upon a +coffin. +</p> + +<p> +Immediately she rose to her feet, and gave her mind entirely up to the +question of escape. But on reaching the door she found it was bolted +from outside. It was so stoutly built that she had no hope of +battering it down. The only alternative was to try the other door, +which her captor had hinted led to the mine. +</p> + +<p> +Here she was more successful, for the only fastening was on the +inside. It was a heavy iron bolt, which called for all her strength to +withdraw it. When she swung the door open she found herself looking +into a dark opening tunnelled through the earth, and prevented from +collapse by a series of props. It was damp and chilly, and for a +moment she hesitated. But it was only necessary to think of that +terrifying creature who had just left on his murderous quest, to find +the courage to go on. +</p> + +<p> +She moved slowly down the narrow passage, and for a hundred yards it +ran dead straight. Looking behind her she could see the small oblong +of light made by the open door. But now the tunnel took a sharp +turn—beyond which was pitch blackness. With quaking heart she moved +forward, her feet sinking into mud at times. Moreover there were rats. +She could hear them scampering and squealing about her. +</p> + +<p> +The horror seemed less by contrast with the immediate past. Half +suffocated from lack of oxygen, she went on, feeling her way with her +hands. Now there were boards under her feet, and the sound of her +footsteps echoed weirdly. Then water was encountered. It increased in +depth until it was over her ankles. Still she waded on, with her mind +fixed inflexibly on her object. +</p> + +<p> +The passage seemed to widen, for no longer could she feel both walls +by stretching out her arms, and the air seemed less vitiated. How far +she had come she had no idea, but she recalled that the mine was over +a mile from the château—a mile of this! +</p> + +<p> +A little later a terrible doubt entered her mind. She had the feeling +that she was moving round in a circle. So strong was this impression +that she moved away from the crumbling wall, with the idea of finding +the opposite one. She took a dozen steps, but found nothing. Stumbling +over stones and sinking into mud, she moved quicker, but her groping +hands found no obstruction of any kind. She seemed to be +lost—entombed in the bowels of the earth. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch27"> +CHAPTER XXVII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE BOOK</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Suspense</span> and anxiety were wearing away Wallace’s nerves. Despite +Fouchard’s belief that Yolande was still alive, he found himself +taking a pessimistic view. Fallières had been murdered, then Severin. +A similar attempt had been made upon Fouchard. Why should Yolande be +any more immune than these? +</p> + +<p> +In any case the alternative was equally appalling. He imagined her in +all the sweetness and charm of her youth—in the clutches of that +abysmal Monster. And here he was as helpless as a kitten to intervene. +He paced up and down the sick-room, utterly unable to concentrate his +mind on anything. Niels and the others now were reduced to negligible +proportions. They at least were human in their actions. +</p> + +<p> +He wondered where they were, what they were doing? Whether the +knowledge of Conrad’s yet unrevealed discovery had caused them to +abandon their quest? But again and again his mind reverted to the +dominating factor—the Monster. Seeing Conrad lying quiet with his +eyes closed, he decided to start investigations anew. Beyond the +château proper there were outbuildings—potting-sheds, hot-houses, +and so forth. No place was too trivial to be left unexplored. He found +the gardener, who had heard the news, and went with him to various +sheds and corners. But these places yielded no more information than +the others. +</p> + +<p> +“It is terrible, m’sieur,” said the man. “None of us is safe here. +That is no human shape that walks and slays. I remembered poor M’sieur +Severin saying the same thing a month ago, when the master was +murdered. And always the worst happens when the moon is at the full.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing in that, André.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is much, m’sieur. I would not leave my wife alone at nights +when the moon is full—here.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace did not feel in the mood to rebuke him for his superstition, +for at least he was basing his remark upon apparent facts. +</p> + +<p> +“She was so sweet,” mused the old gardener, his eyes filling with +tears. “Always a kind word for us poor folk, and a gift of clothing +when the winter came in. What shall we do now?” +</p> + +<p> +“You must not rush to conclusions, André. Your mistress may yet come +back.” +</p> + +<p> +But André had no such hope. To him the thing was sun-clear. The +Monster had made another sacrifice to the devil at the full moon. Even +if Wallace had been in the mood for argument it would have made no +difference. André was only saying what all the peasants were +whispering. +</p> + +<p> +“And I had gathered these figs for her,” he said, holding up a basket +full of purple fruit. “The first this season, m’sieur, and a splendid +lot. She loved figs.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have never seen this creature, André?” +</p> + +<p> +“God be praised—no! But if I should, m’sieur—if I should—then—” He +picked up a mattock and balanced it in his hand, while his kindly eyes +blazed with hate. “I am getting old, but my arms are yet strong.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the m’sieur who had the accident—is he recovering?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad. M’sieur, I should tell you that I saw that woman Bertha +this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bertha!” +</p> + +<p> +“She was in the forest alone, as I came towards the château. I always +liked her because she took such an interest in the garden. But somehow +I have felt that she was not what she pretended to be.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are right.” +</p> + +<p> +“She tried to hide when she saw me, but I let her see that it was too +late. Then she came to me, with a face that was very, very pale, and +begged me to say nothing about having seen her. I did not promise +that, for if the mistress had asked me about her I should have to tell +her. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> I did not know then that she—she too had gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you see Bertha?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was between my cottage and the château. She was not doing +anything—just sitting on a fallen tree deep in thought.” +</p> + +<p> +“You did not see any men—strangers?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace reflected on this as he walked into the château. It certainly +looked as if the gang had not yet given up all hope. They might have +heard what had happened to Conrad, and still believed it was possible +to make a coup before Conrad was able to reveal what he had +discovered. But Wallace’s interest in that direction had waned a +little. What matter hidden treasure when Yolande’s life was in +jeopardy—or worse? +</p> + +<p> +He found Conrad looking considerably better, and he greeted Wallace in +almost his normal style. The latter adjusted the bandage about his +head, for it had slipped and become a trifle loose. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks, old man! I’m feeling heaps better. Any news?” +</p> + +<p> +“None.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re worrying a lot, aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Connie, there’s something I want to tell you. It was only last +night that I told her—Yolande—what I had been aching to tell her +almost since I first met her.” +</p> + +<p> +“You—you mean you——” +</p> + +<p> +“I love her. That’s the plain truth.” He clenched his fists. “That +makes it all the more terrible. She was happy—I swear she was happier +than she has been for as long as I’ve known her. On top of that comes +this awful bolt. I’ve hunted everywhere—everywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“I—I understand. Where is Fouchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“Gone to that place where I found you—Mont Rouge. He hopes to find +the book you mentioned. Your bag may be there—somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“The book! My mind is still all sixes and sevens. This concussion +business plays the weirdest tricks. It was a book written by a +man—what was his name?” +</p> + +<p> +“Steinbech.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it. I saw it somewhere—in a foreign bookseller’s shop in +Manchester.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! You’re getting it now.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad passed his hand across his brow several times. Then suddenly +his eyes lighted up, and he dragged himself into a sitting position. +</p> + +<p> +“I was reading it in the train—on my way to Arveyes. Those cunning +devils boarded the train at a wayside station. They doped me, and must +have got me out at the next station—pretended I was taken ill. But +the book! I was reading it when— Great Scott! I remember. I slipped +it into my pocket!” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it—I’m positive. I saw Niels’s ugly face in the corridor—and +Walther. I was expecting trouble, for the train was nearly empty. I +slipped— Is that my coat over there?” +</p> + +<p> +But Wallace was already making for the garment. He felt in all the +pockets and produced a pipe, tobacco-pouch, and various oddments, but +there was no book. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course they have taken it,” he said gloomily. “No doubt they have +destroyed it by now. But I might get a copy in Paris and——” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad suddenly laughed and beckoned Wallace to him. From the things +which the latter held in his hands Conrad selected a travel-ticket +case bearing Cook’s name. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bet they overlooked this,” he said. “Before I was doped I amused +myself in the train by making a rough translation of several passages +from the book in question—passages to which I believe those figures +refer. Here we are—intact.” +</p> + +<p> +From the case he extracted three sheets of paper, covered with +somewhat shaky writing. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you remember the first reference number?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Twenty-seven.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is it. I made a note of the page on the corner; because it +seemed obvious that the figures were page references. The volume was +entitled <i>The Grammont Salient</i>, and it was the title which arrested +my attention. Hear what our friend Steinbech has to say.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace sat down very close to the bed, and Conrad read what was +written on the first sheet: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“<i>The pressure to the north and south of the château continued to +increase daily, and it soon became evident to General von Urel that +the château was in grave danger of being recaptured by the enemy, and +our line forced to retreat beyond the Forêt de Grammont. The château +was the key to the whole position, and it came to our knowledge that +the attacking forces had instructions to spare it as much as was +commensurate with safety. Foreseeing the danger that would follow a +sudden strong encircling movement, our commanding officer made plans +to fashion a line of retreat which could be resorted to in the event +of the château falling into the hands of the enemy. It was to take +the form of a tunnel leading from the vaults of the château to some +point farther back in the forest which would give access to our second +lines…</i>” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“By Jove!” exclaimed Wallace. “I am beginning to see light. But carry +on.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no more here. The author goes off at a tangent. Unless I am +very much mistaken, the second figure was thirty-one. Is that so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad commenced to read the second excerpt: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“<i>It was necessary that the tunnel should run back for at least a +mile, and considerable difficulty was experienced in finding terrain +suitable for the work. The problem was solved by the discovery of an +old mine whose extensive workings ran in an easterly direction. These +would save the sappers at least a quarter of a mile of tunnelling. +This site was chosen as the best possible outlet, and our second line +was advanced a little in order to connect up with it. A company of +sappers was detailed for the work, and, while the enemy penetrated +deeper and deeper on our flanks, the work went on.… In spells of four +hours’ duration the sweating, mud-begrimed crews worked, and our +hearts beat easier as each day saw another long stretch added to the +last. All the time the guns were…</i>” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“Nothing more that is informative,” said Conrad, breaking off. “We saw +that old mine. Do you remember?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But he doesn’t say how this tunnel is approached from the +château.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are coming to that. Our author is inclined to ramble a lot. My +next and last extract is from page thirty-six. That I know agrees with +the figure.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace’s face became even more eager, for it was apparent that the +last extract was the most important of the three. Conrad cleared his +throat: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“<i>Pending the arrival of reinforcements, it was obvious that the +château must fall, and it was the General’s chief concern to keep the +existence of the tunnel secret, in order that it might be used again +in a similar emergency, for we had every reason to believe that the +withdrawal would be temporary. Means had to be devised to fashion an +entrance which would render discovery unlikely. The vault was roughly +comprised of five series of arches running east to west. The third +series was furnished with wine-bins for almost its entire length, and +the wall at the western extremity was similarly furnished. It was here +that the entrance was made. The last section of bins was temporarily +removed, and an opening excavated through the massive wall. By +replacing the bins and hingeing them vertically, it was a simple +matter to use them as a doorway. By skilful carpentry this door closed +of its own accord, and the wood lining at the back of the bins made +discovery extremely improbable. The metal hinges were on the inside +and invisible.… It was a comfort to feel that we had this safe line of +retreat, for every day…</i>” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“The rest is of no value to us. As you know, the château was +recaptured and held ever after. It has always been a mystery how the +garrison got safely away, but it is clear enough now.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, and all this time—” Wallace’s hands opened and closed +spasmodically. “She’s there, Connie. I’ll stake my life on it. That’s +where the Monster hides himself away. It accounts for many things that +hitherto were difficult to explain. By some means he got to know of +that secret passage. The Book—he must have seen——” +</p> + +<p> +“No, that was not possible. The book has not been published more than +six months, while the Monster has been here for nearly two +years—according to Yolande. What is his game? What is he after?” +</p> + +<p> +“Niels, too. I’ll bet he is after the same thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything points to that. It may be something left behind by the +Germans in their hurried retreat.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are welcome to it. It is Yolande that matters to me.” He rose, +and his face looked very grim. “I’m going there now, Connie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait until Fouchard——” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t wait if my life depended on it. If Yolande is down there +she will be crazy with terror by now. But I fear——” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad knew what he feared, and from his own grim expression it was +evident that he too believed the worst. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s big and murderous, Ralph.” +</p> + +<p> +“All the more reason why I should not waste a moment. When Fouchard +comes, tell——” +</p> + +<p> +“If you go, I go,” said Conrad calmly. “Throw me over my pants and +boots!” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It is impossible!” +</p> + +<p> +“Get out! You’re a first-class fighter, laddie, but you are up against +something supernormal. I’m all right—for pistol-practice, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +He was already sitting on the bed, and Wallace realised that argument +was useless, for Conrad could be as cantankerous as a mule when he +felt disposed, and he was in that state now. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve got a second pistol in the car?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, hang! I clean forgot—Fouchard has the car. You had better take +this one, and I’ll rely on a bludgeon. Fortunately I have an electric +torch in my pocket. Are you sure you are fit enough to engage in +this?” +</p> + +<p> +“It only required this bit of excitement to complete my cure. Hadn’t +we better leave a note for Fouchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good idea! Make it short!” +</p> + +<p> +A short message was left under the medicine bottle, telling Fouchard +where the entrance to the tunnel lay, and then the pair sallied forth +on their quest, Wallace arming himself with a hatchet en route. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch28"> +CHAPTER XXVIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">PRISONERS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">In the</span> meantime, Yolande had suffered every terror that the human +mind could conceive. She had wandered round and round in the +blackness, stumbling against débris, falling into stagnant pools of +water, until exhaustion overcame her, and for a period she lost her +senses completely. +</p> + +<p> +She was awakened by a strange noise—a curious bellowing voice that +reverberated through the cavern. It was calling something—“Minna,” +she thought, and, as her brain became clearer, she realised with a +start of horror that her late captor had returned from his murderous +quest and was searching for her. The voice came nearer and nearer, and +then a soft glow split the darkness. She blinked at the relative +brilliance, and saw that she was near the side of a big excavation, +from which passages branched off in several directions. The light was +shining from an opening immediately opposite her. +</p> + +<p> +With a murmur of horror she slipped behind a mass of rock, and in fear +and trembling waited for the emergence of the seeker. Through a cleft +in the rock she saw him at last. He was holding up a lighted match, +the flickering flame of which threw a great awful shadow across the +propped wall behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“Minna! Minna!” +</p> + +<p> +It was a pitiful cry of despair, but it produced no sympathetic +feeling in her breast. Terrible as that place was, it was preferable +to the company of the insane demon who was now seeking her. She held +her breath in dreadful suspense as he came towards her. But ere he +reached the rock the match burnt down to his fingers and darkness +intervened. She heard the scratch of another match, and moved softly +round one side of the rock as he approached the other. His breath made +a rattling noise in his throat, and at one moment he was within three +yards of her. Then to her great relief he went off at a tangent, still +calling the name. +</p> + +<p> +Fainter and fainter grew the calls, until at last only a murmur was +borne back to her. Believing that he would return by the same passage, +she crept farther round the shielding rock, not daring to move away +lest she should be caught in some less favourable place. +</p> + +<p> +“Minna! Where are you, Minna?” +</p> + +<p> +She shuddered, and waited for a long time before the approaching light +began to throw vague shadows on the walls. Again she saw him—holding +his robe close against his face, as he always did. He did no more than +give a glance about him, before entering another gallery. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, night of horrors! How long it lasted she could not guess. As time +passed, his awful cries grew more and more despairing—like the wails +of a lost soul in Hades. Then, when she felt that her last ounce of +strength was being used up, she saw him make his way back through the +tunnel by which he had come, and the intense darkness reigned again. +</p> + +<p> +Followed another period of oblivion, in which Nature did something +towards balancing the tottering mind. But the old terrors were reborn +upon opening her eyes—to see absolutely nothing. There were two +alternatives for her. One was to go on in the hope of finding an +outlet, and the other was to risk going back to the vault, trusting +that he might not be there. She chose the former. +</p> + +<p> +Hungry and faint, she stumbled along a gallery, but it rapidly +descended, and soon she found deep water that she dared not enter. +Back again to the big chamber, with a hopeless feeling at her heart. +The next attempt was even more alarming, for there was a fall of earth +behind her, due to rotting beams and props. She found herself against +a blank wall, and had to burrow back through loose earth to escape +being buried alive. +</p> + +<p> +Reaching the big chamber, she sat down to recover her breath, and to +consider the next step. Her mind revolted at the idea of returning, +even if she could find the correct gallery; but now the second +alternative was death—madness and death in the inky blackness. And +but last night—was it last night?—she had been in Wallace’s arms, +believing in the goodness of God! +</p> + +<p class="spacer"> +* * * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +At that moment Wallace and Conrad were making through the vault +towards the secret door. They reached the end wall at the termination +of the third arcade, and Wallace gave a quick glance at the bins +referred to by the chronicler, and his eyes glinted as the neat hinges +came to view. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove—he was right, Connie!” +</p> + +<p> +But Conrad had collapsed on a box, and was holding his head between +his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I feel a bit—cheap,” he said. “It will pass off.” +</p> + +<p> +“You oughtn’t to have come. Jove, you’re as pale as death! It’s no +use, Connie—you have overdone it. You’ve got to come back with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I’ll stick it.” +</p> + +<p> +It was evident that he was in no state to continue, and Wallace +gripped him firmly by the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on. The atmosphere is deadly down here. I’ll see you to your +room, and run down again.” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad had little resistance left, and permitted himself to be led +back to the château. He felt better as soon as they emerged into +daylight. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like your going, Ralph,” he said. “It’s not a one-man job. +Take Watkins.” +</p> + +<p> +“He has gone with Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then the gardener or Pierre.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have to wet-nurse them. Don’t worry, old man, I shall win +through this all right. Give me that pistol.” +</p> + +<p> +He was off again in a couple of minutes, running at breakneck speed +down the steps and through the vault. He soon reached the end wall, +and hesitated for a second or two before putting his weight on the +wooden structure. It opened immediately—and without a sound. Before +him stretched a long straight passage approached by a dozen steep +steps. The electric illumination surprised him, until he recalled that +Watkins was always complaining about “leakage.” Here was the cause! +</p> + +<p> +He crept along the passage warily, expecting that a creature used to +inhabiting such a place would possess the keenest hearing. Reaching +the door, he examined the pistol to make sure it was loaded and in +working order. Then, seizing the handle of the door, he turned it +slowly and suddenly pushed. +</p> + +<p> +The inner room was empty save for the enormous collection of old army +gear. There were boxes piled in the corner with the German Government +mark stencilled on them, ancient tins of meat, rope, bayonets, and a +box of razors! But what took his attention were two enamel plates with +fragments of food upon them, lying close to the spread-out blankets. +His glance went to the door at the end of the chamber, and, gripping +the pistol tightly, he stole towards it. +</p> + +<p> +All his nerves became braced as he suddenly heard the sound of +approaching footsteps—a kind of shuffle. He moved away to the +wall—in the direction in which the door would swing. A blast of damp +air entered the room as the door swung open, and through it stepped +the strange creature he had prayed to meet face to face for so long. +The shoulders were enormous and hunched, and the tattered, frowsy, +brown robe was gripped round about the chin by a huge talon-like hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Halt!” +</p> + +<p> +The big form stood perfectly still, and from the orifice formed by the +cowl two ferocious eyes glared out. +</p> + +<p> +“Put up your hands! Put them up or I shall shoot!” +</p> + +<p> +Slowly the enormous arms went up, but Wallace was not at all prepared +for what followed. In a flash a powerful hand had snatched the exposed +electric light cable, and the light immediately failed. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha ha! Ha ha ha!” +</p> + +<p> +The demoniacal laughter filled the place. Wallace’s hair seemed to +rise perpendicularly. He fired, once, hoping that the flash would +reveal the exact position of the lunatic, but the brown robe was much +the same colour as the walls, and his shot went wide. +</p> + +<p> +“The little lamb comes to the slaughter! We shall still hold the +château, m’sieur. We shall still hold it! Ha ha ha!” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace could not follow a word of the guttural German, but he was +fully cognisant of what was intended. Again he fired, and the small +flash revealed—something. It was the proximity of the huge form, and +the flash of steel. Out went his left arm to save his throat, and by +wonderful luck his fingers fell upon a thick hairy wrist. +Simultaneously the pistol was knocked from his hand by a smashing blow +from his powerful opponent. It was a life and death struggle now. He +brought his right arm to bear upon the hand that held the razor, and +with a great effort managed to bend the hairy wrist until he heard the +razor clatter to the ground. The next instant his throat was gripped +tightly. +</p> + +<p> +This was more easily remedied. He swung his left arm, and drove it +straight into the creature’s stomach. There came a howl of pain, and +immediately the hands left his windpipe. Delay was fatal now, for he +did not possess the cat-like eyes of this maniac. He followed up with +smashing blows—most of which took effect. Then he tripped and fell, +but managed to bring his adversary down with him. +</p> + +<p> +Young and strong and in perfect condition as he was, he became +doubtful of the outcome of this appalling conflict. His blows became +feebler, and seemed to have little or no effect upon the growling +maniac. He hit out again where he thought the head should be, and the +blow fell upon a shoulder. But it served its purpose, for the big head +jerked back and came into violent contact with the sharp corner of a +metal box. There was a sound like a sigh—and no further resistance. +</p> + +<p> +Gasping, he rose to his feet, and flashed the torch upon the prone +form. What he saw horrified him. The cowl was back and the robe open. +The whole face came to view. But only above the mouth was it a face. +The lower part was so shattered it had ceased to be human. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor devil!” he muttered involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +He put the cowl over the head, and closed the robe, shuddering as he +did so. With a coil of stout rope he bound the arms and legs firmly, +and then waited for the creature to recover consciousness, with the +object of compelling him to give him some information about Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +But, although he waited for a quarter of an hour, the eyes remained +closed and there was no movement of any kind. He decided to leave him +where he was and pursue his quest. He was soon in the narrow earth +gallery, with the torch dimly lighting the way, and it was not long +before he saw something that caused his heart to beat a higher note. +They were footprints—small footprints mingled with enormous ones. He +ran now—splashing mud all over his clothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande!” +</p> + +<p> +He thought he heard a faint response, but realised it might well be +the echo of his own voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande!” +</p> + +<p> +This time there was no doubt about it. The response was faint and in a +high-pitched voice, and it came from immediately ahead. The torch was +burning dimly, and he feared it might burn out ere he reached her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande! Yolande!” +</p> + +<p> +Then he saw a sight that was like heaven opening from the depths of +hell. A figure came to view at the end of the passage. It was muddy +and tattered, and the hair was down and wet. But it was Yolande +notwithstanding—and her arms went out as she saw him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph!” she said brokenly. +</p> + +<p> +He seized her in his arms and kissed the pallid lips—the eyes and wet +hair of her. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank God! Oh, thank God!” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew you would come. I knew it!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are all right?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—yes. But I’m hungry—so hungry. Where is he? You—you haven’t +killed him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. He nearly killed me. I’ve got him safely tied up back there.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you came—alone?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had to. Fouchard was away when we discovered the secret passage. +I’ve lived in hell for nearly twelve hours. But it’s going to be all +right now. My dear, you don’t know——” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled wanly at his inarticulateness. Weak and exhausted as she +was, she <i>did</i> know, and she clung to him as if she feared that at any +moment he might vanish into thin air and leave her again to the +hideous nightmares. +</p> + +<p> +“You—you overpowered him?” she asked incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“By luck. Of course he is a lunatic.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, mad—quite mad. He calls me Minna—mistaking me for someone +else. I owe my life to that—and to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get back.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate to see him again. I can’t help remembering that he murdered my +dear father. What—what are you going to do with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hand him over to Fouchard. It is Conrad who deserves all the praise. +But for him——” +</p> + +<p> +She pressed his hand, and they went slowly forward towards the lair of +the Monster. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch29"> +CHAPTER XXIX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE FUSE</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Wallace</span> was totally unprepared for the reception that awaited him. +He had left the Monster unconscious, and bound as securely as it was +possible to bind anything. The door had been left half open, and it +remained so now. The torch was at its last gasp, and he had to shake +it to produce about as much illumination as a glow-worm would give. On +the threshold of the door it gave out completely. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got some matches,” he whispered. “Possibly I can join up the +broken electric cable.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced a box and struck a match on it. Immediately the flame +appeared there was a slight sound, followed by a dull thud, a groan +and hideous laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph!” cried Yolande. “What——” +</p> + +<p> +The place became brilliantly illuminated, and her startled eyes saw +Wallace lying on the floor, and the huge, monkish form standing over +him with a slab of wood in his hand. The look of triumph changed to +one of pleased surprise when he saw Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Minna!” he rasped. “You’ve come back!” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t touch me—you brute!” she screamed. +</p> + +<p> +His puzzled eyes blazed again as they fell upon the inert form of +Wallace. His feeling in that direction was fairly obvious. With an +inarticulate cry he produced his razor. She flew at him and seized his +arm. +</p> + +<p> +“No—no!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are foolish, Minna. We take no prisoners. We have no room for +them—and orders are orders.” +</p> + +<p> +She realised that the only possible way to prevent another appalling +murder was to humour him. Love gave the fillip to her imagination, and +transformed her from a terror-stricken woman to a capable actress. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” she said. “He is a leader; we must keep him for a while. +Later, perhaps—but not now—not now.” +</p> + +<p> +“The swine is dangerous.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no—he is unconscious.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will bind him—as he did me. He thinks himself clever, but I +am cleverer. Thought I was stunned. Ha! Ha!” +</p> + +<p> +He handled the rope like an expert, and very soon Wallace was sitting +in the corner, helpless. Recovering from the blow on the head, he +opened his eyes and bit his lip to realise the state of affairs. He +was about to talk to Yolande, but she put her finger to her lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Minna, you must be hungry. It was foolish to wander in the galleries. +We will eat,” said the maniac. +</p> + +<p> +He slouched across the chamber, glaring horribly at Wallace as he +passed him. The removal of a cloth exposed a cold fowl, taken +undoubtedly from the pantry during the night. He was about to carve it +when there was a low booming sound from a distance, and the earth +shook. The awful eyes opened wide, and the chicken was pushed away. +</p> + +<p> +“Guns! At last they come—at last!” +</p> + +<p> +He became as active as a cat, running from door to door and bolting +them with a wild laugh. Then he carried case after case across the +room and built two barricades. From a corner he took a Mauser rifle +and commenced to clean it. +</p> + +<p> +“To the last man,” he said. “Orders are orders.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande watched him insert a clip of cartridges into the rifle, with +his face twisted in unearthly excitement. That done, he laid the rifle +down, and dug out some more gear from under a tarpaulin. She turned +her face to Wallace and saw his lips frame the word “Unload.” Waiting +until the lunatic was carrying a curious keg with his back towards +her, she quickly opened the breach of the rifle and extracted the +cartridges. Her next intention was to free Wallace, but the crazy +creature gave her no opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +“Be brave, Minna,” he said. “All is prepared. They shall never have +the château.” He patted the rifle. “Eight lives there, but I have a +little surprise—after that. Hee! Hee! It will make them jump. Look!” +</p> + +<p> +He suddenly produced a six-feet length of tubular stuff that looked +like thick string. Yolande had no idea what it was, but Wallace knew, +and his eyes bulged from his head. +</p> + +<p> +“A fuse!” +</p> + +<p> +“Silence—you!” snarled the lunatic. “I should have cut your throat +but for Minna. She hates bloodshed.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is that?” queried Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“The little ally that will beat the enemy. But you need not worry, +Minna. There will be no pain. Poof!—and then nothing—just nothing!” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed devilishly, and, running across to the big keg, fitted the +end of the fuse into it. +</p> + +<p> +“Melinite!” he said. “I saved it for them. Ha! Ha!” +</p> + +<p> +Her face blanched as she realised his intention. But she thought there +was no immediate danger. By some means or other she had to outwit +him—to set Wallace free and get out of this evil den. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m thirsty,” she complained. “Get me some water, please.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—yes. We have wine.” +</p> + +<p> +He managed to find a bottle, but it was empty. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll get another. Minna must not go thirsty.” +</p> + +<p> +She thought he was going, but he changed his mind at the last moment +and shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“They are outside. It would not do.” +</p> + +<p> +“No one is there.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know better. My ears are keen. But you can trust me, Minna. They +shall never take us alive.” +</p> + +<p> +He snatched up the rifle, and looked, not towards the door that led +through the vaults, but at the other exit. Yolande started, for she +suddenly heard noises in that direction. The lunatic grinned, and put +his finger to his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“I told you so,” he whispered hoarsely. “But they do not know—the +poor fools!” +</p> + +<p> +There came a banging on the door, followed by heavier noises, as if a +battering-ram was being used. But the stout bolt still held, although +the timbers creaked. A brief silence, and then a tremendous thud. The +bolt snapped and the door bulged inward, bringing down several boxes +from the barricade. Another violent blow forced a passage, and into +the light stepped Niels, followed by Walther and Heinrich, with Bertha +bringing up the rear. The lunatic crouched low and brought the barrel +of the rifle to bear upon Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“Come!” he said. “Come to death—swine!” +</p> + +<p> +“Look out, Niels!” +</p> + +<p> +The warning cry came from Heinrich, and Niels, who was temporarily +surprised by the presence of Wallace and Yolande, skipped aside. A +click came from the rifle. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not loaded,” cried Yolande. “But take care.” +</p> + +<p> +The crazy man had opened the breach, and realised in a second that +something was wrong, though he did not appear to suspect Yolande. +Quickly he struck a match and lighted the end of the fuse. Then he +stood up and swung the rifle by the barrel. Yolande ran to put her +foot on the travelling light, but he pushed her backwards. +</p> + +<p> +“We are doomed,” she cried. “If——” +</p> + +<p> +It was then that Niels showed his mettle. He made a lightning leap at +the big, obstructing form, and missed the murderous swing of the +rifle. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Heinrich!” he called. +</p> + +<p> +Before Heinrich and Walther could get across, the fuse had burnt close +to the big canister of explosive. Yolande was awakened from her mental +paralysis. She leapt by the struggling forms and pulled the fuse away +from the deadly explosive. When she turned round the three male +intruders were engaged in a fearful struggle with the madman. Twice +Walther had the rope round the enormous arms, and twice the fiend +broke loose again, dealing frightful blows with hands and feet. In the +background was Bertha, as pallid as death. +</p> + +<p> +“Got him!” cried Heinrich. “Hold on!” +</p> + +<p> +The rope was twisted round the arms and body of the conquered +creature, and Walther held it from behind, whilst the other two men +held an arm each above the binding. +</p> + +<p> +“March!” said Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s—terrible!” almost sobbed Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick—through the passage!” +</p> + +<p> +They made their exit with their captive uttering awful cries and +struggling fruitlessly. The door slammed, and Yolande sat down and +held her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande!” +</p> + +<p> +She suddenly remembered Wallace, and with a gasp cut his bonds with a +knife. +</p> + +<p> +“Queer!” he muttered. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand. What was that?” +</p> + +<p> +Now the opposite door was being attacked noisily, and in a few seconds +the keen blade of an axe smote through the panel. +</p> + +<p> +“Fouchard!” said Wallace. “It must be.” +</p> + +<p> +He ran to the pile of boxes, and dragged them away after unbolting the +door. Fouchard entered with Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“I had to come,” said Conrad. “What——” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes fell on Yolande, and he gripped her hand warmly. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened here?” grunted Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“They’ve got him—just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” +</p> + +<p> +“Niels and the others. They came in in the nick of time. But now——” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard ran to the other door and shone a torch down the passage. +</p> + +<p> +“Does that lead to the mine?” he snapped. +</p> + +<p> +“It must.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we can get them by going the other way. By Jove, the whole lot +in one swoop! Come on!” +</p> + +<p> +The whole party then moved up the passage and on through the vault. +Fouchard bolted and barred the door at that end, and set a gendarme to +guard it. +</p> + +<p> +“I must go with Fouchard,” whispered Wallace to Yolande. “You must +rest and refresh yourself. I will be back soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m coming too,” said Conrad. “I’m not going to miss this—if it +kills me.” +</p> + +<p> +The Bentley was just outside the main entrance, and the three men +entered it, Wallace taking the wheel. In less than two minutes they +halted close to the old mine. Like hounds they went through the trees +until they stood on the site of the excavation. +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible for them to have arrived,” said Fouchard. “I may be +glad of your help, gentlemen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose they fight?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“God help them if they do,” grunted Fouchard. “I shall shoot the first +man who shows a gun.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a lot about this affair that puzzles me,” said Wallace. “That +madman with the razor would insist upon calling Yolande Minna. It was +only that delusion on his part which saved her from her father’s +fate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it he who tied you up?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He was going to slit my throat when Yolande brought her queer +influence to bear on him. We had a narrow shave. He had a big canister +of high explosive, and meant to blow the château sky-high. The +unexpected intervention of Niels prevented that.” +</p> + +<p> +“S-sh!” warned Fouchard. “I don’t want them to hear you.” +</p> + +<p> +“But they must know we are here,” argued Conrad. “It is obvious we +should attempt to hold them up. I’ll warrant——” +</p> + +<p> +“You forget that they left Wallace tied up, and they probably knew I +was away, and that you were laid up in bed—where you ought to be at +this moment. It was their last chance, and they took it. They may +expect opposition from Wallace—but there are three of them, not to +mention Bertha.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the Monster—is he a confederate?” +</p> + +<p> +“You wouldn’t have said so if you saw the way they handled him,” put +in Wallace. “And he did his best to brain Niels with the butt end of a +rifle. Whatever it is they all want, they are at loggerheads. That +poor devil is hopelessly mad. I don’t believe he wants +anything—except Minna. He talked rubbish all the time I was there, +and acted as if——” +</p> + +<p> +“S-sh!” hissed Fouchard. “I heard a noise.” +</p> + +<p> +They crouched behind a heap of debris close to the exit, and very soon +a figure emerged. It was Niels, and he looked around cautiously. +Fouchard, who was nearest, stepped forward and levelled his pistol. +</p> + +<p> +“One word and I shoot,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Niels’s reply was to kick the pistol from Fouchard’s hand and perform +a disappearing trick that was worthy of Devant. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Sacré!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“He has gone to warn the others,” said Wallace. “What do we do next?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard picked up his pistol ignominously. +</p> + +<p> +“The little rat!” he grunted. “Unless we ferret them out they will +stay there until dark, and make my task more difficult. I’m not going +to wait. I can’t afford to.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re going down?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m with you,” said Wallace. “Connie, hadn’t you better wait for us +at——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, you don’t,” retorted Conrad. “I’m going to be in at the +finish. We shall need a light down there.” +</p> + +<p> +“My pocket-torch has burnt out, but I have a good Helleson lamp in the +car. I’ll get it.” +</p> + +<p> +He was back in a few minutes, with the lamp in his hand. Warily they +entered the mine. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch30"> +CHAPTER XXX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE COUNT</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> powerful lamp gave splendid illumination, and revealed to the +trio a veritable network of galleries, many of which were now +impassable. Fortunately the ground was damp, and innumerable +footprints marked the trail of Niels’s gang. The marks led to an old +working that apparently had been recently cleared. +</p> + +<p> +“They have been working here for days,” whispered Fouchard. +“Look—here are marks of blasting. Presumably they gave up all hope of +reaching the tunnel by the château entrance, and devoted all their +energies to forcing a passage this way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose they break for the vault?” asked Conrad. +</p> + +<p> +“They may, but I doubt it. Naturally they will conclude I have a guard +there. The gendarme could hold that door against a hundred attackers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway, they seem to have retreated.” +</p> + +<p> +“Looking for a hiding-place.” +</p> + +<p> +“The passage divides here.” +</p> + +<p> +“There must be footprints.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is hard rock underneath.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then wait—while I try the right passage. Keep the lamp; I’ll use +matches.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard went off, and was gone about two minutes. When he returned he +nodded, and pointed along the passage which he had just explored. +</p> + +<p> +“This way!” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” +</p> + +<p> +The passage was narrow, and they moved along it in single file. Fifty +yards farther on the rock floor gave way to soft earth, and there were +the impressions of boots everywhere. Wallace shone the lamp ahead. +</p> + +<p> +“Looks like a big cavern.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Zut!</i>” said Fouchard suddenly. “I swear I saw a form ahead. Take +care!” +</p> + +<p> +Flattened against the damp wall, they moved forward with extreme +caution, and in a few minutes emerged into a wide excavation—the +place where Yolande had spent her dreadful night. Wallace used the +lamplight as a searchlight, and at last its bright beam fell on the +people they sought. They were immediately opposite, close to the +passage which led back to the château. +</p> + +<p> +“Niels!” snapped Fouchard. “The game is up. I warn you to come +quietly.” +</p> + +<p> +Niels turned his grim countenance towards his companions. Bertha +seemed to nod her head, but Walther and Heinrich looked very +undecided. Between them was the madman, glaring into the light like +some sub-human creature of the underworld. +</p> + +<p> +“You hear!” said Fouchard. “The passage is strongly guarded at both +ends. It will avail you nothing to offer resistance. Throw your +firearms over here.” +</p> + +<p> +All the while he was approaching closer. Wallace passed the lamp to +Conrad and produced his pistol for moral effect. Niels squirmed +visibly. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s right,” said Walther. “It’s no use; we’ve failed.” +</p> + +<p> +Niels nodded dejectedly and pitched a pistol across to Fouchard. +Walther and Heinrich followed suit a moment later. Fouchard sighed as +he picked them up. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” he said, “we will investi——” +</p> + +<p> +It was then the unexpected happened. The huge robed form shook itself +free of the two men. Wallace stared in amazement to see the bonds that +held him snap as if they were string. A startled cry came from Bertha +as the madman leaped at the group. +</p> + +<p> +“Look out!” yelled Walther. “He is insane.” +</p> + +<p> +There was scarcely need to apprise them of this. A great hand went +under the robe, and a razor flashed in the light. Heinrich was the +nearest victim, and at him flew the awful form. +</p> + +<p> +“Walther!” +</p> + +<p> +Walther cleared a rock, but he was two yards away when the razor +hovered over Heinrich’s throat, and a horrible noise came from the +intending assassin. It was then that Fouchard proved his skill. With +Walther almost covering the madman he fired twice. There came a gurgle +that echoed weirdly. The razor missed its mark by a few inches, and +the big brown form crumpled up like a concertina. +</p> + +<p> +“Got him!” +</p> + +<p> +“My God!” cried Niels brokenly, and ran to the still form. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s dead—dead!” said Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +“Stand away!” roared Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +But they did not heed him in the least. Conrad, focusing the light on +the scene, was amazed to see the savage Niels fondling the huge, dirty +hand of the dead man. +</p> + +<p> +“Max!” he muttered. “Max!” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard had not yet got it clear. He took control and forced them to +stand away. On going to remove the robe he was stopped by Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t interfere!” he snapped. +</p> + +<p> +“But——” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard pulled back the hood and then opened the gown at the front. A +faded uniform came to view—the uniform of a major of the Bavarian +Regiment. But it was not that which caused him to utter a cry of +horror. He had seen what Wallace had already seen. He pulled down the +hood immediately. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor devil!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—a tragedy, m’sieur,” said Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +“Now for the rest,” said Fouchard. “What is your little game down +here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it obvious, Fouchard?” asked Conrad quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing is obvious.” He glared at Niels. “What is there here that you +want?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t try to——” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s true,” said Bertha. “Don’t you realise yet that the thing we +came to get—no longer exists?” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean—that?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard pointed to the poor, dead figure, and Bertha inclined her +head. +</p> + +<p> +“Then who is he? What is he to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was my brother,” said Niels. +</p> + +<p> +“So! And what is your relationship to this woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am his sister-in-law,” said Bertha. “I am the Baroness von +Kauffman. His brother Max married my sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was her name Minna?” asked Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. How did you guess?” +</p> + +<p> +“He mistook Mademoiselle Fallières for her. It was that delusion +which saved her life.” +</p> + +<p> +“We will get the details later,” said Fouchard. “In the meantime you +are all under arrest for aiding and abetting. March on. We will remove +the corpse later.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +Yolande heard the news with mingled amazement and relief. She was yet +tired from her adventure, but anxious to hear all the details. +Fouchard, now exceedingly pleased with himself, paraded his prisoners +in the biggest reception-room. They were all looking dejected and +indifferent to whatever Fouchard might do. Bertha smiled wanly at +Yolande as soon as she saw her. +</p> + +<p> +“We have fought and lost,” she said. “I am sorry, mademoiselle. There +was no other course.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am yet in the dark about many points,” said Yolande. “Fouchard has +told me that your one object in coming here was to get this man Max +away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that is so. We had no other object in mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how did he get here? Why did he come here?” +</p> + +<p> +“He has been here ever since this château was occupied by German +troops. He was terribly wounded by a shell, and must have crept back +into the tunnel. He recovered, but only to be a lunatic. My poor +sister heard that he was killed—blown to pieces. She went to America, +and died there soon after.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how did you come to know that he was not dead, but actually +living in this place?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the strangest story. Six months ago I was visited by an +ex-officer of my brother-in-law’s regiment. He was a very clever +electrician, and among his hobbies was wireless telegraphy. He had +installed a small experimental transmitting set, and was carrying out +experiments on low wavelengths.” +</p> + +<p> +“My father also had a set,” said Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“That is part of the story. This officer came to me in a perturbed and +puzzled state of mind. He asked me if I believed in spirit +communications. I told him I had never seriously considered the +matter. He then showed me his log-book, and among his notes were some +strange, broken messages purporting to come from Max, and addressed to +Minna—his dead wife. Some of them were quite unintelligible, but +others referred to small incidents in the past which made it appear as +if it were really Max who was communicating.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how did these messages come?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“In the Morse code—and in German. I found myself utterly unable to +accept his theory that a spirit was manifesting in that way. But, on +the other hand, I believed Max to be dead, and it was difficult to +explain the phenomena. I told Niels, but he too was sceptical. Time +passed, and then something happened which caused us considerable +excitement. A message came to the experimenter. It said, ‘Am holding +the devils, Minna. They shall never win the Château Grammont.’ That +was remarkable, because I knew that Max had been in the château when +the French made their successful attack. I conferred with Niels, and +ultimately decided to come to Grammont to see if there was anything in +the fantastic story. I stayed in Arveyes, and there I heard that the +château was haunted—that a big form had been seen by several +persons. About the same time mademoiselle advertised for a +parlourmaid. I got the situation by giving false references.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was your object then?” asked Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I was puzzled. I wanted to see and hear more. One night I got +definite proof that my brother-in-law was alive. I caught a glimpse of +him in this place, and I knew at once that he was insane. I wrote to +Niels begging him to come to me, and he came almost by return. We +talked the matter over, and came to the conclusion that we would tell +the story to Monsieur Fallières, and so clear up the mystery. But +before this could happen murder took place. That altered everything.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” snapped Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“It put my poor brother in a perilous position,” answered Niels. “What +sort of justice would he have got in a French civil court?” +</p> + +<p> +“The same as anyone else,” retorted Fouchard. “Are you suggesting that +we hang lunatics?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. But what would have been the procedure in Max’s case? He would be +certified as insane, and on that account would not be permitted to +plead. He would have been sent to a criminal lunatic asylum for the +rest of his days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was that thought which settled a momentary indecision. We wanted +to get him home—to his own country. In Germany he might have had +every comfort, every attention. Surely these should not be denied a +man because a grave injury has caused him to commit deeds which in his +normal mind he would have shuddered at?” +</p> + +<p> +“And that is what caused you to refuse my offer?” asked Yolande. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. It was tempting, but I realised that you were speaking in +ignorance. Even had you been disposed to act so generously when you +had learned the truth, there was M’sieur Fouchard to be considered. +Fouchard had his duty to do. He was bound to act on it and to make an +arrest.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard inclined his head at this. +</p> + +<p> +“But under medical treatment—an operation perhaps—your brother might +have recovered his reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“Walther agrees that that was possible. But what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“He would have a fair trial, and in the circumstances I cannot imagine +anything other than a favourable verdict.” +</p> + +<p> +“And repatriation?” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard compressed his lips, and Niels shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“It is inconceivable,” he added. “My brother was doomed from the +moment when his crazy brain led him to commit that terrible deed. They +would never repatriate him, and you know it, sir. The alternative was +a life-long incarceration. We had weighed all that, and, reluctant as +we were, we had to go on. Realising the big obstacles which we were up +against, I wrote to my cousin Walther and his brother Heinrich. +Heinrich arrived first, and brought with him some valuable +information. It was contained in a volume written by a man named +Steinbech——” +</p> + +<p> +“We know all about that,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“With those clues in our hands we decided to make an attempt at +once—on that night when you discovered us in the vaults.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember,” growled Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we failed, as you know, and after that we never got another +chance, until in desperation we decided to tackle the tunnel from the +other end—the mine. We had abandoned that before because there had +been a big fall of rock since the tunnel was made, and the work of +getting through it was considerable. Again we were too late, and here +is the result.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm! A queer story,” mused Fouchard. “And when you eventually got him +he did not recognise you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. He seemed to be obsessed with the idea that the war was still on, +and that he had been delegated to hold the château against the enemy. +He knew none of us. We were all enemies to him. He scarcely recalled +his own name. The one name he remembered well was Minna. He loved his +poor wife dearly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know that,” said Yolande softly. “It is obvious that he must have +used my father’s wireless set to send those confused messages. It was +dismantled only a few months ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how did he get access to the house?” asked Wallace. “So far as I +can see there is no outlet from the vaults except by the main door, +which was always locked.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s still a mystery,” said Fouchard, stroking his chin. +</p> + +<p> +“No longer a mystery,” put in Yolande. “I discovered the means only a +short time ago.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard stared at her, as did the rest. +</p> + +<p> +“When I came back to that awful chamber with—Mr. Wallace, the Monster +had somehow obtained a fowl. I knew at once that he had stolen it from +the pantry, for since Severin’s death I have been compelled to look +after some of the domestic affairs of the house. Before I went to bed +last night I had occasion to go into the pantry, and the fowl was +there. I closed the door behind me. It locks of its own accord.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how——” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so simple, and yet we all overlooked it. The pantry has a +wine-lift, which goes down into the cellar. It is large enough for a +big man to enter, and can be worked from inside by simply pulling a +rope.” +</p> + +<p> +Fouchard bit his lip at this. +</p> + +<p> +“Severin ought to have told me,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Severin had no imagination.” +</p> + +<p> +“But we ought to have noticed it in the cellar,” said Wallace. +</p> + +<p> +“It is not easily seen, and I was scarcely aware of its existence,” +replied Yolande. “One might go into the pantry a dozen times without +seeing it.” +</p> + +<p> +But Fouchard was not easily consoled, for he prided himself upon his +powers of observation. +</p> + +<p> +“The lift sheds a great deal of new light,” said Wallace. “It must +have been the means by which he got away on that evening when we saw +him in the turret. Obviously he escaped through that old disused +staircase which leads to the servants’ quarters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Also the body of—” commenced Conrad, and stopped as he saw Yolande +wince. +</p> + +<p> +“But the pantry door would be locked,” objected Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“It has a Yale lock and can be opened from the inside,” informed +Yolande. “By slipping the catch he could wander at large and always +have a means of escape. That old staircase comes out immediately +opposite the pantry door.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you have forged the last link,” agreed Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“And it accounts for his being able to exist,” said Conrad. “No doubt +he took food from the pantry. Severin admitted that provisions were +missing from time to time.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he did not depend upon the pantry for food,” said Yolande. “The +chamber where he lived was littered with boxes of field-rations which +must have been left by the Germans in their hurried retreat. It is +significant that his visits to the upper part of the house grew more +frequent as his main supply of food gave out. But why—why did he hide +my poor father’s body, and yet leave Severin where we found him?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the worst cases of lunacy one finds recurrent phases of lucidity,” +said Walther. “I imagine that something like that happened immediately +the first crime was committed. Realising what he had done, he +performed that astounding feat along the ivy with his victim. It was +not so with Severin.” He looked at Fouchard. “The next move is yours, +m’sieur.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is for mademoiselle to decide. You have all attempted to defeat +the ends of justice, and, in addition, certain personal injuries have +been inflicted.” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande gazed at Conrad, but Conrad was rapidly recovering and was +singularly free from spite. +</p> + +<p> +“Leave me out of it, please,” he begged. “I have to return to England +in a day or two. I am quite willing to regard my little injury as the +result of a complete accident.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you—Ralph?” +</p> + +<p> +Conrad stared at this form of address, and Wallace blushed a trifle. +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing to say,” he said, “except that in similar +circumstances I think I should have acted just as the Baroness and her +friends have.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm!” said Fouchard. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case I do not feel disposed to go any further in the matter,” +said Yolande. “All that remains for us all is to try to forget it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you are right,” agreed Fouchard. “Still, I shall experience +some little difficulty in forgetting a certain bump on my head.” +</p> + +<p> +Niels stepped forward with a smile on his face—the first smile that +any of them had seen for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +“I tender you my sincere apologies, m’sieur,” he said. “It was a +brutal and sudden attack that no man could possibly have foreseen. I +had you at a mean disadvantage. I should regard it as an honour to +shake hands with the famous Fouchard.” +</p> + +<p> +That settled Fouchard, who never could resist flattery. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch31"> +CHAPTER XXXI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">CONCLUSION</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">It was</span> summer again in the beautiful Forêt de Grammont when a +gleaming, re-painted Bentley car drew up at the lodge of the château, +and drew old Pierre from his after-<i>déjeuner</i> siesta. He rubbed his +eyes as he beheld the ringer of the bell. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo, Pierre. <i>Il fait beau temps!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Wallace! And mademoiselle!” +</p> + +<p> +Yolande came from behind, and shook Pierre’s large, flabby hand with a +smile on her beautiful face. +</p> + +<p> +“Not mademoiselle any longer—Madame Wallace!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Hélas!</i> And you have come to see the old home?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course we have. I hope the Government is treating you well, +Pierre, since they took the château off my hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Excellently. I am to have a pension in ten years. We have lots of +visitors—English, Americans, all sorts. I show them the rooms where +the Monster walked, and some are generous—some are not. But the +tunnel has been bricked up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps that is as well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle—pardon—madame would like the key?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And shall I——” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Finish your sleep, Pierre. We should be able to find our way +about.” +</p> + +<p> +She and her husband of three months’ standing walked arm in arm +towards the well-remembered entrance. Nothing was changed, and Wallace +found himself reviving every little incident that had taken place +there a year before. +</p> + +<p> +“Look, that is where I first saw the Monster, Yolande,” he said, +pointing to the ivy-clad tower. +</p> + +<p> +“What wonderful things have happened since then!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Do you regret them?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It was a wrench giving up the château to a Government +department, but, after all, it is a thing that should be enjoyed by +the many and not reserved to the few.” +</p> + +<p> +They entered the château and wandered through the rooms, which were +excellently kept. There was a visitors’ book in the hall, containing +many names, from all parts of the world. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, look at that!” exclaimed Wallace suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +It was the signature of Baroness von Kauffman, in the firm handwriting +of Bertha, and dated but a few days before. +</p> + +<p> +“So she has been lured back—like us.” +</p> + +<p> +“A fine woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I always liked her. I often wonder whether she was not just a +little bit in love with Conrad.” +</p> + +<p> +Wallace laughed mysteriously. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I tell you a secret?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you can trust me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Connie is spending his holiday at Baden-Baden next month.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see——” +</p> + +<p> +“The Baroness lives there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph—you don’t mean——” +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing much. But I happen to have seen various envelopes +bearing the Baden-Baden postmark, and Connie seems to treat the rest +of the correspondence as negligible when those letters arrive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I hope something——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande! You wish to see the confirmed bachelor beaten and done for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? He needs someone to look after him. Someone with a will, +like Bertha has, to compel him to buy warmer vests when the winter +comes.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed in his complete happiness, and they ultimately left the +château and entered the garden. It was here that Yolande found her +childhood again. All the bright, sweet friends of her youth were still +there, even to the pair of robins, now growing old. +</p> + +<p> +“If you hadn’t already given me a beautiful garden, Ralph, I should +sit down and cry,” she said. “Many times I have sat here as a girl and +wondered whether there was anyone who would come out of the big, busy +world and—and take me— Then came terror and heartache, and, when +everything seemed smashed in ruin, the miracle happened. But I’ve had +enough happiness in six months to make up for all the horror of the +past.” +</p> + +<p> +He caught her hand and kissed her, while she pinned a fresh young rose +to his coat. +</p> + +<p> +“And there is another thing you have to remember,” she said. “When you +retire from business—which is, of course, only another name for +playing about with turbines—we are coming to France to enjoy our +second childhood.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a promise.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>La belle France!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“You are incurably French. I’ve given you an English name, an English +house, English everything, and you still remain as completely French +as if you had never left Grammont.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>La, la!</i> And I have given you French coffee, French vermouth, French +caresses, and you are just as English as when I met you in the Forêt +de Grammont. But I shall convert you yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you won’t. And I shan’t convert you. Besides, I don’t want to. +I’m satisfied.” +</p> + +<p> +“So am I.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what are we quarrelling about?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +They laughed together—ringing laughter that went echoing all over the +garden. It was in strange contrast to the gloom that had once pervaded +that place, and it was proof enough that Yolande had climbed out of +the pit of horror where he had first found her. But when she visited +her father’s grave the vivacious eyes became wet with tears. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help it,” she said. “It was a terrible end.” +</p> + +<p> +“It makes no difference to death. It is rest and peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the château is preserved for ever. He would be glad to know +that. Look, the roses that I planted are blooming—the sort he loved +most.” +</p> + +<p> +They went back via the terrace, and lingered there for a few moments +to enjoy the scene which it commanded. The furniture had been removed, +but on one of the stone slabs there was something scratched. Wallace +went to look at it, but she held him back. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t. I’m ashamed.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +He craned his neck forward, and saw his name in small letters, faintly +engraved. +</p> + +<p> +“So that’s the secret!” +</p> + +<p> +“I did it a week after you came here. Isn’t it shameful?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s nothing,” he replied. “I carved yours on an old tree in the +garden on the second day. Can you beat that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she retorted. “I can. I knew all about it on the following +night, for you had the next room to mine, and you talk in your +sleep—not only talk, but shout.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yolande! Well!” +</p> + +<p> +“Now come,” she begged. “I want to be moving—south. I want to smell +the sea—the real blue, sunlit southern sea. Get me there as quickly +as you can.” +</p> + +<p> +They bade farewell to old Pierre, and left him blinking his eyes at a +thousand-franc note—the first he had ever seen. Through the +tree-lined roads of France the Bentley slipped, bringing nearer the +magic Côte d’Azur, with all its beauty. The road was good, the sun +was high, and the driver crazy with happiness. Yolande suddenly had an +inspiration, and put her head close to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph!” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“If there’s anything in pre-natal influence, I should say that +Clementina Esmeralda Ralph Augustus Wallace will most certainly be a +racing motorist. Can you beat that?” +</p> + +<p> +He gasped for a moment, and then nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“I can.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ralph!” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I haven’t said a word——” +</p> + +<p> +“No, but you talk in your sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +She sat pretending to be peeved, but his left hand moved across and +gripped hers firmly. With a sigh of inexpressible happiness she raised +it to her lips. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +THE END +</p> + + +<h2> +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES +</h2> + +<p> +Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. debris/débris, finger +nails/finger-nails, etc.) have been preserved. +</p> + +<p class="noindent mt1"> +<b>Alterations to the text</b>: +</p> + +<p> +Add chapter numbering. +</p> + +<p> +Punctuation: fix a few quotation mark pairings. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter IV] +</p> + +<p> +Change (“If this <i>strang</i> thing is to be brought to bay) to <i>strange</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter VIII] +</p> + +<p> +(letter signature) change <i>Neils</i> to <i>Niels</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter IX] +</p> + +<p> +“If I could help you I would, but I am <i>pledegd</i> to secrecy” to +<i>pledged</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XI] +</p> + +<p> +“She would have offered you a rose if I hadn’t been <i>persent</i>” to +<i>present</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“never failed to tingle whenever Bertha <i>loomd</i> in sight” to <i>loomed</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XII] +</p> + +<p> +“I’d have no difficulty in convicting <i>Hienrich</i> and Niels” to +<i>Heinrich</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“the people at <i>Arveys</i> have been busy in that direction” to +<i>Arveyes</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XIII] +</p> + +<p> +(“But <i>Mademoisele</i> Fallières!” ejaculated Bertha) to <i>Mademoiselle</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XXI] +</p> + +<p> +“was not the type of man to take any <i>unnecassary</i> risk” to +<i>unnecessary</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XXIII] +</p> + +<p> +(“Do you know a village <i>callet</i> Basset?”) to <i>called</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>The</i> reached the kitchen and heard Walther dealing” to <i>They</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XXV] +</p> + +<p> +(“Why was <i>Fallière’s</i> body found here—and Severin’s?” to +<i>Fallières’s</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XXIX] +</p> + +<p> +“The warning cry came from <i>Hienrich</i>, and Niels” to <i>Heinrich</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XXX] +</p> + +<p> +“All the while he was <i>appoaching</i> closer” to <i>approaching</i>. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +[End of text] +</p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78776 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78776-h/images/cover.jpg b/78776-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..07fa909 --- /dev/null +++ b/78776-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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