Eagerly I strode out after her.
We went a short distance along the road to the left, then turned again
to the left and halted before a large white house. Up two flights of
stairs she led me, along a short corridor, and through two rooms. She
opened the door at the further end of the second room, and then motioned
to me to enter.
Seated at a table, playing cards, were Paulton, Violet de Coudron, Vera
Thorold and the Baronne. Violet and Vera were in evening gowns--Vera in
turquoise blue. The sight of the Baronne sitting there, alive and
uninjured, so astounded me that I remained speechless. Paulton sprang
fiercely to his feet.
"Who brought you up here?" he exclaimed furiously. "Who?"
The door had remained open. A ripple of laughter behind me made me cast
a hurried glance that way, and I saw Judith convulsed with amusement.
She recovered her composure in a few moments, and came in.
"I have carried out my threat," she said in French quickly, addressing
Paulton. "You brought it entirely upon yourself by your niggardliness.
Mr. Ashton is generous--and a gentilhomme."
Paulton clenched his fist.
"Yes," the French girl went on, looking at him fearlessly, "you are
quite right to restrain yourself. It would be a bad night's work if a
tragedy were to happen _here_. At the chateau it was different. You
had it your own way there--up to a point."
The man became blasphemous, and I saw Vera wince. Her eyes were set
upon mine, in mute appeal.
The truth flashed in upon me. Paulton ran this private gaming
establishment. The Baronne presumably was his partner. Judith was an
accomplice. But the two girls? What part did they play? It was
horrible finding Vera here, yet my faith in her never wavered. I knew
she must be there against her will, that eventually she would explain
all. And seeing what I had seen of Violet, I felt equally sure that
circumstances which she too could not prevent were responsible for her
presence.
I suppose most men who self-complacently term themselves "men of the
world," would have laughed outright at what they would have called my
"blind belief in innocence," had the circumstances been related to them.
For here were two young girls mixing with the lost souls of Monte
Carlo, and apparently enjoying themselves. On the face of it, my
confidence seemed quixotic, I admit, but there are times when I trust my
instinct rather than even circumstantial evidence. And up to now my
instinct has generally proved correct.
This was no time for deliberate thought, however. I knew I must act
quickly, and for once I was able to come to a decision with remarkable
promptitude. Obviously Paulton and the Baronne were there in hiding.
They knew they were liable at any moment to be arrested. And, thanks to
Judith, I had discovered their place of concealment.
"You know there is a warrant out for the arrest of you both," I said,
facing them fearlessly. "I can at once inform the police of your
whereabouts--or I can say nothing. It is for you to decide which I
shall do."
The Baronne looked at me, as I thought, imploringly.
"If Vera Thorold comes away with me at once, and you undertake never
again to molest her, your secret will remain safe, so far as I am
concerned. If you refuse to let her come, then you will be arrested at
once."
The tables were, indeed, strangely turned. A few days previously these
two adventurers had held me at their mercy, and Faulkner too. Now I
could dictate to them what terms I chose.
I saw a look of dismay enter Violet de Coudron's eyes, and I guessed the
reason of it. She and Vera had become close friends, and now Vera was
to go from her. It seemed dreadful to leave a young, beautiful, refined
girl like Violet in the control of these ghouls, yet I could not suggest
their surrendering her too, for was she not the Baronne's niece? And
was the Baronne actually a Baronne--or was she merely an adventuress? I
had looked up her name and family in the "Almanack de Gotha," and she
seemed to be all right, but still--
Then an idea came to me. I would, with Vera's help, and Faulkner's, try
to steal the girl away if she should express a wish to leave those
unhealthy and unholy surroundings. It would be almost like repaying
Paulton and the Baronne in their own coin. These and other thoughts
sped through my mind with great rapidity.
"Well," I said quickly, addressing Paulton again, "what is your answer?
Am I to betray your whereabouts, or not?"
He still hesitated, still loth to decide. Then suddenly he exclaimed
abruptly--
"Take her. I shall be even with you soon, never fear. I shall be even
with you in a way you don't expect."
I smiled, thinking his words were but a hollow taunt. Later, however, I
also realised to the full that his had been no empty boast.
The two girls left the room, and both returned wearing hats and sealskin
coats over their evening gowns. Then, linking my arm in that of my
beloved, we descended the stairs together.
At last she was saved from that scoundrelly gang who seemed to hold her
so completely in their clutches, she was still mine--mine!
At Judith's suggestion we walked back to where the ball was in progress.
As a matter-of-fact I was undecided how next to act. Besides, I wanted
to see Faulkner, who was awaiting me.
So we went back, and seated with Vera and Judith, I had a long chat with
the latter, about many things. She told me much that interested me.
Paulton and the Baronne ran this establishment, as I had guessed, and
often made it their headquarters. They had several assumed names. They
had run similar secret gaming-houses in Paris, Ostend, Aix and
elsewhere. In this particular house they lived in a big, well-furnished
flat overlooking the harbour of Monaco. Vera and Violet had each a
bedroom, and shared a sitting-room. Since they had met for the first
time, some weeks previously, they had become great friends--in fact
almost inseparable. Both had been staying at the Chateau d'Uzerche when
the fire had broken out, and she, Judith, had been there too. It had
been Vera's voice we had heard calling for help before we suspected the
alarming truth. She had been overcome by smoke in her own room--it was
just before that she had called for help--and almost stifled. No lives
had been lost. There had been only five servants at D'Uzerche that
night, and they had all escaped. The Baronne had, it seemed, escaped by
turning sharp to the right into a lumber-room, almost directly she had
rushed out of the room. From the lumber-room she had scrambled through
a skylight on to the roof, entered another skylight immediately above a
rusty iron fire staircase, the existence of which everybody else had
forgotten, and so made her way out of the building in safety.