The Gay Triangle: The Romance of the First Air Adventurers Page 4

following day and returned to Germany. He wasstrictly searched at the frontier, of course without result, and thepuzzled French police never solved the problem of how, as they thought,he had beaten them. He had not dared to complain. "Mr and MrsWilson" were never even suspected, for by a strange coincidence somearticles of jewellery were stolen from another room that same night, andwhen the drugged chambermaid told her story it was assumed that theWilsons were hotel thieves of the ordinary type.

  A month later the _Petit Parisien_ announced in black type with aflaring headline:

  "An anonymous gift of one million francs has been received by the FrenchGovernment, to be devoted to the relief of the devastated regions ofFrance."

  CHAPTER TWO.

  A RACE FOR A THRONE.

  Paris, keenly sensitive to political vibrations which left lessemotional centres relatively unmoved, was rippling with excitement.

  The death of the aged King John of Galdavia had been followed by thesudden appearance of a second claimant to the stormy throne of thelatter principality in the Middle East, and the stormy petrels ofpolitics, to whom international political complications are as thebreath of life, had scented trouble from afar, and were flocking to thegay city. For the moment, however, the rest of the world seemed to takebut little interest in the new problem. It was generally felt that thesuccession to the Throne of Galdavia was a matter for the Galdaviansalone, and only a few long-sighted individuals perceived the smallcloud, "no bigger than a man's hand," which threatened to darken theentire political firmament.

  Back in his quiet Norfolk home, Dick Manton had dropped into a state ofprofound dejection. The adventure of the Russian Jewels, with its wildplunge into the thrills of the old life, had awakened an irrepressibledesire for action and movement which had lain dormant while hisshattered health was being slowly re-established.

  Now, fully recovered, and in the perfection of physical condition, hecould only contemplate with distaste and aversion continued existence inthe humdrum surroundings of East Anglia.

  But what was he to do? Like thousands of others he felt that theordered life of civilisation, with every daily action laid out accordingto plan, was for him impossible. His was essentially one of therestless spirits, stirred into life by the war, which craved action,difficulty, and even danger. Moreover his growing affection for Yvettetroubled him.

  Yvette had been delicately brought up. She was accustomed to luxury,and Dick could only realise that his present prospects were such that,even if he were sure she cared for him, a marriage between them mustentail such sacrifice on her part as he could not contemplate withequanimity.

  But, though dull, he had not been idle. The brilliant initial test ofthe new motor-plane, which he had fancifully christened "The Mohawk" hadstirred his ambition, and every moment he could snatch from business hadbeen devoted to thinking out and applying improvements. Some of thesehad been of real importance, and the machine had gained substantially instrength and lifting power, as well as in speed both on the ground andin the air. He was also making experiments in gliding.

  For some months he had heard little of Yvette. A few brief notes hadtold him she was well. But that was all, and he felt a little hurt. Henever dreamed that Yvette's feelings were singularly like his own; thatshe, too, was the prey of emotions which sometimes alarmed her. Theywere, in fact, kept apart by Dick's shyness and poverty, and by theFrench girl's profound pride and reserve.

  Matters were in this stage when Dick, to his great surprise, received abrief telegram from Yvette.

  "Can you come to Paris? very urgent--Yvette," the message ran.

  Dick left at once and next evening found him with Yvette and Jules at asmall hotel near the Gare du Nord. After a cordial greeting Yvette, asusual, plunged direct into the business in hand.

  "Now, Dick," she said, "our last adventure was quite a success. Are yougood for something more exciting and decidedly more dangerous? Or," sheadded mischievously, "is Norfolk and the motor business exciting anddangerous enough for you?"

  Dick laughed.

  "To tell the truth," he replied, smiling, "I'm about fed up with both ofthem. You can count me in on anything short of murder."

  "I hope it won't come to that," was Yvette's rejoinder, "but I admit youmay find your automatic pistol useful, perhaps indispensable. But letme explain. You English don't take much interest in foreign politics,and perhaps you haven't--in Norfolk--paid much attention to Galdavia."

  "I read that King John has died," Dick rejoined, "but I didn't supposeit made much difference."

  "Just as I expected!" said Yvette, laughing. "Well, it does; it makesquite a lot of difference as it happens. Of course it ought not to. Inthe ordinary way Milenko, the son of King John, should succeedpeacefully enough. But he has done some foolish things, and he is nottoo popular. There is a strong party in Galdavia which professes toobject to the manner in which John was called to the throne. You know,of course, how it happened; he was summoned after his predecessor, KingBoris, was killed by a bomb. Legally, of course, Milenko's claim isunchallengeable. But legality doesn't count for too much in Galdavianpolitics, and a second claimant to the throne has appeared in the personof Prince Michael Ostrovitch, whose title lies in the fact that he isdescended from a brother of Boris's grandfather. He was only a boy whenJohn was chosen, and in any case he would have had no possible chance ofelection, for Galdavian opinion then was overwhelmingly in favour ofJohn. But there has been a change. The change would not be enough tocause uneasiness, but for the appearance of another and very sinisterinfluence," and she paused.

  "We are convinced that Germany, for very obvious motives, is backingPrince Ostrovitch," she went on. "The scheme is being very skilfullyworked, and so far we have failed entirely to secure positive proof. Ifwe could do so the plot would be at an end, for France and GreatBritain, and perhaps even America would intervene at once. They wouldnever allow a German puppet to ascend the throne of Galdavia. But theywould not interfere with a _fait accompli_, especially if Ostrovitch'selection were so stage-managed as to give it the appearance of a popularmovement."

  "I quite see the point," Manton said, much interested.

  "Now we have found out this much," she went on. "Jules and I have beenworking at the case for some weeks, and we have both been to Langengrad,the capital. The secret is there. Bausch and Horst,"--she named twowell-known agents of the German Foreign Office--"are both there,disguised and under assumed names. We believe that a formal agreementis being prepared between the Ostrovitch Party and Germany. Now,neither the Germans nor the Ostrovitch Party fully trust one another,and each will seek to safeguard itself by documents which in the eventof treachery by either side would mean certain ruin. I am convincedthat such a document either exists or is being drawn up, and we must gethold of it if the peace of Europe is to be kept. Now," she addedslowly, "I want you to come with me to Langengrad and get it!"

  Dick sat silent for a moment.

  "I want to ask one or two questions," he said at length. "Do you mindtelling me how you come to be in this?"

  "I expected that, of course," replied Yvette. "The answer is simpleenough. I have been working for a long time for the French SecretService."

  "And why do you want me?" Dick queried.

  Yvette coloured.

  "I didn't expect that, Dick," she answered slowly. "I want you firstbecause I know you thoroughly, and secondly because I must have theMohawk. If you decide to go we shall go in the Mohawk as motoriststouring for pleasure. But if we succeed we shall certainly have toleave Langengrad in a desperate hurry, and we should certainly find allthe roads blocked. What chance do you think a motor-car, to say nothingof such a conspicuous oddity as the Mohawk, would have of getting allthrough Austria-Hungary and Germany, even if it got over the Galdavianfrontier, when so many people in Galdavia, Austria, and Germany wouldhave the liveliest interest in stopping it? No, we must fly out ofGaldavia. We cannot fly in, because our passports must be in order--butwe shall have to fly out."

  Dick smiled, but made no comment.

  "But remember this," the girl said, "if we arouse the slightestsuspicion it is a hundred to one we shall never return. The FrenchForeign Office cannot appear in the matter under any circumstances. Ifwe succeed, it means a big reward; if we fall into Ostrovitch'shands--!" and a shrug of Yvette's shapely shoulders ended the sentence.

  "Very well, Yvette," exclaimed Manton. "I'll go with you. There's noone to worry about me, anyhow, and I'm fed up with Norfolk. When do westart?"

  "The sooner the better. Is the Mohawk ready?"

  "Yes," replied Dick. "I can start half an hour after I get