CHAPTER XV

AT THE AMERICAN EMBASSY

As the taxicab dashed around a corner Dave raised his cap.

"Well, this must be our destination," he announced. "I've just saluted

Old Glory as it flutters over the building."

The taxicab came to a stop before a handsome building.

On each side of the posts of the gateway stood a brass shield on which

was the inscription:

"Embassy of the United States of America."

Very gravely Dan and Runkle followed Dave, each raising his hat to the

Flag as soon as his feet touched the sidewalk.

"There's a carriage entrance below," said Dave, "but we'll take the

plain way and walk in."

Paying and dismissing the taxicab driver, Dave led the way to the

entrance.

"A naval party to see the Ambassador, at his convenience, on

business," Dave announced to the attendant at the door.

They were shown to an anteroom near the door, where they were soon

joined by a Mr. Lupton, who introduced himself as Second Secretary to

the Embassy.

"The ambassador, Mr. Caine, will not be here before nine o'clock,"

announced Mr. Lupton. "I know that you are expected. You have not

breakfasted?"

"No," Dave confessed.

"Then I will ask you to let me be host. Before I lead the way I will

ring for some one to see that your sailorman is well taken care of."

Five minutes later Darrin and Dalzell were seated at a small breakfast

table with Mr. Lupton.

"Just before reaching here," began Dave, "it occurred to Mr. Dalzell

and myself that we have, beyond our card-cases, no means of

identification. Can you tell us how Mr. Caine will be sure that he is

talking with the right persons?"

"I believe that will be arranged all right," smiled Mr. Lupton. "I,

too, have taken you gentlemen on trust, but presently, I believe, we

are going to be satisfied."

Two minutes later there stalked into the room a tall, handsome young

man whose navy uniform set off his good figure to great advantage.

"Jetson?" exclaimed Dave, rising.

"The same," smiled the newcomer, advancing and holding out his hand.

He and Dave shook hands heartily, after which Dan came in for a

similar greeting.

Readers of the Annapolis series will recall Jetson as being a fellow

member of the Brigade of Midshipmen with Darrin and Dalzell at the U. S.

Naval Academy. At one time, there, Dave and Jetson had not been

good friends, but Dave had, at the very great risk of his own life,

saved Jetson from drowning. Now, the two young officers were on

excellent terms.

"I understand, now, what was darkness to me before," murmured Dave,

after Jetson had seated himself at table. "Admiral Timworth knew that

you were here, Jetson, and able to identify us."

"I have been here for three months," explained Jetson, smiling, "doing

some work to assist the naval attache of this Embassy, Commander

Tupper. I have had three months of the hardest work in this old

capital, but now, confound it, my work here has ended and I'm ordered

to join my ship. The bridge and the quarter-deck are places of boredom

to a fellow who has seen what I've seen here. Why, I've even made two

trips up to the front--one of them to Verdun."

"Lucky dog!" cried Danny Grin, with feeling. "So you've seen some of

the big fighting!"

"It may be well to state that I know fully the business on which you

are ordered here," Jetson continued, "so you may mention it freely

before me if you are so inclined."

"Then can you tell me," Dave asked, "if it is known how our enemies

propose to sink a British warship and make it appear to be the work of

someone in the American Navy?"

"I cannot," Jetson replied. "In fact, it was only on receipt of a

wireless from near Monte Carlo that the Ambassador had any knowledge

that the international plotters intended to attempt the destruction of

a British warship as a means for creating bad feeling between the two

countries. The whole plot seems foolishly improbable to me."

"It doesn't seem so to me, any longer," rejoined Dave.

"Then you must know some thing that I haven't heard about," murmured

Jetson curiously.

"Mr. Darrin," broke in Mr. Lupton, "I will be the Ambassador's

authority for you to speak as freely of the matter as you choose."

Dave and Dan thereupon told all that had befallen them at Monte Carlo

and at Naples.

"But still," Jetson broke in perplexedly, "how is the sinking of a

British warship to be brought about with safety to the plotters, and

how is the crime to be laid at the door of the American Navy?"

"I wish to speak to the Ambassador on that point before I mention it

to any one else," Dave answered.

"Have you told Dalzell?" pressed Jetson.

"I have not."

"He certainly hasn't," complained Danny Grin sadly. "Dave always tells

me after he has told every one else."

"Danny boy," Dave rebuked him, "where do you hope to go after you

die?"

"Paris," Dalzell answered promptly.

Breakfast lasted until word came that the Ambassador was ready to

receive the two young officers from the flagship of the Mediterranean

Fleet. Then Jetson left his friends.

Mr. Caine, to whom Mr. Lupton presently introduced the ensigns, was a

man in his fifties, rather bald, and with a decided stoop in his

shoulders. At home he was a manufacturer of barbed wire, and his

business, as Danny later suggested, had perhaps helped to give him

some of his keenness and sharpness. He was slenderly fashioned, and

reminded one, at first, of a professor in a minor college.

It was when the Ambassador transacted business that some of his

sterling qualities came out. He was recognized as being one of the

cleverest and ablest of American diplomats.

"I am glad to meet you, gentlemen," said the Ambassador, shaking

hands with Dave and Dan and then motioning them to seats, which an

attendant placed for them. "Mr. Lupton, you have doubtless had

Jetson's assurance that these young men are the persons they claim to

be?"

"Yes, sir," Lupton rejoined.

"Then tell me all you can of this matter," urged Mr. Caine.

At a look from Second Secretary Lupton, the attendant withdrew from

the room. Dave and Dan were soon deep in the narration of events in

which they participated at Monte Carlo and at Naples.

"I know the young Comte of Surigny," remarked Mr. Caine, "and I am

deeply disappointed to learn that he is among our foes, and in such a

mean capacity as the one in which he must be employed. The young man

comes from one of the most ancient families in France, though he has

never been well-to-do, for his ancestors attended to the insuring of

his poverty. The gambling streak has run through several generations

of the family."

Then Dave and Dan continued with their story, Ambassador Caine paying

close attention to all they said.

"Gortchky is expected in Paris soon," announced the Ambassador

presently.

"Is he, sir?" Darrin asked quickly. "Would it be indiscreet for me to

ask if you know why he is coming here?"

"I have nothing more definite than suspicion," replied Mr. Caine.

"Paris, which has one of the best detective systems of the world, is

also noted as being the principal headquarters for conspiracies

against governments. Not only do the anarchists and nihilists look

upon Paris as their Mecca; but other scoundrels working out nefarious

plans for wicked governments also meet here to lay their dastardly

plots. Gortchky may be coming here to secure new agents to take the

place of those already known to the Americans who are watching him and

his men; or he may be coming here to hold a conference with the men

higher up, who are directing his scoundrelly work against the peace of

England and America."

"I take it, sir, that your secret service men will make every effort

to find out what Gortchky does in Paris, and for what real purpose he

is here, and--"

Here Ensign Dave Darrin broke off abruptly, coloring deeply.

"I beg your pardon, sir," he apologized hurriedly. "I had no right to

ask you such a question."

"I have no objection to answering you," said the Ambassador seriously.

"Of course my men will make every effort to find out what Gortchky is

up to here, if he comes to Paris, but I do not know how well they will

succeed. In the game of making trouble between nations Emil Gortchky

is an old and wary bird. It may very likely be that the fellow is

coming to Paris only to try to draw my secret service men into the

worst kind of a wild-goose chase leading only to clues that are worse

than worthless. Gortchky, in other words, may be on his way to Paris

only to draw our attention away from vital moves about to be made

elsewhere by other members of his rascally band. Of course, on due

complaint, we could have him arrested as a spy, and it would go hard

with him here in Paris before a military court. But in that case there

are others in the band of plotters whom we do not know and cannot

locate. So, for very good reasons, we prefer to have Gortchky at

large."

"I would like immensely to see Gortchky in Paris," Dave muttered.

"Perhaps you will have your wish," replied Mr. Caine, with an odd

smile.

Soon after that the interview came to an end, but Dave and Dan

remained in the Embassy building through the day. An attendant was

sent out to get them what they needed in linen and other small items.

Dinner was to be served at seven o'clock, and, as Mr. Caine did not

wish the presence of the young officers from the Mediterranean Fleet

in his house to be known, it was arranged that they should dine in a

smaller room alone with Mr. Lupton.

At six, however, the Ambassador sent in haste for Dave to come to his

office.

"That invitation doesn't seem to include me," remarked Dalzell, rather

ruefully, as he glanced up from a book he was reading in the Embassy

library.

"I'm afraid it doesn't," Dave returned.

Mr. Caine was at his office desk, holding a telegram sheet in his

hand.

"Gortchky is expected in town at 7.30 this evening, Mr. Darrin,"

announced the Ambassador.

"Is there anything that I can do in this matter, sir?" Darrin asked,

after a pause.

"You may go and watch for Gortchky, if you think it possible to do so

without his detecting you," Mr. Caine replied slowly.

"The opportunity would delight me beyond measure," Dave rejoined

quickly. "I suppose I had better take a taxicab that I may be ready to

give effective chase in case Emil Gortchky uses that kind of

transportation."

"I can supply you with a taxicab and with a chauffeur who can be

trusted," replied the Ambassador. "The driver I have in mind is a

highly intelligent fellow who has many times been employed by me. And

you can dismiss him at any point, or retain him as long as you wish.

The bill for the taxicab charges will be sent to the Embassy. How soon

do you wish to have this taxicab here?"

"Perhaps I should have it at once," Dave replied. "Gortchky would know

me in these clothes at first glance, so it would be advantageous if I

arranged to disguise myself. On the streets, as we came here, I

noticed not a few young men wearing baggy suits of clothes of most

un-American cut. They wore also flowing neckties, and some of them had

blue eyeglasses. There are so many of these young men about that one

more would hardly attract Gortchky's attention. That style of dress

would make a good disguise for me."

"The young men you describe are largely students and artists," replied

the Ambassador. "A disguise of that kind would be less conspicuous

than any other."

"Then, sir, if the chauffeur can come here soon, he will have time to

take me to stores where I can get the articles of apparel I need, and

I shall still have plenty of time to meet Emil Gortchky if he reaches

Paris this evening. I will go and tell Mr. Dalzell about Gortchky

being expected to arrive here to-night."

"Tell Mr. Dalzell, if you wish, but you had better not take him with

you," replied Mr. Caine. "Two young men would attract more attention

than one. I am approving of your undertaking this because, to date,

you have learned more about this conspiracy than any three of the

secret service men whom I have at my orders."

Dave hurried away to Dan, who was highly disappointed at being left

out of the evening's work.

"But I have the joke on you, anyway," Danny Grin suddenly declared.

"How so?" asked Dave.

"I shall have my dinner," laughed Dalzell; "you won't have any."

"I could forget my meals for three whole days to stay on the trail of

Gortchky," Dave answered, simply.

Then he hurried out, for the arrival of the taxicab was now announced.

Darrin had a minute's conversation with the chauffeur, after which he

entered the car.

One thing the young ensign quickly discovered, and that was that on

the smooth pavements of Paris, and in the well-ordered traffic,

taxicabs travel at a high rate of speed. Within five minutes he had

been set down at the door of a shop in which he found it possible to

buy every item of his disguise, even to shoes, for Darrin suddenly

remembered that his footwear was plainly American.

In fifteen minutes more Dave Darrin emerged from the store. In one

hand he carried his discarded clothing, packed in a new bag, which he

turned over to the chauffeur for safe keeping. All of his money,

except a small sum, he had left behind at the Embassy.

If any policeman had seen him enter the shop and come out again

presenting so changed an appearance, and if for that reason the

policeman should question him under the impression that Darrin might

be a spy, Dave decided that he would rely upon his chauffeur to

declare that he had been hired at the American Embassy. That statement

would remove suspicion.

"You had better kill time for a few minutes," Dave explained to the

chauffeur, who understood English. "It is not desirable to reach the

railway station earlier than 7.20."

Accordingly the young ensign enjoyed a brief, rapid panoramic view of

a considerable part of Paris. The driver, accustomed to taking

Americans about who were strangers in the city, frequently turned his

head to offer information as to the places or points of interest that

they were passing.

"It's a shame that Danny boy isn't here to enjoy all this," Dave told

himself. "Even this way of seeing Paris would be a great treat to

him."

Almost to the second of 7.20 the taxicab drew up as one of a long line

of similar vehicles under the bright lights of the railway station.

Alighting, Ensign Darrin, feeling rather well concealed in his

disguise, and looking out through his blue-lensed eyeglasses, strolled

about, careful not to saunter into the most brilliantly lighted spots.

Presently he heard a train enter the station. A thin stream of

passengers filtered out. Dave promptly shifted his position and

watched the arrivals, who later came out in a more compact throng.

And there was Emil Gortchky, at last, with no more marked hand luggage

than a light cane, which he swung jauntily.

"I hope you don't look my way, my fine bird!" uttered Ensign Darrin

under his breath. "But if you do, your observation won't do you much

good."

A hand beckoned from a taxicab. Emil Gortchky, who had been on the

lookout, sauntered over to the vehicle and clasped the hand of M. le

Comte de Surigny.

"Surigny, the ungrateful!" uttered Dave disgustedly to himself. "I

induced you to spare your own worthless life, and then when you found

life sweet once more, you turned against me! I hope you did not notice

me as you sat in that cab."

By this time Dave was at the side step of his own taxicab. A few words

to the chauffeur, and he entered.

Surigny's cab drew out of the line, gliding away. The one in which

Dave sat gave chase at a cautious distance.

Soon the speed of the leading cab increased, and the pursuing

one followed at the same speed. After a considerable run both

cabs turned into the broad, well-lighted Boulevard Haussman.

For some blocks both cabs ran along. Then the one ahead turned

in before an imposing-looking building with a gleaming white

marble front.

"The Grand Prix Club," explained Dave's chauffeur, glancing back as he

stopped on the other side of the boulevard some distance to the rear.

It was the Count of Surigny who left the cab, which then started

forward.

"Is there gambling going on in that club?" asked Darrin, as his man

started the car forward again.

"Naturally," replied the chauffeur, shrugging his shoulders.

"It is easy to understand, then," Dave muttered to himself. "Poor

Surigny is no longer his own master in anything, for he is a slave to

the gambling craze that ruins so many lives. Gortchky furnishes the

young man with money for gambling--lends it to him, of course, and

thus keeps the Count desperately in his debt. And so the young Count

has to do, when required, the bidding of the scoundrel who gloats over

the helplessness of his dupe. Poor Surigny!"

Into less handsome avenues and streets the taxicabs now turned. Then a

distinctly shabby looking part of Paris was unfolded to the gaze of

the young naval officer.

"The Rue d'Ansin," announced the chauffeur, at last.

"A bad street?" Dave inquired.

"Yes."

"The haunt of criminals?"

"Criminals are seen here," the chauffeur explained, "but their real

lurking places are in some of the alleys, farther along, that lead off

from the Rue d'Ansin. Late at night, monsieur, it is better to ride

through this street than to be afoot on the sidewalk!"

"Is it the part of Paris where one would come to meet or to confer

with desperate criminals?" Dave asked.

"Many of the Apaches live hereabouts," replied the chauffeur, with

another shrug.

Dave had read of these dangerous thugs, the so-called "Apaches,"

native toughs of Paris, who commit many bold robberies on the streets

by night, and even, sometimes, by day, and who seldom hesitate to

kill a victim or a policeman if murder will render their own escape

sure.

To an observer the Apache appears to be equally without fear and

without conscience. The Apache is many degrees more dangerous than his

more cowardly cousin, the "gun-man" of New York.

"I hope you will not have to take to the streets here, Monsieur," said

the chauffeur.

"If I have to do that, I am not afraid to take a chance," Darrin

answered, imitating the Frenchman's shrug with his own broad

shoulders.

Ahead, Gortchky's taxicab was slowing down, and the pursuing vehicle

did the same. Dave peered about to see if some one were waiting to be

taken up by Gortchky, but, instead, Gortchky descended.

"Drive close to the curb on the other side of the street," whispered

Darrin. "Merely slow down so that I may slip to the sidewalk. Then go

ahead, waiting for me around the corner two blocks away."

"One block away would be better, Monsieur," urged the chauffeur.

"Make it two," Dave insisted crisply.

Stepping out on the running board, Dave leaned well forward, thus

making it possible to close the door of his car as it slowed down.

Then, as Dave stepped to the sidewalk, the taxicab moved forward more

rapidly.

Searching in an inner pocket, Emil Gortchky, down the street on the

other side, did not look up, and apparently did not observe the

maneuver on the part of Dave's chauffeur. Dave slipped quickly into a

darkened doorway, from which he could watch the international spy with

little danger of being observed.

Taking out a little packet of papers, and moving toward a street lamp,

Gortchky selected one of the papers, thrusting the rest back into his

pocket. As he did so, one white bit fluttered to the sidewalk.

Reading under the street lamp the paper he had selected, Gortchky put

that particular paper in another pocket. Then he turned abruptly,

plunging into the depths of an alley-like street.

Sauntering slowly across the street, in order not to attract too much

attention from other passers on the badly lighted Rue d'Ansin, Ensign

Darrin, his gaze glued to that piece of paper, soon reached it and

picked it up.

"For that scoundrel to drop this paper, of all others that he had in

his pocket!" gasped Dave Darrin, as, under the street light, he took

in its nature.

Then he paled, for this paper seemed to confirm absolutely the young

ensign's suspicion as to the way in which the British battleship was

to be destroyed.

All in a twinkling Dave's pallor vanished, for he had something else

to think about.

On the alley-like side street a quick step was heard that Darrin

recognized. It was that of Emil Gortchky, hastily returning to find

the paper that he had dropped in the heart of Apache Land!

Dave Darrin on Mediterranean Service; or, With Dan Dalzell on European Duty · 第 15 / 24 章