Anthony Anstruther felt intolerably bored. For weeks he had wandered through London searching for excitement and adventure; anything to give a zest to life. But from north to south, east to west, nowhere in the metropolis had he found anything that was even calculated to raise his interest above the ordinary level. A city that newspapers and novels had persuaded him to believe was full of glamour, of thrills, had turned out to be entirely humdrum, commonplace to the last degree. It was most disappointing. He had found that strolling through the environs of Soho at dead of night was very nearly like walking through a graveyard. Visions of crooks, assassins, members of foreign anarchistic organisations had faded woefully at the deserted appearance of Greek Street, the apparent respectability of Old Compton Street, the peacefulness of Dean Street. It was the same down amidst the unsalubrious highways and byways of the East End and Dockland. All the excitement produced by the latter was a dog fight and the spectacle of a drunken sailor resisting arrest.
Anstruther was one of those fortunate young men with far more money than he could possibly spend in a lifetime. He had been in the army, but had resigned his commission because he found the life dull. Yet now he was regretting his action. There were certain interests in a peacetime military career; one had an occupation and, even if it were not exactly congenial, it gave one something to do. Civilian life was sheer ennui. The trouble with Anthony Anstruther was that he had been brought up wrongly. Ever since he was a child, he had been pampered and petted. In addition, he possessed an ultra-vivid imagination. Now at the age of twenty-six, he had become blasé to the last degree. That was why, thoroughly tired of the ceaseless round of useless gaiety indulged in by his circle of friends, he was feverishly searching for the excitement he craved. And, as is the way of anything for which one sets out assiduously to find in this world, it eluded him.
Eventually he gave it up, having reached the conclusion that there is no adventure or romance in modern England. It was then, of course, that he found himself suddenly plunged into more excitement, not to mention danger, than even he, in his most imaginative moments, had dreamt. Fate delights in playing that kind of trick.
He had taken a girl friend to the theatre; afterwards, at her request, had escorted her to a nightclub in Greek Street. She had never been to a place of that type and, possessing something of his imagination and romanticism, had expected to find herself amidst glamorous and thrilling people, quite unlike those of the circles in which she moved and had her being. He had warned her that she would be disappointed, but she had not listened to him, probably thinking his attempt at discussion was prompted by a belief that a girl of her breeding and refinement would be shocked by the ultra-Bohemianism of the denizens of a Soho nightclub. They had not been there more than a quarter of an hour before she reached the conclusion that she had been cheated. Everything fell so tremendously below expectations that she felt she had never been more disillusioned in her life. The patrons were mostly respectable-looking men and women in correct evening attire who danced together quite decorously, the proprietor was a dignified individual who might have been a retired naval officer; the band was composed of half a dozen bored musicians completely lacking anything in the nature of verve or fire. Only the three or four dance hostesses appeared in any way interesting, mainly because of their queer profession and the stories she had heard of the gold-digging propensities of their type. They were all extremely young girls, very much made-up, but well dressed, with that hard expression on their otherwise pretty faces that comes from preying upon impressionable men. The club itself consisted solely of a long room lined with tables and divans, the walls crudely painted with designs that suggested the artist was probably drunk when he executed them. Sonia Hardinge wondered why people attended such places; what interest or excitement they obtained from it. Others have pondered over the same problem. Human beings are queer creatures.
She and Anstruther danced a little; drank a little; nibbled at the sandwiches without which liquid refreshment could not be obtained. Then she rose.
‘I am utterly bored, Tony,’ she confessed. ‘Let me go.’
He picked up her wrap, which she threw over her arm, for it was a warm night in June, and they walked out of the place.
‘I told you you would be disappointed,’ he reminded her. ‘I have been searching for something exciting for ages, until I know London like a book, but there’s nothing in the whole of this city to raise even a thrill. It’s sickening.’
‘All nightclubs can’t be like this,’ she decided.
‘They’re all just as uninteresting. Some are more sordid and tawdry than others; that’s all.’
They walked towards Soho Square, where his car had been parked. Sonia was a pretty girl of the athletic type so typical of post-war femininity. She was tall and straight with a graceful carriage, fair hair, frank blue eyes, and aquiline features. She and Tony Anstruther, with his strong, good-looking face, and military bearing, made an attractive couple. They had almost reached the square, when she laughed softly.
‘You and I are both looking for something which life seems to deny us,’ she observed. ‘I almost think I shall be forced to accept one of your numerous proposals one of these days, in the hope that we shall be able to find a thrill in marriage.’
‘I wish you would,’ he murmured. ‘After all, I love you, Sonia, and you say you are fond of me. Why do you keep putting it off?’
‘Tony, you know very well, that we’re built all wrong for wedding bells just yet. If we were married now, we’d probably get bored with each other in a few months. When I marry you, my dear, I want to be sure of our happiness.’
‘Does that mean,’ he asked eagerly, ‘that you will marry me some day?’
‘I suppose so,’ she returned lightly; adding, with a little laugh, ‘unless I meet and fall in love with a fascinatingly glamorous international crook or something of that kind.’
‘I don’t believe there are any crooks,’ he grunted. ‘I’ve become convinced that the world is composed of commonplace, unattractive creatures who are as pure as driven snow. Good Lord! What a damned nerve!’
She glanced at him quickly on hearing his sudden exclamation; then her eyes followed his. They had reached the square were almost opposite his car, which was standing close to the railings of the little garden in the centre. A small tattered individual, who looked like a tramp, appeared to be busily engaged in covering the bodywork of the dark blue Bentley with chalk marks. Giving a snort of indignation, Anstruther hurried across the road, closely followed by Sonia. He pulled up dead and swore softly to himself as his eyes took in numbers of parallel lines drawn at right angles to each other. The car seemed to be covered with them. In the spaces between were sometimes noughts, sometimes crosses. The fact that a tramp had committed the sacrilege of playing the game, beloved of children, called Noughts and Crosses on his beloved car, for a few seconds caused Anstruther to lose all power of expression. Then he found his voice in grim earnest.
‘Here, you!’ he cried. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’
The small man looked up, and leered drunkenly.
‘’Lo,’ he greeted Tony. ‘Can’t yer see wha’ I’m doin’? Playin’ Noughts an’ Crosses, tha’s wha’ I’m doin’. Go ’way!’ He turned back to the car; made an erratic cross, and chuckled. ‘Tha’s done yer, m’beauty,’ he exclaimed. ‘See’f yer c’n beat tha’.’
Sonia’s sense of humour rose uppermost. A peal of delighted laughter rang out. The tramp straightened himself, turned, and regarded her with tipsy solemnity. He was a strange little man, not more than five feet in height, clothed in garments that had lost all right to individual terms. In fact, they looked like a heap of rags pinned and sewn together. Several days’ growth of beard adorned his face that was amazingly wrinkled and almost unbelievably dirty. His brown eyes, despite the heaviness that an overindulgence in strong liquor had caused, were extraordinarily sharp.
‘I’ve a jolly good mind to hand you over to the police,’ declared the indignant Anstruther. ‘Those blessed chalk marks will probably leave scratches. Hang it all! What on earth possessed you, you little worm, to select my car for your rotten game?’
‘Is’t your car, mate?’
‘Of course it is.’
‘Good. Then let’s play ’gether. You c’n be th’noughts; I’ll do cross – crosses. See?’
From among his rags, he produced a second piece of chalk, which he held out to Anstruther. The latter knocked it out of his hand and, striding forward, pulled open a door, rummaged under a seat, and produced a chamois leather.
‘Here,’ he ordered, pushing it into the tramp’s hand; ‘set to work and clean that car at once.’
The little man threw it on the ground; kicked it away with such violence that he staggered and almost fell.
‘Shan’t clean car,’ he hiccoughed. ‘Wanna play Noughts an’ Cr – Crosses.’
Anstruther became thoroughly exasperated. Retrieving the chamois from the road, he proceeded to rub off the chalk marks himself. At once a most unholy clamour of drunken protest rose from the tramp. Two or three people had already stopped to watch events. Now a crowd began to collect; windows of adjoining houses opened, and curious heads protruded. When the assembled throng gathered what all the fuss was about a great roar of laughter rent the air. Anstruther felt himself turning crimson, Sonia dived into the interior of the car, and stopped there. The tramp struggled desperately to prevent Tony from rubbing off the chalk marks.
‘’S not fair,’ he protested. ‘Jus’ ’cos y’know yer couldn’ beat me at Noughts an’ Crosses, yer won’ play.’
A man detached himself from the crowd, and strolled forward. He was a hunchback whose deformity reduced him to a height no greater than that of the tramp. His clean-shaven face was sallow and drawn, as though he habitually suffered much pain; his hair was jet black and rather unruly – he wore no hat. His features were nondescript and not unpleasant, with the exception of the eyes, which were dark, glittering, and restless, seeming to contain in their depths a suggestion of evil. Despite his unfortunate figure, his clothes fitted well and were of excellent material. He watched, for a few moments, the struggle still going on between Anstruther and the tramp; then he intervened.
‘Pardon me,’ he apologised to the former, in passable English but a thickness of utterance that was rather ugly, ‘I have not the intention of butt in for the curiosity. I t’ink I can manage the leetle man for you.’
Tony stood away from the tramp, and regarded the newcomer with interest.
‘I shall be very grateful if you can,’ he acknowledged, wiping his brow with a silk handkerchief. ‘He is beyond me.’
The hunchback stepped up to the little man, and touched him lightly on the arm. The latter swung round with a grunt.
‘Wha’ more of ’em,’ he grumbled. ‘It’s a trap, tha’s wharrit is. It’s a trap to gemme’ ’way fr’m my lit game.’
‘The motor car is not the place for to play the game. I have the slate. Come! I will show you how properly to play heem.’
‘D’you mean ter say yer think yer can play better’n me?’
‘I am the expert. No one have yet beat me.’
‘Garn! I’ll show yer. No one’s beat yer!’ He spat contemptuously in the road. ‘C’m on. I’ll show yer.’ He linked his arm in that of the hunchback; leered up at Anstruther. ‘Yer c’n have yer ole car,’ he remarked. ‘I don’ wannit.’
‘That’s all very well,’ grumbled Tony unwisely. ‘I think the little beast ought to clean away those marks before he goes. I can’t drive the car through London looking like that, and it will take me ages to do it.’
‘Do yer goo’, yer swine of a naris’crat,’ hiccoughed the tramp. ‘Your sor’s no goo’ – no goo’ ’t all.’
The hunchback shook his arm free; walked to the car, and peered in at the girl sitting there.
‘Madame,’ he observed, ‘if you and your frien’ will come to my house and wait for the leetle time, my servant will clean the car.’
‘It is very nice of you,’ she replied hesitantly, and her eyes met Tony’s inquiringly. Her instincts were naturally to refuse such an invitation, but here, she thought, was a chance of experiencing something a little out of the ordinary. She gathered from the expression in Tony’s eyes that he was thinking the same, but was leaving the decision to her. At once she made up her mind. ‘If you are sure it won’t be any trouble to you,’ she decided, ‘we shall be glad to accept, won’t we, Tony?’
‘Rather,’ he agreed heartily. ‘Of course,’ he added, ‘I shall insist on paying your man for doing the job.’
‘Do not mention it,’ protested the other. ‘And it will be no trouble for me to have you in my home, Madame. It will be the great honour.’
Anstruther helped the girl from the car. The hunchback, with a flourish of a long arm, indicated a house across the square, and began to lead the way.
‘Here, mister,’ called the tramp, ‘I don’ wanna play with aris’crats.’
‘You are going to make the play with me, my frien’. Come!’
Grumbling drunkenly to himself, the little man fell in behind. The crowd, amused still, began to disperse. It was mostly composed of people living in that district; southern Europeans, to whom laughter came easily. They considered they had been afforded a free and very entertaining show; turned their steps homeward with increased happiness.
Sonia and Anstruther were approaching the house, indicated as his residence by the hunchback, who was two or three yards ahead, when they were astonished to hear a voice behind them whisper urgently and without any sign of intoxication in it.
‘Don’t go into that house, as you value your lives. Make some excuse, return to the car, and drive away.’
They glanced over their shoulders, to see the tramp almost on their heels. He still continued to leer drunkenly, and was staggering in his gait. A whiff of his drink-perfumed breath reached their nostrils, and caused the girl to shudder with disgust. But only he could have uttered the warning. They were extremely puzzled; were quite unable to fathom such a mystery.
‘Did you speak?’ asked Sonia frigidly.
‘Wha’sat?’ with a loud hiccough from the man. ‘Don’ speak temme – yah, aris’crats! Of course I spoke,’ came immediately afterwards in a whisper. ‘Take my advice! You’re going into danger.’
Such a warning in their state of mind was calculated to have the opposite effect to that intended. The tramp was not to know this, however, and he grunted a remark that sounded like ‘Pig-headed fools’, as they continued on their way. Anstruther had reached the conclusion that he and the girl had unconsciously become involved in something of the nature of that for which he had so long been in search, and he meant to see it through. He regretted the fact that Sonia was present, but did not believe that any real danger could threaten them. However, as a concession to his conscience, he asked if she would rather not enter the hunchback’s house.
‘Of course we’re going in,’ she whispered. ‘I feel quite thrilled. The tramp man must be only pretending to be drunk, though he smells as though he’s swallowed a public house. Perhaps he’s a detective in disguise, Tony.’
‘Detective be blowed,’ muttered Anstruther contemptuously. ‘Detectives don’t play Noughts and Crosses on cars.’
The hunchback unlocked the door of a three-storied house and threw it open for them to enter. Sonia had had an idea that the buildings in that district were mostly devoted to tenements and flats; wondered what the hunchback wanted with a whole house. From the little she had seen of it, before entering a narrow, musty hall, she had concluded that, by daylight, it would look very dilapidated. The passage was in darkness.
‘Wait,’ came in the hunchback’s thick accents. ‘I will put the light. So!’
A single electric bulb flared into life, rendering visible the hall in all its nakedness. Except for linoleum under foot, it was completely devoid of furniture. A door on their right was opened, and Sonia and Anstruther shown into a room, which rather surprised them, after the appearance of the hall. It was not exactly luxurious, but it was comfortable-looking. The two easy chairs, the couch, were by no means new, but they were upholstered in good quality material that must have once appeared impressive. An oak bookcase filled the whole of one wall and was crammed with books, a sideboard was placed against another. A large table in the centre of the room with three chairs on each side and one at either end was covered with a red cloth. The carpet was attractive and thick while, on the huge old-fashioned mantelshelf, was a valuable clock, also vases of flowers.
‘This my sit-room,’ announced the hunchback. ‘I am landlord,’ he went on to explain, ‘that let the rooms to my countrypeoples.’
‘Are you French?’ inquired Tony.
‘No, no, no,’ was the emphatic reply. ‘Me I am Roosian. You like the Roosian?’ he asked Sonia.
‘Oh – er – yes, of course,’ she hastened to assure him, though she did not remember having ever met one before then.
‘I am please. Will you sit? I will send my servant Ivan to clean the car at once.’
‘I say,’ acknowledged Anstruther, ‘it’s jolly good of you to take all this trouble.’
‘It is the pleasure.’ He clicked his tongue as though annoyed with himself. ‘Ah! I forget the leetle man. I have the weakness for Noughts and Crosses and, too sad, I cannot play them mooch because mos’ people t’ink it is children’s games. When to your help I come, I am a leetle selfish, for I t’ink at last I find a man who like the game wi’ the passion of me.’
‘But,’ objected Tony, ‘he is a tramp – and drunk.’
‘What matter is that? Pardon, I mus’ go find heem.’
He hastened from the room. Sonia looked at Tony and smiled.
‘Noughts and Crosses!’ she murmured. ‘That tramp must have dreamt about there being danger here. A man who is keen on playing a kid’s game like that can’t be dangerous.’
‘Unless he’s mad,’ hazarded Anstruther.
‘O – oh!’ Sonia’s eyes opened wide. ‘I never thought of that. Do you think he is, Tony?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. He looks sane enough.’
‘He has queer eyes, though. Have you noticed them? There is something about them that seems – wicked. I can’t tell what it is; but, when he looked at me just now, I felt like shuddering.’
Anstruther laughed softly.
‘That little blighter of a tramp has made you imaginative,’ he remarked. ‘I wonder what happened to him. He followed us in, didn’t he?’
‘I don’t know – I didn’t notice. I should like to know why he was pretending to be drunk. He isn’t a tramp either – really a tramp I mean; he had such a nice, well-bred sort of voice when he warned us not to come in here.’
Anstruther stroked his chin thoughtfully.
‘You’re right; so he had. I hadn’t thought of that before. I hope there isn’t any actual danger, Sonia. I should never forgive myself, if I were the cause of anything happening to you.’
‘Don’t be silly! What could happen to me? Besides, I accepted the invitation to come here – you didn’t. Therefore, you wouldn’t be to blame if something did go wrong.’
‘I would. I backed you up.’
‘You’re not getting the wind up, old boy, are you?’ she scoffed. ‘After all, both you and I have been longing for a thrill. If we get one from the hunchback, we ought to be grateful.’ She sighed. ‘It’s too much to hope for I’m afraid.’
‘I say,’ he observed suddenly, lowering his voice to a whisper, ‘perhaps we shouldn’t be talking aloud like this. Someone may be listening.’
She laughed.
‘I believe you have got the jim-jams,’ she bantered.
‘I can’t help feeling a bit uneasy about you,’ he confessed. ‘If I were alone, I’d be all for an adventure, preferably with a spice of danger in it. Goodness knows I’ve been hoping and searching for something of the sort long enough. It’s a different matter to drag you in, though. The disappearance of the tramp has made me wonder, and I’ve had time to think. There must have been some reason for—’
The sound of voices outside the room interrupted him. The door opened, and the hunchback entered, escorting the ragged individual who had uttered the strange warning. Under the glare of the electric light, he looked more disreputable than he had done in the illumination diffused from the street lamps. His garments, if they could be dignified with such a description, were filthy, his hands and face repulsively dirty. Yet Sonia could not help feeling there was something attractive about him, despite the fact that he bestowed on Anstruther and her a most uncomplimentary and resentful scowl. The extraordinary number of wrinkles on his face and his magnetic brown eyes fascinated her. Apart from that, she was tremendously intrigued at the thought that his drunkenness was assumed. As he stood inside the room, swaying gently, she began to doubt if it was; he looked so completely intoxicated. Nevertheless, she could not forget the warning he had uttered in a completely sober voice.
‘I find heem,’ announced the hunchback unnecessarily. ‘He go back himself to the car and start the play again. I am sorry, but he not seem to like you. I have mooch trouble persuade heem to come in.’
‘Dir’y aris’crats,’ mumbled the tramp. ‘T’ hell wi’ all aris’crats – mo’ cars an’ jewels an’ money an’ food ’n’everythin’! Yah!’
He scowled again, hiccoughed loudly, and lapsed into silence.
‘You mus’ not mind heem,’ insisted the hunchback. ‘He do not mean the harm. I have send my servant to make clean the car. Soon it will be all right. Madame and sir, I regret I do not before introduce myself. I am Nicholas Karen, ver’ mooch to your service.’
‘We are greatly obliged to you, Mr Karen, for your kindness,’ responded Anstruther. ‘My name is Anthony Anstruther. This lady is Miss Hardinge.’
‘So!’ Karen bowed politely. ‘We now know each other. Please be seat.’ They sat side by side on the couch. ‘Maybe you are honger or thirst? Will you take the refreshment? It will not make the trouble.’ They thanked him, but declined. ‘Ah! You do not mind if I wi’ my frien’ play the game?’
‘Not at all,’ Tony assured him. ‘Go ahead! Miss Hardinge and I will watch.’
‘T’ank you. I will go fetch the slate. Excuse for the moment.’
He left the room, closing the door behind him. Tony and Sonia sat looking at the tramp, who still stood swaying slightly, his eyes sometimes wide open, sometimes very nearly closed, the very picture of sullen inebriation. They both were anxious to speak to him, but were not sure whether it would be wise. He settled the point for them, by addressing them in a whisper they only just heard. His lips did not seem to move.
‘Having got in,’ he breathed, ‘the question is how to get you out. Perhaps he means you no harm, but I can’t imagine his going out of his way to do anyone a good turn. No; don’t speak. This may be a trap. I don’t think he suspects me, but one never knows. Whatever happens, don’t by word or sign show that you think me anything but what I look. I’ve got to rely on you to that extent – can’t help myself. If there’s any trouble coming to you, I’ll do my best to get you out of it.’ Suddenly he raised his voice, and again spoke in thick, drunken accents. ‘Wharrer yer thinkin’ ’bout, you two, eh? Tha’s wha’ I wan’ to know. I’m’s good s’you ’ny day, an’ don’ yer forget it, see? If I wanter play Noughts an’ Crosses on yer bloomin’ car why shouldn’ I, answer me tha’ – why shouldn’ I?’ He waved his right arm in an emphatic gesture that almost caused him to overbalance. ‘If I’d m’way, I’d drown all aris’crat babies a’ birth, tha’s wha’ I’d do – s’truth I would, s’elp m’bob.’
The hunchback had returned during this drunken diatribe, and stood, for a moment, listening, a smile on his sallow face. He stepped forward as the little man showed signs of becoming violent; took him by the arm.
‘You please don’t mind heem,’ he advised the others. ‘He too mooch drunk to know what it is he say. Look,’ he added to the tramp, ‘I have the slate. We will play.’
He placed a large slate of the type used by small school children on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down, inviting his ragged guest to take another. The latter did so after fumbling ineffectually for a while and eventually needing help. He took the piece of chalk handed to him with a grunt of satisfaction.
‘Noughts me,’ he enunciated. ‘You c’n be cross-crosses.’
‘As you like, my frien’, but it would have been proper if first we have toss the coin.’
The tramp leered at him.
‘Not on yer life,’ he vowed. ‘P’raps yer would ’a called noughts, an’ I allus star’s we’ noughts – nev’ lose then. Are yer ready, pal?’
‘Yes, I am ready.’
‘Then off we goes.’
To Sonia and Tony sitting there watching, the scene was fantastic, incredible. That two men – even though one appeared drunk and a tramp, and the other a foreigner, a hunchback and possibly rendered eccentric through his deformity – should solemnly sit at a table and play Noughts and Crosses on a slate was almost beyond belief. Anstruther could not rid himself of the feeling that he was dreaming. The whole affair – the drunk tramp playing the game on his car, the interposition of the hunchback, the warning from the inebriated man in anything but an uncouth or intoxicated voice, and now the two queer individuals playing Noughts and Crosses on a slate, both appearing in deadly earnest – was of the absurd stuff of which dreams are made. There was nothing real about the situation. Sonia did not regard it in quite the same light as Tony. She was most struck by the humour of the circumstances and badly wanted to giggle. They had been much impressed by the whispered remarks of the little man during the absence from the room of Nicholas Karen and, more than ever, Anstruther felt he had been extremely foolish in allowing Sonia to enter the house. It was obvious to them both now that the tramp was playing a part, that he was no more drunk than they were, even though he looked it and exuded such an unpleasant odour of strong liquor. They had become intensely interested in him; wondered who he was, and what was behind his extraordinary pretence. Tony would have been delighted at the prospect of becoming concerned at last in something that promised adventure, had it not been for the presence of the girl. She, for her part, was feeling delightfully thrilled. The prospect of danger did not frighten her; on the contrary, she welcomed it. Probably that was because she did not really feel in her heart that any actually existed.
The two men at the table played Noughts and Crosses with the seriousness of experts engaged in a game of chess. This was most marked in the case of Karen, whose dark eyes grew almost feverish as he found the tramp, despite his drunkenness, a foeman worthy of his steel. The onlookers began to realise that there was more in the game, as played by these two utterly dissimilar beings, than they had thought possible. At last, the concentration of each and the deliberation with which the noughts or crosses were inserted on the slate seemed to indicate this. Karen won the first game, and gave vent to a chuckle of glee. The tramp grunted with disgust; made a remark under his breath that was not audible. The Russian had provided himself with a little sponge with which he rubbed out the filled-in diagram, after he had indicated his win with a short line at the top of the slate. The figure was drawn again. This time the little man won, and a line was put to his credit. Thus it went on, sometimes one, sometimes the other winning; each game taking a considerable time to play, because of the thought each man gave to his moves. It became very monotonous to the watchers on the couch. They wondered uneasily why the servant had not entered the room to announce that he had cleaned the car. He seemed to be taking an unconscionable time about it. Both Karen and the tramp appeared totally to have forgotten their existence. At last, as the two finished their tenth game, and the Russian boasted six wins to four, Anstruther touched Sonia on the arm, and rose to his feet.
‘I am sorry to interrupt, Mr Karen,’ he observed, ‘but it is time Miss Hardinge and I left. I am sure your servant must have removed the chalk marks from the car by now.’
The Russian looked up at them and, for the first time, they had actual indication that his friendliness had been assumed. The expression on his face was definitely antagonistic, and Tony became aware of the evil that lurked in his eyes of which Sonia had already spoken.
‘There is not the hurry,’ he remarked suavely. ‘Ivan will come at the right time.’
He turned again to the tramp, who had given no sign of the slightest interest. Appreciating the fact that he and Sonia had been invited into the house for some sinister purpose, but having not the slightest idea what it could be, Anstruther was now deeply incensed with himself. He gripped the girl’s hand protectively.
‘I regret having to insist,’ he declared firmly. ‘It is getting late, though. Miss Hardinge and I can let ourselves out without interference with your game. We’ll say goodnight, Mr Karen, and thank you very much for your hospitality.’
The Russian muttered something in his own language; rose from his chair.
‘Wait,’ he commanded harshly. ‘I will go to see Ivan.’
‘We’ll come with you,’ asserted Tony, showing quite plainly he objected to the other’s tone.
For answer Karen walked quickly to the door, opened it, and called along the passage to someone. The tramp took the opportunity of leaning across the table. Again his words came in a whisper that only just reached their ears.
‘I’m afraid you’re for it. Don’t know what the fellow wants with you, but you’re going to find out. Of course you’ll be indignant – who wouldn’t – but take care to include me in your annoyance. And trust me to get you out of the hole.’
‘How do you know we can trust you?’ came from Sonia who, anxious not to be overheard by the man at the door, did little more than move her lips.
The tramp understood her, however, and grinned slightly.
‘You haven’t any choice,’ he breathed; thereafter he took no further notice of them.
He was vigorously, though erratically, cleaning the slate, when Karen returned to them. Four men entered the room, and stood behind the hunchback. They formed a villainous-looking quartette and, for the first time, Sonia began to have qualms. One, big and burly, with a bushy fair beard, and hair that stuck up from his head like the quills on a porcupine, possessed the smallest and shiftiest eyes she had ever seen in a human face; another, of medium height, had a sallow face like Karen’s, the chief feature of which was a broken nose; the third was as nondescript, and of similar build to the second, with large teeth protruding from a loose mouth, giving him the appearance of wearing a perpetual grin. The fourth was perhaps the most striking. There was not a vestige of hair on his head, his face was dead white, and he had large fish-like, unblinking eyes. These might have been redeemed by eyelashes or brows but, as he had neither, his appearance was startling. He was as tall as the bearded man, but extremely thin, with long arms and talon-like hands. Altogether he was a repulsive object.
Karen touched the tramp on the shoulder. The latter leered up at him; then blinked foolishly as he caught sight of the four newcomers. Apparently he had not previously been aware of their presence.
‘S’truth!’ he muttered, ‘wha’s all thish? Whereish the beau’y chorush c’m from?’
The Russian smiled. Anstruther and Sonia, watching anxiously, had no reason to think that he bore the little man anything but the friendliest feelings. In fact, there was something almost affectionate in the smile.
‘You would like the drink – yes?’ he inquired.
‘Drink?’ echoed the tramp in the eager tone of a dying man in a desert sighting an oasis. ‘Mishter, you’ll shave m’life ’f you gimme drink.’
‘Good. After, we will resume the game.’ He turned to the bearded man, spoke rapidly in Russian; looked back at the tramp. ‘Go wi’ heem, my frien’. He will give you all the drink you want.’
The little man struggled to his feet; patted Karen on the arm with drunken affection.
‘You’re pal tha’s wha’ yerrar – a pal,’ he pronounced.
The Russian smiled again.
‘I like you also,’ he confessed. ‘Nevaire have I meet any man can play the Noughts and Crosses like you. You play so well drunk, how great mus’ you be not drunk!’
‘Drunk! Who shays I’m drunk?’ He paused, looked Karen in the face, and nodded solemnly. ‘Tha’s it,’ he agreed. ‘Knew some’ing was’h wrong. You’re ri’, pal, abs’lu’ly ri’ – I’m drunk.’
He followed the bearded man from the room, chuckling hoarsely, as though at some great joke. Directly the door had closed behind him and his companion, Karen drew up a chair, and sat down. He subjected Anstruther and Sonia to a long, insolent look, and now there was no mistaking the evil in his eyes.
‘Look here,’ protested Tony angrily. ‘What is the meaning of this? Who are these men? Am I to understand you intend keeping us here against our wills?’
‘Oh! So many questions you ask,’ returned Karen. ‘Sit down at the table, and we will talk – yes?’
‘I’ll be damned if I will,’ came violently from the young Englishman. ‘Miss Hardinge and I are leaving at once, and you will attempt to stop us at your peril.’
‘How fierce that is!’ he laughed, and made a remark in his own language to his followers, which seemed to cause them much amusement. ‘Well,’ he went on to the two who realised now they were, to all intents and purposes, his prisoners, ‘if you will not sit, you will stand. It makes no matter to me. The men wit’ me are my frien’s. I bring them to show you you will be mooch foolish to try run away. The leetle man I sent out of the room, because it is not wise he should hear what I say. It is true he is drunk; he also likes not the rich peoples, but he is English, and I do not take the risks. I like heem mooch, because he, the same as me, have the passion for the Noughts and Crosses game. Now listen, Monsieur, and you also, Madame. Tonight you will not go to the home. There is one leetle service from you I want. Two, three days maybe you are free. No harm is intended to you, if you are behave.’
‘This is outrageous,’ broke out Anstruther. ‘You can’t keep us here, do you understand?’ He turned to Sonia. ‘Come on, dear. We’re going.’
He walked to the door, Sonia following him closely. Karen did not say a word, but turned in his chair to watch events. Tony strove to push between the three men barring their way to the door. At once he was grasped by two of them and, though he fought desperately, found they were possessed of enormous strength. Before long he was rendered helpless. Sonia had been grasped by the man with the fish-like eyes. A scream was stifled at its inception by one of the talon-like hands and, despite her frantic struggles and several well-planted kicks on the shins of her assailant, she was soon as helpless as her companion.
‘How foolish!’ commented Karen. ‘I think it will be better you are tied.’
He spoke to the others, and left the room. Tony looked miserably at Sonia, whose eyes, practically the only part of her face visible, on account of the brutal hand covering her mouth, were horror-stricken.
‘Forgive me for getting you into this, Sonia,’ he pleaded. ‘I’ll never forgive myself. God! If I could only get my hands free! Let that lady go, you brute,’ he suddenly shouted. ‘Do you hear me? Take your filthy hand from her mouth.’
Fish-eyes grinned.
‘Not do – she make row,’ he replied. Apparently his knowledge of English was not very great.
Karen returned, carrying several lengths of rope. He assisted his followers to bind the two and, in a remarkably short space of time, they were trussed so tightly that they could neither move arms nor legs. They were unceremoniously dumped on the couch, from where Anstruther proceeded to give full vent to his outraged feelings. Karen stood over him listening; apparently much interested in the outburst.
‘You are mos’ stupid young man,’ he declared, when Tony paused for breath. He bowed mockingly to Sonia. ‘Madame, accept please the apology. I mooch regret that we are force to do this. Now maybe, you both listen. If you make the noise, you will be gag. Am I understand?’
‘Go ahead!’ snapped Tony. ‘Tell us what you want with us.’
‘Ah! That is better. Well, I tell you. I t’ink you are the ver’ rich young man and the lady also. Her clothes are mooch beautiful – you have the ver’ expensive motor car. I want from you five t’ousand pounds.’
‘Five thousand pounds!’ gasped Anstruther. ‘So that’s what you are; rotten bandit! Well, if you think you can bring your beastly foreign ideas into this country, and get away with it, you’ve made a mistake. Five thousand pounds, indeed! You can jolly well whistle for it, you swine.’
Karen bent over him, caught his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and gave it a cruel twist that brought involuntary tears to his eyes.
‘I like not that kind of talk,’ snarled the hunchback. ‘It is better you are more polite. Next time you are speak in that manner, Madame will suffer.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ stormed the young man.
‘No? Then watch, please.’
He turned to Sonia, took hold of her nose, and was about to subject it to the same treatment, when Tony cried out:
‘Don’t! For God’s sake, don’t!’
Karen stood regarding him mockingly for a few moments, still grasping Sonia’s nose. Then he released her.
‘I t’ink we onderstand each other,’ he observed, nodding his head, as though to confirm his own statement. ‘I am not the bandit. I am the head of a mooch good society what have beeg ideal. We need money – plenty of money, because the funds are ver’ low. Now, will you give me five t’ousand pounds?’
‘No; I’ll see you damned first.’
‘Good for you, Tony,’ applauded the girl.
She was very pale, but now that she had recovered from the first shock, there was the light of a great courage in her blue eyes. Karen shook his head slowly, almost, it appeared, sadly.
‘How unwise!’ he exclaimed. ‘I am sorry.’
‘Sorry!’ snorted Tony; ‘you’ll be more sorry when I’ve done with you. You are the fool, Karen. Do you think you can do this sort of thing in England? Why, if Miss Hardinge is not released before morning, there’ll be a search for her. The police will quickly find out where she is. You’ve forgotten the people who watched the fuss over the car, haven’t you? They heard you invite us to come here, and saw us accompany you. What about that, my fine fellow? What about the car standing in the square which your servant Ivan was supposed to clean?’
‘He clean it nice,’ returned Karen casually. ‘It look now ver’ pretty, and it wait outside the door. Soon it will take us all away – oh, so far from here. This house is only mine for the leetle while. One month more and my rent is finish. What matters one month? I have mooch better house. Tonight we go. Then what about the police? They mooch puzzle – huh?’
The faces of Sonia and Tony blanched. The trap into which they had fallen appeared to be closing tighter round them.
‘What’s the sense of taking us away?’ demanded Anstruther desperately. ‘Look here, let us go, and we will both promise to say nothing about what has happened.’
Karen laughed, turned, and explained what had been said to his three henchmen. They had been listening with interest, apparently finding great difficulty in following the conversation. When Tony’s offer was translated, they joined heartily in their leader’s laughter. The Englishman glared impotently at them.
‘But we waste the time,’ declared the hunchback. ‘Once more I offer you the freedom for five t’ousand pounds.’
‘How do you know I have so much money?’
‘If you not have it, you first time would have told me. I t’ink you ver’ rich young man, and Madame, also. I t’ink is rich. You will give – yes?’
‘How the devil can I get it, if you keep us trussed up like this?’
‘I will arrange. You have the cheque book?’
‘Supposing I have?’
‘Ah! That answer my question. It is evident you have it. You will write the cheque for five t’ousand pounds, and a letter also, to the bank for the manager to give money to bearer. You will say you and Madame go away for a leetle time, that is why you want the money. Then for four, five days you will be my guests, and no harm will come to you. After, you go to the home. Are you agree?’
The hunchback shrugged his deformed shoulders.
‘Then I am mooch sorry. You and Madame will be dead.’
Sonia shrank back with a little cry; Anstruther laughed, albeit a trifle unsteadily.
‘Of course you’re joking,’ he exclaimed.
‘Me, I nevaire make the joke. You will see. Madame and you can fink of it while we take you safe from here. At ten o’clock I will once more ask you. If you again refuse the leetle request, then p’ff! It is all ovaire – just like that!’
Despite his casual manner of speaking, there was no mistaking the threat underlying his tone. It was evident he meant everything he said. The expression on his face was utterly merciless and cruel; his wicked eyes held a gloating quality that suggested that he would as gladly murder them as receive the five thousand pounds he demanded. Tony was about to break forth into a fierce and bitter denunciation of the fellow, but realised, in time, that no good could come of giving further vent to his feelings. Their only sensible course was to appear to accept the position in the hope that the man posing as a drunken tramp would be as good as his word. He had said they must trust him to get them out of the hole. They had no alternative now. Anstruther would gladly pay five thousand pounds to ensure the safety of Sonia, but he felt, deep in his heart, that it would do nothing of the sort. They were as likely to be murdered once the money was paid over as they would be if he refused to give the cheque and the letter for his manager. He did not bother to consider then what the latter would think at receiving a communication of such a nature. That, after all, was a trifle. All his thoughts must be concentrated on saving Sonia.
‘What good would it do to murder us?’ he demanded.
‘Sooner or later the police would get on your track, and the inevitable end would be trial and execution.’
Karen laughed harshly.
‘Many I have kill,’ he stated. ‘What matters two more? Pah! You talk the foolishness.’
‘What guarantee have I,’ asked Tony, ‘that you will let us go if I arrange to get the money?’
‘Have I not say you will be free after two, t’ree days? But we waste once more the time. I wish resume the game wit’ my leetle frien’. You will be taken to another room until we ready to go away. Paul will watch you so you not make the noise. You like Paul – yes?’ he asked Sonia, indicating the hairless man, with the horrible fish-like eyes. She shuddered, and he laughed with evil amusement. ‘Paul do not like people shout for help. I t’ink he may do t’ings that hurt mooch. It better you keep ver’ quiet in the othaire room.’
Speaking rapidly to the three men, he was answered by nods and grins. Sonia was picked up as though she had been a baby by the man she loathed so greatly. Tony was carried from the room by the other two. They were conveyed up a narrow staircase, into a back room on the first floor that contained nothing but a bedstead, on which was a heap of dirty linen and blankets, a couple of chairs and a cheap dressing table. They were deposited on the bed side by side, and Paul sat down to watch them. The other two men left the room.