“HE WHO FIGHTS”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 115, 18 May 1931, Page 9

“HE WHO FIGHTS”

SERIAL STORY;

(BY

LORD GORELL)

CHAPTER XXX.— (Conliii .ied.' She had never supposed for a ino'imnt that Frayne. a stranger to Paris, would make his way Io the interview on foot and in secret: she had reckoned it as certain that he would not arrive at it without leaving traces easily discoverable, by the. acute Paris police. Tnis mischance she did not know; of lhe other she was painfully aware. She had entered the. apartement successfully during her enemy's absence and had concealed herself in lhe empty cupboard, secured against discovery by his known careless selfi assurance. But the cupboard was i very dusty; after a while the coni lined space, choked her. In spite of her utmost efforts at suppression she reached a point when she had cither to clear her throat or give way Io a spasm of coughing. She had made as slight a sound as possible, hut Gregoire had heard It. He had sprung into furious activity; he had flung open lhe clipboard door. Madame Anatole trembled with indignation and recollected fear. He had drawn her forth, he had shaken her like a rat till her I ieeth were castanets; he had thrown ; her down so violently that her left arm was broken. Fortunately, it was Uie left. He had then made the little mistake that cost him life: he had miscalculated her tenacity, scorned the reality of her menace. He had despised her, turning with a coarse jest from her shaken, battered form to mix himself a drink. He would never jest again. Summoning up ail her strength, disregarding her pain, she had drawn out the heavy knife concealed in her dress, sprung to her feet, and slashed him terribly across the neck. Then, throwing down lhe knife, she had started to floe. The encounter had taken time; Frayne might arrive at any moment, and she must not be found there. Her instinct of self-preserva-tion was stronger even than her desire to stay and taunt her victim: he might still have strength to detain her, injured as she was—and she knew she had struck well. She fled leaving the outer door ajar. But, even as she started down lhe stairs, she heard steps ascending them; looking over the balustrade, she saw Frayne. A very grim expression of satisfaction crossed her face: she retreated up the stairs, past the fatal apartement, and stayed motionless on the ill-lit half-landing above. As soon as Frayne had pushed open the unlatched door, she crept down. She heard his gasp of fear and surprise from the room within; she withdrew lhe key dexterously from the inside of Hie outer door, silently closed that, locked it, and fled, willi triumph, hate, apprehension and pain jostling her| consciousness. Frayne could not now get out without breaking open the door —a noisy, notice-bringing necessity. The key went into the Seine as shb sped away. She was back in her own home—that, as far as direct evidence went, she had never left—as Frayne, leaving the dead, agitatedly tried the door. Ramon'et had dined 100 well to be obstinate when, instead of taking him home, Guitard grasped him affectionately by the arm, and, after walking him & hundred yards from Hie boule-. vard on which stood the hotel al which they had dined, stopped in a doorway, lit a cigarette, and showed no disposition to go on. “We stand, it seems," remarked Ramonet cheerfully, after a few minutes. "We take a little airing shortly, if J do not mistake," answered Guitard. “And f have the curiosity." "Always you have the curiosity and T have the indigestion," said Rarnonet with a sigh. "We will cure both, my friend." Presently Guitard, with a satisfied exclamation, seized hold again of his friend and hurried him along, saying only, “He walks, that excellent Al. Frayne. That is well." "Moir Dieul" exclaimed Ramonet, slopping short after they had been walking steadily for nearly half an hour, “I am not a machine I I am hot. I am fatigued, 1 have the breathlessness P “A little further,” urged Guilard. ‘‘You are not old, my friend. Hurry; lie will be out of sight.” "I am not old, it is true," answered Ramonet, planting his feet the more firmly, "but I do not like the nightair. lam sleepy; I wish to go to bed." "You are very lazy, Ambrolse. Almost you make me Io discompose myself. That AL Frayne. he docs not. stop still. He is gone." "Let us go, then." "Bah, it is no matter. Jam Lucien Guilard, and I do not need to be taken like a child. M. Frayne has walked this way; it is enough. I know." "Very well; let us go home.” "Not so, Ambrolse. We will walk more slowly, if you wish—not. 100 slowly, by my faith, or he will not be calling us his friends.” "It Is danger, then?" "You have right, Ambroise," answered Guilard with pleased animation. "That is another matter; why did you not say so? I will walk if it is danger, but I do not. like the exercise when it lias not the necessity. Lead on. my friend." r rhe two Frenchmen proceeded accordingly at a fair pace, though not at that of lhe swinging stride of Frayne with which they had hitherto competed. Once Guitard slopped amt consulted some notes wholly illegible to any but himself, and nearly so Io him also. “207,” he murmured vexPuly, "or 201? Nom d’un chien, but I do not know ! We will see, howNo. 207. which happened to come first, was inspected and rejected. It was a dwelling of small apartments similar to No. 201, but it did not tally with some other of Guitard's hieroglyphics. Ramonet’s obstinacy and this mistake cost them only a few minutes’ delay in all, but. they were of vast Importance in 'the hectic events of the night. They allowed Frayne to enter Hie fatal apartement unseen and unheard; they gave Madame Anatole' a clear field of escape. Guitard and Ramonet mounted ilic j two Hights of stairs silently hut with 1 , rapidity, Guitard's ion# and rnaUcu-'

(To be renunuedj

lons attention to the affairs of Madame Anatole had led him nt last, to much: he had that very day discovered her interest in No. 201, second floor, and his curiosity was fully awakened. Ho had had no special reason till that evening to connect that interest with the return of Henri Gregoire; It was an apartement without a tenant, so he had learnt. But the second he heard Frayne bid an revoir to Madame Anatole on the telephone, his imagination seemed to spring into life willi a click; there could be only one link between these two- —Henri Gregoire. And Frayne s walk had headed straight in the direction of this interesting No. 201. That was all Guitard wished to be told; the rest he felt could safely be left to his imagination. He was of opinion that he had divined all, but in a moment he would know. He would rescue Frayne and arrest Gregoire: it was very simple.

The locked door was significant: 1 where a man like Gregoire was concerned It would be most unfriendly te delay. Guitard deliberated a few seconds only, then he applied a UtHs Instrument with the coolness and dex--1 terity of a professional burglar, and, 1 revolver in hand, burst in, followed 1 by Ramonet. So concentrated was ’ his attention on discovering the body ! of Gregoire, blood-stained and heavily sagging in the chair, and so loud were ’ the exclamations of Bamonet, that it ' was only his subconscious mind that attended to the light sweep of feet in the little hall behind him. "It is well," lie remarked coolly, after surveying the body will) inten--1 sity a few moments. “It saves mm h trouble. Henri Gregoire will play no [ more little tricks, no. by my faith 1 He ceased to regard lhe body, but, ! standing in the centre of Hie room, darted his penetrating little glances in every direction. "Alone?" he murmured. “Tiens, this is amusing. Is it possible that our M. Frayne was taking Hie exercise only? The English arc very strange, that is sure." He glanced at lhe knife in the far corner, then keenly again about the room. Then he walked over to the open, empty cupboard and stood quite still for several seconds, gazing into it witli an air of abstraction. Ramonet meanwhile stood stolidly looking at lhe blood still oozing from the wound "n Hie dead man's neck. "It is a good blow," lie remarked with satisfaction. Guitard paid no attention. He came away from the cupboard and again took his stand in the middle of the room. Suddenly he stooped with a little cry of intense pleasure and, throwing aside the heap of broken crockery, picked up a little linen bag. Hie edge of which had just revealed itself to his keen gaze. "Aha I” he murmured to hmisclt with affectionate pride, "this is very amusing.” "I do not think so." said Ramonet "Ah. but yes! Presently I will explain.” Guitard peeped into Hie bag am} chuckled to himself, then lie. dropped it into his pocket. Next lie gazed very thoughtfully at the carafe standing by itself on the edge of the table. He stepped up to it and. taking it very gingerly by the lip. raised it to tlx level of his eyes. Il slipped and In made a hasty grab at it. that only ac celerated its descent; it was dashed te the floor and broke into many pieces "Mordieu." he exclaimed, looking at Ramonet with a rueful expression, “bul I am getting clumsy; if, is the good wine of Madame Dallinglon, doubtless. But it. is no matter. Let me see if there is anything else amusing in this place.” He darted from the room, ran hither and thither about the whole small apartement, peered into every crevice and drawer, and left not a place unexamined; then lie returned, breathless but ecstatic, into the sittingroom. “It has Hie simplicity,” lie announced. "When I have reflected a little I will tell you." He fell into quietude, gazing vacantly at the wall opposite. Ramonrt heaved a sigli and sat down gingerly on a chair in the corner away from the body and composed himself to wait until his friend wished to go. For several minutes it was very silent in that room. Then a slight sound was heard outside, o tread on lhe lillle landing beyond lhe outer door. Ramonrt heard it and looked at Guitard •for instructions; Guilard. signalling silence, threw up his head and list enod. The sound was renewed and quickly. Satisfied apparently by Hi« absence of all noise, a woman glided in swift silence into the room. Seeing the two men she gasped, and her hand went uncertainly to her bosom. Ramonet stared at her stolidly; Guilard. who had his back to the door, did not even turn round. He contented himself by remarking placidly, in high, concealed satisfaction with himself, "Come in. Madame Anatole. You have kept me waiting." Then, having given sufficient play to his dramatic instinct, he whirled round sharply. Madame Anatole shrank from his piercing gaze, murmuring, "I do not understand. M'sicur. Ah. what is there? Mon Dieu. mon Dieul What has happened?" She gave a cry and pointed to the body. "You have come for this, have you not, Madame?" Guilard asked caressingly. ignoring her question and drawing out Hie little linen bag. He held it towards her invitingly. For one moment her fate trembled in Hie balance. All Hie avarice of her being leapt up in her to claim it. the fruit of her labour, the delight of hep age; Io regain, it. the instant she had discovered Hie devastating fact that it had been shaken out of her dress in lhe course of her struggle with Gregoire, she had ventured back even to Hie room of death. But Guitard was hero and it had not escaped him. To claim it now was to acknowledge her previous appearance in that room, to take the first step to the guillotine. No anguish she had ever endured was comparable to the torture of that dilemma; her left hand hung useless, but her right was so clenched that her nails pierced 'er palm, her eyes became suffused blood, her teeth chattered.