A PROPOSAL
Bertha bridled at Fouchard’s remark, and, to the detective’s
chagrin, she shrugged her shoulders and was silent.
“Hm!” he grunted. “As I thought. You----”
“Wait!” cried Yolande. “I would like to speak to Bertha myself.”
“As you wish--as you wish.”
“Bertha,” said Yolande, in a well-controlled voice. “It is useless
beating about the bush. I know you are not the ordinary type of maid.
You came into my service with an ulterior motive--isn’t that so?”
Bertha hesitated, and then inclined her head.
“Good! Monsieur Fouchard--all of us, in fact--know that you are in
league with certain other persons, and that these persons and yourself
have a very definite object in view. Do you admit that?”
“Yes. Mademoiselle Fallières, I want you to know that I have done my
utmost to be loyal to you----”
“Loyal!” laughed Fouchard scoffingly.
“Be silent, please!” said Yolande.
“Monsieur Fouchard may laugh, but it is true,” resumed Bertha. “You
have treated me with kindness, even though you have known for some
time that I have been masquerading. It is because of that that I have
begged you so often to leave this château----”
“That is out of the question--but continue.”
“It is true we have a definite object in view. I cannot tell you more,
for I am pledged to silence. But connected with the achieving of that
object there is considerable danger.” Her voice grew tenser. “Why do
you not take warning from what has already happened. The danger is not
from us, but from another.”
“The creature who came into your room this evening?” put in Fouchard.
“Yes.”
“Is he also after the same thing as you?” queried Wallace.
“I can tell you no more. If it were not that I have a great regard for
Mademoiselle Fallières I would not have said so much. Before I leave
the château I want to warn you again to take great care.”
“So you are leaving me?” said Yolande.
“It is impossible to stay longer, now that you know I am a
masquerader.”
“But I have known it for some time. Bertha, are you being threatened
in any way--by those men? Are you a free agent?”
“Yes. Quite--quite free.”
“And do you imagine that I am going to let you slip away so easily?”
asked Fouchard bluntly. “I have kept my hands off you because it
happened to suit me, but----”
“You are thinking of arresting me?”
“I am--and I can make things very uncomfortable for you. By your
silence you are attempting to defeat the ends of justice.”
“I am in your hands,” said Bertha calmly. “But you make a mistake if
you think you can convict me of anything. I know the law fairly well,
m’sieur. I can prove a complete alibi in respect of the two murders.”
“But you know who did them,” snapped Fouchard.
“So do you, m’sieur.”
Fouchard ground his teeth at this. It was then that Yolande formulated
an idea that had taken root during the last two minutes.
“I propose an armistice,” she said.
“What?”
“Wait, m’sieur! Bertha here is but one of a party of four. Suppose we
meet the other three at a round-table conference, and talk things
over?”
Fouchard was aghast at the bare suggestion, and Wallace was a little
taken aback.
“As soon as I lay hands on Niels I shall arrest him,” threatened
Fouchard.
“No, you will not,” said Yolande.
“And why not?”
“Because I am making a special request of you. I want to be able to
assure Bertha on our words of honour that we will cease to wage war
against each other for twelve hours commencing to-morrow at noon. And
I want to beg Bertha to bring her friends here in order that I may put
before them an important proposal.”
“What?” asked Fouchard.
“That can be discussed later.”
“But it is preposterous! Here are a gang of house-breakers,
kidnappers, and----”
“The idea is good,” interrupted Wallace. “What has either side to lose
by adopting it? What do you say, Bertha?”
“Is mademoiselle serious?”
“Perfectly serious. I would give much for peace. Fouchard--you will
consent?”
“For twelve hours?”
“No longer. If we fail to come to an agreement, we continue where we
left off. Isn’t it reasonable enough?”
“I think it is insane,” grumbled Fouchard. “But if it is
mademoiselle’s sincere request, I can only answer, _noblesse oblige_.”
“Good man!” said Wallace. “What do you think about it, Bertha? Will
your friends accept?”
“I cannot say. But if M’sieur Fouchard will permit me to leave the
château without making any attempt to follow me, I will do my best to
bring about a meeting here to-morrow evening at eight o’clock.”
“I promise.”
“Thank you, Fouchard,” said Yolande. “And thank you, Bertha. I think
we should be friends and not foes.”
“Would to God it were possible!”
* * * * * * *
On the following afternoon Niels and his two accomplices were talking
together in their retreat over a cup of tea. Walther and Heinrich were
their usual placid selves, but Niels wore an expression of impatience.
“Rupert’s carelessness has ruined everything,” he said. “To let that
young devil escape----”
“You can’t blame Rupert altogether,” said Heinrich. “Not one man in a
thousand would have risked a three-mile swim in the Channel at
nighttime. That young man has my admiration.”
“He has my car,” snarled Niels. “We have to start all over again.”
“Time is with us,” said Walther. “We know that Fouchard must go to
Paris in a few days. It will leave us to deal with the man Wallace.”
“The other man may be back by then. The whole scheme has been ruined
by those two infernal Englishmen.”
“But----”
They all started as the door latch moved, and then uttered
ejaculations of surprise and welcome as Bertha entered the room. Niels
gazed at her a trifle suspiciously, for Niels had cause to believe
that Bertha was becoming too attached to Yolande.
“What now?” he asked.
“I saw him last night.”
“What!”
“He entered my room. Oh, horrible--horrible. I was frightened, and
tried to run, but he lashed me to a chair and gagged me. Then he
produced a razor. I thought my last moment had come, but he laughed
madly and went out.”
“Do you think he recognised you?”
“I don’t know. I felt I was choking, and tried to cry out. Some of the
servants must have heard me, but they were too scared to come it. They
brought Fouchard.”
“Well?”
“Fouchard questioned me. Ultimately we went down to mademoiselle. Of
course, I could not say much.”
“What do you call _much_?” asked Niels.
“Nothing at all about--what we want. They--they know all about
me--about my connections with you men.”
“That was obvious.”
“I told mademoiselle I would leave at once.”
“Why?”
“Because the situation is impossible. Her interest and ours conflict
so much that I refuse to masquerade any longer.”
“You can’t,” said Walther, “since she already knows.”
“What I mean is that I prefer to be an open foe--if that is the right
word. But wait! At the end she made a strange suggestion. She wants me
to bring you three to a kind of armistice conference. She says she has
an important proposal to put forward that may be acceptable to----”
“Splendid!” scoffed Niels. “And we are to walk up there and hold out
our hands for M’sieur Fouchard to slip his pretty bracelets over.
Really!”
“Let me finish!” said Bertha. “There is more sense in this than you
imagine. Fouchard has given his word of honour that he will keep this
armistice to the letter--twelve hours from noon to-day. You can trust
him, Niels. This is no trick. He would not consent at first, but
mademoiselle won him over--with Wallace’s help.”
“Queer situation!” mused Heinrich. “You have no idea what this
proposal embodies?”
“None. She would not even tell Fouchard.”
“It would be madness to go there,” said Niels. “What is there for us
to discuss with them?”
“But if we can trust their words of honour no harm could come of such
a meeting. We have nothing against that party--except that they
obstruct us,” said Heinrich.
“I agree,” put in Walther. “Armistices have a strange way of putting
an end to wars. Bertha is a splendid judge of character. She ought to
be in a position to assure us that there is no trickery behind this
invitation.”
“I will absolutely vouch for them,” said Bertha. “Come, Niels, be
reasonable.”
“So much is at stake,” said Niels grimly. “A false step and all will
be lost. I cannot see that any good can come of this, but I am willing
to fall in with you others. It will be a fine joke to chat with
Fouchard.”
“Eight o’clock to-night, then--at the château.”
“We shall be there. How did you get here?”
“I hired a car at Arveyes, but left it a good distance away. Have no
fear--the driver is an idiot.”
“I’ll drive you back,” said Niels. “We’ve got a wonderful piece of
mechanism that drops spare parts all over the road. We drive it ‘all
out’ at twenty-five miles an hour. Perhaps I may induce mademoiselle
to sell me my own car?”
So Bertha was dropped by Niels in the forest outside the château, for
he was not the type of man to take any unnecessary risk. Bertha at
once conveyed the news of her success to Yolande, who passed it on to
Wallace and Fouchard.
“Most irregular!” grumbled Fouchard. “What has she got up her sleeve?”
“We shall soon know,” replied Wallace.