The Air Pirate
"And you learnt ...?"
"That Major Helzephron is all we have just heard, but a far more
sinister and formidable person than anyone suspects. He is a man of
marked intellectual powers. Below the veneer of coarse pleasures and
fast life in London and Paris, there is something that glows like a hot
coal. His appearances in town are irregular and fitful. His real life,
Brookfield is certain of this, is lived far away from cities. And it is
_a life with a purpose_."
Quite suddenly and unexpectedly Mr. Danjuro began to reveal himself.
The last words were spoken in a changed voice. The flatness and monotony
had vanished. The words vibrated in the room, and I felt the thrill of
them. It was the power of personality, and from then onwards I was hand
in glove with this bizarre thinking machine that Fate had sent me.
I tried to emulate Danjuro's dispassionate and scientific method.
"It is curious," I said, "that a real intellect should care to spend
part of its time in rake-helling round the low clubs, the gambling-rooms
and stage-doors of London. Such a thing is known, but it is rare."
"You put your finger instantly upon what seems a weak spot in my
character sketch. But let us assume that it has been done with a deep
motive."
"Ah!" He knew, or suspected, something more. He referred to his
notebook.
"Two years ago a certain Mr. Herbert Gascoigne was expelled from Christ
Church College, Oxford."
"Sent down, we call it; but go on."
"The case was a bad one. The young man had established a sort of
gambling club and ruined several of his contemporaries. It was
discovered that he was using a roulette wheel that had been tampered
with. He came to London and drifted into the worst gang of swindlers.
Major Helzephron met him. They became very friendly. The younger man was
obviously under the influence of the elder. Finally Gascoigne deserted
his old haunts and has disappeared."
I began to see light.
"On several occasions my astute friend, Mr. Brookfield, has witnessed
precisely the same phenomenon. Some young man of the upper classes has
been ruined socially, and our enigmatic friend has taken him up, been
seen about with him, and so forth. Finally the young man vanishes."
"It is not philanthropy, Mr. Danjuro."
"It is not, and it gives rise to curious speculations. Where could a
Napoleonic criminal, patiently planning and meditating a stupendous
coup, find a better recruiting ground than among the desperate and
ruined young men of his own class? The plan is in itself evidence of
genius. They speak his language, he understands their way of thought;
there are a thousand bonds between them. I can conceive no more solid
and formidable combination than just this. The one last virtue remaining
to these desperate and outcast young men will be loyalty to their
leader. Society has cast them out, therefore they will make war on
Society. Given that attitude of mind, a leader like Major Helzephron,
and a plan so daring, and the thing becomes plain as daylight. And if
this man had not fallen into an overmastering passion for Miss Shepherd
there would have been no means of getting on his trail at all."
It was only with great difficulty that I could control my thoughts. We
seemed miles nearer the truth than I had been an hour ago. Then one idea
emerged clearly.
"Quite so. And isn't it all in our favour that we, and we alone, are in
a position to connect Helzephron with the piracy? He will think himself
perfectly secure?"
"I do not for a moment believe," Danjuro replied with emphasis, "that a
single soul besides ourselves has the least suspicion. The man will have
taken supreme care to cover his tracks. My inquiries could have
suggested nothing to the people I interviewed. Mr. Brookfield thinks I
required my information for quite another reason. Yes, Sir John, we have
a task of immense difficulty and danger before us. You must recognize
that to the full. My sincere belief is that it would be somewhat safer
to venture into a cage of cobras than where we have to go. But"--he took
out his watch--"it is five o'clock. Let us say that the game begins at
this moment! Very well. We, and not the enemy, have scored the first
point!"
He suddenly glided from his chair with a single sinuous movement. As he
stood up he was transformed. The bland modern look faded from his face.
It grew terrible. The eyes narrowed to slits of light, the square jaw
protruded, the grey lips were caught up in a tiger-grin, and the slim
body seemed to swell out with iron muscle like a wrestler stripped in
the arena.
You have seen some of the real old Japanese colour-prints, pictures of
the ancient Samurai or the frightful Akudogi shouting at you--yes? The
flat, awful stolidity, the incarnate hate....
Then you have seen something of what I saw then.
Wow! Millionaire Van Adams was well served!
CHAPTER VII
THE CURIOUS FIGHT IN THE RESTAURANT
"It is a good deal to ask, Sir John," said Danjuro briskly, "but, for
the moment, will you place yourself entirely in my hands?"
"I am perfectly content to do so."
"Then permit me to press the bell." He did so.
"I left a black bag in the hall," Danjuro said politely when Thumbwood
came in. "Would you please let me have it?"
The bag was brought. Danjuro placed it on the table and opened it.
"You are very well known, Sir John," he remarked. "Major Helzephron and
his friends have either seen you at some time or other, or have
certainly seen the numerous pictures of you that have appeared in the
newspapers during the last few days. It is imperative that you change
your appearance at once. I foresaw that and have brought materials."
I am afraid I whistled with dismay. The idea didn't please me in the
very least. "Is it really necessary?..."
"Absolutely. But it will not inconvenience you. Will you go into your
bedroom and clip off your moustache with scissors, afterwards shaving
the upper lip clean? You see, the man who leaves London to-night must
not in the least resemble the Chief Commissioner of Air Police."
I went and did it. I had to. When the operation was over I shouldn't
have known myself, it made such a difference. I never knew that I had
such a grim and forbidding mouth!
I returned to the sitting-room. Mr. Danjuro did not make the least
comment, but he removed my collar and tie with the deftness of a barber
and fastened a towel round my neck. Then he sponged my skin all over
with some faintly pink stuff out of a bottle. When he had done that, he
began on my hair with something else, and finally my eyebrows.
"May I ask what you are doing?" I said after a time.
"I am dyeing your hair black, Sir John. The dye can be removed at any
time. The appearance is absolutely natural. The drug I am using is not
generally known. I procure it from a friend in the Honcho Dori at
Yokohama, and also the liquid which has already changed your skin from
blond to swarthy. I will treat your hands in a minute."
I suppose I was three-quarters of an hour under his ministrations
before he stepped back and looked at me critically. "Part your hair in
the centre, instead of at the side, wear a low collar instead of a high
one, and spectacles--they can be of plain glass--and you need not have
the slightest fear of recognition. In fact, Sir John, as far as outward
appearance goes, you have already ceased to exist!"
There was a mirror over the mantel-shelf. I stood up and looked. It was
marvellous! It was uncanny, too. A dark-haired, dark-skinned stranger
leered out of the glass at me, and I turned away with mingled feelings
of amazement and disgust.
"Do you drive an automobile?" the Japanese asked.
I jumped at the suddenness of the question, for my thoughts were far
away. "Yes, I have a touring car of my own in a neighbouring garage."
"It will be better not to use it. We shall take one of Mr. Van Adams'
cars. It is ready."
I laughed. "I've a lot to hear yet, you know, Mr. Danjuro, though I have
placed myself in your hands without reserve. But you made very sure of
me beforehand, didn't you?"
"It is Mr. Van Adams' command," he answered simply, and I reflected that
here, indeed, was a man with a single soul.
"We shall leave London at midnight," he went on, "and drive through the
whole of the night. I, also, am an expert chauffeur, and we can relieve
each other."
"Thumbwood can drive, too. Of course we take him with us?"
"He will be of the greatest assistance. Now, Sir John, if you want to
take a little sleep, now is the time. I should like to consult with your
servant, if I may, and have a chat with him. We shall have a good deal
to do with one another."
Strangely enough, I did feel drowsy, despite my excitement. A couple of
hours' sleep would refresh me wonderfully, and I knew it.
"Very well; I think it is a good suggestion. Say for two hours."
"By all means. I will carry out some other arrangements meanwhile. You
shall have full explanations later on, and I thank you sincerely for the
confidence you have reposed in me."
While we were talking we had left the room and crossed the hall.
"A pleasant sleep," he said, politely opening the door for me. "We will
go and have a look at Major Helzephron later on."
"_What?_" I shouted.
"He is in London. I have never seen him and I must certainly do so."
"In London?" I cried, a dozen conflicting thoughts crowding and
crushing into my mind.
"... It is the reason that we leave London to-night."
Then he had shut the door on me and was gone. I had known him less than
two hours. I was a man accustomed to rule, whose whole life was spent in
giving orders, and I lay down on my bed like a lamb without a further
question. And, what is more, I did exactly as Mr. Danjuro had said. I
fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
At a little after eight Mr. Danjuro and myself sat at dinner at the
Restaurant Mille Colonnes. Most people know that expensive and luxurious
home of epicures, with Nicholas, its stout and arrogant proprietor, and
M. Dulac, its famous chef.
We sat in the south gallery, at the extreme end, against the wall. The
electric lights in the roof above us had been extinguished, and our
table was lighted by candles in red shades. Indeed, we sat in a sort of
darkness which must have made us almost invisible to the other diners,
most of whom sat in the longer arm of the gallery at right angles to our
own.
We, on the contrary, could see everything. We could look over the gilded
rail into the hall of the restaurant below, and every detail of the
gallery on our own level was clear and distinct, though there was such
a towering erection of flowers and ferns in the centre of our table that
it obscured what would otherwise have been a perfect view.
I wore a low, turned-down collar and a dark flannel suit. Danjuro, also,
had changed his clothes, and, in some real but indefinite way, his
appearance. He wore a flannel suit and a straw hat, and also a necktie
which I suddenly spotted as that of my old college, Christ Church,
Oxford. But the extraordinary thing about him was that he seemed fifteen
years younger.
He had promised to explain at the "Mille Colonnes." As we began upon the
salted prawns and the stuffed olives he did so.
"You are now Mr. Johns, an Oxford tutor, Sir John. I am a young Japanese
gentleman, my own name will serve, whom you are coaching. We are going
into the country with this disguise. It is one which will easily account
for your being in the company of an Asiatic gentleman, and which you
will have no difficulty in sustaining."
It was, indeed, a simple and excellent plan for avoiding undue
curiosity. I said so, and then: "Now perhaps you will tell me where we
are going. I have my ideas...."
"We are going west," he answered gravely. "To Cornwall."