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The Lost Ambassador written by E. Phillips Oppenheim

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"You play games and shoot, of course," she asked, "like all your
countrymen?"

"I am afraid I do," I admitted. "I have wasted a good deal of time the
last few years. I have made up my mind definitely now, though, that I
will get something to do. Ralph--that's my brother--wants me to stand
for Parliament for the division of Norfolk, where we live, and has
offered to pay all my expenses, but I am afraid I do not fancy myself
as a politician."

"I would come and hear you speak," she murmured.

"Thank you," I answered, "but I have other accomplishments at which I
shine more. I would rather--"

I broke off in the middle of my sentence, attracted by a sudden little
exclamation from my companion. There was the sound of a heavy fall
close at hand. I sprang to my feet.

"By Jove, it's Bartot!" I exclaimed.

The man was leaning half across the table, his arms stretched out in
an unnatural fashion,--the wine which he had overturned streaming on
to the floor. His face was flushed and blotchy. His eyes were
closed. He was groaning quite audibly, and gasping.

"_Empoisonne!"_ he muttered. "_Empoisonne!"_

"Poisoned?" I repeated. "What does the fellow mean?"

I stopped short. A sudden realization of what he did mean assailed me!
He was desperately ill, there was no doubt about that. The word which
he had uttered seemed likely to be his last for some time to come.
They formed a sort of stretcher and carried him from the room. Felicia
was sitting back in her chair, white to the lips. I was feeling a
little queer myself. I called Louis, who had been superintending the
man's removal.

"Louis," I whispered in his ear, "there were two dinners which you
prepared yourself to-night!"

Louis smiled very quietly.

"You need have no anxiety, monsieur," he assured me,--"no anxiety at
all!"




CHAPTER XVIII

CONTRASTS


We sat out in the foyer and took our coffee. I did not suggest a visit
to any place of entertainment, as I knew it was better for Felicia to
retire early, in order that I might pass through the sitting-room to
her uncle's room, unheard. The orchestra was playing delightful music;
the rooms were thronged with a gay and fashionable crowd.
Nevertheless, my companion's spirits, which had been high enough
during dinner, now seemed to fail her. More than once during the
momentary silence I saw the absent look come into her eyes,--saw her
shiver as though she were recalling the little tragedy of a few
minutes ago. I had hitherto avoided mentioning it, but I tried now to
make light of the matter.

"I spoke to Louis coming out," I remarked. "The man Bartot has only
had a slight stroke. With a neck like that, I wonder he has not had it
before."

She found no consolation in my words. She only shook her head sadly.

"You do not understand," she said. "It is part of the game. So it goes
on, Capitaine Rotherby," she said, looking at me with her sad
eyes. "So it will go on to the end."

"Come," I said, "you must not get morbid."

"Morbid," she repeated. "It is not that. It is because I know."

"Do you believe, then," I asked, "that Bartot was poisoned?"

She looked at me as though in surprise. Her eyes were like the eyes of
a child.

"I know it!" she answered simply. "There is not any question about it
at all."

I listened to the music for several moments in silence. Once or twice
I stole a glance at her. Notwithstanding a certain perfection of
outline, and a toilette which removed her wholly from any suggestion
of immaturity, there was yet something childish in the pale, drawn
face,--in the eyes with their look of fear. My heart was full of
sympathy for her. Such adventures as this one into which I seemed to
have stumbled were well enough for men. She, at any rate, was wholly
out of place in her present position! I had wild dreams at that
moment. The wine and the music, and the absolute trustfulness with
which she seemed, for the moment, to have committed herself to my
keeping, fired my blood. I had thoughts of taking her hand in mine, of
bidding her leave the hotel that night, that minute, with me,--of
taking her away into the country, into some quiet place where we could
be married, and where none of these things which terrified her could
throw their shadows across her life! Yet barely had the thought come
to me before I realized how impossible it all was. I, too, was an
adventurer! If I were not actually in the power of these men, it was
to them that I owed my liberty! My own spirits began to fall. It was a
queer maze this into which I had been drawn.

The music changed its note. Even as we sat there its languorous,
passionate rhythm passed away, to be succeeded by the quicker, cleaner
notes of some old martial music. It came to me like a cold douche. I
remembered that I had been--was still--a soldier. I remembered that my
word was pledged to certain undertakings, and that after all I was
fighting on her side. The momentary depression passed away. I found
myself able to talk more lightly, until something of the old gayety
came back to her also.

"Tell me," she said, as at last we rose to vacate our places,--"you
spoke the other day of going down into the country."

"I am not leaving London just yet," I said decidedly.

If I had indeed made some great sacrifice, I should have been rewarded
by the brilliant look which she flashed up at me. Her eyes for a
moment were absolutely the color of violets. I heard people whisper as
we passed by. We said very little more to one another. I left her at
the lift, and she gave me both her hands with a little impulsive
gesture which I had already learned to look for. Then one of those
inexplicable moods seemed to take possession of her. As the lift shot
away from me I saw that her eyes were full of tears.

I made my way back to the cafe. It was now almost deserted. All but
one or two very late diners had gone, and the tables were being
prepared for supper. Louis, however, was still there, sitting at the
desk by the side of the cashier, and apparently making calculations.
He came forward when he saw me enter, and we met by chance just as one
of the under-managers of the hotel passed by.

"What can I do for you this evening, Captain Rotherby?" he asked,
with his usual bow. "A table for supper, perhaps?"

"I want some coffee," I asked. "I want you to see that it is strong,
and well made."

Louis turned and gave an order to a waiter. I sat down, and he stood
by my side.

"Mademoiselle has gone to her room?" he asked.

"Five minutes ago," I answered.

"In an hour," he said, "it will be safe for monsieur to go to Mr.
Delora's room. You need not pass through the sitting-room at all.
There is a door into the bedroom connecting with the corridor. If
mademoiselle hears anything, she will think that it is the doctor."

"I shall be quite ready," I answered. "There are only one or two
things I want to ask you. One is this, what explanation is to be given
of my occupying that room, if there is a row?"

"There will not be a row," Louis answered coolly. "If monsieur is
hurt, I shall see to it that he is conveyed to his own apartment. If
any one who attacks him, or tries to search the apartment, should be
hurt by monsieur, I shall see, too, that they are removed quietly.
These things are easy enough. The service through the night is almost
abandoned. Monsieur may not know it, but on the floor on which he
sleeps there is not a single servant."

"Supposing I ring my bell?" I asked.

"If it were answered at all," Louis said, "it would be by the lift
man."

"On the whole," I remarked, "it seems to me that the residential side
of the hotel is admirably suited to the nocturnal adjustment of small
differences!"

Louis smiled.

"There has never been any trouble, sir," he said. "You see," he
added, pointing to the clock, "it is now ten o'clock. In one hour
monsieur should be there. I have ordered whiskey and soda to be put in
the room."

"Shall I see anything of you, Louis?" I asked.

"It is not possible, monsieur," he answered. "I must be here until
half-past twelve or one o'clock to attend to my supper guests."

I leaned back in my chair and laughed silently. It seemed to me a
strange thing to speak so calmly of the service of the restaurant,
while upstairs I was to lie quiet, my senses strained all the time,
and the chances of life and death dependent, perhaps, on the quickness
of my right arm, or some chance inspiration. I saw the usual throng
come strolling in--I myself had often been one of them--actresses who
had not time to make a toilette for the restaurant proper, actors,
managers, agents, performers from all the hundreds of pleasure houses
which London boasts, Americans who had not troubled to dress,
Frenchwomen who objected to the order prohibiting their appearance in
hats elsewhere,--a heterogeneous, light-hearted crowd, not afraid to
laugh, to make jokes, certain to outstay their time, supping frugally
or _au prince_, according to the caprice of the moment. And
upstairs I saw myself waiting in a darkened room for what? I felt a
thrill of something which I had felt just before the final assault
upon Ladysmith, when we had drunk our last whiskey and soda, thrown
away our cigarettes, and it had been possible to wonder, for a moment,
whether ever again our lips would hold another. Only this was a very
different matter. I might be ending my days, for all I knew, on behalf
of a gang of swindlers!

"Louis," I said, "it would make me much more comfortable if you could
be a little more candid. You might tell me in plain words what these
men want from Delora. How am I to know that he is not the thief, and
these others are seeking only their own?"

Louis was silent for a moment. He glanced carelessly around the room
to assure himself that there were no listeners.

"I can tell you no more, sir," he said, "for if I told you more, I
should tell you lies. I will only remind you that you owe us a debt
which I am asking you to pay, and that it is the uncle of mademoiselle
whose place you are taking."

"I am not in the least convinced," I said, "that I am aiding the uncle
of mademoiselle in allowing myself to be attacked in his place."

"As for that," Louis answered, "you shall be assured to-morrow, and,
if you will, there is another adventure still to be undertaken. You
shall go to see Mr. Delora, and be thanked with his own lips."

"There is some sense in that, Louis," I allowed, lighting another
cigarette, "but I warn you I shall make him tell me the truth."

Louis smiled inscrutably.

"Why not, monsieur?" he said.

"Tell me this, at any rate, Louis," I asked. "What is it that you hope
for from this evening? You believe that some one will break in with
the idea of robbing or else murdering Mr. Delora. They will find me
there instead. What is it you hope,--that they will kill me, or that
I shall kill them, or what?"

"That is a very reasonable question," Louis admitted. "I will answer
it. In the first place, I would have them know that they have not all
the wits on their side, and if they plot, we, too, can counterplot. In
the second place, I wish you to see the man or the men face to face
who make this attempt, and be prepared, if necessary, to recognize
them hereafter. And in the third place, there is one man to whom, if
he should himself make the attempt, I should be very glad indeed if
harm came of it."

"Thank you, Louis," I said, "I am not proposing to do murder if I can
help it."

"One must defend one's self," Louis said.

"Naturally," I answered, "up to a certain point. You have nothing more
to tell me, then?"

"Nothing, sir," Louis answered calmly. "I wish you once more _bonne
fortune_!"

I nodded, and left the cafe. Of the hall-porter I made an inquiry as
to the man who had had a fit in the cafe earlier in the evening.

"The doctor has been to see him twice, sir," the man told me. "It was
a sort of apoplectic stroke, brought on by something which he had
eaten."

"Will he recover?" I asked.

"The doctor says it is serious," the man answered, "but that with
careful nursing he will pull round. We have just sent a telegram to a
lady in Paris to come over."

I smiled as I rang the bell for the lift. So I might see my lady of
the turquoises again.




CHAPTER XIX

WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS


Arrived in my room, I changed my dress-coat for a smoking-jacket, and
my patent shoes for loose slippers. Then I suddenly discovered that I
had no cigarettes. I glanced at the clock. It was only half-past
ten. I had still half an hour to spare.

I locked up my room and descended by the lift to the entrance hall. My
friend the hall-porter was standing behind his counter, doing nothing.

"I wish you would send a boy into the cafe," I said, "and ask Louis to
send me a box of my cigarettes."

"With pleasure, sir," the man answered. "By the bye," he added, "Louis
is not there himself, but I suppose any of the others would know the
sort you smoke, sir?"

"Not there?" I answered, glancing at the clock. "Ah! I suppose it is
a little early for him."

"He will not be there at all this evening," the porter answered. "The
second _maitre d'hotel_ was here a few minutes ago, and told me
so himself."

"Not there at all!" I repeated. "Do you mean to say that Louis has a
night off?"

"Certainly, sir," the man answered. "He has just gone out in his
morning clothes."

For a moment I was so surprised that I said nothing. Only a few
minutes ago Louis had gone out of his way to tell me that he would be
on duty that night in the cafe. All the time it was obviously a lie!
He would not have deceived me without a reason. What was it? I walked
to the door and back again. The hall-porter watched me a little
curiously.

"Did you wish for Monsieur Louis particularly," he said, "or shall I
send to Antoine for the cigarettes?"

I pulled myself together.

"Send to Antoine, by all means," I answered. "He knows what I want."

I took up an evening paper and glanced at the news. Somehow or other
I was conscious, although I had had no exercise, of feeling unusually
sleepy. When the boy returned with the cigarettes I thrust the box
into my pocket, unopened. Then I went to the smoking-room on my way
upstairs and drank a stiff brandy and soda. Of one of the junior
waiters whom I met I asked a question.

"Do you know if Monsieur Louis will be here to-night?" I asked.

"No, sir!" he answered. "He has just left."

"Very well," I answered. "You need not mention my inquiry."

I gave the boy half-a-crown, and ascended once more to my room. I was
feeling a little more awake, but, incomprehensible though it might
seem, I began to have a curious idea concerning the coffee with which
Louis had served me. I even remembered--or thought that I
remembered--some curious taste about it. Yet what object could Louis
have in drugging me just as I was on the point of entering into an
enterprise on his behalf?

I had a spirit-lamp in my room, and I made myself rapidly a cup of
strong tea. Even after I had drunk it, I still felt the remains of the
drowsy feeling hanging around me. It was now ten minutes to eleven,
and I opened my wardrobe to find the only weapon with which I proposed
to arm myself,--a heavily loaded Malacca cane, which had more than
once done me good service. To my surprise it was not in its accustomed
corner. I was perfectly certain that I had seen it since my return
from Paris, and I proceeded to make a thoroughly methodical search. I
left scarcely an inch of space in my rooms undisturbed. At last I was
forced to come to the conclusion that the stick had gone. Either the
valet or some one else must have borrowed it.

It was eleven o'clock by the time I had concluded my search, and there
was no time for me to make any further inquiries. I locked up my rooms
and descended to the fifth floor. The corridor was empty, and with the
key which Louis had given me I opened the door of Mr. Delora's bedroom
without difficulty. The room was in darkness, but the electric-light
knob was against the wall. I turned it on quickly. There was neither
any one in the room, nor any evidence of it having been recently
occupied t satisfied with my first inspection, I looked into the
wardrobe and lifted the curtains of the bed. Very soon I was assured
that there was no one in hiding. I sat down on the edge of the bed and
began to consider how to pass the time for the next hour or so. The
whiskey and soda set out upon the table attracted my attention. I went
over to it, struck by a sudden thought! First I poured out a little
of the whiskey. It smelt harmless enough. I tried it upon my tongue.
There was no distinctive flavor. Then I looked at the soda-water
syphon. The top was screwed up tightly enough, and it easily came
undone with the application of a little force. I examined the screw. I
felt certain at once, for some reason or other, that it had been
tampered with recently. I poured a little of the soda-water into a
glass. It was quite flat, and when I tasted it it had a peculiar
flavor. Something seemed to have been added to it which destroyed
altogether its buoyancy. I screwed on the top again and whistled
softly to myself. The whiskey and soda had been placed there by
Louis. He had even gone so far as to call my particular attention to
it. The coffee which I had drunk a little before had also been
prepared by Louis. He was evidently taking no chances! It was his
intention that I should be asleep when the intruder, whoever he might
be, should enter the room. After all, it seemed that I was in for
something a little more complicated in the way of adventures than I
had imagined. I examined the lock of the door by which I had
entered. It worked easily, and there was also a bolt on the inside.
The door was by its side which led into the sitting-room. I also
examined it, and I saw with satisfaction that there was at the top a
narrow glass transept, which I carefully opened. The sitting-room was
in darkness, so Felicia had evidently retired for the night. I sat
down to wait!

The time dragged on slowly enough, as it might well have done under
the circumstances. I was waiting for something,--I had not the least
idea what, or in what form it would arrive. I heard the quarters chime
one after the other until one o'clock. Then at last I heard the sound
of a key in the outer door of the suite. I had already poured half the
syphon of soda and a fair quantity of the whiskey out of the window. I
now threw myself upon the bed, closed my eyes, and did my best to
simulate a heavy sleep. The person who entered the apartments came up
the little outer passage until he reached the door leading into my
room. I heard that softly opened. Then there was a pause, broken only
by my heavy breathing. Some one was in the room, and it was some one
who had learned the art of absolute noiselessness. I heard no
footsteps,--not even a man's breathing. Suddenly there was the click
of the electric light, and although I still heard nothing, I felt that
some one had approached a little way towards the bed. I dared not open
my eyes, but in a restless movement, which I felt I might safely make,
I raised my hand to shield me, and caught a momentary glimpse of the
person who was standing between me and the door. As I expected, it
was Louis! He held the soda-water syphon in his hand, as though
measuring its contents. I believe that he afterwards came and stood
over me. I dared not open my eyes again, for I was none too good an
actor, and I feared that he might not be deceived. The quantity of
whiskey and soda, however, which I had apparently drunk, must have
satisfied him, for he only stayed altogether about a minute in the
room. Then he passed out into the sitting-room, closing the door
behind him, and without noticing the open transept. I lay quite still,
expecting that before long he would return. There were no signs of his
coming, however, though through the transept I could see that the
light in the sitting-room had been turned on. I rose softly from the
bed and bolted both doors. If Louis were to make up his mind to
return, it was better, after all, for him to discover that I had been
deceiving him than to have him come upon me unawares!

From the top of a chair I was easily able to see through the transept
into the sitting-room. At my first glance I thought that it was
empty. Then, however, I saw Louis come in from the outer hall, as
though from the door of Felicia's room. He came into the centre of the
sitting-room and stood there waiting. He was in dark morning clothes,
and there was no sign of that charming expression which his patrons
found so attractive. His brows were contracted. His mouth seemed
screwed together. His peculiar-colored eyes shone like gimlets. He
seemed to be waiting impatiently--waiting for what? Once he moved a
little, and glanced expectantly toward the open door of the
sitting-room. For the first time a horrible fear gripped me. I could
scarcely stand in my place. With both hands I held the cornice. My
heart began to thump against my ribs. If it should be true! Then all
of a sudden a little cry came to my lips, which Heaven knows how I
stifled! My eyes were suddenly hot. There was a mist before them. I
could see nothing, nothing save Felicia, who had entered the room in a
dressing-jacket, with her hair still down her back. It was nothing to
me, at that moment, that her eyes were round with fear, that she came
as one comes who obeys the call of her master. I was so furious with
anger that I had hard work to battle with the impulse which prompted
me to throw open the door and confront them both.

"Louis, is this wise?" she murmured.

"There are times," he answered softly, "when one has to dare
everything! Listen, Felicia."

"Yes?" she murmured.

"In a short time you will hear a soft knocking on the outside
door. Take no notice. I shall open it. It will be some one to see your
uncle. We shall talk in this sitting-room. I hope that nothing will
happen, but if you hear the sound of blows or voices take no notice.
Remain in your room till everything is quiet. Presently, if all is
well, I shall knock three times on your door. I may need your help."

"Very well," she answered. "And if you do not knock?"

He handed her a slip of paper.

"You have a telephone in your room," he said. "Ring up the number you
will find there, and simply repeat the words which I have written."

"Is that all?" she asked.

"That is all."

"Louis," she said,--then she pointed in my direction,--"may I not go
in just for one minute?"

"No!" he answered. "It is not wise."

"It seems unkind," she said, "to keep away from him all this time if
he is ill."

"I did not know that you had so much affection for him!" Louis
remarked.

"Why not?" she answered. "He was always kind to me, in his way."

There was a moment's pause. Then she spoke again, and her voice had in
it a note of sharp inquiry.

"Louis, whose stick is that?" she demanded.

I raised myself a little higher. Upon the table, close to where Louis
was standing, was a thick Malacca cane which I recognized at once.

"Mine!" Louis answered shortly.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Whose did you suppose that it was?" he demanded.

"Capitaine Rotherby was carrying one just like it," she declared. "I
noticed it in the railway carriage."

"They are common enough," Louis answered. "This one, at any rate, is
mine. Hush!"

They both, for a moment, seemed to be listening intently. Then Louis
pointed to the door.

"Go back to your room," he said, in a low whisper. "Go back at once,
and turn your key."

She stole away. When she was no longer in the room I could see more
clearly,--I could take account of other things! Distinctly I could
hear now the soft knocking upon the outer door!




CHAPTER XX

A TERRIBLE NIGHT


Louis disappeared from the room for the moment. I heard the outer door
softly opened and closed. Then he came back into the sitting-room,
followed by the man who had stood by our side at Charing Cross
Station. The latter looked around the room quickly, and seemed
disappointed to find it empty.

"I understood that Mr. Delora was here," he said.

"Mr. Delora is in his bedroom," Louis answered. "He is here, and
perfectly willing to see you. But it is against the doctor's orders,
and my instructions were that I was to warn you not to excite him. You
must speak slowly, and you may have to repeat anything which you wish
him to understand."

"Who are you?" the newcomer asked.

"I am Mr. Delora's servant," Louis answered.

The newcomer looked a little puzzled.

"Surely I have seen you before somewhere!" he exclaimed.

"It is very possible," Louis answered. "I am also a waiter in the cafe
below, but I come from South America, and Mr. Delora, when he is over,
is always kind to me. I spend most of my time, now that he is ill, up
here looking after him."

The newcomer shook his head thoughtfully.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Louis," was the quiet answer.

"Then, my friend Louis," the newcomer said, "understand me plainly. I
am not here to be bamboozled, or to give you an opportunity for
exercising any ability you may possess in the art of lying. I am here
to see Delora, and if he is here, see him I will and must! If he is
not here, well, it will come later. There is no roof nor any walls in
London which will enclose that man and keep him from me!"