“The Ghost Counts Ten”
By RALPH TREVOR (Author of "Viper's Vengeance," “The Eyes Through the Mask, Etc., Etc.)
CHAPTER XXVII
Ferdinand Bolz had visited his prisoners on two occasions during the day. Quest, complaining of the cold, had been permitted to dress under the surveillance of Bolz, Torestes and another man. It was Bolz’s hand, however, that held the revolver during the process, and when the dressing had been completed, the limbs had been manacled again, Quest had protested against this. He complained that, should he revise his decision regarding divulging the remainder of the secret it would be impossible for him to do any work on it in such a condition of restraint. Further than that ho would require pencil and paper. It had been Ferring who had put Quest up to making the suggestion, thinking that, perhaps, once free, Quest might provide some useful assistance for himself. But in this he had reckoned without Bolz, for when that gentleman had considered Quest’s request a reasonable one, Ferring had been marched from the room down the labyrinth of passages to the room he had lately occupied as a dressing room and where his Elizabethan costume still reposed, there to await the pleasure of Ferdinand Bolz.
Quest, set free from his bonds, and provided with writing materials, found that Bolz had no intention of leaving him alone. A man who had been brought In for the dressing remained with him. And the man had a weapon posed in his hands as he sat silent and sullen on the neighbouring chair. ‘Conrad Quest and Ferring had disoussed their positions at considerable length during the waits between the official visits of the gaolers. Ferring had been speculating on how far Number 22 would be available to help him, and regretted that he had not made more preliminary use of the man. He might, for instance, have revealed to him the existence of the secret entrance to the Manor from the grounds. Ferring felt that he had not done his work as competently as he might.
Left to himself Ferring worked feverishly once more at the cords on his wrists. He had been working at them almost continuously, until they had bitten deeply painful Into the skin. Once or twice he imagined that they were slacker than they bad been. Now back in a room he knew more intimately than Bolz’s room, he wriggled himself across I lie boards in search of a nail. He found one with a prayer oT thankfulness on his lips. For the succeeding half hour he laborously rubbed the cord between his wrists until lie felt that if had worn through several of the strands. Exerting his strength, he heard the cord snap. But he heard something nlore than that; he heard the creak of a board out in the passage. Hastily he scrambled back to the place where Bolz had so unceremoniously bundled him, keeping his hands together in the darkness and hoping that Bolz, if it were he, would not detect any slackness.
It was Bolz sure enough, a large swaggering Bolz, dressed once again in his Sir Roger’s costume', and since there was no electric light in the passages of the south wing, he carried an orhate electric lantern.
“Well, my dear Smolnov,” he purred with obvious satisfaction. “I promised that you should witness the final scene in this pleasant espionage drama in this charming England. I have, too, secured possession of that equally charming English girl, Miss Louise Trelare. That is a precaution I am sure you will appreciate; a precaution, or should I say persuasion, for our mutual friend Quest to deliver his secret. My information Is that lie has been at work for the past two hours. Let us go and see what is happening.”
Bolz bent down and yanked Ferring to his feet.
“You will proceed in front of me, Smolnov, and the hard instrument you will feel in the small of the back will be something I 'shall not hesitate to use should occasion demand.”
Ferring had no -choice since his automatic had been taken from him during those moments of oblivion, and he believed that the time had not yet come to make use of his freed hands. Before Bolz had raised him to his feet he had slackened the cords about bis ankles, but only to such a degree as would enable him to shuffle rather than walk.
The journey to the north wing completed, Bolz pushed him into the room where the man still sat on guard over the prisoner. Quest looked up as Ferring entered, hut In response to a look from Ferring checked the words that were coming to his lips.
“You will stand, so, Smolnov,” announced Bolz. leading him to a point in the room where his back was against the wall facing Quest, who was seated on the pile of blankets and rugs with a pad of paper posed on his knees.
Ferring made no demur. 'He was biding his time.
'Bolz turned to Quest, who appeared to he eyeing Ihe costume of the Elizabethan Knight with some in-
“You like it. Mr Quest?” he asked. “I am glad. You «ec. as Smolnov will tell you, I am his twin gliosl.” Bolz laughed with a degree of merriment Ihe occasion did not seem to demand.
“You seem to have a passion for fancy costume,” sneered Quest. “The true continental tradition.”
The refort seemed to sting Bolz, for he turned around and flashed a look of black hatred on Ferring. “So you have been talking, eh? Well, perhaps It is as well that you, Quest, should know who I am." “To save yourself the trouble, Bolz, I already know.” A knock came to the door. It was Torestes. He was accompanied by Louise Trelare. She was almost white-lipped, and Ferring 'thought that she swayed slightly as Torestes guided her. “Ah." breathed Bolz. "von have a distinguished visitor. Mr Quest.” The girl turned at (lie sound of the voice, bet* lips parted. Quest sprang from bis position on the blankets, onlv to be flung rudely back again by the man standing guard over him. “f am snrrv that this should have happened. Miss Trelare.” Bolz’s voice was as soft as honey, “but, I promised
you during dinner to-mght that if it Aero possible I would And Mr Quest Tor you. Unfortunately, the circumstances are not quite so happy as I had hoped." He glanced at his watch, and nodded to Torestes, who immediately disappeared. “It is five minutes to ten,” he remarked, turning to the girl, "and T have given Mr Quest until ten o'clock to complete the formula Iso much desire. Mr Quest knows what the alternative is to the acceptance of my proposal.” "rmn't, Conrad! Please!” cried ■Louise. "Don’t lei him have it! "I'm afraid I've no alternative, my dear," Quest told her, remembering that case nr ugly needles he had seen ,n Bolz's hand. “It is already nearing completion. There are only two more symbols.” "But you mustn't, my dear, she protested. "You must know what it means!" . "Mr Quest knows precisely what it means. Miss Trelare."
It, was then that Louise seemed to be aware of the grotesque figure for the first time. She stood staring at him with wide eyes. “Who are you?” she asked, softly.
"You have known me. dear lady, as Roderick Pershing. If you have disliked that particular personality, perhaps you will like Ferdinand Bolz, known throughout Europe as the ‘man with a hundred faces.' A complimentary title, dear lady, and one of which a Secret Agent such as I, can feel' particularly proud.”
"You mean you're a spy?” “The term is archaic, Miss Trelare. Like Smolnov here, we are all agents. It sounds so much better, don’t you think?" The girl felt suddenly numb with a nameless fear. She realised now in all its completeness the cunning nature ol’ the plot into which she and her brother had been so ingeniously beguiled. And Conrad Quest was being forced to deliver Ills secret up to this man. But he must not do it. Surely there was something she could do. She glanced around her appealingly, and her eyes fell on Ferring standing silent by the wall. There was no sign of recognition on his face, and she made an instinctive movement towards him. Then she saw his eyes flicker as if lie were signalling, and she halted quickly. There was so much here she could not, understand; so much, that bewildered her. Torestes came again, and Bolz turned quickly to him. _ "Nothing to report, Chief,” he said, nervous,ly, Ferring imagined. Bolz’s jaw set into a grim Arm line. He turned quickly to ihc man standing guard over Quest and motioned him to the door. The man went without a word. Then Bolz turned to Quest. “Well,. Mr Quest, It is ten o’clock, and lam a busy man. You have the formula ready?” Before Quest could reply, Louise had flung herself between the two men, and stood facing Bolz, her eyes flashing. (To Be Continued).
Permanent link to this item
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Bibliographic details
Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20246, 15 July 1937, Page 4
Word Count
1,517“The Ghost Counts Ten” Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20246, 15 July 1937, Page 4
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