Part 34

"Gabrielle Engledue?" she repeated. "No, I have never heard the name. I know a Gabrielle--Gabrielle Tennison--an old schoolfellow of mine."

"A tall, dark-haired girl?"

"Yes, she is rather tall, and dark-haired."

"Isn't her real name Engledue?" I asked quickly.

"Not to my knowledge."

"Is she not Mr. De Gex's niece?"

"He has no niece, has he?--except, of course, Lady Shalford, whom I know quite well."

"Where is Gabrielle Tennison?"

"In London--I believe."

"Are you certain she is not here, in Florence?"

"Mr. De Gex told me that she came to Florence for a few days----"

"To visit him--eh?"

"I suppose so. But she has returned to London."

"Do you know her address in London," I asked very anxiously. "I ask you this in our mutual interests, Mrs. Cullerton," I added confidentially.

"Yes. She lives with her mother in a maisonette in Longridge Road, Earl's Court, I forget the number, but you could easily find out."

"And she is there now, I presume?"

"I expect so--if what Mr. De Gex has told me is the truth."

"But will he ever tell you the truth?" I queried. "Recollect that although he poses as your husband's friend, he is nevertheless your enemy--because he fears you! Why is that?"

The pretty wife of the young London stockbroker hesitated. I saw that she was much perturbed by my question.

"I suppose he suspects that I know certain things," was her low, hard reply. "But he has been very good to Jack on several occasions. He has prevented him from being hammered on the Stock Exchange, therefore I can only be grateful to him."

I looked the pretty woman straight in the face, and said:

"Grateful! Grateful to a man whose dastardly intention is, when the whim takes him, to send you to your grave, Mrs. Cullerton?"

"I--I really don't know what you mean. Are you mad? Do be more explicit," she cried. "Why do you make these terrible allegations against Mr. De Gex?"

"Please recollect, Mrs. Cullerton, that I am here first in your interests, and secondly in my own. You and I are now both marked down as victims, because both of us are in possession of certain knowledge which would, if exposed, bring obloquy and prosecution upon an exceedingly wealthy man. Your husband, yourself, and myself, are merely pawns in the clever game which this man is playing--a mysterious game, I admit, and one in which he is actively assisted by Doctor Moroni--but also one in which, if we are not both very wary, we shall find ourselves the victims of fatal circumstances."

My words seemed to impress the stockbroker's wife, for she asked: "Well--what shall I do?"

"Be perfectly frank with me," I replied promptly. "Both of us have all to lose if we close our eyes to the conspiracy against us on the part of your friend De Gex and his shrewd and unscrupulous accomplice, Tito Moroni."

"Moroni is one of the most popular doctors in Florence," she remarked.

"I'm perfectly aware of that," was my reply. "But there is no more dangerous criminal than the medical man who is beneath the thumb of a millionaire. There have been several before the assizes in various cities of Europe. Many, thanks alas! to the power of gold, have never been unmasked. There have been cases in Hungary, in France, in Italy, and in Russia--even one case in England which is recorded in a big file at Scotland Yard. But in that case there was no prosecution because money means influence, and influence means the breaking of those in office who dare to oppose it."