Chapter 2

So far my theory, that the disappearance of the
Prince was connected with the approaching execution of five Anarchists
in ----, has been borne out to the letter."

"Absolutely," replied the detective. "But having found that out my
duty is to inform my chief. The whole of these men may be captured."

"Quite so--but that won't give the Prince his freedom. As these men
were all at the meeting it is certain that they are none of them
responsible for the safe keeping of the prisoner."

"That's true."

"Therefore by arresting them you only make the Prince's situation
graver. You must bear in mind that he is held as an hostage. He is
to be liberated on condition the Anarchists of ---- are spared. The
wretches who have him in their power are not likely to be more
merciful to him because instead of five Anarchists being spared four
more have been arrested. You could have got Vossche at any time. The
only reason for seizing him to-night is to prevent him alarming the
others."

"And I've given my oath to Vossche's wife that for her information
her husband shall be allowed to get off."

"That I presume the authorities can easily arrange. There are plenty
of Anarchists and Fenians who are supposed to be at present in her
Majesty's gaols, who have been pardoned and are enjoying their
liberty--the price of their valuable information--in the colonies."

"Yes--of course that can be arranged in Vossche's case if we save
the Prince through his wife's information. But what I want to know
now is--now that we have ascertained that you were right, and the
Prince has been captured by the foreign Anarchists in London,
where are we going to find the captive? Vossche won't tell us."

"No. I told you if the Anarchists had the Prince we would find him
by to-morrow, and I didn't count then on getting the information
from Vossche or any of them. But Vossche may be useful in saving us
time, and every hour is of vital importance now."

"What can he do?"

"Guide us to the place where the Prince is concealed."

"He won't, I tell you, I know his character."

"He won't do it willingly, perhaps, but will you let me try an
experiment?"

"Certainly."

"Then go out now and search the prisoner and see if he has any
money about him."

"And if he has, I'm to take it?"

"No--leave it in his possession."

The Inspector, with a puzzled look on his face, went out to obey
Dorcas's directions. I turned to her eagerly.

"Do you really think you know where the Prince is concealed?"
I said.

"I have a very strong idea. Now Vossche has been arrested he may
confirm it. That will assist us to concentrate all our efforts in
one direction."

"You know a good deal about the Prince, I suppose?--or you have been
making inquiries to-day?"

"I don't know very much, but what I do know suggests very strongly
a clue to the means by which the Prince was secured. In the first
place," said Dorcas, "when Inspector Carr brought me all the
information he possessed I saw at once that it would have been almost
impossible for rough, suspicious-looking foreigners like those
Anarchists to have seized the Prince in the public thoroughfares
--even at night. He would not have ventured alone into by-ways and
alleys where such a thing was possible. It was evident that he was
going out with a definite object, and that object was not merely to
stroll through the streets. Had it been that, he would have been
accompanied by one of his suite, or if he had gone alone he would
have kept to thoroughfares where his capture would certainly have
attracted attention. A number of ruffians seizing a gentleman in
evening dress and dragging him away would have been noticed. If he
had been hustled into a cab the police would have found the cabman
by this. Therefore the conclusion is that he went out with the
intention of going somewhere, and he did not want his suite to know
where that somewhere was."

"You mean that, wherever he is, he was 'lured' there?"

"Certainly--and for a Prince to be lured into a trap the lurer must
be someone with whom he had a previous acquaintance. A Prince would
not accept an invitation from a stranger to meet her or to call upon
her late at night."

"_Her_--you think there is a petticoat in the case?"

"I am certain there is. Now look at the facts we have to go upon.
It is only reasonable to assume that the Prince went willingly and
unsuspectingly at the invitation of a lady to call upon her late in
the evening. It is certain that he is in the power of a number of
foreign Anarchists in London. The task then is to establish a link
between a lady who could induce the Prince to come out alone at night
and the men who through her action were able to keep him a prisoner,
and make his captivity a means to secure the reprieve of the condemned
Anarchists of ----."

"And there is such a woman?"

"Let us see. A month ago a mysterious paragraph went the round of the
London Press. A lady had been to a theatre, and had lost in the stalls
--or thought she lost there--a magnificent diamond ornament.

"The loss was advertised, and a description of the jewel given. A
few days later a mysterious paragraph appeared in the papers to the
effect that a well-known pawnbroker had read the advertisement, and
announced that the jewel was in his possession. He had at once
communicated with the lady, and had returned the jewel to her.

"Next day the manager of the theatre, considering that the paragraph
was a reflection on his staff, called upon the lady, with the result
that a further mysterious paragraph went the round of the Press. It
was to the effect that the lady had been mistaken in supposing that
she lost her jewel in the theatre. It had evidently been stolen from
her while she was getting into her carriage, and the thieves had
succeeded in getting it pawned by a woman who stated that she was
lady's-maid to the owner, gave the owner's correct address, and
pawned it in the ordinary way, but in the lady's name.

"The story interested me, and knowing the pawnbroker, I called upon
him and found that the jewel was the property of a Countess Elstein,
and he had the more readily accepted it from the lady's-maid, as it
bore an inscription which showed that it had formerly been in the
possession of a lady of the Royal house of ----, and the pawnbroker
--who, of course, had frequent dealings with the aristocracy--knew
that the Countess Elstein had been the morganatic wife of Prince
---- of ----. There was considerable scandal when the Prince married
the sister of the Queen of ----, and his connection with the Countess
was hinted at in several of the Society papers.

"I made inquiries, and found that the Countess had been in London
for some weeks, and was living in a house in the Inner Circle,
Regent's Park, a house standing in its own grounds, which she had
taken furnished for a period from the owner, who had gone abroad for
some time, having a wife in delicate health."

"And you really believe that it was the Countess Elstein--the
Prince's morganatic wife--who induced him to visit her last evening,
and that the invitation was a trap? What would a lady like that be
doing in an Anarchist conspiracy?"

"Let me finish," said Dorcas. "The moment the ornament was recovered
from the pawnbroker, no further notice was taken. I ascertained from
the police that the pawnbroker had not given them any information as
to the person who pawned it. He had been compensated by the Countess,
and she had personally requested that nothing further should be done
in the matter, as to bring the case into court would necessitate the
story of the bracelet being told. She did not wish the gift of his
Royal Highness Prince ---- of ---- to his morganatic and now
discarded wife to figure in the police reports. You know that I like
to investigate these little Society mysteries--they keep my hand in,
and one never knows when the facts may be useful. I found that the
Countess undoubtedly took the jewel with her to the theatre. It was
fastened on to her arm by her maid, a Frenchwoman, and I at once
jumped to the conclusion that the Frenchwoman was in the robbery--that
she had given information of her mistress's ornament, and certain
particulars which had helped the thieves to get possession of it. For
all we know, the thief might have occupied the next stall, and
followed the Countess out in the crowd. But the Countess did not
suspect her maid, or she would have discharged her, I suppose. The
maid's name is Zelie Vossche."

"Vossche!--why, that is the name of the Anarchist here now!"

"Yes, Zelie Vossche, who is maid to the Prince of ----'s morganatic
wife, is sister to Jean Vossche, one of the Anarchists who hold the
Prince as hostage for the safety of the condemned Anarchists of ----."

"That certainly establishes a link," I exclaimed, "but there is one
thing I don't see yet. I can understand you connecting the Prince's
mysterious absence from his hotel with the Countess Elstein, but why
did that suggest to you that there might be an Anarchist plot at the
bottom of the whole thing?"

"That came about from the conversation I had with Inspector Carr
this morning. He had a theory that the Prince was engaged in some
affair of gallantry, and I at once told him that if there was a lady
in the case it was probably the Countess. Then I told him the story
of the diamond bracelet, and that I suspected the robbery had been
'put up' by the maid, Zelie Vossche.

"He was startled at the name, and at once told me that a Jean Vossche
was one of a group of Anarchists at present in London about whom the
police were uneasy, as they appeared to be meditating some big coup.
That there was a Vossche resident in the house of the Prince's
morganatic wife, and a Vossche a dangerous Anarchist, at once caused
me to connect the Prince's disappearance with an Anarchist plot, and
I remember that the papers had reported that the Anarchists of Europe
had forwarded several threatening letters to the authorities in ----
in connection with the approaching executions there. Then the
Inspector told me that he could, he thought, get at Vossche's wife,
and find out at least what Vossche was doing if he approached her
with an offer which would be to her husband's benefit. I determined
that we would at once follow the clue in that direction as far as we
could, and I think you will acknowledge that events have so far quite
justified my plan of action."

"Indeed they have," I replied, "and in a most remarkable manner.
But here comes the Inspector."

"Well," said Dorcas, turning to the detective, "what have you found
on Vossche?"

"Nothing that will be useful to us. He has no papers at all, and he
refuses to say anything."

"Any money?"

"Yes, he has three sovereigns in his waistcoat and about twelve
shillings in loose silver in his pocket."

"Where you left them, I hope?"

"Yes--as you wished it."

"Very well then. Can you drive?"

"Drive? Yes, I can--but whatever do you want to know that for?"

"Send out and get a hansom cab to the door. The police will
satisfy the man it is all right. You must put on his coat and badge,
get an old hat--there's sure to be one here that will come down
well over your forehead--turn up your coat collar, get up on the
box, and drive a little way away. There are no cabs in this
neighbourhood at this time of night, so you'll have to send to the
stand, which is a quarter of a mile away, for one. Let them bring
a hansom or four-wheeler--it doesn't matter which. Send at
once."

The Inspector went out and instructed the officer in charge, and
presently returned and said a cab had been sent for.

"Very well--the police must requisition it for you when it comes. They
will undertake to let the driver have his cab again to-morrow morning,
and you'll pay him liberally for taking his place on the box."

"But what am I to drive a cab for? We've got our own man outside."

"Yes, but Mr. Saxon and I are going to take him."

"Then what am I to drive an empty cab for?"

"It won't be empty, I hope. If it is you must come all the same, but
I am hoping that you will have Vossche inside."

"Vossche?"

"Yes--after he has escaped from here----"

"Escaped!--Vossche!"

"Yes--if he sees an empty hansom he is pretty certain to hail it and
jump in, in case he should be pursued."

"Vossche is to escape and I'm to drive him away in a cab?"

"Yes. If he gets in--and I'm pretty sure he will--it will be his
best means of eluding pursuit--he'll tell you to drive somewhere.
He will be in a desperate hurry to get to the people who have the
Prince in their care. He'll want to let them know that the police
are at work in the right direction and put them on their guard.
When he gets in if he only says 'Drive on,' you must say 'How far?'
Get his destination out of him on some excuse or other."

"And take him to it?"

"No--go a little way and then say your horse is lame. Turn him out
as far from a cab-stand as you possibly can, then drive on to us--
we'll wait at the corner of the Westminster Bridge-road."

"And then?"

"And then we'll go on to the Inner Circle, Regent's Park, and get
into the Countess of Elstein's house."

"We shall want help, if we're to do that."

"You can put as many police in the front as you can get together, but
we're going to climb over the park railings and get in the back way.
Now let's arrange for Vossche to escape. Call me the chief here."

The officer in charge of the station came in and Inspector Carr
made a clean breast of as much as he wanted to tell. The officer
hesitated at the idea of the escape.

"Well," said the Inspector, "after all he isn't charged, is he? You
are only minding him for me, and I'll promise he won't get away.
He's going in my cab."

The officer opened his eyes with astonishment. "This is a very
daring idea," he said.

"Yes," said the Inspector, "but it's Dorcas Dene's, and I think it
will be the means of our making sure of the whereabouts of the Prince."

"Very well," said the officer. "Of course you take all responsibility
--the case is yours, not mine. How is the escape to be arranged?"

The Inspector looked at Dorcas.

"After we have gone," she said, "and Mr. Carr has got possession of
the cab and put on the driver's coat and badge, have the prisoner
brought in as though you were going to examine him. Remove his
handcuffs previously in the cell. A constable will guard him and
one will stand in the doorway.

"Suddenly you can pretend to fall ill, stagger and fall into the
constable's arms who is by the prisoner. Probably the man at the
door will rush to your assistance. Vossche is certain to see his
chance and make a desperate effort to bolt. He will be strong enough
to overpower the constable even if he has not left the door to run
to your assistance. You must clutch at the officers in your fit and
hinder them for a minute. By that time the man will be out and into
the cab which will be at hand."

The officer hesitated. "It will be playing a comedy. I never heard
of such a proposition, and I don't think I ought to be a party to it."

"You really must help us in this," exclaimed Dorcas, earnestly. "I am
sure if you do, and we discover the Prince, that Inspector Carr will
gladly testify to the admirable manner in which his efforts were
seconded by you. And if Prince ---- of ---- has any sense of
gratitude, he will, when he hears the story, present you with a
diamond pin. Remember this case is _not_ going into the newspapers,
and 'our Special Crime Investigator' will never have even the tip
of his little finger in the pie. The instructions from the Chief
Commissioner are that the most perfect silence is to be maintained
on the subject by all officers engaged in the search. Even the people
at the Prince's hotel have been informed by his suite that his Royal
Highness is gone into the country."

"Very well," said the officer, after a few minutes' reflection,
"I'll do it."

A constable came in to say that a hansom had been secured.

Dorcas wished the officer good-night, and shook hands with him,
and we went out to our four-wheeler, leaving Inspector Carr and the
local officer together.

When we got to Westminster Bridge-road we pulled up and waited.

Ten minutes later we heard a hansom tearing along at a furious
rate.

"There's no one in the cab," said Dorcas, looking into the vehicle
as it hove in sight. "Carr's got rid of him."

At that moment the vehicle came full into the light of the
street lamp.

Dorcas looked up at the box seat and uttered a cry of terror.

One glance was sufficient to tell me the cause of her dismay.

The man who was driving the hansom so furiously that the few
stragglers who were about in the street shouted out that it was a
runaway was not Inspector Carr.

_It was Jean Vossche, the Anarchist!_

_III. THE HOUSE IN REGENT'S PARK_

When the hansom which should have been driven by Inspector Carr,
and should have had Jean Vossche inside, dashed past us empty and
with Jean Vossche, the Anarchist, driving furiously, Dorcas Dene
stood for a moment dumbfounded.

"Something must have happened to Carr," I exclaimed. "Vossche
could only have got possession of the cab after a struggle."

"No," said Dorcas, "I don't imagine there has been a struggle.
You forget Carr carried a loaded revolver and Vossche was searched
at the station. It is possible that an accident happened. Vossche
got possession of the cab and drove off because he is in a desperate
hurry to warn his accomplices that they were watched to their
meeting-place to-night."

"And if he succeeds in warning them?"

"The first thing they will do will be to prevent all possible
means of rescuing the Prince. And they can do that in a moment."

"How?"

"By killing him."

"Why should they do that? Dead, he ceases to be a hostage, and in
sacrificing him they sacrifice the last hope of saving the lives of
the condemned men."

"They can kill him and conceal the body so that his fate may remain
uncertain. The ---- Government are certain to reprieve the prisoners
in the hope of saving the Prince's life."

"Then they may have killed him already--he may have been
murdered the night of his disappearance."

"No--they would hesitate to do that, because it _might_ have been
found out, and then their last card would have been played. But now
they are desperate. They will guess that they are suspected of being
concerned in his Royal Highness's disappearance. Self-preservation
is the first law of nature, and to save their own skins they will
sacrifice even their comrades. I have made up my mind what to do.
Come--we must be going."

"What about Carr?--are we going to leave him to his fate?"

"We cannot help him. If he is injured he will have been found by
passers-by or the police and attended to by now."

"Then where are we going?"

"To Scotland Yard."

* * * * * *

As the cab drove rapidly towards the famous detective establishment
on the Embankment, Dorcas explained her motive for no longer acting on
her own responsibility. So long as she was with Carr she was assisting
a properly-authorised police officer to investigate a sensational
affair. But Carr being absent--probably disabled, possibly
insensible--she was no longer justified in taking any further
steps in the matter. It was her duty to communicate her knowledge to
the properly-constituted authorities.

When Dorcas arrived at the Yard and sent her name to the chief
officer on duty, she was instantly admitted. Beckoning me to follow
her, she proceeded along a passage, and we were ushered into the
presence of a handsome, smooth-shaven gentleman with a small grey
moustache.

This gentleman rose as we entered and greeted Dorcas with a polite
bow. Directly she said that she had called to give information with
respect to the missing Prince, his official manner vanished and he
leant forward to listen.

"My chief is with the Home Secretary at this very minute," he said.
"Up to the present we have not the slightest clue. What is your
information?"

Dorcas related rapidly the events of the evening, and, as she
proceeded, the pleasant face of the official became grave and
anxious.

"We knew of these men, of course," he said, "but we never for a
moment connected his Royal Highness's disappearance with them. Their
arrest ought to be a mere matter of hours, for we know where to lay
hands on every Anarchist in England. But their arrest would only
retard rather than hasten the rescue of their prisoner. We don't
know where they have concealed him."

"At any rate there is someone who does."

"Who is that?"

"The Countess Elstein. I am convinced that it was to the Countess's
that the Prince went that night."

"We had an idea ourselves that the Countess must know something,"
replied the officer, "but on inquiring at her residence we were
informed that she had left London for the Continent the previous day.
The maid, a French-woman, was to follow her, so she told our man, and
join her mistress in Vienna in a week's time."

"Didn't you think it curious then," said Dorcas, "that the Countess
should have gone abroad and left her maid behind?"

"There was really nothing to think about in the matter. All that we
expected of the Countess was that she _might_ know something of
the Prince's movements, but she certainly would be no party to any
evil befalling him or any scandal arising in connection with him and
herself. She receives a handsome allowance from the Prince, and she is
hardly likely to have done anything which would imperil that."

"Well," said Dorcas, "you may be right, but the name of the Countess's
maid is Zelie Vossche. She may have communicated to her brother that
the Prince was coming. If I am right in my theory, the capture was
effected in the Countess's house."

"It might have been outside."

"Hardly; had it been outside your men must by this time have found
a clue. His captors wouldn't have dragged him from Regent's Park
without being observed by someone."

"But if it was in the house the capture took place the servants
must have known it."

"I don't think so. The Prince's visit would be arranged for under
any circumstances--the servants would be purposely kept out of
the way. Zelie, the maid, who is evidently in her mistress's
confidence, probably for a good reason, seeing that that affair of
the bracelet was not proceeded with--would let him in."

"But the Countess----"

"There I am in doubt," said Dorcas. "She may have been a party to
the outrage--she may have known nothing about it. But I am
convinced that the Prince entered that house and never left it."

"But, good heavens! if that has been your idea, why did you not
communicate with us at once?"

"You forget," said Dorcas, quietly, "it was not until after the
Anarchist meeting in Kennington Road to-night that I had any
certainty that my theory was correct."

The official touched a bell and a constable entered.

"Ask Superintendent Johnson to come to me at once."

The constable saluted and retired.

"What do you propose to do?" said Dorcas.

"Send Superintendent Johnson with a number of men at once to the
Countess's residence."

Dorcas laid her hand gently on his arm.

"Of course it is presumption on my part, but may I give you a
word of advice?"

"I shall listen to anything you say with the greatest respect,
because it seems to me that so far you have done more than all our
people put together in getting on the right trail--though of course
I feel strongly that you ought to have communicated with us before
this. What is your advice?"

"That you don't send Superintendent Johnson and his men to _alarm_
the Countess. Remember that one false movement may result in the
assassination of the Prince."

"That is true--but we _must_ satisfy ourselves that the Prince is
or is not there."

"Of course. My own intention, had Inspector Carr remained with
me, was to go to the Countess's house at once. But we should have
gone cautiously to work to avoid a mishap."

"One can be too cautious in a desperate affair like this. Even as
it is, this man Vossche has had time to communicate with the Prince's
captors. If his Royal Highness is a prisoner in the Regent's Park
house, he may already have been conveyed away."

"If he has I shall know it!"

"_You_ will know it--how?"

"Directly I heard from Inspector Carr of the Prince's disappearance,
and came to the conclusion that the Countess Elstein might have been
the instrument employed to get him into a trap, I put two of my
assistants whom I can trust--they are both retired police officers--
on the case. One has been watching the entrance in the Inner Circle,
and the other is concealed in the Park watching the grounds."

"That was well done at any rate. But now we must get inside the house."

"I quite agree with you. But there are two ways of doing it. Will
you let the Superintendent and his men go to work _my_ way?"

The officer hesitated. "It isn't usual," he said, "for our men to
act under the orders of a private detective, even one so famous and
so talented as Dorcas Dene, but under _all_ the circumstances I
consent. Up to a certain point Johnson will obey your instructions.
But if he finds that they do not look like resulting in immediate
success, then he will obey mine."

"I accept the terms," replied Dorcas, rising. Then she added, "I
presume there is no objection to my friend here accompanying us. He
is my husband's personal friend and my own, and has frequently
rendered me valuable assistance."

The official eyed me over as if mentally appraising my value, and
then with a patronising little nod exclaimed, "Oh, certainly if you
wish it--but I presume he is not a newspaper man? Whatever happens
we don't want this affair to be chattered about by the Press."

I assured the official that he might rely on my absolute discretion,
and that I quite understood the necessity of silence, and a minute
later Superintendent Johnson entered the room.

* * * * * *

Jean Vossche _had_ entered the house of Countess Elstein in the
Inner Circle of Regent's Park.

Dorcas's man had seen a man answering Vossche's description come up
and enter the grounds about half an hour previously. He was walking.

The cab left alone would have attracted attention. Vossche had driven
on to the cab-stand at Clarence Gate, which at that hour of the
morning was only occupied by a couple of four-wheelers, the drivers
of which were inside fast asleep. A hansom standing by itself on the
rank would not excite the slightest suspicion.

Dorcas, when she heard how the desperado had disposed of his vehicle,
murmured, "My compliments!--that man knows what he is about!"

Superintendent Johnson proved himself to be a tactician of the first
water. He readily fell in with Dorcas's suggestions, but managed to
add one or two of his own which Dorcas, not to be outdone in
amiability, readily acquiesced in. She did so the more willingly as
the Superintendent's suggestions were generally those which Dorcas
had made a minute or two earlier. Dorcas explained her idea rapidly.

"The Inner Circle is deserted, and my men can get over the gate," said
the Superintendent, "and in among the laurels ready for a signal."

"I am afraid of that," said Dorcas. "There is gravel in the front
garden, and a gravel scrunch might be heard. Remember, Vossche is
inside, and the front may be watched. My proposition is that we get
in at the back."

The Superintendent said nothing for a moment. Then suddenly as if
struck by an idea he exclaimed, "I propose that we get in at the
back. Don't you think it will be safer? They won't expect anybody
that way because the back runs down to the ornamental waters and the
Park is closed."

"An excellent idea," replied Dorcas, nudging my arm. "Leave a few
of your men under the trees on the opposite side of the roadway--
ready to dash in at your signal."

"Yes, when I blow my whistle they can rush in at the front garden."

"I shouldn't whistle," said Dorcas. "We might want to surprise the
inmates before they can escape.