The Woman of Mystery Part 36

"That's it, a touch of the thumb, no more. I've worked at it myself and everything's ready. But you spoke to me of another plan, to complete the first; and I confess that that one . . ."

"It's got to be done. Luck is turning against us. If I succeed, it will be the end of the run on the black."

"And have you the Kaiser's consent?"

"I didn't ask for it. It's one of those undertakings one doesn't talk about."

"But this one is terribly dangerous, _Excellenz_."

"Can't be helped."

"Sha'n't you want me over there, _Excellenz_?"

"No. Get rid of the chit for us. That will be enough for the present.

Good-bye."

"Good-bye, _Excellenz_."

The spy released the brakes. The car started.

The drive which ran round the central lawn led to a lodge which stood beside the garden-gate and which served as a guard-room. The high walls surrounding the grounds rose on either side of it.

An officer came out of the lodge. Karl gave the pa.s.s-word, "Hohenstaufen." The gate was opened and the motor dashed down a high-road which first pa.s.sed through the little town of ebrecourt and next wound among low hills.

So Paul Delroze, at an hour before midnight, was alone in the open country, with elisabeth and Karl the spy. If he succeeded in mastering the spy, as he did not doubt that he could, elisabeth would be free.

There would then remain nothing to do but to return to Prince Conrad's villa, with the aid of the pa.s.s-word, and pick up Bernard there. Once the adventure was completed in accordance with Paul's designs, the tunnel would bring back all the three of them to the Chateau d'Ornequin.

Paul therefore gave way to the delight that was stealing over him.

elisabeth was with him, under his protection: elisabeth, whose courage, no doubt, had yielded under the weight of her trials, but who had a claim upon his indulgence because her misfortunes were due to his fault.

He forgot, he wished to forget all the ugly phases in the tragedy, in order to think only of the end that was near at hand, his wife's triumph and deliverance.

He watched the road attentively, so as not to miss his way when returning, and planned out his attack, fixing it at the first stop which they would have to make. He resolved that he would not kill the spy, but that he would stun him with a blow of his fist and, after knocking him down and binding him, throw him into some wood by the road-side.

They came to a fair-sized market-town, then two villages and then a town where they had to stop and show the car's papers. It was past eleven.

Then once more they were driving along country lanes which ran through a series of little woods whose trees lit up as they pa.s.sed.

At that moment, the light of the lamps began to fail. Karl slackened speed. He growled:

"You dolt, can't you even keep your lamps alight? Have you got any carbide?"

Paul did not reply. Karl went on cursing his luck. Suddenly, he put on the brakes, with an oath:

"You blasted idiot! One can't go on like this. . . . Here, stir your stumps and light up."

Paul sprang from his seat, while the car drew up by the road-side. The time had come to act.

He first attended to the lamps, keeping an eye upon the spy's movements and taking care to stand outside the rays. Karl got down, opened the door of the car, and started a conversation which Paul could not hear.

Then he came back to where Paul was:

"Well, pudding-head, haven't you done yet?"

Paul had his back turned to him, attending to his work and waiting for the propitious moment when the spy, coming two steps nearer, would be within his reach.

A minute elapsed. He clenched his fists. He foresaw the exact movement which he would have to make and was on the point of making it, when suddenly he felt himself seized round the body from behind and brought to the ground without being able to offer the least resistance.

"Thunder and lightning!" cried the spy, holding him down with his knee.

"So that's why you wouldn't answer? . . . It struck me somehow that you were behaving queerly. . . . And then I never gave it another thought.

. . . It was the lamp, just now, that threw a light on your side-face.

. . . But who is the fellow I've got hold of? Some dog of a Frenchman, may be?"

Paul had stiffened his muscles and believed for a moment that he would succeed in escaping from the other's grip. The enemy's strength was yielding; Paul gradually seemed to master him; and he exclaimed:

"Yes, a Frenchman, Paul Delroze, the one you used to try and kill, the husband of elisabeth, your victim. . . . Yes, it's I; and I know who you are: you're Laschen, the sham Belgian; you're Karl the spy."

He stopped. The spy, who had only weakened his effort to draw a dagger from his belt, was now raising it against him:

"Ah, Paul Delroze! . . . G.o.d's truth, this'll be a lucky trip! . . .

First the husband and then the wife. . . . Ah, so you came running into my clutches! . . . Here, take this, my lad! . . ."

Paul saw the gleam of a blade flas.h.i.+ng above his face. He closed his eyes, uttering elisabeth's name.

Another second; and three shots rang out in rapid succession. Some one was firing from behind the group formed by the two adversaries.

The spy swore a hideous oath. His grip became relaxed. The weapon in the hand trembled and he fell flat on the ground, moaning:

"Oh, the cursed woman! . . . That cursed woman! . . . I ought to have strangled her in the car. . . . I knew this would happen. . . ."

His voice failed him. He stammered:

"I've got it this time. . . . Oh, that cursed woman! . . . And the pain . . . !"

Then he was silent. A few convulsions, a dying gasp and that was all.

Paul had leapt to his feet. He ran to the woman who had saved his life and who was still holding her revolver in her hand:

"elisabeth!" he cried, wild with delight.

But he stopped, with his arms outstretched. In the dark, the woman's figure did not seem to him to be elisabeth's, but a taller and broader figure. He blurted out, in a tone of infinite anguish:

"elisabeth . . . is it you? . . . Is it really you? . . ."

And at the same time he intuitively knew the answer which he was about to hear:

"No," said the woman, "Mme. Delroze started a little before us, in another motor. Karl and I were to join her."

Paul remembered that car, of which he and Bernard had thought that he heard the sound when going round the villa. As the two starts had taken place with an interval of a few minutes at most between them, he cried: