Page:Weird Tales volume 11 number 02.pdf/57

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WEIRD TALES

"They call her Laila the Seeress," the girl replied with a shudder. "Her atelier is in Tecumseh Street; she——"

"Très bien," de Grandin broke in, "you will return to her and tell her——"

"I couldn't—I couldn't!" the denial was a wail of mingled terror and repulsion.

"Nevertheless, Mademoiselle," de Grandin continued as though she had not interrupted, "you will go to her tomorrow afternoon and tell her you have decided to hire a substitute to undergo the ordeal for you.

"Parbleu, but you will," he insisted as she made a half-frantic gesture of dissent. "You will visit her tomorrow, and Dr. Trowbridge and I will go with you. We shall pose as new-found friends who have agreed to finance your employment of an agent, and you shall suffer no harm, for we shall be with you. Meantime"—he consulted the tiny gold watch strapped to his wrist—"it grows late. Come; Dr. Trowbridge and I will take you to Monsieur Hopfer's house and see you safely within doors."

"But," she protested, snatching at his jacket sleeve as a drowning person might clutch a rope, "but, mein Herr, what of the Devil? I am afraid. Suppose he——"

A tiny network of wrinkles deepened suddenly about the outer corners of de Grandin's small, round eyes. From the side pocket of his dinner coat he produced a long-barreled French army revolver and patted its walnut stock affectionately.

"Mademoiselle," he assured her, "should Monsieur le Diable manifest himself to us, I think we have here the fire necessary to fight him. Come—allons—let us go."


"Just what is your idea of mixing up in this nonsense?" I demanded somewhat coolly as we drove home from returning Fraulein Mueller to her employer's house. "This looks like a plain case of hysteria to me, and what you expect to accomplish is more than I——"

"Indeed?" he answered sarcastically. "The brands on Mademoiselle Mueller's flesh, they, too, were perhaps marks of hysteria?"

"Well," I temporized, "I can’t exactly account for them, but——"

"But you are like all other good, kind souls who see no farther than the points of their noses and declare all outside that distance to be nonexistent," he interrupted with a grin. "Non, non, Trowbridge, my friend, I fear you are unable to recognize the beans, even when the sack has been opened for you. Consider, mon ami, think, cogitate and reflect on what we have witnessed this night. Recall the details of the young lady's story, if you please.

"Does not her experience point to a great, a marvelously organized criminal band as plainly as a road map indicates the motorist's route? I think yes. Alone and friendless in a strange city, she meets a woman who claims to come from her own country—after she has been told first what that country is. Is that only happen-so? I think no. The girl must have let slip the information that she has access to her master's safe and checkbook, and so she was deemed fitting prey for this criminal gang. Does not every step of her path of misfortune mark the trail these wicked ones followed to bring her to a state of desperation where she would be ready to commit larceny?

"What of the supposed demon who accosted her in the park tonight? She thought he was one, but I saw three men rise up from behind shrubbery and address her. I, too, saw their faces shine with fire, but it was not the fire of flame, as she believed. Mais non, did I not say it was like the light given off by rotting car-