The Complete Works of H. C. McNeile "Sapper". Sapper
letter can wait," he said courteously. "It is not the least important. Let us go and have a whisky-and-soda, and for what it is worth my knowledge is at your disposal."
And so without any exaggeration, but at the same time with some fullness, Jim told Prince Selim exactly what had taken place in the Temple of the Sacred Crocodile. Some of the details I put in, but by the time we had both finished he had every fact in his possession.
"You actually threw this priest into the pool yourself?" he said, when we had finished.
"I did," said Jim grimly. "And if I'd had time I'd have thrown the rest. The point, Prince, is this. Are those letters bluff or not?"
"Most emphatically not," answered the Prince promptly. "I, of course, have heard of that sect, and you may take it from me that you only encountered the outside fringe of it. But even so, you have been instrumental in killing a priest who is very highly placed. And that they will never forgive. Whether or not they will be able to carry out their purpose in England is a different matter; they will assuredly try."
"What—to kill the lot of us?" said Jim.
"Certainly," said the Prince calmly. "And deeply as I regret to have to say so, my friend, I wouldn't be at all surprised if they succeeded."
Jim's jaw came out.
"We'll see about that," he remarked quietly. "And in the meantime, Prince, what do you suggest we should do?"
"There is nothing to do," he answered. "Sooner or later they will find you, wherever you hide yourselves; then it will be you or them."
"Hide! Hide ourselves!" Jim stared at him in amazement. "My dear fellow—what an extraordinary flight of fancy. What in the name of fortune should we hide ourselves for?"
The Prince waved a deprecating hand.
"Possibly I expressed myself a little infelicitously," he murmured. "I assure you, my friend, I intended no reflection on your courage. That, so I understand from our most excellent captain, is beyond dispute. But, for all that—"
He broke off with a little characteristic movement of his shoulders, and carefully selected a cigarette from his gold case.
"You can take it from me, Prince," said Jim quietly, "that as far as I am concerned, I don't propose to go into seclusion. But with regard to Miss Tremayne, the matter is altogether different. And if you think her life is in danger we had better take some steps about it. Somewhat naturally, she knows nothing of these two warning letters, and one doesn't want to alarm her unnecessarily."
"Precisely," said the Prince. "That is quite obvious." He leant back in his chair and blew out a long cloud of smoke, while we watched him a little anxiously.
"I will tell you what I suggest," he said at length. "It is possible that I may be wrong altogether, in which case there is no necessity to do anything. If, on the other hand, I am not wrong, and you become aware that they are after you, then come and see me. I will give yon my address, and possibly I may be of assistance. But it is no use our attempting to evolve any scheme now, when we have no idea what to be on our guard against. Therefore, let us leave it until we have got an idea, and then—well, three heads are better than two."
"I call that devilish sporting of you, Prince," said Jim heartily. "And I'm quite sure that we accept your offer with gratitude—don't we, Dick?"
"Certainly," I agreed. "And in the meantime you don't think there is any need to alarm Miss Tremayne, or take any special precautions on her behalf?"
"I do not," said Prince Selim. "If the attempt is made at all, I feel tolerably certain that it will be made in London." A moment or two later he rose and left us.
"That was a brain-wave of yours, Dick," said Jim, as we watched him sauntering back to the writing-room. "'Pon my soul, it's extraordinary good of the fellow. All we can do is to hope that we shan't have to avail ourselves of his kindness."
* * * * *
It was just a week after we reached London that the blow fell. I, certainly, as day by day went by and nothing happened, had been lulled into a false sense of security. The half-naked priests of that foul pool in Egypt seemed so utterly incongruous in the crowded streets that sometimes I almost believed it had all been a dream. And once or twice with a feeling of inward amusement I wondered what would be the result if I told the story at my club. To Podgers, for choice, of the firm of Podgers & Podgers—a chartered accountant of blameless life. Great Scott! I could see his face as he listened.
And yet, in London itself, in a house in the middle of Mayfair there took place a thing more amazing, more horrible by the very reason of the surroundings, than anything that had happened by the Nile. There, at any rate, the setting was appropriate, but in London it appeared even at the time to be unreal and incredible. To me—for I was destined to fill the role of spectator—it seemed as if I were watching some Grand Guignol play. But it was no play; it was grim reality—a little too grim.
As I say, it was a week after we reached London that it happened. I had been out all the afternoon shopping with Molly. She and I were going to a theatre that night, and, after seeing her to her hotel, I had returned to my club to dress. And I found Jim waiting for me in a state of unconcealed impatience.
"I thought you were never coming, Dick," he cried as soon as he saw me. "Take me somewhere where we can talk."
I led the way to a small card-room which was luckily unoccupied.
"What is it?" I said. "Further developments?" He nodded.
"You know I gave Selim my address? Until this afternoon I'd heard nothing from him, and nothing had happened on our side to make me get in touch with him. In fact, I was beginning to think the whole thing was a leg-pull. An hour ago I was told that someone wanted me on the telephone, and it turned out to be the Prince." Jim stared at me gravely. "It's evidently no leg-pull, Dick."
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He started off with a bright, chatty little remark," said Jim grimly. "The first thing he said when he heard my voice was, 'Thank heaven you're still alive.'"
"' Never better,' I assured him.
"He didn't beat about the bush at all, but came straight to the point. You're in the most deadly peril,' he said, in the same sort of voice as you'd ask someone out to dinner. 'I've just received information,' he went on, from a source that is open to me, which it is absolutely imperative you should know at once. It is too long to tell you over the telephone even if I dared.'
"Well, that sounded a jolly sort of beginning, and I asked him what he suggested as the next move. He'd got everything cut and dried, and it boiled down to this.
"You and I are to go round to his house this evening at nine o'clock precisely. The time is important, as he will then arrange that his Arab butler is out. That little precaution is for his benefit. He told me it would be signing his own death sentence if it were known he was warning us. He will then tell us exactly what he has found out, and it will be up to us after that.
"Molly—because I immediately asked about her—is perfectly safe for the next twelve hours. He further asked if we would both be good enough to preserve absolute silence as to where we were going. That— also for his sake.
"In fact, he made no bones about it. By doing what he was going to do he was running a very grave risk, and, somewhat naturally, he wants that risk minimised as much as possible. Which is quite understandable, because, after all, there's really no call on the fellow to do anything at all for us."
"None whatever," I agreed. "However, I must go and ring Molly at once, and tell her I can't go tonight. And after that you'd better stop and have an early dinner with me."
All through that meal we discussed it fruitlessly. What could it be—this danger that threatened us? The whole thing seemed so fantastic in the comfortable dining-room of a London club. And then, just as we had advanced the sixth wild guess, I saw one of the page-boys coming towards me.
"There's a black man as wants to see you, sir, in the 'all."