The Lone Wolf by Louis Joseph Vance (ebook reader browser txt) đ
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drug and leave me insensible to be found by the police. FortunatelyâI
was beforehand with him. I had just left him drugged, insensible in my
place, when I met you in the corridorâŠ. You didnât know?â
âHow can you ask?â the girl moaned.
Bending forward, an elbow on the table, she worked her hands together
until their knuckles shone white through the skinâbut not as white as
the face from which her eyes sought his with a look of dumb horror,
dazed, pitiful, imploring.
âYouâre not deceiving me? But noâwhy should you?â she faltered. âBut
how terrible, how unspeakably awful! âŠâ
âIâm sorry,â Lanyard mumbledââIâd have held my tongue if I hadnât
thought you knewââ
âYou thought I knewâand didnât lift a finger to save the man?â She
jumped up with a blazing face. âOh, how could you?â
âNoânot thatâI never thought that. But, meeting you then and there,
so opportunelyâI couldnât ignore the coincidence; and when you
admitted you were running away from your father, considering all the
circumstances, I was surely justified in thinking it was realization,
in part at least, of what had happened that was driving you away.â
She shook her head slowly, her indignation ebbing as quickly as it had
risen. âI understand,â she said; âyou had some excuse, but you were
mistaken. I ran awayâyesâbut not because of that. I never
dreamed âŠâ
She fell silent, sitting with bowed head and twisting her hands
together in a manner he found it painful to watch.
âBut please,â he implored, âdonât take it so much to heart, Miss
Bannon. If you knew nothing, you couldnât have prevented it.â
âNo,â she said brokenlyââI could have done nothing ⊠But I
didnât know. It isnât thatâitâs the horror and pity of it. And that
you could thinkâ!â
âBut I didnât!â he protestedââtruly I did not. And for what I did
think, for the injustice I did do you, believe me, Iâm truly sorry.â
âYou were quite justified,â she saidâânot only by circumstantial
evidence but to a degree in fact. You must know ⊠now I must tell
you âŠâ
âNothing you donât wish to!â he interrupted. âThe fact that I
practically kidnapped you under pretence of doing you a service, and
suspected you of being in the pay of that Pack, gives me no title to
your confidence.â
âCan I blame you for thinking what you did?â She went on slowly,
without looking upâgaze steadfast to her interlaced fingers: âNow for
my own sake I want you to know what otherwise, perhaps, I shouldnât
have told youânot yet, at all events. Iâm no more Bannonâs daughter
than youâre his son. Our names sound alikeâpeople frequently make
the same mistake. My name is ShannonâLucy Shannon. Mr. Bannon
called me Lucia because he knew I didnât like it, to tease me; for
the same reason he always kept up the pretence that I was his daughter
when people misunderstood.â
âButâif that is soâthen whatâ?â
âWhyâitâs very simple.â Still she didnât look up. âIâm a trained
nurse. Mr. Bannon is consumptiveâso far gone, itâs a wonder he
didnât die years ago: for months Iâve been haunted by the thought that
itâs only the evil in him keeps him alive. It wasnât long after I took
the assignment to nurse him that I found out something about himâŠ.
Heâd had a haemorrhage at his desk; and while he lay in coma, and I
was waiting for the doctor, I happened to notice one of the papers heâd
been working over when he fell. And then, just as I began to appreciate
the sort of man I was employed by, he came to, and sawâand knew. I
found him watching me with those dreadful eyes of his, and though he
was unable to speak, knew my life wasnât safe if ever I breathed a word
of what I had read. I would have left him then, but he was too cunning
for me, and when in time I found a chance to escapeâI was afraid Iâd
not live long if ever I left him. He went about it deliberately; to
keep me frightened, and though he never mentioned the matter directly,
let me know plainly, in a hundred ways, what his power was and what
would happen if I whispered a word of what I knew. Itâs nearly a year
nowânearly a year of endless terror andâŠâ
Her voice fell; she was trembling with the recrudescent suffering of
that year-long servitude. And for a little Lanyard felt too profoundly
moved to trust himself to speak; he stood aghast, staring down at this
woman, so intrinsically and gently feminine, so strangely strong and
courageous; and vaguely envisaging what anguish must have been hers in
enforced association with a creature of Bannonâs ruthless stamp, he was
rent with compassion and swore to himself heâd stand by her and see her
through and free and happy if he died for itâor ended in the Santïżœ!
âPoor child!â he heard himself murmuringââpoor child!â
âDonât pity me!â she insisted, still with face averted. âI donât
deserve it. If I had the spirit of a mouse, Iâd have defied him; it
needed only courage enough to say one word to the policeââ
âBut who is he, then?â Lanyard demanded. âWhat is he, I mean?â
âI hardly know how to tell you. And I hardly dare: I feel as if these
walls would betray me if I didâŠ. But to me heâs the incarnation of
all things evilâŠ.â She shook herself with a nervous laugh. âBut why
be silly about it? I donât really know what or who he is: I only
suspect and believe that he is a man whose life is devoted to planning
evil and ordering its execution through his lieutenants. When the
papers at home speak of âThe Man Higher Upâ they mean Archer Bannon,
though they donât know itâor else Iâm merely a hysterical woman
exaggerating the impressions of a morbid imaginationâŠ. And thatâs all
I know of him that matters.â
âBut why, if you believe all thisâhow did you at length find
courageâ?â
âBecause I no longer had courage to endure; because I was more afraid
to stay than to goâafraid that my own soul would be forfeit. And then,
last night, he ordered me to go to your room and search it for evidence
that you were the Lone Wolf. It was the first time heâd ever asked
anything like that of me. I was afraid, and though I obeyed, I was glad
when you interruptedâglad even though I had to lie the way I didâŠ.
And all that worked on me, after Iâd gone back to my room, until I felt
I could stand it no longer; and after a long time, when the house
seemed all still, I got up, dressed quietly and ⊠That is how I came
to meet youâquite by accident.â
âBut you seemed so frightened at first when you saw meââ
âI was,â she confessed simply; âI thought you were
Mr. Greggs.â
âGreggs?â
âMr. Bannonâs private secretaryâhis right-hand man. Heâs about your
height and has a suit like the one you wear, and in that poor lightâat
the distance I didnât notice you were clean-shavenâGreggs wears a
moustacheââ
âThen it was Greggs murdered Roddy and tried to drug me! ⊠By George,
Iâd like to know whether the police got there before Bannon, or
somebody else, discovered the substitution. It was a telegram to the
police, you know, I sent from the Bourse last night!â
In his excitement Lanyard began to pace the floor rapidly; and now that
he was no longer staring at her, the girl lifted her head and watched
him closely as he moved to and fro, talking aloudâmore to himself than
to her.
âI wish I knew! ⊠And what a lucky thing, you did meet me! For if
youâd gone on to the Gare du Nord and waited thereâŠ.Well, it isnât
likely Bannon didnât discover your flight before eight oâclock this
morning, is it?â
âIâm afraid notâŠ.â
âAnd theyâve drawn the dead-line for me round every conceivable exit
from Paris: Popinotâs Apaches are picketed everywhere. And if Bannon
had found out about you in time, it would have needed only a wordâŠâ
He paused and shuddered to think what might have ensued had that word
been spoken and the girl been found waiting for her train in the Gare
du Nord.
âMercifully, weâve escaped that. And now, with any sort of luck, Bannon
ought to be busy enough, trying to get his precious Mr. Greggs out of
the Santïżœ, to give us a chance. And a fighting chance is all I ask.â
âMr. Lanyardââthe girl bent toward him across the table with a gesture
of eager interestââhave you any idea why heâwhy Mr. Bannon hates you
so?â
âBut does he? I donât know!â
âIf he doesnât, why should he plot to cast suspicion of murder on you,
and why be so anxious to know whether you were really the Lone Wolf? I
saw his eyes light up when De Morbihan mentioned that name, after
dinner; and if ever I saw hatred in a manâs face, it was in his as he
watched you, when you werenât looking.â
âAs far as I know, I never heard of him before,â Lanyard said
carelessly. âI fancy itâs nothing more than the excitement of a
man-hunt. Now that theyâve found me out, De Morbihan and his crew wonât
rest until theyâve got my scalp.â
âBut why?â
âProfessional jealousy. Weâre all crooks, all in the same boat, only I
wonât row to their stroke. Iâve always played a lone hand successfully;
now they insist on coming into the game and sharing my winnings. And
Iâve told them where they could go.â
âAnd because of that, theyâre willing toâ-â
âThereâs nothing they wouldnât do, Miss Shannon, to bring me to my
knees or see me put out of the way, where my operations couldnât hurt
their pocketbooks. Well ⊠all I ask is a fighting chance, and they
shall have their way!â
Her brows contracted. âI donât understandâŠ. You want a fighting
chanceâto surrenderâto give in to their demands?â
âIn a wayâyes. I want a fighting chance to do what Iâd never in the
world get them to creditâgive it all up and leave them a free field.â
And when still she searched his face with puzzled eyes, he insisted:
âI mean it; I want to get awayâclear outâchuck the game for good and
all!â
A little silence greeted this announcement. Lanyard, at pause near the
table, resting a hand on it, bent to the girlâs upturned face a grave
but candid regard. And the deeps of her eyes that never swerved from
his were troubled strangely in his vision. He could by no means account
for the light he seemed to see therein, a light that kindled while he
watched like a tiny flame, feeble, fearful, vacillant, then as the
moments passed steadied and grew stronger but ever leaped and danced;
so that he, lost in the wonder of it and forgetful of himself, thought
of it as the ardent face of a happy child dancing in the depths of some
brown autumnal woodlandâŠ.
âYou,â she breathed incredulouslyââyou mean, youâre going to stopâ?â
âI have stopped, Miss Shannon. The Lone Wolf has prowled for the last
time. I didnât know it until I woke up, an hour or so ago, but Iâve
turned my last job.â
He remarked her hands were small, in keeping with the slightness of her
person, but somehow didnât seem soâwore a look of strength and
capability, befitting hands trained to a
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