With a laugh, the Englishman shook his head vigorously.
"No, thank you!" he declared. "I've had too convincing proof of your
distaste for interference in your affairs. You fight too sincerely, Mr.
Lanyard--and I'm a tired sleuth this very morning as ever was! I would
need a week's rest to fit me for the job of taking you into custody--a
week and some able-bodied assistance!... But," he amended with graver
countenance, "I will say this: if you're in England a week hence, I'll
be tempted to undertake the job on general principles. I don't in the
least question the sincerity of your intention to behave yourself
hereafter; but as a servant of the King, it's my duty to advise you
that England would prefer you to start life anew--as they say--in
another country. Several steamers sail for the States before the end of
the week: further details I leave entirely to your discretion. But go
you must," he concluded firmly.
"I understand..." said Lanyard; and would have said more, but couldn't.
There was something suspiciously like a mist before his eyes.
Avoiding the faces of his sweetheart and the Englishman, he turned
aside, put forth a hand blindly to a wing of the biplane to steady
himself, and stood with head bowed and limbs trembling.
Moving quietly to his side, the girl took his other hand and held it
tight....
Presently Lanyard shook himself impatiently and lifted his head again.
"Sorry," he said, apologetic--"but your generosity--when I looked for
nothing better than arrest--was a bit too much for my nerves!"
"Nonsense!" the Englishman commented with brusque good-humour. "We're
all upset. A drop of brandy will do us no end of good."
Unbuttoning his leather surtout, he produced a flask from an inner
pocket, filled its metal cup, and offered it to the girl.
"You first, if you please, Miss Shannon. No--I insist. You positively
need it."
She allowed herself to be persuaded, drank, coughed, gasped, and
returned the cup, which Wertheimer promptly refilled and passed to
Lanyard.
The raw spirits stung like fire, but proved an instant aid to the badly
jangled nerves of the adventurer. In another moment he was much more
himself.
Drinking in turn, Wertheimer put away the flask. "That's better!" he
commented. "Now I'll be able to cut along with this blessed machine
without fretting over the fate of Ekstrom. But till now I haven't been
able to forget----"
He paused and drew a hand across his eyes.
"It was, then, Ekstrom--you think?" Lanyard demanded.
"Unquestionably! De Morbihan had learned--I know--of your bargain with
Ducroy; and I know, too, that he and Ekstrom spent each morning in the
hangars at St. Germain, after your sensational evasion. It never
entered my head, of course, that they had any such insane scheme
brewing as that--else I would never have so giddily arranged with
Ducroy--through the Sûreté, you understand--to take Vauquelin's
place.... Besides, who else could it have been? Not De Morbihan, for
he's crippled for life, thanks to that affair in the Bois; not Popinot,
who was on his way to the Santé, last I saw of him; and never
Bannon--he was dead before I left Paris for Port Aviation."
"Dead!"
"Oh, quite!" the Englishman affirmed nonchalantly, "When we arrested
him at three this morning--charged with complicity in the murder of
Roddy--he flew into a passion that brought on a fatal haemorrhage. He
died within ten minutes."
There was a little silence....
"I may tell you, Mr. Lanyard," the Englishman resumed, looking up from
the motor, to which he was paying attentions with monkey-wrench and
oil-can, "that you were quite off your bat when you ridiculed the idea
of the 'International Underworld Unlimited.' Of course, if you _hadn't_
laughed, I shouldn't feel quite as much respect for you as I do; in
fact, the chances are you'd be in handcuffs or in a cell of the Santé,
this very minute.... But, absurd as it sounded--and was--the
'Underworld' project was a pet hobby of Bannon's--who'd been the brains
of a gang of criminals in New York for many years. He was a bit touched
on the subject: a monomaniac, if you ask me. And his enthusiasm won De
Morbihan and Popinot over ... and me! He took a wonderful fancy to me,
Bannon did; I really was appointed first-lieutenant in Greggs'
stead.... So you first won my sympathy by laughing at my offer," said
Wertheimer, restoring the oil-can to its place in the tool-kit;
"wherein you were very wise.... In fact, my personal feeling for you is
one of growing esteem, if you'll permit me to say so. You've most of
the makings of a man. Will you shake hands--with a copper's nark?"
He gave Lanyard's hand a firm and friendly grasp, and turned to the
girl.
"Good-bye, Miss Shannon. I'm truly grateful for the assistance you gave
us. Without you, we'd have been sadly handicapped. I understand you
have sent in your resignation? It's too bad: the Service will feel the
loss of you. But I think you were right to leave us, the circumstances
considered.... And now it's good-bye and good luck! I hope you may be
happy.... I'm sure you can't go far without coming across a highroad or
a village; but--for reasons not unconnected with my profession--I
prefer to remain in ignorance of the way you go."
Releasing her hand, he stepped back, saluted the lovers with a smile
and gay gesture, and clambered briskly to the pilot's seat of the
biplane.
When firmly established, he turned the switch of the starting mechanism.
The heavy, distinctive hum of the great motor filled that isolated
hollow in the Downs like the purring of a dynamo.
With a final wave of his hand, Wertheimer grasped the starting-lever.
Its _brool_ deepening, the Parrott stirred, shot forward abruptly. In
two seconds it was fifty yards distant, its silhouette already blurred,
its wheels lifting from the rim of the hollow.
Then lightly it leaped, soared, parted the mists, vanished....
For some time Lanyard and Lucy Shannon remained motionless, clinging
together, hand-in-hand, listening to the drone that presently dwindled
to a mere thread of sound and died out altogether in the obscurity
above them.
Then, turning, they faced each other, smiling a trace uncertainly, a
smile that said: "So all that is finished! ... Or, perhaps, we dreamed
it!"...
Suddenly, with a low cry, the girl gave herself to Lanyard's arms; and
as this happened the mists parted and bright sunlight flooded the
hollow in the Downs.
THE END