E. Phillips Oppenheim

“ Tringe muttered.
“You have a complaint to make against Maurice Tringe,” Madame went on, turning to Andrew. “Can you put it into half-a-dozen sentences?”
“Less,” was the fierce reply. “We were brother officers. I saved his life. When he returned from the trenches to England, leaving me in hospital, I gave him a letter to my wife. I trusted him. I trusted her, for I know that at heart she was a good woman. He robbed me of my wife. He took her away and fled all over the world to escape my vengeance. I claim the man's right against the man who dishonors his wife—the right to kill.” ”

“ She was watching the approach of two figures along the winding footpath.
“You have had some very unhappy years, Andrew,” she admitted, “but for a man of your courage you are very morbid.”
“I find no rest because that man still lives,” he told her.
“Even then,” she protested, “you have let yourself slip into an impossible condition, To bear sorrow with dignity is the greatest discipline in life. Look at that woman who comes—our golf secretary. She has known a sorrow as great as yours. Still she has kept her self-respect. ”

“ He wandered round the cool and flower-perfumed apartments on the ground floor, until out on the piazza he found a small table set for one with an electric heater by the side. A footman served him silently with delicious coffee, rolls and butter, and an Unexpected omelet.
“'Pauline,' said Madame, 'you are concerned in this matter. Have you anything to say?'”
He ate with deliberate and self-respecting concealment of the fact that he was almost starving. When he had finished he lit a cigaret from the box which the man handed to him, and strolled to the farther end of the terrace. ”

“ It is too impersonal. In all our adventures I have never seen two men face to face—not in a polite duel, but one at least of them fired with the savage desire to kill.”
“What are you leading up to?” he asked bluntly.
“This,” she answered; “I have a proposition to make to you. You have decided to murder Maurice Tringe, and I find no moral reason why you should not. You desire your quittance from me and a certain amount of help. Both you shall have, on one condition. Wait here for Maurice Tringe. Let that murder take place under this roof and let it be stage-managed by me. ”

“ He is coming for his quittance, and he will not leave without it. I have studied murder from the psychological point of view. I know the niceties and the ethics of it. Leave it all in my hands, Andrew. Let it be I who say the word and our bargain is struck. In this house and with my help, Maurice Tringe cannot possibly escape. If you wander into Monte Carlo a pauper the chances are a hundred to one that you will never come across him at all. ”

“ If you have a spark of manhood left in you, you will die by your own. I am taking Andrew his revolver.”
She moved quietly toward the door, pausing on the way to set straight a vase of flowers. She passed out without a backward glance. Tringe was left alone. Outside, the deep midday stillness was broken only by the droning of the bees, the twittering of birds. Opposite to him was a tall clock ticking steadily. He sat with his eyes fixed upon the minute hand....
In the rose-screened corner of the balcony, the woman pleaded and Andrew listened.
“It is not for his life, I beg,” she declared. ”

“ Am I that sort of person?” she demanded. “I am a believer in justice. Mercy is the weakness of others. I promise that I will interfere in no way whatever except to choose the moment when you may strike. ”

“ I took a risk, et voilà!—this is the result!”
“A gambler can always recover,” Claire reminded him gently.
“Material things,' he assented. “Happiness is scarcely involved in the gain or loss of material things. In life those count so much less than the young believe.”
THERE was the sound behind of smooth footsteps—Madame's languid voice.
“The old Andrew,” she murmured. “Always moralizing! Claire, you had better set off on your walk. Let Hugh know who has arrived. See that he returns with you to luncheon.... So you, too, have found your way here, Andrew Sarle?” ”

“ Those things belong to the lives of ordinary men. It is so long since my own life has been empty of all save one thing, that I have forgotten.”
They drove on as far as the road went, to the verge of the great shingly beach, lapped by the Mediterranean. Andrew Sarle looked in one direction only. He ignored the beautiful neck of Antibes. He took no notice of a large sailing yacht close to the land. He looked stedfastly past Cap Ferrat toward Monte Carlo.
“It seems like a waste of time,” he muttered. “He is so near.”
“At midday to-morrow,” Madame reminded him, “he comes to you. ”

“ Most have been successful. Most have come to you shivering with fear lest they should be asked to flout the law at your bidding—to embroil themselves with the conventionalities in the carrying out of this last service. ”

“ Andrew Sarle confided. “I just wanted to feel that my moment had come—to feel that his life hung upon my impulse. It was a great luxury—a wonderful moment!”
“Give me another cocktail,” Tringe ordered.
A LITTLE chime of bells announced the service of luncheon. Madame rose to her feet.
“I beg,” she said, “that you will all remember my request. We are in a civilized country. Whatever may come afterwards, luncheon at least remains. Come! Claire this is Major Tringe, another of the protégés of my early life. Show him the way to luncheon.” ”

“ Tringe declared savagely. “Why doesn't he go to the law courts like any other reasonable person? Men don't kill one another nowadays for a thing like this. If they did there would be half-a-dozen murders in the paper every day.” ”

“ I can deal with Maurice Tringe in my own way.”
“Age has not corrected your impetuosity,” Madame yawned. 'Why make such a rush of life? Take a more comfortable chair and light a cigaret... You remember Cardinge? I think that he must have been reading Horace, for he has turned farmer and can think of nothing but his vintage. He will be here for luncheon.”
“I must move on,” Andrew Sarle declared. “My rags are not for your table.” ”

“ Andrew Sarle inquired.
Madame shook her head.
“Her husband is alive,” she said. “There are others who are unhappy.”
THE car came to a standstill again a few hundred yards farther on. Madame gave some instructions through the speaking tube. At the entrance to the valley they drew up, close to where a footpath from the golf links disappeared into a wood. Madame passed cigarets to her companion.
“Here we rest for a time,” she announced. “This is a spot I always love. Let your window down, Andrew. Do you smell the orange-blossoms?”. ”

“ If there is an account to be met, it must be met. So far as regards your personal safety you have, at the worst, a clear hour before you. I hold Andrew Sarle's word of honor that, for that time—until after the service of luncheon and we have had a brief conversation—your life shall be spared. ”

“ He shook his head. His eyes were seldom far away from that dusty strip of high road.
“I prefer to watch the road,” he said. “He may come at any minute.”
Madame passed him a telegraphic dispatch which had been brought to her some time before. He read it eagerly. It was dated from Monte Carlo early that morning:
Just arrived here. ”

“ There is William inside the salon. Let him look after you for half-an-hour and when you come down there will be an apéritif ready. Afterwards luncheon—then talk.”
“Supposing Maurice Tringe should arrive while I am here?” he asked, lingering.
“You need not consider us,” Madame replied. “Anything that must happen, must happen naturally. As a matter of fact, I do not think that there is any chance of it. Maurice reaches Monte Carlo to-night and will probably stay there.”
“If I remain,” Andrew Sarle stipulated, “will you provide me with the means of reaching Monte Carlo to-night? ”

“ For years everything that I have touched has gone to pot. I took two hundred pounds with me into the Rooms last night, and when I came out I couldn't tip the boy who gave me my hat. You all appear to have prospered by the look of you. ”

“ He's on the threshold of the grave. He is dead morally; he is dead spiritually, Why should you risk your life or your liberty for an idea? I have been lonely for so long, and there is Pauline, She is quivering with joy at the thought that she may see her father again.”...
Madame came through the window and approached them. She handed Andrew his revolver. ”

“ Madame pointed out icily, “if they did, men would probably leave their friends' wives alone. You see civilization does not always make for progress. I think the code of the Zulus, for instance who kill, is more moral than the code of the Englishman who goes to the law... ”

“ Tringe continued quickly, “that life is too big a price to pay for any sin. I do not believe in capital Punishment. The war changed all my views about that sort of thing.”
“The subject just now is rather personal,” Madame interposed drily. “Tell us, did you play last night at Monte Carlo, Maurice?”. ”

“ She has her child, her tiny villa, and she, who was born to every luxury, works for her living. What do you think of her, Andrew? She is still a beautiful woman.”
Andrew Sarle leaned forward and a little cry broke from his lips. He made a quick movement to rise and then collapsed in his seat. Madame pressed the button and the car started on. She unfastened the waistcoat of the man by her side and felt his heart. Andrew Sarle had fainted.
AN HOUR or so later she descended from her room and found Andrew lying in her own chaise longue on the piazza. He welcomed her eagerly. ”