CHAPTER XXIII

  IN THE GRIP OF AN ENEMY

  The appearance of the third man was as disconcerting as it wasmystifying. That he was sleuthing the other two was clear from thestealthy manner of his approach and the care he displayed in takingadvantage of every scrap of shelter. He was an adept at the work. Morethan once the men looked round to make sure they were not followed; andeach time, as if by instinct, the other had gone to cover.

  As they reached the warehouse the couple became even more cautious, andthe spy did not venture to show so much as the tip of his nose. With alast look round, they opened the door quickly and disappeared into thebuilding.

  I dared not show myself, of course, until I knew what the spy would do;and I felt extremely uncomfortable as I waited.

  It was some minutes before he ventured any nearer; and then he came downthe lane with cat-like stealth and absolutely noiseless tread, and atfirst did what I had done, listened intently for any sounds within thewarehouse.

  Presently he stepped back a pace and scrutinized the front, and thenturned his attention to the adjoining building. While doing this, hecame right up to the rubbish heap behind which I lay; and a few secondslater began to glance about him as if for a place in which to hide.

  The heap appeared to suggest itself to him in the same light as it hadto me; and I saw that discovery was inevitable.

  I scrambled to my feet, therefore, not willing to be taken at adisadvantage; and without a sound he turned on the instant and bolted upthe lane.

  I was completely mystified by this sudden flight. He was a spy, ofcourse; but whether he had been set on by the police, or was shadowingsome suspected members of the band, I had no means of even guessing.

  Nor had I the time. If he was from the police he would soon be backwith help; while if he was one of the men, he would carry the news tohis friends that some one else was dangerously interested in theproceedings.

  It was clear that something was going on inside the place, and I had tofind the means of ascertaining whether Althea's father was there.

  My previous visit had shown me that access to "W. Mischen's" premisescould be obtained without much trouble from the water front; andalthough I was by no means a professional housebreaker, I had nodifficulty in finding a way into the unoccupied warehouse.

  One of the windows was unfastened, and raising this cautiously Isqueezed through. It was a large empty room, and as dark as a chimney;but I felt all round the walls until I came to a door and shutting thatbehind me I struck a match and found the way out on to the wharf.

  Then I had a stroke of luck. Tied to the wharf on the opposite sidefrom "W. Mischen's" was a small boat with the oars in it; and,perceiving the possible value of having a means of retreat by the riverin case of trouble, I decided to borrow this and fasten it in readinessfor use in emergency. I hauled it along to "W. Mischen's" landing stageand made it fast.

  The night was very still. The silence on the river was unbroken exceptfor the lapping of the water as it eddied past, and the occasional creakof the small boat as it gritted against the wharf.

  On my former visit I had noted the position of the two doors openingfrom the building to the wharf. One was from the warehouse portion; theother from the offices; and the latter was unfastened. I would havegiven a good deal to have known whether this was due to the carelessnessof the obliging young clerk, or whether it had been used that night bythose who were in the building. If they were expecting any fresharrivals by water the discovery of my boat might be very awkward.

  Still I could not stay to count the risks, so I pushed the door open andentered. I remembered that there was a flight of stone steps leading tothe upper part; but before going up, I crept into the offices and madesure that the men I sought were not there.

  I found them empty, and retraced my steps and crept up the stairs,carefully feeling each step with my hands as I went. At the top the waywas blocked by a door.

  No light showed from the other side of it, however; and after listeningintently, I turned the handle very slowly, pausing at each creak itgave, until it yielded. It was another big barn of a room with windowslooking out over the river.

  My eyes were now getting accustomed to the darkness, and, by the aid ofthe very faint light from the windows, I made out a heap of empty sacksin one corner. I was crossing towards these on tiptoe, when I heard themurmur of voices.

  Glancing in what I judged to be the direction of the sound I saw a lightthrough the crack of a door; and after a pause I stole over the sacksand concealed myself among them.

  It proved a lucky step. I had just lain down under them when the dooropened and a man came out.

  I recognized him as the more reckless of the couple who had been atZiegler's with the Baron on the night of the murder.

  The light from the door enabled me to see more of the place. The roomfrom which he came was at the end farthest from the stairs by which Ihad come up; and between that and the stairs there was another door. Ijudged that there were two offices each communicating with the bigwarehouse and probably with one another.

  This discovery was to prove of much value a little later on.

  "Hush!" called some one from the room at the noise he made.

  "To the devil with your hushing," he muttered with an oath. "Who's tohear?" and he opened the door leading to the stairway and went down.

  I had had ample proof of his recklessness before; and I knew that ifthere were any others like him in the company, my life would not beworth a pinch of snuff should they discover me. I lay as still as thesacks which covered me, therefore.

  Those in the room were of a much more cautious nature, however, than thefellow who had just left them; and, although they spoke together, theirtones were so low that I could not make out what they said. Occasionallya single word would reach me; but I listened in vain for any indicationthat the Baron was among them.

  In my eagerness to ascertain what was being said I was about to riskcrawling to the door when I heard the man returning, and soon learntthen why the door leading to the wharf had been left open.

  "Not a sign of them," he said, as he entered, to the others. "I expectthe plan has missed fire. If I thought he was still fooling us, I'dshoot the old fool off hand." He left the door wide open, and I couldhear distinctly.

  "Not so loud, Gassen," said some one hurriedly. "Your voice carries so."

  "I wish it would carry to that cursed Englishman and bring him here tothe old lunatic's rescue."

  "We have no proof. It's only your guess work."

  "I want no more proof than we have. Who else was likely to betray us?Tell me that. Who else would have been able to get that cursed newsinto the papers and have the plans about the ship changed? Wasn't he anewspaper man of some sort? Tell me that. And how else could he getthe news except from that blabbering old fool in the corner there whenhe was at his house."

  "The news came from Paris."

  "Paris be hanged," he cried fiercely with an oath. "How could they knowin Paris if some one here hadn't told them from Berlin. Tell me that."

  There was a long pause during which one of the men struck a match andbegan to smoke.

  So Althea's father was there all the time, and this meeting hadapparently been held for my punishment rather than in connexion with themeditated outrage. He was suspected of having betrayed everything tome; and my trick of getting the news published had been guessed.

  "We shall have to give it up for to-night, Gassen," said the man who hadspoken before. "They have failed to get him to come."

  "Why don't they come back and say so then?"

  "They may have been stopped in some way. Or perhaps they came while wewere away."

  "Schmidt has been here all the time taking care of the old fool there.Or are you another of the white-livered ones?"

  "I've been here all through, of course. You needn't talk like that tome," said a man who had not spoken before.
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  Gassen laughed. "I shall say what I please and you can do what youlike."

  I wished with all my heart that the man would have started a quarrel;but he appeared to be afraid, and held his tongue.

  "I don't mean to stay here all night," said the former speaker, whom Ijudged by his voice to be an older man than the others. "It isn'tsafe."

  "What will you do with our precious 'leader' then?" was the reply with avery scornful reference to the unfortunate Baron.

  "He can be kept here. There's plenty of room in the cellars."

  "If you do go, we shan't want more than enough room to bury him. Youcan take my word for that," was the retort with a brutal laugh.

  "I won't have any violence here, Gassen."

  "Then you'd better stop and prevent it. I shall keep my word. But youknow that pretty well by this time, I fancy."

  The man addressed shifted uneasily and his chair scraped on the floor.

  "You'll do what I say, Gassen," he replied with an effort to putauthority into his voice.

  "Then you'll have to say what I say. That's all. I haven't come hereto-night for fun. Do you suppose there will be no violence, as you callit, if they succeed in persuading the Englishman to come to the rescueof the old dotard? Tell me that."

  "Nothing must be done here any way."

  Gassen swore contemptuously. "Well, it doesn't matter. You haven'tseen him and I have; and you can take it from me that he isn't the manto take what's in store for him here without putting up a fight for hislife."

  This unexpected tribute to my fighting instincts was flattering perhaps;but I knew what lay behind it; and it came out the next instant.

  "I may as well tell you what I mean to do. If they do get him here, Ishall shoot him straight away without wasting any time in talk."

  "You're too reckless. You'll get us all into trouble."

  "Reckless?" he repeated with a curt laugh. "I'm not reckless enough togive him a chance at me."

  It was a novel experience to listen to the plans for one's own murder;and I found it sufficiently depressing. I knew that the fellow was quitecapable of making his words good; and that when we two did meet, itwould be a question of which of us was the handier with his weapon.

  That the others were against the violence he threatened with suchsinister bluntness, would not help me in the least. He would not lettheir reluctance stand in the way of his purpose. He had persuadedhimself that I was the traitor who had baulked their plans; and wasfully set upon taking my life in revenge.

  My plight was indeed about as desperate as it could be; and what to doconstituted the toughest problem I had ever had to face.

  There were three courses. One was to sneak out of the place and fetchthe police, taking the risk of what might happen to Althea's father whenthey came or in the interval before I could get them there. Another wasto wait where I was, trusting to my luck to prevent my being discovered.In this event I should have to run the risk of allowing the other menwho had gone for me to return and to the hope that the milder counselsof the elder man would prevail in regard to the Baron. The third wasthe bolder course of facing the three men there and then before theparty was enlarged.

  I decided at once against the first. The delay might prove fatal toAlthea's father; for the man, Gassen, was quite capable of knocking himon the head or shooting him when he found that he was to be baulked ofhis revenge on me.

  The same objection applied to the second alternative. And even morestrongly. He might insist upon being left in charge of the old man; andin that event I could not entertain a doubt that Althea would never seeher father again alive.

  The third course appeared at first sight the most dangerous; but was notso in reality. There were only three men in the room beyond; and two ofthese were opposed to Gassen's policy of violence. And with him I needhave no scruples; and should have the advantage of surprise.

  I was very unwilling to take life; and the reluctance was so strongthat, although I felt perfectly justified in creeping up to the room andshooting him before he saw me, I could not persuade myself to do it.But I would shoot him with no more compunction than I would have shot adog, the instant he made any sign of an attempt to harm me.

  I decided therefore that the bolder course was also the safer; and Ibegan to edge myself free from the sacks under which I lay concealed.In doing this I made enough noise to attract the attention of the men.

  "What's that?" It was Gassen's voice and he sprang to his feet.

  "I heard nothing," said the other man.

  Gassen came out and stood listening. I could have shot him then andended the affair; but my reluctance to kill a man in cold blood stayedmy hand.

  "It must be the boat," he murmured, turning back for a moment into theroom. "I'll go down and see. They may want my help; and we may be ableto use your river scheme after all."

  "Don't do anything rash, Gassen. A shot out there in the night wouldrouse the whole city. For God's sake, man, be cautious."

  "Oh, to hell with your caution," he muttered as he came out again andwent to the stairs. "If I don't come back, you'll know I've taken himdown the river."

  In a second I had another scheme and one that pleased me better. Theonly really dangerous man there was Gassen; and I resolved to follow himand tackle him alone.

  He all but closed the door of the room after him, and I slipped from myshelter and crept as noiselessly as I could after him.

  One of the others heard me, however, and just as I reached the head ofthe stairs he came out to listen.

  "I'm sure I heard something. They must have come. Should we go down? Iam afraid of Gassen's rashness."

  "Oh, leave him to himself." This was from the man whom Gassen hadcalled Schmidt and who had spoken so little; and at that his companionreturned to the room.

  I crept on down the stairs, pausing now and then in the half hope thatGassen would return, when I should have a double advantage in myattack--surprise and a greater height from which to strike.

  But I reached the door leading to the water front before I saw him.

  He was standing on the edge of the wharf, his figure silhouetted sharplyagainst the sheen of the gliding river, shading his eyes as he lookedanxiously up stream for some sign of those he was awaiting soimpatiently.

  I was on the point of making my rush for him, when he turned and lookedstraight in my direction. I thought he saw me and held my breath inexpectation of his attack. But I had presence of mind enough to remainas still as a stone figure.

  Then he turned away; and I concluded that I had been too deep in theshadow of the doorway for his eyes to pierce the darkness.

  He moved off toward the end of the wharf, and then I saw him start andstare down intently at the river below.

  He had discovered the boat which I had fastened there, and he stoopeddown to examine it closely. Intent upon this he did not hear my steps asI crossed toward him, and when he rose I was close to him and had himcovered with my revolver.

  His surprise was so complete that he all but staggered backwards intothe river. "The Englishman!" he exclaimed with a foul oath, as his handwent to his pocket.

  "You won't move," I said in a low tense tone.

  He recovered his coolness on the instant. "You daren't fire here," saidhe.

  "You'll see that, if you move."

  "How did you get here?"

  "Turn round with your back to me."

  "What for? What do you want to do?"

  "Do as I tell you. Quick."

  For a moment he hesitated whether to try the risk of a fight for it; butwith a shrug of the shoulders he obeyed.

  "Now get down into that boat."

  He paused again; and again obeyed.

  "Throw those oars out here," I rapped out sternly.

  I knew he had a revolver on him and watched him like a lynx. "Well,it's a fine night for the river," he said carelessly as he picked up oneof the oars and tossed it on the wharf. I went a little nearer to theedge to
watch him more closely as he picked up the other; not for asecond suspecting his intention.

  "Same place as the other?" he asked in the same indifferent tone.

  "Don't fool with me," I cried.

  But he did. Just as he seemed about to toss the oar to the side of theother, he swung it round and thrust it violently into the pit of mystomach.

  A fool in my unpreparedness I staggered, my pistol dropped from my hand,and the next instant he was back on the wharf with his hand at mythroat.