Part 13 (2/2)

'I am a friend of the family, monsieur monsieur. I have been away for some years, in Spain.'

'Ah!'

'How is Monsieur Ducoste to-day?'

'Better. They are coming to fetch him away.'

'So we heard. Can I see him?'

'No.'

'But why not? I may never have another opportunity.'

'Because, my young friend, he is in the charge of the police.'

'Yes, we heard that too,' answered Ginger in a melancholy voice. 'Is he in a public ward?'

'No, in a private room.'

Ginger nodded. This was useful information.

'Perhaps the police wil let me see him?'

'I doubt it.'

'I can but ask. Where can I find them?'

The janitor yawned. 'The sergeant is not yet back from his siesta. Monsieur Andre, the gendarme gendarme of Peil e, guards the prisoner in his absence. If you are going to do anything you had better be quick. of Peil e, guards the prisoner in his absence. If you are going to do anything you had better be quick.

Ducoste is being taken to Nice. I expect the van here at any moment.'

Ginger caught his breath. 'Where can I find the sergeant?'

'I wouldn't disturb him.'

'Then, with your permission, I wil see Monsieur Andre.'

'No, I can't let you do that, but I wil tel him you are here. There is a chance that he may let you see the unfortunate Ducoste, but by order of the prefect al visitors are forbidden.'

'You speak as though you are sorry for Ducoste, monsieur monsieur?' Ginger spoke as meaningful y as he dared.

The Frenchman threw him a curious glance. 'He would be a brave man, or a foolish one, to say what he thinks, in this country, to-day.'

'Wel , wil you go and ask Monsieur Andre if I can 'Wel , wil you go and ask Monsieur Andre if I can see Henri just for a minute?'

'Wait.' The janitor walked off along the main corridor.

Ginger watched him, for he realised that here was an opportunity for discovering where Henri was confined. To his great satisfaction the janitor did not turn up the stairs, but went along to the end door on the right hand side of the corridor. From this Ginger gathered Henri was on the ground floor.

The janitor was absent for about a minute, and then came back. 'No use,' said he. 'Ducoste is not al owed visitors. Police orders.'

'Then I have wasted my time,' muttered Ginger gloomily.

The janitor did not answer at once. He was looking past Ginger's shoulder along the winding road to La Turbie. 'This looks like the police van coming now,'

he observed.

Turning, Ginger saw a dark-coloured van creeping round the lip of the gorge. He had no doubt that the janitor was right, and his heart sank, for although his brain was racing he could not think of a plan that promised the slightest chance of success.

'You'd better be getting along,' advised the janitor.

'Yes, I suppose so,' agreed Ginger disconsolately.

But he did not move. He was not yet ready to abandon hope.

As the van drew near the janitor walked forward to the top of the steps, and as it stopped on the road, about twenty paces distant, he went forward to meet the occupants who now emerged. There were three men, not counting the chauffeur. The first was a short, thick-set man in a dark suit. He carried a pair of handcuffs in his left hand. Of the two with him, one was a policeman; the other wore the uniform of the Italian medical service. Talking quietly they moved forward together towards the steps of the sanitorium.

The chauffeur lit a cigarette and fol owed leisurely.

Ginger saw that if he was going to attempt a rescue he had about one minute in which to accomplish it. Once Henri was handcuffed, and in the car, there would be no hope at al , and the realisation of it made him desperate.

The janitor, who had evidently forgotten him, had gone on down the steps and was talking to the newcomers. The whole group halted to hear what he had to say.

If Ginger actual y thought he was unaware of it. He acted on impulse. Crossing swiftly to the hat rack he unhooked a white jacket and then sped on down the corridor, putting on the jacket as he went. At the end door he stopped and knocked sharply. A voice invited him to enter. He went in, to find himself in a smal whitewashed cubicle. There was an iron bed, and on it a man, his head swathed in bandages.

Ginger barely glanced at him. He was looking at a French gendarme gendarme who, with his tunic unb.u.t.toned, lol ed, somewhat uncomfortably, in a wooden chair. who, with his tunic unb.u.t.toned, lol ed, somewhat uncomfortably, in a wooden chair.

To this man Ginger addressed himself.

'We have arrived to take the prisoner to Nice,' he said crisply.

'I thought I heard the car pul up,' announced the gendarme, gendarme, rising. rising.

'The doctor is in the hal -he wants to see you,'

went on Ginger, trying to keep his voice natural. 'I'l take charge of the prisoner while you have gone.'

T h e gendarme gendarme obeyed the order without the slightest hesitation. To al appearance it did not occur to him to question it. b.u.t.toning his tunic he went out. obeyed the order without the slightest hesitation. To al appearance it did not occur to him to question it. b.u.t.toning his tunic he went out.

The moment the door was closed behind him Ginger locked it on the inside and then went straight to the open window. As he had supposed, the room was at the end of the building, and did not overlook the front, but the side. A short distance away the lines of was.h.i.+ng stil hung limply in the stagnant air.

Just beyond was the ravine in which Lucil e rested in the shade. Satisfied with his inspection Ginger turned to Henri and spoke to him tensely.

'We've got about thirty seconds,' he said. 'Are you able to walk?'

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