BOOK FOUR The Vortex (continued 2)

The chauffeur caught Hugh’s hand, and, gripping the end of his thumb with the pincers, began to squeeze. Hugh felt the nail crack. The pain was excruciating. His breath came quick; his eyes started from his head. He choked back his groan of agony. Vulning was grinning now, the grin of a devil. It was that grin that nerved Hugh; not a sound passed his lips.

“Harder yet,” hissed Vulning. “Make him scream. Begin on another finger. Get a good grip. Squeeze! Remember, there are ten of them.”

He was carried away by a passion of cruelty and trembled with a strange joy as he watched Hugh’s face. The pain was so atrocious that Hugh almost fainted. Never mind! They should not make him give in. They should kill him first.

“Here, let me do it,” said Vulning. “You’re too easy.”

Hugh felt his nail bursting under the continued pressure. He closed his eyes. His breath came in long gasps....

Then suddenly in that tense and thrilling silence he heard a voice ringing out, high, harsh, metallic:

“Hands up, all of you.”

CHAPTER SIX THE ESCAPE

1.

THE three swung round and jerked their hands above their heads. A very tall man stood in the doorway. He had a spade-shaped beard and a coppery complexion. His hair of a glossy black was brushed smoothly back from a long, retreating forehead. His large nose was like the beak of a bird, and his black eyes glittered. In his outstretched hands he held two large automatic pistols. Hugh recognized to his amazement the supposed Brazilian diplomat, Doctor Bergius.

“Keep your hands up, gentlemen,” said Doctor Bergius warningly; and with a careless air he lowered his pistols and entered the room.

At his heels trooped three others. The first, no other than the dashing Italian Castelli, was in evening dress, but handling his revolver as if accustomed to its use. The other two were the most blood-thirsty pair of ruffians Hugh had ever seen. One was huge and hulking, hairy like a bear. A short beard almost covered his face, and his hair, bristly as that of a worn scrubbing-brush, came down to meet his bushy eyebrows. His companion was a very small man, spare, active and hairy as a monkey, with a lean and withered face and slit eyes that twinkled with malice.

“Come on, Golaz,” said Doctor Bergius to the tall ruffian. “You can look after the old fellow. Golaz, gentlemen, is my knife-man. In fact he used to be a pig-sticker. He is rather an enthusiastic specialist. He’d as lief cut your throat as look at you. Wouldn’t you, Golaz?”

The ursine man grunted in a pleased way. He took out a murderous-looking knife and going up to Bob Bender, who was standing very straight, with his arms in the air, made a playful pass with the knife across Bob’s scraggy throat. A little spot of blood appeared. Bob shuddered. Then Golaz gave him a little dig in the ribs with the needle point of the knife. Bob shivered.

“Golaz is really an artist,” said the doctor. “I have the greatest difficulty in restraining him. Now let me introduce another of my pets. Advance, Gamba.”

The simian man came forward grinning.

“Gamba’s specialty is strangling,” explained Doctor Bergius. “His work is slower but not less sure. Once let him get those hairy hands of his around your throat, and you’ll have to kill him to make him let go. You love to get your fingers round a windpipe, don’t you, Gamba?”

Gamba grinned broadly, clutching and gripping with his hands in a suggestive manner.

“All right, Gamba, you can account for the chauffeur. As for you, Castelli, I leave you the Englishman. Now that these preliminaries are all settled I can take a smoke.”

With a sigh of satisfaction Doctor Bergius sank down in the big arm-chair and lit a cigarette.

“Ah,” he sighed again, “what would life be without the soothing weed? You can have women and wine, Castelli; I would not exchange them both for nicotine. This is a comfortable den, Vulning; I feel quite at home already. Ha! I see you have the papers there. Castelli, hand them to me.”

The Italian took the system from Vulning’s hand and gave it to the doctor.

“Thank you. I imagine it’s all here. Also ...” he turned to Hugh, “it’s translator. Excellent. You know, Vulning, you’ve given me a lot of trouble. We were both on the same errand, only you went out by the door just as I came in by the window. What a pity you closed that safe. How was I to know it was empty? There I was struggling to open it, when the old man woke up. Golaz had to take his case in hand. The methods of Golaz are not refined but they are effective. Well, now to business.”

Doctor Bergius turned over the leaves of the system. “Here it is in my hands at last, the key that opens the golden gates of wealth. I say, Vulning, I’m sorry for you. You worked hard for this. I’m not such a bad chap after all. I’m going to take you in with us. You and Castelli can be on the same footing. The others can rank with Golaz and Gamba. Do you accept?”

Vulning nodded sullenly; the other two with alacrity.

“Good. You may lower your hands. And now let us come to this young man you have so beautifully bound, and I fear, so sadly maltreated. Your methods are primitive. I think I can show you a better way to make him listen to reason. Golaz, bring in the girl.”

Hugh started. He had fallen forward; but, by turning his head painfully, he could follow the movements of Golaz. He saw the big cut-throat disappear into the hallway. He heard a low moan and it seemed his heart forgot to beat. With straining eyes he watched the doorway. Yes, his worst fears were realized. Golaz entered with Margot in his arms. Her hands and feet were tied; her eyes closed, her hair streaming to the floor. She did not seem conscious of what was happening.

“Put her down,” said Doctor Bergius. “And now suppose we begin by trying this instrument of torture on those rosy little nails. It may be more effective with our obstinate friend here. Golaz and Gamba, hold her. Castelli, you can wield the pincers.”

But Castelli hung back. “No, Master,” he said with a shrug, “I have no stomach for that. A man, yes! A woman, well....”

“All right, Castelli. I know your softness of heart where the weaker sex is concerned. Vulning, to you will fall the honour.”

Again Paul Vulning took up the big pincers, and the points closed over the girl’s thumb-nail. With a piercing scream she opened her eyes.

“Hear that?” said Doctor Bergius to Hugh. “That’s only a beginning. If necessary we’ll crack her ten little nails like hazel nuts. Then if you don’t do what we want, I’ll hand her over to Golaz and Gamba to work their will on her. You know what that means. On the other hand if you consent, if you tell us the meaning of all this, you will both be well treated. You will perhaps be kept in close confinement for a few weeks, but after that you will be released. By then I hope we shall be ready to depart with the spoil. Shall we begin again on the girl?”

Hugh shook his head. His face was stamped with horror. “No, no,” he cried hoarsely. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a sensible lad. Seat him at the table and release his right arm. Vulning, have the goodness to fetch me pen, ink and paper.”

Vulning brought them from a little card table that stood in front of the bay window. Doctor Bergius rose and bent over Hugh.

“Now,” he said in his harsh metallic voice, “what we want you to do is quite simple. You will put on that paper all the symbols in those documents with their meanings. After that we will shut you up while I make the translation. If you forget anything and give me needless trouble, I shall have to deal severely with you. Also I will hold you responsible for the subsequent working of the system. So you see I want you to take your task very seriously. Now, go ahead.”

Hugh was placed facing the curtained window. He took up the pen and began to write. Doctor Bergius paced up and down. Every now and then he would look at the document in his hand and then at the symbols Hugh was writing. The page was soon covered with them. Hugh strained his memory. Had he forgotten anything? Were they complete?

As he paused for a moment, his brows pursed in thought, the eyes of all were fixed on him. The doctor stood with his back to the bay window, and as he struck a match to light a fresh cigarette, he laid the precious documents down on the little card table. Then in the tense silence the striking of the match startled Hugh, and he glanced up.... What was it he was seeing?... Behind the doctor a long sinewy hand was passing between the crimson curtains. It reached towards the little card table; it clutched the bundle of papers; it disappeared. But in that swift moment Hugh saw that the little finger of the hand was missing.

2.

The silence was almost painful. Hugh wondered how long it would last. Suddenly Paul Vulning pointed to the empty table with a cry.

“The system! It has vanished.”

Swift as a flash Doctor Bergius looked down. Then he rushed to the window.

“Quick,” he shouted, “I saw some one leap from the terrace. All of you in pursuit. We must recover it at all cost.”

He dashed out, Vulning, Castelli and the three others following him. From the darkness Hugh heard shots and much shouting.

“Scatter. Search the garden. Fire only if you’re sure.”

They had all gone. He was alone with Margot. He tried to see her, to go to her. He twisted around and tumbled from his chair.

Could he believe his ears? As he lay face down he heard a voice address him.

“Quick, sir. I’m goin’ to cut the ropes.”

It was old Bob Bender. He cut and slashed to such good purpose that in a moment Hugh and Margot were both free.

“There’s not a moment to lose,” whispered Bob. “They’re hunting out in front but they may return any minute. You must escape by the back. Come, I’ll show you the way. Buck up, missy, you’ve got to make an effort.”

Hugh supported the girl, and Bob piloted them along the dark hallway. At the foot of a flight of stairs Bob opened a door. The pure air of the mountain caressed their faces.

“Take to the woods,” whispered Bob. “Climb high, make a wide circle. I’ll slip back and get that paper you wrote. Then I’ll join them in the hunt. Good luck to you. Krantz is a wonder. The Casino is saved.”

3.

Taking the girl’s hand Hugh led her through the darkness, down a narrow flight of stone steps, and along a steep pathway amid the shrubbery. He heard sounds of the pursuit from the other side of the house and once the sharp crack of a revolver. Once too, some one came panting along the pathway towards them. He had scarcely time to pull Margot into the deep shadow of the bushes before a burly form pounded past. Trembling and terrified the girl clung to him until the footsteps were drowned in silence.

Once more he dragged her on. At the end of the pathway, they came to a small door set in the high wall, secured by a rusted bolt that at first resisted all his efforts. Suddenly it shot back, and they found themselves on the mountain side.

From the door a steep trail led to higher altitudes, and up this he hurried her. Rocks tripped them, and thorny bushes clutched at them, but spurred by fear they stumbled on. Even when the tiny donkey-path faded out and they found themselves on the raw and ragged flanks of the mountain, they continued to climb and climb.

Several times he thought Margot was going to give out, but a few words from him inspired her with a new courage. In the last of these pauses he listened acutely. The silence was absolute. They must be safe by now. They had been climbing for nearly an hour. He urged her to make one more effort, but she was unequal to it and entirely collapsed.

Lifting her in his arms he carried her to where a huge overhanging boulder formed a shallow shelter and laid her down. Resting her head on his knee, he covered her with his coat. Then with his back to the rock he waited for the daylight.

With the first brightening of the dove-grey sky he saw that they had climbed further than he had reckoned. They were on the slope beneath the Tete-du-Chien; above them towered the great bluff, its beetling front steel grey, stained with cinnamon, and around them, as if the greater gods had pelted it in sport, huge boulders heaped in fantastic confusion. Below them the olive groves were saturnine; the roofs of the Condamine a sullen crimson, and the sea’s immense tranquillity painted with a pale fire.

He looked down at the white face, pillowed on shining hair. Poor girl! How desperately exhausted she must be. Her sleep had been troubled by fits of trembling; and dry nervous sobs had awakened her half a dozen times. He had soothed her with assurances of safety. He aroused her gently and pointed to the brightening sky.

“Look!”

“But you are chilled through,” she said. “You are shivering. You should not have given me your coat.”

They rose stiffly, their faces haggard in the dawn. Slowly and painfully they descended the mountain.

“What happened,” he asked, “that night?...”

“I don’t know. I never understood. It was very late; I heard a noise in the professor’s room and tried his door; it opened. All was dark. There was a curious smell. Again I heard a noise. I was afraid he was ill. I hurried to his assistance. Some one caught me from behind, and a hand covered my mouth. I struggled, but I had no power. They bound and gagged me. Just as we were going away one of them flashed an electric torch on the floor. I saw the professor lying face downward. It was horrible....”

“Yes, I know. They killed the poor old man. But what after that?”

“A very strong man carried me in his arms; we descended from the window by a rope ladder. Below they had a closed-in car. We went up among the mountains, before we stopped at a lonely house. They lifted me down, and carried me to a room. I was locked in, a prisoner. Oh, they treated me well enough. There was a peasant woman who brought me my food and was kind to me. But the time was long, for I was terrified, and so anxious about you. I thought I should go mad. Then last night they put me in the car again, and brought me down. You know the rest.”

“What shall we do now? I suppose we had better go back to our room.”

She shook her head. “Nothing can make me spend another night there. The very idea horrifies me. No, I want to go far away from here, very far. If you don’t mind, I will get my things, stay at a hotel to-night, and to-morrow morning leave for Paris.”

“I quite understand. But ... how about that cottage at Villefranche? Won’t you come there with me?”

Again she shook her head. “No, not now....”

“Once you wanted to.”

“Once, yes. Once I had a dream.... That’s finished now. I’ve been a foolish girl. I did lots of thinking when I was alone up there, and I see my way clear. It’s a lonely way but perhaps I’ll have my share of happiness. Yes, I’d better go.”

He felt that she was right, and did not try to dissuade her.

“At any rate,” he said, “you’ll let me lend you that money, the two thousand we had such a fuss over?”

“Yes, I’ll borrow it gladly, and I’ll pay you back. I bless you for all you’ve done for me....”

Next morning he saw her off at the station. As she leaned from the window of a third class carriage she tried hard to keep back her tears. He remembered their arrival at this same station, and how he had followed her. He would miss her painfully. A last handclasp and the train bore her away. A loneliness came over him that was almost a heartache.

“That ends another chapter,” he said to himself. “Perhaps I’ll never see her again. Ah! little girl, may the gods bless you and make you happy.”

And with that he went sadly away.

CHAPTER SEVEN AN INTERLUDE

1.

ABOUT the end of May he bought the cottage near Villefranche. It had pinkish walls that dripped roses and a long generous garden dropping to the beach. There he had a little boat pulled up on the shingle and lay for long hours in its shadow, watching the dreamy glimmer of the sea, and listening to the musical plash of the waves. The velvet monotony of sea and sky tranquilized his spirit.

He used to rise at four every morning, and work in his garden through the cool hours; then go for a swim in the bay, floating lazily on the milk-warm water, blinking at the brightness of the sun. In the evenings he would fish from his boat, pulling softly home in the starlight. He became soaked with sunshine, as brown as any of his peasant neighbours, and just as carelessly happy. He learned to look on life with quiet eyes.

It was pleasant to think that he could go on like this for twenty years. He needed so little; his garden supplied him with fruit and vegetables, the sea with fish. By selling some of his produce and keeping chickens and rabbits, he could make the place self-supporting. He had infinite time to dream and paint. If he painted patiently and sincerely during twenty years surely he could achieve something.

This was the future he sketched out for himself. One thing was lacking; he missed Margot. If only she were there, it seemed to him his happiness would be complete.

But she was back at work with Folette. She had taken her old room again, the little mansard room, overlooking the Boulevard Montparnasse. She wrote to him quite often, and always that she was very happy.

Often as he lingered in his garden, he would look up and imagine her standing in the doorway of the cottage in a frame of roses. She seemed to complete the picture so perfectly. What a pity she was not there. Well, one can’t have everything. True, he might ask her to marry him. But the idea of marriage dismayed him; it seemed so irrevocable. Romance ended there, he told himself. He was only twenty-three and a lifetime is long to spend with one woman. An early marriage is a mistake, so every one said. He missed her companionship awfully, but there! ... no doubt in time he would get used to the loss of her!

2.

It was curious how far away Monte Carlo seemed. Unfamiliar mountains heaved up behind him; another topaz hoop separated him from the gloomy rock and the glittering point. Sometimes he would sail his little boat far out, and from the shadow of his sail, watch the poisoned paradise. It seemed to him like a dream picture, rising in terraced beauty from the azure of the sea. The Casino glittered like a heap of jewels, and the mountains brooded in violet abstraction. All was loveliness,—creamy beach and cradled harbour, palms and olive groves, snowy villas gleaming in green gardens, and shining slopes of pine. He gazed at it with rapture,—then shuddered at the thought of all that lay behind.

For Monte Carlo may be all things to all men, the most adorable spot in the world or the most hateful. And to him, filled with the moral strength that is born of peace, the place was increasingly detestable. Its beauty was the fatal beauty of a glorious courtesan, its people parasites living on the folly and depravity of mankind. From prince to page-boy they were dependent on that great temple of chance into which poured streams of gold from all the world. Its white range of palaces were to him the symbol of all that was weak and wanton in human nature.

As he sat in the shadow of his sail he recalled them all so plainly, the spendthrift and the starveling, the derelict and the degenerate, swirling round in the eternal circle of that greater wheel which symbolizes the whole, unable to extricate themselves, being drawn nearer and nearer to that vortex which is ruin.

He detested it all now and saw it with other eyes. He had escaped its lures. Never again would he set foot in its polluted halls.

Then one day a shadow fell across his path and looking up he saw Bob Bender.

3.

Bob, rusty and creaky as ever, looked singularly out of place in his radiant garden.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, rubbing his hands together with a rasping sound, “for interruptin’ your horticulturous provocations.”

“Not at all. Glad to see you.”

“Thank you, sir. You’ve got a tidy sorto’ place ’ere. Now if I was you I’d bank up that celery a little more, an’ them artichokes want cuttin’ back. Awful things artichokes is to grow on you, if you gives ’em a chance.”

“What do you know about gardening?”

“Most all there is to know, I expect, considerin’ that I was once in that way myself. Indeed I ’opes some day, if ever I can scrape up enough money, to buy a little place I know out ’Ampstead way. But there, I didn’t come ’ere to talk of gardens; I came over on quite another matter. Krantz sent me.”

“Krantz!”

“Yes. You see that Doctor Bergius ’as got something up ’is sleeve. We can’t quite make ’im out. ’E’s a great one, ’e is. There ain’t a greater international crook on the Continent to-day. ’E was ragin’ mad because Krantz got the system away from ’im, and now ’e swears ’e’ll get even, and do the Casino one in the eye.”

“That reminds me,” said Hugh. “What happened that night after we got away?”

“Oh, they thought you’d got at a knife with your free ’and and cut the ropes. I joined the chase and ’eaded ’em in the wrong direction. You see my bein’ with Vulning was an idea of Krantz’s. He suspected that Vulning ’ad the papers and got me to approach ’im. I pretended I’d fallen out with Krantz; and after a bit Vulning told me ’e ’ad the papers. It was me suggested ’e get you to translate ’em. Krantz was to come to your rescue. But we didn’t bargain on the other gang. However, it came off all right.”

“What do you want of me now?”

“Well, you see, I’m no longer in the confidence of that crowd. The doctor distrusted me from the first. There was the business of the window for one thing. Why didn’t I ’appen to fasten it properly? Anyhow they won’t ’ave anything to do with me now; and I can’t get to the bottom of the game they are playin’. But I do know they are ’avin’ an important meetin’ to-morrow at Vulning’s villa. It’s at two o’clock. There will only be Vulning and the doctor and Castelli. Now we were thinkin’ if we could get Vulning out of the way, and you could take his place....”

“What!”

“It’s really very simple, sir. You see you’re so extraordinary like ’im any way. Just a touch of make-up and you’d be perfect. We’ll give you a key to the villa and you can change into some of ’is clothes and receive the other two in the library. You can close the curtains and darken the room. Then you’ll deceive them, ’ear their plans and let us know.”

“But I’m risking my life.... If these fellows suspect, they’ll shoot me like a dog.”

“It’s true there’s a lot of risk; but Krantz says ’e’ll pay you ten thousand francs if you get the information ’e wants.”

“I’d rather not. I swore I’d never set foot in the Principality again.”

“Krantz says that, if ever ’e asked a favour of you, you promised you’d do it.”

“That’s true.... Well, tell Krantz ... I’ll do it.”

CHAPTER EIGHT THE PLOT

“CHER COMERADE:

There is something which weighs on me and of which I have been trying to write to you since several days.

You have heard me speak of Florent Garnier. Twice has he asked me in marriage, and a week ago he sought me out and demand me for the third time.

He is more prosperous than ever. He has a grand auto, and a villa near the forest of St. Germain. On Sunday with Jeanne we drive out to see it, and it is truly charming. Only he says he is so lonely there all by himself....

What am I to do? I think I am the most unhappy girl in all Paris. It is a great chance for me, and Madame Folette, Jeanne and the girls tell me I am crazy to refuse. Which is quite true because I am all alone in the life....

I do not ask your advice because I know you will tell me to take him too, and I don’t like when you do that. All the same I thing you are right, and this time it is for the best that I shall tell him.... Yes.

I hope you are well, and happy, and think of you very, very often.

Votre petite soeur adoptée, Margot.

Florent wishes we marry on the seventeenth September so that in that day you must think of me and wish me happiness.”

It was quarter past one when Hugh received this letter; it was half past when he jumped into the carmine car and told the chauffeur to drive him to Vulning’s villa.

“Keep to the blind side of that chap and he’ll never know you,” Bob Bender had said. “What with Vulning’s coat and hat and them yellow glasses he’s wearin’ lately any one would take you for his twin brother. The chauffeur’s had one or two drinks too much anyway,—we’ve seen to that. ’E’ll ’ave all ’is time taken up lookin’ after ’is car.”

“And Vulning?”

“We’ve got ’im safe. You see there’s a little girl he’s been after for some time. Mrs. Emslie’s daughter wot committed suicide. She’s workin’ as a nurse girl; but she won’t ’ave anything to do with ’im. Well, we got ’er to send ’im a note sayin’ she’d meet ’im at one o’clock in a room in a certain ’otel that’s a bit out of the way. ’E came all right; and, while he waited for her, we simply locked ’im in. ’E’s there now, ’ammerin’ at the door and ragin’ like a madman. We won’t let ’im out till you get back.”

“I’m feeling nervous.”

“Don’t be afraid. With that touch of make-up you’re as like ’im as two peas. You’ll fool ’em all right. ’Ere’s a key to the front door. Now run and jump into the car as if you were in a ’urry. Take this. It will steady you.”

Hugh took the small flask of brandy that Bender handed to him, walked quickly to the car and leaped in. The chauffeur did not even look at him. He touched the button that started the motor, moved into gear and the car shot forward.

As Hugh left the town below him his uneasiness increased. His excitement seemed to mount with the mounting road, his heart pounded like the straining motor of the car that bore him on. He took a pull at the brandy flask, and felt better.

They were now among the olive trees and still climbing. A sleepy quiet brooded around them. When they drew near the solitary house Hugh wanted to leap out and make for safety, but it was too late to draw back.

As the chauffeur drove the car around to the garage, Hugh mounted the front steps and opened the door. A rush of stale air met him. The hallway was dark and dirty. Vulning did not seem to have a caretaker and probably only slept there once in a while. The rooms leading off the hall were shuttered and dark. Hugh went into the library, threw back the shutters and unclasped the window. The light leaped in like a wild thing. He looked carefully out of the window. It gave on the terrace with a balustrade about three feet high. Below was the road leading to the garage, and beyond that dense shrubbery. He closed the window without clasping it, then drew the heavy curtains, plunging the room in mysterious gloom.

Once more he went out into the unlighted hall. How quiet and dark the house was! His footsteps awakened echoes everywhere. He went upstairs to where a door, slightly open, showed a chink of light. It appeared to be Vulning’s bedroom. The bed was unmade, the room untidy. He took off his overcoat and drew on a dressing-gown he found lying over a chair. On the tiny table at the head of the bed was a small automatic pistol. Seeing that it was loaded, he put it into his pocket.

He felt horribly “funky,” but a glance in the mirror reassured him. His sunburnt skin had been made up to resemble Vulning’s sallow one; little crowsfeet were round his eyes, and cynical lines about his mouth. His hair was parted in the middle and brushed back like Vulning’s. When he put on Vulning’s yellow glasses it would have taken a very clever man indeed to detect the substitution. If only his confounded nervousness would not give him away! He wound a silk muffler around his neck, noting as he did so how his hands trembled. That would never do! He took another big swig at the brandy flask. Courage glowed in him, even to the point of recklessness. He was ready to go down and face them.

As he descended the stairway somewhat unsteadily he saw that his guests were already awaiting him. How quietly they had come in! He had not heard them. Golaz and Gamba were in the hall and glowered at him with fierce and restless eyes as he passed. In the darkened library Castelli and the doctor were talking in low tones, bending over the table on which lay a large plan. They turned as he entered.

Hugh shivered as he shook the large hairy hand of Doctor Bergius. How he hated this man. Those deep set eyes were profound with cruelty; that dense blue-black beard concealed a face that might be that of a fiend incarnate; his large fleshy lips of a bright unnatural red, set in that black beard, gave a singularly repulsive impression. When he smiled it was with a grin, callous, relentless, orientally cruel.

He smiled now, and Hugh was glad of his yellow goggles. They concealed the fact that his eyes were black instead of blue. He was glad, too, of the drawn heavy curtain. It seemed to him that even with all his precautions Doctor Bergius was regarding him with a curious fixity.

“Ah, young man,” he said in his metallic voice, “you have kept us waiting. There is so much to be done and we have so little time. Castelli, close that door.”

Hugh nodded sullenly. He dared not trust himself to speak. Once again Doctor Bergius regarded him curiously. He did not seem satisfied. He went up to Hugh and stared at him very hard. Hugh’s heart began to thump.

“I am discovered,” he thought, and his hand went to his pistol.

But the Doctor turned away with an expression of contempt. “Pah!” he said. “You’ve been drinking again. I hope you’re not off on one of your bouts.”

Hugh shook his head. He affected a certain surly stupidity. “No, no, doctor,” he said thickly, “only a touch of brandy. Got sore throat. Caught a chill on the golf course. Felt shaky. Took it to steady me, clear my head.”

“Well, it must be the last until to-morrow evening. After that you can go to the devil your own way. Promise me that now,—the last.”

Hugh nodded sulkily.

“That is understood. Your part in the programme is a small one, but important. You must have all your wits about you. If you fail you may throw out the whole plan.”

“All right. I’ll keep off the stuff.”

“Good. Now to business. Look!... Here’s a plan of the Casino.”

Hugh showed an eager interest. In order to see it better he edged round to the side of the table nearest the window. He had Doctor Bergius on his right, on his left Castelli. The plan showed the entire ground floor of the Casino, the different rooms, the entrances, the windows, even the tables. Here and there were traced lines and figures in red, with names in Italian.

“You already have an idea,” went on Doctor Bergius, “of what the great plan is. It is something unheard of, unthought of, magnificent in its audacity. Only a man of genius could have imagined it, perfected it in all its detail. Only one man living could have done it. That man is myself. It is what the Americans call a ‘hold-up.’ We propose to hold-up the Casino.”

Here the doctor paused to give effect to his words, then continued:

“To do that, you realize, is a project of the greatest gravity. But I have arranged everything; and it should go like clockwork. In the first place we need lots of men. I have a band of about sixty, all desperate characters, recruited from the slums of Genoa. They are supposed to be a touring athletic club, all wear the same caps and ties. You may have noticed some of them already. They have been here for some days and have visited the Casino in the morning when it is open to all visitors. Besides this we have secured admission cards for about a score of them. They know the ground. Every man has his part and is drilled in it. Each is of proved and desperate courage, will carry two six-chambered revolvers, and know how to use them. Ah, my friend, it is a marvellous conception. You should have been present at our rehearsals.”

“What is my part?”

“Your part, my dear Vulning, is very simple. We have got a day ticket for you in the name of a Swedish gentleman. You will wear a heavy blonde beard and be completely disguised. This is for your sake. You see with what consideration we treat you. At six o’clock in the evening you will enter the Casino. That is the hour of affluence when all the tables are working, and the visitors have left their money behind. There should be several million francs in sight.”

Here the doctor paused and rubbed his hands crisply.

“But before going any further, I will explain my ideas as to the division of the spoil. Each of our men has been promised five thousand francs. For that they would risk their lives a dozen times. Golaz and Gamba are to have a hundred thousand francs each. You and Castelli will have five hundred thousand. I will be modestly contented with whatever is left. Is that understood?”

Castelli nodded. Hugh followed suit.

“Agreed. Now, Vulning, for your rôle! You enter the Casino, I say, at six o’clock precisely, disguised as a Swede. You go straight to the table next to the refreshment room. It has been arranged that a man will rise and give you a place. You will sit for a few minutes, then suddenly, ...” the doctor paused, and took from his pocket a revolver, “you will rise to your feet. You will take this from your pocket, and, holding it to your head, you will fire.... Ah! my friend Vulning, don’t start. It will only be loaded with a blank cartridge. It will do you no harm. Then having fired you will collapse and slip under the table. That’s all you have to do for five hundred thousand francs. Easy, isn’t it?”

“And what happens then?”

“What happens then?...” Doctor Bergius raised both hands exultantly. “Ha! I will tell you. That is the signal. Every one in the rooms will hear the shot and rush to the table. You know them. They will crowd around and push and jostle. They will want to get a glimpse of the suicide. There will be a mob. The attendants will be making frantic efforts to get out the body. Every one’s attention will be distracted.... Then it is that things will begin to happen.”

Doctor Bergius grew more and more impressive.

“We will have a dozen of our own men in the small room with the Opium Dream on the ceiling. Behold! it will be empty but for them. Every one else will have run to see the suicide. Only the croupiers will have remained at their posts. Everything will be easy. Six of our men will hold up the croupiers while the others throw open the windows. If you remember, there are four windows giving on the terrace near the band-stand. My men will be waiting down below. They will swarm up. To protect them I will have a cordon of men running down to the sea. There I will have waiting also two very fast steam launches.”

The doctor seemed to see it all. He spoke as a man inspired.

“After that it will be easy. A rush, a great drive. We will sweep them all before us. They will be like frightened sheep. Think of it! There will be forty of us all armed to the teeth. Can’t you see them flying before us? We will herd them all into the refreshment room. Castelli with twenty men will control the main rooms; Golaz with ten men will take the long room that gives on the terrace; Gamba with another ten will attend to the salon privé. We will shoot down any one that shows the least sign of resistance. There will be panic, confusion, terror. We will pen the croupiers in corners at the revolver’s point. Castelli, Golaz and Gamba will run to the tables and scoop the big notes into bags. We only want the big bills.”

“Hold on!” said Hugh. “What about the mechanism that automatically locks the coffers?”

“We’ve seen to that. An electrician in our pay has put it out of action. Everything has been thought of. In five minutes it will all be over. We will then gather in a band under the big dome, fire a final volley over the heads of the crowd and beat a retreat. Then we will drop from the windows, run to the beach, tumble into the waiting launches and ho! for Italy. It will all be over before any one realizes what has happened. Magnificent, isn’t it?”

“And what about me?”

“Ah, my dear Monsieur Vulning, do not worry about your precious self. Yours is the easiest part to play. You will, of course, beat a retreat with us. We will put you ashore at St. Remo if you wish. You can then remove your disguise and return here. No one will even suspect you....” Again Doctor Bergius looked at him curiously.

“I believe you are a coward, Vulning. Look here, Castelli will go through your part just to show you. I have here some blank cartridges. See! I charge the revolver. Now, Castelli....”

Castelli stood up by the table. He held the revolver about three feet from his head and fired. Then he dropped to the floor and remained there, grinning up at Hugh.

“Voila,” said the doctor. “That’s all. No risk for you. You lie snug under the table and watch events. Easy, isn’t it? Ah, the whole conception is superb, the work of a man of genius.... Listen!...” The doctor stopped suddenly, grew tense, alert. “What’s that? Who’s out there with Golaz and Gamba?”

Hugh, too, was listening. He heard excited voices and steps coming down the hall. He trembled and as he reached out for support his hand touched an inkwell made out of the fuse of an old German shell. The next instant the door was flung violently open and a man entered.

It was Paul Vulning.

CHAPTER NINE THE HOLD-UP

1.

“HOLD him! Hold the impostor!” cried Vulning.

Hugh dashed the brass inkwell at the head of Doctor Bergius. The doctor collapsed over the table. Castelli, who was still on the floor in a crouching position, clutched at Hugh’s leg. Hugh launched a vicious kick and caught him on the jaw. With one bound, he was behind the crimson curtains, and out on the terrace. He leaped the balustrade and plunged into the shrubbery. Madly he tore on. About fifty yards away was a high wall. He leaped at it desperately. His hands just clutched the coping, and he hung, slipping and scraping, feeling for a foothold. Then his toe caught in a tiny projection, and in another moment he had drawn himself up.

Spat! Spat! went the plaster of the wall.... They were firing at him as they ran. Golaz and Gamba came plunging through the bushes. They were appallingly near. The top of the wall was covered with bits of broken glass that caught his dressing-gown, as he leaped down on the other side. As he tried to wrench it free, a brown hand reached over and gripped it. With a twist and a turn, Hugh wriggled out of it. His pistol fell from the pocket. He snatched it up and rushed on.

A few yards further he darted behind an ancient olive tree and looked back. Gamba was already astride of the wall. Hugh fired twice and he saw the man drop back. Then he ran blindly on, taking the terraces of olive trees in reckless leaps, often landing on his knees. At length he came out on the mountain side amid boulders and prickly scrub. He dodged among the rocks, and cowered behind the bushes. He was torn and bleeding in a dozen places, and his clothes were in shreds. Presently he sank exhausted.

For over an hour he lay without moving. Everything was quiet; they had evidently given up the pursuit. He rose and by a round-about route he made his way back to the Casino.

Bob Bender was waiting for him on the steps. He looked anxious and excited. He dragged Hugh through a side door.

“Quick! tell me what’s happened. You’re in a hell of a state. We were afraid they’d got you.”

“Didn’t you know?... Vulning has escaped.”

“No!”

“Yes, he arrived at an awkward moment for me. I’ve had to jolly well risk my life for your people.”

“Vulning must have got out by the window. It was over thirty feet from the ground. We never thought of guarding that. He must have made a desperate effort.... Well, did you discover anything?”

“All.”

“The devil! Quick! Tell me. How pleased the chief will be!”

“There’s a hold-up of the Casino planned for to-morrow night.”

“A hold-up!”

“Yes. They’ve got over sixty gunmen. Vulning’s to give the signal by shooting himself with a blank cartridge. The men are to swarm up by the windows of the small room facing the band-stand. They have two fast steam launches to make their getaway in.”

“It was planned for to-morrow at six, you say?”

“To-morrow at six.”

“They’ll never try it now. We’ve got them beaten, thanks to you. It has taken you a long time to get here.”

“Over two hours.”

“More. Look, it’s nearly six now.”

“I had to make a big detour to avoid them.”

“Well, there’s no time to lose. They may try to-morrow after all; we must be prepared. Oh, won’t the chief be pleased! We must try to find him. He’s in the Casino somewhere. He has many disguises. Come....” Bob peered everywhere, but could see no sign of Krantz.

“Let’s look at the windows they mean to swarm up,” suggested Bob. The two men pulled aside the yellow blinds and looked down. The ledge was broad and the height not great.

“Easy enough,” commented Bob. “By getting into the band-stand a dozen men could command the whole terrace. The plan’s been well considered, but we’ll fix it so as it can never be carried out. We’ve got you beaten, Mister Bergius.... God! What’s that?”

Hugh looked to where Bob was pointing. On the calm sea, lying close in, were two long steam launches. They manœuvred up and down, until they were hidden by the terrace.

“Did you see them, or did I dream?”

“No, it’s them ... them!”

A sudden fear seized Bob Bender. He looked up at the clock.

“Just on the stroke of six. If only Krantz were here. I wonder....”

The two men stared at one another, and even as they stared, a sudden shot rang out.

Bob Bender gripped Hugh by the arm and cried hoarsely: “Hear that! the signal! They’ve advanced the time by twenty-four hours. If I’m not mistaken the ‘hold-up’ is now on.”

2.

They turned swiftly. The people at the table had left their places, and grabbing their stakes, were running in the direction of the sound. Only the croupiers sat still. These looked at one another in a rather uncomfortable way.

“Come,” said Hugh, “I want to see if it’s really Vulning.”

He ran after the others. The crowd was so dense, it was impossible to get near the victim. Hugh saw the lackeys struggling to extricate a limp form from under the table. The faces of the crowd wore a mixture of curiosity and awe; they pushed and jostled shamelessly, to get a glimpse of the suicide. The inspector, the floor director and the director of games hurried to the scene. It had been a long time since a suicide had taken place at the tables. It would make a nasty scandal.

“C’est tres embetant,” Hugh heard one of them say. He saw a lackey arrive with a black sheet to cover the corpse. Then a woman pushed her way out of the crowd; she was in a hysterical state.

“I saw him do it,” she cried. “I was sitting beside him. It was a big blonde man, a Swede, I think.”

“Look!” said Hugh, suddenly gripping Bob’s arm. “It’s true. There they come.” Almost simultaneously there were a dozen revolver shots, and a bunch of croupiers tumbled from the smaller salon, their hands in the air, their faces sick with fear.

“This is no place for me,” said Bob Bender. “They’ll shoot me at sight. I’m willing to work for the Casino, but I’m not willing to lose an inch of my skin for them.”

Bob disappeared and not a moment too soon. Hell seemed to have broken loose. With a rush and a roar a score of men burst from the small salon. They whooped as they ran, brandishing revolvers and firing in the air. Their swarthy faces were lit by the savage joy of combat. They drove every one before them; if a croupier showed a sign of resisting he was felled with the butt of a heavy revolver. But few of the croupiers resisted; most of them ran like rabbits, diving under the tables.

All was pandemonium. Women shrieked and fainted; there was a general struggle to get to the doors. Hugh could not move; he was wedged in a mob of players who fought and roared and cursed, as they backed away from the bandits.

Then in the midst of the mad tumult, hushing and dominating it, a harsh metallic voice rang out. “There is no danger so long as no one resists. Go quickly, all of you, and leave the rooms empty.”

It was Doctor Bergius. He was standing on the table to the right, an automatic in either hand. Around his head was bound a white bandage. Suddenly Hugh heard a report near him. A croupier had put his hand on the metal box where the big notes were kept; he collapsed instantly, shot in the head by Castelli.

Hugh was forced with the crowd into the refreshment room. He could still see swarthy ruffians pouring from the small salon and hear shrieks, shots, howls of excitement.

The centre of the Casino had been cleared, hundreds of players had been driven into the atrium, hundreds of others penned in the refreshment room. Doctor Bergius still stood there, while Castelli and two others looted the tables. The band that had worked the private rooms came running back with their booty. They were joined almost immediately by the gang that had been pillaging the main rooms. With revolvers in hands, they formed a solid mass, their eyes flashing, their teeth gleaming ferociously. The voice of Doctor Bergius again rang out:

“Stay where you are, all of you. We have men posted to command the crowd. If one of you moves from his place before a full ten minutes has passed he will be shot. This is a solemn warning.”

The doctor leaped down, and his men followed him, firing as they went.

Hugh edged through the crowd; he wanted to see what was happening. The last of the rear guard had disappeared into the smaller salon. Through the open doorway he saw them descending by the window. No one had as yet dared to move. Yes, there was one, a woman. Hugh saw her run in from the atrium, and marvelled at her daring. Then he recognized her. It was the tall woman who always dressed in grey. As she crossed the threshold of the small salon, she fired at the two men who were balanced on the sill; they swung around and returned the fire. Hugh recognized Castelli and the doctor. Then they, too, disappeared and the woman in grey lay still on the floor.

Everything was quiet, impressively quiet. The ten minutes were up but still no one was inclined to move. Hugh was the first to break the spell. He ran across the empty hall to the nearest open window. Two launches were steaming away. All was over now. The grand coup had been successful. When he turned back, the lackeys were carrying the veiled woman into one of the private rooms. Suddenly Hugh remembered the supposed suicide. He ran into the grand salon. The body still lay under the table. He bent down and examined it. It was Vulning; the false blonde beard was crimsoned with blood, and his head was blown open. The revolver had been loaded with a real ball. The poor devil had put an end to his own life. Doctor Bergius had seen to it that he had saved them his share of the swag. What a joker the doctor was!

3.

Hugh was sitting in his garden the following afternoon when Bob Bender came to see him. He counted out ten bills of a thousand francs each.

“There! if we failed it was through no fault of yours. You’ve earned this. Now we want you to go away for awhile, disappear somewhere. We want to hush the whole thing up, choke off all inquiries.”

“All right. By the way, what about that poor woman who was shot?”

“Oh, she’s all right! They only winged her. She dropped to avoid further injury. But then I shouldn’t say ‘she.’ Do you know who that was?”

“No.”

“Krantz.”

“The devil!”

“Yes, I was surprised myself. He’s been spying on the gang for months. He’ll be all right in a few weeks.”

“I’m glad. I liked Krantz. I say, you don’t need to be afraid of my blabbing anything. But I don’t see how you are going to hush up a thing like that. How are you going to account for it?”

Bob grinned.

“We’re giving out that it was the rehearsal of a cinema production.”

“Well, I’ll be hanged!... All right. I’ll make myself scarce. I’ll shove off somewhere this very night.”

And three hours later he was on the boat bound for Corsica.

END OF BOOK FOUR