The Blue Lights Part 33

For the time being she forgot the dangers which surrounded them, in her joy at the discovery of the boy. It had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly. If she could only escape, now, with the child, nothing else would matter in the least. And between her and freedom there lay but the thickness of a single door, and yet it seemed that she could not pa.s.s it.

She lifted the child from his hiding place and stood him upon the floor, then quickly swung the heavy slab of plaster back into position. At least, she reasoned, the kidnappers, when they returned, should not at once learn that their captive had escaped.

She knew that the hiding place had been but a temporary one, a means whereby the child might be kept out of sight during the day in case strangers should happen to enter the room. As soon as the kidnappers returned, they would, she realized, spirit the child away to some more secure retreat.

She went to the door and again shook it frantically, pulling at the k.n.o.b with all her strength, without producing the slightest result. The lock was evidently a strong one--the door held firm and unyielding, though she threw against it her entire weight.

Evidently there was no hope of escape here. Then she again bethought herself of the window. For a moment she gazed out into the darkness. The pavement was thirty feet below. No one was in sight. How could she ever reach the ground, with the child as well, even if she had possessed a rope? The thing was impossible.

Clearly there was nothing to do but wait. Possibly the a.s.sistance she expected from her friends, or the police, would arrive very soon--surely she could in some way keep the kidnappers occupied until then!

And suddenly she realized that the time had come. She heard the door of the house close softly, and upon the stair the sound of mounting footsteps.

Which was it, the police, or the kidnappers? The latter, she felt morally certain, since the former, in their haste to rescue the child, would beyond any question have arrived in an automobile, and at top speed.

The newcomers were mounting the stairs in a leisurely manner, as though free from any anxiety. Grace heard them pause for a moment on the first landing, then start up the second flight of stairs. It seemed to her out of the question, to stand in the middle of the room and await their entrance. At least she could postpone the fatal moment a little while, by hiding, with the boy, in the closet. She stepped into it, the child's hand in hers, and drew the door shut, just as the two men entered the room. On her way, she hastily blew out the candle.

They were the same two men that she had seen before,--the black-bearded man, now without his beard, and the artist, Durand. She saw this, as soon as the latter had relit the candle. She wondered if he would notice that the wick was still warm. Evidently he did not; for they threw themselves into chairs, lit cigarettes, and began to talk.

"Now we can speak freely," said Durand. "How did things go?"

"I got the money--gave the blue signal, and expected to be halfway to Brussels by now. What nonsense is this about a red light?"

"It is no nonsense, I a.s.sure you. I saw it with my own eyes, as plain as day."

"Then Francois must have made a mistake, or else he has been placed under arrest--the latter, no doubt. Now the question is, What shall we do? I think we ought to get out of Paris as soon as possible. It isn't safe to stay here." He looked about him nervously.

"Why not? You didn't telephone Monsieur Stapleton this address, did you?"

"No, naturally not."

"Then I don't see but what we are quite safe. No one knows the child is here."

"Then you don't intend to give him up?"

"Not yet. I must first find out whether or not Francois is in trouble."

"Let him look out for himself."

The older man frowned. "Since when, my friend," he asked, "have I been in the habit of deserting my comrades? Francois must go free, or Mr.

Stapleton does not get his boy. That's flat. The first thing is to send his father something that will let him see that we mean business."

"We've got to be sure about Francois, first."

"I'll find that out, tonight. My plan is this. We must first get the child away to Lavillac's place. This is too unsafe, here. Anyone might come in."

"They'd have difficulty in finding the hiding place." The younger man grinned.

"That's all very well; but the other place is safer. And then--Lavillac's woman can look after the brat while we are away. What a pity Francois had to get into a mess at the last moment! I hoped to be rid of the boy, by now." The older man rose and began striding up and down the room.

"Well," he said at length, sharply, "we might as well get along. I move that we wrap the boy in a coat, take him down to the car, run quickly out to Lavillac's place, leave him there, and start for Brussels at once. The rest we can do by 'phone. Francois set free--the boy the same.

Meanwhile, we've got to show this man Stapleton we mean business; so we'd better arrange to send him one of the kid's hands at once. If we don't, he'll have the whole Paris police force after us."

"All right. I'll get him out." He strode quickly over to the statue, pulled out the side, and gazed blankly into the empty s.p.a.ce before him.

"Sacre! The child's gone!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "Somebody has been here--in this room--since I left it, half an hour ago."

"The door was locked."

"I know; but somebody's been here, nevertheless, for the child is gone."

"He may not be gone, Durand. It is true that he is no longer in the house; but he may be in the room, for all that. Search the closet."

The man named Durand stepped quickly to the closet door. "Not much chance," he grumbled. "And if the police knew that he was here, and have spirited him away, they may even now be waiting to spring a trap of which you and I are the rats. For all we know the place is surrounded at this very moment."

"Then the sooner we get away from it the better. Search the closet. If he's not there, we'd better make tracks for the frontier as quickly as possible. We can do nothing more without the child. Francois will have to look out for himself."

Durand went impatiently up to the closet door and flung it open, then both he and his companion recoiled in surprise as Grace stepped out, holding the child by the hand.

"Mon Dieu!" gasped the two men in unison.

The one who had worn the black beard was the first to recover himself.

"Quick!" he cried, motioning toward Grace. "The woman is a detective.

Tie her up, and let's get away at once. No doubt she has sent word to her friends. We can't afford to stay here another minute." He seemed greatly excited and, rus.h.i.+ng to the window, inspected the silent street below.

Durand, meanwhile, had thrown himself upon the girl, seized her hands, and with a quick motion had secured them with a bit of cord he s.n.a.t.c.hed from within the closet.

She offered no resistance, made no outcry. Both seemed equally useless.

The boy stood by, watching the scene in childish wonder. So many queer things had happened to him, however, during the past few days, that he, too, remained silent.

In a moment the older man withdrew his head from the window, rushed to the closet, and drawing out a long gray coat, wrapped it about the child. "You will come along with us, Mademoiselle," he said sternly.

"Make no attempt to escape, if you value your life."

"But what do we want with her?" the younger man asked, impatiently.

"You fool! Would you leave her here, to give our description to the police? It would mean certain capture in a few hours. This woman has got to be put where she can do no harm until we are safely over the frontier. It may be wiser to silence her altogether. We'll decide about that when we reach Lavillac's. The first thing is to get out of this house without losing a moment's time. Come!" He started for the door.

As he did so, Grace heard, far off, the steady throbbing of an automobile. She felt a wave of hope sweep over her. It might be her friends, coming to her a.s.sistance. If so, they might yet arrive in time.

The two men evidently also heard the sound. "Hurry--hurry!" the older one urged, as they began to descend the stairs. "They may be on us at any moment. Go out the rear way."

Grace heard the sounds of the approaching automobile growing more and more distinct. In another minute it would stop before the door of the house. But in that minute her captors would not only have been able to descend the stairs, but would already be making good their escape through the garden at the rear of the building.

She must do something, she knew, to prevent this; but what--what? Bound as she was, how could she hope to prevent the escape of these men. She looked ahead of her, to where, a step or two in advance, the man of the black beard was hastily descending the stairs, the boy firmly held in his arms. Behind her came his companion, candle in hand, close at her heels.

They were within half a dozen steps of the lower hall. From this she could see a dark pa.s.sageway, leading to the rear of the house. Already the noise of the automobile without told her that it was stopping at the door. She heard the sound of rapid footsteps on the sidewalk; yet realized that, before her friends could break in, their quarry would have flown.

Without a moment's hesitation she sprang forward, throwing her whole weight upon the man in front of her.