CHAPTER XXI
COUNTESS MARAVITZ ENTERTAINS
Upon what small circumstances will great events hinge! It was barelytwenty-four hours later when Ailsa Lorne followed Cleek up to town, andtogether they spent the next few days rioting in shopping. Ailsa was nowpreparing for an event which would put an end to these delays andseparations, and Cleek, set free for the time being from the Yard by anunexpected absence of Mr. Narkom, was as happy as a schoolboy on leavein term-time.
All thoughts of peril from the Apache friends of Margot seemed to havebeen banished, and possibly the knowledge that Ailsa wasshadowed--unknown to her--by two of the Yard's most trusty men wheneverhe himself was not with her had much to do with Cleek's peace of mind.Strangely enough, his customary fears seemed to have been transferred toDollops. Ever since the return of Cleek to London, Dollops had grownnervous and worried. His eyes had a strained, hunted look, and even hisappetite had lost something of its voracity--a sure sign of trouble.Cleek, however, was too happy to note the trouble of his youngsatellite, and thus for the first time in their companionship had causefor regret in view of the event to come.
"Lor lumme, sir, you ain't a-going out again to-night, are ye?" the boysaid, anxiously, one evening, as he noted Cleek about to change againinto evening clothes.
"Why not, you inquisitive young monkey?" rejoined Cleek, amusedly."Didn't I hear you say you were going to the theatre yourself? I'mdining with Countess Maravitz this evening, both Miss Lorne and I.Unless you have any objection," he added, ceremoniously. Then notingDollops' dejected mien, he asked, "What's wrong, old man?"
"Nothing wrong, sir," said the boy, bravely, "only I don't like that'ere Countess Mara--what's-her-name. 'Er eyes flash too much when sheclaps 'em onto yer. Besides, I saw 'er talking to too manyFrench-looking characters last week. I didn't mean for to go and worryyou," he blurted out. "Thought perhaps it was a mistake, but it ain't."
Cleek's face grew grave and he pinched up his chin thoughtfully.
"Countess Maravitz? Are you sure, Dollops?"
The boy nodded. "In the park it was by the Ash-heels statue, I saw hertalking to what was Apaches or I miss my guess. They didn't see me 'cosI nipped round to the back, but I wasn't mistaken nohow. Couldn't yertelephone you was ill, sir?" he added, anxiously.
"No," was the decisive reply. "I'm not going to show the white feather,Dollops. Besides, Miss Lorne will be there, and in the enemies' hands,if you are right. Gad! When will it end!" he added, under his breath.Then he darted into the dressing room again, and it was some ten minutesbefore he emerged, immaculate as ever, to all appearances the customaryfashionable man about town. But there were grim lines about thewell-cut, flexible mouth, and a watchful gleam in the eyes that restoredmore peace to Dollops' heart than he had known for the past week.
"Don't you stay in, old man. You cut along to the Oxford. I'll keep myeyes open, all right. Forearmed is forewarned, thanks to you," saidCleek with a little laugh, as opening his hand he revealed a tinyautomatic revolver, as deadly as it was small.
Dollops' eyes gleamed.
"Golly! That's the stuff to give 'em," he said, approvingly, and afterCleek had driven off in a taxi he, too, sallied forth, but not in thedirection of any theatre. "Not for me, old thing," he soliloquized tothe lamp-post. "Where Mr. Cleek goes is good enough for me. I wonder howthe money goes." Under the light he counted his handful of coins andagain nodded approvingly as he shot along now in the vicinity of WardourStreet.
Meanwhile, Hamilton Cleek's taxi had joined the string of carriages inPark Lane outside the pretty white house which the Countess Maravitz, aPolish count's widow, had taken for the season.
Once inside the flower-filled hall, Cleek searched anxiously amidst theguests trying to catch a glimpse of Ailsa Lorne.
The Countess Maravitz had evinced a strong liking for her, bringing, soshe said, a verbal introduction from Mrs. Hawkesley--once LadyChepstow--whose son both Ailsa and Cleek had saved from imminent peril.
Cleek's senses, quickened by the information given him by Dollops,noticed almost mechanically that although the number of guests was largethey consisted mainly of men. There were very few women, and such aswere present were decidedly of foreign aspect. Polish, Belgian--andFrench. Cleek's heart sank and then pounded violently as his eyes restedon a slender, white-gowned figure shaking hands with their hostess. Itwas Ailsa, and as several of the guests closed round the group it seemedalready to Cleek's strained nerves as if they were closing in on the onewoman in the world.
A feeling came over him that right well had they played into theirenemies' hands. Would they live to emerge safe? Cleek's fingerstightened instinctively on the pistol in his pocket. Almost he feltinclined to dash forward and at its point to bear Ailsa out of thehouse into safety. He blamed himself for his blindness--blamed evenDollops for not speaking out before.
Quietly and as unconcernedly as usual, however, to all outward mien, hesauntered across the great ballroom, and gently insinuated his way toAilsa, who greeted him with that smile of infinite trust that alwayspierced his very heart. The thought that her life should be in dangerbecause of him was one of his greatest sorrows.
Giving her his arm and in the buzz of talk and laughter, as theycommenced to dance a few minutes later, he contrived to whisper:"Dearest, be brave! I fear we are in danger. Keep as close to me aspossible and make some excuse to leave early. Laugh now if you can. Ifeel sure that that woman is watching us!"
"That woman" was the Polish countess, and she was indeed watching them.Just then, whether impelled by the signal of Ailsa's paling and flushingface, or because she actually read the movements of Cleek's lips, sheglided over to them as they came to a standstill at one side of theballroom.
"Ah, _mes amis_, but you dance so beautifully! You are tired, eh? MissLorne, come, do me the pleasure of seeing some pictures of mycountrymen. They came to-day!"
She opened a small and almost hidden door behind her and, not knowingfor the moment what else to do, Ailsa, with Cleek close behind,followed her as she stepped through the doorway. The room was almostdark, and, blinded by the sudden transition from the brilliantly lightedballroom, Ailsa stopped short, but too late! The door closed behind themwith a little vicious click, and as the Countess gave a low laugh ofinfinite triumph she switched on the lights. The sudden blaze revealedthe presence of half a dozen men, guards evidently, and as Cleekrecognized the familiar brand of his implacable enemies, the ParisApaches, his heart sank.
"My pictures, sir! They came but to-day! _Our_ clansmen, yours and mine,at your service, Cracksman," and she made an ironic curtsey in front ofCleek, his face gray with anger at the trick, his lips set in a thinline.
Ailsa clutched swiftly at his arm. She, too, realized their danger andwas prepared to fight with him to the bitter end.
"Enough of this play-acting, Countess," he said, harshly. "You seekqueer companions for one of noble birth, but I have been blind indeed."
"Ah, yes, indeed, most impeccable of detectives," she mocked, "and nowyour eyes are to be opened, eh?" She stamped her foot, and, at what wasvery obviously a signal, the men with one swift movement seized Cleek'shand even as it clutched the tiny pistol, while others sprang from thedarkness behind them and seized Ailsa. In less than a minute the twowere separated, helpless, impotent in the hands of their captors.
"It is regrettable, sir," said the Countess more gently, "but I have toobey my orders. When the Queen arrives----!"
"Margot!" cried Cleek. "I might have known! Her influence iseverywhere!" Then, seeing that resistance was vain, he submitted to theinevitable with as good a grace as possible. He recognized that bothAilsa's and his own safety lay in the hands of Margot alone, and nothingwas to be gained by exhausting either his breath or his strength againsta dozen men trained in the service of the most desperate band in Europe.
In secret anguish he watched them bind Ailsa in a huge carved chair atone end of the room, while he was subjected to the same indignity at theother, and again he cursed
his stupidity.
It took but a few moments to bind them, and barely had the men steppedback when a knock sounded and the door opened to admit a figure only toofamiliar to Cleek, and to the men, who saluted with real or mocksolemnity. For this was Margot, Queen of the Apaches.
"Good, sister! You have indeed succeeded where I failed," said Margot,as her eyes took in the scene. As Cleek noticed the hatred in the glanceshe directed at the serene face of Ailsa Lorne, his courage almostfailed.
As the woman who had once held so much influence over his life advancedtoward Cleek, her face became a mask, and even he, trained to read themotives of all classes of men, was at a loss to tell what emotions wereat play behind her steely eyes. Used to her letting her uncontrolledLatin temperament have full sway, this was a new Margot, and his mastermind was puzzled.
"I regret this step"--her voice was hard--"but we have sworn an oaththat you shall return to the fold. When that happens we will do with youas we will: accept you back into the band, or subject you to a lingeringdeath--both are in our power--but return you must. We have so decreedit."
"I----" began Cleek, indignantly, but she raised her hand for silence,and went calmly on:
"There are many ways we could force you to return and, as for our ownsafety you must be rendered impotent to work against us, we hope thatyou will not make it necessary for us to use the one we have chosen----"
A cry of horror burst from Cleek's lips as Margot glanced significantlyat Ailsa Lorne, and the meaning of that glance dawned on his senses.
It was not his life that was in danger, but hers, the woman who inMargot's thoughts blocked the way to his return to his old life--and toher. Broken at last by the horror of it, a string of pleas andadjurations came from Cleek's lips.
Margot listened with a scornful smile upon her lips.
"The woman dies, Cracksman, unless you consent to return to Paris withus to-night."
"Why not kill her first, Queen Margot?" put in the slow, seductive voiceof one of the men behind them, and Cleek strove impotently at his bonds.
He could not let Ailsa die, as die she would, if he refused. And if heconsented, she would be lost to him forever.
It was the cruellest dilemma in which man had ever been placed, and hecried aloud in agony. Margot turned on her heel and dismissed with a fewwords the grim, waiting members of her band.
"Return to your guests, madame," she said to the Countess whose realidentity Cleek would have given much to know. "You have done your workwell, and we will not forget. Keep the orchestra playing, and if thesound of a shot reaches you, let no one open the door. Have a carriageat the side gate, and give orders for it to be driven where bidden. Thatis all, I think. I will write to you for the rest."
The door shut softly and the three were alone!
"You have ten minutes to decide!" Margot drew out a watch and arevolver, which Cleek knew only too well she would not hesitate to use.
"My dear--my dear, forgive me, but you must be saved, whatever happens,"he groaned. "And----"
"Death would be preferable to life without you," said Ailsa. "Even ifthey kill me, they cannot force you to rejoin them. Besides, they wouldnot dare. The police----"
Margot smiled. "Brave words, Miss Ailsa Lorne, but we care not that forthese pigs of English police," and she snapped her fingers.
Again Cleek turned, and then a sharp knock sounded at the door.
"A man just come from Paris, with some special news," said the voice ofthe Countess.
"I will see him," was the curt reply, "but do not let any one come nearthe room afterward."
The door opened and shut as as desperate looking a character as onecould imagine entered with a swaggering mien, his cap pulled low overhis eyes. How he could have come through the London streets Cleek foundhimself wondering, in spite of his own fearful predicament.
"You have a special message for me?" said Margot, concealing therevolver in her hand.
There was dead silence. The messenger evidently was listening to thesound of the retreating footsteps.
"Be queek. I haf not time----" she went on in English as if she wishedAilsa Lorne to know how little she regarded her presence.
"Not 'arf I ain't, lady!" was the astonishing reply, as Dollops hurledhimself forward.
With an exclamation Margot whipped out the revolver again. A shot rangout, but Dollops was too quick. Like a veritable human catapult he flunghimself on the figure of the woman, the impetus carrying her down on theslippery floor, her head striking against the carved table leg. Then allwas silence.
"God bless you, Dollops!" breathed Cleek, as the lad bounded over andslashed furiously at the binding ropes.
"Quick, sir! Miss Ailsa, put my coat on. Gawd bless yer both, and nowlet's get out before this beauty wakes up, or shall I finish her, sir?"
"No, no," said Cleek, catching Ailsa in a fervent embrace while Dollopspicked up the revolver which had fallen from Margot's hand.
"Through here, Dollops. There's a side door and a carriage she said."
Quickly the three stepped out into a deserted corridor. Even if theCountess had heard the shot, she had evidently obeyed orders. Not a soulwas in sight, and darting down the corridor to the door at the end, theyfound it led out to a small gate in the high surrounding wall.
Outside there waited a carriage, and Cleek, muttering a well-rememberedpassword, bade the driver take them to Charing Cross. But when thatindividual drew up at the station and a porter opened the carriage door,its passengers had strangely vanished.
But it was not until Cleek had seen Ailsa safe in her own room that hedared give a sigh of relief.
"Good boy, Dollops," he said, softly, as that individual hovered overthem both. "How did you manage it?"
"Looked himportant, sir, and swore at the footman. That's the way totreat their sort, sir. Works hevery time."
"Maybe you're right, boy," said Cleek.