listened, the while he turned the situation over in speculative mood.
The waiter had administered the drug, of course, unless--unless it had
been the courteous stranger who had replaced the newspaper on the table!
That thought opened new fields of conjecture. Mr. Grimm had no
recollection of ever having seen him before; and he had paid only the
enforced attention of politeness to him. And why had the drug been
administered? Vaguely, incoherently, Mr. Grimm imagined that in some way
it had to do with the great international plot of war in which Miss
Thorne was so delicate and vital an instrument.
Where was he? Conjecture stopped there. Evidently he was where the
courteous gentleman in the restaurant wanted him to be. A prisoner?
Probably. In danger? Long, careful attention to detail work in the
Secret Service had convinced Mr. Grimm that he was always in danger.
That was one reason--and the best--why he had lain motionless, without
so much as lifting a finger, since that first glimmer of consciousness
had entered his brain. He was probably under scrutiny, even in the
darkness, and for the present it was desirable to accommodate any chance
watcher by remaining apparently unconscious.
And so for a long time he lay, listening. Was there another person in
the room? Mr. Grimm's ears were keenly alive for the inadvertent
shuffling of a foot; or the sound of breathing. Nothing. Even the night
roar of the city was missing; the silence was oppressive. At last he
opened his eyes. A pall of gloom encompassed him--a pall without one
rift of light. His fingers, moving slowly, explored the limits of the
couch whereon he lay.
Confident, at last, that wherever he was, he was unwatched, Mr. Grimm
was on the point of concluding that further inaction was useless, when
his straining ears caught the faint grating of metal against
metal--perhaps the insertion of a key in the lock. His hands grew still;
his eyes closed. And after a moment a door creaked slightly on its
hinges, and a breath of cool air informed Mr. Grimm that that open door,
wherever it was, led to the outside, and freedom.
There was another faint creaking as the door was shut. Mr. Grimm's
nerveless hands closed involuntarily, and his lips were set together
tightly. Was it to be a knife thrust in the dark? If not--then what? He
expected the flare of a match; instead there was a soft tread, and the
rustle of skirts. A woman! Mr. Grimm's caution was all but forgotten in
his surprise. As the steps drew nearer his clenched fingers loosened; he
waited.
Two hands stretched forward in the dark, touched him
simultaneously--one on the face, one on the breast. A singular thrill
shot through him, but there was not the flicker of an eye or the
twitching of a finger. The woman--it _was_ a woman--seemed now to be
bending over him, then he heard her drop on her knees beside him, and
she pressed an inquiring ear to his left side. It was the heart test.
"Thank God!" she breathed softly.
It was only by a masterful effort that Mr. Grimm held himself limp and
inert, for a strange fragrance was enveloping him--a fragrance he well
knew.
The hands were fumbling at his breast again, and there was the sharp
crackle of paper. At first he didn't understand, then he knew that the
woman had pinned a paper to the lapel of his coat. Finally she
straightened up, and took two steps away from him, after which came a
pause. His keenly attuned ears caught her faint breathing, then the
rustle of her skirts as she turned back. She was leaning over him
again--her lips touched his forehead, barely; again there was a quick
rustling of skirts, the door creaked, and--silence, deep, oppressive,
overwhelming silence.
Isabel! Was he dreaming? And then he ceased wondering and fell to
remembering her kiss--light as air--and the softly spoken "Thank God!"
She did care, then! She _had_ understood, that day!
The kiss of a woman beloved is a splendid heart tonic. Mr. Grimm
straightened up suddenly on the couch, himself again. He touched the
slip of paper which she had pinned to his coat to make sure it was not
all a dream, after which he recalled the fact that while he had heard
the door creak before she went out he had not heard it creak afterward.
Therefore, the door was open. She had left it open. Purposely? That was
beside the question at the moment.
And why--how--was she in Washington? Pondering that question, Mr.
Grimm's excellent teeth clicked sharply together and he rose. He knew
the answer. The compact was to be signed--the alliance which would array
the civilized world in arms. He had failed to block that, as he thought.
If Miss Thorne had returned, then Prince Benedetto d'Abruzzi, who held
absolute power to sign the compact for Italy, France and Spain, had also
returned.
Stealthily, feeling his way as he went, Mr. Grimm moved toward the door
leading to freedom, guided by the fresh draft of air. He reached the
door--it was standing open--and a moment later stepped out into the
star-lit night. It was open country here, with a thread of white road
just ahead, and farther along a fringe of shrubbery. Mr. Grimm reached
the road. Far down it, a pin point in the night, a light flickered
through interlacing branches. The tail lamp of an automobile, of course!
Mr. Grimm left the road and skirted a sparse hedge in the direction of
the light. After a moment he heard the engine of an automobile, and saw
a woman--barely discernible--step into the car. As it started forward he
staked everything on one bold move, and won, his reward being a narrow
sitting space in the rear of the car, hidden from its occupants by the
tonneau. One mile, two miles, three miles they charged through the
night, and still he clung on. At last there came relief.
"That's the place, where the lights are--just ahead."
There was no mistaking that voice raised above the clamor of the engine.
The car slackened speed, and Mr. Grimm dropped off and darted behind
some convenient bushes. And the first thing he did there was to light a
match, and read what was written on the slip of paper pinned to his
coat. It was, simply:
"My Dear Mr. Grimm:
"By the time you read this the compact will have been signed, and your
efforts to prevent it, splendid as they were, futile. It is a tribute to
you that it was unanimously agreed that you must be accounted for at
the time of the signing, hence the drugging in the restaurant; it was
only an act of kindness that I should come here to see that all was well
with you, and leave the door open behind me.
"Believe me when I say that you are one man in whom I have never been
disappointed. Accept this as my farewell, for now I assume again the
name and position rightfully mine. And know, too, that I shall always
cherish the belief that you will remember me as
"Your friend,
"ISABEL THORNE.
"P. S. The prince and I left the steamer at Montauk Point, on a
tug-boat."
Mr. Grimm kissed the note twice, then burned it.
XXII
THE COMPACT
A room, low-ceilinged, dim, gloomy, sinister as an inquisition chamber;
a single large table in the center, holding a kerosene lamp, writing
materials and a metal spheroid a shade larger than a one-pound shell;
and around it a semicircle of silent, masked and cowled figures. There
were twelve of them, eleven men and a woman. In the shadows, which grew
denser at the far end of the room, was a squat, globular object, a
massive, smooth-sided, black, threatening thing of iron.
One of the men glanced at his watch--it was just two o'clock--then rose
and took a position beside the table, facing the semicircle. He placed
the timepiece on the table in front of him.
"Gentlemen," he said, and there was the faintest trace of a foreign
accent, "I shall speak English because I know that whatever your
nationality all of you are familiar with that tongue. And now an apology
for the theatric aspect of all this--the masks, the time and place of
meeting, and the rest of it." He paused a moment. "There is only one
person living who knows the name and position of all of you," and by a
sweep of his hand he indicated the motionless figure of the woman. "It
was by her decision that masks are worn, for, while we all know the
details of the Latin compact, there is a bare chance that some one will
not sign, and it is not desirable that the identity of that person be
known to all of us. The reason for the selection of this time and place
is obvious, for an inkling of the proposed signing has reached the
Secret Service. I will add the United States was chosen as the
birthplace of this new epoch in history for several reasons, one being
the proximity to Central and South America; and another the inadequate
police system which enables greater freedom of action."
He stopped and drew from his pocket a folded parchment. He tapped the
tips of his fingers with it from time to time as he talked.
"The Latin compact, gentlemen, is not the dream, of a night, nor of a
decade. As long as fifty years ago it was suggested, and whatever
differences the Latin countries of the world have had among themselves,
they have always realized that ultimately they must stand together
against--against the other nations of the world. This idea germinated
into action three years ago, and since that time agents have covered the
world in its interest. This meeting is the fruition of all that work,
and this," he held the parchment aloft, "is the instrument that will
unite us. Never has a diplomatic secret been kept as this has been kept;
never has a greater reprisal been planned. It means, gentlemen, the
domination of the world--socially, spiritually, commercially and
artistically; it means that England and the United States, whose sphere
of influence has extended around the globe, will be beaten back, that
the flag of the Latin countries will wave again over lost possessions.
It means all of that, and more."
His voice had risen as he talked until it had grown vibrant with
enthusiasm; and his hands pointed his remarks with quick, sharp
gestures.
"All this," he went on, "was never possible until three years ago, when
the navies of the world were given over into the hands of one nation--my
country. Five years ago a fellow-countryman of mine happened to be
present at an electrical exhibition in New York City, and there he
witnessed an interesting experiment--practical demonstration of the fact
that a submarine mine may be exploded by the use of the Marconi wireless
system. He was a practical electrician himself, and the idea lingered in
his mind. For two years he experimented, and finally this resulted." He
picked up the metal spheroid and held it out for their inspection. "As
it stands it is absolutely perfect and gives a world's supremacy to the
Latin countries because it places all the navies of the world at our
mercy. It is a variation of the well-known percussion cap or fuse by
which mines and torpedoes are exploded.
"The theory of it is simple, as are the theories of all great
inventions; the secret of its construction is known only to its
inventor--a man of whom you never heard. It is merely that the mechanism
of the cap is so delicate that the Marconi wireless waves--and _only_
those--will fire the cap. In other words, this cap is tuned, if I may
use the word, to a certain number of vibrations and half-vibrations; a
wireless instrument of high power, with a modifying addition which the
inventor has added, has only to be set in motion to discharge it at any
distance up to twenty-five miles. High power wireless waves recognize no
obstacle, so the explosion of a submarine mine is as easily brought
about as would be the explosion of a mine on dry land. You will readily
see its value as a protective agency for our seaports."
He replaced the spheroid on the table.
"But its chief value is not in that," he resumed. "Its chief value to
the Latin compact, gentlemen, is that the United States and England are
now concluding negotiations, unknown to each other, by which _they_ will
protect _their_ seaports by means of mines primed with this cap. The
tuning of the caps which we will use is known only to us; _the tuning of
the caps which they will use is also known to us_! The addition to the
wireless apparatus which they will use is such that they _can not_, even
by accident, explode a mine guarding our seaports; but, on the other
hand, the addition to the wireless apparatus which _we_ will use permits
of the extreme high charge which will explode their mines. To make it
clearer, we could send a navy against such a city as New York or
Liverpool, and explode every mine in front of us as we went; and
meanwhile our mines are impervious.
"Another word, and I have finished. Five gentlemen, whom I imagine are
present now, have witnessed a test of this cap, by direct command of
their home governments. For the benefit of the others of you a simple
test has been arranged for to-night. This cap on the table is charged;
its inventor is at his wireless instrument, fifteen miles away. At three
o'clock he will turn on the current that will explode it." Four of the
eleven men looked at their watches. "It is now seventeen minutes past
two. I am instructed, for the purposes of the test, to place this cap
anywhere you may select--in this house or outside of it, in a box,
sealed, or under water. The purpose is merely to demonstrate its
efficacy; to prove to your complete satisfaction that it can be exploded
under practically any conditions."
His entire manner underwent a change; he drew a chair up to the table,
and stood for an instant with his hand resting on the back.
"The compact is written in three languages--English, French and
Italian. I shall ask you to sign, after reading either or all, precisely
as the directions you have received from your home government instruct.
On behalf of the three greatest Latin countries, as special envoy of
each, I will sign first."
He dropped into the chair, signed each of the three parchment pages
three times, then rose and offered the pen to the cowled figure at one
end of the semicircle. The man came forward, read the English
transcript, studied the three signatures already there with a certain
air of surprise, then signed. The second man signed, the third man, and
the fourth.
The fifth had just risen to go forward when the door opened silently and
Mr. Grimm entered. Without a glance either to right or left, he went
straight toward the table, and extended a hand to take the compact.
For an instant there had come amazement, a dumb astonishment, at the
intrusion. It passed, and the hand of the man who had done the talking
darted out, seized the compact, and held it behind him.
"If you will be good enough to give that to me, your Highness,"
suggested Mr. Grimm quietly.
For half a minute the masked man stared straight into the listless eyes
of the intruder, and then:
"Mr. Grimm, you are in very grave danger."
"That is beside the question," was the reply. "Be good enough to give me
that document."
He backed away as he spoke, kicked the door closed with one heel, then
leaned against it, facing them.
"Or better yet," he went on after a moment, "burn it. There is a lamp in
front of you." He paused for an answer. "It would be absurd of me to
attempt to take it by force," he added.
XXIII
THE PERCUSSION CAP
There was a long, tense silence. The cowled figures had risen ominously;
Miss Thorne paled behind her mask, and her fingers gripped her palms
fiercely, still she sat motionless. Prince d'Abruzzi broke the silence.
He seemed perfectly calm and self-possessed.
"How did you get in?" he demanded.
"Throttled your guard at the front door, took him down cellar and locked
him in the coal-bin," replied Mr. Grimm tersely. "I am waiting for you
to burn it."
"And how did you escape from--from the other place?"
Mr. Grimm shrugged his shoulders.
"The lamp is in front of you," he said.
"And find your way here?" the prince pursued.
Again Mr. Grimm shrugged his shoulders. For an instant longer the prince
gazed straight into his inscrutable face, then turned accusing eyes on
the masked figures about him.
"Is there a traitor?" he demanded suddenly. His gaze settled on Miss
Thorne and lingered there.
"I can relieve your mind on that point--there is not," Mr. Grimm assured
him. "Just a final word, your Highness, if you will permit me. I have
heard everything that has been said here for the last fifteen minutes.
The details of your percussion cap are interesting. I shall lay them
before my government and my government may take it upon itself to lay
them before the British government. You yourself said a few minutes ago
that this compact was not possible before this cap was invented and
perfected. It isn't possible the minute my government is warned against
its use. That will be my first duty."
"You are giving some very excellent reasons, Mr. Grimm," was the
deliberate reply, "why you should not be permitted to leave this room
alive."
"Further," Mr. Grimm resumed in the same tone, "I have been ordered to
prevent the signing of that compact, at least in this country. It seems
that I am barely in time. If it is signed--and it will be useless now on
your own statement unless you murder me--every man who signs it will
have to reckon with the highest power of this country. Will you destroy
it? I don't want to know what countries already stand committed by the
signatures there."
"I will not," was the steady response. And then, after a little: "Mr.
Grimm, the inventor of this little cap, insignificant as it seems, will
receive millions for it. Your silence would be worth--just how much?"
Mr. Grimm's face turned red, then white again.
"Which would you prefer? An independence by virtue of a great fortune,
or--or the other thing?"
Suddenly Miss Thorne tore the mask from her face and came forward. Her
cheeks were scarlet, and anger flamed in the blue-gray eyes.
"Mr. Grimm has no price--I happen to know that," she declared hotly.
"Neither money nor a consideration for his own personal safety will make
him turn traitor." She stared coldly into the prince's eyes. "And we are
not assassins here," she added.
"Miss Thorne has stated the matter fairly, I believe, your Highness,"
and Mr. Grimm permitted his eyes to linger a moment on the flushed face
of this woman who, in a way, was defending him. "But there is only one
thing to do, Miss Thorne." He was talking to her now. "There is no
middle course. It is a problem that has only one possible answer--the
destruction of that document, and the departure of you, and you, your
Highness, for Italy under my personal care all the way. I imagined this
matter had ended that day on the steamer; it _will_ end here, now,
to-night."
The prince glanced again at his watch, then thoughtfully weighed the
percussion cap in his hand, after which, with a curious laugh, he walked
over to the squat iron globe in an opposite corner of the room. He bent
over it half a minute, then straightened up.
"That cap, Mr. Grimm, has one disadvantage," he remarked casually. "When
it is attached to a mine or torpedo it can not be disconnected without
firing it. It is attached." He turned to the others. "It is needless to
discuss the matter further just now. If you will follow me? We will
leave Mr. Grimm here."
With a strange little cry, neither anger nor anguish, yet oddly
partaking of the quality of each, Isabel went quickly to the prince.
"How dare you do such a thing?" she demanded fiercely. "It is murder."
"This is not a time, Miss Thorne, for your interference," replied the
prince coldly. "It has all passed beyond the point where the feelings
of any one person, even the feelings of the woman who has engineered the
compact, can be considered. A single life can not be permitted to stand
in the way of the consummation of this world project. Mr. Grimm alive
means the compact would be useless, if not impossible; Mr. Grimm dead
means the fruition of all our plans and hopes. You have done your duty
and you have done it well; but now your authority ends, and I, the
special envoy of--"
"Just a moment, please," Mr. Grimm interrupted courteously. "As I
understand it, your Highness, the mine there in the corner is charged?"
"Yes. It just happened to be here for purposes of experiment."
"The cap is attached?"
"Quite right." The prince laughed.
"And at three o'clock, by your watch, the mine will be fired by a
wireless operator fifteen miles from here?"
"Something like that; yes, very much like that," assented the prince.
"Thank you. I merely wanted to understand it." Mr. Grimm pulled a chair
up against the door and sat down, crossing his legs. On his knees rested
the barrel of a revolver, glittering, fascinating, in the semi-darkness.
"Now, gentlemen," and he glanced at his watch, "it's twenty-one minutes
of three o'clock. At three that mine will explode. We will all be in the
room when it happens, unless his Highness sees fit to destroy the
compact."
Eyes sought eyes, and the prince removed his mask with a sudden gesture.
His face was bloodless.
"If any man," and Mr. Grimm gave Miss Thorne a quick glance, "I should
say, _any person_, attempts to leave this room I _know_ he will die; and
there's a bare chance that the percussion cap will fail to work. I can
account for six of you, if there is a rush."
"But, man, if that mine explodes we shall all be killed--blown to
pieces!" burst from one of the cowled figures.
"If the percussion cap works," supplemented Mr. Grimm.
Mingled emotions struggled in the flushed face of Isabel as she studied
Mr. Grimm's impassive countenance.
"I have never disappointed you yet, Miss Thorne," he remarked as if it
were an explanation. "I shall not now."
She turned to the prince.
"Your Highness, I think it needless to argue further," she said. "We
have no choice in the matter; there is only one course--destroy the
compact."
"No!" was the curt answer.
"I believe I know Mr. Grimm better than you do," she argued. "You think
he will weaken; I know he will not. I am not arguing for him, nor for
myself; I am arguing against the frightful loss that will come here in
this room if the compact is not destroyed."
[Illustration: "You think he will weaken; I know he will not."]
"It's absurd to let one man stand in the way," declared the prince
angrily.
"It might not be an impertinent question, your Highness," commented Mr.
Grimm, "for me to ask how you are going to _prevent_ one man standing in
the way?"
A quick change came over Miss Thorne's face. The eyes hardened, the lips
were set, and lines Mr. Grimm had never seen appeared about the mouth.
Here, in a flash, the cloak of dissimulation was cast aside, and the
woman stood forth, this keen, brilliant, determined woman who did
things.
"The compact will be destroyed," she said.
"No," declared the prince.
"It _must_ be destroyed."
"_Must? Must?_ Do you say _must to me?_"
"Yes, _must_," she repeated steadily.
"And by what authority, please, do--"
"By that authority!" She drew a tiny, filigreed gold box from her bosom
and cast it upon the table; the prince stared at it. "In the name of
your sovereign--_must_!" she said again.
The prince turned away and began pacing, back and forth across the room
with the parchment crumpled in his hand. For a minute or more Isabel
stood watching him.
"Thirteen minutes!" Mr. Grimm announced coldly.
And now broke out an excited chatter, a babel of French, English,
Italian, Spanish; those masked and cowled ones who had held silence for
so long all began talking at once. One of them snatched at the crumpled
compact in the prince's hand, while all crowded around him arguing. Mr.
Grimm sat perfectly still with the revolver barrel resting on his knees.
"Eleven minutes!" he announced again.
Suddenly the prince turned violently on Miss Thorne with rage-distorted
face.
"Do you know what it means to you if I do as you say?" he demanded
savagely. "It means you will be branded as traitor, that your name,
your property--"
"If you will pardon me, your Highness," she interrupted, "the power that
I have used was given to me to use; I have used it. It is a matter to be
settled between me and my government, and as far as it affects my person
is of no consequence now. You will destroy the compact."
"Nine minutes!" said Mr. Grimm monotonously.
Again the babel broke out.
"Do we understand that you want to see the compact?" one of the cowled
men asked suddenly of Mr. Grimm as he turned.
"No, I don't want to see it. I'd prefer not to see it."
With hatred blazing in his eyes the prince made his way toward the lamp,
holding a parchment toward the blaze.