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Your friendship may one day stand you in very good stead." That the young woman was someone of great importance in the criminal combine was apparent from the fact that she had been actually introduced to its secret head.
If the blood of the murderer could not be had, then someone else's blood must be shed someone, too, of equal rank and dignity. Hongi could not bring himself to accept the new message of peace, and his dissatisfaction was, it would seem, fanned by Kendall, who had ambitions of his own to serve.
Instead of going to the sketch-class, which was held at six in the evening, she hurried to the address that Oliver Haddo had given her. She went along the crowded street stealthily, as though afraid that someone would see her, and her heart was in a turmoil. She desired with all her might not to go, and sought vehemently to prevent herself, and yet withal she went.
In reply to her half-awaked cry of "All right," the hoarse voice of a sailor told her that the Southern Cross had just risen above the horizon. She had a drowsy recollection of someone saying that the famous constellation would make its appearance at seven bells, not at five, and the difference of an hour, when the time happens to be 2:30 instead of 8:30 a.m. is a matter of some importance.
Suddenly the room burst into light as someone pressed an electric, light button. General Rentzel strode into the room. His eyes fell upon Hal and McKenzie immediately. He said nothing, but gazed about. Then he saw the shattered safe. He dashed forward with a cry and examined the interior, carefully. Then his face turned white as he faced Hal. "The list," he said in a hoarse voice, "where is it?"
"So that the clearing up of my fourth point id est, the discovery of the nature of these preparations becomes our immediate concern. The prime object of these preparations, Petrie, was to enable someone to gain access to Eltham's room. The other events are incidental. The dogs HAD to be got rid of, for instance; and there is no doubt that Miss Eltham's wakefulness saved her father a second time."
The next day, that is, Tuesday, the 28th, I had a business meeting with my friends, Mr. Gautron and Mr. Pierre Mortier, editor of the Gil Blas. Mr. Gautron was on the minute, but Mr. Mortier kept us waiting over an hour and when finally we had despaired of his coming I heard someone hurrying across the court, and the bell was rung impatiently. Mr.
The door resisted me: it was locked. I paused a moment, and then tapped gently. I heard a sudden rustle within, as if someone hurried across the floor away from the door, and then Margot's voice cried sharply: "Who's that? Who is there?" "Margot, it is I. I wish to speak to you to say good-night." "Good-night," she said. "But let me in for a moment."
At last, someone she felt she could not raise her eyes to his face brought her some breakfast and coffee. She drank the latter, but left the food untasted. Finally, she was led to the sergeant's private room and told that she must give an account of herself.
Then the crier called, "Huntress, alias Mistress o' the Breeches." "Here," answered someone else, she herself not saying a word because they did not "madam" her. Next was called the Schemer, alias Jack-of-all-Trades. But he, too, failed to answer, for he was assiduously plotting to escape the Land of Despair.
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