the F Street elevator, was met by Snodgrass who had been walking up and
down the lobby. They took a taxi and sped away; followed closely by
another taxi, which their driver was most careful not to distance. A
second later Harleston entered the corridor. As he was about to greet
Mrs. Clephane, a man approached him and said:
"They have started, sir; Burke's just behind in a taxi--and both drivers
are wise. They're bound for the Rataplan."
"Follow them and wait just outside," Harleston ordered--and turned to
Mrs. Clephane. "I must go to the Rataplan at once," said he. "Let us
lunch there. The end of the affair of the cab of the sleeping horse is
in sight; I thought you might like to see it."
"I want to see it!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed. "Have you found the
key-word?"
"Carpenter found it--I'll tell you about it on the way out. Come along,
little lady."
* * * * *
"But why do you suspect Captain Snodgrass?" she inquired, when Harleston
had finished his account. "He would not have access to the formula,
would he?"
"The man that has access to such secrets never is the man who actually
delivers," he explained; "he has a confederate. Snodgrass is the
confederate, we think."
"Is this secret colloding process of gun-cotton so tremendously
valuable?" she asked.
"It's a secret for which any nation would give millions of dollars. It's
admittedly the most powerful explosive ever discovered, as well as the
easiest handled. Temperature, weather, ordinary shock have absolutely no
effect on it; in fire it simply chars and doesn't explode. Yet when it
is exploded by the proper method, lyddite, dynamite, and all the other
ites, are as a gentle zephyr in comparison. Now tell me about last
night; where were you?"
"After you left," she explained, "I wrote some letters, and then went
into the corridor to drop them in the chute beside the elevator shaft;
as I approached, the car came down with Mrs. Spencer in it. Something
impelled me to follow her; and running back I grabbed a cloak, and
dashed for the elevator, catching it on the fly. She wasn't in the main
corridor; on a chance, I hurried to the F Street entrance; I got there
just as she stepped into a taxi and shot away. Instantly I called
another taxi and told the driver to follow the car that had just
departed. He did for a little way; but in a sudden halt of traffic at
Vermont Avenue and H Street, where, you may remember, the street is torn
up, we lost the other taxi; and though we drove around the north-west
section for more than an hour on the chance that we'd come up with
it--my driver knew the other driver--we never did come up with it. But
as we rolled up to the Chateau, Mrs. Spencer was alighting from a
limousine with a tall, fine-looking, fair-haired chap who had the walk
of a military man."
"Snodgrass," Harleston observed.
"She saw me; and, with a maliciously charming smile, nodded and went
on. In the corridor I came on some friends and we talked awhile. Then I
went up to my apartment, got your message, and telephoned to you."
"Don't do it again," he cautioned. "It was very dangerous."
They turned in at the Rataplan and drew up at the carriage entrance.
Harleston helped Mrs. Clephane from the taxi and they passed into the
Club-House.
He inquired of the doorman whether Mr. Carpenter was in, and another
servant, who overheard the question, added that Mr. Carpenter was in the
dining-room. Harleston and Mrs. Clephane went directly in and to a table
next to Carpenter's. Three tables away were Madeline Spencer and
Snodgrass.
Harleston nodded to Mrs. Spencer and to Snodgrass, then spoke to
Carpenter and invited him over.
"I don't know if you will remember me, Mrs. Clephane," said Carpenter,
coming across. "I met you several years ago in Paris."
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Carpenter, I remember you!" Mrs. Clephane replied.
"Anything?" Harleston asked, without moving his lips.
"Nothing. I was here when they arrived," Carpenter replied in the same
manner--and went back to his table.
"Who is the woman with Harleston?" Snodgrass asked Mrs. Spencer. "I've
never seen her."
"A Mrs. Clephane," Madeline Spencer replied. "She's very good-looking,
isn't she?"
"I'm perfectly satisfied with the lady immediately in my fore," he
smiled. "I don't run to blondes--"
"When you're with a brunette!" she smiled back.
"I don't run to anyone when I'm with you," he replied with quiet
earnestness, leaning toward her across the table.
She shot him a knowing glance. Last night she had held him to strict
propriety. Today in the taxi she had deliberately set herself to
fascinate him, and had succeeded well. She had been demurely
tantalizing--holding him at a distance, letting him come a little
nearer, bringing him up sharply; all the tricks of the trade executed
with a perfection of technic and a mastery of effect. Snodgrass, with
all his experience, was but a novice in her hands; she always struck
directly at the affections--got them: and then the rest was easy. She
never lost her head, nor allowed her own affections to become involved;
save only twice--and both those times she had failed. Snodgrass, she had
learned through inquiries, had quite sufficient money to make him worth
her while; moreover, he was such a big, good-natured, dependable
chap--and a gentleman. If he had not been a gentleman he would not have
attracted Madeline Spencer for an instant. She dealt only in gentlemen.
She had not told Snodgrass of the Clephane letter, nor anything as to
Harleston except to refer casually to him as the confidential emissary
in delicate matters of the State Department. She had found that
Snodgrass was not the actual man in the case; that he was simply a
friendly confederate, or rather, to use his own words, "a friend of
Davidson." She had expected that the package or letter would be
delivered to her in the taxi; but Snodgrass had told her as soon as they
were started that Davidson would forward it to him at the Rataplan by
mail, not later than the two o'clock delivery. He would get it as they
were leaving and transfer it to her, accepting the consideration as
specified by Davidson, and receipting for it. He said flatly that he did
not want to know the contents of the letter; he was doing this favour
for Davidson. He understood that it was to be entirely _sub rosa_ and
that nothing must ever transpire as to it. Therefore he was prepared to
forget the entire episode the moment it was over; the epochal meetings
with her he would not forget, nor would he permit her to forget him if
constant devotion and assiduous attention were of avail. To which she
had made a most demurely fitting answer, and the conversation thereafter
grew exceedingly confidential. Oh, they were getting on very well indeed
when the Rataplan was reached. And they were still progressing very
well--in a discreetly informal way.
The entrance of Mrs. Clephane and Harleston was unexpected to Mrs.
Spencer; Carpenter was a stranger to her and she had thought nothing of
him; but when he spoke to Harleston, and seemed to know Mrs. Clephane,
she put him on the list of the enemy. She kept him there when Snodgrass
told her his name and position in the Diplomatic Service and that it
was reputed there was no cipher too difficult for him to solve.
"We would better be very circumspect," she said low. "I think that these
two men are here to watch us; they know that I'm in the Secret Service,
of Germany, and they're naturally suspicious of me."
"Carpenter was here when we came in," Snodgrass remarked. "He was
sitting in the lobby. However, if you prefer, I'll let my mail go until
evening."
"We can decide when we're through luncheon," she replied. "Haste is of
vital importance, my instructions say. I had hoped to get away on the
midnight train for New York, and to sail tomorrow for England."
"I had hoped to do the same!" he whispered.
"Really?" she asked.
"More than really! May I?" leaning forward.
"If you care to, Captain Snodgrass. It will be very pleasant to have you
on board."
"And afterward?"
"You may not care for the afterward," she murmured.
"I'll risk it!" he exclaimed. "We'll sail tomorrow."
"And the letter?" she asked.
"I'll get it for you--or have it along!"
"What about the consideration?"
"Hang the consideration. I'll pay it myself, if need be."
"No, no, my friend!" she laughed. "I'm not worth so much, nor anything
near it. And even though I were, I'd not permit the wasteful
extravagance."
She might have added that she had no objection whatever to his wasteful
extravagance, in fact, she would rather encourage it, if she were its
object. Only that must come later--after the present business was
finished, and they had sailed from New York. How long the extravagance
would continue was dependent on the depth of his purse and his
disposition.
"Wasteful extravagance does not apply where you are concerned," he
replied. "However, we'll let Germany pay the consideration, and I'll
have that much more to spend on you."
She rewarded him with one of her alluringly ravishing smiles and a touch
of her slender foot. She had him--and she knew she had him. She would
be Madeline Spencer once again--always having a victim, and always ready
for a fresh one. Since she had failed with Harleston, what mattered it
how many the victims, or what the price they paid.
XXIII
CAUGHT
"Mrs. Spencer and her friend have reached some sort of an
understanding," Mrs. Clephane remarked. "She just smiled at him
significantly and pressed his foot."
"I noticed the smile but not the foot business," Harleston chuckled.
"It's something quite personal to them, I take it!"
"Exactly; but what's the effect on the matter in hand? Does not this
_personal_ understanding signify that the delivery of the formula has
been arranged, maybe even effected."
Harleston nodded. With Madeline Spencer it was, he knew, business first
and personal matters afterward.
"I think we shall see the end of the affair of your cipher letter and
its ramifications before the afternoon is over," he replied.
"What about the French Embassy?" she asked.
"The Marquis has been advised that we have the translation. He will keep
his hands off, you may believe."
"You think either that Captain Snodgrass has the document in his
possession, or that he has given it to Mrs. Spencer?"
"Or that it will come into his possession before they leave the
Rataplan, and be transferred to her here or in the taxi on their way
back to town," he added.
"What if he transferred it to her on their way here?"
"Then she still has it--once she gets it in her possession she won't
part with it, even in her sleep, until she places it in the hands of the
official who sent her to America."
"And Mr. Carpenter was here to watch until you came?"
"Yes--and afterward; you see one of us might be called away. From the
time she and Snodgrass met at the Chateau this morning, they have not
been out of espionage and close espionage. So long as they are in a
taxi, or at the Rataplan, there is no danger of the document getting
away if either of them has it; but until we are certain that they have
it, we won't detain them; we want the document to aid us in running down
the traitor. I'm not at all sure that Snodgrass is aware of the
character of the document. He probably stipulated not to know; he will
be content with a division of the money--and with a chance to spend some
of it on Spencer; which spending she is quite ready to facilitate, as
witness the pleasant understanding they seem to have arrived at during
luncheon."
"What are you going to do, Mr. Harleston?" Mrs. Clephane asked.
"I think you will enjoy it better if you're not wise, little lady!" he
smiled. "Moreover, it depends on circumstances just how it's to be gone
about--except that it ends in the office of the Secretary of
State.--Hush!"
"The Secretary of State!" she exclaimed low.
"I've an appointment to take Mrs. Spencer to meet his Excellency at four
o'clock."
"And what are you going to do with me, Mr. Harleston?" she smiled.
"You mean at four o'clock, or permanently?"
"At four o'clock, sir," with a charming lilt of the head.
"Take you along."
"With _that woman_? Thank you!"
"No, with me."
"Didn't you say you had an appointment to take Mrs. Spencer?"
"I did!"
"You intend to keep the appointment?"
"I do!"
"Surely, sir, you don't imagine for a moment that I would go anywhere
with Mrs. Spencer!"
"No more than you imagine that I would ask it of you!" he smiled.
"It seems to me your meaning is somewhat obscure," she retorted.
"However, whether you don't mean it, or do mean it, I'll trust myself to
you because it's you, Mr. Harleston."
"Permanently, my lady?"
"Certainly not, sir. I refer only to this afternoon; I want to be in at
the end of the game."
"For me," said Harleston slowly, "it's been a very fortunate game."
"Games are uncertain and sometimes costly," she shrugged.
"When played with Spencer, they are both and then some," he replied.
At that moment Carpenter pushed back his chair and arose, nodded
pleasantly to Mrs. Clephane and Harleston as he passed, and went out.
"Will Mr. Carpenter be at the finish?" Mrs. Clephane asked.
"Probably; but he'll be in the lobby when we go through."
"They are going!" she whispered. "And they're coming this way."
As Mrs. Spencer and Snodgrass went by, the former with an intimate
little look at Harleston, said confidentially:
"I'll be ready at half-past three, Guy."
"Very good!" Harleston answered promptly--when she was past, he looked
at Mrs. Clephane.
"The cat!" she muttered; then smiled quizzically. "Such a pleasant air
of proprietorship," she observed.
"Too pleasant," he returned. "I've something to tell you as to it and
her, when the present matter is ended."
"Will it keep?"
He nodded. "I can tell it better then--and have more time for the
telling."
The headwaiter approached casually, as though surveying the table.
"Well!" said Harleston.
"He went to the private mail boxes; she's waiting in the lobby," the man
replied. "He received a small letter, which he opened; it enclosed only
another envelope, which he put in his pocket without opening. He
returned to the lobby and they left the Club-House."
Harleston nodded. "It's time for us to be moving," said he to Mrs.
Clephane. "Will you trust me?" he asked as they passed into the lobby,
at the far end of which Carpenter was sitting absorbed in his cigar.
"Absolutely!" she replied.
"And will you go with Carpenter; he understands? I'll be with you
shortly. I must act quickly now."
Carpenter arose as they neared.
"Just started," said he, and bowed to Mrs. Clephane.
"Mrs. Clephane understands," Harleston explained "I confide her to your
care. _À bientôt._"
He hurried out. A taxi, waiting with power on, sped up; he sprang
aboard and it raced away.
As it neared the Connecticut Avenue bridge, the taxi slowed down a
trifle and the driver half-faced around.
"The other car is just ahead, sir," he reported.
"Very good," said Harleston. "Does the driver know we're behind him?"
"I've signalled, sir, and he's answered."
"Maintain the distance," Harleston directed.
"Yes sir," said the man.
Keeping about a hundred yards apart--the two cars sped down the hill and
around Dupont Circle to Massachusetts Avenue, thence by it and Sixteenth
Street to H. The one in the lead continued on toward Fourteenth.
Harleston's shot down Fifteenth, flashed over the tracks at Pennsylvania
Avenue, swung into F Street, and drew in at the Chateau just as the
other came around the Fourteenth Street corner, and rolled slowly up to
the curb.
As Snodgrass was assisting Madeline Spencer to alight--and taking his
time about it--Harleston glanced at his watch, sprang from his car, and
hastened over.
"This is fortunate, Mrs. Spencer!" he exclaimed. "Just after you left
the Rataplan the Secretary of State telephoned that he was summoned to
the White House at four, and I should bring you an hour earlier. On the
chance of overtaking you, I beat it after you. Now if Captain Snodgrass
will permit you, we have just time to get over to the Department."
"Will you excuse me, Captain Snodgrass?" she asked, with her compelling
smile.
"A Secretary of State may not be denied," Snodgrass replied. "In this
instance in particular I would I were his Excellency."
"Come and dine with me at eight," giving him her hand.... "Now, Mr.
Harleston, I am ready."
"What did you do with Mrs. Clephane?" she asked, when they were started.
"I left her at the Rataplan," he replied.
"Alone?"
"Oh no--with Carpenter, who chanced to be handy."
"The bald-headed chap, who spoke to you in the dining-room?"
"Exactly!"
"Carpenter is the chief of the Cipher Division, I believe you said."
"I don't recall that I said it, Madeline, but your information is
correct."
"I think I'll ask the Secretary for the letter," she remarked.
"Ask him anything you've a mind to!" Harleston laughed. "You've a very
winning pair of black eyes et cetera, my lady."
"I've never seen the Secretary!" she smiled.
"Small matter. He'll see you, all right."
"I'll make an impression, you think?"
"If you don't, it will be the first failure of the sort you've ever
registered."
"Except with you," she murmured.
"Good Lord!" he exclaimed. "You've had me going many times."
"Yes, Guy--but not now," she whispered.
"Now, I'm strong!" he laughed, bluntly declining the overture.
"Hence you are willing that I try my smiles on the Secretary," she
retorted.
"We are fellow diplomats," he countered. "You did me a good turn in the
Du Plesis affair; I'm trying now to show my appreciation. Moreover, it
will give Snodgrass an opportunity to reflect on your beauty and
fascinating ways--and to look forward to eight o'clock."
"It is pleasant to have something agreeable to look forward to," she
replied, ironically suggestive.
"Isn't it?" he approved. "I don't know anything more pleasant--unless it
is the finishing stroke of an _affaire Diplomatique_."
"Do you anticipate the finishing stroke to the present affair?"
"In due time."
"Due time?" she inflected.
"Whatever is necessary in the premises," he explained.
"It hasn't then gotten beyond the premises?"
"No, it hasn't gotten beyond the premises," he replied--with an inward
chuckle.
There was no occasion to explain that, by the latter premises, he meant
herself. His whole scheme was dependent on her having the traitorous
letter in her possession. He was quite sure Snodgrass had received it by
mail at the Rataplan; and why had he put the unopened envelope in his
pocket unless to give it to her on their way to the Chateau. And as he
(Harleston) had caught her as she alighted from the taxi, and had
hurried her off to the State Department, she must still have it. Of
course, there was the possibility that Snodgrass had not yet delivered
it; so Snodgrass was being looked after by others.
"Won't you give me a line on his Excellency, Guy?" she asked. "Is he
easy, or difficult, or neither?"
"I may not betray the weak points of my chief!" Harleston smiled.
"Moreover, here we are," as the taxi came to a stop on the Seventeenth
Street side of an atrociously ugly, and miserably inadequate building
that partially houses three Departments of the great American
Government.
"Am I to be left alone with the great one?" she asked, as they went up
the steps from the sidewalk.
"What do you wish me to do?" he inquired.
"Wait until I signal!"
"And if his Excellency signals first?"
"It will be for me to influence that signal," she replied.
They took the private elevator to the next floor. The old negro
messenger was waiting at the door of the reception room and he bowed to
the floor--a portion of the bow was for Harleston, but by far the
larger portion was for Madeline Spencer.
"De Sec'eta'y, seh, am waiting for you all at onct, Mars Ha'lison," he
said; and ushering them across the big room to the Secretary's private
office he swung back the heavy door and bowed them into the Presence.
As she passed the threshold, Mrs. Spencer caught her breath sharply, and
straightened her shoulders just a trifle. She saw where she stood, and
what was coming. Very well--she would defeat them yet.
XXIV
THE CANDLE FLAME
The Secretary was standing by the window; with him were Mrs. Clephane
and Carpenter.
"How do you do, Mrs. Spencer!" he said, without waiting for the formal
presentation.
She dropped him--Continental fashion--a bit of curtsy and offered him
her slender fingers; which, as well as the rest of her hand, he took and
held. Its shapeliness together with her beauty of face and figure were
instantly swept up by his appraising glance.
"Your Excellency is very gracious!" she murmured bestowing on him a look
that fairly dizzied him.
Small wonder, he thought, that she was reputed the most fascinating and
loveliest secret agent in Europe--and the most dangerous to the other
party involved; it would be a rare man, indeed, who could withstand such
charms, to say nothing of the alluring and appealing ways that must go
with them. If he only might try them--just to test his own fine power
of resistance and adamantine will! He shot a quick glance of suppressed
irritation at Harleston--and Madeline Spencer saw it and smiled, turning
the smile toward Harleston.
"I know what you are about to do," the smile said. "Now do it if you
can. You were afraid to trust me alone with this man; you knew how easy
he would be for me. Proceed with your game, Mr. Harleston--and play it
out."
Meanwhile the Secretary, still holding her hand, was saying:
"Let me present the Fifth Assistant Secretary of State, Mr.
Carpenter;--" and Carpenter received a smile only a little less dazzling
than that bestowed on his chief--"I believe you have met Mrs. Clephane,"
he ended, and only then did he release her hand.
"Yes, I have met Mrs. Clephane," she replied indifferently, and without
so much as a glance her way.
It was to be a battle, so why delay it?
"Your Excellency," said she, "when this appointment was made, some days
ago, I thought that it was merely to enable an insignificant woman to
say that she had met a great dignitary and famous man. I think so no
longer. It has assumed an international significance. I am here not as
plain Madeline Spencer but as Madeline Spencer of the German Secret
Service. It seems that a certain letter intended for the French
Ambassador has gone astray, and has come into your possession; therefore
I am to be asked to explain the matter, though I've never seen the
letter nor know the cipher in which, I am told by Mr. Harleston, it is
written. So what is it you would of me, your Excellency?"
"My dear Madame Spencer," said the Secretary, "what you say as to the
original reason for this little meeting, arranged by our mutual friend,
Mr. Harleston, is absolutely correct--except that it was a mere man who
was desirous of being presented to a beautiful and a famous woman. It
seems, however, that certain circumstances have suddenly arisen that
made it imperative for the meeting to be advanced half an hour--"
"What are those circumstances, may I ask?" she cut in.
"I shall have to request Mr. Harleston to answer. To be quite candid,
Madame Spencer, I can only infer them; Mr. Harleston arranged them."
She turned to Harleston with a mocking smile.
"I am listening, monsieur," she inflected. "What is it you, or rather
America, would of me?"
"The letter you have in your possession," said Harleston.
"The letter!" she marvelled. "Why, Mr. Harleston, you know quite well
that I never had the Clephane letter."
"Very true; we have the Clephane letter, as you style it; and we have
also a _translation_. What we want from you is the letter that Captain
Snodgrass took from his mail box at the Rataplan this afternoon, and
gave to you in the taxi on the way to the Chateau."
She smiled incredulously.
"Absurd, sir!" she replied. "Surely you are not serious!"
"Let me be entirely specific," he returned "I'll put all my cards on the
table and play them open."
"Double dummy, by all means!" she laughed, perching her lithe length on
the arm of a chair, one slender foot swinging slowly back and forth.
"Your play, monsieur."