DANGER BECKONS

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 58, 9 March 1935, Page 10 (Supplement)

DANGER BECKONS

By MRS. BELLOC LOWNDES.

CHAPTER XI. M. Hercules Popeau, of Paris. The urbane-looking and polished Baron Tigau, whose official designation is Introducer of Ambassadors, was announced within a very few moments of George Adams' arrival at the C'rillon Hotel. In fact, the Englishman had only had time to walk from his bedroom into the enchanting little sittiiig room which opened on to a wide leaded roof overlooking the Place de la Concorde, before the baron appeared. As for Helen de Floury, she had not yet joined her brother. She was still with Queen Magia—assisting her to settle into the Villa Sirene, a large white marble building overlooking the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. In a sincere, impressive tone, the baron exclaimed: "I should be very much obliged Mr. Adams, if you would allow me to make you acquainted with a man who has the entire trust both of the prefect of the police, and of the president of the Republic!" The other looked at Baron Tigau with surprise. Ho wondered, within himself, who this remarkable person could be. "His name," went on the other, "is Hercules Popeau; and he has only just retired from our Criminal Investigating Department." The baron waited a few moments; then he went on: "Now and again, as a favour, and, you may bo surprised to hear, without consenting to take a fee, Popeau steps back into his old shoes, at the request of our Government. And as you will, maybe, have guessed by now, to this famous ex-secret agent has been confided the- personal safety of France's all-important guest, King Bolba. That being so I should be very much obliged, Mr. Adams, if you will have the kindness to allow him to have a few words with you." "I can't help thinking," said George Adams thoughtfully, "that I heard of :his Hercules Popeau during the Paris Conference." "Why of course you did! He looked after all the arrangements made for the safety of all the great personages who attended. Ho now has a suite of rooms in a delightful seventeenth century house, the Hotel Paragon, on the other side of the river. It is there he is to be found when wanted." "When may I expect this remarkable individual to call on me?" The Baron smiled. "As a matter of fact he'is here downstairs, so I will bid you farewell, and send him up to you." Baron Tigau rose from his chair. He was again the typical stiff, though exquisitely courteous. French official. He bowed low before King Bolba's temporary aide-de-camp. "Mr. Adams? I salute- in you the British Empire." The Baron smiled himself out of the room, and there seemed scarely time for him to have been taken down in the lift, before there came a quiet knock at the door of the sitting room. Adams called out "Entrez"; the handle of the door was turned; and a big, stout elderly man walked in and exclaimed in English—"Mr. Adams? Hercules Popeau at your service!" "I'm very pleased to meet you—" said the Englishman heartily. He was still enough of a boy to feel a thrill at meeting a world famous secret-agent, as such men arc now styled. The Frenchman glanced at the closed door, then cast a quick look round the low-ceilinged sitting room.

"As it is such a beautiful day, why should we not go out on your superb terrace?" he asked.

"By all means," said Adams, and the two men stepped out together on the leads of the ancient palace built by a Duke of old France.

"To my mind—but of course you may not agree with me," observed Hercules Popeau, "this is the most interesting town view in the world. To the left we have the Tuileries Gardens, where so much history has been made; and before us, just where the obelisk stands, not only a king and a queen, but innumerable great and noble folk, noble in class and noble in nature, as I think most of the Revolutionary records prove, were guillotined.

"On the right stretch the Champs Elysees—the Elysian Fields dear to the heart of every Frenchman, ending with the Arc de Trionipho, and under that arch the tomb of the Unknown Warrior."

"And right in front of us," exclaimed the Englishman, smiling, "the Chamber of Deputies."

Hercules Popeau shrugged his shoulders. "To me that building is a blot on the view. 'The House of Parrots," that is what I call our Chamber of Deputies." -

He turned away from the edge of the terrace. "You permit me to sit down, Mr. Adams?"

Adams was surprised, even a little amused, by his visitor. Somehow Herculee Popeau looked more like one of those jolly, easy-going taverners who keep comfortable inns in the Pyrenees than a marvellously able and acute secret agent.

The Frenchman went across to the open glazed door of the sitting room and carefully closed it.

"I am most anxious to know from you," lie said gravely, "something about that Syrian who calls himself King Bolba's Grand Vizier."

"I know nothing about him at all," said George Adams quickly. "In fact, to tell you the truth, I hardly ever see him."

The Frenchman looked deeply disappointed. He looked round him cautiously. "He is the one person about whom I have not been able to find out anything."

Adams said quickly, "The reason for that is simple. There is really nothing to find out about the man. I am sure he takes bribes. I am equally sure he is not in a position to give anything in return for them."

Popeau leaned forward. "Do not speak too loud. Walls have ears where a distinguished diplomat happens to be staying." George Adams said rather sharply, "I am not a diplomat, Monsieur Popeau."

The Frenchman said suavely, "You are for the moment —whether you like it or not—holding a post that any diplomat might envy."

The other remained silent; he could not deny what Popeau had jfist said.

"And now, Mr. Adams, I think, if you can spare me the time, that I must entertain you concerning a very serious matter."

He put his fingers together, and George Adams stiffened into sharp attention. He asked himself uneasily what it. could be that this Frenchman was going to say to him.

"You are, I understand, acting as temporary A.D.C. to King Bolba?" As the other nodded, he added, "In that position you must have found, from day to day, your work, if I may so call it, become more and more onerous and responsible."

George Adams felt a tremor of surprise and, it must be admitted, anger sweep over him. What Hercules Popeau had just said was, almost word for word, what Adams had written to a, very close friend in the Paris Embassy from Berlin. It might be only a coincidence, but it looked as if hie letters were being opened.

"That being so, I am sure you will agree with me, my dear sir, that you and I ought to confer together, concerning the safety in Paris of an African monarch, whoso prolonged existence is at any rate of importance to every civilieed people." "In what sense do you mean, Monsieur Popeau ?" "If the concession which Bolba is about to grant brings not only wealth, but happiness and health to innumerable human beings, then I, being a philosopher, should not much care who gets it—if only tho country in question honestly works it to tho benefit of humanity. But I am a Frenchman, and I trust a patriot; therefore, I hope with, all my heart that it is Franco who will ultimately be granted tho concession. You, I understand," —there came a slightly satirical look in his small bright eyes—"remain neutral as to this delicate question ?" "You are right in supposing that I am neutral. I have nothing to do with business in any way. And I took on what I confess has been a more oneruos job than I expected, to please a friend." And then he stopped. He did not wish to reveal to a Frenchman that the friend in question belonged to the. British Foreign Office.

"Ah, yes," said Hercules Popeau negligently. "I know that the gentleman in question—Mr. Michael Fanehawe—is clever, and very agreeable. We think he is likely lo come over to Paris during the next few days."

George Adams could not conceal his discomfiture. And the older man laughed, not ill-naturedly. " Come come, Mr. Adams —is it not our businees to know why you were chosen rather than another gentleman?"

Tho Frenchman lowered his voice. "I must reveal to you that I feel terribly anxious concerning this stay in Paris of King Bolba. He is in deadly danger — danger that becomes more and more deadly, as tho time approaches for lam to leave Europe." George Adams leant forward. He was extremely surprised—surprised, and yes, excited, too, by the other's unexpected confidence. "What makes you think that?" he exclaimed. "lias he any special enemy in tliis city?" "Xot that I know of. But I have no doubt that there are people who desire to destroy Bolba while ho is in Paris. Before being here, were these eaino villains in London. Mr. Adams; most certainly also in Berlin, and—in Venice!" "What makes you think that?" "I do not think it. I regard it a positive fact. And I thought it only right to put my cards, as they say, on the table, with regard to yourself." Adams leapt up from the chair on which he was sitting. "In what way?" he demanded. "I am sure that I cannot imagine who would have the slightest interest in taking King Bolba's life?" Hercules Popeau looked pityingly at the Englishman. Was the good-looking young man before him really as simple as all that? "To begin with," he said gravely, "there must be many Big Business interests who, if they have any reason to suppose that Bolba is not going to give their special group or country the concession that is in question, believe that they would have a much better chance with his successor. But, whatever the reason may be, you can believe me when I tell you that someone intends to compass Bolba's death. A first attempt on Bolba's life was made in London, Mr. Adams." He looked fixedly at the younger man. "A step wae cut out of a staircase dawn which the great chief was about to descend from the chamber of hia favourite Hagar. Had he fallen through the hole! and broken, say, his leg only, there would I have been someone ready in hiding to finish him off " "Are you sure of that?" cried Adams. The Frenchman nodded. "And now I come to what took place in Berlin! I do not know if you arc aware of the terrible affair which caused the life of a charming young girl to be sacrificed." George Adams felt utterly bewildered. He had not heard a word of what had happened in the old Schlose. Helen had kept her word to this German official. "I do not wish to enforce your confidence, but I cannot help supposing that) your sister the Comtesso de Fleury will have told you what occurred," added Hercules Popeau quietly. "I have heard nothing, and, frankly, I do not believe anything happened in Berlin." Popeau exclaimed: "The Countess do Fleury will certainly confirm the following facts." He went on in quick staccato accents: "A box of chocolates was sent to their Majesties, addressed to them at the Old Schloss. Queen Magia gave it to a German Maid of Honour, and —as a result of eating those sweets the young girl died." "Are you quite sure that happened in Berlin?" "Quite sure." Again the Frenchman waited a few moments, then he said, "You must bo aware of all that happened in Venice?" "In Venice?" repeated George Adams mechanically, and he sighed. Out there, in the brilliant June sun of a perfect Paris day, he was remembering all that had taken place during that memorable night. How he had broken down a hidden door giving into Queen Magia's bed-chamber, just in time to rescue her from an awful death Jby burning. . "Yes, Mr. Adams, what I am going to tell you is, of course, known to you, but I doubt if you know all the detai>) as to the fire which nearly succeeded in destroying King Bolga." Ada me remained silent. He had suddenly made up his mind that he, himeelf, would not say a single word as to that terrible and sinister affair. "In Venice," said Hercules Popeau impressively, "the room in which Bolba had been expected to sleep was eet fire to deliberately." "He was watching , the Englishman's impassive face intently,' as he spoke.

''Most fortunately, the King was not in his room tliat night! he was in the women's quarters at the back of the Palazzo. The affair was stifled, and very rightly ami properly so, by the Italian Government. But it was only a happy accident that Bolba was not roasted to death!" "And are you sure that it was not an accident '!" "So little was it an accident that the door of the room in question wae locked and bolted from the inside.' The assassin set fire to the chamber from a balcony which ran all along the front of the Palazzo, overlooking the Grand Canal." '"Yes, I wae aware of that," said Adams. "I mean' lam aware that the fire started near a window. That wae common knowledge." "What happened in Venice will show you that whoever desires King Bolba's death will stick at nothing." Tho young man then asked a question in a voice which he strove to make indifferent. "Do you believe that whoever wants King Bolba out of the way also desires to assassinate Queen Magia?" lie asked. The Frenchman' shook hie head. "No, that I do not believe. Her death is to no one's interest." "What do you fear may happen here, in Paris '!" "Ah, now, Mr. Adams, we come to the real matter in hand. Not only am I naturally determined that there shall be no incident of a disagreeable kind here, but I need hardly point out to you that if King Bolba were to be killed, or die, in Paris, his successor would rot bo likely to sell his all-valuable concession to .France."

"What sort of precaution nre you taking?" asked the other with some curiosity. "Tho matter of protecting a Royal personage is comparatively easy, when wo are dealing with his progress, or progresses, through the city, though there is always the danger that a bomb may lie thrown from a window, as happened eotne years ago in India. Also it is possible that some desperate anarchist may get near enough to the Royal equippage to stab its occupant." "Are you afraid of that happening?" (To be continued next Saturday.)