HAVOC 
 
 . 
 
 E.PHILUPS OPPENHEBU
 
 HAVOC
 
 HAVOC 
 
 By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM 
 
 Author of "The Illustrious Prince," "The Lost 
 
 Ambassador " "A Prince of Sinners," 
 
 "The Missioner," etc. 
 
 WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY HOWARD CHANDLER CHRISTY 
 
 A L. BURT COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
 
 Copyright, 1910, 1911, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY". 
 
 All rights reserved 
 Published, October, 1911
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I CROWNED HEADS MEET 1 
 
 II ARTHUR DORWARD'S "Scoop" 12 
 
 III "OURS is A STRANGE COURTSHIP" 19 
 
 IV THE NIGHT TRAIN FROM VIENNA 24 
 
 V "VoN BEHRLJNG HAS THE PACKET" 31 
 
 VI VON BEHRLING is TEMPTED 42 
 
 VII "WE PLAY FOR GREAT STAKES" ....... 48 
 
 VIII THE HAND OF MISFORTUNE 54 
 
 IX ROBBING THE DEAD 59 
 
 X BELLAMY is OUTWITTED 67 
 
 XI VON BEHRLING'S FATE 75 
 
 XII BARON DE STREUSS' PROPOSAL 84 
 
 XIII STEPHEN LAVERICK'S CONSCIENCE 92 
 
 XIV ARTHUR MORRISON'S COLLAPSE 102 
 
 XV LAVERICK'S PARTNER FLEES 112 
 
 XVI THE WAITER AT THE "BLACK POST" .... 122 
 
 XVII THE PRICE OF SILENCE 131 
 
 XVIII THE LONELY CHORUS GIRL 135 
 
 XIX MYSTERIOUS INQUIRIES 145 
 
 XX LAVERICK is CROSS EXAMINED 154 
 
 XXI MADEMOISELLE IDIALE'S VISIT 166 
 
 XXII ACTIVITY OF AUSTRIAN SPIES 176 
 
 XXIII LAVERICK AT THE OPERA 185 
 
 2137484
 
 vi CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIV A SUPPER PARTY AT LUIGI'S 194 
 
 XXV JIM SHEPHERD'S SCARE 203 
 
 XXVI THE DOCUMENT DISCOVERED 212 
 
 XXVEI PENETRATING A MYSTERY 220 
 
 XXVIII LAVERICK'S NARROW ESCAPE 232 
 
 XXIX LASSEN'S TREACHERY DISCOVERED .... 244 
 
 XXX THE CONTEST FOR THE PAPERS 250 
 
 XXXI Miss LENEVEU'S MESSAGE 261 
 
 XXXII MORRISON is DESPERATE 271 
 
 XXXIII LAVERICK'S ARREST 282 
 
 XXXIV MORRISON'S DISCLOSURE 288 
 
 XXXV BELLAMY'S SUCCESS 298 
 
 XXXVI LAVERICK ACQUITTED 307 
 
 XXXVII THE PLOT THAT FAILED 312 
 
 XXXVIII A FAREWELL APPEARANCE . 320
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Laverick, with a single bound, was upon his 
 
 assailant Frontispiece 
 
 " Tell me, are they afraid of me, your 
 
 friends? 11 Page 42 
 
 There was no doubt about her beauty . . " 160 
 
 Zoe had fallen asleep in a small, uncomfort- 
 able easy-chair . . ...... " 205
 
 HAVOC 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 CROWNED HEADS MEET 
 
 BELLAMY, King's Spy, and Dorward, journalist, known 
 to fame in every English-speaking country, stood before 
 the double window of their spacious sitting-room, look- 
 ing down upon the thoroughfare beneath. Both men 
 were laboring under a bitter sense of failure. Bellamy's 
 face was dark with forebodings; Dorward was irritated 
 and nervous. Failure was a new thing to him a thing 
 which those behind the great journals which he repre- 
 sented understood less, even, than he. JBellamy loved 
 his country, and fear was gnawing at his heart. 
 
 Below, the crowds which had been waiting patiently 
 for many hours broke into a tumult of welcoming voices. 
 Down their thickly-packed lines the volume of sound 
 arose and grew, a faint murmur at first, swelling and 
 growing to a thunderous roar. Myriads of hats were sud- 
 denly torn from the heads of the excited multitude, hand- 
 kerchiefs waved from every window. It was a wonderful 
 greeting, this. 
 
 " The Czar on his way to the railway station," Bellamy 
 remarked. 
 
 The broad avenue was suddenly thronged with a mass 
 of soldiery guardsmen of the most famous of Austrian 
 regiments, brilliant in their white uniforms, their flashing 
 helmets. The small brougham with its great black
 
 2 HAVOC 
 
 horses was almost hidden within a ring of naked steel. 
 Dorward, an American to the backbone and a bitter 
 democrat, thrust out his under-lip. 
 
 "The Anointed of the Lord !" he muttered. 
 
 Far away from some other quarter came the same roar 
 of voices, muffled yet insistent, charged with that faint, 
 exciting timbre which seems always to live in the cry of 
 the multitude. 
 
 "The Emperor," declared Bellamy. "He goes to the 
 West station." 
 
 The commotion had passed. The crowds in the street 
 below were on the move, melting away now with a muffled 
 trampling of feet and a murmur of voices. The two men 
 turned from their window back into the room. Dorward 
 commenced to roll a cigarette with yellow-stained, ner- 
 vous fingers, while Bellamy threw himself into an easy- 
 chair with a gesture of depression. 
 
 "So it is over, this long-talked-of meeting," he said, 
 half to himself, half to Dorward. " It is over, and Europe 
 is left to wonder." 
 
 "They were together for scarcely more than an hour," 
 Dorward murmured. 
 
 "Long enough," Bellamy answered. "That little room 
 in the Palace, my friend, may yet become famous." 
 
 "If you and I could buy its secrets," Dorward re- 
 marked, finally shaping a cigarette and lighting it, "we 
 should be big bidders, I think. I'd give fifty thousand 
 dollars myself to be able to cable even a hundred words 
 of their conversation." 
 
 "For the truth," Bellamy said, "the whole truth, there 
 could be no price sufficient. We made our effort in differ- 
 ent directions, both of us. With infinite pains I planted 
 I may tell you this now that the thing is over seven
 
 CROWNED HEADS MEET 3 
 
 spies in the Palace. They have been of as much use as 
 rabbits. I don't believe that a single one of them got any 
 further than the kitchens." 
 
 Dorward nodded gloomily. 
 
 " I guess they were n't taking any chances up there," 
 he remarked. "There wasn't a secretary in the room. 
 Carstairs was nearly thrown out, and he had a permit to 
 enter the Palace. The great staircase was held with 
 soldiers, and Dick swore that there were Maxims in the 
 corridors." 
 
 Bellamy sighed. 
 
 "We shall hear the roar of bigger guns before we are 
 many months older, Dorward," he declared. 
 
 The journalist glanced at his friend keenly. 
 
 "You believe that?" 
 
 Bellamy shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Do you suppose that this meeting is for nothing?" 
 he asked. "When Austria, Germany and Russia stand 
 whispering in a corner, can't you believe it is across the 
 North Sea that they point? Things have been shaping 
 that way for years, and the time is almost ripe." 
 
 " You English are too nervous to live, nowadays," Dor- 
 ward declared impatiently. " I 'd just like to know what 
 they said about America." 
 
 Bellamy smiled with faint but delicate irony. 
 
 "Without a doubt, the Prince will tell you," he said. 
 "He can scarcely do more to show his regard for your 
 country. He is giving you a special interview you 
 alone out of about two hundred journalists. Very likely 
 he will give you an exact account of everything that 
 transpired. First of all, he will assure you that this 
 meeting has been brought about in the interests of peace. 
 He will tell you that the welfare of your dear country is
 
 4 HAVOC 
 
 foremost in the thoughts of his master. He will assure 
 you "' 
 
 "Say, you're jealous, my friend," Dorward inter- 
 rupted calmly. "I wonder what you'd give me for my 
 ten minutes alone with the Chancellor, eh ? " 
 
 "If he told me the truth," Bellamy asserted, "I'd give 
 my life for it. For the sort of stuff you're going to hear, 
 I'd give nothing. Can't you realize that for yourself, 
 Dorward ? You .know the man false as Hell but with 
 the tongue of a serpent. He will grasp your hand; he 
 will declare himself glad to speak through you to the great 
 Anglo-Saxon races to England and to his dear friends 
 the Americans. He is only too pleased to have the oppor- 
 tunity of expressing himself candidly and openly. Peace 
 is to be the watchword of the future. The white doves 
 have hovered over the Palace. The rulers of the earth 
 have met that the crash of arms may be stilled and that 
 this terrible unrest which broods over Europe shall finally 
 be broken up. They have pledged themselves hand in 
 hand to work together for this object, Russia, broken 
 and humiliated, but with an immense army still available, 
 whose only chance of holding her place among the 
 nations is another and a successful war; Austria, on fire 
 for the seaboard Austria, to whom war would give the 
 desire of her existence; Germany, with Bismarck's last 
 but secret words written in letters of fire on the walls of 
 her palaces, in the hearts of her rulers, in the brain of her 
 great Emperor. Colonies ! Expansion ! Empire ! Whose 
 colonies, I wonder? Whose empire? Will he tell you 
 that, my friend Dorward?" 
 
 The journalist shrugged his shoulders and glanced at 
 the clock. 
 
 "I guess he'll tell me what he chooses and I shall
 
 CROWNED HEADS MEET 5 
 
 print it," he answered indifferently. "It's all part of 
 the game, of course. I am not exactly chicken enough to 
 expect the truth. All the same, my message will come 
 from the lips of the Chancellor immediately after this 
 wonderful meeting." 
 
 "He makes use of you," Bellamy declared, "to throw 
 dust into our eyes and yours." 
 
 "Even so," Dorward admitted, "I don't care so long 
 as I get the copy. It's good-bye, I suppose?" 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "I shall go on to Berlin, perhaps, to-morrow," he said. 
 "I can do no more good here. And you?" 
 
 "After I've sent my cable I'm off to Belgrade for a 
 week, at any rate," Dorward answered. "I hear the 
 women are forming rifle clubs all through Servia." 
 
 Bellamy smiled thoughtfully. 
 
 "I know one who'll want a place among the leaders," 
 he murmured. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Idiale, I suppose?" 
 
 Bellamy assented. 
 
 "It's a queer position hers, if you like," he said. "All 
 Vienna raves about her. They throng the Opera House 
 every night to hear her sing, and they pay her the biggest 
 salary which has ever been known here. Three parts of 
 it she sends to Belgrade to the Chief of the Committee 
 for National Defence. The jewels that are sent her 
 anonymously go to the same place, all to buy arms to 
 fight these people who worship her. I tell you, Dor- 
 ward," he added, rising to his feet and walking to the 
 window, "the patriotism of these people is something we 
 colder races scarcely understand. Perhaps it is because 
 we have never dwelt under the shadow of a conqueror. 
 If ever Austria is given a free hand, it will be no mere
 
 6 HAVOC 
 
 war upon which she enters, it will be a carnage, an 
 extermination ! " 
 
 Dorward looked once more at the clock and rose slowly 
 to his feet. 
 
 " Well," he said, " I must n't keep His Excellency 
 waiting. Good-bye, and cheer up, Bellamy ! Your old 
 country is n't going to turn up her heels yet." 
 
 Out he went long, lank, uncouth, with yellow- 
 stained fingers and hatchet-shaped, gray face a strange 
 figure but yet a power. Bellamy remained. For a while 
 he seemed doubtful how to pass the time. He stood in 
 front of the window, watching the dispersal of the crowds 
 and the marching by of a regiment of soldiers, whose 
 movements he followed with critical interest, for he, too, 
 had been in the service. He had still a military bearing, 
 tall, and with complexion inclined to be dusky, a small 
 black moustache, dark eyes, a silent mouth, a man of 
 many reserves. Even his intimates knew little of him. 
 Nevertheless, his was the reticence which befitted well 
 his profession. 
 
 After a time he sat down and wrote some letters. He 
 had just finished when there came a sharp tap at the door. 
 Before he could open his lips some one had entered. He 
 heard the soft swirl of draperies and turned sharply 
 round, then sprang to his feet and held out both his 
 hands. There was expression in his face now as much 
 as he ever suffered to appear there. 
 
 "Louise!" he exclaimed. " What good fortune !" 
 
 She held his fingers for a moment in a manner which 
 betokened a more than common intimacy. Then she 
 threw herself into an easy-chair and raised her thick veil. 
 Bellamy looked at her for a moment in sorrowful silence. 
 There were violet lines underneath her beautiful eyes,
 
 CROWNED HEADS MEET 7 
 
 her cheeks were destitute of any color. There was an 
 abandonment of grief about her attitude which moved 
 him. She sat as one broken-spirited, in whom the power 
 of resistance was dead. 
 
 "It is over, then," she said softly, "this meeting. The 
 word has been spoken." 
 
 He came and stood by her side. 
 
 ''As yet," he reminded her, "we do not know what 
 that word may be." 
 
 She shook her head mournfully. 
 
 ''Who can doubt?" she exclaimed. "For myself, I 
 feel it in the air ! I can see it in the faces of the people 
 who throng the city ! I can hear it in the peals of those 
 awful bells ! You know nothing ? You have heard 
 nothing?" 
 
 Bellamy shook his head. 
 
 "I did all that was humanly possible," he said, drop- 
 ping his voice. "An Englishman in Vienna to-day has 
 very little opportunity. I filled the Palace with spies, but 
 they had n't a dog's chance. There was n't even a sec- 
 retary present. The Czar, the two Emperors and the 
 Chancellor, not another soul was in the room." 
 
 " If only Von Behrling had been taken !" she exclaimed. 
 "He was there in reserve, I know, as stenographer. I 
 have but to lift my hand and it is enough. I would have 
 had the truth from him, whatever it cost me." 
 
 Bellamy looked at her thoughtfully. It was not for 
 nothing that the Press of every European nation had 
 called her the most beautiful woman in the world. He 
 frowned slightly at her last words, for he loved her. 
 
 " Von Behrling was not even allowed to cross the thresh- 
 old," he said sharply. 
 
 She moved her head and looked up at him. She was
 
 8 HAVOC 
 
 leaning a little forward now, her chin resting upon her 
 hands. Something about the lines of her long, supple 
 body suggested to him the savage animal crouching for 
 a spring. She was quiet, but her bosom was heaving, 
 and he could guess at the passion within. With purpose 
 he spoke to set it loose. 
 
 "You sing to-night?" he asked. 
 
 "Before God, no!" she answered, the anger blazing 
 out of her eyes, shaking in her voice. " I sing no more in 
 this accursed city!" 
 
 "There will be a revolution," Bellamy remarked. "I 
 see that the whole city is placarded with notices. It is to 
 be a gala night at the Opera. The royal party is to be 
 present." 
 
 Her body seemed to quiver like a tree shaken by the 
 wind. 
 
 " What do I care I I for their gala night ! If 
 I were like Samson, if I could pull down the pillars of 
 their Opera House and bury them all in its ruins, I would 
 doit!" 
 
 He took her hand and smoothed it in his. 
 
 "Dear Louise, it is useless, this. You do everything 
 that can be done for your country." 
 
 Her eyes were streaming and her fingers sought his. 
 
 "My friend David," she said, "you do not understand. 
 None of you English yet can understand what it is to 
 crouch in the shadow of this black fear, to feel a tyrant's 
 hand come creeping out, to know that your life-blood and 
 the life-blood of all your people must be shed, and shed in 
 vain. To rob a nation of their liberty, ah ! it is worse, 
 this, than murder, a worse crime than his who stains 
 the soul of a poor innocent girl ! It is a sin against nature 
 herself!"
 
 CROWNED HEADS MEET 9 
 
 She was sobbing now, and she c utched his hands 
 passionately. 
 
 "Forgive me," she murmured, "I am overwrought. I 
 have borne up against this thing so long. I can do no 
 more good here. I come to tell you that I go away till the 
 time comes. I go to your London. They want me to 
 sing for them there. I shall do it." 
 
 "You will break your engagement?" 
 
 She laughed at him scornfully. 
 
 "I am Idiale," she declared. "I keep no engagement 
 if I do not choose. I will sing ho more to this people 
 whom I hate. My friend David, I have suffered enough. 
 Their applause I loathe their covetous eyes as they 
 watch me move about the stage oh, I could strike 
 them all dead ! They come to me, these young Austrian 
 noblemen, as though I were already one of a conquered 
 race. I keep their diamonds but I destroy their messages. 
 Their jewels go to my chorus girls or to arm my people. 
 But no one of them has had a kind word from me save 
 where there has been something to be gained. Even Von 
 Behrling I have fooled with promises. No Austrian 
 shall ever touch my lips I have sworn it!" 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "Yes," he assented, "they call you cold here in the 
 capital ! Even in the Palace " 
 
 She held out her hand. 
 
 "It is finished!" she declared. "I sing no more. I 
 have sent word to the Opera House. I came here to be 
 in hiding for a while. They will search for me everywhere. 
 To-night or to-morrow I leave for England." 
 
 Bellamy stood thoughtfully silent. 
 
 "I am not sure that you are wise," he said. "You take 
 it too much for granted that the end has come.**
 
 io HAVOC 
 
 "And do you not yourself believe it?" she demanded. 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 "As yet there is no proof," he reminded her. 
 
 "Proof!" 
 
 She sat upright in her chair. Her hands thrust him 
 from her, her bosom heaved, a spot of color flared in her 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Proof!" she cried. "What do you suppose, then, 
 that these wolves have plotted for? What else do you 
 suppose could be Austria's share of the feast ? Could n't 
 you hear our fate in the thunder of their voices when that 
 miserable monarch rode back to his captivity? We are 
 doomed betrayed ! You remember the Massacre of 
 St. Bartholomew, a blood-stained page of history for all 
 time. The world would tell you that we have outlived 
 the age ol such barbarous doings. It is not true. My 
 friend David, it is not true. It is a more terrible thing, 
 this which is coming. Body and soul we are to perish." 
 
 He came over to her side once more and laid his hand 
 soothingly on hers. It was heart-rending to witness the 
 agony of the woman he loved. 
 
 "Dear Louise," he said, "after all, this is profitless. 
 There may yet be compromises." 
 
 She suffered her hand to remain in his, but the bitter- 
 ness did not pass out of her face or tone. 
 
 "Compromises!" she repeated. "Do you believe, 
 then, that we are like those ancient races who felt the 
 presence of a conqueror because their hosts were scat- 
 tered in battle, and who suffered themselves passively to 
 be led into captivity? My country can be conquered in 
 one way, and one way only, not until her sons, ay, 
 and her daughters too, have perished, can these people 
 rule. They will come to an empty and a stricken country
 
 II 
 
 a country red with blood, desolate, with blackened 
 houses and empty cities. The horror of it ! Think, my 
 friend David, the horror of it ! " 
 
 Bellamy threw his head back with a sudden gesture of 
 impatience. 
 
 " You take too much for granted," he declared. " Eng- 
 land, at any rate, is not yet a conquered race. And there 
 is France Italy, too, if she is wise, will never suffer this 
 thing from her ancient enemy." 
 
 "It is the might of the world which threatens," she 
 murmured. "Your country may defend herself, but 
 here she is powerless. Already it has been proved. Last 
 year you declared yourself our friend you and even 
 Russia. Of what avail was it? Word came from Berlin 
 and you were powerless." 
 
 Then tragedy broke into the room, tragedy in the shape 
 of a man demented. For fifteen years Bellamy had known 
 Arthur Dorward, but this man was surely a stranger ! He 
 was hatless, dishevelled, wild. A dull streak of color had 
 mounted almost to his forehead, his eyes were on fire. 
 
 "Bellamy!" he cried. "Bellamy!" 
 
 Words failed him suddenly. He leaned against the 
 table, breathless, panting heavily. 
 
 " For God's sake, man," Bellamy began, 
 
 "Alone!" Dorward interrupted. "I must see you 
 alone ! I have news !" 
 
 Mademoiselle Idiale rose. She touched Bellamy on 
 the shoulder. 
 
 "You will come to me, or telephone," she whispered. 
 "So?" 
 
 Bellamy opened the door and she passed out, with a 
 farewell pressure of his fingers. Then he closed it firmly 
 and came back.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 ARTHUR DORWARD'S " SCOOP " 
 
 *' WHAT'S wrong, old man?" Bellamy asked quickly. 
 
 Dorward from a side table had seized the bottle of 
 whiskey and a siphon, and was mixing himself a drink 
 with trembling fingers. He tossed it off before he spoke 
 a word. Then he turned around and faced his companion. 
 
 "Bellamy," he ordered, "lock the door." 
 
 Bellamy obeyed. He had no doubt now but that Dor- 
 ward had lost his head in the Chancellor's presence 
 had made some absurd attempt to gain the knowledge 
 which they both craved, and had failed. 
 
 "Bellamy," Dorward exclaimed, speaking hoarsely 
 and still a little out of breath, "I guess I've had the 
 biggest slice of luck that was ever dealt out to a human 
 being. If only I can get safe out of this city, I tell 
 you I've got the greatest scoop that living man ever 
 handled." 
 
 " You don't mean that " 
 
 Dorward wiped his forehead and interrupted. 
 
 "It's the most amazing thing that ever happened," he 
 declared, "but I've got it here in my pocket, got it in 
 black and white, in the Chancellor's own handwriting." 
 
 "Got what?" 
 
 " Why, what you and I, an hour ago, would have given 
 & million for," Dorward replied. 
 
 Bellamy's expression was one of blank but wondering 
 incredulity.
 
 ARTHUR DORWARD'S "SCOOP" 13 
 
 "You can't mean this, Dorward!" he exclaimed. 
 " You may have something just what the Chancellor 
 wants you to print. You're not supposing for an instant 
 that you've got the whole truth?" 
 
 Dorward's smile was the smile of certainty, his face that 
 of a conqueror. 
 
 "Here in my pocket," he declared, striking his chest, 
 "in the Chancellor's own handwriting. I tell you I've 
 got the original verbatim copy of everything that passed 
 and was resolved upon this afternoon between the Czar 
 of Russia, the Emperor of Austria and the Emperor of 
 Germany. I've got it word for word as the Chancellor 
 took it down. I've got their decision. I've got their 
 several undertakings." 
 
 Bellamy for a moment was stricken dumb. He looked 
 toward the door and back into his friend's face aglow with 
 triumph. Then his power of speech returned. 
 
 "Do you mean to say that you stole it?" 
 
 Dorward struck the table with his fist. 
 
 " Not I ! I tell you that the Chancellor gave it to me, 
 gave it to me with his own hands, willingly, pressed 
 it upon me. No, don't scoff!" he went on quickly. 
 "Listen! This is a genuine thing. The Chancellor's 
 mad. He was lying in a fit when I left the Palace. It will 
 be in all the evening papers. You will hear the boys 
 shouting it in the streets within a few minutes. Don't 
 interrupt and I'll tell you the whole truth. You can be- 
 lieve me or not, as you like. It makes no odds. I arrived 
 punctually and was shown up into the anteroom. Even 
 from there I could hear loud voices in the inner chamber 
 and I knew that something was up. Presently a little 
 fellow came out to me a dark-bearded chap with gold- 
 rimmed glasses. He was very polite, introduced himself
 
 i 4 HAVOC 
 
 as the Chancellor's physician, regretted exceedingly that 
 the Chancellor was unwell and could see no one, the 
 excitement and hard work of the last few days had knocked 
 him out. Well, I stood there arguing as pleasantly as I 
 could about it, and then all of a sudden the door of the 
 inner room was thrown open. The Chancellor himself 
 stood on the threshold. There was no doubt about his 
 being ill ; his face was as pale as parchment, his eyes were 
 simply wild, and his hair was all ruffled as though he had 
 been standing upon his head. He began to talk to the 
 physician in German. I did n't understand him until 
 he began to swear, then it was wonderful ! In the end 
 he brushed them all away and, taking me by the arm, led 
 me right into the inner room. For a long time he went 
 on jabbering away half to himself, and I was wondering 
 how on earth to bring the conversation round to the 
 things I wanted to know about. Then, all of a sudden, he 
 turned to me and seemed to remember who I was and 
 what I wanted. 'Ah!' he said, 'you are Dorward, the 
 American journalist. I remember you now. Lock the 
 door.' I obeyed him pretty quick, for I had noticed they 
 were mighty uneasy outside, and I was afraid they'd be 
 disturbing us every moment. 'Come and sit down,' he 
 ordered. I did so at once. 'You're a sensible fellow,' 
 he declared. 'To-day every one is worrying me. They 
 think that I am not well. It is foolish. I am quite well. 
 Who would not be well on such a day as this?' I told 
 him that I had never seen him looking better in my life, 
 and he nodded and seemed pleased. 'You have come to 
 hear the truth about the meeting of my master with the 
 Czar and the Emperor of Germany ?' he asked. 'That's 
 so,' I told hun. 'America's more than a little interested 
 in these things, and I want to know what to tell her.'
 
 ARTHUR DORWARD'S ''SCOOP" 15 
 
 Then he leaned across the table. 'My young friend,' he 
 said, 'I like you. You are straightforward. You speak 
 plainly and you do not worry me. It is good. You shall 
 tell your country what it is that we have planned, what 
 the things are that are coming. Yours is a great and wise 
 country. When they know the truth, they will remember 
 that Europe is a long way off and that the things which 
 happen there are really no concern of theirs.' 'You are 
 right,' I assured him, 'dead right. Treat us openly, 
 that 's all we ask.' ' Shall I not do that, my young friend ? ' 
 he answered. 'Now look, I give you this.' He fumbled 
 through all his pockets and at last he drew out a long en- 
 velope, sealed at both ends with black sealing wax on 
 which was printed a coat of arms with two tigers facing 
 each other. He looked toward the door cautiously, and 
 there was just that gleam in his eyes which madmen 
 always have. 'Here it is,' he whispered, 'written with 
 my own hand. This will tell you exactly what passed this 
 afternoon. It will tell you our plans. It will tell you of 
 the share which my master and the other two are taking. 
 Button it up safely,' he said, 'and, whatever you do, do 
 not let them know outside that you have got it. Between 
 you and me,' he went on, leaning across the table, ' some- 
 thing seems to have happened to them all to-day. There's 
 my old doctor there. He is worrying all the time, but he 
 himself is not well. I can see it whenever he comes near 
 me.' I nodded as though I understood and the Chan- 
 cellor tapped his forehead and grinned. Then I got up 
 as casually as I could, for I was terribly afraid that he 
 would n't let me go. We shook hands, and I tell you his 
 fingers were like pieces of burning coal. Just as I was 
 moving, some one knocked at the door. Then he began 
 to storm again, kicked his chair over, threw a par-e--
 
 16 HAVOC 
 
 weight at the window, and talked such nonsense that I 
 could n't follow him. I unlocked the door myself and 
 found the doctor there. I contrived to look as frightened 
 as possible. 'His Highness is not well enough to talk to 
 me,' I whispered. 'You had better look after him.' I 
 heard a shout behind and a heavy fall. Then I closed the 
 door and slipped away as quietly as I could and here 
 I am." 
 
 Bellamy drew a long breath. 
 
 "My God, but this is wonderful!" he muttered. 
 "How long is it since you left the Palace?" 
 
 "About ten minutes or a quarter of an hour," Dorward 
 answered. 
 
 "They'll find it out at once," declared the other. 
 "They'll miss the paper. Perhaps he'll tell them him- 
 self that he has given it to you. Don't let us run any 
 risks, Dorward. Tear it open. Let us know the truth, 
 at any rate. If you have to part with the document, we 
 can remember its contents. Out with it, man, quick ! 
 They may be here at any moment." 
 
 Dorward drew a few steps back. Then he shook his 
 head. 
 
 "I guess not," he said firmly. 
 
 Bellamy regarded his friend in blank and uncompre- 
 hending amazement. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "You're not 
 going to keep it to yourself ? You know what it means to 
 me to England?" 
 
 "Your old country can look after herself pretty well," 
 Dorward declared. "Anyhow, she'll have to take her 
 chance. I am not here as a philanthropist. I am an 
 American journalist, and I'll part to nobody with the 
 biggest thing that's ever come into any man's hands."
 
 ARTHUR DORWARD'S "SCOOP" 17 
 
 Bellamy, with a tremendous effort, maintained his 
 self-control. 
 
 "What are you going to do with it?" he asked quickly. 
 
 "I tell you I'm off out of the country to-night," Dor- 
 ward declared. "I shall head for England. Pearce is 
 there himself, and I tell you it will be just the greatest day 
 of my life when I put this packet in his hand. We'll 
 make New York hum, I can promise you, and Europe 
 too." 
 
 Bellamy's manner was perfectly quiet too quiet to 
 be altogether natural. His hand was straying towards 
 his pocket. 
 
 "Dorward," he said, speaking rapidly, and keeping 
 his back to the door, "you don't realize what you're up 
 against. This sort of thing is new to you. You have n't 
 a dog's chance of leaving Vienna alive with that in your 
 pocket. If you trust yourself in the Orient Express to- 
 night, you'll never be allowed to cross the frontier. By 
 this time they know that the packet is missing; they 
 know, too, that you are the only man who could have it, 
 whether the Chancellor has told them the truth or not. 
 Open it at once so that we get some good out of it. Then 
 we'll go round to the Embassy. We can slip out by 
 the back way, perhaps. Remember I have spent my 
 life in the service, and I tell you that there's no other 
 place in the city where your life is worth a snap of the 
 fingers but at your Embassy or mine. Open the packet, 
 man." 
 
 "I think not," Dorward answered firmly. "I am an 
 American citizen. I have broken no laws and done no 
 one any harm. If there's any slaughtering about, I guess 
 they'll hesitate before they begin with Arthur Dorward. 
 . . . Don't be a fool, man!"
 
 i8 HAVOC 
 
 He took a quick step backward, he was looking into 
 the muzzle of Bellamy's revolver. 
 
 "Dorward," the latter exclaimed, "I can't help it! 
 Yours is only a personal ambition I stand for my coun- 
 try. Share the knowledge of that packet with me or I 
 shall shoot." 
 
 " Then shoot and be d d to you ! " Dorward de- 
 clared fiercely. "This is my show, not yours. You and 
 your country can go to " 
 
 He broke off without finishing his sentence. There was 
 a thunderous knocking at the door. The two men looked 
 at one another for a moment, speechless. Then Bellamy, 
 with a smothered oath, replaced the revolver in his pocket. 
 
 "You've thrown away our chance," he said bitterly. 
 
 The knocking was repeated. When Bellamy with a 
 shrug of the shoulders answered the summons, three men 
 in plain clothes entered. They saluted Bellamy, but their 
 eyes were traveling around the room. 
 
 "We are seeking Herr Dorward, the American jour- 
 nalist!" one exclaimed. "He was here but a moment 
 ago." 
 
 Bellamy pointed to the inner door. He had had too 
 much experience in such matters to attempt any pre- 
 varication. The three men crossed the room quickly 
 and Bellamy followed in the rear. He heard a cry of dis- 
 appointment from the foremost as he opened the door. 
 The inner room was empty !
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 " OTJES IS A STRANGE COURTSHIP M 
 
 LOUISE looked up eagerly as he entered. 
 
 "There is news!" she exclaimed. "I can see it in 
 your face." 
 
 " Yes," Bellamy answered, " there is news ! That is 
 why I have come. Where can we talk ? " 
 
 She rose to her feet. Before them the open French 
 windows led on to a smooth green lawn. She took his 
 arm. 
 
 " Come outside with me," she said. " I am shut up 
 here because I will not see the doctors whom they send, 
 or any one from the Opera House. An envoy from the 
 Palace has been and I have sent him away." 
 
 "You mean to keep your word, then?" 
 
 " Have I ever broken it ? Never again will I sing in this 
 city. It is so." 
 
 Bellamy looked around. The garden of the villa was 
 enclosed by high gray stone walls. They were secure 
 here, at least, from eavesdroppers. She rested her fingers 
 lightly upon his arm, holding up the skirts of her loose 
 gown with her other hand. 
 
 "I have spoken to you," he said, "of Dorward, the 
 American journalist." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Of course," she assented. " You told me that the 
 Chancellor had promised him an interview for to-day."
 
 20 HAVOC 
 
 "Well, he went to the Palace and the Chancellor saw 
 him." 
 
 She looked at him with upraised eyebrows. 
 
 "The newspapers are full of lies as usual, then, I sup- 
 pose. The latest telegrams say that the Chancellor is 
 dangerously ill." 
 
 "It is quite true," Bellamy declared. "What I am 
 going to tell you is surprising, but I had it from Dorward 
 himself. When he reached the Palace, the Chancellor 
 was practically insane. His doctors were trying to per- 
 suade him to go to his room and lie down, but he heard 
 Dorward's voice and insisted upon seeing him. The 
 man was mad on the verge of a collapse and he 
 handed over to Dorward his notes, and a verbatim re- 
 port of all that passed at the Palace this morning." 
 
 She looked at him incredulously. 
 
 "My dear David !" she exclaimed. 
 
 "It is amazing," he admitted, "but it is the truth. I 
 know it for a fact. The man was absolutely beside him- 
 self, he had no idea what he was doing." 
 
 " Where is it ? " she asked quickly. " You have seen it ? " 
 
 "Dorward would not give it up," he said bitterly. 
 "While we argued in our sitting-room at the hotel the 
 police arrived. Dorward escaped through the bedroom 
 and down the service stairs. He spoke of trying to catch 
 the Orient Express to-night, but I doubt if they will ever 
 let him leave the city." 
 
 "It is wonderful, this," she murmured softly. "What 
 are you going to do?" 
 
 "Louise, you and I have few secrets from each other. 
 I would have killed Dorward to obtain that sealed en- 
 velope, because I believe that the knowledge of its contents 
 in London to-day would save us from disaster. To know
 
 "A STRANGE COURTSHIP" 21 
 
 how far each is pledged, and from which direction the 
 first blow is to come, would be our salvation." 
 
 " I cannot understand," she said, " why he should 
 have refused to share his knowledge with you. He is an 
 American it is almost the same thing as being an Eng- 
 lishman. And you are friends, I am sure that you 
 have helped him often." 
 
 " It was a matter of vanity simply cursed vanity," 
 Bellamy answered. "It would have been the greatest 
 journalistic success of modern times for him to have 
 printed that document, word for word, in his paper. He 
 fights for his own hand alone." 
 
 "And you?" she whispered. 
 
 "He will have to reckon with me," Bellamy declared. 
 "I know that he is going to try and leave Vienna to- 
 night, and if he does I shall be at his heels." 
 
 She nodded her head thoughtfully. 
 
 "I, too," she announced. "I come with you, my 
 friend. I do no more good here, and they worry my life 
 out all the time. I come to sing in London at Covent 
 Garden. I have agreements there which only await my 
 signature. We will go together; is it not so?" 
 
 "Very well," he answered, "only remember that my 
 movements must depend very largely upon Dorward's. 
 The train leaves at eight o'clock, station time. I have 
 already a coupe reserved." 
 
 "I come with you," she murmured. "I am very weary 
 of this city." 
 
 They walked on for a few paces in silence. Bellamy 
 looked around the gardens, brilliant with flowering 
 shrubs and rose trees, with here and there some delicate 
 piece of statuary half-hidden amongst the wealth of 
 foliage. The villa had once belonged to a royal favorite,
 
 22 HAVOC 
 
 and the grounds had been its chief glory. They reached 
 a sheltered seat and sat down. A few yards away a tiny 
 waterfall came tumbling over the rocks into a deep pool. 
 They were hidden from the windows of the villa by the 
 boughs of a drooping chestnut tree. Bellamy stooped 
 and kissed her upon the lips. 
 
 "Ours is a strange courtship, Louise," he whispered 
 softly. 
 
 She took his hand in hers and smoothed it. She had 
 returned his kiss, but she drew a little further away 
 from him. 
 
 "Ah! my dear friend," looking at him with sorrow in 
 her eyes, " courtship is scarcely the word, is it ? For you 
 and me there is nothing to hope for, nothing beyond." 
 
 He leaned towards her. 
 
 "Never believe that," he begged. "These days are 
 dark enough, Heaven knows, yet the work of every one 
 has its goal. Even our turn may come." 
 
 Something flickered for a moment in her face, some- 
 thing which seemed to make a different woman of her. 
 Bellamy saw it, and hardened though he was he felt the 
 slow stirring of his own pulses. He kissed her hand pas- 
 sionately and she shivered. 
 
 "We must not talk of these things," she said. "We 
 must not think of them. At least our friendship has been 
 wonderful. Now I must go in. I must tell my maid and 
 arrange to steal away to-night." 
 
 They stood up, and he held her in his arms for a mo- 
 ment. Though her lips met his freely enough, he was 
 very conscious of the reserve with which she yielded her- 
 self to him, conscious of it and thankful, too. They 
 walked up the path together, and as they went she plucked 
 a red rose and thrust it through his buttonhole.
 
 "A STRANGE COURTSHIP" 23 
 
 "If we had no dreams," she said softly, "life would 
 not be possible. Perhaps some day even we may pluck 
 roses together." 
 
 He raised her fingers to his lips. It was not often that 
 they lapsed into sentiment. When she spoke again it was 
 finished. 
 
 " You had better leave," she told him, " by the garden 
 gate. There are the usual crowd in my anteroom, and 
 it is well that you and I are not seen too much together." 
 
 "Till this evening," he whispered, as he turned away. 
 " I shall be at the station early. If Dorward is taken, I 
 shall still leave Vienna. If he goes, it may be an eventful 
 journey."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE NIGHT TRAIN FROM VIENNA 
 
 DORWARD, whistling softly to himself, sat in a corner of 
 his coupe rolling innumerable cigarettes. He was a man 
 of unbounded courage and wonderful resource, but with 
 a slightly exaggerated idea as to the sanctity of an Ameri- 
 can citizen. He had served his apprenticeship in his own 
 country, and his name had become a household word 
 owing to his brilliant success as war correspondent in the 
 Russo-Japanese War. His experience of European coun- 
 tries, however, was limited. After the more obvious 
 dangers with which he had grappled and which he had 
 overcome during his adventurous career, he was disposed 
 to be a little contemptuous of the subtler perils at which 
 his friend Bellamy had plainly hinted. He had made his 
 escape from the hotel without any very serious difficulty, 
 and since that time, although he had taken no particular 
 precautions, he had remained unmolested. From his 
 own point of view, therefore, it was perhaps only reason- 
 able that he should no longer have any misgiving as 
 to his personal safety. Arrest as a thief was the worst 
 which he had feared. Even that he seemed now to have 
 evaded. 
 
 The coupe was exceedingly comfortable and, after all, 
 he had had a somewhat exciting day. He lit a cigarette 
 and stretched himself out with a murmur of immense 
 satisfaction. He was close upon the great triumph of his
 
 NIGHT TRAIN FROM VIENNA 25 
 
 life. He was perfectly content to lie there and look out 
 upon the flying landscape, upon which the shadows were 
 now fast descending. He was safe, absolutely safe, he 
 assured himself. Nevertheless, when the door of his 
 coupe was opened, he started almost like a guilty man. 
 The relief in his face as he recognized his visitor was 
 obvious. It was Bellamy who entered and dropped into 
 a seat by his side. 
 
 "Wasting your time, aren't you?" the latter re- 
 marked, pointing to the growing heap of cigarettes. 
 
 "Well, I guess not," Dorward answered. " I can smoke 
 this lot before we reach London." 
 
 Bellamy smiled enigmatically. 
 
 " I don't think that you will," he said. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "You are such a sanguine person," Bellamy sighed. 
 "Personally, I do not think that there is the slightest 
 chance of your reaching London at all." 
 
 Dorward laughed scornfully. 
 
 "And why not?" he asked. 
 
 Bellamy merely shrugged his shoulders. Dorward 
 seemed to find the gesture irritating. 
 
 "You've got espionage on the brain, my dear friend," 
 he declared' dryly. "I suppose it's the result of your 
 profession. I may not know so much about Europe as 
 you do, but I am inclined to think that an American 
 citizen traveling with his passport on a train like this is 
 moderately safe, especially when he's not above a scrap 
 by way of taking care of himself." 
 
 "You're a plucky fellow," remarked Bellamy. 
 
 "I don't see any pluck about it. In Vienna, I must 
 admit, I should n't have been surprised if they'd tried to 
 fake up some sort of charge against me, but anyhow they
 
 26 HAVOC 
 
 did n't. Guess they'd find it a pretty tall order trying to 
 interfere with an American citizen." 
 
 Bellamy looked at his friend curiously. 
 
 "I suppose you're not bluffing, by any chance, 
 Dorward?" he said. "You really believe what you 
 say?" 
 
 "Why in thunder should n't I?" Dorward asked. 
 
 Bellamy sighed. 
 
 " My dear Dorward," he said, " it is amazing to me that 
 a man of your experience should talk and behave like a 
 baby. You 've taken some notice of your fellow-passengers, 
 I suppose?" 
 
 "I've seen a few of them," Dorward answered care- 
 lessly. " What about them ? " 
 
 " Nothing much," Bellamy declared, " except that there 
 are, to my certain knowledge, three high officials of the 
 Secret Police of Austria in the next coupe but one, and at 
 least four or five of their subordinates somewhere on 
 board the train." 
 
 Dorward withdrew his cigarette from his mouth and 
 looked at his friend keenly. 
 
 "I guess you're trying to scare me, Bellamy," he 
 remarked. 
 
 But Bellamy was suddenly grave. There had come into 
 his face an utterly altered expression. His tone, when he 
 spoke, was almost solemn. 
 
 "Dorward," he said, "upon my honor, I assure you 
 that what I have told you is the truth. I cannot seem to 
 make you realize the seriousness of your position. When 
 you left the Palace with that paper in your pocket, you 
 were, to all intents and purposes, a doomed man. Your 
 passport and your American citizenship count for abso- 
 lutely nothing. I have come in to warn you that if you
 
 NIGHT TRAIN FROM VIENNA 27 
 
 have any last messages to leave, you had better give them 
 to me now." 
 
 "This is a pretty good bluff you're putting up !" Dor- 
 ward exclaimed contemptuously. "The long and short 
 of it is, I suppose, that you want me to break the seal of 
 this document and let you read it." 
 
 Bellamy shook his head. 
 
 "It is too late for that, Dorward," he said. "If the 
 seal were broken, they'd very soon guess where I came in, 
 and it would n't help the work I have in hand for me to 
 be picked up with a bullet in my forehead on the railway 
 track." 
 
 Dorward frowned uneasily. 
 
 "What are you here for, anyway, then?" he asked. 
 
 "Well, frankly, not to argue with you," Bellamy an- 
 swered. "As a matter of fact, you are of no use to me any 
 longer. I am sorry, old man. You can't say that I did n't 
 give you good advice. I am bound to play for my own 
 hand, though, in this matter, and if I get any benefit at 
 all out of my journey, it will be after some regrettable 
 accident has happened to you." 
 
 "Say, ring the bell for drinks and chuck this!" Dor- 
 ward exclaimed. "I've had about enough of it. I am 
 not denying anything you say, but if these fellows really 
 are on board, they'll think twice before they meddle 
 with me." 
 
 "On the contrary," Bellamy assured him, "they will 
 not take the trouble to think at all. Their minds are 
 perfectly made up as to what they are going to do. How- 
 ever, that's finished. I have nothing more to say." 
 
 Dorward gazed for a minute or two fixedly out of the 
 window. 
 
 "Look here, Bellamy," he said, turning abruptly round,
 
 28 HAVOC 
 
 "supposing I change my mind, supposing I open this 
 precious document and let you read it over with me?" 
 
 Bellamy rose hastily to his feet. 
 
 "You must not think of it!'* he exclaimed. "You 
 would simply write my death-warrant. Don't allude to 
 that matter again. I have risked enough in coming in 
 here to sit with you." 
 
 "Then, for Heaven's sake, don't stop any longer!" 
 Dorward said irritably. "You get on my nerves with all 
 this foolish talk. In an hour's time I am going to bolt 
 my door and go to sleep. We'll breakfast together in the 
 morning, if you like." 
 
 Bellamy said nothing. The steward had brought them 
 the whiskies and sodas which Dorward had ordered. Bel- 
 lamy raised his tumbler to his lips and set it down again. 
 
 "Forgive me," he said, "I do not think that I am 
 thirsty." 
 
 Dorward drank his off at a gulp. Almost immediately 
 he closed his eyes. Bellamy, with a little shrug of the 
 shoulders, left him alone. As he passed along to his own 
 coupe, he met Louise in the corridor. 
 
 "You have seen Von Behrling?" he whispered. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "He is in that coupe, number 7, alone," she said. "I 
 invited him to come in with me but he seemed embar- 
 rassed. It is his companions who watch him all the time. 
 He has promised to talk with me later." 
 
 In the middle of the night, Louise opened her eyes to 
 find Bellamy bending over her. 
 
 "Louise," he whispered, "it is Von Behrling who will 
 take possession of the packet. They have been discussing 
 whether it will not be safer to go on to London instead 
 of doubling back. See Von Behrling again. Do all you
 
 NIGHT TRAIN FROM VIENNA 29 
 
 can to persuade him to come to London, all you can, 
 Louise, remember." 
 
 "So!" she whispered. "I shall put on my dressing- 
 gown and sit in the corridor. It is hot here." 
 
 Bellamy glided out, closing the door softly behind him. 
 The train was rushing on now through the blackness of 
 an unusually dark night. For some time he sat in his own 
 compartment, listening. The voices whose muttered con- 
 versation he had overheard were silent now, but once 
 he fancied that he heard shuffling footsteps and a little 
 cry. In his heart he knew well that before morning Dor- 
 ward would have disappeared. The man within him was 
 hard to subdue. He longed to make his way to Dorward's 
 side, to interfere in this terribly unequal struggle, yet he 
 made no movement. Dorward was a man and a friend, 
 but what was a life more or less ? It was to a greater 
 cause that he was pledged. Towards three o'clock he lay 
 down on his bed and slept. . . . 
 
 The train attendant brought him his coffee soon after 
 daylight. The man's hands were trembling. 
 
 "Where are we?" Bellamy asked sleepily. 
 
 "Near Munich, Monsieur," the man answered. "Mon- 
 sieur noticed, perhaps, that we stopped for some time in 
 the night?" 
 
 Bellamy shook his head. 
 
 " I sleep soundly," he said. " I heard nothing." 
 
 "There has been an accident," the man declared. 
 "An American gentleman who got in at Vienna was 
 drinking whiskey all night and became very drunk. In 
 a tunnel he threw himself out upon the line." 
 
 Bellamy shuddered a little. He had been prepared, 
 but none the less it was an awful thing, this. 
 
 "You are sure that he is dead?" he asked.
 
 30 HAVOC 
 
 The man was very sure indeed. 
 
 "There is a doctor from Vienna upon the train, sir," 
 he said. "He examined him at once, but death must 
 have been instantaneous." 
 
 Bellamy drew a long breath and commenced to put 
 on his clothes. The next move was for him.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 " VON BEHRLING HAS THE PACKET " 
 
 BELLAMY stole along the half-lit corridors of the train 
 until he came to the coupe which had been reserved for 
 Mademoiselle Idiale. Assured that he was not watched, 
 he softly turned the handle of the door and entered. Louise 
 was sitting up in her dressing-gown, drinking her coffee. 
 He held up his finger and she greeted him only with a 
 nod. 
 
 "Forgive me, Louise," he whispered, "I dared not 
 knock, and I was obliged to see you at once." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "It is of no consequence," she said. "One is always 
 prepared here. The porter, the ticket-man, and at the 
 customs they all enter. Is anything wrong?" 
 
 " It has happened," he answered. 
 
 She shivered a little and her face became grave. 
 
 "Poor fellow!" she murmured. 
 
 "He simply sat still and asked for it," Bellamy de- 
 clared, still speaking in a cautious undertone. " He would 
 not be warned. I could have saved him, if any one could, 
 but he would not hear reason." 
 
 "He was what you call pig-headed," she remarked. 
 
 " He has paid the penalty," Bellamy continued. " Now 
 listen to me, Louise. I got into that small coupe next 
 to Von Behrling's, and I feel sure, from what I overheard, 
 that they will go on to London, all three of them." 
 
 "Who is there on the train?" she demanded.
 
 32 HAVOC 
 
 "Baron Streuss, who is head of the Secret Police, Von 
 Behrling and Adolf Kahn," Bellamy answered. "Then 
 there are four or five Secret Service men of the rank and 
 file, but they are all traveling separately. Von Behrling 
 has the packet. The others form a sort of cordon around 
 him." 
 
 "But why," she asked, "does he go on to London? 
 Why not return to Vienna?" 
 
 "For one thing," Bellamy replied, with a grim smile, 
 "they are afraid of me. Then you must remember that 
 this affair of Dorward will be talked about. They do not 
 want to seem in any way implicated. To return from 
 any one of these stations down the line would create 
 suspicion." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I am going to leave the train at the next stop," he 
 continued. "I find that I shall just catch the Northern 
 Express to Berlin. From there I shall come on to London 
 as quickly as I can. You know the address of my rooms ? " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " 15, Fitzroy Street." 
 
 " When I get there, let me have a line waiting to tell me 
 where I can see you. While I am on the train you will 
 find Von Behrling almost inaccessible. Directly I have 
 gone it will be different. Play with him carefully. He 
 should not be difficult. To tell you the truth, I am rather 
 surprised that he has been trusted upon a mission like 
 this. He was in disgrace with the Chancellor a short 
 while ago, and I know that he was hurt at not being al- 
 lowed to attend the conference. The others will watch 
 him closely, but they cannot overhear everything that 
 passes between you two. Von Behrling is a poor
 
 "VON BEHRLING HAS PACKET' 33 
 
 man. You will know how to make him wish he were 
 rich." 
 
 Very slowly her eyebrows rose up. She looked at him 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "It is a slender chance, David," she remarked. "Von 
 Behrling is a little wild, I know, and he pretends to be 
 very much in love with me, but I do not think that he 
 would sell his country. Then, too, see how he will be 
 watched. I do not suppose that they will leave us alone 
 for a moment." 
 
 Bellamy took her hands in his, gripping them with 
 almost unnatural force. 
 
 "Louise," he declared earnestly, "you don't quite 
 realize Von Behrling's special weakness and your extraor- 
 dinary strength. You know that you are beautiful, I 
 suppose, but you do not quite know what that means. I 
 have heard men talk about you till one would think that 
 they were children. You 'have something of that art or 
 guile call it what you will which passes from you 
 through a man's blood to his brain, and carries him 
 indeed to Heaven but carries him there mad. Louise, 
 don't be angry with me for what I say. Remember that 
 I know my sex. I know you, too, and I trust you, but 
 you can turn Von Behrling from a sane, honorable man 
 into what you will, without suffering even his lips to 
 touch your fingers. Von Behrling has that packet in his 
 possession. When I come to see you in London. I will 
 bring you twenty thousand pounds in Bank of England 
 notes. With that Von Behrling might fancy himself on 
 his way to America with you." 
 
 She closed her eyes for a moment. Perhaps she wished 
 to keep hidden from him the thoughts which chased one 
 another through her brain. He wished to make use of
 
 34 HAVOC 
 
 her of her, the woman whom he loved. Then she 
 remembered that it was for her country and his, and the 
 anger passed. 
 
 "But I am afraid," she said softly, "that the moment 
 they reach London this document will be taken to the 
 Austrian Embassy." 
 
 "Before then," Bellamy declared, "Von Behrling must 
 not know whether he is in heaven or upon earth. It will 
 not be opened in London. He can make up another 
 packet to resemble precisely the one of which he robbed 
 Dorward. Oh ! it is a difficult game, I know, but it is 
 worth playing. Remember, Louise, that we are not 
 petty conspirators. It is your country's very existence 
 that is threatened. It is for her sake as well as for 
 England." 
 
 "I shall do my best," she murmured, looking into his 
 face. " Oh, you may be sure that I shall do my best !" 
 
 Bellamy raised her fingers to his lips and stole away. 
 The electric lamps had been turned out, but the morning 
 was cloudy and the light dim. Back in his own berth, 
 he put his things together, ready to leave at Munich. Then 
 he rang for the porter. 
 
 " I am getting out at the next stop," he announced. 
 
 "Very good, Monsieur," the man answered. 
 
 Bellamy looked at him closely. 
 
 "You are a Frenchman?" 
 
 "It is so, Monsieur!" 
 
 "I may be wrong," Bellamy continued slowly, "but I 
 believe that if I asked you a question and it concerned 
 some Germans and Austrians you would tell me the 
 truth." 
 
 The man's gesture was inimitable. Englishmen to him 
 were obviously the salt of the earth. Germans and Aus-
 
 'VON BEHRLING HAS PACKET' 35 
 
 trians why, they existed as the cattle in the fields 
 nothing more. Bellamy gave him a sovereign. 
 
 "There were three Austrians who got in at Vienna," 
 he said. " They are in numbers ten and eleven." 
 
 "But yes, Monsieur!" the man assented. "As yet I 
 think they are fast asleep. Not one of them has rung for 
 his coffee." 
 
 "Where are they booked for?" 
 
 "For London, Monsieur." 
 
 "You do not happen," Bellamy continued, "to have 
 heard them say anything about leaving the train before 
 then?" 
 
 "On the contrary, sir," the porter answered, "two of 
 the gentlemen have been inquiring about the boat across 
 to Dover. They were very anxious to travel by a turbine." 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "Thank you very much. You will be so discreet as 
 to forget that I have asked you any questions concerning 
 them. As for me, if one would know, I am on my way 
 to Berlin." 
 
 The bell rang. The man looked outside and put his 
 head once more in Bellamy's coupe. 
 
 " It is one of the gentleman who has rung," he declared. 
 " If anything is said about leaving the train, I shall report 
 it at once to Monsieur." 
 
 "You will do well," Bellamy answered. 
 
 The porter returned in a few moments. 
 
 "Two of the gentlemen, sir," he announced, "are un- 
 dressed and in their pyjamas. They have ordered their 
 breakfast to be served after we leave Munich." 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "Further, sir," the man continued, coming a little 
 closer, " one of them asked me whether the English gentle-
 
 36 HAVOC 
 
 man meaning you was going through to Londoa 
 or not. I told them that you were getting out at the next 
 station and that I thought you were going to Berlin." 
 
 "Quite right," Bellamy said. "If they ask any more 
 questions, let me know." 
 
 Mademoiselle Idiale, with the aid of one of the two 
 maids who were traveling with her, was able to make a 
 sufficiently effective toilette. At a few minutes before the 
 time for luncheon, she walked down the corridor and 
 recognized Von Behrling, who was sitting with his com- 
 panions in one of the compartments. 
 
 "Ah, it is indeed you, then!" she exclaimed, smiling 
 at him. 
 
 He rose to his feet and came out. Tall, with a fair 
 moustache and blue eyes, he was often taken for an Eng- 
 lishman and was inclined to be proud of the fact. 
 
 "You have rested well, I trust, Mademoiselle?" he 
 asked, bowing low over her fingers. 
 
 "Excellently," replied Louise. "Will you not take me 
 in to luncheon ? The car is full of men and I am not com- 
 fortable alone. It is not pleasant, either, to eat with one's 
 maids." 
 
 "I am honored," he declared. "Will you permit me 
 for one moment?" 
 
 He turned and spoke to his companions. Louise saw 
 at once that they were protesting vigorously. She saw, 
 too, that Von Behrling only became more obstinate and 
 that he was very nearly angry. She moved a few steps 
 on down the corridor, and stood looking out of the win- 
 dow. He joined her almost immediately. 
 
 "Come," he said, "they will be serving luncheon in 
 five minutes. We will go and take a good place."
 
 "VON BEHRLING HAS PACKET' 37 
 
 "Your friends, I am afraid," she remarked, "did not 
 like your leaving them. They are not very gallant." 
 
 "To me it is indifferent," he answered, fiercely twirling 
 his moustache. "Streuss there is an old fool. He has 
 always some fancy in his brain." 
 
 Louise raised her eyebrows slightly. 
 
 " You are your own master, I suppose," she said. " The 
 Baron is used to command his policemen, and sometimes 
 he forgets. There are many people who find him too 
 autocratic." 
 
 "He means well," Von Behrling asserted. "It is his 
 manner only which is against him." 
 
 They found a comfortable table, and she sat smiling 
 at him across the white cloth. 
 
 "If this is not Sachers," she said, "it is at least more 
 pleasant than lunching alone." 
 
 "I can assure you, Mademoiselle," he declared, with 
 a vigorous twirl of his moustache, " that I find it so." 
 
 "Always gallant," she murmured. "Tell me, is it 
 true of you the news which I heard just before I left 
 Vienna? Have you really resigned your post with the 
 Chancellor?" 
 
 "You heard that?" he asked slowly. 
 
 She hesitated for a moment. 
 
 "I heard something of the sort," she admitted. "To 
 be quite candid with you, I think it was reported that 
 the Chancellor was making a change on his own account." 
 
 "So that is what they say, is it? What do they know 
 about it these gossipers?" 
 
 "You were not allowed at the conference yesterday," 
 she remarked. 
 
 " No one was allowed there, so that goes for nothing." 
 
 " Ah ! well," she said, looking meditatively out upon
 
 3 8 HAVOC 
 
 the landscape, " a year ago the thought of that conference 
 would have driven me wild. I should not have been con- 
 tent until I had learned somehow or other what had 
 transpired. Lately, I am afraid, my interest in my coun- 
 try seems to have grown a trifle cold. Perhaps because 
 I have lived in Vienna I have learned to look at things 
 from your point of view. Then, too, the world is a selfish 
 place, and our own little careers are, after all, the most 
 important part of it." 
 
 Von Behrling eyed her curiously. 
 
 "It seems strange to hear you talk like this," he 
 remarked. 
 
 She looked out of the window for a moment. 
 
 " Oh ! I still love my country, in a way," she an- 
 swered, "and I still hate all Austrians, in a way, but it 
 is not as it used to be with me, I must admit. If we had 
 two lives, I would give one to my country and keep one 
 for myself. Since we have only one, I am afraid, after 
 all, that I am human, and I want to taste some of its 
 pleasures." 
 
 "Some of its pleasures," Von Behrling repeated, a 
 little gloomily. "Ah, that is easy enough for you, 
 Mademoiselle!" 
 
 "Not so easy as it may appear," she answered. "One 
 needs many things to get the best out of life. One needs 
 wealth and one needs love, and one needs them while one 
 is young, while one can enjoy." 
 
 " It is true," Von Behrling admitted, " quite true." 
 
 "If one is not careful," she continued, "one lets the 
 years slip by. They can never come again. If one does 
 not live while one is young, there is no other chance." 
 
 Von Behrling assented with renewed gloom. He was 
 twenty-five years old, and his income barely paid for his
 
 "VON BEHRLING HAS PACKET' 39 
 
 uniforms. Of late, this fact had materially interfered 
 with his enjoyments. 
 
 " It is strange," he said, " that you should talk like this. 
 You have the world at your feet, Mademoiselle. You 
 have only to throw the handkerchief." 
 
 Her lips parted in a dazzling smile. The bluest eyes 
 in the world grew softer as they looked into his. Von 
 Behrling felt his cheeks burn. 
 
 "My friend, it is not so easy," she murmured. "Tell 
 me," she continued, "why it is that you have so little 
 self-confidence. Is it because you are poor?" 
 
 " I am a beggar," bitterly. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "Well," she said, glancing down the menu which the 
 waiter had brought, "if you are poor and content to re- 
 main so, one must presume that you have compensations." 
 
 "But I have none!" he declared. "You should know 
 that you, Mademoiselle. Life for me means one thing 
 and one thing only ! " 
 
 She looked at him, for a moment, and down upon the 
 tablecloth. Von Behrling shook like a man in the throes 
 of some great passion. 
 
 "We talk too intimately," she whispered, as the people 
 began to file in to take their places. "After luncheon we 
 will take our coffee in my coupe. Then, if you like, we 
 will speak of these matters. I have a headache. Will 
 you order me some champagne? It is a terrible thing, I 
 know, to drink wine in the morning, but when one travels, 
 what can one do? Here come your bodyguard. They 
 look at me as though I had stolen you away. Re- 
 member we take our coffee together afterwards. I am 
 bored with so much traveling, and I look to you to amuse 
 me."
 
 40 HAVOC 
 
 Von Behrling's journey was, after all, marked with 
 sharp contrasts. The kindness of the woman whom he 
 adored was sufficient in itself to have transported him 
 into a seventh heaven. On the other hand, he had trouble 
 with his friends. Streuss drew him on one side at Ostend, 
 and talked to him plainly. 
 
 "Von Behrling," he said, "I speak to you on behalf of 
 Kahn and myself. Wine and women and pleasure are 
 good things. We two, we love them, perhaps, as you do, 
 but there is a place and a time for them, and it is not now. 
 Our mission is too serious." 
 
 "Well, well!" Von Behrling exclaimed impatiently, 
 " what is all this ? What do I do wrong ? What have you 
 to say against me? If I talk with Mademoiselle Idiale, 
 it is because it is the natural thing for me to do. Would 
 you have us three you and Kahn and myself travel 
 arm in arm and speak never a word to our fellow pas- 
 sengers? Would you have us proclaim to all the world 
 that we are on a secret mission, carrying a secret docu- 
 ment, to obtain which we have already committed a 
 crime? These are old-fashioned methods, Streuss. It 
 is better that we behave like ordinary mortals. You talk 
 foolishly, Streuss!" 
 
 "It is you," the older man declared, "who play the 
 fool, and we will not have it ! Mademoiselle Idiale is 
 a Servian and a patriot. She is the friend, too, of Bellamy, 
 the Englishman. She and he were together last night." 
 
 "Bellamy is not even on the train," Von Behrling pro- 
 tested. "He went north to Berlin. That itself is the 
 proof that they know nothing. If he had had the merest 
 suspicion, do you not think that he would have stayed 
 with us?" 
 
 "Bellamy is very clever," Streuss answered. "There
 
 'VON BEHRLING HAS PACKET' 41 
 
 are too many of us to deal with, he knew that. Made- 
 moiselle Idiale is clever, too. Remember that half the 
 trouble in life has come about through false women." 
 
 "What is it that you want?" Von Behrling demanded. 
 
 "That you travel the rest of the way with us, and speak 
 no more with Mademoiselle." 
 
 Von Behrling drew himself up. After all, it was he who 
 was noble; Streuss was little more than a policeman. 
 
 "I refuse!" he exclaimed. "Let me remind you, 
 Streuss, that I am in charge of this expedition. It was I 
 who planned it. It was I" he dropped his voice and 
 touched his chest " who struck the first blow for its 
 success. I think tftat we need talk no more," he went on. 
 "I welcome your companionship. It makes for strength 
 that we travel together. But for the rest, the enterprise 
 has been mine, the success so far has been mine, and the 
 termination of it shall be mine. Watch me, if you like. 
 Stay with me and see that I am not robbed, if you fear 
 that I am not able to take care of myself, but do not ask 
 me to behave like an idiot." 
 
 Von Behrling stepped away quickly. The siren was 
 already blowing from the steamer.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 VON BEHRLING IS TEMPTED 
 
 * 
 
 THE night was dark but fine, and the crossing smooth. 
 Louise, wrapped in furs, abandoned her private cabin 
 directly they had left the harbor, and had a chair placed 
 on the upper deck. Von Behrling found her there, but 
 not before they were nearly half-way across. She beck- 
 oned him to her side. Her eyes glowed at him through 
 the darkness. 
 
 "You are not looking after me, my friend," she de- 
 clared. "By myself I had to find this place." 
 
 Von Behrling was ruffled. He was also humbly 
 apologetic. 
 
 " It is those idiots who are with me," he said. " All the 
 time they worry." 
 
 She laughed and drew him down so that she could 
 whisper in his ear. 
 
 " I know what it is," she said. "You have secrets which 
 you are taking to London, and they are afraid of me be- 
 cause I am a Servian. Tell me, is it not so? Perhaps, 
 even, they think that I am a spy." 
 
 Von Behrling hesitated. She drew him closer towards 
 her. 
 
 "Sit down on the deck," she continued, "and lean 
 against the rail. You are too big to talk to up there. 
 So ! Now you can come underneath my rug. Tell me, 
 are they afraid of me, your friends?" 
 
 "Is it without reason?" he asked. "Would not f* -
 
 VON BEHRLING IS TEMPTED 43 
 
 one be afraid of you if, indeed, they believed that you 
 wished to know our secrets? I wonder if there is a man 
 alive whom you could not turn round your little finger." 
 
 She laughed at him softly. 
 
 "Ah, no!" she said. "Men are not like that, nowa- 
 days. They talk and they talk, but it is not much they 
 would do for a woman's sake." 
 
 "You believe that?" he asked, in a low tone. 
 
 " I do, indeed. One reads love-stories no, I do not 
 mean romances, but memoirs memoirs of the French 
 and Austrian Courts memoirs, even, written by Eng- 
 lishmen. Men were different a generation ago. Honor 
 was dear to them then, honor and position and wealth, 
 and yet there were many, very many then who were will- 
 ing to give all these things for the love of a woman." 
 
 " And do you think there are none now ?" he whispered 
 hoarsely 
 
 "My friend," she answered, looking down at him, "I 
 think that there are very few." 
 
 She heard his breath come fast between his teeth, and 
 she realized his state of excitement. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Louise," he said, "my love for you 
 has made me a laughing-stock in the clubs of Vienna. 
 I the poverty-stricken, who have nothing but a noble 
 name, nothing to offer you have dared to show others 
 what I think, have dared to place you in my heart above 
 all the women on earth." 
 
 "It is very nice of you," she murmured. "Why do 
 you tell me this now ? " 
 
 " Why, indeed ?" he answered. " What have I to hope 
 for?" 
 
 She looked along the deck. Not a dozen yards away, 
 two cigar ends burned red through the gloom. She knew
 
 44 HAVOC 
 
 very well that those cigar ends belonged to Streuss and 
 his friend. She laughed softly and once more she bent 
 her head. 
 
 " How they watch you, those men !" she said. " Listen, 
 my friend Rudolph. Supposing their fears were true, 
 supposing I were really a spy, supposing I offered you 
 wealth and with it whatever else you might claim from 
 me, for the secret which you carry to England !" 
 
 "How do you know that I am carrying a secret?" he 
 asked hoarsely. 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "My friend," she said, "with your two absurd com- 
 panions shadowing you all the time and glowering at me, 
 how could one possibly doubt it ? The Baron Streuss is, 
 I believe, the Chief of your Secret Service Department, 
 is he not? To me he seems the most obvious policeman 
 I ever saw dressed as a gentleman." 
 
 " You don't mean it ! " he muttered. " You can't 
 mean what you said just now !" 
 
 She was silent for a few moments. Some one passing 
 struck a match, and she caught a glimpse of the white 
 face of the man who sat by her side strained now and 
 curiously intense. 
 
 "Supposing I did!" 
 
 "You must be mad!" he declared. "You must not 
 talk to me like this, Mademoiselle. I have no secret. It 
 is your humor, I know, but it is dangerous." 
 
 "There is no danger," she murmured, "for we are 
 alone. I say again, Rudolph, supposing this were 
 true?" 
 
 His hand passed across his forehead. She fancied that 
 he made a motion as though to rise to his feet, but she 
 laid her hand upon his.
 
 VON BEHRLING IS TEMPTED 45 
 
 "Stay here," she whispered. "No, I do not wish to 
 drive you away. Now you are here you shall listen to 
 me." 
 
 "But you are not in earnest!" he faltered. "Don't 
 tell me that you are in earnest. It is treason. I am 
 Rudolph Von Behrling, Secretary to the Chancellor." 
 
 Again she leaned towards him so that he could see into 
 her eyes. 
 
 "Rudolph," she said, "you are indeed Rudolph Von 
 Behrling, you are indeed the Chancellor's secretary. 
 What do you gain from it ? A pittance ! Many hours 
 work a day and a pittance. What have you to look for- 
 ward to? A little official life, a stupid official position. 
 Rudolph, here am I, and there is the world. Do I not 
 represent other things?" 
 
 "God knows you do!" he muttered. 
 
 " I, too, am weary of singing. I want a long rest a 
 long rest and a better name than my own. Don't shrink 
 away from me. It is n't so wonderful, after all. Bellamy, 
 the Englishman, came to me a few hours ago. He was 
 Dorward's friend. He knew well what Dorward carried. 
 It was not his affair, he told me, and interposition from 
 him was hopeless, but he knew that you and I were 
 friends." 
 
 "You must stop!" Von Behrling declared. "You 
 must stop ! I must not listen to this !" 
 
 "He offered me twenty thousand pounds," she went 
 on, "for the packet in your pocket. Think of that, my 
 friend. It would be a start in life, would it not ? I am an 
 extravagant woman. Even if I would, I dared not think 
 of a poor man. But twenty thousand pounds is sufficient. 
 When I reach London, I am going to a flat which has 
 been waiting for me for weeks 15, Dover Street. If
 
 46 HAVOC 
 
 you bring that packet to me instead of taking it to the 
 Austrian Embassy, there will be twenty thousand pounds 
 and " 
 
 Her fingers suddenly held his. She could almost hear 
 his heart beating. Her eyes, by now accustomed to the 
 gloom, could see the tumult which was passing within 
 the man, reflected in his face. She whispered a warning 
 under her breath. The two cigar ends had moved 
 nearer. The forms of the two men were now distinct. 
 One was leaning over the side of the ship by Von Behr- 
 ling's side. The other stood a few feet away, gazing at 
 the lights of Dover. Von Behrling staggered to his feet. 
 He said something in an angry undertone to Streuss. 
 Louise rose and shook out her furs. 
 
 "My friend," she said, turning to Von Behrling, "if 
 your friends can spare you so long, will you fetch one 
 of my maids? You will find them both in my cabin, 
 number three. I wish to walk for a few moments before 
 we arrive. ' 
 
 Von Behrling turned away like a man in a dream. 
 Mademoiselle Idiale followed him slowly, and behind 
 her came Von Behrling's companions. 
 
 The details of the great singer's journey had been most 
 carefully planned by an excited manager who had re- 
 ceived the telegram announcing her journey to London. 
 There was an engaged carriage at Dover, into which she 
 was duly escorted by a representative of the Opera Syndi- 
 cate, who had been sent down from London to receive 
 her. Von Behrling seemed to be missing. She had seen 
 nothing of him since he had descended to summon her 
 maids. But just as the train was starting, she heard the 
 sound of angry voices, and a moment later his white
 
 VON BEHRLING IS TEMPTED 47 
 
 face was pressed through the open window of the 
 carriage. 
 
 " Louise," he muttered, " I am on fire ! I cannot talk 
 to you ! I fear that they suspect something. They have 
 told me that if I travel with you they will force their way 
 in. Even now, Streuss comes. Listen for your telephone 
 to-night or whenever I can. I must think I must 
 think!" 
 
 He passed on, and Louise, leaning back in her seat, 
 closed her eyes.
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 " WE PLAY FOR GREAT STAKES " 
 
 BELLAMY, travel-stained and weary, arrived at his rooms 
 at two o'clock on the following afternoon to find amongst 
 a pile of correspondence a penciled message awaiting 
 him in a handwriting he knew well. He tore open the 
 envelope. 
 
 DAVID DEAR, I have just arrived and I am sending you 
 these few lines at once. As to what progress I have made, I 
 cannot say for certain, but there is a chance. You had better 
 get the money ready and come to me here. If R. could only 
 escape from Streuss and those who watch him all the time, I 
 should be quite sure, but they are suspicious. What may hap- 
 pen I cannot tell. I do my best and I have hated it. Get the 
 money ready and come to me. 
 
 LOUISE. 
 
 Bellamy drew a little breath and tore the note into 
 pieces. Then he rang for his servant. 
 
 "A bath and some clean clothes quickly," he ordered. 
 "While I am changing, ring up Downing Street and see 
 if Sir James is there. If not, find out exactly where he 
 is. I must see him within half an hour. Afterwards, 
 get me a taxicab." 
 
 The man obeyed with the swift efficiency of the thor- 
 oughly trained servant. In rather less than the time 
 which he had stated, Bellamy had left his rooms. Before 
 four o'clock he had arrived at the address which Louise
 
 "WE PLAY FOR GREAT STAKES" 49 
 
 had given him. A commissionaire telephoned his name 
 to the first floor, and in a very few moments a pale-faced 
 French man-servant, in sombre black livery, descended 
 and bowed to Bellamy. 
 
 "Monsieur will be so good as to come this way," he 
 directed. 
 
 Bellamy followed him into the lift, which stopped at 
 the first floor. He was ushered into a small boudoir, 
 already smothered with roses. 
 
 "Mademoiselle will be here immediately," the man 
 announced. "She is engaged with a gentleman from the 
 Opera, but she will leave him to receive Monsieur." 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "Pray let Mademoiselle understand," he said, "that 
 I am entirely at her service. My time is of no consequence." 
 
 The man bowed and withdrew. Louise came to him 
 almost directly from an inner chamber. She was wearing 
 a loose gown, but the fatigue of her journey seemed already 
 to have passed away. Her eyes were bright, and a faint 
 color glowed in her cheeks. 
 
 " David," she exclaimed, " thank Heaven that you are 
 here!" 
 
 She took both his hands and held them for a momeat. 
 Then she walked to the door, made sure that it was securely 
 fastened, and stood there listening for a moment. 
 
 "I suppose I am foolish," she said, coming back to 
 him, "and yet I cannot help fancying that I am being 
 watched on every side since we landed in England. I 
 detest my new manager, and I don't trust any of the ser- 
 vants he has engaged for me. You got my note?" 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " I had your note and I am 
 here." 
 
 The restraint of his manner was obvious. He was
 
 50 HAVOC 
 
 standing a little away from her. She came suddenly up 
 to him, her hands fell upon his shoulders, her face was 
 upturned to his. Even then he made no motion to 
 embrace her. 
 
 " David," she whispered softly, " what I am doing 
 what I have done was at your suggestion. I do it for 
 you, I do it for my country, I do it against every natural 
 feeling I possess. I hate and loathe the lies I tell. Are 
 you remembering that? Is it in your heart at this 
 moment?" 
 
 He stooped and kissed her. 
 
 "Forgive me," he said, "it is I who am to blame, but I 
 am only human. We play for great stakes, Louise, but 
 sometimes one forgets." 
 
 "As I live," she murmured, "the kiss you gave me 
 last is still upon my lips. What I have promised goes for 
 nothing. What he has promised is this the papers 
 to-night." 
 
 "Unopened?" 
 
 "Unopened," she repeated, softly. 
 
 "But how is it to be done?" Bellamy asked. "He 
 must have arrived in London when you did last night. 
 How is it they are not already at the Embassy ? " 
 
 "The Ambassador was commanded to Cowes," she 
 explained. "He cannot be back until late to-night. No 
 one else has a key to the treaty safe, and Von Behrling 
 declined to give up the document to any one save the 
 Ambassador himself." 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "What about Streuss?" 
 
 "Streuss and the others are all furious," Louise said. 
 "Yet, after all, Behrling has a certain measure of right 
 on his side. His orders were to see with his own eyes
 
 'WE PLAY FOR GREAT STAKES" 51 
 
 this envelope deposited in the safe by the Ambassador 
 himself." 
 
 "He returns to-night!" Bellamy exclaimed quickly. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Before he comes," she declared, "I think that the 
 document will be in your hands." 
 
 " How is it to be done ? " 
 
 "The report is written," she explained, "on five pages 
 of foolscap. They are contained in a long envelope, 
 sealed with the Chancellor's crest. Von Behrling, being 
 one of the family, has the same crest. He has prepared 
 another envelope, the same size and weight, and signed 
 it with his seal. It is this which he will hand over to the 
 Ambassador if he should return unexpectedly. The real 
 one he has concealed." 
 
 "Is he here?" Bellamy inquired. 
 
 "Thank Heavens, no!" she answered. "My dear 
 David, what are you thinking of? He is not here and he 
 dare not come here. You are to go to your rooms," she 
 added, glancing at the clock, "and between five and six 
 o'clock this evening you will be rung up on the tele- 
 phone. A rendezvous will be given you for later on to- 
 night. You must take the money there and receive the 
 packet. Von Behrling will be disguised and prepared for 
 flight." 
 
 Bellamy's eyes glowed. 
 
 "You believe this?" he exclaimed. 
 
 "I believe it," she replied. "He is going to do it. 
 After he has seen you, he will make his way to Plymouth. 
 I have promised don't look at me, David I have 
 promised to join him there." 
 
 Bellamy was grave. 
 
 "There will be trouble," he said. "He will come back.
 
 52 HAVOC 
 
 He will want to shoot you. He may be slow-witted in 
 some things, but he is passionate." 
 
 "Am I a coward?" she asked, with a scornful laugh. 
 " Have I ever shown fear of my life ? No, David ! It 
 is not that of which I am afraid. It is the memory of the 
 man's touch, it is the look which was in your face when 
 you came into the room. These are the things I fear 
 not death." 
 
 Bellamy drew her into his arms and kissed her. 
 
 "Forgive me," he begged. "At such times a man is a 
 weak thing a weak and selfish thing. I am ashamed 
 of myself. I should have known better than to have 
 doubted you for a moment. I know you so well, Louise. 
 I know what you are." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "Dear," she said, "you have made me happy. And 
 now you must go away. Remember that these few minutes 
 are only an interlude. Over here I am Mademoiselle 
 Idiale who sings to-night at Covent Garden. See my 
 roses. There are two rooms full of reporters and photog- 
 raphers in the place now. The leader of the orchestra 
 is in my bedroom, and two of the directors are drinking 
 whiskies and sodas with this new manager of mine in 
 the dining-room. Between five and six o'clock this after- 
 noon you will get the message. It is somewhere, I think, 
 in the city that you will have to go. There will be no 
 trouble about the money? Nothing but notes or gold 
 will be of any use." 
 
 "I have it in my pocket," he answered. "I have it in 
 notes, but he need never fear that they will be traced. 
 The numbers of notes given for Secret Service purposes 
 are expunged from every one's memory." 
 
 She drew a little sigh.
 
 "WE PLAY FOR GREAT STAKES" 53 
 
 "It is a great sum," she said. "After all, he should be 
 grateful to me. If only he would be sensible and get 
 away to the United States or to South America ! He 
 could live there like a prince, poor fellow. He would be 
 far happier." 
 
 " I only hope that he will go," Bellamy agreed. " There 
 is one thing to be remembered. If he does not go, if he 
 stays for twenty-four hours in this country, I do not believe 
 that he will live to do you harm. The men who are with 
 him are not the sort to stop short at trifles. Besides 
 Streuss and Kahn, they have a regular army of spies at 
 their bidding here. If they find out that he has tricked 
 them, they will hunt him down, and before long." 
 
 Louise shivered. 
 
 "Oh, I hope," she exclaimed, "that he gets away! He 
 is a traitor, of course, but he is a traitor to a hateful cause, 
 and, after all, I think it is less for the money than for my 
 sake that he does it. That sounds very conceited, I sup- 
 pose," she added, with a faint smile. " Ah ! well, you 
 see, for five years so many have been trying to turn my 
 head. No wonder if I begin to believe some of their stories. 
 David, I must go. I must not keep Dr. Henschell waiting 
 any longer." 
 
 "To-morrow," he said, "to-morrow early I shall come. 
 I am afraid I shall miss your first appearance in England, 
 Louise." 
 
 The sound of a violin came floating out from the inner 
 room. 
 
 "That is my signal," she declared smiling. "Dr. 
 Henschell was almost beside himself that I came away. 
 I come, Doctor," she called out. "David, good fortune !" 
 she added, giving him her hands. "Now go, dear."'
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE HAND OF MISFORTUNE 
 
 BETWEEN the two men, seated opposite each other in 
 the large but somewhat barely furnished office, the radical 
 differences, both in appearance and mannerisms, perhaps, 
 also, in disposition, had never been more strongly evident. 
 They were partners in business and face to face with 
 ruin. Stephen Laverick, senior member of the firm, 
 although an air of steadfast gloom had settled upon his 
 clean-cut, powerful countenance, retained even in despair 
 something of that dogged composure, temperamental and 
 wholly British, which had served him well along the road 
 to fortune. Arthur Morrison, the man who sat on the 
 other side of the table, a Jew to his finger-tips notwithstand- 
 ing his altered name, sat like a broken thing, with tears in 
 his terrified eyes, disordered hair, and parchment-pale 
 face. Words had flown from his lips in a continual stream. 
 He floundered in his misery, sobbed about it like a child. 
 The hand of misfortune had stripped him naked, and one 
 man, at least, saw him as he really was. 
 
 " I can't stand it, Laverick, I could n't face them 
 all. It's too cruel too horrible! Eighteen thousand 
 pounds gone in one week, forty thousand in a month ! 
 Forty thousand pounds ! Oh, my God ! " 
 
 He writhed in agony. The man on the other side of 
 the table said nothing. 
 
 " If we could only have held on a little longer ! ' Unions ' 
 must turn ! They will turn ! Laverick, have you tried all
 
 THE HAND OF MISFORTUNE 55 
 
 your friends ? Think ! Have you tried them all ? Twenty, 
 thousand pounds would see us through it. We should get 
 our own money back I am sure of it. There's Rendell, 
 Laverick. He'd do anything for you. You're always 
 shooting or playing cricket with him. Have you asked 
 him, Laverick? He'd never miss the money." 
 
 "You and I see things differently, Morrison," Laverick 
 answered. "Nothing would induce me to borrow money 
 from a friend." 
 
 " But at a time like this," Morrison pleaded passionately. 
 "Everj" one does it sometimes. He'd be glad to help you. 
 I know he would. Have you ever thought what it will be 
 like, Laverick, to be hammered?" 
 
 "I have," Laverick admitted wearily. "God knows 
 it seems as terrible a thing to me as it can to you ! But 
 if we go down, we must go down with clean hands. I've 
 no faith in your infernal market, and not one penny will 
 I borrow from a friend." 
 
 The Jew's face was almost piteous. He stretched him- 
 self across the table. There were genuine tears in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Laverick," he said, "old man, you're wrong. I know 
 you think I've been led away. I've taken you out of our 
 depth, but the only trouble has been that we have n't had 
 enough capital, and no backing. Those who stand up 
 will win. They will make money." 
 
 "Unfortunately," Laverick remarked, "we cannot 
 stand up. Please understand that I will not discuss this 
 matter with you in any way. I will not borrow money 
 from Rendell or any friend. I have asked the bank 
 and I have asked Pages, who will be our largest creditors. 
 To help us would simply be a business proposition, so 
 far as they are concerned. As you know, they have re-
 
 56 HAVOC 
 
 fused. If you see any hope in that direction, why don't 
 you try some of your own friends ? For every one man I 
 know in the House, you have seemed to be bosom friends 
 with at least twenty." 
 
 Morrison groaned. 
 
 "Those I know are not that sort of friend," he answered. 
 "They will drink with you and spend a night out or a 
 week-end at Brighton, but they do not lend money. If 
 they would, do you think I would mind asking? Why, 
 I would go on my knees to any man who would lend us 
 the money. I would even kiss his feet. I cannot bear it, 
 Laverick ! I cannot ! I cannot ! " 
 
 Laverick said nothing. Words were useless things, 
 wasted upon such a creature. He eyed his partner with a 
 contempt which he took no pains to conceal. This, then, 
 was the smart young fellow recommended to him on all 
 sides, a few years ago, as one of the shrewdest young men 
 in his own particular department, a person bound to suc- 
 ceed, a money-maker if ever there was one ! Laverick 
 thought of him as he appeared at the office day by day, 
 glossy and immaculately dressed, with a flower in his 
 buttonhole, boots that were a trifle too shiny, hat and 
 coat, gloves and manner, all imitation but all very near 
 the real thing. What a collapse ! 
 
 " You 're going to stay and see it through ? " he whined 
 across the table. 
 
 "Certainly," Laverick answered. 
 
 The young man buried his face in his hands. 
 
 "I can't! I can't!" he moaned. "I couldn't bear 
 seeing all the fellows, hearing them whisper things oh, 
 Lord! Oh, Lord! . . . Laverick, we've a few hundreds 
 left. Give me something and let me out of it. You're a 
 stronger sort of man than I am. You can face it, I
 
 THE HAND OF MISFORTUNE 57 
 
 can't ! Give me enough to get abroad with, and if ever I 
 do any good I'll remember it, I will indeed." 
 
 Laverick was silent for a moment. His companion 
 watched his face eagerly. After all, why not let him go? 
 He was no help, no comfort. The very sight of him was 
 contemptible. 
 
 " I have paid no money into the bank for several days," 
 Laverick said slowly. "When they refused to help us, 
 it was, of course, obvious that they guessed how things 
 were." 
 
 "Quite right, quite right!" the young man interrupted 
 feverishly. " They would have stuck to it against the over- 
 draft. How much have we got in the safe?" 
 
 "This afternoon," Laverick continued, "I changed all 
 our cheques. You can count the proceeds for yourself. 
 There are, I think, eleven hundred pounds. You can 
 take two hundred and fifty, and you can take them with 
 you to any place you like." 
 
 The young man was already at the safe. The notes 
 were between them, on the table. He counted quickly 
 with the fingers of a born manipulator of money. When 
 he had gathered up two hundred and fifty pounds, Lave- 
 rick's hand fell upon his. 
 
 "No more," he ordered sternly. 
 
 "But, my dear fellow," Morrison protested, "half of 
 eleven hundred is five hundred and fifty. Why should 
 we not go halves ? That is only fair, Laverick. It is little 
 enough. We ought to have had a great deal more." 
 
 Laverick pushed him contemptuously away and locked 
 up the remainder of the notes. 
 
 "I am letting you take two hundred and fifty pounds 
 of this money," he said, "for various reasons. For one, I 
 can bear this thing better alone. As for the rest of the
 
 58 HAVOC 
 
 money, it remains there for the accountant who liquidates 
 our affairs. I do not propose to touch a penny of it." 
 
 The young man buttoned up his coat with an hysterical 
 little laugh. Such ways were not his ways. They were 
 not, indeed, within the limit of his understanding. But 
 of his partner he had learned one thing, at least. The 
 word of Stephen Laverick was the word of truth. He 
 shambled toward the door. On the whole, he was lucky 
 to have got the two hundred and fifty pounds. 
 
 "So long, Laverick," he said from the door. "I'm 
 I'm sorry." 
 
 It was characteristic of him that he did not venture to 
 offer his hand. Laverick nodded, not unkindly. After 
 all, this young man was as he had been made. 
 
 "I wish you good luck, Morrison," he said. "Try 
 South Africa."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 BOBBING THE DEAD 
 
 THE roar of the day was long since over. The rattle 
 of vehicles, the tinkling of hansom bells, the tooting of 
 horns from motor-cars and cabs, the ceaseless tramp of 
 footsteps, all had died away. Outside, the streets were 
 almost deserted. An occasional wayfarer passed along 
 the flagged pavement with speedy footsteps. Here and 
 there a few lights glimmered at the windows of some of 
 the larger blocks of offices. The bustle of the day was 
 finished. There is no place in London so strangely quiet 
 as the narrow thoroughfares of the city proper when the 
 hour approaches midnight. 
 
 Laverick, who since his partner's departure had been 
 studying with infinite care his private ledger, closed it at 
 last with a little snap and leaned back in his chair. After 
 all, save that he had got rid of Morrison, it had been a 
 wasted evening. Not even he, whose financial astute- 
 ness no man had ever questioned, could raise from those 
 piles of figures any other answer save the one inevitable 
 one, the knowledge of which had been like a black night- 
 mare stalking by his side for the last thirty-six hours. 
 One by one during the evening his clerks had left him, 
 and it was a proof not only of his wonderful self-control 
 but also of the confidence which he invariably inspired, 
 that not a single one of them had the slightest idea how 
 things were. Not a soul knew that the firm of Laverick 
 & Morrison was already practically derelict, that they
 
 60 HAVOC 
 
 had on the morrow twenty-five thousand pounds to find, 
 neither credit nor balance at their bankers, and eight 
 hundred and fifty pounds in the safe. 
 
 Laverick, haggard from his long vigil, locked up his 
 books at last, turned out the lights, and locking the doors 
 behind him walked into the silent street. Instinctively 
 he turned his steps westwards. This might well be the 
 last night on which he would care to show himself in his 
 accustomed haunts, the last night on which he could mix 
 with his fellows freely, and without that terrible sense 
 of consciousness which follows upon disaster. Already 
 there was little enough left of it. It was too late to change 
 and go to his club. The places of amusement were already 
 closed. To-morrow night, both club and theatres would 
 lie outside his world. He walked slowly, yet he had 
 scarcely taken, in fact, a dozen steps when, with a purely 
 mechanical impulse, he paused by a stone-flagged entry 
 to light a cigarette. It was a passage, almost a tunnel 
 for a few yards, leading to an open space, on one side 
 of which was an old churchyard strange survival in 
 such a part and on the other the offices of several 
 firms of stockbrokers, a Russian banker, an actuary. It 
 was the barest of impulses which led him to glance up 
 the entry before he blew out the match. Then he gave 
 a quick start and became for a moment paralyzed. Within 
 a few feet of him something was lying on the ground a 
 dark mass, black and soft the body of a man, perhaps. 
 Just above it, a pair of eyes gleamed at him through the 
 semi-darkness. 
 
 Laverick at first had no thought of tragedy. It might 
 be a tramp or a drunkard, perhaps, a fight, or a man 
 taken ill. Then something sinister about the light of 
 those burning eyes set his heart beating faster. He struck
 
 ROBBING THE DEAD 61 
 
 another match with firm fingers, and bent forward. What 
 he saw upon the ground made him feel a little sick. What 
 he saw racing away down the passage prompted him to 
 swift pursuit. Down the arched court into the open space 
 he ran, himself an athlete, but mocked by the swiftness of 
 the shadowlike form which he pursued. At the nd was 
 another street empty. He looked up and down, seek- 
 ing in vain for any signs of life. There was nothing to 
 tell him which way to turn. Opposite was a very laby- 
 rinth of courts and turnings. There was not even the 
 sound of a footfall to guide him. Slowly he retraced his 
 steps, lit another match, and leaned over the prostrate 
 figure. Then he knew that it was a tragedy indeed upon 
 which he had stumbled. 
 
 The man was dead, and he had met with his death by 
 unusual means. These were the first two things of which 
 Laverick assured himself. Without any doubt, a savage 
 and a terrible crime had been committed. A horn- 
 handled knife of unusual length had been driven up to 
 the hilt through the heart of the murdered man. There 
 had been other blows, notably about the head. There 
 was not much blood, but the position of the knife alone 
 told its ugly story. Laverick, though his nerves were of 
 the strongest, felt his head swim as he looked. He rose 
 to his feet and walked to the opening of the passage, 
 gasping. The street was no longer empty. 
 
 About thirty yards away, looking westwards, a man 
 was standing in the middle of the road. The light from 
 the lamp-post escaped his face. Laverick could only see 
 that he was slim, of medium height, dressed in dark 
 clothes, with his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. 
 To all appearance, he was watching the entry. Lave- 
 rick took a step towards him the man as delib-
 
 62 HAVOC 
 
 erately took a step further away. Laverick held up his 
 hand. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he called out, and beckoned. 
 
 The person addressed took no notice. Laverick ad- 
 vanced another two or three steps the man retreated 
 a similar distance. Laverick changed his tactics and 
 made a sudden spring forward. The man hesitated no 
 longer he turned and ran as though for his life. In 
 a few minutes he was round the corner of the street and 
 out of sight. Laverick returned slowly to the entry. 
 
 A distant clock struck midnight. A couple of clerks 
 came along the pavement on the other side, their hands 
 and arms full of letters. Laverick hesitated. He was 
 never afterwards able to account for the impulse which 
 prevented his calling out to them. Instead he lurked in 
 the shadows and watched them go by. When he was 
 sure that they had disappeared, he bent once more over 
 the body of the murdered man. Already that huddled-up 
 heap was beginning to exercise a nameless and terrible 
 fascination for him. His first feelings of horror were 
 mingled now with an insatiable curiosity. What manner 
 of man was he? He was tall and strongly built; fair 
 of almost florid complexion. His clothes were very 
 shabby and apparently ready-made. His moustache 
 was upturned, and his hair was trimmed closer than is 
 the custom amongst Englishmen. Laverick stooped 
 lower and lower until he found himself almost on his 
 knees. There was something projecting from the man's 
 pocket as though it had been half snatched out a large 
 portfolio of brown leather, almost the size of a satchel. 
 Laverick drew it out, holding it in one hand whilst with 
 firm fingers he struck another match. Then, for the first 
 time, a little cry broke from his lips. Both sides of the
 
 ROBBING THE DEAD 63 
 
 pocket-book were filled with bank-notes. As his match 
 flickered out, he caught a glimpse of the figures in the 
 left-hand corner 500 ! great rolls of them ! Lav- 
 erick rose gasping to his feet. It was a new Arabian 
 Nights, this ! a dream ! a continuation of the night- 
 mare which had threatened him all day ! Or was it, per- 
 haps, the madness coming the madness which he had 
 begun only an hour or so ago to fear! 
 
 He walked into the gaslit streets and looked up and 
 down. The mysterious stranger had vanished. There 
 was not a soul in sight. He clutched the rough stone wall 
 with his hands, he kicked the pavement with his heels. 
 There was no doubt about it everything around him 
 was real. Most real of all was the fact that within a few 
 feet of him lay a murdered man, and that in his hands 
 was that brown leather pocket-book with its miraculous 
 contents. For the last time Laverick retraced his steps 
 and bent over that huddled-up shape. One by one he 
 went through the other pockets. There was a packet of 
 Russian cigarettes; an empty card-case of chased silver, 
 and obviously of foreign workmanship; a cigarette 
 holder stained with much use, but of the finest amber, 
 with rich gold mountings. There was nothing else upon 
 the dead man, no means of identification of any sort. 
 Laverick stood up, giddy, half terrified with the thoughts 
 that went tearing through his brain. The pocket-book 
 began to burn his hand; he felt the perspiration break- 
 ing out anew upon his forehead. Yet he never hesitated. 
 He walked like a man in a dream, but his footsteps were 
 steady and short. Deliberately, and without any sign 
 of hurry, he made his way towards his offices. If a police- 
 man had come in sight up or down the street, he had 
 decided to call him and to acquaint him with what had
 
 64 HAVOC 
 
 happened. It was the one chance he held against him- 
 self, the gambler's method of decision, perhaps, un- 
 consciously arrived at. As it turned out, there was still 
 not a soul in sight. Laverick opened the outer door with 
 his latchkey, let himself in and closed it. Then he groped 
 his way through the clerk's office into his own room, 
 switched on the electric light and once more sat down 
 before his desk. 
 
 He drew his shaded writing lamp towards him and 
 looked around with a nervousness wholly unfamiliar. 
 Then he opened the pocket-book, drew out the roll of 
 bank-notes and counted them. It was curious that he 
 felt no surprise at their value. Bank-notes for five hun- 
 dred pounds are not exactly common, and yet he pro- 
 ceeded with his task without the slightest instinct of 
 surprise. Then he leaned back in his chair. Twenty 
 thousand pounds in Bank of England notes ! There 
 they lay on the table before him. A man had died for 
 their sake, another must go through all the days with 
 the price of blood upon his hea'd a murderer a 
 haunted creature for the rest of his life. And there on the 
 table were the spoils. Laverick tried to think the matter 
 out dispassionately. He was a man of average moral 
 fibre that is to say, he was honest in his dealings with 
 other men because his father and his grandfather before 
 him had been honest, and because the penalty for dis- 
 honesty was shameful. Here, however, he was face to 
 face with an altogether unusual problem. These notes 
 belonged, without a doubt, to the dead man. Save for 
 his own interference, they would have been in the hands 
 of his murderer. The use of them for a few days could 
 do no one any harm. Such risk as there was he took
 
 ROBBING THE DEAD 65 
 
 himself. That it was a risk he knew and fully realized. 
 Laverick had sat in his place unmoved when his partner 
 had poured out his wail of fear and misery. Yet of the 
 two men it was probable that Laverick himself had felt 
 their position the more keenly. He was a man of some 
 social standing, with a large circle of friends; a sports- 
 man, and with many interests outside the daily routine 
 of his city life. To him failure meant more than the loss 
 of money; it would rob him of everything in life worth 
 having. The days to come had been emptied of all promise. 
 He had held himself stubbornly because he was a 
 man, because he had strength enough to refuse to let his 
 mind dwell upon the indignities and humiliation to come. 
 And here before him was possible salvation. There was 
 a price to be paid, of course, a risk to be run in making 
 use even for an hour of this money. Yet from the first he 
 had known that he meant to do it. 
 
 Quite cool now, he opened his private safe, thrust the 
 pocket-book into one of the drawers, and locked it up. 
 Then he lit a cigarette, finally shut up the office and 
 walked down the street. As he passed the entry he turned 
 his head slowly. Apparently no one had been there, 
 nothing had been disturbed. Straining his eyes through 
 the darkness, he could even see that dark shape still 
 lying huddled up on the ground. Then he walked on. 
 He had burned his boats now and was prepared for all 
 emergencies. At the corner he met a policeman, to whom 
 he wished a cheery good-night. He told himself that the 
 thing which he had done was for the best. He owed it to 
 himself. He owed it to those who had trusted him. After 
 all, it was the chief part of his life his city career. It 
 was here that his friends lived. It was here that his am- 
 bitions flourished. Disgrace here was eternal disgrace.
 
 66 HAVOC 
 
 His father and his grandfather before him had been men 
 honored and respected in this same circle. Disgrace to 
 him, such disgrace as that with which he had stood face 
 to face a few hours ago, would have been, in a certain 
 sense, a reflection upon their memories. The names upon 
 the brass plates to right and to left of him were the names 
 of men he knew, men with whom he desired to stand well, 
 whose friendship or contempt made life worth living or 
 the reverse. It was worth a great risk this effort of 
 his to keep his place. His one mistake this association 
 with Morrison had been such an unparalleled stroke 
 of bad luck. He was rid of the fellow now. For the future 
 there should be no more partners. He had his life to live. 
 It was not reasonable that he should allow himself to be 
 dragged down into the mire by such a creature. 
 
 He found an empty taxicab at the corner of Queen 
 Victoria Street, and hailed it. 
 
 "Whitehall Court," he told the driver.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 BELLAMY IS OUTWITTED 
 
 BELLAMY was a man used to all hazards, whose supreme 
 effort of life it was to meet success and disaster with unva- 
 rying mien. But this was disaster too appalling even for 
 his self-control. He felt his knees shake so that he caught 
 at the edge of the table before which he was standing. 
 There was no possible doubt about it, he had been tricked. 
 Von Behrling, after all, Von Behrling, whom he had 
 looked upon merely as a stupid, infatuated Austrian, 
 ready to sell his country for the sake of a woman, 
 had fooled him utterly ! 
 
 The man who sat at the head of the table the only 
 other occupant of the room was in Court dress, with 
 many orders upon his coat. He had just been attending 
 a Court function, from which Bellamy's message had 
 summoned him. Before him on the table was an en- 
 velope, hastily torn open, and several sheets of blank 
 paper. It was upon these that Bellamy's eyes were fixed 
 with an expression of mingled horror and amazement. 
 The Cabinet Minister had already pushed them away 
 with a little gesture of contempt. 
 
 " Bellamy," he said gravely, " it is not like you to make 
 so serious an error." 
 
 "I hope not, sir," Bellamy answered. "I yes, I 
 have been deceived." 
 
 The Minister glanced at the clock. 
 
 " What is to be done ? " he asked.
 
 68 HAVOC 
 
 Bellamy, with an effort, pulled himself together. He 
 caught, up the envelope, looked once more inside, held 
 up the blank sheets of paper to the lamp and laid them 
 down. Then with clenched fists he walked to the other 
 side of the room and returned. He was himself again. 
 
 "Sir James, I will not waste your time by saying that 
 I am sorry. Only an hour ago I met Von Behrling in a 
 little restaurant in the city, and gave him twenty thou- 
 sand pounds for that envelope." 
 
 "You paid him the money," the Minister remarked 
 slowly, " without opening the envelope." 
 
 Bellamy admitted it. 
 
 "In such transactions as these," he declared, "great 
 risks are almost inevitable. I took what must seem to 
 you now to be an absurd risk. To tell you the honest 
 truth, sir, and I have had experience in these things, I 
 thought it no risk at all when I handed over the money. 
 Von Behrling was there in disguise. The men with whom 
 he came to this country are furious with him. To all 
 appearance, he seemed to have broken with them abso- 
 lutelv. Even now " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Even now," Bellamy said slowly, with his eyes fixed 
 upon the wall of the room, and a dawning light growing 
 stronger every moment in his face, "even now I believe 
 that Von Behrling made a mistake. An envelope such 
 as this had been arranged for him to show the others or 
 leave at the Austrian Embassy in case of emergency. He 
 had it with him in his pocket-book. He even told me so. 
 God in Heaven, he gave me the wrong one!" 
 
 The Minister glanced once more at the clock. 
 
 "In that case," he said, "perhaps he would not go to 
 the Embassy to-night, especially if he was in disguise.
 
 BELLAMY IS OUTWITTED 69 
 
 You mar still be able to find him and repair the 
 error." 
 
 "I will trv," answered Bellamy. "Thank Heaven!" 
 he added, with a sudden gleam of satisfaction, "my 
 watchers are still dogging his footsteps. I can find out 
 before morning where he went when he left our rendezvous. 
 There is another way, too. Mademoiselle this man 
 Von Behrling believed that she was leaving the country 
 with him. She was to have had a message within the 
 next few hours." 
 
 The Minister nodded thoughtfully. 
 
 " Bellamy. I have been your friend and you have done 
 >d service often. The Secret Service estimates, as 
 you know, are above supervision, but twenty thousand 
 pounds is a great deal of money to have paid for this." 
 
 He touched the sheets of blank paper with his fore- 
 finger. Bellamy's teeth were clenched. 
 
 " The money shall be returned, sir." 
 
 "Do not misunderstand me," Sir James went on, 
 speaking a little more kindly. "The money, after all, in 
 comparison with what it was destined to purchase, is 
 nothing. We might even count it a fair risk if it was 
 lost." 
 
 "It shall not be lost." Bellamy promised. "If Yon 
 Behrling has played the traitor to us, then he will go back 
 to his country. In that case. I will have the money from 
 Lira v. ithout a doubt. If. on the other hand, he was honest 
 to us and a traitor to his country, as I firmly believe, it 
 may not yet be too late." 
 
 "Let us hope not," Sir James declared. "Bellamy," 
 he continued, a note of agitation trembling in his tone, 
 " I need not tell you, I am sure, how important this matter 
 is. You work like a mole in the dark, vet vou have brain>.
 
 70 HAVOC 
 
 you understand. Let me tell you how things are with 
 us. A certain amount of confidence is due to you, if to 
 any one. I may tell you that at the Cabinet Council to- 
 day a very serious tone prevailed. We do not understand 
 in the least the attitude of several of the European Powers. 
 It can be understood only under certain assumptions. 
 A note of ours sent through the Ambassador to Vienna 
 has remained unanswered for two days. The German 
 Ambassador has left unexpectedly for Berlin on urgent 
 business. We have just heard, too, that a secret mission 
 from Russia left St. Petersburg last night for Paris. Side 
 by side with all this," Sir James continued, "the Czar is 
 trying to evade his promised visit here. The note we 
 have received speaks of his health. Well, we know all 
 about that. We know, I may tell you, that his health has 
 never been better than at the present moment." 
 
 "It all means one thing and one thing only," Bellamy 
 affirmed. "In Vienna and Berlin to-day they look at an 
 Englishman and smile. Even the man in the street seems 
 to know what is coming." 
 
 Sir James leaned a little back in his seat. His hands 
 were tightly clenched, and there was a fierce light in his 
 hollow eyes. Those who were intimate with him knew 
 that he had aged many years during the last few weeks. 
 
 "The cruel part is," he said softly, "that it should 
 have come in my administration, when for ten years I 
 have prayed from the Opposition benches for the one thing 
 which would have made us safe to-day." 
 
 "An army," murmured Bellamy. 
 
 "The days are coming," Sir James continued, "when 
 those who prated of militarism and the security of our 
 island walls will see with their own eyes the ruin they have 
 brought upon us. Secretly we are mobilizing all that we
 
 BELLAMY IS OUTWITTED 71 
 
 Lave to mobilize," he added, with a little sigh. " At the 
 very best, however, our position is pitiful. Even if we are 
 prepared to defend, I am afraid that we shall see things 
 on the Continent in which we shall be driven to inter- 
 fere, or else suffer the greatest blow which our prestige 
 has ever known. If we could only tell what was coming !" 
 he wound up, looking once more at those empty sheets of 
 paper. "It is this darkness which is so alarming !" 
 
 Bellamy turned toward the door. 
 
 "You have the telephone in your bedroom, sir?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes, ring me up at any time in the night or morning, 
 if you have news." 
 
 Bellamy drove at once to Dover Street. It was half-past 
 one, but he had no fear of not being admitted. Louise's 
 French maid answered the bell. 
 
 "Madame has not retired?" Bellamy inquired. 
 
 " But no, sir," the woman assured him, with a welcom- 
 ing smile. "It is only a few minutes ago that she has 
 returned." 
 
 Bellamy was ushered at once into her room. She was 
 gorgeous in blue satin and pearls. Her other maid was 
 taking off her jewels. She dismissed both the women 
 abruptly. 
 
 " I absolutely could n't avoid a supper-party," she said, 
 holding out her hands. "You expected that, of course. 
 You were not at the Opera House?" 
 
 He shook his head, and walking to the door tried the 
 handle. It was securely closed. He came back slowly 
 to her side. Her eyes were questioning him fiercely. 
 
 " Well ? " she exclaimed. " Well ? " 
 
 "Have you heard from Von Behrling?" 
 
 "No," she answered. "He knew that I must sing to-
 
 72 HAVOC 
 
 night. I have been expecting him to telephone every 
 moment since I got home. You have seen him ? " 
 
 "I have seen him," Bellamy admitted. "Either he 
 has deceived us both, or the most unfortunate mistake 
 in the world has happened. Listen. I met him where 
 he appointed. He was there, disguised, almost unrecog- 
 nizable. He was nervous and desperate; he had the air 
 of a man who has cut himself adrift from the world. I 
 gave him the money, twenty thousand pounds in Bank 
 of England notes, Louise, and he gave me the papers, 
 or what we thought were the papers. He told me that 
 he was keeping a false duplicate upon him for a little time, 
 in case he was seized, but that he was going to Liverpool 
 Street station to wait, and would telephone you from the 
 hotel there later on. You have not heard yet, then?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "There has been no message, but go on." 
 
 " He gave me the wrong document the wrong enve- 
 lope," continued Bellamy. " When I took it to to 
 Downing Street, it was full of blank paper." 
 
 The color slowly left her cheeks. She looked at him 
 with horror in her face. 
 
 "Do you think that he meant to do it?" she exclaimed. 
 
 "We cannot tell," Bellamy answered. "My own im- 
 pression is that he did not We must find out at once 
 what has become of him. He might even, if he fancies 
 himself safe, destroy the envelope he has, believing it to 
 be the duplicate. He is sure to telephone you. The mo- 
 ment you hear you must let me know." 
 
 "You had better stay here," she declared. "There 
 are plenty of rooms. You will be on the spot then." 
 
 Bellamy shook his head. 
 
 "The joke of it is that I, too, am being watched where-
 
 BELLAMY IS OUTWITTED 73 
 
 ever I go. That fellow Streuss has spies everywhere. 
 That is one reason why I believe that Von Behrling was 
 serious." 
 
 "Oh, he was serious!" Louise repeated. 
 
 "You are sure?" Bellamy asked. "You have never 
 had even any doubt about him?" 
 
 "Never," she answered firmly. "David, I had not 
 meant to tell you this. You know that I saw him for a 
 moment this morning. He was in deadly earnest. He 
 gave me a ring a trifle but it had belonged to his 
 mother. He would not have done this if he had been 
 playing us false." 
 
 Bellamy sprang to his feet. 
 
 "You are right, Louise!" he exclaimed. "I shall go 
 back to my rooms at once. Fortunately, I had a man 
 shadowing Von Behrling, and there may be a report for 
 me. If anything comes here, you will telephone at once?" 
 
 "Of course," she assented. 
 
 "You do not think it possible," he asked slowly, "that 
 he would attempt to see you here?" 
 
 Louise shuddered for a moment. 
 
 " I absolutely forbade it, so I am sure there is no chance 
 of that." 
 
 "Very well, then," he decided, "we will wait. Dear," 
 he added, in an altered tone, "how splendid you 
 look!" 
 
 Her face suddenly softened. 
 
 "Ah, David!" she murmured, "to hear you speak 
 naturally even for a moment it makes everything seem 
 so different !" 
 
 He held out his arms and she came to him with a little 
 sigh of satisfaction. 
 
 "Louise," he said, "some day the time may come
 
 74 HAVOC 
 
 when we shall be able to give up this life of anxiety and 
 terrors. But it cannot be yet not for your country's 
 sake or mine." 
 
 She kissed him fondly. 
 
 " So long as there is hope !" she whispered.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 VON BEHRLING'S FATE 
 
 j 
 
 IT seemed to Louise that she had scarcely been in bed 
 an hour when the more confidential of her maids 
 Annette, the Frenchwoman woke her with a light touch 
 of the arm. She sat up in bed sleepily. 
 
 " What is it, Annette?" she asked. "Surely it is not 
 mid-day yet ? Why do you disturb me ?" 
 
 " It is barely nine o'clock, Mademoiselle, but Monsieur 
 Bellamy Mademoiselle told me that she wished to 
 receive him whenever he came. He is in the boudoir now, 
 and very impatient." 
 
 "Did he send any message?" 
 
 "Only that his business was of the most urgent," the 
 maid replied. 
 
 Louise sighed, she was really very sleepy. Then, as 
 the thoughts began to crowd into her brain, she began 
 also to remember. Some part of the excitement of a few 
 hours ago returned. 
 
 " My bath, Annette, and a dressing-gown," she ordered. 
 "Tell Monsieur Bellamy that I hurry. I will be with 
 him in twenty minutes." 
 
 To Bellamy, the twenty minutes were minutes of 
 purgatory. She came at last, however, fresh and eager; 
 her hair tied up with ribbon, she herself clad in a pink 
 dressing-gown and pink slippers. 
 
 "David !" she cried, "my dear David !" 
 
 Then she broke off.
 
 76 HAVOC 
 
 "What is it?" she asked, in a different tone. 
 
 He showed her the headlines of the newspaper he was 
 carrying. 
 
 "Tragedy!" he answered hoarsely. "Von Behrling 
 was true, after all, at least, it seems so." 
 
 "What has happened?" she demanded. 
 
 Bellamy pointed once more to the newspaper. 
 
 "He was murdered last night, within fifty yards of the 
 place of our rendezvous." 
 
 A little exclamation broke from Louise's lips. She sat 
 down suddenly. The color called into her cheeks by the 
 exercise of her bath was rapidly fading away. 
 
 "David," she murmured, "is this true?" 
 
 "It is indeed," Bellamy assured her. "Not only that, 
 but there is no mention of his pocket-book in the account 
 of his murder. It must have been engineered by Streuss 
 and the others, and they have got away with the pocket- 
 book and the money." 
 
 "What can we do?" she asked. 
 
 " There is nothing to be done," Bellamy declared calmly. 
 "We are defeated. The thing is quite apparent. Von 
 Behrling never succeeded, after all, in shaking off the 
 espionage of the men who were watching him. They 
 tracked him to our rendezvous, they waited about while 
 I met him. Afterwards, he had to pass along a narrow 
 passage. It was there that he was found murdered." 
 
 " But, David, I don't understand ! Why did they wait 
 until after he had seen you? How did they know that 
 he had not parted with the paper in the restaurant ? To 
 all intents and purposes he ought to have done so." 
 
 "I cannot understand that myself," Bellamy admitted. 
 "In fact, it is inexplicable." 
 
 She took up the newspaper and glanced at the report.
 
 VON BEHRLING'S FATE 77 
 
 Then, "You are sure, I suppose, that this does refer to 
 Von Behrling ? He is quite unidentified, you see." 
 
 "There is no doubt about it," Bellamy declared. "I 
 have been to the Mortuary. It is certainly he. All our 
 work has been in vain just as I thought, too, that we 
 had made a splendid success of it." 
 
 She looked at him compassionately. 
 
 "It is hard lines, dear," she admitted. "You are tired, 
 too. You look as though you had been up all night." 
 
 "Yes, I am tired," he answered, sinking into a chair. 
 "I am worse than tired. This has been the grossest 
 failure of my career, and I am afraid that it is the end of 
 everything. I have lost twenty thousand pounds of 
 Secret Service money; I have lost the one chance which 
 might have saved England. They will never trust me 
 again." 
 
 "You did your best," she said, coming over and 
 sitting on the arm of his chair. "You did your best, 
 David." 
 
 She laid her hands upon his forehead, her cheek against 
 his smooth and cold exquisitely refreshing it seemed 
 to his jaded nerves. 
 
 "Ah, Louise!" he murmured, "life is getting a little 
 too strenuous. Perhaps we have given too much of it up 
 to others. What do you think ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " Dear, I have felt like that sometimes, yet what can we 
 do ? Could we be happy, you and I, in exile, if the things 
 which we dread were coming to pass? Could I go away 
 and hide while my countrymen were being butchered 
 out of existence ? And you you are not the sort of 
 man to be content with an ignoble peace. No, it is n't 
 possible. Our work may not be over yet
 
 7 8 HAVOC 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and Annette entered 
 with many apologies. 
 
 "Mademoiselle," she explained, "a thousand pardons, 
 and to Monsieur also, but there is a gentleman here who 
 says that his business is of the most urgent importance, 
 and that he must see you at once. I have done all that I 
 can, but he will not go away. He knows that Monsieur 
 Bellamy is here, too," she added, turning to him, " and 
 he says his business has to do with Monsieur as well as 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 Bellamy almost snatched the card from the girl's 
 fingers. He read out the name in blank amazement. 
 
 "Baron de Streuss!" 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Louise and he exchanged 
 wondering glances. 
 
 "What can this mean?" she asked hoarsely. 
 
 "Heaven knows!" he answered. "Let us see him 
 together. After all after all - 
 
 "You can show the gentleman in, Annette," her mis- 
 tress ordered. 
 
 "If he has the papers," Bellamy continued slowly, 
 " why does he come to us ? It is not like these men to be 
 vindictive. Diplomacy to them is nothing a game of 
 chess. I do not understand." 
 
 The door opened. Annette announced their visitor. 
 Streuss bowed low to Louise he bowed, also, to 
 Bellamy. 
 
 "I need not introduce myself," he said. "With Mr. 
 Bellamy I have the honor to be well acquainted. Madame 
 is known to all the world." 
 
 Louise nodded, somewhat coldly. 
 
 "We can dispense with an introduction, I think, Mon- 
 sieur le Baron," she said. "At the same time, you will
 
 VON BEHRLING'S FATE 79 
 
 perhaps explain to what I owe this somewhat unexpected 
 pleasure?" 
 
 "Mademoiselle, an explanation there must certainly 
 be. I know that it is an impossible hour. I know, too, 
 that to have forced my presence upon you in this manner 
 may seem discourteous. Yet the urgency of the matter, 
 I am convinced, justifies me." 
 
 Louise motioned him to a chair, but he declined with 
 a little bow of thanks. 
 
 "Mademoiselle," he said, "and you, Mr. Bellamy, 
 we need not waste words. We have played a game of 
 chess together. You, Mademoiselle, and Mr. Bellamy on 
 the one side I and my friends upon the other. The 
 honor of Rudolph Von Behrling was the pawn for which 
 we fought. The victory remains with you." 
 
 Bellamy never moved a muscle. Louise, on the con- 
 trary, could not help a slight start. 
 
 "Under the circumstances," the Baron continued 
 smoothly, "the struggle was uneven. I do myself the 
 justice to remember that from the first I realized that 
 we played a losing game. Mademoiselle," he added, 
 " from the days of Cleopatra ay, and throughout those 
 shadowy days which lie beyond the diplomats of the 
 world have been powerless when matched against your 
 sex. Rudolph Von Behrling was an honest fellow enough 
 until he looked into your eyes. Mademoiselle, you have 
 gifts which might, perhaps, have driven from his senses 
 a stronger man." 
 
 Louise smiled, but there was no suggestion of mirth 
 in the curl of her lips. Her eyes all the time sought his 
 questioningly. She did not understand. 
 
 "You flatter me, Baron," she murmured. 
 
 "No, I do not flatter you, I speak the truth. This
 
 8o HAVOC 
 
 plain talking is pleasant enough when the time comes 
 that one may indulge in it. That time, I think, is now. 
 Rudolph Von Behrling, against my advice, but because 
 he was the Chancellor's nephew, was associated with me 
 in a certain enterprise, the nature of which is no secret 
 to you, Mademoiselle, or to Mr. Bellamy here. We fol- 
 lowed a man who, by some strange chance, was in pos- 
 session of a few sheets of foolscap, the contents of which 
 were alike priceless to my country and priceless to yours. 
 The subsequent history of those papers should have 
 been automatic. The first step was fulfilled readily 
 enough. The man disappeared the papers were ours. 
 Von Behrling was the man who secured them, and Von 
 Behrling it was who retained them. If my advice had 
 been followed, I admit frankly that we should have 
 ignored all possible comment and returned with them 
 at once to Vienna. The others thought differently. They 
 ruled that we should come on to London and deposit the 
 packet with our Ambassador here. In a weak moment 
 I consented. It was your opportunity, Mademoiselle, 
 an opportunity of which you have splendidly availed 
 yourself." 
 
 This time Louise held herself with composure. Bel- 
 lamy's brain was in a whirl but he remained silent. 
 
 "I come to you both," the Baron continued, "with my 
 hands open. I come I make no secret of it I come 
 to make terms. But first of all I must know whether I 
 am in time. There is one question which I must ask. I 
 address it, sir, to you," he added, turning to Bellamy. 
 "Have you yet placed in the hands of your Government 
 the papers which you obtained from Von Behrling?" 
 
 Bellamy shook his head. 
 
 The Baron drew a long breath of relief. Though he
 
 VON BEHRLING'S FATE 81 
 
 had maintained his savoir faire perfectly, the fingers 
 which for a moment played with his tie, as though to 
 rearrange it, were trembling. 
 
 "Well, then, I am in time. Will you see my hand?" 
 
 "Mademoiselle and I," answered Bellamy, "are at 
 least ready to listen to anything you may have to say." 
 
 "You know quite well," the Baron continued, "what 
 it is that I have come to say, yet I want you to remember 
 this. I do not come to bribe you in any ordinary manner. 
 The things which are to come will happen; they must 
 happen, if not this year, next, if not next year, within 
 half a decade of years. History is an absolute science. 
 The future as well as the past can be read by those who 
 know the signs. The thing which has been resolved 
 upon is certain. The knowledge of the contents of those 
 papers by your Government might delay the final catas- 
 trophe for a short while; it could do no more. In the 
 long run, it would be better for your country, Mr. Bel- 
 lamy, in every way, that the end come soon. Therefore, 
 I ask you to perform no traitorous deed. I ask you to do 
 that which is simply reasonable for all of us, which is, 
 indeed, for the advantage of all of us. Restore thosV 
 papers to me instead of handing them to your Govern- 
 ment, and I will pay you for them the sum of one hundred 
 thousand pounds!" 
 
 "One hundred thousand pounds !" Bellamy repeated. 
 
 "One hundred thousand pounds !" murmured Louise. 
 
 There was a brief, intense pause. Louise waited, 
 warned by the expression in Bellamy's face. Silence, she 
 felt, was safest, and it was Bellamy who spoke. 
 
 "Baron," said he, "your visit and your proposal are 
 both a little amazing. Forgive me if I speak alone with 
 Mademoiselle for a moment."
 
 82 HAVOC 
 
 "Most certainly," the Baron agreed. "I go away and 
 leave you out of the room, if you will." 
 
 "It is not necessary," Bellamy replied. "Louise !" 
 
 The Baron withdrew to the window, and Bellamy led 
 Louise into the furthest corner of the room. 
 
 "What can it mean?" he whispered. "What do you 
 suppose has happened?" 
 
 " I cannot imagine. My brain is in a whirl." 
 
 "If they have not got the pocket-book," Bellamy mut- 
 tered, " it must have gone with Von Behrling to the Mor- 
 tuary. If so, chere is a chance. Louise, say nothing; 
 leave this to me." 
 
 "As you will," she assented. "I have no wish to 
 interfere. I only hope that he does not ask me any 
 questions." 
 
 They came once more into the middle of the room, and 
 the Baron turned to meet them. 
 
 "You must forgive Mademoiselle," said Bellamy, "if 
 she is a little upset this morning. She knows, of course, 
 as I know and you know, that Von Behrling was playing 
 a desperate game, and that he carried his life in his hands. 
 Yet his death has been a shock has been a shock, I 
 may say, to both of us. From your point of view," Bel- 
 lamy went on, " it was doubtless deserved, but 
 
 " What, in God's name, is this that you say ?" the Baron 
 interrupted. " I do not understand at all ! You speak of 
 Von Behrling's death! What do you mean?" 
 
 Bellamy looked at him as one who listens to strange 
 words. 
 
 "Baron," he said, "between us who know so much 
 there is surely no need for you to play a part. Von Behr- 
 ling knew that you were watching him. Your spies were 
 shadowing him as they have done me. He knew that he
 
 VON BEHRLING'S FATE 83 
 
 was running terrible risks. He was not unprepared and 
 he has paid. It is not for us - 
 
 "Now, in God's name, tell me the truth!" Baron de 
 Streuss interrupted once more. "What is it that you are 
 saying about Von Behrling's death?" 
 
 Bellamy drew a little breath between his teeth. He 
 leaned forward with his hands resting upon the table. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you do not know ? " 
 
 "Upon my soul, no!" replied the Baron. 
 
 Bellamy threw open the newspaper before him. 
 
 "Von Behrling was murdered last night, ten minutes 
 after our interview."
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 
 BARON DE STREUSS* PROPOSAL 
 
 THE Baron adjusted his eyeglass with shaking fingers. 
 His face now was waxen-white as he spread out the news- 
 paper upon the table and read the paragraph word by 
 word. 
 
 TERRIBLE CRIME IN THE CITY 
 
 Early this morning the body of a man was dis- 
 covered in a narrow passageway leading from 
 Crooked Friars to Royal Street, under circum- 
 stances which leave little doubt but that the man's 
 death was owing to foul play. The deceased had 
 apparently been stabbed, and had received several 
 severe blows about the head. He was shabbily 
 dressed but was well supplied with money, and he 
 was wearing a gold watch and chain when he was 
 found. 
 
 LATER 
 
 There appears to be no further, doubt but that 
 the man found in the entry leading from Crooked 
 Friars had been the victim of a particularly mur- 
 derous assault. Neither his clothes nor his linen 
 bore any mark by means of which he could be 
 identified. The body has been removed to the 
 nearest mortuary, and an inquest will shortly be 
 held.
 
 BARON DE STREUSS' PROPOSAL 85 
 
 Streuss looked up from the newspaper and the reality 
 of his surprise was apparent. He had all the appearance 
 of a man shaken with emotion. While he looked at his 
 two companions wonderingly, strange thoughts were 
 forming in his mind. 
 
 "Von Behrling dead!" he muttered. "But who - 
 who could have done this?" 
 
 "Until this moment," Bellamy answered dryly, "it was 
 not a matter concerning which we had any doubt. The 
 only wonder to us was that it should have been done too 
 late." 
 
 "You mean," Streuss said slowly, "that he was mur- 
 dered after he had completed his bargain with you?" 
 
 "Naturally." 
 
 "I suppose," the Baron continued, "there is no ques- 
 tion but that it was done afterwards? You smile," he 
 exclaimed, "but what am I to think? Neither I nor my 
 people had any hand in this deed. How about yours?" 
 
 Bellamy shook his head. 
 
 " We do not fight that way," he replied. " I had bought 
 Von Behrling. He was of no further interest to me. I 
 did not care whether he lived or died." 
 
 "There is something very strange about this," the 
 Baron said. "If neither you nor I were responsible for 
 his death, who was?" 
 
 "That I can't tell you. Perhaps later in the day we 
 shall hear from the police. It is scarcely the sort of mur- 
 der which would remain long undetected, especially as 
 he was robbed of a large sum in bank-notes." 
 
 "Supplied by His Majesty's Government, I presume?" 
 Streuss remarked. 
 
 "Precisely," Bellamy assented, "and paid to him 
 by me."
 
 86 HAVOC 
 
 "At any rate," Streuss said grimly, "we have now no 
 more secrets from one another. I will ask you one last 
 question. Where is that packet at the present moment ?" 
 
 Bellamy raised his eyebrows. 
 
 "It is a question," he declared, "which you could 
 scarcely expect me to answer." 
 
 "I will put it another way," Streuss continued. "Sup- 
 posing you decide to accept my offer, how long will it be 
 before the packet can be placed in my hands?" 
 
 "If we decide to accept," Bellamy answered, "there is 
 no reason why there should be any delay at all." 
 
 Streuss was silent for several moments. His hands 
 were thrust deep down into the pockets of his overcoat. 
 With eyes fixed upon the tablecloth, he seemed to be 
 thinking deeply, till presently he raised his head and 
 looked steadily at Bellamy. 
 
 " You are sure that Von Behrling has not fooled you ? 
 You are sure that you have that identical packet ?" 
 
 "I am absolutely certain that I have," Bellamy an- 
 swered, without flinching. 
 
 " Then accept my price and have done with this matter," 
 Streuss begged. "I will sign a draft for you here, and I 
 will undertake to bring you the money, or honor it wherever 
 you say, within twenty-four hours." 
 
 " I cannot decide so quickly," said Bellamy, shaking 
 his head. " Mademoiselle Idiale and I must talk together 
 first. I am not sure," he added, "whether I might not 
 find a higher bidder." 
 
 Streuss laughed mirthlessly. 
 
 "There is little fear of that," he said. "The papers 
 are of no use except to us and to England. To England, 
 I will admit that the foreknowledge of what is to come 
 would be worth much, although the eventful result would
 
 BARON DE STREUSS' PROPOSAL 87 
 
 be the same. It is for that reason that I am here, for that 
 reason that I have made you this offer." 
 
 ''Mademoiselle and I must discuss it," Bellamy de- 
 clared. " It is not a matter to be decided upon off-hand. 
 Remember that it is not only the packet which you are 
 offering to buy, but also my career and my honor." 
 
 "One hundred thousand pounds," Streuss said slowly. 
 " From your own side you get nothing nothing but 
 your beggarly salary and an occasional reprimand. One 
 hundred thousand pounds is not immense wealth, but it 
 is something." 
 
 "Your offer is a generous one," admitted Bellamy, 
 "there is no doubt about that. On the other hand, I 
 cannot decide without further consideration. It is a big 
 thing for us, remember. I have worked very hard for the 
 contents of that packet." 
 
 Once more Streuss felt an uneasy pang of incredulity. 
 After all, was this Englishman playing with him? So he 
 asked: "You are quite sure that you have it?" 
 
 "There is no means of convincing you of which I care 
 to make use. You must be content with my word. I have 
 the packet. I paid Von Behrling for it and he gave it to 
 me with his own hands." 
 
 "I must accept your word," Streuss declared. "I give 
 you three days for reflection. Before I go, Mr. Bellamy, 
 forgive me if I refer once more to this," touching the 
 newspaper which still lay upon the table. "Remember 
 that Rudolph Von Behrling moved about a marked man. 
 Your spies and mine were most of the time upon his heels. 
 Yet in the end some third person seems to have inter- 
 vened. Are you quite sure that you know nothing of 
 this?" 
 
 " Upon my honor," Bellamy replied, " I have not the
 
 88 HAVOC 
 
 slightest information concerning Von Behrling's death 
 beyond what you can read there. It was as great a sur- 
 prise to me as to you." 
 
 "It is incomprehensible," Streuss murmured. 
 
 "One can only conclude," Bellamy remarked thought- 
 fully, " that someone must have seen him with those notes. 
 There were people moving about in the little restaurant 
 where we met. The rustle of bank-notes has cost more 
 than one man his life." 
 
 "For the present," Streuss said, "we must believe that 
 it was so. Listen to me, both of you. You will be wiser 
 if you do not delay. You are young people, and the world 
 is before you. With money one can do everything. With- 
 out it, life is but a slavery. The world is full of beautiful 
 dwelling-places for those who have the means to choose. 
 Remember, too, that not a soul will ever know of this 
 transaction, if you should decide to accept my offer." 
 
 " We shall remember all those things," Bellamy assured 
 him. 
 
 Streuss took up his hat and gloves. 
 
 "With your permission, then, Mademoiselle," he con- 
 cluded, turning to Louise, "I go. I must try and under- 
 stand for myself the meaning of this thing which has 
 happened to Von Behrling." 
 
 "Do not forget," Bellamy said, "that if you discover 
 anything, we are equally interested." . . . 
 
 They heard him go out. Bellamy purposely held the 
 door open until he saw the lift descend. Then he closed 
 it firmly and came back into the room. Louise and he 
 looked at each other, their faces full of anxious questioning. 
 
 "What does it mean?" Louise cried. "What can it 
 mean?" 
 
 " Heaven alone knows ! " Bellamy answered. " There is
 
 BARON DE STREUSS' PROPOSAL 89 
 
 not a gleam of daylight. My people are absolutely inno- 
 cent of any attempt upon Von Behrling. If Streuss tells 
 the truth, and I believe he does, his people are in the same 
 position. Who, then, in the name of all that is miraculous, 
 can have murdered and robbed Von Behrling?" 
 
 "In London, too," Louise murmured. "It is not 
 Vienna, this, or Belgrade." 
 
 "You are right," Bellamy agreed. "London is one 
 of the most law-abiding cities in Europe. Besides, the 
 quarter where the murder occurred is entirely unfre- 
 quented by the criminal classes. It is simply a region of 
 great banks and the offices of merchant princes." 
 
 "Is it possible that there is some one else who knew 
 about that document?" Louise asked, "some one 
 else who has been watching Von Behrling?" 
 
 Bellamy shook his head. 
 
 "How can that be? Besides, if any one else were 
 really on his track, they must have believed that he had 
 parted with it to me. I shall go back now to Downing 
 Street to ask for a letter to the Chief of Scotland Yard. 
 If anything comes out, I must have plenty of warning." 
 
 "And I," she said, with an approving nod, "shall go 
 back to bed again. These days are too strenuous for me. 
 Won't you stay and take your coffee with me?" 
 
 Bellamy held her hand for a moment in his. 
 
 "Dear," he said, "I would stay, but you understand, 
 don't you, what a maze this is into which we have wan- 
 dered. Von Behrling has been murdered by some person 
 who seems to have dropped from the skies. W T hoever 
 they may be, they have in their possession my twenty 
 thousand pounds and the packet which should have been 
 mine. I must trace them if I can, Louise. It is a poor 
 chance, but I must do my best. I myself am of the opinion
 
 go HAVOC 
 
 that Von Behrling was murdered for the money, and for 
 the money only. If so, that packet may be in the hands of 
 people who have no idea what use to make of it. They 
 may even destroy it. If Streuss returns and you are forced 
 to see him, be careful. Remember, we have the document 
 we are hesitating. So long as he believes that it is in 
 our possession, he will not look elsewhere." 
 
 "I will be careful," Louise promised, with her arms 
 around his neck. "And, dear, take care. When I think 
 of poor Rudolph Von Behrling, I tremble, also, for you. 
 It seems to me that your danger is no less than his." 
 
 "I do not go about with twenty thousand pounds in my 
 pocket-book," with a smile. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "No, but Streuss believes that you have the document 
 which he is pledged to recover. Be careful that they do 
 not lead you into a trap. They are not above anything, 
 these men. I heard once of a Bulgarian in Vienna who 
 was tortured tortured almost to death before he 
 spoke. Then they thrust him into a lunatic asylum. 
 Remember, dear, they have no consciences and no pity." 
 
 "We are in London," he reminded her. 
 
 " So was Von Behrling," she answered quickly, 
 "not only in London but in a safe part of London. Yet 
 he is dead." 
 
 "It was not their doing," he declared. "In their own 
 country, they have the whole machinery of their wonder- 
 ful police system at their backs, and no fear of the law 
 in their hearts. Here they must needs go cautiously. I 
 don't think you need be afraid," he added, smiling, as 
 he opened the door. "I think I can promise you that if 
 you will do me the honor we will sup together to-night." 
 
 "You must fetch me from the Opera House," Louise
 
 I 
 
 BARON DE STREUSS' PROPOSAL 91 
 
 insisted. " It is a bargain. I have suffered enough neglect 
 at your hands. One thing, David, where do you go 
 first from here?" 
 
 "To find the man," Bellamy answered gravely, "who 
 was watching Von Behrling when he left me. If any man 
 in England knows anything of the murder, it must be he. 
 He should be at my rooms by now."
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 STEPHEN LAVERICK'S CONSCIENCE 
 
 STEPHEN LAVERICK was a bachelor his friends called 
 him an incorrigible one. He had a small but pleasantly 
 situated suite of rooms in Whitehall Court, looking out 
 upon the river. His habits were almost monotonous in 
 their regularity, and the morning following his late night 
 in the city was no exception to the general rule. At eight 
 o'clock, the valet attached to the suite knocked at his 
 door and informed him that his bath was ready. He 
 awoke at once from a sound sleep, sat up in bed, and 
 remembered the events of the preceding evening. 
 
 At first he was inclined to doubt that slowly stirring 
 effort of memory. He was a man of unromantic tempera- 
 ment, unimaginative, and by no means of an adventurous 
 turn of mind. He sought naturally for the most reason- 
 able explanation of this strange picture, which no effort 
 of his will could dismiss from his memory. It was a dream, 
 of course. But the dream did not fade. Slowly it spread 
 itself out so that he could no longer doubt. He knew 
 very well as he sat there on the edge of his bed that the 
 thing was truth. He, Stephen Laverick, a man hitherto 
 of upright character, with a reputation of which un- 
 consciously he was proud, had robbed a dead man, had 
 looked into the burning eyes of his murderer, had stolen 
 away with twenty thousand pounds of someone else's 
 money. Morally, at any rate, probably legally as well, 
 he was a thief. A glimpse inside his safe on the part
 
 STEPHEN LAVERICK'S CONSCIENCE 93 
 
 of an astute detective might very easily bring him under 
 the grave suspicion of being a criminal of altogether 
 deeper dye. 
 
 Stephen Laverick was, in his way, something of a phi- 
 losopher. In the cold daylight, with the sound of the water 
 running into his bath, this deed which he had done seemed 
 to him foolish and reprehensible. Nevertheless, he realized 
 the absolute finality of his action. The thing was done; 
 he must make the best of it. Behaving in every way like 
 a sensible man, he did not send for the newspapers and 
 search hysterically for their account of last night's tragedy, 
 but took his bath as usual, dressed with more than ordinary 
 care, and sat down to his breakfast before he even un- 
 folded the paper. The item for which he searched oc- 
 cupied by no means so prominent a position as he had 
 expected. It appeared under one of the leading head- 
 lines, but it consisted of only a few words. He read them 
 with interest but without emotion. Afterwards he turned 
 to the Stock Exchange quotations and made notes of a 
 few prices in which he was interested. 
 
 He completed in leisurely fashion an excellent break- 
 fast and followed his usual custom of walking along the 
 Embankment as far as the Royal Hotel, where he called 
 a taxicab and drove to his offices. A little crowd had 
 gathered around the end of the passage which led from 
 Crooked Friars, and Laverick himself leaned forward 
 and looked curiously at the spot where the body of the 
 murdered man had lain. It seemed hard to him to recon- 
 struct last night's scene in his mind now that the narrow 
 street was filled with hurrying men and a stream of vehicles 
 blocked every inch of the roadway. In his early morning 
 mood the thing was impossible. In a moment or two he 
 paid his driver and dismissed him.
 
 94 HAVOC 
 
 He fancied that a certain relief was visible among his 
 clerks when he opened the door at precisely his usual 
 time and with a cheerful "Good-morning!" made his 
 way into the private office. He lit his customary cigarette 
 and dealt rapidly with the correspondence which was 
 brought in to him by his head-clerk. Afterwards, as soon 
 as he was alone, he opened the safe, thrust the contents 
 of that inner drawer into his breast-pocket, and took up 
 once more his hat and gloves. 
 
 "I am going around to the bank," he told his clerk as 
 he passed out. " I shall be back in half-an-hour per- 
 haps less." 
 
 "Very good, sir," the man answered. "Will Mr. 
 Morrison be here this morning?" 
 
 Laverick hesitated. 
 
 "No, Mr. Morrison will not be here to-day." 
 
 It was only a few steps to his bankers, and his request 
 for an interview with the manager was immediately 
 granted. The latter received him kindly but with a certain 
 restraint. There are not many secrets in the city, and 
 Morrison's big plunge on a particular mining share, not- 
 withstanding its steady drop, had been freely commented 
 upon. 
 
 "What can I do for you, Mr. Laverick?" the banker 
 asked. 
 
 " I am not sure," answered Laverick. " To tell you the 
 truth, I am in a somewhat singular position." 
 
 The banker nodded. He had not a doubt but that he 
 understood exactly what that position was. 
 
 "You have perhaps heard," Laverick continued slowly, 
 "that my late partner, Mr. Morrison, 
 
 "Late partner?" the manager interrupted. 
 
 Laverick assented.
 
 STEPHEN LAVERICK'S CONSCIENCE 95 
 
 "We had a few words last night," he explained, "and 
 Mr. Morrison left the office with an understanding between 
 us that he should not return. You will receive a formal 
 intimation of that during the course of the next day or 
 so. We will revert to the matter presently, if you wish. 
 My immediate business w r ith you is to discuss the fact that 
 I have to provide something like twenty thousand pounds 
 to-day if I decide to take up the purchases of stock which 
 Morrison has made." 
 
 "You understand the position, of course, Mr. Laverick,, 
 if you fail to do so ?" the manager remarked gravely. 
 
 "Naturally," Laverick answered. "I am quite aware 
 of the fact that Morrison acted on behalf of the firm and 
 that I am responsible for his transactions. He has plunged 
 pretty deeply, though, a great deal more deeply than our 
 capital warranted. I may add that I had not the slightest 
 idea as to the extent of his dealings." 
 
 The bank manager adopted a sympathetic but serious 
 attitude. 
 
 "Twenty thousand pounds," he declared, "is a great 
 deal of money, Mr. Laverick." 
 
 "It is a great deal of money," Laverick admitted. "I 
 am here to ask you to lend it to me." 
 
 The bank manager raised his eyebrows. 
 
 "My dear Mr. Laverick!" he exclaimed reproachfully. 
 
 "Upon unimpeachable security," Laverick continued. 
 
 The bank manager w r as conscious that he had allowed 
 a little start of surprise to escape him, and bit his lip 
 with annoyance. It was entirely contrary to his tenets 
 to display at any time during office hours any sort of 
 emotion. 
 
 "Unimpeachable security," he repeated. "Of course, 
 if you have that to offer, Mr. Laverick, although the sum
 
 9 6 HAVOC 
 
 is a large one, it is our business to see what we can do for 
 you." 
 
 " My security is of the best," Laverick declared grimly. 
 "I have bank-notes here, Mr. Fenwick, for twenty thou- 
 sand pounds." 
 
 The bank manager was again guilty of an unprofessional 
 action. He whistled softly under his breath. A very 
 respectable client he had always considered Mr. Stephen 
 Laverick, but he had certainly never suspected him of 
 being able to produce at a pinch such evidence of means. 
 Laverick smoothed out the notes and laid them upon the 
 table. 
 
 " Mr. Fenwick," he said, " I believe I am right in assum- 
 ing that when one comes to one's bankers, one enters, as 
 it were, into a confessional. I feel convinced that nothing 
 which I say to you will be repeated outside this office, or 
 will be allowed to dwell in your own mind except with 
 reference to this particular transaction between you and 
 me. I have the right, have I not, to take that for granted ? " 
 
 "Most certainly," the banker agreed. 
 
 "From a strictly ethical point of view," Laverick 
 went on, " this money is not mine. I hold it in trust for its 
 owner, but I hold it without any conditions. I have power 
 to make what use I wish of it, and I choose to-day to use 
 it on my own behalf. Whether I am justified or not is 
 scarcely a matter, I presume, which concerns this excellent 
 banking establishment over which you preside so ably. 
 I do not pay these bank-notes in to my account and ask 
 you to credit me with twenty thousand pounds. I ask 
 you to allow me to deposit them here for seven days as 
 security against an overdraft. You can then advance me 
 enough money to meet my engagements of to-day." 
 
 The banker took up the notes and looked them through,
 
 STEPHEN LAVERICK'S CONSCIENCE 97 
 
 one by one. They were very crisp, very new, and abso- 
 lutely genuine. 
 
 "This is somewhat an extraordinary proceeding, Mr. 
 Laverick," he said. 
 
 " I have no doubt that it must seem so to you," Laverick 
 admitted. "At the same time, there the money is. You 
 can run no risk. If I am exceeding my moral right in 
 making use of these notes, it is I who will have to pay 
 Will you do as I ask?" 
 
 The banker hesitated. The transaction was somewhat 
 a peculiar one, but on the face of it there could be no pos- 
 sible risk. At the same time, there was something about 
 it which he could not understand. 
 
 "Your wish, Mr. Laverick," he remarked, looking at 
 him thoughtfully, "seems to be to keep these notes out 
 of circulation." 
 
 Laverick returned his gaze without flinching. 
 
 " In a sense, that is so," he assented. 
 
 " On the whole," the banker declared, " I should prefer 
 to credit them to your account in the usual way." 
 
 "I am sorry," Laverick answered, "but I have a senti- 
 mental feeling about it. I prefer to keep the notes intact. 
 If you cannot follow out my suggestion, I must remove 
 my account at once. This is n't a threat, Mr. Fenwick, 
 you will understand that, I am sure. It is simply a 
 matter of business, and owing to Morrison's speculations 
 I have no time for arguments. I am quite satisfied to re- 
 main in your hands, but my feeling in the matter is exactly 
 as I have stated, and I cannot change. If you are to retain 
 my account, my engagements for to-day must be met 
 precisely in the way I have pointed out." 
 
 The banker excused himself and left the room for a 
 few moments. When he returned, he shrugged his shoul-
 
 9 8 HAVOC 
 
 ders with the air of one who is giving in to an unreason- 
 able client. 
 
 "It shall be as you say, Mr. Laverick," he announced. 
 "The notes are placed upon deposit. Your engagements 
 to-day up to twenty thousand pounds shall be duly 
 honored." 
 
 Laverick shook hands with him, talked for a moment 
 or two about indifferent matters, and strolled back towards 
 his office. He had rather the sense of a man who moves 
 in a dream, who is living, somehow, in a life which does n't 
 belong to him. He was doing the impossible. He knew 
 very well that his name was in every one's mouth. People 
 were looking at him sympathetically, wondering how he 
 could have been such a fool as to become the victim of an 
 irresponsible speculator. No one ever imagined that he 
 would be able to keep his engagements. And he had 
 done it. The price might be a great one, but he was pre- 
 pared to pay. At any moment the sensational news might 
 be upon the placards, and the whole world might know 
 that the man who had been murdered in Crooked Friars 
 last night had first been robbed of twenty thousand pounds. 
 So far he had felt himself curiously free from anything 
 in the shape of direct apprehensions. Already, however, 
 the shadow was beginning to fall. Even as he entered his 
 office, the sight of a stranger offering office files for sale 
 made him start. He half expected to feel a hand upon 
 his shoulder, a few words whispered in his ear. He set 
 his teeth tight. This was his risk and he must take it. 
 
 For several hours he remained in his office, engaged in 
 a scheme for the redirection of its policy. With the 
 absence of Morrison, too, there were other changes to be 
 made, changes in the nature of the business they were 
 prepared to handle, limits to be fixed. It was not until
 
 STEPHEN LAVERICK'S CONSCIENCE 99 
 
 nearly luncheon time that the telephone, the simultaneous 
 arrival of several clients, and the breathless entry of his 
 own head-clerk rushing in from the house, told him what 
 was going on. 
 
 "'Unions' have taken their turn at last!" the clerk 
 announced, in an excited tone. "They sagged a little 
 this morning, but since eleven they have been going steadily 
 up. Just now there seems to be a boom. Listen." 
 
 Laverick heard the roar of voices in the street, and 
 nodded. He was prepared to be surprised at nothing. 
 
 "They were bound to go within a day or two," he 
 remarked. " Morrison was n't an absolute idiot." 
 
 The luncheon hour passed. The excitement in the 
 city grew. By three o'clock, ten thousand pounds would 
 have covered all of Laverick's engagements. Just before 
 closing-time, it was even doubtful whether he might not 
 have borrowed every penny without security at all. He 
 took it all quite calmly and as a matter of course. He 
 left the office a little earlier than usual, and every man 
 whom he met stopped to slap him on the back and chaff 
 him. He escaped as soon as he could, bought the even- 
 ing papers, found a taxicab, and as soon as he had started 
 spread them open. It was a remarkable proof of the 
 man's self-restraint that at no time during the afternoon 
 had he sent out for one of these early editions. He turned 
 them over now with firm fingers. There was absolutely 
 no fresh news. No one had come forward with any sug- 
 gestion as to the identity of the murdered man. All day 
 long the body had lain in the Mortuary, visited by a con- 
 stant stream of the curious, but presumably unrecognized. 
 Laverick could scarcely believe the words he read. The 
 thing semed ludicrously impossible. The twenty thousand 
 pounds must have come from some one. Why did they
 
 ioo HAVOC 
 
 keep silence? What was the mystery about it? Could it 
 be that they were not in a position to disclose the fact? 
 Curiously enough, this unnatural absence of news inspired 
 him with something which was almost fear. He had 
 taken his risks boldly enough. Now that Fate was play- 
 ing him this unexpectedly good turn, he was conscious of 
 a growing nervousness. Who could he have been, this 
 man ? Whence could he have derived this great sum ? 
 One person at least must know that he had been robbed 
 the man who murdered him must know it. A cold 
 shiver passed through Laverick's veins at the thought. 
 Somewhere in London there must be a man thirsting for 
 his blood, a man who had committed a murder in vain 
 and been robbed of his spoil. 
 
 Laverick had no engagements for that evening, but 
 instead of going to his club he drove straight to his rooms, 
 meaning to change a little early for dinner and go to a 
 theatre. He found there, however, a small boy waiting 
 for him with a note in his hand. It was addressed in 
 pencil only, and his name was printed upon it. 
 
 Laverick tore it open with a haste which he only im- 
 perfectly concealed. There was something ominous to 
 him in those printed characters. Its contents, however, 
 were short enough. 
 
 DEAR LAVERICK, 
 
 I must see you. Come the moment you get this. Come 
 without fail, for your own sake and mine. A. M. 
 
 Laverick looked at the boy. His fingers were trembling, 
 but it was with relief. The note was from Morrison. 
 
 "There is no address here," he remarked. 
 
 "The gent said as I was to take you back with me," 
 the boy answered.
 
 STEPHEN LAVERICK'S CONSCIENCE 101 
 
 "Is it far?" Laverick asked. 
 
 "Close to Red Lion Square," the boy declared. "Not 
 more nor five minutes in one of them taxicabs. The 
 gent said we was to take one. He is in a great hurry to 
 see you." 
 
 Laverick did not hesitate a moment. 
 
 "Very well," he said, "we'll start at once." 
 
 He put on his hat again and waited while the commis- 
 sionaire called them a taxicab. 
 
 "What address?" he asked. 
 
 "Number 7, Theobald Square," the boy said. 
 
 Laverick nodded and repeated the address to the driver. 
 
 "What the dickens can Morrison be doing in a part 
 like that!" he thought, as they passed up Northumber- 
 land Avenue.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ARTHUR MORRISON'S COLLAPSE 
 
 THE Square was a small one, and in a particularly un- 
 savory neighborhood. Laverick, who had once visited 
 his partner's somewhat extensive suite of rooms in Jermyn 
 Street, rang the bell doubtfully. The door was opened 
 almost at once, not by a servant but by a young lady who 
 was obviously expecting him. Before he could open his 
 lips to frame an inquiry, she had closed the door behind 
 him. 
 
 "Will you please come this way?" she said timidly. 
 
 Laverick found himself in a small sitting-room, unex- 
 pectedly neat, and with the plainness of its furniture 
 relieved by certain undeniable traces of some cultured 
 presence. The girl who had followed him stood with her 
 back to the door, a little out of breath. Laverick contem- 
 plated her in surprise. She was under medium height, 
 with small pale face and wonderful dark eyes. Her brown 
 hair was parted in the middle and arranged low down, 
 so that at first, taking into account her obvious nervous- 
 ness, he thought that she was a child. When she spoke, 
 however, he knew that for some reason she was afraid. 
 Her voice was soft and low, but it was the voice of a 
 woman. 
 
 "It is Mr. Laverick, is it not?" she asked, looking at 
 him eagerly. 
 
 "My name is Stephen Laverick," he admitted. "I 
 understood that I should find Mr. Arthur Morrison here."
 
 ARTHUR MORRISON'S COLLAPSE 103 
 
 "Yes," the girl answered, "he sent for you. The note 
 was from him. He is here." 
 
 She made no movement to summon him. She still 
 stood, in fact, with her back to the door. Laverick was 
 distinctly puzzled. He felt himself unable to place this 
 timid, childlike woman, with her terrified face and beauti- 
 ful eyes. He had never heard Morrison speak of having 
 any relations. His presence in such a locality, indeed, 
 was hard to understand unless he had met with an acci- 
 dent. Morrison was one of those young men who would 
 have chosen Hell with a " W" rather than Heaven E. C. 
 
 "I am afraid," Laverick said, "that for some reason 
 or other you are afraid of me. I can assure you that I 
 am quite harmless," he added smiling. "Won't you sit 
 down and tell me what is the matter? Is Mr. Morrison 
 in any trouble?" 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " he is. As for me, I am terrified." 
 
 She came a little away from the door. Laverick was 
 a man who inspired trust. His tone, too, was unusually 
 kind. He had the protective instinct of a big man toward 
 a small woman. 
 
 " Come and tell me all about it," he suggested. " I ex- 
 pected to hear that he had gone abroad." 
 
 "Mr. Laverick," she said, looking up at him tremu- 
 lously. " I was hoping that you could have told me what 
 it was that had come to him." 
 
 "Well, that rather depends," Laverick answered. "We 
 certainly had a terribly anxious time yesterday. Our 
 business has been most unfortunate " 
 
 "Yes, yes!" the girl interrupted. "Please go on. 
 There have been business troubles, then." 
 
 "Rather," Laverick continued. "Last night they 
 reached such a pitch that I gave Morrison some money
 
 io 4 HAVOC 
 
 and it was agreed that he should leave the firm and try 
 his luck somewhere else. I quite understood that he was 
 going abroad." 
 
 The girl seemed, for some reason, relieved. 
 
 "There was something, then," she said, half to herself. 
 " There was something. Oh, I am glad of that ! You 
 were angry with him, perhaps, Mr. Laverick?" 
 
 Laverick stood with his back to the little fireplace and 
 with his hands behind him a commanding figure in 
 the tiny room full of feminine trifles. He looked a great 
 deal more at his ease than he really was. 
 
 "Perhaps I was inclined to be short-tempered," he 
 admitted. "You see, to be frank with you, the depart- 
 ment of our business that was going wrong was the one 
 over which Morrison has had sole control. He had 
 entered into certain speculations which I considered un- 
 justifiable. To-day, however, matters took an unexpected 
 turn for the better." 
 
 Almost as he spoke his face clouded. Morrison, of 
 course, would be triumphant. Perhaps he would even 
 expect to be reinstated. For many reasons, this was a 
 thing which Laverick did not desire. 
 
 " Now tell me," he continued, " what is the matter with 
 Morrison, and why has he sent for me, and, if you will 
 pardon my saying so, why is he here instead of in his 
 own rooms ? " 
 
 " I will explain," she began softly. 
 
 "You will please explain sitting down," he said firmly. 
 
 "And don't look so terrified," he added, with a little 
 laugh. "I can assure you that I am not going to eat you, 
 or anything of that sort. You make me feel quite uncom- 
 fortable." 
 
 She smiled for the first time, and Laverick thought
 
 ARTHUR MORRISON'S COLLAPSE 105 
 
 that he had never seen anything so wonderful as the 
 change in her features. The strained rigidity passed 
 away. An altogether softer light gleamed in her wonder- 
 ful eyes. She was certainly by far the prettiest child he 
 had ever seen. As yet he could not take her altogether 
 seriously. 
 
 "Thank you," she said, sinking down upon the arm of 
 an easy-chair. "First of all, then, Arthur is here because 
 he is my brother." 
 
 "Your brother!" Laverick repeated wonderingly. 
 
 Somehow or other, he had never associated Morrison 
 with relations. Besides, this meant that she must be of 
 his race. There was nothing in her face to denote it 
 except the darkness of her eyes, and that nameless charm 
 of manner, a sort of ultra-sensitiveness, which belongs 
 sometimes to the highest type of Jews. It was not a quality, 
 Laverick thought, which he should have associated with 
 Morrison's sister. 
 
 "My brother, in a way," she resumed. "Arthur's 
 father was a widower and my mother was a widow when 
 they were married. You are surprised?" 
 
 "There is no reason why I should be," he answered, 
 curiously relieved at her last statement. "Your brother 
 and I have been connected in business for some years. 
 We have seen very little of one another outside." 
 
 "I dare say," she continued, still timidly, "that Arthur's 
 friends would not be your friends, and that he would n't 
 care for the same sort of things. You see, my mother is 
 dead and also his father, and as we are n't really related 
 at all, I cannot expect that he would come to see me very 
 often. Last night, though, quite late long after I had 
 gone to bed he rang the bell here. I was frightened, 
 for just now I am all alone, and my servant only comes in
 
 io6 HAVOC 
 
 the morning. So I looked out of the window and I saw 
 him on the pavement, huddled up against the door. I 
 hurried down and let him in. Mr. Laverick," she went 
 on, with an appealing glance at him, "I have never seen 
 any one look like it. He was terrified to death. Some- 
 thing seemed to have happened which had taken away 
 from him even the power of speech. He pushed past me 
 into this room, threw himself into that chair," she added, 
 pointing across the room, "and he sobbed and beat his 
 hands upon his knees as though he were a woman in a fit 
 of hysterics. His clothes were all untidy, he was as pale 
 as death, and his eyes looked as though they were ready 
 to start out of his head." 
 
 "You must indeed have been frightened," Laverick 
 said softly. 
 
 " Frightened ! I shall never forget it ! I did not sleep 
 all night. He would tell me nothing he has scarcely 
 spoken a sensible word. Early this morning I persuaded 
 him to go upstairs, and made him lie down. He has taken 
 two draughts which I bought from the chemist, but he 
 has not slept. Every now and then he tries to get up, 
 but in a minute or two he throws himself down on the 
 bed again and hides his face. If any one rings at the 
 bell, he shrieks. If he hears a footfall in the street, even, 
 he calls out for me. Mr. Laverick, I have never been so 
 frightened in my life. I did n't know whom to send for 
 or what to do. When he wrote that note to you I was 
 so relieved. You can't imagine how glad I am to think 
 you have come!" 
 
 Laverick's eyes were full of sympathy. One could see 
 that the scene of last night had risen up again before her 
 eyes. She was shrinking back, and the terror was upon 
 her once more. He moved over to her side, and with an
 
 ARTHUR MORRISON'S COLLAPSE 107 
 
 impulse which, when he thought of it afterwards, amazed 
 him, laid his hand gently upon her shoulder. 
 
 "Don't worry yourself thinking about it," he said. "I 
 will talk to your brother. We did have words, I'll admit, 
 last night, but there was n't the slightest reason why it 
 should have upset him in this way. Things in the city 
 were shocking yesterday, but they have improved a great 
 deal to-day. Let me go upstairs and I'll try and pump 
 some courage into him." 
 
 "You are so kind," she murmured, suddenly dropping 
 her hands from before her face and looking up at him 
 with shining eyes, " so very kind. Will you come, 
 then?" 
 
 She rose and he followed her out of the room, up the 
 stairs, and into a tiny bedroom. Laverick had no time 
 to look around, but it seemed to him, notwithstanding 
 the cheap white furniture and very ordinary appoint- 
 ments, that the same note of dainty femininity pervaded 
 this little apartment as the one below. 
 
 "It is my room," she said shyly. "There is no other 
 properly furnished, and I thought that he might sleep 
 upon the bed." 
 
 "Perhaps he is asleep now," Laverick whispered. 
 
 Even as he spoke, the dark figure stretched upon the 
 sheets sprang into a sitting posture. Laverick was con- 
 scious of a distinct shock. It was Morrison, still wearing 
 the clothes in which he had left the office, his collar crushed 
 out of all shape, his tie vanished. His black hair, usually 
 so shiny and perfectly arranged, was all disordered. Out 
 of his staring eyes flashed an expression which one sees 
 seldom in life, an expression of real and mortal terror. 
 
 "Who is it?" he cried out, and even his voice was 
 unrecognizable. " Who is that ? What do you want ?"
 
 io8 HAVOC 
 
 " It is I Laverick," Laverick answered. " What on 
 earth is the matter with you, man ?" 
 
 Morrison drew a quick breath. Some part of the terror 
 seemed to leave his face, but he was still an alarming- 
 looking object. Laverick quietly opened the door and laid 
 his hand upon the girl's shoulder. 
 
 "Will you leave us alone?" he asked. "I will come 
 and talk to you afterwards, if I may." 
 
 She nodded understandingly, and passed out. Laverick 
 closed the door and came up to the bedside. 
 
 " What in the name of thunder has come over you, Mor- 
 rison?" he said. "Are you ill, or what is it?" 
 
 Morrison opened his lips opened them twice 
 without any sort of sound issuing. 
 
 "This is absurd!" Laverick exclaimed protestingly. 
 "I have been feeling worried myself, but there's nothing 
 so terrifying in losing one's money, after all. As a matter 
 of fact, things are altogether better in the city to-day. 
 You made a big mistake in taking us out of our depth, 
 but we are going to pull through, after all. ' Unions ' 
 have been going up all day." 
 
 Laverick's presence, and the sound of his even, matter- 
 of-fact tone, seemed to act like a tonic upon his late partner. 
 He made no reference, however, to Laverick's words. 
 
 "You got my note?" he asked hoarsely. 
 
 "Naturally I got it," Laverick answered impatiently, 
 "and I came at once. Try and pull yourself together. 
 Sit up and tell me what you are doing here, frightening 
 your sister out of her life." 
 
 Morrison groaned. 
 
 " I came here," he muttered, " because I dared not go 
 to my own rooms. I was afraid !" 
 
 Laverick struggled with the contempt he felt.
 
 ARTHUR MORRISON'S COLLAPSE 109 
 
 " Man alive," he exclaimed, " what was there to be afraid 
 of?" 
 
 "You don't know!" Morrison faltered. "You don't 
 know!" 
 
 Then, for the first time, it occurred to Laverick that 
 perhaps the financial crisis in their affairs was not the only 
 thing which had reduced his late partner to this hopeless 
 state. He looked at him narrowly. 
 
 "Where did you go last night," he asked, "when you 
 left me?" 
 
 "Nowhere," Morrison gasped. "I came here." 
 
 Laverick made a space for himself at the end of the 
 bed, and sat down. 
 
 " Look here," he said, " it's no use sending for me unless 
 you mean to tell me everything. Have you been getting 
 yourself into any trouble apart from our affairs, or is there 
 anything in connection with them which I don't know?" 
 
 Again Morrison opened his lips, and again, for some 
 reason or other, he remained speechless. Then a certain 
 fear came also upon Laverick. There was something in. 
 Morrison's state which was in itself terrifying. 
 
 "You had better tell me all about it," Laverick per- 
 sisted, "whatever it is. I will help you if I can." 
 
 Morrison shook his head. There was a glass of water 
 by his side. He thrust his finger into it and passed it 
 across his lips. They were dry, almost cracking. 
 
 "Look here," he said, "I've got a breakdown that's 
 what's the matter with me. My nerves were never good. 
 I'm afraid of going mad. The anxiety of the last few 
 weeks has been too much for me. I want to get out of 
 the country quickly, and I don't know how to manage 
 it. I can't think. Directly I try to think my head goes 
 round."
 
 no HAVOC 
 
 "There is nothing in the world to prevent your going 
 away," Laverick answered. "It is the simplest matter 
 possible. Even if we had gone under to-day, no one 
 could have stopped your going wherever you chose to 
 go. Ruin, even if it had been ruin, and I told you just 
 now that business was better, is not a crime. Pull 
 yourself together, for Heaven's sake, man ! You should 
 be ashamed to come here and frighten that poor little 
 girl downstairs almost to death." 
 
 Morrison gripped his partner's arm. 
 
 "You must do as I ask," he declared hoarsely. "It 
 does n't matter about prices being better. I want to get 
 away. You must help me." 
 
 Laverick looked at him steadily. Morrison was an ordi- 
 nary young man of his type, something of a swaggerer, 
 probably at heart a coward. But this was no ordinary 
 fear not even the ordinary fear of a coward. Laverick's 
 face became graver. There was something else, then ! 
 
 "I will get you out of the country if I can," said he. 
 " There is no difficulty about it at all unless you are con- 
 cealing something from me. You can catch a fast steamer 
 to-morrow, either for South Africa or New York, but 
 before I make any definite plans, had n't you better tell 
 me exactly what happened last night?" 
 
 Once more Morrison's lips parted without the ability 
 to frame words. Then a feeble moan escaped him. He 
 threw up his hands and his head fell back. The ghastli- 
 ness of his face spread almost to his lips, and he sank 
 back among the pillows. Laverick strode across the 
 room to the door. 
 
 "Are you anywhere about?" he called out. 
 
 The girl was by his side in a moment. 
 
 "There is nothing to be alarmed at," he said, "but
 
 ARTHUR MORRISON'S COLLAPSE in 
 
 your brother has fainted. Bring me some sal volatile 
 if you have it, and I think that you had better run out 
 and get a doctor. I will stay with him. I know exactly 
 what to do." 
 
 She pointed to the dressing-table, where a little bottle 
 was standing, and ran downstairs without a word. Lav- 
 erick mixed some of the spirit, and moved over to the side 
 of the fainting man.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 MAVERICK'S PARTNER FLEES 
 
 THE doctor, a grave, incurious person, arrived within a 
 few minutes to find Morrison already conscious but abso- 
 lutely exhausted. He felt his patient's pulse, prescribed 
 a draught, and followed Laverick down into the sitting- 
 room. 
 
 "An ordinary case of nervous exhaustion," he pro- 
 nounced. "The patient appears to have had a very 
 severe shock lately. He will be all right with proper diet 
 and treatment, and a complete rest. I will call again 
 to-morrow." 
 
 He accepted the fee which Laverick slipped into his 
 hand, and took his departure. Once more Laverick 
 was alone with the girl, who had followed them down- 
 stairs. 
 
 "There is nothing to be alarmed at, you see," he re- 
 marked. 
 
 " It is not his health which frightens me. I am sure 
 I am quite sure that he has something upon his mind. 
 Did he tell you nothing?" 
 
 "Nothing at all," Laverick answered, with an inward 
 sense of thankfulness. "To tell you the truth, though, 
 I am afraid you are right and that he did get into some 
 sort of trouble last night. He was just about to tell me 
 something when he fainted." 
 
 Upstairs they could hear him moaning. The girl listened 
 with pitiful face.
 
 LAVERICK'S PARTNER FLEES 113 
 
 " What am I to do ?" she asked. " I cannot leave him 
 like this, and if I am not at the theatre in twenty minutes, 
 I shall be fined." 
 
 "The theatre?" Laverick repeated. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "I am on the stage," she said, "only a chorus girl 
 at the Universal, worse luck. Still, they don't allow us 
 to stay away, and I can't afford to lose my place." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you have been keeping your- 
 self here, then?" Laverick asked bluntly. 
 
 "Of course," she answered. "I do not like to be a 
 burden on any one, and after all, you see, Arthur and I 
 are really not related at all. He has always told me, too, 
 that times have been so bad lately." 
 
 Laverick was on the point of telling' her that bad though 
 they had been Arthur Morrison had never drawn less 
 than fifteen hundred a year, but he checked himself. It 
 was not his business to interfere. 
 
 "I think," he said, "that your brother ought to have 
 provided for you. He could have done so with very little 
 effort." 
 
 "But what am I to do now?" she asked him. "If I 
 am absent, I shall lose my place." 
 
 Laverick thought for a moment. 
 
 " If you went round there and told them," he suggested, 
 " would that make any difference ? I could stay until you 
 came back." 
 
 " Do you mind ? " she asked eagerly. " It would be so 
 kind of you." 
 
 "Not at all," he answered. "Perhaps you would be 
 good enough to bring a taxicab back, and I could take 
 it on to my rooms. Take one from here, if you can find 
 it. There are always some at the corner."
 
 ii4 HAVOC 
 
 . " I 'd love to," she answered. " I must run upstairs and 
 get my hat and coat." 
 
 He watched her go up on tiptoe for fear of disturbing 
 her brother. Her feet seemed almost unearthly in the 
 lightness of their pressure. Not a board creaked. She 
 seemed to float down to him in a most becoming little hat 
 but a shockingly shabby jacket, of whose deficiencies she 
 seemed wholly unaware. Her lips were parted once more 
 in a smile. 
 
 "He is fast asleep and breathing quite regularly," she 
 announced. " It is nice of you to stay." 
 
 He looked at her almost jealously. 
 
 "Do you know," he said, "you ought not to go about 
 alone?" 
 
 She laughed, softly but heartily. 
 
 "Have you any idea how old I am?" 
 
 "I took you for fourteen when I came inside," he 
 answered. "Afterwards I thought you might be sixteen. 
 Later on, it seemed to me possible that you were eighteen. 
 I am absolutely certain that you are not more than 
 nineteen." 
 
 "That shows how little you know about it. I am 
 twenty, and I am quite used to going about alone. Will 
 you sit upstairs or here? I am so sorry that I have 
 nothing to offer you." 
 
 "Thanks, I need nothing. I think I will sit upstairs 
 in case he wakes." 
 
 She nodded and stole out, closing the door behind her 
 noiselessly. Laverick watched her from the window until 
 she was out of sight, moving without any appearance of 
 haste, yet with an incredible swiftness. When she had 
 turned the corner, he went slowly upstairs and into the 
 room where Morrison still lay asleep. He drew a chair
 
 LAVERICK'S PARTNER FLEES 115 
 
 to the bedside and leaning forward opened out the even- 
 ing paper. The events of the last hour or so had com- 
 pletely blotted out from his mind, for the time being, his 
 own expedition into the world of tragical happenings. He 
 glanced at the sleeping man, then opened his paper. 
 There was very little fresh news except that this time the 
 fact was mentioned that upon the body of the murdered 
 man was discovered a sum larger than was at first sup- 
 posed. It seemed doubtful, therefore, whether robbery, 
 after all, was the motive of the crime, especially as it took 
 place in a neighborhood which was by no means infested 
 with criminals. There was a suggestion of political motive, 
 a reference to the " Black Hand," concerning whose doings 
 the papers had been full since the murder of a well-known 
 detective a few weeks ago. But apart from this there was 
 nothing fresh. 
 
 Laverick folded up the paper and leaned back in his 
 chair. The strain of the last twenty-four hours was be- 
 ginning to tell even upon his robust constitution. The 
 atmosphere of the room, too, was close. He leaned back 
 in his chair and was suddenly weary. Perhaps he dozed. 
 At any rate, the whisper which called him back to reali- 
 zation of where he was, came to him so unexpectedly that 
 he sat up with a sudden start. 
 
 Morrison's eyes were open, he had raised himself on his 
 elbow, his lips were parted. His manner was quieter, 
 but there were black lines deep engraven under his eyes, 
 in which there still shone something of that haunting 
 fear. 
 
 "Laverick!" he repeated hoarsely. 
 
 Laverick, fully awakened now, leaned towards him. 
 
 "Hullo," he said, "are you feeling more like yourself?" 
 
 Morrison nodded.
 
 n6 HAVOC 
 
 "Yes," he admitted, "I am feeling better. How 
 did you come here? I can't remember anything." 
 
 "You sent for me," Laverick answered. "I arrived to 
 find you pretty well in a state of collapse. Your sister 
 has gone round to the theatre to ask them to excuse her 
 this evening." 
 
 "I remember now that I sent for you," Morrison con- 
 tinued. "Tell me, has any one been around at the office 
 asking after me?" 
 
 "No one particular," Laverick answered, "no one 
 at all that I can think of. There were one or two inquiries 
 through the telephone, but they were all ordinary business 
 matters." 
 
 The man on the bed drew a little breath which sounded 
 like a sigh of relief. 
 
 "I have made a fool of myself, Laverick," he said 
 hoarsely. 
 
 "You are making a worse one of yourself by lying 
 here and giving way," Laverick declared, " besides fright- 
 ening your sister half to death. 
 
 Morrison passed his hand across his forehead. 
 
 " We talked some time ago, " he went on, " about 
 my getting away. You promised that you would help 
 me. You said that I could get off to Africa or America 
 to-morrow." 
 
 "Not the slightest difficulty about that," Laverick 
 answered. "There are half-a-dozen steamers sailing, at 
 least. At the same time, I suppose I ought to remind you 
 that the firm is going to pull through. Mind don't 
 take this unkindly but the truth is best I will not have 
 you back again. There may have to be a more definite 
 readjustment of our affairs now, but the old business is 
 finished with."
 
 LAVERICK'S PARTNER FLEES 117 
 
 "I don't want to come back," Morrison murmured. 
 " I have had enough of the city for the rest of my life. I 'd 
 rather get away somewhere and make a fresh start. You '11 
 help me, Laverick, won't you?" 
 
 "Yes, I will help you," Laverick promised. 
 
 "You were always a good sort," Morrison continued, 
 " much too good for me. It was a rotten partnership for 
 you. We could never have pulled together." 
 
 " Let that go," Laverick interrupted. " If you really mean 
 getting away, that simplifies matters, of course. Have you 
 made any plans at all? Where do you want to go?" 
 
 "To New York," answered Morrison; "New York 
 would suit me best. There is money to be made there if 
 one has something to make a start with." 
 
 "There will be some more money to come to you," 
 Laverick answered, " probably a great deal more. I shall 
 place our affairs in the hands of an accountant, and shall 
 have an estimate drawn up to yesterday. You shall have 
 every penny that is due to you. You have quite enough, 
 however, to get there with. I will see to your ticket to- 
 night, if possible. When you've arrived you can cable 
 me your address, or you can decide where you will stay 
 before you leave, and I will send you a further remittance." 
 
 "You're a good sort, Laverick," Morrison mumbled. 
 
 " You 'd better give me the key of your rooms," Laverick 
 continued, "and I will go back and put together some of 
 your things. I suppose you will not want much to go away 
 with. The rest can be sent on afterwards. And what 
 about your letters?" 
 
 Morrison, with a sudden movement, threw himself 
 almost out of the bed. He clutched at Laverick's shoulder 
 frantically. 
 
 "Don't go near my rooms, Laverick!" he begged.
 
 u8 HAVOC 
 
 " Promise me that you won't ! I don't want any letters ! 
 I don't want any of my things !" 
 
 Laverick was dumfounded. 
 
 " You mean you want to go away without 
 
 "I mean just what I have said," Morrison continued 
 hysterically. "If you go there they will watch you, they 
 will follow you, they will find out where I am. I should 
 be there now but for that." 
 
 Laverick was silent for a moment. The matter was 
 becoming serious. 
 
 " Very well," he said, " I will do as you say. I will not 
 go near your rooms. I will get you a few things some- 
 where to start with." 
 
 Morrison sank back upon his pillow. 
 
 "Thank you, Laverick," he said; "thank you. I wish 
 I wish " 
 
 His voice seemed to die away. Laverick glanced towards 
 him, wondering at the unfinished sentence. Once again 
 the man's face seemed to be convulsed with horror. He 
 flung himself face downward upon the bed and tore at the 
 sheets with both his hands. 
 
 "Don't be a fool," Laverick said sternly. "If you've 
 anything on your mind apart from business, tell me about 
 it and I'll do what I can to help you." 
 
 Morrison made no reply. He was sobbing now like a 
 child. Laverick rose to his feet and went to the window. 
 What was to be done with such a creature ! When he 
 got back, Morrison had raised himself once more into a 
 sitting posture. His appearance was absolutely spectral. 
 
 "Laverick," he said feebly, "there is something else, 
 but I cannot tell you I cannot tell any one." 
 
 "Just as you please, of course," Laverick answered* 
 " I am simply anxious to help you."
 
 LAVERICK'S PARTNER FLEES 119 
 
 "You can do that as it is!" Morrison exclaimed 
 feverishly. " You must promise me something promise 
 that if any one asks for me to-morrow before I get away, 
 you will not tell them where I am. Say you suppose that 
 I am at my rooms, or that I have gone into the country 
 for a few days. Say that you are expecting me back. 
 Don't let any one know that I have gone abroad, until 
 I am safely away. And then don't tell a soul where I have 
 gone." 
 
 "Have you been up to any tricks with your friends?" 
 Laverick asked sternly. 
 
 " I have n't I swear that I have n't," Morrison de- 
 clared. "It's something quite outside business quite 
 outside business altogether." 
 
 " Very well," answered Laverick, " I will promise what 
 you have asked, then. Listen here is your sister back 
 again," he added, as he heard the taxicab stop outside. 
 "Pull yourself together and don't frighten her so much. 
 I am going down to meet her. I shall tell her that you are 
 better. Try and buck up when she comes in to see you." 
 
 "I'll do my best," Morrison said humbly. "If you 
 knew ! If you only knew !" 
 
 He began to sob again. Laverick left the room and, 
 descending the stairs, met the girl in the hall. Her white 
 face questioned him before her lips had time to frame the 
 speech. 
 
 " Your brother is very much better," Laverick said. " I 
 am sure that you need not be anxious about him." 
 
 "I am so glad," she murmured. "They let me off but 
 I had to pay a fine. I had no idea before that I was so 
 Important. Shall I go to him now?" 
 
 "One moment," Laverick answered, holding open the 
 door of the sitting-room. " Miss Morrison," he went on, -
 
 120 HAVOC 
 
 "Miss Leneveu is my name," she interrupted. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Your brother evidently has some- 
 thing on his mind apart from business. I am afraid that 
 he has been getting into some sort of trouble. I don't 
 think there is any object in bothering him about it, but 
 the great thing is to get him away." 
 
 "You will help?" she begged. 
 
 "I will help, certainly," Laverick answered. "I have 
 promised to. You must see that he is ready to leave here 
 at seven o'clock to-morrow morning. He wants to go to 
 New York, and the special to catch the German boat will 
 leave Waterloo somewhere about eight to eight-thirty." 
 
 "But his clothes!" she cried. "How can he be ready 
 by then?" 
 
 "Your brother does not wish me or any one to go near 
 his rooms or to send him any of his belongings," Laverick 
 continued quietly. 
 
 "But how strange!" the girl exclaimed. "Do you 
 mean to say, then, that he is going without anything?" 
 
 " I am afraid," Laverick said kindly, " that we must 
 take it for granted that your brother has got mixed up in 
 some undesirable business or other. He is nervously 
 anxious to keep his whereabouts an entire secret. He has 
 been asking me whether any one has been to the office 
 to inquire for him. Under the circumstances, I think the 
 best thing we can do is to humor him. I shall buy him 
 before to-morrow morning a cheap dressing-case and a 
 ready-made suit of clothes, and a few things for the voyage. 
 Then I shall send a cab for you both at seven o'clock and 
 meet you at the station. 
 
 "You are very kind," she murmured. "What should I 
 have done without you? Oh, I cannot think!" 
 
 The protective instinct in the man was suddenly strong.
 
 LAVERICK'S PARTNER FLEES 121 
 
 Naturally unaffectionate, he was conscious of an almost 
 overmastering desire to take her hands in his, even to 
 lift her up and kiss away the tears which shone in her 
 deep, childlike eyes. He reminded himself that she was 
 a stranger, that her appearance of youth was a delusion, 
 that she could only construe such an action as a liberty, 
 an impertinence, offered under circumstances for which 
 there could be no possible excuse. 
 
 He moved away towards the door. 
 
 " Naturally," he said, " I am glad to be of use to your 
 brother. You see," he explained, a little awkwardly, 
 "after all, we have been partners in business." 
 
 He caught a look upon her face and smiled. 
 
 "Naturally, too," he continued, "it has been a great 
 pleasure for me to do anything to relieve your anxiety." 
 
 She gave him her hands then of her own accord. The 
 gratitude which shone out of her swimming eyes seemed 
 mingled with something which was almost invitation. 
 Laverick was suddenly swept off his feet. Something had 
 
 / J. D 
 
 come into his life something absurd, uncounted upon, 
 incomprehensible. The atmosphere of the room seemed 
 electrified. In a moment, he had done what only a second 
 or two before he had told himself would be the action of a 
 cad. He had taken her, unresisting, up into his arms, 
 kissed her eyes and lips. Afterwards, he was never able 
 to remember those few moments clearly, only it seemed 
 to him that she had accepted his caress almost without 
 hesitation, with the effortless serenity of a child receiving 
 a natural consolation in a time of trouble. But Laverick 
 was conscious of other feelings as he leaned hard back in 
 the corner of his taxicab and was driven swiftly away.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE WAITER AT THE " BLACK POST " 
 
 LAVERICK, notwithstanding that the hour was becoming 
 late, found an outfitter's shop in the Strand still open, 
 and made such purchases as he could on Morrison's be- 
 half. Then, with the bag ready packed, he returned to 
 his rooms. Time had passed quickly during the last three 
 hours. It was nearly nine o'clock when he stepped out 
 of the lift and opened the door of his small suite of rooms 
 with the latchkey which hung from his chain. He began 
 to change his clothes mechanically, and he had nearly 
 finished when the telephone bell upon his table rang. 
 
 "Who's that?" he asked, taking up the receiver. 
 
 " Hall-porter, sir," was the answer. " Person here wishes 
 to see you particularly." 
 
 "A person !" Laverick repeated. "Man or woman? " 
 
 "Man, sir." 
 
 "Better send him up," Laverick ordered. 
 
 "He's a seedy-looking lot, sir," the porter explained. 
 "I told him that I scarcely thought you'd see him." 
 
 "Never mind," Laverick answered. "I can soon get 
 rid of the fellow if he's cadging." 
 
 He went back to his room and finished fastening his 
 tie. His own affairs had sunk a little into the background 
 lately, but the announcement of this unusual visitor brought 
 them back into his mind with a rush. Notwithstanding 
 his iron nerves, his fingers shook as he drew on his dinner- 
 jacket and walked out to the passageway to answer the
 
 WAITER AT THE " BLACK POST" 123 
 
 bell which rang a few seconds later. A man stood outside, 
 dressed in shabby black clothes, whose face somehow 
 was familiar to him, although he could not, for the moment, 
 place it. 
 
 "Do you want to see me?" Laverick asked. 
 
 "If you please, Mr. Laverick," the man replied, "if 
 you could spare me just a moment." 
 
 "You had better come inside, then," Laverick said, 
 closing the door and preceding the way into the sitting- 
 room. At any rate, there was nothing threatening about 
 the appearance of this visitor nor anything official. 
 
 "I have taken the liberty of coming, sir," the man 
 announced, "to ask you if you can tell me where I can 
 find Mr. Arthur Morrison." 
 
 Laverick's face showed no sign of his relief. What he 
 felt he succeeded in keeping to himself. 
 
 "You mean Morrison my partner, I suppose?" he 
 answered. 
 
 "If you please, sir," the man admitted. "I wanted a 
 word or two with him most particular. I found out his 
 address from the caretaker of your office, but he don't 
 seem to have been home to his rooms at all last night, 
 and they know nothing about him there." 
 
 " Your face seems familiar to me," Laverick remarked. 
 " Where do you come from ? " 
 
 The man hesitated. 
 
 " I am the waiter, sir, at the ' Black Post,' little bar 
 and restaurant, you know," he added, "just behind your 
 offices, sir, at the end of Crooked Friars' Alley. You've 
 been in once or twice, Mr. Laverick, I think. Mr. Mor- 
 rison 's a regular customer. He comes in for a drink most 
 mornings." 
 
 Laverick nodded.
 
 i2 4 HAVOC 
 
 " I knew I 'd seen your face somewhere," he said. " What 
 do you want with Mr. Morrison?" 
 
 The man was silent. He twirled his hat and looked 
 embarrassed. 
 
 " It 's a matter I should n't like to mention to any one 
 except Mr. Morrison himself, sir," he declared finally. 
 "If you could put me in the way of seeing him, I'd be 
 glad. I may say that it would be to his advantage, too." 
 
 Laverick was thoughtful for a moment. 
 
 "As it happens, that's a little difficult," he explained. 
 "Mr. Morrison and I disagreed on a matter of business 
 last night. I undertook certain responsibilities which he 
 should have shared, and he arranged to leave the firm 
 and the country at once. We parted well, not exactly 
 the best of friends. I am afraid I cannot give you any 
 information." 
 
 "You haven't seen him since then, sir?" the man 
 asked. 
 
 Laverick lied promptly but he lied badly. His visitor 
 was not in the least convinced. 
 
 "I am afraid I have n't made myself quite plain, sir," 
 he said. "It's to do him a bit o' good that I'm here. 
 I'm not wishing him any harm at all. On the contrary, 
 it's a great deal more to his advantage to see me than it 
 will be mine to find him." 
 
 "I think," Laverick suggested, "that you had better be 
 frank with me. Supposing I knew where to catch Morri- 
 son before he left the country, I could easily deal with 
 you on his behalf." 
 
 The man looked doubtful. 
 
 "You see, sir," he replied awkwardly, "it's a matter I 
 would n't like to breathe a word about to any one but 
 Mr. Morrison himself. It's it's a bit serious."
 
 WAITER AT THE "BLACK POST' 125 
 
 The man's face gave weight to his words. Curiously 
 enough, the gleam of terror which Laverick caught in his 
 white face reminded him of a similar look which he had 
 seen in Morrison's eyes barely an hour ago. To gain 
 time, Laverick moved across the room, took a cigarette 
 from a box and lit it. A conviction was forming itself in 
 his mind. There was something definite behind these 
 hysterical paroxysms of his late partner, something of 
 which this man had an inkling. 
 
 "Look here," he said, throwing himself into an easy- 
 chair, " I think you had better be frank with me. I must 
 know more than I know at present before I help you to 
 find Morrison, even if he is to be found. We did n't part 
 very good friends, but I'm his friend enough for the 
 sake of others," he added, after a moment's hesitation, 
 " to do all that I could to help him out of any difficulty he 
 may have stumbled into. So you see that so far as anything 
 you may have to say to him is concerned, I think you 
 might as well say it to me." 
 
 " You could n't see your way, then, sir," the man con- 
 tinued doggedly, "to tell me where I could find Mr. 
 Morrison himself?" 
 
 "No, I could n't," Laverick decided. "Even if I knew 
 exactly where he was and I 'm not admitting that I 
 could n't put you in touch with him unless I knew what 
 your business was." 
 
 The man's eyes gleamed. He was a typical waiter 
 pasty-faced, unwholesome-looking but he had small 
 eyes of a greenish cast, and they were expressive. 
 
 "I think, sir," he said, "you've some idea yourself, 
 then, that Mr. Morrison has been getting into a bit of 
 trouble." 
 
 "We won't discuss that," Laverick answered. "You
 
 126 HAVOC 
 
 must either go away it's past nine o'clock and I have n't 
 had my dinner yet or you must treat me as you would 
 Mr. Morrison." 
 
 The man looked upon the carpet for several moments. 
 
 "Very well, sir," he said, "there's no great reason why 
 I should put myself out about this at all. The only thing 
 is " 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 "Well, go on," Laverick said encouragingly. 
 
 " I think," the man continued, " that Mr. Morrison 
 knowing, as I w~ll do, sir, the sort of gent he is would 
 be more likely o talk common sense with me about this 
 matter than you, sir." 
 
 " I '11 imagine I 'm Morrison, for the moment," Laverick 
 said smiling, "especially as I'm acting for him." 
 
 The man looked around the room. The door behind 
 had been left ajar. He stepped backward and closed it. 
 
 " You '11 pardon the liberty, sir," he said, " but this is a 
 serious matter I'm going to speak about. I'll just tell 
 you a little thing and you can form your own conclusions. 
 Last night we was open late at the 'Black Post.' We 
 keep open, sir, as you know, when you gentlemen at the 
 Stock Exchange are busy. About nine o'clock there was 
 a strange customer came in. He had two drinks and he 
 sat as though he were waiting. In about arf-an-hour 
 another gent came in, and they went into a corner together 
 and seemed to be doing some sort of business. Anyways, 
 there was papers passed between them. I was fairly busy 
 about then, as there were one or two more customers in 
 the place, but I noticed these two talking together, and I 
 noticed the dark gentleman leave. The others went out 
 a few minutes afterwards, and the gent who had come 
 first was alone in the place. He sat in the corner and he
 
 WAITER AT THE ''BLACK POST" 127 
 
 had a pocket-book on the table before him. I had a sort 
 of casual glance at it when I brought him a drink, and it 
 seemed to me that it was full of bank-notes. He sat there 
 just like a man extra deep in thought. Just after eleven, 
 in came Mr. Morrison. I could see he was rare and put 
 out, for he was white, and shaking all over. ' Give me a 
 drink, Jim,' he said, 'a big brandy and soda, big as 
 you make 'em.'" 
 
 The man paused for a moment as though to collect him- 
 self. Laverick was suddenly conscious of a strange thrill 
 creeping through his pulses. 
 
 " Go on," he said. " That was after he left me. Go on." 
 
 "He was quite close to the other gent, Mr. Morrison 
 was," the waiter continued, " but they did n't say nowt 
 to each other. All of a sudden I see Mr. Morrison set down 
 his glass and stare at the other chap as though he'd seen 
 something that had given him a turn. I leaned over the 
 counter and had a look, too. There he sat this tall, 
 fair chap who had been in the place so long with his 
 big pocket-book on the table in front of him, and even 
 from where I was I could see that there was a great pile 
 of bank-notes sticking out from it. All of a sudden he 
 looks up and sees Mr. Morrison a-watching him and me 
 from behind the counter. Back he whisks the pocket- 
 book into his pocket, calls me for my bill, gives me two 
 mouldv pennies for a tip, buttons up his coat and walks 
 out." 
 
 "You know who he was ?" Laverick inquired. 
 
 Again the waiter paused for a moment before he 
 answered paused and looked nervously around the 
 room. His voice shook. 
 
 "He was the man as was murdered about a hundred 
 yards off the 'Black Post' last night, sir," he said.
 
 128 HAVOC 
 
 " How do you know ? " Laverick asked. 
 
 "I got an hour off to-day," the waiter continued, "and 
 went down to the Mortuary. There was no doubt about 
 it. There he was same chap, same clothes. I could 
 swear to him anywhere, and I reckon I'll have to at the 
 inquest." 
 
 Laverick's cigarette burned away between his fingers. 
 It seemed to him that he was no longer in the room. He 
 was listening to Big Ben striking the hour, he was back 
 again in that tiny little bedroom with its spotless sheets 
 and lace curtains. The man on the bed was looking at 
 him. Laverick remembered the look and shivered. 
 
 "What has this to do with Morrison?" he demanded. 
 
 Once more the waiter looked around in that half mys- 
 terious, half terrified way. 
 
 "Mr. Morrison, sir," he said, dropping his voice to a 
 hoarse whisper, "he followed the other chap out within 
 thirty seconds. A sort of queer look he'd got in his face 
 too, and he went out without paying me. I've read the 
 papers pretty careful, sir," the man went on, "but I ain't 
 seen no word of that pocket-book of bank-notes being 
 found on the man as was murdered." 
 
 Laverick threw the end of his burning cigarette away. 
 He walked to the window, keeping his back deliberately 
 turned on his visitor. His eyes followed the glittering arc 
 of lights which fringed the Thames Embankment, were 
 caught by the flaring sky-sign on the other side of the 
 river. He felt his heart beating with unaccustomed vigor. 
 Was this, then, the secret of Morrison's terror ? He won- 
 dered no longer at his collapse. The terror was upon him, 
 too. He felt his forehead, and his hand, when he drew 
 it away, was wet. It was not Morrison alone but he him- 
 self who might be implicated in this man's knowledge.
 
 WAITER AT THE "BLACK POST" 129 
 
 The thoughts flitted through his brain like parts of a night- 
 mare. He saw Morrison arrested, he saw the whole story 
 of the missing pocket-book in the papers, he imagined his 
 bank manager reading it and thinking of that parcel of 
 mysterious bank-notes deposited in his keeping on the 
 morning after the tragedy. . . . Laverick was a strong 
 man, and his moment of weakness, poignant though it 
 had been, passed. This was no new thing with which he 
 was confronted. All the time he had known that the 
 probabilities were in favor of such a discovery. He set his 
 teeth and turned to face his visitor. 
 
 "This is a very serious thing which you have told me," 
 he said. " Have you spoken about it to any one else ?" 
 
 " Not a soul, sir," the man answered. " I thought it best 
 to have a word or two first with Mr. Morrison." 
 
 " You were thinking of attending the inquest," Laverick 
 said thoughtfully. "The police would thank you for 
 your evidence, and there, I suppose, the matter would 
 end" 
 
 " You Ve hit it precisely, sir," the man admitted. " There 
 the matter would end." 
 
 " On the other hand," Laverick continued, speaking as 
 though he were reasoning this matter out to himself, 
 " supposing you decided not to meddle in an affair which 
 does not concern you, supposing you were not sure as to 
 the identity of your customer last night, and being a little 
 tired you could not rightly remember whether Mr. Morri- 
 son called in for a drink or not, and so, to cut the matter 
 short, you dismissed the whole matter from your mind 
 and let the inquest take its own course, - 
 
 Laverick paused. His visitor scratched the side of his 
 chin and nodded. 
 
 "You've put this matter plainly, sir," he said, "in what
 
 i 3 o HAVOC 
 
 I call an understandable, straightforward way. I'm a 
 poor man I've been a poor man all my life and I've 
 never seed a chance before of getting away from it. I see 
 one now." 
 
 "You want to do the best you can for yourself?" 
 
 "So 'elp me God, sir, I do !" the man agreed. 
 
 Laverick nodded. 
 
 "You have done a remarkably wise thing," he said, 
 "in coming to me and in telling me about this affair. 
 The idea of connecting Mr. Morrison with the murder 
 would, of course, be ridiculous, but, on the other hand, 
 it would be very disagreeable to him to have his name 
 mentioned in connection with it. You have behaved 
 discreetly, and you have done Mr. Morrison a service in 
 trying to find him out. You will do him a further service 
 by adopting the second course I suggested with regard to 
 the inquest. What do you consider that service is worth ?" 
 
 " It depends, sir," the man answered quietly, " at what 
 price Mr. Morrison values his life ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVH 
 
 THE PRICE OF SILENCE 
 
 THE man's manner was expressive. Laverick repeated 
 his phrase, frowning. 
 
 "His life!" 
 
 "Yes, sir!" 
 
 Laverick shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Come," he declared, "you must not go too far with 
 this thing. I have admitted, so as to clear the way for 
 anything you have to say, that Mr. Morrison would not 
 care to have his name mentioned in connection with tKis 
 affair. But because he left your bar a few minutes after 
 the murdered man, it is sheer folly to assume that there- 
 fore he is necessarily implicated in his death. I cannot 
 conceive anything more unlikely." 
 
 The man smiled a slow, uncomfortable smile which 
 suggested mirth less than anything in the world. 
 
 "There are a few other things, sir," he remarked, 
 "one in especial." 
 
 "Well ?" Laverick inquired. "Let's have it. You had 
 better tell me everything that is in your mind." 
 
 " The man was stabbed with a horn-handled knife." 
 
 "I remember reading that," Laverick admitted. 
 "Well?" 
 
 "The knife was mine," his visitor affirmed, dropping 
 his voice once more to a whisper. "It lay on the edge 
 of the counter, close to where Mr. Morrison was leaning, 
 and as soon as he'd gone I missed it." 
 
 Laverick was silent. What was there to be said ?
 
 i 3 2 HAVOC 
 
 "Horn-handled knives," he muttered, "are not un- 
 common things." 
 
 "One don't possess a knife for a matter of eight or 
 nine years without being able to swear to it," the other 
 remarked dryly. 
 
 "Is there anything more?" 
 
 "There don't need to be," was the quiet reply. "You 
 know that, sir. So do I. There don't need to be any 
 more evidence than mine to send Mr. Morrison to the 
 gallows." 
 
 " We will waive that point," Laverick declared. " The 
 jury sometimes are very hard to convince by circum- 
 stantial evidence alone. However, as I have said, let us 
 waive that point. Your position is clear enough. You 
 go to the inquest, you tell all you know, and you get 
 nothing. You are a poor man, you have worked hard 
 all your life. The chance has come in your way to do 
 yourself a little good. Now take my advice. Don't 
 spoil it all by asking for anything ridiculous. It won't 
 do for you to come into a fortune a few days after this 
 affair, especially if it ever comes out that the murdered 
 man was in your place. I am here to act for Mr. Morri- 
 son. What is it that you want?" 
 
 " You are talking like a gent, sir," the man said, " like 
 a sensible gent, too. I'd have to keep it quiet, of course, 
 that I 'd come into a bit of money, just at present, at 
 any rate. I could easy find an excuse for changing my 
 job perhaps get away from London altogether. I Ve 
 got a few pounds saved and I've always wanted to open 
 a banking account. A gent like you, perhaps, could put 
 me in the way of doing it." 
 
 "How much do you consider would be a satisfactory 
 balance to commence with?" Laverick asked.
 
 THE PRICE OF SILENCE 133 
 
 " I was thinking of a thousand pounds, sir." 
 
 Laverick was thoughtful for a few moments. 
 
 " By the way, what is your name ? " he inquired at last. 
 
 "James Shepherd, sir," the man answered, "gen- 
 erally called Jim, sir." 
 
 "Well, you see, Shepherd," Laverick continued, "the 
 difficulty is, in your case, as in all similar ones, that one 
 never knows where the thing will end. A thousand 
 pounds is a considerable sum, but in four amounts, with 
 three months interval between each, it could be arranged. 
 This would be better for you, in any case. Two hundred 
 and fifty pounds is not an unheard-of sum for you to 
 have saved or got together. After that your investments 
 would be my lookout, and they would produce, as I have 
 said, another seven hundred and fifty pounds. But what 
 security have I has Mr. Morrison, let us say that 
 you will be content with this sum?" 
 
 " He has n't any, sir," the man admitted at once. " He 
 could n't have any. I'm a modest-living man, and I've 
 no desire to go shouting around that I'm independent 
 all of a sudden. That would n't do nohow. A thousand 
 pounds would bring me in near enough a pound a week 
 if I invested it, or two pounds a week for an annuity, my 
 health being none too good. I've no wife or children, sir. 
 I was thinking of an annuity. With two pounds a week 
 I'd have no cause to trouble any one again." 
 
 Laverick considered. 
 
 "It shall be done," he said. "To-morrow I shall buy 
 shares for you to the extent of two hundred and fifty 
 pounds. They will be deposited in a bank. Some day 
 you can look in and see me, and I will take you round 
 there. You are my client who has speculated under my 
 instructions successfully, and you will sign your name
 
 134 HAVOC 
 
 and become a customer. After that, you will speculate 
 again. When your thousand pounds has been made, I 
 will show you how to buy an annuity. Keep your mouth 
 shut, and last night will be the luckiest night of your life. 
 Do you drink?" 
 
 " A drop or two, sir," the man admitted. " If I did n't, 
 I guess I'd go off my chump." 
 
 "Do you talk when you're drunk?" Laverick asked. 
 
 "Never, sir," the man declared. "I've a way of get- 
 ting a drop too much when I'm by myself. Then I 
 tumbles off to sleep and that's the end of it. I've no 
 fancy for company at such times." 
 
 "It's a good thing," Laverick remarked, thrusting his 
 hand into his pocket. "Here's a five-pound note on ac- 
 count. I daresay you can manage to keep sober to-night, 
 at any rate. That's all, is n't it?" 
 
 "That's all, sir," the man answered, "unless I might 
 make so bold as to ask whether Mr. Morrison has really 
 hooked it?" 
 
 " Mr. Morrison had decided to hook it, as you graphi- 
 cally say, before he came in for that drink to your bar, 
 Shepherd," Laverick affirmed. "Business had been 
 none too good with us, and we had had a disagreement." 
 
 The man nodded. 
 
 " I see, sir," he said, taking up his hat. " Good night, 
 sir!" 
 
 "Good night!" Laverick answered. "You can find 
 your way down ? " 
 
 "Quite well, sir, and thank you," declared Mr. Shep- 
 herd, closing the door softly behind him. 
 
 Laverick sat down in his chair. He had forgotten that 
 he was hungry. He was faced now with a new tragedy.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE LONELY CHORUS GIBL 
 
 THEY stood together upon the platform watching the re- 
 ceding train. The girl's eyes were filled with tears, but 
 Laverick was conscious of a sense of immense relief. 
 Morrison had been at the station some time before the 
 train was due to leave, and, although a physical wreck, 
 he seemed only too anxious to depart. He had all the 
 appearance of a broken-spirited man. He looked about 
 him on the platform, and even from the carriage, in the 
 furtive way of a criminal expecting apprehension at any 
 moment. The whistle of the train had been a relief as 
 great to him as to Laverick. 
 
 "We'll write you to New York, care of Barclays," 
 Laverick called out. " Good luck, Morrison ! Pull your- 
 self together and make a fresh start." 
 
 Morrison's only reply was a somewhat feeble nod. 
 Laverick had not attempted to shake hands. He felt 
 himself, at the last moment, stirred almost to anger by 
 the perfunctory farewell which was all this man had 
 offered to the girl he had treated so inconsiderately. His 
 thoughts were engrossed upon himself and his own danger. 
 He would not even have kissed her if she had not drawn 
 his face down to hers and whispered a reassuring little 
 message. Laverick turned away. For some reason or 
 other he felt himself shuddering. Conversation during 
 those last few moments had been increasingly difficult. 
 The train was off at last, however, and they were alone.
 
 i 3 6 HAVOC 
 
 The girl drew a long breath, which might very well have 
 been one of relief. They turned silently toward the exit. 
 
 "Are you going back home?" Laverick asked. 
 
 "Yes," she answered listlessly. "There is nothing else 
 to do." 
 
 " Is n't it rather sad for you there by yourself ? " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "It is the first time," she said. "Another girl and her 
 mother have lived with me always. They started off last 
 week, touring. They are paying a little toward the house 
 or I should have to go into rooms. As it is, I think that 
 it would be more comfortable." 
 
 Laverick looked at her wonderingly. 
 
 "You seem such a child," he said, "to be left all alone 
 in the world like this." 
 
 " But I am not a child actually, you see," she answered, 
 with an effort at lightness. "Somehow, though, I do 
 miss Arthur's going. His father was always very good 
 to me, and made him promise that he would do what he 
 could. I did n't see much of him, but one felt always 
 that there was somebody. It's different now. It makes 
 one feel very lonely." 
 
 "I, too," Laverick said, with commendable mendacity, 
 " am rather a lonely person. You must let me see some- 
 thing of you now and then." 
 
 She looked up at him quickly. Her gaze was alto- 
 gether disingenuous, but her eyes those wonderful 
 eyes spoke volumes. 
 
 "If you really mean it," she said, "I should be so 
 glad." 
 
 " Supposing we start to-day," he suggested, smiling. 
 " I cannot ask you to lunch, as I have a busy day before 
 me, but we might have dinner together quite early. Then
 
 THE LONELY CHORUS GIRL 137 
 
 I would take you to the theatre and meet you afterwards, 
 if you liked." 
 
 "If I liked!" she whispered. "Oh, how good you 
 are!" 
 
 " I am not at all sure about that. Now I '11 put you in 
 this taxi and send you home." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " You must n't do anything so extravagant. I can get 
 a 'bus just outside. I never have taxicabs." 
 
 "Just this morning," he insisted, "and I think he 
 won't trouble you for his fare. You must let me, please. 
 Remember that there's a large account open still between 
 your half-brother and me, so you need n't mind these 
 trifles. Till this evening, then. Shall I fetch you or will 
 you come to me?" 
 
 "Let me fetch you, if I may," she said. "It is n't nice 
 for you to come down to where I live. It 's such a horrid 
 part." 
 
 "Just as you like," he answered. "I'd be very glad 
 to fetch you if you prefer it, but it would give me more 
 time if you came. Shall we say seven o'clock? I've 
 written the address down on this card so that you can 
 make no mistake." 
 
 She laughed gayly. 
 
 "You know, all the time," she said, "I feel that you 
 are treating me as though I were a baby. I'll be there 
 punctually, and I don't think I need tie the card around 
 my neck." 
 
 The cab glided off. Laverick caught a glimpse of a 
 wan little face with a faint smile quivering at the corner 
 of her lips as she leaned out for a moment to say good-bye. 
 Then he went back to his rooms, breakfasted, and made 
 his way to his office.
 
 i 3 8 HAVOC 
 
 The morning papers had nothing new to report con- 
 cerning the murder in Crooked Friars' Alley. Evidently 
 what information the police had obtained they were 
 keeping for the inquest. Laverick, from the moment 
 when he entered the office, had little or no time to think 
 of the tragedy under whose shadow he had come. The 
 long-predicted boom had arrived at last. Without lunch, 
 he and all his clerks worked until after six o'clock. Even 
 then Laverick found it hard to leave. During the day, 
 a dozen people or so had been in to ask for Morrison. 
 To all of them he had given the same reply, Morrison 
 had gone abroad on private business for the firm. Very 
 few were deceived by Laverick's dry statement. He was 
 quite aware that he was looked upon either as one of the 
 luckiest men on earth, or as a financier of consummate 
 skill. The failure of Laverick & Morrison had been 
 looked upon as a certainty. How they had tided over 
 that twenty-four hours had been known to no one to 
 no one but Laverick himself and the manager of his 
 bank. 
 
 Just before four o'clock, the telephone rang at his 
 elbow. 
 
 "Mr. Fenwick from the bank, sir, is wishing to speak 
 to you for a moment," his head-clerk announced. 
 
 Laverick took up the telephone. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I am Laverick. Good afternoon, 
 Mr. Fenwick ! Absolutely impossible to spare any time 
 to-day. What is it? The account is all right, is n't it?" 
 
 "Quite right, Mr. Laverick," was the answer. "At 
 the same time, if you could spare me a moment I should 
 be glad to see you concerning the deposit you made 
 yesterday." 
 
 " I will come in to-morrow," Laverick promised. " This
 
 THE LONELY CHORUS GIRL 139 
 
 afternoon it is quite out of the question. I have a crowd 
 of people waiting to see me, and several important engage- 
 ments for which I am late already." 
 
 The banker seemed scarcely satisfied. 
 
 " I may rely upon seeing you to-morrow ?" he pressed. 
 
 "To-morrow," Laverick repeated, ringing off. 
 
 For a time this last message troubled him. As soon 
 as the day's work was over, however, and he stepped 
 into his cab, he dismissed it entirely from his thoughts. 
 It was curious how, notwithstanding this new seriousness 
 which had come into his life, notwithstanding that sensa- 
 tion of walking all the time on the brink of a precipice, he 
 set his face homeward and looked forward to his evening, 
 with a pleasure which he had not felt for many months. 
 The whirl of the day faded easily from his mind. He 
 lived no more in an atmosphere of wild excitement, of 
 changing prices, of feverish anxiet}'. How empty his 
 life must have unconsciously grown that he could find so 
 much pleasure in being kind to a pretty child ! It was 
 hard to think of her otherwise impossible. A strange 
 heritage, this, to have been left him by such a person as 
 Arthur Morrison. How in the world, he wondered, did 
 he happen to have such a connection. 
 
 She was a little shy when she arrived. Laverick had 
 left special orders downstairs, and she was brought up 
 into his sitting-room immediately. She was very quietly 
 dressed except for her hat, which was large and wavy. 
 He found it becoming, but he knew enough to understand 
 that her clothes were very simple and very inexpensive, 
 and he was conscious of being curiously glad of the fact. 
 
 "I am afraid," she said timidly, with a glance at his 
 evening attire, "that we must go somewhere very quiet. 
 You see, I have only one evening gown and I could n't
 
 i 4 o HAVOC 
 
 wear that. There would n't be time to change after- 
 wards. Besides, one's clothes do get so knocked about 
 in the dressing-rooms." 
 
 "There are heaps of places we can go to," he assured 
 her pleasantly. " Of course you can't dress for the even- 
 ing when you have to go on to work, but you must re- 
 member that there are a good many other smart young 
 ladies in the same position. I had to change because I 
 have taken a stall to see your performance. Tell me, 
 how are you feeling now?" 
 
 " Rather lonely," she admitted, making a pathetic little 
 grimace. " That is to say I have been feeling lonely," she 
 added softly. "I don't now, of course." 
 
 "You are a queer little person," he said kindly, as 
 they went down in the lift. "Have n't you any friends?" 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "What sort of friends could I have?" she asked. 
 "The girls in the chorus with me are very nice, some of 
 them, but they know so many people whom I don't, 
 and they are always out to supper, or something of the 
 sort." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "I went to one supper-party with the girl who is near 
 me," she said. " I liked it very much, but they did n't ask 
 me again." 
 
 "I wonder why?" he remarked. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ! " she went on drearily. " You 
 see, I think the men who take out girls who are in the 
 chorus, generally expect to be allowed to make love to 
 them. At any rate, they behaved like that. Such a 
 horrid man tried to say nice things to me and I did n't 
 like it a bit. So they left me alone afterwards. The girl
 
 THE LONELY CHORUS GIRL 141 
 
 I lived with and her mother are quite nice, and they have 
 a few friends we go to see sometimes on Sunday or holi- 
 days. It's dull, though, very dull, especially now they're 
 away." 
 
 "What on earth made you think of going on the stage 
 at all ?" he asked. 
 
 " What could one do ? " she answered. " My mother's 
 money died with her she had only an annuity and 
 my stepfather, who had promised to look after me, lost 
 all his money and died quite suddenly. Arthur was in 
 a stockbroker's office and he could n't save anything. 
 My only friend was my old music-master, and he had 
 given up teaching and was director of the orchestra at 
 the Universal. All he could do for me was to get me a 
 place in the chorus. I have been there ever since. They 
 keep on promising me a little part but I never get it. 
 It's always like that in theatres. You have to be a 
 favorite of the manager's, for some reason or other, or 
 you never get your chance unless you are unusually 
 lucky." 
 
 "I dou't know much about theatres," he admitted. 
 "I am afraid I am rather a stupid person. When I can 
 get away from work I go into the country and play cricket 
 or ^olf, or anything that's going. W r hen I am up in town, 
 I am generally content with looking up a few friends, or 
 playing bridge at the club. I never have been a theatre- 
 goer." 
 
 "I wonder," she asked, as they seated themselves at 
 a small round table in the restaurant which he had chosen, 
 "I wonder why every now and then you look so serious." 
 
 "I didn't know that I did," he answered. "We've 
 had thundering hard times lately in business, though. 
 I suppose that makes a man look thoughtful."
 
 I 4 2 HAVOC 
 
 "Poor Mr. Laverick," she murmured softly. "Are 
 things any better now?" 
 
 "Much better." 
 
 " Then you have nothing really to bother you ? " she 
 persisted. 
 
 " I suppose we all have something," he replied, sud- 
 denly grave. " Why do you ask that ? " 
 
 She leaned across the table. In the shaded light, her 
 oval face with its little halo of deep brown hair seemed 
 to him as though it might have belonged to some old 
 miniature. She was delightful, like Watteau-work upon 
 &. piece of priceless porcelain delightful when the lights 
 played in her eyes and the smile quivered at the corner 
 of her lips. Just now, however, she became very much 
 in earnest. 
 
 "I will tell you why I ask that question," she said. "I 
 cannot help worrying still about Arthur. You know you 
 admitted last night that he had done something. You 
 saw how terribly frightened he was this morning, and how 
 he kept on looking around as though he were afraid that 
 he would see somebody whom he wished to av-yid. Oh ! 
 I don't want to worry you," she went on, "but I feel so 
 terrified sometimes. I feel that he must have done some- 
 thing bad. It was not an ordinary business trouble 
 which took the life out of him so completely." 
 
 "It was not," Laverick admitted at once. "He has 
 done something, I believe, quite foolish; but the matter 
 is in my hands to arrange, and I think you can assure 
 yourself that nothing will come of it." 
 
 " Did you tell him so this morning ?" she asked eagerly. 
 
 "I did not," he answered. "I told him nothing. For 
 many reasons it was better to keep him ignorant. He 
 and I might not have seen things the same way, and I
 
 THE LONELY CHORUS GIRL 143 
 
 am sure that what I am doing is for the best. If I were 
 you, Miss Leneveu, I think I would n't worry any more. 
 Soon you will hear from your brother that he is safe in 
 New York, and I think I can promise you that the trouble 
 will never come to anything serious." 
 
 "Why have you been so kind to him?" she asked tim- 
 idly. " From what he said, I do not think that he was very 
 useful to you, and, indeed, you and he are so different." 
 
 Laverick was silent for a moment. 
 
 "To be honest," he said, "I think that I should not 
 have taken so much trouble for his sake alone. You 
 see," he continued, smiling, "you are rather a delightful 
 young person, and you were very anxious, were n't you ?" 
 
 Her hand came across the table an impulsive little 
 gesture, which he nevertheless found perfectly natural and 
 delightfull. He took it into his, and would have raised the 
 fingers to his lips but for the waiters who were hovering 
 around. 
 
 "You are so kind," she said, "and I am so fortunate. 
 I think that I wanted a friend." 
 
 "You poor child," he answered, "I should think you 
 did. You are not drinking your wine." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Do you mind?" she asked. "A very little gets into 
 my head because I take it so seldom, and the manager is 
 cross if one makes the least bit of a mistake. Besides, I 
 do not think that I like to drink wine. If one does not 
 take it at all, there is an excuse for never having anything 
 when the girls ask you." 
 
 He nodded svmpathetically. 
 
 "I believe you are quite right," he said; "in a general 
 way, at any rate. Well, I will drink by myself to your 
 brother's safe arrival in New York. Are you ready?"
 
 144 HAVOC 
 
 She glanced at the clock. 
 
 "I must be there in a quarter of an hour," she told 
 him. 
 
 "I will drive you to the theatre," he said, "and then 
 go round and fetch my ticket." 
 
 As he waited for her in the reception hall of the restau- 
 rant, he took an evening paper from the stall. A brief 
 paragraph at once attracted his attention. 
 
 Murder in the City. We understand that very 
 important information has come into the hands of 
 the police. An arrest is expected to-night or to- 
 morrow at the latest. 
 
 He crushed the paper in his hand and threw it on one 
 side. It was the usual sort of thing. There was nothing 
 they could have found out nothing, he told himself.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 MYSTERIOUS INQUIRIES 
 
 As soon as he had gone through his letters on the follow- 
 ing morning, Laverick, in response to a second and more 
 urgent message, went round to his bank. Mr. Fenwick 
 greeted him gravely. He was feeling keenly the responsi- 
 bilities of his position. Just how much to say and how 
 much to leave unsaid was a question which called for a 
 full measure of diplomacy. 
 
 "You understand, Mr. Laverick," he began, "that I 
 wished to see you with regard to the arrangement we 
 came to the day before yesterday." 
 
 Laverick nodded. It suited him to remain monosyllabic. 
 
 "Well?" he asked. 
 
 "The arrangement, of course, was most unusual," the 
 manager continued. "I agreed to it as you were an old 
 customer and the matter was an urgent one." 
 
 " I do not quite follow you," Laverick remarked, frown- 
 ing. "What is it you wish me to do? Withdraw my 
 account?" 
 
 " Not in the least," the manager answered hastily. 
 
 "You know the position of our market, of course," 
 Laverick went on. "Three days ago I was in a situation 
 which might have been called desperate. I could quite 
 understand that you needed security to go on making the 
 necessary payments on my behalf. To-day, things are 
 entirely different. I am twenty thousand pounds better 
 off, and if necessary I could realize sufficient to pay off
 
 i 4 6 HAVOC 
 
 the whole of my overdraft within half-an-hour. That I 
 do not do so is simply a matter of policy and prices." 
 
 "I quite understand that, my dear Mr. Laverick," the 
 bank manager declared. "The position is simply this. 
 We have had a most unusual and a strictly private in- 
 quiry, of a nature which I cannot divulge to you, asking 
 whether any large sum in five hundred pound bank- 
 notes has been passed through our account during the 
 last few days." 
 
 "You have actually had this inquiry?" Laverick 
 asked calmly. 
 
 " We have. I can tell you no more. The source of the 
 inquiry was, in a sense, amazing." 
 
 "May I ask what your reply was?" 
 
 "My reply was,' Mr. Fenwick said slowly, "that no 
 such notes had passed through our account. We asked 
 them, however, without giving any reasons, to repeat 
 their question in a few days' time. Our reply was per- 
 fectly truthful. Owing to your peculiar stipulations, we 
 are simply holding a certain packet for you in our security 
 chamber. We know it to contain bank-notes, and there 
 is very little doubt but that it contains the notes which 
 have been the subject of this inquiry. I want to ask you, 
 Mr. Laverick, to be so good as to open that packet, let 
 me credit the notes to your account in the usual way, and 
 leave me free to reply as I ought to have done in the first 
 instance to this inquiry." 
 
 "The course which you suggest," replied the other, 
 "is one which I absolutely decline to take. It is not for 
 me to tell you the nature of the relations which should 
 exist between a banker and his client. All that I can say 
 is that those notes are deposited with you and must re- 
 main on deposit, and that the transaction is one which
 
 MYSTERIOUS INQUIRIES 147 
 
 must be treated entirely as a confidential one. If you de- 
 cline to do this, I must remove my account, in which 
 case I shall, of course, take the packet away with me. 
 To be plain with you, Mr. Fenwick," he wound up, "I 
 do not intend to make use of those notes, I never intended 
 to do so. I simply deposited them as security until the 
 turn in price of 'Unions' came." 
 
 "It is a very nice point, Mr. Laverick," the bank 
 manager remarked. "I should consider that you had 
 already made use of them." 
 
 "Every one to his own conscience," Laverick an- 
 swered calmly. 
 
 "You place me in a very embarrassing position, Mr. 
 Laverick." 
 
 " I cannot admit that at all," Laverick replied. "There 
 is only one inquiry which you could have had which could 
 justify you in insisting upon what you have suggested. 
 It emanated, I presume, from Scotland Yard?" 
 
 "If it had," Mr. Fenwick answered, "no considera- 
 tions of etiquette would have intervened at all. I should 
 have felt it my duty to have revealed at once the fact of 
 your deposit. At the same time, the inquiry comes from 
 an even more important source, a source which cannot 
 be ignored." 
 
 Laverick thought for a moment. 
 
 "After all, the matter is a very simple one," he de- 
 clared. "By four o'clock this afternoon my account 
 shall be within its limits. You will then automatically 
 restore to me the packet which you hold on my behalf, 
 and the possession of which seems to embarrass 
 you." 
 
 "If you do not mind," the banker answered, "I should 
 be glad if you would take it with you. It means, I think,
 
 i 4 8 HAVOC 
 
 a matter of six or seven thousand pounds added to your 
 overdraft, but as a temporary thing we will pass that." 
 
 "As you will," Laverick assented carelessly. "The 
 charge of those documents is a trust with me as well as 
 with yourself. I have no doubt that I can arrange for 
 their being held in a secure place elsewhere." 
 
 The usual formalities were gone through, and Laverick 
 left the bank with the brown leather pocket-book in his 
 breast-coat pocket. Arrived at his office, he locked it up 
 at once in his private safe and proceeded with the usual 
 business of the day. Even with an added staff of clerks, 
 the office was almost in an uproar. Laverick threw him- 
 self into the struggle with a whole-hearted desire to escape 
 from these unpleasant memories. He succeeded per- 
 fectly. It was two hours before he was able to sit down 
 even for a moment. His head-clerk, almost as exhausted, 
 followed him into his room. 
 
 "I forgot to tell you, sir," he announced, "that there's 
 a man outside Mr. Shepherd was his name, I believe 
 said he had a small investment to make which you prom- 
 ised to look after personally. He would insist on seeing 
 you said he was a waiter at a restaurant which you 
 visited sometimes." 
 
 "That's all right," Laverick declared. "You can 
 show him in. We'll probably give him American 
 rails." 
 
 "Can't we attend to it in the office for you, sir?" the 
 clerk asked. "I suppose it's only a matter of a few 
 hundreds." 
 
 "Less than that, probably, but I promised the fellow 
 I'd look after it myself. Send him in, Scropes." 
 
 There was a brief delay and then Mr. Shepherd was 
 announced. Laverick, who was sitting with his coat off,
 
 MYSTERIOUS INQUIRIES 149 
 
 smoking a well-earned cigarette, looked up and nodded 
 to his visitor as the door was closed. 
 
 "Sorry to keep you waiting," he remarked. "We're 
 having a bit of a rush." 
 
 The man laid down his hat and came up to Laverick's 
 side. 
 
 "I guess that, sir," he said, "from the number of peo- 
 ple we've had in the 'Black Post' to-day, and the way 
 they've all been shouting and talking. They don't seem 
 to eat much these days, but there's some of them can 
 shift the drink." 
 
 "I've got some sound stocks looked out for you," 
 Laverick remarked, "two hundred and fifty pounds' 
 worth. If you'll just approve that list as a matter of 
 form," he added, pushing a piece of paper across, "you 
 can come in to-morrow and have the certificates. I shall 
 tell them to debit the purchase money to my private 
 account, so that if any one asks you anything, you can say 
 that you paid me for them." 
 
 "I'm sure I'm much obliged, sir," the man said. "To 
 tell you the truth," he went on, "I've had a bit of a scare 
 to-day." 
 
 Laverick looked up quickly. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he demanded. 
 
 "May I sit down, sir? I'm a bit worn out. I've been 
 on the go since half-past ten." 
 
 Laverick nodded and pointed to a chair. Shepherd 
 brought it up to the side of the table and leaned 
 forward. 
 
 "There's been two men in to-day," he said, "asking 
 questions. They wanted to know how many customers 
 I had there on Monday night, and could I describe them. 
 Was there any one I recognized, and so on."
 
 ISO HAVOC 
 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 " I declared I could n't remember any one. To the best 
 of my recollection, I told them, there was no one served 
 at all after ten o'clock. I would n't say for certain it 
 looked as though I might have had a reason." 
 
 "And were they satisfied?" 
 
 "I don't think they were," Shepherd admitted. "Not 
 altogether, that is to say." 
 
 "Did they mention any names?" asked Laverick 
 "Morrison's, for instance? Did they want to know 
 whether he was a regular customer?" 
 
 "They did n't mention no names at all, sir," the man 
 answered, "but they did begin to ask questions about my 
 regular clients. Fortunate like, the place was so crowded 
 that I had every excuse for not paying any too much 
 attention to them. It was all I could do to keep on get- 
 ting orders attended to." 
 
 " What sort of men were they ?" Laverick asked. " Do 
 you think that they came from the police?" 
 
 " I should n't have said so," Shepherd replied, " but 
 one can't tell, and these gentlemen from Scotland Yard 
 do make themselves up so sometimes on purpose to de- 
 ceive. I should have said that these two were foreigners, 
 the same kidney as the poor chap as was murdered. I 
 heard a word or two pass, and I sort of gathered that they'd 
 a shrewd idea as to that meeting in the 'Black Post' be- 
 tween the man who was murdered and the little dark 
 fellow." 
 
 Laverick nodded. 
 
 "Jim Shepherd," he declared, "you appear to me to 
 be a very sagacious person." 
 
 " I 'm sure I 'm much obliged, sir ; I can tell you, though," 
 he added, "I don't half like these chaps coming round
 
 MYSTERIOUS INQUIRIES 151 
 
 making inquiries. My nerves ain't quite what they were, 
 and it gives me the jumps." 
 
 Laverick was thoughtful for a few moments. 
 
 "After all, there was no one else in the bar that night," 
 he remarked, "no one who could contradict you?" 
 
 " Not a soul," Jim Shepherd agreed. 
 
 "Then don't you bother," Laverick continued. "You 
 see, you've been wise. You have n't given yourself away 
 altogether. You've simply said that you don't recollect 
 any one coming in. Why should you recollect? At the 
 end of a day's work you are not likely to notice every 
 stray customer. Stick to it, and, if you take my advice, 
 don't go throwing any money about, and don't give your 
 notice in for another week or so. Pave the way for it a 
 bit. Ask the governor for a rise say you 're not making 
 a living out of it." 
 
 "I'm on," Jim Shepherd remarked, nodding his head. 
 "I'm on to it, sir. I don't want to get into no trouble, 
 I'm sure." 
 
 "You can't," Laverick answered dryly, "unless you 
 chuck yourself in. You're not obliged to remember any- 
 thing. No one can ever prove that you remembered 
 anything. Keep your eyes open, and let me hear if these 
 fellows turn up again." 
 
 "I'm pretty certain they will, sir," the man declared. 
 "They sat about waiting for me to be disengaged, but 
 when my time off came, I hopped out the back way. 
 They'll be there again to-night, sure enough." 
 
 Laverick nodded. 
 
 "Well, you must let me know," he said, "what 
 happens." 
 
 Jim Shepherd leaned across the corner of the table and 
 dropped his voice.
 
 152 HAVOC 
 
 "It's an awful thing to think of, sir," he whispered, 
 blinking rapidly. " I would n't be that young Mr. Morri- 
 son for all that great pocketful of notes. But my ! there 
 was a sight of money there, sir ! He '11 be a rich man for 
 all his days if nothing comes out." 
 
 "We won't talk any more about it," Laverick insisted. 
 " It is n't a pleasant thing to think about or talk about. 
 We won't know anything, Shepherd. We shall be better 
 off." 
 
 The man took his departure and the whirl of business 
 recommenced. Laverick turned his back upon the city 
 only a few minutes before eight and, tired out. he dined 
 at a restaurant on his homeward way. When at last he 
 reached his sitting-room he threw himself on the sofa 
 and lit a cigar. Once more the evening papers had no 
 particular news. This time, however, one of them had 
 a leading article upon the English police system. The 
 fact that an undetected murder should take place in a 
 wealthy neighborhood, away from the slums, a murder 
 which must have been premeditated, was in itself alarm- 
 ing. Until the inquest bad been held, it was better to 
 make little comment upon the iacts of the case so far as 
 they were known. At the same time, the circumstance 
 could not fail to incite a considerable amount of alarm 
 among those who had offices in the vicinity of the tragedy. 
 It was rumored that some mysterious inquiries were 
 being circulated around London banks. It was possible 
 that robbery, after all, had been the real motive of the 
 crime, but robbery on a scale as yet unimagined. The 
 whole interest of the case now was centred upon the dis- 
 covery of the man's identity. As soon as this was solved, 
 some very startling developments might be expected. 
 
 Laverick threw the paper away. He tried to rest upon
 
 MYSTERIOUS INQUIRIES 153 
 
 the sofa, but tried in vain. He found himself continually 
 glancing at the clock. 
 
 "To-night," he muttered to himself, "no, I will not 
 go to-night ! It is not fair to the child. It is absurd. 
 Why, she would think that I was " 
 
 He stopped short. 
 
 "I'll change and go to the club," he decided. 
 
 He rose to his feet. Just then there was a ring at his 
 bell. He opened the door and found a messenger boy 
 standing in the vestibule. 
 
 " Note, sir, for Mr. Stephen Laverick," the boy an- 
 nounced, opening his wallet. 
 
 Laverick held out his hand. The boy gave him a large 
 square envelope, and upon the back of it was " Universal 
 Theatre." Laverick tried to assure himself that he was 
 not so ridiculously pleased. He stepped back into the 
 room, tore open the envelope, and read the few lines traced 
 in rather faint but delicate handwriting. 
 
 Are you coming to fetch me to-night ? Don't let me be a nui- 
 sance, but do come if you have nothing to do. I have something 
 to tell you. ZOE. 
 
 Laverick gave the boy a shilling for himself and suddenly 
 forgot that he was tired. He changed his clothes, whis- 
 tling softly to himself all the time. At eleven o'clock, he 
 was at the stage-door of the Universal Theatre, waiting in 
 a taxicab.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 LAVEEICK IS CEOSS-EXAMINED 
 
 ONE by one the young ladies of the chorus came out 
 from the stage-door of the Universal, in most cases to be 
 assisted into a waiting hansom or taxicab by an attendant 
 cavalier. Laverick stood back in the shadows as much 
 as possible, smiling now and then to himself at this, to 
 him, somewhat novel way of spending the evening. Zoe 
 was among the last to appear. She came up to him with 
 a delightful little gesture of pleasure, and took his arm as a 
 matter of course as he led her across to the waiting cab. 
 
 " This sort of thing is making me feel absurdly young," 
 he declared. "Luigi's for supper, I suppose?" 
 
 "Supper!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "De- 
 lightful ! Two nights following, too ! I did love last 
 night." 
 
 " We had better engage a table at Luigi's permanently," 
 he remarked. 
 
 "If only you meant it!" she sighed. 
 
 He laughed at her, but he was thoughtful for a few 
 minutes. Afterwards, when they sat at a small round 
 table in the somewhat Bohemian restaurant which was 
 the fashionable rendezvous of the moment for ladies of 
 the theatrical profession, he asked her a question. 
 
 "Tell me what you meant in your note," he begged. 
 "You said that you had some information for me." 
 
 "I'm afraid it wasn't anything very much," she ad- 
 mitted. "I found out to-dav that some one had been
 
 LAVERICK IS CROSS-EXAMINED 155 
 
 inquiring at the stage-door about me, and whether I was 
 connected in any way with a Mr. Arthur Morrison, the 
 stockbroker." 
 
 "Do you know who it was?" he asked. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "The man left no name at all. I tried to get the door- 
 keeper to tell me about him, but he's such a surly old 
 fellow, and he's so used to that sort of thing, that he pre- 
 tended he did n't remember anything." 
 
 "It seems odd," he remarked thoughtfully, "that any 
 one should have found you out. You were so seldom 
 with Morrison. I dare say," he added, " it was just some 
 one to whom your brother owes some small sum of 
 money." 
 
 "Very likely," she answered. "But I was going to tell 
 you. He came again to-night while the performance was 
 on, and sent a note round. I have brought it for you to 
 see." 
 
 The note it was really little more than a message 
 was written on the back of a programme and enclosed in 
 an envelope evidently borrowed from the box-office. It 
 read as follows: 
 
 DEAR Miss LENEVEU, 
 
 I believe that Mr. Arthur Morrison is a connection of yours, 
 and I am venturing to introduce myself to you as a friend of his. 
 Could you spare me half-an-hour of your company after the 
 performance of this evening ? If you could honor me so much, 
 you might perhaps allow me to give you some supper. 
 
 Sincerely, 
 
 PHILIP E. MILES. 
 
 Laverick felt an absurd pang of jealousy as he handed 
 back the programme.
 
 i 5 6 HAVOC 
 
 "I should say," he declared, "that this was simply 
 some young man who was trying to scrape an acquaint- 
 ance with you because he was or had been a friend of 
 Morrison's." 
 
 "In that case," answered Zoe, "he is very soon 
 forgotten." 
 
 She tore the programme into two pieces, and Laverick 
 was conscious of a ridiculous feeling of pleasure at her 
 indifference. 
 
 "If you hear anything more about him," he said, "you 
 might let me know. You are a brave young lady to dis- 
 miss your admirers so summarily." 
 
 "Perhaps I am quite satisfied with one," laughing 
 softly. 
 
 Laverick told himself that at his age he was behaving 
 like an idiot, nevertheless his eyes across the table ex- 
 pressed his appreciation of her speech. 
 
 "Tell me something about yourself, Mr. Laverick," 
 she begged. 
 
 "For instance?" 
 
 "First of all, then, how old are you?" 
 
 He made a grimace. 
 
 " Thirty-eight thirty-nine my next birthday. Does n't 
 that seem grandfatherly to you?" 
 
 "You must not be absurd!" she exclaimed. "It is 
 not even middle-aged. Now tell me how do you spend 
 your time generally? Do you really mean that you go 
 and play cards at your club most evenings ?" 
 
 "I have a good many friends, and I dine out quite a 
 great deal." 
 
 "You have no sisters?" 
 
 "I have no relatives at all in London," he explained. 
 
 "It is to be a real cross-examination," she warned him.
 
 LAVERICK IS CROSS-EXAMINED 157 
 
 "I am quite content," he answered. "Go ahead, but 
 remember, though, that I am a very dull person." 
 
 "You look so young for your years," she declared. "I 
 wonder, have you ever been in love?" 
 
 He laughed heartily. 
 
 "About a dozen times, I suppose. Why? Do I seem 
 to you like a misanthrope?" 
 
 "I don't know," she admitted, hesitatingly. "You 
 don't seem to me as though you cared to make friends 
 very easily. I just felt I wanted to ask you. Have you 
 ever been engaged?" 
 
 " Never," he assured her. 
 
 "And when was the last time," she asked, "that you 
 felt you cared a little for any one?" 
 
 "It dates from the day before yesterday," he declared, 
 filling her glass. 
 
 She laughed at him. 
 
 "Of course, it is nonsense to talk to you like this!" 
 she said. "You are quite right to make fun of 
 me." 
 
 "On the contrary," he insisted. "I am very much in 
 earnest." 
 
 "Very well, then," she answered, "if you are in earnest 
 you shall be in love with me. You shall take me about, 
 give me supper every night, send me some sweets and 
 cigarettes to the theatre oh, and there are heaps of 
 things you ought to do if you really mean it !" she wound 
 up. 
 
 " If those things mean being fond of you," he answered, 
 "I'll prove it with pleasure. Sweets, cigarettes, suppers, 
 taxicabs at the stage-door." 
 
 "It all sounds very terrible," she sighed. "It's a 
 horrid little life."
 
 i 5 8 HAVOC 
 
 " Yet I suppose you enjoy it ? " he remarked tentatively. 
 
 "I hate it, but I must do something. I could not live 
 on charity. If I knew any other way I could make money, 
 I would rather, but there is no other way. I tried once to 
 give music lessons. I had a few pupils, but they never 
 paid they never do pay." 
 
 "I wish I could think of something," Laverick said 
 thoughtfully. "Of course, it is occupation you want. 
 So far as regards the monetary part of it, I still owe your 
 brother a great deal 
 
 She shook her head, interrupting him with a quick 
 little gesture. 
 
 "No, no!" she declared. "I have never complained 
 about Arthur. Sometimes he made me suffer, because I 
 know that he was ashamed of having a relative in the 
 chorus, but I am quite sure that I do not wish to take any 
 of his money or of anybody else's," she added. " I 
 want always to earn my own living." 
 
 "For such a child," he remarked, smiling, "you are 
 wonderfully independent." 
 
 "Why not?" she answered softly. "It is years since 
 I had any one to do very much for me. Necessity teaches 
 us a good many things. Oh, I was helpless enough when 
 it began !" she added, with a little sigh. "I got over it. 
 We all do. Tell me who is that woman, and why does 
 she stare so at you?" 
 
 Laverick looked across the room. Louise and Bel- 
 lamy were sitting at the opposite table. The former 
 was strikingly handsome and very wonderfully dressed. 
 Her closely clinging gown, cut slightly open in front, dis- 
 played her marvelous figure. She wore long pearl ear- 
 rings, and a hat with white feathers which drooped over 
 her fair hair. Laverick recognized her at once.
 
 LAVERICK IS CROSS-EXAMINED 159 
 
 "It is Mademoiselle Idiale," he said, "the most won- 
 derful soprano in the world." 
 
 " Why does she look so at you ?" Zoe asked. 
 
 Laverick shook his head. 
 
 "I do not know her," he said. "I know who she is, 
 of course, every one does. She is a Servian, and they 
 say that she is devoted to her country. She left Vienna 
 at a moment's notice, only a few days ago, and they say 
 that it was because she had sworn never to sing again 
 before the enemies of her country. She had been en- 
 gaged a long time to appear at Covent Garden, but no 
 one believed that she would really come. She breaks her 
 engagements just when she chooses. In fact, she is a 
 very wonderful person altogether." 
 
 "I never saw such pearls in my life," Zoe whispered. 
 "And how lovely she is! I do not understand, though, 
 why she is so interested in you." 
 
 "She mistakes me for some one, perhaps." 
 
 It certainly seemed probable. Even at that moment 
 she touched her escort upon the arm, and he distinctly 
 looked across at Laverick. It was obvious that he was 
 the subject of her conversation. 
 
 "I know the man," Laverick said. "He was at Har- 
 row with me, and I have played cricket with him since. 
 But I have certainly never met Mademoiselle Idiale. One 
 does not forget that sort of person." 
 
 "Her figure is magnificent," Zoe murmured wistfully. 
 "Do you like tall women very much, Mr. Laverick?" 
 
 "I adore them," he answered, smiling, "but I prefer 
 small ones." 
 
 "We are very foolish people, you and I," she laughed. 
 "We came together so strangely and yet we talk such 
 frivolous nonsense."
 
 i6o HAVOC 
 
 " You are making me young again," he declared. 
 
 "Oh, you are quite young enough!" she assured him. 
 "To tell you the truth, I am jealous. Mademoiselle 
 Idiale looks at you all the time. Look at her now. Is she 
 not beautiful?" 
 
 There was no doubt about her beauty, but those who 
 were criticising her and she was by far the most in- 
 teresting person in the room thought her a little sad. 
 Though Bellamy was doing his utmost to be entertaining, 
 her eyes seemed to travel every now and then over his 
 head and out of the room. Wherever her thoughts were, 
 one could be very sure that they were not fixed upon the 
 subject under discussion. 
 
 "She is like that when she sings," Laverick remarked. 
 "She has none of the vivacity of the Frenchwomen. Yet 
 there was never anything so graceful in the world as the 
 way she moves about the stage." 
 
 "If I were a man," Zoe sighed, "that is the sort of 
 woman I would die for." 
 
 "If you were a man," he replied, "you would probably 
 find some one whom you preferred to live for. Do you 
 know, you are rather a morbid sort of person, Miss Zoe ?" 
 
 "Ah, I like that !" she declared. "I will not be called 
 Miss Leneveu any more by you. You must call me Miss 
 Zoe, please, Zoe, if you like." 
 
 "Zoe, by all means. Under the circumstances, I think 
 it is only fitting." 
 
 His eyes wandered across the room again. 
 
 " Ah ! " she cried softly, " you, too, are coming under 
 the spell, then. I was reading about her only the other 
 day. They say that so many men fall in love with her 
 so many men to whom she gives no encouragement at 
 all."
 
 LAVERICK IS CROSS-EXAMINED 161 
 
 Laverick looked into his companion's face. 
 
 "Come," he said, "my heart is not so easily won. I 
 can assure you that I never aspire to so mighty a per- 
 sonage as a Covent Garden star. Don't you know that 
 she gets a salary of five hundred pounds a week, and wears 
 ropes of pearls which would represent ten times my entire 
 income? Heaven alone knows what her gowns cost!" 
 
 "After all, though," murmured Zoe, "she is a woman. 
 See, your friend is coming to speak to you." 
 
 Bellamy was indeed crossing the room. He nodded to 
 Laverick and bowed to his companion. 
 
 "Forgive my intruding, Laverick," he said. "You do 
 remember me, I hope? Bellamy, you know." 
 
 " I remember you quite well. We used to play together 
 at Lord's, even after we left school." 
 
 Bellamy smiled. 
 
 "That is so," he answered. "I see by the papers 
 that you have kept up your cricket. Mine, alas ! has 
 had to go. I have been too much of a rolling stone 
 lately. Do you know that I have come to ask you 
 a favor?" 
 
 " Go ahead," Laverick interposed. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Idiale has a fancy to meet you," Bel- 
 lamy explained. "You know, or I dare say you have 
 heard, what a creature of whims she is. If you won't 
 come across and be introduced like a good fellow, she 
 probably won't speak a word all through supper-time, go 
 off in a huff, and my evening will be spoiled." 
 
 Laverick laughed heartily. A little smile played at 
 the corner of Zoe's lips nevertheless, she was looking 
 slightly anxious. 
 
 "Under those circumstances," remarked Laverick, 
 "perhaps I had better go. You will understand," he
 
 162 HAVOC 
 
 added, with a glance at Zoe, "that I cannot stay for 
 more than a second." 
 
 "Naturally," Bellamy answered. "If Mademoiselle 
 really has anything to say to you, I will, if I am permitted, 
 return for a moment." 
 
 Laverick introduced him to Zoe. 
 
 "I am sure I have seen you at the Universal," he de- 
 clared. " You 're in the front row, are n't you ? I have 
 seen you in that clever little step-dance and song in the 
 second act." 
 
 She nodded, evidently pleased. 
 
 "Does it seem clever to you?" she asked wistfully. 
 "You see, we are all so tired of it." 
 
 "I think it is ripping," Bellamy declared. "I shall 
 have the pleasure again directly," he added, with a bow. 
 
 The two men crossed the room. 
 
 "What the dickens does Mademoiselle Idiale want 
 with me?" Laverick demanded. "Does she know that 
 I am a poor stockbroker, struggling against hard times?" 
 
 Bellamy shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " She is n't the sort to care who or what you are," he 
 answered. "And as for the rest, I suppose she could buy 
 any of us up if she wanted to. Her interest in you is rather 
 a curious one. No time to explain it now. She'll tell 
 
 you." 
 
 Louise smiled as he paused before her. She was cer- 
 tainly exquisitely beautiful. Her dress, her carriage, her 
 delicate hands, even her voice, were all perfection. She 
 gave him the tips of her fingers as Bellamy pronounced 
 his name. 
 
 "It is so kind of you," she said, "to come and speak 
 to me. And indeed you will laugh when I tell you Y/..V I 
 thought that I would like to say one word with you."
 
 LAVERICK IS CROSS-EXAMINED 163 
 
 Laverick bowed. 
 
 "I am thankful, Mademoiselle," he replied, "for any- 
 thing which procures me such a pleasure." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "Ah! you, too, are gallant," she said. "But indeed, 
 then, I fear you will not be flattered when I tell you why 
 I was so interested. I read all your newspapers. I read 
 of that terrible murder in Crooked Friars' Alley only a 
 few days ago, is not that how you call the place ?" 
 
 Laverick was suddenly grave. What was this that was 
 coming ? 
 
 ''One of the reports," she continued, "says that the 
 man was a foreigner. The maker's name upon his clothes 
 was Austrian. I, too, come from that part of Europe 
 if not from Austria, from a country very near and I 
 am always interested in my country-people. A few mo- 
 ments ago I asked my friend Mr. Bellamy, 'Where is 
 this Crooked Friars' Alley?' Just then he bowed to you, 
 and he answered me, 'It is in the city. It is within a 
 yard or two of the offices of the gentleman to whom I 
 just have said good-evening.' So I looked across at you 
 and I thought that it was strange." 
 
 Laverick scarcely knew what to say. 
 
 "It was a terrible affair," he admitted, "and, as Mr. 
 Bellamy has told you, it occurred within a few steps of 
 my office. So far, too, the police seem completely at a 
 loss." 
 
 "Ah!" she went on, shaking her head, "your police, 
 I am afraid they are not very clever. It is too bad, but I 
 am afraid that it is so. Tell me, Mr. Laverick, is this, 
 then, a very lonely spot where your offices are?" 
 
 "Xot at all," Laverick replied. "On the contrary, in 
 the daytime it might be called the heart of the city of
 
 164 HAVOC 
 
 the money-making part of the city, at any rate. Only 
 this thing, you see, seems to have taken place very late 
 at night." 
 
 "When all the offices were closed," she remarked. 
 
 "Most of them," Laverick answered. "Mine, as it 
 happened, was open late that night. I passed the spot 
 within half-an-hour or so of the time when the murder 
 must have been committed." 
 
 "But that is terrible !" she declared, shaking her head. 
 "Tell me, Mr. Laverick, if I drive to your office some 
 morning you will show me this place, yes?" 
 
 "If you are in earnest, Mademoiselle, I will certainly 
 do so, but there is nothing there. It is just a passage." 
 
 "You give me your address," she insisted, "and I think 
 that I will come. You are a stockbroker, Mr. Bellamy 
 tells me. Well, sometimes I have a good deal of money 
 to invest. I come to you and you will give me your ad- 
 vice. So! You have a card!" 
 
 Laverick found one and scribbled his city address upon 
 it. She thanked him and once more held out the tips of 
 her fingers. 
 
 "So I shall see you again some day, Mr. Laverick." 
 
 He bowed and recrossed the room. Bellamy was stand- 
 ing talking to Zoe. 
 
 " Well," he asked, as Laverick returned, " are you, too, 
 going to throw yourself beneath the car?" 
 
 Laverick shook his head. 
 
 "I do not think so," he answered. "Our acquaintance 
 promises to be a business one. Mademoiselle spoke of 
 investing some money through me." 
 
 Bellamy laughed. 
 
 "Then you have kept your heart," he remarked. "Ah, 
 well, you have every reason !"
 
 LAVERICK IS CROSS-EXAMINED 165 
 
 He bowed to Zoe, nodded to Laverick, and re- 
 turned to his place. Laverick looked after him a 
 little compassionately. 
 
 " Poor fellow," he said. 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "He has some sort of a Government appointment," 
 Laverick answered. "They say he is hopelessly in love 
 with Mademoiselle Idiale." 
 
 "Why not?" Zoe exclaimed. "He is nice. She must 
 care for some one. Why do you pity him ?" 
 
 " They say, too, that she has no more heart than a stone," 
 Laverick continued. " and that never a man has had even 
 a kind word from her. She is very patriotic, and all the 
 thoughts and love she has to spare from herself are given 
 to her country." 
 
 Zoe shuddered. 
 
 "Ah!" she murmured, "I do not like to think of 
 heartless women. Perhaps she is not so cruel, after all. 
 To me she seems only very, very sad. Tell me, Mr. Lave- 
 rick, why did she send for you?" 
 
 "I imagine," said he, "that it was a whim. It must 
 have been a whim."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MADEMOISELLE IDIALE's VISIT 
 
 LAVERICK, on the following morning, found many things 
 to think about. He was accustomed to lunch always at 
 the same restaurant, within a few yards of his office, and 
 with the same little company of friends. Just as he was 
 leaving, an outside broker whom he knew slightly came 
 across the room to him. 
 
 "Tell me, Laverick," he asked, "what's become of 
 your partner?" 
 
 "He has gone abroad for a few weeks. As a matter of 
 fact, we shall be announcing a change in the firm shortly." 
 
 " Queer thing," the broker remarked. " I was in Liver- 
 pool yesterday, and I could have sworn that I saw him 
 hanging around the docks. I should never have doubted 
 it, but Morrison was always so careful about his appear- 
 ance, and this fellow was such a seedy-looking individual. 
 I called out to him and he vanished like a streak." 
 
 "It could scarcely have been Morrison," Laverick 
 said. "He sailed several days ago for New York." 
 
 "That settles it," the man declared, passing on. "All 
 the same, it was the most extraordinary likeness I ever 
 saw." 
 
 Laverick, on his way back, went into a cable office and 
 wrote out a marconigram to the Lusitania, 
 
 Have you passenger Arthur Morrison on board ? Reply. 
 
 He signed his name and paid for an answer. Then he 
 went back to his office.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IDIALE'S VISIT 167 
 
 "Any one to see me?" he inquired. 
 
 " Mr. Shepherd is here waiting," his clerk told him, 
 "queer looking fellow who paid you two hundred and 
 fifty pounds in cash for some railway stock." 
 
 Layerick nodded. 
 
 "I'll see him," he said. "Anything else?" 
 
 " A lady rang up name sounded like a French one, 
 but we could none of us catch what it was to say that 
 she was coming down to see you." 
 
 "If it is Mademoiselle Idiale," Laverick directed, "I 
 must see her directly she arrives. How are you, Shep- 
 herd?" he added, nodding to the waiter as he passed 
 towards his room. "Come in, will you? You've got 
 your certificates all right?" 
 
 Mr. James Shepherd had the air of a man with whom 
 prosperity had not wholly agreed. He was paler and 
 pastier-looking than ever, and his little green eyes seemed 
 even more restless. His attire a long rough overcoat 
 over the livery of his profession scarcely enhanced the 
 dignity of his appearance. 
 
 "Well, what is it?" Laverick asked, as soon as the 
 door was closed. 
 
 "Our bar is being watched," the man declared. "I 
 don't think it's anything to do with the police. Seems 
 to be a sort of foreign gang. They're all round the 
 place, morning, noon, and night. They've pumped 
 everybody." 
 
 " There is n't very much," Laverick remarked slowly, 
 "for them to find out except from you." 
 
 "They've found out something, anyway," Shepherd 
 continued. "My junior waiter, unfortunately, who was 
 asleep in the sitting-room, told them he was sure there 
 were customers in the place between ten and twelve on
 
 168 HAVOC 
 
 Monday night, because they woke him up twice, talking. 
 They're beginning to look at me a bit doubtful." 
 
 " I should n't worry," Laverick advised. " The in- 
 quest 's on now and you have n't been called. I don't 
 fancy you're running any sort of risk. Any one may say 
 they believe there were people in the bar between those 
 hours, but there is n't any one who can contradict you 
 outright. Besides, you have n't sworn to anything. 
 You've simply said, as might be very possible, that you 
 don't remember any one." 
 
 "It makes me a bit nervous, though," Shepherd re- 
 marked apologetically. "They're a regular keen-looking 
 tribe, I can tell you. Their eyes seem to follow you all 
 over the place." 
 
 " I shall come in for a drink presently myself," Laverick 
 declared. " I should like to see them. I might get an idea 
 as to their nationality, at any rate." 
 
 "Very good, sir. I'm sure I'm doing just as you sug- 
 gested. I've said nothing about leaving, but I'm begin- 
 ning to grumble a bit at the work, so as to pave the way. 
 It's a hard job, and no mistake. I had thirty-nine chops 
 between one and half-past, single-handed, too, with only 
 a boy to carry the bread and that, and no one to serve the 
 drinks unless they go to the counter for them. It's more 
 than one man's work, Mr. Laverick." 
 
 Laverick assented. 
 
 "So much the better," he declared. "All the more 
 excuse for your leaving." 
 
 "You'll be round sometime to-day, sir, then?" the 
 man asked, taking up his hat. 
 
 "I shall look in for a few moments, for certain," Lav- 
 erick answered. " If you get a chance you must point out 
 to me one of those fellows."
 
 MADEMOISELLE IDIALE'S VISIT 169 
 
 Jim Shepherd departed. There was a shouting of 
 newspaper boys in the street outside. Laverick sent out 
 for a paper. The account of the inquest was brief 
 enough, and there were no witnesses called except the 
 men who had found the dead body. The nature of the 
 wounds was explained to the jury, also the impossibility 
 of their having been self-inflicted. In the absence of any 
 police evidence or any identification, the discussion as 
 to the manner of the death was naturally limited. The 
 jury contented themselves by bringing in a verdict of 
 " Wilful murder against some person or persons un- 
 known." Laverick laid down the paper. The comple- 
 tion of the inquest was at least the first definite step 
 toward safety. The question now before him was what 
 to do with that twenty thousand pounds. He sat at his 
 desk, looking into vacancy. After all, had he paid too 
 great a price? The millstone was gone from around his 
 neck, something new and incomprehensible had crept 
 into his life. Yet for a background there was always 
 this secret knowledge. 
 
 A clerk announcing Mademoiselle Idiale broke in upon 
 his reflections. Laverick rose from his seat to greet his 
 visitor. She was wonderfully dressed, as usual, yet with 
 the utmost simplicity, a white serge gown with a large 
 black hat, but a gown that seemed to have been moulded 
 on to her slim, faultless figure. She brought with her a 
 musical rustle, a slight suggestion of subtle perfumes 
 a perfume so thin and ethereal that it was unrecognizable 
 except in its faint suggestion of hothouse flowers. She 
 held out her hand to Laverick, who placed for her at once 
 an easy-chair. 
 
 "This is indeed an honor, Mademoiselle." 
 
 She inclined her head graciously.
 
 170 HAVOC 
 
 "You are very kind," said she. "I know that here in 
 the city you are very busy making money all the time, so 
 I must not stay long. Will you buy me some stocks, 
 some good safe stocks, which will bring me in at least four 
 per cent ? " 
 
 " I can promise to do that," Laverick answered. " Have 
 you any choice?" 
 
 "No, I have no choice," Louise told him. "I bring 
 with me a cheque, see, I give it to you, it is for six 
 thousand pounds. I would like to buy some stocks with 
 this, and to know the names so that I may watch them in 
 the paper. I like to see whether they go up or down, but 
 I do not wish to risk their going down too much. It is 
 something like gambling but it is no trouble." 
 
 "Your money shall be spent in a few minutes, Made- 
 moiselle," Laverick assured her, "and I think I can 
 promise you that for a week or two, at any rate, your 
 stocks will go up. With regard to selling 
 
 "I leave everything to you," she interrupted, "only let 
 me know what you propose." 
 
 "We will do our best," Laverick promised. 
 
 "It is good," she said. "Money is a wonderful thing. 
 Without it one can do little. You have not forgotten, 
 Mr. Laverick, that you were going to show me this 
 passage ? " 
 
 " Certainly not. Come with me now, if you will. It is 
 only a yard or two away." 
 
 He took her out into the street. Every clerk in the 
 office forgot his manners and craned his neck. Outside, 
 Mademoiselle let fall her veil and passed unrecognized. 
 Laverick showed her the entry. 
 
 "It was just there," he explained, "about half a dozen 
 yards up on the left, that the body was found."
 
 MADEMOISELLE IDIALE'S VISIT 171 
 
 She looked at the place steadily. Then she looked 
 along the passage. 
 
 " Where does it lead to that ?" she asked. 
 
 " Come and I will show you. On the left " as they 
 passed along the flagged pavement " is St. Nicholas 
 Church and churchyard. On the right here there are 
 just offices. The street in front of us is Henschell Street. 
 All of those buildings are stockbrokers' offices." 
 
 " And directly opposite," she asked, " that is a cafe, 
 is it not, a restaurant, as you would call it?" 
 
 Laverick nodded. 
 
 "That is so," he agreed. " One goes in there sometimes 
 for a drink." 
 
 "And a meeting place, perhaps?" she inquired. "It 
 would probably be a meeting place. One might leave 
 there and walk down this passage naturally enough." 
 
 Laverick inclined his head. 
 
 " As a matter of fact," he declared, " I think that the 
 evidence went to prove that there were no visitors in the 
 restaurant that night. You see, all these offices round 
 here close at six or seven o'clock, and the whole neigh- 
 borhood becomes deserted." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders impatiently. 
 
 "Your English police, they do not know how to collect 
 evidence. In the hands of Frenchmen, this mystery 
 would have been solved long before now. The guilty 
 person would be in the hands of the law. As it is, I sup- 
 pose that he will go free." 
 
 " Well, we must give the police a chance, at any rate," 
 answered Laverick. " They have n't had much time 
 so far." 
 
 "No," she admitted, "they have not had much time. 
 I wonder " She hesitated for a moment and did not
 
 172 HAVOC 
 
 conclude her sentence. "Come," she exclaimed, with a 
 little shiver, " let us go back to your office ! This place is 
 not cheerful. All the time I think of that poor man. It 
 <loes make me frightened." 
 
 Laverick escorted his visitor back to the electric 
 brougham which was waiting before his door. 
 
 "A list of stocks purchased on your behalf will reach 
 you by to-night's post," he promised her. "We shall do 
 our best in your interests." 
 
 He held out his hand, but she seemed in no hurry to 
 let him go. 
 
 "You are very kind, Mr. Laverick. I would like to 
 see you again very soon. You have heard me sing in 
 Samson and Delilah ?" 
 
 "Not yet, but I am hoping to very shortly." 
 
 "To-night," she declared, "you must come to the 
 Opera House. I leave a box for you at the door. Send 
 me round a note that you are there, and it is possible that 
 I may see you. It is against the rules, but for me there 
 are no rules." 
 
 Laverick hesitating, she leaned forward and looked 
 into his face. 
 
 "You are doing something else?" she protested. 
 "You were, perhaps, thinking of taking out again the 
 little girl with whom you were sitting last night?" 
 
 " I had half promised 
 
 "No, no!" she exclaimed, holding his hand tighter. 
 " She is not for you that child. She is too young. She 
 knows nothing. Better to leave her alone. She is not for 
 a man of the world like you. Soon she would cease to 
 amuse you. You would be dull and she would still care. 
 Oh, there is so much tragedy in these things, Mr. Laverick 
 so much tragedy for the woman ! It is she always
 
 MADEMOISELLE IDIALE'S VISIT 173 
 
 who suffers. You will take my advice. You will leave 
 that little girl alone." 
 
 Laverick smiled. 
 
 "I am afraid," said he, "that I cannot promise that so 
 quickly. You see, I have not known her long, but she 
 has very few friends and I think that she would miss me 
 Perhaps," he added, after a second's pause, "I care for 
 her too much." 
 
 "It is not for you," she answered scornfully, "to care 
 too much. An Englishman, he cares never enough. A 
 woman to him is something amusing, his companion 
 for a little of his spare time, something to be pleased 
 about, to show off to his friends, to share, even, the 
 passion of the moment. But an Englishman he does not 
 care too much. He never cares enough. He does not 
 know what it is to care enough." 
 
 "Mademoiselle, there may be truth in what you 
 say, and again there may not. We have the name, I 
 know, of being cold lovers, but at least we are 
 faithful." 
 
 She held up her hand with a little grimace. 
 
 "Oh, how I do hate that word!" she exclaimed. 
 "Who is there, indeed, who wishes that you would be 
 faithful ? How much we poor women do suffer from that ! 
 Why can you never understand that a woman would be 
 cared for very, very much, with all the strength and all 
 the passion you can conceive, but let it not last for too 
 long. It gets weary. It gets stale. It is as you say, - 
 the Englishman he cares very little, perhaps, but he 
 cares always; and the woman, if she be an artiste and 
 a woman, she tires. But good afternoon, Mr Laverick ! 
 I must not keep you here on the pavement talking of 
 these frivolous matters. You come to-night?"
 
 i 7 4 HAVOC 
 
 "You are very kind," Laverick said. "If I may 
 come until eleven o'clock, it would give me the greatest 
 pleasure." 
 
 "As you will," she declared. "We shall see. I expect 
 you, then. You ask for your box." 
 
 " If you wish it, certainly." 
 
 She smiled and waved her hand. 
 
 "You will tell him, please," she directed, "to drive to 
 Bond Street." 
 
 Laverick re-entered his office, pausing for a minute to 
 give his clerk instructions for the purchase of stocks for 
 Mademoiselle Idiale. He had scarcely reached his own 
 room when he was told that Mr. James Shepherd wished 
 to speak to him for a moment upon the telephone. He 
 took up the receiver. 
 
 "Who is it?" he asked. 
 
 "It is Shepherd," was the answer. "Is that Mr. 
 Laverick ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "You were outside the restaurant here a few minutes 
 ago," Shepherd continued. " You had with you a lady 
 a young, tall lady with a veil." 
 
 "That's right," Laverick admitted. "What about 
 her?" 
 
 "One of the two men who watch always here was 
 reading the paper in the window," Shepherd went on 
 hoarsely. " He saw her with you and I heard him mutter 
 something as though he had received a shock. He dropped 
 his glass and his paper. He watched you every second of 
 the time you were there until you had disappeared. Then 
 he, too, put on his hat and went out." 
 
 "Anything else?" 
 
 "Nothing else," was the reply. "I thought you might
 
 MADEMOISELLE IDIALE'S VISIT 175 
 
 like to know this, sir. The man recognized the lady 
 right enough." 
 
 "It seems queer," Laverick admitted. "Thank you 
 for ringing me up, Shepherd. Good morning !" 
 
 Laverick leaned back in his chair. There was no doubt 
 whatever now in his mind but that Mademoiselle Idiale, 
 for some reason or other, was interested in this crime. 
 Her wish to see the place, her introduction to him last 
 night and her purchase of stocks, were all part of a scheme. 
 He was suddenly and absolutely convinced of it. As 
 friend or foe, she was very certainly about to take her 
 place amongst the few people over whom this tragedy 
 loomed.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 ACTIVITY OF AUSTRIAN SPIES 
 
 LOUISE left her brougham in Piccadilly and walked 
 across the Green Park. Bellamy, who was waiting, rose 
 up from a seat, hat in hand. She took his arm in foreign 
 fashion. They walked together towards Buckingham 
 Palace a strangely distinguished-looking couple. 
 
 "My dear David," she said, "the man perplexes me. 
 To look at him, to hear him speak, one would swear that 
 he was honest. He has just those clear blue eyes and 
 the stolid face, half stupid and half splendid, of your 
 athletic Englishman. One would imagine him doing a 
 foolishly honorable thing, but he is not my conception of 
 a criminal at all." 
 
 Bellamy kicked a pebble from the path. His forehead 
 wore a perplexed frown. 
 
 "He did n't give himself away, then?" 
 
 "Not in the least." 
 
 "He took you out and showed you the spot where it 
 happened ? " 
 
 "Without an instant's hesitation." 
 
 "As a matter of curiosity," asked Bellamy, "did he try 
 to make love to you ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "I even gave him an opening," she said. "Of flirta- 
 tion he has no more idea than the average stupid English- 
 man one meets." 
 
 Bellamy was silent for several moments.
 
 ACTIVITY OF AUSTRIAN SPIES 177 
 
 "I can't believe," he said, "that there is the least 
 doubt but that he has the money and the portfolio. I 
 have made one or two other inquiries, and I find that his 
 firm was in very low water indeed only a week ago. They 
 were spoken of, in fact, as being hopelessly insolvent. 
 No one can imagine how they tided over the crisis." 
 
 "The man who was watching for you?" she -inquired. 
 
 "He makes no mistakes," Bellamy assured her. "He 
 saw Laverick enter that passage and come out. After- 
 wards he went back to his office, although he had closed 
 up there and had been on his homeward way. The 
 thing could not have been accidental." 
 
 "Why do you not go to him openly?" she suggested. 
 "He is, after all, an Englishman, and when you tell him 
 what you know he will be very much in your power. Tell 
 him of the value of that document. Tell him that you 
 must have it." 
 
 "It could be done," Bellamy admitted. "I think that 
 one of us must talk plainly to him. Listen, Louise, - 
 are you seeing him again?" 
 
 "I have invited him to come to the Opera House 
 to-night." 
 
 "See what you can do," he begged. "I would rather 
 keep away from him myself, if I can. Have you heard 
 anything of Streuss?" 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 ''Nothing directly," she replied, "but my rooms have 
 been searched even my dressing-room at the Opera 
 Souse. That man's spies are simply wonderful. He 
 seems able to plant them everywhere. And, David ! 
 
 "Yes, dear?" 
 
 "He has got hold of Lassen," she continued. "I am 
 perfectly certain of it."
 
 178 HAVOC 
 
 Then the sooner you get rid of Lassen, the better," 
 Bellamy declared. 
 
 "It is so difficult," she murmured, in a perplexed tone. 
 "The man has all my affairs in his hands. Up till now, 
 although he is uncomely, and a brute in many ways, he 
 has served me well." 
 
 "If he is Streuss's creature he must go," Bellamy 
 insisted. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Let us sit down for a few minutes," she said. "I am 
 tired." 
 
 She sank on to a seat and Bellamy sat by her side. 
 In full view of them was Buckingham Palace with its 
 flag flying. She looked thoughtfully at it and across to 
 Westminster. 
 
 "Do they know, I wonder, your country-people ?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Half-a-dozen of them, perhaps," he answered gloomily, 
 "no more." 
 
 "To-day," she declared, "I seem to have lost confi- 
 dence. I seem to feel the sense of impending calamity, 
 to hear the guns as I walk, to see the terror fall upon the 
 faces of all these great crowds who throng your streets. 
 They are a stolid, unbelieving people these. The blow, 
 when it comes, will be the harder." 
 
 Bellamy sighed. 
 
 "You are right," he said. "When one comes to think 
 of it, it is amazing. How long the prophets of woe have 
 preached, and how completely their teachings have been 
 ignored ! The invasion bogey has been so long among us 
 that it has become nothing but a jest. Even I, in a way, 
 am one of the unbelievers." 
 
 "You are not serious, David !" she exclaimed.
 
 ACTIVITY OF AUSTRIAN SPIES 179 
 
 "I am," he affirmed. "I think that if we could read 
 that document we should see that there is no plan there 
 for the immediate invasion of England. I think you 
 would find that the blow would be struck simultaneously 
 at our Colonies. We should either have to submit or 
 send a considerable fleet away from home waters. Then, 
 I presume, the question of invasion would come again. 
 All the time, of course, the gage would be flung down, 
 treaties would be defied, we should be scorned as though 
 we were a nation of weaklings. Austria would gather in 
 what she wanted, and there would be no one to interfere." 
 
 Louise was very pale but her eyes were flashing fire. 
 
 "It is the most terrible thing which has happened in 
 history," she said, "this decadence of your country. 
 Once England held the scales of justice for the world. 
 Now she is no longer strong enough, and there is none 
 to take her place. David, even if you know what that 
 document contains, even then will it help very much?" 
 
 "Very much indeed. Don't you see that there is one 
 hope left to us one hope and that is Russia ? The 
 Czar must be made to withdraw from that compact. We 
 want to know his share in it. When we know that, there 
 will be a secret mission sent to Russia. Germany and 
 Austria are strong, but they are not all the world. With 
 Russia behind and France and England westward, the 
 struggle is at least an equal one. They have to face both 
 directions, they have to face two great armies working 
 from the east and from the west." 
 
 She nodded, and they sat there in silence for several 
 moments. Bellamy was thinking deeply. 
 
 "You say, Louise," he asked, looking up quickly, 
 "that your rooms have been searched. When was this?" 
 
 " Only last night," she replied.
 
 i8o HAVOC 
 
 Bellamy drew a little sigh of relief. 
 
 "At any rate," he said, "Streuss has no idea that the 
 document is not in our possession. He knows nothing 
 about Laverick. How are we going to deal with him, 
 Louise, when he comes for his answer?" 
 
 "You have a plan?" she asked. 
 
 "There is only one thing to be done," Bellamy de- 
 clared. "I shall say that we have already handed over 
 the document to the English Government. It will be a 
 bluff, pure and simple. He may believe it or he may 
 not." 
 
 "You will break your compact then," she reminded 
 him. 
 
 "I shall call myself justified," he continued. "He has 
 attempted to rob us of the document. You are sure of 
 what you say that your rooms and dressing-room have 
 been searched?" 
 
 "Absolutely certain," she declared. 
 
 "That will be sufficient," Bellamy decided. "If 
 Streuss comes to me, I shall meet him frankly. I shall 
 tell him that he has tried to play the burglar and that it 
 must be war. I shall tell him that the compact is in the 
 hands of the Prime Minister, and that he and his spies 
 had better clear out." 
 
 She looked at him questioningly. 
 
 "Of course, you understand," he added, "there is one 
 thing we can do, and one thing only. We must send a 
 mission to Russia and another to France, and before the 
 German fleet can pass down the North Sea we must de- 
 clare war. It is the only thing left to us a bold front. 
 Without that packet we have no casus belli. With it, 
 we can strike, and strike hard. I still believe that if we 
 declare war within seven days, we shall save ourselves."
 
 ACTIVITY OF AUSTRIAN SPIES 181 
 
 Streuss and Kahn looked, too, across the panorama of 
 London, across the dingy Adelphi Gardens, the turbid 
 Thames, the smoke-hung world beyond. They were 
 together in Streuss's sitting-room on the seventh floor of 
 one of the great Strand hotels. 
 
 " Our enterprise is a failure ! " Kahn exclaimed gloomily. 
 "We cannot doubt it any longer. I think, Streuss, that 
 the best course you and I could adopt would be to realize 
 it and to get back. We do no good here. We only run 
 needless risks." 
 
 The face of the other man was dark with anger. His 
 tone, when he spoke, shook with passi6n. 
 
 "You don't know what you say, Kahn!" he cried 
 hoarsely. "I tell you that we must succeed. If that 
 document reaches the hands of any one in authority here, 
 it would be the worst disaster which has fallen upon our 
 country since you or I were born. You don't understand, 
 Kahn ! You keep your eyes closed !" 
 
 " What men can do we have done," the other answered. 
 "Von Behrling played us false. He has died a traitor's 
 death, but it is very certain that he parted with his docu- 
 ment before he received that twenty thousand pounds." 
 
 "Once and for all, I do not believe it!" Streuss de- 
 clared. "At mid-day, I can swear to it that the contents 
 of that envelope were unknown to the Ministers of the 
 King here. Now if Von Behrling had parted with that 
 document last Monday night, don't you suppose that 
 everything would be known by now? He did not part 
 with it. Bellamy and Mademoiselle lie when they say 
 that they possess it. That document remains in the 
 possession of Von Behrling's murderer, and it is for us 
 to find him." 
 
 Kahn sighed.
 
 182 HAVOC 
 
 " It is outside our sphere that. What can we do 
 against the police of this country working in their own 
 land?" 
 
 Streuss struck the table before which they were stand- 
 ing. The veins in his temples were like whipcord. 
 
 "Adolf," he muttered, "you talk like a fool! Can't 
 you see what it means? If that document reaches its 
 destination, what do you suppose will happen?" 
 
 "They will know our plans, of course," Kahn an- 
 swered. "They will have time to make preparation." 
 
 Streuss laughed bitterly. 
 
 "Worse than that!" he exclaimed. "They are not 
 all fools, these English statesmen, though one would 
 think so to read their speeches. Can't you see what the 
 result would be if that document reaches Downing Street ? 
 War at a moment's notice, war six months too soon ! 
 Don't you know that every shipbuilding yard in Germany 
 is working night and day? Don't you know that every 
 nerve is being strained, that the muscles of the country 
 are hammering the rivets into our new battleships ? There 
 is but one chance for this country, and if her statesmen 
 read that document they will know what it is. It is open 
 to them to destroy the German navy utterly, to render 
 themselves secure against attack." 
 
 "They would never have the courage," Kahn declared. 
 "They might make a show of defending themselves if 
 they were attacked, but to take the initiative no ! I do 
 not believe it." 
 
 "There is one man who has wit enough to do it," 
 Streuss said. "He may not be in the Cabinet, but he 
 commands it. Kahn, wake up, man ! You and I to- 
 gether have never known what failure means. I tell you 
 that that document is still to be bought or fought for,
 
 ACTIVITY OF AUSTRIAN SPIES 183 
 
 and we must find it. This morning Mademoiselle drove 
 into the city and called at the offices of a stockbroker 
 within a dozen yards of Crooked Friars' Alley. She was 
 there a long time. The stockbroker himself came out 
 with her into the street, took her to see the entry, stood 
 with her there and returned. What was her interest in 
 him, Kahn? His name is Laverick. Four days ago he 
 was on the brink of ruin. To the amazement of every one, 
 he met all his engagements. Why did Mademoiselle go 
 to the city to see him ? He was at his office late that Tues- 
 day night. He had a partner who has disappeared." 
 
 Kahn looked at his companion with admiration. 
 
 "You have found all this out !" he exclaimed. 
 
 "And more," Streuss declared. "For twenty-four 
 hours, this man Laverick has not moved without my 
 spies at his heels." 
 
 "Why not approach him boldly?" Kahn suggested. 
 "If he has the document, let us outbid Mademoiselle 
 Louise, and do it quickly." 
 
 Streuss shook his head. 
 
 "You don't know the man. He is an Englishman, 
 and if he had any idea what that document contained, 
 our chances of buying it would be small indeed. This 
 is what I think will happen. Mademoiselle will try to 
 obtain it, and try in vain. Then Bellamy will tell him 
 the truth, and he will part with it willingly. In the mean- 
 time, I believe that it is in his possession." 
 
 "The evidence is slender enough," objected Kahn. 
 
 "What if it is!" Streuss exclaimed. "If it is only a 
 hundred to one chance, we have to take it. I have no fancy 
 for disgrace, Adolf, and I know very well what will happen 
 if we go back empty-handed." 
 
 The telephone bell rang. Streuss took off the receiver
 
 i8 4 HAVOC 
 
 and held it to his ear. The words which he spoke were 
 few, but when he laid the instrument down there was a 
 certain amount of satisfaction in his face. 
 
 "At any rate," he announced, "this man Laverick did 
 not part with the document to-day. Mademoiselle Louise 
 and Bellamy have been sitting in the Park for an hour. 
 When they separated, she drove home and dropped him 
 at his club. Up till now, then, they have not the docu- 
 ment. We shall see what Mr. Laverick does when he 
 leaves business this evening; if he goes straight home, 
 either the document has never been in his possession, or 
 else it is in the safe in his office ; if he goes to Mademoiselle 
 Idiale's " 
 
 "Well?" Kahn asked eagerly. 
 
 " If he goes to Mademoiselle Idiale's," Streuss repeated 
 slowly, " there is still a chance for us ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 LAVERICK AT THE OPEEA 
 
 LAVERICK, in presenting his card at the box office at 
 Covent Garden that evening, did so without the slightest 
 misconception of the reasons which had prompted Made- 
 moiselle Idiale to beg him to become her guest. It was 
 sheer curiosity which prompted him to pursue this adven- 
 ture. He was perfectly convinced that personally he had 
 no interest for her. In some way or other he had become 
 connected in her mind with the murder which had taken 
 place within a few yards of hh office, and in some other 
 equally mysterious manner that murder had become a 
 subject of interest to her. Either that, or this was one of 
 the whims of a spoiled and pleasure-surfeited woman. 
 
 He found an excellent box reserved for him, and a 
 measure of courtesy from the attendants not often vouch- 
 safed to an ordinary visitor. The opera was Samson and 
 Delilahy and even before her wonderful voice thrilled the 
 house, it seemed to Laverick that no person more lovely 
 than the woman he had come to see had ever moved upon 
 any stage. It appeared impossible that movement so 
 graceful and passionate should remain so absolutely 
 effortless. There seemed to be some strange power inside 
 the woman. Surely her will guided her feet ! The neces- 
 sity for physical effort never once appeared. Notwith- 
 standing the slight prejudice which he had felt against 
 her, it was impossible to keep his admiration altogether 
 in check. The fascination of her wonderful presence*
 
 186 HAVOC 
 
 and then her glorious voice, moved him with the rest of 
 the audience. He clapped as the others did at the end 
 t)f the first act, and he leaned forward just as eagerly to 
 catch a glimpse of her when she reappeared and stood 
 there with that marvelous smile upon her lips, accepting 
 \vith faint, deprecating gratitude the homage of the 
 packed house. 
 
 Just before the curtain rose upon the second act, there 
 was a knock at his box door. One of the attendants 
 ushered in a short man of somewhat remarkable person- 
 ality. He was barely five feet in height, and an extremely 
 fat neck and a corpulent body gave him almost the ap- 
 pearance of a hunchback. He had black, beady eyes, a 
 black moustache fiercely turned up, and sallow skin. 
 His white gloves had curious stitchings on the back not 
 common in England, and his silk hat, exceedingly glossy, 
 had wider brims than are usually associated with Bond 
 Street. 
 
 Laverick half rose, but the little man spread out one 
 hand and commenced to speak. His accent was foreign, 
 but, if not an Englishman, he at any rate spoke the language 
 with confidence. 
 
 " My dear sir," he began, " I owe you many apologies. 
 It was Mademoiselle Idiale's wish that I should make 
 your acquaintance. My name is Lassen. I have the 
 fortune to be Mademoiselle's business manager." 
 
 "I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Lassen," said La- 
 verick. "Will you sit down?" 
 
 Mr. Lassen thereupon hung his hat upon a peg, removed 
 his overcoat, straightened his white tie with the aid of a 
 looking-glass, brushed back his glossy black hair with 
 the palms of his hands, and took the seat opposite Laverick. 
 His first question was inevitable.
 
 LAVERICK AT THE OPERA 187 
 
 "What do you think of the opera, sir?" 
 
 "It is like Mademoiselle Idiale herself,*' Laverick 
 answered. " It is above criticism." 
 
 " She is," Mr. Lassen said firmly, " the loveliest woman 
 in Europe and her voice is the most wonderful. It is a 
 great combination, this. I myself have managed for 
 many stars, I have brought to England most of those 
 whose names are known during the last ten years; but 
 there has never been another Louise Idiale, never will 
 be." 
 
 ' I can believe it," Laverick admitted. 
 
 She has wonderful qualities, too," continued Mr. 
 Lassen. "Your acquaintance with her, I believe, sir, is 
 of the shortest." 
 
 "That is so," Laverick answered, a little coldly. He 
 was not particularly taken with his visitor. 
 
 "Mademoiselle has spoken to me of you," the latter 
 proceeded. "She desired that I should pay my respects 
 during the performance." 
 
 "It is very kind of you," Laverick answered. "As a 
 matter of fact, it is exceedingly kind, also, of Made- 
 moiselle Idiale to insist upon my coming here to-night. 
 She did me the honor, as you may know, of paying me a 
 visit in the city this morning." 
 
 "So she did 'tell me," Mr. Lassen declared. "Made- 
 moiselle is a great woman of business. Most of her in- 
 vestments she controls herself. She has whims, how- 
 ever, and it never does to contradict her. She has 
 also, curiously enough, a preference for the men of 
 affairs." 
 
 Laverick had reached that stage when he felt indis- 
 posed to discuss Mademoiselle any longer with a stranger, 
 even though that stranger should be her manager. He
 
 i88 HAVOC 
 
 nodded and took up his programme. As he did so, the 
 curtain rang up upon the next act. Laverick turned 
 deliberately towards the stage. The little man had paid 
 his respects, as he put it. Laverick felt disinclined for 
 further conversation with him. Yet, though his head 
 was turned, he knew very well that his companion's eyes 
 were fixed upon him. He had an uncomfortable sense 
 that he was an object of more than ordinary interest to 
 this visitor, that he had come for some specific object 
 which as yet he had not declared. 
 
 "You will like to go round and see Mademoiselle ' 
 the latter remarked, some time afterwards. 
 
 Laverick shook his head. 
 
 "I shall find another opportunity, I hope, to congratu- 
 late her." 
 
 "But, my dear sir, she expects to see you," Mr. Lassen 
 protested. "You are here at her invitation. It is usual, 
 I can assure you." 
 
 " Mademoiselle Idiale will perhaps excuse me," Laver- 
 ick said. "I have an engagement immediately after the 
 performance is over." 
 
 His companion muttered something which Laverick 
 could not catch, and made some excuse to leave the box 
 a few minutes later. When he returned, he carried a 
 little note which he presented to Laverick with an air 
 of triumph. 
 
 "It is as I said!' : he exclaimed. "Mademoiselle 
 expects you." 
 
 Laverick read the few lines which she had written. 
 
 I wish to see you after the performance. If you cannot come 
 round or escort me yourself, will you come later to the restau- 
 rant of Luigi, where, as always, I shall sup. Do not fail. 
 
 LOUISE IDIALE.
 
 i8g 
 
 Laverick placed the note in his waistcoat pocket with- 
 out immediate remark. Later on he turned to his com- 
 panion. 
 
 "Will you tell Mademoiselle Idiale," he said, "that I 
 will do myself the honor of coming to her at Luigi's 
 Restaurant. I have an engagement after the performance 
 which I must keep." 
 
 "You will certainly come?" Lassen asked anxiously. 
 
 "Without a doubt," Laverick promised. 
 
 Mr. Lassen took up his hat. 
 
 " I will go and tell Mademoiselle. For some reason or 
 other she seemed particularly desirous of seeing you this 
 evening. She has her whims, and those who have most 
 to do with her, like myself, find it well to keep them 
 gratified. If I do not see you again, sir, permit me to wish 
 you good evening." 
 
 He disappeared with several bows of his pudgy little 
 person, and Laverick was left with another puzzle to 
 solve. He was not in the least conceited, and he did not 
 for a moment misinterpret this woman's interest in him. 
 Her invitation, he knew very well, was one which half 
 London would have coveted. Yet it meant nothing per- 
 sonal, he was sure of that. It simply meant that for some 
 mysterious reason, the same reason which had prompted 
 her to visit him in the city he was of interest to 
 her. 
 
 At a few minutes before eleven Laverick left the place 
 and drove to the stage-door of the Universal Theatre. 
 Zoe came out among the first and paused upon the thresh- 
 old, looking up and down the street eagerly. When she 
 recognized him, her smile was heavenly. 
 
 "Oh, how nice of you!" she exclaimed, stepp'ng at 
 once into his taxicab. "You don't know how different
 
 igo HAVOC 
 
 it feels to hope that there is some one waiting for you and 
 then to find your hope come true. To-night I was not 
 sure. You had said nothing about it, and yet I could not 
 help believing that you would be here." 
 
 "I was hoping," he said, "that we might have another 
 supper together. Unfortunately, I have an engagement." 
 
 "An engagement?" she repeated, her face falling. 
 
 Laverick loved the truth and he seldom hesitated to 
 tell it. 
 
 "It is rather an odd thing," he declared. "You re- 
 member that woman at Luigi's last night Mademoiselle 
 Idiale?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 " She came to my office to-day and gave me six thousand 
 pounds to invest for her. She made me take her out and 
 show her where the murder was committed, and asked a 
 great many questions about it. Then she insisted that I 
 should go and hear her sing this evening, and I find that 
 I was expected to take her on to supper afterwards. I 
 excused myself for a little while, but I have promised to 
 go to Luigi's, where she will be." 
 
 The girl was silent for a moment. 
 
 "Where are we going now, then?" she asked. 
 
 "Wherever you like. I can take you home first, or I 
 can leave you anywhere." 
 
 She looked at him with a piteous little smile. 
 
 "The last two nights you have spoiled me," she said. 
 "I have so many evil thoughts and I am afraid to go 
 home." 
 
 "I am sorry. If I could think of anything or any- 
 where " 
 
 "No, you must take me home, please," said she. "It 
 was selfish of me. Only Mademoiselle Idiale is such a
 
 LAVERICK AT THE OPERA 191 
 
 wonderful person. Do you think that she will want you 
 every night?" 
 
 " Of course not," he laughed. " Come, I will make an 
 engagement with you. We will have supper together 
 to-morrow evening." 
 
 She brightened up at once. 
 
 "I wonder," she asked timidly, a few minutes after- 
 wards, "have you heard anything from Arthur? He 
 promised to send a telegram from Queenstown." 
 
 Laverick shook his head. He said nothing about the 
 marconigram he had sent, or the answer which he had 
 received informing him that there was no such person OD 
 board. It seemed scarcely worth while to worry her. 
 
 "I have heard nothing," he replied. "Of course, he 
 must be half-way to America by now." 
 
 "There have been no more inquiries about him?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " No more than the usual ones from his friends, and a 
 few creditors. The latter I am paying as they come. But 
 there is one thing you ought to do with me. I think we 
 ought to go to his rooms and lock up his papers and 
 letters. He never even went back, you know, after that 
 night." 
 
 She nodded thoughtfully. 
 
 "When would you like to do this?" 
 
 "I am so busy just now that I am afraid I can spare 
 no time until Monday afternoon. Would you go with 
 me then?" 
 
 " Of course. My time is my own. We have no matinee, 
 and I have nothing to do except in the evening." 
 
 They had reached her home. It looked very dark and 
 very uninviting. She shivered as she took her latchkey 
 from the bag which she was carrying.
 
 ig2 HAVOC 
 
 " Come in with me, please, while I light the gas," she 
 begged. "It looks so dreary, does n't it?" 
 
 "You ought to have some one with you," he declared, 
 "especially in a part like this." 
 
 "Oh, I am not really afraid," she answered. "I am 
 only lonely." 
 
 He stood in the passage while she felt for a box of 
 matches and lit the gas jet. In the parlor there was a 
 bowl of milk standing waiting for her, and some bread. 
 
 " Thank you so much," she said. " Now I am going to 
 make up the fire and read for a short time. I hope that 
 you will enjoy your supper well, moderately," she 
 added, with a little laugh. 
 
 "I can promise you," he answered, "that I shall enjoy 
 it no more than last night's or to-morrow night's." 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 "Poor little me!" she exclaimed. "It is not fair 
 to have to compete with Mademoiselle Idiale. Good 
 night!" 
 
 Something he saw in her eyes moved him strangely as 
 he turned away. 
 
 "Would you like me," he asked hesitatingly, "suppos- 
 ing I get away early would you like me to come in and 
 say good night to you later on?" 
 
 Her face was suddenly flushed with joy. 
 
 * Oh, do ! " she begged. " Do ! " 
 
 He turned away with a smile. 
 
 "Very well," he said. "Don't shut up just yet and I 
 will try." 
 
 " I shall stay here until three o'clock," she declared, 
 "until four, even. You must come. Remember, you 
 must come. See." 
 
 She held out to him her key.
 
 LAVERICK AT THE OPERA 193 
 
 " I can knock at the door," he protested. " You would 
 hear me." 
 
 " But I might fall asleep," she answered. " I am afraid. 
 If you have the key, I am sure that you will come." 
 
 He put it in his waistcoat pocket with a laugh. 
 
 "Very well," he said, "if it is only for five minutes, I 
 will come."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A SUPPER PARTY AT LUIGl's 
 
 LAVERICK walked into Luigi's Restaurant at about a 
 quarter to twelve, and found the place crowded with 
 many little supper-parties on their way to a fancy dress 
 ball. The demand for tables was far in excess of the sup- 
 ply, but he had scarcely shown himself before the head 
 maitre d'hotel came hurrying up. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Idiale is waiting for you, sir," he an- 
 nounced at once. "Will you be so good as to come this 
 way?" 
 
 Laverick followed him. She was sitting at the same 
 table as last night, but she was alone, and it was laid, he 
 noticed with surprise, only for two. 
 
 "You have treated me," she said, as she held out her 
 fingers, " to a new sensation. I have waited for you alone 
 here for a quarter of an hour I ! Such a thing has 
 never happened to me before." 
 
 "You do me too much honor," Laverick declared, seat- 
 ing himself and taking up the carte. 
 
 "Then, too," she continued, "I sup alone with you. 
 That is what I seldom do with any man. Not that I care 
 for the appearance," she added, with a contemptuous 
 wave of the hand. "Nothing troubles me less. It is 
 simply that one man alone wearies me. Almost always 
 he will make love, and that I do not like. You, Mr. 
 Laverick, I am not afraid of. I do not think that you will 
 make love to me."
 
 A SUPPER PARTY AT LUIGI'S 195 
 
 "Any intentions I may have had," Laverick remarked, 
 with a sigh, "I forthwith banish. You ask a hard task 
 of your cavaliers, though, Mademoiselle." 
 
 She smiled and looked at him from under her eyelids. 
 
 "Not of you, I fancy, Mr. Laverick," she said. "I do 
 not think that you are one of those who make love to 
 every woman because she is good-looking or famous." 
 
 "To tell you the truth," Laverick admitted, "I find it 
 hard to make love to any one. I often feel the most pro- 
 found admiration for individual members of your sex, 
 but to express one's self is difficult sometimes it is even 
 embarrassing. For supper?" 
 
 "It is ordered," she declared. "You are my guest." 
 
 " Impossible !" Laverick asserted firmly. " I have been 
 your guest at the Opera. You at least owe me the honor 
 of being mine for supper." 
 
 She frowned a little. She was obviously unused to 
 being contradicted 
 
 "I sup with you, then, another night," she insisted. 
 " No," she continued, " if you are going to look like that, 
 I take it back. I sup with you to-night. This is an ill 
 omen for our future acquaintance. I have given in to 
 you already I, who give in to no man. Give me some 
 champagne, please." 
 
 Laverick took the bottle from the ice-pail by his side, 
 but the sommelier darted forward and served them. 
 
 " I drink to our better understanding of one another, 
 Mr. Laverick," she said, raising her glass, "and, if you 
 would like a double toast, I drink also to the early grati- 
 fication of the curiosity which is consuming you." 
 
 "The curiosity?" 
 
 "Yes! You are wondering all the time why it is that 
 I chose last night to send and have you presented to me,
 
 ig6 HAVOC 
 
 why I came to your office in the city to-day with the ex- 
 cuse of investing money with you, why I invited you to 
 the Opera to-night, why I commanded you to supper 
 here and am supping with you alone. Now confess the 
 truth; you are full of curiosity, is it not so?" 
 
 "Frankly, I am." 
 
 She smiled good-humoredly. 
 
 "I knew it quite well. You are not conceited. You 
 do not believe, as so many men would, that I have fallen 
 in love with you. You think that there must be some 
 object, and you ask yourself all, the time, 'What is it?' 
 In your heart, Mr. Laverick, I wonder whether you have 
 any idea." 
 
 Her voice had fallen almost to a whisper. She looked 
 at him with a suggestion of stealthiness from under her 
 eyelids, a look which only needed the slightest softening 
 of her face to have made it something almost irresistible. 
 
 "I can assure you," Laverick said firmly, "that I have 
 no idea." 
 
 "Do you remember almost my first question to you?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "It was about the murder. You seemed interested in 
 the fact that my office was within a few yards of the pas- 
 sage where it occurred." 
 
 " Quite right," she admitted. " I see that your memory 
 is very good. There, then, Mr. Laverick, you have the 
 secret of my desire to meet you." 
 
 Laverick drank his wine slowly. The woman knew ! 
 Impossible ! Her eyes were watching his face, but he 
 held himself bravely. What could she know ? How could 
 she guess? 
 
 "Frankly," he said, "I do not understand. Your 
 interest in me arises from the fact that my offices are near
 
 197 
 
 the scene of that murder. Well, to begin with, what 
 concern have you in that?" 
 
 " The murdered man," she declared thoughtfully, " was 
 an acquaintance of mine." 
 
 "An acquaintance of yours!" Laverick exclaimed. 
 "Why, he has not been identified. No one knows who 
 he was." 
 
 She raised her eyebrows very slightly. 
 
 ''Mr. Laverick," she murmured, "the newspapers do 
 not tell you everything. I repeat that the murdered man 
 was an acquaintance of mine. Only three days ago I 
 traveled part of the way from Vienna with him." 
 
 Laverick was intensely interested. 
 
 "You could, perhaps, throw some light, then, upon 
 his death?" 
 
 " Perhaps I could," she answered. " I can tell you one 
 thing, at any rate, Mr. Laverick, if it is news to you. At 
 the time when he was murdered, he was carrying a very 
 large sum of money with him. This is a fact which has 
 not been spoken of in the Press." 
 
 Once again Laverick was thankful for those nerves of 
 his. He sat quite still. His face exhibited nothing more 
 than the blank amazement which he certainly felt. 
 
 "This is marvelous," he said. "Have you told the 
 police ? " 
 
 " I have not," she answered. " I wish, if I can, to avoid 
 telling the police." 
 
 "But the money? To whom did it belong?" 
 
 "Not to the murdered man." 
 
 "To any one whom you know of?" he inquired. 
 
 "I wonder," she said, after a moment of hesitation, 
 "whether I am telling you too much." 
 
 "You are telling me a good deal," he admitted frankly.
 
 ig8 HAVOC 
 
 "I wonder how far," she asked, "you will be inclined 
 to reciprocate?" 
 
 "I reciprocate!" he exclaimed. "But what can I do? 
 What do I know of these things?" 
 
 She stretched out her hand lazily, and drew towards 
 her a wonderful gold purse set with emeralds. Carefully 
 opening it, she drew from the interior a small flat pocket- 
 book, also of gold, with a great uncut emerald set into its 
 centre. This, too, she opened, and drew out several 
 sheets of foreign note-paper pinned together at the top. 
 These she glanced through until she came to the third 
 or fourth. Then she bent it down and passed it across 
 the table to Laverick. 
 
 " You may read that," she sa ; d. " It is part of a report 
 which I have had in my possession since Wednesday 
 morning." 
 
 Laverick drew the sheet towards him and read, in thin, 
 angular characters, very distinct and plain: 
 
 Some ten minutes after the assault, a policeman passed down 
 the street but did not glance toward the passage. The next 
 person to appear was a gentleman who left some offices on the 
 same side as the passage, and walked down evidently on his 
 homeward way. He glanced up the passage and saw the body 
 lying there. He disappeared for a moment and struck a 
 match. A minute afterwards he emerged from the passage, 
 looked up and down the street, and finding it empty returned 
 to the office from which he had issued, let himself in with his 
 latchkey, and closed the door behind him. He was there for 
 about ten minutes. When he reappeared, he walked quickly 
 down the street and for obvious reasons I was unable to follow 
 him. 
 
 The address of the offices which he left and re-entered was 
 Messrs. Laverick & Morrison, Stockbrokers.
 
 A SUPPER PARTY AT LUIGI'S 199 
 
 "That interests you, Mr. Laverick?" she asked 
 softly. 
 
 He handed it back to her. 
 
 " It interests me very much," he answered. " Who was 
 this unseen person who wrote from the clouds?" 
 
 " I may not tell you all my secrets, Mr. Laverick," she 
 declared. "What have you done with that twenty thou- 
 sand pounds?" 
 
 Laverick helped himself to champagne. He listened 
 for a moment to the music, and looked into the wonderful 
 eyes which shone from that beautiful face a few feet away. 
 Her lips were slightly parted, her forehead wrinkled. 
 There was nothing of the accuser in her countenance; a 
 gentle irony was its most poignant expression. 
 
 "Is this a fairy tale, Mademoiselle Idiale?" 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " It might seem so," she answered. " Sometimes I 
 think that all the time we live two lives, the life of 
 which the world sees the outside, and the life inside of 
 which no one save ourselves knows anything at all. Look, 
 for instance, at all these people these chorus girls and 
 young men about town the older ones, too all hungry 
 for pleasure, all drinking at the cup of life as though they 
 had indeed but to-day and to-morrow in which to live 
 and enjoy. Have they no shadows, too, no secrets ? They 
 seem so harmless, yet if the great white truth shone down, 
 might one not find a murderer there, a dying man who 
 knew his terrible secret, yonder a Croesus on the verge 
 of bankruptcy, a strong man playing with dishonor ? But 
 those are the things of the other world which we do not 
 
 O 
 
 see. The men look at us to-night and they envy you be- 
 cause you are with me. The women envy me more because 
 I have emeralds upon my neck and shoulders for which
 
 200 HAVOC 
 
 they would give their souls, and a fame throughout Europe 
 which would turn their foolish heads in a very few minutes. 
 But they do not know. There are the shadows across my 
 path, and I think that there are the shadows across yours. 
 What do you say, Mr. Laverick?" 
 
 He looked at her, curiously moved. Now at last he 
 began to believe that it was true what they said of her, 
 that she was indeed a marvelous woman. She had a 
 fame which would have contented nine hundred and 
 ninety-nine women out of a thousand. She had beauty, 
 and, more wonderful still, the grace, the fascination 
 which are irresistible. She had but to lift a finger and 
 there were few who would not kneel to do her bid- 
 ding. And yet, behind it all there were other things in 
 her life. Had she sought them, or had they come to 
 her? 
 
 "You are one of those wise people, Mr. Laverick," 
 she said, "who realize the danger of words. You believe 
 in silence. Well, silence is often good. You do not choose 
 to admit anything." 
 
 " What is there for me to admit ? Do you want to know 
 whether I am the man who left those offices, who disap- 
 peared into the passage, who reappeared again - 
 
 "With a pocket-book containing twenty thousand 
 pounds," she murmured across the flowers. 
 
 "At least tell me this?" he demanded. "Was the 
 money yours?" 
 
 "I am not like you," she replied. "I have talked a 
 great deal and I have reached the limit of the things 
 which I may tell you." 
 
 "But where are we?" he asked. "Are you seri- 
 ously accusing me of having robbed this murdered 
 man?"
 
 A SUPPER PARTY AT LUIGI'S 201 
 
 "Be thankful," she declared, "that I am not accusing 
 you of having murdered him." 
 
 "But seriously," he insisted, "am I on my defence 
 have I to account for my movements that night as against 
 the written word of your mysterious informant? Is it 
 you who are charging me with being a thief ? Is it to you 
 I am to account for my actions, to defend myself or to 
 plead guilty?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "No," she answered. "I have said almost my last 
 word to you upon this subject. All that I have to ask of 
 you is this. If that pocket-book is in your possession, 
 empty it first of its contents, then go over it carefully with 
 your fingers and see if there is not a secret pocket. If 
 you discover that, I think that you will find in it a sealed 
 document. If you find that document, you must bring it 
 to me." 
 
 The lights went down. The voice of the waiter mur- 
 mured something in his ears. 
 
 "It is after hours," Mademoiselle Idiale said, "but 
 Luigi does not wish to disturb us. Still, perhaps we had 
 better go." 
 
 They passed down the room. To Laverick it was all 
 like a dream the laughing crowd, the flushed men and 
 bright-eyed women, the lowered lights, the air of vol- 
 uptuousness which somehow seemed to have enfolded the 
 place. In the hall her maid came up. A small motor- 
 brougham, with two servants on the box, was standing 
 at the doorway. Mademoiselle turned suddenly and gave 
 him her hand. 
 
 "Our supper-party, I think, Mr. Laverick," she said, 
 " has been quite a success. We shall before long, I hope, 
 meet again."
 
 202 HAVOC 
 
 He handed her into the carriage. Her maid walked 
 with them. The footman stood erect by his side. There 
 were no further words to be spoken. A little crowd in the 
 doorway envied him as he stood bareheaded upon the 
 pavement.
 
 - 

 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 JIM SHEPHERD'S SCARE 
 
 IT was, in its way, a pathetic sight upon which Laverick 
 gazed when he stole into that shabby little sitting-room. 
 Zoe had fallen asleep in a small, uncomfortable easy-chair 
 with its back to the window. Her supper of bread and 
 milk was half finished, her hat lay upon the table. A 
 book was upon her lap as though she had started to read 
 only to find it slip through her fingers. He stood with 
 his elbow upon the mantelpiece, looking down at her. 
 Her eyelashes, long and silky, were more beautiful than 
 ever now that her eyes were closed. Her complexion, 
 pale though she was, seemed more the creamy pallor of 
 some southern race than the whiteness of ill-health. The 
 bodice of her dress was open a few inches at the neck, 
 showing the faint white smoothness of her flawless skin. 
 Not even her shabby shoes could conceal the perfect shape 
 of her feet and ankles. Once more he remembered his 
 first simile, his first thought of her. She seemed, indeed, 
 like some dainty statuette, uncouthly clad, who had strayed 
 from a world of her own upon rough days and found her- 
 self ill-equipped indeed for the struggle. His heart grew 
 hot with anger against Morrison as he stood and watched 
 her. Supposing she had been different ! It would have 
 been his fault, leaving her alone to battle her way through 
 the most difficult of all lives. Brute ! 
 
 He had muttered the word half aloud and she suddenly 
 opened her eyes. At first she seemed bewildered. Then 
 she smiled and sat up.
 
 204 HAVOC 
 
 "I have been asleep !" she exclaimed. 
 
 "A most unnecessary statement," he answered, smiling. 
 *' I have been standing looking at you for five minutes at 
 least." 
 
 " How fortunate that I gave you the key !" she declared. 
 "I don't suppose I should ever have heard you. Now 
 please stand there in the light and let me look at you." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I want to look at a man who has had supper with 
 Mademoiselle Idiale." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Am I supposed to be a wanderer out of Paradise, 
 then?" 
 
 She looked at him doubtfully. 
 
 "They tell strange stories about her," she said; "but 
 oh, she is so beautiful ! If I were a man, I should fall in 
 love with her if she even looked my way." 
 
 "Then I am glad," he answered, "that I am less im- 
 pressionable." 
 
 "And you are not in love with her?" she asked eagerly. 
 
 "Why should I be?" he laughed. "She is like a 
 wonderful picture, a marvelous statue, if you will. Every- 
 thing about her is faultless. But one looks at these 
 things calmly enough, you know. It is life which stirs 
 life." 
 
 "Do you think that there is no life in her veins, then?" 
 Zoe asked. 
 
 " If there is," he answered, " I do not think that I am 
 the man to stir it." 
 
 She drew a little sigh of content. 
 
 "You see," she said, "you are my first admirer, and I 
 have n't the least desire to let you go." 
 
 "Incredible!" he declared.
 
 JIM SHEPHERD'S SCARE 205 
 
 "But it is true," she answered earnestly. "You would 
 not have me talk to these boys who come and hang on at 
 the stage-door. The men to whom I have been introduced 
 by the other girls have been very few, and they have not 
 been very nice, and they have not cared for me and I have 
 not cared for them. I think," she said, disconsolately, 
 "I am too small. Ever} 7 one to-day seems to like big 
 women. Cora Sinclair, who is just behind me in the 
 chorus, gets bouquets every night, and simply chooses 
 with whom she should go out to supper." 
 
 Laverick looked grave. 
 
 "You are not envying her?" he asked. 
 
 "Not in the least, as long as I too am taken out some- 
 times." 
 
 Laverick smiled and sat on the arm of her chair. 
 
 "Miss Zoe," he said, "I have come because you told 
 me to, just to prove, you see, that I am not in the toils 
 of Mademoiselle Idiale. But do you know that it is half- 
 past one ? I must not stay here any longer." 
 
 She sighed once more. 
 
 "You are right," she admitted, "but it is so lonely. 
 I have never been here without May and her mother. I 
 have never slept alone in the house before the other night. 
 If I had known that they were going away, I should never 
 have dared to come here." 
 
 " It is too bad," he declared. " Could n't you get one 
 of the other girls to stay w r ith you ?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "There are one or two whom I would like to have," 
 she said, "but they are all living either at home or with 
 relatives. The others I am afraid about. They seem to 
 like to sit up so late and " 
 
 " You are quite right," he interrupted hastily, - " quite
 
 206 HAVOC 
 
 right. You are better alone. But you ought to have a 
 servant." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "On two pounds fifteen a week?" she asked. "You 
 must remember that I could not even live here, only I 
 have practically no rent to pay." 
 
 He fidgeted for a moment. 
 
 "Miss Zoe," he said, "I am perfectly serious when I 
 tell you that I have money which should go to your 
 brother. Why will you not let me alter your arrange- 
 ments just a little ? I cannot bear to think of you here 
 all alone." 
 
 "It is very kind of you," she answered doubtfully; 
 "but please, no. Somehow, I think that it would spoil 
 everything if I accepted that sort of help from you. If 
 you have any money of Arthur's, keep it for a time and I 
 think when you write him I do not want to seem grasp- 
 ing but I think if he has any to spare you might sug- 
 gest that he does give me just a little. I have never had 
 anything from him at all. Perhaps he does not quite 
 understand how hard it is for me." 
 
 "I will do that, of course," Laverick answered, "but I 
 wish you would let me at least pay over a little of what I 
 consider due to you. I will take the responsibility for it. 
 It will come from him and not from me." 
 
 She remained unconvinced. 
 
 "I would rather wait," she said. "If you really want 
 to give me something, I will let you out of my brother's 
 money, of course, I mean," she added. " I have n't any- 
 thing saved at all, or I would n't have that. But one day 
 you shall take me out and buy me a dress and hat. You 
 can tell Arthur directly you write to him. I don't mind 
 that, for sometimes I do feel ashamed I did the other
 
 JIM SHEPHERD'S SCARE 207 
 
 night to have you sit with me there, and to feel that I was 
 dressed so very differently from all of them." 
 
 He laughexl reassuringly. 
 
 "I .don't think men notice those things. To me you 
 seemed just as you should seem. I only know that I was 
 glad enough to be there with you." 
 
 "Were you?" rather wistfully. 
 
 " Of course I was. Now I am going, but before I go, 
 don't forget Monday afternoon. We'll have lunch and 
 then go to your brother's rooms." 
 
 She glanced at the clock. 
 
 "Is it really so late?" she asked. 
 
 "It is. Don't you notice how quiet it is outside?" 
 
 They stood hand in hand for a moment. A strange 
 silence seemed to have fallen upon the streets. Laverick 
 was suddenly conscious of something which he had never 
 felt when Mademoiselle Idiale had smiled upon him 
 a quickening of the pulses, a sense of gathering excitement 
 which almosi took his breath away. His eyes were fixed 
 upon hers, and he seemed to see the reflection of that same 
 wave of feeling in her own expressive face. Her lips 
 trembled, her eyes were deeper and softer than ever. 
 They seemed to be asking him a question, asking and 
 asking till every fibre of his body was concentrated 
 in the desperate effort with which he kept her at arm's 
 length. 
 
 "Is it so very late?" she whispered, coming just a 
 little closer, so that she was indeed almost within the 
 shelter of his arms. 
 
 He clutched her hands almost roughly and raised them 
 to his lips. 
 
 "Much too late for me to stay here, child," he said, and 
 his voice even to himself sounded hard and unnatural.
 
 208 HAVOC 
 
 " Run along to bed. To-morrow night to-morrow 
 night, then, I will fetch you. Good-bye!" 
 
 He let himself out. He did riot even look behind to the 
 spot where he had left her. He closed the front door and 
 walked with swift, almost savage footsteps down the quiet 
 street, across the Square, and into New Oxford Street. 
 Here he seemed to breathe more freely. He called a han- 
 som and drove to his rooms. 
 
 The hall-porter had left his post in the front hall, and 
 there was no one to inform Laverick that a visitor was 
 awaiting him. When he entered his sitting-room, however, 
 he gave a little start of surprise. Mr. James Shepherd 
 was reclining in his easy-chair with his hands upon his 
 knees Mr. James Shepherd with his face more pasty 
 even than usual, his eyes a trifle greener, his whole de- 
 meanor one of unconcealed and unaffected terror. 
 
 "Hullo!" Laverick exclaimed. "What the dickens 
 what do you want here, Shepherd?" 
 
 "Upon my word, sir, I'm not sure that I know," the 
 man replied, "but I'm scared. I've brought you back 
 the certificates of them shares. I want you to keep them 
 for me. I'm terrified lest they come and search my room. 
 I am, I tell you fair. I'm terrified to order a pint of beer 
 for myself. They're watching me all the time." 
 
 "Who are?" Laverick demanded. 
 
 "Lord knows who," Shepherd answered, "but there's 
 two of them at it. I told you about them as asked ques- 
 tions, and I thought there we'd done and finished with it. 
 Not a bit of it ! There was another one there this after- 
 noon, said he was a journalist, making sketches of the 
 passage and asking me no end of questions. He was n't 
 no journalist, I'll swear to that. I asked him about his 
 paper. 'Half-a-dozen,' he declared. 'They're all glad
 
 JIM SHEPHERD'S SCARE 209 
 
 to have what I send them.' Journalist! Lord knows 
 who the other chap was and what he was asking ques- 
 tions for, but this one was a 'tec, straight. Joe Fonman, 
 he was in to-day looking after my place, for L.'d given a 
 month's notice, and he says to me, 'You see that big 
 chap?' meaning him as had been asking me the ques- 
 tions and I says 'Yes!' and he says, 'That's a 'tec. 
 I've seed him in a police court, giving evidence/ I went 
 all of a shiver so that you could have knocked me down." 
 
 "Come, come!" said Laverick. "There's no need 
 for you to be feeling like this about it. All that you've 
 done is not to have remembered those two customers who 
 were in your restaurant late one night. There's nothing 
 criminal in that." 
 
 "There's something criminal in having two hundred 
 and fifty pounds' worth of shares in one 's pocket some- 
 thing suspicious, anyway," Shepherd declared, plumping 
 them down on the table. " I ain't giving you these back, 
 mind, but you must keep 'em for me. I wish I'd never 
 given notice. I think I'll ask the boss to keep me on." 
 
 "Why do you suppose that this man is particularly 
 interested in you?" Laverick inquired. 
 
 "Ain't I told you?" Shepherd exclaimed, sitting up. 
 "Why, he's been to my place down in 'Ammersmith, 
 asking questions about me. My landlady swears he did n't 
 go into my room, but who can tell whether he did or not ? 
 Those sort of chaps can get in anywhere. Then I went 
 out for a bit of an airing after the one o'clock rush was 
 over to-day, and I'm danged if he was n't at my 'eels. I 
 seed him coming round by Liverpool Street just as I went 
 in a bar to get a drop of something." 
 
 Laverick frowned. 
 
 " If there is anything in this story, Shepherd," he said,
 
 2io HAVOC 
 
 " if you are really being followed, what a thundering fool 
 you were to come here ! All the world knows that Arthur 
 Morrison was my partner." 
 
 " I could n't help it, sir," the man declared. " I could n't, 
 indeed. I was so scared, I felt I must speak about it to 
 some one. And then there were these shares. There 
 was nowhere I could keep 'em safe." 
 
 "Look here," Laverick went on, "you're alarming 
 yourself about nothing. In any case, there is only one 
 thing for you to do. Pull yourself together and put a 
 bold face upon it. I'll keep these certificates for you, and 
 when you want some money you can come to me for it. 
 Go back to your place, and if your master is willing to 
 keep you on perhaps it would be a good thing to stay 
 there for another month or so. But don't let any one see 
 that you're frightened. Remember, there's nothing that 
 you can get into trouble for. No one's obliged to answer 
 such questions as you've been asked, except in a court 
 and under oath. Stick to your story, and if you take my 
 advice," Laverick added, glancing at his visitor's shaking 
 fingers, "you w r ill keep away from the drink." 
 
 "It's little enough I've had, sir," Shepherd assured 
 him. "A drop now and then just to keep up one's spirits 
 nothing that amounts to anything." 
 
 "Make it as little as possible," Laverick said. "Re- 
 member, I'm back of you, I'll see that you get into no 
 trouble. And don't come here again. Come to my office, 
 if you like there's nothing in that but don't come 
 here, you understand?" 
 
 Shepherd took up his hat. 
 
 "I understand, sir. I'm sorry to have troubled you, 
 but the sight of that man following me about fairly gave 
 me the shivers."
 
 JIM SHEPHERD'S SCARE 211 
 
 "Come into the office as often as you like, in reason," 
 Laverick said, showing him out, "but not here again. 
 Keep your eyes open, and let me know if you think you've 
 been followed here." 
 
 "There's no more news in the papers, sir? Nothing 
 turned up?" 
 
 "Nothing," replied Laverick. "If the police have 
 found out anything at all, they will keep it until after the 
 inquest." 
 
 "And you've heard nothing, sir," Shepherd asked, 
 speaking in a hoarse whisper, "of Mr. Morrison?" 
 
 "Nothing," Laverick answered. "Mr. Morrison is 
 abroad." 
 
 The man wiped his forehead with his hand. 
 
 "Of course!" he muttered. "A good job, too, for 
 him!"
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE DOCUMENT DISCOVERED 
 
 ON the following morning, Laverick surprised his office 
 cleaner and one errand-boy by appearing at about a 
 quarter to nine. He found a woman busy brushing out 
 his room and a man cleaning the windows. They stared 
 at him in amazement. His arrival at such an hour was 
 absolutely unprecedented. 
 
 "You can leave the office just as it is, if you please," 
 he told them. " I have a few things to attend to at once." 
 
 He was accordingly left alone. He had reckoned upon 
 this as being the one period during the day when he could 
 rely upon not being disturbed. Nevertheless, he locked 
 the door so as to be secure against any possible intruder. 
 Then he went to his safe, unlocked it, and drew from its 
 secret drawer the worn brown-leather pocket-book. 
 
 First of all he took out the notes and laid them upon 
 the table. Then he felt the pocket-book all over and his 
 heart gave a little leap. It was true what Mademoiselle 
 Idiale had told him. On one side there was distinctly 
 a rustling as of paper. He opened the case quite flat and 
 passed his fingers carefully over the lining. Very soon he 
 found the opening it was simply a matter of drawing 
 down the stiff silk lining from underneath the overlapping 
 edge. Thrusting in his fingers, he drew out a long foreign 
 envelope, securely sealed. Scarcely stopping to glance 
 at it, he rearranged the pocket-book, replaced the notes, 
 and locked it up again. Then he unbolted his door and
 
 THE DOCUMENT DISCOVERED 213 
 
 sat down at his desk, with the document which he had 
 discovered, on the pad in front of him. 
 
 There was not much to be made of it. There was no 
 address, but the black seal at the end bore the impression 
 of a foreign coat of arms, and a motto which to him w r as 
 indecipherable. He held it up to the light, but the outside 
 sheet had not been written on, and he gained no idea as 
 to its contents. He leaned back in his chair for a moment, 
 and looked at it. So this was the document which would 
 probably reveal the secret of the murder in Crooked 
 Friars' Alley ! This was the document which Made- 
 moiselle Idiale considered of so much more importance 
 than the fortune represented by that packet of bank-notes ! 
 What did it all mean? Was this man, who had either 
 expiated a crime or been the victim of a terrible vengeance, 
 was he a politician, a dealer in trade secrets, a member 
 of a secret society, an informer? Or was he one of the 
 underground criminals of the world, one of those who 
 crawl beneath the surface of known things a creature 
 of the dark places? Perhaps during those few minutes, 
 when his brain was cool and active, with the great city 
 awakening all around him, Laverick realized more com- 
 pletely than ever before exactly how he stood. Without 
 doubt he was walking on the brink of a precipice. Four 
 days ago there had been nothing for him but ruin. The 
 means of salvation had suddenly presented themselves 
 in this startling and dramatic manner, and without hesita- 
 tion he had embraced them. What did it all amount to? 
 How far was he guilty, and of what? Was he a thief? 
 The ' law would probably call him so. The law might 
 have even more to say. It would say that by keeping his 
 mouth closed as to his adventure on that night he had 
 ranged himself on the side of the criminals, he was
 
 2i 4 HAVOC 
 
 guilty not only of technical theft, but of a criminal knowl- 
 edge of this terrible crime. Events had followed upon 
 one another so rapidly during these last few days that he 
 had little enough time for reflection, little time to realize ex- 
 actly how he stood. The long-expected boom in " Unions," 
 the coming of Zoe, the strange advances made to him by 
 Mademoiselle Idiale, her incomprehensible connection 
 with this tragedy across which he had stumbled, and her 
 apparent knowledge of his share in it, these things were 
 sufficient, indeed, to give him food for thought. Laverick 
 was not by nature a pessimist. Other things being equal, 
 he would have made, without doubt, a magnificent soldier, 
 for he had courage of a rare and high order. It never 
 occurred to him to sit and brood upon his own danger. 
 He rather welcomed the opportunity of occupying his 
 mind with other thoughts. Yet in those few minutes, 
 while he waited for the business of the day to commence, 
 he looked his exact position in the face and he realized 
 more thoroughly how grave it really was. How was he 
 to find a way out to set himself right with the law ? 
 What could he do with those notes? They were there 
 untouched. He had only made use of them in an indirect 
 way. They were there intact, as he had picked them up 
 upon that fateful night. Was there any possible chance 
 by means of which he might discover the owner and 
 restore them in such a way that his name might never be 
 mentioned? His eyes repeatedly sought that envelope 
 which lay before him. Inside it must lie the secret of the 
 whole tragedy. Should he risk everything and break the 
 seal, or should he risk perhaps as much and tell the whole 
 truth to Mademoiselle Idiale ? It was a strange dilemma 
 for a man to find himself in. 
 
 Then, as he sat there, the business of the day commenced.
 
 THE DOCUMENT DISCOVERED 215 
 
 A pile of letters was brought in, the telephones in the outer 
 office began to ring. He thrust the sealed envelope into 
 the breast-pocket of his coat and buttoned it up. There, 
 for the present, it must remain. He owed it to himself to 
 devote every energy he possessed to make the most of this 
 great tide of business. With set face he closed the doors 
 upon the unreal world, and took hold of the levers which 
 were to guide his passage through the one in which he was 
 an actual figure. 
 
 Her visit was not altogether unexpected, and yet, when 
 they told him that Mademoiselle Idiale was outside, he 
 hesitated. 
 
 "It is the lady who was here the other day," his head- 
 clerk reminded him. "We made a remarkably good 
 choice of stocks for her. They must be showing nearly 
 sixteen hundred pounds profit. Perhaps she wants to 
 realize." 
 
 "In any case, you had better show her in," said 
 Laverick. 
 
 She came, bringing with her, notwithstanding her black 
 clothes and heavy veil, the atmosphere of a strange world 
 into his somewhat severely furnished office. Her skirts 
 swept his carpet with a musical swirl. She carried with 
 her a faint, indefinable perfume of violets, a perfume 
 altogether peculiar, dedicated to her by a famous chemist 
 in the Rue Royale, and supplied to no other person upon 
 earth. Who else was there, indeed, who could have 
 walked those few yards as she walked ? 
 
 He rose to his feet and pointed to a chair. 
 
 "You have come to ask about your shares?" he asked 
 politely. "So far, we have nothing but good news for 
 you."
 
 216 HAVOC 
 
 She recognized that he spoke to her in the presence of 
 his clerk, and she waved her hand. 
 
 "Women who will come themselves to look after their 
 poor investments are a nuisance, I suppose," she said. 
 " But indeed I will not keep you long. A few minutes are 
 all that I shall ask of you. I am beginning to find city 
 affairs so interesting." 
 
 They were alone by now and Louise raised her veil, 
 raised it so high that he could see her eyes. She leaned 
 back in her chair, supporting her chin with the long, 
 exquisite fingers of her right hand. She looked at him 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "You have examined the pocket-book?" she asked. 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "And the document was there?" 
 
 "The document was there," he admitted. "Perhaps 
 you can tell me how it would be addressed?" 
 
 Looking at her closely, it came to him that her indif- 
 ference was assumed. She was shivering slightly, as 
 though with cold. 
 
 "I imagine that there would be no address," she 
 said. 
 
 "You are right. That document is in my pocket." 
 
 "What are you going to do with it?" she asked. 
 
 "What do you advise me to do with it?" 
 
 "Give it to me." 
 
 " Have you any claim ? " 
 
 She leaned a little nearer to him. 
 
 "At least I have more claim to it," she whispered, 
 " than you to that twenty thousand pounds." 
 
 "I do not claim them," he replied. "They are in my 
 safe at this moment, untouched. They are there ready 
 to be returned to their proper owner."
 
 THE DOCUMENT DISCOVERED 217 
 
 "Why do you not find him?" with a note of incre- 
 dulity in her tone. 
 
 "How am I to do that?" Laverick demanded. 
 
 "We waste words," she continued coldly. "I think 
 that if I leave you with the contents of your safe, it will be 
 wise for you to hand me that document." 
 
 "I am inclined to do so," Laverick admitted. "The 
 very fact that you knew of its existence would seem to 
 give you a sort of claim to it. But, Mademoiselle Idiale, 
 will you answer me a few questions ? " 
 
 "I think," she said, "that it would be better if you 
 asked me none." 
 
 "But listen," he begged. "You are the only person 
 with whom I have come into touch who seems to know 
 anything about this affair. I should rather like to tell you 
 exactly how I stumbled in upon it. Why can we not 
 exchange confidence for confidence? I want neither the 
 twenty thousand pounds nor the document. I want, to 
 be frank with you, nothing but to escape from the position 
 I am now in of being half a thief and half a criminal. 
 Show me some claim to that document and you shall 
 have it. Tell me to whom that money belongs, and it 
 shall be restored." 
 
 "You are incomprehensible," she declared. "Are you, 
 by any chance, playing a part with me? Do you think 
 that it is worth while?" 
 
 "Mademoiselle Idiale," Laverick protested earnestly, 
 " nothing in the world is further from my thoughts. There 
 is very little of the conspirator about me. I am a plain 
 man of business who stumbled in upon this affair at a 
 critical moment and dared to make temporary use of his 
 discovery. You can put it, if you like, that I am afraid. 
 I want to get out. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.
 
 218 HAVOC 
 
 if such a thing were possible, than to send this pocket- 
 book and its contents anonymously to Scotland Yard, 
 and never hear about them again." 
 
 She listened to him with unchanged face. Yet for 
 some moments after he had finished speaking she was 
 thoughtful. 
 
 "You may be speaking the truth," she said. "If so, I 
 have been deceived. You are not quite the sort of man I 
 did believe you were. What you tell me is amazing, but 
 it may be true." 
 
 "It is the truth," Laverick repeated calmly. 
 
 " Listen," she said, after a brief pause. " You were at 
 school, were you not, with Mr. David Bellamy? You 
 know well who he is?" 
 
 "Perfectly well," Laverick admitted. 
 
 "You would consider him a person to be trusted?" 
 
 "Absolutely." 
 
 "Very well, then," she declared. "You shall come to 
 my flat at five o'clock this afternoon and bring that docu- 
 ment. If it is possible, David Bellamy shall be there him- 
 self. We will try then and prove to you that you do no 
 harm in parting with that document to us." 
 
 "I will come," Laverick promised, "at five o'clock; 
 but you must tell me where." 
 
 "You will put it down, please," she said. "There must 
 not be any mistake. You must come, and you must come 
 to-day. I am staying at number 15, Dover Street. I will 
 leave orders that you are shown in at once." 
 
 She rose to her feet and he walked to the door with her. 
 On the way she hesitated. 
 
 "Take care of yourself to-day, Mr. Laverick," she 
 begged. "There are others beside myself who are inter- 
 ested in that packet you carry with you. You represent
 
 THE DOCUMENT DISCOVERED 219 
 
 to them tilings beside which life and death are trivial 
 happenings." 
 
 Laverick laughed shortly. He was a matter-of-fact 
 man, and there seemed something a little absurd in such 
 a warning. 
 
 "I do not think," he declared, "that you need have 
 any fear. London is, as you doubtless find it, a dull old 
 city, but it is a remarkably safe one to live in." 
 
 " Nevertheless, Mr. Laverick," she repeated earnestly, 
 "be on your guard to-day, for all our sakes." 
 
 He bowed and changed the subject. 
 
 "Your investments," he remarked, "you w r ill be con- 
 tent, perhaps, to leave as they are. It is, no doubt, of 
 some interest to you to know that they are showing already 
 a profit of considerably over a thousand pounds." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " It was an excuse that investment," she declared. 
 " Yet money is always good. Keep it for me, Mr. Laverick, 
 and do what you will. I will trust your judgment. Buy 
 or sell as you please. You will let nothing prevent your 
 coming this afternoon?" 
 
 "Nothing," he promised her. 
 
 From the window of her beautifully appointed little 
 electric brougham she held out her hand in farewell. 
 
 "You think me foolish, I know, that I persist," she 
 said, "but I do beg that you will remember what I say. 
 Do not be alone to-day more than you can help. Sus- 
 pect every one who comes near to you. There may be a 
 trap before your feet at any moment. Be wary always 
 and do not forget at five o'clock I expect you." 
 
 Laverick smiled as he bowed his adieux. 
 
 "It is a promise, Mademoiselle," he assured her.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 PENETRATING A MYSTERY 
 
 ABOUT an hour after Mademoiselle Idiale's departure a 
 note marked "Urgent" was brought in and handed to 
 Laverick. He tore it open. It was dated from the ad- 
 dress of a firm of stockbrokers, with two of the partners 
 of which he was on friendly terms. It ran thus : 
 
 Mr DEAR LAVEBICK, I want a chat with you, if you can 
 spare five minutes at lunch time. Come to Lyons' a little earlier 
 than usual, if you don't mind, say at a quarter to one. 
 
 J. HENSHAW. 
 
 Laverick read the typewritten note carelessly enough 
 at first. He had even laid it down and glanced at the clock, 
 with the intention of starting out, when a thought struck 
 him. He took it up and read it through again. Then he 
 turned to the telephone. 
 
 " Put me on to the office of Henshaw & Allen. I want 
 to speak to Mr. Henshaw particularly." 
 
 Two minutes passed. Laverick, meanwhile, had been 
 washing his hands ready to go out. Then the telephone 
 bell rang. He took up the receiver. 
 
 " Hullo ! Is that Henshaw ? " 
 
 "I'm Henshaw," was the answer. "That's Laverick, 
 is n't it? How are you, old fellow?" 
 
 "I'm all right," Laverick replied. "What is it that 
 you want to see me about?" 
 
 "Nothing particular that I know of. Who told you 
 that I wanted to?"
 
 PENETRATING A MYSTERY 221 
 
 Laverick, who had been standing with the instrument 
 in his hand, sat down in his chair. 
 
 "Look here," he said, "didn't you send me a note a 
 few minutes ago, asking me to come out to lunch at a 
 quarter to one and meet you at Lyons'?" 
 
 Henshaw's laugh was sufficient response. 
 
 "Delighted to lunch with you there or anywhere, old 
 chap, you know that," was the answer, " but some 
 one 's been putting up a practical joke on you." 
 
 "You did not send me a note round this morning, 
 then?" Laverick insisted. 
 
 "I'll swear I didn't," came the reply. "Do you 
 seriously mean that you've had one purporting to come 
 from me?" 
 
 Laverick pulled himself together. 
 
 "Well, the signature 's such a scrawl," he said, "that 
 no one could tell what the name really was. I guessed at 
 you but I seem to have guessed wrong. Good-bye !" 
 
 He set down the receiver and rang off to escape further 
 questioning. Now indeed the plot was commencing to 
 thicken. This was a deliberate effort on the part of some 
 one to secure his absence from his offices at a quarter 
 to one. 
 
 With the document in his pocket and the safe securely 
 locked, Laverick felt at ease as to the result of any 
 attempted burglary of his premises. At the same time 
 his curiosity was excited. Here, perhaps, was a chance 
 of finding some clue to this impenetrable mystery. 
 
 There were three clerks in the outer office. He put on 
 his hat and despatched two of them on errands in differ- 
 ent directions. The last he was obliged to take into his 
 confidence. 
 
 "Halsey," he said.. "I am going out to lunch. At least,
 
 222 HAVOC 
 
 I wish it to be thought that I am going out to lunch. As 
 a matter of fact, I shall return in about ten minutes by 
 the back way. I do not wish you, however, to know this. 
 I want you to have it in your mind that I have gone to 
 lunch and shall not be back until a quarter past two. If 
 there are visitors for me inquirers of any sort act 
 exactly as you would have done if you really believed that 
 I was not in the building." 
 
 Halsey appeared a good deal mystified. Laverick took 
 him even further into his confidence. 
 
 "To tell you the truth, Halsey," he said, "I have just 
 received a bogus letter from Mr. Henshaw, asking me to 
 lunch with him. Some one was evidently anxious to get 
 me out of my office for an hour or so. I want to find out 
 for myself what this means, if possible. You understand ? " 
 
 "I think so, sir," the man replied doubtfully. "I am 
 not to be aware that you have returned, then?" 
 
 "Certainly not," Laverick answered. "Please be 
 quite clear about that. If you hear any commotion in 
 the office, you can come in, but do not send for the police 
 unless I tell you to. I wish to look into this affair for 
 myself." 
 
 Halsey, who had started life as a lawyer's clerk, and 
 was distinctly formal in his ideas, was a little shocked. 
 
 "Would it not be better, sir," he suggested, "for me to 
 communicate with the police in the first case? If this 
 should really turn out to be an attempt at burglary, it 
 would surely be best to leave the matter to them." 
 
 Laverick frowned. 
 
 "For certain reasons, Halsey, which I do not think it 
 necessary to tell you, I have a strong desire to investi- 
 gate this matter personally. Please do exactly as I 
 say."
 
 PENETRATING A MYSTERY 223 
 
 He left the office and strolled up the street in the direc- 
 tion of the restaurant which he chiefly frequented. He 
 reached it in a moment or two, but left it at once by 
 another entrance. Within ten minutes he was back at 
 his office. 
 
 "Has any one been, Halsey?" 
 
 "No one, sir," the clerk answered. 
 
 "You will be so good," Laverick continued, "as to 
 forget that I have returned." 
 
 He passed on quickly into his own room and made his 
 way into the small closet where he kept his coat and 
 washed his hands. He had scarcely been there a minute 
 when he heard voices in the outside hall. The door of 
 his office was opened. 
 
 "Mr. Laverick said nothing about an appointment at 
 this hour," he heard Halsey protest in a somewhat depre- 
 cating tone. 
 
 "He had, perhaps, forgotten," was the answer, in a 
 totally unfamiliar voice. "At any rate, I am not in a 
 great hurry. The matter is of some importance, however, 
 and I will wait for Mr. Laverick." 
 
 The visitor was shown in. Laverick investigated his 
 appearance through a crack in the door. He was a man 
 of medium height, well-dressed, clean-shaven, and wore 
 gold-rimmed spectacles. He made himself comfortable 
 in Laverick's easy-chair, and accepted the paper which 
 Halsey offered him. 
 
 " I shall be quite glad of a rest," he remarked genially. 
 "I have been running about all the morning." 
 
 "Mr. Laverick is never very long out for lunch, sir, 
 Halsey said. " I daresay he will not keep you more than 
 a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes." 
 
 The clerk withdrew and closed the door. The man in
 
 224 HAVOC 
 
 the chair waited for a moment. Then he laid down his 
 newspaper and looked cautiously around the room. Sat- 
 isfied apparently that he was alone, he rose to his feet and 
 walked swiftly to Laverick's writing-table. With fingers 
 which seemed gifted with a lightning-like capacity for 
 movement, he swung open the drawers, one by one, and 
 turned over the papers. His eyes were everywhere. Every 
 document seemed to be scanned and as rapidly discarded. 
 At last he found something which interested him. He 
 held it up and paused in his search. Laverick heard a 
 little breath come through his teeth, and with a thrill he 
 recognized the paper as one which he had torn from a 
 memorandum tablet and upon which he had written 
 down the address which Mademoiselle Idiale had given 
 him. The man with the gold-rimmed glasses replaced 
 the paper where he had found it. Evidently he had 
 done with the writing-table. He moved swiftly over to 
 the safe and stood there listening for a few seconds. Then 
 from his pocket he drew a bunch of keys. To Laverick's 
 surprise, at the stranger's first effort the great door of the 
 safe swung open. He saw the man lean forward, saw his 
 hand reappear almost directly with the pocket-book 
 clenched in his fingers. Then he stood once more quite 
 still, listening. Satisfied that no one was disturbed, he 
 closed the door of the safe softly and moved once more 
 to the writing-table. With marvelous swiftness the notes 
 were laid upon the table, the pocket-book was turned 
 upside down, the secret place disclosed the secret place 
 which was empty. It seemed to Laverick that from his 
 hiding-place he could hear the little oath of disappoint- 
 ment which broke from the thin red lips. The man re- 
 placed the notes and, with the pocket-book in his hand, 
 hesitated. Laverick, who thought that things had gone
 
 PENETRATING A MYSTERY 225 
 
 far enough, stepped lightly out from his hiding-place and 
 stood between his unbidden visitor and the door. 
 
 " You had better put down that pocket-book," he ordered 
 quietly. 
 
 The man was upon him with a single spring, but Lav- 
 erick, without the slightest hesitation, knocked him prone 
 upon the floor, where he lay, for a moment, motionless. 
 Then he slowly picked himself up. His spectacles were 
 broken he blinked as he stood there. 
 
 "Sorry to be so rough," Laverick said. "Perhaps if 
 you will kindly realize that of the two I am much the 
 stronger man, you will be so good as to sit in that chair 
 and tell me the meaning of your intrusion." 
 
 The man obeyed. He covered his eyes with his hand, 
 for a moment, as though in pain. 
 
 " I imagine," he said and it seemed to Laverick that 
 his voice had a slight foreign accent "I imagine that 
 the motive for my paying you this visit is fairly clear to 
 you. People who have compromising possessions may 
 always expect visits of this sort. You see, one runs so 
 little risk." 
 
 "So little risk!" Laverick repeated. 
 
 "Exactly," the other answered. "Confess that you 
 are not in the least inclined to ring your bell and send for 
 a constable to give me in charge for being in possession 
 of a pocket-book abstracted from your safe, containing 
 twenty thousand pounds in Bank of England notes." 
 
 " It would n't do at all," Laverick admitted. 
 
 " You are a man of common sense," declared the other. 
 "It would not do. Now comes the time when I have a 
 question to ask you. There was a sealed document in 
 this pocket-book. Where is it? What have you done 
 with it?"
 
 226 HAVOC 
 
 "Can you tell me," Laverick asked, "why I should 
 answer questions from a person whom I discover appar- 
 ently engaged in a nefarious attempt at burglary?" 
 
 The man's hand shot out from his trouser-pocket, 
 and Laverick looked into the gleaming muzzle of a 
 revolver. 
 
 "Because if you don't, you die," was the quick reply. 
 "Whether you've read that document or not, I want it 
 If you 've read it, you know the sort of men you 've got 
 to deal with. If you have n't, take my word for it 
 that we waste no time. The document ! Will you give 
 it me?" 
 
 "Do I understand that you are threatening me?" 
 Laverick asked, retreating a few steps. 
 
 "You may understand that this is a repeating revolver, 
 and that I seldom miss a half-crown at twenty paces," 
 his visitor answered. " If you put out your hand toward 
 that bell, it will be the last movement you'll ever make 
 on earth." 
 
 " London is n't really the place for this sort of thing," 
 Laverick said. "If you discharge that revolver, you 
 have n't a dog's chance of getting clear of the building. 
 My clerks would rush out after you into the street. You'd 
 find yourself surrounded by a crowd of business men. 
 You could n't make your way through anywhere. You 'd 
 be held up before you'd gone a dozen yards. Put down 
 your revolver. We can perhaps settle this little matter 
 without it." 
 
 " The document !" the man ordered. " You 've got it ! 
 You must have it ! You took that pocket-book from a 
 dead man, and in that pocket-book was the document. 
 We must have it. We intend to have it." 
 
 "And who, may I ask, are we?" Laverick inquired.
 
 PENETRATING A MYSTERY 227 
 
 "If you do not know, what does it matter? Will you 
 give it to me?" 
 
 Laverick shook his head. 
 
 "I have no document." 
 
 The man in the chair leaned forward. The muzzle of 
 his revolver was very bright, and he held it in fingers 
 which were firm as a rock. 
 
 "Give it to me!" he repeated. "You ought to know 
 that you are not dealing with men who are unaccustomed 
 to death. You have it about you. Produce it, and I've 
 done with you. Deny me, and you have not time to say 
 your prayers !" 
 
 Laverick was leaning against a small table which stood 
 near the door. His fingers suddenly gripped the ledger 
 which lay upon it. He held it in front of his face for a 
 single moment, and then dashed it at his visitor. He 
 followed behind with one desperate spring. Once, twice, 
 the revolver barked out. Laverick felt the skin of his 
 temple burn and a flick on the ear which reminded him 
 of his school-days. Then his hand was upon the other 
 man's throat and the revolver lay upon the carpet. 
 
 "We'll see about that. By the Lord, I've a good 
 mind to wring the life out of you. That bullet of yours 
 might have been in my temple." 
 
 "It was meant to be there," the man gasped. "Hand 
 over the document, you pig-headed fool ! It '11 cost you 
 your life if not to-day, to-morrow." 
 
 "I'll be hanged if you get it, anyway!" Laverick 
 answered fiercely. " You assassin ! Scoundrel ! To 
 come here and make a cold-blooded effort at murder ! 
 You shall see what you think of the inside of an English 
 prison." 
 
 The man laughed contemptuously.
 
 228 HAVOC 
 
 "And what about the pocket-book?" he asked. 
 
 Laverick was silent. His assailant smiled and shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 "Come," he said, "I have made my effort and failed. 
 You have twenty thousand pounds. That's a fair price, 
 but I'll add another twenty thousand for that document 
 unopened." 
 
 " It is possible that we might deal," Laverick remarked, 
 kicking the revolver a little further away. " Unfortunately, 
 I am too much in the dark. Tell me the real position of 
 the murdered man ? Tell me why he was murdered ? 
 Tell me the contents of this document and why it was in 
 his possession? Perhaps I may then be inclined to treat 
 with you." 
 
 "You are either an astonishingly ingenuous person, 
 Mr. Laverick," his visitor declared, " or you 're too subtle 
 for me. You do not expect me to believe that you are in 
 this with your eyes blindfolded ? You do not expect me 
 to believe that you do not know what is in that sealed 
 envelope ? Bah ! It is a child's game, that, and we play 
 as men with men." 
 
 Laverick shook his head. 
 
 "Your offer," he asked, "what is it exactly?" 
 
 " Twenty thousand pounds," the man answered. " The 
 document is worth no more than that to you. How you 
 came into this thing is a mystery, but you are in and, what 
 is more, you have possession. Twenty thousand pounds, 
 Mr. Laverick. It is a large sum of money. You find it 
 interesting ? " 
 
 "I find it interesting," Laverick answered dryly, "but 
 I am not a seller." 
 
 The intruder moved his hand away from his eyes. His 
 expression was full of wonder.
 
 PENETRATING A MYSTERY 229 
 
 " Consider for a moment," he said. " While that docu- 
 ment remains in your possession, you walk the narrow 
 way, your life hangs upon a thread. Better surrender it 
 and attend to your stocks and shares. Heaven knows 
 how you first came into our affairs, but the sooner you 
 are out of them the better. What do you say now to 
 my offer?" 
 
 "It is refused," Laverick declared. "I regret to add," 
 he continued, " that I have already spared you all the time 
 I have at my disposal. Forgive me." 
 
 He pressed a button with his finger. His visitor rose 
 up in anger. 
 
 "You are not such a fool!" he exclaimed. "You are 
 not going to send me away without it? Why, I tell you 
 that there won't be a safe corner in the world for 
 you ! " 
 
 Halsey opened the door. Laverick nodded toward his 
 visitor. 
 
 "Show this gentleman out, Halsey," he ordered. 
 
 Halsey started. The noise of the revolver shot had 
 evidently been muffled by the heavy connecting doors, 
 but there was a smell of gunpowder in the room, and a 
 little wreath of smoke. The man rose slowly to his feet, 
 still blinking. 
 
 "It must be as you will, of course. I wonder if you 
 would be so good as to let your clerk direct me to an 
 oculist? I am, unfortunately, a helpless man in this 
 condition." 
 
 "There is one a few yards off," Laverick answered. 
 " Put on your hat, Halsey, and show this gentleman where 
 he can get some glasses." 
 
 His visitor leaned towards Laverick. 
 
 "It is your life which is in question, not my eyesight,"
 
 2 3 o HAVOC 
 
 he muttered. "Do you accept my offer? Will you give 
 me the document ? " 
 
 "I do not and I will not," Laverick replied. "I shall 
 not part with anything until I know more than I know at 
 present." 
 
 The man stood motionless for a moment. His fingers 
 seemed to be twitching. Laverick had a fancy that 
 he was about to spring, but if ever he had had any 
 thoughts of the kind, Halsey's reappearance checked 
 them. 
 
 "I am much obliged to you, Mr. Laverick," he said 
 quietly. "We shall, perhaps, resume this discussion at 
 some future date." 
 
 With that he turned and followed Halsey out of the 
 room. Laverick went to the window and threw it wide 
 open. The smoke floated out, the smell of gunpowder 
 was gradually dispersed. Then he walked back to his 
 seat. Once more he locked up the notes. The document 
 was safe in his pocket. There was a slight mark by the 
 side of his temple, and his ear, he discovered, was bleed- 
 ing. He rang the bell and Halsey entered. 
 
 " Has our friend gone, Halsey ? " 
 
 "I left him in the optician's, sir," the clerk answered. 
 "He was buying some spectacles." 
 
 Laverick glanced at the floor, where the remains of 
 those gold-rimmed glasses were scattered. 
 
 "You had better send for a locksmith at once," he 
 said. " The gentleman who has been here had a skeleton 
 key to my safe. We'll have a combination put on." 
 
 "Very good, sir," Halsey answered. 
 
 "And, Halsey," his master continued, "be careful 
 about one thing, for your own sake as well as mine. 
 If that man presents himself again, don't let him come
 
 PENETRATING A MYSTERY 231 
 
 into my room unannounced. If you can help it, don't 
 let him come in at all. I have an idea that he might be 
 dangerous." 
 
 The clerk's face was a study. 
 
 "If he presents himself here, sir," he announced 
 stiffly, " I shall take the liberty of sending for the police." 
 
 Laverick made no reply.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIH 
 
 LAVERICK'S NAEROW ESCAPE 
 
 AT precisely a quarter past four, nothing having happened 
 in the meantime but a steady rush of business, Laverick 
 ordered a taxicab to be summoned. He then unlocked 
 his safe, placed the pocket-book securely in his breast 
 pocket, walked through the office, and directed the man 
 to drive to Chancery Lane. Here at the headquarters of 
 the Safe Deposit Company he engaged a compartment, 
 and down in the strong-room locked up the pocket-book. 
 There was only now the document left. Stepping once 
 more into the street, he found that his taxicab had van- 
 ished. He looked up and down in vain. The man had 
 not been paid and there seemed to be no reason for his 
 departure. A policeman who was standing by touched 
 his hat and addressed him. 
 
 "Were you looking for that taxi you stepped out of a 
 few minutes ago, sir?" he asked. 
 
 " I was," Laverick answered. " I had n't paid him and 
 I told him to wait." 
 
 "I thought there was something queer about it," the 
 policeman remarked. "Soon after you had gone inside, 
 two gentlemen drove up in a hansom. They got out here 
 and one of them spoke to your driver, who shook his head 
 and pointed to his flag. The gent then said something 
 else to him can't say as I heard what it was, but it 
 was probably offering him double fare. Anyway, they 
 both got in and off went your taxi, sir."
 
 LAVERlCK'S NARROW ESCAPE 233 
 
 "Thank you," Laverick said thoughtfully. "It sounds 
 a little perplexing." 
 
 He hesitated for a moment. 
 
 " Constable," he continued, " I have just made a very 
 valuable deposit in there, and I had an idea that I might 
 be followed. I have still in my pocket a document of 
 great importance. I have no doubt whatever but that the 
 object of the men who have taken my taxicab is to leave 
 me in the street here alone under circumstances which 
 will render a quick attack upon me likely to be 
 successful." 
 
 The policeman turned his head and looked at Laverick 
 incredulously. He was more than half inclined to believe 
 that this was a practical joke. Were they not standing on 
 the pavement in Chancery Lane, and was not he an able- 
 bodied policeman of great bulk and immense muscle! 
 Yet his companion did not look by any means a man of 
 the nervous order. Laverick was broad-shouldered, his 
 skin was tanned a wholesome color, his bearing was the 
 bearing of a man prepared to defend himself at any time. 
 The constable smiled in a non-committal manner. 
 
 "If you'll excuse my saying so, sir," he remarked, "I 
 don't think this is exactly the spot any one would choose 
 for an assault." 
 
 "I agree with you," Laverick answered, "but, on the 
 other hand, you must remember that these gentlemen have 
 had no choice. I stepped from my office direct into the 
 taxi, and I proposed to drive straight from here to the place 
 where I shall probably leave the other document I am 
 carrying with me. Why I have taken you into my con- 
 fidence is to ask you this. Can you walk with me to the 
 corner of the street, or until we meet a taxicab ? It sounds 
 cowardly, but, as a matter of fact, I am not afraid. I
 
 234 HAVOC 
 
 simply want to make sure of delivering this document to 
 the person to whom it belongs." 
 
 The constable stood still, a little perplexed. 
 
 "My beat, sir," he said, "only goes about twenty-five 
 yards further on. I will walk to the corner of Holborn 
 with you, if you desire it. At the same time, I may say 
 that I am breaking regulations. How do I know that it 
 is not your scheme to get me away from this neighbor- 
 hood for some purpose of your own?" 
 
 "You don't believe anything of the sort," Laverick 
 declared, with a smile. 
 
 "I do not, sir," the policeman admitted. "Keep by 
 my side, and I think that nothing will happen to you be- 
 fore we reach Holborn." 
 
 Laverick was a man of more than medium height, 
 but by the side of the policeman he seemed short. Both 
 scanned the faces of the passers-by closely the police- 
 man with mild interest, Laverick with almost feverish 
 anxiety. It was a gray afternoon, pleasant but close. 
 There seemed to be nothing whatever to account for the 
 feeling of nervousness which had suddenly come over 
 Laverick. He felt himself in danger he had no idea 
 how, or in what way but the conviction was there. He 
 took every step fully alert, absolutely on his guard. 
 
 They were almost within sight of Holborn when a cry 
 from the bystanders caused them to look away into the 
 middle of the road. Laverick only cast one glance there 
 and abandoned every instinct of curiosity, thinking once 
 more only of himself and his own position. With the 
 constable, however, it was naturally different. He saw 
 something which called at once for his intervention, and 
 he immediately forgot the somewhat singular task upon 
 which he was engaged. A man had fallen in the middle
 
 LAVERICK'S NARROW ESCAPE 235 
 
 of the street, either knocked down by the shaft of a passing 
 vehicle or in some sort of fit. There was a tangle of 
 rearing horses, an omnibus was making desperate efforts 
 to avoid the prostrate body. The constable sprang to 
 the rescue. Laverick, instantly suspicious and realizing 
 that there was no one in front of him, turned swiftly around. 
 He was just in time to receive upon his left arm the blow 
 which had been meant for the back of his head. He was 
 confronted by a man dressed exactly as he himself was, 
 in morning coat and silk hat, a man with long, lean face 
 and legal appearance, such a person as would have passed 
 anywhere without attracting a moment's suspicion. Yet, 
 in the space of a few seconds he had whipped out from 
 one pocket, with the skill almost of a juggler, a vicious- 
 looking life-preserver, and from the other a pocket-hand- 
 kerchief soaked with chloroform. Laverick, quick and 
 resourceful, feeling his left arm sink helpless, struck at 
 the man with his right and sent him staggering against 
 the wall. The handkerchief, with its load of sickening 
 odor, fell to the pavement. The man was obviously 
 worsted. Laverick sprang at him. They were almost 
 unobserved, for the crow r d was all intent upon the acci- 
 dent in the roadway. With wonderful skill, his assailant 
 eluded his attempt to close, and tore at his coat. Laverick 
 struck at him again but met only the air. The man's 
 fingers now were upon his pocket, but this time Laverick 
 made no mistake. He struck downward so hard that 
 with a fierce cry of pain the man relaxed his hold. Before 
 he could recover, Laverick had struck him again. He 
 reeled into the crowd that was fast gathering around them, 
 attracted by what seemed to be a fight between two men 
 of unexceptionable appearance. But there was to be no 
 more fight. Through the people, swift-footed, cunning,
 
 236 HAVOC 
 
 resourceful, his assailant seemed to find some hidden 
 way. Laverick glared fiercely around him, but the man 
 had gone. His left hand crept to his chest. The victory 
 was with him; the document was still there. 
 
 At the outside of the double crowd he perceived a taxi. 
 Ignoring the storm of questions with which he was assailed, 
 and the advancing helmet of his friend the policeman at 
 the back of the crowd, Laverick hailed it and stepped 
 quickly inside. 
 
 " Back out of this and drive to Dover Street," he directed. 
 
 The man obeyed him. People raced to look through 
 the window at him. The other commotion had died away, 
 the man in the road had got up and walked off. A 
 policeman came hurrying along but he was just too late. 
 Very soon they were on their way down Holborn. Once 
 more Laverick had escaped. 
 
 A French man-servant, with the sad face and immacu- 
 late dress of a High-Church cleric, took possession of him 
 as soon as he had asked for Mademoiselle Idiale. He 
 was shown into one of the most delightful little rooms he 
 had ever even dreamed of. The walls were hung with that 
 peculiar shade of blue satin which Mademoiselle so often 
 affected in her clothes. Laverick, who was something 
 of a connoisseur, saw nowhere any object which was not, 
 of its sort, priceless, French furniture of the best and 
 choicest period, a statuette which made him, for a mo- 
 ment, almost forget the scene from which he had just 
 arrived. The air in the room seemed as though it had 
 passed through a grove of lemon trees, it was fresh 
 and sweet yet curiously fragrant. Laverick sank down 
 into one of the luxurious blue-brocaded chairs, conscious 
 for the first time that he was out of breath. Then the
 
 LAVERICK'S NARROW ESCAPE 237 
 
 door opened silently and there entered not the woman 
 whom he had been expecting, but Mr. Lassen. Laverick 
 rose to his feet half doubtfully. Lassen's small, queerly- 
 shaped face seemed to have become one huge ingratiating 
 smile. 
 
 "I am very glad to see you, Mr. Laverick," he said, 
 "very glad indeed." 
 
 "I have come to call upon Mademoiselle Idiale," 
 Laverick answered, somewhat curtly. He had disliked 
 this man from the first moment he had seen him, and he 
 saw no particular reason why he should conceal his 
 feelings. 
 
 "I am here to explain," Mr. Lassen continued, seating 
 himself opposite to Laverick. "Mademoiselle Idiale is 
 unfortunately prevented from seeing you. She has a 
 severe nervous headache, and her only chance of appear- 
 ing to-night is to remain perfectly undisturbed. Women 
 of her position, as you may understand, have to be excep- 
 tionally careful. It would be a very serious matter indeed 
 if she were unable to sing to-night." 
 
 " I am exceedingly sorry to hear it," Laverick answered- 
 " In that case, I will call again when Mademoiselle Idiale 
 has recovered." 
 
 "By all means, my dear sir!" Mr. Lassen exclaimed. 
 " Many times, let us hope. But in the meantime, there is 
 a little affair of a document which you were going to 
 deliver to Mademoiselle. She is most anxious that you 
 should hand it to me most anxious. She will tender 
 you her thanks personally, to-morrow or the next day, 
 if she is well enough to receive." 
 
 Laverick shook his head firmly. 
 
 "Under no circumstances," he declared, "should I 
 think of delivering the document into any other i
 
 238 HAVOC 
 
 save those of Mademoiselle Idiale. To tell you the truth, 
 I had not fully decided whether to part with it even to 
 her. I was simply prepared to hear what she had to say. 
 But it may save time if I assure you, Mr. Lassen, that 
 nothing would induce me to part with it to any one else." 
 
 There was no trace left of that ingratiating smile upon 
 Mr. Lassen's face. He had the appearance now of an 
 ugly animal about to show its teeth. Laverick was sud- 
 denly on his guard. More adventures, he thought, cast- 
 ing a somewhat contemptuous glance at the physique of 
 the other man. He laid his fingers as though carelessly 
 upon a small bronze ornament which reposed amongst 
 others on a table by his side. If Mr. Lassen's fat and 
 ugly hand should steal toward his pocket, Laverick was 
 prepared to hurl the ornament at his head. 
 
 " I am very sorry to hear you say that, Mr. Laverick," 
 Lassen said slowly. "I hope very much that you will 
 see your way clear to change your mind. I can assure 
 you that I have as much right to the document as Made- 
 moiselle Idiale, and that it is her earnest wish that you 
 should hand it over to me. Further, I may inform you 
 that the document itself is a most incriminating one. Its 
 possession upon your person, or upon the person of any 
 one who was not upon his guard, might be a very serious 
 matter indeed." 
 
 Laverick shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "As a matter of fact," he declared, "I certainly have 
 no idea of carrying it about with me. On the other hand, 
 I shall part with it to no one. I might discuss the matter 
 with Mademoiselle Idiale as soon as she is recovered. I 
 am not disposed I mean no offence, sir but I may 
 say frankly that I am not disposed even to do as much 
 with vou."
 
 LAVERICK'S NARROW ESCAPE 239 
 
 Laverick rose to his feet with the obvious intention of 
 leaving. Lassen followed his example and confronted 
 him. 
 
 "Mr. Laverick," he said, "in your own interests you 
 must not talk like that, in your own interests, I say." 
 
 "At any rate," Laverick remarked, "my interests are 
 better looked after by myself than by strangers. You 
 must forgive my adding, Mr. Lassen, that you are a 
 stranger to me." 
 
 "No more so than Mademoiselle Idiale!" the little 
 man exclaimed. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Idiale has given me certain proof that 
 she knew at least of the existence of this document," 
 Laverick answered. "She has established, therefore, a 
 certain claim to my consideration. You announce your- 
 self as Mademoiselle Idiale's deputy, but you bring me 
 no proof of the fact, nor, in any case, am I disposed to 
 treat with you. You must allow me to wish you good 
 afternoon." 
 
 Lassen shook his head. 
 
 "Mr. Laverick," he declared, "you are too impetuous. 
 You force me to remind you that your own position as 
 holder of that document is not a very secure one. All the 
 police in this capital are searching to-day for the man 
 who killed that unfortunate creature who was found 
 murdered in Crooked Friars' Alley. If they could find the 
 man who was in possession of his pocket-book, who was 
 in possession of twenty thousand pounds taken from the 
 dead man's body and with it had saved his business and 
 his credit, how then, do you think ? I say nothing of the 
 document." 
 
 Laverick was silent for a moment. He realized, how- 
 ever, that to make terms with this man was impossible.
 
 2 4 o HAVOC 
 
 Besides, he did not trust him. He did not even trust 
 him so far as to believe him the accredited envoy of 
 Mademoiselle. 
 
 "My unfortunate position," Laverick said, "has nothing 
 whatever to do with the matter. Where you got your 
 information from I cannot say. I neither accept nor 
 deny it. But I can assure you that I am not to be intimi- 
 dated. This document will remain in my possession until 
 some one can show me a very good reason for parting 
 with it." 
 
 Lassen beat the back of the chair against which he was 
 standing with his clenched fist. 
 
 "A reason why you should part with it !" he exclaimed 
 fiercely. " Man, it stares you there in the face ! If you 
 do not part with it, you will be arrested within twenty- 
 four hours for the murder or complicity in the murder 
 of Rudolph Von Behrling ! That I swear ! That I shall 
 see to myself!" 
 
 "In which case," Laverick remarked, "the document 
 will fall into the hands of the English police." 
 
 The shot told. Laverick could have laughed as he 
 watched its effect upon his listener. Mr. Lassen's face 
 was black with unuttered curses. He looked as though 
 he would have fallen upon Laverick bodily. 
 
 "What do you know about its contents?" he hissed. 
 "Why do you suppose it would not suit my purpose to 
 have it fall into the hands of the English police?" 
 
 "I can see no reason whatever," Laverick answered, 
 "why I should take you into my confidence as to how 
 much I know and how much I do not know. I wish you 
 good afternoon, Mr. Lassen ! I shall be ready to wait 
 upon Mademoiselle Idiale at any time she sends for me. 
 But in case it should interest you to be made aware of
 
 LAVERICK'S NARROW ESCAPE 241 
 
 the fact," he added, with a little bow, " I am not going 
 round with this terrible document in my possession." 
 
 He moved to the door. Already his hand was upon the 
 knob when he saw the movement for which he had watched. 
 Laverick, with a single bound, was upon his would-be 
 assailant. The hand which had already closed upon the 
 butt of the small revolver was gripped as though in a 
 vice. With a scream of pain Lassen dropped the weapon 
 upon the floor. Laverick picked it up, thrust it into his 
 coat pocket and, taking the man's collar with both hands, 
 he shook him till the eyes seemed starting from his head 
 and his shrieks of fear were changed into moans. Then 
 he flung him into a corner of the room. 
 
 " You cowardly brute ! " he exclaimed. " You come 
 of the breed of men who shoot from behind. If ever I lay 
 my hands upon you again, you '11 be lucky if you live to 
 whimper about it." 
 
 He left the room and rang for the lift. He saw no trace 
 of any servants in the hall, nor heard any sound of any 
 one moving. From Dover Street he drove straight to 
 Zoe's house. Keeping the cab waiting, he knocked at the 
 door. She opened it herself at once, and her eyes glowed 
 with pleasure. 
 
 " How delightful ! " she cried. " Please come in. Have 
 you come to take me to the theatre? " 
 
 He followed her into the parlor and closed the door 
 behind them. 
 
 " Zoe," he said, "I am going to ask you a favor." 
 
 "Me a favor?" she repeated. "I think you know 
 how happy it will make me if there is anything anything 
 at all in the world that I could do." 
 
 " A week ago," Laverick continued. " I was an honest 
 but not very successful stockbroker, with a natural long-
 
 242 HAVOC 
 
 ing for adventures which never came my way. Since then 
 things have altered. I have stumbled in upon the most 
 curious little chain of happenings which ever became 
 entwined with the life of a commonplace being like my- 
 self. The net result, for the moment, is this. Every one 
 is trying to steal from me a certain document which I 
 have in my pocket. I want to hide it for the night. I 
 cannot go to the police, it is too late to go back to Chancery 
 Lane, and I have an instinctive feeling that my flat is 
 absolutely at the mercy of my enemies. May I hide my 
 document in your room? I do not believe for a moment 
 that any one would think of searching here." 
 
 "Of course you may," she answered. "But listen. 
 Can you see out into the street without moving very 
 much*?" 
 
 He turned his head. He had been standing with his 
 back to the window, and Zoe had been facing it. 
 
 " Yes, I can see into the street," he assented. 
 
 " Tell me you see that taxi on the other side of the 
 way?" she asked. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " It was n't there when I drove up," he remarked. 
 
 "I was at the window, looking out, when you came," 
 she said. "It followed you out from the Square into this 
 street. Directly you stopped, I saw the man put on the 
 brake and pull up his cab. It seemed to me so strange, 
 just as though some one were watching you all the time." 
 
 Laverick stood still, looking out of the window. 
 
 "Who lives in the house opposite?" he asked. 
 
 "I am afraid," she answered, "that there are no very 
 nice people who live round here. The people whom I 
 see coming in and out of that house are not nice people 
 at all."
 
 LAVERICK'S NARROW ESCAPE 243 
 
 "I understand," he said. "Thank you, Zoe. You 
 are right. Whatever I do with my precious document, I 
 will not leave it here. To tell you the truth, I thought, 
 for certain reasons, that after I had paid my last call this 
 afternoon I should not be followed any more. Come back 
 with me and I will give you some dinner before you go 
 to the theatre." 
 
 She clapped her hands. 
 
 "I shall love it," she declared. "But what shall you 
 do with the document P" 
 
 "I shall take a room at the Milan Hotel," he said, 
 "and give it to the cashier. They have a wonderful safe 
 there. It is the best thing I can think of. Can you sug- 
 gest anything?" 
 
 She considered for a moment. 
 
 " Do you know what is inside ?" she asked. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I have no idea. It is the most mysterious document 
 in the world, so far as I am concerned." 
 
 " Why not open it and read it ?" she suggested; "then 
 you will know exactly what it is all about. You can learn 
 it by heart and tear it up." 
 
 " I must think that over," he said. " One second before 
 we go out." 
 
 He took from his pocket the revolver which Lassen 
 had dropped. It was a perfect little weapon, and fully 
 charged. He replaced it in his pocket, keeping his finger 
 upon the trigger. 
 
 " Now, Zoe, if you are ready," he said, " come along." 
 
 They stepped out and entered the taxi, unmolested, 
 and Laverick ordered : 
 
 "To the Milan Hotel."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 LASSEN'S TREACHERY DISCOVERED 
 
 ABOUT twenty minutes past six on the same evening, 
 Bellamy, his clothes thick with dust, his face dark with 
 anger, jumped lightly from a sixty horse-power car and 
 rang the bell of the lift at number 15, Dover Street. Ar- 
 rived on the first floor, he was confronted almost immedi- 
 ately by the sad-faced man-servant of Mademoiselle Idiale. 
 "Mademoiselle is in?" Bellamy asked quickly. 
 The man's expression was one of sombre regret. 
 "Mademoiselle is spending the day in the country, sir." 
 Bellamy took him by the shoulders and flung him 
 against the wall. 
 
 "Thank you," he said, "I've heard that before." 
 
 He walked down the passage and knocked softly at 
 
 the door of Louise's sleeping apartment. There was no 
 
 answer. He knocked again and listened at the key-hole. 
 
 There was some movement inside but no one spoke. 
 
 " Louise," he cried softly, " let me in. It is I David." 
 
 Again the only reply was the strangest of sounds. 
 
 Almost it seemed as though a woman were trying to speak 
 
 with a hand over her mouth. Then Bellamy suddenly 
 
 stiffened into rigid attention. There were voices in the 
 
 small reception room, the voice of Henri, the butler, 
 
 and another. Reluctantly he turned away from the 
 
 closed door and walked swiftly down the passage. He 
 
 entered the reception room and looked around him in 
 
 amazement. It was still in disorder. Lassen sat in an
 
 LASSEN'S TREACHERY 245 
 
 easy-chair with a tumbler of brandy by his side. Henri 
 was tying a bandage around his head, his collar was torn, 
 there were marks of blood about his shirt. Bellamy's 
 eyes sparkled. He closed the door behind him. 
 
 "Come," he exclaimed, "after all, I fancy that my 
 arrival is somewhat opportune ! " 
 
 Henri turned towards him with a reproachful gesture. 
 
 "Monsieur Lassen has been unwell, Monsieur," he 
 said. "He has had a fit and fallen down." 
 
 Bellamy laughed contemptuously. 
 
 "I think I can reconstruct the scene a little better than 
 that," he declared. "What do you say, Mr. Lassen?" 
 
 The man glared at him viciously. 
 
 "I do not know what you are talking about," he said. 
 "I do not wish to speak to you. I am ill. You had better 
 go and persuade Mademoiselle to return. She is at 
 Dover, waiting." 
 
 "You are a liar!" Bellamy answered. "She is in her 
 room now, locked up guarded, perhaps, by one of your 
 creatures. I have been half-way to Dover, but I tumbled 
 to your scheme in time, Mr. Lassen. You found our 
 friend Laverick a trifle awkward, I fancy." 
 
 Lassen swore through his teeth but said nothing. 
 
 "From your somewhat dishevelled appearance," Bel- 
 lamy continued, "I think I may conclude that you were 
 not able to come to any amicable arrangement with Made- 
 moiselle's visitor. He declined to accept you as her proxy, 
 I imagine. Still, one must make sure." 
 
 He advanced quickly. Lassen shrank back in his chair. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he asked gruffly. "Keep him 
 away from me, Henri. Ring the bell for your other man. 
 This fellow will do me a mischief." 
 
 "Not I," Bellamy answered scornfully. "Stay where
 
 246 HAVOC 
 
 you are, Henri. To your other accomplishments I have 
 no doubt you include that of valeting. Take off his coat." 
 
 "But, Monsieur!" Henri protested. 
 
 "I'm d d if he shall !" the man in the chair snarled. 
 
 Bellamy turned to the door, locked it, and put the key 
 in his pocket. 
 
 "Look here," he said, "I do not for one moment believe 
 that Laverick handed over to you the document you were 
 so anxious to obtain. On the other hand, I imagine that 
 your somewhat battered appearance is the result of fruit- 
 less argument on your part with a view to inducing him 
 to do so. Nevertheless, I can afford to run no risks. The 
 coat first, please, Henri. It is necessary that I search it 
 thoroughly." 
 
 There was a brief hesitation. Bellamy's hand went 
 reluctantly into his pocket. 
 
 "I hate to seem melodramatic," he declared, "and I 
 never carry firearms, but I have a little life-preserver here 
 which I have learned how to use pretty effectively. Come, 
 you know, it is n't a fair fight. You've had all you want, 
 Lassen, and Henri there has n't the muscle of a chicken." 
 
 Lassen rose, groaning, to his feet and allowed his coat 
 to be removed. Bellamy glanced through the pockets, 
 holding one letter for a moment in his hands as he glanced 
 at the address. 
 
 "The writing of our friend Streuss," he remarked, with 
 a smile. " No, you need not fear, Lassen ! I am not 
 going to read it. There is plenty of proof of your treachery 
 without this." 
 
 Lassen 's face was livid and his eyes seemed like beads. 
 Bellamy handed back the coat. 
 
 "That's all right," he said. "Nothing there, I am 
 glad to see or in the waistcoat," he added, passing his
 
 LASSEN'S TREACHERY 247 
 
 hands over it. "I'll trouble you to stand up for a mo- 
 ment, Mr. Lassen." 
 
 The man did as he was bid and Bellamy felt him 
 all over. When he had finished, he held in his hand a 
 key. 
 
 k< The key of Mademoiselle's chamber, I have no doubt," 
 he announced, "I will leave you, then, while I see what 
 deviltry you have been up to." 
 
 He walked calmly to the table which stood by the window 
 and deliberately cut the telephone wire. With the instru- 
 ment under his arm, he left the room. Lassen blundered 
 to his feet as though to intercept him, but Bellamy's eyes 
 suddenly flashed red fury, and the life-preserver of which 
 he had spoken glittered above his head. Lassen staggered 
 away. 
 
 "I'm a long-suffering man," Bellamy said, "and if you 
 don't remember now that you're the beaten dog, I may 
 lose my temper." 
 
 He locked them in, walked down the passage and opened 
 the door of Louise's bedchamber with fingers that trembled 
 a little. With a smothered oath he cut the cord from the 
 arms of the maid and the gag from her mouth. Louise, 
 clad in a loose afternoon gown, was lying upon the bed, 
 as though asleep. Bellamy saw with an impulse of relief 
 that she was breathing regularly. 
 
 "This is Lassen's work, of course!" he exclaimed. 
 " What have they done to her ? " 
 
 The maid spoke thickly. She was very pale, and un- 
 steady upon her feet. 
 
 " It was something they put in her wine," she faltered. 
 " I heard Mr. Lassen say that it would keep her quiet 
 for three or four hours. I think I think that she is 
 waking now."
 
 248 HAVOC 
 
 Louise opened her eyes and looked at them with amaze- 
 ment. Bellamy sat by the side of the bed and supported 
 her with his arm. 
 
 "It is only a skirmish, dear," he whispered, "and it is 
 a drawn battle, although you got the worst of it." 
 
 She put her hand to her head, struggling to remember. 
 
 "Mr. Laverick has been here?" she asked. 
 
 "He has. Your friend Lassen has been taking a hand 
 in the game. I came here to find you like this and An- 
 nette tied up. Henri is in with him. What has become 
 of your other servants I don't know." 
 
 "Henri asked for a holiday for them," she said, the 
 color slowly returning to her cheeks. "I begin to under- 
 stand. But tell me, what happened when Mr. Laverick 
 came?" 
 
 "I can only guess," Bellamy answered, "but it seems 
 that Lassen must have received him as though with your 
 authority." 
 
 " And what then ? " she asked quickly. 
 
 "I am almost certain," Bellamy declared, "that La- 
 verick refused to have anything to do with him. I received 
 a wire from Dover to say that you were on your way home, 
 and asking me to meet you at the Lord Warden Hotel. 
 I borrowed Montresor's racing-car, but I sent telegrams, 
 and I was pretty soon on my way back. When I arrived 
 here, I found Lassen in your little room with a broken 
 head. Evidently Laverick and he had a scrimmage and 
 he got the worst of it. I have searched him to his bones 
 and he has no paper. Laverick brought it here, without 
 a doubt, and has taken it away again." 
 
 She rose to her feet. 
 
 "Go and let Lassen out," she said. "Tell him he must 
 never come here again. I will see him at the Opera House
 
 LASSEN'S TREACHERY 249 
 
 to-night or to-morrow night that is, if I can get there. 
 I do not know whether I shall feel fit to sing." 
 
 "I shall take the liberty, also," remarked Bellamy, 
 " of kicking Henri out." 
 
 Louise sighed. 
 
 "He was such a good servant. I think it must have 
 cost our friend Streuss a good deal to buy Henri. You 
 will come back to me when you have finished with them ? " 
 
 Bellamy made short work of his discomfited prisoners. 
 Lassen was surly but only eager to depart; Henri was 
 resigned but tearful. Almost as they went the other ser- 
 vants began to return from their various missions. Bel- 
 lamy w r ent back to Louise, who was lying down again 
 and drinking some tea. She motioned Bellamy to come 
 over to her side. 
 
 " Tell me," she asked, " what are you going to do now ?" 
 
 "I am going to do what I ought to have done before," 
 Bellamy answered. "Laverick's connection with this 
 affair is suspicious enough, but after all he is a sportsman 
 and an Englishman. I am going to tell him what that 
 envelope contains tell him the truth." 
 
 "You are right! "she exclaimed. "Whatever he may 
 have done, if you tell him the truth he will give you that 
 document. I am sure of it. Do you know where to find 
 him?" 
 
 "I shall go to his rooms," Bellamy declared. "I must 
 be quick, too, for Lassen is free they will know that 
 he has failed." 
 
 " Come back to me, David," she begged, and he kissed 
 ter fingers and hurried out.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE CONTEST FOE THE PAPERS 
 
 LAVERICK, sitting with Zoe at dinner, caught his com- 
 panion looking around the restaurant with an expression 
 in her face which he did not who'ly understand. 
 
 "Something is the matter with you this evening, Zoe," 
 he said anxiously. "Tell me what it is. You don't 
 like this place, perhaps?" 
 
 "Of course I do." 
 
 " It is your dinner, then, or me ? " he persisted. " Come, 
 out with it. Have n't we promised to tell each other the 
 truth always?" 
 
 The pink color came slowly into her cheeks. Her eyes, 
 raised for a moment to his, were almost reproachful. 
 
 "You know very well that it is not anything to do with 
 you," she whispered. "You are too kind to me all the 
 time. Only," she went on, a little hesitatingly, "don't 
 you realize can't you see how differently most of the 
 girls here are dressed ? I don't mind so much for myself 
 but you you have so many friends. You keep on 
 seeing people whom you know. I am afraid they will 
 think that I ought not to be here." 
 
 He looked at her in surprise, mingled, perhaps, with 
 compunction. For the first time he appreciated the actual 
 shabbiness of her clothes. Everything about her was so 
 neat pathetically neat, as it seemed to him in one illu- 
 minating moment of realization. The white linen collar, 
 notwithstanding its frayed edges, was spotlessly clean.
 
 THE CONTEST FOR THE PAPERS 251 
 
 The black bow was carefully tied to conceal its worn 
 parts. Her gloves had been stitched a good many tunes. 
 Her gown, although it was tidy, was old-fashioned and had 
 distinctly seen its best days. He suddenly recognized the 
 effort the almost despairing effort which her toilette 
 had cost her. 
 
 "I don't think that men notice these things," he said 
 simply. " To me you look just as you should look and 
 I would n't change places with any other man in the room 
 for a great deal." 
 
 Her eyes were soft perilously soft as she looked 
 at him with uplifted eyebrows and a faint smile struggling 
 at the corners of her lips. A wave of tenderness crept 
 into his heart. What a brave little child she was ! 
 
 " You will quite spoil me if you make such nice speeches,'* 
 she murmured. 
 
 "Anyhow," he went on, speaking with decision, "so 
 long as you feel like that, you are going to have a new 
 gown or two and a new hat, and you are going to 
 have them at once. They are going to be bought with 
 your brother's money, mind. Shall I come shopping with 
 you?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Mind, it is partly for your sake that I give in," she 
 said. "It would be lovely to have you come, but you 
 would spend far too much money. You really mean it 
 all?" 
 
 " Absolutely," he answered. " I insist upon it." 
 
 She leaned towards him with dancing eyes. After all, 
 she was very much of a child. The prospect of a new 
 gown, now that she permitted herself to think of it, was 
 enthralling. 
 
 "I might get a coat and skirt." she remarked thought-
 
 252 HAVOC 
 
 fully, "and a simple white dress. A black hat would do 
 for both of them, then." 
 
 "Don't you study your brother too much," Laverick 
 declared. " His stock is going up all the time." 
 
 " Tell me your favorite color," she begged confidentially. 
 
 "I can't conceive your looking nicer than you do in 
 black," he replied. 
 
 She made a wry face. 
 
 " I suppose it must be black," she murmured doubtfully. 
 "It is much more economical than anything " 
 
 She broke off to bow to a stout, red-faced man who, 
 after a rude stare, had greeted her with a patronizing nod. 
 
 Laverick frowned. 
 
 "Who is that fellow?" he asked. 
 
 "Mr. Heepman, our stage-manager," Zoe answered, a 
 little timidly. 
 
 "Is there any particular reason why he should behave 
 like a boor?" Laverick continued, raising his voice a 
 little. 
 
 She caught at his arm in terror. The man was sitting 
 at the next table. 
 
 " Don't, please ! " she implored. " He might hear you. 
 He is, just behind there." 
 
 Laverick half turned in his chair. She guessed what 
 he was about to say, and went on rapidly. 
 
 "He has been so foolish," she whispered. "He has 
 asked me so often to go out with him. And he could get 
 me sent away, if he wanted, any time. He almost threat- 
 ened it, the last time I refused. Now that he has seen me 
 with you, he will be worse than ever." 
 
 Laverick's face darkened, and there was a peculiar 
 flash in his eyes. The man was certainly looking at them 
 in a rude manner.
 
 THE CONTEST FOR THE PAPERS 253 
 
 " There are so many of the girls who would only be too 
 pleased to go with him," Zoe continued, in a terrified 
 undertone. " I can't think why he bothers me." 
 
 "I can," Laverick muttered. "Let's forget about the 
 brute." 
 
 But the dinner was already spoiled for Zoe, so Laverick 
 paid the bill a few minutes later, and walked across to the 
 stage-door of the theatre with her. Her little hand, when 
 she gave it to him at parting, was quite cold. 
 
 "I'm as nervous as I can be," she confessed. "Mr. 
 Heepman will be watching all the night for something to 
 find fault with me about." 
 
 "Don't you let him bully you," Laverick begged. 
 
 "I won't," she promised. "Good-bye! Thanks so 
 much for my dinner." 
 
 She turned away with a brave attempt at a smile, but 
 it was only an attempt. Laverick walked on to his club. 
 There was no one in the dining-room whom he knew, 
 and the card-room was empty. He played one game of 
 billiards, but he played badly. He was upset. His nerves 
 were wrong he told himself, and little wonder. There 
 seemed to be no chance of a rubber at bridge, so he sallied 
 out again and walked aimlessly towards Covent Garden. 
 Outside the Opera House he hesitated and finally entered, 
 yielding to an impulse the nature of which he scarcely 
 recognized. While he was inquiring about a stall, a small 
 printed notice was thrust into his hand. He read it with 
 a slight start. 
 
 We regret to announce that owing to indisposition 
 Mademoiselle Idiale will not be able to appear this 
 evening. The part of Delilah will be taken by 
 Mademoiselle Blanche Temoigne, late of the Royal 
 Opera House, St. Petersburg.
 
 254 HAVOC 
 
 Ten minutes later, Laverick rang the bell of her 
 flat in Dover Street. A strange man-servant answered 
 him. 
 
 " I came to inquire after Mademoiselle Idiale," Laverick 
 said. 
 
 The man held out a tray on which was already a small 
 heap of cards. Laverick, however, retained his. 
 
 "I should be glad if you would take mine in to her," 
 he said. " I think it is just likely that she may see me for 
 a moment." 
 
 The servant's attitude was one of civil but unconcealed 
 hostility. He would have closed the door had not Laverick 
 already passed over the threshold. 
 
 "Madame is not well enough to receive visitors, sir," 
 the man declared. "She shall have your card as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 "I should like her to have it now," Laverick persisted, 
 drawing a five-pound note from his pocket. 
 
 The man looked at the note longingly. 
 
 "It would be only waste of time, sir," he declared. 
 " Mademoiselle is confined to her bedroom and my orders 
 are absolute." 
 
 " You are not the man who was here earlier in the day," 
 Laverick remarked. "I wonder," he continued, with 
 a sudden inspiration, " whether you are not Mr. Bellamy's 
 servant?" 
 
 "That is so, sir. Mr. Bellamy has sent me here to see 
 that no one has access to Mademoiselle Idiale." 
 
 "Then there is no harm whatever in taking in my card," 
 Laverick declared convincingly. "You can put that 
 note in your pocket. I am perfectly certain that Made- 
 moiselle Idiale will see me, and that your master would 
 wish her to do so."
 
 THE CONTEST FOR THE PAPERS 255 
 
 "I will take the risk, sir," the man decided, " but the 
 orders I have received were stringent." 
 
 He disappeared and was gone for several moments. 
 When he came back he was accompanied by a pale-faced 
 woman dressed in black, obviously a maid. 
 
 "Monsieur Laverick," she said, "Mademoiselle Idiaie 
 will receive you. If you will come this way?" 
 
 She opened the door of the little reception-room, and 
 Laverick followed her. The man returned to his place 
 in the hall. 
 
 "Madame will be here in a moment," the maid said. 
 "She will be glad to see you, but she has been very badly 
 frightened." 
 
 Laverick bowed sympathetically. The woman herself 
 was gray-faced, terror-stricken. 
 
 "It is Monsieur Lassen, the manager of Madame, who 
 has caused a great deal of trouble here," she said. 
 " Madame never trusted him and now we have discovered 
 that he is a spy." 
 
 The woman seemed to fade away. The door of the 
 inner room was opened and Louise came out. She was 
 still exceedingly pale, and there were dark rims under her 
 eyes. She came across the room with outstretched hands. 
 There was no doubt whatever as to her pleasure. 
 
 "You have seen Mr. Bellamy?" she asked. 
 
 Laverick shook his head. 
 
 "No, I have seen nothing of Bellamy to-day. I came 
 to call upon you this afternoon." 
 
 She wrung her hands. 
 
 "You understand, of course!" she exclaimed. "I did 
 not trust Lassen, but I never imagined anything like this. 
 He is an Austrian. Only a few hours ago I learned that 
 he is one of their most heavily paid spies. Streuss got
 
 256 HAVOC 
 
 hold of him. But there, I forgot you do not under- 
 stand this. It is enough that he laid a plot to get that 
 document from you. Where is it, Mr. Laverick? You 
 have brought it now?" 
 
 "Why, no," Laverick answered, "I have not." 
 
 Her eyes were round with terror. She held out her 
 hands as though to keep away some tormenting thought. 
 
 "Where is it?" she cried. "You have not parted with 
 it?" 
 
 "I have not," Laverick replied gravely. "It is in the 
 safe deposit of a hotel to which I have moved." 
 
 She closed her eyes and drew a long breath of relief. 
 
 " You are not well," Laverick said. " Let me help you 
 to a chair." 
 
 She sat down wearily. 
 
 "Why have you moved to a hotel ?" she asked. 
 
 "To tell you the truth," Laverick answered, "I seem 
 to have wandered into a sort of modern Arabian Nights. 
 Three times to-day attempts have been made to get that 
 document from me by force. I have been followed where- 
 ever I went. I felt that it was not safe in my chambers, so 
 I moved to a hotel and deposited it in their strong-room. 
 I have come to the conclusion that the best thing I can do 
 is to open it to-morrow morning, and decide for myself 
 as to its destination." 
 
 Louise sat quite still for several moments. Then she 
 opened her eyes. 
 
 "What you say is an immense relief to me, Mr. Lave- 
 rick," she declared. " I perceive now that we have made 
 a mistake. We should have told you the whole truth from 
 the first. This afternoon when Mr. Bellamy left me, it 
 was to come to you and tell you everything." 
 
 Laverick listened gravely.
 
 THE CONTEST FOR THE PAPERS 257 
 
 "Really," he said, "it seems to me the wisest course. 
 I have n't the least desire to keep the document. I can- 
 not think why Bellamy did not treat me with confidence 
 from the first " 
 
 He stopped short. Suddenly he understood. Some- 
 thing in Louise's face gave him the hint. 
 
 "Of course!" he murmured to himself. 
 
 "Mr. Laverick," Louise said quietly, "in this matter I 
 am no man's judge, yet, as you and I know well, that paper 
 could have come into your hands in one way, and one way 
 only. There may be some explanation. If so, it is for 
 you to offer it or not, as you think best. Mr. Bellamy and 
 I are allies in this matter. It is not our business to inter- 
 fere with the course of justice. You will run no risk in 
 parting with that paper." 
 
 "Where can I see Bellamy?" Laverick inquired, ris- 
 ing and taking up his hat. 
 
 "He would go straight to your rooms," she answered. 
 "Did you leave word there where you had gone?" 
 
 "Purposely I did not," Laverick replied. "I had 
 better try and find him, perhaps." 
 
 "It is not necessary," she announced. "No wonder 
 that you feel yourself to have wandered into the Arabian 
 Nights, Mr. Laverick. There are two sets of spies who 
 follow you everywhere two sets that I know of. There 
 may be another." 
 
 "You think that Bellamy will find me?" he asked. 
 
 "I am sure of it." 
 
 "Then I'll go back to the hotel and wait." 
 
 She hurried him away, but at the door she detained him 
 for a moment. 
 
 "Mr. Laverick," she said, looking at him earnestly, 
 "somehow or other I cannot help believing that you are 
 an honest man."
 
 258 HAVOC 
 
 Laverick sighed. He opened his lips but closed them 
 again. 
 
 "You are very kind, Mademoiselle," he declared 
 simply. 
 
 Laverick, as he entered the reception hall at the Milan 
 Hotel, noticed a man leaning over the cashier's desk talk- 
 ing confidentially to the clerk in charge. The latter recog- 
 nized Laverick with obvious relief, and at once directed 
 his questioner's attention to him. Kahn turned swiftly 
 around and without a moment's hesitation came smiling 
 towards Laverick with the apparent intention of accost- 
 ing him. He was correctly garbed, tall and fair, with 
 every appearance of being a man of breeding. He glanced 
 at Laverick carelessly as he passed, but, as though chang- 
 ing his original purpose, made no attempt to address him. 
 The. cashier, who had been watching, gave vent to a little 
 exclamation of surprise and sprang over the counter. He 
 approached Laverick hastily. 
 
 "Dp you know that gentleman just going out, sir?'* 
 he asked. 
 
 " I never saw him before in my life," Laverick answered. 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Is this your handwriting, sir?" the man inquired, 
 touching with his forefinger the half sheet of note-paper 
 which he had been carrying. 
 
 Laverick read quickly, 
 
 To the Cashier at the Milan Hotel, Deliver to bearer 
 document deposited with you. STEPHEN LAVERICK. 
 
 " It is not," he declared promptly. " It is an impudent 
 forgery. Good God ! You don't mean to say that you 
 parted with my property to "
 
 THE CONTEST FOR THE PAPERS 259 
 
 The cashier stopped his breathless question. 
 
 " I have n't parted with anything, sir," he said. " I 
 was just wondering what to do when you came in. I'd 
 no reason to believe that the signature was a forgery, but 
 I did n't like the look of it, somehow. We'd better be 
 after him. Come along, sir." 
 
 They hurried outside. The man was nowhere in sight. 
 The cashier summoned the head porter. 
 
 " A gentleman has just come out," he exclaimed, - 
 "tall and fair, very carefully dressed, with a single eye- 
 glass! Which way did he go?" 
 
 "He's just driven off in a big Daimler car, sir," the 
 porter answered. " I noticed him particularly. He spoke 
 to the chauffeur in Austrian." 
 
 Laverick looked out into the Strand. 
 
 "Can't we stop him?" he asked rapidly. 
 
 The porter smiled as he shook his head. 
 
 "Not the ghost of a chance, sir. He shot round the 
 corner there as though he were in a desperate hurry, and 
 went the wrong side of the island. I heard the police call- 
 ing to him. I hope there's nothing wrong, Mr. Dean?" 
 
 The cashier hesitated and glanced at Laverick. 
 
 "Nothing much," Laverick answered. "We should 
 have liked to have asked him a question that is all." 
 
 Bellamy came out from the hotel and paused to light 
 a cigarette. 
 
 "How are you, Laverick?" he said quietly. "Nothing 
 the matter, I hope?" 
 
 "Nothing worth mentioning," Laverick replied. 
 
 The cashier returned to his duties. The two men were 
 alone. Bellamy, most carefully dressed, with his silver- 
 headed cane under his arm, and his silk hat at precisely 
 the correct angle, seemed very far removed from the world
 
 260 HAVOC 
 
 of intrigue into which Laverick felt himself to have 
 blundered. He looked down for a moment at the tips of 
 his patent shoes and up again at the sky, as though anxious 
 about the weather. 
 
 "What about a drink, Laverick?" he asked non- 
 chalantly. 
 
 "Delighted!" Laverick assented.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 MISS LENEVEU'S MESSAGE 
 
 THE two men stepped back into the hotel. The cashier 
 had returned to his desk, and the incident which had 
 just transpired seemed to have passed unnoticed. Never- 
 theless, Laverick felt that the studied indifference of his 
 companion's manner had its significance, and he endeav- 
 ored to imitate it. 
 
 "Shall we go through into the bar?" he asked. 
 "There's very seldom any one there at this time." 
 
 "Anywhere you say," Bellamy answered. "It's years 
 since we had a drink together." 
 
 They passed into the inner room and, finding it empty, 
 drew two chairs into the further corner. Bellamy sum- 
 moned the waiter. 
 
 "Two whiskies and sodas quick, Tim," he ordered. 
 "Now, Laverick, listen to me," he added, as the waiter 
 turned away. "We are alone for the moment but it won't 
 be for long. You know very well that it was n't to renew 
 our schoolboy acquaintance that I've asked you to come 
 in here with me." 
 
 Laverick drew a little breath. 
 
 " Please go on," he said. " I am as anxious as you can 
 be to grasp this affair properly." 
 
 "When we left school," Bellamy remarked, "you were 
 destined for the Stock Exchange. I went first to Magdalen. 
 Did vou ever hear what became of me afterwards?"
 
 262 HAVOC 
 
 "I always understood," Laverick answered, "that you 
 went into one of the Government offices." 
 
 "Quite right," Bellamy assented. "I did. At this 
 moment I have the honor to serve His Majesty." 
 
 "Two thousand a year and two hours work a day." 
 Laverick laughed. "I know the sort of thing." 
 
 "You evidently don't," Bellamy answered. "I often 
 work twenty hours a day, I don't get half two thousand a 
 year, and most of the time I carry my life in my hands. 
 When I am working and I am working now I am 
 never sure of the morrow." 
 
 Laverick looked at him incredulously. 
 
 "You're not joking, Bellamy?" he asked. 
 
 "Not by any manner of means. I have the honor to 
 be a humble member of His Majesty's Secret Service." 
 
 Laverick glanced at his companion wonderingly. 
 
 " I really did n't know," he said, " that such a service 
 had any actual existence except in novels." 
 
 "I am a proof to the contrary," Bellamy declared 
 grimly. "Abroad, I run always the risk of being dubbed 
 a spy and treated like one. At home, I am simply the 
 head of the A2 Branch of the Secret Service. Here come 
 our drinks." 
 
 Laverick raised his whiskey and soda to his lips 
 mechanically. 
 
 " Here's luck !" he exclaimed. " Now go on, Bellamy," 
 he continued. "The waiter can't overhear." 
 
 Bellamy smiled. 
 
 "Tim is one of the few persons in the place," he said, 
 "whom one can trust. As a matter of fact, he has been 
 very useful to me more than once. Now listen to me 
 attentively, Laverick. I am going to speak to you as one 
 man to another."
 
 MISS LENEVEU'S MESSAGE 263 
 
 Laverick nodded. 
 
 "I am ready," he said. 
 
 " Last Monday," Bellamy went on, leaning forward and 
 speaking in a soft but very distinct undertone, "a man 
 was murdered late at night in the heart of the city 
 within one hundred yards of the Stock Exchange. The 
 papers called it a mysterious murder. No one knows 
 who the man was, or who committed the crime, or why. 
 You and I, Laverick, both know a little more than the 
 rest of the world." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "The murder," Bellamy continued, with a strange 
 light in his eyes, "was accomplished only a stone's throw 
 from your office." 
 
 Laverick lit a cigarette and threw the match away. 
 
 " Horrible affair it was," he remarked. 
 
 Bellamy glanced toward the door, a man had looked 
 in and departed. 
 
 "Enough of this fencing, Laverick," he said. "A theft 
 was committed from the person of that murdered man, 
 of which the general public knows nothing. A pocket- 
 book was stolen from him containing twenty thousand 
 pounds and a sealed document. As to who murdered 
 the man, I want you to understand that that is not my 
 affair. As to what has become of that twenty thousand 
 pounds, I have not the slightest curiosity. I want the 
 document." 
 
 "What claim have you to it?" Laverick asked quickly. 
 
 " I might retort, but I will not," Bellamy replied. " Time 
 is too short. I will answer you by explaining who the man 
 was and what that document consists of. The man's 
 name was Von Behrling, and he was a trusted agent of 
 the Austrian Secret Service. The document of which he
 
 264 HAVOC 
 
 was robbed contains a verbatim report of the conference 
 which recently took place at Vienna between the Emperor 
 of Germany, the Emperor of Austria, and the Czar of 
 Russia. It contains the details of a plot against this 
 country and the undertakings entered into by those seve- 
 ral Powers. I want that document, Laverick. Have I 
 established my claim?" 
 
 "You have," Laverick answered. "Why on earth 
 did n't you come to me before ? Don't you believe that 
 I should have listened to you as readily as to Mademoiselle 
 Idiale?" 
 
 "I wish that I had come," Bellamy admitted, "and yet, 
 here is the truth, Laverick, because the truth is best. 
 Twenty-two years lie between us and the time when we 
 knew anything of one another. To me, therefore, you are 
 a stranger. I had my spies following Von Behrling that 
 night. I know that you took the pocket-book from his 
 dead body. If you did not murder him yourself, the deed 
 was done by an accomplice of yours. How was I to trust 
 you ? We are speaking naked words, my friend. We are 
 dealing with naked truths. To me you were a murderer 
 and a thief. A word from me and you would have realized 
 the value of that document. I tell you frankly that 
 Austria would give you almost any sum for it to-day." 
 
 Laverick, strong man though he was, was conscious of 
 a sudden weakness. He raised his hand to his forehead 
 and drew it away wet. He struggled desperately for 
 self-control. 
 
 "Bellamy," he said, "here's truth for truth. I am not 
 on my trial before you. Believe me, man, for God's 
 sake!" 
 
 "I'll try," Bellamy promised. " Go on." 
 
 "That night I stayed at my office late because I saw
 
 MISS LENEVEU'S MESSAGE 265 
 
 ruin before me on the morrow. I left it meaning to go 
 straight home. I lit a cigarette near that entry, and by 
 the light of a match, as I was throwing it away, I saw the 
 murdered man. I think for a time I was paralyzed. The 
 pocket-book was half dragged out from his pocket. Why 
 I looked inside it I don't know. I had some sort of wild 
 idea that I must find out who he was. Mind you, though, 
 I should have given the alarm at once, but there was n't a 
 soul in the street. There was a man lurking in the entry 
 and I chased him, unsuccessfully. When I came back, 
 the body was still there and the street empty. I looked 
 inside that pocket-book, which would have been in the 
 possession of his murderer but for my unexpected appear- 
 ance. I saw the notes there. Once more I went out into 
 the street. I gave no alarm, I am not attempting to 
 explain why. I was like a man made suddenly mad. I 
 went back to my office and shut myself in." 
 
 Bellamy pointed to the glasses silently. The waiter 
 came forward and refilled them. 
 
 "Bellamy," Laverick continued, "your career and 
 mine lie far apart, and yet, at their backbone, as there is 
 at the backbone of every man's life, there must be some- 
 thing of the same sort of ambition. My grandfather lived 
 and died a member of the Stock Exchange, honored and 
 well thought of. My father followed in his footsteps. I, 
 too, was there. Without becoming wealthy, the name I 
 bear has become known and respected. Failure, what- 
 ever one may say, means a broken life and a broken 
 honor. I sat in my office and I knew that the use of those 
 notes for a few days might save me from disgrace, might 
 keep the name, which my father and grandfather had 
 guarded so jealously, free from shame. I would have 
 paid any price for the use of them. I would have paid
 
 266 HAVOC 
 
 with my life, if that had been possible. Think of the risk 
 I ran the danger I am now in. I deposited those notes 
 on the morrow as security at my bank, and I met all my 
 engagements. The crisis is over! Those notes are in a 
 safe deposit vault in Chancery Lane ! I only wish to 
 Heaven that I could find the owner!" 
 
 "And the document?" Bellamy asked. "The docu- 
 ment?" 
 
 "It is in the hotel safe," Laverick answered. 
 
 Bellamy drew a long sigh of relief. Then he emptied 
 his tumbler and lit a cigarette. 
 
 "Laverick," he declared, "I believe you." 
 
 "Thank God!" Laverick muttered. 
 
 " I am no crime investigator," Bellamy went on thought- 
 fully. "As to who killed Von Behrling, or why, I can- 
 not now form the slightest idea. That twenty thousand 
 pounds, Laverick, is Secret Service money, paid by me 
 to Von Behrling only half-an-hour before he was mur- 
 dered, in a small restaurant there, for what I supposed to 
 be the document. He deceived me by making up a false 
 packet. The real one he kept. He deserved to die, and 
 I am glad he is dead." 
 
 Laverick's face was suddenly hopeful. 
 
 "Then you can take these notes !" he exclaimed. 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "In a few days," he said, "I shall take you with me to 
 a friend of mine a Cabinet Minister. You shall tell 
 him the story exactly as you've told it to me, and restore 
 the money." 
 
 Laverick laughed like a child. 
 
 "Don't think I'm mad," he apologized, "but I am not 
 a person like you, Bellamy, used to adventures and 
 this sort of wild happenings. I'm a steady-going, matter-
 
 MISS LENEVEU'S MESSAGE 267 
 
 of-fact Englishman, and this thing has been like a hateful 
 nightmare to me. I can't believe that I'm going to get 
 rid of it." 
 
 Bellamy smiled. 
 
 "It's a great adventure," he declared, "to come to any 
 one like you. To tell you the truth, I can't imagine how 
 you had the pluck don't misunderstand me, I mean 
 the moral pluck to run such a risk. Why, at the mo- 
 ment you used those notes," Bellamy continued, "the 
 odds must have been about twenty to one against your 
 not being found out." 
 
 " One does n't stop to count the odds," Laverick said 
 grimly. "I saw a chance of salvation and I went for it. 
 And now about this letter." 
 
 Bellamy rose to his feet. 
 
 "On the King's service!" he whispered softly. 
 
 They walked once more to the cashier's desk. A stranger 
 greeted them. Laverick produced his receipt. 
 
 "I should like the packet I deposited here this even- 
 ing," he said. " I am sorry to trouble you, but I find that 
 I require it unexpectedly." 
 
 The clerk glanced at the receipt and up at the clock. 
 
 "I am afraid, sir," he answered, "that we cannot get 
 at it before the morning." 
 
 "Why not?" Laverick demanded, frowning. 
 
 "Mr. Dean has just gone home," the man declared, 
 "and he is the only one who knows the combination on 
 the 'L' safe. You see, sir," he continued, "we keep this 
 particular safe for documents, and we did not expect that 
 anything would be required from it to-night." 
 
 Bellamy drew Laverick away. 
 
 "After all," he said, "perhaps to-morrow morning 
 would be better. There's no need to get shirty with these
 
 268 HAVOC 
 
 fellows. As a matter of fact, I don't think that I should 
 have dared to receive it without making some special 
 preparations. I can get some plain clothes men here upon 
 whom I can rely, at nine o'clock." 
 
 They strolled back into the hall. 
 
 "Tell me," Laverick asked, "do you know who the man 
 was who forged my name to the order a few hours ago ? " 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "It was Adolf Kahn, an Austrian spy. I have been 
 watching him for days. If they'd given him the paper I 
 had four men at the door, but it would have been touch 
 and go. He is a very prince of conspirators, that fellow. 
 To tell you the truth, I think I might as well go home." 
 
 Bellamy was drawing on his gloves when the hall-porter 
 brought a note to Laverick. 
 
 "A messenger has just left this for you, sir," he ex- 
 plained. 
 
 Laverick tore open the envelope. The contents con- 
 sisted of a few words only, written on plain note-paper and 
 in a handwriting which was strange to him. 
 
 "Ring up 1232 Gerrard." 
 
 Laverick frowned, turned over the half sheet of paper 
 and looked once more at the envelope. Then he passed 
 it on to his companion. 
 
 " What do you make of that, Bellamy ? " he asked. 
 
 Bellamy smiled as he perused and returned it. 
 
 "What could any one make of it?" he remarked, 
 laconically. "Do you know the handwriting?" 
 
 "Never saw it before, to my knowledge," Laverick 
 answered. "What should you do about it?" 
 
 " I think," Bellamy suggested, *' that I should ring up 
 number 1232 Gerrard."
 
 MISS LENEVEU'S MESSAGE 269 
 
 They crossed the hall and Laverick entered one of the 
 telephone booths. 
 
 " 1232 Gerrard," he said. 
 
 The connection was made almost at once. 
 
 "Who are you?" Laverick asked. 
 
 "I am speaking for Miss Zoe Leneveu," was the reply. 
 ''Are you Mr. Laverick?" 
 
 " I am," Laverick answered. " Is Miss Leneveu there ? 
 Can she speak to me herself?" 
 
 "She is not here," the voice continued. "She was 
 fetched away in a hurry from the theatre we under- 
 stood by her brother. She left two and sixpence with the 
 doorkeeper here to ring you up and explain that she had 
 been summoned to her brother's rooms, 25, Jermyn Street, 
 and would you kindly go on there." 
 
 "Who are you?" Laverick demanded. 
 
 There was no reply. Laverick remained speechless, 
 listening intently. He stood still with the receiver pressed 
 to his ear. Was it his fancy, or was that really Zoe's pro- 
 testing voice which he heard in the background ? It was 
 a woman or a child who was speaking he was almost 
 sure that it was Zoe. 
 
 "Who are you?" he asked fiercely. "Miss Leneveu 
 is there with you. Why does she not speak for herself?" 
 
 " Miss Leneveu is not here," was the answer. " I have 
 done what she desired. You can please yourself whether 
 you go or not. The address is 25, Jermyn Street. Ring 
 off." 
 
 The connection was gone. Laverick laid down the 
 receiver and stepped out of the booth. 
 
 "I must be off at once," he said to Bellamy. "You'll 
 be round in the morning?" 
 
 Bellamy smiled.
 
 270 HAVOC 
 
 "After all," he remarked, "I have changed my plans. 
 I shall not leave the hotel. I am going to telephone round 
 to my man to bring me some clothes. By the bye, do you 
 mind telling me whether this message which you have 
 just received had anything to do with the little affair in 
 which we are interested?" 
 
 "Not directly," Laverick answered, after a moment's 
 hesitation. " The message was from a young lady. I have 
 to go and meet her." 
 
 " A young lady whom you can trust ? " Bellamy inquired 
 quietly. 
 
 "Implicitly," Laverick assured him. 
 
 "She spoke herself?" 
 
 "No, she sent a message. Excuse me, Bellamy, won't 
 you, but I must really go." 
 
 "By all means," Bellamy answered. 
 
 They stood at the entrance to the hotel together while 
 a taxicab was summoned. Laverick stepped quickly in. 
 
 "25, Jermyn Street," he ordered. 
 
 Bellamy watched him drive off. Then he sighed. 
 
 "I think, my friend Laverick," he said softly, "that 
 you will need some one to look after you to-night."
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 MORRISON IS DESPERATE 
 
 CERTAINLY it was a strange little gathering that waited 
 in Morrison's room for the coming of Laverick. There 
 was Lassen flushed, ugly, breathing heavily, and 
 watching the door with fixed, beady eyes. There was 
 Adolf Ivahn, the man who had strolled out from the Milan 
 Hotel as Laverick had entered it, leaving the forged order 
 behind him. There was Streuss stern, and desperate 
 w r ith anxiety. There was Morrison himself, in the clothes 
 of a workman, worn to a shadow, with the furtive gleam of 
 terrified guilt shining in his sunken eyes, and the slouched 
 shoulders and broken mien of the habitual criminal. There 
 was Zoe, around whom they were all standing, with anger 
 burning in her cheeks and gleaming out of her passion- 
 filled eyes. She, too, like the others, watched the door. 
 So they waited. 
 
 Streuss, not for the first time, moved to the window 
 and drawing aside the curtains looked down into the 
 street. 
 
 "Will he come this Englishman?" he muttered. 
 "Has he courage?" 
 
 "More courage than you who keep a girl here against 
 her will !" Zoe panted, looking at him defiantly. "More 
 courage than my poor brother, who stands there like a 
 coward !" 
 
 "Shut up, Zoe !" Morrison exclaimed harshly. "There
 
 272 HAVOC 
 
 is nothing for you to be furious about or frightened. No 
 one wants to ill-treat you. These gentlemen all want to 
 behave kindly to us. It is Laverick they want." 
 
 "And you," she cried, "are content to stand by and 
 let him walk into a trap you let them even use my 
 name to bring him here ! Arthur, be a man ! Have noth- 
 ing more to do with them. Help me to get away from 
 this place. Call out. Do something instead of standing 
 there and wasting the precious minutes." 
 
 He came towards her ugly and threatening. 
 
 "I'll do something in a minute," he declared savagely, 
 " something you won't like, either. Keep your mouth 
 shut, I tell you. It's me or him, and, by Heavens, he 
 deserves what he '11 get ! " 
 
 Streuss turned away from the window and looked 
 towards Zoe. 
 
 " Young lady," he said quietly, " let me beg you not to 
 distress yourself so. I sincerely trust that nothing un- 
 pleasant will happen. If it does, I promise you that we 
 will arrange for your temporary absence. You shall not 
 be disturbed in any way." 
 
 "And as regards your brother, have a care, young 
 lady," Lassen growled. "If any one's in danger, it's he. 
 He'll be lucky if he saves his own skin." 
 
 The young man glowered at her. 
 
 "You hear that, you little fool !" he muttered. "Keep 
 still, can't you?" 
 
 Her face was full of defiance. He came nearer to her 
 and changed his tone. 
 
 "Zoe," he whispered hoarsely, "don't you under- 
 stand ? If they can't get what they want from Laverick, 
 they'll visit it upon me. They're desperate, I tell you. 
 Thev mean mischief all the time."
 
 MORRISON IS DESPERATE 273 
 
 "Yet you let him be brought here, your partner who 
 looked after you when you were ill, and who helped you 
 to get away !" she cried indignantly. 
 
 He laughed unpleasantly. 
 
 "When it comes to a matter of life or death, it's every 
 man for himself. Besides, if I'd known as much about 
 Laverick as I know now, I'm not sure that I should have 
 been so ready to go not empty-handed, by any manner 
 of means." 
 
 "What have you done that you should be so much in 
 the power of these people?" she demanded, fixing her 
 dark eyes upon him searchingly. 
 
 The terror whitened his face once more. The per- 
 spiration stood out in beads upon his forehead. 
 
 " Don't dare to ask me questions ! " he exclaimed 
 nervously. " I should like to know what Laverick is to 
 you, eh, that you take so much interest in him? Listen 
 here, my fine young lady. If I've been mug enough to 
 do the dirty work, he has n't made any bones about tak- 
 ing advantage of it. He's a nice sort of sportsman, I 
 can tell you." 
 
 The man at the window suddenly dropped the curtain 
 and spoke across the room to them all. 
 
 " He is here," he announced. 
 
 "Alone?" Lassen asked thickly. 
 
 "Alone," Streuss echoed. 
 
 A little thrill seemed to pass through the room. Zoe 
 made no attempt to cry out. Instead she leaned forward 
 towards the door, as thougli listening. Her attitude 
 seemed harmless enough. No one took any more notice 
 of her. They all watched the entrance to the apartment. 
 Zoe remembered the two flights of stairs. She was ab- 
 sorbed in a breathless calculation. Now now he should
 
 274 HAVOC 
 
 be coming quite close. Her whole being was concen- 
 trated upon one effort of listening. At last she raised her 
 head. The room resounded with her cries. 
 
 " Don't come in ! Don't come in here !" she shrieked. 
 " Mr. Laverick, do you hear ? Go away ! Don't come in 
 here alone !" 
 
 Her brother was the first to reach her, his hand fell 
 upon her mouth brutally. Her little effort was naturally 
 a failure defeating, in fact, its own object. Laverick, 
 hearing her cries, simply hastened his coming, threw 
 open the door without waiting to knock, and stepped 
 quickly across the threshold. He saw a man dressed in 
 shabby workman's clothes, unshaven, dishevelled, hold- 
 ing Zoe in a rough grasp, and with a single well-directed 
 blow he sent him reeling across the room. Then some- 
 thing in the man's cry, a momentary glimpse of his white 
 face, revealed his identity. 
 
 " Morrison !" he cried. " Good God, it's Morrison !" 
 
 Arthur Morrison was crouching in a corner of the room, 
 his evil face turned upon his aggressor. Laverick took 
 quick stock of his surroundings. There was the tall, fair 
 young man Adolf Kahn whom he had seen at the 
 Milan a few hours ago the man who had unsuccess- 
 fully forged his name. There was Lassen, the man who, 
 under pretence of being her manager, had been a spy 
 upon Louise. There was Streuss, with blanched face 
 and hard features, standing with his back to the door. 
 There was Zoe, and, behind, her brother. She held out 
 her hands timidly towards him, and her eyes were soft 
 with pleading. 
 
 "I did not want you to come here, Mr. Laverick^" she 
 cried softly. "I tried so hard to stop you. It was not I 
 who sent that message."
 
 MORRISON IS DESPERATE 275 
 
 He took her cold little fingers and raised them to his 
 lips. 
 
 " I know it, dear," he murmured. 
 
 Then a movement in the room warned him, and he 
 was suddenly on guard. Lassen was close to his side, 
 some evil purpose plainly enough written in his pasty 
 face and unwholesome eyes. Laverick gave him his left 
 shoulder and sent him staggering across the floor. He 
 was angry at having been outwitted and his eyes gleamed 
 ominously. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," he exclaimed, "you seem to have 
 taken unusual pains to secure my presence here ! Tell 
 me now, what can I do for you?" 
 
 It was Streuss who became spokesman. He addressed 
 Laverick with the consideration of one gentleman ad- 
 dressing another. His voice had many agreeable quali- 
 ties. His demeanor was entirely amicable. 
 
 "Mr. Laverick," he answered, "let us first apologize 
 if we used a little subterfuge to procure for us the pleasure 
 of your visit. We are men who are in earnest, and across 
 whose path you have either wilfully or accidentally strayed. 
 An understanding between us has become a necessity." 
 
 " Go on," Laverick interrupted. " Tell me exactly who 
 you are and what you want." 
 
 "As to who we are," Streuss answered, "does that 
 really matter? I repeat that we are men who are in 
 earnest let that be enough. As to what we want, it 
 is a certain document to which we have every claim, and 
 which has come into your possession I flatter you 
 somewhat, Mr. Laverick, if I say by chance." 
 
 Laverick shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Let that go," he said. "I know all about the docu- 
 ment vou refer to, and the notes. They were contained
 
 276 HAVOC 
 
 in a pocket-book which it is perfectly true has come into 
 my possession. Prove your claim to both and you shall 
 have them." 
 
 Streuss smiled. 
 
 "You will admit that our claim, since we know of its 
 existence," he asked suavely, "is equal to yours?" 
 
 "Certainly," Laverick answered, "but then I never 
 had any idea of keeping either the document or the 
 money. That your claim is better than mine is no guar- 
 antee that there is not some one else whose title is better 
 still." 
 
 Streuss frowned. 
 
 "Be reasonable, Mr. Laverick," he begged. "We are 
 men of peace when peace is possible. The money 
 of which you spoke you can consider as treasure trove, 
 if you will, but it is our intention to possess ourselves of 
 the document. It is for that reason that we are here in 
 London. I, personally, am committed to the extent of 
 my life and my honor to its recovery." 
 
 A declaration of war, courteously veiled but decisive. 
 Laverick looked around him a little defiantly, and shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 "You know very well that I do not carry it about with 
 me," he said. "The gentleman on my left," he added, 
 pointing to Kahn, "can tell you where it is kept." 
 
 " Quite so," Streuss admitted. " We are not doing you 
 the injustice to suppose that you would be so foolhardy 
 as to trust yourself anywhere with that document upon 
 your person. It is in the safe at the Milan Hotel. I may 
 add that probably, if it had not occurred to you to change 
 your quarters, it would have been in our possession be- 
 fore now. We are hoping to persuade you to return to 
 the hotel with one of our friends here, and procure it."
 
 MORRISON IS DESPERATE 277 
 
 "As it happens," Laverick remarked, "that is impossi- 
 ble. The man who set the combination for that particular 
 safe has gone off duty, and will not be back again at the 
 hotel till to-morrow morning." 
 
 "But he is to be found," Streuss answered easily. 
 "His present whereabouts and his address are known to 
 us. He lives with his family at Harvard Court, Hamp- 
 stead. We shall assist you in making it worth his while 
 to return to the hotel or to give you the combination word 
 for the safe." 
 
 " You are rather great on detail !" Laverick exclaimed. 
 
 "It is our business. The question for you to decide, 
 and to decide immediately, is whether you are ready to 
 end this, in some respects, constrained situation, and 
 give your word to place that document in our hands." 
 
 "You are ready to accept my word, then?" Laverick 
 asked. 
 
 "We have a certain hold upon you," Streuss continued 
 slowly. "Your partner Mr. Morrison's position in con- 
 nection with the murder in Crooked Friars' Alley is, as 
 you may have surmised, a somewhat unfortunate one. 
 Your own I will not allude to. I will simply suggest that 
 for both your sakes publicity any measure of pub- 
 licity, in fact, as regards this little affair would not be 
 desirable." 
 
 Laverick hesitated. He understood all that was im- 
 plied. Morrison's eyes were fixed upon him the eyes 
 of a craven coward. He felt the intensity of the moment. 
 Then Zoe turned suddenly towards him. 
 
 "You are not to give it up !" she cried, with trembling 
 lips. "They cannot hurt you, and it is not true about 
 Arthur." 
 
 Kahn, who was nearest, clapped his hand over her
 
 278 HAVOC 
 
 mouth and Laverick knocked him down. Instantly the 
 pacific atmosphere of the room was changed. Lassen 
 and Morrison closed swiftly upon Laverick from different 
 sides. Streuss covered him with the shining barrel of a 
 revolver. 
 
 " Mr. Laverick," he said, " we are not here to be trifled 
 with. Keep your sister quiet, Morrison, or, by God, 
 you'll swing!" 
 
 Laverick looked at the revolver fascinated, for an 
 instant, by its unexpected appearance. The face of the 
 man who held it had changed. There was lightning play- 
 ing about the room. 
 
 " It 's the dock for you both ! " Streuss exclaimed 
 fiercely, "for you, Laverick, and you, Morrison, too, 
 if you play with us any longer ! One of you 's a mur- 
 derer and the other receives the booty. Who are you 
 to have scruples criminals, both of you ? Your place is 
 in the dock, and you shall be there within twenty-four 
 hours if there are any more evasions. Now, Laverick, 
 will you fetch that document? It is your last chance." 
 
 Upon the breathless silence that followed a quiet voice 
 intervened a voice calm and emotionless, tinged with 
 a measure of polite inquiry. Yet its level utterance fell 
 like a bomb among the little company. The curtain 
 separating this from the inner room had been drawn a 
 few feet back, and Bellamy was standing there, in black 
 overcoat and white muffler, his silk hat on the back of 
 his head, his left hand, carefully gloved, resting still upon 
 the curtain which he had drawn aside. 
 
 "I hope I am not disturbing you at all?" he mur- 
 mured softly. 
 
 For a moment the development of the situation re- 
 mained uncertain. The gleaming barrel of Streuss's
 
 MORRISON IS DESPERATE 279 
 
 revolver changed its destination. Bellamy glanced at it 
 with the pleased curiosity of a child. 
 
 "I really ought not to have intruded," he continued 
 amiably. "I happened to hear the address my friend 
 Laverick gave to the taxicab driver, and I was particu- 
 larly anxious to have a word or two with him before I left 
 for the Continent." 
 
 Streuss was surely something of a charlatan ! His 
 revolver had disappeared. The smile upon his lips was 
 both gracious and unembarrassed. 
 
 " One is always only too pleased to welcome Mr. Bellamy 
 anywhere anyhow," he declared. "If apologies are 
 needed at all," he continued, " it is to our friend and host 
 Mr. Morrison here. Permit me Mr. Arthur Morri- 
 son the Honorable David Bellamy ! These are Mr. 
 Morrison's rooms." 
 
 Morrison could do no more than stare. Bellamy, on 
 the contrary, with a little bow came further into the apart- 
 ment, removing his hat from his head. Lassen glided 
 round behind him, remaining between Bellamy and the 
 heavy curtains. Adolf Kahn moved as though uncon- 
 sciously in front of the door of the room in which they 
 were. 
 
 Bellamy smiled courteously. 
 
 " I am afraid," he said, " that I must not stay for more 
 than a moment. I have a car full of friends below we 
 are on our way, in fact, to the Covent Garden Ball and 
 one or two of them, I fear," he added indulgently, "have 
 already reached that stage of exhilaration which such an 
 entertainment in England seems to demand. They will 
 certainly come and rout me out if I am here much longer. 
 There!" he exclaimed, "you hear that?" 
 
 There was the sound of a motor horn from the street
 
 2 8o HAVOC 
 
 below. Streuss, with an oath trembling upon his lips, 
 lifted the blind. There were two motor-cars waiting 
 there large cars with Limousine bodies, and apparently 
 full of men. After all, it was to be expected. Bellamy 
 was no fool ! 
 
 "Since we are to lose you, then Mr. Laverick," Streuss 
 remarked with a gesture of farewell, "let us say good 
 night. The little matter of business which we were dis- 
 cussing can be concluded with your partner." 
 
 Laverick turned toward Zoe. Their eyes met and he 
 read their message of terror. 
 
 "You are coming back to your own rooms, Miss 
 Leneveu," he said. "You must let me offer you my 
 escort." 
 
 She half rose, but in obedience to a gesture from Streuss 
 Morrison moved near to them. 
 
 " If you leave me here, Laverick," he muttered beneath 
 his breath, " if you leave me to these hounds, do you 
 know what they will do ? They will hand me over to the 
 police they have sworn it ! " 
 
 " Why did you come, back ? " Laverick asked quickly. 
 
 "They stopped me*as I was boarding the steamer," 
 Morrison declared. "I tell you they have eyes every- 
 where. You cannot move without their knowledge. I 
 had to come. Now that I am here they have told me 
 plainly the price of my freedom. It is that document. 
 Laverick, it is my life ! You must give in you must, 
 indeed ! Remember you're in it, too." 
 
 "Am I?" Laverick asked quietly. 
 
 "You fool, of course you are!" Morrison whispered 
 hoarsely. " Did n't you come into the entry and take the 
 pocket-book ? Heaven knows what possessed you to do it ! 
 Heaven knows how you found the pluck to use the money !
 
 MORRISON IS DESPERATE 281 
 
 But you did it, and you are a criminal a criminal as I 
 am. Don't be a fool, Laverick. Make terms with these 
 people. They want the document the document 
 nothing but the document ! They will let us keep the 
 money." 
 
 "And you?" Laverick asked, turning suddenly to Zoe. 
 "What do you say about all this?" 
 
 She looked at him fearlessly. 
 
 "I trust you," she said. "I trust you to do what is 
 right."
 
 CHAPTER XXXm 
 
 LAVEBICK'S ARREST 
 
 "AT last, David!" 
 
 Louise welcomed her visitor eagerly with outstretched 
 hands, which Bellamy raised for a moment to his lips. 
 Then she turned toward the third person, who had also 
 risen at the opening of the door a short, somewhat 
 thick-set man, with swarthy complexion, close-cropped 
 black hair, and upturned black moustache. 
 
 "You remember Prince Rosmaran?" she said to Bel- 
 lamy. " He left Servia only the day before yesterday. He 
 has come to England on a special mission to the King." 
 
 Bellamy shook hands. 
 
 "I think," he remarked, "I had the honor of meeting 
 you once before, Prince, at the opening of the Servian 
 Parliament two years ago. It was just then, I believe, 
 that you were elected to lead the patriotic party." 
 
 The Prince bowed sadly. 
 
 "My leadership, I fear," he declared, "has brought 
 little good to my unhappy country." 
 
 "It is a terrible crisis through which your nation is 
 passing," Bel'amy reminded him sympathetically. "At 
 the same time, we must not despair. Austria holds out 
 her clenched hands, but as yet she has not dared to 
 strike." 
 
 The face of the Prince was dark with passion. 
 
 "As yet, no!" he answered. "But how long how 
 long, I wonder before the blow falls ? We in Servia
 
 LAVERICK'S ARREST 283 
 
 have been blamed for arming ourselves, but I tell you 
 that to-day the Austrian troops are being secretly concen- 
 trated on the frontier. Their arsenals are working night 
 and day. Her soldiers are maneuvering almost within 
 sight of Belgrade. We have hoped against hope, yet in 
 our hearts we know that our fate was sealed when the 
 Czar of Russia left Vienna last week." 
 
 "Nothing is certain," Bellamy declared restlessly. 
 "England has been ill-governed for a great many years, 
 but we are not yet a negligible Power." 
 
 Louise leaned a little towards him. 
 
 "David," she whispered, "the compact!" 
 
 He answered her unspoken question. 
 
 " It is arranged," he said, " finished. To-morrow 
 morning at nine o'clock I receive it." 
 
 "You are sure?" she begged. "Why need there be any 
 delay?" 
 
 "It is locked up in a powerful safe," he explained, "and 
 the clerk who has the combination will not be on duty 
 again till nine. Laverick is there simply waiting for the 
 hour. You were right, Louise, as usual. I should have 
 trusted him from the first." 
 
 The Prince had been listening to their conversation 
 with undisguised interest. 
 
 "There is a rumor," he said, "that some secret informa- 
 tion concerning the compact of Vienna has found its 
 way to this country." 
 
 Bellamy smiled. 
 
 "Hence, I presume, your mission, Prince." 
 
 "We three have no secrets from one another," the 
 Prince declared. " Our interests in this matter are abso- 
 lutely identical. What you suggest, Mr. Bellamy, is the 
 truth. There is a rumor that the Chancellor, in the first
 
 284 HAVOC 
 
 few moments of his illness, gave valuable information to 
 some one who is likely to have communicated it to the 
 Government here. To be forewarned is to be forearmed. 
 That, I know, is one of your own mottoes. So I am here 
 to know if there is anything to be learned." 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "Your arrival is not inopportune, Prince. When did 
 you come?" 
 
 "I reached Charing Cross at midnight," the Prince 
 answered. "Our train was an hour late. I am present- 
 ing my credentials early this morning, and I am hoping 
 for an interview during the afternoon." 
 
 Bellamy considered for a moment. 
 
 "It is true!" he said. "Between us three there is 
 indeed no need for secrecy. The information you speak 
 of will be in our hands within a few hours. I have no 
 doubt whatever but that your Minister will share in it." 
 
 "You know of what it consists?" the Prince inquired 
 curiously. 
 
 "I think so," Bellamy answered, glancing at the clock. 
 "For my own part, although the information itself is in- 
 valuable, I see another and a profounder source of inter- 
 est in that document. If, indeed, it is what we believe it 
 to be, it amounts to a casus belli." 
 
 "You mean that you would provoke war?" Prince 
 Rosmaran asked. 
 
 Bellamy shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "I," said he, "I am not even a politician. But, you 
 know, the lookers-on see a good deal of the game, and in 
 my opinion there is only one course open for this country, 
 to work upon Russia so that she withdraws from any 
 compact she may have entered into with Austria and 
 Germany, to accept Germany's co-operation with Austria
 
 LAVERICK'S ARREST 285 
 
 in the despoilment of your country as a casus belli, and to 
 declare war at once while our fleet is invincible and our 
 Colonies free from danger." 
 
 The Prince nodded. 
 
 " It is good," he admitted, " to hear man's talk once 
 more. Wherever one moves, people bow the head before 
 the might of Germany and Austria. Let them alone but 
 a little longer, and they will indeed rule Europe." 
 
 Three o'clock struck. The Prince rose. 
 
 "I go," he announced. 
 
 "And I," Bellamy declared. "Come to my rooms at 
 ten o'clock to-morrow morning, Prince, and you shall 
 hear the news." 
 
 Bellamy lingered behind. For a monient he held Louise 
 in his arms and gazed sorrowfully into her weary face. 
 
 "Is it worth while, I wonder?" he asked bitterly. 
 
 "Worth while," she answered, opening her eyes and 
 looking at him, "to feel the mother love? Who can help 
 it who would not be ignoble?" 
 
 "But yours, dear," he murmured, "is all grief. Even 
 now I am afraid." 
 
 "We can do no more than toil to the end," she said. 
 "David, you are sure this time?" 
 
 "I am sure," he replied. "I am going back now to the 
 hotel where Laverick is staying. We are going to sit 
 together and smoke until the morning. Nothing short 
 of an army could storm the hotel. I was with them all 
 only an hour ago, Streuss, that blackguard Lassen, and 
 Adolf Kahn, the police spy. They are beaten men and 
 they know it. They had Laverick, had him by a trick, 
 but I made a dramatic entrance and the game was 
 up."
 
 286 HAVOC 
 
 "Telephone me directly you have taken it safely to 
 Downing Street," she begged. 
 "I will," he promised. 
 
 Bellamy walked from Dover Street to the Strand. The 
 streets were almost brilliant with the cold, hard moon- 
 light. The air seemed curiously keen. Once or twice 
 the fall of his feet upon the pavement was so clear and 
 distinct that he fancied he was being followed and glanced 
 sharply around. He reached the Milan Hotel, however, 
 without adventure, and looked towards the little open 
 space in the hall where he had expected to find Laverick. 
 There was no one there ! He stood still for a moment, 
 troubled with a sudden sense of apprehension. The 
 place was deserted except for a couple of sleepy-looking 
 clerks and a small army of cleaners busy with their 
 machines down in the restaurant, moving about like 
 mysterious figures in the dim light. 
 
 Bellamy turned back to the hall-porter who had ad- 
 mitted him. 
 
 " Do you happen to know what has become of the gen- 
 tleman whom I was with about an hour ago?" he asked, 
 " a tall, fair gentleman Mr. Laverick his name was ?" 
 
 The hall-porter recognized Bellamy and touched his 
 hat. 
 
 " Why, yes, sir ! " he answered with a somewhat mys- 
 terious air. "Mr. Laverick was sitting over there in an 
 easy-chair until about half-an-hour ago. Then two gentle- 
 men arrived in a taxicab and inquired for him. They 
 talked for a little time, and finally Mr. Laverick went away 
 with them." 
 
 Bellamy was puzzled. 
 
 "Went away with them?" he repeated. "I don'f
 
 LAVERICK'S ARREST 287 
 
 understand that, Reynolds. He was to have waited here 
 till I returned." 
 
 The man hesitated. 
 
 "It did n't strike me, sir," he said, "that Mr. Laverick 
 was very wishful to go. It seemed as though he had n't 
 much choice about the matter." 
 
 Bellamy looked at him keenly. 
 
 "Tell me what is in your mind?" he asked. 
 
 "Mr. Bellamy, sir," the hall-porter replied, "I knew 
 one of those gentlemen by sight. He was a detective from 
 Scotland Yard, and the one who was with him was a 
 policeman in plain clothes." 
 
 "Good God!" Bellamy exclaimed. "You think, 
 then, " 
 
 " I am afraid there was no doubt about it, sir," the man 
 answered. "Mr. Laverick was arrested on some charge 
 or another."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 MORRISON'S DISCLOSURE 
 
 INTO New Oxford Street, one of the ceaseless streams of 
 polyglot humanity, came Zoe from her cheerless day 
 bound for the theatre. She was a little whiter, a little 
 more tired than usual. All day long she had heard nothing 
 of Laverick. All day long she had sat in her tiny room 
 with the memory of that horrible night before her. She 
 had tried in vain to sleep, she had made no effort what- 
 ever to eat. She knew now why Arthur Morrison had 
 fled away. She knew the cause of that paroxysm of fear 
 in which he had sought her out. The horror of the whole 
 thing had crept into her blood like poison. Life was once 
 more a dreary, profitless struggle. All the wonderful 
 dreams, which had made existence seem almost like a 
 fairy-tale for this last week, had faded away. She was 
 once more a mournful little waif among the pitiless crowds. 
 She turned to the left and past the Holborn Tube. Boys 
 were shouting everywhere the contents of the evening 
 papers. Nearly every one seemed to be carrying one of the 
 pink sheets. She herself passed on with unseeing eyes. 
 News was nothing to her. Governments might rise and 
 fall, war might come and go, she had still life to support, 
 a friendless little life, too, on two pounds fifteen shillings 
 a week. The news they shouted fell upon deaf ears, but 
 one boy unfurled almost before her eyes the headlines of 
 his sheet. 
 
 SENSATIONAL ARREST OF A WELL-KNOWN 
 STOCKBROKER. CHARGE OF MURDER.
 
 MORRISON'S DISCLOSURE 289 
 
 She came to a sudden stop and pulled out her purse. Her 
 fingers trembled so that the penny fell on to the pave- 
 ment. The boy picked it up willingly enough, however, 
 and she passed on with the paper in her hand. There it 
 was on the front page staring her in the face : 
 
 Early yesterday morning Mr. Stephen Laverick, 
 of the firm of Laverick & Morrison, Stockbrokers, 
 Old Broad Street, was arrested at the Milan Hotel 
 on the charge of being concerned in the murder of a 
 person unknown, in Crooked Friars 'Alley, on Mon- 
 day last. The accused, who made no reply to the 
 charge, was removed to Bow Street Pol ice-Station. 
 Particulars of his examination before the magis- 
 trates will be found on page 4. 
 
 There was a dull singing in her ears. An electric tram, 
 coming up from the underground passage, seemed to 
 bring with it some sort of thunder from an unknown world. 
 She staggered on, unseeing, gasping for breath. If she 
 could find somewhere to sit down ! If she could only 
 rest for a moment ! Then a sudden wave of strength came 
 to her, the blood flowed once more in her veins blood 
 that was hot with anger, that stained her cheeks with a 
 spot of red. It was the man she loved, this, being made 
 to suffer falsely. It was the fulfilment of their threat - 
 a deliberate plot against him. The murderer of Crooked 
 Friars' Alley she knew who that was ! she knew ! 
 Perhaps she might help ! 
 
 She had not the slightest recollection of the remainder 
 of that walk, but she found herself presently sitting in ;i 
 quiet corner of the theatre with the paper spread out 
 before her. She read that Stephen Laverick had been 
 brought before Mr. Rawson, the magistrate of Bow Street
 
 2 9 o HAVOC 
 
 Police Court, on a warrant charging him with having 
 been concerned with the murder of a person unknown, 
 and that he had pleaded " Not Guilty ! " Her eyes glittered 
 as she read that the first witness called was Mr. Arthur 
 Morrison, late partner of the accused. She read his 
 deposition that he had left Laverick at their offices at 
 eleven o'clock on the night in question, that they were at 
 that time absolutely without means, and had no prospect 
 of meeting their engagements on the morrow. She read 
 the evidence of Mr. Fenwick, bank manager, to the effect 
 that Mr. Laverick had, on the following morning, deposited 
 with him the sum of twenty thousand pounds in Bank of 
 England notes, by means of which the engagements of 
 the firm were duly met, that those notes had since been 
 redeemed, and that he had no idea of their present where- 
 abouts. She read, too, the evidence of Adolf Kahn, an 
 Austrian visiting this country upon private business, who 
 deposed that he was in the vicinity just before midnight, 
 that he saw a person, whom he identified as the accused, 
 walking down the street and, after disappearing for a few 
 minutes down the entry, return and re-enter the offices 
 from which he had issued. He explained his presence there 
 by the fact that he was waiting for a clerk employed by 
 the Goldfields' Corporation, Limited, whose offices were 
 close by. Further formal evidence was given, and a remand 
 asked for. The accused's solicitor was on the point of 
 addressing the court when Mr. Rawson was unfortunately 
 taken ill. After waiting for some time, the case was ad- 
 journed until the next day, and the accused man was 
 removed in custody. 
 
 Zoe laid down the paper and rose to her feet. She 
 made her way to where the stage-manager was superin- 
 tending the erection of some new scenery.
 
 MORRISON'S DISCLOSURE 291 
 
 "Mr. Heeprnan," she exclaimed, "I cannot stay to 
 rehearsal ! I have to go out." 
 
 He turned heavily round and looked at her. 
 
 "Rehearsal postponed," he declared solemnly. "Shall 
 you be back for the evening performance, or shall we close 
 the theatre?" 
 
 His clumsy irony missed its mark. Her thoughts were 
 too intensely focussed upon one thing. 
 
 " I am sorry," she replied, turning away. " I will come 
 back as soon as I can." 
 
 He called out after her and she paused. 
 
 "Look here," he said, "you were absent from the per- 
 formance the other evening, and now you are skipping 
 rehearsal without even waiting for permission. It can't 
 be done, young lady. You must do your playing around 
 some other time. If you're not here when you're called, 
 you need n't trouble to turn up again. Do you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 Her lips quivered and the sense of impending disaster 
 which seemed to be brooding over her life became almost 
 overwhelming. 
 
 "I'll come back as soon as I can," she promised, with 
 a little break in her voice, " as soon as ever I can, Mr. 
 Heepman." 
 
 She hurried out of the theatre and took her place once 
 more among the hurrying throng of pedestrians. Several 
 people turned round to look at her. Her white face, tight- 
 drawn mouth, and eyes almost unnaturally large, seemed 
 to have become the abiding-place for tragedy. She her- 
 self saw no one. She would have taken a cab, but a glimpse 
 at the contents of her purse dissuaded her. She walked 
 steadily on to Jermyn Street, walked up the stairs to the 
 third floor, and knocked at her brother's door. No one
 
 2 9 2 HAVOC 
 
 answered her at first. She turned the handle and entered 
 to find the room empty. There were sounds, however, in 
 the further apartment, and she called out to him. 
 
 "Arthur," she cried, "are you there?" 
 
 "Who is it?" he demanded. 
 
 "It is I Zoe!" she exclaimed. 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "I want to speak to you, Arthur. I must speak to you. 
 Please come as quickly as you can." 
 
 He growled something and in a few moments he ap- 
 peared. He was wearing the morning clothes in which 
 he had attended court earlier in the day, but the change in 
 him was perhaps all the more marked by reason of this 
 resumption of his old attire. His cheeks were hollow, his 
 eyes scarcely for an instant seemed to lose that feverish 
 gleam of terror with which he had returned from Liver- 
 pool. He knew very well what she had come about, and 
 he began nervously to try and bully her. 
 
 " I wish you would n't come to these rooms, Zoe," he 
 said. "I've told you before they're bachelors' apart- 
 ments, and they don't like women about the place. What 
 is it? What do you want?" 
 
 "I was brought here last time without any particular 
 desire on my part," she answered, looking him in the face. 
 "I've come now to ask you what accursed plot this is 
 against Stephen Laverick? What were you doing in the 
 court this morning, lying? What is the meaning of it, 
 Arthur?" 
 
 "If you've come to talk rubbish like that," he declared 
 roughly, "you'd better be off." 
 
 "No, it is not rubbish!" she went on fearlessly. "I 
 think I can understand what it is that has happened. 
 They have terrified you and bribed you until you are
 
 MORRISON'S DISCLOSURE 293 
 
 willing to do any despicable thing even this. Your 
 father was good to my mother, Arthur, and I have tried to 
 feel towards you as though you were indeed a relation. 
 But nothing of that counts. I want you to realize that I 
 know the truth, and that I will not see an innocent man 
 convicted while the guilty go free." 
 
 He moved a step towards her. They were on opposite 
 sides of the small round table which stood in the centre 
 of the apartment. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he demanded hoarsely. 
 
 "Is n't it plain enough?" she exclaimed. "You came 
 to my rooms a week or so ago, a terrified, broken-down 
 man. If ever there was guilt in a man's face, it was in 
 yours. You sent for Laverick. He pitied you and helped 
 you away. At Liverpool they would not let you embark 
 these men. They have brought you back here. You 
 are their tool. But you know very well, Arthur, that it 
 was not Stephen Laverick who killed the man in Crooked 
 Friars' Alley ! You know very well that it was not Stephen 
 Laverick !" 
 
 " Why the devil should I know anything about it ? " he 
 asked fiercely. 
 
 A note of passion suddenly crept into her voice. Her 
 little white hand, with its accusing forefinger, shot out 
 towards him. 
 
 "Because it was you, Arthur Morrison, who com- 
 mitted that crime," she cried, "and sooner than another 
 man should suffer for it, I shall go to court myself and 
 tell the truth." 
 
 He was, for the moment, absolutely speechless, pale 
 as death, with nervously twitching lips and fingers. But 
 there was murder in his eyes. 
 
 "What do vou know about this?" he muttered.
 
 294 HAVOC 
 
 "Never mind," she answered. "I know and I guess 
 quite enough to convince me and I think anybody 
 else that you are the guilty man. I would have helped 
 you and shielded you, whatever it cost me, but I will not 
 do so at Stephen Laverick's expense." 
 
 "What is Laverick to you?" he growled. 
 
 "He is nothing to me," she replied, "but the best of 
 friends. Even were he less than that, do you suppose 
 that I would let an innocent man suffer ? " 
 
 He moistened his dry lips rapidly. 
 
 " You are talking nonsense, Zoe," he said, " non- 
 sense! Even if there has been some little mistake, what 
 could I do now ? I have given my evidence. So far as I 
 am concerned, the case is finished. I shall not be called 
 again until the trial." 
 
 " Then you had better go to the magistrates to-morrow 
 morning and take back your evidence," she declared 
 boldly, " for if you do not, I shall be there and I shall tell 
 the truth." 
 
 "Zoe," he gasped, "don't try me too high. This thing 
 has upset me. I'm ill. Can't you see it, Zoe? Look at 
 me. I have n't slept for weeks. Night and day I 've had 
 the fear the fear always with me. You don't know 
 what it is you can't imagine. It 's like a terrible ghost, 
 keeping pace with you wherever you go, laying his icy 
 finger upon you whenever you would rest, mocking at 
 you when you try to drown thought even for a moment. 
 Don't you try me too far, Zoe. I 'm not responsible. Laver- 
 ick is n't the man you think him to be. He is n't the man 
 I believed. He did have that money he did, indeed." 
 
 "That," she said, "is to be explained. But he is not a 
 murderer." 
 
 "Listen to me, Zoe," Morrison continued, leaning
 
 MORRISON'S DISCLOSURE 295 
 
 across the table. " Come and stay with me for a time and 
 we will go away for a week somewhere to the seaside. 
 We will talk about this and think it over. I want to get 
 away from London. We will go to Brighton, if you like. 
 I must do something for you, Zoe. I'm afraid I've neg- 
 lected you a good deal. Perhaps I could get you a better 
 part at one of the theatres. I must make you an allow- 
 ance. You ought to be wearing better clothes." 
 
 She drew a little away. 
 
 "I want nothing from you, Arthur," she said, "except 
 this that you speak the truth." 
 
 He wiped his forehead and struck the table before her. 
 
 "But, good God, Zoe!" he exclaimed, "do you know 
 what it is that you are asking me? Do you want me to 
 go into court and say ' That is n't the man. It is I 
 who am the murderer ' ? Do you want me to feel their 
 hands upon my shoulder, to be put there in the dock and 
 have all the people staring at me curiously because they 
 know that before very long I am to stand upon the scaf- 
 fold and have that rope around my neck and 
 
 He broke off with a low cry, wringing his hands like a 
 child in a fit of impotent terror. But the girl in front of 
 him never flinched. 
 
 "Arthur," she said, "crime is a terrible thing, but 
 nothing in the world can alter its punishment. If it is 
 frightful for you to think of this, what must it be for him ? 
 And you are guilty and he is not." 
 
 "I was mad!" Morrison went on, now almost beside 
 himself. " Zoe, I was mad ! I called there to have a drink. 
 We were broke, the firm was broke. I 'd a hundred or 
 so in my pocket and I was going to bolt the next day. 
 And there, within a few yards of me, was that man, with 
 such a roll of notes as I had never seen in my life. Five
 
 296 HAVOC 
 
 hundred pounds, every one of them, and a wad as thick 
 as my fist. Zoe, they fascinated me. I had two drinks 
 quickly and I followed him out. Somehow or other, I 
 found that I'd caught up a knife that was on the counter. 
 I never meant to hurt him seriously, but I wanted some 
 of those notes ! I was leaving the next day for Africa and 
 I had n't enough money to make a fair start. I wanted 
 it my God, how I wanted money!" 
 
 "It couldn't have been worth that!" she cried, 
 looking at him wonderingly. 
 
 " I was mad," he continued. " I saw the notes and they 
 went to my head. Men do wild things sometimes when 
 they are drunk, or for love. I don't drink much, and I'm 
 not over fond of women, but, my God, money is like the 
 blood of my body to me ! I saw it, and I wanted it and I 
 wanted it, and I went mad ! Zoe, you won't give me 
 away? Say you won't!" 
 
 " But what am I to do ?" she protested. "He must not 
 suffer." 
 
 "He'll get off," Morrison assured her thickly. "I tell 
 you he'll get off. He's only to part with the document, 
 which never belonged to him, and the charge will be 
 withdrawn. They know who the murdered man was. 
 They know where the money came from which he was 
 carrying. I tell you he can save himself. You would n't 
 dream of sending me to the gallows, Zoe!" 
 
 " Stephen Laverick will never give up that document to 
 those people," she declared. " I am sure of that." 
 
 "It's his own lookout," Morrison muttered. "He has 
 the chance, anyway." 
 
 She turned toward the door. 
 
 "I must go away," she said. "I must go away and 
 think. It is all too horrible."
 
 MORRISON'S DISCLOSURE 297 
 
 He came round the table swiftly and caught at her 
 wrists. 
 
 "Listen," he said, "I can't let you go like this. You 
 must tell me that you are not going to give me up. Do 
 you hear?" 
 
 "I can make no promises, Arthur," she answered 
 sadly, " only this I shall not let Stephen Laverick suffer 
 in your stead." 
 
 He opened his hand and she shrank back, terrified, 
 when she saw what it was that he was holding. Then he 
 struck her down and without a backward glance fled out 
 of the place.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 BELLAMY'S SUCCESS 
 
 LATE that afternoon the hall-porter at the Milan Hotel, 
 the commissionaire, and the chief maitre d' hotel from the 
 Cafe, who happened to be in the hall, together with 
 several others around the place who knew Stephen La- 
 verick by sight, were treated to an unexpected surprise. 
 A large closed motor-car drove up to the front entrance 
 and several men descended, among whom was Laverick 
 himself. He nodded to the hall-porter, whose salute was 
 purely mechanical, and making his way without hesita- 
 tion to the interior of the hotel, presented his receipt at 
 the cashier's desk and asked for his packet. The clerk 
 looked up at him in amazement. He did not, for the 
 moment, notice that the two men standing immediately 
 behind bore the stamp of plain-clothes policemen. He 
 had only a few minutes ago finished reading the report of 
 Laverick's examination before the magistrates and his 
 remand until the morrow, upon the charge of murder. 
 His knowledge of English law was by no means per- 
 fect, but he was at least aware that Laverick's appear- 
 ance outside the purlieus of the prison was an unusual 
 happening. 
 
 "Your packet, sir!" he repeated, in amazement. 
 "Why, this is Mr. Laverick himself, is it not?" 
 
 "Certainly," was the quiet reply. "I am Stephen 
 Laverick." 
 
 The clerk called the head cashier, who also stared at
 
 BELLAMY'S SUCCESS 299 
 
 Laverick as though he were a ghost. They whispered 
 together in the background for a moment, and their 
 faces were a study in perplexity. Of Laverick's identity, 
 however, there was no manner of doubt. Besides, the 
 presence of what was obviously a very ample escort 
 somewhat reassured them. The cashier himself came 
 forward. 
 
 "We shall be exceedingly glad, Mr. Laverick," he 
 said dryly, " to get rid of your packet. Your instructions 
 were that we should disregard all orders to hand it over 
 to any person whatsoever, and I may say that they have 
 been strictly adhered to. We have, however, had two 
 applications in your name this morning." 
 
 "They were both forgeries," Laverick declared. 
 
 The cashier hesitated. Then he leaned across the 
 broad mahogany counter towards Laverick. One of the 
 men who appeared to form part of the escort detached 
 himself from them and approached a few steps nearer. 
 
 "This gentleman is your friend, sir?" the cashier 
 asked, glancing towards him. 
 
 "He is my solicitor," Laverick answered, "and is en- 
 tirely in my confidence. If you have anything to tell me, 
 I should like Mr. Bellamy also to hear." 
 
 Bellamy, who was standing a little in the background, 
 took his place by Laverick's side. The cashier, who 
 knew him by sight, bowed. 
 
 "Beside these two forged orders, sir," he said, turning 
 again to Laverick, " we have had a man who took a room 
 in the hotel leave a small black bag here, which he in- 
 sisted upon having deposited in our document safe. My 
 assistant had accepted it and was actually locking it up 
 when he noticed a faint sound inside which he could not 
 understand. The bag was opened and found to contain
 
 300 HAVOC 
 
 an infernal machine which would have exploded in a 
 quarter of an hour." 
 
 Bellamy drew his breath sharply between his teeth. 
 
 "We should have thought of that!" he exclaimed 
 softly. " That 's Kahn's work ! " 
 
 "I seem to have given you a great deal of trouble," 
 Laverick remarked quietly. "I gather, however, from 
 what you say, that my packet is still in your possession?" 
 
 "It is, sir," the man assented. "We have two detec- 
 tives from Scotland Yard here at the present moment, 
 though, and we had almost decided to place it in their 
 charge for greater security." 
 
 "It will be well taken care of from now, I promise 
 you," Laverick declared. 
 
 The cashier and his clerk led the way into the inner 
 office. At their invitation Laverick and his solicitor fol- 
 lowed, and a few yards behind came the two plain-clothes 
 policemen, Bellamy, and the superintendent. The safe 
 was opened and the packet placed in Laverick's hands. 
 He passed it on at once to Bellamy, and immediately 
 afterwards the doorway behind was thronged with men, 
 apparently ordinary loiterers around the hotel. They 
 made a slow and exceedingly cautious exit. Once out- 
 side, Bellamy turned to Laverick with outstretched 
 hand. 
 
 " Au revoir and good luck, old chap !" he said heartily. 
 " I think you '11 find things go your way all right to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 He departed, forming one of a somewhat singular 
 cavalcade two of his friends on either side, two in 
 front, and two behind. It had almost the appearance of 
 a procession. The whole party stepped into a closed 
 motor-car. Three or four men were lounging on the
 
 BELLAMY'S SUCCESS 301 
 
 pavement and there was some excited whispering, but no 
 one actually interfered. As soon as they had left the 
 courtyard, Laverick and his solicitor, with his own guard, 
 re-entered the motor-car in which they had arrived, and 
 drove back to Bow Street. Very few words were ex- 
 changed during the short journey. His solicitor, however, 
 bade him good-night cheerfully, and Laverick's bearing 
 was by no means the bearing of a man in despair. 
 
 In Downing Street, within the next half-an-hour, a 
 somewhat remarkable little gathering took place. The 
 two men chiefly responsible for the destinies of the nation 
 the Prime Minister and the Secretary of State for 
 Foreign Affairs sat side by side before a small table. 
 Facing them was Bellamy, and spread out in front were 
 those few pages of foolscap, released from their envelope 
 a few minutes ago for the first time since the hand of 
 the great Chancellor himself had pressed down the seal. 
 The Foreign Minister had just finished a translation for 
 the benefit of his colleague, and the two men were silent, 
 as men are in the presence of big events. 
 
 "Bellamy," the Prime Minister said slowly, "you are 
 willing to stake, I presume, your reputation upon the 
 authenticity of this document?" 
 
 " My honor and my life, if you will," Bellamy answered 
 earnestly. "That is no copy which you have there. On 
 the contrary, the handwriting is the handwriting of the 
 Chancellor himself." 
 
 The Prime Minister turned silently towards his col- 
 league. The latter, whose eyes still seemed glued to those 
 fateful words, looked up. 
 
 "All I can say is this," he remarked impressively, 
 "that never in my time have I seen written words i*--
 
 302 HAVOC 
 
 sessed of so much significance. One moment, if you 
 please." 
 
 He touched the bell, and his private secretary entered 
 at once from an adjoining room. 
 
 "Anthony," he said, "telephone to the Great Western 
 Railway Company at Paddington. Ask for the station- 
 master in my name, and see that a special train is held 
 ready to depart for Windsor in half-an-hour. Tell the 
 station-master that all ordinary traffic must be held up, but 
 that the destination of the special is not to be divulged." 
 
 The young man bowed and withdrew. 
 
 "The more I consider this matter," the Foreign Minister 
 went on, "the more miraculous does the appearance of 
 this document seem. We know now why the Czar is 
 struggling so frantically to curtail his visit why he 
 came, as it were, under protest, and seeks everywhere for 
 an opportunity to leave before the appointed time. His 
 health is all right. He has had a hint from Vienna that 
 there has been a leakage. His special mission only reached 
 Paris this morning. The President is in the country and 
 their audience is not fixed until to-morrow. Rawson will 
 go over with a copy of these papers and a dispatch from 
 His Majesty by the nine o'clock train. It is not often that 
 we have had the chance of such a 'coup' as this." 
 
 He drew his chief a few steps away. They whispered 
 together for several moments. When they returned, the 
 Foreign Minister rang the bell again for his secretary. 
 
 "Anthony," he said, "Sir James and I will be leav- 
 ing in a few minutes for Windsor. Go round yourself 
 to General Hamilton, telephone to Aldershot for Lord 
 Neville, and call round at the Admiralty Board for Sir 
 John Harrison. Tell them all to be here at ten o'clock 
 to-night. If I am not back, they must wait. If either
 
 BELLAMY'S SUCCESS 303 
 
 of them have royal commands, you need only repeat the 
 word 'Finisterre.' They will understand." 
 
 The young man once more withdrew. The Prime 
 Minister turned back to the papers. 
 
 "It will be worth a great deal," he remarked, with a 
 grim smile, "to see His Majesty's face when he reads 
 this." 
 
 "It would be worth a great deal more," his fellow 
 statesman answered dryly, "to be with his august cousin 
 at the interview which will follow. A month ago, the 
 thought that war might come under our administration 
 was a continual terror to me. To-day things are entirely 
 different. To-day it really seems that if war does come, 
 it may be the most glorious happening for England of 
 this century. You saw the last report from Kiel ? " 
 
 Sir James nodded. 
 
 " There is n't a battleship or a cruiser worth a snap of 
 the fingers south of the German Ocean," his colleague 
 continued earnestly. " They are cooped up safe enough, 
 they think under the shelter of their fortifications. 
 Hamilton has another idea. Between you and me, Sir 
 James, so have I. I tell you," he went on, in a deeper and 
 more passionate tone, "it's like the passing of a terrible 
 nightmare this. We have had ten years of panic, of 
 nervous fears of a German invasion, and no one knows 
 more than you and I, Sir James, how much cause we 
 have had for those fears. It will seem strange if, after 
 all, history has to write that chapter differently." 
 
 The secretary re-entered and announced the result of 
 his telephone interview with the superintendent at Pad- 
 dington. The two great men rose. The Prime Minister 
 held out his hand to Bellamy. 
 
 "Bellamy," he declared, "you've done us one more
 
 304 HAVOC 
 
 important service. There may be work for you within 
 the next few weeks, but you've earned a rest for a day or 
 two, at any rate. There is nothing more we can do?" 
 
 "Nothing except a letter to the Home Secretary, Sir 
 James," Bellamy answered. "Remember, sir, that al- 
 though I have worked hard, the man to whom we really 
 owe those papers is Stephen Laverick." 
 
 The Prime Minister frowned thoughtfully. 
 
 "It's a difficult situation, Bellamy," he said. "You 
 are asking a great deal when you suggest that we should 
 interfere in the slightest manner with the course of jus- 
 tice. You are absolutely convinced, I suppose, that this 
 man Laverick had nothing to do with the murder?" 
 
 "Absolutely and entirely, sir," Bellamy replied. 
 
 "The murdered man has never been identified by the 
 police," Sir James remarked. "Who was he?" 
 
 "His name was Rudolph Von Behrling," Bellamy an- 
 nounced, "and he was actually the Chancellor's nephew, 
 also his private secretary. I have told you the history, 
 sir, of those papers. It was Von Behrling who, without a 
 doubt, murdered the American journalist and secured 
 them. It was he who insisted upon coming to London 
 instead of returning with them to Vienna, which would have 
 been the most obvious course for him to have adopted. He 
 was a pauper, and desperately in love with a certain lady 
 who has helped me throughout this matter. He agreed 
 to part with the papers for twenty thousand pounds, and 
 the lady incidentally promised to elope with him the same 
 night. I met him by appointment at that little restaurant 
 in the city, paid him the twenty thousand pounds, and 
 received the false packet which you remember I brought 
 to you, sir. As a matter ? fact, Von Behrling, either by 
 accident or design, and no man now will ever know which,
 
 BELLAMY'S SUCCESS 305 
 
 left me with those papers which I was supposed to have 
 bought in his possession, and also the money. Within 
 five minutes he was murdered. Doubtless we shall know 
 sometime by whom, but it was not by Stephen Laverick. 
 Laverick's share in the whole thing was nothing but this 
 that he found the pocket-book, and that he made use 
 of the notes in his business for twenty-four hours to save 
 himself from ruin. That was unjustifiable, of course. 
 He has made atonement. The notes at this minute are in 
 a safe deposit vault and will be returned intact to the fund 
 from which they came. I want, also, to impress upon 
 you, Sir James, the fact that Baron de Streuss offered one 
 hundred thousand pounds for that letter." 
 
 Sir James nodded thoughtfully. He stooped down and 
 scrawled a few lines on half a sheet of note-paper. 
 
 "You must take this to Lord Estcourt at once," he said, 
 ''and tell him the whole affair, omitting all specific infor- 
 mation as to the nature of the papers. The thing must 
 be arranged, of course." 
 
 Half-a-dozen reporters, who had somehow got hold of 
 the fact that the Prime Minister and his colleague from 
 the Foreign Office were going down to Windsor on a 
 special mission, folio wed them, but even they remained alto- 
 gether in the dark as to the events which were really trans- 
 piring. They knew nothing of the interview between the 
 Czar and his august host an interview which in itself 
 was a chapter in the history of these times. They knew 
 nothing of the reason of their royal visitor's decision to pro- 
 long his visit instead of shortening it, or of his autograph 
 letter to the President of the French Republic, which 
 reached Paris even before the special mission from St. 
 Petersburg had presented themselves. The one thing
 
 306 HAVOC 
 
 which they did know, and that alone was significant enough, 
 was that the Czar's Foreign Minister was cabled for that 
 night to come to his master by special train from St. 
 Petersburg. At the Austrian and German Embassies, 
 forewarned by a report from Baron de Streuss, something 
 like consternation reigned. The Russian Ambassador, 
 heckled to death, took refuge at Windsor under pretence 
 of a command from his royal master. The happiest man 
 in London was Prince Rosmaran.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 LAVERICK ACQUITTED 
 
 AT mid-day on the following morning Laverick stepped 
 down from the dock at Bow Street and, as the evening 
 papers put it, " in company with his friends left the 
 court." The proceedings altogether took scarcely more 
 than half-an-hour. Laverick's solicitor first put Shep- 
 herd in the box, who gave his account of Morrison's visit 
 to the restaurant, spoke of his hurried exit, and identified 
 the knife which he had seen him snatch up. Cross-ex- 
 amined as to why he had kept silent, he explained that 
 Mr. Morrison had been a good customer and he saw no 
 reason why he should give unsolicited evidence which 
 would cost a man his life. Directly, however, another 
 man had been accused, the matter appeared to him to be 
 altogether different. He had come forward the moment 
 he had heard of Laverick's arrest, to offer his evidence. 
 
 While the opinion of the court was still undecided, 
 Laverick's solicitor called Miss Zoe Leneveu. A little 
 murmur of interest ran through the court. Laverick him- 
 self started. Zoe stepped into the witness-box, looking 
 exceedingly pale, and with a bandage over the upper part 
 of her head. She admitted that she was the half-sister 
 of Arthur Morrison, although there was no blood relation- 
 ship. She described his sudden visit to her rooms on the 
 night of the murder, and his state of great alarm. She 
 declared that he had confessed to her on the previous 
 afternoon that he had been guilty of the murder in question. 
 
 Her place in the witness-box was taken by the Honorable
 
 308 HAVOC 
 
 David Bellamy. He declared that the prisoner was an 
 old friend of his, and that the twenty thousand pounds of 
 which he had been recently possessed, had come from 
 him for investment in Laverick's business. The circum- 
 stances, he admitted, were somewhat peculiar, and until 
 negotiations had been concluded Mr. Laverick had 
 doubtless felt uncertain how to make use of the money. 
 But he assured the court that there was no person who 
 had any claim to the sum of money in question save him- 
 self, and that he was perfectly aware of the use to which 
 Laverick had put it. 
 
 Laverick was discharged within a very few minutes, 
 and a warrant was issued for the apprehension of Mor- 
 rison. Laverick found Bellamy waiting for him, and was 
 hurried into his motor. 
 
 "Well, you see," the latter exclaimed, "we kept our 
 word ! That dear plucky little friend of yours turned the 
 scale, but in any case I think that there would not have 
 been much trouble about the matter. The magistrate 
 had received a communication direct from the Home 
 Secretary concerning your case." 
 
 "I am very grateful indeed," Laverick declared. "I 
 tell you I think I am very lucky. I wish I knew what 
 had become of Miss Leneveu. The usher told me she 
 left the court before we came out." 
 
 "I asked her to go straight back to her rooms," Bellamy 
 said. "You must excuse me for interfering, Laverick, 
 but I found her almost in a state of collapse last night 
 in Jermyn Street. I was having Morrison watched, and 
 my man reported to me that he had left his rooms in a 
 state of great excitement, and that a young lady was there 
 who appeared to be seriously injured." 
 
 " D d scamp ! " Laverick muttered.
 
 LAVERICK ACQUITTED 309 
 
 "I did everything I could," Bellamy continued. "I 
 fetched her at once and sent her back to her house with 
 a hospital nurse and some one to look after her. The 
 wound was n't serious, but the fellow must have been a 
 brute indeed to have lifted his hand against such a child. 
 I wonder whether he'll get away." 
 
 "I should doubt it," Laverick remarked. "He has n't 
 the nerve. He'll probably get drunk and blow his brains 
 out. He's a broken-spirited cur, after all." 
 
 "You'll have some lunch?" Bellamy asked. 
 
 Laverick shook his head. 
 
 "If you don't mind, I'd like to go on and see Miss 
 Leneveu." 
 
 "Put me down at the club, then, and take my car on, 
 if you will." 
 
 Laverick walked up and down the pavement outside 
 Zoe's little house for nearly half-an-hour. He had found 
 the door closed and locked, and a neighbor had informed 
 him that Miss Leneveu had gone out in a cab with the 
 nurse, some time ago, and had not returned. Laverick 
 sent Bellamy's car back and waited. Presently a four- 
 wheel cab came round the corner and stopped in front of 
 her house. Laverick opened the door and helped Zoe 
 out. She was as white as death, and the nurse who was 
 with her was looking anxious. 
 
 "You are safe, then?" she murmured, holding out her 
 hands. 
 
 "Quite," he answered. "You dear little girl!" 
 
 Zoe had fainted, however, and Laverick hurried out 
 for the doctor. Curiously enough, it was the same man 
 who only a week or so ago had come to see Arthur 
 Morrison.
 
 3io HAVOC 
 
 "She has had a bad scalp wound," he declared, "and 
 her nervous system is very much run down. There is 
 nothing serious. She seems to have just escaped con- 
 cussion. The nurse had better stay with her for another 
 day, at any rate." 
 
 "You are sure that it isn't serious?" Laverick asked 
 eagerly. 
 
 "Not in the least," the doctor answered dryly. "I 
 see worse wounds every day of my life. I'll come again 
 to-morrow, if you like, but it really is n't necessary with 
 the nurse on the spot." 
 
 His natural pessimism was for a moment lightened by 
 the fee which Laverick pressed upon him, and he departed 
 with a few more encouraging words. Laverick stayed 
 and talked for a short time with the nurse. 
 
 "She has gone off to sleep now, sir," the latter an- 
 nounced. "There is n't anything to worry about. She 
 seems as though she had been having a hard time, 
 though. There was scarcely a thing in the house but 
 half a packet of tea and these." 
 
 She held up a packet of pawn tickets. 
 
 "I found these in a drawer when I came," she said. 
 "I had to look round, because there was no money and 
 nothing whatever in the house." 
 
 Laverick was suddenly conscious of an absurd mistiness 
 before his eyes. 
 
 "Poor little woman!" he murmured. "I think she'd 
 sooner have starved than ask for help." 
 
 The nurse smiled. 
 
 "I thought at first that she was rather a vain young 
 lady," she remarked. "An empty larder and a pile of 
 pawn tickets, and a new hat with a receipted bill for 
 thirty shillings," she added, pointing to the sofa.
 
 LAVERICK ACQUITTED 311 
 
 Laverick placed some notes in her hands. 
 
 "Please keep these," he begged, "and see that she has 
 everything she wants. I shall be here again later in the 
 day. There is not the slightest need for all this. She will 
 be quite well off for the rest of her life. Will you try and 
 engage some one for a day or two to come in until she is 
 able to be moved?" 
 
 "I'll look after her," the nurse promised. 
 
 Laverick went reluctantly away. The events of the last 
 few days were becoming more and more like a dream to 
 him. He went to his club almost from habit. Presently 
 the excitement which all London seemed to be sharing 
 drove his own personal feelings a little into the back- 
 ground. The air was full of rumors. The Prime Min- 
 ister and the Foreign Secretary were spoken of as one 
 speaks of heroes. Nothing was definitely known, but 
 there was a splendid feeling of confidence that for once 
 in her history England was preparing to justify her 
 existence as a great Power.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 THE PLOT THAT FAILED 
 
 THE progress of the Czar from Buckingham Palace to the 
 Mansion House, where he had, after all, consented to 
 lunch with the Lord Mayor, witnessed a popular out- 
 burst of enthusiasm absolutely inexplicable to the general 
 public. It was known that affairs in Central Europe were 
 in a dangerously precarious state, and it was felt that the 
 Czar's visit here, and the urgent summons which had 
 brought from St. Petersburg his Foreign Minister, were 
 indications that the long wished-for entente between Russia 
 and this country was now actually at hand. There was 
 in the Press a curious reticence with regard to the develop- 
 ment of the political situation. One felt everywhere that 
 it was the calm before the storm that at any moment 
 the great black headlines might tell of some startling 
 stroke of diplomacy, some dangerous peril averted or 
 defied. The circumstances themselves of the Czar's visit 
 had been a little peculiar. On his arrival it was announced 
 that, for reasons of health, the original period of his stay, 
 namely a week, was to be cut down to two days. No 
 sooner had he arrived at Windsor, however, than a change 
 was announced. The Czar had so far recovered as to be 
 able even to extend the period at first fixed for his visit. 
 Simultaneously with this, the German and Austrian Press 
 were full of bitter and barely veiled articles, whose meaning 
 was unmistakable. The Czar had thrown in his lot at 
 first with Austria and Germany. That he was going
 
 THE PLOT THAT FAILED 313 
 
 deliberately to break away from that arrangement there 
 seemed now scarcely any manner of doubt. 
 
 Bellamy and Louise, from a window in Fleet Street, 
 watched him go by. Prince Rosmaran had been specially 
 bidden to the luncheon, but he, too, had been with them 
 earlier in the morning. Afterwards they turned their 
 backs upon the city, and as soon as the crowd had thinned 
 made their way to one of the west-end restaurants. 
 
 "It seems too good to be true," declared Louise. 
 
 Bellamy nodded. 
 
 "Nevertheless I am convinced that it is true. The 
 humor of the whole thing is that it was our friends in 
 Germany themselves who pressed the Czar not to alto- 
 gether cancel his visit for fear of exciting suspicion. That, 
 of course, was when there seemed to be no question of the 
 news of the Vienna compact leaking out. They would 
 never have dared .to expose a man to such a trial as the 
 Czar must have faced when the resume of the Vienna pro- 
 ceedings, in the Chancellor's own handwriting, was read 
 to him at Windsor." 
 
 "You saw the telegram from Paris?" Louise inter- 
 posed. "The special mission from St. Petersburg has 
 been recalled." 
 
 Bellamy smiled. 
 
 "It all goes to prove what I say," he went on. "Any 
 morning you may expect to hear that Austria and Germany 
 have received an ultimatum." 
 
 "I wonder," she remarked, "what became of Streuss." 
 
 "He is hiding somewhere in London, without a doubt." 
 Bellamy answered. "There's always plenty of work for 
 spies." 
 
 "Don't use that word," she begged. 
 
 He made a little grimace.
 
 314 HAVOC 
 
 "You are thinking of my own connection with the pro- 
 fession, are you not?" he asked. "Well, that counts for 
 nothing now. I hope I may still serve my country for 
 many years, but it must be in a different way." 
 
 "What do you mean?" she demanded. 
 
 "I heard from my uncle's solicitors this morning," 
 Bellamy continued, "that he is very feeble and cannot 
 live more than a few months. When he dies, of course, I 
 must take my place in the House of Lords. It is his wish 
 that I should not leave England again now, so I suppose 
 there is nothing left for me but to give it up. I have done 
 my share of traveling and work, after all," he concluded, 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "Your share, indeed," she murmured. "Remember 
 that but for that document which was read to the Czar 
 at Windsor, Servia must have gone down, and England 
 would have had to take a place among the second-class 
 Powers. There may be war now, it is true, but it will be 
 a glorious war." 
 
 "Louise, very soon we shall know. Until then I will 
 say nothing. But I do not want you altogether to forget 
 that there has been something in my life dearer to me 
 even than my career for these last few years." 
 
 Her blue eyes were suddenly soft. She looked across 
 towards him wistfully. 
 
 "Dear," she whispered, "things will be altered with 
 you now. I am not fit to be the wife of an English peer 
 I am not noble." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "I am afraid," he assured her, "that I am democrat 
 enough to think you one of the noblest women on earth. 
 W 7 hy should I not? Your life itself has been a study in 
 devotion. The modern virtues seem almost to ignore
 
 THE PLOT THAT FAILED 315 
 
 patriotism, yet the love of one's country is a splendid thing. 
 But don't you think, Louise, that we have done our work 
 that it is time to think of ourselves?" 
 
 She gave him her hand. 
 
 "Let us see," she said. "Let us wait for a little time 
 and see what comes." 
 
 That night another proof of the popular feeling, abso- 
 lutely spontaneous, broke out in one of the least expected 
 places. Louise was encored for her wonderful solo in a 
 modern opera of bellicose trend, and instead of repeating 
 it she came alone on the stage after a few minutes' absence, 
 dressed in Servian national dress. For a short time the 
 costume was not recognized. Then the music the 
 national hymn of Servia, and the recollection of her 
 parentage, brought the thing home to the audience. They 
 did not even wait for her to finish. In the middle of her 
 song the applause broke like a crash of thunder. From 
 the packed gallery to the stalls they cheered her wildly, 
 madly. A dozen times she came before the curtain. It 
 seemed impossible that they would ever let her go. Directly 
 she turned to leave the stage, the uproar broke out again. 
 The manager at last insisted upon it that she should speak 
 a few words. She stood in the centre of the stage amid a 
 silence as complete as the previous applause had been 
 unanimous. Her voice reached easily to every place in 
 the House. 
 
 "I thank you all very much," she said. "I am very 
 happy indeed to be in London, because it is the capital 
 city of the most generous country in the world the 
 country that is always ready to protect and help her weaker 
 neighbors. I am a Servian, and I love my country, and 
 therefore," she added, with a little break in her voice, 
 "therefore I love you all."
 
 3 i6 HAVOC 
 
 It was nearly midnight before the audience was got rid 
 of, and the streets of London had not been so impassable 
 for years. Crowds made their way to the front of Buck- 
 ingham Palace and on to the War Office, where men 
 were working late. Everything seemed to denote that the 
 spirit of the country was roused. The papers next morn- 
 ing made immense capital of the incident, and for the 
 following twenty-four hours suspense throughout the 
 country was almost at fever height. It was known that 
 the Cabinet Council had been sitting for six hours. It 
 was known, too, that without the least commotion, with 
 scarcely any movements of ships that could be called 
 directly threatening, the greatest naval force which the 
 world had ever known was assembling off Dover. The 
 stock markets were wildly excited. Laverick, back again 
 in his office, found that his return to his accustomed 
 haunts occasioned scarcely any comment. More startling 
 events were shaping themselves. His own remarkable ad- 
 venture remained, curiously enough, almost undiscussed. 
 
 He left the office shortly before his usual time, not- 
 withstanding the rush of business, and drove at once to 
 the little house in Theobald Square. Zoe was lying on 
 the sofa, still white, but eager to declare that the pain 
 had gone and that she was no longer suffering. 
 
 "It is too absurd," she declared, smiling, "my having 
 this nurse here. Really, there is nothing whatever the 
 matter with me. I should have gone to the theatre, but 
 you see it is no use." 
 
 She passed him the letter which she had been reading, 
 and which contained her somewhat curt dismissal. He 
 laughed as he tore it into pieces. 
 
 "Are you so sorry, Zoe? Is the stage so wonderful a 
 place that you could not bear to think of leaving it ? "
 
 THE PLOT THAT FAILED 317 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "It is not that," she whispered. "You know that it Is 
 not that." 
 
 He smiled as he took her confidently into his arms. 
 
 "There is a much more arduous life in front of you, 
 dear," he said. "You have to come and look after me 
 for the rest of your days. A bachelor who marries as late 
 in life as I do, you know, is a trying sort of person." 
 
 She shrank away a little. 
 
 "You don't mean it," she murmured. 
 
 "You know very well that I mean it," he answered, 
 kissing her. "I think you knew from the very first that 
 sooner or later you were doomed to become my wife." 
 
 She sighed faintly and half-closed her eyes. For the 
 moment she had forgotten everything. She was abso- 
 lutely and completely happy. 
 
 Later on he made her dress and come out to dinner, 
 and afterwards, as they sat talking, he laid an evening 
 paper before her. 
 
 "Zoe," he declared, "the best thing that could has hap- 
 pened. You will not be foolish, dear, about it, I know. 
 Remember the alternative and read that." 
 
 She glanced at the few lines which announced the 
 finding of Arthur Morrison in a house in Bloomsbury 
 Square. The police had apparently tracked him down, 
 and he had shot himself at the final moment. The details 
 of his last few hours were indescribable. Zoe shuddered, 
 and her eyes filled with tears. She smiled bravely in his 
 face, however. 
 
 "It is terrible," she whispered simply, "but, after all, 
 he was no relation of mine, and he tried to do you a fright- 
 ful injury. When I think of that, I find it hard even to be 
 sorry."
 
 3 i8 HAVOC 
 
 There was indeed almost a pitiless look in her face as 
 she folded up the paper, as though she felt something of 
 that common instinct of her sex which transforms a 
 gentle woman so quickly into a hard, merciless creature 
 when the being whom she loves is threatened. 
 
 Laverick smiled. 
 
 "Let us go out into the streets," he said, "and hear 
 what all this excitement is about." 
 
 They bought a late edition, and there it was at last in 
 black and white. An ultimatum had been presented at 
 Berlin and Vienna. Certain treaty rights which had 
 been broken with regard to Austria's action in the East 
 were insisted upon by Great Britain. It was demanded 
 that Austria should cease the mobilization of her troops 
 upon the Servian frontier, and renounce all rights to a 
 protectorate over that country, whose independence Great 
 Britain felt called upon, from that time forward, to guar- 
 antee. It was further announced that England, France, 
 and Russia were acting in this matter in complete con- 
 cert, and that the neutrality of Italy was assured. Fur- 
 ther, it was known that the great English fleet had left 
 for the North Sea with sealed orders. 
 
 Laverick took Zoe home early and called later at Bel- 
 lamy's rooms. Bellamy greeted him heartily. He was 
 on the point of going out, and the two men drove off 
 together in the latter's car. 
 
 "See, my dear friend," Bellamy exclaimed, "what 
 great things come from small means! The document 
 which you preserved for us, and for which we had to 
 fight so hard, has done all this." 
 
 "It is marvelous!" Laverick murmured. 
 
 "It is very simple," Bellamy declared. "That meet- 
 ing in Vienna was meant to force our hands. It is all a
 
 THE PLOT THAT FAILED 319 
 
 question of the balance of strength, Germany and Austria 
 together, with Russia friendly, even with Russia neu- 
 tral, could have defied Europe. Germany could have 
 spread out her army westwards while Austria seized upon 
 her prey. It was a splendid plot, and it was going very 
 well until the Czar himself was suddenly confronted by 
 our King and his Ministers with a revelation of the whole 
 affair. At Windsor the thing seemed different to him. 
 The French Government behaved splendidly, and the 
 Czar behaved like a man. Germany and Austria are 
 left plante la. If they fight, well, it will be no one-sided 
 affair. They have no fleet, or rather they will have none 
 in a fortnight's time. They have no means of landing 
 an army here. Austria, perhaps, can hold Russia, but 
 with a French army in better shape than it has been for 
 years, and the English landing as many men as they care 
 to do, with ease, anywhere on the norlh coast of Germany, 
 the entire scheme proved abortive. Come into the club 
 and have a drink, Laverick. To-day great things have 
 happened to me." 
 
 "And to me," Laverick interposed. 
 
 "You can guess my news, perhaps," Bellamy said, 
 as they seated themselves in easy-chairs. "Mademoiselle 
 Idiale has promised to be my wife." 
 
 Laverick held out his hand. 
 
 "I congratulate you heartily!" he exclaimed. "I have 
 been an engaged man myself for something like half- 
 an-hour."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 A FAEEWEI/L APPEARANCE 
 
 "ONE thing, at least, these recent adventures should 
 teach whoever may be responsible for the government of 
 this country," Bellamy remarked to his wife, as he laid 
 down the morning paper. "For the first time in many 
 years we have taken the aggressive against Powers of 
 equal standing. We were always rather good at bullying 
 smaller countries, but the bare idea of an ultimatum to 
 Germany would have made our late * Premier go light- 
 headed." 
 
 "And yet it succeeded," Louise reminded him. 
 
 "Absolutely," he affirmed. "To-day's news makes 
 peace a certainty. If your country knew everything, 
 Louise, they'd give us a royal welcome next month." 
 
 "You really mean that we are to go there, then?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "It is n't exactly one of my privileges," he declared, 
 "to fix upon the spot where we shall take our belated 
 honeymoon, but I have n't been in Belgrade for years, 
 and I know you'd like to see your people." 
 
 "It will be more happiness than I ever dreamed of," 
 she murmured. "Do you think we shall be safe in passing 
 through Vienna ? " 
 
 Bellamy laughed. 
 
 "Remember," he said, "that I am no longer David 
 Bellamy, with a silver greyhound attached to my watch- 
 chain and an obnoxious reputation in foreign countries.
 
 FAREWELL APPEARANCE 321 
 
 I am Lord Denchester of Denchester, a harmless English 
 peer traveling on his honeymoon. By the way, I hope 
 you like the title." 
 
 "I shall love it when I get used to it," she declared. 
 "To be an English Countess is dazzling, but I do think 
 that I ought not to go on singing at Covent Garden." 
 
 "To-morrow will be your last night," he reminded her. 
 "I have asked Laverick and the dear little girl he is going 
 to marry to come with me. Afterwards we must all have 
 supper together." 
 
 "How nice of you!" she exclaimed. 
 
 "I don't know about that," Bellamy said, smiling. 
 "I really like Laverick. He is a decent fellow and a 
 good sort. Incidentally, he was thundering useful to us, 
 and pretty plucky about it. He interests me, too, in an- 
 other way. He is a man who, face to face with a moral 
 problem, acted exactly as I should have done myself!" 
 
 "You mean about the twenty thousand pounds?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Bellamy assented. 
 
 "He was practically dishonest," he pointed out. "He 
 had no right to use that money and he ought to have 
 taken the pocket-book to the police-station. If he had 
 done so that is to say, if he had waited there for the 
 police, if he had been seen to hold out that pocket-book, 
 to have discussed it with any one, it is ten to one that there 
 would have been another tragedy that night. At any 
 rate, the document would never have come to us." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "My moral judgment is warped," she asserted, "from 
 the fact that Laverick's decision brought us the document." 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " Perhaps so," he agreed, "and yet, there was the man
 
 322 HAVOC 
 
 face to face with ruin. The use of that money for a few 
 hours did no one any harm, and saved him. I say that 
 such a deed is always a matter of calculation, and in this 
 case that he was justified." 
 
 "I wonder what he really thinks about it himself," she 
 remarked. 
 
 "Perhaps I'll ask him." 
 
 But when the time came, and he sat in the box with 
 Laverick and Zoe, he forgot everything else in the joy of 
 watching the woman whom he had loved so long. She 
 moved about the stage that night as though her feet in- 
 deed fell upon the air. She appeared to be singing always 
 with restraint, yet with some new power in her voice, a 
 quality which even in her simpler notes left the great 
 audience thrilled. Already there was a rumor that it was 
 her last appearance. Her marriage to Bellamy had been 
 that day announced in the Morning Post. When, in the 
 last act, she sang alone on the stage the famous love song, 
 it seemed to them all that although her voice trembled 
 more than once, it was a new thing to which they listened. 
 Zoe found herself clasping Laverick's hand in tremulous 
 excitement. Bellamy sat like a statue, a little back in 
 the box, his clean-cut face thrown into powerful relief by 
 the shadows beyond. Yet, as he listened, his eyes, too, 
 were marvelously soft. The song grew and grew till, 
 with the last notes, the whole story of an exquisite and 
 expectant passion seemed trembling in her voice. The 
 last note came from her lips almost as though unwillingly, 
 and was prolonged for an extraordinary period. When 
 it died away, its passing seemed something almost un- 
 realizable. It quivered away into a silence which lasted 
 for many seconds before the gathering rear of applause 
 swept the house. And in those last few seconds she had
 
 FAREWELL APPEARANCE 323 
 
 turned and faced Bellamy. Their eyes met, and the light 
 which flashed from his seemed answered by the quivering 
 of her throat. It was her good-bye. She was singing a 
 new love-song, singing her way into the life of the man 
 whom she loved, singing her way into love itself. Once 
 more the great house, packed to the ceiling, was worked 
 up to a state of frenzied excitement. Bellamy was recog- 
 nized, and the significance of her song sent a wave of 
 sentiment through the house whose only possible form 
 of expression took to itself shape in the frantic greetings 
 which called her to the front again and again. But the 
 three in the box were silent. Bellamy stood back in the 
 shadows. Laverick and Zoe seemed suddenly to become 
 immersed in themselves. Bellamy threw open the door 
 of the box and pointed outside. 
 
 "At Luigi's in half-an-hour," said he softly. "You will 
 excuse me for a few minutes ? I am going to Louise." 
 
 THE END
 
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