The Golden Face Part 10

As I drove down to Folkestone I ruminated, as I so often did. No doubt some devilish plot was underlying the acceptance of the high police official's invitation to the staff dinner.

Its nature became revealed a few days later when, on opening my newspaper one morning, being still at Folkestone waiting in patience, I read a paragraph which aroused within me considerable interest.

It was to the effect that Superintendent Arthur Benton, the well-known Scotland Yard officer, had, after the annual dinner a few nights before, been suddenly taken ill on his way home to Hampstead, and was at the moment lying in a very critical condition suffering from some mysterious form of ptomaine poisoning, his life being despaired of.

I was quite unaware until long afterwards of the deeply laid attempt upon Benton's life, how the mysterious Dutchman was really a waiter much wanted by the French police for a poisoning affair in Ma.r.s.eilles, and that he had been able, by means best known to Rayne, to obtain temporary employment at the Elgin Rooms on the night of the banquet.

It was he who had served the table at which had sat the unsuspicious detective superintendent.

The latter fortunately did not succ.u.mb, but he was incapacitated from duty for over twelve months, during which period the inquiries regarding the unknown head of the criminal band were dropped, much to the relief of Rayne and Duperre.

All this, however, was, I saw, preliminary and in preparation for some great _coup_.

I suppose I had been kicking my heels about Folkestone for perhaps ten days when, without warning, Rayne and Lola arrived with Tracy and a quant.i.ty of luggage. No doubt the mysterious Dutchman had returned to the Continent by the fis.h.i.+ng-boat in which he had come over to act at Rayne's orders.

"We are going to the Continent by the morning service the day after to-morrow, George," Rayne told me. "Tracy leaves to-night. Lola will go with us as far as Paris, where Duperre will meet us, and we go south together."

And he produced a batch of tickets, among which I saw coupons for reserved compartments in the _wagon-lit_.

Afterwards he gave some peculiar instructions to Tracy.

"You'll recollect the map I showed you," he said. "Creches is two miles south of Macon. At about two kilometres towards Lyons there is a short bridge over a ravine. That's the spot. The train pa.s.ses there at three-eighteen in the morning."

"I follow you exactly," replied his stout, bald-headed accomplice. And I was left wondering what was intended.

That evening Tracy left us and crossed to Boulogne, while two days later we went on board the morning cross-Channel steamer, where, to my surprise, we met Mr. and Mrs. Blumenfeld.

The encounter was a most unexpected and pleasant one. The great financier and his wife were on their way to the Riviera, and we were going as far as Cannes.

"I had no idea that you were going south!" laughed Rayne happily as Lola, warmly dressed in furs, stood on deck chatting with Mrs.

Blumenfeld and watching the boat casting off from the quay. "It will be most delightful to travel together," he went on. "Lola stays in Paris and we go on to the Riviera. I suppose you've got your sleeping berths from Paris to-night?"

"Yes," replied the financier, and then on comparing the numbers on the coupons the old man discovered that by a coincidence his berth adjoined the one which had been taken for myself.

We travelled merrily across to Boulogne, the weather being unusually fine, and took our _dejeuner_ together in the _wagon-restaurant_ on the way to Paris. With old Blumenfeld was his faithful valet who looked especially after two battered old leather kitbags, a fact which, I noticed, did not escape Rudolph's watchful eye.

Arrived at the Gare du Nord, Lola was met by an elderly Englishwoman whom I recollected as having been a guest at Overstow, and after hurried farewells drove away in a car, while we took taxis across to the big hotel at the Gare de Lyon. There we dined, and at half-past eight joined the Ma.r.s.eilles express upon which was a single _wagon-lit_.

Just as I was about to enter it, Rayne took me by the arm, and walking along the platform out of hearing, whispered:

"Vincent is here. Don't recognize him. Be alert at three o'clock. I may want you!"

"For what?"

"Wait! We've something big in progress, George. Don't ask any questions," he said in that bl.u.s.tering impelling manner which he a.s.sumed when he was really serious.

Several times in the corridor I met the financier and his wife with their bony-faced valet, and, of course, I made myself polite and engaging to Mrs. Blumenfeld.

While the express roared through its first stage to Moret, I chatted with Rudolph and Blumenfeld after the latter's wife had retired, and as we sat in the dim light of the corridor of the sleeping-car smoking cigarettes, all seemed absolutely normal.

Suddenly from the end compartment of the car Duperre came forth. As a perfect stranger he apologized in French as he pa.s.sed us and walked to the little compartment at the end of the car where he ordered a drink from the conductor.

Hence old Mr. Blumenfeld was in ignorance that Vincent had any knowledge of us, or that Signorina Lacava, who was another of the pa.s.sengers, was our friend. Yet the thin-faced valet who had brought up my early cup of tea when we had stayed at Bradbourne continually hovered about his master.

Later, as the express was tearing on at increased speed, Mr.

Blumenfeld retired to his compartment, with his wife sleeping in the adjoining one, and within half an hour Rayne beckoned me into his compartment at the farther end, where we were joined by Duperre.

"I want you to be out in the corridor at three o'clock," Rayne said to me. "Open the window and sit by it as though you want fresh air. The conductor won't trouble you as he'll be put to sleep. After the train leaves Macon, Vincent will pa.s.s you something. You will watch for three white lights set in a row beside the railway line. Tracy will be down there in waiting. When you see the three lights throw out what Vincent gives to you. Understand?"

I now saw the plot. They had knowledge that old Blumenfeld was travelling with a quant.i.ty of negotiable securities which he intended to hand to his agent at Ma.r.s.eilles on his way to Cannes, and they meant to relieve him of them!

"I shall be fast asleep," Rayne went on, and turning to Duperre, he said: "Here's the old fellow's master-key. It opens everything."

"By Jove!" whispered Vincent. "That was a clever ruse of yours to contrive the old man to faint and then take an impression of the key upon his chain."

"It was the only way to get possession of it," Rayne declared with an evil grin. "But both of you know how to act, so I'll soon retire."

And a few moments later I went out leaving both men together. The train roared into a long tunnel and then out again across many high embankments and over bridges. Rain was falling in torrents and lashed the windows as we sped due south on our way to Dijon. At last I knew the cause and motive of the old financier's fainting fit. The reason of our visit to Bradbourne had been in order to obtain an impression of the old fellow's little master-key which opened all his luggage, his dispatch-boxes, and even the great safes at the office in Old Broad Street.

I hated the part I was forced to play, yet there certainly was an element of danger in it, and in that I delighted. Therefore I partially undressed, turned in, and read the newspaper, anxiously waiting for the hour of three and wondering in what manner Duperre intended to rob the victim. I hoped that no violence would be used.

The minutes crept on slowly as, time after time, I glanced at my watch. In the compartment next to mine the millionaire was sleeping, all unconscious of the insidious plot. The brown-uniformed conductor was asleep--no doubt he had taken a drink with Duperre. Besides, the corridor at each end of the sleeping-saloon was closed and locked.

At last, at five minutes to three, I very cautiously opened my door and stepped into the empty corridor. The train was again in a tunnel, the noise deafening and the atmosphere stifling. As soon as we were out in the open I noiselessly lowered the window and found that we were pa.s.sing through a mountainous country, for every moment we pa.s.sed over some rus.h.i.+ng torrent or through some narrow ravine.

It was already three o'clock when my nostrils were greeted with a pungent sickly odor of attar of roses, which seemed to be wafted along the corridor. It emanated, I imagined, from one of the compartments occupied by lady travellers.

Of a sudden we ran into the big station at Macon, where there was a wait of about five minutes--for the wheels to be tested. n.o.body left or entered. All was quite still after the roaring and rocking of the express.

As we waited the odor of roses became much more p.r.o.nounced, yet I sat at my post by the open window as though wanting fresh air, for the big sleeping-car was very stuffy, the heating apparatus being on. At last we moved out again, and I breathlessly waited for Duperre to hand me something to toss out to Tracy who was ready with the three signal lights beside the line.

The train gathered speed quickly. We had travelled two hundred and seventy miles and now had only a little farther to go. With my eye upon the side of the track, I sat scarce daring to breathe.

The ravine! We were crossing it! I glanced along the corridor. n.o.body came in sight.

Next instant I saw three white lights arranged in a row. But we flashed past them!

For some reason, why, I knew not, the plot had failed!

I dared not go to the compartment of either of my companions, so after sitting up a further half-hour I crept back to my sleeping-berth feeling very drowsy, and turning in, slept heavily.

I was awakened by a loud hammering upon my door, and an excited voice outside calling:

"Mr. Hargreave! Mr. Hargreave!"

I opened it in astonishment to find the gray-headed old millionaire in his pajamas.

"I've been robbed!" he gasped. "I can't wake the conductor. He's been drugged, I believe! What number is Mr. Rayne's compartment?"

"Number four," I answered. "But what has been taken?" I asked.