Juggernaut - free ebook by Alice Campbell

GARDEN CITY ———— NEW YORK

DOUBLEDAY, DORAN &amp; COMPANY, INC. 1929...

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JUGGERNAUT

When Esther rang the bell of Numéro 86 Route de Grasse, she felt within her that pleasant sort of stage-fright—a mixture of dread and exhilaration—which one is apt to experience when venturing into the unknown. The thrill might be out of all proportion to the prosaic character of her mission—for what is there exciting in applying for a post as a doctor's assistant?—yet there was no gainsaying the fact that when this door confronting her opened, anything, everything, might happen. That is the way

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CHAPTER II

An hour later Esther sat at a table in the magnificent Restaurant des Ambassadeurs, drinking her tea with enjoyment and revelling in the scene before her. She felt a little guilty at being here, for she was a conscientious young woman, averse to throwing money about when there was nothing coming in. Still, she had not indulged herself to any great extent since Miss Ferriss departed, having bent all her efforts towards finding work, and now that there was employment in prospect she thought she ha

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CHAPTER III

Esther was not mistaken in her surmise that the doctor was by choice at least more of a scientist than a physician. Patients he had to be sure, a respectable number, composed mostly of English and American tourists, well-to-do people. Esther thought that if he had been more keenly interested or a better business man he might have developed his practice into a large and lucrative one. She recognised in him the sure instinct of the natural diagnostician, she knew enough to realise that his methods

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CHAPTER IV

Esther's first thought was, "Why does she stand being talked to like that? I wouldn't, not for a moment." It was as if all his latent contempt for the opposite sex was concentrated into that one vitriolic burst. Well——! Some physicians, she knew, practised with hyper-emotional subjects the method of "treating them rough." This was probably Sartorius's idea. Certainly she was ready to believe that Lady Clifford was of the uncontrolled, hysterical type, who easily gave way to her feelings; perhaps

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CHAPTER V

"I say, have you got any matches anywhere?" Esther jumped at the sudden sound of a man's voice close to her ear, and looked up from the accounts she was writing. She had heard someone moving about in the salon, but she had thought it must be Jacques, who a few minutes before had been cleaning the brass on the front door. The voice, which addressed her casually and without any preliminary greeting, stirred something in her memory. She rose from her desk by the window and shot the intruder a glanc

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CHAPTER VI

One bright afternoon about ten days after this the Rolls Royce of the Cliffords drew up at the doctor's door, and when the sandy-haired chauffeur had descended and rung the bell, there emerged from the car in somewhat ceremonial order Lady Clifford, her sister-in-law, and Sir Charles himself. To the casual eye it would appear that the first of these three could have no possible connection with the other two, any more than a bird of paradise would have with a pair of rooks. "She has brought the o

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CHAPTER VII

Several days slipped by, during which she heard nothing further of the Cliffords. Nor indeed did she think about them very much, there being more vital matters to occupy her attention. Esther was but mortal. There was a particular chestnut-coloured crêpe-de-Chine jumper in a shop-window along the Croisette that drew her like a magnet—her colour, and what a background for her golden amber beads, brought her recently by a patient from Peking. Should she give way to the extravagance, or ought she t

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CHAPTER VIII

"I felt it from the first," continued Miss Clifford. "You see, his symptoms were so exactly like Bannister's—that is the maid who is ill. There was only this difference, that my brother was a good deal longer developing his case. I don't know why, I'm sure, for he's so much older and not in robust health, either. You'd have thought he'd succumb more quickly than a young strong woman." "You would think so," agreed Esther. "But of course there are different types of typhoid. I've even seen people

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CHAPTER IX

At the gare next morning, Miss Clifford, having selected a likely train, leaned forward in her brother's car and eagerly scanned each arrival as he issued from the exit. What if Roger did not arrive after all? These trains were so booked up at this season, he might not have been able to secure a wagon-lit . Still, he usually managed things…. "Roger! Roger!" she shouted suddenly, so that at least half a dozen travellers turned in her direction. The young Englishman in the Harris tweed coat wheele

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CHAPTER X

A few minutes later Roger was shown into his father's room. His first sight of the old man, lying flat on his back, his emaciated arms limp on the smooth white coverlet, his face drawn and the colour of old parchment, gave him a distinct shock. It was but a momentary one, however. The room, filled with sunlight, was calm and cheerful, the fresh fragrance of violets scented the air, the whole atmosphere tended to allay his fears. The young nurse he had seen in the hall came forward as he entered,

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CHAPTER XI

Why should Lady Clifford show so much curiosity about a technical thing like a medical chart? She was told several times a day exactly how her husband was progressing. She seemed to Esther like an importunate child, probing to know the future, which no one could foresee. As this thought crossed her mind, a quick movement on the part of the figure opposite caused her to halt on the brink of making her presence known. She saw Lady Clifford straighten up and come towards her with a cautious step to

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CHAPTER XII

"Not sent!" Miss Clifford laid down the comb she was using and turned upon her nephew a face of bewilderment. "No, it wasn't sent." "But that's impossible; it must have been." "It wasn't. There's no record of it." "Oh, there is some mistake. Why, Thérèse herself …" Her voice trailed off; she stared before her in a puzzled fashion. Then reluctantly her eyes met the young man's. "Then you think," she said hesitatingly, "that she didn't send it after all?" "There's no question about it; I know she

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CHAPTER XIII

Having finished a late and lazy breakfast next morning, Roger ascended to his father's room. He found the old man lying tranquil if weak, his temperature fallen to normal with that curious abruptness characteristic of typhoid. The nurse, very fresh in a clean apron and cap, was putting the room to rights. She smiled at Roger, who was no longer a stranger, for the two had had a long talk over their coffee the evening before, and later, with Miss Clifford, had indulged in a little mild cutthroat b

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CHAPTER XIV

With one accord they peered up the dim well of the staircase. On the floor above, leaning over the rail, one hand clutching an army revolver, was a dishevelled young man, his hair tousled, his eyes swollen with sleep. He was clad in orange-striped silk pyjamas open at the neck, and even as he scowled darkly on the intruders below he stifled a capacious yawn. Although his face was in shadow there seemed something familiar about him. However, before anything had been said on either side, the belli

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CHAPTER XV

The Frenchwoman looked up with a slight start, then smiled. "Ah, it's you, nurse!" she murmured. "You do not mind my being here, do you?" Esther stood still for a second, trying not to betray that she was annoyed. Why couldn't the woman leave her poor husband alone? Recalling the doctor's injunction to her, she wondered how she could convey the needed hint to Lady Clifford without giving offence. "Did you want anything, Sir Charles?" she inquired a little pointedly, coming forward and gently tak

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CHAPTER XVI

She heard her own voice, muffled and unnatural. It seemed to work a sort of magic, for the python vanished, melted away like mist; she drew a great shuddering breath and found she was lying on her bed, unharmed, but with the sheet muffled about her throat and the thick eiderdown quilt resting in a roll across her. Her heart was still pounding, perspiration streamed from her while she laughed hysterically and repeated to herself: "But pythons don't bite! Pythons don't bite!" No, of course!—how ab

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CHAPTER XVII

She was so silent he began to wonder if he had shocked her, though that didn't seem likely, she was such a sensible girl. "Of course she can't help having that sort of hand," he hastened to add apologetically. "It's just a peculiarity." Esther was repeating to herself that phrase, "the hands of the successful cocotte ," which somehow seemed oddly illuminating. Lady Clifford's hands had a meaning for her now. The soft cushioned palms spelled love of luxury, the stumpy, curving fingers and talon-l

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CHAPTER XVIII

About an hour before this Arthur Holliday left the Restaurant des Ambassadeurs and, with a slight frown on his face, got into his car and drove rapidly to La Californie. When he reached the Villa Firenze all was in darkness. He left his car in a turning out of the main road, then quietly slipped into the garden and walked across the grass around to the paved terrace at the side of the salon. As he set foot on the flat stones the doors opened softly and Thérèse Clifford put out her hands and drew

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CHAPTER XIX

Of the foregoing incident Esther remained in total ignorance. Accordingly, when next morning she heard Lady Clifford's maid, Aline, say that her mistress had had a bad night and was indisposed in consequence, it meant nothing special to her. She had come to regard the beautiful Frenchwoman as spoiled and self-indulgent, prone, like many others of her type, to exaggerate trifling ailments—though she concluded that the explanation of this tendency lay in the boredom of the woman's daily life. If s

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CHAPTER XX

The man in the road, a short, thickset brigand by the look of him, rushed up to the car, hat in hand, his face beaming. " C'est bien, mademoiselle! Ah, mademoiselle, que je suis ravi de vous voir! " "Jacques!—it's Jacques, Roger, the doctor's servant." On hearing this, Roger expressed his regret at having so nearly ended the other's career. The little man's animosity had quite vanished, his black eyes shone with kindly affection which included his late enemy. " Ah, ça n'est rien, monsieur, ç'éta

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CHAPTER XXI

One of the habits of men most annoying to the opposite sex is their reluctance to give explanations. When one is eager to know the reasons why they did or failed to do a thing, instead of satisfying one's curiosity they go quietly away and say nothing. Women in the same position itch to justify, to excuse, to exonerate. Men keep silent and let one think what one pleases—a form of moral cowardice which remains at once their weakness and their strength. Why Roger should not immediately hasten to e

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CHAPTER XXII

"Oh! Is anything the matter?" She noticed that he looked embarrassed. "No, nothing. Come outside for a few minutes; downstairs is best, where we won't disturb anybody. The whole house seems to have turned in, and it's only ten-thirty." They descended to the floor below and sat on the broad stairs in semi-darkness. Esther waited, curious to know what he was going to say. He lit a cigarette and seemed reluctant to begin. "I've been driving in the rain for a couple of hours," he volunteered at last

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CHAPTER XXIII

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. "Oh, the needle! Did I have it?" "Certainly. I handed it to you as I usually do." She rubbed her forehead in the effort to recall. "Did you?" she murmured in perplexity. "I don't remember." "But I remember. I want to replace it. What have you done with it?" Her memory was a complete void; the business of Roger's thumb had routed everything else. "Are you quite sure——" she faltered. "Sure!" he repeated sharply, and with a gesture of annoyance. "I tell

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CHAPTER XXIV

Within twenty-four hours Sir Charles was in a condition bordering on coma. Arrangements were hurriedly made for a consultation of physicians to be held the following day, it being Lady Clifford's wish that no stone should be left unturned in the effort to save her husband. However, everyone realised that the consultation would be a mere formality: there was scarcely any possibility of stemming the tide. Yet Thérèse's zeal was not without its effect on both her sister-in-law and her stepson. "No

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CHAPTER XXV

There was little sleep for her that night. The most serious problem she had ever had to face presented itself, demanding a speedy solution. What course ought she to pursue? Hours passed and she had not found the answer. Here was the difficulty: if she confided her dreadful suspicion to some member of the family and it was proved to be correct, then a criminal investigation would follow and her own position would be unassailable. But if, on the other hand, it were found to be false—and it seemed

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CHAPTER XXVII

Five minutes later Roger, hastily attired in his shirt, trousers and dressing-gown, his eyes heavy with sleep and fever, descended the stairs and looked inquiringly about. The hall was empty. "Why, where has she got to?" he murmured in perplexity, then rang the bell and called for Chalmers at the same time. The butler appeared without delay. "Where is Miss Rowe, Chalmers?" The old man looked surprised. "I'm sure I've no idea, sir. I left her here a short time ago. She was waiting to speak to you

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CHAPTER XXVIII

Out of what seemed a long dark night, filled with shapeless images, Esther woke at last. She believed herself in her comfortable bed at the Villa Firenze, and for a brief moment she wondered at the hardness of the mattress beneath her. Next she was aware that her head throbbed dully and that her mouth felt dry and harsh. She swallowed several times. Was she ill? Had anything happened? Then followed the discovery that she was fully dressed, even to her coat and shoes. How could that be? It was va

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CHAPTER XXIX

What sound was that? The noise of ringing. Was it within her own brain? No, surely not; it was the bell downstairs, a loud, persistent peal. Not the telephone; no, it must be the front-door bell. An annoyed exclamation came from the doctor. "I'll have to answer that; it won't do to leave it." A little click as the needle was laid down, then the retreating steps of both men, out of the room. The door closed, the key turned mechanically. She could hear the doctor's heavy steps lumbering all the wa

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CHAPTER XXX

For a short space Esther believed herself lost. If Holliday found her, which seemed almost inevitable, she knew she would be powerless to put up a defence. It would be a simple matter for him to gag her and drag her back over the few yards of intervening side-walk before anyone could know what was happening. It was not as though there were many people about. She had never seen the street so deserted. An occasional motor passed, but she could detect no footstep save that of the man pursuing her.

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CHAPTER XXXI

"Chalmers, was that Mr. Roger who came in? I thought I heard him." "Yes, miss, he's in his room, but I fancy he's on his way to you. He asked where you were." Chalmers came a step farther into the room, rubbing his grey chin in an undecided fashion. There was plainly something on his mind. "I wish, miss, we could manage to keep Mr. Roger from going about in all weathers the way he's doing. With this fever on him I'm afraid he'll come to harm. It fair frightens me to see him looking as he does an

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CHAPTER XXXII

For a full second all the onlookers merely gazed, completely dumbfounded. Miss Clifford seemed unable to make a move, the doctor stood rooted to the spot by the table, his face expressionless, his fingers holding the long strip of gauze, which fluttered in the draught from the open door. The first to stir was Roger, who knelt beside the sobbing girl, and putting his arms around her body tried to lift her a little. The startling denunciation she had given voice to had hardly registered upon his b

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CHAPTER XXXIII

At sight of Roger the Frenchwoman uttered a cry and redoubled her efforts to get away. "Roger, make him let go, the old swine, the beast, le sale chameau ! I dismiss him here, now; he must leave my house. I will have him arrested for attacking me. I… Take him away, Roger, do you hear, do you see what he is doing?" Before Roger could reply or adjust his confused impressions the old butler panted out: "Just pick up that bottle from the floor, sir, if you don't mind, and put it in a safe place. The

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CHAPTER XXXIV

" Bonsoir, Madame! Bonsoir, Monsieur! I hope I have not kept you long. I came as quickly as I could. This is the patient, I suppose?" He spoke in excellent English, and had a brisk and businesslike air. He was a small and dapper man with ginger hair cut en brosse , and red-brown eyes behind thick glasses. Setting down his bag on a chair, he cast a professional glance at the prostrate figure under the pink quilt, then running his eyes over the room he discovered Dr. Sartorius. At once a look of p

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CHAPTER XXXV

"The police!" "Yes, sir, three officers. They say someone telephoned for them, but I can't for the life of me say who it could have been, sir. Who would want to?" In blank astonishment Roger stared as three men in uniform filed into the room and stood at attention. Two wore the regulation dress of sergents-de-ville, the third was clearly of superior rank. He was an aggressive, youngish fellow with a sharp, sallow face and a black, bristly moustache, cut very short. He began by eyeing Roger all o

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CHAPTER XXXVI

It was nearly midnight when Dr. Bousquet at last took his departure. An hour before that time Esther became conscious, but was so utterly weak he would not allow her to speak or make the smallest effort of any kind. She made no comment on finding herself back in her old quarters, and after a short interval drifted back into a natural sleep. The watchers felt a degree of relief. "I think I may safely leave her now, monsieur," said the doctor, drawing on his gloves. "I will come again in the morni

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CHAPTER XXXVII

"Gone! What do you mean? How could she get away?" "That's what we don't know, sir. We——" "Who is we?" demanded Roger sharply. "I mean Aline, sir; it was she who found it out. I've been about the house the whole night, sir; I've never closed my eyes. No one could have got past me without my knowing it." Roger glanced at the bed. Esther still slept, the rings around her eyes darker than ever in the cold morning light. "Come outside," he said in a lower tone. "We mustn't disturb Miss Rowe. Now tell

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CHAPTER XXXVIII

All the servants of the household, drawn by Aline's screams, now crowded upon the steps and looked on with frightened faces. From them issued a confusion of hazarded explanations, all wide of the truth. Madame had started to go out and had had a stroke of some sort; Madame had shot herself; Madame had been lured outside by a bandit and struck with a club, the object being to secure her pearls. Yet, no—the pearls were not missing, there they were around her neck, stained dark with blood. Ah! … wh

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CHAPTER XXXIX

Three days later Esther sat by the window in the hotel sitting-room of the Cliffords' suite, waiting for Roger. She had made rapid progress during the past twenty-four hours, but she still felt rather wan and tremulous, as though she had been through a long illness. Moreover she now knew all there was to know about the affair in which she had played a leading part. She had insisted on being told what had happened to Lady Clifford, and in spite of the inevitable shock to her nerves she had since

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