ent ropes dangling before them. But oddly, they seemed shrinking in stature, growing shorter and shorter, like inflated manikins from which the air is slowly escaping. They were melting, melting like bits of grease thrown into a heated frying-pan.
I shuddered in spite of myself. Even though they were conscienceless minions of a conscienceless master, stealers and torturers of defenseless women, I could not repress a feeling of nausea as the last of the four heads sank like a corkless bottle flung into a stream. A jet of sandy spray shot up from the level beach, a hand, opening and closing in a paroxysm of terror and despair, rose above the rippling sands, then all was still. The pale stars blinked unconcernedly down upon the bare stretch of smooth, unruffled beach and lapping, whispering water.
"Tiens, my friends," de Grandin flung away his cigarette and rose; "that appears to be that. Come, let us go."
"I can understand your wanting to rescue Fräulein Mueller, de Grandin," I remarked as we started on our homeward journey with the two women snugly stowed in the rear seat of my car, "but what was that remark you made about getting a souvenir when you left me in the hall?"
The little Frenchman's small white teeth gleamed under the line of his sharply waxed mustache as an elfish smile spread across his face. "Friend Trowbridge," he confided, "I have visited many interesting places in your so interesting country, but never yet have I lodged in a jail, nor am I wishful to do so. Think you I risked good money when I entrusted Mademoiselle Mueller to those villains' care? Not I. I did procure two thousand dollars in counterfeit bills with which she was to pay the wretches, and faithfully did I promise to return those notes to the police museum when I should have finished with them. It was to make good that promise that I left you in the hall."
"And Fräulein Mueller—had they released her when you found her?" I asked.
He suppressed a yawn. "Not quite," he returned. "They had her bound in a chair, and the lady called Laïla was standing guard over her with a wicked-looking knife when I entered. My friend, I greatly dislike manhandling a woman, but ladies who wish not to be mauled should not attempt to stick knives in Jules de Grandin. I fear I was forced to be less than entirely gentlemanly before I succeeded in releasing Mademoiselle Mueller and binding Laïla in the chair in her place. Eh bien, I tied her no tighter than was necessary to keep her in place until the police call for her."
"And?"
"More speed and less conversation, if you please, my friend," he interrupted. "Your house is yet a long distance away, and there is nothing to drink this side of your so adorable cellar. Come, as you Americans say, stand hard upon the gas."
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