The Golden Face Part 29

Such was the welcome news His Excellency imparted to me, and you may imagine that I lost no time in writing out a well-concealed message to Rayne, and sending it by the manservant to the telegraph office.

For a long time I sat with His Excellency, and then he rose, inviting me to walk with him in the Boris Gardens, as was his habit every afternoon, before going down to the sitting of the Sobranje, or Parliament.

On our way we pa.s.sed Va.s.sos, who raised his hat politely to me.

"Who's that man?" inquired the Minister quickly, and I told him all I knew concerning the old fellow.

He grunted.

In the pretty public garden we were strolling together in the sundown, chatting upon the European unrest after the war, the new loan, and other matters, when, of a sudden, a black-mustached man in a dark grey overcoat and a round fur cap sprang from the bushes at a lonely spot, and, raising a big service revolver, fired point-blank at His Excellency.

I felt for my own weapon. Alas! it was not there! _I had forgotten it!_

The a.s.sa.s.sin, seeing the Minister reel and fall, turned his weapon upon me. Thereupon in an instant I threw up my hands, crying that I was unarmed, and an Englishman.

As I did so, he started back as though terrified, and with a spring he disappeared again into the bushes.

All had happened in a few brief instants, for ere I could realize that a tragedy had actually occurred, I found the unfortunate Minister lying lifeless at my feet. My friend had been shot through the heart!

It was a repet.i.tion of the a.s.sa.s.sination of the Minister Stambuloff.

Readers of the newspapers will recollect the tragic affair which is, no doubt, still fresh in their minds.

I told the Chief of Police of Sofia of my strange experience, and showed him the mark upon my palm. Though detectives searched high and low for the Greek, for Madame Sovoff, and for the fascinating mademoiselle, none of them was ever found.

The a.s.sa.s.sin was, nevertheless, arrested a week later, while trying to cross the frontier into Serbia. I, of course, lost by an ace Rayne's great financial _coup_, but before execution the prisoner made a confession which revealed the existence of a terrible and widespread conspiracy, fostered by Turkey, to remove certain members of the Cabinet who were in favor of British protection and a.s.sistance.

Quite unconsciously I had, it seemed, become an especial favorite of the silent, watchful old Konstantinos Va.s.sos. Fearing lest I, in my innocence, should fall a victim with His Excellency--being so often his companion--he had, with the a.s.sistance of the pretty Marie Balesco, contrived to impress upon my palm the secret sign of the conspirators.

To this fact I certainly owe my life, for the a.s.sa.s.sin--a stranger to Sofia, who had been drawn by lot--would, no doubt, have shot me dead, had he not seen the secret sign upon my raised hand.

When I returned to Overstow and related my strange adventure, Rayne was furious that just at the very moment when the deal by which he was to reap such a huge profit was complete, our friend the Minister should have been a.s.sa.s.sinated.

Lola was in the room when I described all that had occurred, listening breathlessly to my narrative.

I showed them both the strange mark upon my palm, a brand which I suppose I shall bear to my dying day.

"Then you really owe your life to that girl Balesco, Mr. Hargreave?"

she said, raising her fine dark eyes to mine.

"I certainly do," I replied.

Her father grunted, and after congratulating me upon my escape, said:

"You had nothing to complain about regarding t.i.teroff, and the a.s.sistance he and Mayhew gave you--eh?"

"Nothing. Without them I could never have acted. Indeed, I could never have approached the Minister Petkoff."

"Yes," he remarked reflectively. "They're both wily birds. t.i.teroff feathered his nest well when he was in Constantinople, and Mayhew is there because of a little bit of serious trouble in Genoa a couple of years ago. Of course you never mentioned my name--eh?"

"I only mentioned you as Mr. Goodwin--as you told me," I replied.

He smiled.

"They remembered me, of course?"

"Yes, when I delivered your note of introduction to t.i.teroff, he at once made me welcome, and seemed much surprised that I was acquainted with his friend, Mr. Goodwin."

It was now evident, as I had suspected, that the two men who were so eager to serve me were international crooks, and members of the great gang which Rayne controlled.

"Just describe the man Va.s.sos as fully as you can," urged Rayne.

In consequence I went into a minute description of the fussy old Greek, to which Rayne listened most interestedly.

"Yes," he said at last. "But tell me one thing. Did you notice if he had any deformity?"

"Well--he walked with a distinct limp."

"And his hand?"

"The little finger on his left hand was deformed," I replied. "I now remember it."

"Ah!" he cried in instant anger. "As I thought! It was old Boukaris--the sly old devil. How, I wonder, did he know that I had sent you to Sofia? He, no doubt, saved you by putting that mark on your hand, Hargreave; but the brutes have been one too many for me, and have done me down!"

CHAPTER XVI

THE MAN WHO WAS SHY

Some two months after that curious experience in Sofia, we were guests of some friends of Rayne's called Baynes, who lived at Enderby Manor, a few miles out of Winchester.

The reason of our visit was somewhat obscure, yet as far as I could gather it had no connection with "business." So Rayne, Lola, and myself spent a very pleasant four days with one of the most charming families I think I have ever met.

Enderby was a beautiful old place lying back in a great park and surrounded by woods, half-way between Winchester and Romsey, and George Baynes, who had made a fortune in South America, and whose wife was a Brazilian lady, was a splendid host.

One bright afternoon Rayne had gone off somewhere with Mr. Baynes, so I found Lola and we both went for a stroll in the beautiful woods.

For a long time we chatted merrily, when, of a sudden--I don't exactly know how it happened--but I took her hand, and, looking straight into her eyes, I declared my pa.s.sion for her.

I must have taken her unawares, for she drew back with a strange, half-frightened expression. Her breath came and went in quick gasps, and when she found her tongue, she replied:

"No, George. It is impossible--quite impossible!"

"Why?" I demanded quickly. "I love you, Lola. Can you never reciprocate my affection?"

She shook her head sadly, but still allowing me to hold her soft little hand.