<h3> A RESCUE AND AN ESCAPE </h3>
<p> </p>
<p>Miss Thorne's voice startled Mr. Grimm a little,
but he had no doubts. It was Monsieur Boisségur. Mr.
Grimm was going toward the enframed figure
when, without any apparent reason, the ambassador
turned and ran along the hall; and at
that instant the lights went out again. For one
moment Grimm stood still, dazed and blinded by
the sudden blackness, and again he started toward
the door. Miss Thorne was beside him.</p>
<p>"The lights!" he whispered tensely. "Find
the switch!"</p>
<p>He heard the rustle of her skirts as she moved
away, and stepped out into the hall, feeling with
both his hands along the wall. A few feet
away, in the direction the ambassador had gone,
there seemed to be a violent struggle in progress—there
was the scuffling of feet, and quick-drawn
breaths as muscle strained against muscle.
The lights! If he could only find the switch!
Then, as his hands moved along the wall, they
came in contact with another hand—a hand
pressed firmly against the plastering, barring
his progress. A light blow in the face caused
him to step back quickly.</p>
<p>The scuffling sound suddenly resolved itself
into moving footsteps, and the front door
opened and closed with a bang. Mr. Grimm's
listless eyes snapped, and his white teeth came
together sharply as he started toward the front
door. But fate seemed to be against him still.
He stumbled over a chair, and his own impetus
forward sent him sprawling; his head struck the
wall with a resounding whack; and then, over
the house, came utter silence. From outside he
heard the clatter of a cab. Finally that died
away in the distance.</p>
<p>"Miss Thorne?" he inquired quietly.</p>
<p>"I'm here," she answered in a despairing
voice. "But I can't find the switch."</p>
<p>"Are you hurt?"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>And then she found the switch; the lights
flared up. Mr. Grimm was sitting thoughtfully
on the floor.</p>
<p>"That simplifies the matter considerably," he
observed complacently, as he rose. "The men
who signaled to me when you entered the embassy
will never let that cab get out of their
sight."</p>
<p>Miss Thorne stood leaning forward a little,
eagerly gazing at him with those wonderful
blue-gray eyes, and an expression of—of—perhaps
it was admiration on her face.</p>
<p>"Are you sure?" she demanded, at last.</p>
<p>"I know it," was his response.</p>
<p>And just then Monsieur Rigolot, secretary of
the embassy, thrust an inquisitive head timidly
around the corner of the stairs. The crash of
glass had aroused him.</p>
<p>"What happened?" he asked breathlessly.</p>
<p>"We don't know just yet," replied Mr.
Grimm. "If the noise aroused any one else
please assure them that there's nothing the matter.
And you might inform Madame Boisségur
that the ambassador will return home to-morrow.
Good night!"</p>
<p>At his hotel, when he reached there, Mr.
Grimm found Miss Thorne's card—and he drew
a long breath; at his office he found another of
her cards, and he drew another long breath. He
did like corroborative details, did Mr. Grimm,
and, of course, this—! On the following day
Miss Thorne accompanied him to Alexandria,
and they were driven in a closed carriage out
toward the western edge of the city. Finally
the carriage stopped at a signal from Mr.
Grimm, and he assisted Miss Thorne out, after
which he turned and spoke to some one remaining
inside—a man.</p>
<p>"The house is two blocks west, along that
street there," he explained, and he indicated an
intersecting thoroughfare just ahead. "It is
number ninety-seven. Five minutes after we
enter you will drive up in front of the door and
wait. If we don't return in fifteen minutes—come
in after us!"</p>
<p>"Do you anticipate danger?" Miss Thorne
queried quickly.</p>
<p>"If I had anticipated danger," replied Mr.
Grimm, "I should not have permitted you to
come with me."</p>
<p>They entered the house—number ninety-seven—with
a key which Mr. Grimm produced, and
a minute or so later walked into a room where
three men were sitting. One of them was of a
coarse, repulsive type, large and heavy; another
rather dapper, of superficial polish, evidently a
foreigner, and the third—the third was Ambassador
Boisségur!</p>
<p>"Good morning, gentlemen!" Mr. Grimm
greeted them, then ceremoniously: "Monsieur
Boisségur, your carriage is at the door."</p>
<p>The three men came to their feet instantly,
and one of them—he of the heavy face—drew
a revolver. Mr. Grimm faced him placidly.</p>
<p>"Do you know what would happen to you if
you killed me?" he inquired pleasantly. "You
wouldn't live three minutes. Do you imagine I
came in here blindly? There are a dozen men
guarding the entrances to the house—a pistol
shot would bring them in. Put down the gun!"</p>
<p>Eyes challenged eyes for one long tense instant,
and the man carefully laid the weapon on
the table. Mr. Grimm strolled over and picked
it up, after which he glanced inquiringly at the
other man—the ambassador's second guard.</p>
<p>"And you are the gentleman, I dare say, who
made the necessary trips to the ambassador's
house, probably using his latch-key?" he remarked
interrogatively. "First for the letters
to be signed, and again for the cigarettes?"</p>
<p>There was no answer and Mr. Grimm turned
questioningly to Monsieur Boisségur, silent,
white of face, motionless.</p>
<p>"Yes, Monsieur," the ambassador burst out
suddenly. His eyes were fixed unwaveringly on
Miss Thorne.</p>
<p>"And your escape, Monsieur?" continued Mr.
Grimm.</p>
<p>"I did escape, Monsieur, last night," the ambassador
explained, "but they knew it immediately—they
pursued me into my own house,
these two and another—and dragged me back
here! <i>Mon Dieu, Monsieur, c'est—!</i>"</p>
<p>"That's all that's necessary," remarked Mr.
Grimm. "You are free to go now."</p>
<p>"But there are others," Monsieur Boisségur
interposed desperately, "two more somewhere below,
and they will not allow—they will attack—!"</p>
<p>Mr. Grimm's listless eyes narrowed slightly
and he turned to Miss Thorne. She was a little
white, but he saw enough in her face to satisfy
him.</p>
<p>"I shall escort Monsieur Boisségur to his carriage,
Miss Thorne," he said calmly. "These
men will remain here until I return. Take the
revolver. If either of them so much as wags his
head—<i>shoot</i>! You are not—not afraid?"</p>
<p>"No." She smiled faintly. "I am not
afraid."</p>
<p>Mr. Grimm and the ambassador went down
the stairs, and out the front door. Mr. Grimm
was just turning to reenter the house when
from above came a muffled, venomous cra-as-ash!—a
shot! He took the steps going up, two at
a time. Miss Thorne was leaning against the
wall as if dazed; the revolver lay at her feet. A
door in a far corner of the room stood open; and
the clatter of footsteps echoed through the
house.</p>
<p>"One of them leaped at me and I fired," she
gasped in explanation. "He struck me, but I'm—I'm
not hurt."</p>
<p>She stooped quickly, picked up the revolver
and made as if to follow the dying footsteps.
Mr. Grimm stopped her.</p>
<p>"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "Let
them go." And after a while, earnestly: "If I
had dreamed of such a—such a thing as this I
should never have consented to allow you—"</p>
<p>"I understand," she interrupted, and for one
instant her outstretched hand rested on his arm.
"The ambassador?"</p>
<p>"Perfectly safe," responded Mr. Grimm.
"Two of my men are with him."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<SPAN name="CH15"><!-- CHAPTER 15 --></SPAN>
<h3> XV </h3>
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