The White Lie Part 15

But they found the lamp still burning as they had left it, the dirty plates still upon the table, and the atmosphere filled by the nauseous perfumes of petroleum.

Ralph's quick eye caught the letter lying upon the table.

"Halloa! What's this?" he cried, taking it up, glancing at the superscription, and tearing open the envelope.

He read through the brief, farewell message; then, crushing the paper in his hand fiercely, he stood for a few seconds without uttering a word.

"She's gone!" he exclaimed at last; "and a good job, too. I'm freer without her; but, by Heaven! I'll make her pay for deserting me like this! That I will!"

"Madame gone?" cried Carlier, starting in blank surprise.

"Yes."

"Well, and I don't wonder, after what you said to her last night. It was shameful."

"That's my own affair," the other said. "It don't concern you, so we need not discuss it."

"Where has she gone?"

"I don't know, and, moreover, I don't care. You, however, seem to take a particular interest in her."

"I hate to see a woman maltreated," replied Adolphe frankly.

"I tell you it is no concern of yours," replied the other, crushing Jean's letter into his jacket pocket and tossing away his cap, while Adolphe re-bound his cut hand with the handkerchief which was already saturated with blood.

"Sit down and let's have a drink," said Ansell, lighting a candle, for the lamp was now very dim, and producing another bottle of red wine from the cupboard.

The pair seated themselves, and drank merrily to their own success, after which Ralph Ansell produced from his pockets the jewellery and the bundle of bank-notes, which he proceeded to examine.

Beneath the light of the single candle stuck in the tin candlestick the fine stones sparkled--diamonds, emeralds, and rubies--as "The American"

produced them in a ma.s.s from his pocket and laid them upon the table.

"Quite a decent lot," he remarked. "Old Levy will give us twenty thousand francs for them, if we pretend we're not hard up. He went back to Amsterdam on Friday, but I'll wire him later on, and get him over."

"But we're not hard up," laughed "The Eel" with a grin of satisfaction.

"No--not quite," answered his companion, taking off the india-rubber band from the bundle of notes and carefully counting them, one by one.

There were seventy-five blue and pink notes of the Bank of France for one thousand francs each--or three thousand pounds, as well as the loose cash.

Ralph Ansell swallowed another gla.s.s of wine.

"I'm sorry we had such horribly bad luck with that safe," he remarked.

"But we were fortunate in getting away as we did. We were not a moment too soon, either."

"They saw us cross the garden," Adolphe said. "I don't like being fired at."

"By Jove! If I had met anyone he'd have gone down, I a.s.sure you,"

declared Ralph. "I had my revolver ready."

"A good job that we got out as we did. It is always a risky thing to try and get political papers. Remember the affair at the Austrian Amba.s.sador's, when a stranger offered poor Bonnemain twenty thousand francs to get certain doc.u.ments? I kept watch outside the Emba.s.sy that night, and we were nearly caught--all of us."

"Well--this is enough to keep the flag flying for a bit," said Ansell, as he proceeded to divide the bank-notes, placing fifty in his own pocket and giving Adolphe twenty-five.

The men had some sharp words, as thieves always have when it comes to a division of the spoils, but Ansell claimed a double share because he had been the instigator of the affair.

Adolphe Carlier protested vehemently, gesticulating wildly; but at last, finding argument of no avail, he shrugged his shoulders and accepted the inevitable. He had had previous experience of Ralph's overbearing American manners.

"Then you agree--eh?" asked Ansell, at last.

"I suppose I must," was the response, as "The Eel" thrust a thousand pounds into the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Must! Why, it is only fair!" declared Ansell. "Without my guidance you would never have brought off such a _coup_. Now this stuff," he added, indicating the jewellery. "I'll keep it till I get the money from old Levy--eh?"

"Very well," replied his companion. "But half shares of that, you know."

"Of course. That's agreed," responded the other, and both lifted the tumblers of wine in celebration of their success and safety.

"Phew! How warm I feel," exclaimed "The Eel."

"Take off your coat, old fellow, and wait here till the morning, Then we'll go out and wire to that old scoundrel, Levy," urged Ansell. "We can both do with an hour's rest after to-night's work."

"Right. But I'll bathe my hand first. It is very painful."

"Yes. Go into my room," said the other, indicating the door.

Therefore Adolphe threw off his coat, hung it upon a nail, and, unwrapping his injured hand, entered the adjoining room, closing the door after him.

"You'll find water in there," shouted his host, whose face, at the moment, relaxed into a hard, sinister smile.

He placed his hand in his jacket pocket, and it came into contact with Jean's letter.

The recollection of it maddened him. He remembered that the man in the room beyond had stood her champion, and had taken her part.

"Curse you!" he muttered, beneath his breath. "What business is it of yours--you soft-hearted fool?"

But scarce had the words fallen from his lips when the door opened suddenly, and the old woman from below, who acted as _concierge_, terrified and panting, entered, and with a loud whisper, cried:

"Ah, M'sieur Ansell. Quick! quick! The police are here! The commissary is asking for you. Quick! Get away, or you'll be caught like a rat in a trap. You know the way. Leave the rest to me!"

And without another word she disappeared, closing the door after her, while the wanted man stood staggered, pale, and dumb.

CHAPTER XI.

THE VOW.