The Girl Philippa
... What you say does not frighten me.... I refuse to return! ...
Because I am now in an honest business for myself.... Yes, it is an
honest business. I am permitted to pose for an artist of great
distinction.... What you _say_ does not frighten me; but what you _are_
does cause me some apprehension. And knowing as much as I do know about
you, I seriously advise you to leave France.... No, I haven't said such
a thing to anybody else, but I am likely to, so you had better hasten to
leave for America. Yes, I will tell you why, if you wish. It is because
there are always two millstones when anything is to be crushed. War is
now beginning to bring those two stones together. The mill wheel
already is turning! When the two millstones meet, the little meal worm
that has remained between them so long in safety is going to be
crushed.... Oh, yes, you _do_ know what I mean! You also know whom I
mean. Very well, then, if you don't I'll tell you this much: _double
wages_ never are paid by a _single_ master. I learned that yesterday
when you gave me the _wrong_ paper to forward to Paris with the others.
Fortunately for you, I read it. I then burnt it to ashes and took my
clothes and my punt and my departure! I might have continued to endure
what you had accustomed me to. But _two_ masters! Faugh! The horror
of it! ... Fear? If you really think _that_ of me, then you have never
really known me. It was disgust and shame that drove me toward
liberty.... Yes, this that I say is final.... You _dare_ not interfere!
... Then I'll say this: if you do not leave France now, _at once_, in
this moment of her peril, I _will_ tell what I know to the first soldier
of France who crosses my path! ... I am not afraid of you, I tell
you.... Believe me, you are well rid of me.... I warn you, in God's
name, to let me alone!"
She hung up the receiver, turned, and mounted the stairs with flying
feet, but at the top landing Halkett's quiet voice halted her.
"I was listening, Philippa. What that man says or does may cost me
dear. What did he want of you?"
"Mr. Halkett," leaning swiftly toward him over the handrail above--"he
is the most ignoble of creatures! And after five years I learned only
yesterday that he sells his filthy secrets in _two_ markets!--Three,
perhaps; _I_ don't know how many! And I no longer care! It ceases to
interest _me_!"
"Wait! It interests _me_!"
"But I can't say any more to you than I have----"
"Why not?"
"I don't know. _Can_ I? You know better than I. But I don't wish to
betray anybody, even such a man as--as----"
"Wildresse?"
"Yes."
"Is he also betraying France?"
"I--I don't know. I suppose it is that. I haven't yet tried to
comprehend it----"
"What was the paper you started to forward, then read, and finally
burned?"
"It was a letter directed to a Mr. Esser. He is a German."
"The head of the Esser Cement Works?"
"Yes."
"What was in the letter?"
"A list of the guns in the Ausone Fort and a plan of the emplacements on
tissue paper.... Perhaps I am stupid, but I could guess what a German
wanted with a plan of a French fort! It was enough for me! I took my
punt and my effects and I departed!"
"You burnt the letter?"
"In my candle. Also, I wrote on a piece of paper, 'You damned traitor!'
and I pinned it on his door. Then I went out by the garden door with my
leather trunk on my head!"
"Come down when you are dressed," said Halkett, and walked back through
the hallway to the garden.
"Warner," he said, "this old spider, Wildresse, is certainly a bad lot.
I'd have him arrested by French gendarmes if I were certain that England
is going in. But I dare not chance it until I'm sure. Perhaps I dare
not chance it at all, because if he has had anything to do with Gray's
disappearance, as I am beginning to suspect, it would not do to have the
French authorities examine my papers."
"Why?"
"Because--if they have already seized Gray's papers, they will secure
military information which perhaps my Government might not care to have
even an ally possess. I don't know whether Gray is living or dead; I
don't know who has Gray's papers at this instant. That's the trouble.
And I'm hanged if I know what to do! I'm stumped, and that's the
devilish truth!"
He took a few quick, uncertain steps along the flower beds, turned, came
back to the arbor where Warner was seated:
"It's a mess!" he said. "Even if agents employed by Wildresse have
robbed Gray--murdered him, perhaps, to do it--I don't know what
Wildresse means to do with Gray's papers."
"What!"
Halkett nodded:
"Yes, he's _that_ kind! Pleasant, isn't it? If he has Gray's papers,
it may be France that will pay him for them; it may be that Germany has
already bought and paid for them. In either case, carrying the papers I
carry, I hesitate to ask for his arrest. Do you understand?"
"Very clearly. If there is any way you can think of to get hold of this
scoundrel, I'll be glad to help. Shall we drive over to Ausone and try?"
"You're very kind, Warner. I don't know; I want to think it over----"
He turned and walked back to the house, entered the hallway, unhooked
the telephone, and finally was given a connection--not the one he had
asked for.
A voice said curtly:
"During mobilization no private messages are transmitted." Click! And
the connection was severed. Again and again he made the attempt; no
further attention was paid to his ringing. Finally he hung up the
receiver and started to go out through the front doorway.
As he crossed the threshold, a young man in tweeds rode up on a bicycle,
stepped off, and, lifting his cap to Halkett, said politely:
"Monsieur Halkett, if you please? Is he still residing here at the
Golden Peach?"
Halkett's right hand dropped carelessly into the side pocket of his
coat. When he had cocked his automatic, he said pleasantly:
"I am Mr. Halkett."
The young man said smilingly, in perfect English:
"Do you expect a friend, Mr. Halkett?"
"Perhaps."
"Possibly you expect a Mr. Reginald Gray?"
"Possibly."
"He has been injured."
"Really?"
"Yes, rather seriously. He lost control of his motor cycle two nights
ago. He was on his way to join you here."
"Indeed?"
"So he told me before he became unconscious."
"Is he still unconscious?"
"No, but he is too weak to move."
"Where is he?"
"At my house, in Bois d'Avril. I was motoring that evening, and I found
him in the road, insensible. So I lifted him into my car, slung his
motor cycle on behind, and went top speed for home. He's in my own
house in Bois d'Avril. The physician thinks he will recover."
"What is your telephone number?" asked Halkett bluntly.
The young man gave it, adding that the transmission of private messages
had, unfortunately, been suspended during mobilization. Which Halkett
knew to be true.
"Very well," he said, "I shall go to Bois d'Avril at once----"
"It is not necessary; I have a message for you, and some papers from Mr.
Gray."
"Really?"
The young man smiled, drew from his inner pocket a long, thin envelope,
and handed it to Halkett. The latter held it in his hand, looking
steadily into the stranger's pleasant face for a full minute, then he
coolly opened the envelope.
Inside were the missing papers concerning the Harkness shell, complete.
There could be no doubt concerning their identity; he recognized them at
a glance. A deep sigh of relief escaped him.
He said:
"There's no use trying to thank you----"
"It's quite all right," interrupted the young man smilingly. "If you
don't mind offering me a drink--the road over was rather dusty----"
"Leave your wheel there and come in!" exclaimed Halkett cordially,
stepping aside in the doorway.
The young man laid his bicycle against the steps, turned with a smile,
and entered the doorway.
As he passed, he turned like lightning and struck Halkett full between
the eyes with his clenched fist.
*CHAPTER XIV*
The terrific impact of the blow sent Halkett reeling across the
threshold. Partly stunned, he caught at the banisters, groping
instinctively for the pistol. And already he had contrived to drag it
clear of his side pocket when another blow sent him staggering back
against the stair rail; the pistol flew out of his hand and went
spinning down the hallway over the polished floor.
As Halkett crashed into the banisters and fell full length, Philippa, in
her red skirt and bodice, appeared on the stairs above.
The young man, who had dropped on his knees beside Halkett, and who had
already torn open his coat, caught sight of the girl as she flew past
him down the stairs; and he leaped to his feet to intercept her.
On the newel-post stood a tall, wrought-iron lamp. As he blocked her way
she hesitated an instant, then threw all her weight against the heavy
metal standard, pushing with both hands; and the iron lamp swayed
forward and fell.
As the young man leaped clear of the falling fixture, Philippa vaulted
the stair rail into the hallway below. He saw instantly what she was
after; both sprang forward to snatch the pistol.
As she stooped for it and seized it, he caught her arm; and she twisted
around on him, beating his head and breast with her free hand while he
strove desperately to master the outstretched arm which still clutched
Halkett's pistol.
To and fro they swayed over the slippery floor of the hallway, until he
forced back her arm to the breaking point. Then the pistol clattered to
the floor.
Instantly she kicked it under a tall secretary, where the register was
kept. Holding her at arm's length with one hand, he managed to drag the
heavy piece of furniture on its casters away from the wall far enough to
uncover the pistol.
As he stooped for the weapon, she tore herself free, kicked it away from
beneath his fingers, which already touched it, and, wrenching a framed
engraving from the wall behind her, hurled it at him with both hands.
He leaped nimbly aside to avoid it, but another picture followed, and
then a mantel clock and two vases went smashing against the secretary
behind which he had taken shelter. And suddenly she seized the
secretary itself, and with one supreme effort tipped it over toward him,
driving him again from cover and from the vicinity of the weapon they
both were fighting to secure.
As the big oak secretary fell, and the glass doors crashed into
splinters, she stooped, snatched Halkett's pistol from the floor, and
crept forward along the base of the staircase. But the young man had
whipped out a revolver of his own, and was now standing astride of
Halkett's body, panting, speechless, but menacing her with gesture and
weapon.
She shrank aside and crouched low under the staircase, resting there,
disheveled, bleeding, half naked, struggling for breath, but watching
his every movement out of brilliant, implacable eyes.
Every time he ventured to bend down over Halkett, or make the slightest
motion toward the fallen man's breast pockets, Philippa stopped his
operations with leveled pistol, forcing him to spring to his feet again.
Suddenly, behind him in the doorway, appeared Magda and Linette, coming
from the meadow across the road, carrying between them a basket of
freshly washed linen. Like a flash he turned on them and drove them
back and out of doors at the point of his weapon, then whirled about,
aimed full at Philippa, slammed and bolted the front door behind him,
and, covering her with his revolver, ran forward to the foot of the
stairs, where his victim still lay unconscious. Catching the senseless
man by the sleeve, he strove desperately to rip the coat from the inert
body, while keeping his revolver pointed at Philippa's hiding place