A Triple Alliance

He led the girl out of the house. At the corner of the street a taxi was waiting. He opened the door.

"Where are we going?" she demanded suspiciously.

"To the Hotel Savoy, mademoiselle," he answered.

She hung back.

"Why should I go with you?" she asked defiantly. "I have never seen you before. I don't know who you are."

"Mademoiselle," he replied, "your friend is in great danger. He will not be able to help himself. If you do not come with me, you will not be able to help him. And I assure you that he needs your help."

She got in without another word. He placed himself beside her, and the car started. "Who are you?" she asked.

"My name," he told her, "is Dupont—Victorien Dupont. I arrived in London from Paris a few days ago."

"What have you to do with this?" she said doubtfully.

"That," he replied, "I cannot at the moment explain to you. I am concerned in this case for reasons of my own, which must remain my own for the present. I was in the garden when Christine Manderson was killed."

She started, staring at him.

"You were in the garden too?" she cried.

"I was," he affirmed. "And I know that Monsieur Layton did not kill her."

"He didn't!" she declared. "He couldn't kill anything. He spends his time giving life—not taking it."

"The police will be satisfied that he did, and they will have a strong case. Unless we can help him by discovering the truth in time, he will not be able to clear himself. Are you prepared to work for him?"

"I told you," she repeated passionately, "I would die for him." "It is well," he said. "There will be three people on his side. You—my friend, Mr. Tranter, who was also in the garden—and myself. Together we will save him. There will be separate tasks for us all. Mr. Tranter will be waiting at the hotel when we arrive, and we will settle our plan of campaign. Until then, mademoiselle, let us not refer to the subject again. Do me the favor thoroughly to compose yourself. In these matters coolness is of the utmost importance."

He compressed himself further into his corner, and closed his eyes. The girl said nothing more. The rapidity of the whole catastrophe, and the sudden appearance of this new adventure bewildered her. The huge mysterious stranger almost frightened her. Though his eyes were shut and he made neither sound nor movement, she felt that he was searching her, that he was straining all his mental forces to steal the thoughts that were throbbing through her mind. As they drew near to their destination, she fiercely exerted the self-control that was one of her least developed virtues, and by the time they reached the Savoy, and Monsieur Dupont opened his eyes, she was steady and watchful.

"Mademoiselle," said Monsieur Dupont softly, "you will be of the greatest assistance. Already you know the value of silence."

In his private sitting-room they found Tranter awaiting them.

"My friend," said Monsieur Dupont, "this lady will work with us. She is much attached to James Layton, and her assistance will be most valuable." He turned to her. "Mademoiselle, I have not the honor...."

"My name's Jenny West," she said, comprehending the request.

"Where is Layton?" Tranter asked, as Monsieur Dupont placed a chair for the girl, and sat down himself.

"By this time," Monsieur Dupont replied, "he will have arrived at Scotland Yard. Our friend Inspector Fay will question him, and he will certainly be detained. As I have just explained to mademoiselle, he is in great danger. Unless we succeed in our object, his position is without hope." Tears welled up in the girl's eyes, but she checked them with an effort.

"I wish," Monsieur Dupont continued, with careful emphasis, "that my own position also should be clearly understood, in so far as I am at liberty to explain it. I cannot yet tell you how I come to be interested in this affair. Soon I may do so—but until then you must be content to take me on trust, and to accept my assurance that I am fully qualified to direct you. Are you willing to follow my instructions without question—to save this innocent man, who will be accused of a horrible crime which he did not commit?"

"Yes, yes," the girl cried. "I am ready. I will do anything."

"And I," said Tranter.

"The directions I give may seem to be strange," Monsieur Dupont went on impressively—"but they must be followed. The errands on which I send you may seem to be unimportant and even foolish—but they must be carried out. Do not look for explanations, until I make them. I give account to no one. Those who work with me work much in the dark—but they reach the light. There must be no hesitation. Is that understood?"

Again the others agreed.

"Then," said Monsieur Dupont confidently, "we shall succeed. Layton will be saved—but it will be a hard and difficult task. The first law I have to impose on you is—silence. Complete silence, to every one except myself."

He turned to the girl.

"At three o'clock this afternoon, mademoiselle, unless you hear from me to the contrary, you will go to Scotland Yard, where Mr. Layton will be detained. That I shall verify by telephone. You will see him, and you will tell him this: You will say that I, Dupont, know how and why Christine Manderson died—that I, and those with me, will not allow the innocent to suffer—and that he shall be delivered from this charge. And say to him, also, anything from yourself that you may wish to say."

They were both gazing at him blankly.

"You know?" the girl gasped. "You know who killed her?"

The great Frenchman seemed to develop before their eyes into a figure of tremendous menace, every inch of him alive with implacable, relentless purpose.

"I know," he declared slowly, "just what I have told you—how and why she died. Ask me no more. Remember our conditions. There must be no questions until the time comes."

He rose, and took an envelope from his pocket.

"Certain things that I shall ask you to do, mademoiselle, may involve expense. In this envelope you will find a sufficient sum. Do not hesitate to accept it. Ample funds are at our command. When you return from Scotland Yard, report to me here. If I am not in, wait for me. And, above all, remember—silence."

He opened the door, and bowed her out. Then he turned to Tranter with a faint smile.

"Well, my friend?" he asked quietly.

"Do you really mean," Tranter exclaimed, "that you know the truth of the crime?"

Monsieur Dupont offered him a cigar, and lit one himself with great composure. "I know just as much about the crime, my friend, as I have said. I repeat—I know how and why that unfortunate woman died. Who, or what, caused her to die is another matter, which we are setting ourselves to solve."

"You are certain that Layton is innocent?"

"James Layton did not commit the crime," Monsieur Dupont returned firmly. "But he will be hanged for it—if we are not in time."

"Well," said Tranter, "what is there for me to do?"

"For you," replied Monsieur Dupont, "there is the most important task in the case, so far. And the most dangerous. Within twenty-four hours you must discover, and bring to me here, the secret of the Crooked House."

"Good Lord!" Tranter exclaimed, taken aback, "how on earth am I to do that?"

"I do not know," Monsieur Dupont admitted. "Nor have I any helpful suggestions to make. The method of procedure I leave to you."

"Housebreaking is entirely out of my province," Tranter objected. "And the secret of that house, if there is one, is likely to be very well guarded."

"Probably," agreed Monsieur Dupont. "But the fact remains that before the end of the next twenty-four hours I must have that secret—and you are the person who must bring it to me."

Tranter took up his hat and stick, without further protest.

"Very well," he said stoutly. "I will do my best."

Monsieur Dupont looked at his watch.

"It is one o'clock," he said, opening the door. "At one o'clock to-morrow I shall be waiting for you in this room."