The Mysterious Three

by William Le Queux

number ofboard-meetings in progress simultaneously, but for the fact that in thecentre of each table sat men in funereal black who, at intervals, dronedmonotonously through their noses--

  "_Messieurs, faites vos jeux_."

  And then a little later--

  "_Rien n'va plus_!"

  Then the click of the ball, and the jingle of money lost and won.

  It was one of the greatest disillusionments I have ever experienced.There was nothing in the least exciting, nothing sensational. There wasa rustle of notes, and the whole scene was sordid, debasing. I canremember only one other disillusionment that has given me so great ashock. I experienced that the first time I visited Niagara Falls. Ihad seen pictures in plenty of the Falls, and had based thereon my ideaof what the Falls would look like when I got there.

  I arrived at noon, eager to gaze upon "Nature's Marvellous Phenomenon,"as the booklet of the Railway Company described it. The first thing Isaw was a truly gigantic hoarding-board advertising somebody'slung-tonic, alongside it one recommending some one else's BloodCapsules, and then, whichever way I looked, the landscape, which shouldhave been gorgeous, was disfigured by similar announcements. Even thewater was spoilt, for some of the falls being harnessed to dye-works,ran in shades of dirty greens and reds and yellows, and when I wanted togo under the main Falls I found I must buy a ticket at a box-office andgo down in a lift. Never, I remember thinking, have the words, "Whereonly man is vile," been more applicable than at Niagara.

  But this is an aside. Elated at my success at roulette, a game whichgenerally bores me, for I generally lose, I suggested to Faulkner thatwe should go together to some haunt of amusement more exhilarating thanthe Casino.

  "What about the ball down in La Condamine to-night?" he asked, lookingat me oddly.

  "Ball?" I said. "What ball? I didn't know there was one."

  "Oh, yes there is. It isn't an aristocratic ball, you know. Far fromit. I've lived out here a good deal, and got to know my way about. Itis rather an expensive form of amusement, but as you have made twohundred and fifty-six pounds in ten minutes, you may as well spend apound or two that way as any other. I think you will afterwards admitit has been an `experience'."

  I did admit it--and a great deal besides. It was the most"unconventional" ball I had ever attended, or have attended since. Wepicked up a number of acquaintances, eight or ten in all, and wentboisterously down to La Condamine. The gay supper was most enjoyable.Most of the women's dresses were suitable for warm climates, beingconspicuous by their scantiness, rather than by their beauty. Some worethe black _loup_ over their eyes. At supper I sat beside a girl whoseidentity was thus concealed. She had a wonderful figure, and her thickdark hair hung in two long plaits down below her waist. About hermovements there was something that seemed familiar to me, and in vain Itried to recollect when I had met her before, and where. At last mycuriosity outran my discretion.

  "Take off your mask," I said to her in French. "I'll give you twolouis."

  "Give them to me," she said, also in French, the only language she hadtalked, "and I will take it off."

  I did so.

  "Don't be too surprised," she exclaimed in broken English with a rippleof laughter. She pulled up the mask, then twisted it off, and I foundmyself seated beside Lady Thorold's maid, Judith, whom I had last seenat the hotel on the night the Baronne de Coudron had arrived.

  I confess that I was considerably annoyed.

  I am not, I am thankful to think, one of those men who like to behaveabsurdly with domestic servants, especially with other people'sservants.

  I had never liked this girl, she had always struck me as beinghypocritical and designing, and though now she looked extremely pretty,judged by a certain standard, I could not dispel from my thoughts thepicture of the demure maid with downcast eyes, whom a casual observerprobably would not have looked at twice.

  Her manner was the reverse of demure, nor were her eyes downcast. Theystruck me as being the most brazen eyes I had seen for a long time asthey gazed unflinchingly up into my own. Much as I knew, I dislikedher, I could not, at that moment, help noticing those strangely darkeyes of hers, now so full of laughter and wickedness; also the singularevenness of the small white teeth; the natural redness of the full lips;the clear, olive complexion, and the thick mantle of long, blue-blackhair. Yet I did not admire her in the least. Oh, no. If herappearance struck me as remarkable and not wholly unpleasing, it wasonly for a brief instant.

  "Have you left Lady Thorold's service?" I asked, loud enough for othersto hear. I thought that, at any rate, would be a nasty snub. Instead,she laughed immoderately. So, to my surprise, did her friends who hadoverheard my question.

  "Ah, monsieur, but you are too _drole_!" she exclaimed, as she stoppedlaughing. "I was not in Lady Thorold's service, or in la Baronne deCoudron's or in anybody else's. I have never been in service. I--inservice? _I_? Pah!"

  She made a gesture of contempt.

  "I don't understand," I said.

  "I was Lady Thorold's friend, her very intimate friend, and la Baronnede Coudron's too, and--and other people's. I am no _servant_, I assureyou! m'sieur."

  I stared at her.

  "You little impostor!" I said after a pause.

  She laughed, and took my arm confidingly.

  "I have always liked you, I have really," she said in a coaxingundertone. "You are not like other men. You are not always trying tomake love to everybody. _Ma foi_! How I detest some of yourcountrymen, they make themselves too ridiculous when they come toFrance."

  "You seem to know a lot about them," I answered, for want of somethingbetter to say.

  "_Bien_! I can assure you!" she replied, to my surprise, quitebitterly. Then she said quickly, in her broken English as thoughanxious to change the subject--

  "You want Mademoiselle Vera--eh?"

  "What do you mean?" I gasped, amazed.

  "What I say. You want her. Well, she is quite near here."

  "Near here!"

  "_Mais oui_. Pay me enough, and I will take you to her--now."

  I was panting with excitement. With an effort I controlled myself. Itwas clear to me that this woman knew a great deal. She might indeed beable to clear up the whole mystery of Houghton Park if she were paidenough, perhaps also the mystery connected with Chateau d'Uzerche.

  Yes, I would humour her. If it became necessary, I would pay her thehighest sum she might ask for, that I was in a position to pay. Butfirst to meet my darling again. How I longed to see her once more,after all those mysterious happenings!

  "How much do you want?" I asked abruptly.

  She named an absurdly large sum. Eventually we came to terms, and Ipaid her in French notes.

  "_Tres bien_!" she said, as she stuffed the money into some queer cornerin her brief skirt. "You are a gentilhomme, not like ze others. _Maisoui_."

  Then she rose, signalled to me with her eyes, and I followed her out ofthe room.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  MORE REVELATIONS.

  Eagerly I strode out after her.

  We went a short distance along the road to the left, then turned againto the left and halted before a large white house. Up two flights ofstairs she led me, along a short corridor, and through two rooms. Sheopened the door at the further end of the second room, and then motionedto me to enter.

  Seated at a table, playing cards, were Paulton, Violet de Coudron, VeraThorold and the Baronne. Violet and Vera were in evening gowns--Vera inturquoise blue. The sight of the Baronne sitting there, alive anduninjured, so astounded me that I remained speechless. Paulton sprangfiercely to his feet.

  "Who brought you up here?" he exclaimed furiously. "Who?"

  The door had remained open. A ripple of laughter behind me made me casta hurried glance that way, and I saw Judith convulsed with amusement.She recovered her composure in a few moments, and came in.

  "I have carried out my threat," she said in French quickly, addressingPaulton.
"You brought it entirely upon yourself by your niggardliness.Mr. Ashton is generous--and a gentilhomme."

  Paulton clenched his fist.

  "Yes," the French girl went on, looking at him fearlessly, "you arequite right to restrain yourself. It would be a bad night's work if atragedy were to happen _here_. At the chateau it was different. Youhad it your own way there--up to a point."

  The man became blasphemous, and I saw Vera wince. Her eyes were setupon mine, in mute appeal.

  The truth flashed in upon me. Paulton ran this private gamingestablishment. The Baronne presumably was his partner. Judith was anaccomplice. But the two girls? What part did they play? It washorrible finding Vera here, yet my faith in her never wavered. I