The Evil Chateau

Putaruru Press, Volume XI, Issue 268, 7 September 1933, Page 7

The Evil Chateau

SERIAL STORY

By

SYDNEY HORLER.

(All Rights Reserved)

“Was it’s name Krang?” she asked a little breathlessly. “Yes. That was what the Count called it. Have you seen the beast?" She nodded. “Last night. It looked in at my window.” “My God! What do they keep it for?”

The girl’s hand reached out and touched the back of a chair. “They use it to kill people—the man who was here just now—” He interrupted. “Did he hurt you? I saw you pointing a revolver.” There was a hint of hysteria in her voice as she answered. "He wanted to touch me —so I shot him."

“Shot him? I didn’t hear any report."

“I used a noiseless automatic. No," answering the unspoken question, “I don’t think he is dead; if I had had any sense I should have aimed for the heart and not the shoulder. But he is very angry, and when a man like Szulc ” “Szulc I” he interrupted again. “Who is Szulc?” “Szule is the name of the most evilliving man." Her tone left no room for doubt. “But I thought the Count was the danger. It was through him I was kidnapped and brought here.” “Hie Count is merely a subordinate —one of Szulc’s creatures. He made me an infamous offer just now—an offer which, of course, I refused. That was before I shot him. After lurching out, holding his wounded shoulder, he said that the offer would not be re-« peated.” “May I ask what the offer was?" Heritage did not know why he asked the question except that now he was by the girl’s side he seemed to have become so closely identified with her that the thought of their ever being separated again was impossible Felicity looked straight in front. Stephen noticed her hands were clenched. “He wanted me to become his mistress,” she replied; “for that I was to receive half of his kingdom.”

“He seems almost as unpleasant as his name,” commented Heritage, whose blood was seething; “where is this sweet creature now?” He had started towards the door when the girl seized his arm.

“He must not see you," she said urgently; “that would be fatal.” “Fatal . ; for him,” growled Heribut out of respect for her request for caution, he stopped.

Then he became foolish, k “My dear,” he said, “what does * anything matter now that I’ve found you?”

CHAPTER XXVII. —THE COMTESSE CACKLES.

~ In the great dining room below Szulc was nursing his hurt, which had been dressed by a servant and fostering his rage. The damnable spitfire —to shoot him like that! The auto- ' matic she had used was only a toy j ! but it might have been the means of • his death. It would have to be taken , ; away from her. ' ; He heard the tap-tapping of a stick 1 and rose awkwardly as the Comtesse I I entered the room. ‘ “Antoine,” she said, “are you i | here?” 1 “Your son is not here, Comtesse," answered Szulc; “I am waiting for him myself. Can I guide you to a chair. He went across and offered the assistance of his arm. “If is very kind of you, Monsieur.” She sat down. “Will you please be good enough to see if the door is securely shut?” “I wanted to make sure; it is a great misfortune to be blind. Monsieur. And now will you do me the favour of giving me five minutes of your valuable time?” j ' “I am at your disposal, Comtesse.” IHe speculated what a wonderful I beauty this woman must have been in ; her youth and middle-age. Even now ; she was remarkable. The Comtesse leaned forward. “Draw your chair closer, Monsieur Szulc,” she whispered; “what I have to say is for your ears alone." He did as he was requested, curiosity rather than courtesy prompting him. Then he stared. The still beautiful face had become vulpine, repul--1 sive. It glowed with some mysterious [ force of devilry. “It is about the English girl upstairs I wish to speak, M. Szulc. My son, Antoine, is weak-—I am afraid he has fallen in love with her- —but you, I know, will not be so foolish.” “No. I promise you nqt to be so foolish, Comtesse." The wound in his shoulder— the servant had not been able to extract the bullet—was throbbing like the devil. “It is impossible, of course, to allow her to leave the Chateau,” said the Comtesse; “she knows too much. Antoine made a mistake, I think, in Inviting her here at this time —and yet s I don’t know. She is a danger avert- d ed.” The face was thrust still nearer the listener. “Not that she will be a the first visitor to disappear from the ti Chateau de la Siagne.”

Szulc felt himself attracted to this terrible old woman. There was an affinity between them. “And haven’t inquiries been made?” he asked. A thin peal of cackling laughter greeted the words. “Oh yes—but what are ‘inquiries’? Antoine has simply said that the poorunfortunates must have been set upon by mountain bandits—-you recall, Mon-

sieur, that this is a very lonely and desolate part of the Alpes Martimes." “But this girl is without doubt an accredited member of the British Intelligence,” he persisted.

“All the more reason that her mouth should be shut for ever!” The Comtesse’s lips closed with a snap. “You will not fail me in this, Monsieur? It is for my son’s own good that I speak. Szule, who had plumbed many human depths, had now an entirely new experience. “What is it exactly you wish to do, Comtesse?” he asked. For a minute the woman spoke rapidly, her voice low and husky. At the end Szulc remained silent. “Comtesse,” he said finally, “you were born out of your generation. You belong to an earlier age.” The woman made acknowledgment by another thin peal of laughter. “I must leave you to convince Antoine,” she said, rising; “he would not listen to me.

Back in the room which was a prison, Felicity turned to the man Whose fate had become so inextricably linked with hers. “You must go," she said; “of the two the window is the safer way in spite of—" “Krang.” He shook his head. “No, we must cut out the window; it would be impossible for' you. I hate this waiting—-why can’t 1 we make a dash for it? You have a revolver and I have a couple of fairly useful fists.” But to this suggestion she gave no approval. “They will know by this time you have escaped, and the house will be full of searchers. The only way for you is through the window. As for Krang, I will let you have my revolver.’’ .if!-’!- .11 :fi fV

“My God’, you don’t!” he answered; “I’m not going on my own. Let’s make a dash for It,” he pleaded again. “I can’t leave yet, even if it were possible. My work is not done." He stared at her. "

“You" put-“your 1 work before your life?” he asked in amazement. “I must,’!.; she .replied simply and without any suggestion of heroics; “I am bound to do so by the oath I have taken.” '[ ‘

“You. are in the Secret Service?" “Yes—how did you guess”?' “The Count informed me. My dear,” he went on, “you must try to realise that with him and this man, Szulo, whoever he ;may be, knowing this, every moment you stay in this place is terribly dangerous.” “Of course,” was the reply: ’“that is why I want you to leave. Please 1” she entreated, and would have thrust the revolver into his hand if he had not stood away. “That’s impossible!” To give colour to his determination, he sat down. She shrugged her shoulders as though recognising how useless was further argument. “Where’s your friend?” she then asked.

Very briefly he told her what had happened.

“I feel terribly to blame,” he said, coming to an end. “That is all the more reason why you should get away while there is yet time.”

“My place is with you,” he answered doggedly. “You know you are acting very foolishly.” “I know that I would rather die with you than live by myself.” After that, Felicity felt that anything she could have replied would be inadequate. “I have no doubt but that we shall die,” she said after a pause. “I was too confident in coming here alone. I should have had help. How bitterly I regret that now.” “Do the people at the Mont Fleury know where you are?” “No—they only know I was to he away for the week-end.” “Did you say when you would be back?” “No. I did not know how long I should have to stay here.” “But If you don’t return, inquiries would surely be made by your friends?” “I have no friends at Cannes—only acquaintances. Yes, there Is one man —but I purposely put him off. He warned me against ooming here, and I had to laugh him to scorn.”

“Where is he now?” “Bofdlghera, I believe." “There’s not much hope from him, anyway. But if : we can only hold out until to-morrow ”

“What Is to happen, I am afraid will happen to-night.” “Never mind. Let me oomplete what I was going to say. Lord Dalrymple, the British Foreign Secretary, is in Cannes—at least, he was yesterday." . “How do you know?” “Because he came to the Chester Hotel to see me.” “About his son?" “Yes.” “Did he refer to me?” “No." “No?" “No. Because I was ass enough *o imagine that if you wanted any help I was the one to give it you. I didn’t want anyone else butting In." “Did Lord Dalrymple know you were ooming to the Chateau?” “No—but the concierge of the Chester did. He’s a bright chap—one of the most intelligent fellows I’ve ever met. Like your friend, he gave us a warning about this place, and if we’re not back soon he’ll go to the Police— I’m sure of that.!’ “It may, then, be too late. Besides. T don’t think the local Police would move against the Count unless they had’ overwhelming evidence: they would not take the word of a mere hotel concierge. We must not rely on that.”

T-To refused to be daunted. ‘There is still Matcham,” he said: "he can’t speak French, he wants to fight, everyone who looks at him a second time, and he may be dead by now. lot! if he’s alive you can depend upon

him doing something. He’ll guess I’ve been carted along here, and ” He turned as a voice barked sharply from the door.

“Both of you please put your hands above your heads.” In the speaker Felicity recognised the chauffeur who had driven her that day. To Heritage also came recognition; this was one of the crooks who bad attacked him on the sea-front the morning after the Westover murder. He would have risked a rush at the man, both of whose hands held a revolver, had not Felicity quietly said: “Do not be foolish—waltl” “Quickly, now—or I shoot 1” came the warning. CHAPTER XXVIII.—THE SENTENCE. I “It’s useless to resist," said Heritage. The thought of the girl receivI ing a physical hurt was unnerving. It almost unmanned him. Whatever awaited them, they would be together. That was a oertaln consolation; and there was still the chance of being able to make an attempt at escape, impossible as this was at the moment. Felicity did not reply to the advice. Instead, she turned to the man at the door. “What do you want?” she asked. “You are to come with me—both of you,” he said in French. He stood aside so that they could pass. When, Heritage momentarily hesitated, he thrust the revolver forward with a vicious gesture. “The quicker you move the safer you will be,” was his warning. Stephen shrugged his shoulders. He had to make some movement In order to conquer the desire to risk everything b'y’ punohing this olive faced swine In the jaw. ’ , Outside the door was another gaoler. He, too, was armed. “This way,” the latter said harshly.

They followed this guide-down the winding staircase which had become

so familiar to Felicity; and then, leaving the ground floor where the rooms she knew were situated, they descended a number of stone steps to .Jlnd themselves in a cold, damp corridor. To the left was a door, on which the leader knocked.

A voice called “Entrez,” and the man, thrusting open the door, entered the room. The prisoners were able to see a number of ‘‘men seated at an oblong table. In the centre was one who had discarded his coat and whose left arm was in a sling. Heritage judged this unpleasant-looking person to be the Szule, of whom Felicity had spoken. The chairman of the proceedings scowled as the guide seemed to be making some kind of report. Then he made a fierce and abrupt motion of his hand.

The man, turning round quiokly, walked back to the prisoners. “You are to come inside,” he said.

For the second time since this grim piece of mummery had started, Heritage was tempted to take the risk of rushing at his two gaolers. But the pressure of a revolver barrel against his back reminded him' of the duty he owed his common sense. The only way he could hope to protect hls companion was by keeping a firm grip on himself at least for the present. He felt something warm touch his fingers and his entire outlook became changed. He caught Felicity’s hand and held It tight. A courage that ne could not have hoped to possess flowed Into him at' th 3 contact.

(To be Continued.)