Cleek of Scotland Yard Part 2

What'll I do? Stop here until morning?"

"Yes. Put up at a garage; and if I don't return by the first boat, get back to town. Meantime, cut off somewhere and ring up the Yard.

Tell 'em where I've gone. Now then, Dollops, come on!"

A moment later the limousine had swung off into the darkness and disappeared, and what might properly have been taken for a couple of English curates on their way to a Continental holiday moved down the long pier between the glimmering and inadequate lamps to the waiting boat. But long before they reached it the figure at the gangplank--the tall, erect figure of a man whom the most casual observer must have recognized as one who had known military training--had changed its alert att.i.tude and was sauntering up and down as if, when they came nearer and the light allowed him to see what they were, he had lost all interest in them and their doings. Narkom gave the man a glance from the tail of his eye as they went up the gangplank and boarded the boat, and brief as that glance was, it was sufficient to a.s.sure him of two things: First, that the man was not only strikingly handsome but bore himself with an air which spoke of culture, birth, position; second, that he was a foreigner, with the fair hair and the slightly hooked nose which was so characteristic of the Mauravanians.

With Dollops at his side, Narkom slunk aft, where the lights were less brilliant and the stern of the boat hung over the dark, still waters, and pausing there, turned and looked back at the waiting man.

A French sailor was moving past in the darkness. He stopped the man and spoke to him.

"Tell me," he said, slipping a shilling into the fellow's hand, "do you happen to know who that gentleman is, standing on the pier there?"

"Yes, m'sieur. He is equerry to his Majesty King Ulric of Mauravania.

He has crossed with us frequently during his Majesty's sojourn in Paris."

"Gawd's truth, sir," whispered Dollops, plucking nervously at the superintendent's sleeve as the sailor, after touching his cap with his forefinger, pa.s.sed on. "Apaches at one end and them Mauravanian johnnies at the other! I tell you they're a-workin' hand in hand for some reason--workin' against _him_!"

Narkom lifted a silencing hand and turned to move away where there would be less likelihood of anything they might say being overheard; for at that moment a voice had sounded and from a most unusual quarter. Unnoticed until now, a fisher's boat, which for some time had been nearing the sh.o.r.e, swept under the packet's stern and grazed along the stone front of the pier.

"Voila, m'sieur," said, in French, the man who sailed it. "Have I not kept my word and brought your excellency across in safety and with speed?"

"Yes," replied the pa.s.senger whom the fisher addressed. He spoke in perfect French, and with the smoothness of a man of the better cla.s.s.

"You have done well indeed. Also it was better than waiting about at Calais for the morning boat. I can now catch the very first train to London. Fast is she? There is your money. Adieu!"

Then came the sound of some one leaving the boat and scrambling up the water stairs, and hard on the heels of it the first whistle of the coming train. Narkom, glancing round, saw a slouching, ill-clad fellow whose appearance was in distinct contrast with his voice and manner of speaking, come into view upon the summit of the pier.

His complexion was sallow, his matted hair seemed to have gone for years uncombed; a Turkish fez, dirty and discoloured, was on his head, and over his arm hung several bits of tapestry and shining stuff which betokened his calling as that of a seller of Oriental draperies.

This much Narkom saw and would have gone on his way, giving the fellow no second thought, but that a curious thing happened. Moving away toward the footpath which led from the pier to the town, the pedler caught sight suddenly of the man standing at the gangplank; he halted abruptly, looked round to make sure that no one was watching, then, without more ado, turned round suddenly on his heel, walked straightway to the gangplank and boarded the boat.

The Mauravanian took not the slightest heed of him, nor he of the Mauravanian. Afterward, when the train had arrived, Narkom thought he knew why. For the present he was merely puzzled to understand why this dirty, greasy Oriental pedler who had been at the pains to cross the Channel in a fisher's boat should do so for the apparent purpose of merely going back on the packet to Calais.

By this time the train had arrived, the pier was alive with people, porters were running back and forth with luggage, and there was bustle and confusion everywhere. Narkom looked along the length of the vessel to the teeming gangway. The Mauravanian was still there, alert as before, his fixed eyes keenly watching.

A crowd came stringing along, bags and bundles done up in gaudy handkerchiefs in their hands, laughing, jostling, jabbering together in low-cla.s.s French.

"Here they are, guv'ner--the Apaches!" said Dollops in a whisper.

"That's the lot, sir. Keep your eye on them as they come aboard, and if they are with him--Crumbs! Not a sign; not a blessed one!"

For the Apaches, stringing up the gangplank by twos and threes and coming within brushing distance of the waiting man, pa.s.sed on as the Oriental pedler had pa.s.sed on, taking no notice of him, nor he of them, nor yet of how, as they advanced, the pedler slouched forward and slipped into the thick of them.

"By James! one of them--that's what the fellow is!" said Narkom, as he observed this. "If during the voyage the Mauravanian speaks to one man of the lot----"

He stopped and sucked in his breath and let the rest of the sentence go by default. For of a sudden there had come into sight upon the pier a dapper little French dandy, fuzzy of moustache, mincing of gait, with a flower in his b.u.t.tonhole and a shining "topper" on his beautifully pomaded head; and it came upon Narkom with a shock of remembrance that he had seen this selfsame living fashion plate pa.s.s by Scotland Yard twice that very day!

Onward he came, this pretty monsieur, with his jaunty air and his lovely "wine-gla.s.s waist," onward, and up the gangway and aboard the packet; and there the Mauravanian still stood, looking out over the crowd and taking no more heed of him than he had taken of anybody else. But with the vanishing of this exquisite, to whom he had paid no heed, his alertness and his interest seemed somehow to evaporate; for he turned now and again to watch the sailors and the longsh.o.r.emen at their several duties, and strolled leisurely aboard and stood lounging against the rail of the lower deck when the call of "All ash.o.r.e that's going!" rang through the vessel's length, and was still lounging there when the packet cast off her mooring, and swinging her bows round in the direction of France, creamed her way out into the Channel and headed for Calais.

A wind, unnoticed in the safe shelter of the harbour, played boisterously across the chopping waves as the vessel forged outward, sending clouds of spray sweeping over the bows and along the decks, and such pa.s.sengers as refrained from seeking the shelter of the saloon and smoke-room sought refuge by crowding aft.

"Come!" whispered Narkom, tapping Dollops' arm. "We can neither talk nor watch here with safety in this crowd. Let us go 'forrard.'

Better a drenching in loneliness than shelter with a crowd like this.

Come along!"

The boy obeyed without a murmur, following the larger and heavier built "curate" along the wet decks to the deserted bows, and finding safe retreat with him there in the dark shadow cast by a tarpaulin-covered lifeboat. From this safe shelter they could, by craning their necks, get a half view of the interior of the smoke-room through its hooked-back door; and their first glance in that direction pinned their interest, for the pretty "Monsieur"

was there, smoking a cigarette and sipping now and again at a gla.s.s of absinthe which stood on a little round table at his elbow.

But of the Mauravanian or the Apaches or of the Oriental pedler, there was neither sight nor sound, nor had there been since the vessel started.

"What do you make of it?" queried Narkom, when at the end of an hour the dim outlines of the French coast blurred the clear silver of the moonlit sky. "Have we come on a wild goose chase, do you think? What do you suppose has become of the Apaches and of the pedler chap?"

"Travellin' second cla.s.s," said Dollops, after stealing out and making a round of the vessel and creeping back into the shadow of the lifeboat unseen. "Pallin' with 'em, he is, sir. Makin' a play of sellin' 'em things for their donahs--for the sake of appearances.

One of 'em, he is; and if either that Frenchy or that Mauravanian johnny is mixed up with them--lay low! Smeller to the ground, sir, and eyes and ears wide open! We'll know wot's wot now!"

For of a sudden the Mauravanian had come into view far down the wet and glistening promenade deck and was whistling a curious, lilting air as he strolled along past the open door of the smoke-room.

Just the mere twitch of "Monsieur's" head told when he heard that tune. He finished his absinthe, flung aside his cigarette, and strolled leisurely out upon the deck. The Mauravanian was at the after end of the promenade--a glance told him that. He set his face resolutely in the direction of the bows and sauntered leisurely along. He moved on quietly, until he came to the very end of the covered promenade where the curving front of the deckhouse looked out upon the spray-washed forward deck, then stopped and planted his back against it and stood silently waiting, not ten feet distant from where Narkom and Dollops crouched.

A minute later the Mauravanian, continuing what was to all appearances a lonely and aimless promenade round the vessel, came abreast of that spot and of him.

And then, the deluge!

"Monsieur" spoke out--guardedly, but in a clear, crisp tone that left no room for doubt upon _one_ point, at least.

"Mon ami, it is done--it is accomplished," that crisp voice said.

"You shall report that to his Majesty's ministers. Voila, it is done!"

"It is not done!" replied the Mauravanian, in a swift, biting, emphatic whisper. "You jump to conclusions too quickly. Here! take this. It is an evening paper. The thing was useless--he was not there!"

"Not there! Grande Dieu!"

"Sh-h! Take it--read it. I will see you when we land. Not here--it is too dangerous. Au revoir!"

Then he pa.s.sed on and round the curve of the deckhouse to the promenade on the other side; and "Monsieur," with the paper hard shut in the grip of a tense hand, moved fleetly back toward the smoke-room.

But not unknown any longer.

"Gawd's truth--a woman!" gulped Dollops in a shaking voice.

"No, not a woman--a devil!" said Narkom through his teeth. "Margot, by James! Margot, herself! And what is he--what is Cleek?--that a king should enter into compact with a woman to kill him? Margot, dash her! Well, I'll have you now, my lady--yes, by James, I will!"

"Guv'ner! Gawd's truth, sir, where are you going?"

"To the operator in charge of the wireless--to send a message to the chief of the Calais police to meet me on arrival!" said Narkom in reply. "Stop where you are. Lay low! Wait for me. We'll land in a dozen minutes' time. I'll have that Jezebel and her confederates and I'll rout out Cleek and get him beyond the clutches of them if I tear up all France to do it."

"Gawd bless you, sir, Gawd bless you and forgive me!" said Dollops with a lump in his throat and a mist in his eyes. "I said often you was a sosidge and a m.u.f.f, sir, but you aren't--you're a man!"

Narkom did not hear. He was gone already--down the deck to the cabin of the wireless operator. In another moment he had pa.s.sed in, shut the door behind him, and the Law at sea was talking to the Law ash.o.r.e through the blue ether and across the moonlit waves.

It was ten minutes later. The message had gone its way and Narkom was back in the lifeboat's shadow again, and close on the bows the lamps of Calais pier shone yellow in the blue-and-silver darkness.

On the deck below people were bustling about and making for the place where the gangplank was to be thrust out presently, and link boat and sh.o.r.e together. On the quay, customs officials were making ready for the coming inspection, porters were scuttling about in their blue smocks and peaked caps, and, back of all, the outlines of Calais Town loomed, shadowy and grim through the crowding gloom.