Knight Templar, or The Avenging Saint

'You can get ten miles an hour more out of that car than I can.'

'And I can fight twice as many men as you can, and move about twice as quietly, and shoot twice as fast. No, Roger, this end of the game is mine, and you must know it. And Sir Isaac Lessing we must have. Don't you see?'

'Damn it, Saint—'

There were depths of bitterness in Roger's voice that the Saint had never heard before; but Simon could understand.

'Listen, sonny boy,' he said gently. 'Don't we know that the whole idea of this part of the per­formance has been staged for Lessing's benefit? And mightn't there be one thing just a shade cleverer than keeping Lessing neutral? That's all we'd be doing if you had your way. But suppose we fetched Ikey himself along here—and showed him the whole frame-up from the wings! Lessing isn't a sack of peanuts. If Marius thinks enough of him. to go to all this trouble to josh him into the show as an active partner, mightn't it be the slickest thing we ever did to turn Marius's battle-axe against himself with a vengeance—and get Lessing not just neutral, but a fighting man on our side? If Lessing can say 'War!' to the Balkans, and have them all cutting one another's throats in a week, why shouldn't he just as well say 'Nix!'— and send them all toddling home to their carpet slippers? Roger, it's the chance of a lifetime!'

He took Conway by the shoulders.

'You must see it, old Roger!'

'I know, Saint. But—'

'I promise you shall be in at the death. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do now, but I'm putting off anything drastic until the last possible minute. I don't want to make a flat tire of our own private peepshow if I can possibly help it—not till Ike's here to share the fun. And you'll be here with him, bringing up the beer—rear—in the triumphal procession. Roger, is the bet on?'

They stood eye to eye for ten ticked seconds of silence; and Roger's bleak eyes searched the Saint's face as they had never searched it before. In those ten seconds, all that the Saint signified in Roger's life, all that he incarnated and inspired, all that they had been through together, the whole cumulative force of a lifelong loyalty, rose up and gave desperate battle to the seed of ugly suspicion that had been sown in Roger's mind nearly two hours ago, and devilishly fecundated by this last inordinate demand. The stress of the fight showed in Roger's face, the rebellion of unthinkable things; but Simon waited without another word.

And then, slowly, Roger Conway nodded.

'Shake, ' he said.

'Attaboy. ...'

Their hands met in a long grip, and then Roger turned away abruptly and swung into the driving seat of the Hirondel. The Saint leaned on the door.

'Touch the ground in spots,' he directed rapidly. 'I've got my shirt on you, and I know you won't fizzle, but every minute matters. And un­derstand—if you do have to prod Isaac with the snout of that shooting-iron, prod him gently. He's got to arrive here in good running order—but he's got to arrive. What happens after that is your shout. I'd have liked to make a definite date, and I'm sure you would, too, Roger; but that's more than any of us can do on a night like this, and we'd be boobs to try. If I can manage it, I'll be there myself. If I can't, I'll try to leave a note— let's see—I'll slip something under a rock by that tree there. If I can't even do that—'

'Then what?'

'Then I'm afraid, Roger, it'll mean that you're the last wicket up; and you may give my love to all kind friends, and shoot Rayt Marius through the stomach for me, raise what you can on my Ulysses and the photographs Dicky Tremayne sent me from Paris.'

The self-starter whirred under Roger's foot, and he listened for a moment to the smooth purr of the great engine; and then he turned again to the Saint.

'I'll be carrying on,' he said quietly.

'I know,' said the Saint, in the same tone. 'And if you don't find that note, it mayn't really be so bad as all that—it may only mean that I've had an attack of writer's cramp, or something. But it'll still be your call. So don't think you're being elbowed out—because you're not. Whatever else happens, you're more than likely to have to stand up to the worst of the bowling before we draw stumps, and the fate of the side may very well be in your hands. And that does not mean maybe.' He clapped Roger on the shoulder. 'So here's luck to you, sonny boy!'

'Good luck, Saint!'

'And give 'em hell!'

And Simon stepped back, with a light laugh and' a flourish; and the Hirondel leaped away like an unleashed fiend.

CHAPTER SIX How Templar threw a stone, and the Italian Delegate was unlucky

1

FOR A MOMENT the Saint stood there, watching the tail light of the Hirondel skimming away into the darkness. He knew so well—he could not have helped knowing—the hideous doubts that must have tortured Roger's brain, the duel between jeal­ousy and friendship, the agony that the struggle must have cost. For Roger could only have been thinking of the ultimate destiny of the girl who had been pitchforked into their lives less than twelve hours ago, who was now a prisoner in the house beyond the trees, from whom the Saint had al­ready plundered such a fantastic allegiance. And Simon thought of other girls that Roger had known, and of other things that had been in their lives since they first came together, and of his own lady; and he wondered, with a queer wistfulness in the eyes that followed that tiny red star down the road.

And then the red star swept out of sight round a bend; and the Saint turned away with a shrug, and glanced down again at the sea, where lay another red star, with a green one beside it.

In that, at least, he had deliberately lied... . The ship, he was sure, had been within a mile of the shore when he spoke; and now it had ceased to move. The rattle of a chain came faintly to his ears, and then he heard the splash of the anchor.

They had run their time-table close enough! And Roger Conway, with about a hundred and eighty miles to drive, to London and back, and a job of work to do on the way, had no mean gag to put over—even in the Hirondel. The Saint, who was a connoisseur of speed, swore by that car; and he knew that Roger Conway, for all his modesty, could spin a nifty wheel when he was put to it; but, even so, he reckoned that Roger hadn't a heap to beef about. Any verbiage about Roger having nothing to do that night would be so much apple­sauce. ...

'And pray Heaven he doesn't pile that bus up on its front bumpers on the way,' murmured Simon piously.

As he slipped into the shadows of a clump of trees, his fingers strayed instinctively to his left sleeve, feeling for the hilt of Belle, the little throwing-knife that was his favorite weapon, which he could use with such a bewildering speed and skill. Once upon a time, Belle had been merely the twin sister of Anna, who was his darling; but he had lost Anna three months ago, in the course of his first fight with Marius. And, touching Belle, in her little leather sheath strapped to his forearm, the Saintly smile flickered over his lips, without reach­ing his eyes....

Then, beyond the clump of trees, he stood be­side the wooden fence that walled off the estate. It was as tall as himself; he stretched up cautious fin­gers, and felt a thick entanglement of rusty barbed wire along the top. But a couple of feet over his head one of the trees in the clump through which he had just passed extended a long bare branch far over the fence. Simon limbered his muscles swift­ly, judged his distance, and jumped for it. His hands found their hold as smoothly and accurately as if he had been performing on a horizontal bar in a gymnasium; and he swung himself back to the fence hand over hand, pulled up with his arms, carried his legs over, and dropped lightly to the ground on the other side.

Fastidiously settling his tie, which had worked a fraction of an inch out of place during the per­formance, he stepped through the narrow skirting of forestry in which he had landed, and inspected the view.

In front of him, and away round to his right, spread an expanse of park land, broken by occa­sional trees, and surrounding the house on the two sides that he could see. Also surrounding the house, and farther in, lay the