A Man and His Money Part 23

"Monsieur!" Indignantly. "You think that I would--"

"Then you _are_ the wireless operator?"

"I was." Francois spoke more calmly. "His excellency has had the apparatus destroyed. He will take no chances of other spies or detectives being aboard who might understand its use."

The prisoner hardly heard the last words; for the moment he was concerned only with his disappointment. A sudden hope had died almost as soon as it had been born. "Too bad!" he murmured. Then--"How did you get here?"

"The third officer has the keys and our cabins are adjoining. I seized an opportune moment, slipped in, and took a wax impression of what I wanted. Then with an old key and a file--Monsieur is a great detective, perhaps, but I, too," with Gaston boastfulness, "can aspire to a little cleverness."

"A great deal," said Mr. Heatherbloom, the while his brain worked rapidly. Betty Dalrymple must have paid the youth well for serving her thus far. Thrift, as well as sentiment, seemed to s.h.i.+ne from Francois'

eloquent dark eyes. Could he be induced to espouse her cause yet further?

"Monsieur must not think I would prove disloyal to his excellency, my employer," spoke up the youth as if reading what had been pa.s.sing through the other's mind. "There could be no harm in a mere inquiry as to monsieur's state of health."

"None at all," a.s.sented the prisoner quickly. "Though"--a sudden inspiration came to Mr. Heatherbloom--"contingencies may arise when one can best serve those who employ him by secretly opposing them."

"I don't understand, Monsieur," said Francois cautiously.

"The prince is a madman. By incurring the enmity of his Imperial Master he would rush on to his own destruction. Suppose by this misalliance, the very map of Europe itself were destined to be changed?"

The words sounded portentous, and Francois stared. He had imagination.

The beautiful American girl had told him that this man before him was a great and daring detective. He spoke now even as an emissary of the czar himself. The prince was a high lord, close to the throne. These were deep waters. The youth looked troubled; Mr. Heatherbloom allowed the thought he had inspired to sink in.

"What is our first port?" his voice, more authoritative, now demanded.

Francois mentioned an island.

"When do we get there?"

"We are near it to-night but on account of the rocks and reefs, I heard the captain say we would slow down, so as not to enter the harbor until daybreak."

Daybreak! And then? Mr. Heatherbloom closed his eyes; when he again opened them they revealed none of the poignant emotion that had swept over him. "What time is it now?"

"About ten."

"My jailer--the third officer, you say--visits this cell once every night. Do you know what time he comes?"

"I shouldn't be here, Monsieur, at this moment, if I didn't know that.

He comes in an hour, after his watch is over, with the bread and water--monsieur's frugal fare. And now"--those apprehensions, momentarily dulled by wonderment seemed returning to Francois--"I will bid monsieur--"

"Stay! One moment!" Mr. Heatherbloom's accents were feverish, commanding. "You must--in the name of the czar!--for the prince's sake!--for hers--for--for the reward--"

"Monsieur!" Again that flicker of indignation.

Mr. Heatherbloom swept it aside. "She has asked you to help her escape?"

he demanded swiftly.

Francois did not exactly deny. There were no listeners here. "It would be impossible for her to escape," he answered rather sullenly.

"Then she did broach a plan--one you refused to accede to. What was it?"

"Mere madness!" Scoffingly. "Mademoiselle may be generous, and _mon Dieu_! very persuasive, but she doesn't get me to--"

"What _was_ her proposal? Answer." Sternly. "You can't incriminate yourself here."

Francois knew that. The cell was remote. There could be no harm in letting the talk drift a little further. He replied, briefly outlining the plan.

"Excellent!" observed Mr. Heatherbloom.

"Mere madness!" reiterated Francois.

"Not at all. But if it were, some people would, under the circ.u.mstances," with subtle accent, "gladly undertake it--just as you will!" he added.

"Oh, will I?" Ironically.

"Yes, when you hear all I have to say. In the first place, I relinquish all claim to the reward. Sufficient for me--" And Mr. Heatherbloom mumbled something about the czar.

"Bah! That sounds very well, only there wouldn't be any reward,"

retorted Francois. "The prince would only capture us again and then--"

He shrugged. "I know his temper and have no desire for the longer voyage with old man Charon--"

"Wait!" More aggressively. "I have not done. No one will suspect that you have been here to-nigh't?" he asked.

"Does monsieur think I am a fool? No, no! And now my little errand for mademoiselle being finished--"

"You can do as Miss Dalrymple wishes, achieve an embarra.s.sment of riches, and run no risk whatever yourself."

"Indeed?" Starting slightly.

"At least, no appreciable one." Mr. Heatherbloom explained his plan quickly. Francois listened, at first with open skepticism, then with growing interest.

"_Mon Dieu_! If it were possible!" he muttered. South-of-France imagination had again been appealed to. "But no--"

"Remember all the reward will be for you"--swiftly--"sufficient to buy vineyards and settle down for a life of peace and plenty--" Francois'

eyes wavered; any Frenchman would have found the picture enticing.

Already the beautiful American girl had, as Mr. Heatherbloom suspected, surrept.i.tiously thrust several valuable jewels upon the youth as a reward for this preliminary service. Having experienced a foretaste of riches, Francois perhaps secretly longed for more of the glittering gems and for some of those American dollars which sounded five times as large in francs. Besides, this man, the great detective, or emissary, inspired confidence; his tones were vibrant, compelling.

"And for you, Monsieur?--the risk for you--" Francois faltered.

"Never mind about me. You consent?"

The other swallowed, muttered a monosyllable in a low tone.

"Then--" Heatherbloom murmured a few instructions. "Miss Dalrymple is not to know."

"I understand," said Francois quickly. And going out stealthily, he closed and locked the door behind him.