CHAPTER XXIII
TROUBLE BREWING
The maitre d'hotel had presented his bill. The little luncheon party wasalmost over.
"So I take leave," Hunterleys remarked, as he sat down his empty liqueurglass, "of one of my responsibilities in life."
"I think I'd like to remain a sort of half ward, please," Feliciaobjected, "in case David doesn't treat me properly."
"If he doesn't," Hunterleys declared, "he will have me to answer to.Seriously, I think you young people are very wise and very foolish andvery much to be envied. What does Sidney say about it?"
Felicia made a little grimace. She glanced around but the tables nearthem were unoccupied.
"Sidney is much too engrossed in his mysterious work to concern himselfvery much about anything," she replied. "Do you know that he has beenout all night two nights this week already, and he is making no end ofpreparations for to-day?"
Hunterleys nodded.
"I know that he is very busy just now," he assented gravely. "I mustcome up and talk to him this afternoon."
"We left him writing," Felicia said. "Of course, he declares that it isfor his beloved newspaper, but I am not sure. He scarcely ever goes outin the daytime. What can he have to write about? David's work isstrenuous enough, and I have told him that if he turns war correspondentagain, I shall break it off."
"We all have our work to do in life," Hunterleys reminded her. "You haveto sing in _Aida_ to-night, and you have to do yourself justice for thesake of a great many people. Your brother has his work to do, also.Whatever the nature of it may be, he has taken it up and he must gothrough with it. It would be of no use his worrying for fear that youshould forget your words or your notes to-night, and there is no purposein your fretting because there may be danger in what he has to do. Ipromise you that so far as I can prevent it, he shall take nounnecessary risks. Now, if you like, I will walk home with you youngpeople, if I sha'n't be terribly in the way. I know that Sidney wants tosee me."
They left the restaurant, a few minutes later, and strolled up towardsthe town. Hunterleys paused outside a jeweler's shop.
"And now for the important business of the day!" he declared. "I mustbuy you an engagement present, on behalf of myself and all yourguardians. Come in and help me choose, both of you. A girl who carriesher gloves in her hand to show her engagement ring, should have a betterbag to hang from that little finger."
"You really are the most perfect person that ever breathed!" she sighed."You know I don't deserve anything of the sort."
They paid their visit to the jeweler and afterwards drove up to thevilla in a little victoria. Sidney Roche was hard at work in hisshirt-sleeves. He greeted Hunterleys warmly.
"Glad you've come up!" he exclaimed. "The little girl's told you thenews, I suppose?"
"Rather!" Hunterleys replied. "I have been lunching with them on thestrength of it."
"And look!" Felicia cried, holding out the gold bag which hung from herfinger. "Look how I am being spoiled."
Her brother sighed.
"Awful nuisance for me," he grumbled, "having to live with an engagedcouple. You couldn't clear out for a little time," he suggested, "bothof you? I want to talk to Hunterleys."
"We'll go and sit in the garden," Felicia assented. "I suppose I oughtto rest. David shall read my score to me."
They passed out and Roche closed the door behind them carefully.
"Anything fresh?" Hunterleys asked.
"Nothing particular," was the somewhat guarded reply. "That fellowFrenhofer has been up here."
"Frenhofer?" Hunterleys repeated, interrogatively.
"He is the only man I can rely upon at the Villa Mimosa," Rocheexplained. "I am afraid to-night it's going to be rather a difficultjob."
"I always feared it would be," Hunterleys agreed.
"Frenhofer tells me," Roche continued, "that for some reason or othertheir suspicions have been aroused up there. They are all on edge. Youknow, the house is cram-full of men-servants and there are to be a dozenof them on duty in the grounds. Two or three of these fellows arenothing more or less than private detectives, and they all of them knowwhat they're about or Grex wouldn't have them."
Hunterleys looked grave.
"It sounds awkward," he admitted.
"The general idea of the plot," Roche went on, walking restlessly up anddown the room, "you and I have already solved, and by this time theyknow it in London. But there are two things which I feel they maydiscuss to-night, which are of vital importance. The first is the date,the second is the terms of the offer to Douaille. Then, of course, moreimportant, perhaps, than either of these, is the matter of Douaille'sgeneral attitude towards the scheme."
"So far," Hunterleys remarked reflectively, "we haven't the slightestindication of what that may be. Douaille came pledged to nothing. Hemay, after all, stand firm."
"For the honour of his country, let us hope so," Roche said solemnly."Yet I am sure of one thing. They are going to make him a wonderfuloffer. He may find himself confronted with a problem which some of thegreatest statesmen in the world have had to face in their time--shall hestudy the material benefit of his country, or shall he stand firm forher honour?"
"It's a great ethical question," Hunterleys declared, "too great for usto discuss now, Sidney. Tell me, do you really mean to go on with thisattempt of yours to-night?"
"I must," Roche replied. "Frenhofer wants me to give up the roof idea,but there is nothing else worth trying. He brought a fresh plan of theroom with him. There it lies on the table. As you see, the apartmentwhere the meeting will take place is almost isolated from the rest ofthe house. There is only one approach to it, by a corridor leading fromthe hall. The east and west sides will be patrolled. On the south thereis a little terrace, but the approach to it is absolutely impossible.There is a sheer drop of fifty feet on to the beach."
"You think they have no suspicion about the roof?" Hunterleys askeddoubtfully.
"Not yet. The pane of glass is cut out and my entrance to the house isarranged for. Frenhofer will tamper with the electric lights in thekitchen premises and I shall arrive in response to his telephonicmessage, in the clothes of a working-man and with a bag of tools. Thenhe smuggles me on to the spiral stairway which leads out on to the roofwhere the flag-staff is. I can crawl the rest of the way to my place.The trouble is that notwithstanding the ledge around, if it is aperfectly clear night, just a fraction of my body, however flat I lie,might be seen from the ground."
Hunterleys studied the plan for a moment and shook his head.
"It's a terrible risk, this, Roche," he said seriously.
"I know it," the other admitted, "but what am I to do? They keep sendingme cipher messages from home to spare no effort to send further news, asyou know very well, and two other fellows will be here the day afterto-morrow, to relieve me. I must do what I can. There's one thing,Felicia's off my mind now. Briston's a good fellow and he'll look afterher."
"In the event of your capture--" Hunterleys began.
"The tools I shall take with me," Roche interrupted, "are commonhousebreaker's tools. Every shred of clothing I shall be wearing will bein keeping, the ordinary garments of an _ouvrier_ of the district. If Iam trapped, it will be as a burglar and not as a spy. Of course, ifDouaille opens the proceedings by declaring himself against the scheme,I shall make myself scarce as quickly as I can."
"You were quite right when you said just now," Hunterleys observed,"that Douaille will find himself in a difficult position. There is nodoubt but that he is an honest man. On the other hand, it is a politicalaxiom that the first duty of any statesman is to his own people. If theycan make Douaille believe that he is going to restore her lost provincesto France without the shedding of a drop of French blood, simply atEngland's expense, he will be confronted with a problem over which anyman might hesitate. He has had all day to think it over. What he maydecide is simply on the knees of the gods."
Roche sealed up the letter he had been writing, and handed
it toHunterleys.
"Well," he said, "I have left everything in order. If there's anymysterious disappearance from here, it will be the mysteriousdisappearance of a newspaper correspondent, and nothing else."
"Good luck, then, old chap!" Hunterleys wished him. "If you pull throughthis time, I think our job will be done. I'll tell them at headquartersthat you deserve a year's holiday."
Roche smiled a little queerly.
"Don't forget," he pointed out, "that it was you who scented out thewhole plot. I've simply done the Scotland Yard work. The worst of ourjob is," he added, as he opened the door, "that we don't want holidays.We are like drugged beings. The thing gets hold of us. I suppose if theygave me a holiday I should spend it in St. Petersburg. That's where weought to send our best men just now. So long, Sir Henry."
They shook hands once more. Roche's face was set in grim lines. Theywere both silent for a moment. It was the farewell of men whose eyes arefixed upon the great things.
"Good luck to you!" Hunterleys repeated fervently, as he turned andwalked down the tiled way.