The Closing Net. Henry Cottrell Rowland

Tondeur, as he was known, the women souris d'hôtel and herself. I would tell her in strong terms that they had played it rotten low on me. Here was I, who a few weeks before had got myself pinched to save their hides, being used as a shield for them to crawl behind when they stole pearls from the house of the people who had saved me a life sentence. This would be a dangerous game for me, I knew, but I never scared worth a cent, and by the time I got to the office I was so tearing mad that I asked nothing better than to take on the whole slimy gang.

      So I sent Léontine a pneumatique to say that she could take her choice between meeting me at Bagatelle the next morning at eleven or later in the day at the Prefecture of Police. I knew that she might not be able to get away from Kharkoff in the afternoon or evening, but as he was A.D.C. to one of the Grand Dukes and supposed to report every morning before mid-day, the chances were that the girl could manage a morning rendezvous.

      That night, at about eleven, I went into the Automobile Club. There was a baccarat game already going, and meeting an acquaintance, who was manager of a motor concern near our office, the pair of us ​strolled in to watch the play. Almost the first person my eyes rested on was John. His back was turned to us, but my acquaintance had recognised him also and said to me:

      "There is your patron, M. Clamart. You will have to sell a good many cars to pay for his game of last night."

      "Really?" I answered carelessly. "Was it as bad as that?"

      "I heard that his losses were about forty thousand francs," said he.

      I shrugged. "M. Cuttynge told me that he had been unlucky," I said; "but he spoke of his losses as trifling."

      "I myself saw him lose thirty thousand," says my friend; "but these Americans and Russians do not think much of a sum like that. Kharkoff was the heavy winner. He won over eighty thousand francs."

      "Do you think that he will play to-night?" I asked.

      "It is probable. They told me to-day in his garage on the Rue Guyot, that he was off for London to-morrow in his car."

      "Alone?" I asked.

      "Probably 'la femme du dlable' will go with him. But since Kharkoff is going to London to-morrow, to-night will be his last chance to play, and he will probably play high. It will be interesting to watch."

      I assented, and we turned our attention to the game. But my mind was not on the table. I was thinking of John and his loss of the night before; a loss that he could ill afford, as we needed ​every cent that could be scraped together for our business. But what interested me even more was Kharkoff's journey to London. I had little doubt that Léontine would take the pearls with her, to dispose of in England. If the Prince were to make an early start for the run to Boulogne, Léontine might not be able to meet me at Bagatelle—or at least, this would be so difficult that she might prefer to run the risk of my fulfilling my threat.

      If possible, then, I must manage to see her that very night. It seemed likely that Kharkoff would want to follow up his luck at the tables, and, having once started to play, he might be counted on as a fixture until the game closed. This would give me a chance to see Léontine; and, for that matter, the sooner I had it out with her over the pearls the better.

      So I found an inconspicuous corner near the door and waited. As the game proceeded it appeared that John was winning, and I decided to have a straight talk with him the next day and try to persuade him to leave baccarat alone. The chances were, I thought, that if he managed to recoup to any extent he would listen to reason, being a good-natured sort of chap and not hard to influence.

      A little after midnight there was a sudden stir in one room and the crowd not playing turned to look over their shoulders. "Le Prince," I heard, and here was Kharkoff's big bulk at my shoulder. He crowded in to reach the table, and I slipped out and made for the street.

      "And now," said I to myself, "for Léontine."