THE TURN OF THE TIDE.
It was impossible to tell when a Dreyfus agitation would break out in
France during those anxious months. The day following the events just
related, one took place. The courts were in session, and the friends of
Dreyfus sprang a surprise by having a new feature of the case called up,
and an attempt made to reopen the whole affair. Then, in a most amazing
manner, a great array of evidence in favor of the prisoner of Devil’s
Island piled up. It fairly took away the breath of his enemies.
English and American newspapers printed the report that a steamer had
been sent to Devil’s Island, with a strong military guard, for the
purpose of taking Dreyfus off, and bringing him back to France, where he
would have a new trial. These reports were cabled to Paris without
delay. Everybody sought confirmation of them, and then a prominent
French paper came out with the assertion that it was absolutely true,
and that Dreyfus was on his way to France even then!
All Paris seemed to be hushed in waiting for some great thing that must
follow.
Jack Diamond was the first to get hold of the paper that printed the
cabled reports from the English and American papers, and announced
beneath that it was absolutely true that Dreyfus was on his way to
France. Diamond had tried to keep Frank Merriwell in the hotel while the
excitement was going on in the streets, but had not been successful.
Frank had persisted in venturing out to witness “the sport,” although
Jack had warned him that he was taking his life in his hand. Nothing had
happened to Merry, however.
Diamond came rushing into the hotel with the newspaper, and placed it
before Frank, pointing out the report mentioned. Frank read it, and his
face flushed with satisfaction.
“Frank!” warned Jack.
“What is it?”
“The Black Brothers will be desperate now. They will be striking their
final blows. You had better keep still, and lay low.”
“I believe the whole Anti-Dreyfus League will be hunting their holes. I
do not believe the Black Brothers will have much to do but lay low.”
“That’s a queer idea.”
“See if I am not right.”
Frank was elated, and he could talk of nothing else, save the turn of
the tide in favor of Dreyfus. He insisted on going out that night, and
they dined in the open air, beneath the trees, Browning and Rattleton
going along.
The American lads were surprised at the calmness of the people, who had
seemed so wildly excited a short time before. Listening, they heard men
quietly saying, one to another, that Dreyfus was coming back at last.
Some of them said there would be bloodshed the hour he set his feet on
French soil, but they said it quietly, as if it were useless to struggle
against fate.
Several striking-looking men came and took a table near Frank and his
friends. These men talked with more excitement than had any others that
night, but they were not arguing over the fate of Dreyfus. Instead, they
were discussing the disruption of the Anti-Dreyfus League.
“Listen to that, Jack!” breathed Frank. “Those men belong to the
league.”
“They are members of the lower order.”
“That is plain, for they are discussing the doings of the higher order.”
“And they do not seem pleased over it.”
“Not much!”
“It seems that there has been a serious split in the league.”
“Sure thing.”
“And that means—just what, Frank?”
“The moment the league gets out from behind the Black Brothers, the
assassin band hunts its hole. Those creatures will no longer be
dangerous. The league paid them to do its bloody work, and, when the
league ceases to exist, the Brothers will cease to be.”
“You may be right.”
“I’m sure of it! Oh, my dear fellow, things are coming out all right in
France! Justice may sleep for a time, but there comes an hour when she
awakens. That hour has arrived.”
“Well, dow the hickens—I mean, how the dickens is it that you are so
intensely interested in the business, anyway, Frank? You and Jack talk
as if it might be a matter of life or death with you.”
“So it may,” declared Merry.
Browning gave a grunt.
“Huah!” he said. “Don’t talk in riddles. What do you mean, anyhow?”
“That’s right,” urged Rattleton; “what do you mean?”
“That the turn affairs have taken may save my life.”
“Your life?” mumbled the big fellow.
“Your life?” gurgled Harry.
“That’s what I said.”
“And it is gospel truth!” nodded Diamond solemnly.
“Oh, say!” came from Harry; “get down onto the earth, and give it to us
straight! Merry might be stringing us; but when did you start in backing
him up in his practical jokes, Diamond?”
“There is no joke about this. I should say Frank is ready to tell you
about the whole thing. When he does, you’ll drop dead!”
“As much as that?” murmured Browning. “I haven’t made a will.”
“What do you wish to leave?” asked Harry, with a grin.
“My will; it’s all I have to leave, and I want to leave something.”
“Tell us about this business,” urged Rattleton, speaking to Frank. Merry
had decided to do so, and he explained the whole affair in a few
well-chosen words. Their amazement increased as he proceeded. It did not
take them long to see that he was in sober earnest, and they listened
breathlessly. When he had finished, they were indignant.
“And you never told us?” questioned Rattleton resentfully.
“Not a word!” came angrily from Bruce.
“I found out the truth by accident,” said Diamond.
“Is that the proper way to treat your friends, Frank?” asked Bruce
almost sorrowfully.
Merry then explained how he was bound to secrecy as long as the metal
ball was in his possession.
“Yes; but you did not tell after that.”
“I didn’t know but I should be forced to flee from France to save my
life,” said Frank; “and, to be honest, I didn’t want you to know I had
taken to my heels.”
From any other fellow, this might have seemed a reasonable explanation;
but, although it was spoken openly and honestly, it seemed like a
confession of a weakness, and they were looking for nothing of the sort
in him. However, if he really had a weakness, it seemed natural that he
should be the first to discover it, and expose it.
“That’s a pretty slim excuse!” growled the big Yale man. “I think you
have treated us in a thundering shabby manner!”
“I can’t help it, boys. I may have to skip out of France now, but
something tells me that the hour of great danger is past.”
At this moment, a man and a woman sat down at a table just vacated by a
party. The man was tall, dark, scowling; the woman was young, handsome,
scornful. There was something extremely unpleasant about her, even
though she was handsome. As she sat down with her companion, he said
something that caused her to laugh. Frank Merriwell started as if he had
been shot. His hand went out, and fell on Jack Diamond’s arm.
“I have heard that laugh before!” he whispered. “She is Mademoiselle
Nameless!”
“The woman who tried to murder you!” replied the Virginian.
“The same!” nodded Merry.
As the man and woman sat down, several of the men at another table,
those whom the boys had heard talking together, bowed coldly to the
newcomers. One or two of the men stared at them in stony silence.
The man with the woman returned the stare, and his lips curled with
contempt. He was a dangerous-looking fellow, but no more dangerous than
the woman. There was something about her that proclaimed her desperate
and deadly.
Frank had a fine opportunity to study her face. It was not long before
she saw him, and she actually smiled upon him! That smile angered him,
but he held himself in check.
The woman spoke to her escort, and she was heard to say:
“There is the young American who caused so much disturbance, Monsieur
Merriwell. I think there was too much fuss made over him.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” growled the man, looking Frank over.
Then he said something to her, as if he did not wish to be heard by
anybody else, but she immediately gave him away by exclaiming:
“You are sure, Louis—you know the very paper that was in the ball has
reached the courts?”
“Keep still!” he growled. “It’s not necessary to tell everybody of it!”
“Oh, what’s the use! The game is up, anyhow!”
“Yes; and you are advised to keep your mouth closed. You may be arrested
with others.”
“If I am, I may take a fancy to tell some surprising things,” she
laughed. “Just look out that I am not arrested, Louis.”
It was plain both had been drinking, else they would not have spoken so
loudly. Their words created a stir among the men at the next table.
Those men turned, and stared at the young Americans, and then they
jabbered among themselves. All at once, one of them rose, and approached
the table at which the four lads were sitting.
Diamond was on the alert instantly. He watched the man with the eyes of
a hawk, thinking he might do something to injure Frank.
The Frenchman spoke politely.
“I beg a thousand pardons, gentlemen,” he said; “but what I have just
heard leads me to believe one of your number is Monsieur Merriwell. Am I
right?”
“Yes, sir,” bowed Frank. “I am the one.”
The man looked at Frank.
“I have heard you met with a rather unpleasant adventure recently,
Monsieur Merriwell.”
“I have had many of them. To what one do you refer?”
The Frenchman hesitated, and then he seemed to decide to come out
flatly.
“It is said you were captured by some ruffians, who attempted to slay
you, but were prevented by the gendarmes. Is that true?”
“It is.”
“And, further, that the ruffians were seeking to obtain possession of a
paper that had been delivered into your hands by Edmond Laforce, the
Duke of Benoit du Sault. How about that?”
“I know nothing of the paper,” answered Frank truthfully.
“Then you have not turned it over to the courts?”
“No, monsieur. I have never seen it.”
“Nevertheless, in some manner, that paper has reached the courts. It is
said it will clear Dreyfus. Of that I have doubts, for I believe Dreyfus
guilty. However, I wished to confirm the story that you were connected
with the affair. I understand your life has been threatened?”
“And that is true. I have been told that I must leave France, or the
Anti-Dreyfus League would destroy me.”
“Well, there is no reason why you need fear the Anti-Dreyfus League.”
“Why not?”
“That order no longer exists. Monsieur Merriwell, you need have no
further fear of the league.”
“How about the tools of the league?”
“They are harmless now, for the league is not behind them. There is no
reason why they should molest you.”
There was a scream, and a sudden commotion at the adjoining table.
Several gendarmes had appeared there, and they were arresting the man
and the woman. The man was furious, and made a struggle. He tried to
draw a weapon and place it at his head, plainly with the intention of
committing suicide, but he was prevented and disarmed. Then irons were
placed upon him. A hand fell on Frank Merriwell’s arm. He turned his
head, and saw the Man of Mystery at his elbow.
“You have witnessed the arrest of the chief of the Black Brothers!” said
Mr. Noname, with great satisfaction. “I have hunted him down! I have
placed the officers upon him!”
“You?”
“Yes! The band is scattered and broken. One has committed suicide
to-night, while two others have been arrested. Three have fled from
Paris. My hired spies have done their work swiftly and well!”
“And you have brought all this about?”
“Even so. More than that, I have solved the mystery of the
bomb-throwing. In a drawer of the very table at which the man sat,
drinking coffee and reading a paper, when you rushed into the café to
capture the bomb-thrower, I discovered—these!”
He held up a false beard, a long-haired wig, and a slouch hat.
“What are those?” asked Diamond.
“The disguise worn by the fellow who threw the bomb. He made himself up
to look like me. Without doubt, he was the man who was drinking coffee
when you entered the room. He was one of the band of Black Brothers.”
“I believe it,” nodded Frank.
Now they again turned their attention to the gendarmes, who were
marching their prisoners away. As they departed, the woman turned, and
saw Frank standing and staring after her.
“Good night, Monsieur Merriwell!” she called. “You have no reason to
leave France now. There is no more danger for you. I admire your nerve,
and that is why I tell you this. Good night, and farewell forever!”
In truth it was “farewell forever.” On the following morning, the woman
was found dead on the cot in her prison cell. On her left wrist was a
tiny drop of blood that had oozed from a slight puncture, like a
pin-prick!
The tide in the affairs of justice in France had turned at last, and in
the great work of charity toward the unfortunate man who had endured
years of torture indescribable on Devil’s Island Frank had had a part,
and no small one, either, as he was to learn later. Looking back on that
time of danger for the French Republic, before the great public had come
to realize that a principle was above a party-cry in the affairs of
democracy, it seems strange that a leading part in the struggle was
taken by an American, a mere lad. But, as a French statesman said, when
this comment was made before him: “_Oui, monsieur!_ A lad, a mere lad,
if you will; but, remember, this mere lad was an American lad, and the
type of the best of young American manhood!”
Frank’s stay in France was not ended, and he had still to encounter many
dangers at the hands of his enemies, but we must leave him for the
present. Of one thing, however, there need be no doubt. Whatever his
perils, whatever dangers might threaten, Frank Merriwell was not the lad
to quail. For he was American to the core, and Americans do not fail. It
might take Frank’s enemies a long time to find it out, but, eventually,
they would realize all the French statesman meant, when he said: “This
mere lad was an American lad, and the type of the best of young American
manhood!”
THE END.
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[Illustration:
Medal Library No. 344
]
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● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_);
text that was bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).