Men of Affairs Part 66

"I can't think you command it," said Hipps.

"Can't you? Then listen. If you stop them--call off the men that are after him, you shall be told the map reference of the place where he found the radium."

There was a startled murmur from the company.

"He may have failed to get the concession. If that were so you'd have an equal chance. Will you call them off if I give you that?"

"But you can't, my dear," said Torrington gently.

"And even if you could, you mustn't," snapped Ca.s.sis.

"Mustn't!" There was something magnificent in her scorn. "Why I'd wreck the whole crowd of you for one sight of him. Here you----" and she swung round on Ezra Hipps. "Write this down."

"Bluff," said he.

"D'you think I'd let the man I love carry a secret I didn't share?

Write this down."

It was Van Diest who stepped forward with "I take her word. Go on."

"Brewster's Series 19," cried Isabel. "Map 24."

Instantly a condition of chaos ruled. Ca.s.sis cried to her to stop "for Heaven's sake." Someone else exclaimed "That European." "It covers the northern area of----" and "Go on. Go on." Hipps was shouting. To concentrate in the midst of such a din was almost impossible. She covered her cars, closed her eyes, to force memory of the words and the numerals that were to follow. "Square F. North 27. West 33."

"She's there," cried Hipps, and whipped out a pistol to cover Ca.s.sis who was making for the telephone.

"No you don't. Stand away." He picked up the instrument and gave a number. "That Phillips? Clear all roads."

It was all that Isabel wanted to hear, just those three words which meant one man's safety at the possible price of a mighty fortune. It meant nothing to her that the American was calling for "My man with a suitcase at Charing Cross straight away. I hit this trail myself."

She was not even conscious of a medley of voices in the street below--a series of cries and shouts--the blast of a police whistle. All this was without meaning. Consciousness was slipping away and had almost deserted her when the door was flung open and Anthony Barraclough burst into the room. He stood an instant, chest out and with eyes feverishly bright.

"Sorry I'm late, gentlemen, but I've done the trick--this packet----"

he rocked a little. "By Gad, I believe I'm going to faint." He tottered forward into Isabel's arms and said--"It's you--how ripping!"

That was all.

Ca.s.sis pushed forward with the words:

"Has he got it--has he got it?"

"This is what you want, I suppose," said Isabel, and taking the letter case from his pocket, threw it on the table. "He's fainted. Help me get him to his bed."

Doran and she half carried and half dragged him from the room.

No one was aware of Auriole, who had entered just behind and stood now with her back to the wall, biting her lip. After all, when a game is won, p.a.w.ns are relatively of little importance--except to themselves.

"Signed? Registered?" said Van Diest, edging forward.

Nugent Ca.s.sis held the crackling doc.u.ment before his eyes--a Concession to Millions--and he answered between his teeth:

"Signed and registered."

"So," said Van Diest, with unexpected control, "we lose--Finish." But his hands trembled as he turned away.

Ezra P. Hipps did not desert his post at the telephone until he heard those words. Then he snapped viciously,

"Say, cancel those orders, Phillips--Wash out the lot."

It was too ridiculous at such a moment to contemplate the price of victory, but that is precisely what Auriole did.

"And you've never asked--never given a thought to the real man--the man who made it possible--who stayed out there on the road while----" She bit back her tears and turned savagely on Hipps and Van Diest. "Oh, G.o.d," she cried, "if anything has happened to him."

But nothing had--if you discount a little discomfort bravely borne. He walked into the room even as she spoke. Dirty he was, dishevelled and hollow-eyed, a very travesty of his former self. But there was a spring in his bearing that fires of adversity had failed to rob of its temper. He entered with a swing, a certain jauntiness--a dash of _nonchaloir_--pushing his way through the group of astonished financiers in the doorway and marching up to Van Diest and the American with a very fine air of "you be d.a.m.ned" about the carriage of his head.

"Get out," he said, uncompromisingly. "And tomorrow morning I'm coming down to Charing Cross to see you off by the Continental."

They both addressed him simultaneously and in very different tones to the ones he had grown accustomed to during the past three weeks. The word "cheque" figured largely in their proposals. Richard Frencham Altar cut them short with:

"Cheque from you? No, thanks. I'll take the smallest coin in each of your countries to wear on my watch chain. It'll remind me of my dealings with two millionaires. That train goes at ten tomorrow morning."

Ezra P. Hipps happened to see the light in Auriole's eyes as he and Van Diest moved toward the door. It was quite unmistakable and from his point of view, conclusive. He said nothing, however, and they pa.s.sed out in silence.

It is probable that Hilbert Torrington also read a meaning in the girl's eyes for he was very active in marshalling his forces for departure.

"I think, gentlemen," he said, "we might meet tomorrow to discuss our obligation to Mr. Frencham Altar--an obligation by no means covered by the small arrangement we made with him." He grasped Richard warmly by the hand and there was moisture at the corners of his eyes. "What a splendid boy you are," he said. "Lord, but youth and adventure is a wonderful partnership, with a dash of romance thrown in as a prize.

It's been a great game--hasn't it? A real tough fight. Great fun.

Good night."

Even Ca.s.sis had something nice to say before they took their leave and left the man and the girl together.

Then Richard looked at Auriole and grinned, perhaps because her expression was so desperately serious.

"Couldn't you smile at a chap?" he asked.

She wrapped her cloak around her.

"You don't understand," she said. "Everything seems good to you at the moment--even me."

He shook his head whimsically.

"Don't say me that piece," he begged. "It sounds horrid. Where are you going?"

"I don't belong here," she answered.

"For that matter, neither do I, but I dare say I could extend my lease for another half hour--even though it did expire at eleven o'clock."

She came down and faced him.

"Listen," she said. "I don't want to be a nuisance to you and I won't be."