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Updated: May 29, 2025
If Mortimer and Strangwise were both staying at the Dyke Inn, then they were probably acquainted. Strangwise knew Nur-el-Din, too, knew her well; for Desmond remembered how familiarly they had conversed together that night in the dancer's dressing-room at the Palaceum. Strangwise knew Barbara Mackwayte also.
"Matthews had a look at Strangwise's companions, and seeing Bellward, of course, takes him for you. As for the lady, she had a black lace muffler wound about her face. "'Miss Mackwayte's coming with us, Matthews, Strangwise says, seeing Matthews look at the lady. That removed the last of any lurking suspicions that old Matthews might have had.
Bellward shook her off roughly. "Neat work!" said Strangwise. "She's a wonder with the knife!" agreed the other. Barbara stamped her foot. "If neither of you men have the courage to go down," she cried, "then I'll go alone! As for you, Captain Strangwise, a British officer..." She never finished the sentence. Strangwise caught her by the shoulder and thrust the cold barrel of a pistol in her face.
That basilisk glare held him fast. With every faculty of his mind he fought against the influence which was slowly, irresistibly, shackling his brain. He laughed, he shouted defiance at Bellward and Strangwise, he sang snatches of songs. But Bellward never moved a muscle. He seemed to be in a kind of cataleptic trance, so rigid his body, so unswerving his stare.
You see, then," he continued, "you've got the ringleader, and you shall have the other two members of the organization and save your own life into the bargain if you will be reasonable and treat with me." Desmond looked straight at him; and Strangwise averted his eyes. "Let me get this right," said Desmond slowly.
"But I think I can guess it. It's about Strangwise, isn't it?" Desmond nodded. "He was shot yesterday morning," he replied. "I'm glad they did it in France. I was terrified lest they should want me to go to it." "Why?" asked the girl with a suspicion of indignation in her voice, "he deserved no mercy." "No," replied Desmond slowly, "he was a bad fellow a Prussian through and through.
Marigold was there, chatting with Captain Strangwise who seemed to be just taking his leave; there was a short, fat, Jewish-looking man, very resplendently dressed with a large diamond pin in his cravat and a small, insignificant looking gentleman with a gray moustache and the red rosette of the Legion of Honor in his button-hole.
He's a man absolutely without fear." "Yes," agreed the Chief. "But what about his judgment? Would you call him a well-balanced fellow? Or is he one of these harum-scarum soldier of fortune sort of chaps?" "I should say he was devilish shrewd," replied the other. "Strangwise is a very able fellow and a fine soldier. The Brigadier thought a lot of him.
He said something to Strangwise with thumb jerked behind him, whereupon the latter clapped him, as though in approval, on the shoulder, and both hurried out together. Puzzled though he was by the scene he had just witnessed, Desmond did not dare to tarry longer. The roof of the outhouse was only some ten feet from the ground, an easy drop.
Desmond heard Strangwise speak to the dog and reenter the house. Then silence fell again. With a tremendous effort Desmond swung his legs athwart the pipe, gripped it with his right hand, then his left, and very gently commenced to let himself down.
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