first sharp stroke of the hour; and at just that moment the door from
the street opened and a man entered. He was rather tall and slender, and
a sinister black mask hid his face from the quickly raised eyes of the
warden. For a bare fraction of a second the two men stared at each
other, then, instinctively, the warden's right hand moved toward the
open drawer of his desk where a revolver lay, and his left toward
several electrically connected levers. The intruder noted both gestures,
and, unarmed himself, stood silent. The warden was first to speak.
"Well, what is it?"
"You have a prisoner here, Pietro Petrozinni," was the reply, in a
pleasant voice. "I have come to demand his release."
The warden's right hand was raised above the desk top, and the revolver
in it clicked warningly.
"You have come to demand his release, eh?" he queried. He still sat
motionless, with his eyes fixed on the black mask. "How did you pass the
outside guard?"
"He was bribed," was the ready response. "Now, Warden," the masked
intruder continued pacifically, "it would be much more pleasant all
around and there would be less personal danger in it for both of us if
you would release Signor Petrozinni without question. I may add that no
bribe was offered to you because your integrity was beyond question."
"Thank you," said the warden grimly, "and it shall remain so as long as
I have this." He tapped on the desk with the revolver.
"Oh, that isn't loaded," said the masked man quietly.
One quick glance at the weapon showed the warden that the cartridges had
been drawn! His teeth closed with a snap at the treachery of it, and
with his left hand he pulled back one of the levers--that which should
arouse the jailers, turnkeys and guards. Instead of the insistent
clangor which he expected, there was silence.
"That wire has been cut," the stranger volunteered.
With clenched teeth the warden pulled the police alarm.
"And that wire was cut, too," the stranger explained.
The warden came to his feet with white face, and nails biting into the
palms of his hands. He still held the revolver as he advanced upon the
masked man threateningly.
"Not too close, now," warned the intruder, with a sudden hardening of
his voice. "Believe me, it would be best for you to release this man,
because it must be done, pleasantly or otherwise. I have no desire to
injure you, still less do I intend that you shall injure me; and it
would be needless for either of us to make a personal matter of it. I
want your prisoner, Signor Petrozinni--you will release him at once!
That's all!"
The warden paused, dazed, incredulous before the audacity of it, while
he studied two calm eyes which peered at him through the slits of the
mask.
"And if I _don't_ release him?" he demanded at last, fiercely.
"Then I shall take him," was the reply. "It has been made impossible for
you to give an alarm," the stranger went on. "The very men on whom you
most depended have been bought, and even if they were within sound of
your voice now they wouldn't respond. One of your assistants who has
been here for years unloaded the revolver in the desk there, and less
than an hour ago cut the prison alarm wire. I, personally, cut the
police alarm outside the building. So you see!"
As yet there was no weapon in sight, save the unloaded revolver in the
warden's hand; at no time had the stranger's voice been raised. His tone
was a perfectly normal one.
"Besides yourself there are only five other men employed here who are
now awake," the masked man continued. "These are four inner guards and
the outer guard. They have all been bought--the turnkeys at five
thousand dollars each, and the outer guard at seven thousand. The
receipt of all of this money is conditional upon the release of Signor
Petrozinni, therefore it is to their interest to aid me as against you.
I am telling you all this, frankly and fully, to make you see how
futile any resistance would be."
"But who--who is this Signor Petrozinni, that such powerful influences
should be brought to bear in his behalf?" demanded the bewildered
warden.
"He is a man who can command a vast fortune--and Señor Alvarez is at the
point of death. That, I think, makes it clear. Now, if you'll sit down,
please!"
"Sit down?" bellowed the warden.
Suddenly he was seized by a violent, maddening rage. He took one step
forward and raised the empty revolver to strike. The masked man moved
slightly to one side and his clenched fist caught the warden on the
point of the chin. The official went down without a sound and lay still,
inert. A moment later the door leading into the corridor of the prison
opened, and Signor Petrozinni, accompanied by one of the guards, entered
the warden's office. The masked man glanced around at them, and with a
motion of his head indicated the door leading to the street. They
passed through, closing the door behind them.
For a little time the intruder stood staring down at the still body,
then he went to the telephone and called police headquarters.
"There has been a jail delivery at the prison," he said in answer to the
"hello" of the desk-sergeant at the other end of the wire. "Better send
some of your men up to investigate."
"Who is that?" came the answering question.
The stranger replaced the receiver on the hook, stripped off his black
mask, dropped it on the floor beside the motionless warden, and went
out. It was Mr. Grimm!
XVIII
NOTICE TO LEAVE
At fifteen minutes of midnight when Miss Thorne, followed by Signor
Petrozinni, entered the sitting-room of her apartments in the hotel and
turned up the light they found Mr. Grimm already there. He rose
courteously. At sight of him Miss Thorne's face went deathly white, and
the escaped prisoner turned toward the door again.
"I would advise that you stay, your Highness," said Mr. Grimm coldly.
Signor Petrozinni paused, amazed. "You will merely subject yourself to
the humiliation of arrest if you attempt to leave. The house is guarded
by a dozen men."
"Your Highness?" Miss Thorne repeated blankly. "You are assuming a
great deal, aren't you, Mr. Grimm?"
"I don't believe," and Mr. Grimm's listless eyes were fixed on those of
the escaped prisoner, "I don't believe that Prince Benedetto d'Abruzzi
will deny his identity?"
There was one of those long tense silences when eye challenges eye, when
wit is pitted against wit, and mind is hauled around to a new, and
sometimes unattractive, view of a situation. Miss Thorne stood silent
with rigid features, colorless as marble; but slowly a sneer settled
about the lips of Signor Petrozinni that was, and he sat down.
[Illustration: A long tense silence when eye challenges eye.]
"You seem to know everything, Mr. Grimm," he taunted.
"I _try_ to know everything, your Highness," was the reply. Mr. Grimm
was still standing. "I know, for instance, that one week ago the plot
which had your freedom for its purpose was born; I know the contents of
every letter that passed between you and Miss Thorne here,
notwithstanding the invisible ink; I know that four days ago several
thousand dollars was smuggled in to you concealed in a basket of fruit;
I know, with that money, you bribed your way out, while Miss Thorne or
one of her agents bribed the guard in front; I know that the escape was
planned for to-night, and that the man who was delegated to take charge
of it is now locked in my office under guard. It may interest you to
know that it was I who took his place and made the escape possible. I
know that much!"
"You--_you_--!" the prince burst out suddenly. "_You_ aided me to
escape?"
Miss Thorne was staring, staring at them with her eyes widely distended,
and her red lips slightly parted.
"_Why_ did you assist him?" she demanded.
"Details are tiresome, Miss Thorne," replied Mr. Grimm with the utmost
courtesy. "There is one other thing I know--that the Latin compact will
not be signed in the United States."
The prince's eyes met Miss Thorne's inquiringly, and she shook her
head. The sneer was still playing about his mouth.
"Anything else of special interest that you know?" he queried.
"Yes, of interest to both you and Miss Thorne. That is merely if the
Latin compact is signed anywhere, the English-speaking countries of the
world might construe it as a _casus belli_ and strike soon enough, and
hard enough, to put an end to it once for all."
Again there was silence for a little while. Slowly the prince's eyes
were darkening, and a shadow flitted across Miss Thorne's face. The
prince rose impatiently.
"Well, what is the meaning of all this? Are you going to take me back to
prison?"
"No," said Mr. Grimm. He glanced at his watch. "I will give each of you
one-half hour to pack your belongings. We must catch a train at one
o'clock."
"Leave the city?" gasped Miss Thorne.
"Impossible!" exclaimed the prince.
"One-half hour," said Mr. Grimm coldly.
"But--but it's out of the question," expostulated Miss Thorne.
"One-half hour," repeated Mr. Grimm. He didn't dare to meet those
wonderful blue-gray eyes now. "A special car with private compartments
will be attached to the regular train, and the only inconvenience to you
will be the fact that the three of us will be compelled to sit up all
night. Half a dozen other Secret Service men will be on the train with
us."
And then the prince's entire manner underwent a change.
"Mr. Grimm," he said earnestly, "it is absolutely necessary that I
remain in Washington for another week--remain here even if I am locked
up again--lock me up again if you like. I can't sign compacts in
prison."
"Twenty-five minutes," replied Mr. Grimm quietly.
"But here," exclaimed the prince explosively, "I have credentials which
will insure my protection in spite of your laws."
"I know that," said Mr. Grimm placidly. "Credentials of that nature can
not be presented at midnight, and you will not be here to-morrow to
present them. The fact that you have those credentials, your Highness,
is one reason why you must leave Washington now, to-night."
XIX
BY WIRELESS
They paused in the office, the three of them, and while Miss Thorne was
giving some instructions as to her baggage the prince went over to the
telegraph booth and began to write a message on a blank. Mr. Grimm
appeared at his elbow.
"No," he said.
"Can't I send a telegram if I like?" demanded the prince sharply.
"No, nor a note, nor a letter, nor may you speak to any one," Mr. Grimm
informed him quietly.
"Why, it's an outrage!" flamed the prince.
"It depends altogether on the view-point, your Highness," said Mr. Grimm
courteously. "If you will pardon me I might suggest that it is needless
to attract attention by your present attitude. You may--I say you
_may_--compel me to humiliate you." The prince glared at him angrily. "I
mean handcuff you," Mr. Grimm added gratuitously.
"Handcuff _me_?"
"I shouldn't hesitate, your Highness, if it was necessary."
After a moment Miss Thorne signified her readiness, and they started
out. At the door Mr. Grimm stopped and turned back to the desk, as if
struck by some sudden thought, leaving them together.
"Oh, Miss Thorne left a message for some one," Mr. Grimm was saying to
the clerk. "She's decided it is unnecessary." He turned and glanced
toward her, and the clerk's eyes followed his. "Please give it to me."
It was passed over without comment. It was a sealed envelope addressed
to Mr. Charles Winthrop Rankin. Mr. Grimm glanced at the superscription,
tore the envelope into bits and dropped it into a basket. A minute
later he was assisting Miss Thorne and the prince into an automobile
that was waiting in front. As the car moved away two other automobiles
appeared from corners near-by and trailed along behind to the station.
There a private compartment-car was in readiness for them.
It was a long, dreary ride--a ride of utter silence save for the roar
and clatter of the moving train. Mr. Grimm, vigilant, implacable, sat at
ease; Miss Thorne, resigned to the inevitable, whatever it might be,
studied the calm, quiet face from beneath drooping lids; and the prince,
sullen, scowling, nervously wriggled in his seat. Philadelphia was
passed, and Trenton, and then the dawn began to break through the night.
It was quite light when they rolled into Jersey City.
"I'm sorry for all the inconvenience I have caused," Mr. Grimm
apologized to Miss Thorne as he assisted her to alight. "You must be
exhausted."
"If it were only that!" she replied, with a slight smile. "And is it
too early to ask where we are going?"
The prince turned quickly at the question.
"We take the _Lusitania_ for Liverpool at ten o'clock," said Mr. Grimm
obligingly. "Meanwhile let's get some coffee and a bite to eat."
"Are you going to make the trip with us?" asked the prince.
Mr. Grimm shrugged his shoulders.
Weary and spiritless they went aboard the boat, and a little while later
they steamed out into the stream and threaded their way down the bay.
Miss Thorne stood at the rail gazing back upon the city they were
leaving. Mr. Grimm stood beside her; the prince, still sullen, still
scowling, sat a dozen feet away.
"This is a wonderful thing you have done, Mr. Grimm," said Miss Thorne
at last.
"Thank you," he said simply. "It was a destructive thing that you
intended to do. Did you ever see a more marvelous thing than that?" and
he indicated the sky-line of New York. "It's the most marvelous bit of
mechanism in the world; the dynamo of the western hemisphere. You would
have destroyed it, because in the world-war that would have been the
first point of attack."
She raised her eyebrows, but was silent.
"Somehow," he went on after a moment, "I could never associate a woman
with destructiveness, with wars and with violence."
"That is an unjust way of saying it," she interposed. And then,
musingly: "Isn't it odd that you and I--standing here by the rail--have,
in a way, held the destinies of the whole great earth in our hands? And
now your remark makes me feel that you alone have stood for peace and
the general good, and I for destruction and evil."
"I didn't mean that," Mr. Grimm said quickly. "You have done your duty
as you saw it, and--"
"Failed!" she interrupted.
"And I have done my duty as I saw it."
"And won!" she added. She smiled a little sadly. "I think, perhaps you
and I might have been excellent friends if it had not been for all
this."
"I know we should have," said Mr. Grimm, almost eagerly. "I wonder if
you will ever forgive me for--for--?"
"Forgive you?" she repeated. "There is nothing to forgive. One must do
one's duty. But I wish it could have been otherwise."
The Statue of Liberty slid by, and Governor's Island and Fort Hamilton;
then, in the distance, Sandy Hook light came into view.
"I'm going to leave you here," said Mr. Grimm, and for the first time
there was a tense, strained note in his voice.
Miss Thorne's blue-gray eyes had grown mistily thoughtful; the words
startled her a little and she turned to face him.
"It may be that you and I shall never meet again," Mr. Grimm went on.
"We _will_ meet again," she said gravely. "When and where I don't know,
but it will come."
"And perhaps then we may be friends?" He was pleading now.
"Why, we are friends now, aren't we?" she asked, and again the smile
curled her scarlet lips. "Surely we are friends, aren't we?"
"We are," he declared positively.
As they started forward a revenue cutter which had been hovering about
Sandy Hook put toward them, flying some signal at her masthead. Slowly
the great boat on which they stood crept along, then the clang of a bell
in the engine-room brought her to a standstill, and the revenue cutter
came alongside.
"I leave you here," Mr. Grimm said again. "It's good-by."
"Good-by," she said softly. "Good-by, till we meet once more."
She extended both hands impulsively and he stood for an instant staring
into the limpid gray eyes, then, turning, went below. From the revenue
cutter he waved a hand at her as the great _Lusitania_, moving again,
sped on her way. The prince joined Miss Thorne at the rail. The scowl
was still on his face.
"And now what?" he demanded abruptly. "This man has treated us as if we
were a pair of children."
"He's a wonderful man," she replied.
"That may be--but we have been fools to allow him to do all this."
Miss Thorne turned flatly and faced him.
"We are not beaten yet," she said slowly. "If all things go well we--we
are not beaten yet."
The _Lusitania_ was rounding Montauk Point when the wireless brought her
to half-speed with a curt message:
"Isabel Thorne and Pietro Petrozinni aboard _Lusitania_ wanted on
warrants charging conspiracy. Tug-boat will take them off, intercepting
you beyond Montauk Point.
"CAMPBELL, Secret Service."
"What does _that_ mean?" asked the prince, bewildered.
"It means that the compact will be signed in Washington in spite of Mr.
Grimm," and there was the glitter of triumph in her eyes. "With the aid
of one of the maids in the depot at Jersey City I managed to get a
telegram of explanation and instruction to De Foe in New York, and this
is the result. He signed Mr. Campbell's name, I suppose, to give weight
to the message."
An hour later a tug-boat came alongside, and they went aboard.
XX
THE LIGHT IN THE DOME
From where he sat, in a tiny alcove which jutted out and encroached upon
the line of the sidewalk, Mr. Grimm looked down on Pennsylvania Avenue,
the central thread of Washington, ever changing, always brilliant,
splashed at regular intervals with light from high-flung electric arcs.
The early theater crowd was in the street, well dressed, well fed,
careless for the moment of all things save physical comfort and
amusement; automobiles, carriages, cabs, cars flowed past endlessly; and
yet Mr. Grimm saw naught of it. In the distance, at one end of the
avenue the dome of the capitol cleft the shadows of night, and a single
light sparkled at its apex; in the other direction, at the left of the
treasury building which abruptly blocks the wide thoroughfare, were the
shimmering windows of the White House.
Motionless, moody, thoughtful, Mr. Grimm sat staring, staring straight
ahead, comprehending none of these things which lay before him as in a
panorama. Instead, his memory was conjuring up a pair of subtle,
blue-gray eyes, now pleading, now coquettish, now frankly defiant; two
slim, white, wonderful hands; the echo of a pleasant, throaty laugh; a
splendid, elusive, radiant-haired phantom. Truly, a woman of mystery!
Who was this Isabel Thorne who, for months past, had been the
storm-center and directing mind of a vast international intrigue which
threatened the world with war? Who, this remarkable young woman who with
ease and assurance commanded ambassadors and played nations as pawns?
Now that she was safely out of the country Mr. Grimm had leisure to
speculate. Upon him had devolved the duty of blocking her plans, and he
had done so--merciless alike of his own feeling and of hers. Hesitation
or evasion had never occurred to him. It was a thing to be done, and he
did it. He wondered if she had understood, there at the last beside the
rail? He wondered if she knew the struggle it had cost him deliberately
to send her out of his life? Or had even surmised that her expulsion
from the country, by his direct act, was wholly lacking in the
exaltation of triumph to him; that it struck deeper than that, below the
listless, official exterior, into his personal happiness? And wondering,
he knew that she _did_ understand.
A silent shod waiter came and placed the coffee things at his elbow. He
didn't heed. The waiter poured a demi-tasse, and inquiringly lifted a
lump of sugar in the silver tongs. Still Mr. Grimm didn't heed. At last
the waiter deposited the sugar on the edge of the fragile saucer, and
moved away as silently as he had come. A newspaper which Mr. Grimm had
placed on the end of the table when he sat down, rattled a little as a
breeze from the open window caught it, then the top sheet slid off and
fell to the floor. Mr. Grimm was still staring out the window.
Slowly the room behind him was thinning of its crowd as the
theater-bound diners went out in twos and threes. The last of these
disappeared finally, and save for Mr. Grimm there were not more than a
dozen persons left in the place. Thus for a few minutes, and then the
swinging doors leading from the street clicked, and a gentleman entered.
He glanced around, as if seeking a seat near a window, then moved along
in Mr. Grimm's direction, between the rows of tables. His gaze lingered
on Mr. Grimm for an instant, and when he came opposite he stooped and
picked up the fallen newspaper sheet.
"Your paper?" he inquired courteously.
Mr. Grimm was still gazing dreamily out of the window.
"I beg pardon," insisted the new-comer pleasantly. He folded the paper
once and replaced it on the table. One hand lingered for just the
fraction of a moment above Mr. Grimm's coffee-cup.
Aroused by the remark, Mr. Grimm glanced around.
"Oh, thank you," he apologized hastily. "I didn't hear you at first.
Thank you."
The new-comer nodded, smiled and passed on, taking a seat two or three
tables down.
Apparently this trifling courtesy had broken the spell of reverie, for
Mr. Grimm squared around to the table again, drew his coffee-cup toward
him, and dropped in the single lump of sugar. He idly stirred it for a
moment, as his eyes turned again toward the open window, then he lifted
the tiny cup and emptied it.
Again he sat motionless for a long time, and thrice the new-comer, only
a few feet away, glanced at him narrowly. And now, it seemed, a peculiar
drowsiness was overtaking Mr. Grimm. Once he caught himself nodding and
raised his head with a jerk. Then he noticed that the arc lights in the
street were wobbling curiously, and he fell to wondering why that
single flame sparkled at the apex of the capitol dome. Things around him
grew hazy, vague, unreal, and then, as if realizing that something was
the matter with him, he came to his feet.
He took one step forward into the space between the tables, reeled,
attempted to steady himself by holding on to a chair, then everything
grew black about him, and he pitched forward on the floor. His face was
dead white; his fingers moved a little, nervously, weakly, then they
were still.
Several people rose at the sound of the falling body, and the new-comer
hurried forward. His coat sleeve caught the empty demi-tasse, as he
stooped, and swept it to the floor, where it was shattered. The head
waiter and another came, pell-mell, and those diners who had risen came
more slowly.
"What's the matter?" asked the head waiter anxiously.
Already the new-comer was supporting Mr. Grimm on his knee, and
flicking water in his face.
"Nothing serious, I fancy," he answered shortly. "He's subject to these
little attacks."
"What are they? Who is he?"
The stranger tore at Mr. Grimm's collar until it came loose, then he
fell to chafing the still hands.
"He is a Mr. Grimm, a government employee--I know him," he answered
again. "I imagine it's nothing more serious than indigestion."
A little knot had gathered about them, with offers of assistance.
"Waiter, hadn't you better send for a physician?" some one suggested.
"I'm a physician," the stranger put in impatiently. "Have some one call
a cab, and I'll see that he's taken home. It happens that we live in the
same apartment house, just a few blocks from here."
Obedient to the crisply-spoken directions, a cab was called, and five
minutes later Mr. Grimm, still insensible, was lifted into it. The
stranger took a seat beside him, the cabby touched his horse with a
whip, and the vehicle fell into the endless, moving line.
XXI
A SLIP OF PAPER
When the light of returning consciousness finally pierced the black
lethargy that enshrouded him, Mr. Grimm's mind was a chaos of vagrant,
absurd fantasies; then slowly, slowly, realization struggled back to its
own, and he came to know things. First was the knowledge that he was
lying flat on his back, on a couch, it seemed; then, that he was in the
dark--an utter, abject darkness. And finally came an overwhelming sense
of silence.
For a while he lay motionless, with not even the movement of an eye-lash
to indicate consciousness, wrapped in a delicious languor. Gradually
this passed and the feeble flutter of his heart grew into a steady,
rhythmic beat. The keen brain was awakening; he was beginning to
remember. What had happened? He knew only that in some manner a drug had
been administered to him, a bitter dose tasting of opium; that
speechlessly, he had fought against it, that he had risen from the table
in the restaurant, and that he had fallen. All the rest was blank.