CHAPTER XI

  HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS

  Hunterleys, in accordance with his request, followed the Commissionerdownstairs into one of the small private rooms on the ground floor. Thelatter was very polite but very official.

  "Now what is it that you want?" Hunterleys asked, a little brusquely, assoon as they were alone.

  The representative of the law was distinctly mysterious. He had a brownmoustache which he continually twirled, and he was all the time droppinghis voice to a whisper.

  "My first introduction to you should explain my mission, Sir Henry," hesaid. "I hold a high position in the police here. My business with you,however, is on behalf of a person whom I will not name, but whoseidentity you will doubtless guess."

  "Very well," Hunterleys replied. "Now what is the nature of thismission, please? In plain words, what do you want with me?"

  "I am here with reference to the affair of last night," the otherdeclared.

  "The affair of last night?" Hunterleys repeated, frowning. "Well, we allhave to appear or be represented before the magistrates to-morrowmorning. I shall send a lawyer."

  "Quite so! Quite so! But in the meantime, something has transpired. Youand the young American, Mr. Richard Lane, were the only two who offeredany resistance. It was owing to you two, in fact, that the plot wasfrustrated. I am quite sure, Sir Henry, that every one agrees with me inappreciating your courage and presence of mind."

  "Thank you," Hunterleys replied. "Is that what you came to say?"

  The other shook his head.

  "Unfortunately, no, monsieur! I am here to bring you certaininformation. The chief of the gang, Armand Martin, the man whom youattacked, became suddenly worse a few hours ago. The doctors suspectinternal injuries, injuries inflicted during his struggle with you."

  "I am very sorry to hear it," Hunterleys said coolly. "On the otherhand, he asked for anything he got."

  "Unfortunately," the Commissioner continued, "the law of the State iscuriously framed in such matters. If the man should die, as seems morethan likely, your legal position, Sir Henry, would be mostuncomfortable. Your arrest would be a necessity, and there is no lawgranting what I believe you call bail to a person directly or indirectlyresponsible for the death of another. I am here, therefore, to give youwhat I may term an official warning. Your absence as a witness to-morrowmorning will not be commented upon--events of importance have called youback to England. You will thereby be saved a very large amount ofannoyance, and the authorities here will be spared the most regrettablenecessity of having to deal with you in a manner unbefitting your rank."

  Hunterleys became at once thoughtful. The whole matter was becomingclear to him.

  "I see," he observed. "This is a warning to me to take my departure. Isthat so?"

  The Commissioner beamed and nodded many times.

  "You have a quick understanding, Sir Henry," he declared. "Yourdeparture to-night, or early to-morrow morning, would save a good dealof unpleasantness. I have fulfilled my mission, and I trust that youwill reflect seriously upon the matter. It is the wish of the highpersonage whom I represent, that no inconvenience whatever should befallso distinguished a visitor to the Principality. Good day, monsieur!"

  The official took his leave with a sweep of the hat and many bows.Hunterleys, after a brief hesitation, walked out into the sun-dappledstreet. It was the most fashionable hour of the afternoon. Up in thesquare a band was playing. Outside, two or three smart automobiles weredischarging their freight of wonderfully-dressed women and debonair menfrom the villas outside. Suddenly a hand fell upon his arm. It wasRichard Lane who greeted him.

  "Say, where are you off to, Sir Henry?" he inquired.

  Hunterleys laughed a little shortly.

  "Really, I scarcely know," he replied. "Back to London, if I am wise, Isuppose."

  "Come into the Club," Richard begged.

  "I have just left," Hunterleys told him. "Besides, I hate the place."

  "Did you happen to notice whether Mr. Grex was in there?" Richardenquired.

  "I didn't see him," Hunterleys answered. "Neither," he addedsignificantly, "did I see Miss Grex."

  "Well, I am going in to have a look round, anyway," Richard decided."You might come along. There's nothing else to do in this place untildinner-time."

  Hunterleys suffered himself to be persuaded and remounted the steps.

  "Tell me, Lane," he asked curiously, "have you heard anything about anyof the victims of our little struggle last night--I mean the two men wetackled?"

  Richard shook his head.

  "I hear that mine has a broken wrist," he said. "Can't say I am feelingvery badly about that!"

  "I've just been told that mine is going to die," Hunterleys continued.

  The young man laughed incredulously.

  "Why, I went over the prison this morning," he declared. "I never sawsuch a healthy lot of ruffians in my life. That chap whom youtackled--the one with the revolver--was smoking cigarettes and usinglanguage--well, I couldn't understand it all, but what I did understandwas enough to melt the bars of his prison."

  "That's odd," Hunterleys remarked drily. "According to the policecommissioner who has just left me, the man is on his death-bed, and myonly chance of escaping serious trouble is to get out of Monte Carloto-night."

  "Are you going?"

  Hunterleys shook his head.

  "It would take a great deal more than that to move me just now," hesaid, "even if I had not suspected from the first that the man waslying."

  Richard glanced at his companion a little curiously.

  "I shouldn't have said that you were having such a good time, SirHenry," he observed; "in fact I should have thought you would have beenrather glad of an opportunity to slip away."

  Hunterleys looked around them. They had reached the top of the staircaseand were in sight of the dense crowd in the rooms.

  "Come and have a drink," he suggested. "A great many of these peoplewill have cleared off presently."

  "I'll have a drink, with pleasure," Richard answered, "but I still can'tsee why you're stuck on this place."

  They strolled into the bar and found two vacant places.

  "My dear young friend," Hunterleys said, as he ordered their drinks, "ifyou were an Englishman instead of an American, I think that I would giveyou a hint as to the reason why I do not wish to leave Monte Carlo justat present."

  "Can't see what difference that makes," Richard declared. "You know I'mall for the old country."

  "I wonder whether you are," Hunterleys remarked thoughtfully. "I tellyou frankly that if I thought you meant it, I should probably come toyou before long for a little help."

  "If ever you do, I'm your man," Richard assured him heartily. "Any morescraps going?"

  Hunterleys sipped his whisky and soda thoughtfully. There had been anexodus from the room to watch some heavy gambling at _Trente etQuarante_, and for a moment they were almost alone.

  "Lane," he said, "I am going to take you a little into my confidence. Ina way I suppose it is foolish, but to tell you the truth, I am almostdriven to it. You know that I am a Member of Parliament, and you mayhave heard that if our Party hadn't gone out a few years ago, I was tohave been Foreign Minister."

  "I've heard that often enough," Lane assented. "I've heard you quoted,too, as an example of the curse of party politics. Just because you areforced to call yourself a member of one Party you are debarred fromserving your country in any capacity until that Party is in power."

  "That's quite true," Hunterleys admitted, "and to tell you the truth,ridiculous though it seems, I don't see how you're to get away from itin a practical manner. Anyhow, when my people came out I made up my mindthat I wasn't going to just sit still in Opposition and find fault allthe time, especially as we've a real good man at the Foreign Office. Iwas quite content to leave things in his hands, but then, you see,politically that meant that there was nothing for me to do. I thoughtmatters over and eventually I paired for six months and was supposed
togo off for the benefit of my health. As a matter of fact, I have been inthe Balkan States since Christmas," he added, dropping his voice alittle.

  "What the dickens have you been doing there?"

  "I can't tell you that exactly," Hunterleys replied. "Unfortunately, myenemies are suspicious and they have taken to watching me closely. Theypretty well know what I am going to tell you--that I have been out thereat the urgent request of the Secret Service Department of the presentGovernment. I have been in Greece and Servia and Roumania, and, althoughI don't think there's a soul in the world knows, I have also been in St.Petersburg."

  "But what's it all about?" Richard persisted. "What have you been doingin all these places?"

  "I can only answer you broadly," Hunterleys went on. "There is aperfectly devilish scheme afloat, directed against the old country. Ihave been doing what I can to counteract it. At the last moment, just asI was leaving Sofia for London, by the merest chance I discovered thatthe scene for the culmination of this little plot was to be Monte Carlo,so I made my way round by Trieste, stayed at Bordighera and San Remo fora few days to put people off, and finally turned up here."

  "Well, I'm jiggered!" Lane muttered. "And I thought you were justhanging about for your health or because your wife was here, and werebored to death for want of something to do."

  "On the contrary," Hunterleys assured him, "I was up all night sendingreports home--very interesting reports, too. I got them away all right,but there's no denying the fact that there are certain people in MonteCarlo at the present moment who suspect my presence here, and who wouldgo to any lengths whatever to get rid of me. It isn't the actual harm Imight do, but they have to deal with a very delicate problem and to makea bargain with a very sensitive person, and they are terribly afraidthat my presence here, and a meeting between me and that person, mightrender all their schemes abortive."

  Richard's face was a study in astonishment.

  "Well," he exclaimed, "this beats everything! I've read of such things,of course, but one only half believes them. Right under our very noses,too! Say, what are you going to do about it, Sir Henry?"

  "There is only one thing I can do," Hunterleys replied grimly. "I ambound to keep my place here. They'll drive me out if they can. I amconvinced that the polite warning I have received to leave Monaco thisafternoon because of last night's affair, is part of the conspiracy. Inplain words, I've got to stick it out."

  "But what good are you doing here, anyway?"

  Hunterleys smiled and glanced carefully around the room. They were stillfree from any risk of being overheard.

  "Well," he said, "perhaps you will understand my meaning more clearly ifI tell you that I am the brains of a counterplot. The English SecretService has a permanent agent here under the guise of a newspapercorrespondent, who is in daily touch with me, and he in his turn hasseveral spies at work. I am, however, the dangerous person. The othersare only servants. They make their reports, but they don't understandtheir true significance. If these people could remove me before any oneelse could arrive to take my place, their chances of bringing off theircoup here would be immensely improved."

  "I suppose it's useless for me to ask if there's anything I can do tohelp?" Richard enquired.

  "You've helped already," Hunterleys replied. "I have been nearly threemonths without being able to open my lips to a soul. People call mesecretive, but I feel very human sometimes. I know that not a word ofwhat I have said will pass your lips."

  "Not a chance of it," Richard promised earnestly. "But look here, can'tI do something? If I am not an Englishman, I'm all for the Anglo-Saxons.I hate these foreigners--that is to say the men," he corrected himselfhastily.

  Hunterleys smiled.

  "Well, I was coming to that," he said. "I do feel hideously alone here,and what I would like you to do is just this. I would like you to callat my room at the Hotel de Paris, number 189, every morning at a certainfixed hour--say half-past ten. Just shake hands with me--that's all.Nothing shall prevent my being visible to you at that hour. Under noconsideration whatever will I leave any message that I am engaged orhave gone out. If I am not to be seen when you make your call, somethinghas happened to me."

  "And what am I to do then?"

  "That is the point," Hunterleys continued. "I don't want to bring youtoo deeply into this matter. All that you need do is to make your way tothe English Bank, see Mr. Harrison, the manager, and tell him of yourfruitless visit to me. He will give you a letter to my wife and willknow what other steps to take."

  "Is that all?" Richard asked, a little disappointed. "You don'tanticipate any scrapping, or anything of that sort?"

  "I don't know what to anticipate," Hunterleys confessed, a littlewearily. "Things are moving fast now towards the climax. I promise I'llcome to you for help if I need it. You can but refuse."

  "No fear of my refusing," Richard declared heartily. "Not on your life,sir!"

  Hunterleys rose to his feet with an appreciative little nod. It wasastonishing how cordially he had come to feel towards this young man,during the last few hours.

  "I'll let you off now," he said. "I know you want to look around thetables and see if any of our friends of last night are to be found. I,too, have a little affair which I ought to have treated differently afew minutes ago. We'll meet later."

  Hunterleys strolled back into the rooms. He came almost at once face toface with Draconmeyer, whom he was passing with unseeing eyes.Draconmeyer, however, detained him.

  "I was looking for you, Sir Henry!" he exclaimed. "Can you spare me onemoment?"

  They stood a little on one side, out of the way of the moving throng ofpeople. Draconmeyer was fingering nervously his tie of somewhat vividpurple. His manner was important.

  "Do you happen, Sir Henry," he asked, "to have had any word from theprison authorities to-day?"

  Hunterleys nodded.

  "I have just received a message," he replied. "I understand that the manwith whom I had a struggle last night has received some internalinjuries and is likely to die."

  Draconmeyer's manner became more mysterious. He glanced around the roomas though to be sure that they were not overheard.

  "I trust, Sir Henry," he said, "that you will not think me in any waypresumptuous if I speak to you intimately. I have never had theprivilege of your friendship, and in this unfortunate disagreementbetween your wife and yourself I have been compelled to accept yourwife's point of view, owing to the friendship between Mrs. Draconmeyerand herself. I trust you will believe, however, that I have no feelingsof hostility towards you."

  "You are very kind," Hunterleys murmured.

  His face seemed set in graven lines. For all the effect the other'swords had upon him, he might have been wearing a mask.

  "The law here in some respects is very curious," Draconmeyer continued."Some of the statutes have been unaltered for a thousand years. I havebeen given to understand by a person who knows, that if this man shoulddie, notwithstanding the circumstances of the case, you might findyourself in an exceedingly awkward position. If I might venture,therefore, to give you a word of disinterested advice, I would suggestthat you return to England at once, if only for a week or so."

  His eyes had narrowed. Through his spectacles he was watching intentlyfor the effect of his words. Hunterleys, however, only noddedthoughtfully, as though to some extent impressed by the advice he hadreceived.

  "Very likely you are right," he admitted. "I will discuss the matterwith my wife."

  "She is playing over there," Draconmeyer pointed out. "And while we aretalking in a more or less friendly fashion," he went on earnestly,"might I give you just one more word of counsel? For the sake of thefriendship which exists between our wives, I feel sure you will believethat I am disinterested."

  He paused. Hunterleys' expression was now one of polite interest. Hewaited, however, for the other to continue.

  "I wish that you could persuade Lady Hunterleys to play for somewhatlower stakes."

  Hunterleys was genuin
ely startled for a moment.

  "Do you mean that my wife is gambling beyond her means?" he asked.

  Draconmeyer shrugged his shoulders.

  "How can I tell that? I don't know what her means are, or yours. I onlyknow that she changes mille notes more often than I change louis, and itseems to me that her luck is invariably bad. I think, perhaps, just aword or two from you, who have the right to speak, might be of service."

  "I am very much obliged to you for the hint," Hunterleys said smoothly."I will certainly mention the matter to her."

  "And if I don't see you again," Draconmeyer concluded, watching himclosely, "good-bye!"

  Hunterleys did not appear to notice the tentative movement of theother's hand. He was already on his way to the spot where his wife wassitting. Draconmeyer watched his progress with inscrutable face.Selingman, who had been sitting near, rose and joined him.

  "Will he go?" he whispered. "Will our friend take this very reasonablehint and depart?"

  Draconmeyer's eyes were still fixed upon Hunterleys' slim,self-possessed figure. His forehead was contorted into a frown. Somehowor other, he felt that during their brief interview he had failed toscore; he had felt a subtle, underlying note of contempt in Hunterleys'manner, in his whole attitude.

  "I do not know," he replied grimly. "I only hope that if he stays, weshall find the means to make him regret it!"