The Angel of Terror

by Edgar Wallace

  Chapter XXXIV

  There was lying in Monaco harbour a long white boat with a stumpy mast,which delighted in the name of _Jungle Queen_. It was the property of animpecunious English nobleman who made a respectable income from lettingthe vessel on hire.

  Mrs. Cole-Mortimer had seemed surprised at the reasonable fee demandedfor two months' use until she had seen the boat the day after herarrival at Cap Martin.

  She had pictured a large and commodious yacht; she found a reasonablysized motor-launch with a whale-deck cabin. The description in theagent's catalogue that the _Jungle Queen_ would "sleep four" wasprobably based on the experience of a party of young roisterers who hadonce hired the vessel. Supposing that the "four" were reasonably drunkor heavily drugged, it was possible for them to sleep on board the_Jungle Queen_. Normally two persons would have found it difficult,though by lying diagonally across the "cabin" one small-sized man couldhave slumbered without discomfort.

  The _Jungle Queen_ had been a disappointment to Jean also. Her busybrain had conceived an excellent way of solving her principal problem,but a glance at the _Jungle Queen_ told her that the money she had spenton hiring the launch--and it was little better--was wasted. She herselfhated the sea and had so little faith in the utility of the boat, thatshe had even dismissed the youth who attended to its well-worn engines.

  Mr. Marcus Stepney, who was mildly interested in motor-boating, andconsiderably interested in any form of amusement which he could get atsomebody else's expense, had so far been the sole patron of the _JungleQueen_. It was his practice to take the boat out every morning for a twohours' sail, generally alone, though sometimes he would take somebodywhose acquaintance he had made, and who was destined to be a source ofprofit to him in the future.

  Jean's talk of the cave-man method of wooing had made a big impressionupon him, emphasised as it had been, and still was, by the two angry redscars across the back of his hand. Things were not going well with him;the supply of rich and trusting youths had suddenly dried up. The littlegames in his private sitting-room had dwindled to feeble proportions. Hewas still able to eke out a living, but his success at his privateseances had been counter-balanced by heavy losses at the public tables.

  It is a known fact that people who live outside the law keep to theirown plane. The swindler very rarely commits acts of violence. Theburglar who practises card-sharping as a side-line, is virtuallyunknown.

  Mr. Stepney lived on a plausible tongue and a pair of highly dexteroushands. It had never occurred to him to go beyond his own sphere, andindeed violence was as repugnant to him as it was vulgar.

  Yet the cave-man suggestion appealed to him. He had a way with women ofa certain kind, and if his confidence had been rather shaken by Jean'ssavagery and Lydia's indifference, he had not altogether abandoned thehope that both girls in their turn might be conquered by the adoption ofthe right method.

  The method for dealing with Jean he had at the back of his mind.

  As for Lydia--Jean's suggestion was very attractive. It was after a veryheavily unprofitable night spent at the Nice Casino, that he took hiscourage in both hands and drove to the Villa Casa.

  He was an early arrival, but Lydia had already finished her _petitedejeuner_ and she was painfully surprised to see him.

  "I'm not swimming to-day, Mr. Stepney," she said, "and you don't lookas if you were either."

  He was dressed in perfectly fitting white duck trousers, white shoes,and a blue nautical coat with brass buttons; a yachtsman's cap was setat an angle on his dark head.

  "No, I'm going out to do a little fishing," he said, "and I waswondering whether, in your charity, you would accompany me."

  She shook her head.

  "I'm sorry--I have another engagement this morning," she said.

  "Can't you break it?" he pleaded, "as an especial favour to me? I'vemade all preparations and I've got a lovely lunch on board--you said youwould come fishing with me one day."

  "I'd like to," she confessed, "but I really have something veryimportant to do this morning."

  She did not tell him that her important duty was to sit on the Lovers'Chair. Somehow her trip seemed just a little silly in the cold clearlight of morning.

  "I could have you back in time," he begged. "Do come along, Mrs.Meredith! You're going to spoil my day."

  "I'm sure Lydia wouldn't be so unkind."

  Jean had made her appearance as they were speaking.

  "What is the scheme, Lydia?"

  "Mr. Stepney wants me to go out in the yacht," said the girl, and Jeansmiled.

  "I'm glad you call it a 'yacht,'" she said dryly. "You're the secondperson who has so described it. The first was the agent. Take herto-morrow, Marcus."

  There was a glint of amusement in her eyes, and he felt that she knewwhat was at the back of his mind.

  "All right," he said in a tone which suggested that it was anything butall right, and added, "I saw you flying through Nice this morning withthat yellow-faced chauffeur of yours, Jean."

  "Were you up so early?" she asked carelessly.

  "I wasn't dressed, I was looking out of the window--my room faces thePromenade d'Anglaise. I don't like that fellow."

  "I shouldn't let him know," said Jean coolly. "He is very sensitive.There are so many fellows that you dislike, too."

  "I don't think you ought to allow him so much freedom," Marcus Stepneywent on. He was not in an amiable frame of mind, and the knowledge thathe was annoying the girl encouraged him. "If you give these Frenchchauffeurs an inch they'll take a kilometre."

  "I suppose they would," said Jean thoughtfully. "How is your poor hand,Marcus?"

  He growled something under his breath and thrust his hand deep into thepocket of his reefer coat.

  "It is quite well," he snapped, and went back to Monaco and his solitaryboat trip, flaming.

  "One of these days ..." he muttered, as he tuned up the motor. He didnot finish his sentence, but sent the nose of the _Jungle Queen_ at fullspeed for the open sea.

  Jean's talk with Mordon that morning had not been wholly satisfactory.She had calmed his suspicions to an extent, but he still harped upon theletter, and she had promised to give it to him that evening.

  "My dear," she said, "you are too impulsive--too Gallic. I had aterrible scene with father last night. He wants me to break off theengagement; told me what my friends in London would say, and how Ishould be a social outcast."

  "And you--you, Jean?" he asked.

  "I told him that such things did not trouble me," she said, and her lipsdrooped sadly. "I know I cannot be happy with anybody but you, Francois,and I am willing to face the sneers of London, even the hatred and scornof my father, for your sake."

  He would have seized her hand, though they were in the open road, butshe drew away from him.

  "Be careful, Francois," she warned him.

  "Remember that you have a very little time to wait."

  "I cannot believe my good fortune," he babbled, as he brought the car upthe gentle incline into Monte Carlo. He dodged an early morning tram,missing an unsuspecting passenger, who had come round the back of thetram-car, by inches, and set the big Italia up the palm avenue into thetown.

  "It is incredible, and yet I always thought some great thing wouldhappen to me, and, Jean, I have risked so much for you. I would havekilled Madame in London if she had not been dragged out of the way bythat old man, and did I not watch for you when the man Meredith----"

  "Hush," she said in a low voice. "Let us talk about something else."

  "Shall I see your father? I am sorry for what I did last night," he saidwhen they were nearing the villa.

  "Father has taken his motor-bicycle and gone for a trip into Italy," shesaid. "No, I do not think I should speak to him, even if he were here.He may come round in time, Francois. You can understand that it isterribly distressing; he hoped I would make a great marriage. You mustallow for father's disappointment."

  He nodded. He did not drive her to the house, but stopped outsid
e thegarage.

  "Remember, at half-past ten you will take Madame Meredith to the Lovers'Chair--you know the place?"

  "I know it very well," he said. "It is a difficult place to turn--I musttake her almost into San Remo. Why does she want to go to the Lovers'Chair? I thought only the cheap people went there----"

  "You must not tell her that," she said sharply. "Besides, I myself havebeen there."

  "And who did you think of, Jean?" he asked suddenly.

  She lowered her eyes.

  "I will not tell you--now," she said, and ran into the house.

  Francois stood gazing after her until she had disappeared, and then,like a man waking from a trance, he turned to the mundane business offilling his tank.