Читать книгу Adèle and Co. - Cecil William Mercer - Страница 4

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‘The Villiers’ place’ lay roughly ten miles from Dieppe. The house was large and stood in a pleasant park through which a curling drive ran down to the Rouen road. I had passed it a hundred times and marked its comfortable bulwarks and its spreading apron of pasture which the highway edged like a ribbon for half a mile. Indeed, for such as passed by, a mansion had been set among meadows with woods upon either side. No one, I think, would have dreamed of what lay behind; and I cannot forget the first time I stood on the terrace which ran the length of the villa towards the South. It was perched at the head of a valley some two miles long. Its sides were clothed with woodland which stood up on either hand to meet the sky: its floor was all green meadows, and right in the heart of these a wandering vein of silver argued a running stream. The dale was flooded with sunshine from end to end, and distance melted into a haze of heat: what wind there was passed by this sanctuary: only the song of birds bedecked the infinite silence, as stars the velvet of the night. As for privacy ...

We knew the Villiers well, and three telegrams were enough to make the property ours for the next two months. All the same, until we had servants, we should have been well advised to stay in the Place Vendôme. My sister’s maid was on holiday: so was Jill’s. But we had all been infected with Jonah’s obvious impatience to get away, and since the caretaker’s wife was ready to be our cook, we determined to take possession as soon as ever we could. Once we were there, we argued, servants would apply for such posts as had to be filled. Moreover, Jonah’s man, Carson, was on his way from Town with my cousin’s Rolls, and Piers had left for White Ladies to fetch the Lowland coupé which I had given Adèle.

It follows that on Monday morning we travelled down to Dieppe. Carson was there to meet us, and, after instructing him to buy some things in the town and bring them out with our luggage by motor-van, we took our seats in the car and made for the Rouen road. Twenty minutes later we sighted the Château de Nay.

“Yes, I think it’s lovely,” said Berry. “As battle-headquarters I don’t think it could be improved. When do we lunch?”

“Well, we can’t lunch yet,” said Daphne. “We’ve nothing to eat. Would you like to walk to the village and get some things?”

Her husband regarded the heaven. The sun was blazing: there was not a cloud in the sky.

“No,” he said. “I’ll think I’ll stay here—and make the beds.”

“You needn’t make mine,” said I. “And I don’t think I should make Jonah’s. He’s funny like that.”

My brother-in-law frowned.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said slowly. “It is rather menial work. Supervision’s more in my line. Er, what about a bottle of beer?”

“No, you don’t,” said Daphne. “Either you walk to the village, or pull your weight in the house. There’s a bed that’s got to be moved.”

“How far is the village?” said her husband.

“Two miles and a half,” said Adèle.

“Thanks very much,” said Berry. “How big is the bed?”

When I explained that the bed must be taken to pieces, he picked up his hat.

Then he turned to his wife.

“Of course your staff-work,” he said, “is enough to induce palsy. When you saw there was no manna, what did you let Jonah go for?”

My cousin was gone to Rouen, to make inquiries for someone he wished to find. And Carson with him.

“One can’t think of everything,” said Daphne. “You must get some bread and some butter and slices of ham.”

“Not real ham?” said her husband. “But how delicious. I know. Jean can go.”

Jean was the caretaker.

“Jean’s out raking up servants. You know what the French for slice is?”

Berry closed his eyes.

“Voulez-vous me donner dix tranches de jambon York?” he said obediently.

Jill began to shake with laughter.

“That’ll do for our lunch,” said Daphne, “unless you should see any cheese. Meanwhile I’ll talk to Anna and make out a list, and as soon as Jonah comes back you can go in again.”

“I see,” said Berry slowly. Again he looked at the sky. Then he stepped to the balustrade and felt the stone with his hand. “Marvellous weather, this is. Might be July. You know, I’m not at all sure I want any lunch.”

“Well, we do,” said Daphne shortly. “And what about drinks?”

Her husband stared.

“Well, what’s the beer done?” he said.

“The beer hasn’t come,” said Adèle.

“Not come?” screamed Berry. “Not come? Oh, don’t be blasphemous.”

“It’s not Carson’s fault,” bubbled Jill. “The brewery’s stuck, or something, and no one would let him have bottles to bring away. Jonah’s going to bring some from Rouen.”

In a silence big with laughter Berry took a short walk with his hand to his head.

When he returned—

“I’d better have a hand-cart,” he said.

Though the others protested, I was inclined to agree. I deeply suspected the water, which came from a well: Jonah might return before midnight, but then he might not: I was already more thirsty than those who have liquor to hand permit themselves to remain. After a short discussion, I went off in search of transport—of any kind.

There was, of course, no hand-cart: there was a garden-roller and there was the biggest and heaviest wheel-barrow that I have ever seen: of the two, the roller had it: no common man could have wheeled that barrow a furlong and been the same. Reference to the kitchen proved more fruitful: on being besought to obtain us something on wheels, the caretaker’s wife produced a collapsible perambulator, which may once have looked a picture, but was now past its prime. Moth and rust had vied with each other in corruption. On being erected, however, the vehicle moved.

Standing at the head of the steps, Berry regarded his assistant with starting eyes.

“I don’t want to seem fastidious,” he said, “but is that the best you can do?”

“It’s that or the roller,” said I, brushing the dirt from my hands.

“I see,” said my brother-in-law. “All right.” He passed down the steps and set his hand to the rail. “I suppose you don’t know any child that wants a lift. I mean, it seems almost selfish....”

A moment later he was descending the drive.

As I turned to the house—

“But why,” wailed Adèle, “why didn’t he choose the bed?”

“Because he’s thirsty,” said I. “All the beer he brings back won’t be in the pram.”

The burden of the next three hours, I like to forget. I had no conception of the labour which precedes inhabitation of an ordinary furnished house. I unrolled carpets, I scaled and descended stairs, I fetched and carried bedding, until I felt faint. In the absence of Jean, I was forced to stoke the furnace and climb about under the tiles looking for taps. The electric plant was not working, and I had to pump for one hour to fill the tanks. And all this, with nothing to drink. At half past two I gave in and swallowed some milk.

At a quarter to three Jean returned from his tour, to say that three stout servants would report the following morning at seven o’clock. The tidings were politely received. By rights we should have been jubilant. Just at the moment, however, we were living for other things—the things my brother-in-law had been sent to get.

At three o’clock we met in my sister’s room.

“He’s gone to Rouen,” said I. “You know what he is. Got a lift in a car for a monkey. When he’s had a hell of a lunch at the best hotel, he’ll buy the bread and the ham and hire a car back. And he’ll pitch some tale of having been carried on past the village before he knew where he was.”

“I refuse to believe it,” said Daphne. “He’d never dare.”

“Well, where is he, then?” said I. “He left here soon after eleven, and now it’s three. I mean, five miles in four hours ...”

A shuffle upon the terrace brought us pell-mell to the window to learn the truth.

We were just in time to see Berry cross the flags and come to the balustrade. That he was heavy-laden I cannot deny. On his back was a sack to the neck of which he was clinging as though it were full of gold. He reminded me of a gnome in a fairytale.

The balustrade he used as a porter’s rest. Gingerly he lowered the sack till it rested upon the stone: then he turned round and lifted it down to the flags. Then he lay down on his back and closed his eyes.

All this in a pregnant silence we dared not break. His air was that of a saint from whom great tribulation has taken the urge to live.

“My sister steadied herself and lifted her voice.

“Are you very done, old fellow?”

Her husband opened his eyes.

“Hush,” he said. “There’s illness in the house. At least, not in the house: on the terrace. Somebody’s seriously ill. I don’t think they’re going to live.” He closed his eyes again. “They’ll have to be fed, of course. There’s some stuff that looks like jelly irrigating the ham. You can sort that out, if you like and tempt them with that.”

“To be frank,” said I, “I made certain you’d wangle a lift.”

“So did I,” said Berry faintly. “I suppose the time was a bad one. Nothing but brakeless limousines seems to employ that road. Oh, and a tar-waggon: but I didn’t like to stop that. And in the village they told me a short cut back. It’s quite a good way, if you can find it. At least I suppose it is. I only found the first mile. I thought they said ‘Turn to the left at the fourth dunghill,’ but I think they must have meant the fifth.”

So soon as I could speak—

“And the—the hand-cart?” I said.

Berry shuddered.

“Ugh,” he said. “Was that real? I was hoping it was only a dream.”

“You left here,” said I, “with a pram.”

Berry sat up.

“With a baby-carriage?” he said. “A thing like The Step Pyramid? That was black and smelt and had two detachable wheels?”

“Had it?” said I.

“Yes,” said Berry, “it had. The way you get one off is to push it for half a mile. Then you walk slowly back looking for a small, black nut by the side of the road. When you’ve wasted twenty minutes, you chuck the wheel over the hedge and proceed with three. This is just possible—I don’t know why.” He lay back and closed his eyes. “It takes about two miles to get the second one off.”

We waited breathlessly.

At length—

“Go on,” said Adèle tremulously.

“You can’t,” said Berry. “No one can. No man born of woman can push a pram on two wheels.” He sat up again with a jerk and flung out his hands. “You see the poisonous point, don’t you? You see the snare—the stinking pit you’ve been at such pains to dig? If you wanted to destroy the swine, you might as well have done it at home. Instead of that, you’ve shoved it two statute miles, two sodden, soul-searing miles, up to its doom.” He covered his face. “What breaks your heart is that you don’t destroy it even then. You—you try to mend it first.” He sighed profoundly. “I don’t think they like being mended. I may be wrong. But without an anæsthetic it isn’t a one-man job. It’s while you’re trying to mend it that you go out of your mind. You scream and seize it and——”

“Don’t say you’ve broken it,” said Daphne. “We shall have to pay the woman——”

“I didn’t break it,” screamed Berry. “The filthy thing was broken before I left this house. What I did was to reduce it to impotence, to smash its power for evil once for all.” He sucked in his breath. “No one else will ever push it two miles. A breakdown gang may get it off the kilometre stone it now surrounds, but no one will ever push it. They wouldn’t know which way to go.”

“Well, I call that wanton,” said Daphne. “Some poor child ...”

I put my arm round her waist and drew her into the room. There are times when she will not see danger. Already her husband was making a sizzling noise.

Of such were the first few hours which we passed at Nay. But Jonah returned at tea-time, and, with the Rolls to serve us, the position sensibly improved. That night we dined in Rouen and dined extremely well, and when my cousin announced that in coming to Nay we had done rather better than we knew, the trials of the day were forgotten as though they had never been.

“It’s nothing very much,” said Jonah, “but I’ve located a friend. A very knowledgeable fellow. He was in the Secret Service during the War. I hope to see him to-morrow. And I think Boy and Berry should meet him. So if you can let them off for a couple of hours ...”

“And Piers,” cried Jill. “Piers will be here to-morrow, and——”

“So he shall,” said her brother. “But not just yet. Besides, he must go to bed. We shan’t leave here before midnight. The man we’re meeting doesn’t keep office hours.”

“I hope he’s quite nice,” said Berry. “I mean, Mother always told me——”

“He’s good at his job,” said Jonah. “So good that he was released to serve the Secret Service and help us to win the War.”

There was an excited silence.

“When you say ‘released’,” began Berry....

“I mean ‘released,’ ” said my cousin. “He was doing five years for robbery under arms.”

The Wet Flag is a café which none of the guide-books to Rouen see fit to commend. It is convenient and quiet, and it stands in the heart of the town: the cooking is good, and its cellar is better than most. Indeed, it is well worth using—provided some regular patron will take you under his wing. Otherwise you will be unwelcome. The Wet Flag is more than a café: it is as good as a club.

No hush greeted our entry, and nobody stared: but before two minutes had passed I became acutely aware that our presence was under discussion by everyone in the place. It was a curious feeling which nothing could justify. The shrugged shoulders, the laughter, the confidential remarks might have related to any topic you please. In fact they related to us. The air was charged with resentment which was deliberately masked. I am not very sensitive, but only a full-blown idiot could have failed to perceive the atmosphere of ill will. And I knew in my heart that if I were to get to my feet and step to the door, one or more of the company present would instantly do the same.

But if we were not at our ease, we had nothing to fear. We were three strong men, and Jonah and I were armed. Besides, we were there on business. We had an appointment with an habitué. Still, veiled suspicion is a very unpleasant thing. No one likes to be weighed and found wanting. But when one is weighed and found wanting by forty or fifty people all of whom live by defying the criminal law, it is much more than distasteful. It is almost embarrassing.

I crossed my legs and took a pull at my beer.

The place was clean and not unpleasantly hot. The floor was of some composition on which the waiters’ feet made next to no sound, and while the room was well lit, the lights were carefully shaded, to spare the eyes. A woman sat at a desk beside the bar, but the host himself was playing the part of a waiter and wearing the long, white apron as well as his men. Of his guests a full third were women, none of them shabby and some of them very well dressed. By no means all were French, and half the men I could see were of English or American blood. I cannot pretend that they were a nice-looking lot. Shrewd, hard-bitten, tough, five out of six of them looked the rascals they were, but here and there was a face which no one would have suspected, and I cannot forget a gentle, mild-eyed old fellow who had the air of a prelate and was reading La Vie Parisienne. No one was dancing, although a space was kept clear, and the band, when it played, discoursed its music so softly that those who wished to converse could do so without an effort to make themselves heard.

“What would happen,” said Berry, “if I got up and shouted ‘I’m not a copper’s nark’?”

“I can’t imagine,” said Jonah. “But I hope very much you won’t. For one thing, the statement would be supererogatory.”

“Then what’s the trouble?” said Berry. “I feel that I’m misunderstood.”

“So you are,” said Jonah. “This crowd has an animal instinct. Whatever they don’t understand, they at once suspect. If you were leading their life, you’d be the same.”

“I see,” said my brother-in-law. “Have they any other—er—animal instincts? You know. Lying in wait, or pulling down their prey, or—I mean, for instance, some animals don’t like being watched while they’re feeding. Of course it’s very foolish, but ...”

Right at the end of the room I saw a man get to his feet. Then he left his table and sauntered in our direction, stopping once or twice to speak for a moment with someone that caught his eye. One of these was a good-looking girl, very well-dressed and wearing a small black hat. She would have done credit to any table I know. Then he passed on and up to where we were sitting close to the door.

“Well, Fluff,” said Jonah. “How are you? These are two cousins of mine.”

“Good evening,” said Fluff politely.

“Good evening,” said Berry and I.

“And now sit down,” said Jonah, and pulled out a chair.

As he took his seat—

“Fancy you getting stung,” said Fluff. “When I saw the fuss in the papers, I couldn’t believe my eyes. You usedn’t to drink with strangers once on a time.”

“I’m sore,” said Jonah, nodding. “I give you my word, I’m sore. We all are.”

“I’ll lay you are,” said Fluff. “I’d like to ’ave had those pearls your sister wore. To think of them goin’ like that to some amateur! Auntie Emma isn’t half sick. One of his lot went up with those pearls from Rome. But when you met her at Paris, he turned it down.”

“Well, who are the Plazas?” said Jonah.

“They’re amateurs,” said Fluff. “I don’t know who they are any more than you.” He sighed bitterly. “It’s blood an’ grief them jewels goin’ off like that. Some dirty Jew’ll get them for a song without words. Amateurs are outside the market. They can’t never place their stuff.”

His regret was ludicrous. I was halfway to laughter, and Jonah’s lips were twitching for all his calm. Berry was suspiciously grave.

“What are you drinking?” said Jonah, with his hand to his mouth.

“Whiskey for me,” said Fluff. “That beer’s too small.”

As I called a waiter, Berry took out his cigar-case and passed it to Fluff. With a nod of thanks, the latter withdrew a cigar.

“And you’re no fool,” he said. “What were you doing to let them sew you up?”

“My cousin’s fault,” said Berry. “I wasn’t on duty that night.”

The other grinned.

“I give you up,” he said, and reached for a match. “Fancy pickin’ them up on the train. You’ll be playing chemmy next on board of some ship.”

“Possibly,” said Berry. “But we shan’t be drinking champagne. Do you suffer from headaches at all?”

“Not that sort,” said Fluff. “But I’ve heard that they’re something cruel.”

“Meiosis,” said Berry shortly. “They’re not of this world. Conceive a red-hot flat-iron being cooled in your brain. Are you sure you can’t place the Plazas? I’d give six months of my life to stand them a drink.”

“I wish I could,” said Fluff. “They’d want a pick-me-up before I was through.”

I glanced round the room. We were being regarded now—with friendly, if curious eyes. Everyone was looking to where we sat. The elderly prelate gave me a sad, sweet smile. The good-looking girl did more. Looking me full in the eyes, she smiled and lifted her glass. Slightly embarrassed, I gave the compliment back.

“Oh, you home-wrecker,” said Berry. “Oh, you profligate——”

“That’s Bermuda,” said Fluff. “And I’ll warrant you don’t know why she loves you like that.”

“I can’t imagine,” said I.

The other fingered his chin.

“A few years ago,” he said, “the police took you off to a golf-links an’ showed you a fair-haired crook.”

“That’s right,” I cried. “The links at St. Jean-de-Luz. Her name was Eulalie.”

“Very like,” said Fluff. “We called her ‘The Bank of England’. An’ they asked you to recognize her, but you said ‘No.’ ”

“That wasn’t very hard,” said I. “Where is she now?”

“Got out an’ married,” said Fluff. “Lives in a hell of a place down Biarritz way.” He turned to Jonah. “I think you’ve changed,” he said. “First you go an’ get stung, an’ then you come an’ sit here an’ waste your time.”

My cousin smiled.

“Don’t be rude to yourself,” he said. “I always liked talking to you. You say the Plazas won’t work the oracle?”

“They can’t,” said Fluff. “That’s what’s been spoiling my rest. What sort of a chance does an amateur stand with a fence? A fence is a pro. You go an’ pick up a parcel and see what you get.” He drank abruptly. Then he set down his glass and pushed back his hat. “You’ve thrown away those jewels. That’s what you’ve done. Some lazy, pot-bellied fence is going to pouch the lot for a couple of thousand pounds.” He thrust his cigar between his teeth “A couple of thousand—if that.”

“A couple of thousand!” cried Berry. “But, man alive, the pearls alone were worth——”

“In open market,” said Fluff. “That’s a very different thing. But they don’t like me at Christie’s—I don’t know why.”

My cousin rubbed his nose.

“A couple of thousand,” he said. “How much would you have got?”

Fluff appeared to consider.

“I know the pearls,” he said. “Known ’em for years.” He looked at Berry. “But I never see the bracelets your lady wore. Then there’s her necklace and rings and other small stuff. Half a minute. I think Sweaty knows them cuffs. I’ll see what he says.”

He rose to his feet and strolled to the place he had left at the end of the room.

Berry watched his going like a man in a dream.

“ ‘Sweaty knows them cuffs’,” he said. “What a very compelling thought. Sweaty. Supposing one winter’s night Sweaty had had an urge to—to get to know them better ... down at White Ladies ... this winter, when George was ill. I’m damned if I’m going round that house any more.”

Jonah shrugged his shoulders.

“If he’d dreamed they were there, he would have. I’ve told you a dozen times to keep them in Town.”

“I shall always treasure,” said I, “Fluff’s point of view. He’s a definite grievance against us. He considers we’ve let him down.”

“You must remember,” said Jonah, “that every decent burglar loathes and detests the fence. He can’t do without him, and the fence exploits that fact. You’ll be amazed when you hear what he says he’d have got. As for the Plazas.... What Casca can do I don’t know. I rather fancy he’d—er—take the fence in his stride.”

Here Fluff returned to our table and took the seat he had left.

“Yes,” he said, “Sweaty knows ’em. He says they were very fine. I’d have got fourteen thousand pounds for that little lot.”

“Would you indeed?” said Jonah.

“I would that,” said Fluff. “So you see what you’ve gone and done.”

Jonah took his pipe from his mouth and frowned at the bowl.

“That’s a healthy lump,” he said. “But twenty thousand pounds is half as healthy again.”

The other shot him a glance.

“That’s mathematics,” he said. “What if it is?”

“Twenty thousand pounds,” said my cousin, “is what the underwriters offer for the recovery of the jewels.”

Fluff looked him up and down.

“I told you you’d changed,” he said. “There must have been things in that wine that troubled the brain. I’m not a —— policeman.”

“Neither are we,” said Jonah. “But we’re going after that stuff. And if you come in with us, you can have the reward.”

With his eyes on my cousin’s face, the other sat very still. Presently he leaned forward.

“You’re goin’ after them, are you? What do you know?”

“I know who took them,” said Jonah. “I know who schooled the Plazas and held them up in his arms to reach the fruit.”

“You told the police?”

“Now don’t be rude,” said Jonah. “You know as well as I do, I won’t have that. I don’t mind being chipped, but I stand no lip from you or anyone else. If you don’t like the rules of the game, you needn’t play.”

So far from being abashed, Fluff seemed relieved.

“That’s more like it,” he said. “That’s like what you used to be.”

“You haven’t changed, either,” said Jonah. “You never respected a dog till he showed his teeth. How many times have I told you?”

“As you were,” said Fluff. “And it’s my mistake. When I saw two Willies had stung you, I put you up on the shelf.”

“Well, take me down,” said Jonah. “Because a man slips up, it doesn’t follow he’s lost the use of his legs. And now about this business. I know who took the stuff and I know where he is. He’s not a pro. He’s something very special. It’ll take us all we know to bring him down. More than we know, in fact. And that’s why I’m offering you a chance to come in.”

“He’s not a pro.,” said Fluff. “Are you sure of that?”

“Certain sure,” said my cousin. “He’s out of that little crowd that I used to call ‘A.S.’ ”

“ ‘Above Suspicion’,” cried Fluff, and slapped his thigh. “Gosh, I remember that book. I never see the inside, but I know you ’ad nine names down. What did you do with it? Burn it? We only got three.”

“Yes, I burned it,” said Jonah. “And to get three wasn’t too bad. And now what about it? If we don’t get home, there’s nothing for anyone. But if we do, there’s twenty thousand sovereigns into your lap. We pay expenses, of course. They shouldn’t be high.”

“It’s a heap of money,” said Fluff reverently.

“It’ll take some making,” said Jonah. “Be sure of that. And it’s not a question of putting the man on his back. He hasn’t the stuff in his pocket, and it’s the stuff we want.”

“Safe deposit,” said Fluff. “Sure as a gun.”

“Exactly,” said Jonah. “As long as it’s there we’ve just about as much chance as a fish in a petrol-tank. We’ve got to make him withdraw it before we strike.”

“Quite,” said Fluff, nodding. “We don’t want another Dufau.”

Jonah turned to Berry and me.

“Dufau is the leading case on the folly of striking too soon. Cully Dufau got away with eighty thousand pounds worth of pearls. They took him, and he got twenty years. They weigh you out time in France.”

“You’re right,” said Fluff warmly. “The ——s.”

“But they never got the stuff,” said Jonah. “Not one little pearl. While Dufau was doing his time, pearls came in. And when he came out, they were worth four times what they were when he put them away. He’s getting on now, but he’s got a villa near Grasse and a couple of cars.”

“That’s right,” said Fluff. “An’ a butler to ’old the door an’ take off his boots. Still, twenty thousand’s all right. I’d buy my father a pub. He’s a good old crow, and he’s always wanted a pub. The country’s his ideal. A ’ouse of call in the country, an’ a garden full o’ roses an’ cocks an’ ’ens. I’ve heard him talkin’ it over a thousand times.”

This unsuspected piety warmed my heart. I began to like Fluff very much.

“Well, it’s up to you,” said Jonah.

There was a little silence. The band was playing—of all things—The Eton Boating Song. The strains of the famous valse swayed and rose and faded with all the tight-laced elegance of the Victorian age. In a flash I was skirting the ball-room I first adorned, shy, gloved, awkward, programme in hand. I saw the chaperons against the walls and the glassy eye of the matron whose charge I had contracted to claim. I heard the slow swish of the dresses and watched the uniform movement with which the floor was alive and I marked the frowns of disapproval which a girl with short hair provoked. I found myself wondering what they would have said to Bermuda. I am inclined to think that there would have been a stampede.

“All right, I’ll come in,” said Fluff. He drained his glass. When I would have called for more whiskey, he shook his head. “And now who took them jewels? Don’t say it’s some high muck-a-muck.”

“Not at all,” said Jonah. “It’s a very great friend of ours.”

Fluff opened his eyes.

“What, not the Frenchy?” he said. “That lost a cigarette-case he had of the King?”

“That’s the cove,” said Jonah, and told his tale.

When he had done—

“Very hot,” said Fluff. “An’ I’m not surprised you didn’t explain to the police. They’d have helped—I don’t think. Never mind. You’re right, of course. The Plazas played the hand, but he gave ’em the book o’ the words. An’ we shan’t land him by ticklin’.”

“Never,” said Jonah. “He’ll want a hell of a fly. But we’ve got one thing in our favour, and that is time. He’s not in any hurry. He’s waited years for that stuff, and, now that he’s got it, he’s not going to rush to turn it into a cheque.”

“That cuts both ways,” said I. “So long as it lies in a vault, what on earth can we do? And he may keep it there for years.”

“True,” said Jonah. “But I’d rather it lay in a vault than went overseas. The moment it leaves the country we’ve lost the match. But as long as it lies in a vault, we’ve always got a chance of making him get it out.”

“I commend direct action,” said Berry. “He’s coming to stay with us. Let’s tie him up and starve him until he hands us the key. When his stomach begins to argue, he’ll listen to that.”

“Too big a risk,” said Jonah. “If it doesn’t come off, we’re beaten once for all. You can bet your life he’s lodged the key at his Bank.”

“What if he has? He can write to the Bank and tell them to give it to us. We make it plain to him that water is what he lives on until we handle the jewels.”

“That’s no good,” said Fluff. “You don’t get me taking no papers into a Bank. Makes me go hot all over. What if he’s signed ’em wrong? A cove like that’ll put up a thousand bluffs. And you’ve got to call ’em, sonny. That’s the snag. No, no. The Captain’s right. We’ll want a fly and a half for this old fish.”

“I should very much like,” said Jonah, “to have a look at his mail. Will you see what you can do in that way? He lives in a flat, and the postman leaves the letters down in the porter’s lodge.”

“That sounds all right,” said Fluff. “Let’s have the address. You’ll have a room near, of course. The porter won’t want to hold them for more than one post.”

“That’s right,” said Jonah. “What about Friday next?”

“That ought to do,” said Fluff.

“Aren’t you banking a lot,” said I, “on the porter’s being a rogue? Supposing——”

“At fifty francs a letter?” said Fluff. “Where was you born?”

My cousin took out a note-book and wrote down de Palk’s address. Below this he wrote down ours. Then he tore out the leaf and gave it to Fluff.

“To be destroyed,” he said, “before you get into the train.”

The other groaned.

“ ‘To be learned by ’eart,’ ” he quoted. “Who ever told me you’d changed?”

My cousin smiled.

“Where can I find you?” he said.

Fluff named a street in Paris of which I had never heard.

“Very good,” said Jonah. “I’ll let you know where to bring the letters along.” He took some notes from his pocket and laid them down on the cloth. “And there’s five thousand francs. Mind you pick him up before Friday. One never knows, and I want you to see his face.”

Fluff folded the notes and slid them into his coat.

“Not ’alf what I do,” he said.

The unexpected warmth of his words delighted the ear.

“We’re off,” cried Berry. “We’re off.”

“Not yet,” said Jonah. “But I hope very much that we’re coming up to the gate.”

“You never can tell,” said Fluff. “The mail may help, or it mayn’t. But I’ve known the art of writin’ put a rope round more than one neck.”

“That’ll do,” said Jonah. “Why d’you want to see him so much?”

Fluff stared in reply.

“Because I love him, of course. ‘His face is my fortune, sir,’ she said.”

“Put it away,” said Jonah. “I’m not a child. It’s a chance in a million, of course. But you know as well as I do you’re hoping you’ve seen him before.”

“Your eye’s not dim,” said Fluff. “If he’s the man, I saw him away in Chicago before the War. He was properly screwed one night at a low-down hall. He could have been skinned alive, but nobody liked to touch him because he was using Bethgelert’s private box.”

“And who’s Bethgelert?” said Jonah.

“The high-an’-mightiest fence in the U.S.A.”