The Crimson Blind | Page 8

trust to save the life of a man she loves.
By doing so she places the future and the happiness of many people in
the hands of an abandoned scoundrel. If she can only manage to regain
the thing she has parted from the situation is saved. Is not that so?"
"So far you have stated the case correctly," David murmured.
"As I said before, I am in practically similar case. Only, in my situation,
I hastened everything and risked the happiness of many people for the
sake of a little child."
"Ah!" David cried. "Your own child? No! The child of one very near
and dear to you, then. From the mere novelist point of view, that is a far
more artistic idea than mine. I see that I shall have to amend my story
before it is published."
A rippling little laugh came like the song of a bird in the darkness.
"Dear Mr. Steel," the voice said, "I implore you to do nothing of the
kind. You are a man of fertile imagination--a plot more or less makes
no difference to you. If you publish that story you go far on the way to
ruin me."
"I am afraid that I am in the dark in more senses than one," David
murmured.
"Then let me enlighten you. Daily your books are more widely read.
My enemy is a great novel reader. You publish that story, and what
results? You not only tell that enemy my story, but you show him my
way out of the difficulty, and show him how he can checkmate my
every move. Perhaps, after I have escaped from the net--"
"You are right," Steel said, promptly. "From a professional point of
view the story is abandoned. And now you want me to show you a
rational and logical, a human way out."

"If you can do so you have my everlasting gratitude."
"Then you must tell me in detail what it is you want to recover. My
heroine parts with a document which the villain knows to be a forgery.
Money cannot buy it back because the villain can make as much money
as he likes by retaining it. He does as he likes with the family property;
he keeps my heroine's husband out of England by dangling the forgery
and its consequences over his head. What is to be done? How is the
ruffian to be bullied into a false sense of security by the one man who
desires to throw dust in his eyes?"
"Ah," the voice cried, "ah, if you could only tell me that! Let my ruffian
only imagine that I am dead; let him have proofs of it, and the thing is
done. I could reach him then; I could tear from him the letter that--but I
need not go into details. But he is cunning as the serpent. Nothing but
the most convincing proofs would satisfy him."
"A certificate of death signed by a physician beyond reproach?"
"Yes, that would do. But you couldn't get a medical man like that to
commit felony."
"No, but we could trick him into it," Steel exclaimed. "In my story a
fraud is perpetrated to blind the villain and to deprive him of his
weapons. It is a case of the end justifying the means. But it is one thing,
my dear lady, to commit fraud actually and to perpetrate it in a novel.
In the latter case you can defy the police, but unfortunately you and I
are dealing with real life. If I am to help you I must be a party to a
felony."
"But you will! You are not going to draw back now? Mr. Steel, I have
saved your home. You are a happy man compared to what you were
two hours ago. If the risk is great you have brains and imagination to
get out of danger. Show me how to do it, and the rest shall be mine.
You have never seen me, you know nothing, not even the name of the
person who called you over the telephone. You have only to keep your
own counsel, and if I wade in blood to my end you are safe. Tell me
how I can die, disappear, leaving that one man to believe I am no more.

And don't make it too ingenious. Don't forget that you promised to tell
me a rational way out of the difficulty. How can it be done?"
"In my pocket I have a cutting from the Times, which contains a
chapter from the history of a medical student who is alone in London. It
closely resembles my plot. He says he has no friends, and he deems it
prudent for reasons we need not discuss to let the world assume that