CHAPTER VII

THE CURIOUS FIGHT IN THE RESTAURANT

"It is a good deal to ask, Sir John," said Danjuro briskly, "but, for

the moment, will you place yourself entirely in my hands?"

"I am perfectly content to do so."

"Then permit me to press the bell." He did so.

"I left a black bag in the hall," Danjuro said politely when Thumbwood

came in. "Would you please let me have it?"

The bag was brought. Danjuro placed it on the table and opened it.

"You are very well known, Sir John," he remarked. "Major Helzephron and

his friends have either seen you at some time or other, or have

certainly seen the numerous pictures of you that have appeared in the

newspapers during the last few days. It is imperative that you change

your appearance at once. I foresaw that and have brought materials."

I am afraid I whistled with dismay. The idea didn't please me in the

very least. "Is it really necessary?..."

"Absolutely. But it will not inconvenience you. Will you go into your

bedroom and clip off your moustache with scissors, afterwards shaving

the upper lip clean? You see, the man who leaves London to-night must

not in the least resemble the Chief Commissioner of Air Police."

I went and did it. I had to. When the operation was over I shouldn't

have known myself, it made such a difference. I never knew that I had

such a grim and forbidding mouth!

I returned to the sitting-room. Mr. Danjuro did not make the least

comment, but he removed my collar and tie with the deftness of a barber

and fastened a towel round my neck. Then he sponged my skin all over

with some faintly pink stuff out of a bottle. When he had done that, he

began on my hair with something else, and finally my eyebrows.

"May I ask what you are doing?" I said after a time.

"I am dyeing your hair black, Sir John. The dye can be removed at any

time. The appearance is absolutely natural. The drug I am using is not

generally known. I procure it from a friend in the Honcho Dori at

Yokohama, and also the liquid which has already changed your skin from

blond to swarthy. I will treat your hands in a minute."

I suppose I was three-quarters of an hour under his ministrations

before he stepped back and looked at me critically. "Part your hair in

the centre, instead of at the side, wear a low collar instead of a high

one, and spectacles--they can be of plain glass--and you need not have

the slightest fear of recognition. In fact, Sir John, as far as outward

appearance goes, you have already ceased to exist!"

There was a mirror over the mantel-shelf. I stood up and looked. It was

marvellous! It was uncanny, too. A dark-haired, dark-skinned stranger

leered out of the glass at me, and I turned away with mingled feelings

of amazement and disgust.

"Do you drive an automobile?" the Japanese asked.

I jumped at the suddenness of the question, for my thoughts were far

away. "Yes, I have a touring car of my own in a neighbouring garage."

"It will be better not to use it. We shall take one of Mr. Van Adams'

cars. It is ready."

I laughed. "I've a lot to hear yet, you know, Mr. Danjuro, though I have

placed myself in your hands without reserve. But you made very sure of

me beforehand, didn't you?"

"It is Mr. Van Adams' command," he answered simply, and I reflected that

here, indeed, was a man with a single soul.

"We shall leave London at midnight," he went on, "and drive through the

whole of the night. I, also, am an expert chauffeur, and we can relieve

each other."

"Thumbwood can drive, too. Of course we take him with us?"

"He will be of the greatest assistance. Now, Sir John, if you want to

take a little sleep, now is the time. I should like to consult with your

servant, if I may, and have a chat with him. We shall have a good deal

to do with one another."

Strangely enough, I did feel drowsy, despite my excitement. A couple of

hours' sleep would refresh me wonderfully, and I knew it.

"Very well; I think it is a good suggestion. Say for two hours."

"By all means. I will carry out some other arrangements meanwhile. You

shall have full explanations later on, and I thank you sincerely for the

confidence you have reposed in me."

While we were talking we had left the room and crossed the hall.

"A pleasant sleep," he said, politely opening the door for me. "We will

go and have a look at Major Helzephron later on."

"_What?_" I shouted.

"He is in London. I have never seen him and I must certainly do so."

"In London?" I cried, a dozen conflicting thoughts crowding and

crushing into my mind.

"... It is the reason that we leave London to-night."

Then he had shut the door on me and was gone. I had known him less than

two hours. I was a man accustomed to rule, whose whole life was spent in

giving orders, and I lay down on my bed like a lamb without a further

question. And, what is more, I did exactly as Mr. Danjuro had said. I

fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

At a little after eight Mr. Danjuro and myself sat at dinner at the

Restaurant Mille Colonnes. Most people know that expensive and luxurious

home of epicures, with Nicholas, its stout and arrogant proprietor, and

M. Dulac, its famous chef.

We sat in the south gallery, at the extreme end, against the wall. The

electric lights in the roof above us had been extinguished, and our

table was lighted by candles in red shades. Indeed, we sat in a sort of

darkness which must have made us almost invisible to the other diners,

most of whom sat in the longer arm of the gallery at right angles to our

own.

We, on the contrary, could see everything. We could look over the gilded

rail into the hall of the restaurant below, and every detail of the

gallery on our own level was clear and distinct, though there was such

a towering erection of flowers and ferns in the centre of our table that

it obscured what would otherwise have been a perfect view.

I wore a low, turned-down collar and a dark flannel suit. Danjuro, also,

had changed his clothes, and, in some real but indefinite way, his

appearance. He wore a flannel suit and a straw hat, and also a necktie

which I suddenly spotted as that of my old college, Christ Church,

Oxford. But the extraordinary thing about him was that he seemed fifteen

years younger.

He had promised to explain at the "Mille Colonnes." As we began upon the

salted prawns and the stuffed olives he did so.

"You are now Mr. Johns, an Oxford tutor, Sir John. I am a young Japanese

gentleman, my own name will serve, whom you are coaching. We are going

into the country with this disguise. It is one which will easily account

for your being in the company of an Asiatic gentleman, and which you

will have no difficulty in sustaining."

It was, indeed, a simple and excellent plan for avoiding undue

curiosity. I said so, and then: "Now perhaps you will tell me where we

are going. I have my ideas...."

"We are going west," he answered gravely. "To Cornwall."

My heart beat fast. It was what I wanted him to say. "To the home of

Helzephron?"

"Yes. For it is there we shall be in the very centre of the web. In

those far western solitudes, despite the recent opening up of the Duchy

to tourists, there are still vast spaces of lonely moorland and

unvisited coast where one may walk for half a day and meet no living

soul. There is a great Hinterland between the little town of St. Ives

and the Land's End that for all practical purposes is unknown and

unexplored. Later on, I will show you certain maps.... It is in one of

the remotest spots of all that Major Helzephron has his house. I tell

you, Sir John," he continued, with a sort of passion, "that in those

lost and forgotten solitudes, where England stretches out her granite

foot to spurn the Atlantic, strange secrets lie hid to-day! On those

grey and lonely moors, where the last Druids practised their mysterious

rites, and which are still covered with sinister memorials of the past,

lies the explanation of the terror which is troubling the world! There,

and there only, shall we discover the secrets of the air, and--if human

skill and determination are of any avail--Miss Constance Shepherd!"

An obsequious waiter came with iced _consommé_. He was followed by the

great Nicholas himself, bulging out of his buttoned frock-coat--Nicholas

never wore evening dress--who bowed low and had a whispered

confabulation with Danjuro.

I remarked on this unusual honour. "I do what I wish here," the

Japanese replied. "It is, of course, through Mr. Van Adams. I hold this

place in the hollow of my hand--as you will presently see!"

He gave one of his rare and weary smiles, and then said quietly: "Please

do not get up or move. Major Helzephron has just come into the gallery!"

I could not have moved. His words turned me to stone.

"I felt sure," he went on, "that for a day or two Helzephron would show

himself in London. Knowing what we know--or at least suspect--such a

move was a certainty. He is in the habit of coming here. He booked his

usual seat at this restaurant, and his usual box at the Parthenon

Theatre--and for reasons obvious to you and me, if to no one else in the

world! I confess to an anxiety to look upon this man."

"You have had this corner darkened?" I said quickly. "No one can see

_us_ here?"

"Not clearly. And Helzephron would not know who we are if he did see us.

But, as he is sure to come upon us in Cornwall, it is better to take no

risks. To that end I have had a little device arranged for us which

proved of great service to me once in Chicago."

He bent forward to the mass of ferns and flowers in the centre of the

table, disarranging the greenery at its base. At once a green-painted

tube became visible, and then a slanting mirror, the size of a postcard.

"What on earth is that?" I whispered.

"An adaptation of the periscope!" he replied, taking a magnifying glass

from his pocket, adjusting it, and bending over the mirror. "The lens is

focussed upon Helzephron's table. With this magnifier I enlarge the

image in the mirror. Ah! So that is the honourable gentleman!"

A faint hissing noise came from him. His face stiffened into fixed and

horrible intentness as he stared through his magnifier at the little

oblong of mirror.

"Shi-ban, Go-ban, hei!" he muttered. "There are two, then. I expect the

younger man is the Honourable Herbert Gascoigne, of whom we have heard!"

The hissing noise continued, the ecstasy of attention did not relax for

two or three minutes.

At last Danjuro looked up. His face, which had seemed carved out of

jade, relaxed.

"Will you take my seat?" he said politely, handing me his reading-glass.

"A little drama will commence in a few minutes. It will interest you!"

I gave him a glance of interrogation as we exchanged chairs.

"We shall be in Cornwall to-morrow, and in advance of our friends," he

whispered. "But, in order that we may carry out our preliminary

inquiries quite undisturbed, I have thought out a little plan by which,

if all goes well, Major Helzephron will be detained in London for a day

or two--you will see."

Trembling with eagerness I stared down at the mirror.

The periscope was perfectly focussed. The addition of the reading-glass

made everything perfectly clear.

Two men in evening clothes were seated at a table. Their heads were

close together, and they were talking earnestly. One was a tall,

handsome boy of two-and-twenty, with a fair complexion and a reckless,

dissipated cast of face. Young as he was, evil experience had marked

him, and his smile was that of a much older man.

But I scarcely cast a glance on him as I stared at the coloured, moving

miniature of "Hawk Helzephron." The man's face was deeply tanned; above

the brows a magnificent dome of white forehead went up to a thatch of

dark red hair--the forehead of a thinker if ever I saw one. The face

below was seamed and lined everywhere. The thin nose curved out and down

like that of a bird of prey. The mouth was large, well-shaped, but

compressed, the chin a wedge of resolution. And, as he talked, I saw a

pair of slightly protruding eyes, cold and fierce. The whole aspect of

the man was ferocious and formidable to a degree.

"Watch!" whispered Danjuro.

I watched, and this is what I saw.

Into the picture came a thick-set, brutal-looking man, with a blazing

diamond in his shirt-front. He was passing Helzephron's table when his

dinner jacket caught a wine-glass and swept it to the floor.

The hawk-faced man looked up with a scowl and said something just as the

portly Nicholas and a waiter appeared in the background, as if passing

casually by.

The thick-set man bent down till his face was close to Helzephron's. He

said something also, with an unpleasant smile.

Instantly Helzephron leapt up and drove his fist full into the other's

face.

The fight that followed ended very speedily. The thick-set man took the

blow calmly. Then, without heat, and in a fashion which instantly told

me the truth of the matter, he set about Helzephron, hitting him where

and when he chose, until a shouting crowd of guests and waiters

separated the combatants and a policeman and commissionaire hurried them

away from the gallery.

During all the tumult Mr. Danjuro sat quietly smoking a cigarette.

"That was Mr. Wag Ashton, the pugilist," he remarked. "Honourable

Nicholas and the waiter saw that the honourable Helzephron struck him

first. I think the Major will be resting for a day or two before Mr.

Ashton summonses him for assault."

I felt faint with surprise and amazement.

"So you, you arranged ..."

He interrupted me. "Now let us finish our dinner in peace," he said.

"Some river trout, _meunier_, are coming."

An hour afterwards, with myself at the wheel, a huge sixty horse-power

limousine, loaded with luggage and with Messrs. Danjuro and Thumbwood

inside, was rolling down the Piccadilly slope.

To Penzance.