The Secret Of The Magnifique - Sleep Story (Part One Of 2)

The Secret of the Magnifique by E.

Phillips Oppenheim Abridged by S.

D.

Hudson Part 1 A solitary man was waiting the service of his dinner at the magnificent buffet of the Gare de Lyon.

He sat at a table laid for three on the right-hand side of the restaurant and close to the window.

From below he could hear the turmoil of the trains and every few minutes the swing doors opened to admit little parties of travellers.

This solitary occupant scarcely ever moved his head yet he retained the air of one who always watches.

In appearance he was both unremarkable and undistinguished.

He was of somewhat less than medium height,

Of unathletic,

Almost frail physique.

His head was thrust a little forward as though he were afflicted with a chronic stoop and he wore steel-rimmed spectacles with the air of one who was taken to them too late in life to have escaped the constant habit of peering which had given to his neck an almost stalk-like appearance.

The man's thin hair and moustache were iron-grey and his fingers were long and delicate.

He had luggage with him and the labels were addressed in a trim scholarly hand.

Mr.

John T.

Latsworthy,

They read.

A maitre d'hôtel who was passing paused and looked at the two as yet unoccupied places.

Monsieur desires the service of his dinner,

He inquired.

Mr.

John T.

Latsworthy glanced up at the clock and carefully compared the time with his own watch.

He answered the man's inquiry in French which portrayed no sign of any accent.

In five minutes,

He declared,

My friends will have arrived.

The service of dinner can then proceed.

The man bowed and withdrew a little impressed by his customer's trim precision of speech.

Almost as he left the table the swing doors opened once more to admit another traveller.

The newcomer stood on the threshold for a moment looking round.

He carried a much labelled dressing case in his hand and an umbrella under his arm.

He stood firmly upon his feet and a more thoroughly British,

Self-satisfied and obvious person had to all appearance never climbed those stairs.

He had on a travelling suit of dark grey broad toe boots and a Homburg hat.

His complexion was sandy and his figure distinctly inclined towards corpulence.

He wore scarcely noticeable side whiskers and his chin and upper lip were clean shaven.

He had bright eyes and his mouth had an upward and humorous turn.

The initials upon his bag were W.

F.

A.

And a printed label upon the same indicated his full name as Mr.

W.

Forrest Anderson.

Both men were travelling via Paris.

His brief contemplation of the room was soon over and his eyes fell upon the solitary figure now deep in a book seated at the table on his right.

He set down his dressing case by the side of the wall yielded his coat and hat to the attendants and with a pleased smile of one who greets an old friend approached the table at which Mr.

John T.

Laxworthy sat waiting.

However,

Mr.

Laxworthy's method of receiving the newcomer was in some respects curious.

From the moment when the swing doors had been pushed open and the portly figure of Mr.

Anderson had crossed the threshold his eyes had not once quitted the heavy looking volume the contents of which appeared so completely to absorb his attention.

Even now when his friend stood by his side he did not look up once.

Slowly and with his hands still riveted upon the pages he was studying he held out his left hand.

I am glad to see you,

Anderson,

He said.

Sit down by my side here.

You are nearly ten minutes late.

I have delayed ordering the wine until your arrival.

Shall it be white or red?

Mr.

Anderson shook with much heartiness the limp fingers which had been offered and he took the seat indicated.

His friend's eccentricity of manner appeared to be familiar to him and he offered no comment upon it.

White if you please.

Shabbly of a dry brand for choice.

Sorry if I am late.

Beastly crossing,

Beastly crowded train.

Glad to be here anyhow.

Mr.

Laxworthy closed his book with a little sigh of regret and placed a marker within it.

He then carefully adjusted his spectacles and made a deliberate survey of his friend.

Finally he nodded slowly and approvingly.

How about the partridges,

He inquired.

Bad,

Mr.

Anderson declared with a sigh.

It was one storm in June that did it.

We went light last season though and I am putting down forty brace of Hungarians.

You see.

.

.

Mr.

Laxworthy touched the table with his forefinger and his companion almost automatically stopped.

Quite excellent,

The former pronounced dryly.

Don't overdo it.

I should think that this must be Sydney.

Mr.

Anderson glanced towards the entrance then he looked back at his companion,

A little curiously.

Mr.

Laxworthy had not raised his head.

How in the dickens did you know that it was Sydney,

He demanded.

Mr.

Laxworthy smiled at the tablecloth.

I have a special sense for that sort of thing,

He remarked.

I like to use my eyes as seldom as possible.

A young man who had just completed a leisurely survey of the room dropped his monocle and came towards them.

From the tips of his shiny tan shoes to his smooth brushed hair he was unmistakable.

Young and English and well bred.

He had a pleasant,

Unintelligent face a natural and pre-possessing ease of manner and he handed his holster to the attendant and beamed down upon the two men.

How are you,

Forrest?

How do you do,

Laxworthy?

He exclaimed,

Looking jolly fit,

Both of you.

Mr.

Laxworthy raised his glass and looked thoughtfully at the wine to be sure it was free from any atom of cork.

Then he inclined his head in turn to each of his companions.

I am glad to see you both,

He said.

On the whole,

I think that I may congratulate you.

You have done well.

I drink to our success.

The toast was drunk in silence.

Mr.

Anderson set down his glass,

Empty with a little murmur of content.

The young man opposite to him subjected the dish which was being offered to a long and deliberate survey through his eyeglass and he finally refused it.

Give me everything in France except the beef,

He declared.

Must be the way they cut it,

I think.

He glanced across the table.

To have satisfied such a critic as the chief here is an achievement indeed.

Now let us hear what he proposes to do with us.

There was a short pause.

Mr.

Laxworthy was continuing his repast which was by the by of a much more frugal character than he offered to his guests without any sign of having heard the inquiry addressed to him.

His companions knew him,

However,

And they were content to wait.

Presently he commenced to peel an apple and simultaneously to unburden himself.

A great portion of this last year,

He said,

Which you two have spent apparently with profit in carrying out my instructions,

I myself have devoted to the perfection of a certain scholarly tone which I feel convinced in my proper environment.

Incidentally,

I have devoted myself to the study of various schools of philosophy.

I'll take a liqueur,

Decided a young man whose name was Sidney.

A Grand Marnier if you please.

The same for me,

Said Mr.

Anderson.

Also in a few moments some black coffee.

Mr.

Laxworthy did not by the flicker of an eyelid betray the slightest annoyance of these interruptions.

He waited indeed until the liqueurs had been brought before he spoke again.

Even for some time after his friends had offered him their undivided attention,

He continued extracting from his apple with precise care every fragment of core.

Society is divided into two classes,

Those who have and those who desire to have.

The one must always prey upon the other.

They are therefore always changing places.

It is this continued movement that lends energy to the human race.

May we not hear more definitely what it is that you propose?

Anderson asked a little anxiously.

We stand,

Mr.

Laxworthy replied,

Always upon the threshold of the land of adventure.

At no place are we nearer to it than in this room.

It is our duty to use our energies to assist in the great principles of movement to which I have referred.

We must take our part in the struggle.

On which side,

You naturally ask,

Are we to be amongst those who have and who,

Through weakness or desire,

Must yield to others?

Or shall we take our place amongst the more intellectual,

The more highly gifted minority,

Those who assist the progress of the world by helping towards the redistribution of its wealth?

Sydney,

How much money have you?

395 francs and a few coppers,

The young man answered promptly.

It sounds more in French.

And you,

Mr.

Anderson?

Mr.

Anderson coughed.

With the exception of a five franc piece,

He admitted,

I am worth exactly as much as I shall be able to borrow from you presently.

In that case,

Mr.

Laxworthy said dryly,

Our position is preordained.

We must take our place amongst the aggressors.

The young man,

Whose name was Sydney,

Dropped his eyeglass.

One moment,

He said.

Andy here,

And I have exposed our financial impecuniosity at your request.

It can scarcely be a surprise to you,

Considering we've practically lived upon your bounty for the last year.

It seems only Faye should imitate our candour.

There were rumours a short time ago of a considerable sum of money to which you'd become entitled.

To tell you the truth,

The young man went on,

We were almost afraid that you might abandon this shadowy enterprise of ours.

Mr.

John T.

Laxworthy,

Without being discomposed,

Nevertheless,

Was somewhat taken aback.

He opened his lips as though to make some reply,

And then he closed them again.

When he did speak,

It was grudgingly.

No successful enterprise can be conducted without capital,

He said.

I am free to admit I am in possession of a certain amount of that indispensable commodity.

I do not feel myself called upon to state the exact amount,

But such money as is required for our journeyings,

Or for any enterprise in which we become engaged,

Will be forthcoming.

Mr.

Anderson stroked his chin meditatively.

I am sure,

He said,

That that sounds quite satisfactory.

I call it a jolly fine business,

The young man declared.

There's just one thing more upon which I think we ought to have an understanding.

You say we're to take our place amongst the aggressors.

Exactly what does that mean?

Mr.

Laxworthy looked at him coldly.

It means precisely what I choose it shall mean,

He replied.

Any enterprise or adventure which we may become engaged in will be selected by me,

And me only.

My chief aim,

I have no objection to telling you,

Is to make life tolerable for ourselves,

To escape the dull monotony of idleness,

And to embrace any opportunity which may present itself to enrich our exchequer.

Have you any objection to this?

None,

Mr.

Anderson declared.

None at all,

Sidney echoed.

There are three of us,

Mr.

Laxworthy went on.

We each have our use.

Mine is the chief of all.

I supply the brains.

My position must be unquestioned.

For my part I'm winning enough,

Sidney remarked.

It's been your show from the first.

Mr.

Forrest Anderson,

Who had dined well and forgotten his empty pockets,

Laughed a genial laugh.

I agree,

He declared.

Tell us when and where do we start,

And shall our first enterprise be Pipwickian,

Or am I to play the Sancho Panza to your Don Quixote and Sidney's donkey?

Mr.

Laxworthy regarded his associates coldly.

There was silence,

A silence which became somehow an ominous thing.

Around them reigned a babble of tongues,

A clatter of crockery below the turmoil of the busy station.

But at the table presided over by Mr.

Laxworthy,

No word was spoken.

Mr.

Anderson's geniality faded away.

His young companion's amiable nonchalance entirely deserted him.

Either of them would have given worlds to be able to dispel the strange effect of this silence with some casual remark.

But upon them lay the spell of the conqueror,

The little man at the head of the table,

Who was holding them in the hollow of his hand.

It may be,

He said,

At last breaking the silence,

I ask you to remember that no sense of danger would ever deter me from embarking upon any adventure which I deemed likely to afford us either diversion,

Wealth or satisfaction of any sort whatsoever.

We are not pleasure seekers.

We are men whose one end and aim is to escape from the chains of everyday existence,

To avoid the humdrum life of our fellows.

Therein may lie for us many and peculiar dangers.

Adopt,

If you will,

The motto of the pagans.

Let us eat and drink,

For tomorrow we die.

So long as you remember,

Will you drink with me to that remembrance?

Mr.

Laxworthy,

As he grew less enigmatic in his speech,

Became if possible more whimsical in his mannerisms.

He ordered the best cognac,

At which he himself scarcely glanced,

And turned with a little sigh of relief to his book.

In the midst of this hubbub of sounds and bustle of diners,

He continued to read with every appearance of studious enjoyment.

His two companions were content enough,

Apparently,

To relax after their journey and enjoy their cigars.

Nevertheless,

They once or twice glanced curiously at their chief.

One of these glances,

He seemed,

Although he never raised his head,

To have intercepted for carefully marking the place in his book,

He pushed it away and addressed them.

Our plans,

He announced abruptly,

Are not yet wholly made.

We wait here for,

Shall we call it an inspiration?

Perhaps even at this moment it is not far from us.

Mr.

Forrest Anderson and his vis-à-vis turned as though instinctively towards the door.

At that moment,

Two men who had just passed through were standing upon the threshold.

One was rather past middle age,

Corpulent,

With red features of a coarse type,

And his companion,

Who was leaning upon his arm,

Was much younger and a very different sort of person.

He was tall and exceedingly thin.

His features were wasted almost to emaciation.

His complexion was ghastly.

He seemed to have barely strength enough to move.

They are coming to the table next to us,

Laxworthy said in a very low tone.

The address upon their luggage will be interesting.

Slowly the two men came down the room.

As Laxworthy had expected,

They took possession of an empty table close at hand.

The young man sank into his chair with a little sigh of exhaustion.

A liqueur brandy quick,

The old man ordered,

As he accepted the menu from the waiter.

My friend is fatigued.

Sidney took the bottle which stood upon their own table.

He poured out a wine glass full,

And rising to his feet he stepped across and accosted the young man.

Do me the favour of drinking this,

Sir,

He begged.

The service here is slow and the brandy excellent.

I can see you are in need of it.

May it serve to as an aperitif.

The young man accepted it with a smile of gratitude,

And his companion echoed his thanks.

Very much obliged to you,

Sir,

He declared.

My friend here is a little run down and finds travelling fatiguing.

A passing malady,

I trust,

Sidney remarked,

Preparing to return to his seat.

A legacy from that cursed graveyard,

South Africa.

The older man growled.

Sidney stepped back and resumed his seat.

In a few minutes he leaned across the table.

Paradise Hotel,

He said under his breath.

Mr.

Laxworthy looked thoughtful.

You surprise me,

He admitted.

What do you know of them?

Anderson inquired.

Mr.

Laxworthy shrugged his shoulders.

Not much beyond the obvious facts,

He admitted.

Even you,

My friends,

Are not wholly deceived,

I presume,

By the young man's appearance.

They evidently were.

Mr.

Laxworthy sighed.

Let me assure you,

He said,

Your sympathy for that young man is entirely wasted.

You mean he's not really ill?

Sidney asked incredulously.

Most certainly he's not as ill as he pretends,

Mr.

Laxworthy declared dryly.

If you look at him more closely,

You'll discover a certain theatricality in his pose,

Which of itself should undeceive you.

You know who he is?

Sidney asked.

I believe so,

Laxworthy admitted.

I can hazard a guess,

Even to his companion's identity.

But the Paradise Hotel.

.

.

Order some fresh coffee.

We're not ready to leave yet.

Sidney,

Don't let them notice it,

But watch our friends there.

Something may happen.

A tall,

Broad-shouldered man with a fair moustache and wearing a long travelling coat entered the buffet.

He stood there for a moment looking around as though in search of a table.

The majority of those present suffered his scrutiny unnoticing,

Naturally absorbed in themselves and their own affairs.

Not so the two men who had last entered.

Every nerve of the young man's body seemed to have become tense.

His hand stole into the pocket of his travelling coat and with a little thrill,

Sidney saw the glitter of steel half shown for a moment between his interlocked fingers.

No longer was this young man's countenance the countenance of an invalid.

His face looked like the face of a wolf.

His front teeth were showing he had moved slightly so as to give his arm full play.

It seemed as though a tragedy were at hand.

The man who had been standing on the threshold deposited his handbag upon the floor near the wall and came down the room.

Laxworthy and his two associates watched.

Their two neighbours at the next table had a well-simulated indifference.

Only once more,

Sidney saw the gleam of hidden steel flash from the depths of the Ulster pocket.

The newcomer made no secret of his destination.

He advanced straight to their table and came to a standstill immediately in front of them.

Both the stout man and his invalid companion looked up at him as one might regard a stranger.

To all appearance,

Laxworthy was engrossed in his book.

Sidney and Anderson watched and listened but of all the words which passed between those three men none was audible.

Then at last the elder man touched the label attached to his dressing bag and they heard the words The Paradise Hotel will be there for at least a month.

The newcomer stood perfectly still for several moments as though deliberating.

The young man's hand came an inch or two from his pocket.

Chance and tragedy trifled together in the midst of that crowded room unnoticed save by those three at the adjoining table.

Then,

As though inspired with a sudden resolution this stranger,

Whose coming had seemed so unwelcome,

Raised his hat slightly to the two men with whom he had been talking and turned away.

The Paradise Hotel,

He repeated,

I shall know then when to find you.

The little scene was over.

Nothing had happened.

Nevertheless,

The fingers of the young man as his hand emerged from his pocket were moist and damp and his appearance now veritably ghastly.

His companion watched with a deep purple flush upon his face the passing of the stranger who had accosted him.

He had the appearance of one threatened with apoplexy.

One might be interested to know the meaning of these things Sidney murmured softly.

Their chief looked up from his book.

Then one must follow to the Paradise Hotel,

He remarked.