[_The Statement of the Second Detective_, _Ludovic Tiler_.]
I travelled via Ostend, Brussels and Strasburg, and was due at Basle
from that side at 4.35 A.M. My instructions were to look out
for Falfani there, and thought I might do so if our train was fairly
punctual, as it was. We were "on time," and the answer to my first
question was that the Lucerne express was still at the platform, but
on the point of departure.
I got one glimpse of Falfani and one word with him. He was in trouble
himself; they had nipped him, caught him tight, and thrown him off the
scent. I was now to take up the running.
"You've got your chance now, Ludovic," he said hurriedly, as he leaned
out of the carriage window. "I'm not jealous, as you often are, but
it's deuced hard on me. Anyhow, stick to her like wax, and keep your
eyes skinned. She's got the wiles of the devil, and will sell you like
a dog if you don't mind. Hurry now; you'll pick her up in the
waiting-room or restaurant, and can't miss her."
He gave me the description, and I left him, promising him a wire at
the telegraph office, Lucerne. He was right, there was no mistaking
her. Few people were about at that time in the morning, and there was
not a soul among the plain-headed, commonplace Swiss folk to compare
with her, an English lady with her belongings.
She was quite a beauty, tall, straight, lissom, in her tight-fitting
ulster; her piquante-looking heather cap perched on chestnut curls,
and setting off as handsome a face as I have ever seen. And I have
seen and admired many, for I don't deny that I've a strong penchant
for pretty women, and this was the pick of the basket. It was rather a
bore to be put on to her in the way of business; but why should I not
get a little pleasure out of it if I could? I need not be
disagreeable; it might help matters and pass the time pleasantly, even
if in the end I might have to show my teeth.
I saw her looking me over as I walked into the waiting-room,
curiously, critically, and for a moment I fancied she guessed who I
was. Had she seen me talking to Falfani?
If so--if she thought me one of her persecutors--she would hardly look
upon me without repugnance, yet I almost believed it was all the other
way. I had an idea that she did not altogether dislike me, that she
was pleased with my personal appearance. Why not? I had had my
successes in my time, and may say, although it sounds conceited, that
I had won the approval of other ladies quite as high-toned. By and by
it might be my unpleasant duty to be disagreeable. In the meantime it
would be amusing, enjoyable, to make friends.
So far I had still to ascertain the direction in which she was bound.
She had taken her ticket. That might be safely inferred, for she was
in the waiting-room with her porter and her bags, ready to pass out
upon the platform as soon as the doors were opened. (Everyone knows
that the idiotic and uncomfortable practice still prevails in
Switzerland of shutting passengers off from the train till the very
last moment.)
This waiting-room served for many lines, and I could only wait
patiently to enter the particular train for which she would be
summoned. When at length an official unlocked the door and announced
the train for Biel, Neuchâtel, Lausanne, and Brieg, she got up to take
her seat, and I had no longer any doubt as to the direction of her
journey. So as I saw her go, I slipped back to the ticket-office and
took my place all the way to Brieg, the furthest point on the line.
This was obviously my best and safest plan, as I should then be ready
for anything that happened. I could get out anywhere, wherever she
did, in fact. After getting my ticket I found time to telegraph to
Falfani at Lucerne, giving him my latest news, and then proceeded to
the train.
I found the lady easily enough, and got into the same carriage with
her. It was one of those on the Swiss plan, with many compartments
opening into one another _en suite_. Although the seat I chose was at
a discreet distance, I was able to keep her in view.
I was wondering whether it would be possible for me to break the ice
and make her acquaintance, when luck served me better than I dared to
hope. One of the Swiss guards of the train, a surly, overbearing
brute, like so many others of his class, accosted her rudely, and from
his gestures was evidently taking her to task as to the number and
size of her parcels in the net above. He began to shift them, and,
despite her indignant protests in imperfect German, threw some of them
on the floor.
This was my opportunity. I hurried to the rescue, and, being fluent in
German as in several other languages--it is part of my stock in
trade--I sharply reproved the guard and called him an unmannerly boor
for his cowardly treatment of an unprotected lady. My reward was a
sweet smile, and I felt encouraged to hazard a few words in reply to
her cordial thanks. She responded quickly, readily, and I thought I
might improve the occasion by politely inquiring if I could be of any
further service to her.
"Perhaps you can tell me, you see I am strange on this line," she
answered with a perfectly innocent air, "do you happen to know at what
time we are due at Lausanne?"
"Not to the minute," I replied. "I have a railway guide in my bag,
shall I fetch it?"
"No, no, I should not like to give you so much trouble."
"But it will be no trouble. Let me fetch my bag."
I went off in perfect good faith, anxious to oblige so charming a
lady. I had not the slightest suspicion that she was playing with me.
Silly ass that I was, I failed to detect the warning that dropped from
her own lips.
When I got back with the Bradshaw I came upon them for just one moment
unawares. The maid must have been making some remarks displeasing to
my lady, who was answering her with much asperity.
"I know what I am doing, Philpotts. Be so good as to leave it to me.
It is the only way."
Then she caught sight of me as I stood before her, and her manner
instantly changed. She addressed me very sweetly and with the utmost
composure. "Oh, how very good of you, I feel quite ashamed of myself."
"Why should you? It is delightful to be of use to you. Lausanne I
think you said?" I asked casually as I turned over the pages of the
guide. "You are going to Lausanne?"
"No, Vevey to Montreux. I only wanted to know whether there would be
time for _déjeuner_ at Lausanne. I think there is no dining-car on
this train?"
"No, it is on the next, which is extraordinarily bad mismanagement.
It is a slow train the next, and we are a special express. But you
will have a clear half-hour to spare at Lausanne. That will be enough,
I presume? Lausanne at 12 noon, and we go on at half-past."
"You, too, are going beyond Lausanne?"
"Possibly, I am not quite sure. It depends upon my meeting friends
somewhere on the lake, either there or further on. If they come on
board we shall run on to Brieg so as to drop over the Alps to Lake
Maggiore by the Simplon route."
I threw this out carelessly but with deliberate intention, and the
shot told. A crimson flush came over her face and her hands trembled
violently. I had not the smallest doubt that this was her plan also.
She was bound to cross over into Italy, that we knew, or our employers
firmly believed it, and as she had been driven off the St. Gothard by
Falfani she had now doubled back by Switzerland to make the journey to
Brieg and across the mountains by road.
I had scored as I thought, but I forgot that in gaining the knowledge
I had betrayed my own intentions, and put her upon her guard. I was to
pay for this.
"Oh, really," she said quietly and with polite interest, having
entirely recovered her composure. "I dare say a very pleasant drive.
How long does it take, have you any idea, and how do you travel?"
"It is about nine hours by diligence," I said, consulting the
Bradshaw, "and the fare is forty francs, but by private carriage or
extra post a good deal more."
"May I look?" and I handed her the book, "although I never could
understand Bradshaw," she added pleasantly.
"I shall be very pleased to explain if you are in doubt," I suggested;
but she declined laughingly, saying it would amuse her to puzzle out
things, so I left her the book and composed myself into a corner while
the train rattled on. I mused and dozed and dreamily watched her
pretty face admiringly, as she pored over the pages of the Guide,
little thinking she was perfecting a plan for my undoing.
The first stop was at Biel or Bienne, its French name, and there was a
halt of ten minutes or more. I made my way to the telegraph office in
the station, where to my great satisfaction I found a message from
Falfani, informing me that he should make the best of his way to
Brieg, unless I could suggest something better.
The answer I despatched at once to Goeschenen was worded as follows:
"Declares she is going to Montreux only. Believe untrue. Still think
her destination Brieg. Come on there anyhow and await further from me.
May be necessary to join forces." We were in accord, Falfani and I,
and in communication.
I was well satisfied with what we were doing, and on receiving the
second and third telegrams at Neuchâtel and Yverdun I was all the more
pleased. At last we were nearing Lausanne, and I looked across to my
lady to prepare her for getting out. I had no need to attract her
attention, for I caught her eyes fixed on me and believe she was
watching me furtively. The smile that came upon her lips was so
pleasant and sweet that it might have overjoyed a more conceited man
than myself.
"Are we near then? Delightful! I never was so hungry in my life," and
the smile expanded into a gay laugh as she rose to her feet and was
ready to leave the carriage.
"I'm afraid you will have to wait, Philpotts, we cannot leave that,"
she pointed to the child nestling sound asleep by her side. "But I
will send or bring you something. This gentleman will perhaps escort
me to the refreshment-room."
I agreed, of course, and saying, "Only too charmed," I led the way--a
long way, for the restaurant is at the far end of the platform. At
last we sat down _tête-à-tête_ and prepared to do full justice to the
meal. Strange to say, despite her anticipations, she proved to have
very little appetite.
"I must have waited too long," she said, as she trifled with a cutlet.
"I shall perhaps like something else better," and she went carefully
through the whole _menu_, so that the time slipped away, and we were
within five minutes of departure.
"And poor dear Philpotts, I had quite forgotten her. Come and help me
choose," and in duty bound I gallantly carried the food back to the
train.
I walked ahead briskly, and making my way to the places where we had
left the maid and child, jumped in.
They were gone, the two of them. Everything was gone, rugs, bags,
belongings, people. The seats were empty, and as the compartment was
quite empty, too, no one could tell me when they had left or where
they had gone.
I turned quickly round to my companion, who was, I thought, following
close at my heels, and found to my utter amazement that she also had
disappeared.