Part 25 (1/2)

”Very good, sir,” the man answered. ”How long am I to wait here for you?”

Peter Ruff's lips twisted into a curious little smile.

”Until two o'clock,” he answered. ”If I am not out by then, you needn't bother any more about me. You can return and tell your mistress exactly what has happened.”

”Hadn't I better come and try and get you out, sir?” the man asked.

”Begging your pardon, but her Ladys.h.i.+p told me that there might be queer doings. I'm a bit useful in a sc.r.a.p, sir,” he added. ”I do a bit of sparring regularly.”

Peter Ruff shook his head.

”If there's any sc.r.a.p at all,” he said, ”you had better be out of it. Do as I have said.”

The motor car had turned round and disappeared now, and in a few moments Peter Ruff stood before the door of the house into which the little lady had disappeared. The problem of entrance was already solved for him. The door had been left unlatched; only a footstool had been placed against it inside. Peter Ruff, without hesitation, pushed the door softly open and entered, replaced the footstool in its former position, and stood with his back to the wall, in the darkest corner of the hall, looking around him--listening intently. Nearly opposite the door of a room stood ajar. It was apparently lit up, but there was no sound of any one moving inside. Upstairs, in one of the rooms on the first floor, he could hear light footsteps--a woman's voice humming a song. He listened to the first few bars, and understanding became easier. Those first few bars were the opening ones of the Servian national anthem!

With an effort, Peter Ruff concentrated his thoughts upon the immediate present. The little lady was upstairs. The servants had apparently retired for the night. He crept up to the half-open door and peered in.

The room, as he had hoped to find it, was empty, but Madame's easy-chair was drawn up to the fire, and some coffee stood upon the hob. Stealthily Peter Ruff crept in and glanced around, seeking for a hiding place. A movement upstairs hastened his decision. He pushed aside the ma.s.sive curtains which separated this from a connecting room. He had scarcely done so when light footsteps were heard descending the stairs.

Peter Ruff found his hiding place all that could have been desired. This secondary room itself was almost in darkness, but he was just able to appreciate the comforting fact that it possessed a separate exit into the hall. Through the folds of the curtain he had a complete view of the further apartment. The little lady had changed her gown of stiff white satin for one of flimsier material, and, seated in the easy-chair, she was busy pouring herself out some coffee. She took a cigarette from a silver box, and lighting it, curled herself up in the chair and composed herself as though to listen. To her as well as to Peter Ruff, as he crouched in his hiding place, the moments seemed to pa.s.s slowly enough.

Yet, as he realised afterward, it could not have been ten minutes before she sat upright in a listening att.i.tude. There was some one coming!

Peter Ruff, too, heard a man's firm footsteps come up the flagged stones.

The little lady sprang to her feet.

”Paul!” she exclaimed.

Paul Jermyn came slowly to meet her. He seemed a little out of breath.

His tie was all disarranged and his collar unfastened.

The little lady, however, noticed none of these things. She looked only into his face.

”Have you got it?” she asked, eagerly.

He thrust his hand into his breast-coat pocket, and held an envelope out toward her.

”Sure!” he answered. ”I promised!”

She gave a little sob, and with the packet in her hand came running straight toward the spot where Peter Ruff was hiding.

He shrank back as far as possible. She stopped just short of the curtain, opened the drawer of a table which stood there, and slipped the packet in. Then she came back once more to where Paul Jermyn was standing.

”My friend!” she cried, holding out her hands--”my dear, dear friend!

Shall I ever be able to thank you enough?”

”Why, if you try,” he answered, smiling, ”I think that you could!”

She laid her hand upon his arm--a little caressing, foreign gesture.