Part 6 (1/2)
”Break it open!” he cried to the policemen.
They hammered upon it with their clubs. Mr. Sabin's quiet voice came to them from the other side.
”Pray do not disturb me, gentlemen,” he said. ”I am reading.”
”Break it open, you d.a.m.ned fools!” Horser cried. They battered at it st.u.r.dily, but the door was a solid one. Suddenly they heard the key turn in the lock. Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
”Gentlemen!” he exclaimed. ”These are my private apartments. Why this violence?”
He held out the paper.
”This is mine,” he said. ”The information which it contains is bought and paid for. But if the giving it up will procure me the privilege of your departure, pray take it.”
Horser was purple with rage. He pointed with shaking fist to the still, calm figure.
”Arrest him,” he ordered. ”Take him to the cells.”
Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
”I am ready,” he said, ”but it is only fair to give you this warning. I am the Duke of Souspennier, and I am well known in England and France.
The paper which you saw me hand to the porter in the hall as we stepped into the elevator was a despatch in cipher to the English Amba.s.sador at Was.h.i.+ngton, claiming his protection. If you take me to prison to-night you will have him to deal with to-morrow.”
Mr. Horser bore himself in defeat better than at any time during the encounter. He turned to the constables.
”Go down stairs and wait for me in the hall,” he ordered. ”You too, Skinner.”
They left the room. Horser turned to Mr. Sabin, and the veins on his forehead stood out like whipcord.
”I know when I'm beaten,” he said. ”Keep your report, and be d.a.m.ned to you. But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you can ask those who know me how often d.i.c.k Horser comes out underneath in the long run.”
He followed the others. Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with a quiet smile upon his lips. Once more he glanced through the brief report. Then his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still--a tired, weary-looking man, almost unnaturally pale.
”They have kept their word,” he said softly to himself, ”after many years. After many years!”
Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards. He saw signs of the struggle, but made no comment. Mr. Sabin, after a moment's hesitation, took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into a winegla.s.sful of water.
”Duson,” he said, ”bring me some despatch forms and a pencil.”
”Yes, sir.”
Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in an envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
”Duson,” he said, ”that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I should be arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the hotel within reasonable time, break that seal and send off the telegrams.”
”Yes, sir.”
Mr. Sabin yawned.
”I need sleep,” he said. ”Do not call me to-morrow morning until I ring.