Part 51 (1/2)

There was no reply. Laverick remained speechless, listening intently. He stood still with the receiver pressed to his ear. Was it his fancy, or was that really Zoe's protesting voice which he heard in the background? It was a woman or a child who was speaking--he was almost sure that it was Zoe.

”Who are you?” he asked fiercely. ”Miss Leneveu is there with you.

Why does she not speak for herself?”

”Miss Leneveu is not here,” was the answer. ”I have done what she desired. You can please yourself whether you go or not. The address is 25, Jermyn Street. Ring off.”

The connection was gone. Laverick laid down the receiver and stepped out of the booth.

”I must be off at once,” he said to Bellamy. ”You'll be round in the morning?”

Bellamy smiled.

”After all,” he remarked, ”I have changed my plans. I shall not leave the hotel. I am going to telephone round to my man to bring me some clothes. By the bye, do you mind telling me whether this message which you have just received had anything to do with the little affair in which we are interested?”

”Not directly,” Laverick answered, after a moment's hesitation.

”The message was from a young lady. I have to go and meet her.”

”A young lady whom you can trust?” Bellamy inquired quietly.

”Implicitly,” Laverick a.s.sured him.

”She spoke herself?”

”No, she sent a message. Excuse me, Bellamy, won't you, but I must really go.”

”By all means,” Bellamy answered.

They stood at the entrance to the hotel together while a taxicab was summoned. Laverick stepped quickly in.

”25, Jermyn Street,” he ordered.

Bellamy watched him drive off. Then he sighed.

”I think, my friend Laverick,” he said softly, ”that you will need some one to look after you to-night.”

CHAPTER x.x.xII

MORRISON IS DESPERATE

Certainly it was a strange little gathering that waited in Morrison's room for the coming of Laverick. There was La.s.sen--flushed, ugly, breathing heavily, and watching the door with fixed, beady eyes.

There was Adolf Kahn, the man who had strolled out from the Milan Hotel as Laverick had entered it, leaving the forged order behind him. There was Streuss--stern, and desperate with anxiety. There was Morrison himself, in the clothes of a workman, worn to a shadow, with the furtive gleam of terrified guilt s.h.i.+ning in his sunken eyes, and the slouched shoulders and broken mien of the habitual criminal. There was Zoe, around whom they were all standing, with anger burning in her cheeks and gleaming out of her pa.s.sion-filled eyes. She, too, like the others, watched the door. So they waited.

Streuss, not for the first time, moved to the window and drawing aside the curtains looked down into the street.

”Will he come--this Englishman?” he muttered. ”Has he courage?”

”More courage than you who keep a girl here against her will!” Zoe panted, looking at him defiantly. ”More courage than my poor brother, who stands there like a coward!”

”Shut up, Zoe!” Morrison exclaimed harshly. ”There is nothing for you to be furious about or frightened. No one wants to ill-treat you. These gentlemen all want to behave kindly to us. It is Laverick they want.”