Malplaquet, "this is my house. That is sufficient explanation for my presence here, I imagine. But I confess I am curious to know what this person"--he indicated Desmond--"is doing in my clothes, if I mistake not, giving what I take to be a very successful impersonation of myself."Then Desmond stepped boldly out of the shadow into the circle of light thrown by the lamp.
"I don't know what you all think," he said firmly, but it seems to me singularly unwise for us to stand here gossiping when there is a stranger amongst us. I fail to understand the motive of this gentleman in breaking into my house by my private door, wearing my clothes, if I am to believe my eyes; but I clearly realize the danger of admitting strangers to a gathering of this kind.""Quite right," agreed Behrend, nodding his head in assent.
"You have had one singular surprise to-night already," Desmond resumed, "in the matter of the jewel which our respected leader was about to show us: if you recollect, our friend was only prevented from giving us the explanation which he certainly owed us over his little hoax by the arrival, the most timely arrival, of his confederate...""Confederate?" shouted Mortimer, "what the devil do you mean by that?""Yes, confederate," Desmond repeated. "Max, Behrend, Mrs.
Malplaquet, all of you, look at this wretched fellow"--he pointed a finger of scorn at Bellward--"trembling with fright at the role that has been thrust upon him, to force his way into our midst, to give his accomplice the tip to clear out before the police arrive.""Stop!" exclaimed Mortimer, raising his pistol. Behrend caught his hand.
"We'll hear you in a minute!" he said.
"Let him finish!" said Mrs. Malplaquet, and there was a certain ominous quietness in her tone that startled Desmond.
As for Bellward, he remained silent, with arms folded, listening very intently.
"Doubtless, this double of mine," continued Desmond in a mocking voice, "is the bearer of the Star of Poland, the wonderful jewel which has required our beloved leader to devote so much of his time to a certain charming lady. Bah! are you going to let a man like this," and he pointed to Mortimer disdainfully with his hand, "a man who puts you in the fighting line while he amuses himself in the rear, are you going to let this false friend, this bogus spy, cheat you like this? My friends, my advice to you, if you don't want to have another and yet more disagreeable surprise, is to make sure that this impudent imposter is not here for the purpose of selling us all!"He raised his voice until it rang through the room, at the same time looking round the group at the faces of the spies to see how his harangue had worked upon their feelings. Max and Behrend, he could see, were on his side; No. 13 was obviously, undecided;Mortimer and Bellward were, of course, against him; Mrs.
Malplaquet sat with her hands in her lap, her eyes cast down, giving no sign.
"It's high time..." Mortimer began violently but Mrs. Malplaquet put up her hand and checked him.
"Better hear Bellward!" she said softly.
"I know nothing of what has been taking place in my absence," he said, "either here or outside. I only know that I escaped from the escort that was taking me back from Scotland Yard to Brixton Prison this evening and that the police are hard on my track. Ihave delayed too long as, it is. Every one of us in this room, with the exception of the traitor who is amongst us"--he pointed a finger in denunciation at Desmond--"is in the most imminent peril as long as we stay here. The rest of you can please yourselves. I'm off!"He turned and pressed the spring. The book shelves swung open.
Behrend sprang forward.
"Not so fast," he cried. " Yon don't leave this room until we know who you are!"And he covered him with his pistol.
"Fool!" exclaimed Bellward who had stopped on the threshold of the secret door, "do you want to trap the lot of us! Tell him, Minna," he said to Mrs. Malplaquet, "and for Heaven's sake, let us be gone!"Mrs. Malplaquet stood up.
