A MIDNIGHT RAID
I could see at once that neither of the two men who confronted me had
really believed that the room into which their victim had escaped was
already occupied by any other person than the one of whom they were in
pursuit. Their expression of surprise was altogether genuine. I myself
was, perhaps, equally taken aback. Nothing in their appearance suggested
in the least the midnight assassin! I turned towards the one who had
leaned the door up against the wall, and addressed him.
"May I ask to what I am indebted for the pleasure of this unexpected
visit?" I inquired.
The man took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. He was short and
stout, with a bushy brown beard, and eyes which blinked at me in
amazement from behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. He wore a grey tweed
travelling suit, and brown boots. He had exactly the air of a prosperous
middle-class tradesman from the provinces.
"I am afraid, sir," he said, "that we have made a mistake--in which case
we shall owe you a thousand apologies. We are in search of a friend whom
we certainly believed that we had seen enter your room."
Now all the time he was talking his eyes were never still. Every inch of
my room that was visible they ransacked. His companion, too, was engaged
in the same task. There were no traces of my visitor to be seen.
"You can make your apologies and explanations to the management in the
morning," I answered grimly "Pardon me!"
I held out my arm across the threshold, and for the first time looked at
the other man who had been on the point of entering. He was slight and
somewhat sallow, with very high forehead and small deep-set eyes. He was
dressed in ordinary evening clothes, the details of which, however,
betrayed his status. He wore a heavy gold chain, a dinner coat, and a
made-up white tie, with the ends tucked in under a roll collar. He
appeared to be objectionable, but far from dangerous.
"You are still a trifle over-anxious respecting the interior of my room!"
I remarked, pushing him gently back.
He spoke to me for the first time. He spoke slowly and formally, and his
accent struck me as being a little foreign.
"Sir," he said, "you may not be aware that the person of whom we are in
search is a dangerous, an exceedingly dangerous character. If he should
be concealed in your room the consequences to yourself might be most
serious."
"Thank you," I said, "I am quite capable of taking care of myself."
Both men were standing as close to me as I was disposed to permit. I
fancied that they were looking me over, as though to make an estimate of
the possible amount of resistance I might be able to offer should they be
disposed to make a rush. The odds, if any, must have seemed to them
somewhat in my favor, for I was taller by head and shoulders than either
of them, and a life-long devotion to athletics had broadened my
shoulders, and given me strength beyond the average. Besides, there was
the revolver in my right hand, which I took occasion now to display. The
shorter of the two men again addressed me.
"My dear sir," he said softly, "it is necessary that you should not
misapprehend the situation. The person of whom we are in search is one
whom we are pledged to find. We have no quarrel with you! Why embroil
yourself in an affair with which you have no concern?"
"I am not seeking to do so," I answered. "It is you and your friend who
are the aggressors. You have forced an entrance into my room in a most
unwarrantable fashion. Your missing friend is nothing to me. I desire to
be left in peace."
Even as I spoke the words, I knew that there was to be no peace for me
that night, for, stealthy though their movements were, I saw something
glisten in the right hands of both of them. The odds now assumed a
somewhat different appearance. I drew back a pace, and stood prepared for
what might happen. My _vis-à-vis_ in the gold-rimmed spectacles addressed
me again.
"Sir," he said, "we will not bandy words any longer. It is better that we
understand one another. There is a man hidden in your room whom we mean
to have. You will understand that we are serious, when I tell you that we
have engaged every room in this corridor, and the wires of your telephone
are cut. If you will permit us to come in and find him, I promise that
nothing shall happen in your room, that you shall not be compromised in
any way. If you refuse, I must warn you that you will become involved in
a matter more serious than you have any idea of."
For answer, I discharged my revolver twice at the ceiling, hoping to
arouse some one, either guests or servants, and fired again at the
shoulder of the man whose leap towards me was like the spring of a
wild-cat. Both rooms were suddenly plunged into darkness, the elder of
the two men, stepping back for a moment, had turned out the electric
lights. For a short space of time everything was chaos. My immediate
assailant I flung away from me with ease; his companion, who tried to
rush past me in the darkness, I struck with a random blow on the side of
the head, so that he staggered back with a groan. I knew very well that
neither of them had passed me, and yet I fancied, as I paused to take
breath for a moment, that I heard stealthy footsteps behind, in the room
which I had been defending. I called again for help, and groped about on
the wall for the electric light switches. The footsteps ceased, a sudden
cry rang out from somewhere behind the bed-curtains, a cry so full of
horror, that I felt the blood run cold in my veins, and the sweat break
out upon my forehead. I sought desperately for the little brass knobs of
the switches, listening all the while for those footsteps. I heard
nothing save a low, sickening groan, which followed upon the cry, but I
felt, a moment later, the hot breath of a human being upon my neck. I
sprang aside, barely in time to escape a blow obviously aimed at me with
some weapon or other, which cut through the air with the soft, nervous
swish of an elastic life-preserver. I knew that some one who sought my
life was within a few feet of me, striving to make sure before the second
blow was aimed. In my stockinged feet I crept along by the wall. I could
hear no sound of movement anywhere near me, and yet I knew quite well
that my hidden assailant was close at hand. Just then, I heard at last
what I had been listening for so long and so eagerly, footsteps and a
voice in the corridor outside. Somebody sprang past me in the darkness,
and, for a second, amazement kept me motionless. The thing was
impossible, or I could have sworn that my feet were brushed by the skirts
of a woman's gown, and that a whiff of perfume--it was like the scent of
dying violets--floated past me. Then the door of my room, from which I
had withdrawn the bolt, was flung suddenly open, and almost
simultaneously my fingers touched the knob of the electric light
fittings. The whole place was flooded with light. I looked around, half
dazed, but eager to see what had become of my assailants. Both rooms were
empty, or apparently so. There was no sign or evidence of any other
person there save myself. On the threshold of my own apartment was
standing the night porter.
"Have you let them go by?" I called out. "Did you see them in the
corridor?"
"Who, sir?" the porter asked stolidly.
"Two men who forced their way into my room--look at the door. One was
short and stout and wore glasses, the other was taller and thin. They
were here a few seconds ago. Unless they passed you, they are in one of
the rooms now."
The man came inside, and looked around him.
"I can't see any one, sir! There wasn't a soul about outside."
"Then we had better look for them!" I exclaimed. "Be careful, for they
are armed."
There was no one in the adjoining room. We had searched it thoroughly
before I suddenly remembered the visitor who had been the innocent cause
of these exciting moments.
"By Jove!" I exclaimed, "there's a wounded man by the side of my bed! I
quite forgot him, I was so anxious to catch these blackguards."
The porter looked at me with distinct suspicion.
"A wounded man, sir?" he remarked. "Where?"
"On the other side of the bed," I answered. "It's the man all this row
was about."
I hurried round to where I had left my terrified visitor hiding behind
the bed-curtain. There was no one there. We looked under the bed, even in
the wardrobes. It was obvious, when we had finished our search, that not
a soul was in either of the rooms except our two selves. The porter
looked at me, and I looked at the porter.
"It's a marvellous thing!" I declared.
"It is," the porter agreed.
"You can see for yourself that that door has been battered in," I
remarked, pointing to it.
The fellow smiled in such a manner, that I should have liked to have
kicked him.
"I can see that it has been battered in," he said. "Oh! yes! I can see
that!"
"You perhaps don't believe my story?" I asked calmly.
"It isn't my place to believe or disbelieve it," he answered. "I
certainly didn't meet any one outside--much less three people. I shall
make my report to the manager in the morning, sir! Good night."
So I was left alone, and, extraordinary as it may seem, I was asleep in
less than half an hour.