30 Suspense and Thriller Masterpieces. Гилберт Кит Честертон

waiter stepped forward.

      "I think he went to the Courcelles Station; he asked me where it was."

      "The Courcelles Station!"

      Juve stood staring in amazement. What on earth could Wulf want to go there for?

      "Have you a telephone?" he asked.

      "Yes, Monsieur."

      With great difficulty Juve succeeded in getting the connection.

      "Hullo! Is that your Majesty?"

      Fandor's voice replied, laughingly:

      "Yes, it's His Majesty all right, but His Majesty doesn't like being wakened up at night. What can I do for you, my dear Juve?"

      "Can you tell me where Wulf is?"

      "How should I know? Probably with some women, he seems crazy about them."

      "No, he hasn't any French money."

      "Hold on, Juve; I advised him to take the circular tube as the best method of seeing Paris. I told him to stay on board till he reached the end of the line. Just a little joke of mine."

      Fandor burst out laughing, and Juve rang off, angrily.

      Once in the street, he stood a moment in doubt as to his next course. If Wulf was really taking a trip in the circular tube, he would be in process of going round and round Paris. How was it possible to overtake him?

      Hailing a taxi, he explained to the chauffeur:

      "Look here, I want you to take me to the Courcelles Station … there we must find out in what direction the first train passes, either toward Porte Maillot or toward the Avenue de Clichy … "

      The man stared stupidly and Juve found it necessary to explain in a few words the quest he was setting out upon.

      "If our man isn't on the first train that passes Courcelles, then we must hurry over to the Bois de Boulogne Station, understand?"

      Juve had the luck to learn from the ticket seller at Courcelles that she had noticed Wulf, and that he had bought a first-class ticket; this limited the search very considerably.

      The first train pulled in, but Wulf was not on board.

      Juve sprang into his taxi and now hurried over to the Bois de Boulogne. Here the same result met him; the next station was Auteuil, then Vaugirard, la Glacière and Bel-Air.

      It was now eight o'clock, and his appointment with M. Annion was at eleven. What was to be done?

      On reaching Menilmontant Station, Juve had about decided to abandon the chase.

      "I'll wait for one more train and then make some other plan," he muttered.

      By great good luck he caught sight of Wulf as it ran into the station. Rushing into the carriage, he seized his man and hauled him on to the platform.

      "What's the matter? Why are you here, Monsieur Juve? I am perfectly amazed … "

      "Where are you going, Monsieur Wulf?"

      Wulf smiled fatuously:

      "I have been following his Majesty's advice, seeing Paris. What an immense city! I counted one hundred and twenty-seven stations since five o'clock this morning and I have crossed ten rivers! Why have you stopped me? I wanted to go to the end of the line."

      Juve bustled him into the waiting taxi.

      "I'll explain as we go," he replied. "It is a question of saving the King. He is menaced by powerful and terrible enemies."

      "I am ready to die for him," exclaimed Wulf. "What must I do?"

      "Oh, it's not necessary to die. All you have to do is to certify before the police authorities that the person you know as Frederick-Christian at the Royal Palace is actually the King."

      "I don't understand in the least what you mean!"

      "That doesn't matter; you have only to do as I say and all will be well."

      M. Annion was overcome.

      Wulf, after testifying to the identity of the King, had been sent to wait in an adjoining room while Juve and M. Annion had a confidential chat.

      "Well, Juve, I can't get over it. Without you, I should have made a terrible break! The King arrested! What a scandal! But, tell me, what's to be done now? The public's calling for the murderer. I place myself in your hands. What do you suggest?"

      Juve thought a moment.

      For the time being Fandor was safe, but he was still very far from being out of the woods.

      "Monsieur Annion," he replied at length, "there is just one method of procedure in this case. The assassination of Susy d'Orsel, the question of this imposture, in fact all these mysterious points which have arisen cannot be cleared up in Paris."

      "What the devil do you mean, Juve?"

      "I mean that in all probability the threads of this intrigue lead to Hesse-Weimar, to the capital of the kingdom, to Glotzbourg. And, if you have no objection, I will start for there this evening."

      "Go, go," replied M. Annion; "perhaps you are right … anyhow, don't forget to take letters of introduction with you."

      "Oh, don't worry about that. I can get all I want from my colleague."

      "Your colleague?"

      "Yes, from this excellent Wulf."

      Chapter 12 CAMOUFLAGE

      "Come in and sit down, Monsieur Wulfenmimenglaschk."

      The Marquis de Sérac led the way into his study.

      He was a powerfully built, white-haired man, in the sixties, still active, with a slightly tired voice, a typical man of the world in his manners and dress.

      Very embarrassed, Wulf bowed and bowed:

      "I am confused, Monsieur. Quite confused … I … "

      "Not at all, Monsieur Wulf; now take off your overcoat, sit down and smoke a cigar. I assure you it's a great pleasure for me to talk to anyone coming from Hesse-Weimar. I left the court when I was very young, and I should be a stranger in Glotzbourg to-day; still I remember my very good friends there … but never mind that now, we have more important subjects to discuss, Monsieur Wulf, and I'm sure you are in a hurry."

      "Oh, not at all; I am only too happy and too proud … "

      "Yes, yes, Paris is a city of temptations, and I won't take too much of your time. First of all let me explain that I only received your letter yesterday, as I happened to be out of town. You state that I am in a position to render you a great service; this I shall be delighted to do as soon as you tell me what it is."

      Wulf began a long and rambling story to the effect that upon leaving Glotzbourg for Paris, on his special mission to the King, he had conceived the idea of writing to the Marquis de Sérac, whom he knew to be an intimate friend of the King, to give him a letter of introduction to His Majesty.

      "But now I don't need it," he ended, "for the King is my best friend … he received me with charming simplicity, just like an old comrade."

      "Alas, my dear Wulf, His Majesty is at present exposed to the most terrible danger."

      "What do you mean?"

      "You have doubtless heard of the tragic death of Mlle. Susy d'Orsel, the King's mistress, which, by a curious coincidence, occurred in this very house?"

      "I know! I know!"

      "Well, perhaps you also know that among the King's enemies, some dare to accuse him of having killed Mlle. Susy d'Orsel?"

      "Oh! Such people ought to be cut in pieces."

      "Alas, Monsieur Wulf, we are not yet in a position to avenge His Majesty. You don't happen to know who the real murderer