The Place of Dragons: A Mystery

Sometimes they laughed heartily at something evidently hailed as a huge joke. I distinctly heard Gregory's tones, but the others' I could not recognize. As far as I could gather they were strangers to me.

Was the place, I wondered, one of old Gregory's hiding-places? Though he conducted his business in Hatton Garden, where he was well known, his private address, Lola had told me, had always been a mystery, such pains did he take to conceal it.

Was that lonely house his place of abode? Had he met his friend in Ealing and taken him there in order to place before him certain plans for the future?

I looked at the grim old house, with its mantle of ivy, and reflected upon what quantities of stolen property it might contain!

That the man I knew as Vernon Gregory was head of an association of the cleverest jewel-thieves in the world, had been alleged by Lola, and I believed her. His deep cunning and clever elusiveness, his amazing craftiness and astounding foresight had been well illustrated by his disappearance from Cromer, even though his flight had been so sudden that he had been compelled to abandon his treasures. Yet as I stood there, upon the carpet of weeds, with my ears strained, I could hear his familiar voice speaking in slow measured tones, as he was explaining something in elaborate detail.

What was it? I stood there in a fever of excitement and curiosity.

Yet I had one satisfaction. I had run him to earth at last.

Presently the voices of the men were again raised in dissension. Gregory had apparently made some statement from which the others – how many there were, I knew not – dissented. They spoke rapidly in French, and I could hear one man's mouth full of execrations, a hard, hoarse voice of one of the lower class.

Then I distinctly heard some one say in English —

"I don't believe it! He knows nothing. Why take such a step against an innocent man?"

"Because, I tell you, he knows too much!" declared Gregory, now speaking loudly in English. "He was at Cromer, and discovered everything. Ah! you don't know how shrewd and painstaking he is. Read his books and you will see. He is the greatest danger confronting you to-day, my friends."

I held my breath. They were discussing me!

"I object," exclaimed the man who had first spoken in English. "He has no evil intentions against us."

"But he knows the Nightingale, and through her has learnt much," Gregory replied promptly.

"What?" gasped the unseen speaker. "Has she told him anything? Has the girl betrayed us?"

"Ask her," the old man urged. "She's upstairs. Call her."

Lola was there – in that house!

CHAPTER XVIII

DONE IN THE NIGHT

I heard the stranger's voice call —

"Lola! Lola! Come here. We want you."

I heard her rather impatient reply, and then, a few moments later, she descended the stairs and entered the room where the gang had been discussing me.

Some quick words in French were exchanged. Then I heard her cry —

"I tell you, I refuse!"

A man's voice protested.

"No, You shall not!" she declared in a loud, defiant voice. "If you do, then the police shall know!"

"Oh!" exclaimed old Gregory, whose voice I recognized. "Then you object, Mademoiselle, eh?"

"Yes. I do object, M'sieu'!" she cried. "If any attempt is made against him, then I shall myself inform the police. Remember, M'sieu' Vidal is my friend."

"Your lover, perhaps," sneered the old man.

"No," she cried in loud, angry protest. "He is not my lover! Would he love a girl like myself – a girl who has been brought by you, and your friends, to what I am?"

"Well, you are a very pretty girl, and sometimes uncommonly useful to your uncle," replied old Gregory tauntingly.

"Of use to you!" she cried. "Yes, I know I am! And when you have no further use for me, then – then – an accident will happen to me, and I shall trouble you no further – an accident like that which you intend shall befall Mr. Vidal!"

I crouched against the window, my ears glued to the glass. I tried to picture to myself the scene within – how the young girl I had befriended in such curious circumstances was standing before them, defying them to make any attempt to put me out of action.

"You speak like a little fool, Lola," old Gregory declared. "You lead the life of a lady of means. You travel with a maid, and all you have to do is to be pleasant to people, and keep your eyes and ears open. For that you receive very handsome rewards, and – "

"And you make a million francs a year, M'sieur Gregory," she interrupted. "Ah! when the police trace these marvellous plots to their source, they will be surprised. One day the papers will be full of you and your wicked doings – mark me!"

"You are mad, you ungrateful little minx!" shouted the old man in furious anger. "If you try to prevent me carrying out any of my schemes, depend upon it you will rue it. I'm not a man to be played with!"

"Neither am I to be played with, though I am only a girl!" she retorted. "I'm desperate now – rendered desperate by you and your blackguardly gang."

"Because you fear for this novelist friend of yours – this prying person who is so fond of investigating other people's affairs, and using the material for his books, eh?"

"Yes. I fear for him, because I know what is intended."

"I tell you it's a matter which does not concern you," said the man with the master-mind, as I listened attentively.

"It does. He is my friend," she exclaimed in French. "I know that you intend he shall die – and I will warn him."

"You will, will you!" shouted Gregory, and I heard him spring to his feet. "Repeat that, at your peril!"

"I do repeat it!" said the girl wildly. "He shall not be harmed!"

"Eh? So you are ready to betray us, are you!" said the old man in a hard, hissing voice.

"Yes," she cried in defiance. "I will, if you so much as touch a hair of his head."

"You will! Then take that!" screamed the old man, while, at the same instant, I heard a heavy blow struck, followed by a woman's scream, and a loud noise as she fell upon the floor.

"Dieu!" I heard a man's voice exclaim. "Why – master – you've killed her!"

Then as I stood there, breathless, I heard some further conversation in low tones. The ruffians were discussing the tragedy – for a tragedy I felt it to be. A defenceless girl struck down by old Gregory – her lips closed for ever because she had sought to protect me!

These men feared me! This thought, despite the horror and anger with which I was seething, flashed through my mind like fire. They believed that I knew more than I really did.

But it was a moment for action. Old Gregory had deliberately struck down that unfortunate girl who had been trained until she had become an expert thief, made a cat's paw and tool for that dangerous gang of criminals.