Part 14 (1/2)

”And--the diamonds?”

”I shall consider my course in regard to the diamonds.”

”This--is robbery!”

”And your mode of obtaining the diamonds, Baron--what should you term that?”

”You mean to ruin me!”

”Be good enough either to draw the cheque, payable to the editor of the _Gleaner_--who will act in this matter, since I cannot appear--or to decline definitely to do so.”

”It will ruin me.”

”To decline? I admit that!”

Very shakily, having taken his cheque book from his pocket, Baron Hague drew and signed a cheque for the fabulous, the atrocious sum of 50,000.

A heavy smell--overpowering--crept to his nostrils as he bent forward over the table. He mentally ascribed it to the yellow cigarettes.

He laid down the pen with trembling fingers. That same sense of increasing distances which had heralded the stupor in the cab was coming upon him again. The cell-like room seemed to be receding. Severac Bablon's voice reached him from a remote distance:

”In future, Israel Hagar, seek to make--better use of your--opportunities.”

”Wake up, sir! Hadn't you better be getting home?”

Baron Hague strove to stand. What had happened? Where was he?

”Hold up, sir! Here's a cab waiting! What address, sir?”

The Baron rubbed his eyes and looked dazedly about him. He was half supported by a police constable.

”Officer! Where am I, eh?”

”_I_ found you sitting on the step of the Burlington Arcade, sir! Where you'd been before that isn't for me to say! Come on, jump in!”

Hague found himself bundled into the cab.

”Hotel--Astoria!” he mumbled, and his head fell forward on his breast again.

CHAPTER VIII

IN THE DRESSING-ROOM

The house was very quiet.

Julius Rohscheimer stood quite motionless in his dressing-room listening for a sound which he expected to hear, but which he also feared to hear.