CHAPTER XVI
I Beard the Lion
Martigny was lying back in his berth, smoking a cigarette, and, as Ientered, he motioned me to a seat on the locker against the wall.
"It was most kind of you to come," he said, with his old smile.
"It was only by accident I learned you were on board," I explained, asI sat down. "You're getting better?"
"I believe so; though this physician is--what you call--analarmist--most of them are, indeed; the more desperate the illness,the more renowned the cure! Is it not so? He has even forbidden mecigarettes, but I prefer to die than to do without them. Will you nothave one?" and he motioned to the pile that lay beside him.
"Thank you," I said, selected one, and lighted it. "Your cigarettesare not to be resisted. But if you are so ill, why did you attemptthe voyage? Was it not imprudent?"
"A sudden call of business," he explained airily; "unexpectedbut--what you call--imperative. Besides, this bed is the same as anyother. You see, I have a week of rest."
"The doctor--it was he who mentioned your name to me--it was not onthe sailing-list----"
"No." He was looking at me sharply. "I came on board at the lastmoment--the need was ver' sudden, as I have said. I had not time toengage a stateroom."
"That explains it. Well, the doctor told me that you were bed-fast."
"Yes--since the voyage began I have not left it. I shall not ariseuntil we reach Havre to-morrow."
I watched him as he went through the familiar motion of lighting asecond cigarette from the first one. In the half-light of the cabin,I had not at first perceived how ill he looked; now, I saw the darkpatches under the eyes, the livid and flabby face, the shaking hand.And for the first time, with a little shock, I realized how near hehad been to death.
"But you, Mistair Lester," he was saying, "how does it occur that youalso are going to France? I did not know you contemplated----"
"No," I answered calmly, for I had seen that the question wasinevitable and I even welcomed it, since it gave me opportunity to getmy guns to going. "No; the last time I saw you, I didn't contemplateit, but a good deal has happened since then. Would you care to hear?Are you strong enough to talk?"
Oh, how I relished tantalizing him!
"I should like very exceedingly to hear," he assured me, and shiftedhis position a little, so that his face was in the shadow. "The beamsof light through the shutter make my eyes to hurt," he added.
So he mistrusted himself; so he was not finding the part an easy one,either! The thought gave me new courage, new audacity.
"You may remember," I began, "that I told you once that if I ever wentto work on the Holladay case, I'd try first to find the murderess. Isucceeded in doing it the very first day."
"Ah!" he breathed. "And after the police had failed! That was, indeed,remarkable. How did you accomplish it?"
"By the merest chance--by great good fortune. I was making a search ofthe French quarter, house by house, when, on Houston Street, I came toa restaurant, the Cafe Jourdain. A bottle of superieur set Jourdain'stongue to wagging; I pretended I wanted a room; he dropped a word, themerest hint; and, in the end, I got the whole story. It seems therewas not only one woman, there were two."
"Yes?"
"Yes--and a man whose name was Betuny or Bethune, or something likethat. But I didn't pay much attention to him--he doesn't figure in thecase. He didn't even go away with the women. The very day I set out onmy search, he was picked up on the streets somewhere suffering withapoplexy and taken to a hospital, so nearly dead that it was aquestion whether he would recover. So he's out of it. The Jourdainstold me that the women had sailed for France."
"You will pardon me," said my hearer, "but in what way did you makesure that they were the women you desired?"
"By the younger one's resemblance to Miss Holladay," I answered, lyingwith a glibness which surprised myself. "The Jourdains maintained thata photograph of Miss Holladay was really one of their lodger."
I heard him draw a deep breath, but he kept his face under admirablecontrol.
"Ah, yes," he said. "That was exceedingly clever. I should never havethought of that. That is worthy of Monsieur Lecoq. And so you followthem to France--but, surely, you have some more--what youcall--definite address than that, Mistair Lester!"
I could feel his eyes burning out from the shadows; I was thankful forthe cigarette--it helped me to preserve an indifferent countenance.
"No," I said. "It seems rather a wild-goose chase, doesn't it? But youcould advise me, Mr. Martigny. Where would it be best for me to searchfor them?"
He did not answer for a moment, and I took advantage of theopportunity to select a second cigarette and light it. I dared notremain unoccupied; I dared not meet his eyes; I trembled to see thatmy hand was not wholly steady.
"That," he began slowly, at last, "seems to me a most--ah!--deeficultaffair, Mistair Lester. To search for three people through allFrance--there seems little hope of success. Yet I should think it mostlikely that they have gone to Paris."
I nodded. "That was my own theory," I agreed. "But to find them inParis, seems also impossible."
"Not if one uses the police," he said. "It could, most probably, besoon achieved, if you requested the police to assist you."
"But, my dear sir," I protested. "I can't use the police. MissHolladay, at least, has committed no crime; she has simply chosen togo away without informing us."
"You will permit me to say, then, Mistair Lester," he observed, withjust a touch of irony, "that I fail to comprehend your anxietyconcerning her."
I felt that I had made a mis-step; that I had need to go carefully.
"It is not quite so simple as that," I explained. "The last time wesaw Miss Holladay, she told us that she was ill, and intended to go toher country home for a rest. Instead of going there, she sailed forFrance, without informing anyone--indeed, doing everything she couldto escape detection. That conduct seems so eccentric that we feel induty bound to investigate it. Besides, two days before she left shereceived from us a hundred thousand dollars in cash."
I saw him move uneasily on his bed; after all, this advantage of minewas no small one. No wonder he grew restless under this revelation ofsecrets which were not secrets!
"Ah!" he said softly; and again, "Ah! Yes, that seems peculiar. Yet,perhaps, if you had waited for a letter----"
"Suppose we had waited, and there had been no letter--suppose, inconsequence of waiting, we should be too late?"
"Too late? Too late for what, Mistair Lester? What is it you fear forher?"
"I don't know," I answered; "but something--something. At least, wecould not assume the responsibility of delay."
"No," he agreed; "perhaps not. You are doubtless quite right toinvestigate. I wish you success--I wish that I myself might aid you,there is so much of interest in the case to me; but I fear that to beimpossible. I must rest--I who have so many affairs calling me, solittle desire to rest! Is not the fate ironical?"
And he breathed a sigh, which was doubtless genuine enough.
"Will you go to Paris?" I asked.
"Oh, no; not at once. At Havre I shall meet my agent and transact myaffairs with him. Then I shall seek some place of quiet along thecoast."
"Yes," I said to myself, with leaping heart, "Etretat!" But I darednot speak the word.
"I shall write to you," he added, "when I have settled. Where do youstay at Paris?"
"We haven't decided yet," I said.
"We?" he repeated.
"Didn't I tell you? Mr. Royce, our junior partner, is with me--he'shad a breakdown in health, too, and needed a rest."
"It is no matter where you stay," he said; "I shall write to you atthe _poste restante_. I should like both you and your friend to be myguests before you return to Amer-ric'."
There was a courtesy, a cordiality in his tone which almost disarmedme. Such a finished scoundrel! It seemed a shame that I couldn't befriends with him, for I enjoyed him so thoroughly.
"We s
hall be glad to accept," I answered, knowing in my heart that theinvitation would never be made. "You're very kind."
He waved his hand deprecatingly, then let it fall upon the bed with agesture of weariness. I recognized the sign of dismissal. I was readyto go; I had accomplished all I could hope to accomplish; if I hadnot already disarmed his suspicions, I could never do so.
"I am tiring you!" I said, starting up. "How thoughtless of me!"
"No," he protested; "no"; but his voice was almost inaudible.
"I will go," I said. "You must pardon me. I hope you will soon bebetter," and I closed the door behind me with his murmured thanks inmy ears.
It was not till after dinner that I found opportunity to relate toMiss Kemball the details of my talk with Martigny. She listenedquietly until I had finished; then she looked at me smilingly.
"Why did you change your mind?" she asked.
"The adventure tempted me--those are your own words. I thought perhapsI might be able to throw Martigny off the track."
"And do you think you succeeded?"
"I don't know," I answered doubtfully. "He may have seen clear throughme."
"Oh, I don't believe him superhuman! I believe you succeeded."
"We shall know to-morrow," I suggested.
"Yes--and you must keep up the deception till the last moment.Remember, he will be watching you. He mustn't see you take the trainfor Etretat."
"I'll do my best," I said.
"And don't make mountains out of mole-hills. You see, you've beendistrusting yourself needlessly. One mustn't be too timid!"
"Do you think I'm too timid?" I demanded, eager instantly to prove thecontrary.
But she saw the light in my eyes, I suppose, for she drew away, almostimperceptibly.
"Only in some things," she retorted, and silenced me.
The evening passed and the last day came. We sighted land soon afterbreakfast--the high white cliffs of Cape La Hague--vague at first, butslowly lifting as we plowed on into the bay, with the crowded roofs ofHavre far ahead.
I was standing at the rail beside Miss Kemball, filled with thethought of our imminent good-by, when she turned to me suddenly.
"Don't forget Martigny," she cautioned. "Wouldn't you better see himagain?"
"I thought I'd wait till we landed," I said; "then I can help him offthe boat and see him well away from the station. He's too ill to bevery lively on his feet. We shouldn't have any trouble dodging him."
"Yes; and be careful. He mustn't suspect Etretat. But look at thatclump of houses yonder--aren't they picturesque?"
They _were_ picturesque, with their high red roofs and yellow gablesand striped awnings; yet I didn't care to look at them. I was glad toperceive what a complicated business it was, getting our boat to thequay, for I was jealous of every minute; but it was finallyaccomplished in the explosive French manner, and after a further shortdelay the gang-plank was run out.
"And now," said my companion, holding out her hand, "we must saygood-by."
"Indeed, not!" I protested. "See, there go your mother and Royce.They're evidently expecting us to follow. We'll have to help you withyour baggage."
"Our baggage goes through to Paris--we make our declarations there."
"At least, I must take you to the train."
"You are risking everything!" she cried. "We can say good-by here aswell as on the platform."
"I don't think so," I said.
"I have already said good-by to all my other friends!"
"But I refuse to be treated just like all the others," and I startedwith her down the gang-plank.
She looked at me from the corner of her eyes, her lips tremblingbetween indignation and amusement.
"Do you know," she said deliberately, "I am beginning to fear that youare obstinate, and I abhor obstinate people."
"I'm not at all obstinate," I objected. "I'm simply contending for myrights."
"Your rights?"
"My right to be with you as long as I can, for one."
"Are there others?"
"Many others. Shall I enumerate them?"
"No," she said, "we haven't time. Here is mother."
They were to take the company's special train to Paris, which waswaiting on the wharf, two hundred feet away, and we slowly pushed ourway toward it. In the clamor and hurry and confusion wholly Latin,there was no chance for intelligent converse. The place was swarmingwith people, each of them, as it seemed to me, on the verge ofhysteria. Someone, somewhere, was shouting "_En voiture!_" in astentorian voice. Suddenly, we found our way blocked by a uniformedofficial, who demanded to see our tickets.
"You can't come any farther, I'm afraid," said Mrs. Kemball, turningto us. "We'll have to say good-by," and she held out her hand. "Butwe'll soon see you both again in Paris. You have the address?"
"Oh, yes!" I assured her; I felt that there was no danger of my everforgetting it.
"Very well, then; we shall look for you," and she shook hands withboth of us.
For an instant, I felt another little hand in mine, a pair of blueeyes smiled up at me in a way----
"Good-by, Mr. Lester," said a voice. "I shall be all impatience tillwe meet again."
"So shall I," and I brightened. "That was nice of you, Miss Kemball."
"Oh, I shall be anxious to hear how you succeeded," she retorted. "Youwill bring Miss Holladay to us?"
"If we find her, yes."
"Then, again, good-by."
She waved her hand, smiling, and was lost in the crowd.
"Come on, Lester," said Mr. Royce's voice. "There's no use standingstaring here. We've got our own journey to look after," and he startedback along the platform.
Then, suddenly, I remembered Martigny.
"I'll be back in a minute," I called, and ran up the gang-plank. "HasM. Martigny left the ship yet?" I inquired of the first steward I met.
"Martigny?" he repeated. "Martigny? Let me see."
"The sick gentleman in 375," I prompted.
"Oh, yes," he said. "I do not know, monsieur."
"Well, no matter. I'll find out myself."
I mounted to the upper deck, and knocked at the door of 375. There wasno response. After a moment, I tried the door, but it was locked. Thewindow, however, was partly open, and, shading my eyes with my hands,I peered inside. The stateroom was empty.
A kind of panic seized me as I turned away. Had he, indeed, seenthrough my artifice? In attempting to blind him, had I merelyuncovered my own plan? Or--and my cheeks burned at the thought!--washe so well intrenched that he had no fear of me? Were his plans sowell laid that it mattered not to him whither I went or what I did?After all, I had no assurance of success at Etretat--no proof that thefugitives had gone there--no reasonable grounds to believe that weshould find them. Perhaps, indeed, Paris would be a better place tolook for them; perhaps Martigny's advice had really been well meant.
I passed a moment of heart-rending uncertainty; I saw quite clearlywhat a little, little chance of success we had. But I shook thefeeling off, sought the lower deck, and inquired again for Martigny.At last, the ship's doctor told me that he had seen the sick mansafely to a carriage, and had heard him order the driver to proceed tothe Hotel Continental.
"And, frankly, Mr. Lester," added the doctor, "I am glad to be so wellrid of him. It is most fortunate that he did not die on the voyage. Inmy opinion, he is very near the end."
I turned away with a lighter heart. From a dying man there could notbe much to fear. So I hunted up Mr. Royce, and found him, finally,endeavoring to extract some information from a supercilious officialin a gold-laced uniform.
It was, it seemed, a somewhat complicated proceeding to get toEtretat. In half an hour, a train would leave for Beuzeville, where wemust transfer to another line to Les Ifs; there a second transferwould be necessary before we could reach our destination. How longwould it take? Our informant shrugged his shoulders with finenonchalance. It was impossible to say. There had been a heavy stormtwo days before, which had blown do
wn wires and damaged the littlespur of track between Les Ifs and the sea. Trains were doubtlessrunning again over the branch, but we could not, probably, reachEtretat before morning.
Amid this jumble of uncertainties, one definite fact remained--a trainwas to leave in half an hour, which we must take. So we hurried backto the boat, made our declaration, had our boxes examinedperfunctorily and passed, bought our tickets, saw our baggagetransferred, tipped a dozen people, more or less, and finally wereshut into a compartment two minutes before the hour.
Then, in that first moment of inactivity, the fear of Martigny cameback upon me. Had he really gone to the hotel? Had he deemed us notworth watching? Or had he watched? Was he on the train with us? Was heable to follow? The more I thought of him, the more I doubted myability to deceive him.
I looked out cautiously from the window, up and down the platform, butsaw no sign of him, and in a moment more we rattled slowly away overthe switches. I sank back into my seat with a sigh of relief. PerhapsI had really blinded him!
An hour's run brought us to Beuzeville, where we were dumped out,together with our luggage, in a little frame station. An officialinformed us that we must wait there three hours for the train for LesIfs. Beyond that? He could not say. We might possibly reach Etretatnext day.
"How far is Les Ifs from here?" inquired my companion.
"About twelve kilometers, monsieur."
"And from there to Etretat?"
"Is twenty kilometers more, monsieur."
"Thirty-two kilometers altogether," said Mr. Royce. "That's abouttwenty miles. Why can't we drive, Lester? We ought to cover it easilyin three hours--four at the most."
Certainly it seemed better than waiting on the uncertain railway, andwe set at once about the work of finding a vehicle. I could be oflittle use, since English was an unknown tongue at Beuzeville, andeven Mr. Royce's French was sorely taxed, but we succeeded at last insecuring a horse and light trap, together with a driver who claimed toknow the road. All this had taken time, and the sun was setting whenwe finally drove away northward.
The road was smooth and level--they manage their road-making better inFrance--and we bowled along at a good rate past cultivated fields withlittle dwellings like doll-houses dotted here and there. Occasionallywe passed a man or woman trudging along the road, but as the darknessdeepened, it became more and more deserted. In an hour and a half fromBeuzeville we reached Les Ifs, and here we stopped for a light supper.We had cause to congratulate ourselves that we had secured a vehicleat Beuzeville, for we learned that no train would start for Etretatuntil morning. The damage wrought by the storm of two days before hadnot yet been repaired, the wires were still down, and we were warnedthat the road was badly washed in places.
Luckily for us, the moon soon arose, so that we got forward withoutmuch difficulty, though slowly; and an hour before midnight we pulledup triumphantly before the Hotel Blanquet, the principal inn ofEtretat. We lost no time in getting to bed; for we wished to be upbetimes in the morning, and I fell asleep with the comforting beliefthat we had at last eluded Monsieur Martigny.