20 
LAND & WATER 
January i8, 1917 
(Continued from page i8) 
risk nothing. Shot, do you say ? Nonsense ! You don't 
shoot people in France for the least thing ; and we are all four 
subjects of a neutral country. Tried ? Sentenced ? Iin- 
piisoned' Never! You forget that you have kept every- 
thing dark so far ; and, when you hush-^d up the murder of 
Mustapha, of Fakhi and of Essares, it was not done with the 
object of reviving the case for no valid reason. No, sir, I am 
quite easy. The mternment camp is the worst that can 
await me." 
" Then you refuse to answer ? " said M. Masseron. 
" Not a bit of it ! I accept internment. But there are 
twenty different ways of treating a man in these camps ; 
and I should like to earn your favour and, in so doing, make 
sure of reasonable comfort till the end of the war. But 
first of all, what do you know ? " 
" Pretty well e\-crything." 
" That's a pity : it "decreases my value. Do you know about 
Essqrcs' last night ? " 
" Yes, with the bargain of the four millions. What's 
become of the money ? ' 
Bournef made a furious gesture . 
" Taken from us ! Stolen ! It was a trap ! " 
" Who took it ? '■ 
" One Grc'goire." 
■ Who was he ? " 
" His familiar, as we have since learnt. We discovered 
that this Gi^'goire was no other tlian a fellow who used to 
serve as his chauffeur on occasion." 
" And who therefore helped him to convey the bags of 
gold from the bank to his house." 
" Yes. And, we also think, we know . . . Look here, 
you may as well call it a certainty. Gr^goire ... is a 
woman." 
" A woman ? " 
" F.xactly. His mistress. We have several proofs of it, 
But she's a trustworthy, capable woman, strong as a man and 
afrnid of nothing." 
■' Do you know her address ? " 
• No." 
" As to the gold ; have you no clue to its whereabouts, no 
suspicion ? " 
" No. The gold is in the garden or in the house in the 
Rue Raynouard. We saw it being taken in every day for a 
week. It has not been taken out since. We kept watch 
every night. The bags are there." 
" No clue either to Essares' murderer ? " 
" No, none." 
" Are you quite sure ? " 
" Why should I tell a lie ? " 
" Supose it was yourself or one of your friends ? " 
" We thought that you would suspect us. Fortunately, 
we happen to have an alibi." 
" Easy to prove ? " 
" Impossible to upset." 
" We'll look into it. So you have nothing more to reveal ? " 
■' No. But I have an idea ... or rather a question 
which you will answer or not, as you please. Who betrayed 
us ? Your reply may throw some useful light, for one person 
only knew of our weekly meetings here from four to five o'clock, 
one person only, Essares Bey ; and he himself often came here 
to confer with us, Essares is dead. Then who gave us away.? " 
" Old Simeon," 
Bournef started with astonishment : 
" What ! Simeon, Simeon Diodokis ? " 
" Yes, Simeon Diodokis, Essares Bey's secretary." 
" He? Oh, I'll make him pay for this, the blackguard! 
But no, it's impossible." 
" What makes you say that it's impossible." 
" Why, because . . ." 
He stopped and thought for some time, no doubt to con- 
vince himself that there was no harm in speaking. Then 
he finished his sentence : 
" Because old Simeon was on our side." 
■' What's that you say ? " exclaimed Patrice, whose turn 
It was to be surprised. 
" I say that 1 swear that Simeon Diodokis was on our side. 
He was our man. It was he who kept us informed of Essares 
Bey's shady tricks ft was ho who rang us up at nine o'clock 
in the evening to tell us that lissarcs had lit the furnace of the 
old hot-house and that the sicnal of the sparks was going to 
work. It was he who opened the door to us, pretending to 
resist, of course, and allowed us to tie him up in the porter's 
lodge. It was he, lastly, who paid and dismissed tha men- 
servants." 
" But why ? Why this treachery ? For the sake of 
money ? " 
■' No. from hatred. He bore Essares Bey a hatred that 
often gave us the shudders." 
" WTiat orompted it ? " 
" I don't know. Simeon keeps his own council. But it 
dated a long way back." 
' ' Did he know where the gold was hidden ? " asked M. 
Masseron. 
" No, And it was not for want of 1 unting to find out ! 
He never knew how the bags got out of the cellar, which was 
only a temporary hiding place." 
" And yet they used to leave the grounds. If so, how are 
we to know that the same thing didn't happen this time ? 
" This time we were keeping watch the whole way round 
outside, a thing which Simeon could not do by himself." 
Patrice now jiut the question : 
" Can you tell us nothing more about him ? " 
" No. I can't. Wait, though : there was one rather curious 
thing. On the afternoon of the great day, I received a letter 
in which Simr'on gave me certain particulars. In the same 
envelope was another envelope, which had evidently got there 
by some incredible mistake, for it appeared to be highly im- 
portant." 
" What did it say ? " asked Patrice, anxiously. 
" It was all about a key." 
" Don't you remember the details ? " 
" Here is the letter. I kept it in order to give it back to 
him and warn him what he had done. Here, it's certainly 
his writing . . ." 
Patrice took the sheet of notepaper ; and the first thing that 
he saw was his own name. The letter was addressed to him : 
" Patrice," 
" You will this evening receive a key. The door opens to 
doors midway down a lane leading to the river : one, on the 
right, is that of the garden of the woman you love ; the other, 
on the left, that of a garden where I want you to meet me at 
nine o'clock in the morning on the i4tli of April. She will 
be there also. You shall learn who I am and the object which 
I intend to attain. You shall both hear things about the 
past that will bring you still closer together. 
" From now until the 14th, the struggle which begins to- 
night will be a terrible one. If- anything happens to me, 
it is certain that the woman you love will run the greatest 
dangers. Watch o\er her, Patrice ; do not leave her for an 
instant unprotected. But I do not intend to let any- 
thing liappen to me ; and you shall both know the happiness 
which I have been preparing for you so long. 
" My best love to you." 
" It's not signed," said Bournef, " but I repeat, it's in 
Simeon's handwriting. As for the lady, she is obviously 
Mme. Essares." 
" But what danger can she be running ? " exclaimed Patrice, 
uneasily. " Essares is dead, so there is nothing to fear." 
" I wouldn't say that. He would take some killing." 
" Whom can he have instructed to avenge him ? Who 
would continue his work ? " 
" I can't say, but I should take no risks." 
Patrice waited to hear no more. He thrust the letter into 
M. Masseron's hand and made his escape. 
" Riie Raynouard, fast as you can," he said, springing into 
a taxi. 
He was eager to reach his destination. The dangers of 
which old Simeon spoke seemed suddenly to hang over Coralie's 
head. Already the enemy, taking advantage of Patrice's 
absence might be attacking his beloved. And who could 
defend her ? 
" If anything happens to me, Simeon had said." 
And the suppposition was partly realized, since he had 
^ lost his wits. 
" Come, come," muttered Patrice, " this is sheer idiocy 
. . . . I am fancying things . . . There is no 
reason . . ." 
But his mental anguish increased every minute. He 
reminded himself that old Simeon was still in full possession 
of his faculties 'at the time when he wrote that letter and gave 
the advice which it contained. He reminded himself that 
old Simeon had purposely informed him that the key opened 
the door of Coralie's garden, so that he, Patrice, might keep 
an effective watch by coming to her in case of need. 
He saw Simeon some way ahead of him. It was growing 
late ; and the old fellow was going home. Patrice passed 
him just outside the porter's lodge and heard him iiumming 
to himself. 
" Any news ? " Patrice asked the soldier on duty. 
" No, sir." 
" Where's Little Mother Coralie ? " 
" She had a walk in the garden and went upstairs half an 
hour ago." 
" Ya-Bon ? " 
" Ya-Bon went up with Little Mother Coralie. He should 
be at her door." 
[Continued on page 23) 
