The Washington times., 1911-09-16
CHAPTER XXI.
The Return of Felix Babylon.

~ n the evening Of Prince Eugen'
fateful interview with Mr.
~ Sampson Levi, Theodore Rack
sole was wandering somewha
aimlessly and uneasily about the en-
trance hall and adjacent corridors o
the Grand Babylon.
He had returned from Ostend only
DAY or two previously, and had endeav
ored with all his might to forget tn,
anair which had carried him there; t
regard 1t, in fact, as done with. Blu
ne found himself unable to do so.
In vain he remarked under his breath
that there were some things which wer,
pest left alone; If his experience as I
manipulation Of markets, a eontriver o.
gigantic schemes in New York, had
taught him anything at all, 1t shoulC
certainly have taught him that
yet ne could not feel reconciled t
such position. The mere presence OF
the princes in his hotel reused the fight
ing instincts OF this man who had never
IN MS whole career been beaten.
DE mad. as 1t were, taken up arms on
tneir side, and If the Princes Of Posen
would not continue their own battle
nevertheless he, Theodore Racksole,
wanted TO continue 1t for them.
10 certain extent, of course, the
battle had been won. for Prince Eugen
difficult and dangerous position, and the
enemy, consisting of Jules. Rocco, Miss
Spencer and perhaps others. had been
But that, he conceived. was not
enough; It was very far from being
enough. That the criminals, for Grim
inals they decidedly were, should still
De at large, he regretted as an absurd
And there was another point-he had
said nothing to the police of all that
had occurred. He disdained the police,
put he could scarcely fail to perceive
ithat II the police should by accident gain
q clue to the real state of the case. he
might be placed rather awkwardlY for
the simple reason that in the eyes of
the law it amounted to a misdemeanor
TO conceal as muCn as he had concealed
He asked himself for the thousandth
time why he had adopted a policy of
concealment from the police. why he
had become in any way interested in
the Fosen matter, and why, at this
present moment. he should be SO anx-
tous to prosecute IT. further.
To the first two questions he replied
rather lamely that he had been influ-
enced by Nella, and also by q natural
Eplr1t Of adventure; to the third he re.
phed that he had always been In the
hablt OF carrying things through and
was now actuated by a mere childish.
through
Moreover. be was splendidIy conscious
OF his perfect ability to carry it
One additional impulse he had. though
he dld not admit it TO himself, being 6y
nature aVerse to big words, and that
Wss an abstract love of justice, the
AEeio-Saxon deep-founded instinct for
heIplng the right side to conquer, even
Mnen grave risks must thereby he
run. with n" corresponding advantage.
ne was turning these things over in
hoto II inIilu ~ as ne walked about the vast
July '"o last uay IN
The society papers had been stating
Ior week past that London was
narp empy' put In spite Of the society pa
pers London persisted in seeming to he
yust as full as ever. The Grand Baby
ION was certainly not as crowded as If
nag Deen a month earlier, but IT was
ooing very passable business.
AT the close of the season the CAV
butterflies of the social cornmunity
nave a habit of lowering for a day or
Two IN the big hotels before they f1ut-
Ier away to castle and country house,
HiTaaoW Tt and moor. lake and stream.
Inc great basket chairs in the portico
We're well filled by old and middie-aged
gentlemen engaged in enjoying the
varied delights of iqueurs, cigars, and
me fuii moon which fioated so sereneiy
pretty woman on the arm of a cavalier
In immaculate attire swept her train as
she turned TO and fro in the prome-
made on the te-r~ce.
anu commissions |
aires and gold braided doorkeepers
moved nofselessly about; at short inter- |
vals the chief of the doorkeepers blew
his shriu whistle and hansoms drove |
up with tinkliEg bell to take away a |
pair OF butterflies to some place of |
or of boredom; occasionally |
q private carriage, drawn by expen- |
sive and self-conscious horses, put |
the hansoms to shame by Its mere out
ward glory.
1t was a hot night, a night for the
summer woods. and save for the We
hicles there was no rapid movement Of
any kind.
IT seemed as though the world-the
world. that is to say, of the Grand |
engaged in the solemn
procession of digestion and small talk. /
Even the long row OF the embankment
gas lamps, stretching right and left,
scarcely trembled in the still, warm,
air.
The stars overhead looked down with
many blinkings upon the enormous pile
Of the Grand Babylon, and the moon
regarded 1t with bland and changeless
lace; what they thought of 1t and of
It's inhabitants cannot, unfortunately,
be recorded. What Theodore Racksole
thought of the moon can be recorded;
ne thought It a nuisance.
1t somehow fascinated his gaze with
ts silly stare, and so interfered with
bis complex meditations. He glanced
around at the well-dressed and satis-
led people, his guests, his customers.
They appeared to ignore him abso-
utely. Probably only a very small per-
,entage Of them had the least idea that
his tall, spare man, with the iron-gray
lair and the thin, firm, resolute face,
who wore his American-cut evening
,lothes with such careless ease, was the
'ole proprietor of the Grand Babylon
md possibly the richest man In Europe.
As has already been stated, Racksole
vas not a celebrity in England The ,
,uests of the Grand Babylon saw mere
y a restless male person, whose rest
essness wss rather a disturber of their |
uietude. but with whom, to Judge by I