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Updated: May 14, 2025
We drink to the Double-Four to the great cause!" There was a murmur of voices. Sogrange lifted once more his glass. "May Peter Ruff rest in peace!" he said. "We drink to his ashes. We drink long life and prosperity to the Baron de Grost!" It was half past twelve, and every table at the Berkeley Bridge Club was occupied.
"Our active aid towards such an end," Sogrange said at last, "is impossible. The Society of the Double-Four does not interfere in the domestic policy of other nations for the sake of individual members." "Then let me ask you why I find you upon this steamer?" Mr. Fanshawe demanded, in a tone of suppressed excitement.
According to her will, and in deference to the position which you must now take up among us, we will treat you as no other has ever been treated by us. The Double-Four admits your leadership and claims you for its own." "I am not prepared to discuss anything of the sort," Peter Ruff declared, doggedly, "until my wife is restored to me." The Marquis smiled. "The traditions of your race, Mr.
"Don't you understand," Peter Ruff continued, softly, "that I myself am still what they call a corresponding member of the 'Double-Four, and they have a right to appeal to me for help in this country, as I have a right to appeal to them for help or information in France? We have both made use of one another, to some extent.
I am engaged in a little matter which, I must confess, perplexes me. I want your advice, perhaps your help." "I am quite ready," she answered, smiling. "It is a long time since you gave me anything to do." "You have heard of Guillot?" She reflected for a moment. "You mean the wonderful Frenchman," she asked, "the head of the criminal department of the Double-Four?"
"The man who was at its head when it existed. The criminal department, as you know, has all been done away with. The Double-Four has now no more concern with those who break the law, save in those few instances where great issues demand it." "But Monsieur Guillot still exists?" "He not only exists," answered Peter, "but he is here in London, a rebel and a defiant one.
"I do not understand how you gentlemen whom one knows by name so well as patrons of sport and society, can spare the time for affairs of such importance." Monsieur de Founcelles nodded. "We have very valuable aid," he said. "There is below us the 'Double-Four' the eight gentlemen now present, an executive council composed of five of the shrewdest men in France. They take their orders from us.
Use it for the common good. And, remember this the Double-Four has never failed, the Double-Four never can fail." "I am glad to hear you are so confident," Peter Ruff said. "Of course, if I have to take this thing on, I shall do my best, but if I might venture to allude, for a moment, to anything so trifling as my own domestic affairs, I am very anxious to know about my wife." Sogrange smiled.
"Steward," he directed, "bring me a glass of Vermouth and some dominoes." Peter's eyes were suddenly bright. Sogrange touched his foot under the table and whispered a word of warning. The dominoes were brought. The newcomer arranged them as though for a game. Then he calmly withdrew the double-four and laid it before Sogrange.
He was of medium height; he wore a frock-coat a little frayed; gray trousers which had not been recently pressed; and thick boots. "I understand that one of your waiters requires my attendance," he said, in a tone not unduly raised but still fairly audible. "I am Dr. Gilette." "Dr. Gilette," Antoine repeated, slowly. "And number Double-Four," the doctor murmured. Antoine descended from his desk.
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