The Sins of Séverac Bablon, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  "THIRTY MEN WHO WERE ALL ALIKE"

  The room was so inconveniently crowded that dancing was a mere farce,only kept up by the loyal support of Mrs. Rohscheimer's compatriots. Thebulk of the company crowded around in intermingling groups, to theaccompaniment of ceaseless shuffling and murmuring which all but drownedthe strains of the celebrated orchestra. But lining the wall around wasa rank of immaculately groomed gentlemen who seemed to assume a closerformation as Haredale, from behind the palms, observed them.

  In two particulars this rank excited his curiosity.

  The individuals comprising it were, as Rohscheimer had pointed out,remarkably alike, being all of a conventional Army type; and they wereunobtrusively entering, one behind the other, and methodically taking uptheir places around the room!

  Even as he watched, the last man entered, and the big double doors wereclosed behind him!

  "What's this, Haredale?" came a hoarse whisper from Rohscheimer. "Whereare these Johnnies comin' from? Does Mrs. R. know they're here?"

  "Couldn't say," was the reply. "But it would be a simple matter for anumber of impostors to gain access to the house whilst dancing was inprogress, provided they came in small parties and looked the part."

  "Impostors!" growled Rohscheimer uneasily. "Don't you think they've beeninvited, then?"

  "Well, who shut those doors?" muttered Haredale, leaning across thelittle table the better to observe what was going forward.

  "You don't mean----" began Rohscheimer, and broke off, as the orchestradashed through the coda of the waltz and ceased.

  For stark amazement froze the words upon his tongue.

  Coincident with the last pair of dancers performing their final gyrationand the hum of voices assuming a louder tone, each of the men standingaround the walls produced a brace of revolvers and covered theparticular group nearest to him!

  The conversational hum rose to a momentary roar, and ceased abruptly.The horns of taxi-cabs passing below could be plainly heard, and thedrone and rattle of motor-buses. Men who had done good work in otheremergencies looked down the gleaming barrels, back to the crowds ofwomen--and had no inspiration, but merely wondered. Nobody moved. Nobodyfainted.

  "Held up!" came, in pronounced Kansas, from somewhere amongst the crush.

  "Quick!" whispered Haredale. "We're overlooked! Through theconservatory, and----"

  "Pardon me!"

  Rohscheimer and Haredale turned, together, and each found himselflooking directly into the little ring of a revolver's muzzle. A tall,slim figure in faultless evening dress stood behind them, half in theshadows. This mysterious stranger had jet black hair, and wore a blacksilk half-mask.

  The melodramatic absurdity of the thing came home strongly to Haredale.But its harsh reality was equally obvious.

  "Perhaps," continued the masked speaker, in a low, refined voice, andwith a faint, elusive accent, "you will oblige me, Mr. Rohscheimer, bystepping forward so that your guests can see you? Sir RichardHaredale--may I trouble you?"

  Rohscheimer, his heavy features slightly pale, rose unsteadily.Haredale, after a rapid glance about him, rose also, with tightenedlips; and the trio moved forward into full view of the assembledcompany.

  "The gentlemen surrounding you," said the man in the mask, slightlyraising his voice, "are all sworn to the Cause which I represent. Youwould, perhaps, term them anarchists!"

  An audible shudder passed through the assemblage.

  "They are desperate men," he continued, "indifferent to death, andwould, without compunction, shoot down everyone present--if I merelyraised my hand! Each of them is a social pariah, with a price upon hishead. Let no man think this is a jest! Any movement made without mypermission will be instantly fatal."

  _Dzing!_ went the bell of a bus below. _Grr-r-r!_ went the motor inre-starting. _OO-oo! OO-oo!_ came from the horn of a taxi-cab. Andaround the wall stood the silent rank with the raised revolvers.

  "I shall call upon those gentlemen whom I consider most philanthropic,"resumed the musical voice, "to subscribe to my Cause! Mr. Rohscheimer,your host, will head the list with a diamond stud, valued at onethousand guineas, and two rings, representing, together, three thousandpounds! Place them on that pedestal, Mr. Rohscheimer!"

  "I won't do it!" cried the financier, in rising cadence. "I defy you!I----"

  "Cut it!" snapped Haredale roughly. "Don't be such a cad as to exposewomen----" He had caught sight of a pretty, pale face in the throng,that made the idea of these mysterious robbers opening fire doubly,trebly horrible. "It goes against the grain, but hand them over. We cando nothing--yet!"

  "Thank you, Sir Richard!" said the masked spokesman, and waved aside thehand with which Haredale proffered his own signet ring. "I have notcalled upon you, sir! Mr. Hohsmann, your daughters would feel affronteddid you not give them an opportunity of appearing upon the subscriptionlist! The necklace and the aigrette will do! I shall post, of course, aformal receipt to Hamilton Place!"

  And so the incredible comedy proceeded--until thousands of pounds' worthof jewellery lay upon the pedestal at the foot of a bronze statuette ofPandora!

  "The list is closed!" called the spokesman. "Doors!"

  Open came the doors at his command, and revealed to those who could seeoutside, a double rank of evening-dress bandits.

  "The company," he resumed, "will pass out in single file to the whitedrawing-room. Mr. Rohscheimer--will you lead the way?"

  In sullen submission out went Rohscheimer, and after him his guests--or,rather, his wife's guests--until that whole brilliant company was packedinto the small white room. Someone had thoughtfully closed the shuttersof the windows giving on Park Lane, and securely screwed them; so that,when the last straggler had entered, and the door was shut, they were ina trap!

  "Listen, everybody!" came Haredale's voice. "Keep cool! You fellows bythe door--get your shoulders to it!"

  At his words, the men standing nearest to the door turned to executethese instructions, and were confronted by the following type-writtennotice pinned upon the white panels:--

  "A detailed subscription list will appear in the leading papers to-morrow, and it will doubtless relieve and gratify subscribers to learn that _the revolvers were not loaded_!"

  There was little delay after that. Within sixty seconds the door wasopen; within three minutes the wires were humming with the astoundingnews.

  Tom Sheard, his work completed, was about to leave the _Gleaner_ office,when--

  "Sheard!" shouted the news editor from an upper landing. "Amazingbusiness at Rohscheimer's in Park Lane! Robbery! Brigands! Terrific! Offyou go! Taxi!"

  And off went Sheard without delay.

  He entered Park Lane, to find that part of the thoroughfare adjacent tothe financier's house packed with vehicles of all sorts and sizes. Womenin full dress, pressmen, policemen, loafers, were pouring out andrushing in to Mr. Rohscheimer's residence! Never before was such a scenewitnessed at that hour of the night in Park Lane.

  As he passed under the awning, pressing his way towards the steps, heencountered an excited young gentleman who wore a closed opera hat, butwas evidently ignorant of his interesting appearance. This younggentleman he chanced to know, and having rectified the irregularity inhis toilet, from him he secured some splendid copy.

  "You see, I just dropped in to take a look round, and as I strolled up amob of jokers jumped out of a cab just in front of me, and we allcrawled in together, sort of thing. I happened to notice a footman goingupstairs and two of the jokers I spoke about behind him. They werelaughing, and so forth, and he was just on the first landing, when theynabbed him from behind--positive fact!--and threw the chap down on hisface! I'm thinking it's a poor kind of joke when the other two fellowsjolly well nobble _me_! Before I know what's up, I'm pushed into ananteroom or somewhere, and I hear these chaps banging the front door andrunning upstairs! I should have sung out like steam, only they'dhandcuffed me wrong way round and tied a beastly cork arrangement in mymout
h!

  "Just before I burst a blood-vessel it occurred to me that I might aswell keep quiet; so I sat on the floor listening; but I didn't hearanything for what seemed like an hour! Then there was a mob of fellowscame downstairs--and the door opened. They seemed to slip out in twosand threes from what I could gather, and by the time they'd nearly allgone a perfect pandemonium broke out, upstairs and down!

  "The servants--who'd all been locked in the cellar--got out first. ThenHaredale came bounding downstairs, and, luckily for me, heard me kickingat the door. Then everybody was rushing about! Rohscheimer was bawlingin the telephone! Some other chap was rushing for a doctor--for Adeler,who got knocked on the head in the library. Now here's the wretchedpolice arresting everybody who looks as though he'd been in the Army!That's all the beastly description anyone can give! They suspected DickLangley the minute they saw him, because he's got a military appearance!And I shouldn't be surprised to hear that they'd arrested every fellowin the Guards' Club!

  "Here's the thing, though: they've all got clean away! With about fortythousand pounds' worth of jewellery! It's a preposterous sort of thing,isn't it?"

  Sheard agreed that it was the most preposterous sort of thingimaginable; and, leaving his excited acquaintance, he set out to seekfurther particulars. But very few were forthcoming.

  As to the manner in which the clique had obtained admission, that calledfor little explanation. They had simply presented themselves, armed withinvitations, singly and in small parties, whilst dancing was inprogress, and in a house open to such mixed society had been admittedwithout arousing suspicion. There was little that was obscure orinexplicable in the coup; it was an amazing display of _force majeure_,an act of stark audacity. It pointed to the existence in London of ahitherto unsuspected genius. Such was Sheard's opinion.

  From an American guest, who had kept perfectly cool during the"hold-up," and had quietly taken stock of the robbers, he learnt that,exclusive of the spokesman, they numbered exactly thirty; were much of asimilar build, being well-set-up men of military bearing; and, mostextraordinary circumstance, were facially all alike!

  "Gee! but it's a fact!" declared his informant. "They all had moderatefair hair, worn short and parted left-centre, neat blonde moustaches,and fresh complexions, and the whole thirty were like as beans!"

  Two other interesting facts Sheard elicited from Adeler, who wore awhite bandage about his damaged skull. The whole of the guestsvictimised were compatriots of their host.

  "It is from those who are of my nation that they have taken all theirbooty," he said, smiling. "This daring robber has evidently strongracial prejudices! Then, each of the victims had received, during thepast month threatening letters demanding money for various charities.These letters did not emanate from the institutions named, but wereanonymous appeals. The point seems worth notice."

  And so, armed with the usual police assurance that several sensationalarrests might be expected in the morning, Sheard departed with thisenthralling copy hot for the machines that had been stopped to take it.

  When, thoroughly tired, he again quitted the _Gleaner_ office, it was todirect his weary footsteps towards the Embankment and the all-night carthat should bear him home.

  Crossing Tallis Street, he became aware of a confused murmur proceedingfrom somewhere ahead, and as he approached nearer to the river this tookdefinite form and proclaimed itself a chaotic chorus of human voices.

  As he came out on to the Embankment an extraordinary scene presenteditself.

  Directly in his path stood a ragged object--a piece of social flotsam--aunit of London's misery. This poor filthy fellow was singing at the topof his voice, a music-hall song upon that fertile topic, "the girls,"was dancing wildly around a dilapidated hat which stood upon thepavement at his feet, and was throwing sovereigns into this same hatfrom an apparently inexhaustible store in his coat pocket!

  Seeing Sheard standing watching him, he changed his tune and burst intoan extempore lyric, "_The quids! The quids! The golden quids--thequids!_" and so on, until, filled with a sudden hot suspicion, hesnatched up his hat, with its jingling contents, hugged it to hisbreast, and ran like the wind!

  Following him with his eyes as he made off towards Waterloo Bridge, thebewildered pressman all but came to the conclusion that he was thevictim of a weird hallucination.

  For the night was filled with the songs, the shouts, the curses, thescreams, of a ragged army of wretches who threw up gold in the air--whojuggled with gold--who played pitch-and-toss with gold--who ran withgreat handfuls of gold clutched to their bosoms--who pursued one anotherfor gold--who fought to defend the gold they had gained--who wept forthe gold they had lost.

  One poor old woman knelt at the kerb, counting bright sovereigns intoneat little piles, and perfectly indifferent to the advice of a kindlypoliceman, who, though evidently half dazed with the wonders of thenight, urged her to get along to a safer place.

  Two dilapidated tramps, one of whom wore a battered straw hat, whilsthis friend held an ancient green parasol over his bare head, appearedarm-in-arm, displaying much elegance of deportment, and, hailing apassing cab, gave the address, "Savoy," with great aplomb.

  Fights were plentiful, and the available police were kept busy arrestingthe combatants. Two officers passed Sheard, escorting a lean, raggedindividual whose pockets jingled as he walked, and who spoke of thedispleasure with which this unseemly arrest would fill "his people."

  Presently a bewildered Salvation Army official appeared. Sheard promptlybuttonholed him.

  "Don't ask me, sir!" he said, in response to the obvious question."Heaven only knows what it _is_ about! But I can tell you this much: noless than forty thousand pounds has been given away on the Embankmentto-night! And in gold! Such an incredible example of ill-consideredgenerosity I've never heard of! More harm has been done to our workto-night than we can hope to rectify in a twelvemonth!

  "Of course, it will do good in a few, a very few, cases. But, on thewhole, it will do, I may say, incalculable harm. How was it distributed?In little paper bags, like those used by the banks. It sent half thepoor fellows crazy! Just imagine--a broken-down wretch who'd lived onthe verge of starvation for, maybe, years, suddenly has a bag ofsovereigns put into his hand! Good heavens! what madness!"

  "Who did the distributing?"

  "That's the curious part of it! The bags were distributed by a number ofmen wearing the dark overcoats and uniform caps of the Salvation Army!That's how they managed to get through with the business withoutarousing the curiosity of the police. I don't know how many of themthere were, but I should imagine twenty or thirty. They were throughwith it and gone before we woke up to what they had done!"

  Sheard thanked him for his information, stood a moment, irresolute; andturned back once more to the _Gleaner_ office.

  * * * * *

  Thus, then, did a strange personality announce his coming and flood theBritish press with adjectives.

  The sensation created, on the following day, by the news of the ParkLane robbery was no greater than that occasioned by the news of theextraordinary Embankment affair.

  "What do we deduce," demanded a talkative and obtrusively clever personin a late City train, "from the circumstance that all thirty of the ParkLane brigands were alike?"

  "Obviously," replied a quiet voice, "that it was a 'make-up.' Thirtyidentical wigs, thirty identical moustaches, and the same grease-paint!"

  A singularly handsome man was the speaker. He was dark, masterful, andhad notably piercing eyes. The clever person became silent.

  "Being all made up as a very common type of man-about-town," continuedthis striking-looking stranger, "they would pass unnoticed anywhere. Ifthe police are looking for thirty blonde men of similar appearance theyare childishly wasting their time. They are wasting their time in anyevent--as the future will show."

  Everyone in the carriage was listening now, and a man in a corner asked:"Do you think there is any connection between the Park Lane andE
mbankment affairs, sir?"

  "Think!" smiled the other, rising as the train slowed into Ludgate Hill."You evidently have not seen this."

  He handed his questioner an early edition of an evening paper, and witha terse "Good morning," left the carriage.

  Glaringly displayed on the front page was the following:

  WHO IS HE?

  "We received early this morning the following advertisement, prepaid in cash, and insert it here by reason of the great interest which we feel sure it will possess for our readers:

  "'On Behalf of the Poor Ones of the Embankment, I thank the following philanthropists for their generous donations:"

  _(Here followed a list of those guests of Mrs. Rohscheimer's who had been victimised upon the previous night, headed with the name of Julius Rohscheimer himself; and beside each name appeared an amount representing the value of the article, or articles, appropriated.)_

  "'They may rest assured that not one halfpenny has been deducted for working expenses. In fact, when the donations come to be realised the Operative may be the loser. But no matter. "Expend your money in pious uses, either voluntarily or by constraint."

  "'(Signed) Severac Bablon.'"

  The paper was passed around in silence.

  "That fellow seemed to know a lot about it!" said someone.

  None of the men replied; but each looked at the other strangely--andwondered.