<h3> THE VANISHING DIPLOMATIST </h3>
<p> </p>
<p>It was three days after the ambassador's
disappearance that Monsieur Rigolot, secretary
of the French embassy and temporary
<i>chargé-d'affaires</i>, reported the matter to
Chief Campbell in the Secret Service Bureau,
adding thereto a detailed statement of several
singular incidents following close upon it. He
told it in order, concisely and to the point, while
Grimm and his chief listened.</p>
<p>"Monsieur Boisségur, the ambassador, you
understand, is a man whose habits are remarkably
regular," he began. "He has made it a
rule to be at his desk every morning at ten
o'clock, and between that time and one o'clock
he dictates his correspondence, and clears up
whatever routine work there is before him. I
have known him for many years, and have been
secretary of the embassy under him in Germany
and Japan and this country. I have never
known him to vary this general order of work
unless because of illness, or necessary absence.</p>
<p>"Well, Monsieur, last Tuesday—this is Friday—the
ambassador was at his desk as usual.
He dictated a dozen or more letters, and had begun
another—a private letter to his sister in
Paris. He was well along in this letter when,
without any apparent reason, he rose from his
desk and left the room, closing the door behind
him. His stenographer's impression was that
some detail of business had occurred to him, and
he had gone into the general office farther down
the hall to attend to it. I may say, Monsieur,
that this impression seemed strengthened by the
fact that he left a fresh cigarette burning in
his ash tray, and his pen was behind his ear.
It was all as if he had merely stepped out, intending
to return immediately—the sort of
thing, Monsieur, that any man might have done.</p>
<p>"It so happened that when he went out he
left a sentence of his letter incomplete. I tell
you this to show that the impulse to go must
have been a sudden one, yet there was nothing
in his manner, so his stenographer says, to indicate
excitement, or any other than his usual
frame of mind. It was about five minutes of
twelve o'clock—high noon—when he went out.
When he didn't return immediately the stenographer
began transcribing the letters. At one
o'clock Monsieur Boisségur still had not returned
and his stenographer went to luncheon."</p>
<p>As he talked some inbred excitement seemed to
be growing upon him, due, perhaps, to his recital
of the facts, and he paused at last to regain
control of himself. Incidentally he wondered
if Mr. Grimm was taking the slightest
interest in what he was saying. Certainly there
was nothing in his impassive face to indicate it.</p>
<p>"Understand, Monsieur," the secretary continued,
after a moment, "that I knew nothing
whatever of all this until late that afternoon—that
is, Tuesday afternoon about five o'clock.
I was engaged all day upon some important
work in my own office, and had had no occasion
to see Monsieur Boisségur since a word or so
when he came in at ten o'clock. My attention
was called to the affair finally by his stenographer,
Monsieur Netterville, who came to me
for instructions. He had finished the letters and
the ambassador had not returned to sign them.
At this point I began an investigation, Monsieur,
and the further I went the more uneasy I
grew.</p>
<p>"Now, Monsieur, there are only two entrances
to the embassy—the front door, where a servant
is in constant attendance from nine in the morning
until ten at night, and the rear door, which
can only be reached through the kitchen.
Neither of the two men who had been stationed
at the front door had seen the ambassador since
breakfast, therefore he could not have gone out
that way. <i>Comprenez</i>? It seemed ridiculous,
Monsieur, but then I went to the kitchen. The
<i>chef</i> had been there all day, and he had not seen
the ambassador at all. I inquired further. No
one in the embassy, not a clerk, nor a servant,
nor a member of the ambassador's family had
seen him since he left his office."</p>
<p>Again he paused and ran one hand across his
troubled brow.</p>
<p>"Monsieur," he went on, and there was a tense
note in his voice, "the ambassador of France
had disappeared, gone, vanished! We searched
the house from the cellar to the servants' quarters,
even the roof, but there was no trace of
him. The hat he usually wore was in the hall,
and all his other hats were accounted for. You
may remember, Monsieur, that Tuesday was
cold, but all his top-coats were found in their
proper places. So it seems, Monsieur," and repression
ended in a burst of excitement, "if he
left the embassy he did not go out by either
door, and he went without hat or coat!"</p>
<p>He stopped helplessly and his gaze alternated
inquiringly between the benevolent face of the
chief and the expressionless countenance of Mr.
Grimm.</p>
<p>"<i>If</i> he left the embassy?" Mr. Grimm repeated.
"If your search of the house proved
conclusively that he wasn't there, he <i>did</i> leave
it, didn't he?"</p>
<p>Monsieur Rigolot stared at him blankly for
a moment, then nodded.</p>
<p>"And there are windows, you know," Mr.
Grimm went on, then: "As I understand it,
Monsieur, no one except you and the stenographer
saw the ambassador after ten o'clock in
the morning?"</p>
<p>"<i>Oui, Monsieur. C'est—</i>" Monsieur Rigolot
began excitedly. "I beg pardon. I believe that
is correct."</p>
<p>"You saw him about ten, you say; therefore no
one except the stenographer saw him after ten
o'clock?"</p>
<p>"That is also true, as far as I know."</p>
<p>"Any callers? Letters? Telegrams? Telephone
messages?"</p>
<p>"I made inquiries in that direction, Monsieur,"
was the reply. "I have the words of the
servants at the door and of the stenographer
that there were no callers, and the statement of
the stenographer that there were no telephone
calls or telegrams. There were only four letters
for him personally. He left them all on his
desk—here they are."</p>
<p>Mr. Grimm looked them over leisurely. They
were commonplace enough, containing nothing
that might be construed into a reason for the
disappearance.</p>
<p>"The letters Monsieur Boisségur had dictated
were laid on his desk by the stenographer,"
Monsieur Rigolot rushed on volubly, excitedly.
"In the anxiety and uneasiness following the
disappearance they were allowed to remain there
overnight. On Wednesday morning, Monsieur"—and
he hesitated impressively—"<i>those
letters bore his signature in his own handwriting</i>!"</p>
<p>Mr. Grimm turned his listless eyes full upon
Monsieur Rigolot's perturbed face for one scant
instant.</p>
<p>"No doubt of it being his signature?" he
queried.</p>
<p>"<i>Non, Monsieur, non!</i>" the secretary exclaimed
emphatically. "<i>Vous avez</i>—that is, I
have known his signature for years. There is
no doubt. The letters were not of a private
nature. If you would care to look at copies of
them?"</p>
<p>He offered the duplicates tentatively. Mr.
Grimm read them over slowly, the while Monsieur
Rigolot sat nervously staring at him.
They, too, seemed meaningless as bearing on the
matter in hand. Finally, Mr. Grimm nodded,
and Monsieur Rigolot resumed:</p>
<p>"And Wednesday night, Monsieur, another
strange thing happened. Monsieur Boisségur
smokes many cigarettes, of a kind made especially
for him in France, and shipped to him
here. He keeps them in a case on his dressing-table.
On Thursday morning his valet reported
to me that <i>this case of cigarettes had disappeared</i>!"</p>
<p>"Of course," observed Mr. Grimm, "Monsieur
Boisségur has a latch-key to the embassy?"</p>
<p>"Of course."</p>
<p>"Anything unusual happen last night—that
is, Thursday night?"</p>
<p>"Nothing, Monsieur—that is, nothing we can
find."</p>
<p>Mr. Grimm was silent for a time and fell to
twisting the seal ring on his finger. Mr. Campbell
turned around and moved a paper weight
one inch to the left, where it belonged, while
Monsieur Rigolot, disappointed at their amazing
apathy, squirmed uneasily in his chair.</p>
<p>"It would appear, then," Mr. Grimm remarked
musingly, "that after his mysterious
disappearance the ambassador has either twice
returned to his house at night, or else sent some
one there, first to bring the letters to him for
signature, and later to get his cigarettes?"</p>
<p>"<i>Certainement, Monsieur</i>—I mean, that seems
to be true. But where is he? Why should he
not come back? What does it mean? Madame
Boisségur is frantic, prostrated! She wanted
me to go to the police, but I did not think it
wise that it should become public, so I came
here."</p>
<p>"Very well," commented Mr. Grimm. "Let
it rest as it is. Meanwhile you may reassure
madame. Point out to her that if Monsieur
Boisségur signed the letters Tuesday night he
was, at least, alive; and if he came or sent for
the cigarettes Wednesday night, he was still
alive. I shall call at the embassy this afternoon.
No, it isn't advisable to go with you now.
Give me your latch-key, please."</p>
<p>Monsieur Rigolot produced the key and
passed it over without a word.</p>
<p>"And one other thing," Mr. Grimm continued,
"please collect all the revolvers that may be in
the house and take charge of them yourself. If
any one, by chance, heard a burglar prowling
around there to-night he might shoot, and in
that event either kill Monsieur Boisségur or—or
me!"</p>
<p>When the secretary had gone Mr. Campbell
idly drummed on his desk as he studied the face
of his subordinate.</p>
<p>"So much!" he commented finally.</p>
<p>"It's Miss Thorne again," said the young
man as if answering a question.</p>
<p>"Perhaps these reports I have received to-day
from the Latin capitals may aid you in dispelling
that mystery," Campbell suggested, and
Mr. Grimm turned to them eagerly. "Meanwhile
our royal visitor, Prince Benedetto d'Abruzzi,
remains unknown?"</p>
<p>The young man's teeth closed with a snap.</p>
<p>"It's only a question of time, Chief," he said
abruptly. "I'll find him—I'll find him!"</p>
<p>And he sat down to read the reports.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<SPAN name="CH13"><!-- CHAPTER 13 --></SPAN>
<h3> XIII </h3>
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