Part 66

I watched Mademoiselle as she passed out of the station to a little restaurant where she had a frugal meal. Then she returned and took a ticket back to her home in Castelsarrasin.

Rivero now had his hands full. Not only had he identified in the respectable commercial traveller, Charles Rabel, the notorious assassin Despujol, but he had also quite accidentally come across Sanz the motor-bandit, who of late had terrorized the south of Spain, and whose daring depredations were upon everyone's lips. Mademoiselle seemed to be a friend of both men!

I returned to my hotel close by, and ate my déjeuner alone. My position was a very unenviable one, for I feared to go over into the town lest I should come face to face with the man who had so cunningly made an attempt upon me as the hireling of Oswald De Gex.

But my thoughts were ever of my beloved, the girl who was the victim of some foul plot into which I, too, had been drawn--a mystery which I was devoting my whole life to solve.

At five o'clock that evening I received a telegram from Harry in Madrid, telling me that all was quiet, and "our friend"--meaning De Gex--never went out.

To this I replied in a cryptic way that our suspicions had been verified, and that the person of whom we were in search we had discovered. We were only now waiting for the appointment to be kept at the Hôtel de Luxembourg at Nîmes.

Next day passed uneventfully. In order to kill time I took train to the quaint little town of Moissac, an ancient little place on the Tarn about twenty-five kilomètres distant, and there spent the hours wandering about the countryside which is so famed for its grapes in autumn. I did not return to Montauban till after seven, and while I sat at dinner the waiter handed me another telegram. It was from Rivero, and having been sent from Lyons, read: "All well. Just returning to Montauban."

Later, I busied myself with time-tables and found that he would be due to arrive about six o'clock on the following morning. Therefore I possessed myself in patience, and I was still in bed when in the morning he entered my room.

"Well?" he exclaimed in French, as he sank wearily into a chair. "I've had a swift and weary journey. Sanz has been alarmed by the girl. Why, I cannot tell. Did she go to see Despujol?"

"No," I replied. "She didn't see him, but went straight home."

"You have not ventured near Despujol, I hope?"

"No. I have hardly ventured into the town."

"Good. Well, we shall make a double arrest," he went on. "When the train arrived at the junction at Montlucon at midnight Sanz, evidently fearing lest he was followed, slipped out of the train and into another on the opposite side of the platform. It is a favourite dodge of elusive persons of his type. So, unseen by him, I also joined the train, and we travelled across to Lyons. There he went to a house in the Rue Chevreuil, close to the river, and when I had him safely there I went to the Bureau of Police and asked that observation should be kept upon him until such time that we in Spain should demand his arrest and extradition. The Lyons police know me very well, so two agents were at once detailed for that duty, and I immediately made my way back here. It seems that Sanz is also wanted in France for a motor-car exploit outside Orleans. Therefore our discovery is indeed a lucky one!"

"Will Sanz be arrested?" I asked.

"Yes. I have already reported by telegram to Señor Andrade in Madrid. He will at once ask them in Paris to order the arrest."

"And Despujol?"

"We have now to await his journey to Nîmes to keep this mysterious appointment with your friend."

"Not my friend," I remarked, "rather with my bitterest enemy!"

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST

AT THE HÔTEL LUXEMBOURG

As a detective Rivero was of outstanding shrewdness. He knew that more could be gained by patience than by sharp activity. Hence he did not go near the Rue de Lalande. Indeed, on the Saturday night we both left Montauban together, and travelled by that slow, cross-country route through the Aveyron, by way of Sévérac, down to the ancient city of Nîmes--that quaint, quiet old place which contains more monuments of antiquity than any other town in France.

Early in the morning we alighted at the station, high upon a viaduct, after a sleepless night, and drove to a small commercial hotel, the Cheval Blanc, in the Place des Arènes, nearly opposite the Luxembourg where the mystery-man of Europe had appointed to meet the infamous Despujol. When I inquired for a telegram one was handed to me. It was from Hambledon, saying that De Gex had left for Nîmes and Suzor was returning to Paris, therefore he would follow the latter.

Having installed ourselves in the hotel, Rivero went to the concierge, and taking him into his confidence over a twenty-franc note, told him that he was very anxious to know whether a gentleman named Rabel had arrived at the Luxembourg. Would he ask the concierge there privately on the telephone?

The man in uniform at once rang up the Luxembourg, and addressing the concierge as his "dear Henri," made the inquiry.

The reply was that Monsieur Rabel was expected at noon.

"Ask if a gentleman is expected who has engaged a private sitting-room," Rivero said.

The reply came back that a gentleman, believed to be English, had arrived in the night and now occupied the best suite. His name was Monsieur Johnson, of London.

I then described De Gex to the concierge, who repeated the description to the other hotel.