Northern Weekly Gazette. — 1902-09-13 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

BOTTLE OF WINE. As regards Theodore Racksole, who was to have caught his man from the outside of the cellar, he made his way as rapidly as possible front the wineoellars, up to the ground floor, out of the hotel by the quadrangle, through the quadrangle, and out into the top of Salisbury-lane. Now, owing to the vastness of the structure of ilia. Grand Babylon, the mere distance thus to be travelled amounted to a little short of a quarter of a mile, and, as it included a number of stairs' about two dozen turnings, and several passagos which at that time of night were in darkness more or lees complete, Racksole could not have been esxpected to accomplish the journey in less than five minutes. As a matter of fact, six minutes had elapsed before lie reached the top of Salisburylane, because he had been deley?d nearly a minute by some questions addressed to him by a muddled and whisky-laden guest who had got lost in the corridors. Ns everybody knows, there is a sharp short bend in Salisbury lane near the top. Racksole ran round this at good racing speed, but he was unfortunately enough to run straight up against the very policeman who had not bug before so courteously supplied Jules with a match. The policeman awned to be scarcely in so pliant a mood just there Hullo!" he said, his naturally uspie-ions nature being doubtless aroused - by the spectacle; of a bare-headed man in evening-dress running violentl- down the lane. "What's this? Where are you orf in such a hurry ?" and he forcibly detained Theodore Racksole for a moment and scrutinised his face. " Now, officer," Racksole, quietly, "non" of your larks, if you please. I've no time to lose." • "Beg your pardon, sir," the policeman remarked, though hesitatingly and not quite with good temper, and Racksole was allowed to proceed on his way. The millionaire's scheme for trapping Jules was to get down to the little sunk yard by means of the ladder, and then to secrete himself behind some converriant abutihent of brickwork until Mr Toni Jackson should have got into the cellar. He therefore nimbly surmounted the railings—the railings of his own hotel—and was gingerly descended the ladder, wheat lo! a rough hand seized him by the coat-cellar and with a ferocious jerk urged him backwards. The fact was, Theodore Racksole had counted without the policeman. That guardian of the peace, mistrusting Racksole's manner, had quietly followed him down the lane. The sight  of the millionaire climbing the railings had put him on his mettle, and the reeult was the ignominious capture of Racksole. In vain Theodore expostulated, explained, anathematised. Only one thing would satisfy the stolid policeman—namely, that Rack.cole should return with him to the hotel and there eitablish his ideintity- If Racksole then proved to be Racks°le, owner of the Grand Babylon, well and good—the policeman promised to apologise. So. Theodore had no alternative but to accept the suggestion. To prove his identity was, of course, the work of only a few minutes, after which Racksole, annoyed, but cool as ever, returned to his railings, while the policeman went off to another part of his beat, where he would be likely to meet a comrade and have a chat.  In the meantime, our friend Jules, sublimely unconscious of the altercation going on outside, and of the special risk which he ran, was of course actually in the cellar, which he had reached before Racksola got to the railings for the first time. It was, indeed, a happy chance for Jules that his exit from the cellar coincided with the period during which Racksole was absent from the railings. As Racksele came down the lane for the second time, he saw a figure walking about fifty yards in front of him towards the embankment. Instantly he divined it was Jules, and that the policeman had thrown him just too late. He ran, and Jules, hearing the noise of pursuit, ran also. The ex-waiter was fleet; he made direct for a certain spot in the Embankment wall, and, to the intense astonishment of R.acksole, pumped clean over the wall, as it seemed, into the river. "Is he so desperate as to commit suicide ?" Racksole exclaimed as he ran, but a second later the puff and snort, of a steam launch told him that Jules was not quite driven to suicide. As the millionaire crossed the Embankment roadway he saw the funnel of the launch move -out, from under the river-wall. swerved into midstream and headed towards London Bridge- There wa.s a silent mist over the river. Racksole was helpless. . . . Although Rack.sole had now been twice worsted in a contest of wits within thc. precincts of the Grand Babylon, once by Rocco and once by Jules, he could not fairly blame himself for the present miscarriage of his plans— a miscarriage due to the meddlesomeness of an extraneous person, combined with pure ill-fortune. He did not, therefore, permit the accident to interfere with his sleep that night. On the following day he sought out Prince Aribert, between whom and himself there now existed a feeling of unmistakabl? frank friendship, and disclosed to him the happenings of the previous night, and particularly the tampering with the bottle of RomaneeConti.  "I believe you dined with Prince Eugen last night ?" "I did. And curiously enough we had a bottle of Rourta.nee-Conti, an admirable wine, of which Eugen is passionately fond." "And you will dine with him tonight ?" "Most probably. To-day will, I fear, be our last day here. Eugen wishes to return to Posen early to-morrow." "Has it struck you, Prince," said Racksole, "that if Jules had succeeded in poisoning your nephew, he would probably have succeeded also in poisoning you" "I had not thought of it," laughed Aribert, "but it would seem so. It. appears that so long as he bring; down his particular quarry, Jules is careless of anything else that may be accidentally involved in the destruction. However, we need have no fear on that score now. You know the bottle, and you can destroy it at once." "But I do not propose to destroy said Racksole calmly. "If Prince Eugen asks for Romanee-Conti to be served to-night, as he probably will, I propose