CHAPTER XII.

  A "'MELLICAN LADY'S" LITTLE TRICK.

  In such an emergency, when every moment has its value, to think is toact with Richard Stanhope. And time just now is very precious to him.

  This importunate fellow is determined to solve the mystery of hisidentity, to see him unmask. Ten minutes spent in an attempt to evadehim will be moments of fate for the ambitious detective.

  And, for the sake of his patroness, he cannot leave the house at therisk of being followed. This difficulty must be overcome and at once.

  These thoughts flash through his mind as if by electricity; and then, asthe Celestial approaches, he turns languidly toward the open window andrests his head against the casement, as if in utter weariness.

  "'Mellican lady slick?" queries the masker solicitously; "'Mellican ladywalm? Ching Ling flannee, flannee."

  And raising his Japanese fan, he begins to ply it vigorously.

  Mentally confiding "Ching Ling," to a region where fans are needed andare not, Stanhope sways, as if about to faint, and motions toward areclining chair.

  The mask propels it close to the window, and the detective sinks intoit, with a long drawn sigh.

  Then, plying his fan with renewed vigor, the Celestial murmurs tenderly:

  "'Mellican lady slick?"

  "Confound you," thinks Stanhope; "I will try and be too _slick_ foryou." Then, for the first time, he utters a word for the Celestial'shearing. Moving his head restlessly he articulates, feebly:

  "The heat--I feel--faint!" Then, half rising from the chair, seeming tomake a last effort, he reels and murmuring: "Water--water," sinks backpresenting the appearance of utter lifelessness.

  "Water!" The Celestial, utterly deceived, drops the fan and his dialectat the same moment, and muttering: "She has fainted!" springs to thedoor.

  It is just what Stanhope had hoped for. When the Celestial returns withthe water, the fainting lady will have disappeared.

  But Fate seems to have set her face against Stanhope. The Celestial doesnot go. At the very door he encounters a servant, none other than thegirl, Millie, who, having for some time lost sight of little Daisy, isnow wandering from room to room in quest of the child.

  "Girl," calls the masker authoritatively, "get some water quick; a ladyhas fainted."

  Uttering a startled: "Oh, my!" Millie skurries away, and the Celestialreturns to the side of the detective, who seems just now to be playing alosing game.

  But it is only seeming. The case, grown desperate, requires a desperateremedy, and the Goddess of Liberty resolves to do what, probably, no"'Mellican Lady" ever did before.

  Through his drooping eyelids he notes the approach of the Celestial,sees him fling aside his fan to bend above him, and realizes the factthat he is about to be unmasked.

  The Celestial bends nearer still. His hands touch the draped head,searching for the secret that releases the tightly secured mask. It is asentimental picture, but suddenly the scene changes. Sentiment is put torout, and absurdity reigns.

  With indescribable swiftness, the body of the Goddess darts forward, andthe head comes in sudden contact with the stomach of the too-devotedCelestial, who goes down upon the floor in a state of collapse, whileStanhope, bounding to his feet and gathering up his trailing draperies,springs through the open window!

  When Millie returns with water and other restoratives, she finds only adisarranged masker sitting dolefully upon the floor, with one handpressed against his stomach and the other supporting his head; still toomuch dazed and bewildered to know just how he came there.

  When he has finally recovered sufficiently to be able to give a shrewdguess as to the nature of the calamity that so suddenly overcame him, heis wise enough to see that the victory sits perched on the banner of thevanished Goddess, and to retire from the field permanently silent uponthe subject of "spicy flirtations" and mysterious ladies.

  Meantime, Stanhope having alighted, with no particular damage to himselfor his drapery, upon a balcony which runs half the length of the house,is creeping silently along that convenient causeway toward thegentlemen's dressing-room, situated at its extreme end.

  Foreseeing some possible difficulty in leaving the house unnoticed whileattired in so conspicuous a costume, the Goddess had come prepared witha long black domino, which had been confided to Mr. Follingsbee, who, atthe proper moment, was to fetch it from the gentlemen's dressing-room,array Stanhope in its sombre folds, and then see him from the house, andsafely established in the carriage which the detective had arranged tohave in waiting to convey him to the scene of the Raid.

  Owing to his little encounter with the Celestial, Stanhope knows himselfcut off from communication with Mr. Follingsbee, and he now creepstoward the dressing-room wholly intent upon securing the domino andquitting the house in the quickest manner possible.

  As he approaches the window, however, he realizes that there is anotherlion in his path.

  "Stanhope, bounding to his feet, springs through the openwindow"--page 99.]

  The room is already occupied; he hears two voices speaking in guardedtones.

  "Be quick, Harvey; some one may come in a moment."

  "I have locked the door."

  "But it must be opened at the first knock. There must be no appearanceof mystery, no room for suspicion, Harvey."

  At the sound of a most familiar voice, Richard Stanhope starts, andflushes with excitement underneath his mask. Then he presses closeagainst the window and peers in.

  Two men are rapidly exchanging garments there; the one doffing a uniformsuch as is worn by an officer of Her Majesty's troops, the other passingover, in exchange for said uniform, the suit of a common policeman.

  With astonished eyes and bated breath, Stanhope recognizes the two. VanVernet, his friend, and Harvey, a member of the police force, who isVernet's staunch admirer and chosen assistant when such assistance canbe of use.

  How came Vernet at this masquerade, of all others? And what are theyabout to do?

  He is soon enlightened, for Van Vernet, flushed with his success,present and prospective, utters a low triumphant laugh as he dons thepoliceman's coat, and turns to readjust his mask.

  "Ah! Harvey," he says gayly; "if you ever live to execute as fine a bitof strategy as I did to-night, you may yet be Captain of police. Ha! ha!this most recent battle between America and England has turned out badlyfor America--all because she _will_ wear petticoats!"

  America! England! petticoats! Stanhope can scarcely suppress anexclamation as suddenly light flashes upon his mental horizon.

  "I've done a good thing to-night, Harvey," continues Vernet withunusual animation, "and I've got the lead on a sharp man. If I can holdmy own to-night, you'll never again hear of Van Vernet as only '_one_ ofour best detectives.' Is your mask adjusted? All right, then. Now,Harvey, time presses; there's a big night's work before me. You are sureyou understand everything?"

  "Oh, perfectly; _my_ work's easy enough."

  "And mine begins to be difficult. Unlock the door, Harvey, I must beoff." Then turning sharply he adds, as if it were an after-thought: "Bythe way, if you happen to set your eye on a Goddess of Liberty, justnote her movements; I would give something to know when she contrives toleave the house and," with a dry laugh, "and _how_."

  In another moment the dressing-room is deserted.

  And then Richard Stanhope steps lightly through the window. With rapidmovements he singles out his own dark domino, gathers his coloreddraperies close about him, and flings it over them, drawing the hooddown about his head, and the long folds around his person. Then he goesout from the dressing-rooms, hurries down the great stairway, andpassing boldly out by the main entrance, glances up and down the street.

  Only a few paces away, a dark form is hurrying toward a group ofcarriages standing opposite the mansion, and Stanhope, in an instant, isgliding in the same direction. As the man places a foot upon the step ofa carriage that has evidently awaited his coming, Stanhope glides sonear that he distinctly hear
s the order, given in Vernet's low voice:

  "To the X--street police station. Drive fast."

  A trifle farther away another carriage, its driver very alert andexpectant, stands waiting.

  Having heard Vernet's order, Stanhope hurries to this carriage, springswithin, and whispers to the driver:

  "The old place, Jim; and your quickest time!"

  Then, as the wheels rattle over the pavement, the horses speeding awayfrom this fashionable quarter of the city, a strange transformationscene goes on within the carriage, which, evidently, has been preparedfor this purpose. The Goddess of Liberty is casting her robes, and longbefore the carriage has reached its destination, she has disappeared,there remaining, in her stead, a personage of fantastic appearance. Heis literally clothed in rags, and plentifully smeared with dirt; histattered garments are decorated with bits of tinsel, and scraps ofbright color flutter from his ragged hat, and flaunt upon his breast;there is a monstrous patch over his left eye and a mass of disfiguringblotches covers his left cheek; a shock of unkempt tow-colored hairbristles upon his head, and his forehead and eyes are half hidden bythick dangling elf-locks.

  If this absurd apparition bears not the slightest resemblance to theGoddess of Liberty, it resembles still less our friend, RichardStanhope.

  Suddenly, and in an obscure street, the carriage comes to a halt, and asits fantastically-attired occupant descends to the ground, the firststroke of midnight sounds out upon the air.