The Wood Fire in No. 3 Part 18

"I'd have given that butler a dressing down," muttered Lonnegan. "He ought to have known that there was some mistake when the note arrived,"

Lonnegan like Mac was born without the slightest sense of humor, Boggs always maintained.

"Keep on guessing, gentlemen," exclaimed Murphy; "London guessed for a week, and gave it up."

"Well, but is that all?" asked Stirling.

"Every word and line. n.o.body knows to this day who they were or where they came from. The flunkey on the curb said they arrived in a four-wheeler; that he had whistled to the rank at the end of the square for a hansom, and that they both stepped in and drove off."

"And old Arbuckle still bags the money?" inquired Boggs.

"Did, the last I heard."

"Did he try to find out who the fellow was?"

"No, Lady Arbuckle wouldn't let him; it would have given the whole thing away. Besides, it was Arbuckle's statement about Eliza that made the stranger give the money; rather a delicate situation; looked as if he and his wife had put up a job."

"Poor devil!" muttered Mac. "Lied to his guest, insulted his wife, and robbed some poor woman of a charity that might have restored her to health, and all because of just the same kind of idiotic foolishness that is going on downstairs at Woods's this very minute. d.a.m.nable, the whole thing."

"I know of a case," said Lonnegan without noticing Mac's outburst, as he reached for his pipe which he had laid on the mantel, "in which not a mysterious couple but a mysterious woman figured, and I know the man who was mixed up in the affair. He's a civil engineer now and lives in London; got quite a position. When I first met him he was a draughtsman in one of the downtown offices--this was some fifteen years ago. He was a good-looking fellow then, about twenty-seven or eight, I should say, with a smooth-shaven face and features like a girl's, they were so regular; a handsome chap, really, if he was about up to your shoulders, Mac."

"What sort of a yarn is this, Lonny?" interrupted Boggs. "Got any point to it, or is it one of your long-winded things like the one you told us when you weren't murdered?"

"It's one that will make your hair stand on end," retorted the architect. "Wonder I never told you before!"

"Go on, Lonny," broke in Jack Stirling. "Dry up, Boggs. He was a good-looking chap, you said, Lonny, and about up to Mac's shoulders."

"Yes, and half the size of Boggs around his waist," continued Lonnegan, with a look at MacWhirter.

"The firm he was with sent him to Vienna with some plans and specifications of a big enterprise in which they were interested. He arrived in the evening, hungry, and late for dinner; left his trunk at the station, jumped into a fiacre and drove to a cafe on the Ring Stra.s.se that he knew. After dining he made up his mind to go back to the station, pick up his baggage, and find rooms at the Metropole. When he entered the cafe and took a seat near the door a woman at the next table turned her head and fastened her eyes upon him in a way that attracted his attention. He saw that she was of rather distinguished presence, tall and well formed, broad shoulders--square for a woman--and with a strong nose and chin. She was dressed all in black, her veil almost hiding her face. Not a handsome woman and not young--certainly not under thirty.

"With the serving of the soup he forgot her and went on with his dinner.

That over he paid the waiter, strolled out to the street and called a cab. When it drove up the veiled woman stood beside him.

"'I think this cab is mine, sir,' she said in excellent English.

"The Engineer raised his hat, offered his hand to the woman and a.s.sisted her into her seat. When he withdrew his fingers they held a small card edged with black. The woman and the cab disappeared. He turned the card to the light of the street lamp. On it was written in pencil, 'Meet me at Cafe Ivanoff at ten to-night. You are in danger.'

"The man read the card and strained his eyes after the cab; then he called another, drove down to the station, picked up his trunk, and started for the Hotel Metropole.

"On the way to the hotel he kept thinking of the woman and the card. It had not been the first time that his fresh cheeks and clean-cut features had attracted the attention of some woman dining alone--especially in a city like Vienna; any continental city, in fact. Some of these adventures he had followed up with varying success; some he had forgotten. This one interested him. The proffered acquaintance had been cleverly managed. The warning at the end was, he knew, one of the many ruses to pique his curiosity; but that did not put the woman out of his mind.

"When his baggage had been deposited in his rooms, a small salon, bedroom, and dressing-room, all opening on the corridor--he needed the salon in which to lay out his plans and maps--he gave his hat an extra brush, strolled downstairs, and stepped to the porter's desk.

"'Porter.'

"'Yes, sir.'

"'Where is the Cafe Ivanoff?'

"'Near the Opera, sir.'

"'Is it a respectable place?'

"'That depends on what your Excellency requires,' and the porter shrugged his shoulders.

"'It sounds Russian.'

"'No, sir; it is Polish. You have music and vodka, and sometimes you have trouble.'

"'With whom?'

"Again the porter shrugged his shoulders. 'With the police.'

"'Are there rows?'

"'No, there are refugees. Vienna is full of them. For you it is nothing--you are an American--am I not right?'

"The Engineer touched his inside pocket, felt the bulge of his pocketbook containing his pa.s.sport, turned down the Ring Stra.s.se, and stopped at the Opera House. Then he began to look about him. Young, well-built, clear-headed, and imaginative, this sort of an adventure was just what he wanted. Soon his eyes fell upon a cafe ablaze with light.

On a ground-gla.s.s globe over the door was the word 'Ivanoff.'

"He pa.s.sed through the front room, turned into another, and was stopped by a man at the door of the third.

"'What do you want, Monsieur?' This in French.

"'Some cognac and a cup of coffee.'

"'Did Monsieur come in a cab?'

"'No, on foot.'

"'Perhaps, then, the lady came in a cab--and is waiting for you?'

"'Perhaps.'

"'This way, Monsieur.'

"She sat in the far corner of the room, her face hidden in a file of newspapers. She must have known the attendant's step for she raised her head and fastened her eyes on the young man before he was half-way across the room.

"'Sit here, sir,' she said in perfect English, drawing her dress aside so that he could pa.s.s to the chair next the wall. 'I am glad you came; I am glad you trusted me enough to come.' Her manner was as composed and her voice as low and gentle and as free from nervousness as if she had known him all her life. 'And now, before I tell you what I have to say to you, please tell me something about yourself. You are an American and have just arrived in Vienna?'

"The Engineer nodded, his eyes still scanning her face, keeping his own composure as best he could, his astonishment increasing every moment. He had seen at the first glance that she was not the woman he had taken her to be. Her face, on closer inspection, showed her to be nearer forty than thirty, with certain lines about the mouth and eyes which could only have come from suffering. What she wanted of him, or why she had interested herself in his welfare, was what puzzled him.

"'You have a mother, perhaps, at home, and some brothers, and you love them,' she continued.

"Again the Engineer nodded.

"'How many brothers have you?'

"'One, Madame.'