The Game Played in the Dark | Page 7

with the crash and grind of overwhelming mental tumult, the whole
strategy revealed itself, like the sections of a gigantic puzzle falling into
place before his eyes.
There had been no robbery at the British Museum! That plausible
concoction was as fictitious as the intentionally transparent tale of
treasure trove. Carrados recognized now how ineffective the one device
would have been without the other in drawing him--how convincing the
two together and while smarting at the humiliation of his plight he
could not restrain a dash of admiration at the ingenuity--the accurately
conjectured line of inference--of the plot. It was again the familiar
artifice of the cunning pitfall masked by the clumsily contrived trap just
beyond it. And straightway into it he had blundered!
"And this," continued the same voice, "is Carrados; Max Carrados,
upon whose perspicuity a government--only the present government,
let me in justice say--depends to outwit the undesirable alien! My
country; O my country!"
"Is it really Monsieur Carrados?" inquired Dompierre in polite sarcasm.
"Are you sure, Nina, that you have not brought a man from Scotland
Yard instead?"
"Basta! he is here; what more do you want? Do not mock the poor
sightless gentleman," answered Madame Dompierre, in doubtful
sympathy.
"That is exactly what I was wondering," ventured Carrados mildly. "I
am here--what more do you want? Perhaps you, Mr. Stoker?"
"Excuse me. 'Stoker' is a mere colloquial appellation based on a trifling

incident of my career in connection with a disabled liner. The title
illustrates the childish weakness of the criminal classes for nicknames,
together with their pitiable baldness of invention. My real name is
Montmorency, Mr. Carrados--Eustace Montmorency."
"Thank you, Mr. Montmorency," said Carrados gravely. "We are on
opposite sides of the table here to-night, but I should be proud to have
been with you in the stokehold of the Benvenuto."
"That was pleasure," muttered the Englishman. "This is business."
"Oh, quite so," agreed Carrados. "So far I am not exactly complaining.
But I think it is high time to be told--and I address myself to you--why
I have been decoyed here and what your purpose is."
Mr. Montmorency turned to his accomplice.
"Dompierre," he remarked, with great clearness, "why the devil is Mr.
Carrados kept standing?"
"Ah, oh, heaven!" exclaimed Madame Dompierre with tragic
resignation, and flung herself down on a couch.
"Scusi," grinned the lean man, and with burlesque grace he placed a
chair for their guest's acceptance.
"Your curiosity is natural," continued Mr. Montmorency, with a cold
eye towards Dompierre's antics, "although I really think that by this
time you ought to have guessed the truth. In fact, I don't doubt that you
have guessed, Mr. Carrados, and that you are only endeavouring to gain
time. For that reason--because it will perhaps convince you that we
have nothing to fear--I don't mind obliging you."
"Better hasten," murmured Dompierre uneasily.
"Thank you, Bill," said the Englishman, with genial effrontery. "I won't
fail to report your intelligence to the Rasojo. Yes, Mr. Carrados, as you
have already conjectured, it is the affair of the Countess X. to which

you owe this inconvenience. You will appreciate the compliment that
underlies your temporary seclusion, I am sure. When circumstances
favoured our plans and London became the inevitable place of meeting,
you and you alone stood in the way. We guessed that you would be
consulted and we frankly feared your intervention. You were consulted.
We know that Inspector Beedel visited you two days ago and he has no
other case in hand. Your quiescence for just three days had to be
obtained at any cost. So here you are."
"I see," assented Carrados. "And having got me here, how do you
propose to keep me?"
"Of course that detail has received consideration. In fact we secured
this furnished house solely with that in view. There are three courses
before us. The first, quite pleasant, hangs on your acquiescence. The
second, more drastic, comes into operation if you decline. The
third--but really, Mr. Carrados, I hope you won't oblige me even to
discuss the third. You will understand that it is rather objectionable for
me to contemplate the necessity of two able-bodied men having to use
even the smallest amount of physical compulsion towards one who is
blind and helpless. I hope you will be reasonable and accept the
inevitable."
"The inevitable is the one thing that I invariably accept," replied
Carrados. "What does it involve?"
"You will write a note to your secretary explaining that what you have
learned at 7 Heronsbourne Place makes it necessary for you to go
immediately abroad for a few days. By the way, Mr. Carrados, although
this is Heronsbourne Place it is not No. 7."
"Dear, dear me," sighed the prisoner. "You seem to have had me at
every turn, Mr.