in the professor’s room and tried his door; it opened. All was dark.
There was a curious smell. Again I heard a noise. I was afraid he was
ill. I hurried to his assistance. Some one caught me from behind, and a
hand covered my mouth. I struggled, but I had no power. They bound and
gagged me. Just as we were going away one of them flashed an electric
torch on the floor. I saw the professor lying face downward. It was
horrible....”
“Yes, I know. They killed the poor old man. But what after that?”
“A very strong man carried me in his arms; we descended from the window
by a rope ladder. Below they had a closed-in car. We went up among the
mountains, before we stopped at a lonely house. They lifted me down,
and carried me to a room. I was locked in, a prisoner. Oh, they treated
me well enough. There was a peasant woman who brought me my food and
was kind to me. But the time was long, for I was terrified, and so
anxious about you. I thought I should go mad. Then last night they put
me in the car again, and brought me down. You know the rest.”
“What shall we do now? I suppose we had better go back to our room.”
She shook her head. “Nothing can make me spend another night there. The
very idea horrifies me. No, I want to go far away from here, very far.
If you don’t mind, I will get my things, stay at a hotel to-night, and
to-morrow morning leave for Paris.”
“I quite understand. But ... how about that cottage at Villefranche?
Won’t you come there with me?”
Again she shook her head. “No, not now....”
“Once you wanted to.”
“Once, yes. Once I had a dream.... That’s finished now. I’ve been a
foolish girl. I did lots of thinking when I was alone up there, and I
see my way clear. It’s a lonely way but perhaps I’ll have my share of
happiness. Yes, I’d better go.”
He felt that she was right, and did not try to dissuade her.
“At any rate,” he said, “you’ll let me lend you that money, the two
thousand we had such a fuss over?”
“Yes, I’ll borrow it gladly, and I’ll pay you back. I bless you for all
you’ve done for me....”
Next morning he saw her off at the station. As she leaned from the
window of a third class carriage she tried hard to keep back her
tears. He remembered their arrival at this same station, and how he
had followed her. He would miss her painfully. A last handclasp and
the train bore her away. A loneliness came over him that was almost a
heartache.
“That ends another chapter,” he said to himself. “Perhaps I’ll never
see her again. Ah! little girl, may the gods bless you and make you
happy.”
And with that he went sadly away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AN INTERLUDE
1.
About the end of May he bought the cottage near Villefranche. It had
pinkish walls that dripped roses and a long generous garden dropping to
the beach. There he had a little boat pulled up on the shingle and lay
for long hours in its shadow, watching the dreamy glimmer of the sea,
and listening to the musical plash of the waves. The velvet monotony of
sea and sky tranquilized his spirit.
He used to rise at four every morning, and work in his garden through
the cool hours; then go for a swim in the bay, floating lazily on the
milk-warm water, blinking at the brightness of the sun. In the evenings
he would fish from his boat, pulling softly home in the starlight. He
became soaked with sunshine, as brown as any of his peasant neighbours,
and just as carelessly happy. He learned to look on life with quiet
eyes.
It was pleasant to think that he could go on like this for twenty
years. He needed so little; his garden supplied him with fruit and
vegetables, the sea with fish. By selling some of his produce and
keeping chickens and rabbits, he could make the place self-supporting.
He had infinite time to dream and paint. If he painted patiently and
sincerely during twenty years surely he could achieve something.
This was the future he sketched out for himself. One thing was
lacking; he missed Margot. If only she were there, it seemed to him his
happiness would be complete.
But she was back at work with Folette. She had taken her old room
again, the little mansard room, overlooking the Boulevard Montparnasse.
She wrote to him quite often, and always that she was very happy.
Often as he lingered in his garden, he would look up and imagine her
standing in the doorway of the cottage in a frame of roses. She seemed
to complete the picture so perfectly. What a pity she was not there.
Well, one can’t have everything. True, he might ask her to marry him.
But the idea of marriage dismayed him; it seemed so irrevocable.
Romance ended there, he told himself. He was only twenty-three and
a lifetime is long to spend with one woman. An early marriage is a
mistake, so every one said. He missed her companionship awfully, but
there! ... no doubt in time he would get used to the loss of her!
2.
It was curious how far away Monte Carlo seemed. Unfamiliar mountains
heaved up behind him; another topaz hoop separated him from the gloomy
rock and the glittering point. Sometimes he would sail his little
boat far out, and from the shadow of his sail, watch the poisoned
paradise. It seemed to him like a dream picture, rising in terraced
beauty from the azure of the sea. The Casino glittered like a heap
of jewels, and the mountains brooded in violet abstraction. All was
loveliness,--creamy beach and cradled harbour, palms and olive groves,
snowy villas gleaming in green gardens, and shining slopes of pine. He
gazed at it with rapture,--then shuddered at the thought of all that
lay behind.
For Monte Carlo may be all things to all men, the most adorable spot
in the world or the most hateful. And to him, filled with the moral
strength that is born of peace, the place was increasingly detestable.
Its beauty was the fatal beauty of a glorious courtesan, its people
parasites living on the folly and depravity of mankind. From prince to
page-boy they were dependent on that great temple of chance into which
poured streams of gold from all the world. Its white range of palaces
were to him the symbol of all that was weak and wanton in human nature.
As he sat in the shadow of his sail he recalled them all so plainly,
the spendthrift and the starveling, the derelict and the degenerate,
swirling round in the eternal circle of that greater wheel which
symbolizes the whole, unable to extricate themselves, being drawn
nearer and nearer to that vortex which is ruin.
He detested it all now and saw it with other eyes. He had escaped its
lures. Never again would he set foot in its polluted halls.
Then one day a shadow fell across his path and looking up he saw Bob
Bender.
3.
Bob, rusty and creaky as ever, looked singularly out of place in his
radiant garden.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, rubbing his hands together with a rasping
sound, “for interruptin’ your horticulturous provocations.”
“Not at all. Glad to see you.”
“Thank you, sir. You’ve got a tidy sorto’ place ’ere. Now if I was you
I’d bank up that celery a little more, an’ them artichokes want cuttin’
back. Awful things artichokes is to grow on you, if you gives ’em a
chance.”
“What do you know about gardening?”
“Most all there is to know, I expect, considerin’ that I was once in
that way myself. Indeed I ’opes some day, if ever I can scrape up
enough money, to buy a little place I know out ’Ampstead way. But
there, I didn’t come ’ere to talk of gardens; I came over on quite
another matter. Krantz sent me.”
“Krantz!”
“Yes. You see that Doctor Bergius ’as got something up ’is sleeve.
We can’t quite make ’im out. ’E’s a great one, ’e is. There ain’t a
greater international crook on the Continent to-day. ’E was ragin’ mad
because Krantz got the system away from ’im, and now ’e swears ’e’ll
get even, and do the Casino one in the eye.”
“That reminds me,” said Hugh. “What happened that night after we got
away?”
“Oh, they thought you’d got at a knife with your free ’and and cut
the ropes. I joined the chase and ’eaded ’em in the wrong direction.
You see my bein’ with Vulning was an idea of Krantz’s. He suspected
that Vulning ’ad the papers and got me to approach ’im. I pretended
I’d fallen out with Krantz; and after a bit Vulning told me ’e ’ad the
papers. It was me suggested ’e get you to translate ’em. Krantz was to
come to your rescue. But we didn’t bargain on the other gang. However,
it came off all right.”
“What do you want of me now?”
“Well, you see, I’m no longer in the confidence of that crowd. The
doctor distrusted me from the first. There was the business of the
window for one thing. Why didn’t I ’appen to fasten it properly? Anyhow
they won’t ’ave anything to do with me now; and I can’t get to the
bottom of the game they are playin’. But I do know they are ’avin’ an
important meetin’ to-morrow at Vulning’s villa. It’s at two o’clock.
There will only be Vulning and the doctor and Castelli. Now we were
thinkin’ if we could get Vulning out of the way, and you could take his
place....”
“What!”
“It’s really very simple, sir. You see you’re so extraordinary like
’im any way. Just a touch of make-up and you’d be perfect. We’ll give
you a key to the villa and you can change into some of ’is clothes and
receive the other two in the library. You can close the curtains and
darken the room. Then you’ll deceive them, ’ear their plans and let us
know.”
“But I’m risking my life.... If these fellows suspect, they’ll shoot me
like a dog.”
“It’s true there’s a lot of risk; but Krantz says ’e’ll pay you ten
thousand francs if you get the information ’e wants.”
“I’d rather not. I swore I’d never set foot in the Principality again.”
“Krantz says that, if ever ’e asked a favour of you, you promised you’d
do it.”
“That’s true.... Well, tell Krantz ... I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE PLOT
“Cher Comerade:
There is something which weighs on me and of which I have been trying
to write to you since several days.
You have heard me speak of Florent Garnier. Twice has he asked me in
_marriage_, and a week ago he sought me out and demand me for the
third time.
He is more prosperous than ever. He has a grand auto, and a villa
near the forest of St. Germain. On Sunday with Jeanne we drive out to
see it, and it is truly charming. Only he says he is so lonely there
all by himself....
What am I to do? I think I am the most unhappy girl in all Paris. It
is a great chance for me, and Madame Folette, Jeanne and the girls
tell me I am crazy to refuse. Which is quite true because I am all
alone in the life....
I do not ask your advice because I know you will tell me to take him
too, and I don’t like when you do that. All the same I thing you are
right, and this time it is for the best that I shall tell him....
_Yes._
I hope you are well, and happy, and think of you very, very often.
Votre petite soeur adoptée,
MARGOT.
Florent wishes we marry on the seventeenth September so that in that
day you must think of me and wish me happiness.”
It was quarter past one when Hugh received this letter; it was half
past when he jumped into the carmine car and told the chauffeur to
drive him to Vulning’s villa.
“Keep to the blind side of that chap and he’ll never know you,” Bob
Bender had said. “What with Vulning’s coat and hat and them yellow
glasses he’s wearin’ lately any one would take you for his twin
brother. The chauffeur’s had one or two drinks too much anyway,--we’ve
seen to that. ’E’ll ’ave all ’is time taken up lookin’ after ’is car.”
“And Vulning?”
“We’ve got ’im safe. You see there’s a little girl he’s been after for
some time. Mrs. Emslie’s daughter wot committed suicide. She’s workin’
as a nurse girl; but she won’t ’ave anything to do with ’im. Well, we
got ’er to send ’im a note sayin’ she’d meet ’im at one o’clock in a
room in a certain ’otel that’s a bit out of the way. ’E came all right;
and, while he waited for her, we simply locked ’im in. ’E’s there now,
’ammerin’ at the door and ragin’ like a madman. We won’t let ’im out
till you get back.”
“I’m feeling nervous.”
“Don’t be afraid. With that touch of make-up you’re as like ’im as two
peas. You’ll fool ’em all right. ’Ere’s a key to the front door. Now
run and jump into the car as if you were in a ’urry. Take this. It will
steady you.”
Hugh took the small flask of brandy that Bender handed to him, walked
quickly to the car and leaped in. The chauffeur did not even look at
him. He touched the button that started the motor, moved into gear and
the car shot forward.
As Hugh left the town below him his uneasiness increased. His
excitement seemed to mount with the mounting road, his heart pounded
like the straining motor of the car that bore him on. He took a pull at
the brandy flask, and felt better.
They were now among the olive trees and still climbing. A sleepy quiet
brooded around them. When they drew near the solitary house Hugh wanted
to leap out and make for safety, but it was too late to draw back.
As the chauffeur drove the car around to the garage, Hugh mounted the
front steps and opened the door. A rush of stale air met him. The
hallway was dark and dirty. Vulning did not seem to have a caretaker
and probably only slept there once in a while. The rooms leading off
the hall were shuttered and dark. Hugh went into the library, threw
back the shutters and unclasped the window. The light leaped in like
a wild thing. He looked carefully out of the window. It gave on the
terrace with a balustrade about three feet high. Below was the road
leading to the garage, and beyond that dense shrubbery. He closed the
window without clasping it, then drew the heavy curtains, plunging the
room in mysterious gloom.
Once more he went out into the unlighted hall. How quiet and dark the
house was! His footsteps awakened echoes everywhere. He went upstairs
to where a door, slightly open, showed a chink of light. It appeared to
be Vulning’s bedroom. The bed was unmade, the room untidy. He took off
his overcoat and drew on a dressing-gown he found lying over a chair.
On the tiny table at the head of the bed was a small automatic pistol.
Seeing that it was loaded, he put it into his pocket.
He felt horribly “funky,” but a glance in the mirror reassured him.
His sunburnt skin had been made up to resemble Vulning’s sallow
one; little crowsfeet were round his eyes, and cynical lines about
his mouth. His hair was parted in the middle and brushed back like
Vulning’s. When he put on Vulning’s yellow glasses it would have taken
a very clever man indeed to detect the substitution. If only his
confounded nervousness would not give him away! He wound a silk muffler
around his neck, noting as he did so how his hands trembled. That would
never do! He took another big swig at the brandy flask. Courage glowed
in him, even to the point of recklessness. He was ready to go down and
face them.
As he descended the stairway somewhat unsteadily he saw that his guests
were already awaiting him. How quietly they had come in! He had not
heard them. Golaz and Gamba were in the hall and glowered at him with
fierce and restless eyes as he passed. In the darkened library Castelli
and the doctor were talking in low tones, bending over the table on
which lay a large plan. They turned as he entered.
Hugh shivered as he shook the large hairy hand of Doctor Bergius. How
he hated this man. Those deep set eyes were profound with cruelty; that
dense blue-black beard concealed a face that might be that of a fiend
incarnate; his large fleshy lips of a bright unnatural red, set in that
black beard, gave a singularly repulsive impression. When he smiled it
was with a grin, callous, relentless, orientally cruel.
He smiled now, and Hugh was glad of his yellow goggles. They concealed
the fact that his eyes were black instead of blue. He was glad, too,
of the drawn heavy curtain. It seemed to him that even with all his
precautions Doctor Bergius was regarding him with a curious fixity.
“Ah, young man,” he said in his metallic voice, “you have kept us
waiting. There is so much to be done and we have so little time.
Castelli, close that door.”
Hugh nodded sullenly. He dared not trust himself to speak. Once again
Doctor Bergius regarded him curiously. He did not seem satisfied. He
went up to Hugh and stared at him very hard. Hugh’s heart began to
thump.
“I am discovered,” he thought, and his hand went to his pistol.
But the Doctor turned away with an expression of contempt. “Pah!” he
said. “You’ve been drinking again. I hope you’re not off on one of your
bouts.”
Hugh shook his head. He affected a certain surly stupidity. “No, no,
doctor,” he said thickly, “only a touch of brandy. Got sore throat.
Caught a chill on the golf course. Felt shaky. Took it to steady me,
clear my head.”
“Well, it must be the last until to-morrow evening. After that you can
go to the devil your own way. Promise me that now,--the last.”
Hugh nodded sulkily.
“That is understood. Your part in the programme is a small one, but
important. You must have all your wits about you. If you fail you may
throw out the whole plan.”
“All right. I’ll keep off the stuff.”
“Good. Now to business. Look!... Here’s a plan of the Casino.”
Hugh showed an eager interest. In order to see it better he edged round
to the side of the table nearest the window. He had Doctor Bergius on
his right, on his left Castelli. The plan showed the entire ground
floor of the Casino, the different rooms, the entrances, the windows,
even the tables. Here and there were traced lines and figures in red,
with names in Italian.
“You already have an idea,” went on Doctor Bergius, “of what the great
plan is. It is something unheard of, unthought of, magnificent in its
audacity. Only a man of genius could have imagined it, perfected it
in all its detail. Only one man living could have done it. That man
is myself. It is what the Americans call a ‘hold-up.’ _We propose to
hold-up the Casino._”
Here the doctor paused to give effect to his words, then continued:
“To do that, you realize, is a project of the greatest gravity. But I
have arranged everything; and it should go like clockwork. In the first
place we need lots of men. I have a band of about sixty, all desperate
characters, recruited from the slums of Genoa. They are supposed to be
a touring athletic club, all wear the same caps and ties. You may have
noticed some of them already. They have been here for some days and
have visited the Casino in the morning when it is open to all visitors.
Besides this we have secured admission cards for about a score of them.
They know the ground. Every man has his part and is drilled in it.
Each is of proved and desperate courage, will carry two six-chambered
revolvers, and know how to use them. Ah, my friend, it is a marvellous
conception. You should have been present at our rehearsals.”
“What is my part?”
“Your part, my dear Vulning, is very simple. We have got a day ticket
for you in the name of a Swedish gentleman. You will wear a heavy
blonde beard and be completely disguised. This is for your sake. You
see with what consideration we treat you. At six o’clock in the
evening you will enter the Casino. That is the hour of affluence when
all the tables are working, and the visitors have left their money
behind. There should be several million francs in sight.”
Here the doctor paused and rubbed his hands crisply.
“But before going any further, I will explain my ideas as to the
division of the spoil. Each of our men has been promised five thousand
francs. For that they would risk their lives a dozen times. Golaz and
Gamba are to have a hundred thousand francs each. You and Castelli will
have five hundred thousand. I will be modestly contented with whatever
is left. Is that understood?”
Castelli nodded. Hugh followed suit.
“Agreed. Now, Vulning, for your _rôle_! You enter the Casino, I say,
at six o’clock precisely, disguised as a Swede. You go straight to the
table next to the refreshment room. It has been arranged that a man
will rise and give you a place. You will sit for a few minutes, then
suddenly, ...” the doctor paused, and took from his pocket a revolver,
“you will rise to your feet. You will take this from your pocket, and,
holding it to your head, you will fire.... Ah! my friend Vulning, don’t
start. It will only be loaded with a blank cartridge. It will do you
no harm. Then having fired you will collapse and slip under the table.
That’s all you have to do for five hundred thousand francs. Easy, isn’t
it?”
“And what happens then?”
“What happens then?...” Doctor Bergius raised both hands exultantly.
“Ha! I will tell you. That is the signal. Every one in the rooms
will hear the shot and rush to the table. You know them. They will
crowd around and push and jostle. They will want to get a glimpse
of the suicide. There will be a mob. The attendants will be making
frantic efforts to get out the body. Every one’s attention will be
distracted.... Then it is that things will _begin_ to happen.”
Doctor Bergius grew more and more impressive.
“We will have a dozen of our own men in the small room with the Opium
Dream on the ceiling. Behold! it will be empty but for them. Every
one else will have run to see the suicide. Only the croupiers will
have remained at their posts. Everything will be easy. Six of our men
will hold up the croupiers while the others throw open the windows. If
you remember, there are four windows giving on the terrace near the
band-stand. My men will be waiting down below. They will swarm up. To
protect them I will have a cordon of men running down to the sea. There
I will have waiting also two very fast steam launches.”
The doctor seemed to see it all. He spoke as a man inspired.
“After that it will be easy. A rush, a great drive. We will sweep them
all before us. They will be like frightened sheep. Think of it! There
will be forty of us all armed to the teeth. Can’t you see them flying
before us? We will herd them all into the refreshment room. Castelli
with twenty men will control the main rooms; Golaz with ten men will
take the long room that gives on the terrace; Gamba with another ten
will attend to the _salon privé_. We will shoot down any one that shows
the least sign of resistance. There will be panic, confusion, terror.
We will pen the croupiers in corners at the revolver’s point. Castelli,
Golaz and Gamba will run to the tables and scoop the big notes into
bags. We only want the big bills.”
“Hold on!” said Hugh. “What about the mechanism that automatically
locks the coffers?”
“We’ve seen to that. An electrician in our pay has put it out of
action. Everything has been thought of. In five minutes it will all
be over. We will then gather in a band under the big dome, fire a
final volley over the heads of the crowd and beat a retreat. Then we
will drop from the windows, run to the beach, tumble into the waiting
launches and ho! for Italy. It will all be over before any one realizes
what has happened. Magnificent, isn’t it?”
“And what about me?”
“Ah, my dear Monsieur Vulning, do not worry about your precious self.
Yours is the easiest part to play. You will, of course, beat a retreat
with us. We will put you ashore at St. Remo if you wish. You can then
remove your disguise and return here. No one will even suspect you....”
Again Doctor Bergius looked at him curiously.
“I believe you are a coward, Vulning. Look here, Castelli will go
through your part just to show you. I have here some blank cartridges.
See! I charge the revolver. Now, Castelli....”
Castelli stood up by the table. He held the revolver about three feet
from his head and fired. Then he dropped to the floor and remained
there, grinning up at Hugh.
“_Voila_,” said the doctor. “That’s all. No risk for you. You lie
snug under the table and watch events. Easy, isn’t it? Ah, the whole
conception is superb, the work of a man of genius.... _Listen!_...” The
doctor stopped suddenly, grew tense, alert. “What’s that? Who’s out
there with Golaz and Gamba?”
Hugh, too, was listening. He heard excited voices and steps coming
down the hall. He trembled and as he reached out for support his hand
touched an inkwell made out of the fuse of an old German shell. The
next instant the door was flung violently open and a man entered.
It was Paul Vulning.
CHAPTER NINE
THE HOLD-UP
1.
“Hold him! Hold the impostor!” cried Vulning.
Hugh dashed the brass inkwell at the head of Doctor Bergius. The doctor
collapsed over the table. Castelli, who was still on the floor in a
crouching position, clutched at Hugh’s leg. Hugh launched a vicious
kick and caught him on the jaw. With one bound, he was behind the
crimson curtains, and out on the terrace. He leaped the balustrade and
plunged into the shrubbery. Madly he tore on. About fifty yards away
was a high wall. He leaped at it desperately. His hands just clutched
the coping, and he hung, slipping and scraping, feeling for a foothold.
Then his toe caught in a tiny projection, and in another moment he had
drawn himself up.