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Chapter Twenty Six
In which a Desperate Game is Played

“To serve you, Miss Gwen, and to return a favour to my friend the Doctor, I’ll keep you informed of what transpires on our side,” he promised at last. “I’d like to call and see your father. When’s the best time?”

“He will be pleased to see you at any time you may appoint! Why not ring me up on the telephone – if you are not able to make an appointment now?”

“Very well,” he replied, “I will.”

He saw that she wanted to ask him something, but was hesitating, as though not daring to put her question.

At last she asked:

“Mr Mullet, will you not reveal to me in confidence who it is who is thus working against us?”

“A person of highest reputation as far as financial reputation in London goes, and of enormous influence. He has at his service every power that wealth can command.”

“And is he nameless?”

“Alas! he must be,” was “Red Mullet’s” decisive answer. The truth was that he feared to tell the girl, lest her surprise might lead her to expose the secret, which must at once reflect upon herself. He was glad that she had not recognised Challas from the many photographs which so constantly appeared in the illustrated papers.

A door somewhere in the small flat clicked again, but neither took any notice of it, attributing it to the wind from the open window.

They had no suspicion of an eavesdropper who had silently entered after them with the latch-key he possessed, and had just as silently left again, and crept down the stairs.

“Miss Gwen,” exclaimed her friend a few moments later, “I would really urge you to have a care of yourself. Your enemies evidently mean mischief. You have, by a blackguardly ruse, been parted from the man you love – hence you are defenceless.”

“Except for you – my true friend.”

“I may have to leave London suddenly, while at any moment, you may, if you are not careful, fall again into the net they will, no doubt, spread and cleverly conceal. They fear your father and his friends, and from him will demand a price for you – a price for your honour, most likely.”

“What do you mean?” she cried, starting, and staring at him.

“I am compelled to speak frankly, Miss Gwen; please forgive me,” he said. “I know these men, remember. I know they will hesitate at nothing in order to gain their dastardly ends. They will compel your father to pay the price – and it will be the relinquishing of the struggle, and the leaving of it to them.”

“We will never relinquish it!” declared the girl. “But do have a care of yourself,” urged the man with the bristly moustache in deep earnestness. “If you again fall into the hands of these two men, you will not, I fear, escape without disaster.”

“I know that, alas! only too well. I owe everything to your kindness and the pity you had for me. How can I ever sufficiently repay you?”

“You are now repairing me – repaying me with all you love most dearly. Your silence has cost you your lover.”

She sighed, and hot tears rose to her splendid eyes. He was quick to notice her sudden change, and deftly turned the conversation into a different channel.

Then, when he had smoked another cigarette, chatting the while, he reminded her to tell her father of Erich Haupt, and to say that he, “Red Mullet”, would call on the following day.

At last they descended together into the street, and at the corner of Oxford Street entered into a taxi-cab in which they drove back to Notting Hill Gate station.

There he raised his hat as she descended and hurried across into Pembridge Gardens, while he gave the man directions to return to his own chambers.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, aloud, as they went along the Bayswater Road with the horn “honking.”

“The whole situation is now a terribly complicated one. To throw in my lot with the Professor and his daughter would mean a ‘stretch’ for me, without a doubt. Challas is vindictive, because I allowed her to escape from his infernal clutches. He meant to serve her the same as he did that poor young German girl! Hang me! I may be an outsider, but I’m not going to stand by and see another woman fall a victim. Now what is the best game to play in the interests of Griffin and Diamond? Stand by, watch old Erich, and if he gets hold of anything tangible, give it to them at once. That’s the only way that I can see. Yet – yet I may already be suspected of playing a double game – and if I am, it means that I’ll be given away to the police at the first opportunity. No,” he added with great bitterness, “in this game Felix Challas and Jim Jannaway hold all the cards. Money talks here, and it does always,” he sighed.

And he sat back in his cab in a deep reverie. Already he was tired of London, though he had not set foot in it for three years. He was too near Challas. When absent on the Continent, he simply obeyed orders, and led the easy-going life of the cosmopolitan concession-hunter, always well-dressed, always apparently flush of money, always merry and prosperous-looking, and always outwardly, at least, presenting the appearance of a gentleman.

Here, in London, however, he was simply the cat’s-paw of an unscrupulous parvenu who cloaked his evil doings beneath the remarkable sanctity and generous philanthropy.

“It’s a blackguardly shame that poor little Gwen, a smart little girl and yet sweet and innocent as a child, should be parted from her lover like this!” he went on, still murmuring to himself. “No doubt this man Farquhar, whoever he is, doubts her. I’d do the same if the girl to whom I was engaged ran away from home, stayed away a few days, and then on her return refused to give any account of herself. Frank Farquhar isn’t a fool, and I admire him for that. I’m to blame for the whole thing,” he added with a bitter imprecation, “because I’m a coward and fear nowadays to face the music. Yes,” he went on, “Red Mullet is in fear of his enemies! It’s no good denying it. Hitherto he’s always defied them, even at the muzzle of a gun! But recently they’ve become just one too many for him!”

He paused and lit a cigarette. Then with a sudden gesture of despair he asked himself aloud: “How can I assist the little girl to get back her lover? Frank Farquhar is a good fellow, I’ve discovered. And he’s devoted to her. How can I compel him to believe in her?”

When he entered his chambers, he flung himself again into the armchair in which Gwen had sat.

“It would be a cursed shame if ever the sacred relics of Israel fell into the hands of such a blackguardly hypocrite as Challas. What does he care for their antiquity, or their religious significance? Nothing. The gold he’d melt down and sell at its market value per ounce, while the sacred objects of the Holy of Holies he would wantonly destroy, in face of the Jews and in order to laugh them to scorn. He shan’t do that! By Heaven! he shan’t. If the treasure is still there it shall be recovered by the Doctor and Griffin. I’ll help them, and I’ll still remain little Gwen’s protector, even if it costs me my liberty to do so. Besides – ”

His fierce words of determination were interrupted by a ring at the front door bell, and he went along the small hall to open it.

Jim Jannaway, in a light overcoat and crush hat, stood upon the mat.

“By Jove, Charlie!” he cried, “I’m jolly glad you’re at home, old chap!”

“Why?” asked Mullet admitting him, and closing the door.

“Well, my dear fellow,” he said in a breathless voice. “Something ugly has happened. You’ve been given away. Somebody has recognised that you’re back in London!”

“Who?” gasped the red-haired man.

“Ah! that we don’t know yet. The ‘boss’ has just sent me round to tell you to clear out at once – this instant!”

“H’m,” remarked “Red Mullet.” “Now that’s deuced funny! Why didn’t he keep his fears to himself, and let me take the consequences – eh?”

“Why, of course he wouldn’t do that. He never lets us down – you surely know him too well for that,” remarked the other.

“And he gives me the tip to clear out!” said Charlie Mullet. “It’s really very kind and considerate of him.”

“Well, my dear fellow. You don’t seem to appreciate his kindness very much.”

“I never appreciate the solicitude of my enemies, my dear Jim,” he replied with perfect nonchalance. “It’s my failing, I suppose.”

Jannaway disregarded the sarcasm, and said:

“I was with him only half an hour ago round in Berkeley Square, and he told me to come along at once to you, and urge you to get away. He gave me these for you,” and from his pocket he produced three thousand-franc notes.

“My dear Jim, both you and Felix seem to take me for a silly mug,” laughed Red Mullet defiantly, “but you must please remember that I’ve been mug-hunting too long to be bluffed like this. The exemplary Baronet is desirous that I should leave London, and sends you, his emissary, to give me timely warning. Well, my dear boy. I want no warning,” he said, for he was now on his mettle. “I shall simply remain here. If they send anybody from Scotland Yard – well, here’s a drink for them,” and he indicated the tantalus and glasses upon a side table.

“But surely you don’t wish to remain here, and give the whole game away!” cried Jannaway, anxiously, standing in the centre of the room, his hat pushed slightly to the back of his head.

“What does it matter to me? I never move without just cause. I’m growing rather sceptical in my old age. What proof have I of this extraordinary contretemps?”

“What proof do you want? I’m here to warn you. Are you a fool, Charlie?”

“Yes. Until I know why this warning has been given me. How does Felix know?”

“He has a pal down at Scotland Yard – a sergeant whom he helped ‘over the stile’ a few years ago. He gives him valuable tips sometimes. One of them is that you’ve been recognised, and that the warrant has been given for your arrest to-night.”

“Ah, my boy,” replied “Red Mullet,” lighting a fresh cigarette without turning a hair, “that’s really interesting. And if I go down to Bow Street depend upon it I shan’t go alone. So you can just go back to Berkeley Square, and tell Felix what I say.”

“Why – what’s the matter with you to-night, Charlie?” asked the other, looking at him in surprise.

What could the man know, he wondered? He seemed to scent the betrayal intended as soon as he was across the Channel.

“Matter?” he echoed. “Why, my dear Jim, I merely keep my eyes skinned, that’s all.”

“And you refuse to heed Felix’s warning?”

“Yes, I’m very comfortable at home here – and here I mean to stay. Let the police come along if they like and I’ll entertain them with a very interesting story. They re fond of hearing stories from men like myself, Jim.”

“What the devil is the matter with you!” cried Jannaway, turning upon him fiercely.

“Nothing, I’m only surprised to find you such a fool, Jim. I thought better of you,” was the other’s calm response. “Do you know,” he added, “you people who live in London want the moss scraped off you. We boys on the Continent are a lot sharper. We see the word danger written up, even when it’s beyond the horizon and the detective is still off the map. You people here deliberately run your heads into nooses.”

“How?”

“Well, you and Felix have arranged the little loop for yourselves in this affair, my dear boy. So do go home and sleep on it,” he laughed merrily.

“You’re a fool!” declared the other, turning from him impatiently.

“Of course. I’m a fool for not falling into the very clever trap which Sir Felix Challas and his sharp ‘cat’s-paw’, Jim Jannaway, have laid for me,” he answered, looking the fellow straight in the face.

“Bah! All this quarrel arises over a girl – a little chit of a girl who, after all, hasn’t much of a reputation to lose.”

“And to whom do you refer, pray?” asked Charlie, indignantly.

“To Griffin’s girl, of course – the girl who was with you so long in these chambers, and whom you pretended to regard with such paternal care,” he sneered.

“You cast a slur upon the poor girl who was your victim!” cried the red-haired man angrily.

“I cast no slur. I speak the truth.”

“Then you’re an accursed liar!” cried Mullet, angrily. “Having failed to entrap her, you come here to-night to try and have me! But your ruse is a little bit too thin! Let the police come and learn from me the truth concerning our beautiful Birthday Baronet! I’ll welcome them. So first go back with my compliments to Berkeley Square.”

“Then your intention, now you’re in danger, is to give us away – eh?” exclaimed Jannaway, now flushed and excited. And in a second he had snatched up a heavy bronze ornament from the mantelshelf, intending to bring it down upon the other’s head with a blow that must have crushed him.

In an instant, however, Mullet was on his guard. He was not a man to be taken by surprise.

“Now put that down at once, Jim, and clear out of my rooms,” he cried, and Jannaway found himself looking down the plated barrel of a serviceable-looking Smith-Wesson revolver.

“Curse you!” cried the man, and he cast the ornament heavily upon the floor.

“My dear Jim,” said the other, “the best place for you would really be on the Continent. You would learn wisdom, and would never attempt a bluff on a pal like this. You can’t attempt a four-flush with me, you know. So first go back to the ‘Birthday Money-Spinner’ and tell him ‘Red Mullet’s’ decision is to remain in London, and if necessary – to tell Scotland Yard the tale!”

“But – ”

“Curse you! There are no buts!” cried Red Mullet, his eyes now flashing with anger while he held his revolver straight at his enemy’s head. “Out of my rooms with you, or by Gad! I’ll plug you! I see through your clever little game. Once I’m over there, then you’d send me to prison without the least compunction – because I let the girl slip through your blackguardly fingers. But no more gas. I mean business to-night. Out you go – and quick!”

“You wouldn’t say this if I had a gun!” remarked Jannaway between his teeth.

“I care less for your gun than I do for you, my dear boy,” laughed “Red Mullet;” “go back to Challas, and tell him that to-night he’s tried to bluff the wrong man, and that he’ll have to pay heavily for losing the game.”

“You talk like an idiot.”

“And you’ve acted as one. Out and begone!”

And the man who, when he had entered, believed that he held all the honours in the game, was compelled to walk slowly out beneath the threatening muzzle of the weapon, cowed and vanquished.

“And now, Jim Jannaway!” Mullet cried, when he was on the threshold, “send your detectives along as soon as you like, for I’ll go to bed in an hour, and if they come afterwards I shan’t admit them. Understand that? Good-night and bad luck to you!” And with a laugh he slammed the door.

Then he held his breath, and stood staring straight before him, wondering whether that bold action had not been his own undoing.

Chapter Twenty Seven
Explains Frank’s Attitude

Christmas had passed, the New Year had been welcomed, its advent quickly forgotten, and London now lay dark and fog-bound in the yellow gloomy days of mid-January.

As far as Professor Griffin was concerned, little had occurred. His surprise when Gwen had told him of Erich Haupt being interested in the investigation of the secret was unbounded, and he had taken a cab at once to the Waldorf Hotel. He was anxious to meet the great German scholar, but was disappointed to learn that he had suddenly left the hotel on the previous night for the Continent.

Once again was he prevented from meeting the man who was working in opposition to him, even though he was now aware of his identity.

It puzzled him, as it also puzzled Diamond and Gwen, to know who was behind the German scholar. That there was some one was evident from what the girl had admitted. But his identity was still kept a profound secret.

Gwen had expected to be rung up on the telephone by Mullet, but having waited for three anxious days, found his number in the telephone directory and rang him up. She did so on four different occasions, but on each the response from the exchange was the same. “No reply.”

What could have happened?

Was it possible that he could have left hurriedly for the Continent? She recollected how he had told her that perhaps he would be compelled, by force of circumstances, to leave London, and leave her alone. She wrote him a brief note, and posted it, hoping that it might be forwarded to him.

Then she had waited – for nearly four long weeks.

Doctor Diamond came up from Horsford on several occasions, but the interviews he had with the Professor carried them no further. The key to the cipher was still an enigma which none could solve.

Griffin’s one thought was of Erich Haupt. He had returned to the Continent. Perhaps he was hot upon a solution of the tantalising problem.

In those four weeks, with the interval of a dreary Christmas spent alone with her father, nothing startling had occurred. The estrangement had driven Frank Farquhar to distraction. Jealousy had caused him to think ill of the girl he so dearly loved, and in order to try and forget, he had gone South for a week or so at Monte Carlo. But as soon as he stepped inside the Hotel de Paris, he had longed to be back again at Gwen’s side in Pembridge Gardens. The smart women he saw in their white serge gowns, golden chatelaines, and picture hats, all nauseated him. Of the lilies of France, none were half so fair as his own sweet English rose. Christmas he had spent with a big and merry house-party up in the Highlands, but the gaiety of it all bored him to death, and at last, when he returned in the New Year, he had, after a severe struggle with himself, driven down to Notting Hill Gate, and again bowed over the soft little hand of the girl whose wonderful eyes held him in such complete fascination.

For Gwen, that evening was a never-to-be-forgotten one.

She was seated by the fire at the further end of the study buried in the big saddle-bag chair with a book, while her father was busily writing, when the maid announced the young man’s arrival.

She held her breath. Her heart gave a great bound, and then stopped and she sat rigid, her face blanched, her hands grasping the arms of the chair.

She heard his well-known voice, and rising slowly, faced him without a word.

And he, without a word also, took her hand, bowing gallantly over it.

Then, with a half-timid look into her pretty face, he stammered:

“I – I’ve been wondering, Gwen, how you’ve been all this time. I’ve been away, first at Monte Carlo and afterwards up in Scotland. How did you spend your Christmas?”

“Well – it was not very exciting,” she laughed, “was it, dad?”

“No, my dear,” replied the old man, “I fear it was a very very dull time for you.”

Her lover glanced at her, and she saw by the expression of his eyes that he was full of genuine regret. That absence had, indeed, caused both their hearts to yearn for each other. He had, alas! been too hasty, he declared within himself. Would she ever forgive him? Would she ever allow him to kiss her again upon the lips?

Before her father his greeting was, of necessity, a somewhat formal one; besides, he was compelled to sit and discuss with him the present situation, and ask his opinion as to the next move in the game.

“The possession of a complete copy of Holmboe’s statement has carried us a good deal further. Professor,” he said, “but how are we now to act?”

“I really don’t know, my dear Farquhar,” was the elder man’s response, as he rubbed his big round glasses.

“I only wish this man Mullet would tell Diamond a little more,” he sighed. “We ought to discover who is directing the opposition against us.”

“That’s just where we are so completely handicapped. We’re handicapped in two directions,” said the Professor. “First, we remain in ignorance of the identity of our enemy, and secondly we are at a loss to discover the key to the cipher. We now know the truth concerning the Russian’s discovery, and naturally we are beckoned on to see what more may be added to the mental outfit of our religion and our civilisation, by recovering the sacred treasures that yet remain. The occasional excavations scattered through the last two centuries in Palestine, Egypt, Rome and Assyria, have shown but a fraction of all that has to be done. Such a prospect is most attractive, and if we could but find the key to the cipher the interest of the whole Jewish race would instantly be stimulated, and we should certainly not lack funds for the expedition, the purchase of the land in question, and the necessary excavations. It would be a great undertaking of international co-operation, but no loophole must be allowed for vandalism and wrecking, of which we have so much evidence in the past few centuries. Such wrecking is, alas! by no means unknown, even down to our day. The Department of Antiquities in Egypt, for instance, at the present moment, sells the right to dig up and destroy all the Roman buildings in Egypt at so much per thousand bricks removed by the speculators! We must allow no such sort of speculation with the treasures of Israel.”

“I take it, Professor, that our opponents are anti-Semitics of the most pronounced type,” said Farquhar. “At least, so the Doctor informs me. Once it is in their hand their chief object will be to destroy the sacred relics, and melt down the golden vessels. Diamond says, that according to his information, those working against us are rich, and have no need of gain. The whole of their energies are directed towards an anti-Semitic demonstration – one that would convulse the whole civilised world.”

“We will not allow it, Farquhar!” cried the old Hebrew scholar, bringing his hand down heavily upon his writing-table. “I am not a Jew, but while it remains within my power I will never allow the sacred relics of Israel to be desecrated.”

“If they exist,” added Gwen from the depths of her armchair.

“They do exist!” exclaimed her father, “of that I now feel quite convinced. At first I was very sceptical, but I have spent many weeks in close and ardent study, and my first opinion is now greatly modified.”

“And you anticipate that we shall one day gain a knowledge of the mode of reaching that cipher record?” asked Frank, eagerly.

“I fervently hope so,” was the elder man’s response. “I hope so in the interests of the Hebrew race. As soon as I write my article in the Contemporary or in the Jewish Chronicle, the world will instantly be agog.”

“But until you have read the hidden message for yourself you will write nothing?” remarked Farquhar.

“Of course not. We must closely preserve the secret for the present. Not a soul must know, or Holmboe’s discovery will most certainly get to the ears of some enterprising journalist. Why, we’d be having one of your papers, Frank, sending out an expedition in search of the Ark of the Covenant!” he laughed. “And that would surely be fatal.”

Farquhar held his breath for a few seconds.

“Why fatal, Professor?” he asked, for it was at the bade of his head to suggest to Sir George the advisability of despatching an expedition when the time was ripe.

“Fatal to the scheme as well as to the newspaper,” was the elder man’s response. “Even you modern journalists cannot make money by exploiting sacred relics of such importance.”

“No, but we could investigate for the benefit of the Hebrew race. We sorely would not lose prestige by that?”

“Yes, you would. No Jew, or even Christian for that matter, would ever believe that a newspaper defrayed the cost of an expedition out of pure regard for the interests of the Hebrew faith.” He laughed. “The public know too well that a ‘boom’ means to a newspaper increased circulation, and, therefore, increased income. Before these days of the yellow journalism, the press was supposed to be above such ruses; but now the public receives the journalistic ‘boom’ with its tongue in its cheek.”

“You’re quite right, Professor, quite right!” remarked Frank, for the first time realising that to “work” the treasure of Israel as a “boom” for his group of newspapers and periodicals was impossible. “I’ve only regarded it from the business side, and not from the sentimental. I see now that any newspaper touching it would be treading dangerous ground, and might at once wound religious susceptibilities.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen it in that light!” replied the old scholar, stroking his grey hair. “As far as I can discern, the best mode of procedure – providing of course, that we can discover the key number to the numerical cipher – is for me to write an article in the Contemporary with a view to obtaining the financial assistance of the Jewish community. I know the Jew well enough to be confident, that all, from the Jew pedlar in the East End to the family of Rothschild itself, would unite in assisting to discover the sacred treasures of the Temple.” And for half an hour or so they chatted, until Frank was able to slip away with Gwen into the drawing-room where, without a single word, he clasped her in his arms passionately and kissed her upon the lips.

He held her closely pressed to his breast, as he stroked her soft hair tenderly, and looked into those wide-open, trustful eyes. Surely that frank expression of true and abiding love could not be feigned! There is, in a true woman’s eyes, a love-look that cannot lie! He saw it, and was at once satisfied.

In a low voice he begged forgiveness for misjudging her, repeating his great and unbounded affection. She heard his quick strained voice, and listened to his heartfelt words, and then, unable to restrain her joy at his return, her head fell upon his shoulders, and she burst into tears.

She was his, she whispered, still his – and his alone.

And he held her sobbing in his strong arms, as his hand still stroked her hair and his lips again bent until they touched her fair white brow in fierce and passionate caress.