the detective stood closely against the door when he rapped upon it, and the moment it started to swing open in response to the summons he applied his strength against it so that it was flung inward with a force which nearly upset count jean de cadillac, who appeared on the other side. and with the same gesture nick forced himself across the threshold, followed instantly, of course, by antoine lafetre, who sought to close it again as quickly as possible.
but quick as he was, he was not soon enough to prevent the count from giving the signal of alarm, which lafetre well knew would be heard by one or more of the guards, and which in a short time would bring a horde of men thundering at the door in their chief’s defense.
in that first pressure against the door when he partly opened it, cadillac had recognized the presence of an enemy; it is doubtful if he did not at that instant also recognize nick carter; and even while he staggered back from the force of the blow which the weight of the door delivered against him, he placed a silver whistle to his lips and blew upon it.
but that was all. the door was closed and locked on the inside by antoine, who withdrew the key, and then stood with his back against it, awaiting orders; and he was as entirely calm as the detective himself.
[209]
as nick stepped into the center of the room and turned to confront the count, bessie harlan sprang, with a glad cry, from the embrasure of one of the windows, and almost threw herself into his arms. but she recoiled before she quite reached him, and shrank backward again with her hands to her eyes, for cadillac had drawn a revolver from his pocket and was in the very act of aiming it at nick carter’s heart.
he was prevented from firing, however, for a gleam of steel shot through the air, and a light, quick blow descended upon the count’s wrist, knocking the weapon from his grasp to the floor, and antoine said quietly:
“if monsieur le comte attempts to recover his weapon, i will spit him upon this rapier.”
nick carter laughed aloud. then he turned to bessie, who had now recovered somewhat; but she stood staring at him as if she could hardly believe her senses.
“i knew you would come to my rescue,” she said at last. “thank god you are here!”
“yes; i am here, miss harlan; very much here, as this double-dyed scoundrel shall soon discover,” replied nick.
but the count had now also recovered some of his accustomed coolness. he had retreated to the opposite side of the room, so that he had placed a table between himself and the detective; and nick turned again toward bessie.
“return to the window for a moment while i deal with this fellow,” said nick to her; but antoine stepped forward hastily.
[210]
“ah! monsieur,” he said, “i have the key of the door in my possession, so that he cannot get out; and the men who are coming this way—neither can they enter. then, afterward, there is another way out which the count does not suspect i know about, but which i will show to you. it is true that it leads through a part of the château, and that we will doubtless be obliged to fight, but it will not be like fighting a hundred men on the narrow stairway we have just ascended. and now, monsieur, i have a favor to ask of you.”
“a favor, antoine? what is it?”
“permit me to fight with the count with the rapiers. see; i will give him mine—so!” and he tossed his own gleaming weapon upon the table in front of the count. “and now, you will let me have the use of yours? is it not so? yes! ah, it would be child’s play for you to kill him—you, who have defeated me—antoine lafetre—as if i were a babe. it would not be an equal combat. shall it be so? yes. i thank you.”
“go ahead, antoine—if he will fight you. the mademoiselle and i will act as witnesses.”
antoine turned, with nick’s rapier in his grasp, and approached the table behind which the count still lingered.
“you are a dog,” he said quite calmly. “see! i treat you so!”
he withdrew a glove from his pocket, and after wadding it in his hand, threw it deliberately into the count’s face.
“it shall be fair play, count,” said nick, “if you have the courage and the skill to fight with antoine.”
[211]
but he need not have said it. at the blow of the glove, and because of a little, nervous laugh uttered by bessie harlan, the count seized the rapier from the table in front of him and leaped from his barricade into the center of the room.
in an instant the two were at it, and the fighting was rapid, furious, deadly.
nick knew that such a pace could not last, and for a moment he felt a qualm lest antoine should fall before the fury of the count’s attack. but he speedily discovered that there was no need for his misgivings, for the combat was as fatal as it was swift.
one lunge the count gave which seemed impossible for antoine to parry; nor did he do so. but he stepped quickly backward beyond the reach of the point, and then lunged forward his own weapon, so that he put the point of it, to the guard, straight through his adversary’s breast, piercing his heart.
it was all done so quickly, and it was over so suddenly, that neither of the spectators had time to realize it; and the stroke was so deadly that the count sank back upon the floor with only a sigh. he never uttered another sound after that.
bessie, when she saw him fall, ran quickly toward him and would have knelt beside him had not nick restrained her. the man was dead; and he died so suddenly that he had not even the time to turn his eyes toward the woman whose every sense of propriety he had outraged, but whom, withal, he had treated kindly and considerately to the end.
[212]
and then they were brought to themselves again by antoine, who was in the act of presenting the borrowed rapier to nick.
“permit me,” he said, bowing. “i did it with that trick i learned of you, monsieur, but now. and now, monsieur and mademoiselle, if you will but follow me—no? yes! listen! the smugglers are already on the stairs. in a moment they will be hammering at the door; but in an hour they will only just have broken it down. it is strong. it is reliable. below, where it is necessary that we emerge again into the interior of the château, it is possible that we may meet with opposition; but, monsieur, we will not anticipate. no. if you will but have the kindness to come with me now. see!”
he approached the high wainscoting at one side of the room and pressed against an invisible spring—invisible to the others, but plain to him—and a section of the wall opened before them.
“my father was fencing-master to monsieur jean’s father,” he said, simply, in explanation. “i learned the secret from him. aprez vous, monsieur, et mademoiselle? no? then be so good as to follow me. i will lead the way.”
the stairs which they descended were not unlike the others by which they had gained the tower-room, save that they were narrower; and it seemed to nick that they wound down and down, interminably. at last, however, they came to a halt at the foot of them.
“beyond is the corridor of the ground floor of the[213] château,” said antoine, pointing at a door in front of them.
“wait a moment,” said nick, as he was about to open the door. “antoine, i have a double duty to perform. i did not come here alone. i was accompanied by a friend—the one to whom the other letter is addressed.”
“max?” asked bessie.
“yes. he is here somewhere. he was to meet me at a point outside the castle, and he did not appear. it is possible that he has fallen into the hands of the smugglers, but it is also possible that he is still out there waiting, for i left a message for him if he should return. but if, on the other hand, he has been captured, i must first put you in a place of safety, and then——”
“will monsieur permit me?” asked antoine at this juncture.
“what, antoine?”
“if monsieur’s friend has been taken prisoner, i know where he would be confined. come! we will look there for him. it is on our way out.”
“antoine, you’re a treasure! lead on. bessie, have you got that gun yet?”
“yes; i have never parted with it for a moment, save once.”
“good! go on, antoine.”
they passed into the corridor. it was silent and deserted, but not dark, for here and there a light gleamed dimly through the massive hall.
along this and down another flight of steps they passed, and at last stopped before a heavy door, barred with iron[214] on the outside; and this bar antoine lost no time in removing.
“it is their prison,” he said; and threw the door open, but only to be thrown from his feet to the floor by the precipitate attack of maxwell kane, who had been waiting for just such an opportunity.
“great scott, nick!” he exclaimed, when antoine had been assisted to his feet and a few necessary explanations were made; “i didn’t expect to find you here, or i wouldn’t have come out so swift. i was pounced on from behind while i was waiting for you, a blanket was chucked over my head, and i was brought here and locked in before you could say jack robinson. that must have been a week ago, at least.”
“two hours and a half,” corrected nick.
“is that all?” then he gathered bessie under his arm and led her from the château, following nick and antoine.
there was no more fighting.
their progress out of the château was not impeded in any way, nor did they meet with interference across the causeway.
the place where they had left their conveyance was reached at midnight, and just as the sun was rising in the morning they succeeded in signaling the dolphin.
the united states vessel took them to a convenient harbor and left them there, for passage home via one of the liners; but the war vessel returned to the château de cadillac, accompanied by a french gunboat.
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of the resultant fate of the smugglers themselves, there is no record; but of the shadow, it is known that she was raised from the bottom, where she was resting, and ultimately delivered to her owner, who was a russian prince, for whom she had been built to order.
bessie harlan was restored to her friends, and the secret of her mysterious trip abroad was never divulged.
and monsieur antoine lafetre? and his beloved art? he returned to america with nick carter and maxwell kane, and is now a very successful fencing-master, thanks to nick’s patronage, whom the frenchman seems to regard as something more than human.
“mon dieu!” he will exclaim when nick carter’s name is mentioned. “monsieur carter is not a man, as you or me. he is, what you say, a genius. he is a master of the fence, and brave, ah! he is a wonder!”
