PIRATES OF PICCADILLY

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22145, 26 June 1935, Page 21

PIRATES OF PICCADILLY

(COPYRIGHT)

By WILLIAM J. MAKIN Author of " The Murder at Covent Garden," " Two Moons," " Price of Exile," etc

A STORY OF LOVE AND BREATH-TAKING ADVENTURE

SYNOPSIS A taxi stops at the door of 70A Piccadlljy. and a man ciobs-cs the pavement. After informing the servant who opens the door that he is Prince Serge I.obni, lie enters and, immediately afterward, drops dead. About the same time, Arthur Chesham, a young rutin who has lost a fortuin- in Monte Carlo, is travelling by train to London when he performs a small service for an attractive ynl who is alone. During the ensuing converse tion she leatns something ot his Btory, but he loses sight of hei upon arrival at the London terminus. He is leaving the tram when the chauffeur of an expensive-looking car asks him to enter, assuring Arthur that he is acting upon his employer s instructions. Arthur, in the mood for any adventure, enters the car and is driven to 70A Piccadilly where he sees the girl whom he met in the train, and is asked to take the place, at dinner, of 1 rince nerge Lobai of Koravia. nil important guest, who cannot appear. He agrees to do so, and shortly afterward sees two men carrying a third, who is dead, from the house. Wearing a blood-red ribbon, from which dangles a glittering order, Arthur is introduced by a cripple, referred to as the ' chief. to several guests. CHAPTER Hl,—(Continued) Chesham nodded. These men were playing at revolution. A man Mho kept rows, a fire-brand from the Foreign Legion, and a pawnbroker. These three men were going to bring war and bloodshed into a country in Europe. They intended overthrowing the existing rule and substituting a royalist regime. Three men with strange occupations. Well, bigger revolutions have been launched by men loss qualified.

"And here are two other supporters of the cause, your highness," insisted the chief as ho manoeuvred Chesham toward the other two men in the room. " They have come from Koravia, and landed by aeroplane at this afternoon," explained the chief. ' They leave again early in the morning with, we hope, news that the revolution is ready to begin and that your highness is ready to take his lawful place upon the throne of Koravia." The chief concluded by announcing the names of these two, undistinguished messengers. Their names sounded both unpronouncable and incoherent. IhoN touched Chesham's hand with obvious awe, although Chesham himself was wondering whether the farce had not gone far enough. Supposing he turned and laughed in their faces? Supposing he tore this blood-red ribbon from his shirt-front, flung it to the carpet, and revealed himself as Arthur Chesham, an ordinary foolish gambler whom the bank at Monte Carlo had broken. With the thought in his mind, he turned. His hand grasped the glittering order. He saw before him that absurd semi-circle of figures, with the crippled figure of the chief in his invalid chair before him. He even glimpsed out of the corner of his eye, the tough figure of Julian in his flunkey garb. But ho cared for none of them. He laughed aloud.

" Gentlemen —" he began. But at that moment the door opened quietly. A girl with Titian hair and garbed in a glittering, diamante evening frock entered the room. Her lips parted in an adorable smile as she saw Chesham. The man who was about to reveal everything faltered. Even as the words burbled on his lips she came toward him confidently " Gentlemen," continued Chesham. "I think we ought to begin dinner. . .

Allow me." And he offered his arm to the girl an white. " This individual must die. The talk at the dinner table had lapsed into French. Diplomatic talk demanded a diplomatic language. Chesham appreciated that. But this growledout statement by General Mikzath brought a brutal note into the conversation. " This individual, Jan Neruda, must die. . . " repeated the general, aggresively, and glaring in the direction of Chesham. . Chesham, who was enjoying a feole Mornay, and also appreciative of the fact that the girl with the Titian hair was seated on his left, smiled disarniinglv at the general. " By all means," he said. " But . . . er . . . who is Jan Neruda?" At once he realised that he had blundered. Apart from the astonished silence that fell upon the delegates from Koravia, a delicately-shod foot pressed upon his own. Chesham turned toward the girl. But her grey eyes appeared charmingly innocent. "Jan Neruda! You ask who is Jan Neruda?" The close-cropped hair of the general positively bristled with indignation. At the same time the repetition of that name had a terrifying effect upon the two delegates who had arrived by aeroplane. A grey smudge of fear apppared on their faces. " Jan Neruda is your most implacable enemv, sire," went on the general. "He is the dictator of Koravia. He is . . . (words failed him and he fell back upon that contemptuous French^ expression) ". . . . he is an individual."

" Exactly," murmured Chesham, sipping his glass of Chateau Margaux. "He is an individual. 1 have no desire that his name be mentioned in my presence. It is better that certain names be unspoken. Therefore, 'let us refer to him as —the individual." He heard a soft sigli of relief from the girl at his side. At the same moment the delicate pressure of the shoe was removed. " His highness is wise," nodded Ferenc Jokai, quietly wiping his grey moustache with a napkin. " It is better that certain names, which we all know, should be referred to indirectly. Moreover, we are not here to discuss murder." " Let us call it—assassination," smiled Sholom Asch. " Murder or assassination, it's all the same," growled the general. " You can't have a revolution without bloodshed. And, if the—er —individual dies it will save us much fighting and thereby many useful lives." "You told us, General,, that in the Foreign Legion they taught men how to die," commented Jokai, bitterly.

The general spluttered. It was the clever Jew who saved the situation. Declining the offer of more wine from the attentive Julian, lie said, with a smile: " The best soldiers know when to run away, so that they may fight another day. An English proverb, is it not, Monsieur Mann?"

He had turned to the crippled figure of the chief, who, seated in his chair at the end of the table, seemed content to dine on thin slices of toast and a modest glass of wine. It was the first occasion on which Chesham had heard the name mentioned. Monsieur Mann 1 The chief nodded.

" It is an English proverb," ho said quietly, " and to all you gentlemen present here, I will quote another. It is a nursery rhyme. ' All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humptv Dumptv hack again.' Htimpty Dmnpty, 1 might explain for the benefit of such gentlemen from Koravia who have never heard of him, was a distinguished personage who fell from a

great height. The moral is obvious. A revolution to-day in favour of democracy is easy. There is always plenty of support." " That infernal individual proved it," interjected the general. " Exactly," went 011 the chief. " But a revolution in favour of royalty is not so easy. The king has been dethroned. Hump'ty Dumpty has fallen. It will not be so easy to put him back again, even with horses and men." " Hut the king is dead. And long live Prince Serge," cried Jokai, rising abruptly in his seat and raising his glass of wine.

All the others, with the exception of the crippled man in the invalid chair, followed suit.

" Long live Prince Serge, our future king," they echoed, raising their glasses to the amused and rather sardonic figure of Chesham. He nodded casually, regally. Then, turning to the general, lie said:

" Talking of horses and men, General, just what are the forces at our command ?"

The general shrugged his shoulders. His weather-beaten face was disturbed,

" Of men, not more than a thousand at the moment, sire," he said. " But the cause, once started, will bring the men by the tens of thousands. Wars are fought to-day with something more important than men —machines." " 1 see," nodded Chesham. "And may one inquire what are the king's machines?"

" Five aeroplanes, suitably equipped with machine-guns and bomb racks. Ten motor-cars. Also a goodish quantity of tear gas. The thousand men are nearly all more important than soldiers, for they are mechanics. For a revolution, give me men in overalls rather than men in khaki."

" General, they taught you a lot in the Foreign Legion," commented Chesham with a new respect. The general frowned. " That is just, what 1 did not learn in the Foreign Legion, sire," lie replied, "i discovered those methods elsewhere." "A suggestion of my own," added the chief, drily, from his prison chair.

"And where is the first attack to be j launched?" went on Chesham, inquir-| inglv. He had helped himself liberally to a Siberian souffle and was thoroughly enjoying this dinner party of good food, strange companions, and talk of bloody revolution. " 1 presume you will first capture the palace?" " Spectacular, but not effective," said the general, shaking his head. "No, j our first attack will be on the broadcast- ; ing station at Koravia. Our engineers will rush the place. Once the micro- j phones are in our hands we can call j upon the whole patriotic public of the country to rise in the cause of royalty." "Again, an idle suggestion of my | own," was the dry "omment of the chief, j Chesham faced that figure in the chair.

" Monsieur Mann seems to be very much the power behind the throne," he murmured.

A pair of grey, cynical eyes were flecked with amusement.

" Monsieur Mann is the power behind the throne," broke in the silky voice of Sholom Asch- " But he is being well paid for his services."

" No more than I deserve," was the dry comment of the crippled figure. Chesham began to be dangerously inquisitive.

" May one ask the price?" There was a silence for a moment. "It is a mine," replied Sholom Asch.

"Ah, a gold mine?" But the crippled figure shook its head.

" No, only fools pant after gold, these days when the big states are frightened of gold. I seek a rarer metal. The mine I want is a radium mine."

"There is radium, then, in Koravia?" asked Chesham. The chief nodded.

" So we have reason to believe. But 1 then, it is my business," he went on. j " The concession, Prince Serge, is to be i given me and the syndicate 1 represent in return for placing you on the throne j of Koravia." " I see," murmured Chesham.

" i hope you do," drawled the chief significantly. Then he nodded to the girj in white who sat on Chesham's left. ! _ She promptly rose. As she stood ! there, her cheeks flushed, and a glass i of wine in her hand, the man who was ! pretending to be a princo gazed at her 1 with unconcealed admiration. She : turned and looked down at him, a ■ strange smile parting her lips. "Gentlemen!" she eriecf. "1 give I you the toast —long live the King of Koravia!" The others had leaped to their feet, all with the exception of the crippled man in the invalid's chair and Chesham. There were tears in the eyes of the old patriot, Ferenc Jokai. "Long live the King of Koravia I" they echoed. • " God bless him!" added old Jokai. There was a shuffle of chairs as they resumed their seats. An impish smile crossed the face of Chesham. Well, the time had come to end this farce. Why should he, a penniless man, further? He felt mildly amused, even sorry for these fervent patriots who had come to a dinner-table in a strange house 111 Piccadilly to talk of revolution and the j overthrow of a modern republic. It would be kinder to tell them the truth. ! He stood up. "Please!" came a pleading whisper! at his side. i

He knew that it was the girl with the Titian hair the girl whom he so frankly admired. Yes, but even for her ho could not go on pretending. He dared not look at her, lest his resolve should weaken. He faced the assembled guests. " Gentlemen .. . he began. Then his eyes glimpsed that crippled figure of the chief in the invalid's chair. His eyes also glimpsed something else. Monsieur Manr was toying with a white napkin. Beneath the napkin something gleamed. Arthur Chesham realised what it was. An automatic pistol pointed directly at him. And there was a determined, merciless gaze from the' grey eyes. "Gentlemen," continued Chesham, "i thank you. No one could wish for better patriots, for finer men. May we each reach our heart's desire." And he sat down. "Bravo!" called out General Mikzath, and held his glass to the flunkey for more wine With an ironic gesture, the chief also held up his glass and drank. " Bravely spoken, your highness!" he drawled. The automatic pistol had disappeared. "And now?'' inquired Arthur Chesham of the crippled figure in the chair. The last of the party of conspirators had gone. Two men had left to catch an early plane from Croydon. General Mikzath, Sholom Asch, and Fere no Jokni had gone their respective ways. Julian, in his flunkey garb, was openly yawning. The girl had sauntered across to a mirror. "And now?" insisted Arthur Chesham. The chief smiled, and with a slight wave of his hand indicated the girl at the other side of the room. " The night is still young," he murmured. "And T'ni sure Helen would be delighted to dance. Why don't you both run round the corner to the Baiulon ? 1 hear they have the best dance band in London." (To he continued tnily)