A GLASS OF WINE.
Hetty's patience was rewarded at last. She could hear the faint murmur
of the motor in the street; there was a sudden gush of air as the
front door opened, and the voice of the Countess in her most honeyed
tones as she ushered somebody into the dining-room. Instantly the girl
crept downstairs and hid herself behind the portière over the door. It
was an audacious thing to do, but her audacity paid, as it generally
does.
All the lights in the room were ablaze; at one end of the table was a
dainty supper, flanked by a couple of gold-topped bottles. A little
shabby man with a hooked nose was in the act of taking off a heavy
fur-lined coat.
"How good of you to come," the Countess said. "Sit down and let me
wait upon you--there is no need at all to ring for the servants. You
can talk and eat at the same time. There! I will give you some of the
cigarettes you are so fond of."
The meal was finished presently. Hetty caught the scent of cigarette
smoke. The Countess lounged back in her chair, smoking too. She seemed
perfectly self-possessed. She looked so easy and comfortable that
Maitrank was filled with admiration.
"You are quite well and blooming?" he asked. "Ah, it is an easy
conscience."
"I've no conscience at all," the Countess laughed. "If I had possessed
such a thing I should not be here at this moment."
Maitrank muttered. "Perhaps not. Also you would not have robbed me of
the best part of £100,000. Charming swindler, where is my money?"
"Most courteous of Shylocks, it is all spent. I am going to be frank
with you, which is very virtuous on my part, seeing that you have
found me out. That San Salvator property is worth exactly nothing.
Also it is mortgaged in four places. But for a bit of pure bad luck I
should have got more out of you for it."
"Ay, ay," Maitrank showed his yellow fangs in a grin, "that is true.
Go on."
"You have found me out and I must pay you. It is no question of
honour, I am bound to do so to save my face. But meanwhile I must find
another victim."
"Meanwhile you will do nothing of the sort," said the usurer. "I am
not going to wait. Give me half and I will hold the sword suspended
for a fortnight. Give me those diamonds, and I will write a receipt
for £30,000."
A little flush of colour crept into Leona Lalage's cheek.
"They are worth half as much again," she cried. "You are a coward to
take advantage of your position like that, and with a woman too."
Maitrank grinned again, in no way abashed.
"I never want another woman like you to deal with," he said. "I prefer
a man, however great a scoundrel he may be. But you would have robbed
me; I have turned the tables on you. And I am going to squeeze you.
Give me those diamonds, take a receipt for the sum I mentioned, and I
wait a fortnight."
"And if I refuse your offer?" said Leona between her teeth.
Maitrank glanced meaningly round the luxurious room. He took in the
works of art, the carpets and skins, the flowers, and the soft shaded
light.
"This place is more comfortable than a gaol," he said coolly.
He saw nothing of the murderous look in the eyes of his companion.
Nobody had seen him enter the house, nobody even knew that he was in
London. All the servants had gone to bed. Lalage had by her hand an
accomplice ready for anything.
She checked the words that rose to her lips. She produced pen, ink,
and paper. With a passionate gesture she tore the diamonds from her
throat and breast and hair.
"Take them," she said hoarsely; "take them and write me a receipt at
once before I repent. Better do anything than come between a woman and
her jewels. There, a glass of wine. To your speedy ruin and
destruction."
She poured out the amber liquid from a fresh bottle into a fresh glass
and drank it down. With a shaking hand she filled another glass for
Maitrank, who accepted it gallantly. The diamonds he slipped coolly
into his pocket.
"Never lose your temper," he said. "It leads to apoplexy. Ah, my fine
madam, you thought to pinch me, but I have pinched you instead."
The Countess rose with her eyes blazing. She pointed to the door.
"Begone!" she cried. "Go, before I do you mischief. See, I help you on
with your coat. Now go, and don't let me see that ugly yellow face of
yours for a fortnight."
Maitrank chuckled as he passed down the steps. A policeman bade him
goodnight, a policeman chatting to a man in evening dress. The
policeman passed along the empty road, the other followed Maitrank. A
second later and Maitrank staggered, and fell headlong in the roadway.
The policeman had passed out of sight now. Like a flash the man in
evening dress was upon the form of the unconscious capitalist. He was
picked up as if he had been a feather-weight. An instant later and he
was back at No. 1, Lytton Avenue, again.
"Quick!" the Countess whispered. "You managed that very cleverly,
Balmayne. We have a credible witness who saw this creature leave the
house, thanks to you."
"And the idea of drugging the glass before pouring out the wine,
thanks to you," said Balmayne. "I must get this chap through the
garden and on the motor at once. Give me a few minutes' start, and
he's not likely to trouble us again."
Hetty sped from her hiding-place through the hall into the garden. The
little green gate was open, and beyond the motor, once more in its
black guise. Hetty stood there just a minute, wondering what next she
should do. If there was only somebody near that she could confide in
and send a message by! If she could only prevent Balmayne from
starting on his mysterious errand!
There was no time to be lost, for she could hear Balmayne coming down
the garden. And then a happy inspiration came to her. From her head
she removed the gold and ornamented dagger, with its long steel pin.
She stooped down. . .
Balmayne came with his burden, which he flung in and covered with a
rug. He pulled at the lever, and the great machine started, and then
dragged, as if some great weight was hanging on behind.
A snarling curse came from Balmayne's lips.
"A thousand maledictions on it!" he muttered. "Both back tyres are
punctured!"