The Place of Dragons: A Mystery

"Yes. As I have already told Inspector Warton."

"What brought you here?"

"I followed two of the men from Ealing."

"I know. But for what reason did you follow them?"

"Because I believed that I recognized them."

"But you were mistaken, eh?" asked the fat sergeant as we still stood at the edge of the grave.

"I hardly know," I answered vaguely, "except that a dastardly attempt was made upon my life because I had pried into the men's business."

The sergeant was silent for a few moments, and I had distinct suspicion that, from the expression upon his face, he did not believe me.

Then he remarked in a slow, reflective tone —

"I suppose, Mr. Vidal, you know that the young French lady who was found here has made a statement to Inspector Warton?"

"What!" I gasped. "What has she told him?"

"I don't know, except that he's gone up to Scotland Yard to-day regarding it."

I held my breath.

What indiscretions, I wondered, had Lola committed!

CHAPTER XXI

EXPLAINS LOLA'S FEARS

After leaving the house in which I had so narrowly escaped death, I dropped the sergeant at Spring Place station and, with Rayner, drove over to Brentford, where, at the hospital, I stood beside Lola's bed.

She looked a pale, frail, pathetic little figure, clad in a light blue dressing-jacket, and propped up among the pillows. When she recognized me she put forth a slim white hand and smiled a glad welcome.

"I have been so very anxious about you, Lola," I said after the nurse had gone. "You know, of course, what happened?"

"Yes," she answered weakly in French. "I am so very sorry that you should have fallen into the trap as well as myself, M'sieur Vidal. They induced me to call there for one purpose – to kill me," she added in English, with her pretty French accent.

"I fear that is so," was my reply. "But did you not receive my warnings? The Paris Sûreté are searching for you everywhere, and Jonet is most anxious to find you."

"Ah, I know!" she exclaimed with a slight laugh. "Yes, I got your kind letters, but I could not reply to them. There were reasons which, at the time, prevented me."

She looked very sweet, her fair, soft hair in two long plaits hanging over her shoulders, the ends being secured by big bows of turquoise ribbon.

Yes, she was decidedly pretty; her big, blue, wide-open eyes turned upon me.

"I wrote to Elise Leblanc at Versailles," I said, for want of something else to say.

"I got the letters. I was in Dresden at the time."

"With your uncle?"

"No. He has been in Vienna," was her brief response.

"But he was at that house in Spring Grove."

"Yes. It was a trap for me – a dastardly trap laid for me by old Gregory," she cried in anger. "He intended that I should die, but he never expected you to come so suddenly upon the scene."

"How was it that Jeanjean arrived there also?" I asked.

"He came there to consult the Master," she replied. "A huge affair was being planned to take place at the offices of one of the best known diamond dealers in Hatton Garden. Gregory, being in the diamond trade, knows most of the secrets of the other dealers, and in this case had learned of the arrival of three very fine stones, among the most notable diamonds known to the world. For three months he had carefully laid his plans of attack, and on the night in question had called his confederates together, as was his habit, in order to put his plans finally before them, and to allocate each his work. Through my uncle, however, I knew of the proposed robbery, and the old man, fearing me, had decided that it would be in their interests if I died. Hence the attack upon me."

"A most base and brutal one!" I cried. "But thank Heaven! Lola, you are recovering. I overheard all that you said regarding myself."

She flushed slightly, but did not reply.

"To-day I have heard that you have made a statement to the police," I went on in a low voice so that I should not be overheard by the nurse who stood outside the door of the small two-bedded ward, the second bed being unoccupied.

"Yes. An agent of police came and questioned me," was her reply, "but I did not tell him much – at least, nothing which might give them any clue – or which would jeopardize either of us. I had heard that you were recovering, and therefore I thought you would prefer to unmask Gregory and his associates yourself, rather than leave it to the London police. Besides, they have escaped and I have no idea where they may now be."

"Quite right," I replied, much relieved at her words. "You acted wisely, for had you told them the truth they would in all probability have arrested you."

She smiled faintly.

"Yes. That was one of the reasons which caused me to exercise discretion. I felt that we should soon meet again, M'sieur Vidal," she added. "They say that I shall be discharged from here in about a week."

"I hope so," I declared earnestly. "You had a very narrow escape from those fiends."

"I was quite unsuspicious when I went there," she said. "That house has been our meeting-place for the past eighteen months or so. Sometimes we met at Gregory's flat in Amsterdam, and sometimes at the tenantless house in Spring Grove, or at one which has been to let at Cricklewood, and also at a house in West Hampstead."

"The spot 'where the three C's meet' at Ealing is the usual rendezvous, I suppose?"

"Yes, the place is easy of access, quiet, and entirely unsuspicious. I have met my uncle there sometimes when in London, and sometimes Gregory or the others. The conference usually took place there, and then we went together in a taxi to one or other of the meeting-places which Gregory had established."

"As soon as you have quite recovered we will lay a trap and secure the whole gang," I whispered confidently.

"Ah! I fear that will not be easy," she exclaimed, slowly shaking her head. "We shall be too well watched."

"And we can watch also," I remarked. "I know that from to-day I shall be kept under close supervision because they will fear me more than ever. But I shall manage to evade them, never fear. As soon as you leave hospital we must join forces and exterminate this gang of assassins."

She drew a long breath, bent her fair brows and looked straight across at the pale-green wall. I could see that she was not at all confident of escape. She knew how clever, designing and unscrupulous was the old man Gregory; how cheaply her uncle, Jules Jeanjean, held human life.

"Where is Gregory now, I wonder?" I exclaimed.

"Who knows? They are all in France or Belgium, I expect. They may be in Amsterdam, but I do not think so, as they might suspect me of making a statement to the police."

"What did you tell the police?"