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Once or twice I had received "ferma in posta" confidential letters from Rudolph Rayne and also from Duperré. To these I replied to an unsuspicious address a library in Knightsbridge. By reason, however, of keeping observation upon the Palazzo Romanelli I gained considerable knowledge concerning those who came and went.
One fact is plain, that you, like myself, are an agent of the man of abnormal brain known as 'The Golden Face, but I tell you I refuse to become a jewel-thief." "Very well, if that is your irrevocable decision I will return to-morrow and report," he answered in very good English, though he was typically Italian. "But I warn you that mischief is meant if you do not obey. Duperré told me so.
For a whole month we remained at Salerno, and a delightful month it proved, for I had long chats and walks with Lola, and we became even greater and more intimate friends. Madame Duperré noticed it but said nothing.
A week later I learned how, by Rayne's devilish cunning, I had been tricked. When I knew the truth, I bit my lips to the blood. The widow Rodanet had, it appeared, been staying at the Palais, in Biarritz, when Duperré and I had been there. She had been marked down by Rayne as a victim, for the Dent du Chat was a stone of enormous value.
While the express roared through its first stage to Moret, I chatted with Rudolph and Blumenfeld after the latter's wife had retired, and as we sat in the dim light of the corridor of the sleeping-car smoking cigarettes, all seemed absolutely normal. Suddenly from the end compartment of the car Duperré came forth.
Hargreave," he said. "You are one of us, I know. Therefore 'The Golden Face' sends you a message." "Have you seen him?" I asked. "No," was his reply. "Though we have been in association for several years, I always receive messages through Vincent Duperré." I knew that only too well.
I must, however, warn him to arm himself with patience; for though the Tahaitians are very ready with their assistance, they have quite as bad a habit as ourselves of laughing at any one who speaks their language ill, I say this from experience. Some months before us, the French Captain Duperré had visited Tahaiti upon a voyage of discovery, in the corvette Coquille.
As we waited the odor of roses became much more pronounced, yet I sat at my post by the open window as though wanting fresh air, for the big sleeping-car was very stuffy, the heating apparatus being on. At last we moved out again, and I breathlessly waited for Duperré to hand me something to toss out to Tracy who was ready with the three signal lights beside the line.
Lloyd had been with us Duperré had been absent in Brussels, I believe. His identity was evidently being concealed with some distinctly malicious purpose. I waited with curiosity. Next day Lola, who with her woman's intuition had scented that something sinister was intended, expressed surprise to me that Mr. Lloyd was going to Spain.
The whole of the following morning Duperré and Rayne were closeted together, while afterwards I drove Duperré into York, where from the telegraph office in the railway station he sent several cryptic messages abroad, of course posing to the telegraph clerk as a passing railway passenger. Rayne never sent important telegrams from the village post-office at Overstow, or even from Thirsk.
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