The Broken Thread Read online

rifle at 800 yards, or a right and left among thebirds in stubble or turnips.

  This was the form and frame hidden behind such a mask of bored mannerand faultless attire as could only be assumed by a Scarlet Pimpernel inhis leisure moments. He was truly a man to be feared, and DoctorMalsano had learnt by bitter experience to run when his little, astuteenemy loomed on the horizon. The recognition had been mutual at thetime of the stumble, and Herrion knew the doctor was not staying in theHotel Royal for the cause of philanthropy. When the incident thatproduced the recognition had ceased to attract attention, the detectivedodged through a service door used by the staff, and, making his wayalong corridors, knocked at an office door. Responding to theinvitation to enter, he said to the rotund, bald-headed little man,ensconced in a big chair and surrounded by a maze of books and papers,"Forgive me, signor, for my brusque intrusion. Have you the Baronessvon Sassniltz staying in your hotel?"

  "Ah, inspector! It is you. I thought it was what you call ze greasedlightning. I don't know whether the baroness you speak of is staying inthe hotel, but I will inquire," and, ringing a bell, the jovial littlemanager continued: "You see at Nice we have so many barons, counts, zeEnglish lords and people with titles, and at the Royal,"--this he saidwith a whimsical smile--"you see, Mr Inspector, we have the _creme dela creme_ of what you call the _haut-ton_, the best society."

  In response to a bell a man in livery entered, and, with the deferenceof an inferior, asked for instructions. The manager, with an austeremanner that contrasted with his previous geniality, ordered: "Go to thebureau and ask whether the baroness--what is the name, Mr Herrion?"The man started and looked surreptitiously at the detective. Herrionfrowned and said, "The Baroness von Sassniltz, signor."

  As the man closed the door to go on his errand, the inspector said: "I'msorry you disclosed my identity to that man. Who is he? Has he beenlong in the service of the hotel?"

  "Ah, I'm very sorry, Mr Herrion. I did not think it would matter downhere in this old office of mine. Again, Mr Herrion, I see my mistake.I am sorry."

  The messenger returned, and said, "The Baroness von Sassniltz is stayingin the hotel, signor, with her maid, the Fraulein Schneider."

  "Thank you," and, as the man glared at the detective again, the managerrepeated, "You can go."

  Herrion followed him to the door and proceeded to talk to the manager.Suddenly wheeling, the officer opened the door and hauled from withoutthe messenger.

  "You were listening to our talk outside," he said to the man, andturning to the manager, asked: "Do you know this man, signor? I don'tthink you will find him a very good servant for such an aristocratichotel as the Royal."

  The little manager rose from his chair and said furiously: "Go! go atonce, this hotel is no place for a man like you. Go! I tell you, go,and I will see to it that you do not stay in Nice."

  The man attempted to explain, but the manager of a Riviera hotel is adespot in such matters, and the good name of a hotel must not besmirched by an inferior servant.

  When the man had gone, Herrion continued his talk: "The Baroness vonSassniltz is very wealthy, signor, and she carries with her jewellerythat is almost priceless. These people who will carry jewellery aroundwith them are a great trouble to us. Before I intruded in your office Isaw a man in the foyer, who is one of the most accomplished thieves inEurope. He is not here for a good purpose. That messenger whom Ihauled, _sans ceremonie_, into the room, is, I have reason to believe,in league with this other criminal. I have seen a man skulking aroundat night in the costume of what might be the Quartier Latin of Paris,but he looks more like an Apache, and I strongly suspect this is thesame man."

  "_Ma foi_! Mr Herrion, but if that is so, I and my proprietors areprofoundly grateful to you."

  "Well it is, in some sense, my duty to prevent crime as well as to huntdown criminals and bring them to justice. I am not in Nice for thisparticular piece of work, but I saw a chance of nipping this man'splans, and I hope I have done it. The rest of the work I leave to you.Good day, signor!"

  When Herrion had left, the rotund little man leant back in his chair andlaughed to himself.

  "_Ma foi_! But when I was in London the crooks of Soho, Hatton Garden,and the other quarters used to laugh at the English detectives, withtheir big boots, pipe, and what they call a skull cap. But, this manHerrion, he's what they call `in another class.'"

  CHAPTER TEN.

  THE MYSTERY OF SOME DISAPPEARANCES.

  The doctor, after his encounter with Herrion, hastily ascended the mainstaircase and made his way to his room. Gilda was in the foyer talkingto Sir Raife Remington. With a surprising agility, the doctor flung hisbelongings into his valises and then scribbled a note. Ringing the bellhe called for his bill, at the same time instructing the waiter to handthe note to Miss Tempest, whom he would find in the foyer. "Call MissTempest," he added, "by saying that I wish to speak to her. Don't handher the note in the presence of Sir Raife."

  The waiter, with a profound bow, withdrew to obey the instructions,slightly elevating his eyebrows.

  A few more instructions and Doctor Malsano left the hotel, ostensiblyfor a stroll along the Promenade des Anglais. He soon doubled histracks and secured a motor-car. Seated in this he donned motor gogglesof the mask type, attached to a jaunty looking cap. A gaily-colouredsilk muffler from his overcoat pocket, with the other alterations he hadeffected in his room, completed a transformation that had converted thesombre personality into a somewhat flashy-looking tourist. The modestluggage was easily negotiated, and a trail of white dust was all thatremained of the courtly old doctor.

  Gilda's conversation with Raife was interrupted by the arrival of thediscreet waiter, who invited Miss Tempest to meet Doctor Malsanoupstairs. Raife looked lovingly at her retreating figure. As shedisappeared behind a marble pillar he saw the waiter hand her a note,which she hastily secreted in her bodice.

  His heart gave a desponding throb. What was this fresh mystery? Whywas the progress of their strange courtship to be jarred by a series ofuncanny surprises?

  He rose from his seat and crossing the foyer glanced up as hertranscendingly beautiful but fragile form swept with a stately gracealong the landing. She stood for a moment and started to read the note.Then, catching sight of Raife, she lowered it to her side and continuedher journey upwards. More torture. Why did she disguise the note?What can have been the cryptic contents? Raife was enthralled with thesubtle charms of this wonderful woman creature. Yet all his judgmentkept telling him that their course could only lead to tragedy. A scoreof times a day he tore his soul in shreds by asking himself fatuousquestions, to which he could find no answer. He was impelled with thefascination of a will-o'-the-wisp, and Gilda was the spirit that dancedbefore him night and day.

  Gilda reached the retirement of her room, and then read the note, whichsaid:

  "H of S Y is here. I have gone. Join me as soon as you can at C--. Ifwe fail to meet there or at B--, meet L in a week or two."

  Haunted and hunted, deprived of all real companionship save that of thisconspirator criminal who called himself her uncle, Gilda's couragefailed for a brief while.

  Falling on to the lounge, covered with dainty dimity, which was at thefoot of the bed she must soon vacate, this fragile girl, whose nerveshad stood her in good stead so many times, sobbed.

  Yes! hunted from place to place. Hunted by fear of a Nemesis thatpursued unrelentingly. When the entrance hall was practically desertedand the dining halls were crowded, a tall figure, cloaked and shroudedin a motor veil, crept down the stairs and entered a car in waiting.Into the mysterious night, quite slowly and silently, the car forged itsway. Gilda did not know where she was going and had merely said to thechauffeur: "Drive on slowly until I tell you to turn."

  The fiendish malignity of an accomplished criminal has formed thesubject of much moralising. Criminals of the type of Doctor DaniloMalsano are, fortunately, rare. Their astounding gifts, which they usein a distorted form, make d
etection difficult, and escape easy.

  To his mind it did not appear brutal to involve a beautiful young girlin a nest of criminal intrigue. A day or two after the suddendisappearance of uncle and niece, the quiet little town of Bordigherawas made more attractive by the figure of a wistful-looking girl, whogazed across the deep-blue sea. Bordighera does not possess thefashionable and extravagantly gowned appearance of Nice. There is lessof glitter, less of glare than in most of the towns of the Riviera.Gilda had come here hoping to attract no attention by reason of thecomparative obscurity of the place. Instead of staying at an hotel, shehad found lodgings in an obscure street.

  For the first time she felt a sense of peace in her life and, away fromher uncle's baneful influence, a restored freshness was entering hervery being. She sat gazing across that