Detective and mystery stories, English; Police -- Fiction; Short stories
A malignant scowl passed over the scoundrel's features; but he made no
reply. Ultimately it was decided that one of the fraternity should be
despatched in search of the required amount. He was gone about half an
hour, and returned with a bundle of notes. They were, as I hoped and
expected, forgeries on foreign banks. Mr. Merton looked at and counted
them; and play commenced.
As it went on, so vividly did the scene recall the evening that had
sealed my own ruin, that I grew dizzy with excitement, and drained
tumbler after tumbler of water to allay the fevered throbbing of my
veins. The gamblers were fortunately too much absorbed to heed my
agitation. Merton lost continuously--without pause or intermission. The
stakes were doubled--trebled--quadrupled! His brain was on fire; and he
played, or rather lost, with the recklessness of a madman.
"Hark! what's that?" suddenly exclaimed Sandford, from whose Satanic
features the mask he had so long worn before Merton had been gradually
slipping. "Did you not hear a noise below?"
_My_ ear had caught the sound; and I could better interpret it than he.
It ceased.
"Touch the signal-bell, Adolphe," added Sandford.
Not only the play, but the very breathing of the villains, was suspended
as they listened for the reply.
It came. The answering tinkle sounded once--twice--thrice. "All right!"
shouted Sandford. "Proceed! The farce is nearly played out."
I had instructed the officers that two of them in plain clothes should
present themselves at the front door, obtain admission by means of the
password I had given them, and immediately seize and gag the
door-keeper. I had also acquainted them with the proper answer to the
signal-wring--three distinct pulls at the bell-handle communicating with
the first floor. Their comrades were then to be admitted, and they were
all to silently ascend the stairs, and wait on the landing till summoned
by me to enter and seize the gamesters. The back entrance to the house
was also securely but unobtrusively watched.
One only fear disturbed me: it was lest the scoundrels should take alarm
in sufficient time to extinguish the lights, destroy the forged papers,
and possibly escape by some private passage which might, unknown to me,
exist.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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