The Return of Clubfoot

by Valentine Williams

BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE MAN WITH THE CLUBFOOT
THE SECRET HAND
THE YELLOW STREAK
THE ORANGE DIVAN
CLUBFOOT THE AVENGER

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
I.	[DOÑA LUISA]
II.	[IN WHICH A GENTLEMAN PAYS HIS DEBT]
III.	[THE MESSAGE]
IV.	[A FOOTSTEP IN THE LANE]
V.	[THE GIRL IN THE SMOKE-ROOM]
VI.	[I RECEIVE AN INVITATION]
VII.	[THE VICE-CONSUL'S WARNING]
VIII.	[DR. CUSTRIN]
IX.	[CONCERNING A LONG DRINK]
X.	[THE GRAVE IN THE CLEARING]
XI.	[A VOICE IN THE FOREST]
XII.	[I MEET AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE]
XIII.	[EL COJO]
XIV.	["DIE FÜNF-UND-ACHTZIGER"]
XV.	[MARJORIE'S ADVENTURE]
XVI.	[BLACK PABLO MAKES HIS PREPARATIONS]
XVII.	[THE ESCAPE]
XVIII.	[A FACE AMONG THE FERNS]
XIX.	[WHICH PROVES THAT TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE]
XX.	[THE BURIAL CHAMBER]
XXI.	[A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS AND WHAT CAME OF IT]
XXII.	[I INTERRUPT A TÊTE-À-TÊTE]
XXIII.	[CAPITULATION]
XXIV.	[ULRICH VON HAGEL'S TREASURE]
XXV.	[THE END OF A DREAM]
XXVI.	[IN WHICH A BLACK BOX PLAYS A DECISIVE PART]

The Return of Clubfoot

CHAPTER 1

DOÑA LUISA

As I was sitting on the verandah of John Bard's bungalow, glancing through a two-month old copy of The Sketch, I heard the clang of the iron gate below where I sat. I raised my eyes from the paper and looked down the gardens. At my feet was stretched a dark tangle of palms and luxuriant tropical verdure, beyond them in the distance the glass-like surface of the sea, on which a great lucent moon threw a gleaming path of light.

The night was very tranquil. From the port at the foot of the hill, on which my old friend, John Bard, had built his bungalow in this earthly paradise, the occasional screech of a winch was wafted with astonishing clearness over the warm air. Somewhere in the distance there was the faint monotonous thrumming of guitars. To these night noises of the little Central American port the sea murmured faintly a ceaseless accompaniment.

I heard voices in the garden. Within the house a door swung to with a thud; there was the patter of slippered feet over the matting in the living-room and Akawa, Bard's Japanese servant, was at my elbow. His snow-white drill stood out against the black shadows which the moon cast at the back of the verandah. He did not speak; but his mask-like face waited for me to notice him.