The Lone Wolf by Louis Joseph Vance (ebook reader browser txt) đ
- Author: Louis Joseph Vance
- Performer: -
Book online «The Lone Wolf by Louis Joseph Vance (ebook reader browser txt) đ». Author Louis Joseph Vance
with a brave and generous gesture she offered him her hand.
âMr. Lanyard, I promiseâŠ.â
To every woman, even the least lovely, her hour of beauty: it had not
entered Lanyardâs mind to think this woman beautiful until that moment.
Of her exotic charm, of the allure of her pensive, plaintive prettiness,
he had been well aware; even as he had been unable to deny to himself
that he was all for her, that he loved her with all the strength that
was his; but not till now had he understood that she was the one woman
whose loveliness to him would darken the fairness of all others.
And for a little, holding her tremulous hand upon his finger-tips as
though he feared to bruise it with a ruder contact, he could not take
his eyes from her.
Then reverently he bowed his head and touched his lips to that hand âŠ
and felt it snatched swiftly away, and started back, aghast, the idyll
roughly dissipated, the castle of his dreams falling in thunders round
his ears.
In the studio-skylight overhead a pane of glass had fallen in with a
shattering crash as ominous as the Trump of Doom.
XIV RIVE DROITFalling without presage upon the slumberous hush enveloping the little
house marooned in that dead back-water of Paris, the shock of that
alarm drove the girl back from the table to the nearest wall, and for a
moment held her there, transfixed in panic.
To the wide, staring eyes that questioned his so urgently, Lanyard
promptly nodded grave reassurance. He hadnât stirred since his first,
involuntary and almost imperceptible start, and before the last
fragment of splintered glass had tinkled on the floor above, he was
calming her in the most matter-of-fact manner.
âDonât be alarmed,â he said. âItâs nothingâmerely Solonâs skylight
gone smash!â
âYou call that nothing!â she cried gustily. âWhat caused it, then?â
âMy negligence,â he admitted gloomily. âI might have known that wide
spread of glass with the studio electrics on, full-blaze, would give
the show away completely. The house is known to be unoccupied; and it
wasnât to be expected that both the police and Popinotâs crew would
overlook so shining a markâŠ. And itâs all my fault, my oversight: I
should have thought of it beforeâŠ. High time I was quitting a game
Iâve no longer the wit to play by the rules!â
âBut the police would neverâŠ!â
âCertainly not. This is Popinotâs gentle method of letting us know heâs
on the job. But Iâll just have a look, to make sureâŠ. No: stop where
you are, please. Iâd rather go alone.â
He swung alertly through to the hall window, pausing there only long
enough for an instantaneous glance through the draperiesâa fugitive
survey that discovered the impasse Stanislas no more abandoned to the
wind and rain, but tenanted visibly by one at least who lounged beneath
the lonely lamp-post, a shoulder against it: a featureless civilian
silhouette with attention fixed to the little house.
But Lanyard didnât doubt this one had a dozen fellows stationed within
callâŠ.
Springing up the stairs, he paused prudently at the top-most step, one
quick glance showing him the huge rent gaping black in the skylight,
the second the missile of destruction lying amid a litter of broken
glassâa brick wrapped in newspaper, by the look of it.
Swooping forward, he retrieved this, darted back from the exposed space
beneath the shattered skylight, and had no more than cleared the
threshold than a second something fell through the gap and buried
itself in the parquetry. This was a bullet fired from the roof of one
of the adjoining buildings: confirming his prior reasoning that the
first missile must have fallen from a height, rather than have been
thrown up from the street, to have wrought such destruction with those
tough, thick panes of clouded glassâŠ.
Swearing softly to himself, he descended to the kitchen.
âAs I thought,â he said coolly, exhibiting his find.
âTheyâre on the roof of the next houseâthough theyâve posted a sentry
in the street, of course.â
âBut that second thumpâ?â the girl demanded.
âA bullet,â he said, placing the bundle on the table and cutting the
string that bound it: âthey were on the quivive and fired when I showed
myself beneath the skylight.â
âBut I heard no report,â she objected.
âA Maxim silencer on the gun, I fancy,â he explained, unwrapping the
brick and smoothing out the newspaperâŠ. âGlad you thought to put on
your hat before you came down,â he added, with an approving glance for
the girl; âit wonât be safe to go up to the studio againâof course.â
His nonchalance was far less real than it seemed, but helped to steady
one who was holding herself together with a struggle, on the verge of
nervous collapse.
âBut what are we to do now?â she stammered. âIf theyâve surrounded the
houseâ!â
âDonât worry: thereâs more than one way out,â he responded, frowning at
the newspaper; âI wouldnât have picked this place out, otherwise. Nor
would Solon have rented it in the first instance had it lacked an
emergency exit, in event of creditorsâŠ. Ahâthought so!â
âWhatâ?â
âTroyonâs is gone,â he said, without looking up. âThis is tonightâs
PresseâŠ. â_Totally destroyed by a fire which started at six-thirty
this morning and in less than half an hour had reduced the ancient
structure to a heap of smoking ashes_â! âŠâ He ran his eye quickly
down the column, selecting salient phrases: ââ_Believed to have been of
incendiary origin though the premises were uninsured_ââthatâs an
intelligent guess!⊠â_Narrow escape of guests in their
â_whatyemaycallemsâŠ._âThree lives believed to have been lost ⊠one
body recovered charred almost beyond recognition_ââbut later
identified as Roddyâpoor devil! ⊠â_Two guests missing, Monsieur
Lanyard, the well-known connoisseur of art, who occupied the room
adjoining that of the unfortunate detective, and Mademoiselle Bannon,
daughter of the American millionaire, who himself escaped only by a
miracle with his secretary Monsieur Greggs, the latter being overcome
by fumes_ââwhat a shame!⊠â_Police and firemen searching the
ruins_ââhm-hmââ _extraordinary interest manifested by the Prïżœfecture
indicates a suspicion that the building may have been fired to conceal
some crime of a political nature_.ââ
Crushing the newspaper between his hands, he tossed it into a corner.
âThatâs all of importance. Thoughtful of Popinot to let me know, this
way! The Prïżœfecture, of course, is humming like a waspâs-nest with the
mystery of that telegram, signed with Roddyâs name and handed in at the
Bourse an hour or so before he was âburned to death.â Too bad I didnât
know then what I do now; if Iâd even remotely suspected Greggsâ
association with the Pack was via BannonâŠ. But whatâs the use? I did
my possible, knowing the odds were heavy against success.â
âWhat was written on the paper?â the girl demanded obliquely.
He made his eyes blank: âWritten on the paperâ?â
âI saw something in red ink at the head of the column. You tried to
hide it from me, but I sawâŠ. What was it?â
âOhâthat!â he laughed contemptuously: âjust Popinotâs impudenceâan
invitation to come out and be a good target.â
She shook her head impatiently: âYouâre not telling me the truth. It
was something else, or you wouldnât have been so anxious to hide it.â
âOh, but I assure youâ!â
âYou canât. Be honest with me, Mr. Lanyard. It was an offer to let you
off if youâd give me up to Bannonâwasnât it?â
âSomething like that,â he assented sheepishlyââtoo absurd for
considerationâŠ. But now weâre due to clear out of this before they
find a way in. Not that theyâre likely to risk a raid until theyâve
tried starving us out; but it would be as well to put a good distance
between us before they find out weâve decamped.â
He shrugged into his borrowed raincoat, buttoned it to his chin, and
turned down the brim of his felt hat; but when he looked up at the girl
again, he found she hadnât moved; rather, she remained as one spellbound,
staring less at than through him, her expression inscrutable.
âWell,â he venturedââif youâre quite ready, Miss Shannonâ?â
âMr. Lanyard,â she demanded almost sharplyââwhat was the full wording
of that message?â
âIf you must knowââ
âI must!â
He lifted a depreciative shoulder. âIf you like, Iâll read it to
youâor, rather, translate it from the thievesâ argot Popinot
complimented me by using.â
âNot necessary,â she said tersely. âIâll take your word for itâŠ.
But you must tell me the truth.â
âAs you willâŠ. Popinot delicately suggested that if I leave you here,
to be reunited to your alleged parentâif Iâll trust to his word of
honour, that is, and walk out of the house alone, heâll give me
twenty-four hours in which to leave Paris.â
âThen only I stand between you andââ
âMy dear young woman!â he protested hastily. âPlease donât run away
with any absurd notion like that. Do you imagine Iâd consent to treat
with such canaille under any circumstances?â
âAll the same,â she continued stubbornly, âIâm the stumbling-block.
Youâre risking your life for meââ
âIâm not,â he insisted almost angrily.
âYou are,â she returned with quiet conviction.
âWell!â he laughedââhave it your own way!âŠâ
âBut itâs my life, isnât it? I really donât see how youâre going to
prevent my risking it for anything that may seem to me worth the risk!â
But she wouldnât laugh; only her countenance, suddenly bereft of its
mutinous expression, softened winninglyâand her eyes grew very kind to
him.
âAs long as itâs understood I understandâvery well,â she said quietly;
âIâll do as you wish, Mr. Lanyard.â
âGood!â he cried cheerfully. âI wish, by your leave, to take you out to
dinnerâŠ. This way, please!â
Leading through the scullery, he unbarred a low, arched door in one of
the walls, discovering the black mouth of a narrow and tunnel-like
passageway.
With a word of caution, flash-lamp in his left hand, pistol in right,
Lanyard stepped out into the darkness.
In two minutes he was back, with a look of relief.
âAll clear,â he reported; âI felt pretty sure Popinot knew nothing of
this way outâelse weâd have entertained uninvited guests long since.
Now, half a minuteâŠ.â
The electric meter occupied a place on the wall of the scullery not far
from the door. Prying open its cover, he unscrewed and removed the fuse
plug, plunging the entire house in complete darkness.
âThatâll keep âem guessing a while!â he explained with a chuckle.
âTheyâll hesitate a long time before rushing a dark house infested by a
desperate armed manâif I know anything about that mongrel lot!âŠ
Besides, when they do get their courage up, the lack of light will
stave off discovery of this way of escapeâŠ. And now, one word more.â
A flash of the lamp located her hand. Calmly he possessed himself of it,
if without opposition.
âIâve brought you into trouble enough, as it is, through my stupidity,â
he said; âbut for that, this place should have been a refuge to us
until we were quite ready to leave Paris. So now we mustnât forget,
before we go out to run God-only-knows-what gauntlet, to fix a
rendezvous in event of separationâŠ. Popinot, for instance, may have
drawn a cordon around the block; we canât tell until weâre in the
street; if he has, you must leave me to entertain them until youâre
safe beyond their reachâŠ. Oh, donât worry: Iâm perfectly well able to
take care of myselfâŠ.But afterwards, we must know where to find each
other.
Comments (0)