CHAPTER XXXVIII. MAITRANK STRIKES.

Meanwhile the brilliant society season was drawing to a close. Few smart functions remained, but there would be no more dashing affair than the forthcoming ball at Lytton Avenue. The supper was coming from Paris, the decorations were unique, the flowers were to cost upwards of a thousand pounds. The society papers had more or less veracious paragraphs, a score of lady journalists were making copy of the affair.

Thus Maitrank chuckled over his invitation. He was going to take his vengeance for the trick played on him in his own good time. He had purposely kept out of the way of the Countess. He set the cables in motion, and after a due response or two he was closeted with the head of, a smart firm of lawyers in Ely Place.

"You are quite sure of my position?" he croaked.

"Quite, sir," the lawyer responded. "According to the papers drawn up at the time, you can take possession and demand your money at any moment. You are in the same position as a landlord distraining for rent. If you want us to act----"

"I do," Maitrank snapped. "I wish you to act at eleven o'clock tomorrow night. No need to stare at me like that, sir. I know what I am doing. And I am prepared to pay you handsomely for your services."

The lawyer bowed his strange client out. He had only to obey instructions. He went back to his desk pondering on the sensation that society was going to get shortly. Maitrank went straight away to Lawrence.

"I have done what you asked," he said curtly. "You are a wonderful man, you novelist; see you at our dear friend the Countess's tomorrow. Good night."

By the time that Maitrank had bowed with humility over the hand of his hostess the following evening nearly all fashionable London had gathered in those spacious suites of rooms. The decorations were superb, unique; there was no better music to be obtained in Europe. Folk were talking with bated breath of the great chef who had come from Paris to superintend his supper.

It was the crowning glory of a wonderful woman's career. She stood smiling before her guests in a dress that had cost Worth a sleepless night. A duke was just congratulating her upon her good taste. A couple of gorgeous footmen were casting back the curtains of the supper room. Down below in the hall something like an altercation seemed to be going on.

"It's a man, my lady," a blushing footman stammered. "He declines to go away. I called in a policeman, and he showed him a paper, after which the police went, saying it seemed all right and legal or something like that. The fellow says he must see you."

Perhaps a creditor beyond all patience and in desperate need of money. Leona Lalage sailed out of the room into the hall, where two seedy-looking men awaited her.

"Well, what is it you want tonight?" she demanded, haughtily.

A long slip of paper was thrust into her hand. Her quick brain grasped the significance. Maitrand had struck, and struck hard. These men were in possession for nearly ￡100,000--vulgar bailiffs such as come and sell the goods of poor people who cannot pay their rent. Leona Lalage remembered now the conditions under which she had borrowed money from Maitrank. He had her in his power. It seemed a vile thing to do when she had put him off with the very jewels from about her neck. And she was powerless--she could not have these men turned into the street. Most of her guests would understand sooner or later. Tomorrow this would be public property. Once the tongue of rumour started the crash was bound to follow.

Leona Lalage looked round her helplessly for the first time in her life. Maitrank stood there grinning like a hideous mask enjoying her confusion. He had come to enjoy this where a more sensitive man would have stayed away. Revenge to him was nothing unless he could feast his eyes upon it.

"You scoundrel, you cur!" she hissed. "If I had a weapon in my hand, I would kill you and die happy. Why have you done this thing?"

"Why do you foist me off with paste jewels?" Maitrank asked, coolly. "Ah you may stare with amazement! You are a very clever actress, madam."

"Paste?" Lalage gasped. "Paste! Why for their sake--impossible!"

"I will sell them to you for the price of your bouquet," said Maitrank. "It is my turn now. Won't you have your guests in to supper?"

The Countess looked round her helplessly. The sound of the music, the ripple of laughter, the murmur of voices maddened her. She knew that the crash must come some time, but she had not dreamt of a humiliation like this. Lawrence came sauntering down the steps. She flew to him.

Could he help her. She was in great trouble, and she knew that she could trust him. She owed Maitrank a lot of money; he had chosen to humiliate her by actually putting these vulgar bailiffs in tonight, of all times. Those pleading eyes would have melted a heart of stone. Lawrence seemed to be greatly distressed.

"I fancy I can see a way out of the difficulty," he said. "I do not wish to pry into your affairs, but in a novelist's business one gets to know things. And I, too, am in a great quandary. Do you recollect the flower farm near Ajaccio?"

"I am going mad," Leona whispered. "To allude to that tonight! Well, I have got on in the world like other people. No need to allude to that. What can it possibly have to do with the matter?"

"One never knows," said Lawrence. "But I see you remember. You also remember the marvellous secret of the tuberose scent. For my own purposes I require a little of it, my story demands it. I am talking business now. Give me the little bottle from the Antoinette cabinet in your boudoir, and I will get rid of those men for you."

Slowly Leona Lalage took the speaker in from head to foot. Her face had grown deadly pale. But she could make nothing of Lawrence's face. All the same, it was quite evident that he meant every word that he said.

"You shall have it," she said suddenly. "How you got to know so much of my history you shall tell me presently. But the tuberose is yours."

She flashed along the hall. Directly she was gone Lawrence signalled to Maitrank, who stood in the background. The latter produced a letter which he handed to the foremost of the two intruders.

"As you see, this is from the solicitor who employs you," he said. "If I like to change my mind, and ask you to go you are to obey. I ask you to go. Say nothing of this, and I will see you are suitably rewarded in the morning."

The man looked and nodded. He winked at his companion, and together they strode out of the house. With a silent laugh Maitrank crept up the stairs.

"I trust you," he croaked. "You promised me a better vengeance than I could get for myself. See that I get it."

"More for the sake of others you shall get it," Lawrence cried. "It's flattering to the vanity of a novelist to have a millionaire for one of his puppets."

The Countess came sweeping back again with one tiny phial in her hand. Lawrence did not need to look to see that it was the right one. Unknown to the Countess, he had had it in his possession before.

"There!" she cried. "And now to keep your part of the compact. If you have got round Maitrank you are a genius. Where are the men?"

"Gone!" said Lawrence. "I waved my hand and they have departed. Nobody but us three has any knowledge of the truth."

A quiet sigh escaped from the listener. She smiled again.

"It is a debt I can never repay," she said. "Will you stay after the others have gone and tell me how you learnt my early history?"

"That is just what I should like to do," Lawrence said coolly.