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Updated: June 14, 2025
Santini, miss." "Ah!" exclaimed Jack quickly, as Olinto entered the room. "Then you had my note! We have asked you here to reveal to us this dastardly plot which seemed to have been formed against Mr. Gregg and myself. As you know, I've had a narrow escape." "I know, signore. And the Signor Commendatore is also threatened." "By whom?"
I asked, seeing that I would be compelled to take something. "Perhaps you will have one with me?" "Ach no! But a kümmel yes, I will have a kümmel!" And he filled our glasses, and tossed off his own at a single gulp, smacking his lips after it, for the average Russian dearly loves his national decoction of caraway seeds. "You find Olinto a good servant, I suppose?"
Contrary to my expectations, the sitting-room we entered on the top floor was quite comfortably furnished, clean and respectable, even though traces of poverty were apparent. A cheap lamp was burning upon the table, but the apartment was unoccupied. Olinto, in surprise, passed into the adjoining room, returning a moment later, exclaiming "Armida must have gone out to get something.
But the unseen enemy is always the more dangerous; hence my deep apprehensive reflections that day as I walked those sordid back streets "over the water," as the Cockney refers to the district between those two main arteries of traffic, the Waterloo and Westminster Bridge Roads. My unknown enemies had secured the services of Olinto in their dastardly plot to kill me. With what motive?
Muriel was already helping my love out of her heavy Russian coat, a costly garment lined with sable, and when, after greeting Jack and Olinto, she was comfortably seated, I took some notepaper from the little writing-table by the window and scribbled in pencil the words: "I need not write how delighted I am that you are safe that the Almighty has heard my prayers for you.
Yet I don't fear them in the least," I declared. "I must rescue the Signorina Heath." "But, signore, have a care for yourself," cried the Italian, laying his hand upon my arm. "You are a marked man. Ah! do I not know," he exclaimed breathlessly. "If you go out you may run right into well, the fatal accident." "Never fear, Olinto," I said reassuringly. "I shall keep my eyes well open.
Presently, when by signs both Jack and Olinto had urged her to write, she bent suddenly, and her pencil began to run swiftly over the paper. All of us stood exchanging glances in silence, neither looking over her, but each determined to wait in patience until the end. Once started, however, she did not pause. Sheet after sheet she covered.
In this affair, Olinto, our interests are mutual, are they not?" He nodded, after a moment's hesitation. "And you know also a man named Archer who is sometimes known as Hornby, or Woodroffe as well as a friend of his called Chater." "Si, signore," he said. "I have met them all to my regret." "And have you ever met a Russian a certain Baron Oberg and his niece, Elma Heath?" "His niece?
That day I did my business in the city with a distrust of everyone, not knowing whether I was not followed or whether those who sought my life were not plotting some other equally ingenious move whereby I might go innocently to my death. I endeavored to discover Olinto by every possible means during those stifling days that followed.
Again Olinto elevated his shoulders, without replying. If he would only betray to me the reason he had been induced to entice me to that house, I might then be able to form some conclusion regarding the tenants of Rannoch and their friends. Who was the man who, having represented the man now before me, had been struck dead by an unerring hand?
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